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longislandcharm · 8 months

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PARTIES: @longislandcharm, @recoveringdreamer TIMING: Early August SUMMARY: Felix spots the ghost following Winter around and realizing this she confronts them. They're terrified, she's annoyed, it's a fun time for all. WARNINGS: None

The sun hit Winter like a ton of bricks as she made her way outside of the Elysium, the girl having to stop for a second as her eyes automatically closed to allow an adjustment period to the bright light. She hadn’t been out of the dark confines of her room or the library for weeks and she was starting to feel the effects of that. The sound of her stomach grumbling only further proved that she needed to take a break from the books but she just wanted to know what the hell this ghost following her wanted and since the guy wouldn’t actually talk to her this was all she knew to do. A chuckle escaped the ghost next to her, Winter’s head whipping to the side as her eyes flew open to send a glare his way. “You could end all of this, you know? But you’re stubborn and apparently you just like torturing me.”

The words came out as a hiss only prompting the ghost to give Winter a glare of his own. Somehow she could tell he was throwing that stubborn comment right back in her face as she was quite the mule herself. Rolling her eyes, she once again faced the town in front of her only to realize she had no idea where to go for food. She’d been getting her meals from room service or skipping them entirely but today she’d needed to get out even if the goon was going to follow her. “So…where does one find a good burger around here?” Winter glanced towards the ghost who only shrugged, not seeming interested. He didn’t have to eat.

They’d been tired lately. More tired than usual, more worn down. The Pit had been working them hard, and Felix knew they were in no place to argue. They did what was asked of them, or they suffered the consequences. And they really, really didn’t like the consequences. As such, the coffee shop near the library had become a go-to spot, a way of fighting off the exhaustion before it had them doing stupid, embarrassing things like napping in public.

Or… seeing things?

They squinted at the sight of a young woman wandering down the street, talking to the air. Quiet instinct had them shifting their eyes just a little, just enough to make out the translucent shape of a person hovering behind her. A person with cold eyes and one arm dangling bloodied at their side, with a silent gaze and a strange presence. A ghost, Felix realized with a cold start.

Which made the woman speaking to it a medium.

Immediately, fear rose up in their chest. They’d been warned about mediums all their lives. Exorcists were the most dangerous, of course, but any medium could cause problems for a balam if they chose to. Felix’s heart was pounding in their chest, eyes wide as they locked with the ghost’s. They knew they should turn and leave, but they felt the woman turn towards them and there was no way she missed the fact that he was staring directly at her ghost.

As she looked around for someplace that served a damn burger, Winter’s eye was caught by someone who looked as if he were frozen to his spot. She wondered briefly if this was the town's offer of street performers or some other strange goings on that had no explanation until she realized the person was…afraid? Not only that but they were staring and not at her either. Her eyes followed the guy’s eyeline directly to the ghost staring straight back at them and it clicked. This person could see him. It was the first time anybody had ever been able to see him other than the medium and all at once many different emotions seemed to hit her but one stuck out more than the others: Relief. She wasn’t actually insane if another could interact with this thing, right?

But she also had to confirm. With that confirmation would come questions, lots of them, and without a doubt she needed to know whether or not she was imagining things. So, Winter started toward him as she tried to think of how to word this but before she could come up with anything that would sound less accusatory she heard just that come from her mouth. “You can see him?”

Of course she would come right out and say that. She wasn’t even sure why she had tried to come up with a different method. Abrasive was her nature and there was no changing that, even in a small town. “How can you see him? Are you a medium?” Now that she was close enough to them she could feel a shift around her. The presence of her friend always gave her this weird sensation but getting closer to this other person only made that feeling worse. It was heavier, thicker somehow, but she was wondering if maybe that was what happened when she was around someone who had the same abilities as her. It only gave Winter more hope that she’d found someone with answers rather than more questions.

She was walking towards them. A medium was walking towards them, and Felix wanted to turn and run. Their heart was pounding in their throat, thudding so hard at their pulsepoint that they were half-worried it was going to explode through their skin and make a mess all over the street. A medium was walking towards them, and they’d been warned against this all their life. All shifters fear hunters, their mother had told them once, but balams fear more than that. We have mediums, too. Never let them know about the jaguar, mijo. They’ll rip you in half if they do. And now, there was a medium walking towards them and their feet were nailed to the floor.

She stopped in front of them and, for a moment, they were worried she was going to launch into an exorcism right then and there. They’d been taught to fear mediums, but they had no concept of what they really did outside of those stories that turned them into monsters hiding in closets, always ready to pounce. But rather than do anything monstrous, this one just… asked a question.

Felix didn’t answer at first, still frozen where they stood. And maybe it was a good thing that they didn’t because, in the next breath, that medium was giving them an out. Are you a medium? Relief flooded them, and Felix nodded their head quickly. “Yeah,” they lied, stumbling over the word a little. They were a bad liar, but they could manage it. “Yeah, I’m a medium. Not a very good one, though.” Hopefully that would be enough to cover their ass if the stranger started talking about things mediums should know but Felix didn’t. “Um, do you — Do you know that guy? The one following you, with the arm?”

Fuck. Not a very good one most likely meant no more answers than what she already had. She wanted to scream with the frustration that was building but that probably wouldn’t have been a good idea with how nervous this person had looked. They seemed to be very on edge for some reason and the last thing she wanted was to lose the first real lead she had in this town. Winter couldn’t hide the disappointment settling in though. “Perfect. I thought maybe you could tell me more about…this.” She gestured up and down with her arm in the general direction of the man standing behind her causing the ghost to scoff. “But I guess not. Unless you know why a ghost would suddenly follow someone around like they’re attached at the hip?”

The question made her pause. She never even thought about possibly being able to see the people that she knew if they were to come back as spirits for a split second her mind traveled to her own great grandmother. Why hadn’t Winter thought to try and contact her before? The same ritual that brought this fucker in her life should be able to do the same for her, right? She sighed and shook her head at the other. “No, I have no idea who he is. All he does is glare at me and grunt when he feels like I’m ignoring him. Which I do frequently.”

So many questions were starting to pile up at once. She really could have done a rapid fire with them all but that would have been so counterproductive and might have even made them skittish again. Winter stuck with the first one that came to mind. “How did you find out you were a medium?” She was curious. Did mediums usually always know who they were or did the ability just show up at some point?

She seemed to believe them, at least, and there was a crippling relief to that. She didn’t look like a threat, but Felix had grown up with the idea that all mediums were a threat ground into them. Hunters, mediums, exorcists — they were all monsters under a young balam’s bed, all waiting to snatch their ankles when they walked by, to trip them up, to hurt them. They wanted nothing more than to get away from this one, but they had to do so without arousing suspicion. So… they had to be useless, pretty much. Which was easy. Felix was very good at being useless. “Uh, all I can tell you is that it’s a ghost. I don’t know why they follow people. They just do, I guess?” That much was true. They’d always known about ghosts, even seen a few, but they hadn’t really been taught about them. Ghosts weren’t really important.

At least… not to balams. To mediums? To her? They definitely were. There was a flash of sympathy towards her, a hint of pity. It would suck, wouldn’t it, to have one follow you around without knowing why? Balams could essentially ‘turn off’ their ability to see ghosts by making themselves unshift. But mediums? They didn’t come with an on/off switch. “That’s… weird. I mean, if I were a ghost, I’d want to follow someone I’d loved. You know? Or… someone I’d hated, even.” They liked to think they’d terrorize Leo if they died and came back as a ghost, but they knew it probably wasn’t the case. Even in death, Felix would probably be a coward.

Oh. Oh, no. She had more questions, and Felix was already out of their depth. He was bad at this. At lying, at trying to convince someone of something that was decidedly untrue. Sweat prickled the back of their neck, and they brought a hand up to wipe it away uncertainly. “Uh… Always, I guess? I’ve always been able to see ghosts.” True. That was true. It was easier to tell lies that were based in the truth, easier to convince people of them. Felix had used this to their advantage more than once. “What about you?”

Her face scrunched up with confusion as the person seemed just as clueless as her. Were ghosts really that much of a mystery? Her great grandmother’s book was vague but the older woman sounded like she knew what she was talking about at least. “They just follow people around? He seems to hate me so I’m not understanding why he would keep following me by choice.” It couldn’t be by choice. Winter hadn’t seen many other ghosts since he had shown up but everyday it seemed more and more were becoming visible to her, some clearer while some not so much, and none of them were following her around just to glare at her. Unless the ghost just really liked annoying the hell out of her which was a dick move on his part.

“This is so frustrating,” Winter sighed, arms crossing over her chest while her thoughts started to move a hundred miles an hour. Maybe she had known the guy before but couldn’t recognize him and that’s why he was pissed at her? But she felt that she would remember someone if she had elicited such strong feelings from them. “He won’t even talk to me to make this easier.” With those words the ghost took on a smug grin, like he was proud that he was making this so difficult, and if Winter could have hit him she would have.

“You don’t seem to know very much for someone who’s always been able to see them. You never bothered to learn more?” She wasn’t an idiot, she knew that there was a majority of people out there who didn’t care enough to research the things they were involved in. But something as big as being able to see ghosts? Winter thought that maybe something like that would prompt some higher education. Of course, that had always been how her mind worked. If she didn’t understand something she worked as hard as she could to make sure that she soon did. His question threw her off guard and her mind had been so focused on other things that the answer blurted out with no regards to her career before she could stop herself. “No, I couldn’t see them until a month or two ago.” Winter paused, realizing what she had done, before clearing her throat. “Could you keep that between us, by the way?”

“Maybe not all of them?” Felix was out of their depth here, their anxiety at being face to face with something that had always been a monster under their bed only serving to make their explanations less helpful. “I don’t know if they choose to or anything. Um, maybe he’s tied to you. Somehow.” They were blowing it, weren’t they? She was going to figure out they weren’t a medium, and then —

And then. Logically, he knew that the ‘and then’ was probably nothing. She’d figure out they weren’t a medium, and she’d leave, or she’d be disappointed, or she’d ask why they’d lied. But their father’s voice in their head insisted on something more sinister, as if she’d realize what they were and immediately launch into an exorcism to tear the jaguar spirit from his chest and kill him in the process. It was stupid. They knew it was stupid. Still, the fear was a strong one, and it kept them from telling the truth.

“Um, maybe — Maybe he can’t talk. I think some ghosts can’t talk.” There were ones who were stuck in loops, weren’t there? They thought they remembered their mother saying as much once, thought it had been a conversation. Was this ghost stuck in some loop that left him following a medium around? It didn’t seem likely, but what did Felix know? Despite their claims, they weren’t a medium.

Which… might be becoming a little more obvious.

They stiffened as she questioned why they’d never learned more, shrugging uncertainly. “I just, um, I had other things to worry about. And I don’t see them all the time. I mean, I don’t see a lot of them. It’s not like there’s a ghost on every corner. Right?” God, was there a ghost on every corner? Felix only saw them when they were in a partially shifted state. “Yeah, no, I won’t tell anyone about you if you don’t tell anyone about me.” A more experienced medium might be able to tell what they were, after all. “Um… Is this the first one you saw? The one who follows you.”

“You think?” All of their answers were getting stranger and stranger and suddenly a light bulb went off in her mind. They had no clue what they were talking about, did they? Now, Winter was new to this whole thing herself and she didn’t have a lot of the answers but how had they been able to see them their whole life and know virtually nothing about them? Nothing seemed right about this conversation at all and everything pointed to them not being what they said they were but what else could explain why this person could see ghosts? They had clearly been staring at the man following Winter around and they had even mentioned the arm that was grotesquely injured so there was no doubt that they could. She was even more confused now.

“You keep stumbling over your answers and you don’t know what you’re talking about.” She took a step back from the person and narrowed her eyes towards them, her voice matter of fact. A soft clapping could be heard coming from the ghost standing behind her as if he were congratulating her on not being stupid for once and Winter let out a frustrated breath. Now wasn’t the time for whoever this ghost was to be an asshole.

Maybe she was on the right path with her suspicions or maybe this person was just like her and embarrassed to admit it but something was off. “Why are you so nervous?” The questioning ended there. This time she wouldn’t give them anything to work with, she wanted a point blank answer from their lips. In her excitement earlier she’d given away too much too quickly. Not answering their questions, Winter looked defiant while she stood rooted to her spot to block their path. There was nothing stopping them from turning and leaving of course but there was also nothing stopping her from going after them if they did. “I’m not saying anything else about them until I figure out what’s going on here. I’m not going to say anything about you but clearly you’re not apt to sharing and I feel like I’ve given too much away.”

They weren’t a very convincing fake medium. Everything they said was shrouded in doubt, uncertainty clinging to every response. They wished their parents had expanded more on this aspect of their abilities, but the ghosts had always been something of an afterthought to everything else. The jaguar was what mattered; the ghosts were a side effect. Felix had been given the barest instructions in regards to the spectral beings that they sometimes spotted, things like try not to let them know you can see them or they’ll bother you and don’t let them know what you are, because they might sell you out to save themselves. Did the ghost lurking behind this medium know? Would he throw Felix under the bus if it meant saving himself from an exorcism?

“Sorry,” he stammered, looking down at his feet. “I don’t — I mean, it’s not something I really, um, focused on? I guess? I just, I just ignored them. All the time. I usually don’t even look at them, but I didn’t know you knew about yours and I just — Sorry. I’m sorry.” Their heart was pounding, discomfort clear in their expression, in their stance. It was only natural that she’d see that, too.

A new fear shot through them as she called it out, heart in their throat. Their eyes darted around like they were searching for an escape route, but what good would that do them? They’d already given so much away. Running wouldn’t get them anywhere, lies were running out. “I — I don’t know. I don’t really know what to say. Um, I just — I’m sorry. For looking at your ghost. I’m not —” They paused, eyes still darting around wildly. Their expression was more like that of a trapped animal than a person trying to explain themself; maybe that, too, was telling. “I’m not really like you. I think. It’s different. There are different, um, levels to it.” Misleading, but not necessarily a lie. The level at which mediums saw ghosts did differ from what Felix saw, just like they imagined what the undead saw was different than what mediums experienced.

She was already annoyed about them giving such vague answers but the more that they rambled out their sorry’s the more annoyed she felt because it only added to her confusion. “Woah, chill out. It’s not the first time I thought I was onto something only to be disappointed.” Shrugging a shoulder, Winter tried to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. When people got angry or wanted to be snippy with her she could dish it back without a second thought but if they started acting erratic in a way it almost made her uncomfortable.

But then this person seemed like they were on the brink of a meltdown, the girl starting to wonder if she should be concerned. It was like fear had gripped them in a vice hold. Where they were nervous before, now they were acting as if she was on a mission to obliterate them from the planet or something. The behavior was too skittish, too close to panic for her liking. “Uh, okay, it’s fine. I mean, you don’t have to apologize for looking at him, he seems to be fine with it.” Winter went to reach out a hand to try and comfort them but she stopped half way, not sure if touching them was a good idea.

“Are you-...are you okay? Is he scaring you or something?” She turned her head but kept her eyes on the breathing person in front of her, Winter trying to get a glimpse of the ghost in her peripheral vision to see if he was doing something to cause this. From what she could tell the ghost was just standing there, even taking a step or two back to try and appease the person she was talking to.

She said she wasn’t angry, and that was good. A disappointed medium was far preferable to an angry one, because an angry medium was dangerous. (Some would claim a medium was dangerous in and of themselves, that there needed to be no descriptors to make them so; Felix liked to try to look more on the bright side of things. It had never worked well for them in the past, but… First time for everything, right?) They nodded their head, doing their best to follow her instructions and ‘chill.’ It was hard. Felix was not, as it turned out, a very chill person.

“Okay.” She didn’t know. She still didn’t know, still thought they were a medium like her. Felix was being paranoid, assuming she could sense that something was off, somehow. Their father told them once that mediums could tell when a balam was near, but… maybe he hadn’t been telling the truth. Or maybe this medium was so new to it that she didn’t recognize the feeling. Balam were pretty rare, and she didn’t seem to have a good grasp on her abilities. It was entirely possible that Felix was the first balam she’d ever met before. Had he, for once in his life, gotten lucky? Or did she just not care? It was also possible, after all, that Felix was putting far more stock into this than she was.

Shrugging their shoulders, they looked down. “I’m not really used to meeting people who can see them.” That much was certainly true. Felix had only ever met balam who could see ghosts, and that was largely intentional. Mediums were far scarier than people who were like him, after all. There was an unknown factor to them, a big question mark answered only by stories their father had told them that might or might not have been the truth. “Um, can I ask… Do you… do anything with it? You know, like, uh… work? As a medium. Or an… exorcist?” The word was enough to send their heart to their throat, thrumming nervously.

All hope of finding anything out from this person was lost. She could feel the annoyance inside seeping into her pores but she wouldn’t make them even more uncomfortable with an attitude or she feared they would run their mouth about how inexperienced she was with this. She was supposed to be an expert and yet here Winter was yelling at people on the street about being able to see a ghost she had just started seeing and grilling them about those abilities. If this got out what would people think? Would the show tank?

Almost ready to walk away from them now that she’d established they had nothing of value to her, Winter let a sigh slip past her lips when she heard their questions. There was one thrown in there that had thoroughly confused her though and without thinking she let the comment she should have held slip out. “An exorcist? I’m not a priest, I see ghosts. You’ve seen the movie, right?” Wait, was that real? “Are demons a thing?”

She was really showing her cards, wasn’t she? It wasn’t something that Winter usually did but she was irritated and off her game so this person was getting a rare side of her; the truthful one. What was the point in changing it up now? “I have my own show. Have you ever heard of Spirit Speak? We were in the middle of filming the fifth episode of season four when I decided to take a hiatus. Why? Are you thinking of doing something with it? I’ve never had another medium guest star but it would be different and I think the audience would like it.”

Okay, so she wasn’t an exorcist. Immediately, Felix felt a burst of relief. Mediums were dangerous, sure, but exorcists were next level. If this woman didn’t even realize that exorcism was real, she wasn’t as much of a threat as they’d feared she might be. Felix was safe, and so was the jaguar. At least for the moment, at least from this particular threat.

“I don’t know if demons are real,” they admitted. Another thing their family hadn’t really spoken about. They’d always been told about exorcists going after ghosts and poltergeists, dissipating them under the impression that they were doing some kind of ‘duty.’ They’d been led to believe that exorcists would go after balam for the same reason, that they’d see Felix and their family as some kind of cosmic mistake that needed to be wiped out just as much as rangers saw them as a threat that needed to be eliminated, though they weren’t sure how much truth was in that. Perhaps the existence of exorcists implied that demons were real, or maybe some things were still make believe. It was hard to tell.

Hesitantly, Felix shook their head. “I haven’t seen it,” they admitted, sounding apologetic. It wasn’t a surprise, of course; for obvious reasons, Felix didn’t tend to watch reality shows about mediums. The very idea of their existence gave him anxiety, so subjecting himself to shows placing them on a stage, even when the things they were ‘seeing’ were invented for views, wasn’t exactly his idea of fun. “Uh, no. I don’t — I wouldn’t be good at that.” They hated their current career, but they would hate working as a ‘professional medium’ even more. Especially since it would probably attract the attention of real mediums, who Felix wanted to stay far, far away from. “I don’t want to be on your show. Sorry. Um, it’s just not really my thing.”

“Hmm, sounds fake.” She wasn’t even sure if she was commenting on actual demons or the fact that they didn’t know if they were real or not. Something about this person was off, she’d felt it since the beginning of their conversation, but Winter couldn’t place it at all. The feeling she got around them, the way they would splutter with her questions, their terrified nature…okay, maybe the terrified nature wasn’t as abnormal since they could see ghosts. But everything else seemed weird about this whole meeting and her trust in this stranger was starting to dwindle to nothing. Why had she even trusted a stranger in the first place?

Her annoyance started to build once more. She didn’t expect everyone to have watched Spirit Speak, Winter didn’t care about that, but being rejected always rubbed her the wrong way no matter what she had been offering. “You’re probably right.” She wasn’t going to force them, of course, not that she could. “It’s okay though, not everyone is comfortable in front of a camera. Not like you have much information about any of this anyway.” Running a hand through her hair, the medium sighed softly. “Look, I appreciate you talking to me but I need to go grab something to eat before I starve. It was nice to meet you,-”

A realization hit her as her sentence stopped short. It was typical of her to be this far into a conversation and not know this person’s name. Had they mentioned it before? Winter was known in her circle for never remembering something that important but she really couldn’t remember if they’d exchanged them or not. “-Uh, your name has slipped my mind. What was it again?”

“In this town, a lot of things sound fake that aren’t.” They wondered if she knew that yet, or if ghosts were as far as she’d gotten. Selfishly, they hoped she didn’t know much more than what she could see in front of her. If she didn’t know balam existed, she’d have less reason to want to do something about it. It was unfair, they knew; so far, she’d given them no reason to believe that she had any kind of ill-intent towards them. If anything, she’d been kinder than most would have bothered. After all, Felix had essentially been lying to her face from the get-go, and they weren’t nearly a good enough liar for her not to have some inclination that she wasn’t being told the whole truth.

There was some relief when she accepted his rejection well enough, though he could tell that she wasn’t exactly thrilled at the fact that her show was unfamiliar to him. Part of Felix wanted to offer some explanation — I’m afraid of ghosts, maybe, or I’m really superstitious, or, hey, even I lived in a cabin in the woods for the last fifteen years and didn’t get out much — but they didn’t want to draw any more attention to the oddities of the conversation. And, in any case, it seemed like she was leaving. They felt guilty for the relief this flooded them with, but it couldn’t really be helped, could it? “Oh, yeah. Food’s important. Gotta, uh, get those three square meals in.” God, why couldn’t they ever stop talking?

They shifted a little, wondering if they should lie here. But what good would a fake name do? They were feeling less and less like she was a threat, even as the anxiety continued to swirl in their chest. “Felix,” they replied. “Um, I’m not sure I got yours, either…?”

“Tell me about it.” Her voice was gruff as her mind traveled back to the slumber party. In many ways it was a night where her life had changed forever. She now knew of things that she had a feeling she wasn’t supposed to know but in a way it was good. Winter could keep an eye out now, know to stay alert while walking these streets. This thought process only reminded her of how easily she’d run up to a stranger with no idea of who or what they were just because she thought they had answers and she had an overwhelming need to scold herself for doing so with words that softly slipped from her lips. “I’m an idiot.”

At least they seemed more scared of her than she could ever be of them though. If their aesthetic of always being on the edge of a nervous breakdown wasn’t indication enough that they were most likely harmless she didn’t know what was. Winter eyed them for a moment, the comment about three square meals only further proof that they were a little hopeless but she still felt like she owed them something for seemingly terrifying them just moments ago. “Are you hungry? I feel like I owe you for bum rushing you earlier.”

Again, her annoyance started to bubble up. This town must not have many televisions in it because they weren’t the first to ask for her name around here. It wasn’t as if her show wasn’t as popular as she thought. “Winter…not like randomly saying the season, that’s my name.”

“What? No, you’re not — I don’t think you’re an idiot.” Did she know? Did she suspect, now, that Felix wasn’t what they’d claimed. Anxiety curled up in their throat, clamped a hand in their lungs and made it hard to breathe for a moment. But she didn’t seem as scary as she had before, in spite of everything. She didn’t seem like as much of a threat, didn’t seem like she was going to hurt them. Maybe it was because they knew now how inexperienced she was, that she was just starting out in whatever this life was. They doubted anyone had told them about balam, and they doubted they carried whatever fear existed to make some exorcists figure that exorcising them was the best path forward. Maybe if Felix befriended her before someone did, she wouldn’t want to… hurt them.

So they nodded at the offer, finding that their stomach did feel emptier than it had before she’d asked. Whether that was because her question got them thinking about food or because all the panic had given them an appetite, they weren’t sure. Either way, they figured they could go for a free meal. “I could eat,” they confirmed with a small, uncertain smile.

Winter. They committed the name to memory with a nod. “It’s nice to meet you, Winter,” they said hesitantly. They hoped, more than anything, that they wouldn’t be proven wrong with that statement later.

#Threads #Thread: Felix #Small Medium at Large

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fortuositywritings · 3 years

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I Said No (Wanda x R): Pt 9

Summary: You get your ass handed to you. You have fun times with Wanda only for a rude awakening.

Warnings: a lot of cursing, alcohol

If anyone asks her, Laura loves her cousin. She loves you. She really, really does. But sometimes you were a bit of a pain or rather a handful and everyone knows pregnant women should not be carrying too much. So, she can’t help but be glad that there are other people here to help lighten the load.

Is it wrong that lightening the load includes allowing her husband’s ex-assassin of a best friend to basically manhandle you, said cousin she claims to love so much, at 6am in the morning? It may be a little worrisome, yes. But what is really wrong here is how she is sitting front and center, watching it all happen in front of her a little too amusedly.

Could you really blame her though? She’s pregnant. She knows she wouldn’t be able to stand watching you get thrown around, especially on her swollen feet.

It seems everyone woke up early to watch Nat “teach you self-defense”. You’ve been outside for an hour now and no one has moved from their seats. Oh, no that’s a lie. Clint did go inside once, only for him to come right back offering everyone some lemonade. Even the critters are there sitting criss cross next to Pietro on the grass sipping on their lemonades.

“So when does the self-defense part start?” you ask, out of breath. You weren’t doing anything, but falling on your ass repeatedly sure makes one sweat.

“When you start defending yourself,” Nat quips. You respond with a baffled, “What?!”

“Arms up, Y/N!” you hear your cousin shout as you prepare yourself to get thrown again.

“Look, if you are still mad about the Yelena Incident, I’m sure there could have been another less violent way to get your frustrations out.” Nat rolls her eyes and in what feels like a second, there are legs wrapped around your head in not a sexy way and you are flipped onto the ground.

“OH!!!” Everyone yells, as you feel the wind knock out of you. You hear the kids shouting, “Do it again!”

“No, don’t do it again,” you wheeze out. You feel someone rush to your side.

“Are you okay?” Wanda helps you sit up. An angel, that woman. She turns to glare at Nat. “Did you really have to do that?”

“Relax, she’s fine.” Nat answers, not bothered in any way. Either she’s blind or she’s delusional thinking you took her go-to take-down-the-bad-guy move like a simple scratch on the knee. Wanda gets visibly upset by Nat’s careless demeanor, little wisps of red magic trickling from her hand. She moves to confront Natasha and you think it might be you that is delusional when you stop Wanda, red wisps tickling your hand, and say, “It’s okay. I’m good.”

“See!” Nat throws her hands up.

“You should have put your arms up,” your cousin says off to the side. You narrow your eyes at her after Wanda helps you up. “Yes, Laura. Thank you so much. That would have really saved me from her spinny-upsidedown-flippity-whateverthefuck that was.”

Sam and Clint snicker beside your cousin at your description of Nat’s signature move. She gives you the watch-your-language look that you completely ignore. “Why don’t you come and show me how that was meant to help?”

“Can’t. Pregnant. Sorry,” your cousin motions to her belly. You shake your head, “Excuses, excuses.”

“I do know some self-defense though and I think it is really important to learn so I’m rooting for you on the side lines,” Laura adds. Not believing a word she said, you ask, “And who taught you self-defense? ‘Cause I know for a fact it wasn’t Nat. You wouldn’t be cruel enough to put me through the same torture.”

“I taught her. She’s a pretty decent shot too,” Clint admits proudly.

“No way. You can shoot?” Sam looks at Laura as skeptical as you do. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Hun, bring out your gear,” your cousin says, getting everyone excited. Pietro and Sam help her stand and move over to get a clear shot of where Clint put up a target. Everyone stands aside and watches in anticipation when Clint hands his wife a bow and an arrow. She nocks the arrow back, aims, shoots, and nearly hits the bullseye, leaving everyone’s mouth agape.

“Okay, impressive,” Sam says.

“No way. You made that look way too easy. Let me try,” you say, wanting to give it a go, and a go you give alright, the arrow ricocheting off a tree (not even the tree that had the target on it) and heading towards Peter’s face. Luckily his reflexes or what he’s described as some kind of tingle kicks in and he catches the arrow on time.

You let out a sigh of relief seeing that you have not accidentally killed someone. You didn’t want to be a murderer let alone be known as the asshole that killed Spiderman by accident. You flood Peter’s ears with apologies and though he says it’s all good, you still feel really bad and ask Wanda if she could help you bake him some cookies or something later.

Everyone heads inside after that near death experience. Everyone but you and Nat who says, “Playtime’s over. Let’s do this for real now.”

“Wait, that wasn’t it?!”

Another two hours go by. Wanda wonders why you haven’t barged in the room yet to “bother” her. You should have been done undergoing Nat’s painful lesson by now. Finding it odd that you have yet to make an appearance, Wanda sets out to find you. She sees Natasha sitting at the kitchen table. When she asks her about your whereabouts and gets a “Who knows” as a response, she knows something is up. Nat always knows, so Wanda presses, “What did she say and where did you leave her?”

Natasha eventually tells her where you are. Wanda finds you outside, hosing yourself off. You are covered in mud, which Wanda can only assume was Nat’s doing. “Why did you have to antagonize her?”

You look up to see Wanda staring at you unimpressed, arms crossed and all. You defend, “You have to admit, had you the opportunity, you would have done the same.”

“You mean tell her you’ve now had two Romanov’s thighs around your head and then ask where her mom was because you wanted to ‘complete the set’,” Wanda says, uncrossing her arms to do air quotes.

“Come on, let me have this, Wanda. You should have seen it! It was glorious. The set up, the delivery, the punch,” you throw your arms in the air dramatically, hose in hand splashing water everywhere. Your body aches and you yelp, “Ow.”

Wanda only shakes her head at you. You pout and turn the hose off. “I’ve never met her mom, but she probably would’ve at least chuckled appreciating a good line. I know Yelena for sure would’ve tried not to giggle before kicking my ass as well.”

Wanda doesn’t mean to let out the grunt of annoyance at the mention of this Yelena, but it happens. Luckily, you either don’t hear it or ignore it as you pass by her, stopping to take off your shoes by the door. Before heading inside, you turn to her and coyly ask, “Do you think you could help me wash some of the mud away upstairs? I don’t think I can reach some parts on my own.”

It doesn’t take a psychic to know Wanda helping you scrub your back is not what you actually have in mind. She tries her best not to stutter as she says, “Of course, what are friends for?”

You head up to the shower first. Wanda waits downstairs two minutes before following up, thinking it was enough time for it not to seem suspicious. Clint, who is in the laundry room, though back turned the whole time, still notices and pipes up right as Wanda takes the first step up.

“Just keep in mind the acoustics of the bathroom,” he warns Wanda. Though he doesn’t see her, based on the clumsy rushed steps after, he knows she was blushing the whole way upstairs.

Having Wanda in the shower, double entendre intended, proves to be a good thing because it turns out you do in fact need help scrubbing some of the mud that somehow made it down your back. Wanda gets on your case again about agitating Nat but it’s hard to really focus on what she’s saying when her hands are all over you, even if she is just scrubbing you down.

An hour later, Laura and Nat sit at the kitchen table and try not to laugh at you struggling with the measuring cups. Sam holds no reservations in laughing in your face. “How does a grown ass woman not know how to measure some flour?”

Wanda makes a face and he corrects himself, “I hear how that sounded. Let me rephrase. How does a grown ass adult who has had to pass middle school to get into college not know how to measure some flour?”

“Unnecessary jibe at my education aside, Sam, I appreciate you rephrasing that. Back to the matter at hand, I’d like to see you try, bitch,” you challenge him, handing over all the measuring kitchen equipment.

“Gladly.” He takes your place, leaving you to go stand beside Wanda. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

You all watch him as he looks over the recipe. You think he is just bluffing about his skills, making a grand show of it all. That is until he turns back to Wanda to ask, “Two batches, right?” Then at her nod, he goes into British Bake Off mode or whatever you would call x game mode for baking.

Seeing him confidently measuring ingredient after ingredient, you lean over to Wanda and ask under your breath, “Is he doing it right?”

“Yes, he is.”

“Damn it,” you huff out. Sam overhears and chuckles, his ego inflating by the minute. You pout at Sam having taken over what was meant to be a fun activity for you and Wanda to do, but he seems like he is really enjoying showing off so you can’t be too mad. Wanda finds your pout too cute and can’t help but press a quick kiss to your lips, surprising you both. You are both blushing and she tries to play it off cool. “You did say whenever I wanted.”

“I did say that, yes,” you recall. She smiles and then gives you another chaste kiss, more confidently this time, before heading over to Sam. “Alright, leave Y/N to do something, show off.”

Meanwhile, you are trying to calm your racing heart at her kissing you so openly, which is when you realize you have an audience. You’re afraid to see if Laura and Nat saw. You turn around slowly. They clearly did, your cousin’s raised eyebrow indicating so. It makes you blush harder, so you turn back around and go to see what you can do.

Wanda and Sam give you the job of rolling the cookie dough into little balls after moving you away from setting the oven heat because you tried to turn up the heat by double in order to “bake the cookies faster”. They explain why you couldn’t do that.

“Yeah, I knew that,” you say, as you lower the temperature back down. “I was just testing you guys.”

No one believes you but they don’t say anything. Nat and your cousin watch with interest as Wanda and Sam pull your hand full of raw dough away from your mouth when you try to taste it. You lie and say you were testing them again.

Peter and Pietro trail into the kitchen at the smell of the cookies baking. Sam takes them out once they are ready. Pietro tries to grab a cookie first, but you are faster, smacking his hand away. “Peter gets the first cookie. They were meant to be for him.”

Peter, who has been lingering shyly behind Pietro, perks up. He asks you, “Why?”

“For nearly killing you. Sorry about that. Sam technically did nearly everything, which might have been for the best given my lack of skills in the kitchen. But it’s the thought, right?” you ramble.

“You didn’t have to, but thank you. I won’t say no to cookies. They all look good. Let’s just all dig in,” Peter says, seeing Pietro’s grumbly face. Pietro cheers up at that and mutters, “Finally.”

Laura sees you and the guys reaching for a cookie and warns, “Careful, they’re hot,” but the cookies are already in your mouths.

“Fuck!” “Shit!” “H-h-hot!” All three of you yell but none of you spit the cookies out. Instead, you all choose to look ridiculous cooling the cookies with your mouths open. Sam looks at you three like the dumbasses you are. Your cousin and Nat look unfazed and Wanda is practically doubled over laughing so hard that you can’t even hear it because she’s having trouble breathing.

“Get out of my kitchen. Come back when you have proof y’all graduated elementary school.” Sam kicks you out of the kitchen, Pietro grabbing some cookies before being shooed away. You head outside and decide to play some basketball. Cooper and Lila come and join you and a few minutes later so does Wanda.

You pause, holding the ball in your hands as Wanda walks up to you.

“What? Did you finish your two pages of reading for the day that quickly or did you just miss me?” you tease her. She gives you a sarcastic smile before snatching the ball away. “Two chapters actually.” She then goes to line up her shot. She shoots and scores, turning back to you with a smug smile at which you shake your head.

“Hey, you can’t walk with the ball. That doesn’t count!” Pietro whines. You fight for her point, telling him to just let her have it, which he does not let go without pointing out, “Oh, so when I do it, it’s not a point, but when Lila and Wanda do it, it counts? How is that fair?”

“Because she’s six and she’s cute, Pietro. That’s why it counts,” you reply.

“Okay, but what about my sister?”

“I just explained. Lila is six and Wanda is cute. Come on, man. Keep up.” Wanda overhears and blushes hard. Pietro laughs at his sister, embarrassing her further. You take the ball away from his hands while he is distracted and then pass it to Lila.

You do way better this game than the last time you played. You still lost but progress.

The next morning feels like a rinse and repeat. Nat wakes you up, you go for the morning hike, you complain the whole time. Breakfast is a different story. Laura’s lower back has been aching and she’s been having contractions, one of which comes while you’re eating, scaring most of you. You get straight to your feet asking where the baby bag is and Pietro rushes to find the keys saying, “I’ll start the car!”

Peter pipes, “I think someone else should drive.”

“Everyone calm down. I don’t need to go anywhere. The baby’s not coming yet,” your cousin reassures everyone, specifically her husband and Nat who are at her side. Everyone lets out a breath of relief. You ask where the baby bag is anyway to know when the time does come. She says there isn’t one and then Nat is on Clint and your heads about not being prepared.

“I got here after you did,” you defend yourself. She then looks over to Clint who says, “I’ve been saving the world.”

“Always an excuse with you two,” Nat chides.

And so the afternoon finds Clint, Sam, and Nat going to buy the essentials, while the rest of you help clean up around the house. Wanda is left to supervise Lila and Cooper clean their rooms, Peter is in charge of vacuuming upstairs, Pietro is given dish washing duty, and you are given the broom and mop.

Your cousin relaxes on the couch in the meantime. You yell up the stairs that you will be mopping now, warning everyone to watch their step. You repeat the same to your cousin who sarcastically says, “I think the whole town heard you, Y/N.”

“Well, excuse me for caring for everyone’s well being,” you retort, continuing your chores. You’re nearly finished. You just need Pietro to be done in the kitchen so you can mop there. You sit and wait in Clint and Laura’s little home office.

You swivel around in the chair, looking around curiously until something calls your attention, that something being the laminator. You try to think of something fun to laminate but think of nothing interesting. Then you remember something and rush upstairs to get it.

You pass Peter who asks if he can go downstairs now having finished vacuuming. You say yes but tell him not to go into the kitchen yet. You grab what you are looking for in your bag and head back downstairs to laminate it. Before you do, you write a message on the back.

Dear Scarlet Wizard, please stop hurting the books. Thank you. Y/N :)

Then you laminate the strip. You look over your finished product proudly before tucking it into your back pocket. You’re about to head out of the office when Pietro’s voice crescendos, heeding you of his presence before he appears. “Just ask her, Wanda. She’s seen you in them. I don’t know why you are embarrassed.”

That piques your interest. Pietro finally appears, with Wanda lingering behind him, looking like she’d much rather be anywhere else. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Pietro looks back at Wanda expectantly, but when she doesn’t say anything, he explains for her. “She needs help washing her underpants.”

