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andvys · 3 years

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bad idea / part 3

warnings: angst, violence, infected

pairing: Ellie Williams x reader

Staring into the mirror, Ellie couldn't help but hate her own reflection. She couldn't believe what words she has thrown at you, she was consumed by anger and jealousy when she saw you with Jesse.

She knew it was her fault, she was the one who pushed you away after your night together and she did it for Jesse.

She thought he liked you and she didn't want to come in between you but now she hated herself for pushing you away like that just so her friend could be happy.

But what about herself?

She never allowed herself to be happy.

She’d rather give her happiness away to someone than to keep it for herself.

She liked you, from the moment she saw you, it was like she found someone she’s been waiting for all this time and now you were gone again and it was her own fault.

You probably hated her and Ellie wouldn't blame you if you did, she hated herself for treating you like shit and insulting you like that.

“fuck.” she muttered to herself as she stared at herself in the mirror.

She wanted to apologize, to tell you that she is sorry, to tell you that she didn't mean what she said but she knew this wasn't the right time, she was the last person you wanted to see right now.

A few days went by since the incident outside the bar and you tried to avoid seeing any of those people that saw your interaction with Ellie, she humiliated you in front of them and as if it wasn't embarrassing enough you had to go on patrol with one of them.

He didn't laugh at you and he didn't bring it up either but it was still awkward, you were surprised that none of these guys gave you dirty looks or left bad comments after Ellie called you a slut, you were thankful for that but you still avoided being seen for a few days, only leaving the house to go on patrol or get some food. Luckily you haven't ran into Ellie either but that was about to change when you saw who you were paired up with for tomorrow’s patrol.

“you have got to be fucking kidding me.” you mumbled as you saw your name written on the board along with Ellie’s “fucking great.”

You didn't know that she was patrolling again, you thought she was still working at the cafe.

She was the last person you wanted to go on Patrol with, you didn't even know how you were going to look at her.

How were you going to spend a whole day with her after what happened?

You dreaded today and it came way quicker than you wanted it to. You couldn't even fall asleep last night, the thought of having to be around her for so long left you feeling uncomfortable.

You were mad at her but you were also hurt by her behavior but you wouldn't give her the satisfaction and let her see how much her words affected you.

As you arrived at the gates you saw her waiting for you already.

You saw her turn her head towards you causing you to look away, you didn't want to look at her, without sparing her a glance you got on top of your horse and made your way through the gates once they opened.

Ellie watched as you rode past her, completely ignoring her, she couldn't blame you, she would've reacted the same way if she was in your place.

Sighing, she knew this would be a long day.

“we’re supposed to check out the school.” Ellie said, pointing out to the big building.

“I know that.” You stated, rolling your eyes.

You were annoyed at her, all the way till here she was trying to talk to you but you brushed her off.

You pulled out your machete and walked past Ellie, making your way over to a window to take a peek inside before going in.

But Ellie went to the doors already and pulled them open, shaking your head in annoyance, you were mad at her already and she was just making things worse now.

She walked in without hesitation, you followed her inside.

“you couldn't have waited?” you asked, looking at her.

“for what exactly?” she asked, without sparing you a glance.

“uh to see if and how many infected there are..”

“we would have to take care of them anyways so we shouldn't waste our time.” she mumbled.

“whatever you say.” you responded, rolling your eyes before you took off into a different direction, not wanting to be around her any longer.

“where are you going?!” she asked, looking after you in concern.

“away from you.” you said, before walking around the corner to go and check out the cafeteria.

Ellie mumbled something under her breath before following you.

“oh fuck.” you mumbled as you spotted the dead body on the floor, behind the counter.

Ellie walked over to where you were standing and looked at you before looking at the dead guy. Scrunching up her face in disgust as she eyed him.

“shit.. that’s fresh.” she said, looking around the cafeteria she couldn't spot any other dead bodies, just this one.

“stay quiet and watch yourself.” she told you as she eyed your face.

“you watch yourself.” you grumbled, rolling your eyes at her before walking away, leaving her standing there.

Ellie stood back and watched you, shaking her head, she sighed before crouching down to inspect the dead guy some more.

The hallways were empty and quiet, no sight of infected or any other threat which was supposed to give you a feeling of relief but for some reason you felt uncomfortable and anxious.

Looking around, you spotted all the school trophies that were left behind, you walked over to the shelf, eying the pictures that were next to the trophies.

It saddened you to know that all these people used to have normal life’s and then all of the sudden the world turned to shit, causing most of the population to die and turn into these monsters.

The thought was sad but people like Ellie and you had it easier than them, you were born into this world, you knew no different world.

You were born to fight and to become killers.

It was natural to you.

Stepping away from the shelf, you turned around and walked towards one of the old classrooms.

You opened the door and gasped at the sight of clickers standing in the room, you didn't even hear the sounds coming from the classroom before you opened the door. You were about to close the door as they haven't heard you yet when you were suddenly tackled from the side by a runner.

You hit the ground as the runner made it’s way on top of you, you lost grip of your machete when you fell causing it to fall to the ground.

“fuck.” you grumbled as you tried to fight off the runner that was trying to scratch and bite you, the grunts coming from it alerted the clickers as they already started making their way towards the sound of your struggles.

Panic settled in your chest as you couldn't get ahold of your machete and the sight of clickers stumbling out of the classroom.

You had to react quickly or you would face death sooner than you thought you would. You held the runner’s neck away from you with one hand while you grabbed your knife from your belt and slit his throat, the blood spilling all over you as you turned away to avoid it covering your face.

Throwing him off you, you started crawling back looking at the clickers in panic as they were getting closer to you.

Suddenly you felt two hands pulling you up from behind.

“come on y/n!” Ellie grunted as she grabbed your hand, pulling you back.

Your eyes widened as you saw more clickers emerging from another room.

“fuck run!” you yelled at her, turning around you both started sprinting down the hallway, with the infected close behind you.

“in there!” Ellie yelled, opening the door she pushed you inside before running in shutting the door.

Both you and Ellie started barricading the door with anything you could find, you could hear the infected banging against the door, looking at the door in worry, you knew the barricade wouldn't last long.

Leaning against the wall, you closed your eyes, sighing, annoyed at yourself for being so careless.

“you okay?” Ellie asked, glancing at you, eying you in worry, hoping you didn't get bit.

“yeah.” you replied, almost scoffing, as if she cared.

You went over to the window and looked out, glad that you weren't on the upper floors, at least you wouldn't have to jump down and risk breaking any bones.

“so how should we do this? should we take care of it or come back with a group?” you asked turning around to look at her.

“there’s too many of them.” she said as she stared at you “we’re gonna come back with a group.”

Nodding, you opened the window and climbed out, waiting for Ellie to follow you as you looked around making sure there weren't any infected around.

Walking around the corner of the building you immediately retracted when you saw the clickers in the parking lot. They weren't there before, how did they get there?

Ellie almost bumped into you when you halted in your tracks, abruptly.

“what’s wrong?” she asked.

“clickers.” you mumbled, taking a peek around the corner of the building.

“shit.”

“they’re coming out of the school.” you mumbled, you were sure you closed the door when you walked inside earlier, this day was getting worse and worse.

“there are about 10 of them, we need to close the door, so more won’t come out.” you told her, going to grab your machete, when you realized you dropped it when you were tackled to the floor by that runner. “fuck..”

“what?” Ellie asked.

“I lost my machete.” you sighed.

“here take mine.” she said, pulling it out of her backpack, offering you to take it.

You looked at the machete before looking at her, noting the way she looked at you.

Her gaze was filled with regret but you wouldn't let it fool you, whether she was drunk that night or not, it didn't matter, she said what she thought about you, there was no reason for her to regret it now.

“thanks.” you mumbled as you grabbed it from her hand.

Ellie looked at you, hating how cold you were towards her, she deserved it but it still hurt. She wanted to make it right again but she didn't know how.

“alright.. we gotta close the door quickly before more come out.” Ellie said before walking around the corner “move quietly, they haven't heard us yet.”

Nodding your head, you started sneaking towards the entrance of the school, once you made it to the door, you closed it quietly and turned around.

“you ready?” Ellie asked you grabbing her bow off her back.

“yeah.”

You quickly took care of the few clickers that were roaming around. You hated to admit it but you and Ellie made a good team, you were both quick on your feet and you were quiet, none of the clickers were startled, meaning you handled the situation rather calmly.

Pulling the machete out of the clickers skull, you let it drop to the floor. Looking around impressed, you watched as Ellie collected her arrows.

The one clicker in front of you had one of her arrows sticking out, you bend down to pull it out and walked over to her, handing it to her, she looked at you before grabbing it, mumbling a quiet thanks.

Nodding at her, you wiped the machete clean before giving it to her.

“uh keep it.. at least till we’re back in Jackson.” she told you, staring at your face, looking like she wanted to say more but before she could you mumbled out a quiet okay and started to walk back to your horse.

“okay.” Ellie mumbled staring at you as you left, she nodded to herself before going after you.

You were surprised that Ellie hasn't tried to talk to you on the way back to Jackson. She would glance at you every now and then but wouldn't say anything.

You were glad she didn't, you still didn't want to talk to her.

You gave her back her machete once you brought your horses back to the stables.

She took it from your hands, her fingers brushing yours in the process, sending sparks through your body as you felt her touch again.

Your eyes snapped to hers before you retracted your hand from hers, turning around immediately you went to walk away before you remembered you haven't thanked her for saving your life back at the school.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath before turning around to look at her again.

She eyed you in curiosity as you stared at her unable to get a word out for a few seconds.

“thank you.” you said, watching as her face furrowed in confusion “for saving me at the school, I mean.” you added before turning around again, leaving before she could say anything to you.

Before you could get out of the stables she called your name causing you to stop walking, turning around once again you saw her walking towards you, stopping in front of you, making sure she kept distance between you as she didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable.

“what?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

She hesitated, furrowing her brows as she looked at you, she started fumbling with her hands, looking nervous to say whatever she was going to say.

“I wa-wanted to apologize.” she said, staring into your eyes with her sad ones “I’m really sorry, there's no excuse as to why I said that to you, I shouldn't have called you that.” she added.

Shaking your head “that? you mean you shouldn't have called me a slut?” you scoffed.

“I shouldn't have!” she said, looking at you with a panicked expression, not wanting to get into another fight with you “I didn't mean it.. I was just..-”

“You were just what Ellie?” you exclaimed, frowning “you treated me like shit the day after the bonfire and then you made it even worse, I liked you Ellie and fuck I thought you liked me too but then you go and do that.”

She looked at you with a pained expression on her face, she wanted to tell you why she pushed you away the day after the bonfire but she couldn't, you wouldn't believe her anyways, not after what she did outside the bar.

“you really hurt me and there's no taking it back.” you said, looking at her sad face before you began to walk away only to stop once again.

“and for the record, I didn't sleep with Jesse, I don’t like him that way, at all.” you mumbled before you left.

Ellie let out a sigh, looking down at the ground as she thought about your words.

‘I don’t like him that way, at all.’

She felt stupid about not considering your feelings in this all along, she thought about Jesse, wanting him to be happy but she didn't even consider the fact that you might not even like Jesse.

“fuck.. I’m so dumb.” she muttered under her breath.

She promised herself that she would fix it no matter how long it would take her, she wouldn't just let you go like that now.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams imagine #tlou ellie #ellie williams #tlou imagines #tlou angst

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queensoybean0724 · 3 years

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Succession Chapter 8 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fanfic

Chapter 8 is here!

Title: Succession Chapter 8

Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader, OC

Rating: R for language and explicit gore (may be triggering with the descriptions of the bodies in the factory)

Summary: you discover a long lost relative has died and made you his sole beneficiary. While flying to collect your inheritance, you crash in a village in Romania.

Author’s Note: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village. This is a work of fiction. Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter 8

The soft tugging of your wrists woke you from sleep. You blinked rapidly and looked up to see Heisenberg removing the cuffs and setting them on the floor.

“What are you doing?” you asked, bringing your hands close to your body and rubbing your wrists.

“Sorry to wake you,” Heisenberg murmured, “but I’m going to work for a while downstairs...didn’t want you to be shackled to the bed the whole time. Do you need to use the bathroom before I go?”

You nodded your head, realizing you were in need of the facilities. Standing slowly to your feet, you padded to the door and walked across the way into the bathroom. Once you relieved yourself, you washed your hands and made your way back to the room.

“I’ll be down there for several hours,” Heisenberg said as he rinsed his hands in the sink, “I’ll probably skip lunch. Help yourself to whatever is in the refrigerator.”

You thanked him and curled back up under the covers. You couldn’t believe it, but this fucked-up picture of domesticity was starting to grow on you. Last night’s dinner outside at sunset was quite pleasant. Heisenberg didn’t talk much aside from the occasional grunt or nod if you said anything. It seemed that something was weighing on his mind. And when you asked him what he had been working on at his desk a few hours earlier, he once again told you to mind your business.

Heisenberg put on his hat, sunglasses, and trenchcoat and left without another word, closing the door behind him.

You fell asleep for another three hours before finally waking up and looking over at his clock on his nightstand. The time read 11:46am.

Rising from the bed, you cooked yourself some breakfast and filled a mug full of water. You ate leisurely and leafed through a fashion magazine that had been stuffed into one of the suitcases Heisenberg had brought from the crash site.

Once you were finished with your plates, you washed them in the sink and put them away. You had made up your mind that you were going to shower. You hadn’t washed since Heisenberg brought you here and it was creeping up on day three...or was it day four...five maybe? Either way, you needed to wash.

You gathered your shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and sponge. You also reached for your razor and shaving cream. It had been several days since you shaved your legs and you wanted to be clean and smooth...just in case…

No, you thought, not because of Heisenberg! But because I want to get back to feeling normal again!

There were a couple of towels hanging over the windowed walls of the shower, no doubt used by Heisenberg himself. You made a mental note to ask him for towels of your own when he got back…

Then it occurred to you. When he left, he closed the door, but you didn’t hear the loud click that his key usually made in the lock...

He didn’t lock the door.

As you shaved and showered, you mentally weighed the pros and cons of whether or not you should leave Heisenberg’s living quarters. He had never not locked the door. Maybe whatever work he had planned was at the forefront of his mind and he had simply forgotten to lock the door. Or maybe, just as he trusted you to go back and forth from the bathroom without him keeping watch over you, maybe he was starting to trust you not to leave the room.

The monotony of the room was starting to become boring...perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to walk around and stretch your legs.

You put on a pair of jeans, a long sleeved shirt, socks, and sneakers. Promising yourself that you wouldn’t walk too far, you opened the door quietly and peeked out into the hallway, looking right and left. Heisenberg wasn’t in the vicinity. The usual sounds of the factory rang out in the distance. You strained your hearing to listen for footsteps. Except for you, the area was empty.

Pushing the door all the way open, you stepped out into the hall. You walked down the hallway, making sure to keep your steps light and quiet. The pounding of your pulse was ringing in your ears and you were terrified of Heisenberg finding you outside of his living quarters. He would not be happy with you if he could see you at that moment.

You walked to a closed door and opened it to see the suspended walkway you had run across on your first day. The noises were louder as you looked out among the metal, chains, steam, and rotating bodies. A large body of water was several feet below you. You stood there for a minute and looked all around, afraid that Heisenberg would be nearby and see you on the walkway.

The coast was clear. You quickened your pace as you walked, making sure to tiptoe. You reached the door on the other side, pushing it open.

This was uncharted territory. You didn’t know what was around the corner and made a mental note of which way you turned, how many flights of stairs you went up and down, and factory signs. The signs were written in Romanian, but you sounded them out in your head in hopes you would remember your way back.

Occasionally you would open a door or two along the way, poking your head in and scanning the rooms. A part of you felt guilty...you were being invasive and nosy. This was Heisenberg’s home and even though he was keeping you here against your will, you thought it unlikely that he would want you poking around in his factory. You could picture him now: his brows furrowing, his gloved hands balling into fists, and his mighty voice booming as he yelled at you to get back to his quarters.

Dear god, why did that turn you on?

You had descended stairs earlier and hadn’t seen another set in quite a while, so you assumed you were down in the dregs of the factory. It started to feel warmer the further down you went. Why wasn’t Heisenberg’s room down here instead of higher up where the cold slid in through the walls so effortlessly?

You turned a corner and came up to a heavy steel door that was slightly ajar. Leaning forward, you peered down a dark hall...with bodies hanging along the right side. “Oh my god…” you whispered. You couldn’t tell whether they were alive or dead, but a gas mask sat over each of their mouths and they hung from a tight leather strap wrapped around the breastbone and up under their arms. Their skin was pale and their eyes closed.

Keeping your back flat against the left side of the hallway, you quietly and slowly made your way across. You counted in your head...one, two, three, four, five, six bodies spaced out along the hallway. Was this part of the work that Heisenberg was doing around here? You shook your head. Why was he doing this? What was he doing with all of these bodies?

Another steel door was at the end of the hall and you silently turned the knob and pushed it open.

Upon entering the large room, you gasped audibly, your eyes wide. The place looked like a morgue. Five steel tables sat in the room...with five more corpses lying on top of them. They each looked recently dead, their skin not as pale as the men hanging in the hallway behind you. Decomposition had not occured yet. The bodies had various trauma to them. One was missing an arm. One had its left leg sewed on.

The other three were fitted with a visor over their eyes. They laid shirtless on the tables. One was a woman, her bare breasts visible with a gaping hole in her chest where her heart was supposed to be. She was clothed from the waist down in a uniform that looked familiar...she was wearing a flight attendant’s uniform. Could this be one of the attendants from your plane???

The other two bodies had something different over their left chest. A circular metal contraption was lodged inside. “What the fuck…” you murmured softly, walking amongst the carnage. You were beginning to think that maybe you should have stayed inside Heisenberg’s quarters.

A door was opened on the other side of the room. You crept towards it and looked inside. The room stretched out before you and you could see a steel wall in the middle, separating one section of the room from the other. A steel table stood next to the edge of the wall and you saw that you would have to circle it to see what was on the other side. Swallowing the growing anxiety in your throat, you stepped closer.

You reached the table and the wall and leaned forward, peering into the room. Your mouth dropped, your eyes widened, and you gasped loudly.

“Bruce???”

Bruce Williams sat in what looked like a dentist’s chair, his body slumped forward. A visor, just like the ones the three bodies were fitted with in the previous room, was also sitting over his eyes. Three or four tubes were hanging from the ceiling and plugged into different areas on his body. But the worst thing was his arm...the forearm from the elbow down was missing...and what replaced it was an electric saw.

A tear rolled down your cheek. Oh, god, Bruce, you thought, what happened to you?

Before you were able to put two and two together, there was movement behind Bruce’s body. An open door was against the back wall and Heisenberg entered the room, both of his hands holding surgical tools. He stopped in his tracks when he looked up and saw you standing before Bruce.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” Heisenberg growled, “how did you get out of my room?”

Panic, disbelief, and terror surged through your body. You found yourself mourning for Bruce all over again and being gripped with fear over being caught...but even greater, fury had begun to make your blood boil.

“What is this?!?!” you cried out shrilly, “what are you doing to him??? Bruce...he was seated next to me on the plane!!! OH DEAR GOD, WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO HIM???” You took several steps back, your fingers gripping your hair. This was not happening....this was not happening...you were dreaming again…

“Y/N, let me explain…” Heisenberg said, fastly approaching you, putting his tools down on the table.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!!!” you screamed, turning on your heels and running out of the room. You ran into one of the bodies on the table, your body falling forward. Your chin touched its cold skin and you let out another loud scream.

“Y/N, stop!” Heisenberg commanded. You felt him behind you, his hands gripping your shoulders. You yelped and whirled around, shoving his body away from you. You ran for the exit just as one of the tables with a body flew out in front of you, blocking your path.

Adrenaline was pumping through you and you quickly ran around the table and out of the door. You ran down the hallway, ignoring the hanging bodies, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Y/N!!” Heisenberg yelled as he ran after you. You were in total flight mode and you couldn’t remember which way was up. The little notes you had jotted in your memory were long gone and you had no idea how to get out of the factory.

As you turned a corner, you saw a large industrial lift. You darted inside, gripping the sliding elevator door from above, and pulled it down shut. Looking over at the buttons, you hit the UP arrow rapidly in pure panic.

Heisenberg ran full force at the door, his fingers wrapping around the wooden railings. You screamed loudly, scrambling back against the other side of the lift, pressing your back against the wall.

“Y/N!!” Heisenberg shouted, “Y/N, STOP!!! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!!!”

The elevator lift began to ascend, putting more and more space between you and Heisenberg. You could hear him shaking the wooden railings, screaming your name over and over. Looking upwards, you watched with growing impatience as the lift slowly made its way higher and higher until it stopped at the very top.

There was a metal door before you with thin railings. You looked between them to see a small field surrounded by a barbed wire fence. The metal door was shut tight. You started to kick at the door and shove your shoulder against it, desperate for it to open. After what felt like several moments, you shoved your body once again and the door flew open. You spilled into the grass and looked around wildly. Where could you go? Where could you hide?

You looked to the left and saw a small section of fence that was rusted and pushed back, creating a space that would allow you to escape. Running as fast as your legs could take you, you pushed at the wire and slithered your body through the hole. Jagged edges snagged your skin and your clothes, but you were too fueled by panic to worry about scratches.

After clearing the fence, you jumped to your feet and ran towards the trees and the mountains, desperate to get as far away from Heisenberg as you could.

#resident evil village #resident evil village fanfic #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg fanfic #daddy heisenberg #succession fanfic #succession heisenberg fanfic

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delos-mio · 3 years

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He Looks Up Grinning Like a Devil

Just a short, sweet, **light smut** and domestic fluff Logan one-shot. It's been a long. time. since I've posted a one-shot. Needless to say, I haven't been able to get this scene out of my head (also side note: in this universe, Juliet married a nice man after William fucked off forever and she is happy like she DESERVES). So, hope you enjoy! Thoughts and feelings always appreciated <3

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He told you last night that it’d be a long day, but you didn’t anticipate it to be nearing 11pm and for Logan to still be gone. There had been days like this before, but you never looked forward to having to wake up as well as fall asleep without his warmth by your side. Logan took awhile to finally settle down, but once he’d asked you to live with him, it was like a switch flipped on him and he became the one to cling to you. Two years later and it still made you smile when he pulled you into his lap once he got back from the office and demanded to hear all about your day while he looked at you like you’re the one who put the stars in the sky.

You finally decided to say fuck it and got ready for bed. Logan said it could be awhile, so maybe it was time to accept reality and prepare to fall asleep without him. Face washed, teeth brushed, and naked as the day you were born, you crawled under the covers before picking up where you left off in the book you were reading.

Right in the middle of a particularly exciting paragraph, a shadow lingered in your peripheral vision, making you jump out of your skin and clutch your chest. Logan leaned in the doorframe, laughing to himself at your brief panic.

“Asshole,” you sighed out with a smile.

Logan was still chuckling as he crawled next to you on top of the covers. “Missed you, gorgeous,” he hummed, pulling your lips up to meet his, a strong hand cradling the back of your head.

“Missed you too,” you mumbled into his kiss, unable to fight off a grin. “I didn’t think you’d be home so late.”

“I wasn’t planning on it either, but you know once my dad starts going, he doesn’t shut the fuck up,” he sighed.

Clearly not wanting to elaborate, Logan pulled back to look you over, really taking you in for the first time. A playful look danced in his eyes as he hooked his index finger over the edge of the comforter where it covered your chest.

“You naked under there?” Logan pulled back the duvet just enough to investigate for himself. You simply nodded, eyes fixed on his face.

Without another word, Logan slid under the covers and pulled your warm, naked body flush to his. Your stomach did somersaults when his dark gaze met yours with that ravenous look he got when all he wanted was to have you. He ran his fingertips lightly along your bare spine, making you shiver slightly in his arms. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he muttered before kissing you deeply.

Logan still managed to take your breath away every time he kissed you. Even after years of partnership, you felt like a teen finally getting to kiss her crush. Every move of his lips was reverent, emphatically expressing how there was nothing else in the world he’d rather be doing. Despite having a nearly 16 hour day, Logan still smelled so uniquely him- that perfect blend of clean laundry and amber you found so intoxicating. It was a scent you’d be able to place anywhere and one you loved to have linger.

As your make out session picked up even more steam, Logan let his hand wander over your chest. His fingers were light over the curve of your breast, not in any rush to a particular destination, simply reveling in your smooth skin and holding you close. The little flicker of anticipation in your stomach was quickly burning brighter and you found yourself arching your body further into him. Logan just smirked against your lips as he realized what you were doing. His touch moved down your stomach, petting slow circles into your skin as he continued to enjoy every minute that he drew out your torture. Logan always did have it in him to be a little tease.

“May I?” he asked, voice low and laced with lust. His hand rested just below your belly button, one of his long fingers stroking gently down, signaling where he hoped to be.

“Please,” you breathed out, sounding much more desperate than you’d planned on.

Without hesitation, Logan ran his index and middle fingers between your folds. Your legs fell further open on their own accord, an involuntary reaction to his touch. When he pressed the pads of his fingers firmly onto the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs, you let out a long moan that simply couldn’t stay behind your lips.

“Mmm, already so wet for me,” Logan mused, his kisses moving down to your neck. The short hairs of his beard tickled as his teeth scraped the sensitive skin under your jaw. “The most perfect girl in the world.”

Your breathing became more labored as he continued to swirl his fingers along your clit, knowing exactly the amount of pressure you needed from him. He let his thumb take over and smoothly buried his digits inside your heat, making you gasp and groan. Logan loved all the little sounds he could draw out from you using only his fingers. They went straight to his head and only spurred him on further.

With just a little twist, just the tiniest adjustment, Logan’s fingers hit that sweet spot inside you dead on. Your eyes snapped shut as you writhed on his hand, trying anything you could to keep the contact. Logan lapped over the pulse point on your neck, humming in approval at your reaction to him. You distantly felt him pull away from your throat, but your eyes were still screwed shut as you wantonly ground down on his fingers. As you moved, something tugged in the back of your brain that told you to open your eyes, that you needed to see Logan.

You slowly opened your eyes and Logan’s gaze was hot on you immediately. He held your stare, a small lock of dark normally pushed back hair falling over his eye. He arched an eyebrow and bit down on his lip. There were still times you looked at Logan and couldn’t believe this man- this handsome, silly, impulsive, sexy man- was yours. This was one of those times. The look he gave you made your stomach completely bottom out.

“Oh fuck,” you whined, feeling yourself on the edge of peaking. He knew it as well as you did. The short breaths, restless hips, and string of curse words all signaled to Logan that your release was just around the corner.

“That’s my girl,” Logan smiled, still looking in your eyes. He adjusted to a spot where he could take your earlobe between his teeth and tug. “You gonna be a good girl and come for me?”

All you could manage was a whimper and nod. He ran his thumb over your clit once, twice before you were clutching his bicep, nails digging in hard as you tightened around his fingers, finding your release and panting against Logan’s skin. As your breathing evened out, Logan gently pulled his fingers from you, cradling you close and placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“Thinking about making you come was the only thing keeping me going today,” Logan said, kissing your forehead.

“Well, you certainly delivered,” you laughed. You rolled onto your side and tugged at his belt. “My turn.”

But Logan held your wrist still, shaking his head. “I just wanted to do that for you.” You bit down on your bottom lip. “There’s plenty of time to repay me,” Logan said with a devilish smirk. You both laughed a little before he kissed you one more time. “Come on, keep me company while I grab a drink.” He stood from the bed and held out his hand, which you happily took. On your way out, you grabbed your robe from the back of your vanity chair to throw on, but Logan caught the motion from the corner of his eye. He quickly turned around and snatched the cloth from your hand, throwing it blindly back into the bedroom. “Please. Like I’m gonna let you cover up,” he tutted, rolling his eyes.

“So, what? I’m supposed to walk around here naked while you’re fully dressed? Just for your entertainment?” you teased, leaning over the island in your kitchen.

“Yes,” he smiled, swatting your ass as he passed by on his way to the fridge.

“You’re so lucky I like you.”

“Oh, don’t I know it, princess.” Logan grabbed a rocks glass and some ice before walking over to the other end of the room where he kept his preferred alcohol. “Jules sent me a picture this afternoon of the girls at their soccer game,” he said offhand. He was trying to sound casual, but you knew better. Though he never particularly liked children and certainly was never going to have any of his own, the minute his first niece came into this world, Logan turned into a doting uncle, always eager to show off the girls and brag about everything they were involved in.

“Did they win?” you asked with a massive smile.

“Obviously,” he laughed, taking a sip of his drink as he walked back over to you. Logan pulled his phone from his pocket and pulled up his conversation with Juliet. And there they were- semi-toothless grinning on a field, holding a little gold trophy with a soccer player on the top.

“Oh god, they look so grown up,” you smiled.

“Tell me about it,” he sighed. “I think we should bring them something this weekend for winning their season. I don’t know, like a new playhouse or something.”

“Juliet is going to kill you,” you laughed. “Uncle Logan is going to spoil them rotten.”

“What can I say? I love to spoil my girls,” he winked, running a finger along your jaw. You rolled your eyes fondly, but a yawn found a way to creep out of you. “Wanna get back in bed, princess?”

“Yes, please.” Logan led the way back to your bedroom, almost letting you in before leaning down to kiss you one more time. “I love you,” you whispered to him.

“Love you too,” he smiled back, shutting the door to the outside world and leaving just the two of you to enjoy each other.

#logan delos #logan #ben barnes #westworld #logan westworld #logan delos x reader #logan x reader #logan delos smut #logan delos imagine #logan delos fanfic #westworld fic #ben barnes character fic #masterlist

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daisiesandshakes · 3 years

Note

Good day my dear and first of all, let me thank you and praise you for your beautiful HC! I really enjoyed reading each one of them, and I'm grateful to have your posts filling my dashboard!🥰

If I may leave a request in your ask box... I would like to have a HC reaction of Le Comte, Shakespeare, and Theodorus with MC who gets all nervous and anxious with getting skinship from them for the first time (but eventually can handle it in time).

Thank you beforehand and do take your time and no rushing things! Stay safe and have a nice day~! 🍀✨

Hi sweetheart!

I am so honored to have you in my ask box 💝 thousand thanks for your praise, I am so happy you liked my HC!

Sorry it took a few days to write yours, and I really, really hope you enjoy it!

Here you go:

Ikevamp reactions to a MC who is afraid with skinshipping (Shakespeare, Theodorus & le Comte)

Shakespeare

At their introducing to each other William notices the hesitation as he reaches for her hand to blow a kiss on it. Might this dazzling, little dove be scared? Immediatly he interrupts his action and only bows with a warm smile on his handsome face to comfort her.

Shakespeare can read people very well and recognizes instantly that she gets scared when someone touches her directly. Dealing with his own fear (he's afraid of the dark) he knows how hard it can be to live with anxiety.