“Pietro!” Wanda shouts, her face giving a new meaning to her superhero name with how red it turns. She moves forward, spluttering, “I asked Laura if I could wash some of my clothes. She said yes, but I don’t know how to work this machine and I didn’t want to make her get up to show me, and Pietro told me to ask you, so…”

She trails off shyly, wanting to bury herself in the nearest ditch right after she murders her brother for putting her in this position. Wanda hadn’t prepared to stay so long and hadn’t brought extra clothes. Now she regrets not being like Peter who overprepares. She wonders how her brother hasn’t run out of clean underwear but she thinks it’s better not to ask, predicting she won’t like whatever the answer is; Pietro is not someone who is over prepared either.

“That’s it?” you ask, not seeing what the big deal was, but you can see that Wanda is still looking rather awkward about it, so you don’t question it too much. Rather you comment, “I was actually wondering if you all just overpack for breaks. I mean I know Nat has extra clothes here in the house but I was wondering about the rest of you.”

“Peter is the only one who does the most,” Pietro says.

“Hey, I heard that!” Peter yells coming in to join the three of you. You turn to Pietro and ask, “Then what do you do?”

“He used the same underwear after he showered,” Peter explains. You and Wanda make a face of disgust and Pietro makes one of irritation. Peter runs off upstairs when Pietro starts chasing him, “Don’t tell her that!”

“I shouldn’t have asked,” you tell Wanda, who agrees with you. Then you motion for her to follow you into the little laundry room. You show her how to work the machine. She throws her clothes in and follows your instructions. Once the machine gets going, you decide to tease her now that you are alone. “It’s just underwear, Wanda. Pietro was right. No need to be shy about it when I’ve seen it both on and off you.”

She starts blushing again. She hides behind her hands and groans, “Ugh, I should have asked Laura.”

You continue on anyway, “In fact, I remember one instance where you were enjoying when I tugged them o-” You were cut off short by Wanda’s hands covering your mouth. “Stop talking.”

Your laughter is muffled but it’s there nonetheless, finding Wanda’s coyness endearing. She defends herself, recalling a story about you, “You are one to talk, Miss Purple Boxer-Briefs.”

You grab hold of her wrists, removing her hands from your mouth in order to speak. “Hey, that’s different.” You walk forwards, making Wanda take steps back until her back is against the wall. “I was not planning for anyone to see me in those. I was just taking one for the team, thinking the house was getting robbed.”

“Mhmm, sure.” Wanda giggles.This time it’s you saying, “Oh, be quiet, Maximoff.”

“Make me, L/N.”

You sputter in surprise, eyes widening at her words. Hers stare right into yours, challenging you to make a move. And she has the audacity to have a smirk on her face as if she wasn’t madly blushing about dirty underwear a few minutes ago. Where the hell did that girl go?

“Are you just going to stand there and look at me a-”

You surge forward and kiss her hard. Wanda can’t help but smile at getting her way, making it a little hard to kiss her. So you take the moment to break it and ask, “Hey, who told you my last name?”

“The same asshole that gave you this.” One of her hands between you moves up to caress your bruised cheek. “Does it still hurt?”

She prods at it, making you flinch back. “Ow, only when you poke at it.”

“Sorry,” she apologizes, pulling her hand away from your cheek. Her bashful face makes you chuckle. You pull yourself together to ask her a question. “Okay, serious question,” you start, and it’s too cute how Wanda pays close attention to what you say next. You’d think she’d know better by now. “Does it make me look badass?”

“Y/N,” she more or less groans your name in annoyance as she gently shoves you. You’re a little off balance but you quickly grasp her elbows to pull back into her space. “I’m serious. ‘Cause if I look stupid, I’m pretty sure I could will my cells to work overtime to heal it faster or something.”

She laughs at you, muttering, “You are an idiot,” and pecking your lips between each word. You hear giggling, only this laughter isn’t coming from the beautiful woman in front of you. No, this giggling you know too well comes from a certain little critter who you now see has potential to go into her father’s line of work with how quiet she can creep up on someone.

Wanda actually shoves you off this time, going to stand behind you to put a physical barrier between her and the intruding child. You clear your throat, smiling at Lila. “Hey, Lila. Did you need something?”

“Why were you kissing Wanda? Is she your girlfriend? Are you going to have a baby now?” She shoots one question after question rapidly as if she didn’t ask them all at once she would forget them. The first two are valid questions but the last throws you off so far you don’t know where you are. It throws Wanda too, so much so she’s basically choking behind you.

“Woah, okay. Umm, I was kissing Wanda because I think she is very pretty and nice and that’s just a way you can show someone that you think that about them, with their permission of course,” you rush in to add about consent. Your niece and nephews will grow up learning to be a decent human being. You continue on to her other questions. “But no, Wanda is not my girlfriend and we are not having a baby?”

Your last answer comes out more as a question, mostly due to your confusion as to where she got that idea. Wanda comes out from her hiding space to stand by you. From your peripheral vision, she looks amused at seeing you struggle to answer the six year old’s questions. Looking at your niece, she seems to be as confused as you, but you learn it’s due to something else. “Why isn’t she your girlfriend? Did you ask her?”

You hesitate to answer, really not knowing where to start. Wanda is less amused and more interested now, crossing her arms over her chest, creating a barrier between her heart and your next words that she thinks will inevitably hurt to hear. Lila doesn’t give you the chance, however, continuing to her next question that makes you scoff. “Does she think you’re ugly?”

“I’d hope not.” You turn to look at Wanda, who holds a hand over her mouth trying to cover her giggles.

“Oh, maybe she doesn’t think you’re funny, like Aunt Nat says. Maybe she doesn’t get your jokes.” Lila tries to help, but little to her knowledge, it just makes you want to dig your own grave, especially when you can see Wanda is nearly losing it trying to hold in her laughter.

“Yep, you know you might be right. That must be it,” you agree to appease her. She grins at you, proud of herself for finding an answer to her question, which reminds you, “Why did you think we were having a baby?”

“Because that’s how babies are made,” she says, without a doubt in her mind, which reasonably has you questioning, “Who told you that, critter? Because they definitely lied.”

“Mommy said so,” she says almost defiantly as if what her mom says must be the truth and who were you to make her start questioning her mother now at six years old. You are also not ready to have that conversation, the conversation between you and your cousin where she yells at you for taking over the birds and bees speech that she probably had meticulously planned for a specific time in her children’s lives.

“Aaaand, your mom’s right. Yep. Wanda is basically pregnant now,” you say without thinking. Lila’s eyes go full moon round in excitement as squeals in glee. She practically runs out of the laundry room probably to tell god knows who about the news. Wanda gasps in disbelief beside you, smacking your arm. “Why did you say that?”

“Well, what did you want me to do? Be honest with the child?” you say as if honesty would be the worst thing to bring into that conversation.

“Yes, exactly that,” Wanda says plainly.

“Okay, well unless you want to deal with Nat on your ass about us unnecessarily stressing my pregnant cousin out with talks about baby making with her six year old, for the next however long Lila remembers, you are pregnant with my child.”

Wanda hangs her head in defeat after you put that image of an angry Nat in her head. There are worse things than being fake pregnant with your crush’s baby. She sighs, “You’re paying child support for this kid.”

You smile at her quip, retaliating with, “Not without a paternity test!” She shoves you as you both exit the laundry room and you chant, “Maury! Maury!”

“We are not naming the baby Maury,” she says and runs into you when you stop abruptly to turn around and question her, “Wanda, do you not know who Maury is?”

When she shakes her head no in confusion, you grab her hand in excitement, “Oh, my god, let me teach you a little bit about American culture,” and drag her with you to watch some episodes of the show.

You only get to watch one with her, leaving her with your cousin to watch more as you go back into the kitchen to finish moping as your cousin so kindly (not so kindly) reminded you to do. Those baby hormones really were kicking in.

You return to see Pietro and Wanda eating up the show. “I knew it! I knew he would be the father,” Pietro yells excitedly from where he is on the floor looking back at his sister. “Did I not guess right?” She nods and he turns back to the television to watch the guy run off the stage as the cameraman chases after him.

Laura can’t stop yawning so you suggest she go take a nap. You help her up to her room and tell her to rest up, that you had everything under control. She teases as you shut the door, “Just don’t go around impregnating more women while I’m asleep.”

When you go back downstairs, Sam, Nat, and Clint are making their way through the front door with everything they bought. Sam and Clint set the box with the crib assembly in the middle of the living room. Nat carries some bags and says there are more bags in the car. You head outside throwing an “amateur” towards Nat who rolls her eyes knowing you are referring to your silly one trip from the car to the house rule.

The rest of the evening goes to arranging the hospital bag and getting all the baby things in order. Nat and Wanda assemble the crib, Nat insisting she do it after Pietro rushes to assemble it with a “tada!” only for it to fall apart when Nat throws a pillow onto it. Wanda is just excited to do it and Nat trusts her to follow instructions unlike her brother.

Everyone just watches, but Lila who tries to help handing the women whatever they need. As most excited six year olds do, she talks everyone’s ears off about the things she is going to do when her baby brother comes. “Oh! And he can have playdates with Y/N and Wanda’s baby. We can have tea parties every summer. Maybe not tea, cause tea isn’t very tasty and it’s too hot for that. Maybe we can have ice tea instead. What do you think, Wanda?”

Everyone in the room looks confused; most of the confused gazes are looking to you for an explanation and before anyone could say anything, you mouth “Don’t ask” while shaking your head. Wanda indulges Lila, though she blushes through it trying to look unfazed, “Yes, ice tea is nice. Or maybe lemonade. Can you pass me that small piece over there?”

It comes out perfectly, much to Pietro’s chagrin. Now the problem no one thought about- how to get it upstairs into the room. Sam and Clint carry it up the stairs trying to follow Nat’s instructions, attempting to turn it at the right angle to get it up the second flight of stairs. They clearly do not understand what Nat’s aim is here, Nat’s frustration growing by the second. Wanda gets a sense of deja vu but she can’t recall where she has seen this, until you laugh and as if reading her mind fill in the blank yelling, “Pivot!”

Satisfied with figuring out where the scene is from and not wanting to see Nat explode, Wanda uses her magic to take hold of the crib and brings Nat’s vision to life as she rotates the crib at the correct angle. The red mist lifts it the rest of the way upstairs.

“Thank you, Wanda. It seems you’re the only competent person here,” Nat huffs. She turns to the two men on the stairs, “Well, don’t just stand there, expecting Maximoff to do everything. The crib goes in the room with Laura.”

She storms up the steps shepherding Clint and Sam the rest of the way. You hear the laundry machine beeping, so you go give that your attention with Wanda on your tail. After her clothes begin to spin in the dryer, you stop her from getting any further than the kitchen remembering to give her your beautiful creation.

“Wait, Wanda, before I forget. I have something for you.” You pull the photo strip turned bookmark out of your pocket and hand it to her. She takes her time looking over the pictures on the strip from the time at the arcade, especially the third in which you are kissing her cheek. You gesture for her to look at the back and she rolls her eyes upon reading your message. Wanda appreciates the gesture anyways.

“You made me this?” Wanda asks, surprised.

You nod, “Made or more so laminated it for you. Or rather for future me who will be happy to know she saved another book from you dog earring the ends of its pages.”

You chuckle when she pushes you in jest. “Hey! That is a lot of judgement coming from someone who does not read.”

“I don’t have to be an avid book reader to know book etiquette,” you declared.

“Book etiquette?” She raises an eyebrow up in question.

“Yes, there are rules to how you treat books, same as there are rules to everything,” you answered. “Like returning a borrowed book in the same condition.”

“And one of the rules happens to be not to bend the corner of the pages?” she asks, disbelieving.

“Hey, I’m just trying to do you a favor here. Wouldn’t want you to get bullied in book club or whatever. But if you are just going to disregard the rule and not use the bookmark,” you reply, reaching for the bookmark, “I can just take it back.”

“No,” she objects immediately, pressing the photostrip against her chest. She pouts, “You already gave it to me. You can’t take it back.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you assured her, laughing at her childish antics. Wanda looks at it once more, smiling, and then gives you a kiss on the cheek. With rosy cheeks adorning her face, she thanks you. “I love it, really.”

Red really is the color for her, you think. That is until you find green giving red a run for its money the next evening.

Sam drove you, Wanda, and Pietro to one of the two bars in town in Nat’s car. It took about half an hour of begging from Sam’s part for Nat to give up her keys, but not without threatening his life if he were to even scratch her car. You couldn’t blame her, it’s a pretty nice car.

You and the three Avengers walk into the bar. It sounds like the start to a joke and it almost feels like it could be with the way the night starts. It’s a Friday night so there is a crowd but it’s not too bad. You’re still standing around the front entrance and you wonder why no one has made the move to go further into the establishment. Turning to the other three, you notice their eyes sweeping the place. You quickly realize what they are doing.

“Would you all relax? We are here to have fun. No need to act like you’re on a mission,” you remind them. Sam scoffs, “Uh, speak for yourself. This man is on the hunt for some sugar.” The rest of you three roll your eyes at him as he keeps scouting the area. His eyes befall on the pretty bartender. “And spotted. First round is on me.”

Sam walks up to the bar with swagger to his step. The three of you look for a place to sit. Pietro notices a booth open up and using a little enhanced speed, swoops into the booth, calling you and Wanda over. You talk amongst yourselves while Sam chats up the bartender. He comes over with the drinks smiling to himself. Wanda teases him, “Look at you all smiley. Did you get her phone number?”

“I’m still working on it, but I know it’s working,” he says confidently. “So hurry up and finish your drinks so I can go up and talk some more.”

He rushes you and chugs his drink in one go. You hate to be his buzzkill but someone has to remind him, “I hope you enjoyed that drink, Sam ‘cause that was your one and only for tonight. Or did you forget you drove us here?”

His face scrunches up and groans, “Noooo. Can’t Pietro drive? His metabolism works fast. It’s nearly impossible to get him drunk.”

“Did you forget what car we brought? The moves Nat pulled on me hurt like a bitch, and that was just her teaching me self defense. I can’t imagine what she would do if she finds out we let Speed Racer drive back.” You quickly turn to said twin, “No offense, Pietro.”

“You are all just a bunch of babies,” he responds, sipping from his drink.

“Ugh, fine,” Sam concedes. “Maybe, I can work with this. I’ll be back. Same thing for everyone?”

After getting an affirmative, Sam is back at it. The three of you watch him flirt with the woman behind the bar. Sam points your group out to her and she smiles at you three while your group acknowledges her with awkward waves.

A car alarm pulls everyone’s attention away; it’s Nat’s car. The three of you see Sam make a show of looking for the keys in his pockets when it’s clear to the group that he’s been holding them the entire time. That smooth bastard. The woman looks impressed.

Soon she serves up your drinks, Sam bringing them to the table, with a cocky smirk on his face. You, Pietro, and Wanda shake your heads at him his whole way back. “We see what you did there,” Wanda says. “That was very sneaky.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Sam denies. He takes a sip of his water as the rest of you grab your second drink. Pietro asks, “Very sad, using someone else’s things to boast. Tsk tsk tsk.”

“Keep it down. She doesn’t have to know that. Anyway, that car is a guarantee she’ll be looking this way,” Sam assures and he isn’t wrong. Wanda finds the bartender looking back at your group but much to her discontentment, she is zeroing in not on Sam but you. You don’t notice this happening.

You are too focused telling some funny story Wanda isn’t really listening to, as she finishes her drink in one go. Pietro catches this from the corner of his eye, frowning at what has his sister looking upset. Ever so observant, he watches Wanda look at the bartender who seems to be staring at you and then shuffle closer to your side.

His frown disappears, no longer worried but more so amused. He has always found it funny when his sister gets jealous. He’s seen it several times to know the signs- the furrow of her brow, the biting of her lip, and had it been a few years ago, there would be a dramatic exit. A dramatic exit would be overkill here so he guesses she’s substituted it for possessiveness.

You welcome Wanda’s warmth as she sits closer to you. Sam and Pietro make their comments and jokes about the story you just finished telling. You sip on your drink, nearly choking when Wanda’s hand makes a surprise appearance on your thigh a little too high to be innocent. You try to ignore it and listen to Sam as he starts a story, but it gets a little difficult when she begins to move it.

Sam asks you a question and as focused as you are when trying to answer, Wanda’s wandering hand makes you stutter a few times in your response. You chug the rest of your drink and Wanda takes that as a sign to get the next round of drinks.

“I’ve got the drinks this time,” she declares, pressing a kiss on your cheek before getting up and heading over to the bar. The little break you have away from her feels a bit of a relief. You were getting worked up under her touch and in public no less. You don’t know what’s got Wanda in this kind of mood suddenly, not that you would usually mind it unless it’s the alcohol.

That’s the only real outlier here. If it is the alcohol, you’ll have to slow her roll down if only two drinks have her so handsy. You have to come up with a plan soon if that’s the case, because Wanda comes back, bartender behind her carrying a tray with shots.

Wanda takes her seat next to you as Sam’s point of interest for the night sets the shots in the middle of the table. Your eyes widen, counting the number of shots that end up on the table.

“Damn, how much do they pay you?” you ask incredulously, knowing how pricey a single shot can be.

“And are they hiring?” the bartender jokes. Everyone but Wanda laughs. “Are we celebrating something tonight or just having a night out?” She asks the table but ends the question looking at you for the answer.

“A little bit of both. They’re going home soon, so,” you explain. You have all her attention now, her body turning to face you. “Oh, so you’re from here. I haven’t seen you around?”

Wanda slowly grows irritated, feeling the woman talking is overstaying her welcome at your table. She reaches for a shot, throwing it back, trying not to make a face as the liquid burns her throat.

You frown at Wanda’s actions. Pietro snorts and Wanda throws him a glare. The bartender is still waiting for your response so you answer, “I don’t actually live here. I stay with my cousin during my breaks from school.”

“What school do you go to?”

Wanda clears her throat, annoyed, “Don’t you have to go back to the bar? We wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.”

Sam speaks up, “There are two other people back there. I’m sure they’ve got Bethany covered.” So that’s the name of the woman unknowingly grinding Wanda’s gears. Wanda is disappointed to see Sam is correct.

She drinks another shot and the moment Pietro has been waiting for arrives when she gets up suddenly claiming she has to go to the restroom. Bethany tries to help and point them out to her, but Wanda quickly cuts in with, “Thank you, Bethany, but I think I can find my way to the restroom just fine.” And then she stomps off.

Finding her behavior odd, you decide it best to go follow her and make sure she’s okay. After answering Bethany’s last question, you excuse yourself from the table and head in the direction Wanda left. The restrooms are easy to find, a glaringly obvious sign pointing to them.

Wanda splashes water on her face at the sink, trying to cool herself down. She can’t help the thoughts running through her head, thinking that Bethany was probably sitting in Wanda’s place by your side, grabbing your arm as she laughs at something you say. She knows these thoughts stem from jealousy and there is no need to tell her that she doesn’t have the right to be jealous when you agreed to be friends.

If Wanda wasn’t irked enough, there are no paper towels to dry her face with. Now she’ll return to the table with a wet shirt. “Stupid bar can’t refill the dispenser,” she mutters, pushing the door open with the side of her body, her hands preoccupied lifting the bottom of her shirt enough to pat her face dry with it.

She bumps into somebody outside the restroom doors. She lifts her face from her hands to apologize only to be met by the person who has got her acting this moody and you aren’t looking at her face. Your eyes are busy appreciating Wanda’s exposed tummy. Wanda flushes as she drops her shirt, making you redirect your eyes. Embarrassed at being caught, you clear your throat. “Sorry,” you apologize. “I actually came to check on you.”

“Why? I was only gone for 2 minutes,” she asked, though she was happy to note that you were here waiting for her outside the restroom instead of entertaining the bartender sitting at your group’s table.

“You left kind of abruptly. I just wanted to make sure you were okay and not like throwing up,” you reason. You pull Wanda away from standing in front of the door to the restroom when someone tries to get through.

Wanda chuckles, continuing on with your conversation. “Do you think I am a lightweight or what?”

“Well I hope not. You did just buy a bunch of shots and it would be a damn shame to let them go to waste,” you remind her. She smirks at you. “You have some catching up to do.”

“Lead the way.” You step aside motioning for her to do just so. Wanda shakes her head, but smiles nevertheless, taking your hand and tugging you behind her. Wanda is happy not to see Bethany at your table but back behind the bar when you both take your previous seats.

“There they are!” Pietro shouts excitedly, waving his hand in the air before smacking it back down on the table rather clumsily with an “Ah”. Tipsy Pietro was rather adorable. How did he get like this anyway? Looking back at the table, you find your answer.

“Holy shit, dude! Did you drink all of these yourself?” You’re worried he’d have to get his stomach pumped. He reads the expression on your face and reassures you. “It’s the only way I can get, umm, Wanda?” He turns to ask his sister something you don’t understand, asking in Sokovian. She answers, “Tipsy.”

“Yes! Tipsy. But I left you uh,” he counts the remaining shot cups that still have liquor in them, “four. Perfect. Two for each of you. Now hurry, I want to play billbards, bill-billboards. Pool,” he finally decides. He pushes two shots towards you and the other two towards Wanda.

“Oh, no. Y/N has to catch up.” Wanda pushes one of her drinks to yours, lining them all up neatly. You shake your head at a smirking Wanda. You sigh, “You’re really going to do this to me, huh?”

“Yup,” she affirmed. Then Sam got the three of them to chant your name, making others in the bar look your group’s way. Not wanting people staring, you hush them, “Okay, okay. Geez. I can see why Clint hates that.” Then you drink all three, one right after another. You do make a face. “Oof.”

Wanda drinks hers and then the four of you wait by the pool tables for one to open up. You spend the next hour laughing with Sam and Wanda at a clumsy Pietro. You are just as bad as a tipsy Pietro when playing pool but tipsy Wanda doesn’t care, insisting you teach her how to properly line up her shot. Tipsy you isn’t remotely embarrassed when Wanda completely misses hitting the ball with your guidance because your body is busy feeling something other than shame having Wanda pressed against you as she is.

Sober Sam is getting bored. Bethany is busy behind the bar doing her job, more patrons filling up the joint. A few minutes later, Pietro is practically sober; his coordination comes back and he doesn’t find playing pool as fun anymore. Also, he’s growing tired of watching his sister basically grind her ass on you every time it’s her turn.

Pietro ends the game five minutes later. “I’m tired. Let’s let some other people play.” He doesn’t give you a chance to reject the idea, handing his pool stick over to someone else saying his group can have the table. He and Sam head to the restroom but not before telling you two to be ready to go.

There is a pout on Wanda’s face that you find just too cute and you let her know so. “You are so adorable,” you tease, pinching her cheeks. Wanda sends you a glare that looks in no way threatening with her cheeks aflame, making you laugh. “I’ll get us some water. Wait here for Pietro and Sam.”

You head over to the bar counter. You grab Bethany’s attention and ask for some water. “So why was your girlfriend upset earlier?” She asks as she goes to fill up two cups for you.

“Huh?” you ask confused. She repeats herself leaning over the bar in order for you to hear her more clearly. “Your girlfriend,” she nods in Wanda’s direction. You turn to see Wanda watching you two closely. “She looked pissed off earlier.”

Bethany hands over the two cups of water. You didn’t need to but you clarify anyway, albeit a little awkwardly. “Oh, um, she’s not my girlfriend.”

“Does she know that?” The bartender smirks at you. You’re confused and tell her so. She rolls her eyes at you. There is no way you could be so oblivious. She does find it cute that you were so focused on your “not girlfriend” that you didn’t see the way she was interested in you. She takes pity on you and clarifies, “She was totally acting like a jealous girlfriend earlier.”

“No, she wasn’t,” you deny, the idea sounding totally absurd to you. But with the way Bethany sounded so sure, you can’t help but begin to question the possibility. “How do you know?”

“I see these things all the time. Reading body language becomes a skill when you work at a bar. Trust me.”

Bethany sees you still doubting her so she proposes something. “Here. I’ll prove it. Do you mind if I touch you?”

You look at her confused but give her permission anyway. She reaches over and runs her finger up and down your forearm. You watch her move and feel more so lost when she throws her head back in laughter. “Okay, what are you doing?”

“If she is jealous, like I say she is, she will do one of two things. She will either come up here and act all possessive or she’ll storm off like she did earlier to the restroom.”

“I don’t know,” you say, unsurely, already pulling your arm away. You are not one to want to play emotional games. Before you have a chance to tell Bethany that, she says, “I should have put some money on it.”

You feel an arm slide around your waist. Wanda comes up beside you and pulls you into her. You are a little startled to be honest, especially when she kisses your underjaw making sure to give Bethany a good view. Wanda catches Bethany giving you a cocky smirk and it irks her.

“Piet and Sam are waiting for us,” she reminds you. You don’t say anything, your mind still trying to process that Bethany is right and Wanda might just be jealous. Bethany sees the realization glaze over your eyes and rolls with it, pushing Wanda’s buttons. “Oh, you’re leaving already? Well if you ever want more conversations like these,” she writes on a piece of paper behind the bar and hands it over to you folded, “here.”

Wanda is nearly grinding her teeth at this point. The audacity of that woman to give you her number while Wanda is with you is amazing. Though Wanda knows she’s not with you- with you, clearly the woman would think Wanda was something to you given the way she is wrapped around you. And if that wasn’t enough to piss her off, the way you say “Um, okay?” before pocketing the piece of paper is.

“You know what, we’ll just wait for you in the car,” Wanda huffs, pulling away from you and storming off to Pietro and Sam. You watch her go, ready to follow but Bethany calls your attention once more. “And there is number two. What are you standing here for? Go. She’ll only be more upset the longer you take.”

“Thanks?” You leave it at that, not knowing what else to say and make your way to the exit. Bethany watches you leave with a shake of her head, mumbling to herself, “She’s gonna eat her alive.”

You reach in your pocket to read the note the bartender gave you, opening the door with your back. Wanda, who is leaning against the hood of the car, watches in jealousy as you laugh at the contents of the note.

Sam asks, “What are you smiling about?”

Wanda answers for you, tone dripping in discontent, “Getting the number you couldn’t get.”

“What?! Let me see!” Sam rips the paper from your hand. Wanda rolls her eyes in annoyance and gets in the backseat, slamming the door closed. Her brother shakes his head in amusement, but follows sitting in the passenger seat instead.

“Come on, let’s go,” you hurry Sam along. You go around the car to open the door opposite the one Wanda slammed and take a seat. Wanda is already not looking at you, instead looking out the window, which you find pointless because there is nothing to look at seeing as there is another car parked right next to her. She’s just getting the view of their window.

“Wanda,” you say, trying to get her to look at you. “Wanda.” She still ignores you, so you press, “Are you really not going to talk to me?”

“I’m not in the mood. Why don’t you talk to Bethany? Seemed like you liked talking to her. Now you can call her,” Wanda responds, voicing Bethany’s name in an obnoxious way. You try not to snicker but Pietro doesn’t. Wanda kicks the back of his seat, getting in trouble with Sam as he enters the car to see just that.

“Hey, knock it off! I don’t need Nat busting my ass for something I didn’t do,” he warns and points at Wanda, who huffs but leans back, crossing her arms in irritation. He continues, “Also, if you want me to laugh at your jokes, make them make sense.”

He throws the paper to your lap. You read it once more and laugh to yourself. Sam is about to start the car but you stop him. “Wait! Before we go, Sam, can you do me a favor real quick,” you say as you pull out a five dollar bill. “Can you go give this to Bethany?”

“So is this like an inside joke or something?” Sam takes the money anyway and heads back to the bar. Pietro asks, “Can I see the paper?”

“Why? You want to have a shot with her too? Clearly she was interested in Y/N, Pietro,” Wanda mumbles. You hand over the paper to her brother while rolling your eyes at her behavior, trying not to smile.

Pietro reads it and laughs louder than before. Wanda takes off her seatbelt and leans forward to snatch the paper from Pietro’s hands. “Okay, what is so funny? ‘Five bucks she says my name in a mean voice’.” Wanda’s voice trails off in the end out of embarrassment realizing that the note was about her.

“Hell yeah! I told you I would and I did. I still have the moves.” Sam barges into the car excitedly. “Look what I got!” He waves around a piece of paper in front of Pietro’s face.

“Her number? Nice,” Pietro says, pretty impressed.

“Yep. She said ‘Here, for if you’re ever back in town,’” Sam tries mimicking Bethany’s voice. Turning to you, he adds, “Oh and she also said to tell you she told you so, whatever that means.”

“Wanda knows what it means,” Pietro jokes, making you chuckle and Wanda punch him in the arm.

“Alright, alright. Chill out and put your seatbelt on,” Sam tells Wanda. He turns on the car and begins the drive home. “It’s a good thing we’re leaving when we are. Another drink in you and we’d have to pull you out of a bar fight.”

Wanda does as she’s told without another word. In fact she stays silent for the whole ride back, not because she was annoyed like earlier. To say she’s embarrassed is an understatement. It’s one thing for her brother to tease her, throwing remarks he finds oh so humorous her way. She’s used to that from her twin. It’s another thing for you to match his energy, laughing at his jokes and having the same knowing smirk on your face.

Of course Pietro would know when she’s jealous; they’re twins. Pietro acts the same exact way when he’s jealous. Wanda just wasn’t ready for someone else to pick up on it, especially not the person for why she felt the way she did.

It is humiliating and that’s why she vows to deny, deny, deny if anyone brings it up, which of course you do because life hates Wanda and won’t let her have this one thing.

You bring it up after you get home. Wanda tries to rush out the car but you hold her arm, signaling for her to stay in the car. You tell Sam and Pietro to go ahead inside without you, that you need to talk to Wanda in private.

Sam jokingly “oohs” and rolls down the windows a bit before turning off the car. “This seems like a long talk. I wouldn’t want you ladies to suffocate under all the tension,” he quips.

Wanda looks at her brother for help and he almost stays seeing the dread on her face, but then he thinks about how this could be new ammunition for teasing her later and makes his decision to go. “Sorry, Wands, but she said ‘in private’.”

“Since when do you respect privacy?” she challenged, ticked that her own blood would leave her to die of mortification for his own amusement.

“It’s never too late to try new things,” he reasons. He follows Sam to the house, laughing because Wanda shouts out of the car window, “Try not being a traitor next time!”

Wanda’s attention finally turns to you when she hears you giggling. Wanda sits as far away from you as she can, her back practically against the car door. Your laughter dies down, but you still sport a wide smile on your face, irritating her to no end. She crosses her arms and tries to keep her composure.

“What did you want to say?” She feigns innocence, hoping the conversation will take a different route than the one she feels it’s going. However, much like life you won’t let her have this.

“You know, I guessed you could be the jealous type given you telling your brother to stop flirting with me and the other way around, but damn, that was something else,” you tease, finding satisfaction when Wanda’s cheeks burn red.

You let her splutter for a minute, but then take pity on her when you see she can’t find the words to defend herself. You scoot close enough to her that your knees are pressing against hers. “It’s okay, really. Usually, I would find jealousy unattractive but there is something about green on you that I like. It really brings out your eyes.”

Your hands move forward to push some of her hair away from her face as if to see her eyes clearer. Wanda finally finds her voice, scoffing, “I was not jealous,” but she allows you to keep your hands on her face.

“No, of course not,” you reply sarcastically, smirk taking permanent residence on your face. You pinch her cheek to annoy her.

“Only insecure people get jealous,” Wanda huffs and pushes your hands away.

“Everyone has their insecurities, Maximoff.”

“What do you have to be insecure about?” she asks like you would be the last person to have any insecurities.

You lean your side onto the seat. “Plenty of things. Like, no one ever taking me seriously. I hide a lot behind jokes. Sometimes, I don’t even know if I’m being serious or not and that makes it really hard to communicate with people.”

You look away from Wanda who begins to uncross her arms, the earlier tension on her body from self preservation dissipating with your confession. Instead, you focus on your hands, fingers tracing the stitched lines on the leather seats.

You continue with a sigh, “Not to keep reliving the past, but it seems like it’s all I ever really do, I think maybe had I worked a little more on that, maybe Skye and I wouldn’t have ended like we did. Maybe had I shown I could be, I don’t know, more serious, someone you could not only have laugh with but someone you could confide in, have honest talks with, be a shoulder to cry on, then maybe she wouldn’t have seen me as a distraction and maybe we, I don’t know. I’m just rambling now.”

It gets quiet in the car. Wanda watches your hands continue to trace the lines on the seats. You look up at her when she clears her throat, ready to speak. “Vision broke up with me with the excuse that heroes are meant to be alone and I try but ever since he said that I can’t help but think he has a point.”

“Why do you think so?” you ask. Much like you finding something else to focus on, Wanda begins fidgeting with the rings on her fingers before replying, “It’s just that after we broke up, everyone left me alone. They were trying to give me my space, I guess but all it did was make me feel lonely.”

You reach out to stop her fidgeting with her rings which only half works. When you hold her hand, her other one comes to start playing with your fingers. “As embarrassing as it was to have you see me crying, I’m glad you stayed with me that first day,” Wanda whispers, almost like it’s a secret.

You smile and joke, “You were crying? I would have never known if you didn’t just tell me.” You succeed in making her laugh, as she tells you to shut up, but you continue teasing her. “Now the puffy eyes and runny nose make total sense.”

“Oh, god! Don’t remind me,” she pulls her hands away from yours to cover her face. She mumbles behind her palms, “I probably looked so gross.”

You chuckle at how wrong she is, remembering that day. You pull her hands away from her face and respond, “Quite the opposite. I was wondering how someone could look so pretty crying.”

Wanda narrows her eyes at you and accuses, “Liar.”

“Honest. Then I thought how inappor- inaporpiet,” you struggle to say inappropriate so you rephrase, “how it was wrong to think that while you were crying. Sorry, the alcohol is still in my system.”

You continue through Wanda’s giggling. “And it’s your fault I’m not more sober right now!”

“What? How is this my fault?” she questions, still smiling.

“We didn’t get to drink the waters Bethany so nicely served us because you got jealous and stormed out,” you recount, watching the smile drop from Wanda’s face and a frown replace it.

“I was not jealous!” Wanda still denies, much to your amusement. She tries to pull away her hands but you keep a heavy grip on them.

“Incredible. We just had a whole ass conversation about insecurities and you still can’t admit you were jealous,” you laugh when she denies it again with a pout on her face that you attempt to kiss away, pulling her into you.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you mumble with a smile against her lips. She lets out an irritated sigh and leans back into you to finally do something about wiping that knowing smile off of your face.

Wanda’s lips on yours, you both forget what either of you were trying to prove as you lose yourself to the feeling of having her pressed against you. You are both a mess, still slightly inebriated, but not so much that you don’t know what you are doing. You are well aware that you are in Nat’s car and she would kill you if she were to find out what you were doing in the backseat.

You take the chance anyway thinking it would be worth it. Remnants of alcohol in your system and watching Wanda take her shirt off will do that. Hands are everywhere, stripping off clothes, so you don’t know who does it but the car horn sounds and makes you both stop in panic.

“Shit,” you both whisper, out of breath. You turn to look at what could have caused the noise and see your shoe on the driver seat. One of you had thrown the shoe at the wheel. You both look towards the house. The lights were still off. You don’t think you woke anyone. At least, you hope you didn’t.

“Maybe no one heard?” You tell Wanda who looks at you with a ‘you can’t be serious’ look. There are five members of the most renowned team of heroes on the planet in that house. One, if not all, heard the horn.

Your phone chimes. Wanda gives you an ‘I told you so’ look as she pulls out your phone from your pants that are halfway down your thighs. Her heart stops in her chest as she sees the text is from Natasha. She shows you and you cover your face, not wanting to read whatever death threat is on there.

“Read it for me. Maybe coming from you, I might not have a panic attack,” you beg. She opens the text and reads aloud, “ ‘I expect the car to smell of nothing but lemon scented disinfectant wipes tomorrow’ followed by two exclamation points and the red angry face emoji.”

You let out a sigh and remove your hands. “That doesn’t sound too bad. I don’t think she’s that mad.”

“Wait,” Wanda holds up a finger, reading off of your phone, “she’s typing.”

Your phone chimes incessantly. Wanda begins reading off, “Okay, girl with hand up emoji, ladder emoji, window emoji, person in bed emoji, oh, um.” Wanda’s eyes widen at what she now realizes is Nat threatening you through emoticons. “I am going to stop reading now so you can sleep tonight.”

You groan but take the phone to read through the little story Nat created. “Although I am fearing for my life, I have to give it to her. This is very creative and it sends shivers down my spine.”

You toss your phone onto the passenger seat. “If this is my last night, let’s end it right,” you say before dramatically sweeping Wanda in your arms and moving her to lie down as best as one can in the back seats of Nat’s car. She giggles as you nearly stumble to the floor due to your pants.

“Stupid jeans,” you mutter, swiftly taking them off and moving on top of Wanda who is still giggling. You quickly shut her up.

You wake up in the back seat of Nat’s car with Wanda in your arms. You feel three things at once: Wanda’s breath tickling your neck, the warmth of sunlight seeping through the car windows, and the beginnings of a headache. There is a loud screech that does nothing to help soothe the mild hangover. It wakes Wanda up as well. She voices her annoyance out loud, her morning voice husky.

“Ugh, what is that? Y/N, make it stop,” she demands, burrowing further into you as if that will somehow make it stop. Coincidentally enough it does stop, but before you can relax, you hear voices arise.

Wanda’s brows furrow and she tries to move away from you to see who could be coming to visit, but with the arm you have around her, you yank her back down into you.

“What are you doing?” you whisper yell.

She looks at you in confusion. “I’m seeing who it is.”

“Maybe that can wait once we’re fully clothed,” you suggest, pointing out the fact that all either of you have on are underwear and your shirts from last night.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, just stay still and hope they don’t peek in the car,” you command. The two of you stay quiet as the voices pass by. From the sounds of it, they come from two women.

“Oh, calm down! That landing was not that bad. It was way better than last time!” one of the women exclaims. Her voice sounds way too familiar, but you are too busy holding your breath in order to not get caught to actually try to place it.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better, Daisy. Wait, who let you fly it before?” the second woman asks, the end of her sentence sounding far away hinting at them approaching the front door away from the car you and Wanda currently hide in.

You hear knocking and then the front door opening. You think you hear Nat’s voice say something that sounds like “oh, fuck” but you aren’t too sure. You and Wanda only get up when you hear the front door close.

You both hastily redress into yesterday’s clothes. Peeking out the window, Wanda notices a jet outside that definitely was not there last night and seeing as there are no other cars around, she can only assume it belongs to the two women which makes sense after hearing that one of them flew it.

She sadly puts two and two together. These are the agents that would pick them up to take them back to the compound. You also pieced it together, “They’re here early.”

Wanda notices you sound a little peeved at that but you collect yourself. “Come on. Let’s go see what that’s about.” You give her a quick kiss before you exit the vehicle, holding the door open for her to step out.

Wanda has half a mind to pull you back into the car, wrap back up in you, and never let you go, although she knows in the end it’s not you that’s going but her that has to leave. She’s just sad that her ride is here so soon and that she had to wake up to it after a night like last night.

Last night was what felt like a wake up call for her. Lying in your arms, she began to wonder what she was even doing with you anymore. You make her feel like no one else has. She might have denied it all night, but she can be honest with herself. She knows she was jealous. She has never been jealous about anyone before and maybe because she knows she has no claim to you, in other words any reason to be jealous, she realized she wants to have a reason. She wants the right to be jealous.

You stand there patiently waiting for her to step out of the car. Once she’s out, you fix her hair for her. “There. Maybe not Sister Wanda but I didn’t leave any marks for you to be DJ Wanda either,” you joke, trying to pull a smile from Wanda.

You do, but you find it odd that she doesn’t whack you or anything for teasing. “Wow, no violence after making a joke like that. Are you feeling okay? Did the alcohol not hit you until right now? Are you somehow drunk?”

“No,” she rolls her eyes at you. “I thought we had a rule about not hitting you.”

“Oh, so now you remember the rules. It only took you til your last day here to remember them,” you chuckle, closing the door behind her. You begin walking toward the house but when you reach the porch you feel Wanda pull you back. You look at her with questioning eyes.

Wanda decides to finally voice all her thoughts and feelings that she has been keeping to herself once and for all. “About those rules-“

“Robin Hood?”

Wanda is cut off by that familiar voice you couldn’t place before but you couldn’t mistake it now especially given that nickname. There was only one person to ever call you that. You didn’t have to look to know who it was but you and Wanda both turn to see the last person you thought you would ever catch in Westview County standing on your cousin’s porch.

“Skye?”

______________________________________________________

Dun, dun, duUuUn

@madamevirgo @marvels-writings @gayarchnemissis @myperfectlovestory @purplemeetsblue @magicallymaximoff @b0mbdotc0m @helloalycia @ironscarletwidowsoilder @cantcontroltheirfear @trikruismybitch @your-my-mission @imagine-reblog @fayhar @idek-5 @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo @bemyvitamin @musicinourlips @paumxmff @wandamaximoffsrings @yeetus-thyself @lostandsearching @when-wolves-howl @euphoriaszn2 @gingerbreadcookieforlife @myfavoriteficss @cyberbonesworld

#wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you

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oneoftheprettynerds · 3 years

Text

Fixed: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 4 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series.

Chapter 3: Love So Soft

Main Masterlist

A/N: It’s shorter than my usual updates but I’m busy so sorry for the delay. My final exam dates have come and all I can do is pray right now lol. Please pray for me if you can, this sis is out here writing fanfics for yall instead of studying so, haha. ANyways, enjoy babies! Shit happens in this chapter.

Warning: Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, a mild mental breakdown, Cheap Tricks.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can’t ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can’t get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Word count: 5K

Chapter 4: Fixed

You didn’t sleep that night. Or the next few. Your hands shook every time you got a flashback and even though you were numb to emotions that entire day, tears threatened to spill whenever your mind took to you to that overpriced kitchen again.

Now that he had gone to a dangerous and unnerved assaulter from a Dad trying to take care of his daughter, your mind wouldn’t put anything past him. You knew that in the back of your mind that he was a mobster and your ‘friendship’ was alarming to say the least, but now there was no denying his resources and power and the very obvious threat to your life lingering in the air.

At least before you had the luxury to be oblivious and ignorant, not anymore though. Steve felt even more unhinged and liberal now, even messaging you daily, greeting texts that you obviously ignored. He knew you both were aware that you never handed him your number and he felt no need to hide his pursuit.

You read most of the messages, not bothering with a single reply though. You tried to block him but somehow your phone would still receive messages from his number, even though his contact would always peek back at you from the otherwise empty blacklist.

As if his torment wasn’t ample, another message thread from a different number would forward you alarming images, photos of Grace in her daycare, on a class trip to the park and even her playing in your backyard. You had no doubt that this was another game of his to show you his resources.

You skipped daycare for a few days, your mental health worse than it was after the carnival attack, because now you had a personal tormentor and you cursed yourself for falling into this mess. At times, you believed it wasn’t your fault really, you just helped a kid and this situation spiraled itself but what would pointing fingers now get you? The harsh truth was you were in a calamitous situation now and every step from now on had to be thought out.

So, you let Grace attend her daycare and acted if nothing was amiss or altered, after the few initial breakdown days of course, kept going to your job and earning the bread. You considered your options, you really wanted to go to the cops or a higher fair power but those were few these days, almost non existent in your city. You also vaguely recalled meeting three of the Captains of the PD at Sarah’s birthday, all smiley and doe eyed for Steve. You knew they wouldn’t help, fucking kiss-asses.

Maybe you would have to move somewhere else, perhaps to your hometown, at least till things cooled down or better yet were forgotten? But that trail was very predictable and you didn’t want your parents in this mess.

You also came to know that Steve had inserted himself in the other spheres of your life. You were sure your location was always being sent to him, the knowledge a courtesy of the black car following you while you travelled to home at some late day’s end.

Aiden told you whereabouts were easy to track, when you inquired ambiguously. Another instance was when you went to the bank to deposit cash for your debit card, you came face to face with an enormous amount already there. Somehow, the limit on your credit card was also extended. How, you knew. The clerk told you about an email you must have gotten in regards to it, you dismissed that justification away and told them to not accept the cash. To sum the discussion, they weren’t helpful and had no policy against anonymous donors.

Aiden, your trusted coworker cum pal, sensed the shift in your aura and fidgety form very easily, pestering you with questions and you decided to turn to him, stressed and tired and ready to do something. His questioning eyebrows made you confess vaguely but you refused to tell him the extent of it. Just that his prediction came true and you needed help. Let’s just say, Aiden was a good man.

With time, Steve’s ‘affectionate’ messages became deranged, and you found it harder to act nonchalant in your daily life. You were thankful he didn’t come to visit you, possibly occupied with the rumored war between the mobs. You just prayed for a few more days of ignorance, just enough time to think and do something.

“What do you mean someone collected her?!” You had a hard time controlling your voice, you were about to burst, in tears or with anger, you didn’t know.

“The man was verified in the emergency contacts and we got a letter signed and approved by you to skip the day an hour into the first activity.”

“A man? Emergen-, wait no! What fucking approved letter?”

You had three emergency contacts, your mom in another state, Aiden, and one of the other kid’s mom you had grown close to. Aiden was with you at work all day, so did someone disguise themselves as him? And what was the deal with the letter signed by you? You surely didn’t remember writing and authorizing one.

The boy, Pietro, who had been the receptionist for as long as you could remember, shuffled through the chaotic piles of paper and presented a letter to you, and your blood froze as your eyes skimmed the font.

Your beautiful cursive stared right back at you and you knew that no one would ever be able to distinguish between this penmanship and the one in the pocketbook in your clutch. No one but you. Even though you knew you had not written it, the slightly different ‘f’ and ‘g’ told you everything.

Your signature at the bottom though, was done quite perfectly and that made you even more scared.

“I did-, I didn’t write this! What the-” Your widened eyes met Pietro’s from above the paper but all he offered you was a meek smile. Your hands shook with rage and for the first time in your life, you had the urge to slap someone really bad.

“Maybe your family had an emergency to take he-”

“No, you don’t get it!” You stopped yourself from getting frantic, willing yourself to take deep breaths and think rationally. Today of all days, things had to mess up.

He didn’t know you had no family in this city, that you had a mobster after you or the subtle threats that his hired spy sent to you.

Was going to the police an option? Aiden already told you that the cops were as good as Steve’s men. But this was about your missing kid! You’d never forgive yourself if something happened to her. And you were giving Steve way too much credit, what if he wasn’t behind this all? Come to think of it, what if the other number wasn’t his?

Relax yourself! Thinking of disturbing theories wouldn’t help anyone. You thought you should go to the cops, just in case. No mentioning of Steve, just a woman with a ‘missing child’ report.

‘Missing Child’ left an acrid taste behind and you were too close to a breakdown, but your whole journey of single-parenthood taught you to kick vulnerability aside, well most of the times.

You turned and were about to leave, but Pietro stopped you. “If you are going to the cops Ma’am, they require 8 hours of inactivity or disappearance time for kids under 5.”

Well look who just read your mind.

You huffed and kept the tears at bay, your mind thinking of what to do then? Grace was obviously taken-

“How could you let a toddler leave without informing the parents?” You knew your anger was channeling out at the wrong man but didn’t he all but hand Grace to the stranger?

You beat him answering and inquired, “What did the man look like? Do you have any footage? Anything?” The wrinkles in your forehead and stress creases on your face paired with the eyebags betrayed your age surely. You were sure you had aged more this week than an entire decade, juggling your normal life with the hovering threat.

“You shouldn’t be this worried Ma’am.”

The fucking audacity.

“Your daughter recognized him, she all but ran to him and this other little girl he came with. You should maybe ask your parent-friends around? A blonde family perhaps?”

As all the emotions drained from your face and terror took over, the young lad in front of you looked smug. You wondered as if you imagined the faintest of smirks on his face.

You crumpled the letter in your hands, seething with rage as you stepped in your car. Oh, you were mad, more wrathful than ever. You could take any hits on you, any threat but not on Grace, never on her.

You were stupid, you had already decided you wouldn’t put anything past him but unknowingly, you did put this past him. You thought this man had a shred of decency to not use your kid in this adult war, being a parent himself and all but what a surprise! You were wrong.

You drove to your home, your thoughts a mix of trepidation, anxiety and fury. You were scared of him and his reach and resources but if he put Grace in any type of danger; whether to teach you a lesson or use her as bait or both, there’d be consequences.

Lord knows you killed a man a month ago Grace was threatened.

You had one thing to do before contacting Steve about Grace but you never got to do it because unexpectedly the bastard was in your home. In your home.

The black sports car outside was a huge giveaway but your suspicions were confirmed when you opened the door with your house key. The banter and giggles from inside alarmed yet calmed you; the dread of confrontation and the assurance of Grace’s safety reigned your mind.

As the door opened painfully slow like a horror movie, the sight that met your eyes made you sick with a feeling of failure. It wasn’t gore or blood or grunge, it was Steve bouncing Grace in the air and catching her while Sarah twirled around in the living room.

This man was craftier than you thought, every action of his was calculated, each a refined step. You had been so preoccupied to avoid direct encounters with him in your little family’s life that you didn’t think he had other ways. He was always looming around with Sarah and as Grace began to trust Sarah, she consequently began to trust her blonde guardian too.

As you slammed the door behind you, Steve’s eyes snapped to yours and his smirk made you want to punch him so hard. The smugness on his face while he let Grace down without breaking eye contact told you he had no regret, no remorse. In fact, he was loving every second of this cat and mouse chase between you two.

You were a millimeter close to losing your shit, the only check being the kids in the room. But you were mad and he was going to know it.

“What the hell, Steve? Messing with my kid?” You threw your clutch onto the couch, Steve haughty by the reception of his sent message but still holding back because of the kids. He called Wanda and you didn’t really notice where she came from but you did register Steve asking to take the girls to the park for a ‘private discussion’.

As Grace passed by you, you grabbed her arm lightly, making her look at you with doe eyes resembling yours. You gave her a smile trying to ease her, but you knew she was smart enough to sense the change in the atmosphere.

Apparently, the whining Sarah wasn’t.

You looked back to Steve, your hold still on Grace and continued with a frown and raised eyebrows, “She isn’t going anywhere, not out of my sight and obviously not with you or your goons.”

Wanda had the audacity to look offended and you scoffed at her, eyes staring Steve’s down.

“Honey, I don’t think the kids should hear what I think you have to say right now.” He said nodding to Wanda to take Grace.

“You must be deranged to think I trust Grace near anyone even remotely related to you! Take your people and get out.” You held your hand up to stop Wanda and pointed towards the door with the most menacing glare you could form.

Grace looked incomprehensibly between you two, concern and confusion on her face. That might have been the first time such a tone was used in your household. The grumbling Sarah was close to throwing a tantrum, irritated by the change in the playful air or the lack of attention to her, you didn’t know. She was hanging on Wanda’s forearm, her feet slipping on your printed rug. Wanda was trying to not look hurt still by your previous statement, distracting herself by the blonde kid and you were baffled by her obliviousness to all this.

Steve, the beefy blonde Lucifer, was furious and seething. His white knuckles and ticking jaw were the most obvious giveaways, the fingers just itching to beat the shit out of someone no doubt.

Was he imagining striking you into compliance into his weird playhouse game complex? You wouldn’t be surprised given the extent of his attempt to ‘win’ you over.

The ‘get out’ tone and blatant disrespect was a bruise to his ego for sure, and by you, a middle-class woman nonetheless was a worse injury. Steve was the deadly boss to armored men in the vicinity, the kids’ father figure, according to him, and Wanda’s stern yet kind employer.

People had been killed for less and there you were, standing in all your glory, being the only person alive to reject Steve Rogers and now, the only to raise your voice at him.

You almost scoffed at his impudence to look offended, what did he expect? For you to submit to him after the stunt he pulled? His reach was scary he proved today and that any future with him in your life in any way, was a fearsome possibility to entertain but you’d be damned if you went down without a fight.

“You can’t make me leave; we both know. You don’t have the physical edge nor the mental one. I have no problem drawing out G-U-N-S in front of the kids or to throw the warnings around, although I would prefer not to.”

Your free hand itched to slap him, like how his did minutes ago. It wasn’t a mankind problem about men thinking they were entitled to everything; it was a Steve Rogers’s problem. Of course, with him consent didn’t matter. If he had a ‘housewife, kids and fences’ fixation, he’d make it come true.

“Do you even listen to what I say? Or your own words even? Please, go ahead! Traumatise my kid and also yours in your wooing process! Why are you so obsessed? Leave us alone, you freak! I just ignored few messages!” You had a hard time maintaining your cool, if there was any left. You were sure you were scaring Grace and no matter what happened next, you knew she was already traumatized by this entire ordeal already. You were so sorry, so, so, so sorry to your poor baby caught in this mess.

You knew, no, you hoped, he wouldn’t pull out the gun, his actions at the carnival a proof, you remembered how he hid his gun on finding Sarah. That threat was empty but the next one wasn’t, his words making you freeze in your spot.

“I think you keep on misunderstanding me, sweetheart. I don’t make empty promises,”

Posh word for threats.

“For starters, maybe I should pay my future in-laws a visit in their blue duplex. They might need help with the vast garden they have, it is the season for ‘violets’, isn’t it?”

As you froze with your parents being brought up, he also cooled, albeit differently, smirking once again gaining the upper hand, not that he lost it if you were being honest.

“Isn’t threatening my kid enough for you, Steve?” You hated how your loud voice almost broke, your anger slowly subsiding into helplessness and you hated that. You hated his guts, his entitlement, his claim; everything about him.

“You still don’t see it, do you? Our family of four is the most important thing to me right now and I’m not above doing anything to save it.”

“There is no family of four Steve! I keep explaining and you keep coming back to square one with all this bullshit!” The curse word did tick Steve off but he would correct that later, when bigger things weren’t at ploy.

“Your ignorance makes me a little mad sometimes sweetheart and that is why I have to do all I do. You haven’t realized we need each other yet, but I’m staying until you do and even after that, I promise. You know how much it pissed me off to see your tickets and the packed suitcases after I’ve been nothing but nice? I was so generous to spoil you with my riches but instead I find that in your finances.”

This fucker knew. Of course, he did!

You were wondering in the back of your head what had prompted this visit with so many threats and warnings and anguish. He was pissed even before you ‘acted out’, he tracked the tickets and the plan and that meant he even tracked-

“You have so much to learn, but luckily you interact with quite a few people. I am most tempted to start out with this Aiden guy, trying to be the hero and giving you all the ideas. Maybe I should visit him?” Steve wondered out loud, and you flinched at his suggestion, hating how you were trapped by this man.

You couldn’t live with yourself if anyone got hurt because of you, be it your parents or Aiden or any other possibility Steve would come up with. Of course, Grace was your peak priority but you doubted he would hurt her as he threatened to harm them.

“Steve, please.” The fire was almost out, your hands trembling, Grace worried and Steve smug.

“Let the kids go and I think we can come to a conclusion.”

“Steve this needs to stop.” You said, your breaths heavy and helplessness clawing away at you.

“I won’t repeat myself.” He voiced out with a threatening edge, gesturing to Grace and Wanda, clearly telling you to first get the kids out.

For a deranged fucktard, he sure cared about the kids a lot.

You loosened your hold on Grace, patting her arm softly and nudged her to Wanda. Wanda received her little hand and enticed the kids with the promise of ice-cream. Sarah clapped her hands and as the trio left, Grace did look over her shoulders at you in concern and for permission, majorly in concern though. You nodded and waved, a tear dropping as soon as the door clicked shut.

You were still staring at the door, not wanting to meet Steve’s stormy blue orbs when he began, “Today was a slip up that I won’t tolerate again. Neither the cursing nor the dramatics.”

We aren’t in a fucking play, what the fuck is he labelling as dramatics?

Your eyes slowly flickered to his, and you had a hard time not letting the tears escape except the one traitorous one earlier. The fatigue, the worry of Grace’s disappearance, the threats to your friends and family were all catching up to you. It took all in you to stay strong and not fall down right now.

“Steve this isn’t funny anymore. It’s sick and you know it! I just said no! Was that so inexcusable that you had to follow up with this? You have violated me for that, broken into my home and now kidnapped my daughter! At what extent will you stop?” You broke down finally, arms a flailing mess as fat tears rolled down. Nothing scared more than the helplessness this moment. He won and he knew it. The carnival incident was nothing in comparison to this. The only good thing you could hope in all this was a safe Grace but that too only if you complied, which seemed like what you would do now given your attempts at fighting back and scampering have failed laughably.

“Gosh, I forgot how theatrical women are. You are smart darling; you know what I want from day one, just a happy family. Nothing that horrendous has happened and especially not as badly as put it. I’m just looking out for you and me in the long run.” Steve slowly treaded towards you, his hand extended to pat your arm comfortingly but you involuntarily flinched at contact and stepped back. Steve clearly didn’t like that as he caught your arm in a bruising grip and jerked you towards him. Manhandling you as your wet hands rushed to ease his grip was not a tough task for Steve, a surprise to none.

“Stop trembling like I’ve actually done something to harm you!”

Steve clearly didn’t know how to comfort women and it showed.

You stopped with the cowering away, even though it disgusted you to be this much in close proximity with your assaulter. He clearly had anger issues and no clue how to solve them. You needed to steer the conversation right and get him out. You could see your hands visibly shake as you put them on his chest, just to create some distance and in a way of surrendering to not fight. The tears slowed but you don’t think they stopped; it was hard to tell with a million other things on your mind.

As your eyes made contact, Steve loosened his grip, clearly a bit satisfied by your submission, as he began counting to help you breathe. As much as you hated to admit, it helped you and you got a flashback to the time when you freaked out on him about Grace at that extravagant dinner date. That was a sweet gesture then, not so sweet now. Funny how drastically things change with time.

It wasn’t so much Steve’s help as it was your own mind telling you to be fucking smart about the whole ordeal right now.

“Good. Better. Now let’s talk. Why were you planning to run away? I’ve been busy and coming home to find out that wasn’t joyful, you know.” His smile suggested a better mood than before but his voice, his husky voice always had this daring edge that almost challenged you to defy him but at the same time warned you of unpleasant consequences if you did.

“Steve, I’m scared.” You spoke with utmost honesty. “The part of the world you associate yourself with scares me. You can’t blame me for not wanting that life for Grace, I mean you have a kid of your own. Wasn’t the carnival attack specifically on Sarah?”

The reasoning was right but you knew you triggered him the moment his smile evaporated. He either felt insulted as a parent or disrespected in his profession or probably both.

He was fighting his inner demons already and you pointing it out was a slap to his face, a hit he didn’t want to take.

“That was a slip up, I admit. Never again. I’m only human, okay?” He convinced himself and you, his grip tightening a bit again.

Oh no, not the right direction to take.

You reckoned he still had nightmares about it like you, he really did love Sarah a lot, all things aside.

“Besides, I am looking out for you! Out for you and Grace and Sarah. I remember my promise of never putting either of them in harm’s way ever again.”

You definitely didn’t trust his security or his people because what sort of a mobster let his daughter get targeted and possibly abducted? You definitely didn’t know the whole story or if it was just a bad day but he wasn’t a person that deserved some slack. Despite all this, you knew what all he held above you, above a common man. He might not be ‘Kingpin’ skilled but a threat to you nonetheless.

Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “Is that what you call following me around, huh?” which you immediately regretted.

“Trust the process, baby. Everything is just to protect you.”

Is that what he called stalking even Grace around and twistedly enough, sending you proof of that? The anonymous thread of photos was another nightmare of yours, thanks to him. The last being a candid photo inside Grace’s room, her sleeping in her bed this morning and that’s when you decided you needed to get out. Of course, that didn’t go as planned.

“How am I supposed to do that when you have cameras in my house?!” You scoffed and he reeled back at the accusation, having the nerve to look impressed at being uncovered and caught red-handed.

“Oh my fucking God, it was you! You sick pervert!” You jumped out of his grip, your eyes wide and horrified. “I wasn’t aware of what to make of it but of course, it was you! Who else would be sick enough to do that?” You let out a humorless chuckle. You always put things past him even when you keep telling yourself you shouldn’t. When will you ever learn huh?

You were full on panicking yet again, this man was an assaulter, a stalker and a creep too. It would have made a good dark, psychological thriller for you to watch if you weren’t the protagonist about to suffer his obsession.

He reached out to steady you again, but you whipped and stumbled back, realizing too late that you elbowed Steve’s nose so bad that there was a crunch. That, right there, was the look a man real-fucking-furious on Steve’s face and now you could see the feared mobster, the man who was personally terrorizing you under the beautiful, Greek God façade.

Steve reacted so fast even with an injury that in a split second, your view of his face turned into a view of his crotch.

“You do realize that there are others ways for me to teach you obedience? I think it’s fucking time you show me your gratitude for my care and attention and apologize for your misconduct and unkind response.” Steve spoke with a hoarse voice, a voice running out of patience and just about done with defiance.

His hand fisted your hair, maintaining eye contact while he nodded between you and his crotch. You knew what he wanted, what he was expecting as ‘thanks’.

“Steve, please no, you don’t-”

His other hand grabbed your jaw, stopping you from speaking as he warned, “I think you have done just enough talking for today, so why don’t you put that tongue to a better use and show me how sorry you are. Better make it convincing because I’d hate to pay one of your friends a visit and then bitch about a nasty blowjob.” He smirked at the end of his monologue, eyes shining with triumph and amusement.

You wouldn’t let him harm anyone else, you couldn’t. You and your daughter were already knee-deep in a pit and at this point, it’d just be cruel to drag someone else in. With shaky hands opening his pants, you just hoped you could get Grace out before you eventually were buried in it.

“Now that’s a good girl. Submissive is a sexy look on you.” His hands patted your hair, playing with your tresses while yours pulled his pants and then briefs down.

His member jerked out, almost slapping you in the face as you recoiled at his insolence to get hard and erect at your torment. Your disdain must have shown which he took as admiration and derision to take his affluent cock in.

“No need to get shy, I have faith you’ll be able take it just as well in your pretty pussy as you will right now. Open up-”

“Steve, I beg you-”

Just as you had cut him off, he interrupted your pleading. Your gag reflex was probably the most efficient in the world but that turned this narcissist on. It had been years since you had done it, never with a man as beefy as Steve.

His taste was salty and if you had to put it into better words, it was the like overpriced sea salt flakes that you never bought. High and pricey and for the entitled.

Your hands clutched at his thighs as you blacked out multiple times; your jaw aching, uvula swaying and tears escaping. Him forcing himself on you brough a new sense of vulnerability as your body trembled. Steve relished like a sadist, practically rutting into you all by himself as you just sat there with your jaw unnaturally open.

His obscene moans and groans were crass and nauseating and you just prayed for this to be over soon and for no one to walk in on this, especially your kid.

It seemed like it would never end, your body dehydrating with all the spit it produced, the drool dribbling and landing just beside your knees on your printed rug. You would have to throw that out.

The tears stooped after some point, the sobbing an unnecessary action that just tired you out more on this eventful day. You moved your tongue around to prevent your teeth from scratching him when he shifted angles. If this was what he did on slightly mad, you didn’t want to find what he did for a more serious punishment.

Apparently, that action was something that turned him on even more, his breath hitching as neared closure. In broken whispers he demanded that again and you complied, wanting to get done with it.

He growled in the moment of his release and you tried to lean back but his grip didn’t relent. “Swallow.” His grainy, exasperated voice said out loud and you knew better than to defy.

He released you and you fell on to the rug, hip bruising by knocking into some furniture and tears coming back again after being hydrated by his seed. He packed himself, his smile smug and content as his expressions truly resembled ecstasy being personified.

“You be a good fiancée from now on and maybe you’ll have all your friends alive and present at our wedding. No cheeky business from now on, got it?” Steve hummed then and strutted out, not even bothering to listen to your reply.

As soon as the door slammed, your eyes closed and your demons danced again.

There was no right direction to take when you were stuck in a loop.

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roscgcld · 3 years

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HEADCANON + VARIOUS || when their siblings are evil

request: Hello, I was kinda wondering how would Gojo, Itadori and megumi react to a their younger sibling being evil but she has a reason to being that way. [Headcanon] -

note: hmm - this one is really interesting! honestly i had never thought about their reactions if their younger siblings are evil! this was an entirely new idea to me, so i definitely enjoyed writing something like this

characters: gojo satoru, itadori yuji, fushiguro megumi

pronouns: she/her

GOJO SATORU

in this sense, I feel it’s not that shocking that if his younger sister joined forces with geto

if you weren’t born with the Six Eyes like your older brother, your clan will just treat you like a slave - like maki was treated when she was in the zen’in clan

after years of abuse and being told that you were a mistake, and that you shouldn’t have been born, and that you were a waste of space - that might crack you and made you go insane

gojo might have known this might happen, and had tried to move you away from the path of evil - because i feel like he would be a good older brother and shower you in all the love you deserve

he’d shower you in love and respect, getting you new clothes even if your parents tell him not to, spoil you rotten and even training you to use your powers under the cover of darkness

but sometimes it just isn’t enough though, and the emotional wounds are just too deep to heal - and he gets that

feel like he might end up blaming himself - what kind of older brother can’t protect his own baby sister? how can he call himself ‘the strongest’ when he can’t even protect the one person that he was born to protect?

screw the world - he’s your older brother. he should have seen the signs and stopped you from doing what you do

at the same time, he knows the reason why you left - you were sick and tired of the higher ups and their backwards thinking

the elders of your clan, the elders of other clans, the higher ups who control the jujutsu world - you hate them all, and you strive for the change that gojo wants to do as well. but with how you’ve been put down your entire life, and how underdeveloped your skills are, you went the only route you know - a route that strays you away from all you’ve ever known

if anything, he’s sort of proud - since along the way, geto definitely takes you under his wing and teaches you to unlock all the potential of your power - which will be a huge slap to the face for the rest of the clan and the higher ups

feel like he doesn’t have it in him to really take you down if he needs to, since he can see through you no matter what - how you’re scared to be on the run, how you hate being away from your older brother, how you know that you have innocent blood on your hands

yet you can’t leave, you’re in too deep now. and if you return, who exactly is there to stop the higher ups from killing you like they so desperate want to for so long?

he’d probably spare you out of all the sorcerers that the higher-ups have branded as traitors, because at the end of the day you’re still his baby sister

and no matter how twisted your views of getting to your goal has become, you two still strive for the same thing - and that is to rid the jujutsu world of people like them

plus, if he was being honest, he’d want to keep you around as a slap to the higher ups still lol; the biggest middle finger he can give to them is by keeping you alive for as long as possible

ITADORI YUJI

yuji, being the sunshine he is, would not have known why you decided to leave for the other side of the war

it wasn’t his fault - if anything, he was the best older brother to be around. he’s what people dreamed of when they think of having an older brother

he took care of you, make sure you and your grandfather was fed, made sure you didn’t need to worry about trivial things like money or when the pay the bills - you just focus on being happy and that’s all that he needs in return

feel like the reason why you left was more because of manipulation - if you can just grow stronger, you can protect yuji from getting executed. that you can make a better world for the both of you, that you two can one day live in a happy world where curses and sorcerers were far behind you

of course yuji will be upset - he doesn’t see the appeal of the other side, and always advocates for you to realise how geto and the other curses are using you for their own benefit

why would you give up your freedom to fight on the other side?

he’d be conflicted - this was the little girl who he used to braid her hair and cook for every day, the girl who he brought up from young to become the headstrong woman you are today. his best friend and the only person he can truly rely on during the darkest of times

how can he put that aside and hunt you down like you’re a prized animal in a hunting competition?

he’d wonder if he was a good brother to you too as well - wondering if he wasn’t giving you enough attention growing up, not as good as he thought he was at splitting his time for you

it’d take a lot of convincing from his friends that it wasn’t his fault, that you were being manipulated into thinking that this was the only way you can turn to in order to help him

since neither of you were really sorcerers to begin with - being thrown into a world where power dictates how you are treated would push anyone into a corner

he’d use that to probably train harder - to show you that you didn’t need to do the things you are doing to make sure he’s safe, that he can protect both you and him with ease

that you two can go back to how things were before all this

if you two ever meet in battle, i don’t think he’d be able to handle it - he’d be hesitate when it comes to hitting you with full power, since he didn’t want to kill you by accident

the last he needs is to have your death on his conscience

throughout the entire battle he might still try to convince you that it isn’t too late, that you can return back to jujutsu tech and learn from the best of the best, with a warm roof over your heads and friends you can really rely on

he’d stand in the way between you and any curse that tries to take you out, making sure that if either of you are to continue living, it’d be you

he’d lay his life down for you, even though he knows you’ve taken many innocent ones while getting to where you are today

he still has all the love of an older brother, and nothing people say or do will waiver the vow he took when he first held you in his arms - that he was going to protect you no matter what

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

with megumi, i can see why as well - you were abandoned at a young age, growing up watching your father working with all kinds of shady people

so it was natural for you to fall down the same path; since no one was really there to teach you right from wrong

i feel like megumi might have tried, and he really did try to show you that going down the path your father did was not the best idea - but how much can he do as a young child?

he probably feels more guilty as time goes by - child or not, he was your older brother, he should have tried harder to show you where you could have put that skill

wouldn’t breath a word about your existence to anyone, not because he doesn’t want to be associated with you. it’s more so your name will not be as well known as geto suguru - that maybe, there was a chance that the higher-ups might overlook you and you can sneak back in without causing too much waves

but the entire time, he might harbour all the guilt from not trying hard enough as a child to convince you that going to jujutsu tech was the best way to get stronger and show the zen’in clan that your father wasn’t a ‘waste of an heir’

the first time his friends will even find out you were an actual person is when you would run into them whilst you’re on a job - kill a target your client gave to steal some documents that they view as valuable

you didn’t notice them until you felt someone staring at you, to which you turn to face the person - ready to threaten to scoop their eyeballs out

“oh, hi nii-chan.” you’d greet with a casual grin as he stared at you in shock, nobara and yuji looking between the both of you curiously. “didn’t think i’d see you ever again.”

yuji and nobara might talk to you like you’re a normal person, but they kept their guards up still - something you found amusing, but still answering their question truthfully

megumi knew better - unfortunately you’re branded as an underground criminal, and if possible, any available sorcerer that bumps into you is to kill you before you accidentally reveal the existence of sorcerers and curses

however, no matter how hard he wills himself, he can’t do it - you’re still his flesh and blood. you may have chosen a path that’s different from his, but deep down you’re still living true to yourself

you’d glance over and see the conflict brewing in his eyes, to which you’d give him a soft smile before you lean over to grab his hand in his, causing him to snap his eyes up at you

“do what you think is right.”

with that you pulled away, and with another wave to the group, you melted into the crowd; somehow managing to disappear before their eyes

both his friends will be confused, looking around for you while he stared down at the hand you had grabbed, a slightly faraway look on his face

he’d probably realise that if anything, you’re living true to yourself and allowing yourself to fly so far ahead that you’ve slowly started to outshine any of them prior to this

and he’d feel weirdly proud, because you were still his baby sister, and you still achieved things that are worth being proud of

511 notes · View notes

marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

Taking Chances Ch. 28: Summer Changes (School)

AO3

A week after the Disney movie marathon, Marinette was finally back on patrol. No thanks to her dad though. If it was up to him, she’d probably never patrol again. Luckily for her, (unluckily for him) her brothers were adamant on her coming back to the field. Which led to her current problem. Hanging upside down from a gargoyle near Wayne Enterprises.

“Ukht, what have you done?” Damian asks, and though she can’t see his face, she can tell by his voice that he’s exasperated. Join the club, she thinks, at least you’re not upside down.

“Why do you automatically think I did something?” She asks, trying desperately to turn around so that she can talk to him. It was really awkward talking to someone when you couldn’t see them but you knew they were near you.

“Because you are the one hanging upside down,” Damian says flatly. She huffs.

“It’s not like I want to be, Robin. It just kind of happened,” She says.

“And how exactly did it happen? I have never seen your yoyo betray you like that before. Not even in the videos when you were still very new.” Damian says, and she swears he’s smirking. He’s definitely laughing at her on the inside, and as much as she wants to be frustrated, she can’t. It wasn’t easy amusing her little brother (unless you were an animal) so she wasn’t about to ruin it.

“Hood made a bet relating to this exact gargoyle and I’d never been this way before and I just, I don’t know. Somehow I misjudged where my yoyo was going and next thing I know, I’m tied up and Hood is gone.” She says, sighing.

“Where did he go?” Damian asks.

“Over here so I could record the dumbass trying to untie herself.” Jason says with a snort, she manages to turn just enough so she can see him and stick her tongue out at him. He chuckles. “You’re the one who somehow tied herself up with a magic string, I’m just getting the proof so I can show Wonder Woman.” He says and Marinette’s jaw drops.

“You wouldn’t dare!” She screams, struggling against her yoyo, finally able to get the string to loosen slightly.

“Oh, I’d dare.” Jason says and Marinette just knows he has a huge smirk underneath his stupid helmet.

“But Wonder Woman is the coolest person ever and she can’t see me like this!” Marinette complains, trying not to grin when she feels the string start to move the way she needs it to. She ignores Jason’s next remark, instead focusing on the string and- yes! She free falls for a moment, laughing at her brothers’ panic before she swoops up and jerks Jason’s phone away from him.

“You little shit!” He calls after her, starting to chase her.

“You’ll get it back once I delete the videos!” She calls back, laughing as she continues swinging through Gotham, a warm feeling in her chest as she looks over the city that has quickly become her second home.

---

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” A voice screams, making Marinette jump out of bed with a yelp. She clutches her hand over her heart, glaring at her oldest brother.

“Are you trying to make sure I don’t make it past my fifteenth birthday?” She asks with a huff. Dick just grins.

“Happy birthday kiddo! I can’t believe you’re already fifteen!” He exclaims, picking her up in a giant hug. She wants to complain, ask him to let her down, but it’s nice, so instead she returns the hug the best she can. Until she glances out the window.

“Richard Grayson.” She says in a tone she usually reserves for enemies. She feels him stiffen, the hug turning into more of a restraint than a cuddle.

“Yes?” He says.

“Did you honestly wake me up, before the sun, because it’s my birthday?” She asks.

“Yes?” He says, his voice cracking slightly. She purses her lips and lets out a long sigh.

“Dad has a no killing rule.” She says, and suddenly she’s back on the ground.

“Oh would you look at the time, Mar’i needs another bedtime story loveyousomuchgottagobye.” Dick rushes out, practically sprinting out of her room. She just smiles and shakes her head. She’d learned intimidation tactics from Jason and Damian, who both claimed her size made her an easy target against bad guys. They were right, of course, so she was fine with a few extra lessons. Seems they were working. Deciding to call her Maman and Papa since she’s already awake, she frowns as it goes straight to voicemail. It would be nearly eleven in Paris, so the bakery shouldn’t be too busy. She quickly checks the Akuma Alert App to make sure she hadn’t missed anything while she slept. Nothing. So why weren’t they answering? She had assumed they would be waiting for her call since it was the first birthday she’d spent without them. Sighing, she lays back down on her bed, closing her eyes and trying to fall back asleep.

As she lays there, she frowns as a realization hits her. This was the anniversary of her birth mother’s death. Her mood instantly sours and her stomach churns. It was the first year that she could do something about it, the first year she could visit her grave. Quickly making a decision, Marinette throws on a pair of black leggings and an oversized black hoodie. Hopefully no one would spot her.

“Kaalki.” Marinette calls out quietly, not wanting to wake Tikki (who had somehow slept through Dick’s intrusion).

“Oooo, Guardian, are we sneaking out?” They ask, an amused smile on their face. Marinette frowns.

“Yes, but it’s for a good reason.” She says, and Kaalki snorts.

“Whatever the reason, I’m happy to be of assistance.” They reassure her. Marinette smiles and calls the transformation, opening a portal in the cemetery where her birth mother is buried. Her Maman had taken her once, right after telling her she was adopted. It was extremely hard to avoid being akumatized that day, and Marinette steels herself before dropping Kaalki’s transformation. Today would probably be even harder. Pulling the hood over her head to try and hide her identity, she glances around the cemetery, unsurprised to see the small place empty. Despite its small size, it was well taken care of, with beautiful trees adding shade and creating a melancholy feeling. Taking a deep breath, she walks over to the tombstone in the far corner, underneath the Willow tree. Bridgette Le. Died July 9th. Marinette barely notices the tears that start to form as she sits down, tucking her knees into her chest.