"Feareth nothing mine own fair maiden, I wouldst nev'r toucheth thee without p'rmission."

Enchanted by her sweet personality he's very eager to please and comfort her. When she's in town William tries to join her as much as possible, always walking on the side where people could touch her by accident. He would offer his arm when she needs to secure her steps and walk in front of her when it's crowdy (while glaring daggers) to guide her safely through.

Searching for ways to know her better Will arranges many, long walks at the Seine and dinner at a restaurant at a late hour when it's less crowded, chatting with her for hours. Seeking for possibilities to create a pleasantly warm and welcomed atmosphere for her, he asks her also for dinner at his Villa, reading out his newest script and teaching her old english.

Soon after William invites her to his rehearsals (he instructed his troupe members to avoid touching her), hoping that his kind and open troupe makes her feel more safe with the time. And to his greatest pleasure it seems to work. Everyone treats her like a precious, lost little sister and she starts to lose her inner tension around them.

It begins with small gestures, like helping the troupe members getting dressed with their costumes, passing over the props without flinching when they accidently touch her.

One evening she tells William how much she enjoyed the day with a bright smile while she lays her hand on his for a second. "I am so joyous to heareth those honest w'rds from thy fair lips" He turns his face away from her, so she couldn't glimpse the suspicious glistening in his eyes.

The day the play should start an actress has an accident and is not able to take part. Although she's got only a short performance, it presents an important twist in the play. Shakespeare is desperate and about to cancel the whole play, but then...

"I could do her part." MC's voice is faint but firm. Shakespeare's eyes grow wide with surprise. "Art thee sure about yond?"

She plasters a confident smile on her face. "Yes, I saw the rehearsals so many times, I could speak all lines backwards" she giggles, "and there is only one line for myself, so..."

William closes the gap between them, gazing deep in her eyes, frowning.

"T's not the line yond conc'rns me, I am sure thou art able to mast'r t. But the act'r hast to holdeth thee in his arms and I wonneth't confronteth thee with aught yond maketh thee feel uncomfortable."

She swallows hard but replies: "I can do it. When the embrace is soft and he won't press my body against his... I should go along with it. You all worked so hard for it, to see the play cancelled would hurt me much more than his arms around my waist."

The actor appears next to them "Princess, I swear I'll only hold you with the wings of a butterfly!"

With a warm and lovingly glare Shakespeare whispers "So t shouldst beest as thee wisheth. Thee can't imagineth what t means to me yond thee art willing to confronteth thy fears f'r our success."

As the stage play ends the audiance gives standing ovations. After every actor and at least William bows to the public, he rushes backstage for laudatary words. Spotting her his expression lightens up even more "Mine own muse, thee madeth t! Thee enchant'd ev'ryone and hath brought us most wondrous success!" he declares smiling. Laughing joyfully she hurries towards him, throwing her arms around his shoulders and Shakespeare freezes. "I am so, so happy for you Will! Everything went smoothly! Listen to the applause, Will! It seems it won't end!" As she lifts her head to meet his gaze he takes her delicate hand softly into his, and suddenly she realizes that she hugged him without any hesitation.

"Thee not feareth mine own toucheth anym're, little turtledove?" he asks barely audible.

Lost for words she only shakes her head, thightening the grip around his shoulder. Leading her hand slowly up to his face, Will watches her reactions closely, ready to stop at any second when her features show displeasure. But the radiant expression in her eyes and the smile on her lips stays, and he nuzzles his cheek into her palm with a sigh. Resting her cheek against his chest she clings to him and both close their eyes, enjoying this special moment, knowing there are a lot more waiting for them to explore.

Theodorus

At first he's just annoyed by the "new, helpless hondje" that stays with them at the mansion. But after a few days he learns from a conversation between Vincent and her that she loves art as much as he does, what awakens his interest. Paying more attention to her now he feels attracted to her charming personality and repartee (mostly when it comes to repel Arthur's salacious remarks).

In one of those moments he notices her unusual pale face and the tension in her body, trying to keep a distance between her and Arthur. Although his "threatening words" and his advances are supposed to be merely a jest, she looks like a cornered animal. It clicks in his mind.

Pulling Arthur back at his collar he growls "That's quite enough, get your besotted mess off her. That little hondje will only bark for me." A bit confused and wide eyed Arthur leaves you both alone.

Theo sighs. "You can't bear the touch of someone, am I right?" She didn't expect that he of all residents would recognize it first and in her surprise she only nods. Theo buzzes "Then stay around me and Vincent, that should be safe for you. I'll talk to the others, there is no point in hiding your anxiety. You shouldn't look over your shoulder in fear like a scared, helpless puppy everytime someone gets close to you."

Theo talks to the other residents the same day (threatens Arthur to beat the sh*t out of him if he dares to come too close to her again). From now on everybody still treats her kind and caring, but keeping a respectful distance.

Taking her right away everywhere with him he makes sure no one touches her, even by accident. In crowded places people make quickly room for them only due to his intimidating, beaming glare, ready to spread some black eyes if somebody should be so stupid to lay their filthy fingers on her.

She asks him why he's doing all that for her but Theo only replies "You can't bear it to be touched, I can't bear to have a sad, whining puppy around me. That's all."

But she realizes real soon that he is a very caring and soft person despite his harsh words.

Taking King out for a walk - "Hondje come with me. You need some fresh air and King likes you, so he might behave a bit when you come with us."

"You don't think you could go to town shopping without me, don't you? You need someone to take you by your leash. I'll come with you. We need more sirup either."

Sharing the love for art he'll even invite her to join him in his search for new talented painters. The more time they spend together, the more she seems to lose her anxiety around him, feeling comfortable in his presence. One evening both strall down the Seine he calls her near "Look at this picture hondje!" He stands close to the canvas, his left hand stroking over the frame. She rushes over to his right side and leans in, her shoulder touching his chest. "This is beautiful, Theo!"

"Yes, it is..." he mumbles into her hair, not sure if he's still talking about the picture, inhaling her sweet scent.

After they both discovered this talented painter Theo invites her the next evening into his favorite bar to celebrate this occasion.

It only takes a few drinks (although the bartender had the instruction to water her drinks down) and she's already tipsy. "Oi, hondje! We should leave now, I don't want to carry you back to the mansion!" She only giggles at this imagination and to his surprise no snubbing remark follows. Leaving the bar she stumbles soon, losing her balance. "Watch out, hondje!" He grabs her by her arm before she could fall to the floor. "Ouh, I feel dizzy Theo... would you mind to take a rest at this bench over there?" Nodding he immediatly leads her over, not letting go of her arm. As they sit down next to each other he mumbles "I hope it was okay to hold you at your arm, but I was afraid..."

She cuts him off, giving him a sweet smile "Nah, it was okay Theo. And at least you didn't have to carry me. I am not that drunk..." suddenly a hickup interrupts her. "Oooh nooo..." she whines.

Theo bursts into laughing "I see..." after a second she joins into his laughter. When the last giggle fades, she closes her eyes, resting her head at his shoulder. "I feel so tired all of a sudden."

"Don't mind. You can rest here with me for a while if you need to." he replies with an unusual soft voice. Very slowly he puts his arm around her, in case she wants to raise an objection. "I am not scared of your touch anymore." She murmurs, "I have to admit I'm really enjoying this right now." her words are almost inaudible while she nuzzles her face at his chest. Theo freezes in disbelief, an unknown warmth spreads through his entire body and his heart feels like bursting, relieved that she can't see the heat in his cheeks. Listening to her steady breathing he knows she fell asleep and he kisses her temple ever so slightly "So I have to carry you nevertheless." he mumbles with a grin. In the future he'd make sure no one ever gets the opportunity to touch her. But from now on his actions comprises a further reason.

Le Comte

He's living for centuries now and is able to read in people's heart almost like in an open book. Le Comte recognizes her reserved way when it comes to physical touch immediatly and invites her to his room for a talk. After he gives her a graceful and encouraging smile she tells him hesitantly about her anxiety, feeling embarressed to tell him about her inner demons.

"Ma cherie, don't feel ashamed. There's no reason for that. I'll ensure that everyone in the mansion respects your fears. And please don't hesitate to talk to me about anything that might concern you. Anytime."

This day all residents have a personal conversation with Le Comte in his room.

He will buy her several pair of exclusive leather gloves, so it might be easier for her to get along with her fear to be touched at her hands.

Knowing that public and crowded places are going hand in hand with the fear of being touched by accident he makes sure that almost everything her heart desires would be delivered into the mansion. A few days after her arrival she stumbles over a bunch of new dresses in her room and quite surprised she asks him how he knows her dress size. With slight flushed cheeks and avoiding her gaze he answers that he only has a good eye. (Liar... he observes her so intensly he could tell how many eyelashes her left eye has even when Sebas would wake him up from his deepest slumber...)

He will gladly take every opportunity talking to her, hoping that knowing each other better will reduce her tension and anxiety. Treating her like a princess with the utmost respect and warmth, she begins to relax in his presence. Strolling with Comte through the garden, taking tea in the gazebo, chatting about nothing and everything. Everytime they spend time together the space between them seems to melt a bit more.

Taking a walk early through the garden together became a morning routine in the meantime and today it's warm and the sky bright blue. Suddenly King rushes playful towards them and jumps on her, trying to lick over her face. Totally caught offguard she loses her balance and stumbles backwards but le Comte immediatly catches her at the waist. "King, come here you stubborn beast!" Theo yells but King is already rushing further into the mansion. Theo apologizes quickly to them as he runs after his dog. "Are you hurt, ma cherie?" Concern lies in St.Germain's glance and voice. She giggles. "No, I am fine. King is such a cute "beast". Thank you for catching me Comte." At this moment he realizes that his arms are still around her and with an almost inaudible sigh he pulls his hands off her waist. "I am so glad nothing happened to you, ma belle." Then it comes to his mind, that she didn't complain at his touch. She didn't even flinch... pure happiness spreads through every nerve of his body and with a joyful smile on his lips they continue their walk.

A week later the weather ist still nice and warm, so she decides to visit the market place in town, getting some fresh air and maybe some fruits. The market is almost over as she arrives and less crowded. With a happy smile she studies the remaining goods as a salesman appears directly in front of her, eager to sell her one of his scarves. "A little dove like you should wear a scalf, the wind still can be chilly..." Smiling politely she refuses, but the seller doesn't give up. "Here, this one matches your beautiful eyes" he goes on, his hands almost around her neck with the scarf. She freezes in panic, her face pale with shock as suddenly someone appears behind her, grasping the sellers'hands, holding them away from her neck. "Sir, what do you think you are doing, to harry a young lady like this?" Comte pushes the hands of the seller with one arm away, his other arm already protective around her shaking form. The burning anger in his eyes makes the salesman flee in panic without another word. Comte's gaze softens instantly as his eyes roam over her body with utmost concern. "Cherie, did he hurt you?" Still shaking she replies sobbing "No... It was o- only ..I was only scared he would touch me." Without thinking his grip around her tightens but in the next moment he takes a step away with a flustered expression on his graceful features "I'm begging your pardon, ma cherie, I shouldn't ... It wasn't my intention to embrace you without permission."

Shaking her head softly she closes the gap and leans back into his arms, her voice faint and pleading "Don't worry Comte, I am not scared of your touch anymore. If you don't mind, would you hold me a bit longer? It makes me feel safe." Stunned by her words he softly put his arms around her, his heart swelling with affection. As she rests her cheek against his chest with a sigh he whispers "I would so anything for you, ma cherie. And to hold you in my arms is my greatest pleasure." Slowly she lifts her chin to meet shiny golden eyes, in their dephts swirling so much love, adoration and yearning it takes her breath away. She answers his unspoken question with a lovingly smile.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp shakespeare #ikemen vampire shakespeare #ikevamp theo #ikemen vampire theo #ikevamp comte #ikemen vampire comte

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babbling-idiot2 · 3 years

Text

Raoul Silva x reader

Requested: “Hello!! May I please request a Raoul Silva x female reader? Where the reader works with Bond, but for a time is kidnapped by Silva and then when she escapes and works with Bond again she is conflicted because she has feelings for Silva and then there is a showdown between her and Silva but she doesn’t shoot him when she has the chance?? And then they end up kissing. (Bond is not around) If that is waaaaaay too specific, I completely understand. I’m also a writer and really like this idea, I just don’t have any motivation right now. But If that’s too specific, then just something Silva x reader please?? If not, that’s cool! Thanks and have a blessed week!” -By Anon

Warning:

(Hello! Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy this. It’s actually kind of funny I had a fic for him in the drafts but never got around to posting it. But this was a better idea then mine so, I hope you enjoy!!)

*****

It wasn't suppose to be hard. Nor was it ever hard to do your job. Sure a few bruises and cuts here and there but it was your job and you enjoyed it. You have feared for your life before but at this point in time you weren't that scared anymore. Especially when it involved getting kidnapped. Now you had gotten kidnapped before. But it was also so easy and almost boring. Like they didn't try anymore. Well that was until you got kidnapped by a man named Raoul Silva. You knew him from a brief glimpse of a case file yet you didn't know enough to be interested. Only in the fact he is a ex MI6 agent. That's the only thing that caught you attention.

In training you are taught many things. One being to never get involved with the target. Ever. If you did you would also be terminated. So, you never ever were involved with anyone. Even outside of your job. But luck would have it, as you've found yourself in quite a pickle. Did you get kidnapped? Yes. Was it on purpose? Well of course not. Did you know who kidnapped you? No! But it was quite the shocker to find out the ex MI6 agent, Raoul Silva had been the one behind it. When you were finally sat down. You sat in an empty room. Filled with high tech computer equipment and the sound of people moving around behind you. Mostly out of boredom and the fact that they themselves are bored with this charade. Then as you were also getting bored, you hear an elevator. You looked forward and could clearly see an elevator opening at the end of the room. Silva steps out and begins walking over to you. "Miss Williams. It is truly a pleasure to finally meet you. I must say that I have read much about you." He’s close enough now that your finally able to see him up close. You shouldn’t be thinking this about your kidnapper but he was very much more attractive then his picture "Good things I hope." "Oh nothing less of good I can assure you. Though I am disappointed they left out so much." You continue to look at him, trying to figure out where he was going with this, already having a good idea "Well that's the point isn't it? To keep as much personal information out of the files?" He tilts his head and nods slightly "Yes. I suppose that's correct but I must admit, I would like to know more about you before I get to the real reason why I brought you here. If you don't mind?" You raise and eyebrow curiously as you continue to follow him with your eyes. You didn't answer and he seemed to just take that as a yes. He was walking around the area, not once making his way towards a chair. He kept walking, pacing in the same line as he questioned you on your past. "From what I know, you were a top student in school. A plusses and never once a B. You were dedicated to learning everything. You even graduated 2 years earlier than your classmates. Did you enjoy it? High-school, I mean." You shrugged your shoulders "Its hard to remember everything, since it was a little while ago. I do remember enjoying it though. Many good memories." He hums out in either approval or refusal. Which turns out to be refusal. "I do not believe that. You see your file here says, 'School for miss Williams was, in her words: Troubling, I was bullied a lot and had no friends. My studies were the only thing I focused on. I was the laughing stock of my high school career." You didn't say a word, you had no idea that he was really seeing your file right in front of him. "Now Miss Williams, you were bullied, treated horribly and now you are an MI6 agent. Says you've never had any infatuation for anyone in your life. Is that true?" You close your eyes and shake your head "No. I've never been in a relationship nor do I ever want one." He chuckles and looks at you, straight in the eyes "Miss Williams you do know I have your file here and every word you've said is a lie. I do not think that is a good idea. Tell the truth." He says now looking at the file again. This time you roll your eyes and adjust yourself in the seat "I was in one relationship in college. We only dated a week." "Why?" "Because he was a creep. And an asshole." "See now that is what a want to hear. The truth!" You roll your eyes again and become even more annoyed.

You had no idea how long it had been but what was for sure was that it was long enough. You could hear the sounds of gun fire coming from outside of the building you were in. You thought for a moment that you were hearing things but when you heard the door being slammed open and the sound of an MI6 agent calling your name, relief washed over you. You were soon taken onto one the helicopters and was taken back to HQ. There you were met by a medical team and M. She was glad to see you walking and not in a body bag. She nodded your way before telling the medical team to take care of your. Also ordering you to go with them, knowing how much you hated any kind of medical attention. But you agreed and went along anyway.

Not even a day later you were reunited back with bond and even he was happy to see you again. But sadly even though reuniting gave you a slight feeling of happiness, you were conflicted. For a time you didn’t know what by. Was it work? Did you receive bad news? Did you say something and regret it? You had no idea, until it hit you one day like a truck. You thought back to when you got kidnapped by Raoul Silva. You couldn’t get him out of your mind. It was like he was an infection in your brain and you couldn’t get rid of it. Bond could tell something was wrong with you. Just by looking at you for an extended period of time, he could tell. But he had no idea what it was or better yet, who it was.

You were ordered to go after him. Simple task, easy enough right? Well not exactly. You were hot on his trail, right behind him and yet he was just that much faster then you. Suddenly out of know where he turned this corner and right before this very large door could close you just made it through when it closed with a loud thud. Silva was at a dead end and had no where to go besides the way you came. When he turned around you already had a gun pointed in his direction. Completely prepared to shoot him if he made one wrong move. He knew that you would so, he would have to choose his next words and moves very carefully. “Miss Williams, I am very amazed at how you caught up so quick. I was not prepared for this encounter today.” “Yes well, you’ve screwed up your chances at getting out. I suggest you make yourself comfortable.” You say gesturing to the ground. He knew you wanted him to sit down on the ground but he couldn’t let that happen. “Miss Williams, Or better yet, Y/n? We both know that you won’t shoot me.” He says stepping closer. Though the fact that he knew your name was quite jarring, it didn’t impair your judgement. It was a sign that he was trying to get close. And you most definitely couldn’t let that happen. You pulled the hammer of your gun back and stepped a bit closer, keeping eye contact as to try to intimidate him. “You really think I’m afraid of what M will do if I shoot someone like you? I could care less. You’re actually lucky your up and walking now.” You never once let your confident and intimidating persona drop, not around him and at a time like this, it would be game over for you. But Silva was smart and he could see through your demeanor. “You are smart Miss Y/n. And you hide your private life so well. So hidden like a hermit in the sand. Yet I see right through the cracks. You have feelings for me.” You clench your jaw and shake your head “In your dreams Silva. I could never like someone like you.” “In my dreams? No, no, no y/n. In your dreams. You’ve thought about me since the day you got kidnapped by my men. Ever since you saw me and now, you cant get me out of your head. You can’t hide your feelings for me y/n.” He says now even more closer then he was before. You couldn’t back up anymore, for the door was closed and there was no escape from this. Your finger tightened and he saw this. He reached his hand out. Hoping that you wouldn't pull the trigger. Your brain told you to pull the trigger and end all of this now. But the more irrational part of you held you back. When he got close enough he wrapped his fingers steadily around the barrel of the pistol. He directed it out of the line of his face and slowly stepped into your personal space. He smiled at you and tilted his head at you. “There we are. I knew you couldn’t shoot me.” “It’s the worse decision I’ve ever made. I’m just as good as dead as your are now.” he starts to shake his head at you “No! No, no, no, no my dear! No one will know about this. Not even Bond. You just have to keep this a secret. You’re good at that, right?” You clench your jaw at hearing that. Keeping a secret from the MI6 was like trying to keep candy from a toddler. But nevertheless you nod your head and look to the side. You weren’t looking away for long until you felt a hand on your chin pulling you back. You looked back at Silva and saw a look in his eyes. You weren't sure what it was but what he did next gave you a good idea. He leaned forward and kissed you. It wasn’t for long but it definitely took the breath out of you. When he pulled away, on instinct you chased him slightly. When you realized what you did you looked away embarrassingly. Hoping he didn’t notice. He did, and smiled from ear to ear. Kissing your forehead and the side of your face. He leaned down where his mouth was near your ear before whispering “You should never feel embarrassed around me dear. I want to see you for you, not what they made of you.” You swallowed your embarrassment and looked up at him before leaning in slowly to kiss him back. It was quick, nervous and very sloppy. You were sure you kissed the side of his mouth. He smiled nonetheless and looked down at his wrist. Sighing out in annoyance he looks back to you. “I’m very sorry my dear, but I must end this meeting. I am suppose to meet my men in 5 minutes or our plan is ruined. Till next time my dear.” As he was walking away you stared confusingly at him. “Wait so this was part of the plan wasn’t it?” He turned back as he was about to pull a hatch open that was in the ground. He smiled at you cheekily. “My dear, I have a plan for everything.” He says as he closes the hatch behind him. You stared wide eyed at the hatch before you.

“Well then, where did he go Williams?” You sighed out in annoyance “Like I told you before. I went down the hatch as I saw him do, when I got to the bottom he wasn’t there. He was gone. I ran to the end and searched. He was gone.” M stared at you, disappointment lacing her features as she looked at you. You could practically feel it by now. She shook her head and waved you off not bothering to say another word to you. You rolled your eyes and walked out. Fully intending to just go home.

When you got there you hung your coat up and slipped your shoes off at the door, barley noticing the other pair of shoes right there next to yours. You looked up and sure enough you could see the back of someone's head sitting on your couch. You didn’t have your gun, and hand to hand combat was the only thing you had up your sleeves at the moment. When you came around the couch all thoughts of intruder and fighting left your mind. Silva was sitting there flipping through one of your magazines you had sitting on your table. “You know, you should invest in better security and better reading material.” He says still eyeing the magazine. “And you know I have a full bookcase right there? Also I like to be notified when I have company before they come over. I hate surprises.” He smiles and lays the magazine down, looking up to you with the same smile on his face. “But you like me, so it’s a welcomed one.” You shake your head smiling before walking over to the kitchen. You looked back and he was still seated there, looking out into space of your living room. You had no idea how you were going to deal with him. You had no idea how long this would go on for, but only time could tell now.

*****

(Hello so, I hope you liked this! If you did, any kind of feedback is amazing and highly appreciated! I hope you enjoyed and I hope you have an amazing day/night and stay safe out there in the world!)

#raoul silva x reader #raoul silva headcanons #raoul silva imagines #raoul silva #skyfall #javier bardem

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janetbrown711 · 3 years

Note

“If we get caught I’m blaming you” dot Wakko

Dot liked Doctor Scratchnsniff.

He was very nice, and even when not in a session, he was always willing to lend a helping hand and talk to her. Plus, he helped her with her "PTSD" he called it, though she knew it more as her nightmares and chest pains. They weren't exactly gone yet, but they were far less often as they used to be (she used to not be able to not sleep without her parents but now she was doing pretty good).

She knew her brothers didn't feel the same, but she had a feeling they'd warm up eventually. After all, it was undeniable the stuff he did with her helped her feel better with time. Sure- she wasn't exactly cured, but he said it would take time and she believed him.

However, that didn't mean she told him everything- especially if she wasn't sure if it even was a problem.

The problem was Max.

Dot hadn't ever seen him since the party, but for a while, it was all Yakko talked about. Her parents and Scratchnsniff said it'd slow with time, but it was easy to say it didn't. Yakko was... almost unrecognizable with how much he focused on Max. He never talked to her or Wakko about anything other than him. There was something about him that was just... better than them. Yakko described him as a "good different". Did that mean they were a "bad different"? Yakko used to swear and promise he'd die for them and protect them against their grandmother at all costs- but if Max had always been in the picture would that be the same? Was Max really that much better than them? Heck, Yakko basically admitted he didn't think they were friends...

That was why she was willing to team up with Wakko. She didn't like feeling like that, and if she could get rid of Max things could go back to how they were before. Except without their grandmother too.

Once Yakko returned from his day trip in Disneyland it was soon thereafter announced that Max and his father would be visiting Warnerstock within 2 weeks, so Wakko and Dot quickly began to plan ways to sabotage the two as much as they could.

With Wakko intercepting most of Yakko's and Max's letters to each other, they were able to figure out a game plan. They knew Yakko and Max would mostly be hanging out in the study, but that they'd then be eating lunch (something that they used to do as a family, but Yakko clearly didn't mind dropping that for him).

In preparation, they stole backup keys to the cupboard where all the spices were kept, and to the cleaning supply storage room, and they also stole many buckets of waters from the maids who were too busy to notice two children dragging their buckets away (they only told half empty ones because if they were full they were too heavy).

What they planned to do was set a few buckets of water over doorways so when they stepped through, they'd get soaked. Wakko wanted to make it hot and soapy water, but that was a little too hard to figure out and they already knew it'd be a challenge to get them up there. They also planned to put spicy powders on the handles of the doors to the study so that if they ever touched their face they'd get a painful reaction (something Wakko had experienced numerous times). They also planned to improvise throughout the day, but they'd need to see how things go with Yakko and Max at that point. Who knows? Maybe Max would realize they don't want him and that he should just leave and never come back.

Finally, the day arrived.

Wakko and Dot figured it was best to play along until the boys broke off, and then they'd set the buckets up. However, they still put the powder on the door knobs, figuring that one could take awhile before either realize.

Good thing the two of them had years of pretending to be good little children for their grandmother, otherwise it would've been harder to be "on their best behavior" for their guest.

"Goofy, Max, it's such a pleasure to welcome you two into our home," Lena said as she greeted the guests.

"It's a pleasure to be here. And might I say, you have a lovely home," The king gave an over the top bow and had a big smile on his face. Wakko and Dot exchanged a look.

"Yeah, it's nice," Max said, clearly embarrassed by his dad's antics. Lena laughed.

"Thank you," She nodded at him. "Goofy, these are my children and husband, William. Yakko you know, then there's Wakko and Dot," Lena gestured to each of them. They all bowed when their name was spoken.

"Well it's a pleasure to meet ya too," He bowed again. Max and Yakko shared a look too.

"Uh... Mom? Can Max and I..?" Yakko silently asked her. Lena nodded.

"You two are free to go while we sort out some more business. You two can go as well if you want," Lena said to Dot and Wakko. Gladly, the children all left the throne room, with Yakko and Max heading off to the study, but Wakko and Dot dashing into another hallway so they'd believed they were safe and by themselves before they could begin stalking and prepping the buckets.

"I hate him... and his dad. They're dumb," Wakko scoffed, once they knew they were out of ear shot.

Well... that was a little rude.

"I dunno, he seemed nice," Dot shrugged, peeking around the corner to find Max and Yakko laughing.

"Please, Prince Snooty couldn't even say hi to us," Wakko rolled his eyes before looking at what Dot was looking at and scowling.

"Remember: He's just here to take Yakko away from us, just like grandmum," He reminded her.

"Right. We have to stop them no matter what," Dot agreed. The pair continued to spy on the two until Yakko and Max disappeared down the hallway.

"C'mon, we have buckets to set up," Wakko said, and they headed off to set up their pranks.

After grabbing the buckets needed, it occurred to Wakko and Dot that they were rather short to attempt to place them atop the door, even if she stood on his shoulders. So they went to the nearest room with chairs and dragged one over, and Wakko stood on that, and Dot atop his shoulders.

As Wakko passed her the bucket though, she nearly dropped it.

"If we get caught, I'm blaming you," Wakko panicked, checking their surroundings. Dot blushed, deeply embarrassed, before trying again.

Luckily, she managed not to drop or spill any water, and soon enough they successfully got it atop the doorway Yakko and Max would have to go through.

Now all they had to do was wait.

Dot sat on the stairs next to the study, but Wakko continued on, much to Dot's confusion.

"Where are you going?" Dot asked.

"I'm going to find mom. I don't wanna stay here to wait," Wakko said.

"And sit through a boring meeting?" Dot tilted her head.

"Mom thinks I'm useful in meetings," Wakko crossed his arms.

Struck a nerve there...

"You can stay- whatever. I'm sure we'll hear their screams soon enough," Wakko said, and he walked away, leaving her alone.

Was hanging out with Dot really worse than a boring meeting? Was Dot really becoming uninteresting?

Was this what her grandmother meant when she said unladylike behavior was "unbecoming"? Was she right about her all along..?

"Dot? Is that you?" A familiar accented voice spoke. She looked behind her to find none other than Doctor Scratchnsniff. She hushed him, but scooted to the side to allow him to sit next to her.

"What's going on?" He said in a hushed tone, taking her invitation and sitting next to her.

"Yakko's hanging out with a prince and me and Wakko set up a prank," Dot said, confident she could trust the good doctor.

"A prank? What kind?" He asked.

"We put buckets of water on the doors so when they try to leave they get soaked, and we put chili powder on the door handles so if they touch their face it'll burn and they'll hurt really bad," Dot grinned.

"That's a little mean, no?" He said. Dot glanced at him.

"N-no. He deserves it. He's trying to take Yakko away," She said.

"What makes you say that?" He asked softly. Dot's tail twitched nervously as she thought.

"W-well... Yakko used to always promise that everything would be okay if we stayed together... and he promised that when we came home we'd be a big happy family but now all he wants to do is hang out with Max and talk about Max and be with Max," Dot folded her arms and rested on her knees.

"And that makes you feel..?" He inquired.

"Like-... Like I don't matter to him anymore... like he's sick of me..." Dot confessed with a sigh.

"I'm not annoying, am I?" She turned to the doctor.

"Of course not. You're very witty and fun to be around," He comforted her. "Does that thought, by chance, have anything to do with your grandmother?"

He always knew when something was related to the old queen, even without mentioning her name once.

"Yeah," Dot admitted.

"Remember, you're a lot more than what your grandmother thought. Remember those positive affirmations we went through," He said.

"The ''I'm home, I'm safe?" Dot tilted her head.

"No, those are the grounding ones. These are your self-affirmations: You are kind, you are brave, and you are loved. Remember?" He said.

"Oooh, right!" Dot recalled, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. "I am kind. I am brave. I am loved."

"Very good Dot," Scratchnsniff smiled. Dot smiled too.

"Now... I know you may not want to yet, but I think it best you give this Max a shot before pushing him away. While Yakko shouldn't be pushing you away, it's clear this boy means a lot to him and it would probably mean a lot to him if you liked him too, ya?" Scratchnsniff said, standing up.

Dot thought for a minute.

"Okay... I'll... give him a shot," She sighed.

"Good," He patted her head softly, but she quickly stood and gave him a hug.

"You're really nice," she said. He laughed a little.

"Thank you, Dot. You're really nice too," He said back, before she broke the hug and he continued on his way.

Dot continued waiting on the stairs for quite a while, before (out of boredom) she decided it might be interesting/fun to listen in on whatever it was Yakko and Max were talking about. Quickly and quietly she crept to the doors, carefully not to touch it so as not to knock over the bucket of water, and began to eavesdrop.

"Yeah, I'd imagine having siblings is different from 'not even blood related 'cousins.' Must be nice," Max said.

Yakko laughed. "Yeah, though Wakko and Dot can be just as chaotic. Still, they have their moments and I'd still do anything for them."