“Hi Mama. I-I’m sorry I haven’t really been by to see you much. Did you know I’ve been spending the summer with Dad? Sometimes, I wonder if you would’ve been okay with that. None of us really know why you left, why you didn’t tell him. I’m not blaming you, I just wonder if you would’ve been okay with me knowing him.” She talks, though she knows she’ll never hear a response. And she tries to pretend that fact doesn’t hurt her. “I have brothers. Four of them. They’re all great in their own ways, but they all also make me want to rip my hair out. Three of them are older, Damian’s younger than me. He kinda acts like a big brother at times though. And I have a big sister, Cass. She doesn’t say much, but she’s awesome. She’s in Hong Kong right now, so most of our conversations have been video calls. I have a niece, too.” Marinette stops, wiping furiously at her eyes. She didn't want to cry. At all. But knowing her birth mother would never be able to be part of her life, would never know any of these people like she did- it was hard.

“Guardian, please breathe.” Kaalki says, floating up to sit in front of Marinette’s face. Marinette blinks at the Kwami before listening to them. If they were worried, then Marinette was more lost in her head than she originally thought.

“And today’s my birthday. I was excited at first, and then I remembered the other thing that this day was. Remembered that it’s also the day you-” Marinette pauses, and grits her teeth. “I am so sorry, Mama. I am so sorry that I caused your death.” She chokes out, dropping her head onto her knees, trying to suppress the sobs threatening to break out of her chest.

“We need to go. Marinette, we need to go.” Kaalki urges, patting her cheek urgently. Marinette calls the transformation and falls through a portal, closing it quickly to keep the butterfly that was surely after her from following. She definitely didn’t need to test how far the victim had to be to be akumatized. The second she lands, she lets the transformation drop and the sobs break out.

“Shit Pixie.” Jason curses, and suddenly she’s wrapped in a warm hug, sobs tearing through her as she continues to apologize.

---

Jason Todd had been through a lot of weird shit. Waking up in a pool of green water after being fucking murdered by the Joker, was weird. Emotional baby sister falling through a portal into the room and sobbing? Also weird. But also heartbreaking. He grabs onto her and just holds her, desperately trying to give her some type of comfort.

“Shhhh, it’s okay Pix. I got you.” He mumbles, holding her close. Damian rushes in, sword drawn, face scrunched up when he sees them. Jason shakes his head, this wasn’t something that they could fix with a sword. He wasn’t exactly sure why his baby sister was crying so hard, but he had caught a couple of muffled apologies, so whatever it was, he didn’t think it was something that he (or Damian) could kill. Or, rather, maim, since she was against murdering people that were against her for some reason.

“Has anyone seen Mars, she’s not in her room-” Replacement starts, freezing as he walks into the room.

“Excellent situational awareness, Drake.” Damian mutters, glaring at him. Jason shoots both of them a glare, now was not the time to be fighting. Especially since the kid’s other parents were on their way to celebrate her birthday. If they showed up and she was sobbing, they’d take her home and never let them see her again. And Jason was NOT going to let that happen.

“Anyone know if M’s decided to not kill me yet?” Dick asks, walking into the room with a huge grin that falls the second he sees what’s happening. Jason resists the urge to roll his eyes. Apparently none of his brothers could read a fucking room. Instead of staying at the edge of the room like Damian and Tim, Dick walks over.

“Hey kiddo, it’s okay. We’re here.” He says softly. The kid pulls away from him, though he can tell it’s a little reluctantly, before launching herself at Dick, her sobs starting to die down. Jason lets out a short huff, running his fingers through his hair as he tries to think of what could have set her off. There were no akuma alarms, but she fell out of a portal. Which means she was out of the manor when she got upset. He watches as Dick pats her hair gently and whispers to her. God, he’s such a dad. Then again, he’s been mother henning him and their other brothers for years, so it’s not really a surprise.

“I’m sorry guys.” Marinette says suddenly, her voice small as she stays hidden in Dick’s arms.

“No need to apologize, Pixie Pop.” Jason reassures her. She finally pulls away from Dick and Jason’s heart, honest to god breaks at the broken look on her face.

“She died in childbirth, you know.” She whispers, and suddenly it makes sense. Why she was sitting there sobbing on her birthday, why she’d fallen out of a portal.

“That is not your fault.” Damian says firmly, walking over and standing face to face with Marinette, something Jason knew annoyed the girl. Damian was two years younger, but a little taller than her. She didn’t seem to mind now, though.

“But it was. If I hadn’t been born-” She starts and Jason frowns at the thought.

“The world would be a much shittier place.” He says with finality, not leaving room for her to argue. “Pix, you’re amazing, and the world would really suck without you. Never be sorry you were born.” Jason says firmly, stumbling slightly when she launches herself at him, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

“Thank you Jay.” She mumbles, and he can tell she’s crying again, but this time it’s not sobs, so he thinks it’s fine.

“Come on, let’s all watch a movie.” Repla- Tim suggests and Jason raises an eyebrow at the idea, briefly wondering what kind of movie he’d pick. They all pile on the giant sectional that Bruce had bought specifically for impromptu movie nights as Tim sticks the DVD in. Jason just snorts as the title card for “The Addams Family” comes on, settling back in the couch, ready to watch one of the greatest movies ever.

---

“Thank you again for flying us out here for her birthday.” Sabine says, smiling at him. Bruce returns the smile and nods.

“Of course, thank you for letting her spend the summer here. I know she’s appreciated the break from her classmates.” He says, his smile quickly fading at the confused look on both Sabine and Tom’s faces.

“What do you mean?” Tom asks.

“Marinette hasn’t told you?” Bruce asks, suddenly regretting bringing it up. Why hadn’t she said anything? They were her parents too. Sure, she’d made it clear they couldn’t know about Ladybug, but her class wasn’t a hero problem. They were a civilian problem.

“We knew that she wasn’t hanging out with them as often, and that she didn’t talk about her class as much as she used to. We just assumed that she was busy.” Sabine says, her face a mixture of sadness and anger.

“My apologies, I assumed she’d talked to you.” Bruce says, feeling as if he had crossed a line. Would they be mad at him, for her telling him something she hadn’t told them?

“She’s always looking out for others first,” Tom finally sighs, a tired smile on his face. “She probably thought she was saving us from being akumatized.” Bruce’ jaw clenches. Had Marinette really suffered in silence to avoid being forced to fight her parents?

“We can continue this conversation later, right now we should focus on her birthday.” Sabine says, placing a hand on Tom’s arm. He nods and Bruce makes a note to talk to the two about the possibility of her switching schools.

“She’s probably in her room.” Bruce says, leading the two towards the stairs.

“Actually, Master Bruce, the children are all in the informal sitting room. I believe they snuck down to have a movie night after Master Dick woke Miss Marinette to wish her a happy birthday.” Alfred says, Bruce watches his face and knows that’s not all, but doesn’t press. It had to be something that he couldn’t talk about in front of the Dupain Cheng’s.

“Of course they did. Thank you, Alfred. Alfred, this is Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain, Marinette’s parents. Tom, Sabine, this is Alfred Pennyworth. He’s the man who raised me.” Bruce says, smiling at him. The three exchange pleasantries and soon Bruce is leading the two to the sitting room. He pushes the door open gently, careful not to let it slam. He spots a sword on the floor near Damian and quickly grabs it, moving it away. If he was woken up suddenly, he would still panic and attempt to fight his way out.

“She looks so peaceful.” Sabine whispers, and Bruce smiles, a genuine smile, he didn’t have to fake a smile when most of his children were together and safe and happy. Or, quiet, at least. It was rare.

“I’ve found them like this several times.” Bruce admits, pulling out his phone to show the two all of the pictures he’d taken of the kids piled together sleeping. Sabine and Tom smile widely at the pictures and Bruce quickly sends them their favorites.

“B, I swear to god, I can sense you in here. Let us sleep.” Jason mumbles grumpily.

“Sorry Jason, Marinette’s parents are here so it’s time to get up.” Bruce says, amused at the way his son’s hair was attempting to defy gravity. Jason looked around sleepily, waved lazily at Sabine and Tom, and then collapsed back on the couch. Bruce sighs. “Would the two of you like to have a cup of coffee while we give them a few more minutes to sleep?” He offers.

“That would be lovely.” Sabine says, and Bruce leads the two to the kitchen, hoping Tim (who had sat straight up after Jason flopped down) would take the hint and wake up the others.

---

Marinette sighs happily as everyone sits down at the table for dinner. The day had been amazing, despite the rough start. And her Dad had even flown her Maman and Papa out to spend the day with her. They couldn’t stay for long, they had the bakery to run after all, but it was still nice to see them. Marinette glances at the end of the table where a place was set, but no one sat.

“What’s with the extra plate?” Jason asks, turning to Alfred who was sitting in the chair next to it instead of his regular seat.

“It is for Miss Le.” He says, and she can almost feel everyone freeze. Her throat tightens, but she still smiles at him with watery eyes.

“Thank you, Alfred.” She says quietly. He nods.

“You are quite welcome, Miss.” He says. She clears her throat and looks back at her Maman, noticing that her smile was also a little sad. It had been all day, but Marinette was certain it wasn’t anything to worry about. Bridgette had been close with her Maman, surely she was just mourning her today, openly for the first time in a long time.

---

Marinette groans at whoever is trying to wake her up.

“Five more minutes.” She mutters, burrowing deeper under the covers. It was summer break, why wouldn’t anyone let her sleep?

“Come on sweetheart, your Papa and I want to talk to you and Bruce.” Her Maman says, and she immediately sits up. Was she in trouble? Had her Maman figured out the whole Batman thing? Had she figured out the Ladybug thing?

“Uh, okay.” She says, sliding out of bed and stepping into slippers. She wasn’t sure how serious the conversation was, but since her Maman didn’t stop her from walking out of the room in her pajamas, she relaxed slightly. It couldn’t be that serious, right? She follows her Maman into her Dad’s study, glancing wearily at the clock in the corner. Her Maman was often too observant. Hopefully she didn’t notice anything odd about the clock. They all sit in silence for an entire minute until Marinette can’t handle it anymore.

“Am I in trouble?” She asks hesitantly, looking between her parents’ faces.

“Of course not, we just- We noticed how different you are.” Her Maman says and Marientte frowns, furrowing her eyebrows. Different? She was different?

“How?” She asks.

“You’re happier than I’ve seen you in months honey. Your smile reaches your eyes, you talk freely, you seem peaceful.” Her Maman says softly, and Marinette blinks in surprise. Had she really been so easy to read in Paris? Had her parents really been able to tell? She’d wanted to hide it from them, not let them see how everything was piling on her, crushing her. She didn’t want to worry them.

“What do you- how-” She stumbles over her words, trying to figure out where she messed up.

“We didn’t know why until we talked to Bruce.” Her Papa says and she turns to glare at her Dad, feeling a little betrayed. He holds up his hands in surrender.

“Marinette, you didn’t tell me not to tell them about your class.” He reminds her, and she huffs.

“Guess we can cross mind reader off the list of things you can do.” She mumbles, making her Papa snort.

“It wasn’t just that though. We’d seen how restrained you had become, how you never went out with friends and you stopped talking about them.” Her Maman says softly. Marinette grits her teeth, hugging herself to try and hold herself together.

“I didn’t want to worry you.” She says, her voice barely audible. That wasn’t the main reason though. She didn’t want to fight her parents, and if they knew everything going on with Lila, they’d definitely be akumatized. She couldn’t fight them. Not if she could help it.

“What would you say about transferring schools?” Her Maman asks suddenly, and Marinette jerks her head up, looking at her with wide eyes. Transfer schools? It would be great, amazing, fantastic, but- but her classmates would still come to the bakery. Still give her the same odd looks they’d been giving her since they found out that she’s a Wayne.

“What school?” She asks, because yes, that makes a difference. Chloe had transferred schools not long ago, and Marinette did not want to trade Lila for Chloe. She’d rather not deal with either of them, if she was being honest.

“Gotham Academy.” Her Maman says, and Marinette feels lucky that she wasn’t drinking anything, because she would have definitely done a spit take. Gotham Academy? As in, live in Gotham year round? What-

“Are you giving me up?” She asks, suddenly hurt. Her Maman’s eyes widen and her Papa pulls her into a giant hug.

“Of course not honey.” He says, rubbing her back gently and squeezing her lightly.

“We asked Bruce if he thought Gotham Academy would be a good school for you. He offered to let you fly home some weekends, and any of the breaks you want. Or to fly us out here if you have time off school. You don’t have to say yes, and you don’t have to make a decision right now.” Her Maman reassures her as her Papa lets her go. Marinette turns to look at her Dad, his face unreadable.

“Would you really be okay with that?” She asks, and he nods.

“We all just want you to be happy, Marinette. Wherever that may be. And we’re all willing to work together to do that.” He says and she smiles, letting out a soft sigh.

“I- I’d need to think about it a little more,” She says, running through the idea in her head. It seemed perfect, besides the whole ‘bouncing back to Paris for attacks’ thing. But she’d been doing it all summer, it had been fine so far. And maybe, maybe, Hawkmoth would even be defeated by the end of summer. No matter what, things were changing and Marinette was trying her best to keep up.

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pepsicup · 3 years

Text

Problems Of A Spaceman

Chris Beck x Stripper!Reader 6.4k words

Summary: Chris attempts to gain some confidence back after his fiancée leaves him, though, the journey is different than he thought it would be... (smut, mentions of cheating, self-deprecation, exotic dancing, space kink because duh, dope fucking music choice if I do say so myself)

Author note: yes I did write this four years ago, this is an updated version since I recently found it after deleting my other blog, enjoy.

2037

It shouldn’t even be a thing. Chris didn’t get nervous, this was something new for him. After thirteen years of education, five standard spacewalks and a back-to-back trip to the newly colonized neighbouring red planet, nothing should phase him anymore – but that was space. There were things significantly more nerve-wracking than his current situation; perhaps he was better at being an astronaut than fulfilling his social and romantic life.

While taking all the prerequisites required for NASA and in medical school, he didn’t have time for fraternizing with anyone, most people in the medical field experience that. It was a miracle that he could even keep the attention of his ex-fiancée during the mission to Mars since he didn’t exactly know how to flirt. No matter how intelligent he was, all of that did nothing to help him in his personal life and everything that came with it.

Furthermore, the sexual aspect was a problem for him, too.

He’s never had an opportunity to explore himself with another person, of course, he’s had plenty of sex but, it was nothing more than the standard modus operandi. Beth was hard to navigate, she was disengaged and blatantly selfish, eventually blaming him for her unfaithful tendencies and lack of interest when he was the only one making an effort. It ended as it began, a complete circumstantial shitshow and because of that, he is on a mission to gain self-confidence back.

Since she kicked him out, he’s been sleeping in the spare room of his good friends’ house for the last couple of months while his new apartment is being renovated. Mark Watney was a single man who knew what that position felt like, and who also knew the beginnings of a solution. The ability to pay women for their undivided attention did wonders for a man’s ego, especially at an exclusive gentlemen’s club rather than a regular strip joint. It is more of a candid transaction that was valued at both ends.

And it is very exclusive. It required a reservation to save a slot since it was so well-known and a general, but hefty, fee at the door as insurance.

He made it sound like the easiest thing in the world, but on the other hand, Chris was so fucking anxious to go that he could vividly feel his blood pumping in overdrive. He’s never, ever attended a place like that before. But as he looked up at the classy, luminescent sign of the building that lit up the dark parking lot, he started to wonder what exactly he’s getting himself into. Just as long as he isn’t awkward, maybe everything will be okay.

Don’t be weird, don’t fuck it up. Simple.

He repeated those words in his head as he was looked over by the heavy before being let in and did everything the lady at the front desk told him to. After that, it was time to be escorted through the big fancy door.

The initial shock passed through him quickly, the smell of perfume, cigars and liquor weren’t as bad as he thought it was going to be. But once he rounded the corner into the main lounge the nerves were back. The wild colours in the dusky lighting gave the atmosphere an alluring feel as he bared witness to scarcely clothed women dancing on stage, at tables with other men and walking around the floor.

He adjusted his ball cap to sit lower on his face and scanned the room for a free seat, suddenly feeling a little overwhelmed and needing to sit down before he either collapsed or backed out entirely. Chris Beck was not good at this.

Could he perform surgery after surgery for 16 hours straight? Yes.

Can he proudly say that he is an award-winning astronaut that helped shape the future of space science? Fuck yeah, he can.

Can he say that he can bed anyone he wants and walk around like he owns the place? No, no he cannot.

The spaceman sat in a vacant booth near the left side of the stage, tucked away in a dark corner to observe as he planned. Yeah, he was good at observing. Watney reassured him before he left, stating that he did specialize in human anatomy and he should do what he does best...observe, evaluate and execute, which helped a bit. A doctor’s point of view was his only saving grace right now, he’d stick to that comfortable method for as long as he can.

Observe.

He found himself zoning in on different interactions that played out as time ticked by. Many lovely women took their turn on stage, very healthy and some men had been taken behind curtains and even thrown out for inappropriate behaviour. He made of a note of that in the back of his mind if there ever came a time. No touching.

He didn’t know how much time had passed since he arrived. There were a few nice girls who came over to talk to him, but he declined any offers they threw his way respectfully and chose to remain where he was instead. Although, just when he thought about turning in for the night, the lights suddenly dimmed until it was almost pitch-black. So dark that he couldn’t even see his hand.

The emcee bordered more background music that rattled his chest through the speakers above the circle booth, it increased slowly and he assumed it was building up to another track. The crowd of regulars and new attendees alike cheered loudly at the change of pace, Chris perked up and clapped along with them even though he had no clue as to what.

“Ladies, gentlemen and every-damn-one in between, we have a special treat for you tonight.” the man announced heartily.

He continued as the music came to a peak, then dissipated as he spoke the moniker of the next dancer, “Your house favourite has decided to give you a dance that I think is out of this world...please welcome to the stage, Ares”

The patrons went wild as Chris, on the other hand, went rigid – almost choking on his drink.

As the projected images of deep space filled the room in a flash, a dancer was now on stage walking around in something simple, yet sexy. No one could get enough of her or the choreography, staying for her performances that always seemed to have a different aesthetical essence every time she made an appearance.

The modest man couldn’t stop looking at her, she was the main focus of the room – but for him, the significance was completely different from the others. What were the chances that one of his biggest passions in life could be used as an exotic dance theme, materialized right in front of his eyes?

But when the music started...that’s when things even more interesting.

The song wasn’t one he anticipated, he assumed it would be the same club music that made his eardrums shudder, but this slow beat only made his senses buzz, and not just from the vibrations. He enjoyed the older music his commander played after years of listening to it. So, when he detected the beginning of this underrated 1972 classic by Harry Nilsson, this stripper had his full attention.

Bang, bang, shoot em’ up, destiny Bang, bang, shoot em’ up to the moon Bang, bang, shoot em’ up one, two, three (One, two, three, four)

The woman circled the pole as the song started to wind up, making little gestures to the regulars and letting the music guide her. She hit every deep strum of the guitar by waving her hips from side to side delicately, still holding on to the shiny metal planted at her side.

As the artist started to sing the corresponding words, she spun around the pole. The lights caught the small crystals on her one-piece and somehow, scattered like the night sky on her bare skin. Her hips moved sinfully as her body followed the fluid movements like Saturn’s rings, circulating with the natural orbit of the planet. Or pole in this case.

I wanted to be a spaceman That’s what I wanted to be But now that I am a spaceman Nobody cares about me

Next, with every distinct beat, she put her back to the pole, slid down and arose in one fell swoop. She twirled once, flipping her hair behind her head and rolling her lower body ‘round and around and around and around as the words called out above the hollering. The attention was now drawn to her lower body.

Highlighting her assets as dancers called it.

Hey Mother Earth, won’t ‘cha bring me back down Safely to the sea But ‘round and around and around and around Is all she ever say to me

She melted down on all fours to crawl across the platform, doing the next progressions effortlessly. She laid on her back, arching her body like a tidal wave entranced by the moon, rolling onto her stomach, and using her knees to sweep her torso across the floor until she was up in a kneeling position again.

The way she created a giant slip from her ass to her shoulders gave the perfect view of her behind to the men and women on the left side of the stage, money cascading across her body. It was quick yet elegant.

I wanted to make a good run I wanted to go to the moon I knew that it had to be fun I told ‘em to send me real soon I wanted to be a spaceman That’s what I wanted to be But now that I am a spaceman Nobody cares about me

She repeated similar moves to the first chorus but on her knees this time, feeling up her own body, wiggling her assets playfully at whoever she wanted – connecting with the audience. Chris was captivated by the way she carried her body like that, the slightly distorted music gave a sexy edge to her routine that caused his cock to throb in his jeans.

In his big doctor brain, he was trying to figure out how someone could be so graceful. Even if he felt ashamed of viewing her so strenuously, he justified it by observing her anatomy like the surgeon he was.

She didn’t wear high heels, opting to be barefoot, and the only extravagant makeup she wore was something that made her body sparkle. Her simple lingerie wasn’t something that stole the show, she just came as herself. The differences help him tell a lot about who she was, the little details sending signals to his genius mind.

Hey Mother Earth, won’t 'cha bring me back down Safely to the sea Around and around and around and around Is just a lot of lunacy (yeah, yeah)

The break in the lyrics gave a sense of anticipation, the echo prepared everyone for the next verse as the song swerved in and out of a muffled tone. Then, she was watching him.

Chris abruptly looked away as the mood changed, his breath hitching as he erratically glanced around before settling on her again. She appeared to be showing off for him now with a smile on her lips. He swallowed thickly as his mouth began to water and dry out at the same time, exchanging aggressive eye contact with the woman that had his undivided attention.

The music got lost in the background noise as they disappeared into their own world, his heart pulsed in his ear and his breath shallowed as everything around them was lost. It was like the earth had stopped spinning, the gravity giving out so the spaceman could feel weightless. There were faint pictures of the cosmos floating across his flushed skin, revealing his lip clamped between his impressively white teeth.

'Round and around and around and around and around (So bring me back down) 'Round and around and around and around and around Safe on the ground

He wasn’t trying to be sensual, Chris chewed his bottom lip when he was either content, uneasy or nervous. And nervous he was. Those eyes said innocence but the rest of him screamed sex fiend who could pound her into another universe if provoked, it definitely piqued her interest.

She never had the pleasure of seeing a person in tune with her like that before, it was refreshing. He looked like he was genuinely enjoying the way her body made him react but on a more personal level, something difficult to accomplish from 15 feet away.

Hey Mother Earth, better bring me back down Safely to the sea But around and around and around and around Is all she ever say to me, yeah

She had to be the one to break the intense eyefuck that was taking place, on both ends, in the middle of her set. Chris sensed the music drift back in, the planet rotating once more and coming back to himself after his mind floated away into endless space amongst many stars filling the void. As the song came to a close, she followed the rest of her routine with similar moves, collecting herself after a mere moment.

Everything was simply...simple.

But there was still so much of the unknown that came with the woman she was, remaining understated in this line of work and feeding a lot of emotion into her life passion. He could feel it.

That is the exact reason why she was a house favourite.

You know, I wanted to be a spaceman That’s what I wanted to be But now that I am a spaceman Nobody cares about me Say hey, you Mother Earth, you better bring me back down I’ve taken just as much as I can But around and around and around and around Is the problem of a spaceman

Evaluate.

That spaceman had a problem alright.

She just took him on a fucking cosmic ride that will be burned into his mind for the foreseeable future. His pants were now painfully tight, pressing his cock close to his body so that every time he moved his tip would be stimulated by his silky briefs. He was being forced to evaluate his current predicament.

He thought about the next step as the projections faded from the room and her along with them, completely vanished by the time the lights dimmed down and back up again.

Chris originally wanted to stay for a while longer to watch some more, not pushing himself to do more than he was prepared for; progress takes time and it depends on the person. He evaluated the options in front of him, either pursue the course that led him to the woman who just blew his mind or, stick with what he had been doing for the past five months – fucking his hand while he rested alone in his bed.

Eventually, after he gave into the disconcerted feeling picking him apart, he went with the familiar option and kept his head down in disappointment at his lack of confidence, sliding out of the booth. He just wanted to go home at this point, maybe he would try again another day. He nearly reached the exit when a security guard abruptly stopped him from leaving, he thought he did something wrong at first but as it turns out, that was far from what was the case.

“No, you didn’t do anything—you’re being requested by a dancer” the large man chuckled.

Chris looked up at the man that towered over him, questioning the authenticity of the claim. He clapped him on the shoulder.

“If I were you, man...I would take the dance. She rarely takes requests but offering...one in a million”

The security guard walked him into the back where the exclusive rooms were and into one with a large circular seat, gentle lighting and parlour cabinet full of assorted items. It wasn’t a suffocating space, but he felt like he was running out of oxygen

“Enjoy the show, man” with that final word, he left Chris alone in the room.

Once the door clicked, he rushed to rub his sweaty palms on his dark jeans and took a shaky breath as he sat down, pulling on the neckband of his sweater. In the meantime, he worked on not being so high strung, the door being behind him didn’t help as he waited for her to come. While the anticipation slowly drove him nuts, he ran the three steps Watney reminded him of in his cloudy mind.

Observe, evaluate and...execute.

Execute.

He was startled at the hands sneaking around his shoulders and lightly down his chest, making him jump in a bit in the big velvet chair. He was too deep in his thoughts to hear the door open behind him or her walking in on his stiff back facing her. Chris heard her soft chuckle behind him and felt the warm air caress his sensitive neck.

“Easy loverboy” Ares cooed in a low voice.

If it wasn’t before, his heart was racing at lightspeed now. She had such a strong effect on him.

“...you’re very tense. Did you know that?” she whispered behind his ear.

He shivered at the feeling and slowly nodded, not trusting his stupid mouth to not say something awkward.

She chuckled again, “You have the prettiest blue eyes...even from a distance”

The woman walked around his seated boy, keeping her hands on him but moving them with her until she was faced with the mystery man from the darkest corner in the lounge. He wasn’t looking at her, but around her, and trying to find somewhere to rest his relentless gaze. It was all in vain though, she trailed her finger along his jaw and under his chin, forcing his eyes to hers.

“Hmm, there they are—better up close” she bit her lip softly.

He looks so timid, with his big beady eyes and those perfectly pouted lips working in the evilest ways. Chris blushed at the compliment, feeling better about himself already.

Watney might actually be right about this whole excursion after all.

“I—uh, thank you” he murmured.

Chris cursed himself for already stuttering like a dumbass.

In his defence, she was touching him ever-so-gently and how can he not trip up his words with her looking like a holy goddess. Ironic, given the circumstance. And now, he couldn’t look away.

Especially since her hands travelled upwards to pull his NASA ball cap off, then leaning forward while maintaining that close proximity as she unzipped his sweater, helping him pull it off.

“We don’t need those” Ares whispered, tossing the garments on the floor.

But there was always some teasing before the actual contact.

As she put distance between their bodies, he was resting almost slack in the chair – legs parted, arms limp at his side and in his lap as soft music began to play. The apple of throat bobbed in his tight throat as she began moving slowly in front of him, full of grace and precision. She was like a supernova, its effortlessly soft edges melting into the black of space as her skin did with her bodysuit. The fact that he was the only one seeing it made the experience that much sweeter, all those feelings coming back from earlier.

He was also able to recognize that she was wearing subtle glitter and rhinestones that temporarily fused to her skin, causing the shine and sparkle of her body on stage.

Once she gave him time to get comfortable, she spread his legs apart and hovered her back over his chest, grinding her ass into his lap. The shampoo and light perfume made his sex twitch as he inhaled it in, trying his best not to give in and touch. He kept his hands on the edges of the chair, his fingers digging into it painfully – he remembered what happened to the other guys, how they got thrown out. Chris just wants to watch, that’s good enough for him.

No touching.

Ares leaned forward slightly, arching her back and hitting his private areas in all the right places, gradually making him break out into a small sweat. The woman rubbed her ass on his lap expertly and before he knew it, she pressed herself against him to lay her head on his shoulder.

“I hope you know, the way you looked at me...you really know how to get a girl hot and bothered.”

Of course, he blushed again. His face was burning like the sun at this point.

“I...I was just enjoying it—you are very talented” Chris laughed nervously.

He turned his face slightly, absentmindedly following the heat of her skin until he was fanning her neck, so close...but never touching. He was so, sooo close, but felt so far.

She stood up without warning and slowly turned around, pushing him back into the back of the chair more and watching as he widened eyes dilated further at her forwardness. He’d clearly never had a lap dance so he probably didn’t know about what happened during one. She set her legs on either side of his thighs, effectively straddling him to get on with the real deal. She smoothed her arms around his neck and left them to hang lazily off the back of the chair, never breaking eye contact the entire time.

“That’s very sweet, I can feel how excited you are...”

As she began to move, their heads fell back simultaneously from the direct friction. Ares righted her head after a second and pressed into his personal space, their noses touching every time she moved up his lower body and back down again. She circled her hips a couple of times and breathed out a sigh, it was nice not giving lap dances to the clingy regulars and giving a man like this her talented movements and motions instead. It was different this time around, the atmosphere was weirdly intimate – he just gave off that energy.

“Very excited...” Ares added.

Chris shuttered as she rested her entire body weight on his clothed erection at the sentence, now realizing how difficult it was not to touch. Though she picked up on his hesitation and demeanour instantaneously. She stroked all over his arms, chest and stomach for the first time, feeling how cut the guy really was, there were endless muscles. Very practical.

He gave her a shy smile, “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way—to, uh...to have my body behave this way, I mean”

“Ah, I’m turning you on?...” she asked, leaning in.

Chris didn’t know what to say to that, he’s never been good in these situations and more often than not resorted to the only thing he knows everything about. He’s starting to lose his cool and what happens when he loses his cool?

Well, he is not very smooth.

“I, um...it’s the body sending signals the corresponding part of the brain...neurons fire commands and simulate the, uh...ohh,” a moan cut off his rambling.

He could feel himself getting closer to his release, something he didn’t want but also desperately wanted at the same time. He was already on edge when he was in the booth, his brain constantly stimulating his sex to the point where his boner couldn’t go away. The way it was being dragged across his pants made him groan even more.

She giggled, “Has anyone told you that you’re a dork when you’re nervous?”

Chris shook his head, closing his eyes to try and fight off his orgasm until the lap dance was over. He had to swallow most of the breaths that became more and more erratic with every sway of her hips.

The way his skin flushed a dark pink and his breathing picked up confirmed she was doing a good job, but the only thing that threw Ares off was the fact that he was shaking violently, a straining vein on his neck making an impression in his flesh. She was unknowingly pumping his shaft along with his jeans, practically coaxing his seed to just burst out of him.

Chris felt his balls go stiff, cock pulse and tighten right before he lost control. The thing that pushed him to his limit was his balls compressing between his legs when she quickly swivelled her hips. He gripped the arms of the chair and thrust his hips upward, letting out a long mewl and finally giving up on holding back as pleasure took over his ability to think properly. Ares stopped moving while he continued riding out his orgasm that felt too goddamn good, cum seeping out of his boxers and down his thigh.

Once he found a way to maneuver himself back to Earth, he went completely limp in the chair as if he just ran a triathlon when the reality of what just happened hit him. That just happened, he hasn’t cum in his pants since his first year of university, and didn’t have a clue of what to do about it.

Why didn’t he just stay home? He could have avoided this if he just isolated himself in his room like he usually did.

“Huh...that’s never happened to me before,” she said in a tone he couldn’t quite decipher.

He glanced away after opening his eyes, still in a daze, “I...um”

For a moment he thought he made her uncomfortable and was getting ready to apologize, possibly leave if she wanted him to. But instead, he tilted his head as the embarrassment on his face was replaced by confusion at her smirk and gentle eyes. She dragged her ass across him once, making him hiss at the sensitivity of his half-hard cock still dripping with arousal.

Usually, she didn’t allow excessive touching and avoided any kind of sexual encounters at work, it wasn’t her thing – but there was something about this one that told her he should be pleased. To be honest, he wasn’t some run-of-the-mill scumbag or pompous prick like the usual attendees are, she’s starting to see he’s a plain, genuine guy. That’s why it took him by surprise when she leaned down and pressed a long kiss on the crease of his throat, sucking on it periodically.

“...I thought there was no, mhmm, touching” Chris stammered.

Ares held on to the baby hairs at the back of his neck, then ran his soft hair through her fingers as she kissed her way across his face. Their lips brush together as she spoke.

“Shhhh, let me take care of you...and this” she moved on him again, a mischievous gleam in her eye.

Chris whimpered out a noise of surprise when she finally connected both their lips together, she sucked his bottom one between hers and nipped at it tenderly. She grabbed his hands, placing them on her to encourage him to feel her, to touch her body. He was hesitant with his movements, still diffident even when she slithered her tongue into his soft mouth, twirling and caressing his.

When they disconnected he panted heavily in the shared space, she hummed at his expression, desire. After she climbed off his lap and kneeled in front of him as her hands began to unbuckle his belt and tug at his zipper.

“Okay, this is happening? Right now?...oh” Chris breathed out.

Everything was happening so fast, he didn’t have time to think about the repercussions of his irresponsible, but tempting actions. His voice of reason was screaming its concern and he couldn’t help but listen to it as he sat there, immobilized while she worked his pants, then cum-soaked briefs down his legs.

“You really don’t have t—” he groaned throatily as she pumped his shaft.

It was always the dorky guys who have the nicest and fullest cocks she had ever seen without fail – he was no different in that department, a decent length, thickness and fit for her. Ares stroked him until he was fully solid again, admiring the way he turned his hips up at the feeling of her hand around him – at least, if they stopped now, he’d have a good visual to fuel his lewd imagination late at night.

She quirked a wholesome smile, “We need to clean you up before things get too heated”

Chris would have mentally retracted the concept of using her as ammunition for his masturbation thoughts, but he was too busy with his eyes rolling back at the most damning sight in the universe. She began to lick the cum from where it was on his body, on his cock, all over his thigh and what remained on her fingers; swallowing everything before working him over with her mouth.

“Jesus Christ...” he growled, reeling in an abrupt lust. He held the back of her head as she sucked him off, “it’ll be over very soon if you don’t get up here”

Even taken aback by his tone, she grinned and gestured at him stand up along with her, encouraging him to pull the bodysuit straps down. Chris kissed along her collarbone faintly, tugging the lingerie down to expose her breasts and gleaming heat to his eyes. He kissed her neck as best he could, not knowing if he was making her feel good in the least but still giving it his best shot.

“God, you are beautiful...”

Luckily, she moaned at his rumbling words on her skin, relaxing him a little bit.

This was crunch time, they need to do it now. Ares rushed to pull his white t-shirt off, appreciating his abs, pecs and biceps as she pushed him back down on the chair forcefully – he looked like a complete stud but had the sweetest personality ever. She giggled as he squirmed out of his pants and kicked off his shoes so he could be fully naked like her, climbing on him again as he did so.

Chris didn’t want anything binding him while this happened.

“Do you have a condom?” she mumbled against his lips, kissing him again.

He made an affirming noise, gesturing for her to pick up his pants where his wallet held one in a hidden pocket. He quickly fumbled the leather out and tossed it with his pants to the ground, barely getting the condom out before she snatched it and rolled it down the length of him. She propped herself on her knees, coating him in her growing wetness as she prepared to take him.

But, he hesitated and held her just above him.

“Are you...are you sure you want to do this—with me?” Chris asked, his eyes held a sadness that she never wanted to see from him again.

Of course, she wanted to...now more than ever.

To reassure him, she cupped his cheek with her free hand and pressed their foreheads together. The woman revelled in the way his mouth dropped open, eyes becoming hooded and a gasp hitching in the back of his throat as she sunk onto him. Looking deep into his eyes and watching the sadness dissipate into satisfaction. He grasped her waist with one arm as she began to ride him at a steady pace, his cock stretching her.

Chris groaned loudly, choking on his moans every so often when she caressed the right spot. The speed increased as he began to enthusiastically meet her thrusts, causing them to both murmur muffled whines and whimpers into each other’s mouths. One hardy smack of his thighs to her ass pierced their ears when he gave a particularly harsh snap of his body, pulling her down as he kept up with his hard thrusts into her.

“Fuck, do that again...” she shivered as he fucked her so carefully, making her needier every second.

He had his brows furrowed in concentration, focusing on pleasuring her and tried to forget the doubts he had to live in that moment. This was more than spontaneous sex for him, he was making love to someone – feeling good for once. He has never fucked someone before but, if anything, he was giving her the most carnal, admiration-fueled sex he could.

She bounced faster as he, in turn, bucked into her harder. She was clenching, he was throbbing...it was too much.

“God, that’s it, just like that,” he grunted, continuing to manually move her slowing hips.

“Shit, you’re gonna make me cum...” she groaned, “...please tell me you’re close”

Chris nodded fervently, keeping his eyes locked on her for as long as he could. In the final stretch, as her clenching became more prevalent, he kept one arm around her as he trailed his hand down to her clit. Just when started to rub, his fingers caught the nerves underneath and made her cry out.

“Does that feel good for you? Is it okay?” he asked politely.

Ares sobbed her ‘yes’ in a pitchy tone.

He hugged her tightly against him as everything started to unwind, leaving his pelvis to stimulate her clit. The woman clenched hard around him as she lost her vision, the way her cunt gripped made him speed up his thrusts to continue moving. Her low whine near his ear did him in, his lower body ghosted on a final thrust as he stopped completely – his heaving was muffled by the clenching of his teeth, letting himself tremble in her arms as he filled the condom with his cum.

After a while of sitting there, Chris broke the silence, “I...I think my time is up”

She laughed at his witty remark, not realizing how much that boosted his mood and tugged at his heart, or how she just single-handedly repaired his self-worth. There was no way to process it, all he knew was he felt amazing, he felt...content.

Ares stood on weak legs, climbing off him and allowing him to dispose of the condom. Chris had a dopey smile on his face as he pulled his pants back on and did the fastenings quickly, she was already back in her bodysuit by that time. He appeared to be lost in deep thought as she handed him his shirt, smirking at him – his skin flushed a soft rose when he finally noticed.

She scoffed.

“Do I really make you nervous—after that?” she retrieved his sweater and cap off the floor where they were forgotten.

Chris laughed quietly before shifting back to his serious face, smiling somewhat. She wondered why he was there in the first place when he could have women lining up; well, if he wasn’t so humble that is.

He cleared his throat, “uh...thank you for that by the way. You didn’t have to do what you did...I just” then began rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I’m not good at this stuff, one-time things and strippers—or, I mean exotic dancers, I didn’t mean for that to sound like th—”

To save him from himself, she curled her fingers around his shirt collar and pulled him in, kissing him thoughtfully. Chris cupped the back of her head right away and held her waist as she encompassed the modest stranger with her warmth. He chased her mouth after she broke away from his pursed lips, brows furrowing at his want to keep kissing her.

“You talk a lot, it’s sweet” she giggled at his actions.

Following that encounter, he felt like a new man. She let him make love to her, or fuck her, whichever it was. He couldn’t get over that woman, she felt authentic in his arms, unlike Beth who felt out of place and made him realize his ex was never meant for him at all.

Chris was walking away, leftover clothes in hand and messy sex hair weathered by her hands, but before he could slip behind the curtain leading back to the lounge, she called out to him. When he turned to face her, she was in a robe and leaning laxly against the wall, just as dishevelled as he was.

“For the record, I’m not good at this—” she gestured between them, “—either”

He drove home with a smile on his face and satisfaction coursing through him.

Although, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of having a mere fling. Not even knowing anything about her while doing something so intimate, something personal to him. He wished he would have asked her real name or her number, so he could thank her properly or even, possibly ask her out.

He had a feeling about her, the attraction was undeniable now.

Perhaps it was a god working some sort of miracle or the planet’s alignment giving him mystical energy, maybe something as simple as luck. But, as he started to get ready for bed that night, a piece of paper fell out of his jeans as he stripped to have a shower.

Curiously, he picked it up and looked it over.

xxx-xxx-xxxx Just because I knew you wouldn’t ask for it. Call me sometime. – Y/N

Maybe he would take her out.

After all, he felt as if they had this connection, even if it was unconventional from any other relationship he had before. One thing he knew for sure was he liked the sound of her name on his tongue, repeating it in front of the mirror and practicing what to say to her...thinking about her until he fell fast asleep.

The spaceman used to have problems, but now?

He has none.

#the martian #sebastian stan #chris beck #chris beck smut #chris beck x reader #chris beck x reader smut #sac writes #space daddy

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Note

will you do an oompaville x reader.? like maybe one where you’re at a wedding with him and he asks you to dance.?

Omg an oompaville request!!! I'm so grateful dear! Thank you so much for your lovely request, please enjoy the one-shot 🥰

Perfect Sync

Pairing: Oompaville (Caleb) x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

There are certain pros and cons to being so distanced from your extended family. And I mean DISTANCED, in all capitals. I actually live in a completely different state on the completely opposite side of the US and yet I still somehow got an invitation to my cousin's wedding. To be fair, it's not that surprising, seeing as how she's the only cousin I have comprehendible memories with from my childhood. She's a really sweet girl - no, woman - and it kinda sucks that we haven't had the chance to catch up in so long.

Among the many other cons is the fact that I don't know a single person at this wedding. Not. A. Single. Person. Sure, there have been several elderly and middle aged couples who've approached me, claiming they know me and given me a huge hug, asking me how my parents were doing. Speaking of my parents, they are a pair of sneaks who avoided coming to the wedding themselves saying they were stuck with a stomach virus while they're actually vacationing in Canada. How wonderful of them, don't you think?

They are chilling in Canada and I'm over here boiling and sweating over my third, possibly forth glass of champagne of the evening, not to mention the wedding hasn't even properly started yet. Count on me switching to whiskey when it does.

Sitting at the table I was pointed to upon arrival, I let my gaze skim over the immense garden decorated with beautiful flowers, fairy lights and handmade décor pieces. Each table and bar is under a white tent, just like the one I’m currently sitting under. It’s a beautiful sight and I can only imagine it’s only gonna get even prettier when the sun finally sets completely and all these fairy lights come on. That’s one of the few good things about my attendance at this event today. The ‘good’ things have been so little in number I can probably count them on the fingers of one hand: 1.I briefly saw and chatted with my cousin who was practically trembling out of excitement, anxiety and happiness. Good for her; 2. I’ve downed so many drinks that would probably cost me a fortune at a club or bar and I’m decently buzzed. Very cool; 3. I made friends with one of the bridesmaids because I had time to kill - turns out she wanted to be at this wedding as much as me: not at all; 4. I caught a whiff of the dinner which was still being cooked and damn am I excited about it; 5. The garden is absolutely breathtaking and it’s a sight worth sticking around for. See, as I said, few enough good things to be able to count them on the fingers of one hand.

And what about that cute guy from earlier?, my subconsciousness nudges me teasingly, causing me to almost evidently roll my eyes.

The hot guy being referred to right now is the one I damn near ran over when I was pulling up to this fancy estate. In my defense, I’m still getting used to the rental car I got when I landed in Texas two days ago, and plus he came out of literally nowhere. Luckily, he wasn’t mean or upset about it, took it quite lightly which was relieving and surprising.

Not gonna lie though, he was really cute.

I see the people all over the garden hurriedly take a seat when it gets announced that the newly weds are about to have their first dance. I cross my legs, finishing the champagne in one go before I can focus my attention on the lovely couple that’s just stepped out of the mansion-like house and onto the soft grass of the lawn, slowly making their way towards the center where they’re supposed to have the dance - aka where everyone will be dancing afterwards too.

Everyone but me, I’ll be busy chilling by the bar, hopefully in the company of that bridesmaid who I can crack jokes with without feeling guilty.

The two dance in perfect sync, their movements almost mesmerizing to the human eye. I’m no professional dancer but I don’t have two left feet either, yet I’m still amazed by this perfection before me. I bet all the cash I took with me from New York - which is a lot, I expected to spend a lot - that they’ve practiced this more than once. Or at least I hope they have as to make me feel better about my own skills - or the lack thereof.

“I take it you’re a lot less dangerous when you’re not behind the wheel.“ A quiet comment emerges next to my ear, loud enough for me to hear but hushed as to not disturb the couple nor the mob of people watching them in awe.

My eyebrows shoot up. I’ve maybe heard that voice only once before but that teasing tone made me blush like mad earlier and that’s hard to forget. I have a hard time forgetting embarrassment.

Biting my lip, I slowly turn to face him, “I can’t guarantee, there are plenty of sharp objects around after all.“

There’s that same wide smile I saw earlier when my entire life flashed before my eyes. His probably did too but unlike me, he didn’t show it. “Some luck I have sitting next to you then.“ He chuckles, handing me a glass of whiskey. I take it hesitantly, giving him a suspiciously raised eyebrow. “You look like you could use one.“ He shrugs, taking a sip of his own. When my expression doesn’t change and I don’t make a move to ingest the beverage, he rolls his eyes, “Yeah I’m someone you’re seeing for the second time in your life, and yeah you might think I could want revenge for my nearly damaged health, but I don’t. And if you don’t want the whiskey...” he reaches to take it back but I quickly put it up to my lips and take a long sip, causing him to smile. “There you go!”

Oh boy does the taste of whiskey hit different after sipping on champagne for hours. I nod to him in gratitude. “Thanks, I strongly appreciate this.”

He nods back, his smile now a smaller one but still preserving the same amount of joy as when it was a full-blown grin, “I’m Caleb, by the way.”

“Y/N, nice to meet you.“ I reply, feeling the tension in my shoulders easing and the embarrassed blush fading. This guy just has such a chill aura, it’s nice being in his company. Hell, I’ll even go as far as to say if I simply had to almost hit someone with my car today, I’m glad it was him.

As more and more people emerge from their seats, heading hand in hand to the dancefloor to join the newlyweds, I finish my whiskey and am contemplating on going to get myself another but before I can decide, Caleb arises from his seat as well. He takes a stand in front of me, offering me his hand, “Well, there’s very little damage you can do you me out on the dancefloor, right?” He chuckles when he sees he’s made me blush again - third time today, damn it - but then he assumes a more serious facial expression, his smile never faltering though, “Care to accompany me for a dance, Y/N?”

I pretend to think the offer over, weighing my options and its pros and cons when in reality I dam near accepted the same second he asked. “Hmm, ok...“ I say finally, resting my hand in his, “That is, if you promise not to step on my feet. These are some expensive shoes I’m wearing.“

He lets out a genuine laugh as he leads us to the dancefloor, one that I’ll admit is hella contagious, “Says the person who almost ran my ass over earlier. Am I not expensive, huh?”

I give him a confused look, hiding fits of laughter, “I don’t know, Caleb. Are you?”

He shakes his head, “Nah, best offer you’d get for me on Craigslist is like, a dollar? Two if you’re lucky.”

And that’s all it takes to break the dam holding back my laughter, sending me in fits of giggles as we start dancing. My laughter ends just as quickly as it starts though when I realize how in-sync our dancing is. Perfectly synchronized.

Huh, wonder why, that annoying voice pokes at my peace again. But I don’t let it get to me. Not now at least. I’m just gonna enjoy this moment, dancing with a practical stranger, gazing into his warm and welcoming eyes.

Suddenly I need another hand to count the good things about this wedding since I have to add three new points: 6. Almost hitting Caleb with my car; 7. Officially meeting Caleb; 8. Dancing with him.

Dancing with him in perfect sync

Oh, shut it, I don’t wanna start blushing again.

98 notes · View notes

barzzal · 3 years

Text

when the ball drops

summary: out of all the times you wanted to bail, for once you were certainly glad you didn’t ditch this year’s new year’s eve party.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: language, parties, drinking, flirty banters + a smitten mat (set in a pandemic free au)

↳ genre: fluff, meeting a total stranger, early 2000’s romantic/comedy typa thing (what i think at least)

↳ length: imagine; 5.9k

↳ masterlist: the barn

note: this is an entry for @hockeynetwork’s winter fic exchange and i was matched as @bqstqnbruin’s secret santa! i genuinely hope you get to enjoy this, boo!! i wanna thank a few mutuals, @tkachukme @calgarycanuck @pizzarandomness (esp @thirteenisles !!) for helping me out so i could get thru with writing this imagine! you guys are so nice i truly appreciate all of you. happy holidays & happy new year, everyone! 💕 (gif used: mine)

Every year you swear to yourself that you would spend the New Year’s at home, eating a peaceful dinner by yourself and maybe enjoy a good bottle of wine whilst you spend the whole night watching The Holiday. But just like all the other years you have spent alone since you’ve moved to New York, you end up breaking that same promise, pretty much with the help of your two best friends Emma and Katie.

Now, instead of being curled up in your living room, wearing your favourite knitted sweater and away from all the New Year chaos happening all at once in the very best place to celebrate such a festive occasion, here you are, getting your second glass of vodka tonic as you wait for the goddamn ball to drop.

The local bar has always been crowded especially during this time of the year. You and your friends already made it an annual thing which is probably the reason why despite the yearning you have for the idea of spending it all alone, you couldn’t find enough courage to ditch them and disappear even just for one night.

“Where are the girls?” Gavin, the owner of the bar whom you’ve already befriended due to the amount of times you and the girls spent helping him close up was busily wiping the counter when you sat in your usual seat.

You casually motioned your hand to where you left Emma and Katie, dancing with men they’d most certainly end up kissing once the clock strikes twelve.

“Alone again? You’ve got to blow off some steam, y/n.” He greets you with a concerned look exuding from his virile exterior. You idly shake your head, giving him a tight smile to reassure him that you were doing okay.

“It’s not that big a deal.” is the usual thing you say to people when your being ‘alone’ on the holidays becomes in question. “Besides, I’m a big girl, Gavs.” You proudly announce, leaning against the bar with your palm resting underneath your chin.

“I know you’re a ‘big girl’.” He rolls his eyes before his gaze trails off to your friends and then landing onto a couple of young lads from across the room. “I’m just saying, loosen up. Meet people. It feels nice to have someone holding you close at night so don’t be too hard on yourself.”

A snort bursts from you as soon as you hear the words leave Gavin’s mouth. Who would have known a guy as tough-looking as him would be too much of a softy underneath?

“What?” He holds his guard as he continues making your drink. The liquid swirling around a few ice cubes and a shot of liquor.

“Nothing, nothing. I just– I didn’t think you were one of those people.” You say, clearing your voice once you’ve finally gathered yourself. “You know, the sappy romantics.”

Gavin looks at you, giving you an ‘Oh, please.’ look. “No, ‘cause that’s where you’re wrong.” He protests. “I’ve always been this soft, “sappy romantic” kinda guy. You just choose to see me the way you see me; a typical macho man who hands you good drinks.” He pauses, finishing off with the last touches of your drink. “But you know what? That’s fine. ‘Cause that’s how I know you’re just like me.” He then slides the cold drink towards you.

“What do you mean?” You were intrigued to be fair. You already had your head tilted to the side trying to piece something that could justify what he just said.

“That.” He looks at you, index finger circling before your eyes to make his argument even more compelling. “You act like a strong independent woman, which by the way you still are,– but you have to admit that you do want someone who’s gonna want to spend his New Year’s watching that dumb old movie of yours.” He says with a grin before he pours another customer a shot of tequila.

You were sure you wanted to just shrug it off, but somehow, you can’t help but think of how his words hit you in the subtlest way. Each word bearing an insane amount of possibilities of him being right all along.

But what’d he know anyway? It’s not like he knew you better than anyone else. Maybe it’s just his way with words. Or maybe he’s just that good. After all, that’s basically the reason why he’s running a goddamn bar, right?

𖥸

It wasn’t Mat’s first time spending New Year’s away from his family but if he only had a choice, he’d certainly take the next plane with no question. However, given how the team’s fight for the Cup is going stronger than the last season, he couldn’t bring himself to risk going away and missing out on his usual routines. So, for the past couple of weeks he’d let himself be stuck with Beauvillier throughout the holidays.

Now, for the sake of festivities, the two decided it’d be best to come out to the city and have fun welcoming the New Year along with some good friends that were surprisingly available at the last minute. That being said, the local bar was already the third one they’ve gone to having started the drinking binge earlier than intended.

“Happy New Fucking Year, Motherfuckers!” The loudest and perhaps, the drunkest man cheered at the center of the dance floor, holding up his drink carelessly as he danced to the mind numbing EDM coming off from the DJ’s booth.

“Way to get wasted. Am I right?” Dan says as he stands to gather everyone and clink their beer mugs for the nth time.

“Somebody’s definitely gonna miss the ball drop.” Tito snides, referring to the drunken man cheering tirelessly. Mat shakes his head and idly laughs. Their glasses meet halfway, causing some of the beer to spill over the table. The loud music and cheers echoed in Mathew’s ears, finding the whole scene a little too overwhelming despite how he liked to loosen up with bottomless drinks coming his way.

Somehow, he was thankful that he needed a second to breathe which only meant having to take his eyes off of the same guys he hangs with on and off the ice. Because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to see someone so beautiful yet seemingly out of place when his gaze landed onto that one girl sitting by the bar all by herself at what seems to be the loudest pub in the city.

“God, she’s pretty.” The words unknowingly slip off his tongue, making him realize he’s announced his thoughts out for the group just enough to make their brows quirk at the now out-of-reach Mathew.

“What?” Anthony leans closer to him so as to give himself a view of what Mat had his eyes peeled for.

“That girl by the bar, she’s— she’s really pretty.” Mathew says, completely sure that he has never said anything true in his life. Much to his surprise, the boys gathered around and turned their heads towards the girl sitting by the bar.

“So? Go and talk to her, man.” Anthony casually proposes with a nudge, urging him to go after her.

Mathew immediately lets out a foolish scoff and chooses to gulp a large amount of liquor from his mug.

“Yeah, just go for it. What’s the worst thing that could happen?” Tyson chides, looking at the girl who has utterly made their night a little more interesting. That being said, being stuck with the three biggest blokes wasn’t that too interesting to begin with.

“Oh, worst thing? She could hear me!” Mat runs a hand through his hair, incapable of taking his eyes off of her even just for a second.

“You know if you don’t, I will.” Tyson puts his beer down and acts as if to make the move Mathew was too hesitant to do himself in order to boost his mate.

“Fuck off. Fine. Hold my beer.” Mat rolls his eyes and shoves Tyson his mug before gathering himself by straightening creases off his suit along with a few sharp breaths to ease out the nervousness he’d been feeling.

You watch the teeny tiny leaf of mint swirl around the whirl of liquor you’ve successfully made, ignoring all the background noise, still evidently fixated on the words Gavin has left you with earlier. Has it really been that long since you allowed yourself to be fully vulnerable around someone?

A sad smile escapes your lips, one that made the man that was now towering all over you wonder what could have possibly caused such melancholy on the most beautiful girl he has seen all throughout the city. That’s a rather heavy way to put it but that doesn't mean he was lying. He did find you really pretty. Maybe even a little too much and too out of his league.

A tap on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts.

“Hi.” He says, gray eyes illuminated by the strobe lights hitting your direction. You give him a tight smile, acknowledging his presence and frankly even the boldness he had to strike up a conversation.

“I just wanted to ask if what you’re drinking is any good.” Mat subconsciously reprimands himself for coming up with what is yet to be the lamest thing he’s ever told a girl.

Great. Now, you’re asking her if a vodka tonic is good? As if it could get any better? He thinks to himself. So, to compensate and reduce further damage, he plays it off by laughing quite sheepishly as he absent-mindedly massages his nape.

Noticing what the man was doing, you let out a shy laugh too, biting your lower lip as you find his foolish attempt of hitting on you quite adorable.

“Wow. You’re really good at this.” You tease, now giving away a playful smile, poking at his middle school pick up line.

Mathew chuckles. His doe eyes shy and alienated by the confidence he certainly knew he had not until a few seconds ago when he met yours. “I swear I’m better than this.” He tries again, this time earning himself a soft giggle from you.

Atta boy, Mat.

“I’m Mat by the way. Mathew Barzal.”

He reaches out his hand which you gladly took. It was calloused and rough around the edges whilst Mat found yours completely fitting in his. Your eyes meet halfway as you both shook each other’s hands. Fingers lingering quite longer than it should be.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“So, you’re telling me you haven’t had a tonic before?” You ask him, hands now all to yourselves. Mat leans against the bar, his elbow resting on the counter, unable to suppress the embarrassment now dawning on him upon remembering his little set back.

“I’m sort of a vodka tonic connoisseur.” He kids in an attempt to redeem himself. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad.”

You look at him, shaking your head at how unbelievably gorgeous this man is. “Fine. It wasn’t. I’ll give you that.”

“So,” He takes a deep breath before taking one of the empty seats beside you. “I– I can’t help but wonder, I mean– if it’s not too forward of me, how come you’re drinking alone on New Year’s?”

You take a sip off of your drink and faintly shake your head, dismissing his query. “Hmm. Actually, no.”

Mathew muttered an “oh.” at the thought of hearing what he thinks you’re about to say next. To his surprise, and frankly feeling as if a weight had been lifted off his chest, you motion towards your best girls, Emma and Katie who were now obviously way too fond of the guys they just met.

“See those girls?”

Mathew nods, the answer to his question now becoming much clearer and put together. An answer that absolutely went along with his cards well.

“Those are two of the most important persons in my life going at it at a New Year’s Eve Party.”

“Would it be wrong to ask why aren’t you ‘going at it’ like how they’re doing it now?”

Is he always this formal? You think, lips curving to a grin.

“What?” He asks when he sees the expression (he can’t quite put a finger on) on your face.

“Nah. I’m all good. I mean, not that I don’t want to. I just–” You pause. Unsure of whether telling him the truth would do your case any better. What’s there to lose anyway? He’s just some guy you’re bound to meet at the bar. It’s not like you didn’t anticipate a scenario like this from happening, right?

“Just take me as someone who isn’t really fond of big parties,” he then cuts you off and finishes your sentence, “But still go anyways.”

“Exactly.”

Gavin pops in for a bit, handing Mathew a bottle of beer he was certain of not ordering. He looks at him puzzled. A silent question that Gavin answered with a wink before getting back to tending to his alcohol induced customers.

Apparently, it’s on the house.

“How come you’re here chatting with me when your friends are all the way there?” You motion towards a curly haired man and the other boys across the room. One was even smiling at you but you just opted on giving him a nod before turning your head back towards Mathew.

“Well, I didn’t like the idea of having you celebrate the New Year’s alone.” He honestly says. But since you were the kind of person who wasn’t the best at taking any type of compliment nor flirty exchanges like a normal person would, you roll your eyes and be the blunt person you were always known for. “Oh. I thought you saw a girl sitting alone at the bar and saw that as an opening.”

To be fair, Mat wasn’t really intimidated by your remark. In fact, he actually liked how straight forward you were with him. You didn’t look at him the way he’s gotten used to whenever he comes up and introduces himself to other girls; something that only made him more interested in you. He can’t help but want to know what exactly is going on in your mind. Not the creepy kind, of course. Just the one where he’d rather spend the New Year’s getting to know a total stranger than getting insanely pissed with the same men he’s spent most of his days with.

“That too.” He admits, taking a sip off his beer without breaking his eyes off you.

There was a sheer silence for a moment. The kind that Mat knew was much deafening than the booming sound of the usual dreadful New Year’s Eve Party. “So tell me,” Mat regains himself, catching your attention once again. “What would you rather be doing tonight? You know, if you hadn’t had to come out here.”

He watches your lips quirk thinking about what it was that you actually wanted to do tonight. Then again, you only had one thing in mind.

“I kinda wanted to spend it alone for the past three years.”

“That long? How come?”

“Well, you know, for some peace and quiet. Maybe watch a movie or two.”

Like what he has been doing since the moment he’d gone to talk to you, he watches you run your fingers around the rim of your cold drink. Evidently immersed in your own thoughts from trying to piece out the real reason behind your grave wanting to spend the occasion alone.

Turning the tables, you ask the same question back, “What about you? I mean, other than getting shit faced, what would you rather be doing?”

Mathew takes a deep breath trying to suppress the longing he’s felt for the past few weeks. He just misses his family so much that he couldn’t help but wonder how they’re doing even if he’s constantly kept in touch with them hours before he’d gone out with the boys.

“I’ll be with my folks. You know, all that usual family stuff.” He answers you shortly.

You didn’t think much of what he’s told you so you just tell him the very thing that crossed your mind. “You know, it’s amazing how two people who didn’t even want to be here find each other just so they could bitch about not wanting to be here a little bit more.”

The two of you share a good laugh, utterly and undeniably enjoying each other’s company. It didn’t feel weird having to talk to a total stranger, let alone let them have bits and pieces of yourself that only enables them to put together an image of you that isn’t even as close to who you really are. Regardless of that notion, there was something about how Mathew connected with you, and how you connected with him.

It was far from being the movie type of thing, but you have to admit, the remainder of the time you two have spent talking over a half empty bottle of beer and a glass of vodka tonic has definitely made the two of you feel this unexplainable wanting of having to learn more about each other. That being said, when all drinks were drunk till its last drop, Mathew couldn’t help himself from wanting to spend a bit more time with you. Maybe, even the whole night if you’d only let him.

“D’you want to get out of here?” He shoots his shot as quickly as he could, afraid that losing even just a second would mean losing a night of spontaneity with you.

You have long waited for a reason to miss the annual party. And if that meant having to wait three years just so you could stumble upon a tall and fairly handsome man that was going to save you from a dreadful evening, nothing would’ve felt as right as this if it weren’t for the push Mat had stored in his piercing eyes and mischievous grin.

You didn’t have to give it much thought. After spending a whole hour exchanging little trivias of yourselves, Mat finally had it easy in making a riveting case. You sigh in defeat as you fish out a few cash from your purse and slide it into your tab.

Excitement now exuding from Mathew, he bobs his brows up and down whilst he watches you roll your eyes once again for the hundredth time tonight. “I’m gonna hate you for this.” You tell him as you get off the bar stool.

Mat hurriedly signals Tito for his coat to which he was able to catch the moment he had tossed it towards his way. He then gets yours that was placed on the back of your seat before finally following you out towards the door.

“I highly doubt that.”

𖥸

Mathew draped your coat over your shoulders, helping you to slip into it. You politely say your thanks and hold your purse close, your gloves gripping onto the leather as the two of you stroll the streets of New York, the winter breeze brushing on your cheeks with every stride you make.

“So,” You begin, putting both of your hands inside your coat pockets. “Where are you taking me, Mat?”

He tries to think for a second. The thought of not having a concrete plan for the night finally dawns on him. He clicks his tongue and breathes in the familiar scent of the city. Mathew looks around the block and spots the good old food truck he and the boys once tried when they were out for an away game with the Rangers.

“How about New York’s finest burrito?” He points to where the truck was parked, clueless to how his sudden movement placed him inches closer to you. You didn’t notice it until you looked at him for his eyes were still pinned to where the truck was at.

Mat’s eyes were pretty. That’s a known fact. But what you didn’t realize was how astonishing they are not until you got this close. You took in the sight sitting before you as fast as you could while he was still preoccupied like a five-year-old kid seeing an ice-cream truck pass by the neighborhood. Your eyes linger from his well structured brows, his unbelievably long lashes, down to the tip of his nose and his rosy cheeks before finally settling down to his cherry plump lips. All of which were more than enough to send butterflies in your stomach.

“O-Okay.” You agree. Mathew takes you by the hand before you can even say a word. Thank the gods for letting you live in a city that seems to never stop the hustle to still have open food trucks good for a quick bite at this time of the night close into New Year’s.

“Hey, bud. Two sixes to go, please.” Mathew says politely once he knocks on the window.

“You’ve got to try this, I swear.” He looks back at you with the same warm smile beaming on his face.

“Unless you want a proper meal? I mean, there’s a diner down the–” You immediately cut him off and take out your purse, offering to pay for it instead. “No! It’s fine, really. I’m a bit hungry myself.”

After spending the whole time waiting for the wrapped snack, arguing on who would be paying, you let Mathew have this one for now even if you didn’t like others paying for what you can pay yourself.

You take a good look at your watch and see that you only have about an hour left till midnight. An idea pops in your head, making you gasp at the thought. Mathew looks at you with a half-eaten burrito in his hand, his brows all furrowed as if to ask a piece of your mind.

“Come on, I know where we should go.”

𖥸

Mathew never thought he’d found himself standing on a rooftop of a random building overlooking the Empire State during one of the coldest times in the city. The things that has only kept him sane was the girl who was still holding his hand, the city lights that have always left him in awe, and of course, the well heated rooftop.

There have been a few exchanges that are quite notable over the time you’ve spent with Mathew. He’s told you about the usual night outs he and the boys have for leisure, the family he had back in Coquitlam, how much he misses his mom and his sister, and how much love he has for hockey that he ended up doing the thing he loved most for a career.

Him, on the one hand, pretty much learned the same stuff about you. Well, almost, for he has yet to ask you the one thing that has been bugging him off all night.

You were telling him how this was your safe haven in the city and how much you loved going here every time you felt like needing to take a deep breath and step back from the world when he asked you a simple question. One that’s absolutely left you surprised (and a little bit impressed) that he still even remembered it at this point.

“What’s the movie about? You know, the one you’ve been wanting to see tonight.” He asks, both of his hands inside his pockets to keep warm.

The two of you sat on the bench facing thousands of lights illuminating the whole city. You look at him for a second, biting your lip as you contest with yourself, the thought of Mat being the kind of douché that would shit around women and their romantic comedy films comes rushing to you like a cold December breeze.

“Alright, why do you want to know?” You pass the ball back to his court. To which Mat shortly answers with a level-headed sigh. “I kinda get the feeling it has something to do with the three-year thing.”

“You’re nosy.” You kiddingly say, earning a chuckle from him.

“You’ve spent the whole night walking with me and I can barely even feel my legs anymore, y/n. Trust me, between you and me, you know you’re the nosy one.” The two of you share a small laugh, your voices are the only sound that can be heard besides the sleepless city acting as a white noise to you and Mathew’s little bubble.

“Fine. And you’re a fucking athlete, so don’t even start.”

You playfully give him a nudge on the shoulder when he starts mimicking what you say. Mat stops immediately and looks at you with the same doe eyes glinting under the security lights that the rooftop had. He then patiently waits for you to gather your thoughts, breathing in all of New York as he lets himself drown in your presence.

You didn’t know how but there was this unspeakable comfort you feel around Mat. Sure, he was just a total stranger you’ve met a few hours ago, but no one, not even the guy who dumped you after your five-date rule, was able to connect with you at the same level as Mathew did.

“It’s not that I want to see it so bad. I’ve watched it for like– a reasonable amount before it became my comfort movie. Plus, it’s literally called The Holiday. Why wouldn’t you want to see it during the holiday?”

You tell him a bit more of how you’ve come into liking it, stalling him from the real reason why you wanted to celebrate the New Year’s alone. But you know, that even after all the circles you’re willing to go through just to keep Mat at bay, you’re bound to lose all your strings and resort to telling him in the end. You just hope you wouldn’t be making the same mistake you’ve made three years ago.

You told Mathew about your on and off childhood sweetheart Claude who has always kept you high and dry throughout the years of being together. (That is if you were in fact together.) He was the constant reminder that you will never be the kind of person someone would want to stick around with.

You and him go a long way. You both ended up going to the same university because he just had to have you around and that he couldn’t afford not being with you even just for a second. He said that he couldn’t take the thought of having to see you only on the holidays so as the dumb kid you once were, your feet followed his everywhere he’d gone.

That cycle went on and on until you finally had the courage to leave everything behind and move to New York. Months as a new kid in the city, you were scared, of course. You spent your days hanging around your apartment, doing all sorts of crap you can even think of just so you wouldn’t have to leave your flat. Although, meeting Emma and Katie was the biggest push you needed to finally let yourself let loose. Long story short, at the first New Year’s Eve Party you’ve ever gone to after moving in the city, the person you least expected to see was the very first one to come out of Gavin's bar. Claude.

Just like what a normal person would do, the two of you sat down and caught up. Pretty much the same thing you’ve gone with Mathew. Although only a lot less chit chat and a lot more kissing.

Claude told you his real intentions. He said that he wanted to start something with you for real. Of course, you had let him but you have made the biggest mistake of telling him about your five-date rule.

Lo and behold, Claude did stick around for the fifth date. That being said, he had stayed only for the fifth date. You saw him sneaking out of your flat so early in the morning, leaving you nothing but a voicemail that said his foolish reasons and insincere apologies. Since then, after a lot of major hook ups here and there, you’ve never let yourself become as vulnerable and stupid as you once were with the biggest douche you’ve ever met.

“It’s crazy, I know. You can laugh about it.” You say when Mat hasn’t spoken for a few seconds.

He takes a glance at you, a tight smile on his face. “I don’t think it’s crazy. That man is crazy. And also, a big prick. Classic dick move.” He tells you before he turns his eyes back to the city.

“Well, yeah. That’s me. That’s the holiday story.”

“A crappy one, of course.” You add.

Mat shakes his head no. He didn’t know why exactly but all he wanted to do at that moment, a few seconds before New Year’s, was to give you something,– even just a memory you could look back on. That that story isn’t going to be the one you’d be remembering for the next holidays. He wanted his to be something that’ll make your three-year-old crappy story long gone and forgotten. That his version would be the one that’s stuck.

“Definitely not this one.”

As the clock strikes twelve, cheers erupted throughout New York along with fireworks shooting into the city’s midnight sky. The first thing you see upon looking back were the same kind eyes of the man whom you have randomly met at the party you dreaded most. Only this time, drowning you little by little as it becomes iridescent under the thousands of lights covering New York City.

You were frozen to your seat as Mat’s face inch closer to yours. You feel his breath against your cold skin as if it was lulling you to sleep. His hands find its way to your face, cupping both of your cheeks rather gently as he finally paints a new memory you’d be carrying for the rest of your holidays.

“Happy New Year.” He greets you, almost like a faint whisper whilst the two of you gasp for breath. You blink a few times just to process what had just happened and digest how unbelievably good that kiss was.

Mathew’s hands were still on your cheeks. You held them close so he’d know you weren’t ready to let go. You take a deep breath, gathering enough courage to ask him an unusual way of greeting someone a Happy New Year.

“Will you walk me to my car?”

𖥸

You have both of your hands tucked inside your coat pockets as you walked the street leading to where you left your car. Mat was just telling you about the game happening next Thursday against the Bruins and how it would mean a lot to him if you’d come and see him play.

“To be fair, the Bruins are good.” You commented, a playful smirk plastered on your face rather teasingly.

Mathew lets out a snort as he rolls his eyes, chuckling at the thought of you dissing on his team the moment you had the chance. “Hey, both teams are good.”

“It’s just the matter of who’s better.” You finish his sentence, yet again working your way with a clever remark. Mat hums, not necessarily agreeing with your sentiment.

“So will you come?” He asks again just so he could hear you say yes. You take a deep breath, not letting yourself think too much of the said invitation. If you’re going, you’re going as a friend. Actually, you weren’t even sure if you could even call yourself such a label.

You nod your head yes to which had become the reason of Mathew’s glee. The two of you walked side by side in peace, basking in the comfort of each other’s presence.

Once the rush of excitement about you coming to one of his games starts to wear down, Mathew begins to feel the weight of walking befall on him as it grows quicker with each step he takes. With his brows meeting halfway, he looks at you, eyes evident with confusion.

“Where did you park your car exactly? I feel like we’re walking straight to Long Island.” He chortles, scratching his temple quite adorably.

You bit your lower lip as you looked up at him. Mathew’s physique towering over yours. “I uh– I took a cab to the party. My car’s actually parked outside my apartment.” You admit with a shy laugh.

Mat’s mouth went agape upon hearing you confess; awkward silence envelops the two of you with every second spent not talking to one another. Not long after, he decides to break the ice, undeniably impressed at how he’d never seen it coming.

Clever. He thinks, incapable of stopping his gut from swirling. His smile widens when he sees you looking at him; unfazed and perhaps, enamoured.

𖥸

Mat did walk you to your car. The two of you exchange your thank you’s; utterly grateful for what has to be the best New Year’s you had in years.

You wanted to ask him for one last cup of coffee because the last thing you wanted him to do was leave. But after all the things you’ve gone through with the man within such a short amount of time (and frankly, even a tedious walk) you still failed to muster enough courage to stop him from doing so.

Once you see him get in the lone cab that miraculously passed by your neighborhood at such an ungodly hour, you close the door behind and head straight to your flat.

You get home to the sight of your weighted blanket spread over your couch along with a couple of pillows that seems to be the best place to bury yourself in after a tiresome night out. Things were just as they were left hours ago; prepped for a much awaited movie night. As planned, you quickly get out of your winter clothes, head for a quick shower, before finally slipping into some comfortable nightwear.

You were just finishing up putting the bowl of popcorn and a bottle of Chardonnay on top of the coffee table when a buzz coming from the intercom catches your attention.

Once your hands were free, you quickly made your way towards the box, a bit irked at the thought of Katie and Emma ruining your long-overdue New Year agenda upon remembering how she’d told you to let her in the building just in case Katie gets a little too overboard.

“Emma, I’m about to watch Jude Fucking Law. Just come up!” You hurriedly say, turning your head back to the screen which already had the movie on pause.

However, instead of Katie’s whiny and drunken voice, what you heard was the same familiar chuckle that had been cruising your mind all night.

“You know, I don’t think I mentioned that I haven’t watched The Holiday. Is Jude Fucking Law any good?” He asks. A mental image of how his eyes crinkle when he laughs comes to mind upon hearing his voice.

Once again, pretty much like how you’ve spent the whole evening with Mathew, a wide smile lets loose as you press the black button. “Come on up.”

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #letters to barzy #barzzal imagines

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mymelodyheart · 3 years

Text

Miles Between Us Chapter 14 ~The Element of Surprise ~

WARNING: VERY EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT

Previously in The Reunion

They fitted perfectly, her softness cradling his boneless heap, making him hard as steel again. Some part of his brain must have still been functioning because he jerked and reached out for her bra to cover her when his doorbell rang. Christ! Forcing his body to move with marginal success, he yanked her up and pulled up his jeans.

Claire slid off the table and grabbed her clothes. "Who could that be?"

"That better not be yer uncle or ..." Jamie trailed off, muttering curses under his breath, annoyed at the disturbance as he was just revving up for part two of their lovemaking. When he opened the door, a sense of deja vu hit him when he saw Mrs Fitz standing there with what seemed like a plate of a lemon meringue pie. What the fuck?

"Mrs Fitz!"

The older woman didn't bother to hide her curiosity this time as her eyes tried to peer past his shoulders. "Heard ye have company, lad, and I havenae seen Miss Claire the last couple of days."

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Six Days Later

Claire's heavy eyelids fluttered open, her brain still addled by sleep. It took her a while to gather her thoughts and remember how she'd made it to bed last night. She shifted slightly in bed, but there's a two-hundred-fifty pound of hard-muscled, naked male restricting her movement. Jamie's arm was draped across her waist, securing her against his chest, her legs confined under his heavier ones. She could feel his soft, steady breathing blowing warm air on top of her head, reminding her how well he'd been sleeping the last few nights. There had been no night terrors or unpleasant dreams interrupting his sleep, and she put it down to his workload during the day and their physical activities between the sheets at night.

Today was Friday, and the realisation caused a huge smile to spread across her face. Last night she'd worked late until past ten, and Jamie had found her fallen asleep in front of her laptop in her studio shed. He'd scooped her up in his arms and helped her get ready for bed, and just before sleep claimed her, he'd whispered he had a surprise for her today.

She wondered what the surprise was and guess it would probably be a long lie-in for them and breakfast in bed. Looking back, the past few days had flown by in a blur, packed with work and catching up with her uncle Lamb during nights. Ever since her emotional reunion with Jamie, her work-related things had gone from a shamble of mess to running smoothly. It's as if the universe had decided to grant her reprieve as everyone went out their way to appease her. Even her boss John seemed to have given her space and was allowing her to work in peace. Somehow, deep down, she had a sneaking suspicion Jamie had something to do with it.