"They must not like strangers though, huh?" Max sighed, and Dot felt a pang of guilt.

"No, not really... They're so used to only being able to rely on our family, it's hard for them to branch out-- especially Wakko. Grandma really messed us up."

"She must've really, really sucked, huh?" Max half -oked.

"Yeah..." Yakko half-chuckled.

A pause.

"I wish we had known sooner- I'm sure my dad or Uncle Mickey or Donald would've done something. They hate people like that- can't stand child abuse," Max swore.

"I don't know how much could've been done, but... thanks. I really appreciate it- but know you being here... it's enough. Really," Yakko reassured.

Another pause.

"Wait, don't touch my face- there was powder on the door handles when we went in," Max said.

Dang it, they were caught.

"What? Seriously?!" Yakko groaned. "I'm sorry- they're usually much better than this. How did you know?"

"I'm used to prank wars from Huey, Dewey, and Louie. Trust me- this is tame compared to the stuff they'd pull," Max chuckled. "Oh, and there's a bucket of water on the door. We're stuck until someone notices and removes it or else we'll be soaked."

Double dang it, they were caught again.

Yakko chuckled.

"Your sibs don't sound half bad- other than the clear hostility, but I guess with how much of a nightmare your guy's lives have been so far I can see why," Max said. "Just wish I could fix it somehow."

Dot once again felt guilty.

"Me too... you're... well... you know... important to me," Yakko said.

Dot decided she couldn't listen to it anymore. Instead, she went and got the chair out again and began trying to remove the bucket as best she could. However, being several inches shorter now that she wasn't on Wakko's shoulders, she failed, and the bucket fell, soaking her in cold water that caused her to yelp and fall off the chair onto the floor.

Knowing she couldn't stay lest she be caught, she bolted away as fast as she could, ignoring the throb in her head from where the bucket hit her.

however, she was caught by her father, who had heard the loud crash, and went to investigate.

"Dot? What's the matter- why are you soaking wet?" William asked. Dot pondering lying, but realized Max and Yakko already knew what was happening so she may as well.

"Welllllllll, I didn't like Max so I wanted to prank him with water and chili powder, but that failed and now I'm soaking wet," Dot confessed.

"Dot, I thought we told you to be on your best behavior while we had guests over," William sighed. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up."

"I know, dad. I'm sorry," Dot apologized, glad he believed she did it alone. She didn't want Wakko to get into trouble.

"It's fine- so long as you learned your lesson," William said. "Pranks like that aren't very nice- especially to Max because he doesn't have a change of clothes. Imagine how it'd feel if you had to stay like that all day," William said.

That was a good point... these pranks were mean, just like Scratchnsniff said.

Eventually, they made it to her room and she changed into a clean and dry dress, and William helped dry off her fur and brushed it back to perfection, tying her ears back with her favorite yellow flower ponytail.

"Much better," He smiled at her through the mirror. Dot smiled back.

"However... I think it's probably best you stay with us for the rest of the meeting as a fair punishment," William said. Dot wanted to fight it, but alas, she knew he was right. She nodded, accepting her fate.

As she walked back with her father to the boring meeting she was now going to join apparently, she couldn't help but feel guilty. Max really didn't deserve any of the dirty looks or hostility she and Wakko had been giving him- he seemed really nice. Plus, he was important to Yakko. While it sucked that he wasn't hanging out with her as much, it didn't mean she was unlovable or annoying. It was wrong to take all that out on Max.

Now all she had to do was convince Wakko of the same.

.o0o.

The boring meeting thankfully didn't last much longer, and Dot was able to meet up with Wakko once again, who naturally had a lot of questions. However, they both decided it was best to go into the playroom, away from the other adults, to continue their conversation.

"What happened? I heard a crash but I don't see Yakko and Max- were you wearing that earlier?" Wakko tilted his head.

"It didn't work- Max apparently lives with really good prankers and what we did is considered 'tame'," Dot shrugged.

"Seriously? Ughhhh," Wakko groaned. "I guess that means we'll have to seriously step up our game..." he stroked his chin.

"Wait- maybe... maybe we shouldn't," Dot said. Wakko raised an eyebrow.

"But Max is taking Yakko away from us. We have to stop him," Wakko crossed his arms.

"I don't think he is... he seems really nice," Dot bit her lip.

"What? Are you insane?" Wakko accused.

"I'm not insane. Those pranks were mean and could've ended badly. Max seems nice- he says he wants us to trust him but doesn't know how," Dot defended herself.

"Then he should leave us alone and never come back! I don't want him here! He doesn't belong here," He growled.

"Wakko, stop. Yakko really seems to care about him, don't you think we should give him a chance?" She argued.

"Yakko is our brother. He said he'd never abandon us, but now he is and it's because of him. I have to stop him to make Yakko come back to his senses," He put his foot down.

"Just because he has a friend doesn't mean he doesn't care about us. Doctor Scratchnsniff said-"

"Of course you talked to him," he shook his head. Dot looked down in shame. She knew he didn't really like him, though she really didn't understand why.

"He just said-"

"I don't care what he said! I don't like Max! I will never like Max! He's taking Yakko away and if I'm the only one who sees it, I don't care. Leave me alone," He spat.

"Wakko-"

"I said leave me alone!" He growled at her. Dot stepped back, before realizing it was probably best she listen and leave him alone. She quickly left the room.

Once out, she sighed. Hopefully, she could change his mind before he did anything drastic... for now, she'd just have to wait.

Hopefully, it wouldn't be too long, for Max's sake.

Goodness knows where Wakko would go to next if painful chili powder was level one.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 The End

#my fics #angelina 1 lives au #yax #dot warner #wakko warner #doctor scratchnsniff #william warner #sir william the good #yakko warner #max goof #goofy goof #yax epilogue #what did the powder interrupt *side eye emoji*#lol #sorry this took forever to write lmao #i was tired and brain dead

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writershapeholeonthedoor · 3 years

Text

You Marked More Than Just My Skin - Supercorp

Read it on AO3

Kara’s first instinct was to blame Alex because, if she was going to be honest, Alex was the one to blame for many of her stupid decisions. Sisters' competitive nature or something like that. That's what their mother would say when they were teenagers and they randomly started a fight. A just adopted Kara who had just lost her parents was not letting an overly cocky Alex win without fighting back.

So, naturally, she was going to blame Alex for this. However, Alex had nothing to do with Kara walking down the street from her job one day and entering the tattoo shop she walked past by every day on her way home. No, it had started with Winn, her best friend, saying that Kara wasn’t the type of person to do things out of impulse. Which he wasn’t exactly wrong, although he hit a sore spot because "I can be very spontaneous!" had been Kara’s answer and everyone around them gave her that look that made it pretty clear no one believed her.

Then, just about a week after that, Nia was walking home with her after a stop at Noonan's for their killer milkshake and saw the tattoo shop still open even if it was past 10 pm. There was no one inside that they could see, but the sign read "open" in neon letters and Nia did a double-take when she saw the walls covered in drawings.

"Oh, my God! Look at that thing!" she had screamed. And that thing was a fairly beautiful drawing of a girl lying in bed with a cloud above her head as though she was dreaming about a myriad of things.

Nia grabbed her arm, dragged her inside and, ten minutes later, she was sitting on a chair while a young man that couldn't be older than Kara permanently marked the skin on her forearm with the same drawing.

"Did you draw it?" Nia asked and Kara could tell she was just a little bit in pain because she was clutching the arm of the chair and hadn’t stopped babbling for two seconds. Not that Nia ever stopped talking, actually.

"No," the man replied in an excited voice. Like he was happy to be doing a tattoo on a girl that had just ten minutes prior decided she wanted one. But Kara held back her tongue, took some pictures while Nia made her goofy faces and sat on a stool at the corner like the good friend she was. "My boss did. She does most of the drawings we have available."

"Well, she has a hell of a talent!" Nia exclaimed, bit her lip when the needle hit a soft spot and flashed another smile once it was gone. "You should tell her she's amazing!"

Jack, that was his name, Kara reminded herself, laughed like that was a big joke that only he was aware of, but nodded all the same. "She's in the office right now, maybe she will stop by to hear you say that. She loves when people pick her drawings, but she will never say it out loud."

The woman, whoever she was, didn’t leave her office, not even when they left, way past midnight, listening to Jack's careful instructions on how to take care of Nia's arm for the next week. In the end, Kara had to admit Jack was a nice guy. And he did an excellent job. Nia's tattoo was perfect. Perfect for her and perfectly done, and her friend had no problem showing it off the next day.

"Holy crap!" Winn screamed when he saw it on game night on Friday. "I didn't know you were into tattoos. It looks awesome!"

"Thank you! And I just decided to do it," Nia shrugged, as though deciding to do a tattoo on a Wednesday night at 10 pm after getting a milkshake was a normal thing. "Thank Goddess Kara was with me so she could keep me company."

"Wait," Winn eyed Kara with the same incredulous expression from a week before and she immediately felt defensive. "Kara was there and didn't try to stop you?"

"She did say I might regret it," Nia conceded with a smile. "About ten times, but she stayed with me."

Kara rolled her eyes, picked up the pizza box and sulked on the couch while her friends made fun of her lack of spontaneous nature. Kara was a planner. And she had learned her lesson when she decided to walk to the park instead of going home one day after school and returned to the Danvers' household to find out three police cars parked at the street and a frantic Eliza giving them a photo of her and saying she had disappeared. So, yes, Kara wasn't one to do things out of the blue anymore, but that was hardly a bad thing.

She tried to tell that to herself for the next week while everyone still awed and cooed at Nia's tattoo. She tried to remind herself of Eliza's panicked face while James, with his impressive looking dragon tattoo on his back, said Kara would never be one to make a tattoo because she would keep changing her mind. She tried to picture Alex's disapproving stare while Nia's boyfriend, Querl, made comments on how he loved Nia's carefree and spontaneous nature.

In the end, what pushed her to do it was her boss and Kara couldn’t even blame her, or Alex, or any of her friends. But she would, anyway.

"Kiera, the reason why people hardly remember your name-" she wanted to point out that Cat was the only one who had a hard time remembering her name but bit her tongue instead "-is because you are so... blank."

"Blank?" Kara had asked, trying and failing not to look so offended.

And Cat nodded because she knew how to get to her. "Nothing remarkable. You use terrible sweaters and write articles that everyone could write. Did you ever do something, I don’t know, remotely spontaneous in your life?"

Kara was sure - or almost sure because you can never know with Cat Grant - that her boss was trying to push her to fly to Midvale to write about the scandal surrounding some tech company there even though Snapper had decided William would cover that for CatCo. It was either that or to make her wear something that wasn’t in pastel color.

Well, all it did was send Kara straight to a tattoo shop where she hoped to find Jack and demand he did something as spectacular as Nia's tattoo. And she went on a mission, marching down the ten blocks from CatCo to the tattoo shop - that only that day she stopped to read the name of and what weird name they chose, Le Vintage Ink - her feet hitting the ground with a purpose, her hand pushing the door open with a vengeance, her eyes narrowed behind her glasses with one goal in mind.

It wasn't Jack she saw, however. She didn't see anyone at first, actually. The shop was empty like it was a week before and very silent, with the air conditioner doing a soft hum and nothing else.

The anti climax moment was enough to make all her determination wave off. Her shoulders dropped, her eyes rounded, her feet started to stamp and her determination, well, she didn’t quite remember it anymore. Nobody needed to know, Kara told to herself. Nobody knew she was going to do it, so she could just turn around, leave, go back to her apartment and try to do some online shopping. Maybe buy a red dress for once. None of her friends would ever believe she went back to the tattoo shop, so there would be no problem...

No. That was exactly the problem. They wouldn’t even believe her if she told them. They would laugh, call it a bluff, and keep teasing Kara for not being adventurous like they were. Alex does this long motorbike drives all over the state sometimes, and James goes hiking and jumps from planes from time to time. Winn would point out that the last thing Kara did without meticulous planning was to change pizza night for potstickers and that was only because the pizza place she always orders from was out of pineapples.

However, Kara reasoned with herself, instead of doing a tattoo, she could just go with Alex on her next trip. Maybe she could ask James to teach her how to hike. Querl adopted a cat he found behind his building, so maybe that could be Kara’s unplanned moment too. And what did Winn do so adventurous or spontaneous that he had the right to make fun of Kara? She couldn’t remember.

Yes, any of those things would be more reasonable. She could even do an impromptu visit to her mother. It would count for something. She knew Eliza would be happy and she loved making her mom happy. She could even pick Alex's old helmet so her sister could use it to ride with her girlfriend, Kelly, and Eliza makes a killer chocolate pecan pie too.

Already dreaming with the taste of the pie crust in her mouth Kara turned around. She must have been inside the tattoo shop for less than ten seconds and Jack hadn’t shown up yet, so that was a plus and a sign, even if she wanted to greet him and tell how nice Nia's tattoo looked after a week.

The second her back was turned to the counter, though, she heard a door opening and then a voice filled the silence. "Can I help you?"

That wasn’t Jack's voice. That much she knew. What she didn’t know was that someone could sound so... husky and still be so clear on the words. What she also didn’t know was why her body froze like she had been hit with lightning. Or why she ever decided to leave when a voice like that was inside the shop.

It would be rude to just keep walking, Kara told herself and even she knew it was a lame excuse for wanting to see the owner of that voice. But she still turned around, eyes blinking fast as she tried not to miss a second of what she was about to see, and then immediately felt her soul leave her body. That was the only explanation on why her mouth fell open and why her brain's function slowed down at least 30%.

Because the voice's owner was... for the lack of a better word, striking. It was a woman, looking a few years younger than Kara, with dark as coal wavy hair falling down her shoulders, green piercing eyes framed by some heavy eyeliner and plump lips painted with red lipstick. The woman was wearing a black t-shirt from a band Kara had never heard of, the v-cut being deep enough that she could see a black bra under it. The shirt looked like she had been cut at home - maybe she wasn't designed to have such a deep v-neck, maybe she had sleeves at some point and maybe the deep cuts by each side also weren't a part of the initial product. But, damn, it looked great on her. Since she had no sleeves and the shirt moved as she walked and showed a great expanse of her sides, Kara could see that the woman’s body was covered in tattoos.

Her arms, from shoulder to wrist, were almost totally covered. Her left arm almost looked like a flower shop, with dozens of flowers in different colors drawn all over it. Her right arm had tattoos from her shoulder to her elbow, and they were a mix of chemical elements and computer parts that, somehow, worked together in all black and white. Kara got just a few glimpses of the tattoos on her side - something that looked like a cartoon character, another one that assembled a lake, a few words that Kara couldn’t read from that far - but that was enough to make her lick her lips and try to picture what else was there. There were no tattoos on her chest area, that Kara could see, but there was a small musical chord on the left side of her neck, and Kara wondered if she had any tattoos on her legs. She couldn't see them from where the woman was standing behind the counter, and something dragged her feet forward before she could stop herself.

"H-hi," she choked out and her face immediately heated up with embarrassment. Her sister would call it 'gay panic' and make fun of her for three days, and Kara was suddenly very thankful for being alone. "I, uh..." The woman blinked, Kara mimicked her, and lost every coherent thought inside her head. "Jack."

The woman arched one perfect eyebrow, resting her hands flat against the counter, and Kara’s blue eyes were suddenly very interested in the long fingers spread over some papers. The papers, she noticed as a second thought, were unfinished drawings, but she could hardly tell what they were. Feeling her face get even hotter, Kara demanded that her eyes moved up and she was almost proud of herself when they paused for only a second at the woman’s cleavage. Of course, as soon as her eyes met the woman’s face again, she had a tiny smirk like she knew Kara was having a hard time being in the same space as her.

"I'm sorry, love," she said and Kara noticed an accent behind the last word, like she had spent years trying to get rid of it but still couldn't brush it off some words. "Jack doesn't work here on Tuesdays."

Oh. Well, that's a bit of a relief, Kara wasn't going to lie. No Jack, no tattoo, and she still could say she tried. She still wanted to say ‘hi’ but...

"Can I help you instead?"

Oh, boy. Kara almost turned around and ran away right then and there because the things she was thinking this stranger could help her with were kind of mortifying. Instead, Kara bit her bottom lip so hard that it went numb instantly, and leaned forward until she was resting her hands in front of the woman's fingers. She dared to glance down really quick, just to find out the woman was wearing black jeans and boots, before she looked up again - with a quick stop at the cleavage because good lord.

"I don't know, I..." Kara couldn’t even say her own name if the woman asked at that moment, let alone remember what she was doing there and where there even was.

The woman chuckled then. A deep, husky sound from the back of her throat that brought a small smile to her lips, and then she ducked her head - as though she had no idea that was the most blinding smile Kara had ever seen in her twenty-six years of living. Neither the chuckle nor the smile was mockingly, and her green eyes were just a little bit amused when she looked back at Kara.

"Don't get me wrong but... you don't look like the type of person that would get a tattoo."

Okay, what is it with people just assuming Kara is too boring to do something? Kara took a look at her own clothes. She wasn't even wearing a sweater that day! Sure, beige trousers and a blue button up hardly screamed "living on the edge" but come on! Was it the glasses? Alex always said she should use contact lenses, but she liked the glassed!

Feeling a new wave of determination, Kara set up her jaw and crossed her arms. "Well, that's exactly what I came here to do."

The woman raised both eyebrows now, clearly amused. "To get a tattoo?" She asked like there was any other reason for Kara to be inside a tattoo shop on a Tuesday night.

So Kara nodded, her blonde hair wiggling from side to side on her ponytail, and straightened up her back like she was about to enter a fight. Not that she ever fought before, not even when the cruel kids at her new school would call her weird and push her inside her locker. Alex would beat them up for her, so she didn’t have to, it was fine.

"Yes," she said and her voice only trembled for a second. "To get a tattoo," she confirmed like there was any other reason for her to be inside a tattoo shop on a Tuesday night.

"Okay," the woman said, clicking her tongue once before she picked up a pen from the desk, a smirk permanently spread on her lips. "Do you have any idea of what you want?"

Shit. Kara hadn’t gone that far. Maybe not even her own brain thought she would do it because she had neglected the most important part of the entire process. She had no idea what she wanted permanently marked on her skin.

(Permanently marked also sent a thousand of red lights inside her head because, you know, it was permanent)

It must have shown on her face because the woman’s smirk became more of a smile, not exactly gentle but not mockery either. "What's your name?"

"Kara." She was so glad her brain hadn’t come up with something ridiculous to say. She could remember when she met her cousin's sister-in-law and answered the same question with "mashed potatoes" for some reason she would never be able to grasp. Lucy never let her forget that embarassing moment.

"Well, Kara," and Holy Goddess of all the universe and beyond, how could her name roll out of her lips like that? "why don’t you take a look at the drawings we have here, see if you like one. If you don't, we can always come up with something for you."

She then pushed some heavy black portfolio across the counter towards Kara and opened the leather front cover to show her the first drawing. They were all separated by plastic, and she started the task of turning the pages while trying very hard to look at the drawings and not at the woman in front of her. She wasn't sure because she wouldn’t dare to look up, but she could feel green eyes staring at her and her blush returned full force.

"So..." she heard after a couple of minutes in silence. "What kind of dare you lost?"

Kara took full offense on that, glaring at her for a moment before going back to the portfolio. She had gotten on the dragon section and decided to skip it all together. "There was no dare."

The woman hummed, watched her for another minute, and then leaned over with her forearms touching the counter. She reached out, taking the plastic from Kara's fingers, and started skipping the pages until they reached the flowers. Kara looked up, catching a glimpse of the woman's arm, before meeting green eyes with a light glare.

The woman shrugged. "You look like a flower kind of girl."

"What else do I look like to you?" Kara mumbled back and stubbornly went back to the drawing she was seeing before - the ships and anchors section - even though she left a finger marking the flowers page.

The brunette seemed even more amused now, barely able to hide her smile, and she chuckled once when Kara turned the page to see another ship. "Like you randomly decided to get a tattoo because someone pissed you off."

Kara tried not to give her the satisfaction of being right, deciding to focus on studying every ship and every anchor. She heard another chuckle, but the woman wisely didn’t push the subject.

"You could save us a lot of time by just going to the flowers."

Fine, maybe she was right about that too. Kara would never pick a ship, or a dragon, or a coffee cup, or any other drawing she saw before. Although Kara never thought what type of drawing she would get tattooed. With a sigh, she went back to the flowers, throwing the woman a dirty look when she huffed a laugh.

"Hey," she said, raising her hands in playful defense, "if I'm going to do something that you will regret tomorrow, at least let me help."

"Aren't you going to try to talk me out of this?" Kara asked, remembering when Jack asked Nia five times if she was sure before touching her skin with the needle.

"No," another shrug. "I will get my money and you will get the regret. Works fine by me."

Kara scoffed and shook her head, but finally spotted something she liked. It was a rose, not larger than a paper ball, black and white with a few leafs to the side. She was almost pointing that one out when she heard a deep sigh and looked up. The brunette was staring down at the drawing with enough judgment that Kara changed her mind in a blink.

"What?" She still asked because it was a beautiful flower.

"Nothing, it's just... does that even mean something to you?"

Kara looked back at the rose and frowned. "I like roses," she defended herself.

"I like kale, but I won’t tattoo that."

"You like kale?" Kara didn’t mean to sound so disgusted by it but it was stronger than her. Her face twisted in a grimace, shocked more than anything.

The other woman laughed a real laugh this time, and Kara felt the sound into her xcvery core. "Please, don't ask me to tattoo a burger on you. You're too pretty for that."

It was like she knew exactly what those words would do to Kara because she winked right after, making her blush ten times more. "What do you suggest, then?"

The tattooed brunette smiled and tapped her finger on top of the rose. "If you liked this one, it's fine, but I would go with..." She let her voice die as she started turning the pages until she found what she was looking for. "This one."

Kara looked at the drawing and was immediately sold to the idea. It wasn't just any flower. It was a plumeria. Well, two plumerias side by side, with a few leafs to the sides and a mandala carefully placed behind them like it was the third flower. She knew she wanted that one the second her eyes landed on it.

"It would look good on you," she kept talking. "I wouldn’t add any color, though." Kara kept nodding although she was only half paying attention now that she had found the right one. Her silence must have sent twisted signals because the woman’s voice became softer. "I know I said I wouldn’t try to talk you out of this but... are you sure?"

Kara’s eyes moved up then, metting slightly concerned green eyes, and she smiled. "Yes. I'm sure."

The woman studied her face for a few seconds before she nodded once. "Okay, then. Where do you want it?"

Shit.

The panic on her face told her out again and the woman’s laugh filled the space around them like a melody. "Come on, we can figure it out inside."

‘Inside’ being a closed room very similar to the one Nia had gotten her tattoo, albeit it was clear that that one wasn't Jack's. First, it lacked the smell of cigars and heavy cologne that Kara smelled last time and made her nose itch. But it also held a more personal touch like more drawings and a few words scribbled on the black walls. Kara didn’t feel nervous while the woman turned the sign from open to close, explaining that she was the only one who worked on Tuesdays' nights. She also didn’t feel nervous when she entered the room and spotted the comfortable chair she would be sitting on. What made her nervous again was taking her shirt off so she could decide where she wanted the plumerias to be.

She placed the printed drawing on several parts of both of her arms, her shoulders and asked the brunette to hold it at some spots on her back as well. But Kara was only satisfied when she put the paper against the right side of her ribs, a few centimeters below her bra. The woman gave her a knowing look and arched one eyebrow when she said that was the place she wanted her tattoo.

"Are you sure? It can be quite a painful area to get a tattoo, especially if it's your first one."

Again, she wasn't making fun of Kara and she appreciated it, but she also wasn't going to change her mind. "I'm sure."

"Okay. I will put the outlines, then."

It was only when the brunette had her hands against her side and her face a few inches from her chest that Kara realized she didn’t even know who she was. "Hey, I, uh, I didn't catch your name before."

Green eyes glanced up, bright and slightly amused, before they returned to the task of perfectly positioning the flowers on her ribs. "Lena."

"Lena," Kara found herself echoing the name in a whisper before she could stop herself. Lena looked up again, even more amused than before, and Kara felt herself blushing. "It... it suits you."

She had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but Lena smiled and tilted her head to the side. "Thanks." She pushed back the stool she was sitting on. "Take a look at the mirror and see if that's what you want."

Kara took a step closer to see her reflection and tried very hard to ignore the fact that she was standing in front of a stranger in her bra. The plumerias were exactly what she wanted and exactly where she wanted them, and she said that to Lena, who told her to lay down after turning the chair into an improvised bed. While Kara tried to find a comfortable place to lay, she heard Lena slipping on rubber gloves and moving a few things around before approaching her again. She was half expecting her to ask one more time if she was sure, but Lena said nothing when she touched her skin with the black gloves, and raised the needle to her eyes level to make sure it was ready to go.

Kara wasn’t sure if the shivers were from nervousness, the chill air of the room, or the fact that this very attractive woman was touching her just below her breast, but she did her best to ignore it. Lena had pulled her hair into a messy ponytail, Kara realized, and she could see her sharp jawline more easily now. She also spotted five different piercings on the woman’s right ear. For a second, she wondered if Lena could feel her heart beating under her skin or if she could maybe even hear it.

"Be ready for some pain, but try not to move," Lena said while she lowered the needle to her skin. "It will take longer if you keep moving. You also don't want me to fuck this up," she offered Kara a smile to let her know she was joking - at least that's what the blonde hoped for. "Tell me if you need a break."

So, Lena wasn't lying when she said it would hurt. Nia neglected to tell her about the painful part and Kara would make her pay for it by typing down her next article, but, holy crap, it hurt. The first touch of the needle made her jump and hiss, and Lena pulled it away like she knew it was going to happen, giving her a few seconds to recover.

"Sorry," Kara whispered once her body relaxed again.

"It's fine," the brunette mumbled back, totally concentrated on her job now.

It went like that for a few minutes - Kara squeezing her eyes shut, biting her lips, clutching the sides of the chair slash bed, and hissing under her breath whenever she couldn’t hold it back anymore. Until she started to get used to the pain and allowed herself to focus on other things. Her eyes trailed to the few drawings hanging on the walls, taking in the delicate traces and the lack of colors from all of them. She decided that talking would help her with the pain.

"Jack said his boss makes those drawings," she commented lightly.

There was a brief pause before Lena answered her. "That would be me."

"Oh," the blonde breathed out in shock. "So, you..."

"I'm the owner, yes." There was another pause while Lena cleaned her skin with a soft paper. "I used to work for a tattoo artist back in Metropolis before I decided to open my own business. Jack followed me."

"Well, you certainly have talent. Your drawings are beautiful."

"On paper," Lena teased and Kara didn’t need to look at her to know she was smirking. "Let's see how it translate to your skin."

Kara wanted to play along and tell her to ‘please, don't make something awful that would be permanently marked on my skin’, but she found herself saying something entirely different. "Plumerias were my mom's favorite flowers. My dad would bring them to her every Saturday after work because those were the first flowers he ever gave her." She could still remember her father getting back home on Saturdays right before lunch with a bouquet in his hand to her mom and a box of chocolate for her, all smiles and offering hugs. If she tried hard enough, Kara could still remember the smell of her mom's stew mixed with the flowers' smell, could still taste the chocolate. "They died almost fifteen years ago."

Kara had no idea why she was sharing those things with this stranger wearing black rubber gloves and breathing too close to her ribs, but she also couldn't stop. Maybe it was a tattoo thing, like sharing too much about your relationships while cutting your hair.

Lena didn’t shy away, though. She made sure their eyes were locked before saying, "Let's make sure those are perfect, then," and went back to work.

Kara felt herself relaxing more after that, although she didn’t say anything else for a few minutes. "I work as a reporter to a magazine," she found herself saying. "My boss is... both of them are impossible to deal with. I dream about throwing them into space sometimes, but... I love my job. One of them is the reason I'm here today."

"Who should I be thanking?"

Kara blushed one more time, even if she wasn't sure it was said to be flirtatious or if she was just imagining it. "Cat means well, she just... push some buttons sometimes."

"Well," Lena stopped her movements to look at Kara again, this time with a soft smile. "I will be sending this Cat some flowers anyway."

The blonde chuckled at that. "Go back to work. I don't want to end up with a dragon on my ribs."

Lena hummed, eyes dropping back to the outlines of the flowers and needle touching skin again. "I wouldn’t draw a dragon on you," she contemplated. "You're more of an iguana kind of girl."

Kara gasped in faked offense and turned her head to fully stare at Lena with narrowed eyes. "How dare you? You know nothing about me!"

The tattoo artist shrugged, not bothered by her explosion. "Maybe a kitty." Kara huffed and puffed, letting her body fall back on the chair, and did her best to keep frowning. "Definitely a kitty," she heard Lena whispering under her breath, playfully and amused, and Kara was soon smiling. "So... will your boyfriend approve this?"

"Are you fishing for information about me?" Kara teased.

"Huh," Lena sighed. "You didn’t sound this confident when you were stumbling over your words when you first saw me."

She was sure her entire body turned pink with that and she mumbled weakly that: "I was nervous about getting a tattoo."

"Yes, of course," Lena replied and Kara blushed again.

"No boyfriend," she ended up replying because the other alternative was to dig a bigger hole to herself. "Or a girlfriend."

She was ready for another teasing from the other woman, but Lena pulled back instead and eyed her tattoo with her head tilted to the side. "I need you to hold your breath for a few seconds, okay? I'm getting to a delicate part and it would be better if you hold it for, like, ten seconds."

Kara nodded and got ready to pull in a breath to hold it while Lena got her needle ready to go again. When the other woman said so, Kara took in a large intake of breath but, as soon as the needle touched her again, she exhaled in surprise when the pain shot to every nerve in her body.

"I know," Lena said. "It's the hardest part. I promise to be done with it as fast as possible. Can we try again?"

There weren't many options since Kara was already in the middle of getting her tattoo done, so she nodded and waited for the new signal. Kara grabbed the chair with both of her hands, pressed her eyes tightly shut, bit her bottom lip and held her breath for the longest ten seconds of her life before Lena tapped her skin and pulled away with a smile.

"There," she declared in her husky tone. "Good girl."

It was embarrassing how those two words made Kara react. She gasped, the breath still stuck in her lungs almost causing her to choke, and her entire body went stiff when a shiver left goosebumps all over her skin on its way down her spine. She couldn't see Lena and that was a blessing because she could feel the pause that her reaction gave the brunette. So, maybe that was a weird way to find out a praise kink, Kara decided while praying that Lena would brush it as a perfectly normal reaction to have.

"That was interesting," Lena whispered and, this time, the blonde knew she wasn't supposed to have heard that.

The blonde bit her bottom lip so hard that she could feel the taste of blood and she was totally sure that Lena could hear how fast her heart was beating. She could probably feel it, and, God, that was so embarrassing. Kara had half a piece of mind to just pull back her shirt, leave and never go back there, but the other woman didn’t give her time to react before she was once more piercing her skin with the needle. It was still painful, although the mortification she felt numbed it a little bit.