It had all began at the start of the week when Jamie had been at work. Tom had stopped by the cottage to hand her a signed contract agreeing to his book's publication. By the time she'd told John the good news, he'd been in his element detailing his main point plan for getting the word out and announcing the book deal to Tom's adoring followers. She'd thought her boss would demand to get her and Tom on the next plane to London, but instead, John had told her he'd arranged a team to fly to Inverness for a formal meeting with their new author. As if that wasn't enough, two days later, Mary had produced enough drafts for Claire to work on and promised there would be more on the way. Her uncle, sensing work was piling, would occasionally stop by either to whip up something to eat or bring food while she'd been ensconced in her studio shed. Not that it was unusual for her uncle to perform domesticated pursuits; however, it's still surprising that he was going the extra mile to help around the house when he had the Highlands at disposal for his adventures being an outdoor person that he was.

It's becoming clear this week was proving to be a period of many turning points. She had no idea what the future had in store for her and Jamie, but she knew something had shifted in their relationship, and it was definitely for the better. Though she's still the same girl who's still trying to find her place in the world and fit in, she knew she'd changed, too. A few months ago, she would have probably backed down from any forms of conflicts, citing life as complicated enough without adding more complications. But she'd learned how to respond, choose fights that are worth fighting for and cast aside that wasn't deserving of her peace of mind. She'd also learned that once in a while, it's good for her sanity to give propriety and rules the middle finger when a situation called for it.

It's hard to believe she's planning her life in the Highlands, the place where her parents had met and found love in each other. In her quest to get to know them more, she'd spent her holidays here to be closer to their memories and live that adventure they'd so craved. Now, she was involved with a man tormented with demons. If her parents were still alive today, she wondered how they would receive Jamie. Would they have been like Jenny or her uncle, suspicious and sceptical of their relationship? Or would they have been happy with her choice just like Willie, Brian, and Ellen have been with Jamie's?

Deep in her heart, she knew that her parents would have taken one look at them and understood that Jamie was special and meant to be her life adventure. From what Claire had surmised from uncle Lamb's stories, her parents have been that kind of people, magnanimous of spirit and always saw the best in others. Jamie was like that too. He'd taken a gamble with her despite their differences and the geographical challenges ahead. Though it seemed she was helping him with his condition, unbeknownst to Jamie, he too was helping her heal the part of her that became an orphan. In some invisible way, he was repairing something in the fabric of her world that had been torn down the middle when her parents passed away. She absorbed that thought and was reminded of what Uncle Lamb once told her, that her father always had a peculiar sense of humour. With that in mind, she'd like to think that just maybe her father had sent Jamie her way on purpose. His way of telling her to let go of the past, not over-think, embrace the Highlands as much as he had and just love.

Lying next to Jamie in bed, she felt totally at peace. They might have had a crisis of faith, but she was confident they'll find their way through whatever path was laid before them. Their love wasn't and probably never going to be easy, given their journey had been emotional, tangled with roadblocks, denials and self-preservation. Still, she wanted to find her way with him. She'd just discovered this strength she didn't realise she had, and Jamie continued to surprise her with his single-mindedness purpose to be cured. Someone once said there's no fulfilment without a bit of struggle. Just like in the stories she hoped to publish one day, the heroes had to break down first and bleed before earning their happy ending. Well, if that's the rule, she couldn't envision facing life's trials and tests with any other person to stand beside her other than Jamie.

Her smile was still in place when her thoughts were suspended by a rush of heat as Jamie's hand coasted over her hip to disappear between her thighs. A sudden thrill shot through her, making her breath catch in her lungs. He shifted the leg holding her thighs down and deftly opened her to his touch, stroking the sensitive flesh in between. She felt his shaft stir against her bottom as she scooted closer to him, eliciting a guttural sound to escape his lips.

"I can practically hear the cogs turning in yer head, Sassenach," he muttered thickly, his breathing turning shallow at the back of her neck. He nipped her earlobe between his teeth and tugged. "What's going on in that mind of yers?"

"Oh, this and that and how you've been sleeping soundly ...these last few nights." She gasped out loud when he rubbed her nub with a calloused thumb. She tilted her head back to look at his face, and her lips were met by a long-drawn, possessive kiss. By the time their mouths parted, she was panting for air and squirming against him mindlessly.

"Christ, ye're ready for me. Why did ye no' wake me up?" He thrust his finger deep inside her, fondling the spot he knew drove her wild and frantic. "Next time ye want me, wake me up."

"I-I couldn't. You were sleeping so peacefully."

He paused his ministrations. "That's no' the answer I was hoping to hear."

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! "Y-yes, next time, I'll wake you up!"

"That's my lass." He sank another finger into her entrance. But as she tried to clench around him, his fingers slid out, using her wetness to coat her nub and gently rub her aching flesh. She wanted to scream at him for teasing her, but he only softly chuckled against her neck. At that moment, she needed to come more than she needed air. She hoarsely whispered his name in a plea for release. "Ach, no' yet, Sassenach ... ye listen better when I'm touching ye." She yelped when he suddenly yanked the covers away and flipped her on her stomach, the crisp morning air caressing her heated skin. "Let me see first that beautiful arse of yers." He shoved a pillow beneath her hips, putting her in a highly arousing position, her face mushed against the mattress and her bottom in the air. "Such a beautiful bum."

"Jamie ..."

He kneaded the curves of her buttocks as he let out a frustrated male groan. "Let us talk first. This is the only time I'm pretty sure ye're no' gonnae argue with me with what I'm about to say. Ye listening?"

"Yes, yes ...get on with it, damn it!"

He laughed out loud just before his lips travelled along the path of her spine, kissing and nibbling her flesh. One hand slid around her belly and down the apex of her thighs, slipping blunt fingers into her folds as his mouth moved to her neck. He lingered there, biting hard and then soothing the sting with a lick of his tongue. Anticipation pulsated within her body, and goosebumps erupted on her skin as the weight of his erection slid against her upturned bottom, and Jamie positioned himself behind her. When he hefted her higher with his forearm, she let out a squeak. "Ye'll no' be working this weekend."

"Jamie," she whimpered. "B-but I can't."

"Oh yes, ye can." Skilled fingers stroke her sensitive nub, and with one thrust of his hips, he completely filled her, taking her by surprise. She nearly screamed, pressing her mouth against the mattress, suddenly mindful of nosey neighbours. She remembered what Jamie had told her about Mrs Fitz and muffled her moans on the covers of the bed.

"Oh, God, this is not fair," she breathed on an uneven exhale.

"I told ye last night, I have a wee surprise for ye. Ye've worked long enough this week. Ye're taking a wee break this weekend." When she didn't respond, he stilled his hips and took out his fingers from inside her. "You need a break, Sassenach. Now, for the love of God, just say yes, Jamie."

When Jamie drew out his hardness and plunged deeply back into her, heart-stopping sensations coursed through her whole body. Something about how he positioned her, the fluid, smooth drives of his movement made her mad with need. She wanted to urge him to go faster, but she clamped her mouth shut. He was deliberately torturing her and forcing her to agree with him. So she decided she was going to get her own back. Contracting her inner walls, she clenched around him. From experience, she knew the more he had to work to push into her, the wilder he would become. Just when she thought she finally got the upper hand, he paused and dropped his weight, stopping just short of squashing her. "No, no, no! Please don't stop!" she wailed.

"Oh, aye." He pushed his lower body tight to her bottom, his erection throbbing inside her. When she tried to wriggle her bum to urge him to start moving again, he firmly gripped her hips in place. "Ah, I ken what ye're up to," he whispered hotly in her ears. "I'm no' taking no for an answer. Ye owe this break to yourself."

"You don't play fair."

"Neither do ye."

Thinking she could compromise later after spending the whole morning with him, she finally conceded. "Fine. Just keep moving, for God's sake!" she hissed.

He let out a pained laugh and pressed his lips on the crook of her neck. "Good lass, ye ken it makes sense." Then cursing under his breath, he moved all the way out in one smooth slide before deliciously gliding deep back. "Christ, I can feel ye want to come, but ye're going to stay with me a little longer. Ye fell asleep on me last night, leaving me with a painful cockstand."

"Jesus, Jamie."

"Aye," he rasped hoarsely into her hair. "I said the same thing when ye wriggled that pert arse against me and fell asleep immediately."

The way his thickness was invading her from an angle almost sent her hurtling over the edge. And it gave her a new appreciation for math. The thought almost made her laughed out loud if it wasn't for the pulsing pleasure between her legs.

"Christ ...look at ye," Jamie gritted, his voice sounding raw and almost severe. "So bloody perfect."

He nudged her legs wider and changed his movements to short, strong strokes, increasing his pace with primitive energy that left her gasping for breath. With the sound of their slapping bodies, the earthy scent of arousal, the sweaty slide of skin, her belly began to tighten and coil.

"I just want to make ye happy, Sassenach," he groaned, bearing down his upper body more, his hips relentlessly pounding into hers. "So just say yes to my wee surprise, aye?"

"Yes, yes, yes." Their voices sounded so far away, and her initial hesitation about taking a break from work almost forgotten. Not entirely, though. She tried to grasp that mental note about emails to be sent, but the hand gripping her hips moved, and fingers slid to rub her nub, stroking and pushing her further towards her peak. She gave in and widened her thighs to let him fill her more. But it left her no time to prepare for the release that shattered her apart, her love for him and the physical pleasure fusing to intensify the sensations blasting through her. It threatened to overwhelm her, but Jamie's presence anchored her as he followed her over, groaning her name, gripping her hips with a fierceness as he claimed her for his.

Moments later, he pulled her boneless body in his arms and tucked her into his chest, tugging the covers over them and curving his front to her back. He held her tightly as the morning light streamed through the windows.

Battling to keep her eyes open, thoughts of work slithered in, but it kept flittering away with her consciousness before she could dwell on it. Maybe just for a minute, she thought. But Jamie smelled so good, and his tender strokes enticed a hazy sleep to claim her muscles, dragging her down into the dark. Just one minute.

As she eased into sleep, his whisper drifted toward her unconscious. "It's still early, Sassenach. Sleep a wee bit more. Your wee surprise will come soon enough."

..........

Claire woke for the second time that morning with an unladylike shriek when the mattress dipped and moved. Muddled, she jackknifed into a sitting position, eyes scanning wildly around the curtain-dimmed room for a trespasser. Claire knew someone was there, her gut instinct telling her it wasn't Jamie. Summoning her eyes to refocus, she collapsed with relief when she realised who it was sat at the foot of the bed.

"Surprise!" Annalise squealed, clapping her hands.

"Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!" She swiped her bedraggled hair out of her face. "You scared me bloody witless."

"Bloody hell, you're jumpy." Annalise shifted a hip on the bed. "Jamie's bad dreams rubbing off on you now, are they?"

"That's not something to joke about," she glowered at her friend, pulling the covers up to her chin.

Annalise' smile waned a bit. "Hey, what's up? I'm not making fun of Jamie's nightmares, and you know that." Her shoulders slumped. "In case you don't know, bad dreams can happen to anyone. In fact, I had a bad dream a few days ago. I was being chased by a pirate."

Suddenly feeling bad for snapping at her friend, she mentally dispersed the sleep fog in her brain and gave Annalise an apologetic smile. So this was her surprise, she thought. Not that Claire wasn't happy to see her friend, but she'd expected Jamie's surprise to be a romantic weekend with him. She let out a sigh. "Chased by a pirate, huh? Let me guess ...sunken chest and no booty?"

Annalise perked up at Claire's feeble attempt to sound less grumpy. "Har de har har! I didn't realise you could be funny before coffee. A total package for a marauding pirate if I may say so."

"Tell that to Captain Beard," she mumbled, getting out of bed.

"Aye, matey!" Annalise mischievously winked. "That's if he happens to be in Isle of Harris this weekend. Which is where, by the way, we're going, as in, now! So get packing!"

Claire stilled and shook her head. "Wot?" She began to shake her head, tugging the covers around her as she made her way to the dresser. "Oh no, no, no! I'm not leaving this place for any man or woman, including you, blondie! I've got a pile of work to do. You know I have deadlines."

"Oh no, you don't. You stop right there, missy! Have you forgotten you agreed with Jamie to take a weekend break?"

Claire's eyes widened. "Oh, did he also tell you how he got me to agree?"

"No. But you can tell me later on the plane."

"Plane?" Claire dropped her face in her hands. "Oh, God, I can't believe I agreed to this. Jamie never told me anything."

Annalise stood up from where she was sitting and crossed her arms across her chest. "Hmmm, you don't look too happy to be spending time with me."

She puffed out a breath. "It's not that ..."

"We haven't had girly time in ages, Claire. Jamie thought it would do you a world of good to have a bit of fun."

"So now what? You and Jamie plotting and ganging up on me behind my back, is that it?" Claire accused. "What about Willie? Surely, you miss him more than me. When was the last time you saw him?"

Annalise grinned. "Don't worry about Willie. We have been doing a lot of catching up all night last night, and you want to know what he did?"

Claire's face crumpled in disgust as she held up a hand. "Oh, gross! Too much information. I don't want to hear about your sex life."

Annalise laughed out loud. "Fine, I won't discuss our sex life if you start packing now. Besides, you wouldn't want to waste the tickets Jamie worked so hard for, now, do you?"

Oh dear Lord, save me from well-meaning friends! She didn't really want to leave, but if Jamie had spent money organising this trip, she wasn't about to let it go to waste. But ... "How about uncle Lamb? He came to see me, and I can't just leave him."

"He knows all about the trip, and I've been told he's got a few excursions planned around the Highlands."

"Oh, well ...if that's the case, I need to call Mary and John and let them know what I'm up to this weekend."

Annalise grinned. "Jamie's sorted it already."

"Wot?" she exclaimed with disbelief, her hands landing onto her hips. "Jamie's been planning this with you all along, hasn't he?" She shook her head. "I-I can't believe it!"

"You better believe it."

Claire blew out a breath of exasperation. "Fine! Grab my suitcase. It's in the airing cupboard."

"Yay!" Annalise whirled on her feet and pumped her fist in the air. Claire couldn't help but smile as enthusiasm began to wiggle its way through her system. Maybe Jamie was right. She owed it to herself to have a break, and probably a change of scenery was what she needed. After Mary had delivered the goods, Claire had worked herself to the bone all week and sometimes into the wee hours of the morning. She was already in her second round of edits on the extensive manuscripts Mary had submitted and must admit they were indeed making progress. As for Tom, her job with him was done, and the team organised by John should be arriving next week. It was definitely time for a bit of fun.

On second thoughts, though it was generous of Jamie to arrange the trip, it would have been nice if he could come along too. But the idea of Jamie's condition worsening with something as simple as weekend trips away brought a feeling of melancholy to descend upon her. She had no doubt Jamie would be cured, and they'd be able to travel together one day, so she forced herself to shake off the momentary bout of wistfulness when Annalise came bounding back with her small suitcase.

"So ...you talked to Jamie. Where is he, by the way?" she asked, grabbing clothes from the dresser and throwing them in the bed. "He left early this morning."

"Oh! Jamie said he needed to be somewhere important, and he'll see you when we return. Willie will be driving us to the airport." When Claire frowned, Annalise came up behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, we'll only be away for two days, and you'll see him again Sunday night."

It was apparent to Claire she'd been at a disadvantage waking up to the news of the weekend trip because if Jamie had suggested it a few days ago, she would have definitely put her foot down and refused. Unfortunately, Annalise and Jamie knew her too well; hence they'd planned this trip in secrecy.

Claire absorbed that for a few heartbeats and felt a tad of guilt. It had been a while she'd spent time with Annalise, and once her job was done in London, she'd be living with Jamie. Plus, who knew when she'd have another chance to hang out with her best friend ...just the two of them and in the Isle of Harris at that. Besides, they always had a great time together. There was no sense in spoiling their spontaneous weekend with her stubbornness. She might as well make the most of it.

Claire turned to face her friend and smiled. "Do I have time to shower?"

"Plenty of time," Annalise beamed. "While you get ready, I'll make some coffee. I know what you're like without your cuppa first thing." And with that, she danced out of the room, whistling, leaving Claire to shake her head in amusement.

Later that morning, as they drove past the motorway exit for the airport, Claire shifted restlessly in the backseat of Willie's car, watching the familiar structure pass by in a blur outside her window. She frowned. Willie must have forgotten to take the turn. Uh oh! But before she could say anything, Willie veered to a different dual-carriageway. She tried to relax back into her seat, thinking there was probably a different route to the airport she didn't know of.

Eventually, they pulled to a stop in front of a building that didn't resemble a terminal, but there was an airfield and a charter plane coming out of the hangar. When Willie stepped out of the car, a man with worn jeans, a black leather jacket and a pair of aviators waved. He looked kind of familiar, but Claire was unsure.

"Who is that?" Claire asked quietly.

Annalise followed her line of vision. "Oh, I thought you knew that guy." She frowned when Claire shook her head and squinted to get a better look. "I was told the guy flying our plane was the soon to be famous Highlands' ultimate guide to Scotland." As if on cue, the man removed his aviators and started walking towards their car, a smile plastered to his unshaven face. When he waved at them, Annalise giggled, and Claire's eyes widened in confusion. "You probably can't recognise him from afar ...it's your author, Tom Christie," Annalise announced with a satisfied smile and to her utmost shock. "He's flying us to Stornoway."

What the bloody hell? Jamie arranged this?

Dear Readers,

Thank you all for your readership and the feedback from the previous chapter. I'm super thrilled a lot of you enjoyed it after what I put you all through with Jamie and Claire's roller-coaster journey. I hope it was worth it all in the end.

Speaking of the end, the next chapter will be the last for this arc, and after taking a break, I will start arc three of the WONDERWALL series. I'll keep you updated here. Meanwhile, feel free to speculate what the next chapter will be. Until my next update, wishing you all good health and vibes. X

#melodyheart #wonderwall #milesbetweenus #claire beauchamp/jamie fraser #jamie fraser #claire beauchamp #outlanderfanfic

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nocturnaldivinationsfallingstars · 3 years

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A Stray Bullet Part 4

Fandom: Gotham Characters: Victor Zsasz, female!reader, James Gordon, Harvey Bullock and a doctor. Warnings: Mentions of blood, swearing Summary: The reader is James Gordon’s sister and works for the GCPD and is dating Victor Zsasz. The reader has kept it a secret from her brother, until one day when she takes a bullet that was meant for him. Victor then shows up at James’ place to see the reader. Word count: 4121 A/N: I am sorry this one took a while, but I had to take a couple of days off for emotional needs.

The car ride to the apartment that James shared with his sort of, maybe girlfriend Barbara Kean had been a rocky and silent one. You had been jolted all over the car, into the back doors and nearly through the front windscreen a couple of times to name a few. You had hit your side with the bullet wound against the door, even though you had tried your best to make the impact a lot less rough on your already traumatised body. You were sure that you would still end up with a bruise. Either way, you blacked out near the end of the ride from both exhaustion and pain, only to have your brother nudge you awake.

Each time your body hit one of the doors or the front seats you could hear James mutter out a not so heartfelt apology under his breath. All you could manage from your place in the back was a pain grunt or two to let him know that you're semi-okay, although right now you felt as if you wanted to be sick from being jostled around. It didn't take much longer before James parked your car in the middle of the road outside his apartment complex.

Once James had cut the engine, he unbuckled the seatbelt and yanked the back door open, hauling you out of the back while keeping an iron grip around you as he closed the doors and locked the car. “Okay, just a bit further,” he urged, leading you up the steps towards the open glass doors that led to the fancy lobby, receiving looks of concern from some residents that stood around the spacious area. All of them watching with mixed looks of horror and surprise as drops of blood fell to the shiny marble floor beneath your feet. None of them made a move to help or even ask what happened to you or James, just simply stood there and watched as he struggled to drag you to the closed doors of the elevator.

It wasn't like you could blame any of them for keeping their distance and their mouths shut around you and James, what with the given state of Gotham and the recent rise in crime lately. The fact that almost every criminal could get away with damn near anything and everything they do. You wouldn't want to be added onto someone's hit list for simply asking people a question on why they're bleeding all over the lobby floor of your home.

“How are you doing?” James suddenly asked, pulling you away from your thoughts. The doors to the elevators opened you stumbled on your way. Jim pressed the button to the floor of his apartment as he let out a sigh, still holding onto you tightly. You didn't answer him As you were too busy using the rest of your energy to keep yourself standing.

“Hey, hey, [Y/N]. How are you doing?” He asked you again and helped you into the large room once the doors to the elevator slid open. Of course, you still had to make your way through the hallway and to the door, which he then had to unlock. James pushed the door open, and you followed his dark brown eyes as they scanned the spacious living space before you, like he was expecting someone to be there in the darkness, waiting for an opportune time to attack and finish the job. Out the corner of your eyes you noticed that he gave a nod of his head, confirming that it was safe to go inside his own apartment.

“Peachy… Just — Just peachy,” you breathed out through the nauseous feeling that twisted painfully in the pit of your stomach. You felt sweaty and had a mild headache forming at the back of your head, most likely from the blood loss. Back in the car you noticed that you had started to feel dizzy, although you didn't voice your concern to your brother, it would only make him worry more and become more protective. He was probably already panicking internally enough as it is.

You squeezed your eyes shut tightly and willed yourself to not give into the urge to let gravity claim you and fall to the floor, where if you had your way, you'd stay until you felt better or bleed to death. The latter sounding like a better option to you right now since you didn't want to have a conversation about Victor with your brother. "You don't look so good," James told you, his voice sounded quiet to your ears even though he stood beside you. "You look clammy, and you're sweating," he muttered out. All you managed was a short pain filled laugh. It wasn't funny, you knew it wasn't, but you couldn't keep it in.

"That uh, yeah, that usually happens when someone loses a lot of blood." You croaked out snarkily, trying to lighten the heavy air that settled around you. You swallowed hard, your throat feeling unusually dry.

"You know, she's exactly like you. She can't read a room and her humour is terrible." The familiar gruff sound of Harvey Bullock’s voice sounded out. James scoffed at that, but your lips twitched up at the corners in amusement. You had to force your eyes open. It didn't take too long for your eyes to fall upon the scruffy detective, his hat discarded on the coffee table beside him.

"Well, if it isn't Harvey Bullock." You didn't think Harvey would help if James had asked him to, considering he nearly throttled James into the ground of the men's locker room back in the GCPD a couple of days ago because your brother decided it was a good idea to let Oswald Cobblepot live. You wondered when James had the time to call Harvey. Was it when you had been blacked out in the back of your car? Or was it sometime before then, but you hadn't noticed? It couldn’t have been before you blacked out, you would have remembered the trilling conversation that must have transpired over the phone otherwise.

A woman with long dark brown hair stood a few meters away from Harvey, a look of concern written clear as day across her features. You assumed she was a doctor, and you sure as hell hoped that she was in fact a certified doctor and not just some shady person that Harvey knows. "How're you doing darling?" He asked you, his voice warmer than it was when he previously spoke to James. He must still hold some resentment to his partner for his lie.

"Oh, you know... not bad, bleeding out, and I want to sleep. But not bad." You responded, as if on cue your eyes slid shut, almost like you had commanded it. "Please for the love of... just tell me that she is a certified doctor," you whispered to your brother as quietly as you could manage.

A whine left you as you opened your eyes once more, still trying to fight back the sleep that was threatening to take you to the black abyss behind your eyes. "They are someone that Harvey knows," he flashed an awkward side smile in your direction to let you know that he is indeed being serious about it.

Blinking at him, you took a minute to process what he had just told you, your eyes scanned his features for the telltale signs of a lie, or at least any signs to indicate that he's joking. Waiting for him to keep talking and tell you that Harvey did in fact call someone who knew a doctor who could do an urgent house call at such short notice and wouldn't ask questions about it. But there was that nervous tick, it was faint but noticeable.

"Oh no. No, no, and no," you started quickly and shook your head, removing your arm from around his back and placed the palm of your hand against his shoulder, pushing yourself away from him. Stumbling to the side you somehow managed to get yourself free from James's iron grip. "I know exactly what that means. If I wanted someone who is medically uncertified to root around my insides to get a damn bullet out, then I would have asked you or Harvey to do it for me." James shot a hand out towards you with lightning fast reflexes, his fingers snagging your upper arm to keep you from toppling over onto the dark brown wooden floor beneath your feet.

"Stop being so bloody stubborn! I am not going to perform or let anyone else who isn't a qualified doctor perform any sort of surgery on you, and potentially get you killed!" He snapped back a bit too harshly without meaning to. You swayed on the spot, staring at him for the longest time, your lips parted as if you were going to say something in response. You wanted to, god knows you wanted to say *something*, but you didn't know what you could say without making him yell even more.

Of course, you knew that he didn't mean to yell at you like that. That he was only worried about your well-being, worried about getting hurt even more so than you are now or worse, killed. However, this had been the first time in a very long time James had snapped at you, and it had to have happened at the worst time.

"I didn't mean to yell at you," he said slowly as some kind of emotion flashed across his usually emotionless face, but it was far too quick for you to catch.

"It's fine. I get it, Jim." James watched wide-eyed as you pulled your arm out of his hand, causing you to stumble over your feet as you took a step backwards on shaking legs. You could feel everyone's eyes on you and all you wanted to do was to hide from them and sort this whole thing out yourself. Hurt was clear in your voice like a sparkling diamond set out in the sun as you spoke. "It's fine," you assured him, turning away, so you could move the rest of the way towards the couch on your own. Your vision was starting to blur and melt together, you blinked a few times to clear your fuzzy vision.

You went to take another step towards the blurring couch, repeatedly blinking to keep your vision in focus when all of a sudden it seemed as if the coffee table and the floor raised upwards to meet you, twisting and distorting for the briefest moment before settling on its side. From both corners of the room you could hear at the very least two people calling out your name, followed by the loud and unmistakable thud of your body hitting the glass surface of the coffee table and then the floor. Which was then followed closely by the sound of a million shards of glass shattering and tumbling across the hardwood floor, echoing around you, so loudly it seemed to drown out the sounds of people yelling for you to open your eyes and to keep them open.

After what appeared to be a few seconds, you could feel the electric buzz of pain ripple through you, causing your mind to jolt out of the darkness and quietness that had all but consumed your consciousness. The room blared dizzyingly back to life around you, the two deep voices of James and Harvey mixed together with the high-pitched frantic voice of the woman that you forgot to get the name of. You couldn't make out a single word either of them were saying to you.

"Ugh," you groaned out and moved your hand to your shoulder where you felt a dull pulsating pain hammer and throb across your skin. Your fingers barely brushed over the soft fabric that's wrapped securely around your shoulder, but not hard enough to cut off blood flow. Someone grabbed your forearm and yanked your hand away from the bandage, holding it down tightly to some kind of slightly scratchy, yet soft fabric.

You finally managed to pry your eyes open to find that everything was blurry, the lights hanging above you didn't help much either. However, you could make out Harvey and James hovering over you, but their expressions were something you couldn't make out.

"Can one of you please hold her down?!" The female demanded snappily with a slight hint of panic evident in her voice as you moved to get up from your warm, cushiony spot. She spoke again as you were inevitably pushed back into the cushions of what you assumed to be the now bloodied couch. "I have a hold of the bullet. If she moves I might lose it, or make things worse for her.”

You didn't like the idea of that and let out a yelp as two sets of strong hands fell down to your shoulders and pushed you further into the cushions. You assumed that they belonged to James and Harvey since they're the only two men in the apartment. Harvey moved his arms from your shoulder and down to your arm, like he was trying to get a better hold of you. James did the same, both of their holds on you tightening, as if they were putting all of their weight into keeping you down while the doctor got to work.

"H - ow!" You let out an inhuman screech as the woman ripped the long forceps and brass bullet out of your side. Warm, sticky blood trickled down your skin as the bullet was removed. After, the pain was red-hot as it pulsed through you, you felt as if your flesh was burning because of the quick and simple action.

Harvey and James let go of your arms, their shoulders shooting straight up to their ears as the screech bounced around the quiet room. The woman even placed her hands over her own ears as she stared at you, taken back by the sudden noise. It almost sounded as if you were an ancient dinosaur. "Keep a hold of her arms, and for the love of god keep her still. I need to suture the wound up," the woman told them with authority in her voice - she had clearly taken over the situation. All you wanted to do was to roll over and clutch your throbbing side in your hands, but that was out of the question.

By the time James and Harvey had their hands back on your arms, putting all their weight into it, you had your vision back. James had a stony look on his features, something he had mastered while in the army. While Harvey looked as if he was cringing at everything that is happening to you, most likely picturing himself in your situation. You let out a deep, heavy and shaky breath of air, your eyes darting around the room to find something to keep yourself occupied, to keep your mind from the pain.

"Oh god," you whimpered, you could feel Harvey's thumb rub over the skin of your arm soothingly. You hated to admit it but in a way Harvey had become a brother of sorts to you, a little like a father figure as well, you supposed.

"Okay, I just need to clean the wound, and then suture it, and then I'll bandage it all up." The woman told you in a soft, somewhat calming voice. However, it did nothing to calm your nerves. “Alright?” Like it was any good asking you that question, she was going to do it anyway, and you had no choice in the matter. Unless you wanted to die, which you didn’t.

Bobbing your head in acknowledgement to the doctor’s rhetorical question, all the worries about the woman who is currently taking care of your wounds being completely unqualified or even a doctor to the gangs of Gotham now forgotten about. She seemed to know what she was doing, at least you could give her credit for that. She hesitated for a minute, before pouring a bit of Hydrogen Peroxide onto a cloth and rubbed it over the wound to prevent it from getting infected. "It might make the healing process slow, but it'll do you some good." The doctor said to no one in particular, but that didn't stop you from mentally taking note of it.

To you, it felt like the deepest and darkest form of torture and that the devil himself was pressing a burning hot poker against your side. You pressed your lips together into a tight thin line and tried to roll onto your side as if to shield the bullet hole in your side. Tried being the key word since you were roughly pulled back into place by none other than Harvey who gave you a nervous smile, that did nothing to ease the nerves that started to rise up in the pit of your stomach. "I'm sorry [Y/N]. It's for your own good," he told you without hesitation.

You couldn't bring yourself to believe a word of what he said. If something this painful was for someone's own good then you can honestly say, with your hand on your heart, that you never wanted it to happen ever again.

"Is it over yet?" Laughing nervously, looking up at Harvey and James with pleading eyes.

"Not yet." James answered in return, his eyes never leaving the doctor as she carefully threaded the plastic surgical line through the needle they've brought with them to do the job. The next painful thing to happen was the feel of a pointed needle being pushed in and out of your tender skin. All you could do was let out a low whimpering sound, trying to find something that you could hold onto tightly for comfort but all you could curl your fingers around was the thick fabric under yourself.

Luckily, however, it didn't take too long for the doctor to do the sutures. She actually worked really fast and didn't mess up a single stitch. The woman was quick to put the bandage over your bullet wound too.

"Yeah, I don't plan on taking any more bullets that are meant for my brother. Thanks for your concern though." You joked.

The woman looked from you and then to your brother, raising a questioning brow at the two of you. "Neither of you get shot like this again or otherwise. I don't want to make another house call for something worse because the Gordon siblings can't keep themselves out of trouble." Harvey snorted out a laugh and clapped James on the back. Perhaps he wasn't as mad at James as you previously thought that night, but that didn't really matter to you right now.

The doctor said her goodbyes to you and James, telling him to keep an eye on you because you've lost a lot of blood. Like she could steal bags of blood from the hospital she worked in as if it was nothing, like she had done it plenty of times before in the past without getting caught or questioned. Harvey also left with the woman to take her back home, whether it was back to his place or hers you didn't quite care to ask. Not really wanting to know the specifics and honestly if he told you too much information about her, you were afraid it would break the illusion that you made up about her.

Once they were gone you managed to push yourself up into a sitting position. James had gone to find the pyjamas that you left there when you last visited and stayed the night, so you could get out of your bloody clothes. Although your blouse was pretty much useless now because they had to cut it off to be able to take care of you. Not that you cared about it, you hated the blouse anyway. "How are you feeling?" James asked suddenly. You hadn't noticed that he had joined you and was now sitting beside you with his hands held out in your direction, holding your pyjama's out for you.

You could see the smallest hint of a smile on his lips, a hopeful one. You hummed out a quiet thank you as you took the pyjama from him, carefully nodding your head "I feel... Less like I got shot and more like the devil himself is using a burning hot poker to stab me." You laughed out shortly, leaning into him and nudged his shoulder with your, wincing at the pain that fluttered through you.

A light-hearted chuckle came from beside you, James seemed to be relieved that you're joking about it. "I am sorry for putting you through that." You moved to get up, however the movement was slow, and in the end James helped you up by giving you a push.

"Considering I took two bullets for you and saved your ass, I think we're even." You told him cockily and walked a small distance from the couch. James turned on the couch the best he could so his back was to you.

"Oh, you saved my ass?" He asked in a cheerful voice. James was looking to the floor, finding the remaining shards of glass interesting, to give you privacy while you got into the clothes. You pulled the black spaghetti strap tank top over your head and bit your cheek to keep yourself from moaning in pain.

"Uh, yes I saved your damn ass from getting shot. However accidental it was," you sassed back, kicking your boots off and watched as they landed on the floor in a heap you got into your shorts quickly. James snorted at you, apparently finding your comment amusing.

He laughed and took a hold of your arm to keep you up right, "right, yeah. You saved my ass," you turned your head to look at him and noticed that he had his eyes closed.

"If it wasn't for me accidentally getting in the way of the bullets, you'd be shot and probably bleeding out somewhere." You made a face at the bloody trousers that you were wearing in disgust. The doctor was right, you had lost a lot of blood, or at least enough to make it, so you're not in need of a blood transfusion.

A quietness passed over the eerie living room which soon gave way to awkwardness. The only noises that could be heard were yours and James' breathing, and the sounds of the busy Gotham streets outside the apartment. Your eyes darted towards the open window behind you and James, and then to the front door, both ways for Victor to enter. You needed to call him to tell him that you're fine, he'd be beside himself if you left it any longer, but that would mean you need to get some time alone to be able to talk privately without James over hearing.

"You know you still haven't told me why I couldn't take you back to your place and get a doctor," his voice broke the suffocating silence and nearly made you jump straight into his arms. "Come on [Y/N]," he persisted, nudging your arm with his elbow.

You were hoping your brother would have forgotten all about it what with everything that had happened or at the very least he wouldn't bring it up at this very moment. But you had to admit, he really did have you cornered. You folded your trousers and placed them on the floor with your boots, staying quiet as you mulled your answer over very carefully.

"Listen, Jim." you trailed off slowly, thoughtfully, not knowing how to say the next words that you wanted to say. He was going to explode when you told him. He would tell you that you're being stupid and that you need to stop seeing Victor. "It's... Complicated," you shrugged as your eyes darted around the room, looking for some kind of excuse or even some kind of godly intervention to save you or interrupt the conversation.

"How complicated could it possibly be?" He asked, looking at you for an answer.

"Extremely," you muttered out and moved away from him as he dropped his arms to his side, squinting his eyes at you like he was trying to figure out a riddle.

“You’re hiding something,” he decided.

"Pfft, What?" You asked anxiously. "No," you said a little too quickly and clenched your jaw at his accusation.

"What is it?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest once more like your father used to do when the two of you got into trouble for something. Fuck.

Tag list; @elasmo-branchii, @nheirei, @the-ramblings, @milly-louise

#Gotham #gotham fanfic #gotham x reader #gotham x you #Victor Zsasz #victor zsasz x reader #victor zsasz x you #Victor zsasz reader insert #victor zsasz x female reader #writing #fanfiction #fanfic #ASB mention #ASB part 4 #ASBP4 #A Stray Bullet #A Stray Bullet Part 4 #trigger warning blood #tw:blood

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huntertales · 3 years

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Part One: Abstinence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder. (Rock And A Hard Place S09E08)

Episode Summary: Sheriff Jody Mills enlists the help of Y/N and the Winchesters to help investigate multiple kidnappings that belonged to the same chastity group. The three decide to infiltrate the group for themselves. But things go wrong when Y/N and Dean disappear. Sam and Jody must rescue them before it’s too late. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 5,223.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

NOTE: Yes, this is a repost. I edited a few things around because I didn’t like it when I read it over. Took me a few days to actually get around to doing such thing. Sorry about that, but please enjoy!

Dean wasn’t sure if he should be concerned at the state he found you in when he walked into the kitchen this morning, or take a picture to tease you about this later. It seemed you were in the process of eating breakfast before you somehow fell asleep at the table, your head cradled in your arms as you quietly snored, notifying Dean that you were in a deep sleep. You hadn’t taken a hunt in the past couple of days since coming back from New York, giving you and the boys a chance to catch up on some sleep between looking for jobs and trying to figure out how to fix the mess Metatron made. While you helped when you could, your sleep hadn’t been disturbed all that much. Dean thought this might have been the first time since you started hunting you’ve gotten a healthy amount of sleep.

He could tell because you slept like the dead last night. Dean had to lovingly, but quite forcefully, push you off his chest so he could get a jump start on the day. Normally it was you who slipped out of bed first and Dean eventually got himself up. Instead you rolled over to your side of the bed and slept for another twenty minutes before you got up. You seemed your usual self when you woke up this morning, eyes half-shut and grumpy, signaling to him you forced yourself up against your own will. On mornings like this Dean learned to wait until your first cup of caffeine to speak a word to you. It seemed you had just done that from how the pot was still hot and plenty full for everyone else. But for some reason, you were still exhausted and in need of a little cat nap.

“Sweetheart?” Dean quietly spoke out to you, making sure to keep his voice at a soft enough level so he didn’t disturb you from your slumber. Normally you were a light sleeper on a good day. He made his way over to the table and leaned over to see your peacefully sleeping face. You were out cold. His lips twitched into a small smile at how adorable you looked. Dean knew he was going to get it from what he did next, but to hell with the consequences. He never got the chance to prank you like he did with Sam.

Dean made his way over to the table with a bowl in hand and a little too roughly dropped it down, causing you to wake up abruptly and with a rush of panic. The man snickered to himself behind his coffee cup as he watched you frantically look around the kitchen wondering where the noise came from. When you realized who was to blame for your rude awakening, there was a few second delayed reaction before you rolled your eyes.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” Dean greeted you, smiling from the way you tried to fix your disheveled hair and smooth down your wrinkled top. “Did I disturb you?’