Lena didn’t sound so cocky when she spoke again and she even had to clear her throat so the words would come out less hoarse and more audible. “Just a while longer and we will be done. Can you handle it or should we finish it another day?”

Kara didn’t trust herself to ever come back – and not just because of what had just happened but also because she didn’t think she would be brave enough to get any tattoo needle to ever touch her again. So, she exhaled slowly and nodded. Lena went back to the draw immediately after that and they fell in a half comfortable silence until the trickiest part was over. Or, at least, that’s what Kara thought the trickiest part was because it hurt like hell and Lena had this crinkle between her brows when she glanced back that made her look... cute. Even with the tattoos and the five different piercing sets on her ears, the black clothes, the black room and her undeniable confidence.

It wasn’t until Lena leaned away to get more ink that she spoke again. “Plumerias were very common where I lived.”

Kara thought back on their conversation and wondered aloud, “Metropolis?”

“Ireland,” she corrected gently.

“Oh,” Kara breathed out and then hissed when the needle was back to her ribs.

“Not many people know I’m Irish, so I’m trusting you with this secret, Kara.”

She could hear the joke in the woman’s voice and Lena even poked her side playfully, and Kara heard herself giggling like a schoolgirl. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“That’s not how it works,” Lena declared with a huff. “Now you need to tell me a secret of yours.”

“What?”

“Yes, so we’re even and I can make sure you will never tell anyone what I just told you.”

“It’s not like you just confessed a murder,” Kara argued with an eye roll that was quite too fond to be directed to someone who she had met only two or three hours before.

Lena looked up for a second and their eyes met, making Kara’s face flush red. She was pulling a very uncomfortable position to keep her head raised and turned to the side so she could watch the other woman, and she had just been caught doing that one more time. “No? Well, you shouldn’t go to my office then.”

Kara hummed, trying to sound unimpressed by the joke while fighting back a laugh, and shrugged. “I knew it was weird I didn’t see Jack.”

The brunette let out a breathy chuckle, her hot breath hitting Kara’s side and making her shiver again, before she pursed her lips. “I see you’re too fond of Jack already.”

“Jealous?”

Lena quirked one dark eyebrow and gave her a look – the type of look that Kara tried to pull out her entire life while trying to look all sexy and misterious and was never able to do it – that made the blonde’s entire body warm up. “I’m the one poking your skin with a needle right now, so I think he should be the jealous one.”

Yes, Kara couldn’t keep up with that. She was weird, she rambled, she stuttered more times than not, and just, overall, was terrible at the whole flirting thing. Lena, on the other hand, seemed to be a master on it. Kara didn’t really stand a chance against it, not even for a second. She could try, pull out a word or a phrase here and there, but, in the end, Lena would find a way to leave her blushing and flustered so easily that made her head spin.

(She couldn’t be sure if Lena was just that good or if Kara was just super gay, but, whatever it was, it was working wonderfully)

“Now, come on, spill a secret,” Lena said after a long silence that stretched between them while they just stared at each other’s eyes.

Kara felt hypnotized by the green eyes and that was so unfair. So, damn, unfair. “I get my boss’ coffee order wrong every day.”

Lena stopped with the tattoo again to blink at her a couple of times in what seemed to be confusion. Then, she tilted her head to the side, glanced to the ceiling and opened her mouth as if she was going to say something. No sound came out, she closed her mouth again, and she looked so adorable that Kara felt her rambling coming to the surface again.

“Cat has this really complicated order at Starbucks that makes my head hurt just to think about. 3% fat, quarter milk, a spoon and a half of organic sugar, or whatever that is. It’s my job to get her coffee every morning and there’s no Starbucks close to my apartment, so I stop at another place called Noonan’s and get an order from there.” Lena still hadn’t said anything and Kara couldn’t bring herself to stop talking. “I used to work there, so I have a discount. I can buy a coffee for myself too with the same amount of money I would spend at Starbucks. And she never noticed it!”

There was a pause where Kara tried to come up with more things to say before a loud laugh cut the space around her. She looked at Lena with wide eyes and only slightly offended by her reaction, but the other woman was too busy laughing at her expense to notice it. The brunette used the back of her hand to cover her mouth while she shook her head and kept laughing freely.

“I’m sorry,” Lena said, waving her hand, before being interrupted by her own laugh. “It’s just... Fuck! That’s the worse thing you ever did in your life?” The tattoo artist looked at her again with her eyes crinkling at the sides and Kara felt her anger melting away.

“What? Did you expect a murder?”

“I was hoping that you would say you spit on her coffee, at least.”

Kara gasped. “I would never do that!”

Lena narrowed her eyes at her, a tiny smirk adorning her lips. “But you think about it, don’t you?”

“Every day,” she admitted with a groan, letting her head fall back against the chair.

The brunette laughed again and a cold hand came to rest against her thigh, making Kara’s body vibrate from head to toe. “I won’t tell your secret if you don’t tell mine.” Lena winked – winked – at her and Kara felt her throat too dry all of sudden. The woman chuckled again when the blonde gulped before she gently tapped the hard muscle of Kara’s thigh. “We’re done here.”

“Oh.” Kara blinked in surprise and her eyes immediately fell to her ribs. The skin was red and swollen, but she could see the delicate lines of the flowers and the leaves, and she was hit by the urge to cry all at once. She felt like a little girl again, being six or seven, and running to the door to meet her father, seeing the plumerias in his left hand and the chocolate on his right.

“Hey,” Lena called her gently, ducking her head to be able to catch the blue eyes again. “You're fine over there? I had people regretting tattoos before, but not so fast.”

Kara laughed and shook her head, trying to discreetly brush a tear from the corner of her eyes. “Everything is fine. It’s really beautiful.”

“Well, don’t say that before you take a better look,” Lena pushed her stool away and got up with a refreshed excitement. “Come on, stand up so you can look at it in the mirror.”

That’s what Kara did, sliding off the chair and walking with slightly trembling legs to the full body mirror that she had seen before. The fact that she still didn’t have her shirt on was in the back of her mind while her eyes traced the ink. It looked even better on her ribs than it looked on the paper and she made sure to tell the other woman that, earning a smile that she doubted she would ever be able to forget.

"Here." She turned around to see Lena's hand reaching out a piece of white chalk between her long fingers and sporting a kind of smile that Kara hadn’t seen on her yet - satisfied, the type of smile you give after accomplishing a task that meant something to you. "All of my clients have to write something on the walls. It's tradition," Lena shrugged in the end.

Kara’s eyes swept through the room again, taking in the black walls and words written in almost every inch available under a new light. There were small praises, thanks, some jokes and even a few doodles, and Kara wondered what she could write that could sum up her entire experience inside Lena's tattoo shop. She took the chalk more out of instinct, her brain still working on finding the right words, and Kara took a few steps around the room until she found the right place to write.

It was just below one of Lena's drawings that were hanging from a string, between a Scooby-Doo doodle and the message of someone saying they loved their new rose tattoo. Kara’s handwriting wasn't the best one - sloppy and crooked - and it looked even worse when she was trying to write on a wall, but she managed to write her first and last name to make it look readable. Then, she added her phone number under it and put the chalk inside the small box she found just beside her. Kara turned around making sure her body would cover what she had just written, suddenly feeling too nervous about it, and accepted the plastic foil paper Lena handed her.

"Remember to put on the ointment I told you about and keep it covered so it heals. It should be all healed in a week, tops. You're free to call if you have any doubts."

Lena led the way out of the room and they found themselves once again at the reception desk. Lena picked up the pen she had played with before and scribbled something on a piece of paper beside the computer while Kara reached out for her wallet in the pocket of her trousers. Their fingers brushed when she handed Lena the money and her face flushed red for the millionth time that night. Lena gave her a knowing smile before putting the money away and just like that they realized that they would part ways soon. A small part of Kara, primal and shameless, tried to come up with any reason that would make her stay for a while longer. Anything would do, really.

Even so, there was no reason for her to stay and Kara tried to mask her unjustified sadness by joining her hands in front of her body and forcing a smile to look real. “Thank you again.”

Lena waved a hand dismissively, the pen still hanging between two fingers, before her hand came to rest on top of the other one on the desk. “It was my pleasure.”

“If I regret it in the morning, I will come back with a vengeance,” Kara joked, swaying on her heels, and the laugh that came from the other woman was worth any type of regret she might end up having in the near future.

“As much as I would like to see you again, I would hate for that to be the reason you came back.”

Lena winked at her and Kara’s mouth hang open before she could stop herself. That made the brunette laugh in delight, made a deep blush rise from her neck to her cheeks, and Kara started taking steps back before she could embarrass herself anymore. Alex, Nia and all of their friends were right: she’s a gay disaster. None of them would be able to judge her if they just saw Lena though, of that she was sure.

Stumbling over one of the chairs, Kara let out a nervous laugh and, to her utter terror, she pointed finger guns at Lena. “Have, ah, have a good night, ma’am.”

She missed the door handle twice before she was able to open the door and, by the time she looked at Lena again, the other woman was smiling broadly at her. Ducking her head, Kara walked out the door and let it close behind her. Once the slightly chill air of the night hit her face, she closed her eyes and resisted the urge to hit herself for some very stupid decisions made inside that shop. She wondered if she would ever be able to live it down if any of her friends ever found out she just did finger guns at a beautiful woman as a way to say goodbye.

Well, to be fair, she wasn’t sure any of her friends would let her live it down when they found out about her very spontaneous tattoo.

God, Alex was going to kill her. Not for getting a tattoo, but for doing so without giving it enough thought. And, for Christ’s sake, Alex could be a real pain in the ass when she decided to lecture her for whatever reason it was. She was so not ready to deal with that.

It was only when she opened her eyes again that she realized she was still standing outside the tattoo shop – and that Lena could still very easily see her from her place behind the counter – and, with another blush, Kara pushed herself to start walking. Her apartment was only five more blocks down the street and she took that time to clear her mind from anything negative she was thinking about.

If her crazy and very unusual night taught her anything was that she had the thing inside her that could make her do some very adventurous things. She was capable of doing those things. Maybe randomly getting a tattoo wasn’t the ideal way to prove that to herself, but, damn, she had just renewed faith in herself.

Her poor attempts at flirting were the last thing on her mind when she pushed the door to her studio apartment open and stepped inside, making a beeline to where she had left her laptop earlier that day on the small kitchen table. She pulled a chair after turning the computer on and, reaching out for an apple inside the fruit bowl, she waited for the laptop to come to life so she could open a new file to start typing. She had an article to write, and a trip to plan.

XxxxxxxX

It was two days later – after Alex had scolded her for making decisions in a rush, after Nia took pictures of their tattoos side by side to post on her Instagram, after Querl had awkwardly given her a thumbs up, after James raised his eyebrows, after Winn yelped in shock – that something changed.

Kara was lazily reading something Nia had written so she could suggest some corrections before the girl submitted it to Snapper’s approval, when her phone buzzed from its place beside her mousepad – her rainbow mousepad, thanks to Winn. She picked it up, thinking it was Alex inviting her for lunch so she could yell at her a few more times, but the number who had texted her was an unsaved one. She frowned, but didn’t give it much thought before unlocking her screen to read it.

“Since you didn’t barge inside my shop to kill me, I take it that you didn’t regret it?”

The smile that curled her lips up came from within her and it was apparently too obvious because Nia, who was sitting across from her, gave her a weird look and arched one eyebrow in question. Kara shook her head, biting her bottom lip, and turned her chair around so the girl couldn’t see her anymore before typing a reply.

“I never said I was going to kill you.”

“The threat was clear to me,” came the next text just a few seconds later and Kara chuckled to herself.

“Please, don’t tell me you were scared.”

“Why do you think it took me two days to reach out?”

Kara paused at that. She had spent the last two days being sure that, despite their easy flirt with each other, Lena didn’t actually want to talk or see her again. So, to have her texting her now was really... reawakening something inside her.

“Who are you texting?”

Kara jumped on her chair, startled by Nia’s voice so close to her ear all of sudden, her phone almost slipping from her fingers and crashing on the floor. Thankfully, her reflexes were still working and she was able to grab it, but not without throwing a glare at Nia for scaring her like that. The girl gave her a sheepish smile, although she shrugged and didn’t back away from where she had perched on the corner of Kara’s desk to look over her shoulder.

“No one,” came the childish, and not at all convincing, reply and Kara didn’t need to look at her friend again to know she was busted. Now Nia was not going to let it down.

“Really? Because you have been smiling to your phone for five minutes and you just smile like that when Alex says she’s bringing extra potstickers for game night.” Nia smirked and leaned over, trying to read the texts again, but Kara quickly pressed the phone against her chest to block her view.

“Alex just invited me for lunch,” Kara attempted to throw her off.

However, Nia arched her eyebrows. “Really? Because I just texted Kelly asking her to go to that vegan place with me and she said she already has plans.” A pause. “With Alex.” Another pause. “For lunch.”

Kara groaned and turned her chair so she was facing her computer again, slipping her phone screen down on the table. “Fine, it wasn’t Alex, but I’m not going to say anything.”

“Okay.” Her friend gave up way too faster than usual and Kara watched her with narrowed eyes as the girl jumped from her desk to turn the corner back to her own cubicle. Nia was about to sit down when she tried to snatch Kara’s phone away with one surprisingly fast move, but the blonde was even faster, taking it out of her reach in the last second. “Damn.”

Kara rolled her eyes and pushed her chair back. She grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair, throwing it over her shoulders and slipping her phone inside one of the pockets, and threw an overly sweet, clearly fake, smile at Nia. “Now you will have to eat alone because I won’t have lunch with you either.”

Nia stuck her tongue out at her. “I will call Querl!”

Kara waited until she was safely inside the elevator before opening her texts again. There were three more texts since the last time she looked and a smile immediately spread over her face when she read them.

“Okay, I confess, I was a little nervous.”

“You still there? You didn’t change your mind, did you?”

“About the tattoo, not the... leaving your name and number on my wall thing.”

She barely noticed when someone entered the elevator a few floors below, too focused on replying to the texts.

“You? Nervous? You don’t look like the type of girl that gets nervous. And no, I didn’t change my mind about any of those things, actually.”

A new text only came after she was already walking down the street to Noonan’s, but she wrote a quick text to invite Winn for lunch before opening Lena’s text.

“I’m also not the type to text any of the numbers left on my walls. And good.”

“Do you get a lot of numbers on your walls?” Kara asked and she had to make a conscious effort to cross the street to Noonan’s instead of walking straight for a few more blocks to the tattoo shop. She could picture Lena leaning against the counter with her gorgeous smirk and her impressive tattoos – and even more impressive cleavage.

“Jack enjoys them more than I do.”

Kara was about to make a comment about Jack but another text came in before she could and she stopped in her tracks so suddenly that the man walking behind her shoved against her shoulder. She tripped over a few steps, but quickly held herself again to read the words over and over in disbelief. She hoped, of course, but that was... wow.

“I don’t want to be too straightforward here, or overly confident or something, but I have a client coming in five minutes, so I don’t have much time. This won’t sound romantic at all, but would you like to have dinner with me? Tomorrow?”

Kara didn’t have to think too much about her answer, of course. Alex would give her a piece of her mind for agreeing to go out with someone she barely knew – and ‘that’s the whole point of going out to meet people’ was not a good argument on her sister’s book – but Kara would deal with it later. Right now, she had a very gorgeous woman asking her out and she already knew what her answer would be.

“I would love to.”

“What? Really?” Kara chuckled at the rushed text she received back, but another one came just a second later. “Pretend you didn’t read that. I meant ‘okay, great!’.”

Chuckling again, Kara typed a new message. “I know you were the one who asked me out, but may I suggest a place? I don’t have a car and it’s close to both of our workplaces.”

“Whatever you want, just text me address. Let’s say, tomorrow at 7 pm?”

“Can’t wait.”

XxxxxxxX

“Hey, Kara?”

“Yes?” She asked, not taking her eyes away from her computer screen and typing away as fast as she could to be able to put all the ideas in her new article. She had never written like that before, but she wasn’t about to complain about small inspirations spikes.

“The front desk called and said there’s a pack for Cat downstairs. Can you pick it up?”

With a small sigh, not because she was mad at Winn for interrupting her but because she would have to go all out of the way to pick a pack she didn’t even know was going to come in, Kara saved her file and pushed her chair back. Nia glanced up and was about to remove her earphones, ready to follow Kara to whatever she was going to learn more about the journalism world, but the blonde made some gestures with her hand that she hoped meant ‘boring things, stay here’ before she started making her way to the elevator.

Jenny, the woman that stayed at the front desk, was kind, around Eliza’s age, and very chatty, which worked fine with Kara when she wanted to waste a few minutes talking along. “Good morning, Kara! How are you?”

“I’m great, Jenny. And you?”

“I’m fine. What happened? I recognize that smile.”

Kara tilted her head to the side, although she couldn’t stop smiling, doesn’t matter how hard she was trying. “What smile?”

Jenny narrowed her eyes and waved a finger at her playfully. “That’s the smile of someone who had a very good night.”

The blonde could feel her face heating up and a nervous chuckle escaped her lips before she could stop herself. She had been leaning against the counter, but she leaned her torso back and tapped her fingers against the hard surface nervously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right,” Jenny scoffed, rolled her eyes and started pulling out the packages that she would need to take upstairs with her. There was a yellow thing that was sent by one of the photographers of the last shooting they made, some letters and a few small boxes, which made Kara believe Jenny had been holding those things with her for at least a few days. Cat hadn’t asked for any of that, so it wasn’t a problem. “Don’t tell me then. You don’t have to. Is all over your face.”

Blushing even harder, Kara huffed an anxious laugh and looked down at the counter. She put one hand on her hip as the other one raised to push her glasses up her nose, but she kept her eyes down to avoid seeing the smirk on Jenny’s face. She would have to agree with her, if she did. Because she knew it was, in fact, written all over her face. She hadn’t been able to stop smiling since she woke up that morning – who was she kidding? It had been like that since dinner last night.

It had a reason – and the reason had a name – but she was not going to share any personal details about her life with Jenny. The old woman had the tendency to share everyone’s secrets – which was another reason Kara liked to talk with her so much, but she would never admit to being a gossip girl. She did tell Nia, mostly because her friend wouldn’t stop asking why Kara was fifteen minutes late that morning, though she had made the girl promise not to tell anyone.

It was still pretty new, she had argued.

��If you two slept together, it’s not that new,” Nia had teased back, making her face turn red so fast that James, that had been coming back from the bathroom, asked if she was feeling well.

Even if the whole ‘sleeping together on the first date’ thing was new to her, Kara hadn’t regretted it in the morning. Much like the tattoo. Although, it would be remarkably harder to regret sleeping with Lena when the said woman was spooning her from behind than it was to regret a tattoo that recquired a lot of afterward care. Either way, Kara was living the best morning in her life and it clearly showed on her face.

“Looks like you’re not the only one who’s having a great time.” Jenny’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts and Kara looked up in time to see the woman pulling a big bouquet from under the counter.

The flowers looked cheap and scruffy, which made it seem like someone had just thrown them together without much care. They were yellow and pink daisies, the colors clashed and didn’t work well together, but the card hidden between the flowers was black and easy to see. She knew she shouldn’t because it had her boss’ name outside the card and it was clearly not for her to see, but curiosity took the best of her – that and the fact that the card had been clearly already open, and by Jenny’s face she knew who had done it.

“Thank you – L”

Well, that wasn’t helpful at all.

Sighing and feeling silly for stealing a look, she put the card back and started to try to find a way to pick everything she needed to take back with her. She knew there was a small cart some other companies in the building used to transport stocks and other products, but she was sure she could use her hands if she just pilled everything right. Kara had just come up with a plan when Jenny spoke again.

“There’s also this one. It doesn’t have a card, but it came with the bouquet. Same delivery. The guy couldn’t say anything about it, but I’m sure we can find something if we call the shop and...”

“I think there’s no need,” Kara interrupted gently, without looking up from the growing pile in one of her hands, but she raised her head eventually.

Only to lose track of every thought she was having.

Jenny had put a single plumeria on top of the counter. As the woman had said, there was no card or any type of identification – who it came from or who was supposed to receive it – but Kara connected the dots quite easily. Smiling, she reached over to grab the simple flower and brought it closer to her face to smell it.

“Oh, I see.”

“I have to go!” Kara said suddenly, knowing everyone in the building would know she had just randomly smelled a flower at the front desk that morning. “See you, Jen!”

The look on Cat’s face when Kara gave her the bouquet, not offering any other explanation othan than that there was a card attached to it, was worth every step on the stairs she had to walk up, holding the woman’s coffee every morning. As soon as she was back to her desk, Kara pulled her phone from her pocket and sent a text before Nia could start asking any questions.

“Thought you said that you’re not good with romance.”

The reply didn’t come right away, Kara ended up putting her phone to the side and went back to work. However, as soon as it rang beside her, she grabbed it.

“Guess we’re both learning new things about ourselves. Want to have lunch together?”

And, yes, she totally did.

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sweetdreamhellofanight · 3 years

Text

Matchmaker

Noam Dar x Reader Warnings: None Word Count: 1,538 Summary: “Nothing to worry about,” he said. It made you worry even more.

“What do you think of her?” he asked, sliding his phone in front of you, forcing your attention onto him.

You shrugged. She looked like every other woman he’d shown you,

“She looks nice,” you said.

“You’ve said that about everyone,” he replied.

“They’re all nice, Noam, I don’t know what you want me to say,” you said.

He sat back and sighed,

“I think no,” he said, and swiped left.

You shook your head, but went back to your own work,

“What about you?” he asked, trying to peer over your screen.

You ignored him,

“I’ve never seen your profile on here,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows, “how have we not matched? I thought I was your dream man?”

You groaned loudly, and watched him frown,

“I don’t do dating apps anymore,” you said. “Don’t have the time.”

“Oh I see,” he said, moving so that he could sit next to you, “an old fashioned one, aren’t you?” he teased.

“I’m not looking,” you said.

“Of course you’re not, you’re a busy woman, you’ve got too much on your plate,” he said, one arm around your chair, the other propped up under his chin, watching you with a smile that was too excited to make you feel good. “Shame though, a woman like yourself shouldn’t be alone.”

“Thank you?” you said.

“And if you don’t have the time, well…” he trailed off.

“Noam,” you said, warningly, “whatever you’re planning, do not.”

He shook his head,

“Not planning anything, sweetheart,” he said, with a wink.

You turned to face him, fully, now,

“I’m serious,” you said.

Still, he smiled wide, nose scrunched, eyes nearly shut as he shook his head,

“Nothing to worry about,” he said.

It made you worry even more.

But he left before you could say anything else, yelling after him though you knew he was ignoring it.

***

“Here,” he said, sliding his phone over to you. You stared at him for a moment, afraid to look down at what he was about to show you. “It’s not for me,” he said.

“That’s why I’m worried,” you said.

He smiled,

“Just take a look!”

“Tyler Bate?” you asked.

He shrugged,

“You just want me to distract him before your match against him,” you said, pushing his phone back.

“Smart girl,” he said with a wink, and you had to pretend as if it did nothing for you. “But you’re right, I’d never set you up with him. How about him?”

The next picture was Ariya, and while there was no denying how handsome Ariya was, you knew there was no chance you two would ever work out.

So you shook your head,

“We don’t fit,” you said.

“You could!” Noam said.

You smiled, turning back to your own work,

“You’re sweet to say that but he’s not my type,” you replied.

“He’s Ariya Daivari, he’s everyone’s type,” he said.

“So you date him, then,” you said.

“I’m out of his league,” he responded, flexing his arms for you, kissing his bicep.

You rolled your eyes,

“Of course you are.”

“Listen, if I tell Ariya about you there’s no chance he’ll say no,” he continued.

“I’m sure he’s already got someone, I mean look at him, that doesn’t stay single, you know?” you replied, trying desperately to change the subject.

“He’d settle down for you,” he said.

You tried not to smile, knowing it didn’t mean what you wanted it to mean.

But it was still sweet that he said it.

“I’m gonna pass,” you said.

“I’ll keep looking,” he said as he left the room, eyes glued to his phone.

“You don’t have to do that!” you called after him.

But it didn’t stop him.

Any moment alone with Noam was a moment where he tried to point out any man around you, gauging your interest.

“I’ve got it, Fabian Aichner,” he announced as you picked him up to go out for lunch.

“I thought you hated him?” you asked.

“I don’t hate him!” he said, defensively, “I just said I don’t think there’s too much going on up there in that bald head of his.”

“Don’t be mean, Noam,” you said.

“So you’ll go out with him?”

“Well not after you said that,” you said.

He nodded,

“What about his pal, Barthel?” he asked.

“I’m good,” you said.

“You’re right, they’re more of a package deal, can’t have one without the other,” he said.

The next week he’d found you at the gym and continued his search there, trying to set you up on a date with James Drake while you both were in the middle of a workout.

You apologized to James, but it was Noam who’d caught most of the heat from him.

It did make you laugh, though, so it wasn’t a terrible outcome in the end.

The week after he’d moved away from the UK roster, settling on the 205 boys you knew so well, positive that he’d find you someone from that line up.

“You said no to Ariya,” he said, laying on your couch while you cleaned up. You nudged his foot with the vacuum and he hung both his legs over the arm of the couch. “Which I still don’t understand, but what about Oney Lorcan?” he asked.

You paused, as you put the vacuum away.

Longer than you should’ve, you realized, making Noam smile again as though he’d cracked your code,

“Ah so that’s it, is it?” he asked, sitting up and pulling his phone out.

This time, he didn’t slide it towards you, didn’t ask any follow up questions, but typed something out quickly which made you panic.

“Please don’t!” you said, trying to grab his phone out of his hands,

“No, it’s too late,” he said, holding it out of reach. “He has your number, and says he’s going to ask you to go out tomorrow night.”

You lunged at him, but Noam was faster.

“I’m going to kill you,” you said as he tried to move out of reach.

“What’s wrong with Oney?” he asked.

“Nothing! But why would you set him up with me before telling me?” you asked.

“Because you two would be perfect together!” he said.

You sighed, taking a seat on the couch.

“Why are you trying so hard to set me up?” you asked.

He shrugged, taking a seat beside you,

“Why not?” he asked. “You deserve to be happy.”

“What if I am happy already?” you asked.

“Are you?” he asked.

You nodded, turning your head to look at him.

Both of you, with your heads resting on the back of the couch, staring at each other.

“Yeah,” you said, quietly, “I am.”

“I just thought…” he started, looking away, “you deserve someone who’s...good to you.”

Your stomach churned and your heart beat faster, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to say what was on your mind, what was on the tip of your tongue.

“Oney’s not really my type,” you said, quietly, smiling at him.

He sighed and nodded,

“So what is your type?” he asked.

“Well…” you started, looking up at the ceiling instead of at him. “Not too much taller than me, I don’t really want permanent neck pain for some guy.”

He chuckled, but didn’t interrupt so you kept going.

“Someone who can make me laugh, you know? They don’t even have to be funny, but they gotta be willing to make me laugh.”

He kept nodding.

“Curly hair, preferably. I like the way it feels when I run my hands through it.”

Now he watched you through the corner of his eyes, but you didn’t look at him.

“Looks good with and without facial hair. I need that duality in my life. Also, if he’s got facial hair, he’s gotta keep it trim and proper.”

His hand instinctively went to cheek, but tried to play it off as though he only needed to scratch it.

“Oh and he’s gotta have a nice, thick, Scottish accent,” you added with an exaggerated sigh.

“You devil, you know Kenny Williams is a married man,” he teased.

You turned to him, trying not to laugh as you hit him on the arm.

“You dumbass,” you scolded, “I’m not talking about Kenny Williams.”

“Then who’re you talking about?” he asked, moving closer to you, his voice getting softer.

And you took a chance.

Because you were tired of pretending you didn’t feel like this, like it wasn’t going to lead anywhere.

And you pulled his face towards you and kissed him.

And when he pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his arms around your waist, and moaned as you tangled your hands in his hair, you knew it was all real.

It wasn’t just in your head, it wasn’t just a dumb crush.

You and Noam.

He pulled back, breathless, lips red and slightly puffed,

“I think you should tell Oney it’s a no from me,” you said, softly.

He smiled, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned back in,

“I never texted him,” he said.

“Then what did you do?” you asked, slightly worried again.

“I made dinner reservations for us,” he whispered.

“Bastard,” you whispered.

“I’m your bastard now,” he replied, kissing you again.

#nxt uk fanfiction #noam dar #noam dar x reader #my writing #****#i don't think i've written for him before but uh hey there #he's annoying and sweet looking and has curly hair so like ??? noam call me if you're free

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moonbeambucky · 3 years

Text

A Wealth of Love

Pairing: Hal Carter x Reader Word Count: 5618 Warnings: fluff, light angst

Summary: The only thing Hal Carter is wealthy in is love but will his forbidden romance last when his past comes back to haunt him?

A/N: This is my submission for @baezen The other guys writing challenge. My prompt was “Those things you said yesterday…Did you mean them?” Thank you to my love @all1e23 for beta reading 🍕❤️ pic source (x)

Bright sunlight streams in through the windows made brighter by the all white finishings of the large kitchen. This particular afternoon is a hot one, more humid than the last few days and Y/N knows that not everyone can enjoy the comforts of her family’s perfectly air conditioned home.

A quick search through the cabinets and she finds two large mason jars. Pulling open the fridge she takes out the pitcher of lemonade and in the oversized pantry she pulls out the container of muffins she made earlier that morning. She hums a tune mindlessly as she fills one jar with lemonade, nearly startled by a voice behind her.

“Is this really necessary Y/N?” her stepmother asked, with frustration laced in her tone.

Y/N is quiet as she sets the pitcher down, screwing on the lid and making sure it was tight. With a quiet roll of her eyes she resumed what she was doing.

“At least you aren’t using the good glassware.” Y/N ignored her snippy comment, having learned not to engage her in conversations like this.

She sets her items in a basket, filling the other mason jar with ice as the final step before she leaves through the backdoor, finally letting out her own frustrated huff when she was no longer in earshot of her stepmother.

Y/N walked down the freshly manicured grass of the expansive acreage to get to the large white barn where Hal Carter was hard at work. He was the stable hand and has been working for Y/N’s family for almost two years.

Hal was six feet tall, with strong arms made stronger every day by the work he does. The outline of his muscles could be seen through the plaid button downs he would wear and sometimes take off on the days when he was already overheating in thick jeans and boots. A gentle smile accompanied beautiful blue eyes and soft brown hair that would start to curl when sweat soaked his strands.

Y/N liked seeing Hal, not just because of how incredible he looks as sweat shines over his body- the image of him lifting his shirt to wipe at his brow, exposing a perfectly carved stomach will forever be seared in her mind- but because he’s kind to her and he doesn’t expect anything from her unlike the rest of the world.

Her father doesn’t understand Y/N’s silly little dream of being a teacher. She had just completed her first year of having her own class and honestly he had hoped the whole ordeal had turned her off. He doesn’t see the point of working anywhere that pays so little and she’s tired of having arguments with him about forgetting his own roots, busting his ass with two jobs and still barely making ends meet until he found success with a patent which launched his business. He would scoff at his past, ashamed of the fact that he wasn’t born into wealth like his wife.

Unlike her father who felt she should be at a job earning a lot, Y/N’s stepmother didn’t understand why she wanted to work at all. If it were up to her she would have her married off to William Archer III. He was an investment banker who also came from money like Y/N, having attended the same private school but that’s where their similarities ended.

Y/N was disgusted by his attitude and how little William cared for anyone other than himself. He was a spoiled rich kid that hasn’t worked a real day in his life and never would. His company was his father’s as it was his father’s before him, and the only thing William was actually good at was profiting off the backs of those who work ten times as hard at a fraction of what he makes.

William constantly pursued Y/N because she turned him down. He liked the challenge, thinking of her as nothing more than game to be hunted, another one of his hobbies that Y/N despises, but instead of mounting her head on the wall he’ll mount her on display around his arm as a picture perfect trophy wife.

Hal was surprised by Y/N’s refreshing demeanor from the start. He knows his role as staff but unlike the rest of her family Y/N has never made him feel less than. She was a kindhearted soul and quite frankly sometimes he doesn't believe she’s actually related to them.

The first time Hal met Y/N he was cleaning out one of the stalls in the stables. He took a moment to pause and wipe the sweat from his brow, nearly jumping out of his skin when he saw her standing there. She was beautiful, there was no doubt in his mind about that, and even more beautiful as she stood there flashing a radiant smile as she apologized for scaring him. She was coming in to check on one the horses, Percy, to see firsthand if his stomach issues had gotten better.

The smell alone in the stables was enough to keep her family away but Y/N didn’t mind at all, grabbing a manure fork of her own before Hal had the chance to protest so she could inspect the droppings herself.

“He’s doing much better now Miss Y/L/N,” Hal said. She took note of the slightest hint of a Midwest accent in his voice though it was mostly undetectable.

“I’m so happy to hear that,” she beamed, setting the fork aside and stepping forward to see the horses enjoying their day on the open lawn. She spotted Percy grazing on the grass and her heart lifted, glad to see that he was doing better. “Oh, and it’s just Y/N,” she said, looking over her shoulder back at Hal.

The formality her parents required from those they employ is not for her. Y/N knew they were privileged to have a group of people working for them, in the house and on the grounds; but Y/N always felt her parents would forget that these people were actual humans with lives that didn’t and shouldn’t revolve around their family and not robotic slaves meant to carry out all their wishes without complaint.

Hal gave a respectable nod to her, curbing his smile to a professional one as he excused himself back to work.

Their interactions increased over time, especially with Y/N spending a lot of time with her favorite horse Penelope. She liked to brush her down and bring her apples she picked from the trees on property, and whenever they went riding Hal couldn’t take his eyes off her.

When Y/N was saddled up on Penelope’s back it seemed like it was the only time she truly felt in control of her life. It was true. Riding allowed her the time to clear her mind and with the wind in her hair she let go of everything outside of that moment.

But there was one thing that she couldn’t shake from her thoughts, Hal Carter.

It didn’t take long before for their friendship to develop and quite soon after a forbidden romance. It was something they worked hard at, deleting texts right after sending them, hiding their pictures together. Y/N’s stepmother had a tendency to snoop so she did everything she could to protect their relationship.

Hal tasted the lemonade from her lips, his calloused hands wrapped around Y/N’s waist, backing her up towards the wall to steal more of the sweetness he couldn’t get enough of and he didn’t mean the drink.

Her lips were soft against his, a heavenly touch that set every part of him aflame. The idea of sneaking around made both their hearts race, every noise keeping them on edge with “what ifs” racing through their minds. If they were caught Hal would surely be fired and though they wouldn’t have to hide their relationship any more that’s not something Y/N wanted.

Hal rarely spoke to her about money; she understood and didn’t push the issue. She knew his financial situation wasn’t the best and that despite her parent’s attitude towards the staff they actually paid them surprisingly well. It wasn’t something he ever flaunted but it wasn’t something neither of them could deny.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel like all of this could slip away from him, that one day Y/N will wake up and realize what a big mistake she made. She could date anybody, someone her parents’ won’t turn their nose up to, someone who could afford to take her out. Not even to a fancy place because Hal knows she doesn’t care about that but he’s ashamed he can’t even take her anywhere.

“Darlin’, you deserve everything.” The corner of his lips sunk into a frown as he sighed, “And I can’t give you that.”

“Hal, I have everything and I don’t want it, I only want you.”

He was shocked by her admission, still finding it hard to believe. “I’m nothing Y/N. I have nothing. I’m lucky I even have this job.”

She brushed the hair away from his eyes, letting her hand move down cup the soft skin of his cheek, warm against her palm. “What do you want Hal? You don’t have to work for my family forever. Whatever’s holding you back I’ll help.”

He smiled, taking her hand off his cheek to kiss the delicate knuckles of her skin. She knows what he’s doing, changing the subject when he doesn’t want to answer. Again, she doesn’t push him.

“Follow me,” he said, letting go of her hands.

They walk along the fence of the pasture, down the slope of a small hill before they stop at a bright red maple tree. Hal adjusts Y/N to stand in the right spot, his solid frame behind her, leaning in as he points his finger up between the branches.

“Can you see?” he asked, and she tried to follow the line of sight for his finger.

She isn’t sure what she’s looking for until she sees it, the slightest movement of a robin moving its head, spying on them from her nest.

“She’s been sittin’ on those eggs for a week now,” Hal said, smiling because he knows Y/N’s love of animals is not just for horses. They’ll be hatching soon and he can’t wait to bring her to see them.

If this is what their dates are for now then Hal doesn’t mind it at all. Any time spent with her he’s grateful for but Y/N knows she’s been gone for too long and knowing her stepmother she probably set a timer the moment Y/N walked out of the door.

Back in the stables she packs up the empty mason jars and reluctantly says goodbye. Hal holds her close as they kiss, the slip of his tongue in her mouth makes her yearn for more. A soft hum bubbles in her throat before she grabs the back of his head, deepening the kiss as their tongues dance together.

They get carried away and Hal falls back into a pile of hay, protecting Y/N in his arms as she falls on top of him. With a final press to his lips she gets up, extending her hands out to Hal to pull him up. He helps wipe off any hay that may have gotten attached to her, watching her figure get smaller the further she walks away from him as she makes her way back to the main house.

With a heavy sigh Hal gets back to work, knowing for now their secret is kept by the horses, the only ones who seemed to be rooting for them.

“What took you so long?” Her stepmother scowled, throwing her a sharp accusatory glare.

Y/N rolled her eyes, opening the basket to take out the mason jars. Over her shoulder she responded, “You know how I like to spend time with Penelope.”

As she washes the glasses Y/N can’t see the disapproving shake of her stepmother’s head, especially as she sees a strand of hay stuck on the fabric of Y/N’s leg. She doesn’t say anything. The clack of her heels echo through the large home as she stomps her way out of the kitchen, not liking this one bit.

Y/N comes down the grand stairway when dinner is ready, her hand languidly gliding down the banister. It’s not that she didn’t want to eat with her parents, she didn’t mind their company as long as they didn’t pester her about the things that parents do, but she was tired of seeing them.

Going away for college had been a wonderful escape, to be Y/N Y/L/N, regular college student and not the girl with a rich family. Her father was right, teaching does not pay well but she isn’t doing it for the money. However she did need to save a bit so she could move out and finally be on her own. She had assets in a trust fund but she refused to use them, wanting to prove to her family that she didn’t need their money.

“There she is,” the somewhat familiar voice of a man called out.

Y/N lifted her head, frozen in shock to find William Archer III sitting at her dining table.

A cheshire cat smile stretched across her stepmother’s face. “Look who came by!” she feigned surprise. Y/N knew her stepmother had called him the moment she left to see Hal.

There was plenty of space at the table but most of the chairs had been removed, leaving only one open and unsurprisingly it was next to William. Y/N plastered a smile to her face and held the back of the chair, moving it as far away from him as she could before she was scolded by her stepmother. It was embarrassing, especially when her father chimed in to remind her that they don’t treat guests this way. If only they knew what he was really like. Reluctantly, she returned the chair to its spot next to him though she kept a greater distance than where it was originally.

Y/N wondered if she was the only one who noticed the way William would speak wildly with his hands, these big gestures that involved movement of his whole body giving him an excuse to adjust his chair again and somehow he had ended up right beside her. She ignored him as best as she could, moving her leg away each time his hand “just happened” to brush against her thigh.

She tries her best to be pleasant despite the very unpleasant circumstances, making small talk when William didn’t talk over her.

“Hal says the robin chicks will be born soon. I can’t wait to see them,” Y/N beamed, her smile fading as she caught the tail end of her stepmother’s eye roll.

“Oh, I didn’t know Hal was an avian expert now. Honey perhaps we should give him a raise, a man with such an extensive animal background,” her stepmother said sarcastically.

“That’s because he is one!” William chimed in, bursting out with a round of belly aching laughter, a duet with her stepmother’s own cackling.

Y/N expected that from her but she was even more disappointed to see her father snickering.

“That’s enough!” She slammed her hand against the table, the flame of the candlesticks wobbling back to a steady flicker. “I’m sick and tired of all you thinking you’re better than Hal or anyone else just because you have money. It’s disgusting.”

Her father clenched his jaw, “I know you like to forget this Y/N but you have money too. Stop acting like it’s something you’re so ashamed of. I worked hard to give us what we have.”

“Did you?” she asked accusingly. “Because it’s been so long since you had to bust your ass like Hal I think you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a decent person!”

Her stepmother balked in disgust. “Young lady you do not speak to your father this way.”

Y/N ignored her as she got up from the table, stomping her way out of the house. The evening air was cool and she felt immediate relief on her skin that burned hot after her emotionally fueled eruption. Her stepmother has always been a snob but she hates the fact that her father has lost touch with reality.

“Hey.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose upon hearing William’s voice, the last person she wanted to ever see. Hal was in the distance, working late and she was hoping to say goodbye to him before he left. Now that William’s here she can’t.

Turning around she huffed, not hiding her contempt. William’s hands were up in a small attempt to convey that he wasn’t looking for trouble.

“Are you okay?” His tone seemed sincere but Y/N kept her guard up. “I know you don’t like me but I do care about you Y/N. I always have.”

She knows better than to trust him but something inside her breaks and she lets out a shuddering sob. Y/N didn’t want to feel the way she does about her parents but she can’t help it. She wished her parents were better people, she wished she could openly speak to them about how she feels, and not having to hide her relationship with Hal. She wishes things were different.

William hesitantly offers a hug and in desperation Y/N takes it, crying against him. “It’ll be okay,” he comforts, rubbing her back.

With her back turned she doesn’t see the smirk on William’s face as he spots Hal in the distance. He lets Y/N pull away, feeling comfortable enough to have gained his trust for a moment before he acts. Like a leech he grabs her face, forcing her lips to his, his tongue probing forcefully into her mouth.

Y/N is pushing him off with her hands as best as she could, scrunching her face and whipping her head around to get away from him. Her efforts don’t take her very far as his lips get closer again so instead she kicks him in between his legs.

William doubles over in pain. “You little bitch!” he sneered, grabbing her by the hair as she tried to run away.

His clenched hand raised to her but immediately felt his arm wrench back. He was turned around forcibly by Hal, whose own fist socked William right in the jaw. The hard punch took the coward down and while he was busy screaming expletives Hal went to Y/N.

“Darlin’, did he hurt you?” The softness of Hal’s voice brought tears to her eyes that fell down her cheeks as she shook her head. She found true comfort in Hal’s arms, apologizing for what had happened. “Shhh, you have nothin’ to apologize for,” he reassured her.

“You’ll pay for putting your hands on me y-you… dirty lowlife scum!” William threatened, walking away from them.

Hal’s jaw clenched with anger but Y/N’s gentle palm caressing his cheek made him release his tension.

“I’m sorry Hal,” she said, and once again he stopped her but this time with a soft kiss to her lips. Y/N had nothing to be sorry for but on nights like this Hal felt sorry for her, thinking she wouldn’t have to go through this if she gave her heart to a better man than him.

There’s a knocking at her door and before she can get up her stepmother has already let herself into Y/N’s room. “We need to talk about what happened...” she said, settling down on Y/N’s bed beside her. Y/N braced herself for a lecture before her stepmother finished. “...after you left.”

Relief washed over her believing the serious look on her stepmother’s face was not meant to scold her but about what happened with William.

“I hope you saw what I’ve been telling you, William is–”

“William? Y/N no, this is about Hal.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed with confusion. “Hal?”

“He assaulted William. Your father and I need to reconsider his employment.”

She stared at her stepmother in disbelief. Was she actually naive enough to believe what William told her? Y/N answered her own question as her stepmother continued to talk about “poor William” and how he had to drive home holding a bag of ice to his face.

“William is a liar. He forced himself on me! Hal was only trying to protect me. How do you not see this?”

Her stepmother took Y/N’s hand in her own, awkward and unsure if this felt right or not. She was unable to have children of her own and perhaps that’s why she treated Y/N so poorly from the start, resenting her and never truly accepting her as her daughter. Y/N was passed off to au pairs and maids to be cared for as her stepmother went shopping or to the spa. Y/N has always felt disconnected to her stepmother and even more so now.

“Sweetheart, I know men like Hal. They’re fine to look at but they can’t provide for you, not the way William can.”

“You don’t know the first thing abou–” Y/N’s cheek stung at the unexpected slap she received.

“Don’t tell me what I know because I know exactly what you’ve been up to with Hal. Stay away from him. Hal is not the one for you.”

Y/N rose from her bed, stomping as she paced in front of her stepmother, waving her finger in her face as she told her off.

“I’m leaving. I’m going to get Hal and we’re leaving and there’s nothing you can do about that!”

“He isn’t here.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed at her stepmother, her nostrils flaring, teeth clenching together as she hissed, “What did you do?”

“Nothing! He asked for the day off, though his days are numbered. As soon as we find someone to take his position…” her stepmother said without hiding the joy in her voice. She sauntered out of Y/N’s room feeling proud, not giving a single care she broke down crying.

Her vision was clouded by tears as she texted Hal, wondering why he didn’t tell her he wouldn’t be there today. It took a few hours for him to respond, every waiting minute adding to her anxiety but when he finally did she was able to take a deep breath. Hal reassured her that he was fine and wondered if she could meet him later.

Y/N told her family she was going shopping as she headed out, instead she drove to Hal’s. They were only twenty minutes apart and yet they lived in such different worlds. The homes in Hal’s area were older, small ranch style houses on lots smaller than her home’s driveway. She had so much more than this community and yet they had everything she wanted.

She sees a dog being walked by a couple, hand in hand as they stroll down the sidewalk not worried about hiding their love. Y/N comes to a stop in the street to let the children playing move to the side. She gives a friendly smile as she slowly rolls past them, seeing their happy faces in the rear view mirror. She wonders if anyone can see how she aches behind her smile, desperate to be as happy as them one day. She parks behind his truck on the street and texts that she’s there.

When Hal came to New York he was sleeping in his truck, desperate for a place to stay. His friend Peter offered him a room which Hal helped close off and renovate into an unofficial one bedroom apartment in the back of the house. Peter needed the cash to pay his mortgage so it worked out for both of them.

Y/N had been over a dozen times but Hal was embarrassed every time she did. His place was small but he kept it as nice as he could. He didn’t have much furniture, a bed, a pretty beat up looking couch, a small table that barely fit in his small kitchen. She told him over and over how she didn’t care about material things and deep down Hal knows that but he can’t help those feelings anyway.

She runs into his arms, enveloped by his warmth as he squeezes her tight. “I missed you darlin’,” he cooed as he tips her chin with his fingers, pressing his lips to hers.

“What happened today?” Y/N can’t help the worry woven through her words.

He takes her by the hand and they sit on his bed; he never liked Y/N sitting on that dirty couch of his.

“I had something to take care of today… for our future.” She looks at him with hopeful eyes. “I had some trouble in my past, surprised it didn’t catch up to me yet to be honest. Once this is over I can work anywhere, we can live that life we want darlin’.”

Tears roll down her cheek, their path altered by the curve of her smile. Hal’s thumb brushes them away gently, bringing his lips to her forehead and after the softness of her lips. Clothes are slowly discarded and Hal takes his time making love to her, joining her passionate cries with moans of his own as they peak together to the heights of bliss.

He cradles her in his arms, his fingertips grazing soft circles over her back as they lay together for as long as they could, knowing Y/N would have to leave soon. The time comes sooner than they wanted and with reluctance they get dressed.

A knock at the door startled them both, the sound of a voice even more shocking.

“Y/N! I know you’re in there!” her stepmother taunted, banging roughly against the glass pane of the screen door.

Her jaw dropped open in shock as she could only think about what a psycho her stepmother was. “Did she follow me?” Y/N whispered to Hal, panic washing over her.

There was no point in hiding anymore, not if her parents really were firing Hal, and if that was a bluff they most certainly would now.

Hand in hand they proudly step out from his door onto the small pathway on the side of the house. It’s there when Y/N’s jaw drops in shock to see William standing beside her stepmother, the two of them standing shoulder to shoulder with two police officers.

“That’s him,” William points at Hal, a smug look plastered on his face.

A man as tall as Hal took a step towards him, roughly separating his hand from Y/N’s as he began to cuff his hands behind his back, reading him his rights as he walked Hal towards the police car parked crookedly in the driveway.

“What are you doing?” Y/N pleaded for an answer.

William answered her question, informing Y/N that Hal had a warrant out for his arrest for auto theft in Kansas. She realized that’s what Hal must have been talking about.

“I have friends everywhere Y/N and I will make this harder for him unless…” William tried to lace his fingers with hers but Y/N quickly snapped her arm away.

She watched helplessly as Hal was stuffed into the back of the car, wiping away the tears that began to fall. Her stepmother sauntered up beside her, making some comment about how appalled she was that she had a fugitive working for her, that’s when Y/N snapped.

“Enough! I don’t give a shit what you say. Fugitive or not Hal’s a better person than you’ll ever be. I love him, I love him with every piece of my heart and I’m going to do everything in my power to stop this.”

The car drove away with Hal craning his neck around, not knowing if he would ever be able to see Y/N again.

“Hal! Are you okay?” Y/N said, hugging him with all her might.

The breeze on his skin felt nice but it was nothing compared to having her in his arms again. “Much better now darlin’,” he replied, squeezing his arms around her.

Hal spent the night in jail, calling Y/N to ask for her help. He explained everything, that back in Kansas he had borrowed his friend Alan’s car to take a girl named Madge out on a date. Alan’s jealousy got the best of him and he reported the car as stolen. They haven’t spoken since.

Once Y/N got Hal’s call she contacted her attorney, sought out every Alan Seymour she could find before she narrowed it down to the one he went to college with. She spent all morning working with the attorney to have him stop the extradition proceedings and arrange for bail instead. She couldn’t think of a better thing to use the money from her trust fund on.

“I’m so sorry about all of this darlin’, I never meant for it to come out like this. Alan coulda taken it back then but he was still mad ‘nd probably worried about lyin’ to the police.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for Hal,” she assured him, cupping his cheeks with her hand. He pressed against her palm, his lips pulling into a small smile as he looked at her. “I can’t believe my stepmother had you arrested. I hate her. I hate my father. I hate what they’ve become. Let’s go away together.”

As the words fell from her lips every part of Hal’s body stiffened with worry. He was about to ask a question before Y/N interrupted him.

“I’m done with them Hal. I don’t care how hard I have to work to put this behind us. We’ll get through this together because that’s how I want to spend the rest of our lives.”

It was hard to hide the way Hal’s lips were pressed into a thin smile. He didn’t tell Y/N the full story, that Madge came with him when he left Kansas, to get away from her family too. By the time they got into Missouri she turned around, realizing she couldn’t leave them.

This was different though. Hal didn’t care if Madge came or not, he didn’t feel the same way about her as he does with Y/N, which is why this is so hard for him.

“Those things you said yesterday…Did you mean them?” Hal asked, holding her hands in his. Y/N nodded and Hal let out a sigh. “I love you too Y/N but I can’t ask you to choose between me and your family.”

Her heart skipped a beat but not in the way Hal had made it done in the past. This pain was sharp in her chest and she would have fallen down if Hal hadn’t been holding her. Those were the last words she expected.

“But you’re not asking Hal, this is my choice.”

“I know darlin’ but trust me on this, if we ran away we’d be happy but in the back of your mind I know how you’d feel, wonderin’ if your parents were okay because I know deep down you love ‘em and it would break my heart to see you tryin’ to cover that up. I can’t put that on you.”

“Hal, please…” she cried. “Don’t say this.”

This is the last thing Hal wants, Y/N is everything he’s ever wanted in life but things were always too good to be true for him. He was doing this for her even though it hurts, because Y/N deserves the best.

“I love you Y/N, more than anything in this world. I know I can’t ever repay you for gettin’ me out, and I know your parents think I’ll never be good enough for ya but–”

“You’re wrong son.”

A familiar voice has their heads turning around to find Y/N’s father standing there.

“Dad? What are you doing here?” Y/N was confused, unaware of the way she took a protective step in front of Hal.

“I came to bail out Mr. Carter but it seems you’ve already done that. I wanted to tell him that Mr. Seymour has been contacted and he will be revoking his initial claim.”

“Sir, I appreciate that but I can’t ask anything of you,” Hal began.

“You didn’t have to. I owe you an apology for my wife’s behavior. She was wrong and after I heard the truth about what happened with William I owe you a thanks as well for protecting my daughter.”

The corner of Hal’s mouth turned upwards as he replied, “You don’t have to thank me for that sir, I would take a bullet for Y/N if it meant she’d be safe.”

“I can see that. You’re a good man Mr. Carter, a hard working man that reminds me of the person I was a long time ago.” Her father shares a look with Y/N, nodding his head ever so slightly. “And I see the way you love my daughter, that makes you good enough in my eyes.”

Her father extends his hand towards Hal who is hesitant at first to shake it, waiting for the other shoe to drop but the sincerity in the eyes of the man before him sets his mind at ease. The two men shake and soon enough Y/N is back in Hal’s arms.

The weight is lifted from their shoulders knowing they have her father’s support, not only in Hal’s defense but in their relationship. Hiding is in the past and Hal couldn’t be happier. The truth is no matter what he told Y/N before Hal knew he wouldn’t have been strong enough to let her go.

As Hal held Y/N in his arms he vowed to never again feel ashamed about material things he didn’t have because Hal was rich where it counted, in his heart.

#togwc #hal carter x reader #hal carter fanfiction #hal carter fic #hal carter one shot

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theladyofdeath · 4 years

Text

Swipe Right {Rowaelin Fluff Modern AU}

Part TWO to Swipe Left {Rowaelin Fluff}

Written alongside the beautiful and talented @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty

Aelin looked in the mirror one final time. She had to look absolutely perfect, of course, even though she was just visiting Rowan at work. It had been a little over a year since she had met the love of her life in the airport, and life was pretty perfect.

She had no complaints.

And from what she could tell, the perfection would only continue to grow.

After brushing through her long, golden hair, Aelin slipped on a pair of brown sandals to go with her turquoise t-shirt dress and called it good.

It had been an eventful morning, to say the least, starting with a quick workout and brunch with Lysandra. After that, she’d showered and gotten ready, checking her email for an offer letter from one of the many companies she’d applied to. The paid internship she’d taken had ended a couple weeks back and while Rowan had been more than generous, not asking her to pay rent when she’d moved in, she needed to start pulling her weight.

Rowan said she could pay him in other ways and she snorted and shoved him.

Aelin liked to contribute. She liked to help out.

Nonetheless, she was hurrying down the steps, as quickly as she could, and to her car. Once inside, she was starting the engine and pulling out of the parking space before the radio could even catch up and begin playing music.

She was giddy, could hardly control herself.

She couldn’t wait to show Rowan.

In her defense, though, she was also bringing him lunch just before his lunch period, so it wasn’t all about her surprise. It was about the kind, loving gesture that could only be shown through bringing your significant other food.

She had to make one stop before she stopped at the school, though, and that was the most important of the day.

Rowan turned around and crossed his arms as he looked at his class. “Can anybody tell me who Abigail Williams is?”

He was met with silence.

“You learned about her last year, with Ms. Lochan.”

Not even a blink of recognition.

He sighed and rubbed between his brows with his thumb and forefinger. “First person who can tell me anything about her gets to leave for lunch ten minutes early.”

A male voice spoke up. “She was accused of being a witch, right?”

“Good, Quinton, she was.” He pointed at the student, who was a basketball player. He’d never put any effort into his studies until recently, when he realized colleges care about your grades, too, not just how many three pointers you can hit. “Where?”

Quinton hesitated.

“Starts with a S,” Rowan slowly.

“Salem,” Quinton said, without any hesitation.

Rowan leaned back against the whiteboard, arms crossed. “Very goo-.”

His words dropped off as he noticed a flutter of movement in the doorway out of the corner of his eye. His class had noticed, too, because he instantly lost their attention as Aelin gave him an amused look.

Rowan couldn’t be mad. His eyes softened as he said, “You all remember my-.”

She was met with a series of loud hellos and hollers, which only made her grin widen - and her ego grow to an uncontrollable level, no doubt.

She held up a bag. “I brought lunch. I didn’t mean to be early. I’ll just…” She pointed to Rowan’s desk in the back corner of the room, indicating her destination.

He chuckled and nodded. He turned his attention back to his class, trying to reclaim their attention. “Alright, next week, we’re going to start on the Salem Witch Trials.” There was a flutter of excitement, which was atypical for sixteen- and seventeen-year-olds in school. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, because yes, it’s extremely interesting, but there’s also a lot of dates or boring stuff.” There was a collective groan, knowing Rowan would give one of his date only quizzes for extra credit. “But...we’re also going to be watching a movie next week. Which leads me to our homework…” Cue the groans again.

“Witches are a commonly adapted piece of folklore in modern media. Monday, I want you to bring in an example of your favorite adaptation of witches from movies, tv shows, music videos, whatever it may be. Wednesday, I want an example of other times there were witch hunts in history, aside from Salem. Not too hard, but we’re going to be taking a lot of notes. Be ready.” He glanced at his watch and saw it was ten til. He nodded his head at Quinton. “Q, you ready for lunch?”

He nodded yes and started packing up his backpack.

Rowan shrugged and said, “I’m feeling generous today. Pick a buddy to go with you.”

Quinton smirked and turned around, pointing to Aelin. “You hungry, Miss G?”

The class erupted into good natured heckling.

Aelin laughed, quietly. “I’m afraid I’ve already eaten.”

“Too bad,” Quinton murmured, earning another round of laughter. “Evangeline, then.”

Evangeline rolled her eyes but began packing up, anyway.

Rowan gestured for them both to go then told the others to get started on their homework, which meant they’d be talking quietly among themselves or on their phones, until the bell rang.

Rowan made his round around the room and ended by his desk, sitting on the edge. His smile had faded, and he wore a concerned frown. “Why’d you come in such a hurry? Don’t get me wrong, I love that you’re here, but...I mean, is everything okay? Did something happen?”

He hated that he had to miss the appointment, but he was saving his vacation days for the months when Aelin would need him home.

“No, nothing, just…” She shrugged her shoulders trying to appear cool and casual, but inside she was about to explode. “Wanted to see you.”

She couldn’t tell if he believed her, he smiled softly, but the wariness was still in his eyes. “Well?” He asked.

She laughed, quietly. “You don’t think I should maybe wait until you don’t have a class of eavesdropping teenagers around?”

She gave a pointed glance behind him and he caught two of his students quickly turning around.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. He glanced over at the clock, they still had a few minutes. “What did you bring me for lunch?”

Aelin chuckled before she said, “Ham and cheese sandwich, a bag of chips, and cut up apples with some caramel to dip them in.”

Rowan’s smile was genuine when he said, “You spoil me.”

He reached for the bag, but she snatched it back. “It’s not fair of you to eat in front of your students,” she replied, smirking.

He rolled his eyes, but got back up, making another quick circle around the room.

“Mr. Whitethorn?” A girl’s hand raised. “We have a question about what we can use for our media. Movies are okay, right?”

He figured the question would be coming and he was glad someone asked it, rather than half the class having to scramble like the grade before them did last year. “Movies are permitted, but PG-13 or lower. Can’t be rated R.” There was a chorus of groans. “I don’t make the rules, sorry, but if I did, you still wouldn’t be allowed to.”

The bell rang and as everyone rushed for the door, he called, “Alright, don't forget your homework and have a great weekend!”

They were out the door before he’d finished his sentence. Aelin was chuckling from where she sat on his desk.

In a flash, Rowan was at the door, locking it, pulling the privacy blind and then at his desk. He pressed his lips to Aelin’s and said, “Okay, well?”

She laughed and handed him the brown sack that his lunch was in. Rowan looked at the bag and said, “I appreciate you bringing me lunch, baby, but that’s not what I’m asking.”

The urge to roll her eyes was almost too strong to resist, but she said, “Open the bag, you frantic buzzard.”

With narrowed eyes in her direction, he did as he was asked, and froze. His eyes widened as his hand reached in and pulled out the little black and white ultrasound pictures.

He said absolutely nothing as he shuffled through them, his green eyes growing bright and misty.

Aelin watched him with complete adoration.

“Shit,” he breathed, shaking his head as he met Aelin’s loving gaze. “This is our kid.”

She nodded, a smile breaking on her lips. She didn’t try to stop the tears that slid down her cheek.

Aelin and Rowan had gotten married on the beach, almost six months to the day after they’d met. Neither of them had any immediate family and they both knew the wanted no one but the other for the rest of their days.

They’d suspected Aelin was pregnant a few weeks earlier. Her cycle hadn’t come and Rowan was actually the one who noticed it was late.

Now, their baby was growing and would be there in a matter of months. These were the first ultrasound pictures where the baby actually looked like a baby, not just a blob. They could see the head, the hands, the feet, everything.

“Yeah,” she smiled, and he took her face into his hands and kissed her, softly. “It’s our baby.”

“I’m so sad I missed it,” he whispered. “Instead, I was here talking about shit that none of these kids will remember tomorrow.”

“There will be others,” she promised. “Much more important appointments that you’ll be able to come to.”

His eyes lit up. “When do we find out if it’s a boy or girl?”

She rolled her eyes, kissing him once more. It had been a constant debate for them both the past month. Rowan was adamant it was a girl, but Aelin said she could feel that it was a boy. “She wants to schedule that for eighteen weeks, but says we may not be able to tell until twenty.”