“What? No.” You mumbled. You rubbed your eyes like a tired child and forced yourself to keep a yawn from escaping your mouth. Sam happened to come into the kitchen right as you dropped your arms into your lap. The younger Winchester gave you a slightly confused reaction at your groggy demeanour. Your face scrunched up in annoyance from his lingering stare. “What are you looking at, Sasquatch?”

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Sam asked you out of concern, wondering if a bad nightmare kept you up most of the hours. None of you were strangers to restless nights due to a wandering mind that went to dark places you traveled to. Your entire life was a living nightmare, your past troubles liked to come and haunt you when you tried to sleep. But it seemed that wasn’t the case for you.

“On the contrary, she slept like a drunk baby. I had to pry her off me this morning.” Dean answered his brother’s question for you on his behalf. “And I caught her napping on the table.”

“Before either one of you waste your breath, I’m fine. It’s just…I’m fine.” You reassured the younger Winchester before he could bombard you with his typical worried expression and a follow up question. Despite your lack of a proper answer to explain your exhaustion, you didn’t want them to worry. They liked to over exaggerate things when it came to you. It's always been that way. Lately you didn’t want them looming over your shoulder, asking you every few minutes if you were feeling okay. Before either one of the brothers could drag out this conservation farther, you quickly changed the subject. “How’s Kevin? Has he found anything yet?”

“Jack. He’s on about four days of no sleep.” Dean said. He grabbed the box of cereal and poured himself a bowl while Sam joined the both of you at the table after fixing himself a cup of coffee. “He looks worse than you.”

“Dean, please. You know Sammy doesn’t like it when you flirt with me out in the open like this.” You replied with a sarcastic remark with a little hope the boys might think you were in decent shape after all if you were able to keep up with the petty banter. Despite how you looked. Somehow you thought you might feel worse. “What about Crowley? Do you think he might be lying about the whole ‘Metatron spell being irreversible’ thing?”

“Crowley lie?” Dean pretended to sound shock at such a possibility, causing Sam to scoff between sips of his coffee. While the situation was grim, there was a small silver lining that you might be able to use to your advantage over the demon. “I do know one thing. Next time that junkie’s jonesing for a hit of blood, we got leverage.” You were about to agree with the plan, knowing it was better than anything you had, but the words failed to come out of your mouth. Instead a rather loud yawn escaped first. “Seriously, you want a pillow?”

You rolled your eyes from your boyfriend’s concern hidden behind his behavior. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look so good, Y/N.” Sam shared his concern along with his brother’s. He’d been silent for most of the conversation since settling beside you. It didn’t take much observations to see you weren’t looking that great as of lately. He was starting to grow uneasy with the possibility that there might be something wrong with you. Something deeper than you realized. “Do you feel like you’re getting sick?”

“I’m not sick. I just—I feel like my battery can’t recharge.” You admitted to them, trying to explain how you felt to the best of your ability to them. “I don’t know. It’s probably just stress or something.”

You reached for your bowl of soggy cereal when the room fell into a moment of silence. The brothers glanced over at one another from hearing how you felt. A string of unspoken words were said between them as they processed what you explained about your current situation. You were being held together from the inside out with duct tape and angel grace. Things weren’t moving quick or as efficient as they wanted. Despite wanting to talk about it, Ezekiel remained silent on a possible reassuring update, choosing to stay silent.

You scooped up a spoonful of flakes and stretched out your head to take a bite, only stopping at the sound of a cell phone going off. Dean reached a hand inside his pocket to pull out his phone after realizing it was his own and answered the call. The person on the other line was a familiar one to the boys, you however gave the older Winchester a slightly confused expression at hearing the name he greeted.

”Who’s Sheriff Mills?” You whispered to Sam, wondering why the name sounded a bit familiar, just not enough for you to put a face to a name.

“Jody Mills? The sheriff up in Sioux Falls? We worked on a case with her years back with all the dead people rising in town?” Sam tried refreshing your memory. You thought about it for a second before shaking your head, coming up blank. He tried to resist the urge to pass his brother a look of disbelief as he continued on to try and jog your memory. “She went on a blind date with Crowley and nearly died.”

“Oh.

Jody.” You finally figured out who was on the other line, your fingers snapping at your eureka moment before the call could be put on speaker for all of you to talk to the woman to see what she was calling about.

“Uh…I got a bit of an oddball to pitch your direction.” Jody said. You leaned forward to listen to the call better as you placed your elbow on the table to cradle your head. For a second you swore you heard a faint sound of something crashing in the distance. “A small town I cover outside of Sioux Falls—only crime to speak of being the occasional cow tipping. Then last week, four people go missing.”

“All right, so, what makes you think this is our kind of weird?” Dean asked the woman.

“I’ve got a witness who says he saw someone lift an S.U.V. to nab a girl last night.” She told you the key detail that made her think of the boys and call them for some extra help.

“Huh.” You glanced over at the boys with a rather intrigued expression as the possibility of another case for you to dig a little bit deeper into to see if it might be a hunt. “I don’t know about you, but I’d say that’s definitely our kind of weird.”

+ + +

You and the boys packed up your things and made the drive up to South Dakota to visit the sheriff. You figured it wouldn't hurt to keep yourselves busy while Kevin worked himself to the bone with the tablet. All of you decided to meet at the latest crime scene and go from there while you caught up on details. You were happy to be out of the bunker and moving around. You hoped going back on another hunt might give you a second wind. There was nothing better than a couple of missing people to get the adrenaline pumping. You just wished you knew what was making you so damn tired. You bit back another yawn when the Impala pulled into the parking lot of some diner.

You were the last one to get out when Dean parked the car next to the sheriff’s truck, still moving a bit slower than you intended. The boys greeted Jody with wide smiles and tight hugs after seeing her again. You slammed the backseat door shut and smoothed out your outfit before approaching the woman, giving her a friendly smile. However it seemed she wasn’t expecting to see you. Your smile faltered slightly at the confused and startled expression that crossed her face. It seemed the boys failed to mention about your resurrection from the dead when they called to see how she was after everything that went down earlier this year with her blind date with the King of Hell.

“What’s wrong, Jody? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Dean joked with the woman, finding her reaction at seeing someone who thought was dead was rather funny. She turned her head to look over at the man, demanding an explanation. “Yeah. We felt the same way when I saw her again. It’s a long, messy story.”

“I’m

a ghost. Or a zombie.” You reassured the woman before she could try and process how you were somehow alive. “It really is a messy story. Short version of it all: not really dead, just lost my memory and thought I was someone else for two years.”

“It never is easy with you boys, huh?” Jody felt the need to ask. You could hear the humor in her voice at the trouble that seemed to follow them. “Anyway, it’s nice to see you again, Y/N. Glad you’re not dead.”

“Me too.” You agreed with the woman, smiling at how her personality peeked through her words. From what you remembered about the woman all those years ago when Bobby was still alive, you liked her. And the things the boys mentioned about her during the drive here made you think she was going to be a good friend to have on your side. “Luckily, I’m back and ready to hunt down whatever is kidnapping these people.”

“That’s the spirit. So, car was right over there, ass over teakettle.” Jody gestured over to the other side of the parking lot where the abduction took place, all that remained was the broken glass from the car that was currently being swept up by a maintenance worker. “Now, normally, if somebody would tell me that one guy lifted an S.U.V, I’d tell him to take a flying leap, but after what I’ve seen and now heard…”

“Nothing’s impossible.” You said. You opened up the case file to one of the missing people and skimmed through the information, wondering if there might be something important here to make note of while the boys went through the others. "How does this match up with other missing people?”

“Well, four abductions, strong evidence left at every scene—literally.” Jody said.

“So, the first vic was a pastor?” Sam asked, wondering if there was another more solid connection to the rest of the victims.

“Yeah. Door of his study was punched in. And the next two—an engaged couple.” Jody explained the case in better detail. You looked down at the case file Dean laid open on the trunk of the Impala and the black and white photograph attached. All of the victims appeared to be the small town folk who were innocent at first glance. Someone went out of their way to snatch them up.

“Locked bedroom window was ripped open.” Dean noted the similarly strange and destructive pattern between each kidnapping.

‘And then we have our waitress here with the topsy-turvy ride.” Jody added.

“Any other connection among them?” Sam wondered.

“Yeah. They were all members of Good Faith church here.” Jody said. You narrowed your eyes slightly while you thought of the possibility of what might be might be to blame for this if there was a religious connection to all of this. You and the boys dealt with something like this a little similar earlier in the year. “My church group back in Sioux Falls was in a tizzy over it.”

Dean hummed his response at hearing the sheriff and her new found spiritual faith. You tossed him a dirty look at his reaction to the woman’s faith to God. She had every right to believe in whatever she wanted, even if you didn’t feel the same way. Jody seemed to have picked up on the same feelings you had when she asked him what that was all about. “I didn’t peg you for churchy.”

“Yeah. You know…choking on the ladies’ room floor ‘cause of witchcraft kind of makes a higher power seem relevant.” Jody gave the man a truthful response to her sudden urge to join a church. You offered a weak smile when you saw her eyes direct over to you. “And seeing someone you were told was dead doesn’t help, either.”

“Jody, are you sure you’re ready to jump back into the fray?” Dean asked the woman in a concerned tone of voice, knowing all the things she witnessed last year and the passing of Bobby didn’t help the woman. But it seemed he underestimated her.

“This wackadoo stuff keeps coming. More I know, better armed I’ll be.” Jody gave an honest response to the man’s question. She was a sheriff, after all. If she wanted to protect her town from creatures that went bump in the night, she was going to have some practice in order to do that. You had a feeling from what Jody witnessed over the years, it was going to take a lot to scare the woman to the core.

“Okay, so, we have missing church folk and super strength.” Sam summarized what all of you knew at the moment so far about the case. He decided to take a shot in the dark, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to throw his theory out there. “Maybe angels harvesting vessels? Could be a Buddy Boyle type thing.”

“Wh—angels?” Jody repeated the creature the younger Winchester spoke out in the open like it was nothing. She looked at all of you with disbelief at how casual you were being. “You’re joking.”

“Don’t get your pants on fire.” Dean said, stopping the woman from becoming thrilled at hearing about creatures she thought only existed in the bible. “They suck.”

“You said there was a witness.” Sam said, circling back to what Jody mentioned earlier.

“Yeah, well…” Jody shrugged at the person who was waiting for you to talk to them. She didn’t seem too set on the idea they were going to be any help to you. “More or less.”

You and the boys decided to get a booth inside the restaurant while Jody rounded up the witness so you could speak to them. You sipped the coffee you ordered out of politeness and patiently waited. A few minutes later Jody arrived with your witness, a homeless man who most likely camped out near the place from the looks of him. You offered a friendly smile when the man's eyes scanned across the table to see what this was all about. Jody pulled up a chair while she ushered the man to take the seat in the booth next to you when you slid over to be close to the window. He set his coffee cup down to the table, seeming comfortable enough to give his side of the story.

“Okay, Slim.” Jody said. “My friends here want to talk to you about the missing girl.”

“Honor. Her name was Honor.” The man started off by giving the missing girl’s name, indicating that he knew her on some personal level. And it seemed he remembered her from the kind behavior given to someone like him. “Nice girl. Always left me meatloafs.”

“Slim, why don’t you tell us what you saw that night?’ Sam asked the man, hoping to get to the reason why he was here in the first place.

“I heard a big noise, got woke, and there’s somebody over there lifting a car up—like this.” Slim demonstrated what he witnessed last night, lifting up his arms the way he saw the stranger did to the car, as if the several ton machine weighed nothing.

“And did you happen to see who it was?” You asked him another question.

“I was too far. But I saw a light go off.” Slim made sure to add a small detail he thought was important enough to mention. Sam guessed it was a white light, “Blue. Blue like fire. But not. Then she was—she wasn’t there.”

“Could you think of anything else?” Dean hoped for a little bit more from the man, but Slim shook his head before he looked down to his cup of coffee. He was helpful enough for you and the boys at figuring out what you might be tracking. Dean pulled out a small wad of cash from his pocket and handed over a twenty dollar bill to Slim, hoping to give him a hot meal for his help. “Well Slim, thank you for your time.”

Slim happily pocketed the money and went on his way with the cup of coffee he came over with. You let out a quiet sigh from trying to figure out the proper direction you should be going to figure all of this out. While you didn’t have much at the moment, Slim’s description of the kidnapping might have been something for you and the boys to go off on.

“Okay. So, no white light. No angel.” Sam said, feeling confident enough to cross the creature off the list at the endless other monsters to blame.

“Has anybody talked to the victims’ families?’ Dean asked the sheriff.

“It’s next on my list.” Jody answered.

“Okay, and you said that they were all part of the same church?” Dean’s question was replied with a nod of the head from Jody. This connection, strong or weak as it might be, was the only one you had going for you as a possible hunting ground of where this monster was picking their victims. It was better than anything. Your lips stretched into a frown when Dean looked over at you. “Ready to get your worship on?”

+ + +

You and the boys decided to change out your clothes meant for posing as federal agents in favor of something more casual. The church all four of your victims seemed the usual run of the mill place of worship. You pretended to play along as the new people in town interested in joining to get a better understanding of how things worked. The woman who helped give you a tour of the place was a little too friendly and squeaky clean for your liking. She smiled in delight when you and Dean introduced yourselves as a happy couple "engaged to be engaged" with his little brother tagging along.

You roamed around the church hand in hand with Dean while Bonnie, your overly peppy tour guide, told you all the things Good Faith church offered to its members and the public. Usual things like Sunday school and charities for the homeless. You decided to have a little fun and play into the whole loving couple when Bonnie mentioned the church was perfect for weddings as well. You smiled at her when she occasionally turned to see you and Dean whispering to each other, acting like a couple of crazy kids in love with a religious ceremony in mind. It wasn't that far off from the truth. You did love Dean, and while you wanted to marry him someday, a church would be the last place you'd choose to do it.

After the tour was complete, the four of you made your way to Bonnie's office where she took a seat at her desk before gesturing for the rest of you to follow with the few chairs she had available. Sam missed out when his brother swiftly snatched the chair next to yours, causing Dean to smirk in victory while the younger man awkwardly looked around to find another seat and pulled it up next to the desk.

"We hope you enjoyed the tour." Bonnie said, the smile she greeted you with felt as if it never left her face. It was starting to make your cheeks hurt at the welcoming disposition she carried on. "Any questions before we get you all registered?"

"Yeah. Uh, look," You pretended to be apprehensive from the subject you were about to approach after she had been so kind to you. "Ms. Futchko—"

"Oh, please, dear." Bonnie quietly laughed at the formalities and corrected to you something more casual, wanting to treat this situation like you were among friends. "Bonnie will do just fine."

"We love the church. We do." You cushioned the strange questions you were about to ask her, deciding to pretend and act as if you were a concerned citizen wondering what you might be getting yourself into. "But...well, we've heard that a few members have gone missing. And while my boyfriend likes to think he's Superman," You flashed a quick smile as you reached out to squeeze Dean's hand before letting it rest there to continue milking the little performance on sharing your fake concerns. "We’ve been talking in private about it. And to be honest…that kind of scares us.”

"Let me assure you, with our increased security, Good Faith has never been safer." Bonnie told you, placing a hand to her chest to try and give all of you a better peace of mind. It seemed she was worried about her fellow churchgoer, just in the way a little too religious person thought was the best form of action. Leaving it up all to the chance God would intervene and save the day. "And those people who have gone missing, well, they are front and center in our prayers."

"What a relief." Dean let out a breath at the reassuring sounding news, making Bonnie's smile return after it disappeared shortly from the change in conversation. "Now, you must have been close to them."

"Well, we do share the A.P.U. bond." Bonnie. Dean pretended to be intrigued at hearing such a thing when he asked more about it. "Our chastity group. ‘Abstinence Purifies Us.’”

You pretended to turn your head to another direction when you scratched your nose, the easiest way to sneak an eye roll of frustration at hearing the new connection to the victims. Out of anything, you should’ve seen the virginity angle coming from where you were.

"Wow." Sam laughed and smiled, faking interest about such a group. "You mind if we sit in on that, maybe see if it's for us?"

“I’m afraid it’s members only. I'm sorry, but it can get pretty personal." Bonnie apologized for the inconvenience after offering so many things for you to join, but it seemed this one was off limits for obvious reasons. You, never being the one to miss an opportunity, jumped to it before either one of the boys could back out.

“Then count us in.” You said, lightly smacking your thigh as you grinned.

"Well, I'll be a squirrel in a skirt." Bonnie softly laughed in delight at hearing your eager enthusiasm to join a group, intidicating to her that the three of you were good Christians. You mirrored her behavior as you smiled over at Dean when he squeezed your hand a little too roughly, wondering what the hell you got yourselves into. "I'll be back in a jiff with the papers."

Bonnie wasted no time jumping up from her seat and heading to another room across the way, allowing you to watch what she was doing. She opened up a filing cabinet and shuffled around some papers to find what she was looking for. Your attention fell back to Dean when you felt him softly smack your arm.

“A chastity group?” Dean asked you, wondering if this was really how you wanted to spend your afternoon. And why you needed to drag him into your plan. You knew he would love to do anything else than listen to a bunch of horny virgins go on about temptations and sins brought on by the world.

"It's not a bad idea." Sam seemed to have agreed with your plan of action, figuring out the same possible pattern you had. If you knew who was in the group, you might have a better chance at saving others from going missing. "If all the members were in A.P.U., then maybe whatever took them is stalking virgins."

"And that Slim guy said he thought he saw fire." Dean added another little detail that went together with the virginity part. Something you've dealt with before. "So, what are you guys thinking, dragons?"

You never got the chance to finish the conversation when you saw Bonnie return back with the forms in hand. You cleared your throat and went back to acting casual as if that’s what you had been doing the entire time she was gone during the short period of time. You forced yourself to smile again when she handed you over a clipboard with a piece of paper attached.

"You can just sign here, and your purification can begin." Bonnie instructed you, letting you glance down at the piece of paper. You read the title of the paper and slowly your expression fell as to what you were about to promise. Something you lost several years ago. You bit your bottom lip when Sam mentioned the pledge, only to be taken by someone who had never had intercourse before. "It's a commitment to your virginity."

"I don't think we can really un-ring that bell." Dean thought he was funny with the innocent sounding joke, deciding to humor himself. Bonnie, however, stared at the man with a blank expression. It hadn't dawned on her just yet why you couldn't sign right away. "You know what I mean?"

A moment of silence fell across the room as Dean's smile faded away when Bonnie continued to stare at the man with eyes too wide for his personal comfort. Slowly, the wheels in her head started turning, making her realize the sins you've committed. "Oh. I see." Bonnie's gaze quickly darted away from you and Dean specifically, as if she was trying to hide her disappointment. However, like the good Chrisitan that she was, the woman offered you a chance at redemption. "Well...if you just ask for God's forgiveness for your sins and make a new vow of chastity, well, then you'll be born again as a virgin in His eyes."

"So, you just hit the 'virginity do-over' button, and all is good with the man upstairs?" Dean's question meant to come off as sincere and curious, but he had a way of coming off a little igorent at times. Sometimes he didn't understand the kind of people he was dealing with and how to adapt.

"It's not a button." Bonnie corrected the man. Her tone of voice fell into a softer, and yet slightly colder one as she defended her personal views in a way to make him better understand. "And...this isn't just a piece of paper. I mean, this is your clean slate, your chance to be a virgin until marriage. Isn't that something you want? To be pure for each other until your wedding night, the way God intended?”

You raised your brow slightly from the way Bonnie tried to guilt trip you for doing something thought of as a sin. Premarital sex was the least horrible thing someone could do. However, just to get yourself into this damn group, you decided to pretend and feel remorseful for a second. You looked over to Dean, the both of you nodding your head and shared matching smiles. "Well, you had me at 'clean slate.' Right, sweetheart?" Dean asked you, clicking his pen to be the first one to sign. "Let's do this."

You and the boys signed your names on the pledge and handed over the clipboards back to Bonnie's awaiting hands. She glanced down at the names you scribbled down and smiled in delight. "Congratulations Sam and Dean Winchester, and Y/N Y/L/N. You are all virgins."

You found yourself letting out a quiet laugh at hearing something you hadn't heard in a while. Sam faked his enthusiasm while Dean took it a smidge too far, grinning a little too wide and seeming excited at the news. At least making a show out of it for Bonnie. You knew one thing for certain: this was going to be one interesting afternoon.

Rewrite Taglist:

@deansquirreljerkwinchester // @everything-i-tried-was-taken // @starswirlblitz // @supernaturalismydrug // @we-are-band-sexuals // @angiewinchestercas // @kaylinfayezink // @owhatshername1 // @kgbrenner // @cleo-is-my-doggy // @eeyore1988 // @dakota-dream // @lilylovelyxo // @timetravelingginger // @holahellohialoha // @quicksilver123456 // @natashacamillas //@lexi-anastasia //@kaylinfayezink // @deanwnchstr @albot-eh // @rashinyx2002 // @shellybeans // @icantfindacreativeurl // @becs-bunker // @oreosatmidnight // @bands-and-shietz // @fabulousmustachesonapolarbear // @clarewinchester // @releasethekracko // @alex-zeppelin // @mega-mrs-dean-winchester // @theskytraveler // @notmoose94 //@assassinofmasyaf // @caswinchester2000 // @savannah-m-99 // @sunlight-dean // @strayrosesbloom // @that-slytherin-over-there // @1000roughdrafts // @its-medeanwinchester // @simplyhemmings // @dream-believe-and-love // @that-winged-rat // @romanovanoffsstuff // @underthestarrsss // @lady-elena-adeline

Message me if you would like to be added!

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srose-foxfire · 3 years

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Damirae Week 2021 - Day 7 (part 1)

“Finding Our Happily Ever After: Part 1” Day 7: Soulmates

All Raven could recall was standing before Damian about to confess she wanted to stay with him and his family, if he allowed her. The moments that followed after were in a blur, she had felt a pull from the skies and before long she was rising in the dark grey skies at a rapid speed. Raven looked down to see she was being pulled away from her friends and Damian. Scared, the young maiden called out for him, she heard him call back and bark an order towards her captor. Raven could also faintly remember seeing Sombra, trying to attack her captor but was wounded. The next thing she remembers was trying to punch and free herself from her captor, but she was then struck on her head rather hard making her lose conscious throughout the flight.

Overtime Raven would briefly wake up catching glimpses of the surrounding lands, as they approach a mountain.

When her senses came back and she fully awoke, Raven found herself to be inside a dark cave. It was too dark for any mere mortal to be able to look through but the part of her that held demon blood allowed her to see in the darkness. Raven slowly turned her head, skimming the area, as she tried to stand, she notices a tug come from her wrists and ankles. Looking down on herself, Raven had been tied onto a wooden chair, her wrists and ankles were tied rather very tightly, she notice red bruised marks stain her wrists . Raven tried to wiggle from her chair, when from the darkest part of the room, she heard the grunts of an older man.

The cave was lit with floating wax candles holding a green flame on them, making the room glow in green. Raven managed to see two figures standing close together from the direction she had heard the man come from. One was tall and well built, a man with his face hidden behind a black and orange mask. Next to him was an old woman, though she had a devil look in her eyes as if she shouldn’t be easily trifled with. This woman was dress in grey rags, almost appearing to be her dress, her long grey-hair was in locks pointing in different directions. She wasn’t pleasant to the eyes and might as well frighten any child.

Raven exhaled carefully, “Who are you and what do you want with me?”

The man laughed lightly, he took a step toward Raven, “my… you really cut to the chase, my dear.” He then bowed towards her, “I am Slade Wilson, and I have a proposition for you.”

Before Raven had a chance to inquire, the old woman next to him, place her weary old boney hand on Slade’s arm, “my lord, I must advice not to deal with the likes of her. Contracts with them come at a price, perhaps-”

“Quite hag,” Slade hissed through clenched teeth, then glanced at Raven who had her brows lifted, he gave her a gentle laugh, “apologies my dear. Like I was saying I have a proposition, if you choose to accept it, and I will free you from those binds.”

Not allowing herself to falter, Raven held her head high and spoke with a stern voice. “Listen, I don’t have anything to my name, if you know who I am, I’ve been exiled from my father’s lands. I hold no value-”

“Oh, but you do my dear, you absolutely do and that is why you should be wise to choose this offer of mine.” Slade clapped his hands together, looking over to the older woman, who mumbled some incoherent words and a large wooden chair appeared right in front of Raven, Slade then sat down, she could feel he was studying her through his mask.

“Which is?” she then asked him.

The masked man, sighed heavily, “you have been staying with a certain and very peculiar family,” She could feel her heart picked up speed as she listened, her chest rised with disdain, and her face was starting to flush with anger as Slade continued, “the youngest child of said family… well he was given a birthright he did not deserve, well to make it short I want to employ you to help me bring him to ruin-”

Enrage, Raven glared and spoke the truth in her heart, “You are wasting your time with me; I will never turn against Damian or his family! They have given me more than my own father ever could… besides Gotham has been with the Wayne’s for generations, its Damian throne to take-”

“Shut her up.” Slade commanded with a hiss, the old woman who stood behind him muttered some words in another language Raven didn’t understand and her lips were sealed, Slade then rose from his chair and walked around her.

“Apologies but I hate interruptions. Yes, the little brat is the heir to rule over Gotham, but he was also given another birthright one he very carelessly gave away to his cousin. The kingdom of Nanda Parbat, a land inhabited by the world’s most elites of assassins, it’s former ruler was Ra’s al Ghul, had chosen his grandson, the one you know as Damian Wayne to take over his kingdom!” Frustrated, Slade then kicked the large wooden chair, across the room with a powerful kick.

The noise frightened the harpy as it screeched and flapped it wings from a corner, hoping around the room. The old woman hissed at it to quiet down, with a flick of her fingers tips the chair was rebuild and place across from Raven. Slade grabbed it and sat down, he clasped his hands on his lap and studied her, noticing Raven had her brows knitted together.

“You must wonder why I hate him so much, correct? Well I was the ‘Demon Head’s’ right man, he almost treated like a son… he once told me I was going to marry his daughter Talia, but what does he do instead? Create a ridiculous alliance with the kingdom of Gotham, King Bruce takes Talia in marriage and she gives birth to the little brat. That boy has stolen what was rightfully mine and gave it away like nothing.”

Slade then stood up, remove his mask to reveal a dark skinned man, with short white hair and a left eye covered by a piece of black leather, placed his hands on either side of Raven’s chair leaning ever so closely to her face, “I needed to have my revenge. That boy took everything away from me, so I took away everything he came to love. I had a cursed place on him, his family, and soon everyone came to forget that the kingdom of Gotham ever existed. Its people became like wind, it was like they never existed. I found pleasure knowing he would never get to experience true happiness… that is until…you came along.”

Raven’s chest was heaving as she strained to breath steadily, she could feel her blood start to boil and her head throb with rage. “You somehow manage to worm yourself into the castle and lighten the darkness I so perfectly designed for them. I had to come up with something else, something that would really bring that boy to his knees, and that is making you my bride.”

Slade started to caress her cheek with his hand, she turned and tried to lean away from his vile touch. Her mouth was beginning to fill with saliva and just for a split-second Raven felt strange. She had a feeling like she could overpower whatever had been placed onto her lips, she locked gaze with Slade’s, glared at him from underneath her lashes and then spit at him.

The older man groined and wipes his face with the back of his palm, the old woman gave out a horrible angry cry as she screamed, “you filthy wench! How dare you break my enchantment?!” Raven’s chair was lifted and flung towards the ceiling of the cave, Raven cried at the impact as she was dragged to the floor and up again. Then she was floating just above the old woman, with a flick of her old wrist, Raven was thrown across the cave, causing the chair she was tied on, to break at the impact.

“Stop it!” Slade yelled as he lifted his servant by the throat, then releasing her harshly. He turned and pointed his finger towards Raven. “You! Do you think you could ever live happily alongside a beast like him? Don’t you want to live a normal-human life with someone like me? I can give you that and so much more.”

“No… you can’t.” Raven strained to speak as her whole body was aching, she lifted herself off the ground with great difficultly, “Damian may be trapped in a beast’s body but even he has shown more compassion and kindness from any demon I have ever met! He is no beast, you are!”

“Enough! I employed this witch long time ago to curse him, now for being a thorn on my side you will perish!”

The old woman cackled and her fingertips sparked with green magic, “oh, what great pleasure you give me my lord to slay a sorceress of Azarath.” Azarath?

“Don’t you dare, hurt her!”

That voice! Raven turned around to what was hopefully the cave’s only exit and to see him magnificently riding on Titus, like a white knight riding on his noble steed. Damian hopped off from Titus, as they both snarled and growled at Raven’s captors.

“Damian!” Raven cried happily.

Slade laughed, “Well now, isn’t this a sight! The beast man with his beast dog!” He then unsheathes a sword he had on his hip and pointed it towards Damian, “You want the girl, you will have to go through me!”

“You will pay for what you did to her and to my family!” Damian yelled. He leaped towards Slade, swinging his claws to land a hit.

The harpy who had been standing nearby flew up and dive to attack Damian but was interrupted as Titus manage to bite one of its winged arms. The harpy cried out and kicked Titus on his muzzle, then tried biting him in return. When she missed used her clawed feet to puncture his shoulder. Titus effortlessly evade each attack, then lodged its fangs onto one of the harpy’s foot and swung it in his mouth like a doll. He then let go, causing the harpy to be thrown across the cave, it shrieks and cried painfully flying away, abandoning it mistress.

Titus barked proudly and ran towards Raven as they watched Damian continue to battle Slade. “You cause me my pet!” Raven turned around and notice the witch was flying towards her, Raven through herself away from the attack and Titus tried to swing his paw at her. The witch shot a bolt of her green magic and Titus whimper as he was struck. Angry, Raven stood and ran towards the witch as she managed to tackle her to the ground. They rolled on top of each other, Raven had the upper hand given to her youth and her own will to survive this terrible ordeal. But the witch had magic and she started chanting some words making Raven float away from her and then launching her like she had done before with the chair. Raven rolled a few feet away, she glanced up as the witch floated slowly towards her.

“Your mother turned me into this! She took away my beauty because I used it to lure men to their dooms, now it is time for me to have my revenge!” She raised her hands up, green sparks going off as she chanted a spell. Raven lifted her hands to shield herself, when she heard a whoosh sliced through the air. Slowly Raven, opened her eyes and widen them when she saw that the witch had been impacted by Slade’s sword. It had entered through her back and the tip managed to pierce through the front of her chest. She slowly floated down to the ground, standing still. The witch then slowly turned around still with the sword embedded through her as she glanced towards Slade. “My lord? Why…?”

“Our deal is off; you are no longer any use for me.”

Damian quietly moved around Slade as he approached Raven, he used his body to shield her from their enemies. He slowly pushed her towards the path he and Titus had come from. The witch continues to walk towards Slade, then pointed her long pointy finger. “You traitor,you dare double-cross a witch, all of you will never see the light of day, I cursed thee all to be buried in this cave!” Her whole body illuminated and burst into green and black ashes, the cauldron started to boil and erupted around the entire room. Which cause the cave to rumble and some stalactites fell all around them.

“Let’s go!” Damian yelled as he grabbed Raven’s hand and together ran along the path to exit the cave. Titus ran up ahead, managing to evade pillars of rocks tumbling down, at some point Damian lifted Raven in his arms and carried her off most of the path. As they near the exit, some rocks came lose, falling right at the foot of the entrance to the cave. Damian stopped, placed Raven down and then jumped on top the nearest boulder, he turned and reached for her hands to help her climb. Titus effortlessly jumped and stood near an opening big enough for them to pass through. When Raven reached the top, she reached out her hand to grab Damian’s paw, for a second her looked at her and couldn’t help but smile towards her.

Then out of nowhere Damian screamed out a roar of pain, one hand clawing the air around him. Raven glanced to Damian’s side and saw Slade had reached them and had use a dagger to pierce Damian. The young curse prince had lost his footing and grip, causing Raven to hold onto him as tightly as she could and not let him fall. Slade used this opportunity to stab Damian again, but he too lost his footing and pulled Damian down with him.

“Damian!” Raven cried as she watches him tumbled down and roll a few feet away from where they had started to climb. She and Titus hopped down the to the floor and running to Damian’s side. She knelt down and gently picked up his head in her hands, trying to shield him from the small debris. Titus stood next to them, using his own large body as a shield for his master and the young girl. The only entrance they had was covered by more rocks, trapping them inside the cave.

“You lost, you lost it all!” Slade exclaimed happily as he tried to stand up straight, with shaky legs started walking towards them. “I was never going to let you live a happy life! You deserved this; oh, you so deserve this!” Slade chanted madly, all reason was gone, now before them was an old man filled with utter madness. Above them a large cracking sound was heard, gazing right above him a large stalactite broke from the roof and landed right where Slade had stood.

The cave continued to crumble around them. Damian was heavily panting, trying to minimize how much in pain he was in. “Save yourselves,” he whispered through painful breaths.

“I am not leaving you.” Raven answered him as she cradle his face. There has to be a way. Raven thought. She turned and turned her head all around her hoping to see something that could save them. But there was nothing, all was truly lost as Slade had said, was this truly what they were fated for from the start? Was the grand design of the universe this cold-hearted towards them in wanting to have a happy life? Wanting to hold on to what had brought her happiness for a short moment of her life, Raven felt that feeling again when she had broken the witch’s enchantment on her lips. It felt peaceful and warmth almost, just like when she had been visited by that strange woman cloaked in white. Without even knowing it herself Raven whispered;

“Azarath… Metrion… Zinthos.”

A dark purple circle suddenly appeared on the ground around them. As more cracks were heard from the cave’s ceiling, she saw some stalactites break, coming down rapidly targeting them. The circle then emitted dark looking shadows that looked like black tentacles wrapping around Raven and her friends. She closed her eyes waiting for their death but then opened them and looked at Damian. If she were to die, she wanted to see him one last time. Then they were all engulfed by shadows.

#damirae week 2021 #damirae #beauty and the beast au #Damian Wayne #raven roth #raven and robin #raven and damian #damian and raven

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heybeybey · 3 years

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Kismet

Braindumped this yesterday so now you have this fic.

Thanks to @sleeperswakewriting and @anya-grace. They didn't really push me to write this. It's more like 2 people liked the idea and I'm weak for Rivetra so here you go.

Still dedicating this to the two of you for supporting my need for lolo (grandpa) levi + roller skating petra!! 🖤🧡

Pairing: Rivetra | Levi x Petra

Genre: Fluffy romance!!! Tooth-rotting fluff so sweet that I'm gonna write heartbreaking angst next to balance things out.

Summary: The ginger-haired waitress skates over to him, her pink skirt a flurry behind her. She stops beside his table and gives him a disarming smile. "Welcome to Kismet Diner! What will you be having today, sir?"

Okay, so this diner wasn't a shitty choice after all.

Or: 50s Diner Waitress! Petra x Retired Soldier! Levi Modern AU

[Also, if you wanna listen to the songs Levi was forced to listen to in this fic, here's the playlist.]

Sweeter than candy on a stick Huckleberry, cherry or lime If you had a choice he'd be your pick But lollipop is mine

If he's going to listen to another most-likely-already-dead-woman belt out a cheery love song, Levi's sure he's going to finally pop a vein. He grumbles as the next track plays, grateful that this one is more on the mellow side so he can actually focus on his work.

Old school music on loop aside, Kismet Diner is actually pretty decent. They serve good food for an establishment that he thinks is trying way too hard to be a blast-from-the-past monstrosity.

Levi found the place by accident when he was out trying to find a place to work. He didn't feel like spending another evening inside his apartment and thought a change in scenery might help him decompress his mind.

Fucking codes just won't write itself, he thinks.

After wheeling himself around his new neighbourhood for a while, he found that this diner was the only thing open. Having no other choice, he found a spot for himself and settled in with his laptop.

He didn't expect that he'll be returning every night though.

(And that he'd be willing to listen to these cheesy retro love songs every time.)

From behind his laptop, he sneaks another glance at the bubbly server.

He distinctly remembers his first night here. A ginger-haired waitress skated over to him, her pink skirt a flurry behind her, as he settles in his chosen seat. She stopped beside his table and gave him a disarming smile. "Welcome to Kismet Diner! What will you be having today, sir?"

Okay, so this diner wasn't a shitty choice after all, he recalls thinking at that time.

It took him a moment or two to finally answer her and she diligently noted down his order. She flashed him one last smile after she promised that she'll bring his food over in five minutes.

He spent those five minutes feeling like a real creep because his eyes never left her.

It's been a few days since then and he watches her now as she picks up the leftovers from the table in front of his. She wishes a customer goodbye, and skates back to the counter.

"Petra! Think you can extend your shift a little bit? Rico called in sick," a voice from the counter calls out.

"Sure! Her shift's until 1 am right?" The ginger, Petra, replies.

And that's how Levi found himself staying at Kismet Diner until 1 am.

- - -

I laughed at love 'cause I thought it was funny You came along and you moved me honey I've changed my mind, this love is fine

"I think the customers like this song but I can't seem to place what the title is..." The rush hour has since lulled when Petra wonders out loud to the other waitress who's still in the kitchen.

He remembers this one. The older guys back in the military would belt it out when they're drunk as fuck on days when they're allowed to have a break. Frankly, it gave him a headache every time and he doesn't know how Erwin and all the other soldiers were able to take Pyxis seriously after his one-man concert.

He speaks up without thinking.

"Great Balls of Fire by Jerry Lee Lewis."

"Yes, that's the title!" Her eyes light up and she fully spins to face him. "You're into oldies music?"

Levi blinks, and for the first time in his life, he found his throat dry because she's finally talking to him fuck fuck fuck what will he say what was the question again.

"Uh... yeah, I guess?"

Wait, what?

She skates over to his table, a wide smile on her face. "That's so cool! I don't meet a lot of people my age who's still into the oldies. Even my dad teases me about it."

"Oh..."

"What's your name? I'm Petra, by the way. But I think you already know that," she grins sheepishly, pointing to her name plate. "I know I shouldn't really be talking to you but you're here every night so I thought it might be great to get to know our regular customers more."

He blinks up to her, trying to get a hold of himself before he fucks this up even more.

"Levi."