Rowan waited and he asked, “And how pregnant are you right now?”

“Ro!” She laughed but shoved him. “This morning was eleven weeks.” She placed her hand over her stomach, the bump just barely starting to show.

He laid his hand over hers. “Six weeks until I get to see my beautiful baby girl.”

“Or your perfect, handsome son,” she laughed.

Rowan just said, “We’ll see.”

Aelin rolled her eyes and took a bite of his sandwich, which earned her a scowl from him. When she claimed it was because she was eating for two, Rowan couldn’t argue with that.

He sat in his desk chair, pulling her onto his lap as he started to eat. He only had thirty minutes before his next class came in, and he hated to say he was dreading it. As much as he loved his job, he was ready to be at home with his wife, rubbing her belly on the couch in his sweatpants.

Life was never as good to him as it was now before he met Aelin. Things weren’t bad, not at all, but he was never this happy.

Before, he used to love teaching. It was his passion and he was always one of the first into the school in the mornings and one of the very last to leave in the evening. He poured over his lesson plans at home, spent all of his spare time grading papers or homework. But now, he wanted that spare time to go to Aelin. Rather than get up at five-fifteen, and make it to school by six-thirty, he stayed in bed with Aelin as long as he could, sometimes not making it until right before the bell. Those were usually the mornings that Aelin awoke with his first alarm and scooted back into his warm embrace. And then continued to scoot until he had to get up.

She had completely consumed him, but he definitely wasn’t complaining about it.

And soon, there would be another little person to captivate him, too.

It was a Saturday, and the second Rowan opened his eyes, he realized Aelin was gone. He sat up, slowly, and blinked a few times to clear his surroundings.

She was nowhere.

“Ace?” He called.

“Kitchen!” She called back.

He picked up his phone to catch the time. 9:06. Just when he was about to ask why she was already out of bed on a lazy Saturday morning, the thought hit him.

Their gender reveal party was at noon.

He was up and rushing around the corner, grabbing it for traction as he rushed into the kitchen. His wife had an eyebrow raised, her hair piled into a messy bun on her head. She wore an old shirt from his college baseball days and a pair of his sweat pants she’d claimed as her own once her belly began to get too big for her own comfy clothes to fit. She held a cup of tea in her hands, carefully blowing on it. “Good morning,” she said with a smirk.

He stood upright and leaned on the wall. “Morning, babies.”

Aelin laughed as she rubbed a loving hand over her belly. He’d begun to refer to them as one, and she thought was the cutest thing she’d ever experienced.

“Is that breakfast?” He asked, with a yawn, throwing open the fridge for the entire carton of orange juice.

“No,” she said, with a pointed finger in his direction. “This is for the party, and if you touch any of it, I will kick you in the balls.”

Rowan froze as he turned, the carton halfway to his mouth. He was just now realizing how much there was on the counter. Multiple crockpots, bags and bags of junk, and something in the oven, seeing as how it was turned on and cooking.

“Exactly how many people are coming?” He asked, surprised.

Aelin shrugged. “Enough.”

At least they had just bought a new house and could fit a herd of people. Either way, Rowan was not a fan of large groups of people. His socially awkward nature prevented it.

Standing up in front of a class of kids? Sure. Easy.

Entertaining guests? Nope. Not his thing.

“I see that look on your face, calm down,” she said, chuckling as she meandered toward him and grabbed him by the hips. “I’ll entertain, you just make sure all the bowls I set out are constantly filled to the brim.”

Rowan grinned, leaning down to press a soft kiss against her mouth. “Alright, I can do that.”

She turned back to the counter, picking her tea back up. Rowan began pulling things out to make himself a protein shake. After blending it up, he hopped up on the counter and looked at Aelin. “What can I do to help?”

“I need you to go pick up the cake,” Aelin said, washing her mug and placing it back in the cabinet.

Rowan blinked at her. “Like the cake? Like the cake our baby is in?”

She rolled her eyes. “First of all, you’re an idiot, you know that the baby isn’t in the cake. And secondly, we’re not doing a cake reveal, remember? But we are having a cake for the party.”

Rowan frowned. “Since when are we not doing a cake reveal?”

Aelin came up between his legs and looked up at him. “Since everyone else in the world did one.”

“Then why do we need a cake?” Rowan asked.

Aelin blinked. “Are you serious?”

Rowan just cleared his throat. “Okay, I’ll get the cake. What else?”

“Hang the decorations I got because I’m short.”

Rowan chuckled as he hopped off the counter. “Fair enough.”

A loud knock came to the front door but before anyone could walk toward it, it flew open and Lysandra came flying in, plastic bags full of decor in each hand.

“Hello, mommy and daddy-to-be!” She sang, setting the bags on the counter and immediately getting to work.

“Or I guess Lysandra is going to take care of that,” Aelin chuckled.

Rowan pressed a kiss to her forehead and went to go get ready for the day while Aelin sat and talked to Lysandra. Just like Rowan, her best friend hadn’t allowed her to lift a finger throughout her pregnancy. He was just entering the bathroom when he heard Aedion enter the house and say, “Good morning, Aelin. You’re looking plump this morning.”

Thirty minutes later, Aedion was riding to the bakery with a freshly showered and shaved Rowan, having been kicked out of the house by Lysandra.

“How was I supposed to know she was going to cry?” He asked, shrugging his shoulders.

“She’s five months pregnant, man,” Rowan laughed. “Her emotions are all over the place, pretty much assume everything might make her cry right now.”

“Huh,” Aedion said, staring out the window. “The pregnant mind is one I don’t wish to understand.”

“Me either,” Rowan muttered. “Just wait until you knock up Lysandra.”

Aedion groaned. “Yeah, that can wait.”

Rowan laughed as he drove into the parking lot of the bakery and hopped out. He ran in to pick up the biggest, most elaborate gender reveal cake. It was for a small gathering, of course, but for a handful of people, the five tier cake was a bit much.

Which was why Rowan walked ridiculously slowly, cautiously, to the back of the car. He opened the trunk and slowly slid it in.

Aedion was just staring. “No wonder Aelin didn’t want to come pick it up. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for ruining that.”

“Thanks, man,” Rowan mumbled, climbing back in the front seat.

Aedion picked up the receipt and looked at it. “Gods, that’s way too many zeros at the end for a cake.”

Rowan sighed and said, “If it makes her happy, I do whatever she asks.” Aedion smirked. He asked, “What?”

The smirk softened. “Nothing, just… I always hoped Aelin could find someone who loved her the way I love Lysandra. I just didn’t think it would be on Tinder.”

Rowan groaned. The fact that they’d met on a glorified fuck-buddy app brought Aedion a lot more joy than it should have.

“Technically,” Rowan began, “We met in the airport.”

“Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that,” Aedion said, as Rowan slowly pulled onto the road. The drive back to the house was ten minutes longer than it should have been, due to the ridiculously slow speed Rowan was driving at to keep the cake safe.

When they arrived, it was just after eleven and Lysandra was already wrapping up her intense decorating agenda. The house was draped in pink and blue streamers, banners, and little frilly things that Rowan thought were ridiculous and pointless, but he kept that thought to himself.

“Where’s Aelin?” He asked, once he and Aedion set the cake, successfully, on the island.

“Bedroom, dressing,” Lysandra said, still scowling at an exasperated Aedion.

“I’ll be back,” Rowan sighed.

He walked down the hall to their bedroom, knocking softly on the door. “Ace?” There was a quiet answer and slipped in.

She was in her closet, and when he entered the bathroom, she said, “Baby, can you help me put on my shoes? I can’t reach my feet anymore.”

He found her sitting on a small chair, her foot halfway in a sandal.

He laughed and knelt down, latching the shoe around her - honestly, very swollen - ankle and then did the same with the other. He kissed her knee then her pronounced bump, and looked up her face. “Aelin, I love you…but that cake is fucking excessive.”

She smiled. “Yes, it is.”

He rolled his eyes and stood, helping her to her feet as he went.

She was wearing a white dress, that hugged her body, highlighting the pronounced bump that grew more and more every day, and a loose, comfy cardigan. Her hair was piled on the top of her head.

He softly kissed her. “You look so beautiful.”

She smiled and wrapped her arms around him. It was becoming difficult. She sighed and said, “Are you sure I’m not looking plump?”

“Baby, he was just joking,” he chuckled, rubbing her back.

She sniffled.

“Aelin, baby, don’t cry,” he cooed.

“I don’t know why I’m crying,” she said, throwing her hands in the air, “and I don’t know why it makes me so mad that Aedion called me plump, which I am, and why I hate that my house is covered in pink and blue. I mean, pink and blue? That’s so normal, Ro, and I hate normal. Why didn’t we do purple and red? Or, shit, green and gold? I love green and gold. Pink and blue sucks, Ro.”

Rowan just stared at her as she babbled on before taking a long, deep breath. “How about this? Next week, when we start decorating the nursery, we’ll do it in green and gold. Okay? After today, you never have to look at blue or pink again.”

She wiped angrily at her nose. “Fine.”

“Fine,” he repeated, trying his hardest not to laugh. “I love you.”

She leaned up on her toes and he met halfway, pressing his lips to hers. “I love you, too.” She stepped out into the bathroom and made sure that her makeup was still intact and then said, “Let’s go see my fucking excessive cake.”

One by one, their friends showed up. Lysandra made everyone give their official guess as they came in and after everyone had arrived, it seemed the majority agreed that Aelin was correct and there would be a little heartbreaker running around soon.

Even with the pink and blue decorations, Aelin had to admit that everything was beautiful. Lysandra had done an amazing job, which she told her time and time again.

When the time came, everyone filed out into the backyard, Lysandra carrying a bat and a white box. She handed Rowan the bat and Aelin took the box, explaining that the ball inside would explode into a colorful cloud when hit. All she had to do was get it to Rowan. All he had to do was hit it.

“No pressure,” he mumbled, setting the bat down. He rolled up his sleeves, to which his friends whistled and howled, and got a few practice swings in. When he felt he could confidently hit a moving target, he got into position and nodded to Aelin.

Her grin was glorious as she threw the ball.

It was a terrible throw, but Rowan swung at it, nonetheless, and pink dust filled the air.

Everyone erupted into cheers as Aelin yelled WHAT THE FUCK, but when the cloud cleared, and Rowan caught her gaze, she was smiling at him with tears in her eyes.

Rowan whistled, looking around at their living room, which was full of opened gifts. Their baby shower had been that morning - Rowan had spent it playing basketball in the park with Lorcan - and they had been spoiled.

Earlier that week, Rowan had painted the nursery gold, and it seemed that everyone who went to the shower got the hint that gold and green was the theme.

Aelin sat in the chair, her feet up on the table in front of her. She nodded. Her voice wavered as she said, “I love our people.”

He smiled softly and pressed a kiss to her forehead. He knew this wasn’t a crazy pregnancy crying. No, this was the love she felt for their friends, how blessed and overwhelmed by their own love and generosity she was.

He took her hands and helped her to her feet. “Let’s go get comfy and put together our sweet girl’s nursery.”

She groaned as she moved towards their bedroom. “I’m eight months pregnant. I don’t even remember what comfortable is anymore.”

“Just take off your pants,” he suggested, as they entered their room. “No pants equals comfort.”

She snorted. “You just like me pants-less.”

He shrugged. “It’s a perk.”

As much as she thought he was joking, she did just that, putting on a gigantic t-shirt and some fuzzy socks. In his sweatpants, Rowan followed her down to the end of the hall, to where the nursery was.

She sat in the plush rocking chair they’d bought, knowing they’d be spending quite a bit of time in nursery. Aelin quietly watched Rowan as he worked, humming a lullaby and slowly rocking in the chair. One by one, Rowan built, put together or set up everything they received from the day.

He dragged a big box towards him, puzzled. “What is this thing?”

Aelin smiled. “A cooler with a built into bluetooth speaker and charging station.”

He blinked. “And why does the baby need that?”

“The baby doesn’t, but you do.” She laughed at his shocked expression. “It’s from Aedion and Lysandra. He said it was your bro shower gift.”

Rowan opened the box and peeked inside. “Have I mentioned how much I love your cousin?”

She snorted. “He’s aware of your bromance, yes.”

Rowan grinned as he put the box in the hallway and looked around. “Anything left that has to be put together?”

Aelin shook her head, slowly. “Just stuff that has to be put away.

Rowan opened up a little gift bag and pulled out a little red, polka dotted sundress. “Are you fucking kidding me? This is tiny.”

Aelin’s grin widened. “That’s from Elide. Along with a hundred other little outfits.”

But Rowan was staring at the newborn sundress. “Aelin, this is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

She laughed. “Come with me, I’m about to blow your mind.” He raised an eyebrow and she rolled her eyes. “Not like that.”

With Rowan’s assistance getting out of the chair, she led him back down to their room. “I can’t bend over so… There’s a storage box under the bed. Put it up here.” She patted the mattress.

He did as he was told, grabbing a hold of a long, thin plastic tub, it’s lid was snapped securely in place, but it was full to bursting.

Rowan murmured, “She has more clothes than me. How does she already have more clothes than me?”

Aelin chuckled but skimmed through the small outfits, pulling a few of her favorites out. “Because Lysandra is her auntie.”

Rowan took the small blue onesie from Aelin. He held it in his hands, gazing down at it.

Aelin noticed his silence then and her smile faltered. “Baby?”

Aelin was floored when he looked up and there were tears shimmering on his face.

She hesitated, and when she spoke it was a whisper, “Gods, Are you crying?”

“No,” he said, but a tear had, in fact, fallen down his cheek. “It’s just so...small.”

She watched him, smiling softly, as he took in the little outfit.

“The baby is going to be tiny,” he breathed. “What if I break her?”

He chuckled, brushing it off, but she could see the genuine fear in his eyes.

“You won’t, Ro, you couldn’t.” She reached up and brushed the tear from his cheek, cupping his face in her hands. “She isn’t even here yet and you’re so in love with her. You wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt her.”

He nodded, but Aelin could see the trepidation still on his face. The whole pregnancy, he’d been her rock, the one constant motivator. She knew he was so ready for this baby, that she was already so loved, but it was normal to be scared.

“I love you,” she breathed, rising up on her tiptoes to kiss him. Her belly got in the way and she groaned as she was just barely too short of his lips.

He laughed and leaned down, letting her stand back on her feet and wrapping his arms around her. “I love you, too.”

They went back to the nursery, Rowan carrying the massive tub so Aelin could begin folding them and putting them in her dresser. As he was unwrapping diapers and putting them in their designated drawer, Rowan said, “So I had an idea for a name.’

Aelin paused and turned. “Okay?’

She was having this baby in less thirty days and they had yet to find a name they agreed on. The closest they’d come was with Nora, which Aelin had decided after a day of overthinking, was that Nora was an old person's name. Rowan had said that it was classy and timeless. Nonetheless, it went into the no pile, and they continued looking.

He leaned his back on the gold wall, crossing his arms over his chest, almost like he was bracing himself for her response. “Sloan.”

Aelin tilted her head to the left slightly. “Sloan?”

He nodded. “Sloan.”

“Hmm.” She closed her eyes and repeated the name a few more times, slowly, then with their last name, just to see. At last, she opened her eyes back up to meet her husband’s gaze and said, “I like Sloan.”

Rowan hesitated. “Wait, seriously?”

She laughed, leaning back on her hands from where she sat on the floor. “Yeah, seriously. I love it.”

Rowan still was in shock that she was in favor of a name suggested by him. He was still frozen in his place along the golden wall. “You’re worrying me. Are you feeling okay? I’m calling your doctor.”

“Shut up, you prick,” she said, smiling. They’d finally decided on a name, a name they both loved, a name they both agreed upon.

He chuckled and laid down in front of where she sat, his face inches from her round stomach. “Did you hear that, Sloan? Mama just told daddy to shut up. You should kick her in the ribs for that.” Their daughter did no such thing and Aelin quietly laughed, running a hand through Rowan’s newly cropped silver hair, as he scowled at her. He pressed a kiss just above her belly button. “What about this? Can you tell her how much I love her?” Aelin took a sharp breath in through her teeth as she felt a sharp pain in her side. Rowan’s deep rumble of a laugh traveled across her skin. “That’s my girl.” He pressed another kiss to her stomach, and gazed up at Aelin through his lashes, smirking. “Won’t take orders from a man. Just like her mama.”

Aelin sighed and shook her head. “Already turning her against me.”

“She’s a daddy’s girl,” Rowan muttered, yawning as he closed his eyes. It had been a long day, and he wasn’t even the one growing a human being inside of him. When he looked up at his wife, he could see her exhaustion. “I think we’ve done enough today, mama. Let’s go to bed.”

“Mama,” she repeated, quietly, eyes shining.

Rowan nodded, slowly, and took her hand. “One more month.”

Aelin brought Rowan’s hand to her lips as she smiled. “Yeah, one more month.”

___

“Ro.”

Rowan was having a beautiful dream, sleeping soundly, when his wife suddenly began shaking his shoulder with the wrath of a cranky, nearly full-term pregnant woman.

He groaned, opening his eyes, just barely, to look up at the alarm clock that sat on his side table. It was just after two.

“Go to bed, babe,” he mumbled.

“No, Ro,” she said, jabbing him in the back with her knee.

“Ow, Damn,” he hissed, pushing himself up on his elbows with a sigh. “What? Are you okay?”

“No,” she breathed.

His body tensed as he reached over to turn on the lamp, and when he did, he saw Aelin sitting up, eyes wide, a dark circle spotted on their light gray bed sheet.

Rowan blinked. “What? You woke me up cause you pissed your-“

“My water broke, you asshole,” Aelin snapped.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered, eyes wide. He jumped out of bed, grabbing for the jeans he’d discarded on top of the hamper the night before. “Oh, shit!”

Aelin was breathing heavily, and clutching at her stomach. “She’s coming,” she whispered, “she’s coming, she’s coming, she’s coming.”

Rowan was there immediately, sitting on the bed in front of her, taking her hand in his and letting her squeeze as hard as she could. “What do you need me to do, baby?

“Are the bags packed?” She asked, voice tight.

He nodded. “Yes, ours are in the dining room on the way out the door and Sloan’s in the truck, with her carseat, already buckled in and ready for her.”

“You’re such a good daddy,” she breathed, face showing relief as the pain in her abdomen subsided.

Rowan pressed a kiss to her forehead and said, “Come on, let’s get you changed and go meet our precious girl.”

A slight look of panic crossed her face, but it quickly turned to excitement and adoration. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Rowan breathed, and helped her to her feet. She kept on the oversized tee she had and Rowan helped her slip on some cozy pants and her flip flops before they were hurrying out the door.

The car ride was miserable. They got stuck at every red light along the way and the contractions quickly became stronger and closer together.

When they got to the hospital, Rowan parked as close as he could to the entrance. It helped that it was the middle of the night. After helping her to the door and into a wheelchair, Aelin was met with a nurse and then she was being wheeled away. Rowan, and their bags, just behind.

“I feel like we forgot something,” Aelin said, as Rowan tied the back of her hospital gown and helped her into the bed.

“We talked about this,” Rowan began, pulling a chair up close to the side, “Fleetfoot isn’t allowed in the hospital, Ace.”

She chuckled, but the gesture was quickly replaced with a contorted look of pain.

“Breathe,” the nurse whispered, calmly, as she finished hooking Aelin up to a series of machines. One took blood pressure, one kept track of the contractions, one monitored her heartbeat, another monitored the baby’s.

Looking at all of the machines gave Rowan a headache.

“How far apart are your contractions, dear?” The nurse asked, taking notes on her chart.

“About eleven minutes apart, but my water broke,” Aelin said, resting back in the bed, trying to get comfortable while she still could.

She smiled and said, “Not uncommon for a first time mom. We’ll keep an eye on it, but for now, why don’t you try and get some more sleep.”

“Sleep?” Aelin asked, her eyebrows raising. “I can’t sleep right now, I’m having a baby. I want my epidural and to push her out.”

The nurse, a sweet-looking older woman named Alis, laughed softly. “Sorry, hon. You can’t get an epidural until your contractions are about five minutes apart. Just relax and we’ll come check on you in a little bit.”

Alis left and Aelin stared after her. “I can’t sleep,” she mumbled, looking at Rowan. “How does she expect me to sleep? I’m about to shove our daughter out of my vag.”

“Great visual, babe,” he sighed, sitting next to her and taking her hand with his free one. His phone was in his other. “Here it is,” he began reading. “In the early stages of labor, mothers-to-be are encouraged to rest and relax. If labor begins at night, it's best to try and go back to sleep until contractions have increased to require all of your focus.”

“Fabulous,” Aelin mumbled. “Can I have my phone?”

“Sure, baby, where is it?” He asked, reaching for her purse.

She looked at him. “I thought you had it.”

Rowan’s brows furrowed. “Why would I have had your phone?”

Aelin’s eyes narrowed. “Because I asked you to grab it on the way out the door when you went back for your tablet.”

Rowan didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. His eyes said enough: Ohhh shit.

She let her head fall back against the pillows and closed her eyes, settling back and trying to get comfy. “I knew we forgot something.”

“I’ll ask Aedion and Lysandra to get it on the way.” He yawned and leaned back in the chair, pulling the ball cap covering his messy, silver hair lower over his eyes.

It was quiet for a minute and then Rowan said, already dozing off, “If you don’t have your phone, I assume that means you haven’t told anyone she’s on the way?”

Aelin replied, “Nope.”

He re-situated his hat and pulled out his phone. Since things didn’t seem to be progressing too quickly, he sent a quick text to their friends, not wanting to call and wake everyone. Save for one person: Lysandra.

Thirty seconds later, Rowan’s phone was ringing. With a sigh, he answered. “Hell-.”

“You didn’t call me on the way to the hospital?!” Lysandra’s loud voice came through to his ear.

“Sorry, I was a little busy trying to get my wife to the hospital,” Rowan said, yawning. “Nothing’s happened yet, don’t worry, I’ll call when things pick up. Her water broke and now she’s being told to go back to sleep.”

“Which I can’t do and my husband forgot my phone!” Aelin said, loudly, obviously frustrated.

There was a second of silence on the other end before Lysandra said, “Seriously? You didn’t grab her phone?”

“Don’t worry, she’s giving me a look that is equivalent to being stabbed, I’m being punished,” Rowan muttered.

“Let me talk to her.”

Rowan held out his phone without any hesitation. He heard Lysandra rattle off a series of questions and Aelin silently nodded along to each, softly biting the side of her finger. It was a nervous ‘twitch’ she’d picked up in the past few months and couldn’t seem to break it when she was thinking. “Okay, I got it. You know where the spare key is and I’ll send you the rest.” He heard Lysandra saying something else and Aelin’s eyes flicked over to him. “I haven't decided yet. I’ll let you know. Love you.” Lysandra replied and then Aelin ended the call, handing the phone back to Rowan.

He had an eyebrow raised, and though every instinct in his body instinct told him not to, he asked, “Decided what?”

She pouted her lips slightly and was about to reply when another contraction began. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, holy shit.”

He was up, his phone forgotten on the side table, and he took her hand. “Breathe, baby. Just breathe through it.”

“I’m deciding,” she said, through her teeth, “if I’m having Lysandra pick something up from Starbucks for you on the way here, or just me.”

He raised his eyebrows, rubbing soothing circles in her back with his free hand, but he said, “That’s cold, baby.”

“Well you forgot your pregnant wife’s phone on the way to give birth to your daughter,” she said, finally remembering to do the breathing exercises they’d learned.

Rowan sighed and said, “That’s fair.”

Aelin ended up having Lys get Rowan his coffee, too. They were even able to get a couple more hours sleep between the contractions, but when Lysandra blew threw the door at five-thirty, a bleary-eyed Aedion behind her, they were both up and Rowan was eating a sad, cold, hospital cafeteria breakfast.

“Oh, bless your hearts, thank the gods I brought real food.” She held up a bag from Aelin’s favorite bakery.

“Chocolate croissants?” Aelin asked, her eyes going wide.

“And they’re still warm, haven’t even been out of the oven for ten minutes,” Lysandra said, handing her the bag. With the other hand she extended her phone.

Aelin snatched both. Rowan knew better than to ask for a croissant. Lysandra held up a cup of coffee to him, her emerald eyes narrowed. “In your defense, she had left it in under the blankets in the bed.”

Aelin was sniffing the croissant as the door swung open, once again, and Alis came in, cheerily asking, “Good morning!”

“Good morning,” Aelin groaned. “When can we get this thing out of me?”

It had quickly turned from my daughter to this thing as the morning went on.

“I’m going to check where you’re at, and we’ll see,” she smiled.

Alis eyed the coffee and bag of goodies as she approached, but before she could say anything, Aelin said, “Don’t worry, they’re just for smell. I’m waiting to eat them after baby gets here...which will be soon, right?”

Aedion had made himself scarce the moment Alis ordered Aelin to put her feet up, but Lysandra was sitting on the edge of the bed. Rowan was still eating his shitty cafeteria waffle as Alis checked where Aelin was at. Five minutes later, the nurse was tossing her gloves into the trash and washing her hands.

“I believe your baby girl will be here sometime this afternoon,” she smiled, hands on her hips. “I’ll be in to give you the epidural in a few hours. Until then, continue to relax as much as possible. I’ll bring in more ice chips for you to munch on while you sniff your baked goods.”

She left and Aelin groaned as she let her head fall back into the pillows. “After noon,” she said, making sure the words were separated. “As in after twelve pm, which is still seven hours away.”

Lys patted her hand. “It could be sooner. She might decide she’s ready to be here now.”

Aelin turned and looked at her best friend, a look in her eyes that she hadn’t seen since they were in middle school and beating the shit out of each other in the girl’s locker room. They’d been inseparable ever since. “That would be horrible, too. Because then I wouldn’t get my epidural and I’d be in even more pain.”

Aedion said from the couch, mouth full, “She’ll get here in the perfect amount of time that you get your drugs and you aren’t in labor for two days.”

Aelin looked at him. “What are you eating.”

Aedion crumpled up the wax paper bag it had been in, trying to obscure the chocolate within. “Nothing.”

Aelin’s voice was like ice. “If I wasn’t due for a contraction any minute now, I’d punch you right in the dick.”

The room got silent and then Rowan’s phone rang. He glanced at it. “It’s Lorcan, babe, I need to get it.”

“Go,” she said, smiling wickedly. “Aedion can help me.” She held out her hand, waiting for his to squeeze.

Rowan patted his back as he walked by. “Hope that croissant was worth it.”

He answered as he stepped out into the hall. “Hey, man.”

Lorcan asked, “Your wife push out your demon spawn yet?”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “No, she’s still a few hours away from her epidural and a while from pushing.”

Lorcan’s response was simple. “Gross. Hey, is your substitute giving your finals?”

He sighed, “I would assume, Lor, since they start on Wednesday, and my wife is giving birth to our daughter right now.”

“Fair enough,” Lorcan said. “Elide will be coming by at some point to see Aelin, and I’ll come by after classes end.”

“That’s probably about when she’ll be here, so make sure you call Lysandra first. I might be a little busy,” Rowan laughed.

Lorcan snorted, “Why? It’s not like you’ll be doing any of the hard work. You did your part nine months ago, when you nutted inside of-.”

Probably louder than he should have, in a hospital wing just after sunrise, Rowan said, “Goodbye, Lorcan,” and hung up the phone.

Considering how his best friend usually spoke, Rowan had to admit that the conversation had actually been pretty tame. I’m fact, he was pretty sure that was Lorcan being sweet and caring. Which is why, once he opened the door to Aelin’s room, Rowan said, “Lorcan said good luck.”

Aelin, next to Aedion who was rubbing his now-sore hand, blinked. “Are you sure? That’s uncharacteristic of him.”

“He also says that Elide will come by soon.”

“That sounds more accurate,” Aelin said, then yawned. “Can you at least go get me some magazines or something? I’m bored as hell and hurting like shit.”

His stomach grumbled and he said, “I’m absolutely starving, so what if I go grab some food that doesn’t look like it could come to life and eat me instead, and I’ll pick up that new book you’ve been wanting?”

“You mean you’re going to leave?” Her eyes went wide, filling with tears.

He was instantly by her side, her face in his hands. “I won’t, I don’t have to. I can eat the radioactive cafeteria food and run down to the gift shop for the magazines. I was just going to run to the Walmart that has a McDonalds in it down the road. Two birds, one stone.”

Her eyes were still panicked and Lysandra, hearing Rowan’s stomach growl ferociously again, said, “Ro, why don’t you run down to grab some magazines, and Aedion will go get you food and the book for Aelin?”

It was less of a question and more of a “Get your asses in gear, this is what we’re doing” statement, and with Aelin’s sniffling nod of confirmation. The men were off, Rowan coming back with a few magazines and the sweetest stuffed animal that Aelin had ever seen.

“What is that?” she laughed, eating another bite of ice chips.

Rowan sheepishly held the white ball of fluff in his hands. “I realized that when we were packing her bag, we didn’t bring her anything but clothes and diapers and the essential stuff. And I know she has tons at home, but... I wanted to give her her first stuffed animal, as her daddy, so…”

Aelin’s eyes were rimmed with tears as she said, “Can I see?”

His cheeks burned. “I didn’t have many great options, they’re doing a remodel down there, so… The White-Tailed Hawk was the highlighted animal of the month.” He held the soft bird out to her.

Aelin huffed a laugh as she took the bird into her hands and ran her fingers over the soft fur. “It’s perfect.”

She clung to that stuffed animal for the next few hours as Rowan ate his McDonalds. The book, however, had to wait, because by the time Aedion got back with everything, the contractions were brutal.

At least Rowan had finished his egg McMuffin before they pulled out the longest needle he had ever seen, making him lightheaded.

He nearly fainted when they stuck that needle into Aelin’s back.

It wasn’t much longer that she grew numb from the waist down, and not too much longer after that she felt the slightest bit of pressure, letting Alis know that the baby was wanting to make her grand appearance into the world.

Lysandra, much to her disappointment, was told she had to leave while Rowan remained, holding her hand as she began to push.

“You’re doing so good,” Rowan whispered, five minutes in. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Aelin closed her eyes and pressed her sweaty forehead against his, just as she started to push again.

They had both heard horror stories of women who had to push for hours and hours and hours. Thankfully, Aelin was not one of them, because half an hour after the first push, a soft cry filled the silent room.

“She’s here, baby, she’s here.” There were tears streaming down Rowan Whitethorn’s face as the doctors placed the small, wailing infant on Aelin’s chest. The cries quieted almost immediately and he kissed her head. “I love you so much. You did so amazing, Ace.”

Aelin was crying, looking down into the perfect face of her daughter. “Hello, beautiful girl. We’ve been waiting for you.”

Rowan laughed quietly, though even Aelin admitted that it sounded closer to a sob.

————

About an hour later, a quiet knock came from the door. Rowan opened the door to find Lysandra and Aedion waiting.

All it took was one smile from Rowan and Lysandra began to cry, throwing her arms around him. “Congratulations.”

He hugged her back, trying his best not to tear up again himself. “Thank you. Come meet her.”

After a quick hug from Aedion, Rowan led them into the room, where Aelin, fresh faced and hair in a messy bun on the top of her head, sat in the bed, gazing adoringly at the small bundle in her arms.

“Do you want to meet Auntie Lys and Uncle Aedion?” She cooed down at her daughter.

Sloan was sleeping, but it didn’t stop Lysandra from pressing her lips against the newborn's head, where a striped knit hat was pulled over her tufts of golden hair.

“Meet Sloan Elia Whitethorn,” Aelin said, quietly, brushing her finger over Sloan's soft cheek.

“She’s beautiful,” Lysandra whispered, and the moment Aelin asked if she wanted to hold her, Lysandra was crying again.

Rowan watched the entire scene play out from just inside of the door, leaning up against the wall. His wife, holding his baby girl. His friends, family, admiring their little creation. There was nothing like it. He had never imagined life could be so perfect, so joyful. He had never imagined he could love someone, two someones, so much.

And to think, he owed it all to a fucking dating app and an absurdly long layover at the airport.

He was so damn happy he swiped right.

#part 2 #rowaelin #tog #throne of glass #rowan #aelin #fanfic #fanfition #oneshot #sjm #collab

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bentforkent · 4 years

Text

to the moon and to saturn - chapter one

spencer reid x fem!reader

navigation and summary

word count: 2753

no content warnings

next chapter

seven

“you’re boring.”

“no, i’m not, y/n!”

“you never want to play pirates with me!”

spencer’s hair is long and his glasses are sliding down his nose. the light seeping into y/n’s room from her large bay window is muted by the white sheet covering it. the sheet rests precariously over a chair, forming a blanket fort carefully engineered by spencer, and haphazardly constructed by y/n. there are throw pillows tossed throughout the fort, and spencer makes an attempt to straighten them whenever he gets the chance. whenever he comes to y/n’s house, ringing her doorbell with a backpack full of books, they work together to add on to their secret hideaway. the white sheet is the newest addition, especially designed to let more natural light into the blanket burg. this follows a poor mishap where a lamp y/n had left on too long burnt a hole through her carpet.

previously, the pair had constructed a stuffed animal room, a reading corner, a designated snack area. y/n’s starting to run out of linens. the fort has been standing for weeks now, y/n’s parents very rarely involved enough to enter her room, giving her and spencer free reign to create their own imaginary worlds to play in undisturbed.

except spencer, with all his practicality, isn’t particularly adept at the “playing in imaginary worlds” part. y/n can’t comprehend that. it’s simple for her to slip into a different universe, enjoyable, even. she’s begged spencer to play mermaids, bank robbers, fbi agents, firefighters, princesses---you name it. spencer indulges her for the most part, but y/n can always tell that he’s not that into it. he’s much fonder of tucking into some obscure poetry book, reading aloud when y/n requests. she never comprehends much of what he’s saying, but he reads so confidently that it fills her with glee anyways.

for seven year olds, it’s clear to outsiders that they both don’t quite act their age. y/n, with her big doe eyes, dreams too much, her escapism both her greatest asset and most fatal flaw. spencer’s a stickler to the realistic, his pragmatic nature an unconscious choice that gives him a beautiful worldview but will make him grow up too fast. for now, though, the children don’t worry about that. they worry solely about balancing each other out and the purity that comes with being in youth.

y/n is splayed on her back on the floor of the fort, where her scratchy carpet is covered with a fluffy pink blanket. her hair fans out around her head in a halo. spencer’s physics book is closed and set gently in the corner, and he’s attempting to braid a small chunk of y/n’s hair. “pirates is my least favorite game,” he says.

“what about knights?” y/n angles herself to look back at him. she’s far too young to execute a soul searching gaze, but the way her eyes strain to scan his face comes close. she takes note of his facial expression giving away his inner thoughts. the way his lip quirks up indicates that he definitely does not want to play knights with the girl in front of him, but the softness in his eyes tells y/n that she’s won.

without another word, they crawl out from their blanket fort and jump onto the bed. “my armor is blue,” y/n says, unsheathing an imaginary sword and holding it up in joust. “knight armor was typically made of iron or steel, and there was no way to make it blue in the late 15th century,” spencer piped up, mirroring her actions. he likes playing at y/n’s house. his parents would never let him jump on the bed. y/n’s parents let the two of them do a lot of things, spencer thinks, and he’s never heard them fight like his parents do either.

“cool, spencer!” y/n says enthusiastically. she’s always enthusiastic when he tells her a fact, even though she rarely really understands him. she knows people are terrible to spencer because of his intellect, and had made a pact with herself when they first became friends that she would never ever ever be mean to spencer for being smart. “we can pretend, though. yours can be blue too!”

“okay,” he replies, and y/n begins to coach him through the game, attempting to loosen him up a bit. they play, bouncing around on the bed and wielding fake medieval weapons until the sun begins to go down and spencer remarks that he needs to go home before dark or his mom will be upset.

y/n reluctantly lets him leave, knowing that he has a lot less fun at his house, but finding comfort in the fact that he’ll come back the next day.

spencer and y/n spend every day together, without fail. they’re young, and they don’t know much about life, but they know that they’re the only people for each other. they’ve been inseparable since y/n had toddled into spencer’s first grade class and heard him reciting a john lyngate poem. her favorite book at that time was a brightly colored picture book, so she was both fascinated and confused by the boy in glasses in front of her. that day, they’d sat together on the bus and chatted the whole way home. the pure elation that occurred when the children realized they shared the same bus stop was unmatched. y/n, who’d just moved to las vegas, was relieved she’d met a friend in her new hometown.

she didn’t really meet any other friends after associating herself with spencer. he’d warned her that being his best friend was basically social suicide, but y/n was already attached to him like superglue. once, a girl in their class had tried to invite y/n to sit with her at lunch. the girl not-so-subtly made it clear that spencer was not invited to the table, and y/n had shut that down quickly with a swift spoonful of red jell-o down her shirt. spencer decided then that red jell-o was his favorite.

to sum it all up, in super simple terms, y/n and spencer were close. and everyone in their town knew it, including their parents, although both sets of adults were generally nonplussed about what their children were involved in as long as they were alive and surviving.

y/n’s parents aren’t neglectful, per se. she’d just had to learn how to fend for herself very early on. y/n’s existence had been an accident, and although she didn’t know that in explicit terms, it wasn’t hard to figure out based on the lack of maternal instincts from her mother. y/n’s mother sat on the back porch of their house a lot, looking out at their tiny, barren backyard with a cigarette in hand. her father went away on many business trips, coming back to greet the family only with a pat on y/n’s head before he padded up to the bedroom to slip into bed. one day, y/n would realize the intensity of the mental health problems both of her parents were suffering from, but as a child, the adults in her life just felt far away.

spencer’s parents were similar in a sense that they weren’t the best. rather than the silence that settled over y/n’s house, his home filled with argument. it’s why he found solace with y/n, with their blanket fort. y/n’d offered to let him live with them constantly, but spencer couldn’t leave his mother. his father? he couldn’t care less. but his mother...as much as spencer longs to spend his days curled up in y/n’s bed, reading, he knows above anything else, he’s got to protect his mother.

after closing the door behind spencer, y/n skips to the kitchen to pour herself a drink. her and spencer had made fresh lemonade the day before, squeezing lemons y/n had stolen from her neighbor’s tree. spencer had been in charge of the sugar, and he’d added way too much. the pair tried it, though, and liked the super sweet taste.

y/n fills her glass with ice, having to stand on her tippy toes to reach it in the freezer. after the cup is filled with the sugary beverage, she takes a second to peer out of the window and check on her mom outside. y/n expected to find her in her usual plastic chair, cloud of smoke encircling her. but she wasn’t there. this was odd. she sets her sweating glass down on the table, and wanders upstairs to get a location on her mother.

loud moans float down from the top of the stairs, and y/n, ever naive, follows the sound to its source. the stairs creak under her feet, her house old and probably close to crumbling. y/n pushes the door to her parents’ room open with both hands, and is immediately sick at the sight. at seven years old, she doesn’t fully understand what’s happening, but she knows that whatever she is seeing is wrong.

william reid, spencer’s father, is laid naked next to her mother, also fully exposed. they’re startled by the door opening, shocked to see young y/n standing there, witnessing their adultery. the three of them are in a trance, suspended in surprise. y/n’s brain is moving a mile a minute, she knows, but she can’t seem to form any cohesive thoughts except “this is not right.” it feels like forever that y/n is holding eye contact with william before her mother speaks. “y/n,” she starts, but y/n doesn’t stick around to hear the end of the sentence. she’s out of the bedroom and out of the house in 30 seconds flat.

as she runs down the suburban street, she’s barely aware of the tears rolling down her cheeks or the pain in her feet. she’d forgotten shoes. she runs, runs, runs, hair flowing behind her. she runs until her thoughts catch up to her. where can she go? she realizes that her body had been taking her straight to spencer’s house, but she couldn’t. how could she look him in the eye? how could she tell him that her own mother is responsible for his family falling apart? how could she ever even be near him again? stopping in the middle of the road, y/n lets out an anguished scream. a ferocious scream. a scream that claws its way out of her chest. and then, sufficiently exhausted by both her physical activity and her emotional despair, she turns back the way she came and begins to trek back towards her house.

- - - - - -

“penny, i have no clue how you do your job,” y/n says, handing the blonde woman before her a hot macchiato in a to-go cup.

her hair is longer now, her eyes more weary. the wonder she felt as a child is long gone, sucked out of her on that fateful night. y/n hardly thinks about it anymore, but that night after she had gone home, her mother made her pack her bags and took her as far away from vegas as possible. as far away from spencer as possible. she never saw him again. it’s been almost twenty years since she’d last seen the geeky boy. the loss of her childhood best friend was a dull wound now, one tucked safely in the back of her subconscious. sometimes she wonders how he turned out, but their time together feels more like a dream than a memory.

y/n moved away from her parents as soon as she turned 18, straight to washington d.c.. with no money, no degree, no friends or family, y/n turned to her work. she got a job in a tiny coffee shop, and the elderly lady who owned it took her under her wing. her name was janice, and she was an old, childless widow. y/n’s kind disposition filled a void janice had given up on trying to fill, and the two became a fierce pair. janice provided y/n with the apartment above the shop, higher-than-minimum wage, and when janice passed five years later, y/n inherited the coffee shop itself. she’d been owning and running it ever since.

it was at this shop that she met penelope garcia. penelope frequented the kitschy coffee place before work, and had gained quite the soft spot for the raven-haired owner. the two of them chatted every morning as y/n flitted around behind the counter, making whatever caffeine-filled concoction penelope had ordered. eventually, their friendship progressed past casual small talk at y/n’s work into wine-filled sleepover nights at their apartments.

“my job is hard, my friend,” penelope replies, shuddering. “some of the stuff i see gives me the heebie jeebies.”

“yeah, like dead bodies.” y/n turns and begins making her own personal coffee to start the day, penelope leaning on the counter in front of her. “heebie jeebies is an understatement!” y/n faces penelope again and grins, pouring copious amounts of sugar into a mug that janice had used while running the café.

“you know, y/n, i only know one other person in the world that takes that much sugar in their coffee,” penelope remarks while she watches the barista stir her obscenely sweet coffee with a wooden stirrer.

“hmm, they must be my soulmate, then,” y/n says. penelope’s ears perk up at that. she makes her way to the door, and y/n raises her mug in lieu of a wave. “have fun at work, pen! see you at your place tonight! i’ll bring wine!” penelope responds with a witty goodbye and heads to work, just the jingle of the bells on the door to signify she was ever there.

-----

penelope saunters into the behavioral analysis unit office 30 minutes later, cup of coffee long empty. “good morning, babygirl,” derek says.

“i’ll show you a good morning, hot stuff,” penelope deadpans, walking through the bullpen to greet all of her coworkers. penelope’s so bright that she immediately lights up the dreary BAU.

“spencer!” she calls, prompting the shaggy haired doctor to look up from his desk.

“good morning, garcia,” he says with a small wave.

“this morning, i got coffee at my favorite place,” penelope begins to gush, “and the barista puts just as much sugar in her coffee as you do!”

spencer doesn't understand why garcia is telling him this until she continues.

“this particular barista happens to be super cute and also one of my closest friends.”

spencer shakes his head with a laugh. “no, garcia, i’m not letting you set me up again.”

“okay, the first one was not good, i’ll admit.” she perches on the edge of his desk.

“but i actually know this girl! and i love her!”

spencer shakes his head again, giving penelope a light, joking push off of her seat. “no,” he emphasizes, and garcia gives him a dramatic sigh.

“okay,” she says, dragging out the word. “i’m going to go to my lair now to give you time to

think about it.” she presses a kiss to the top of his head, and with a ruffle of his hair, she floats to her office.

i’ll convince him, she thinks. i mean, how could i not? coffee aside, the kids are perfect for each other. she doesn’t know how she missed the blatant similarities between them. penelope’s usually very perceptive, and that makes her really good at setting people up. i might as well be cupid, she thinks, except for that one date i’d sent spencer on. she chooses to ignore that one. a minor lapse in judgement.

penelope pulls out her phone to text y/n.

penelope (7:56): y/n, my love, my light, i have found the most perfect guy for you

y/n (7:57): no penny, not again

y/n (7:57): remember the last date you set me up on?

oh yeah, penelope remembers. she’d sent both of her friends on two completely separate, shitty dates. maybe cupid wasn’t the best nickname for her.

penelope (7:59): you’re right. ugh. ix-nay on that idea then

she attaches a lot of sad emojis, then tucks her phone away. there goes that. penelope tucks that idea away, into the depths of her brain, and forgets about it.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler fluff #Spencer Reid angst #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut #my writing #to the moon and to saturn #to the moon and to saturn chapter one #Spencer Reid x you

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

Text

handmaid - 33

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, guns

A/N: we’re a few chapters away from the end and i’m much too emotional. hope you enjoy this chapter x

NEXT CHAPTER

Her reflection in the mirror was quite clear: the handmaid was dressed like a bridesmaid. She observed the tiny details of the dress which reached all the way to the ground, the same tiny details reproduced on every single dress any of her bridesmaids were wearing and in that exact moment, Y/N never felt more hypocritical than ever before wearing a celebration dress for a celebration she didn’t want to celebrate. She really wanted to be happy for her and if she were marrying anyone else, she would’ve been so excited, but she wasn’t. Gwen was marrying Sebastian, she was marrying the man she was in love with and the man who was unknowingly the father of her baby.

Everything just seemed to happen in slow motion and she felt herself leave more and more from the scene as she stood there in her bridesmaid dress and berry coloured lipstick with no one talking or even noticing she was there. For the first time in her life she realised how invisible she was to everyone in that room. Every single person in that room had once asked for her help being with homework or lying and she was still as invisible as ever. As the bridal party exchanged various gifts to be used on her “first night” along with unholy amounts of champagne and expensive gourmet canapés, Y/N took away from the bedroom, slowly and quietly closing the door. The halls of the Ritz were filled with several guests from mob families’ heads to their friends, celebrities, public personalities and rich people waiting for the time to get a peek the blushing bride. Y/N would have easily swayed through the crowd and returned to her bedroom had it not been for a few flower girls running around in their puffy taffeta baby pink dresses with their hair up in silky ribbons with some flowers peppered around.

She didn’t know if it was her hormones playing tricks on her or if the lack of sleep had finally caught up to her but she couldn’t help but stare at them with an inherent sadness as her hand rested against her stomach. Was she gonna even have enough to provide for her child? The pay checks coming from being in Sebastian’s employment wouldn’t be enough for more than the first year and with the economy, Y/N didn’t think someone would be looking for an English Literature major. She had never even had experience in the field, being forbidden to do a internship year at the British Museum with the excuse that it would be much too dangerous. How was she gonna provide for the baby? Maybe she could get a job as a waitress in Paris, the city was filled with cafés and restaurants.

Nevertheless, she couldn’t help but feel worry as her thumb caressed her stomach. Turning her head away from the playing children she continued her way down the hall until the lift that would take her to her bedroom. Y/N watched the numbers of the doors go down until she noticed Sebastian’s door. Unlike Gwen’s door, there was no one awaiting outside, it was void of any seemingly curious people about the groom. She should really keep walking and not get in, yet she felt pity for him not having his mother or his father on his wedding day and so she knocked softly on his door, opening it to see Sebastian walking from side to side, a condensed glass of orange coloured whiskey on his left hand and a untied tie hanging from his neck.

- Liquid courage? - she walked into his room. He looked at her for a few seconds before gulping the rest of his beverage, cleaning his lips with the back of his hand afterwards. - Where are your groomsmen?

- In the same place where non-existent things belong. - he replied, turning to his floor length mirror to try and tie his tie to no avail. Y/N sighed, placing her hands in his shoulders and turning him to face her before her hands moved to his tie to tie it into a Windsor not.

- You surely must have someone close enough to be your groomsman or best man. - she straightened his crisp cotton dress shirt before sliding her hands back to his shoulders. She let out a sigh, looking to the other side and contemplating what she was about to ask him. - Let’s run away.

- What?

- Let’s go to France. There’s a place I know which would definitely take us in until we found a place since I’m sure Mr. Forrest wouldn’t allow me to keep the house. Let’s just go, please.

- What? Angel, we can’t just run away, my whole money is dependent on this marriage. How am I supposed to take care of you? Do you know how many enemies I have? I couldn’t possibly hire enough security for you. - he cupped her face, trying to make her understand her point. - I will never have enough to give you if we leave.

- As long as you’re with me, that would be enough. Am I not enough?

- Angel, there is a legally binding contract between me and Genevieve. I can’t just ... I promised my father. - Y/N took a step back, hitting the door while her hand held the knob. - We can’t rush in, we need to have a pla ...

- Why do you care so much about what your father made you promise when you were a child. The same child whose mother he forbad you from seeing ... you know Sebastian, just because your father was a great man, doesn’t mean he was a good one.

Before he could reply to her, she opened the door and exited, rushing through the hall and punching the button of the lift so she could return to her bedroom before she completely broke down. She could feel her chest clenched and the warmness of her tears which almost burned the brim of her eyes. All she could hear was her heart pounding in her ear mixed with the soft music of the lift and nothing made her want to break down more in tears than she should.

As she rushed into her bedroom she collapsed on her bed, the tears finally rolling down. Mr. Williams was right, she was a mistress and a innocent mistress at that. Why would she believe he would run away? Why would he gave up on what he knew for her? But will all of that, what would she do with the baby? She clearly couldn’t stay, Gwen and Dan would be quick to notice her growing bump along with other pregnancy symptoms? No, she had to leave. Start again, start again Y/N. She can’t spend her whole life dreaming despite it being all she seemed inclined to do. She was about to be a mother and needed a brand new start. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she opened the bedside drawer to pull out the key to her apartment in France but instead of it she found a blanket. Her eyes couldn’t believe the picture they saw as she realised it was the same blanket she had left back in Sebastian’s penthouse.

- My, my, there must be quite a story to go with that blanket. - her blood froze as she turned her face towards one corner of the bedroom to see Mr. Williams sat on her arm chair. - Won’t you tell me?

- Get out. - she held tightly onto her pillow, fear installing itself in her whole being?

- No? Alright then. - he grinned darkly. - I will tell you a story. Once upon a time there was a man who was deeply in love with a beautiful young woman. He used to sit in the box of her operas every single night just to hear her sing and all was well ... But, one day, the beautiful woman shows up engaged to a mob boss. He quickly understood that in this world love is meaningless and all that matters is power so, he decided that he was gonna get as much as he could and maybe win the woman as a treat too. He planned everything, he had her unborn daughter’s safety put in risk knowing the young woman would rush to his employer for help. He thought that surely offering his employer the only family that stood in his way would make him overcome with joy and he would finally promote the man to the type of power he wanted. However, the employer instead decided to make sure that family would never stand in his way by ensuring his son would marry the young woman’s precious daughter. The man knew his only way to power was if that daughter disappeared so he decided he would kill her yet when he tried the beautiful young woman stood in the way and he couldn’t finish the job.

- Why are you telling me this?

- The father of the young woman’s daughter grew worried that his precious little daughter would be harmed again so he made an orphan baby pass out as his daughter to ensure she would never be harmed. However, the father was much too weak to completely give the baby up and instead kept her around as a handmaid. The man thought power was just on the horizon but then at a masquerade he saw the eyes of the same woman he loved controlling the man who held the power he deserved. And so, I lived unhappily ever after.

- You’re lying. - she could feel her heart pound harder as she felt into an abyss of existentialism. What do you do when you see that who you think you are isn’t what you think you are.

- I knew I would have to get some concrete proof so I asked a few favours. I knew Michael Forrest wouldn’t leave his only child, his only daughter completely penniless and so when I saw your name as the sole benefactor of his will I had my proof.

- But Dan ...

- Daniel Forrest is nothing but an affair gone wrong whom he took pity on but you ... you were born more powerful than I have ever been. Not only are you the sole benefactor of a whole entire family’s work and prestige, you also were born rich enough to never work a single day on your life. Everything was given to you and you didn’t even know it while I paid and I suffered only to see that petulant man child grab the spot that I rightfully deserved. - Y/N looked at her door hoping Elias would be there to help her out, she really hoped someone would pass be. He had to be lying, he had to be lying. - Here is how you’re gonna pay me if you were to have what you so want. No one will believe you, a pregnant mistress who isn’t even smart enough to dispose of her own pregnancy test and your daddy would never allow you to be married to someone from the Stan family, but with me on your side, with my evidence, they will listen. When you are married, you will make me a personal adviser and you will put forward my good name and I shall manage that clueless little man child who should’ve never been born in the first place.

- He’s not clueless. - her voice was low but full of intention.

- And who are you? How are you gonna rule two mob families if you can’t even piece together who your parents were even with me giving you clues. Best give it to me, that way both of us will have exactly what we want.

- No. - she stood up from her bed, looking him down from where he was standing much to his surprise. - I couldn’t defend my mother from you but I will protect Sebastian.

- Well, birdie ... - his hand grabbed something from his side and as it hit the light, Y/N realised her was holding a gun in her direction. - Who will protect you?

- Please, don’t do this. - she pleaded. - I ... I told Sebastian not to be harsh with you, I helped you, I was kind to you.

- Kindness doesn’t get you anywhere in this business. - he noticed her eyes on the door and chuckled. - Your bodyguard thinks you’re in the bridal suit, no one is gonna come looking for you. Now, you’re gonna be a good girl to me and go with me to the car or I’ll make sure they find your bodyguard in a pool of his own blood.

He got up from his seat and rushed to her, putting her in front of him, one hand gripping her arm while the other one held the gun against her spine. She could feel her heart beat and flashes of everything she had done since she remembered living. Was she gonna die? Was this how she ended? Nevertheless, there was nowhere she could go as he led her drown the stairs and onto the lobby, stopping as he noticed the telephone on the entrance table. He turned her harshly towards the desk until her ribs hit the edge and before the assistant could say anything, he pointed his gun at her.

- Sebastian always thinks he has everything under control, I’m about to show him just how wrong he is. - he ordered the woman to type in a number on the hotel’s phone before grabbing it himself. - If you want this lovely lady not to have a bullet in the middle of her eyes you are gonna tell him you’re pregnant and how scared you are.

He shoved the phone against her ear, hurting her in the process and she could feel her tears burn the brim of her eyes yet again as the loud beeping played around and around before he picked it up, a rather upsetting hello coming through. She, however, couldn’t say anything which quickly changed as he pressed the gun against her back rather forcefully.

- Go on. - he whispered against her ear as Sebastian said another hello on the phone.

- S...Sebastian, it’s Y/N ... - the gun pressed harder on her back. - I’m scared, Sebastian. I’m scared.

- Are you alright?

- Now, don’t play games with me Y/N. Go on ... tell him

- I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry.

- Angel, whatever it is, you can tell me.

- I’m pregnant.

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fiddlepickdouglas · 3 years

Text

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 8 - Familiar

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, is it him?, 2.8k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Alex sat at his drum set, sticks in hand, and began hitting things at random. Watching the cymbals wobble at dramatic angles every time he made a blow, hearing the crash ring in his ears over and over, making the toms sound da-da-dum in a roll, like his frustration could finally sound out something that fit what he meant to get across. His mom had bought him a punching bag last Christmas in a passive aggressive insistence that he needed a quiet thing to hit if he was going to get things out. Sure, he used it, but only when he actually wanted to work out. He made sure she knew so she couldn’t complain to him about wasting her money on such an expensive gift.

He needed the drums specifically. His thoughts and feelings couldn’t always come out of his mouth, but they were definitely sounds. It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t make them with his own tongue. The only time he’d gotten close was when he and Willie had been screaming over the railing of the observation deck at the Stratosphere a few weeks ago.

Today’s tantrum (and preceding argument) was over school. He was a good student, but the way things were going with Sunset Curve, Alex had little desire to continue. What was another year of subjects he already grasped the concept of when he had no plans to use them? It was a circular conversation at this point, like most things he had with his parents lately. Sometimes he could nod and pretend to just accept whatever they said, but other times they got under his skin. They got in like termites, making anything that was stable inside before feel hollow and weak.

A knock sounded at the door and Alex stilled his cymbals before getting up to answer it. It was his younger sister, Abby.

“You have a phone call,” she told him. Her tone was sassy, but Alex smiled a little at hearing it mirror his own. She was learning. He was proud. Messing up her hair as he moved past her, he went over to the phone and grabbed the receiver.

“Hey, what’s up?” he answered, knowing it could only be one of three people on the other end.

“Hey, man.” It was Bobby. “Luke’s been having a rough day. He won’t say that it’s because Julie is heading out to finish her tour soon, but I’m pretty sure that’s what it’s about. Reggie and I are thinking we take him to the pier; hopefully we can distract him.”

“That’s a perfect idea,” Alex said. “I can meet you at your place in about five minutes.”

“Sweet, dude, see ya.”

They hung up and Alex grabbed his fanny pack, slipping outside without saying a word to anyone. If his parents weren’t used to it by now that was their fault.

Less than an hour later, all the guys were on the boardwalk, surrounded by the many games and rides at Santa Monica. Someone else was busking in the corner they usually occupied, playing a saxophone and they each dropped some change in the tin set out before them. Luke was bouncy and energetic for the most part, but relatively quiet. A few thrill rides would break the silence soon enough, though.

They all walked with their arms around each other’s shoulders, forming a wall that forced anyone else to move around them. Alex had made sure Luke was in the middle, sandwiched between him and Reggie, with Bobby on Reggie’s other side. It didn’t last long, thanks to Alex’s long legs getting them all out of sync, but they still liked doing it. Soon it was just Luke and Reggie, letting Bobby and Alex walk slightly ahead on their own.

“We wanna get something to eat first?” Luke suggested.

“And blow chunks on the rides?” Alex responded. “Kinda not in the mood to pay for my own puke, thank you.”

The look of slight horror on Luke’s face made Bobby laugh.

“Thanks, Alex, for that,” Luke was saying.

“Guys, there’s a short line over here!” Reggie was already heading toward one of the rides, eyes bright with excitement. Alex held out a hand so Bobby could go before him, receiving a head shake of denial before he followed him and pulled Luke along behind. It was a two-seater anyway, and even if Alex weren’t trying to give them a nudge, having Reggie scream in front of him was far better than directly into his ears.

He usually didn’t scream on the rides as much, but he took the opportunity this time. It felt great. Willie had unknowingly given him a gift in that simple act of emptying his lungs into the air. Ride after ride, he wanted to lose his voice to all the things he let out. The safety guards didn’t quite feel like Willie’s hands grabbing onto his jacket, but he wanted to pretend. Among all the realities he kept near his chest, it was alright to imagine he still had Willie there - smiling, giggling, hands open to be held.

He’d had a good amount of time to bang it out once they’d gotten home. Alex broke more sticks that day than he ever had in his life. The main reason he stopped was because Abby came to his room crying, both because she was extremely annoyed and could tell something was wrong. Maybe his parents weren’t much for support, but he was grateful for her. He was also glad she was only nine and was still a huge cuddle bug.

After getting dizzy on rides, Luke was finally at full energy again and had moved them onto games. Alex preferred to watch, but Luke and Bobby were competitive while Reggie cheered for both.

“Is this what it was like in the arcade?” Alex asked, elbowing Reggie as he hollered at Bobby trying to throw a basketball in the net.

“You bet!” Reggie turned with a smile. “We went lo-co.” He enunciated the last word. “You got this Bobby!”

Luke had finished his turn and come up with nothing, so he joined the other two.

“Okay, after this, I’m hungry so I say we get hot dogs,” he told them.

“Yes,” Alex agreed, feeling hungry himself.

Suddenly Reggie began cheering, and they turned to see Bobby celebrating as well as he made a final shot into the hoop. The guy working the booth let him choose from their ridiculously large stuffed animals, and he grabbed a giant puppy. Reggie’s excitement overcame him and once Bobby was facing his direction, Reggie butted his forehead against him, leaving Bobby blinking in confusion. Yikes, Alex thought. They were going to take a long time to sort things out.

Luke guided them all to his favorite hot dog vendor and they all sat at a table that was placed along a wall covered in posters. Alex positioned himself facing away from the table. Sometimes they liked to scout venues they hadn’t tried playing at yet, and it had been a while since they had come to the pier to check the wall. The missing person posters had become more numerous in their corner, which was a sad change. Alex saw one for the Viper Room and nearly had the impulse to cross himself reverently for the sake of Rivers Phoenix.

He unfortunately spotted a familiar face among the missing person posters. Luke’s parents were still hoping he would come back home. He peeked up at the rest of the guys, all bent over their food too far to pay attention, and decided he didn’t need to say anything. The whole thing with the Pattersons was touchy for all of them, but he knew it wasn’t a good idea to bring it up.

Taking a bite into his own hot dog, Alex looked back up and caught the picture beneath Luke. It was a young boy, aged nine, with dark hair growing over his ears.

William was the only name associated with him, but it listed other things like ‘missing since 1988,’ and ‘last seen in Reno, NV’ and a physical description. Alex furrowed his brow and slowly chewed the rest of his bite as he lifted a hand to pat Reggie on the back.

“Hey, you - you don’t think that’s Willie, do you?” he asked quietly, pointing at the poster. Reggie looked over his shoulder at the kid in the picture. He returned a look of sympathy to Alex.

“Alex,” he said softly. “I know you miss him, buddy, but sometimes a kid is just a random kid. We’ve probably seen his poster every time we’ve been here and just never cared. I hope the little dude’s okay, though.” He glanced back at the picture before facing forward again.