"Nice to meet you, Levi." She looks at her wristwatch and her surroundings, probably checking if there are more tables to cater to, before turning back to him. "My shift's over but I think you stay up late here, right? Mind if I sit with you? I haven't eaten dinner yet and I'd appreciate the company."

He gives her a shrug as his approval and she beams another smile before disappearing back to the kitchen. Petra comes back after a few minutes, still in her pink waitress uniform but without the cap and she also changed her skates to normal cream flats. She brought along a small bag and she unpacks it after sitting down at the chair in front of him.

What the hell is happening?

"Don't get me wrong. I love the food here but it's a bit overpriced if you ask me," she says as brings out her lunchbox. "Don't tell Nanaba that though."

"Wouldn't your boss fire you for randomly inviting yourself at a customer's table?"

"Nanaba? We go way back high school. She's the one who's pushing me to take breaks actually."

They sit in silence for awhile after that. Levi watches as she munches on her sandwich while he takes another sip of his coffee. Not knowing what to say, he just turns back to his laptop to type away. Petra, on the other hand, seems like a great conversationalist.

"So... what's your favorite?" She speaks up after having few bites into her dinner.

"Favorite?"

"Song? There's a lot of classics that deserve attention but I'm curious which one caught your attention."

Fuck.

His mind comes up blank until the image of his blonde best friend came to mind. Erwin knows about this old school shit. Not surprising because he's more ancient than Levi is.

What was that song Eyebrows belted out again when they went on that dreaded karaoke night? He recalls Erwin singing something after his cheating long-distance girlfriend finally broke up with him when they were allowed to call their loved ones.

"Mr. Lonely by Bobby Vinton stuck with me." He replies, again without thinking. She laughs out loud the moment the words were out his mouth and Levi frowns in indignation. "Oi, if you're going to laugh at my shitty taste in music then you can get your ass off my table."

"No, no." Petra wipes away a tear from her laughing. "I think it fits your grumpy 'get-off-my-lawn' grandpa vibe. What, someone broke your heart recently?"

"Grumpy grandpa?" Pretty smile and bubbly personality aside, he's starting to think this woman's a bit rude.

- - -

He's still back the next day though.

"Good evening, sir! Will you be having the usual?" Petra greets. He gives her a slight nod before wheeling himself to his spot. He watches as she flurries around during the dinner rush hour, skating from one table to another. She never loses her smile, even when one lady was being a bitch after Petra delivers the wrong milkshake.

Unlike the previous nights where he's content with just sneaking glances at the gorgeous waitress, Levi spends the next few hours gathering the courage to make a move.

Petra stayed in his table until closing time last night and he listened as she babbled on about all their menu offerings and how she likes creating the milkshakes and the coffee the best.

He'd like to think that they're somehow acquainted enough for him to maybe ask her out.

A look a-there, here she comes There comes that girl again Wanted to date her since I don't know when But she don't notice me when I pass

The booming music is only making him nervous, the cheesy lyrics is pissing him off and fuck, he really wants to punch the music player off right now.

Once Petra finally skates over to him though, setting down his usual black coffee and clubhouse sandwich, he takes his chance.

"Are you free tomorrow night?"

"Sir?" She blinks at him and he almost melts as he stares at her huge amber eyes.

"Uhm... you mentioned that you have Fridays off," he starts. "There's this fair that will be opening tomorrow night and I thought you might be into that. First day's the best time to go too while the crowd hasn't shit on the place yet."

The more he hears his words, the more he wants to kick himself with his still working leg.

He notices that a faint blush started to color her cheeks, eyes shifting down before she gives him a shy smile.

"I'd love to go with you, Levi."

- - -

"Wow, you..."

"Were able to hit them all?" He gears up to shoot the last can. "I was in the military."

"No wonder you have that cool scar!"

His eyes darkens a little bit at that, mind taking him back to the career-ending moment that led to where he is now.

Petra seems to notice his reaction. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"It's fine. It's been almost a year." He cuts her off. This day's supposed to be fun and he's not allowing his PTSD to take over his chances of charming a girl (which was already low at his current state, he thinks).

"That's amazing, son!" The guy manning the booth approaches him. "Feel free to pick any prize for the lady."

Petra looks down to him for approval, asking if she can pick a prize or if he'd rather pick one since it was him who won after all. He gives her a small smile, gesturing towards the display of prizes.

He watches as Petra buzzes around in excitement, deciding on whether she should get the elephant plushie or this creepy clown plushie that caught her attention for some godforsaken reason. (He pushes her to get the elephant one instead.)

I've got sunshine on a cloudy day When it's cold outside I've got the month of May I guess you'd say What can make me feel this way

"Vanilla is still the best."

"You're boring," she retorts. "How can you only try mint chocolate just once in your life? You get refreshing and sweet dark chocolate at the same time. It's the best combination out there!"

"Yeah, if you like eating your toothpaste," he retorts back.

"Come on, just give it a chance?"

They're settled on a bench right now, his wheelchair parked next to the seat. They take this opportunity to have a conversation while they finish their ice cream.

He learns that she's currently finishing up a nursing degree and that she's working part-time at Kismet Diner to fund her studies. She has an obsession with mint chocolate ice cream, and that she truly loves skating outside of work because she also does roller derby on the weekends (with her boss Nanaba and another girl named Nifa). She's an only child and her dad currently lives in the countryside.

Levi tells her a little bit about himself too and he's glad that she respects his reserved nature. He doesn't tell her about his time in the military, only that he used to be a captain for a few years before he left. He also shared that he used to pursue a degree in Computer Science before dropping out halfway through to join the military. Since he left, his unfinished degree has been useful since he was able to find consistent freelance opportunities as a web developer.

That seems like the perfect job for someone who's anti-social as you, she notes and he gives her an unamused look.

He also finds out that he's actually ten years older than her, and he feels even more like an old man at that moment.

"Hey, I like your grumpy grandpa vibe," she teases him.

"You'd get along with Gabi and Falco."

"Who? Are they your kids?" Her eyes lights up when she takes note of his fond tone before it starts to narrow in suspicion. "You're not married are you?"

"What? Hell no. My hair would probably be gray now if they were." He says. "They're my neighbours. Both... what? 13 I think? They wouldn't stop pestering me since I moved into the complex a few months ago. Those two brats also won't stop calling me grandpa. Do I really look that old?"

"I'd say it's because of the wheelchair but it's actually your scowl that completes the look," she replies with a cheeky smile.

When they're done with their ice cream, Petra rolls him around while he holds on to her big-ass elephant plushie for her. He'd know she's excited about a booth in particular when he feels his wheelchair move faster towards their destination.

Throughout the night, she won them a bag of lollipops once and Petra insists he takes them home to Gabi and Falco. He, on the other hand, was surprised that his military background would be useful for something as useless as carnival games. His fast reflexes and sharp eye bagged them a few more wins, with the last game earning them a free popcorn.

- - -

Before they capped off the night, Petra (the retro lover that she is) led him to a nearby jazz club that she visited once. She insisted that it's on the way home so why not drop by? The atmosphere is more chill than Levi expected so at least he didn't have to listen to another upbeat bubblegum retro track.

"Come dance with me?" She says after a moment of watching the couples on the small dance floor.

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm on a wheelchair for a reason."

"We can work around it." Ever the optimist, she leans down to try and help him stand up. "Lean yourself on me. I'll support you throughout."

Levi obliges, placing all of his weight on his working left leg while trusting the rest to Petra. He has his arms around and he tries to start moving with her.

He almost slips as he takes another step and in frustration, he attempts to sit down instead. "It's no use Petra-"

Petra's hold on him tightened. "Just trust me a little more Levi."

He sighs, attempting to stand again. They do find the right balance and rhythm on the second try and Levi breathes out in relief.

Soon, they're swaying to the music and Levi couldn't remember the last time he was upright like this, except for when he has to drag himself around with his crutch in the mornings.

Put your lips next to mine, dear Won't you kiss me once, baby? Just a kiss goodnight, maybe You and I will fall in love

"Petra?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm not really into oldies music."

"I know. I realized that when you only kept mentioning the famous hits."

"Huh."

"I actually cringed when you said you liked Mr. Lonely."

"Shut up." She giggles at that and they finally sway in companionable silence, taking in the slow beat.

When the music stops, Petra reaches up to him, placing a kiss on his cheek. He feels his face warm up, throat bobbing as he stares dumbly at her.

"Thanks for tonight, Levi." - - -

Levi goes back to Kismet Diner the next day, and the day after that. He's there every night and she's always the one who takes and serves his order.

He'd accompany her as she eats her late-night dinner on his table and he sometimes brings her some cookies he baked that morning. Nanaba would throw Petra a smirk here and there whenever she serves his table or when Petra clocks off to have dinner with him.

"Your captain's here," he once heard the taller woman whisper to Petra once the door closes to signal his entrance.

Levi would order the same black coffee and clubhouse combination that Petra eventually offered him to try other things on the menu. "Come on, it's on the house! Why can't you just try other options?"

Love me tender, love me sweet Never let me go You have made my life complete And I love you so

One morning three months into getting to know each other, Levi wakes up feeling contentment wash over him when he smells that she's brewing his usual order from his own apartment kitchen.

Petra enters his room beaming a few minutes later, black coffee and a plate of pancakes in each hand. He distinctly notes that she's playing her retro love songs on loud speaker again and he's long since given up on stopping her.

She leans down to place his breakfast on the side table and she starts peppering kisses from his scarred cheek up to the affected blind eye.

"Good morning Levi!" He wholeheartedly accepts both the breakfast and the kisses, hooking his arm around her waist and cuddling closer to her as he sits up in bed.

He takes her in and finds that he slightly misses the pink uniform and roller skates she dons while she serves him at the diner... but he won't deny that he definitely prefers seeing her draped in nothing but his slightly oversized white shirt instead. "Morning."

🧡🧡🧡🧡 ehehe send fic requests here if you'd like

#rivetra #levi x petra #rivapeto #levitra #petra x levi #levi ackerman #petra ral #lolo levi #skater petra #rivetra fic #rivetra fanfic #rivetra fanfiction

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alia-turin · 3 years

Text

Hey I finished it! There is sense of accomplishment in my life now.

Thank you all for reading I APPRICIATE truly all your comments and likes. Also canon gets thrown overboard because of reasons.

Fic Title: Somewhere in Time: Chapter 11

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 , 9 , 10

Rating: Explicit Fandom: The Witcher Relationship: Caranthir Ar-Feiniel/Original Female Character(s) \

AO3 Link

Caranthir smiled as he watched the ice break the human ships, soldiers falling overboard and crashing against the ice, their blood painting splashes of red all over. Humans screamed so desperately when they were hitting the cold water, the frost killing them before they could even realize what was going on. He pulled from his energy, bringing more snow and wind, almost intolerable even for him.

“I wish I could fight them.” Imlerith groaned next to him. He had walked from his bed using his mace as support refusing help. He was in bad shape and did not want Caranthir to heal him further. Didn’t matter, all would be over soon and he was out of danger now.

“If your guts spill out, I am not patching you up.” Caranthir warned not even looking at the other man. He focused now on finding the girl or that Witcher - didn’t even matter, either one would help him locate the other, but then he suddenly stopped. He sensed something he shouldn’t be sensing. That couldn’t be right. The ice growth and the ship cracking stopped. The wind went silent. All he could hear was the sounds of battle, humans screaming and dying, hounds howling…that ring he had left with Aine...why could he feel it here?

“Ran out of magic?” Imlerith asked mockingly behind him, but Caranthir was too focused to even acknowledge him. He must be losing his mind. Maybe he was too tired, maybe he had been tapping on his own power too much in the past days, with the attack on the Witchers, saving Eredin, saving Imlerith, keeping the Hunt here, his own dream trips...did he finally go too far and his mind was playing tricks on him.

Caranthir opened a portal getting himself closer to where he thought that feeling was coming from, he found himself in the middle of a small human unit. They all stopped for a second, confused at what had just occurred, but his attention was somewhere else. Meters away on the coast he saw Avallac’h, the Witcher, a Sorceress and...no. That couldn’t be. The human soldiers attacked him and he did short work of them, while moving toward the coast, his steps leaving a bloody trail after him.

“Let her go Avallac’h.” Caranthir finally said, as his gaze stopped at Aine. The Witcher was holding her arm twisted behind her back, as soon as she saw him she tried to struggle but that just caused her pain. The man told her something, it did not sound threatening but Caranthir had turned deaf, the only thing he was focused on was his anger and the next words that would come out of Avallac’h’s mouth.

“How about a deal?” his teacher smiled and Caranthir could feel the ice behind him growing, ripping through ships and flesh, he wasn’t even sure he did that consciously. “You should control yourself.”

“I’m not your student, I’m not your son, let her go and I might even kill you quickly.” His eyes moved between the three of them. He had no doubt he could take the sorceress and the witcher easy. Avallac’h was a different matter, but taking any of them and keeping Aine out of harm’s way was where he could fail. He wanted Avallac’h to attack him, once and for all their struggle will be resolved.

“You were right, he is arrogant.” the dark haired woman said. Caranthir was going to show her arrogance.

“Caranthir, stop your spell, ask Eredin to stop his attack, I need to talk to him.” Avallac’h was focused, serious, the Navigator heard his words, but did not really listen. His mind was preoccupied thinking of how he would end all three of them. “Caranthir stop that!”

Something changed in his mentor’s voice and at first he could not understand what. All their expressions had changed, The Witcher loosened his grip on Aine and reached for his sword, the sorceress was preparing a spell, Avallac’h’s face was something between disgust and surprise. Caratnthir however had no idea what was going on. He wasn’t doing anything. He turned around, slowly, not fully losing sight of them and then he saw it. Corpses of the soldiers he had just walked through had raised, despite blood and broken bones and they moved toward them.

“It is not me who is doing that.” Caranthir smiled and looked at Aine. She was focused, serious. Red hair falling over her shoulders like a waterfall of blood. He could see it was hard for her to maintain the spell...no wonder, it was a difficult spell, she had failed with something simpler once, but this time she did it. It wasn’t just one body she was controlling, it was a number of them. He started laughing as he could hear the dead soldier’s footsteps in the snow. Figures. He wondered if necromancy was something she was good at because of him, or she actually had affinity to it. Destiny was playing with him, the one woman who would accept him would be also the one who can raise the death. Maybe that is what he had seen in her so many weeks ago. He was a corpse and she had revived him.

Avallac’h was the first to figure it out, he weaved a spell and broke Aine’s link with the corpses. That was expected, he was more powerful than her and she was far from being able to fully control that. Caranthir heard the bodies collapse behind him. He could see Aine exhaling; she was tired, that was too much for her. Despite her gift, she was too inexperienced, she might have been able to move her small squad of dead soldiers to herself, but she would never be able to withstand Avallac’h and the human sorceress. Didn’t matter, he could.

The sorceress pulled a dagger and pressed it against Aine’s throat. Caranthir grinded his teeth.

“We don’t have time for that.” the woman said. “Bring your king here or she dies”

Caranthir looked at Aine, mismatching eyes tired, pleading with him. For what? To save her? To leave her? Didn’t matter, he could not do either. Then again, if he had Eredin here that was an easier fight. Eredin could deal with the pestering humans while he finally showed Avallac’h he was no longer a child.

“I know someone who would love to collect your skull.” he pointed with his staff at her and then opened a portal. He waited, his eyes on Aine’s as she was looking at him as well, relying on him, but all he could muster right now was anger. He would destroy them all if it came to that and he won’t even hesitate.

Eredin stepped out of the portal, Caranthir didn’t even need to look at him, he could hear and feel.

“Amusing.” the king eventually said as he stepped out of the portal. Caranthir could feel his whole body needing to move, almost shaking in anticipation, he wasn’t going to tell Eredin what to do but he surely knew what he wanted to do. “I assume I’m somehow supposed to be moved because your sorceress is holding a knife at Caranthir’s toy?” his tone was flat.

“I don’t want us to fight. Any of us.” Avallac’h finally said. “Me and you can solve that, we can talk. Our people have lost enough through the years.”

“Some of us more than others.” Eredin smirked and Carathir could see Avallac’h being taken aback. Was that attempt to push him overboard or just agreeing with him? “Someone once told me that only losers want to negotiate to avoid the inevitable.”

“How about kings who want to save their people?” when Avallac’h said that Caranthir had to turn toward Eredin. What was he even doing? Why was he talking? They could kill all three of them now, find the girl and be done forever. “It doesn’t matter if you lose or I lose - the Aen Elle need both of us. You cannot achieve what you need without me.”

“Eredin…” Caranthir started impatiently but the king raised his hand and the Navigator bit his lip under the helmet. His teeth sank in the tender skin of his scar and he could taste his own blood.

“Entertain me, Crevan.” Eredin made a gesture with his hand showing Avallac’h that he will indulge.

Aine watched as Avallac’h and the king walked away, somewhere behind the rest of them. Her mind was still dizzy from the spell he had put on her, she didn’t even know how or where he had dragged her but given that Caranthir was her she could make accurate assumptions. Her attempt at a spell had exhausted her even further and now everything around her was just a blur. As soon as the two men walked away she saw Caranthir take off his helmet, his hair a mess as it fell over his shoulders, a line of blood running down his chin but he cleared it with his hand.

“What bit your face off?” the sorceress mocked. In other circumstances Aine would get angry on his behalf but she was too exhausted even to turn her head toward the human female.

Caranthir did not respond; he started pacing like a wild animal that had been put in a cage, the mountains of ice behind him growing even larger.

“Caranthir...please...stop.” she wasn’t sure what or why she was asking that, but she could feel she had pushed herself too far. It was the spell. She had used too much of her own energy to bring these corpses to life and that had not achieved anything. She used all she got, for nothing. He had warned her, using too much power that you can’t control was deadly. Surely she was just dramatic now, it wasn’t that bad...it wasn’t that much energy. It had been easy for her to raise the bodies, almost too easy. She did not even feel how much of her strength it had used, not at first at least, now...that was a different story.

She felt a shortness of breath, her chest felt tight and her whole body jerked, the human was still holding her arm but it didn’t matter, she could not control that despite the pain and the feeling he would break her arm if she pulled a bit more. She coughed, red drops hit the snow. At first she did not realize what happened but only when she could taste the salt in her mouth she figured that it was blood - her own blood. The pressure from her arm suddenly disappeared and she could feel herself falling forward, her knees hit the snow first, wetness and chill crawling through her dress but she could barely feel it.

“What did you do?” she heard Caranthir’s growl and she saw him rushing toward her.

Caranthir almost teleported himself to her, he saw the sorceress getting ready for attack but he used a spell to push her and the Witcher away. The woman seemed angry and he could sense her getting a spell ready, let her, he was going to send her back to the hole she came from, but the man grabbed her wrist to stop her and Caranthir moved his attention ignoring them.

He pulled Aine closer to himself, her breathing was slow, she had no strength, the spell was too much for someone as inexperienced as she was.

“I’m sorry…” even her voice barely reached his ears. “He told me that you are in danger and then…”

“It doesn’t matter.” he interrupted her. It really didn’t matter. An hour from now it might matter when he could finally take it out on Avallac’h but now it didn’t really matter. “You shouldn’t have done that. It was stupid.” That was not what he meant to say, why was he so bad with words. Every time he wanted to say something nice it came out the wrong way. He had to tell her that he was sorry, it was his fault she was here in the first place, it was his fault he was teaching her stuff way above her level but he never thought she would have to use them. Not now, not in the near future or ever for that matter.

“I’m sorry…” she said again and he was angry at himself for making her feel as if there was something to apologize for. He placed his hand at the base of her throat, he could barely feel any life in her. “You shouldn’t have to save me every time.”

“No.” Caranthir pressed against her collarbones, healing could not fix that, she was not injured. He had no idea if passing some of his strength to her would do anything but he had to try. He knew he had been very generous with how much magic he had been using, but just a bit more...he had never done that before. In theory it should be possible, what was the difference between that and using his power to light a fire or move an object? Just a bit, enough to get her on her feet and then her body should be able to figure it out. His chest felt tight, not from effort although he could feel his one strength running low, but that just could not be happening to him again. He was not going to lose someone else like that, because of him...if it wasn’t for him Avallac’h would have never brought her here. He would not forgive Avallac’h for that, but he would not forgive himself either this time...

He got dizzy and as much as he wanted to continue that he had to stop. Both of them death would not help anyone. He could see Eredin and Avallac’h coming from wherever they had been, but his attention was down on Aine. Some color had started coming back to her skin which he considered a good sign. He saw Eredin raising an eyebrow, and Caranthir became very self aware at that moment. He was kneeling holding Aine in his arms, that was probably the most affection he had ever shown publicly to anyone. He cleared his throat getting up through his own pain and weakness pretending nothing happened.

“We are done here.” Eredin said as he passed him, barely looking at him.

Caranthir looked at his king’s back then at Avallac’h who was standing a few meters away close to the witcher and the sorceress. He had Aine a hand helping her up, but his eyes were fixed on his teacher.

“Caranthir, let’s go.” Eredin had stopped and looked at him. “It’s over, we are done.”

It wasn’t over for him. He couldn’t care less about what Eredin and Avallac’h had discussed, agreed or simply ignored each other. He had a score to settle with his teacher and he was not going to turn his back on that now.

“Listen to him, Caranthir.” Aine’s eyes were fixed on Caranthir, her fingers digging in his armor trying to find balance and not fall in the snow. She was freezing because the clothes she was wearing were not made for that weather and she was cold from the snow’s wetness.

“No.” Caranthir said she could almost hear his teeth grinding as he spoke. “I would turn you back to that pathetic creature but this time there will be no turning back.” She had no idea what he was talking about, but she somehow doubted he could do anything. He looked tired, strong, focused, but also exhausted.

“Caranthir, let’s go.” she pulled on his arm but he ignored her, she had no idea if he even felt it.

“There are more important things than your ego.” Avallac’h said and she could hear the king laughing somewhere behind.

“You of all people should have not brought her here.” Caranthir finally said. “You know very well how dangerous that is. You know what it could do to the body.”

“How about saving your life? That good enough of a reason?” Avallac’h offered.

“Caranthir…” Aine started, the words barely coming out of her throat, she could not muster anything louder than that. “He saw your death. That is why he brought me here.”

“He saw nothing.” Caranthir was not looking at her at all. His angry eyes were just fixed somewhere else.

“Let’s go.” She saw Eredin standing behind them, his hand on Caranthir’s shoulder. “The Aen Elle needs him alive.”

Caranthir sat in Eredin’s cabin. Everything hurt, his mind was wondering and it was hard to focus on the conversation. He was doing his best to get them back to Tir na Lia without killing them all in the process...or killing himself for that matter. He had left Aine in his cabin; she had almost collapsed as soon as he left her on the bed. He needed sleep as well. A week of sleep probably would do. Imlerith was sitting on the chair next to him picking on one of his smaller wounds, Eredin behind his desk rocking in his chair.

“So it was all for nothing?” Imlerith finally asked.

“Not for nothing.” Eredin concluded, both of their voices sounded as if they were somewhere far away, in different a room, never mind they were both just meters away from him. There was a faint smile on his lips. “However, he was right...I cannot achieve what I want while being...well me.”

“So what he just agreed to let you rule over the Aen Elle in exchange of…?” Imlerith asked.

“No...that’s not how this works. He and I will work together.” Eredin didn’t say anything more than that and just smiled. Caranthir had millions of questions there and then but nothing could come out of his mouth. He squeezed his eyes, they were almost at Tir na Lia. Good. “Caranthir!” That was the last thing he heard.

He woke up, took him a moment to recognize the place. It was his room in Tir na Lia and he was in his bed. He must have lost consciousness. Too much energy was used to bring them back to Tir na Lia. He tried to move but his whole body protested against that. It wasn’t pain, more like the feeling of not moving for a very long period of time.

“You are awake!” Aine's voice came somewhere to the right of him. He turned his head in that direction. Her hair was a mess, falling over her shoulders. She looked as if she had spent days next to his bed.

“How…” his voice scratched his throat he was thirsty. She immediately reached to the bedside table and passed him a glass of water. He almost choked as he drank it, but it felt so good. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Three days.” she reached for his face and her fingers touched his scared cheek. At first he tried to pull away but the warmth of her skin was too alluring. “Caranthir, I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have been there, but he came here, he told me you were in danger. He wanted me to come and convince you to...I’m not even sure what.” Her words were coming too fast out of her mouth, but he actually did not care what she was saying; he just looked at her face, her lips moving, her eyes pleading with him. “I said no, I thought that would mean to betray you, and then he just did something and took me to that place and...I’m sorry, I feel like if I had said yes, none of that would have happened.”

He placed his finger on her lips to silence her. The words stopped coming out of her mouth but he could still see the distress.

“You were going to do whatever Avallac’h wanted you to do, no matter if you wanted it or not. He gave you a choice to make you feel better about it, but you were always going to end up there.” Her gaze softened as if she just needed to hear that. He took a deep breath. It felt nice to be able to fill his own lungs with air without feeling pain. “Come here.” he placed his hand on the empty spot next to him and she climbed on the bed next to him, her small body curling next to his. “That won’t happen again, I promise.”

“Doesn’t matter.” she responded. “You are alive and okay, that is what matters.”

Caranthir opened and closed his mouth. He had no idea what to say to that. Nobody ever cared so much about him or at least it was never shown. Part of him wanted to push her away. Tell her to leave him so he can drown himself in his loneliness and self pity, the same feelings he had been swimming in for more than a hundred years. However, he couldn’t deny the fact that he liked it, the warmth, not just physical, but what he felt inside.

“Do you want to leave?” he finally said and she pushed herself up, her hair falling over his body. Mismatching eyes looking at him in confusion. “I’m serious. Your life has been in danger twice now because of me and I'm a lousy teacher.”

“You just said that won’t happen again.” she smiled. Was she mocking him. Throwing his own insecurity in his face. “I think I’m fine where I am.” she curled closer to him, placing her head on his chest.

She couldn’t see it but he smiled. He had to get to Eredin, check on Imlerith, check on his men, figure out what had happened with Avallac’h...that could wait. He was enjoying the moment too much.

#my writing

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write-orflight · 4 years

Text

Like Real People Do. (Spencer x Reader)

Chapter 1

*Gif not mine*

Prologue Chapter 2

Rating: M, eventually will be smut.

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: regular CM crime stuff. brief mentions of previous assault. vomit.

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

A.N Thanks for the love on the Prologue, message to be added to taglist. much love Cia

Chapter 1: However scary

You start to follow Hotch outside his office, barely containing the smile on your face. You couldn’t help it, the job you’ve been dreaming about for a decade was yours now. As you left the office, you couldn’t help but notice the short Italian man exiting his.

“Rossi?” You smiled. The man in question turned and grinned upon seeing you.

“Bella!” He opened his arms to hug you which you automatically accepted.

“I thought you retired, old man.”

Rossi scoffed. “You know me, can’t stay away for long.” Hotch stepped up, joining you guys. “So am I correct in assuming you’ve taken the job?” Rossi asks.

“You would be correct.” You smile. “And now, since I have a big girl job and can take care of myself. I’m hoping those mysterious money drops into my bank account will stop.” You gave him a knowing look. Though you and Rossi were not as close as you and Hotch, you still revered him as a father figure as much as he did you a daughter.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He says holding up his hands.

“Sure you don’t, old man.” You laughed. “How’s… Krystal?” You say trying to remember which wife Rossi was on now.

“Divorced.” Rossi smirks.

“Aw, I’m sorry, Dave. I thought 3 would be the lucky number.”

“So did I.” Rossi smiled. “How’s Persephone?” David smiles widely at the mention of your adoptive mother's name.

“Still not interested in becoming number 4.” You laughed, inducing a boisterous laugh from Dave and a small chuckle from Hotch. “She’s currently backpacking through India and building eco houses along the way.”

“Sounds like Persephone.” David smiles. You guys continue to catch up for a couple of more minutes not noticing the team staring up at you from the bullpen.

“Do you guys know who she is?” Emily asks

“No but Rossi and Hotch know her by the looks of it.” Derek replies.

“I met her in the elevator.” Spencer speaks up. “Her name’s Y/N.”

“Wonder what she's doing here.” Derek says as Penelope walks up with a tin of her famous cookies that Spencer is already reaching for. She pulls back so it’s out of reach from his perch on his desk.

“Well, if she took the job then that is your newest team member.” Penelope smiled. “Hotch asked me to do a background check last week so I assume he’s hiring her. Which means these cookies are for her.” She says pulling even more back as Spencer continues to make grabby hands at the tin.

“Why does she get cookies her first day? I didn’t get any on my first day.” Spencer points out, not caring how much he sounds like a child.

“I’m not really allowed to talk about it, but let’s just say I think she could really use the kindness.”

“What did you find out about her, Baby girl?” Derek asked.

Penelope frowns slightly, she never liked keeping secrets, especially from the team. “I’m really not allowed to say, but what I can tell you is that she’s smart, like really smart. Maybe not Reid’s level but smart enough to make dean's list at an Ivy League every year.”

“Which school?” Spencer asks.

“Stanford.”

Spencer nods. That would make her pretty smart, that or just good at school. As he’s exiting his thoughts, JJ walks past them, throwing a “We have a case.” Over her shoulder before heading to Rossi, Hotch and the new girl.

We all begin filing into the conference room, Rossi, Hotch and Y/N walking in last. Hotch clears his throat. “This is Agent Y/L/N.” He says gesturing at you. “She will be joining us this case. I’m sure you guys will get around to formal introductions later.” Hotch says before taking a seat nodding at JJ to start. You hold up your hand in a small wave before taking a seat next to Hotch. Everyone else regards you with a small nod except a brightly dressed blonde woman who excitedly waves back at you.

“We’re heading to Nashville.” A blonde woman, you assume, is JJ says pulling up images of victims on the screen. You swallowed the lump in your throat, you were used to crime scene photos, you studied several in the FBI academy but kids would always get to you. “3 boys ages 10-13 all have gone missing on their way home from school, all found 5 days later buried arms across chest, heads shaved.”

“Signs of remorse are obviously there but the hair...is something different.” A dark haired woman pointed out.

“Could be trichophilia.” You pointed out. Everyone looked at you, you cleared your throat under the scrutiny. “Trichophilia. It’s the fetishzation of hair.” You provide. Everyone nods and JJ continues to provide information on the case before Hotch announces wheels up in 30. You go to grab your files and notebook when the brightly dressed blonde woman ambushes you a tin fully extended to you.

“Hi, I’m Penelope Garcia, and these are for you!” practically shoving the tin into your hands.

“Thank you, I’m Y/N.” You smiled, you weren’t really a sweets person but you weren’t going to turn down the kindness. A brown skinned man and the dark haired woman from before walked up to you both.

“I’m Emily Prentiss, this is Derek Morgan” she says both holding their hands out for you to shake. You shuffle the cookies and files into one arm to shake hands with them.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You say back.

“So you seemed to already know Hotch?” Derek pointed out.

You had been prepared for someone to ask about that so you rattled off your prepared speech. “Yes, Hotch is a family friend.” That seemed like the easiest way to explain your relationship.

“So that’s how you were able to steamroll in here, huh? Friends with the boss?” The man laughs.

“No, I think it might’ve been one of my several degrees, merits or letters of recommendation, one of which from the director himself.” You point out. “Though I suppose knowing Aaron didn’t necessarily hurt things.”

Derek holds up his hands in surrender. “That could be true too. I guess we’ll see out on the field.” He says before him and Prentiss walk out.

You sigh heavily and start heading out the same way before a small voice pipes up behind you.

“They’ll come around.”

You turn your eyes onto the man you had met in the elevator before. “Sorry?”

“Morgan and Prentiss. They’ll come around, they acted like that towards me when I first started too. It’s-uh because you’re young.”

You nodded. He had a point and so did Morgan in a sense. You were very young, seemingly too young to be starting in a field like this. You knew it’d be hard to believe Hotch didn’t pull some strings for you.

“I knew my age would probably raise some questions. But I worked really hard, and it sucks I have to prove myself 10x over just because of my age.”

“I understand.” He says, following you out of the conference room.

“I felt like you would. You introduced yourself as Dr. Reid before but we look around the same age.”

“Yes, I hold 3 doctorates.”

“Three?!” You said incredulously. “What were you like, eleven starting college?”

“12, actually.” He smiles. He has a nice smile, instantly crosses your brain. You dash that thought immediately.

“That would have to make you some sort of genius.”

“I believe there’s not quantifiable way to measure intelligence but I suppose by societal standards, I am. I have an IQ of 187.”

You let out a deep whistle. “And here I thought I’d be the smart one.” You laugh.

He fumbles a bit over his words. “I-I mean you still could be. L-Like I said, there’s no way to accurately measure intelligence.”

You laugh before rounding your new desk grabbing your go bag underneath it. “Thanks for the vote of confidence but we both know that’s not true.” You smile before turning to head towards the jet.

——————————————————

You and the team had been in Madison county for 4 days now and you were hitting a wall. The day you arrived there had been a 4th body found, same cause of death, same shaved head only this time the word HELP was carved into the boy’s back. You knew this was a part of the job, going to crime scenes and having to see bodies but you couldn’t stop the thoughts. His hands were on your neck again, his knife grazing your sides. You felt the bile rise up.

“Pull over.” You all but scream to Morgan he nods, zipping the car to the side of the road. You instantly hop out and release your lunch.

Morgan steps out and pats your back. “It’s alright, kid. First one’s never easy. Especially when it’s children.”

He thinks you’re sick from the crime scene You think. That’s probably for the best.

“Thanks.” You mumble. He nods as you guys wordlessly walk back to the SUV.

Since then you’ve been at the police station working on the geographical profile with Spencer. You know Morgan had probably said something to Hotch about your upchuck and that was why you were stuck here. But still, you couldn’t think to complain. Spencer was incredibly smart and great to work with.

“There’s something we’re missing.” He says off handedly. You nod agreeing. You take in the circle like pattern the unsub seemed to be going in. It didn’t make sense. You had profiled him as a socially awkward loner with an overbearing parent. He wasn’t good with adults but could somehow get kids to trust him. Enough to get into the car with him late at night. It hit you a second later.

“Oh my god.” You said scrambling for your phone to call Garcia. Spencer looks over at you, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

“You’ve reached your high priestess.” You hear Penelope’s voice come through the speaker.

“Hey Garcia, it’s Y/N.” You say. “Can you tell me what business is near the first dump site? I have an idea.”

You hear the faint sound of clacking as she finds the information for you. “Looks to be a bus lot.” You fought the urge to pump your fist in the air. You were right.

“Alright Garcia. I need a background check on all school bus drivers in Madison county, cross check it with anything that would fit the profile so minor stalking charges, assault…” you train off. “How long do you think that’ll take?” You ask.

“If I get started now, a couple hours.” She says. “Penelope out.” She says, hanging up.

You look up to see Spencer looking right back at you. “A bus driver.” You say smiling. “Think about it, everyday you ride the bus home from school and play outside with your friends until late. And when you're heading home your bus driver approaches you in his car offering to take you back. You have no reason not to trust him because he’s brought you home safely so many times before.” You explain, a brief frown grazing your lips. These children met an untimely demise all for trusting someone they were supposed to trust.

Spencer nods, taking in your words. “Good work,” he says. “You figured it out.”

You flushed under the high praise. “I’m sure you would’ve come to the same conclusion given more time.” You say.

“But I didn’t.” He says. “You did, and you probably saved another kid's life in the meantime.” He smiled and patted your shoulder before turning back to the board.

You looked at his back for a while. You knew since you stepped on the elevator that first time you were attracted to Spencer Reid. He was tall with a lean build and a nice set jaw and incredibly smart. You’d be lying to yourself if that wasn’t your exact type. But on top of all that, he was nice. Almost sickeningly so.

Suddenly you felt a lot more at risk than before.

————————————————

William Davison was arrested September 7th. You were right, he was a bus driver for Madison county. Police caught him in his car full of things that pointed him directly to the abductions.

You and the team were now back on the jet heading home. While the rest team was playing cards you opted to sit in the back. Textbooks laid out on the table as you tried to take notes from them. You were so engrossed. You didn’t see Spencer come take the seat in front of you.

“What’re you studying?” He asked.

You look up. “Uh, I’m in my doctoral program for psychology right now.” You say. “Right now, I’m working on an essay about nature vs. nurture effects on the killer's mind.”

“And what is your theory?” He asks.

“That while I do believe nurture plays a role somewhat, if someone has a predisposition to kill, hurt or maim that is something they are born with. Primates and to some effects humans are naturally empathetic creatures so I think people with the desire for violence are defects. Now even though that’s the case it’s still your own conscious decision to kill.” You say pausing. “Some people are born with natural predispositions they don’t follow all the time. Like your hands for instance.”

“What about my hands?” He inquired.

You swallow, clearing your throat. “Well you have fairly large hands, with l-long fingers.” You stutter. Nice going, Y/N. You think. Way to tell the guy you’re starting to develop a crush on that you’ve been staring at his hands. “In the primitive stage, that would’ve made you good at hunting and gathering. In a more modern sense, you’d be good at piano. Though I imagine, you don’t do either.” You say, already knowing the answer. You were a profiler now after all.

“No, I do not.” He smiled widely at you, he always appreciated intelligent conversation when it came by. “I disagree with your theory though.”

“Really? Why’s that?” You question. He begins to go on a long winded explanation why he thinks Nature vs. Nurture is outdated, taking several detours to talk about some other theories he’s found interesting. You watch him intensely taking in the words. You try to pay attention, you really do. But your eyes keep going back to the mouth the rapid words are coming out of and the hands that are also gesturing widely. You just had tuned back in when he suddenly stopped. You tilted your head at him.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“Nothing.” he says, looking mildly uncomfortable. “It’s just… no one lets me talk for this long.”

“Really?” You question, he nods. “Well, I was listening, I find it interesting. Actually…” you trail off picking up your pen, flipping to a new page in your notebook. “Do you mind if I write some of this down, might come in handy when I write my paper later.”

He nods enthusiastically as he continues his thoughts from before. You start writing fast now to keep up, interjecting here and there to ask him to expand on some stuff. Eventually the rest of the team drifts off until it's only the sound of his soft voice and the scratch of your pen filling the plane.

Taglist: @haylaansmi

#spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer x you #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #bau x reader #spencer x reader smut #spencer reid x reader smut

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