“Yeah,” Alex huffed lightly. “You’re probably right.” He flipped himself around to face the rest of the guys at the table and finish his food, ignoring the pit in his chest.

Julie sat by her mom’s side, holding her hand gently and feeling her breathe as she rested soundly. She was going to hate leaving in the morning, but she only had to finish this leg of the tour and then she could be home. They had made plans together to make scrapbooks about her shows, and she wasn’t going to miss it. Her mom always knew how to motivate her, and she was really grateful for that.

One of the nurses entered the room and gave her a sweet smile. She had kind, squinting eyes and her black hair was tied into a bun that had since loosened up.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just making some checks, doing some cleaning, this and that,” she said.

“I don’t mind at all,” Julie assured her. It was hardly the first time she’d been around while one of the nurses was doing their routines. Something about it had become calming, like it let her know that her mom was in good hands.

“She’s so proud of you,” the woman said among her movements.

Looking up, Julie felt her chest straining to hold the weight that had entered. She couldn’t help but take those words as heavy as they could come.

“I’m sure she tells you, but if you weren’t already making a name for yourself the entire hospital would know who you are by now anyway.”

“She talks a lot, huh?” Julie asked solemnly, a hint of a smile pulling the corners of her mouth.

The nurse raised her eyebrows.

“When she’s having a good day, she’s the best to be around.”

Julie nodded.

“That’s my mom,” she said quietly, smiling.

They both were quiet as the nurse continued about her work.

“Do you have any kids?” Julie asked.

The nurse chuckled.

“Quite a few, actually. I have six. Well, seven, but six at home with me.”

“Wow!” Julie couldn’t imagine handling that big of a family.

“Some of them are older than you, but my youngest is ten now. Most of them just go off and do their own thing or take care of each other.”

“Does the seventh have their own family?”

Pausing, the nurse seemed to blink strangely. She took in a deep breath and then went back to the sheet she had been folding.

“No, unfortunately, we lost him,” she said, the warmth she had spoken with earlier a little more withdrawn.

Julie immediately felt bad for asking, and she seemed to freeze at the tension.

“Don’t be sorry,” the nurse said. “I don’t mean he passed away. We don’t know where he is.”

A horrific realization swept over Julie as she realized there was something more terrifying than the death of a loved one. Not knowing where they were or if they were okay - it sounded like hell. A well of pity deepened inside her heart.

“Has it been a long time?” she asked tentatively.

The nurse nodded.

“It’s hard to let go,” she said, almost sounding like she was changing the subject. “But we all figure out something that helps us carry on.” She straightened with her clipboard in hand at Rose’s bedside.

“What did you find?” Julie asked, genuinely hoping it was a good answer.

The nurse’s eyes glistened as she smiled wistfully.

“Never forgetting,” she said. “But I think you’ve already found something that will help you.”

Julie cocked her head to the side, not understanding what she meant.

“My niece is a big fan, by the way,” the woman said, bowing her head down as she exited the room.

A small noise from her mom made Julie turn to see her eyes slowly opening up.

“Hey, mom,” she said softly, leaning closer to her.

Rose smiled and rubbed her thumb over Julie’s hand.

“Sweetie, hi,” she responded in a raspy voice. “You’re gonna play a mini show for that nurse’s niece, too, aren’t you?”

Julie chuckled. Of course she could overhear them.

“I’m thinking about it,” she told her.

Quietly shutting the front door behind him, Alex surveyed his family’s dark front room before tip-toeing up the stairs to his room. Thank goodness his dad wasn’t reading in the living room this time. He was always guaranteed to be caught when that happened. Once he got to his bedroom he took off his hat and fanny pack and was pulling his hoodie over his head when he heard a small knock. Dammit, he’d be so close.

Opening his door, he looked down to see Abby in her pajamas holding something behind her back.

“Abby, god,” he whispered. “I thought you were gonna be mom.”

She shyly shook her head. Her little blonde braids made small shuffling noises as they barely reached past her shoulders.

“What did you want?” Alex asked her.

“I wanted to show you my picture,” she told him quietly.

Any other night he would’ve sent her back to her room to show him in the morning, but her cuteness was a weapon and Alex was oddly weak tonight.

“Come here,” he said, nodding his head to let her inside. He patted the space beside him on his bed. She grinned as she sat cross-legged and held up the picture.

Alex could definitely identify himself, because she always drew him with his fanny pack on. There was also what appeared to be Luke, Reggie, and Bobby.

“Wait, who’s that?” he asked, pointing to a fifth person in the picture.

“It’s your other friend. I don’t know their name. I heard you talking about them.”

Alex sat back and looked at her, not sure if he was mad about it or not. He tried to be cryptic in his conversations over the phone with the guys, especially if they brought up Willie, so how she picked up on anything was almost impressive.

“Do you not like it?” Abby wondered.

Shaking his head, Alex put his arm around her and squeezed her into his side.

“Abby, this is great!” he assured. “I just didn’t know you paid such good attention.”

“I have good hearing, you know,” she stated proudly. Alex chuckled and gave her a light noogie. “Heeeyy!!” She put up her hands to get him off of her.

“Look at this, though!” he said, pointing to the drawing. “You even got that he has long hair!”

“It’s a boy?” she exclaimed, and then clamped her hand over her mouth. “You have a crush on a boy?”

Alex’s jaw hung open a few seconds too long and immediately felt his body begin to shake and all words were caught in his throat.

“I know what that’s like, Alex,” Abby was saying, in her sassy way. It was enough to reboot his brain.

“Wait, how do you know that? You’re nine!” He looked at her like she was his odd sister again.

Abby simply shrugged.

“Not telling you about it,” was all she said. “And your boy sounds cute.”

The emotion that took over was too good to just be relief. Alex pulled her into a tight hug, seriously trying not to cry. They sat like that for a minute until he got afraid of crushing her.

“You’re a stinker,” he told her, rubbing her back and lightly kissing the top of her head. “But I love you.”

“I love you too, Alex,” she said, voice muffled against his chest.

“Alright, now go to bed, okay?” He let go of her and she hopped off the bed and out the door. Seeing it shut behind her, Alex climbed under the sheets and lay on his back, exhaling sharply. She had been kept out of that conversation long enough, he guessed. It barely even had to be one with her. He let a few tears leak out before aggressively wiping them off his face and turning on his side. Man, did he need some shut-eye.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #fanfic #jatp fanfic #willex #alive au #alex mercer #willie #luke patterson #reggie peters #bobby wilson #julie molina #rose molina #viva las vegas #familiar #fiddlepickdouglas

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tricksters-captain · 4 years

Text

Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz/Birds of Prey imagines - Pussy Cat

AN: Second Gif credit is @ewanmcgregorz

Overall Summary: You’re Roman’s little ‘pussy cat’. From the moment he met you, you were his but when you catch Zsasz fantasising over you... Things change...

Pairing(s): Roman Sionis xReader, (some) Victor Zsasz x Reader

Word count: 2,920

Warnings: Smut, Masturbation, Cheating, Strong Language, unprotected sex

“Good morning my pussy cat.” Roman announced his presence as he turned the corner from the bedroom and sauntered down the hall in his pyjamas and dressing gown.

You sat at the dining table opposite from Zsasz and your eyes glided over to Roman’s handsome morning look as you sipped your coffee.

“Morning my love.” You greeted him back, kissing his lips lightly as he leant down before he rounded your chair to find his own.

Your eyes moved back to your gaze on Zsasz as he stared at you back with hard look.

“Morning Victor. Terrible weather this morning, I’m afraid we’ll have to move our plans over to tomorrow and perhaps arrange our meeting at the docks with Mr William’s for this afternoon.” Roman helped himself to the filling spread across the table, picking up some pancakes and fruit.

“You got it, Boss.” Victor’s eyes didn’t leave yours as he spoke.

You smirked at the staring match you two seemed to have going and you even saw Zsasz lip twitch on the corner but he controlled himself before Roman could pick up on the little game.

“Are we still on for dinner tonight or shall I leave my dress at the dry cleaner another day or so?” You couldn't help but be cheeky with Roman which only earned a raised eyebrow and a dangerous smile.

“Of course, Kitten. I wouldn’t want to disappoint you now.” Roman’s nickname for you rolled off his tongue and you smiled.

Roman had called you his ‘pussy cat’ since he met you. You had walked into his club for the very first time and his eyes were watching your every move from the moment you passed through the doors.

You had reminded him of a sleek curious cat with your dark cat-like eyeliner and your silky hair that framed your face almost perfectly. You wore a black dress that hung off you, low cut at the front and even lower at the back. The thin material clung to your hips and cascaded down to the bottom of your heels, your knees only just moving the slinky dress with every step.

You studied the room as Roman watched you. Zsasz had noticed his boss had been distracted by someone that night and when he saw you, he soon understood why.

Roman immediately swooped you up that night and claimed you as his own. Within hours of meeting you, he knew he never wanted anyone else to have you but he also learned soon enough not to keep you on too tight a leash.

You’d been together a while now, long enough for the entire city of Gotham to know this wasn’t some usual fling.

Zsasz had grown more trustworthy of you, something very hard for him to do as all he’s wanted to do was protect his boss, but it was rare that you and Zsasz were alone too long together.

“Don’t forget you have a meeting with Miss Lance this lunchtime to discuss her new suggestions.” You reminded Roman as you rose from the table in your silk dressing gown similar to Roman’s but white.

“Thank you, my love.” Roman beckoned you towards him and you obliged, kissing him once again before you left to change for the day.

Roman was right; the weather was terrible which lead you to make the decision to stay in for the day. You spent the morning doing some yoga and working out before you finally crashed on the couch.

Roman was downstairs dealing with some business with the club and some potential new decor that might be added so nothing too risky/dangerous. By the time lunch came around and Roman was due to have his meeting with Black Canary, he sent Zsasz up to check on you.

When you heard footsteps coming towards you, you began to stir from your nap.

“So, we’re all working hard and you get to snooze?” Zsasz said with a light sarcasm as he came into view.

“Deciding on new wallpaper and seat covers isn’t exactly what I would call hard work, Mr Zsasz.” You teased the man, you actually knew that the faffing was all Roman’s business and that Zsasz would have been making business calls and sorting meetings for Roman that morning.

You stretched out on the couch as you spoke. Zsasz couldn't help but let his eyes travel across your body as you reached up, extending like a feline before turning and resting on your stomach.

You hadn’t changed from the morning so wore a simple sports bra and yoga shorts which hugged the curve on your ass as you lied down on your stomach.

“Ha Ha Ha.” Zsasz responded as he studied you.

“Roman sent you up to babysit or are you just visiting?” You knew Roman worried about you and you didn't mind too much when he sent one of his guys to check on you.

“You wish, princess. I’m just here to grab something for the Boss.” Zsasz was a pretty good liar usually but you learned to see through his bullshit. You knew well that Zsasz didn’t really like admitting that Roman sent him up to see you, he thought it might drive you away from Roman or cause a fight and he’d be damned if he started a fight between you two. He wouldn’t hear the end of it from Roman for days...

You smiled brightly at the man to which he just turned and headed to his bedroom.

You spent the next minute lying on the couch before you got bored and decided you should probably shower.

You walked down the hall towards yours and Roman’s bedroom when you passed Zsasz’s door.

An unusual noise made you stop just outside.

“Fuck...” Zsasz groaned, his slow pants audible through the door.

You were frozen. You didn’t know if moving away would make it more awkward. What if he heard your footsteps if you walked away and then he would know you were hovering outside?

“(Y/n)...” Your name rolled off of Zsasz’s tongue clear as day.

You felt your heart stop and your insides flutter.

The door was slightly ajar, closed but not closed enough to latch so you could easily push it open a fraction without him noticing.

You didn’t know what you were doing when you found yourself peering through the tiny gap with curiosity.

You could see Zsasz in his mirror opposite the bed he was sat on.

He had his eyes closed, his length in his hand and his chin slightly raised with his lips apart.

You bit down on your lip subconsciously as you watched the man stroke himself, cursing and moaning your name every few strokes.

His member was large in his hand, you could feel yourself tighten at the sight and your mouth seemed to go dry.

“Holy shit...” Zsasz moaned again, his low voice making his thick accent undeniably beguiling.

You watched him in the mirror as he started to pump faster, drawing himself closer and closer to climax.

Zsasz’s tongue darted across his bottom lip as his moans became louder and more gruff.

He threw his head back as he came. His seed spilling over his knuckles as he placed his other hand above his tip.

You weren’t aware that you stopped breathing in that moment.

When Zsasz cleared his throat and hunched over to return his member to his pants, you took that moment to walk away, picking up your feet as lightly as you could.

You reached the bathroom and shut the door, falling against it with wide eyes and a new found hunger.

You switched on the shower and immediately stripped, trying to cool yourself down from what you just witnessed.

(Gif by @directedbysnyder)

You didn’t see Zsasz again until later that day.

You brushed through your hair as you sat in front of your vanity mirror, you were dressed ready to go to dinner but as always waiting on Roman.

“Boss is waiting downstairs.” Zsasz knocked lightly on your door,

You looked at him in the mirror, he hovered in the door way, his fingers tapping on the door frame as he waited for your response.

“He’s not changing?” You asked, trying not to stare at his fingers too long as images filled your head.

“Guess not.” Zsasz bent his head backwards as he turned away to look down the hall.

Your chest tightened at the side of his bare neck. A vein swelling out of the skin as he looked away from you. Your eyes travelled down his neck down into his shirt where the first few buttons of his shirt were open; the scars the decorated his skin only drew you to him even more.

“What?” Zsasz had noticed you staring before you noticed he was looking back at you.

“Nothing.” You frowned, trying to play it off. You went back to fixing your hair when Zsasz rolled his eyes.

“You look great, can we go?”

You were quick to leave the apartment and jump into the car with Roman.

“Hey, I missed you.” You kissed Roman on sight and he returned it.

His leather clad hand took hold of the side of your jaw as he deepened the kiss.

You felt the fire that had been brewing since lunchtime light up with Roman’s kiss. You hiked up your dress enough to swing your leg over Roman’s lap, sitting yourself down on top of him.

Roman’s hands moved to your hips but his lips parted from yours when your hands found his belt.

“Slow down, Pussy Cat...” Roman stopped your hands with his own.

“Why?” You whined,

“Because we’re meeting important people tonight and I can’t show up looking anything less than I already look.” Roman broke the news that it wasn’t just you two. Of course, it wasn’t, why were you even expecting it to be.

“Oh.” You climbed off of Roman and pulled your dress back down.

“I’ll make it up to you later, kitten, I promise.” Roman brushed your hair from your face with the back of his hand and stroked down your neck.

You stared ahead but pushed a smile on your face before Roman signalled the driver to leave.

The evening seemed to fly by unexpectedly and soon you were back in the apartment, lying beside Roman in bed.

Roman snored lightly as he slept beside you.

You couldn’t sleep.

Thoughts circled your head about your dirty little secret.

You couldn't get Zsasz’s voice out of your head, or the picture of his lips only slightly parted as he breathed heavily to the thoughts of you.

You brushed your fingers across Roman’s forehead and through his hair, he didn’t stir. You loved Roman. You admired him, found him entertaining, adored his passion and excitement. You even loved his tantrums when things don’t go his way, you loved the sex that followed them too.

But after today... After seeing Zsasz...

You couldn’t get rid of the feeling, the temptation, the thought of what it may be like...

Everyone couple had their slips, their doubts, the times where they considered the idea of someone else. Right?

You slipped out of bed and headed down into the living space of the apartment.

You passed the dining table, stroking your fingers along the cool table top as you did.

It was late. You figured around 3am but the city outside was still lively. Gotham never slept.

“What are you doing?” Zsasz’s voice startled you.

You were stood by the window when Zsasz found you.

“Jesus Zsasz...” Your hand rested on your chest from where you jumped around to see him.

“It’s 3 in the morning. I heard something outside my room, I thought it were a trespasser.” That’s when you noticed the large knife in Zsasz hand.

“Well you can put that thing away, big boy, it’s just me.” The words left your mouth quickly and whilst it was something you’d usually retort you found your cheeks flushing which made you spin back around to look out the window again.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone.” Zsasz commented, ignoring your remark.

“Why not?” You asked,

“Boss has a lot of enemies. If someone down there saw yous was alone through that window...” Zsasz gestured with the knife to the window you were people watching from.

“And if they dared, Roman would have you on their asses quicker than you say peeled face.” You smiled, trying your hardest to avoid looking at Zsasz, especially since he was only half dressed.

“You should go back to bed, princess, Boss wouldn’t like waking up to an empty bed.”

“I can’t sleep.” You responded, finally looking over at the man.

His pyjama pants were low on his hips, his v-lines prominent and dark hair trailed down. They were the only item of clothes he wore as he brandished his knife. With that, you could see all the scars that scattered over his chest and neck.

“What’s that gap for?” You walked towards the man, suddenly interested in the empty space above his heart.

“That’s a special place I’m saving for the Joker’s whore, Quinn.” Zsasz tapped on the space with the tip of his knife.

“Harley Quinn?” You found yourself raising your hand to touch the empty space and you saw Zsasz visibly tense up at your touch. “You and Roman really hate her, huh?”

You smiled up at him but it soon started to fade when you saw his eyes almost boring through you.

His lips were agape much like before.

You couldn’t stop.

Your hand reached behind his head in a blink of an eye and your lips crashed against his.

Zsasz only kissed you back for a second before he remembered who you were. He pushed his hands against you and shoved you back hard, causing you to stumble back a few steps; catching yourself on the couch.

Zsasz was breathing heavy, he was unsure what to do.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You whispered, skiing your head, your eyes locked on his.

After what felt like forever, Zsasz dropped his knife and strode towards you. His hands took hold of your face as he brought you against him, kissing you like you were water and he was dying of thirst.

You grasped onto the man, your fingers burrowing into his skin as you kissed him back. His mouth still tasted minty from his toothpaste; his teeth grazed your lips.

“Fuck...” You managed to say.

Zsasz’s mouth moved down your jaw and onto your neck, you had to bite down on your lip to stay quiet.

You started pushing Zsasz towards the couch to which he didn’t resist.

Zsasz sat down on the couch and his fingers brushed against the skin on your stomach as he grabbed the hem of your pyjama top. Your stomach was doing somersaults at the connection and all you wanted was more.

When your shirt was removed and your breasts fell free, Zsasz gripped onto your wrist and pulled you down onto the couch so that he could climb on top of you.

“Naughty little kitty.” Zsasz purred as he stared down at you.

You reached up, pulling his neck down so that you could meet his lips again.

His member pressed through his pants against your leg, making the fire in your belly roar wilder.

“Fuck me.” You begged whilst the man sucked on your nipples, nipping at them lightly. “Please.”

Zsasz yanked off his pants, springing his member free before tugging down your pyjama shorts.

He stroke himself a couple times before pressing his tip against your sex, rubbing it against your wetness.

You dug your nails into the man’s scarred chest as he finally pressed himself inside of you.

“Ohh fuck...” Zsasz groaned, closing his eyes from the pleasure of your tightness.

You, being inpatient, buckled your hips against his to take him fully and Zsasz had to bite down on your shoulder to stay silent.

He pulled his head back, propping himself up on the couch with his arms as he thrusted in and out of you.

He felt even better than you imagined.

Sweat beaded on the man’s forehead, his white hair tempting you to take a handful but his length only allowing you to press your fingers against his scalp.

Zsasz cursed again before pulling out and forcefully flipping you over, taking a handful of your ass before he entered you again.

You whined as he gathered a fistful of your hair and pulled. His thrusts were hard and deep, drawing you closer to your finish with every pump.

Zsasz could tell you were close, he pulled you up towards him so that your back was touching his chest. His hand covered your mouth, his thumb inside where you let yourself suck him.

You bounced against Zsasz as he thrusted and soon you were coming undone, coming on his lap.

“Good girl.” Zsasz hissed in your ear as he rode you through it.

You turned your head and met his eyes as he continued to fuck you.

Your (y/e/c) eyes are what brought Zsasz to a finish, his seed filling you as he became sloppy and slow.

“This is our secret now.” Zsasz murmured, his chest hot against your back as he held you there. His hand now on your throat.

You nodded, running your fingers over his plump lower lip to which he moved to suck on.

This was gonna be trouble...

#Victor Zsasz #Victor Zsasz x reader #roman sionis #Roman Sionis x reader #Roman Sionis imagines #victor zsaasz imagines #Chris messina #Chris Messina imagines #Chris Messina x reader #Ewan McGregor x reader #ewan mcgregor imagines #ewan mcgregor #birds of prey #harley quinn #margot robbie #black canary #imagines #smut

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scenes-in-between · 3 years

Text

Trust No 1 (Part Four)

For the hundredth time in the last 18 hours, Gibson wonders why he agreed to this.

The train is busy and loud in a way he hasn’t had to deal with for a long time. Living for months crammed in a tiny trailer with Mulder’s noisy mind was nothing compared to this. Dozens of people in close proximity, only a handful of them asleep, all drowning each other out and making it nearly impossible to listen for threats. He finds himself trembling with the effort.

Jesus, poor kid, Mulder practically screams beside him.

“I’m fine,” he says through clenched teeth. “Just got used to the quiet.”

“Only a few more hours,” Mulder murmurs aloud, and Gibson nods.

A picture flares to life in Mulder’s mind, something Gibson has seen there before but Mulder’s never spoken about. Gibson doesn’t know if he’s remembering a nightmare or something that actually happened; it feels like the latter, but that’s impossible.

Mulder catches Gibson frowning at him and shrugs, sighing. “Sorry. I know it’s not the same, and I’m not suggesting I know exactly what you’re going through. I just can’t help remembering how it felt.”

“How what felt?”

Now Mulder’s the one to frown, confused. “You don’t know? I mean… You couldn’t see that memory just now?”

“People usually remember things in a kind of shorthand. There’s not always context. This memory of yours… I’ve seen it before, but I don’t know what it means or if it’s even real.”

“What did you see?”

“You’re in a hospital, I think. And you can hear people like I can. But it’s too much. It hurts, and you can’t… you’re not…”

“Yeah,” Mulder says quietly. “Yeah, that was real.”

“But how?”

There was an artifact, Mulder thinks. A piece of a ship, a spacecraft. I don’t know how or why it affected me like that, but it did. I could hear thoughts, but not like you do, not really. My mind couldn’t handle the input. It burned me up, shut me down. I almost died. Only reason I didn’t is that someone cut open my head and took whatever it was out of me.

Gibson can see images again as Mulder remembers waking up in that room, remembers Scully rescuing him. Mulder’s thoughts slide away from the narrative of the memory and latch on to Scully, and how he can’t wait to see her, and William, and there is this swell of affection that is unlike anything Gibson ever felt from his own parents. It makes him a little sad, even though he’s long since come to terms with the fact that his parents were always more afraid of him than anything else.

“They just cut it out of you?” Gibson prompts, hoping to steer Mulder back on course.

Mulder blinks. “Uh, yeah. I mean, I assume so. I used to have, well it was never a big scar, but…” He brushes his fingers over his forehead, almost like it’s a reflex. “Then later, after I came back from the dead, everything just… healed. Way faster and way more completely than should have even been possible. Can’t even feel the scar at all anymore. But yeah, that’s where they cut me open, and then when I woke up afterward, that was that. Only thoughts in my head were my own.”

Gibson wonders what it would be like to never hear anyone else’s thoughts, ever. The only way that ever truly happens for him is if he’s physically isolated, though when he’s not so out of practice, he can choose to turn the volume down by picking one thing or person to focus on. He realizes that as Mulder’s been talking (both in his head and out loud), that’s exactly what has happened; the rest of the mental chatter in the train car has faded into the background, nothing more than a dull murmur at the edge of his mind. He’s grateful for the respite, but it also means he might miss something, if there’s someone or something on this train that wants to hurt them. He really should go back to listening.

But also he’s just so, so tired.

“How much longer until the next station?” he asks, wondering if maybe, since he hasn’t picked up on the presence of any threats on the journey so far, he can afford to let his guard down a little, at least until they stop again and more new people get on board.

Mulder shifts and digs into his pocket for the brochure they picked up at the station the last time they transferred, which has a timetable with all the stops on this rail line. “Hmm, forty-five minutes, give or take? Why?”

“Can you do me a favor and just think about something really boring for a little while? Like, I don’t know, FBI protocols or something?”

Mulder chuckles. “Can’t say I’ve ever really been much of an expert on those. But sure. You gonna try to nap?”

Gibson doubts actually falling asleep is possible, but he nods anyway. Even if he can just rest for a while, that will be good. Just in case, though…

“Make sure I’m awake when we get to the next station, okay? So I can listen to the new people getting on. Just in case.”

Mulder nods, and a jumble of emotion spills out of him: pity, guilt, gratitude, regret, and something else Gibson can’t immediately identify. There’s this sense of he’s way too young to have to have to carry all this and I should be the one protecting him, which makes Gibson want to roll his eyes. Mulder still seems to think of him as the 12 year-old kid he was when they met, but he’s 16 now, and he’s been living on his own for a good long while. He can more than take care of himself. But there it is again, that flash of something else, and then it’s like Mulder makes the conscious decision to stop and focus on that one feeling because it completely takes over. It’s warm and something like affection but not quite, and Gibson puzzles over it some more before realizing, finally, that it’s pride.

Mulder is proud of him.

It’s not something Gibson has felt directed toward him many times in his life, and it makes him squirm a little bit. But it’s also nice.

“Thanks,” he says quietly, and Mulder nods again.

“You got it, kid.”

All right, let’s see. Now, unfortunately for me, I’ve had to sit through more than a few training seminars on the application of Chapter 119 of Title 18 of the US Penal Code. Fortunately for you, this is just about the most boring subject on the face of the Earth, and as I happen to be cursed with an eidetic memory, I can recite the stupid thing chapter and verse. Consider this your first class ticket on an express train to Snoozeville.

Gibson can’t help but smile a little as he leans back in his seat and closes his eyes.

Chapter 119: Wire and Electronic Communications Interception and Interception of Oral Communications. Section 2510: Definitions. As used in this chapter-- (1) “wire communication” means any aural transfer made in whole or in part through the use of facilities for the transmission of communications by the aid of wire, cable, or other like connection between the point of origin and the point of reception…

The gentle rhythm of Mulder’s bland recitation melds perfectly with the steady rocking and the click-clack of the train, and in spite of his apprehensions, Gibson is asleep in minutes.

***

From the relative comfort of his office, the Shadow Man watches the grainy feed from the station platform’s surveillance camera. It’s not exactly riveting viewing; Agent Scully paces back and forth, having arrived at the station more than an hour before the train is due. But, this is what he does. He watches. All day long, day after day, he watches and he listens.

It’s a form of omniscience, being able to drop into the daily life of virtually anyone he may choose, whenever he needs to, observing unseen from the shadows. (Not the most imaginative moniker, this one these FBI agents have given him, but he supposes it does fit.) Tonight, all he needs is confirmation that Mulder really is going to get off that train.

Scully’s posture belies not only anticipation but also fear. Her guard is fully up, but she need not worry. Not tonight, anyway. Let them have their reunion. He will call tomorrow to arrange a meeting, and then he’ll eliminate Mulder once and for all. He has waited months for this opportunity; one more night is nothing.

That is, until something happens that tosses every one of his carefully-laid plans out the window: someone blacks out the camera lens.

Ah. So. His little employee has finally started to put the pieces together, has he? He supposes it was just a matter of time, but this is particularly inconvenient. Without eyes on the platform, he loses his advantage. Despite his claims to the contrary, it would absolutely be possible for Mulder and Scully to vanish into the wind, away from his view. He cannot let that happen.

He glances at the clock and scowls. It will be a close-run thing, getting to Alexandria from Bethesda before the train arrives, but the late hour and empty roads are on his side. He’s out the door and on the road in minutes, speeding southward.

Looks like Mulder and Scully won’t be getting their little reunion after all. But they’re the ones who decided not to play along. Now the plan has to change, and that’s fine by him. A predatory grin lurks at the corners of his mouth as he presses harder on the accelerator.

This ends tonight.

***

As the train begins to slow on approach to the station, Mulder’s leg bounces with both nerves and excitement. Beside him, Gibson is still and silent, all of his attention focused on the thoughts of the people outside.

Suddenly he gasps and grabs Mulder’s arm. “You can’t go out there.”

No, please, I’m so close...

“You can hear someone out there?” Mulder asks tightly.

“Yes! There’s a man, and he’s one of them. He wants to kill you.”

“Damnit…”

Scully said we’d be safe. Oh no, Scully…

“Is Scully in danger?”

Gibson’s eyes are wide. “I don’t know. He’s… he’s got a gun, and he’s not aiming for her, but he doesn’t care that she’s in the way.”

Mulder leaps to his feet.

“Wait! You can’t!”

The three pops of gunfire are muted from inside the train car, but Mulder hears them anyway. He hurtles forward to lean over Gibson and peer out the window. There’s movement on the platform, bodies on the ground, but it’s too dark and they’re too far away for him to make out any detail.

The train picks up speed again, and a ripple of confused chatter fills the car and drowns out the conductor’s words coming over the loudspeaker. Mulder’s insides give a desperate lurch as he catches just a glimpse of Scully’s stricken face through the window. She’s on her feet, thank god. She wasn’t shot.

For the span of a heartbeat, there she is in front of him, real and solid, not just a presence in his mind. But then she’s gone again as the train whisks him past, and he wants to cry out at the injustice of it. It’s not fair. I was so close. The months of separation feel like an iron band around his ribs.

But it’s clearly still not safe to go home. He knows she wouldn’t have brought him out of hiding unless she truly believed it would be okay, but apparently whoever led her to that belief was either wrong or lying. Will it ever be completely safe? Is this what the rest of his life is going to be, this hiding and running and always looking over his shoulder? Feeling like he’s in this limbo, merely existing while the rest of his life carries on thousands of miles away without him?

It’s not until Gibson grabs him by the arm and shakes him that he realizes the boy has been speaking. He blinks.

“What?”

“He’s on the train! The man who was on the platform. He knows you’re here, and he’s coming after you!”

Mulder snaps to attention. “Can you tell where he is?”

Gibson squeezes his eyes shut, visibly shaking from concentration or fear or both. “He’s… he’s three cars ahead, but under… hanging on to the underside. I think he was on the tracks and then grabbed on to the train as it went over him.” He opens his eyes again, wide. “We have to get out of here!”

Mulder’s stomach tightens as he does a quick mental calculation. While he didn’t plan for this exact scenario, he did look up several potential places he could try to go, in case it turned out that it wasn’t safe in D.C. after all. One of them is a quarry with significant iron deposits, just south of Alexandria. The tracks run near enough that he just might make it, might be able to lead the man there, if he can manage to avoid getting caught first.

Quickly, nonverbally, he rushes to convey his plan to Gibson. He’s got about two or three minutes to jump off the train and hope to god the man follows him. He jerks open the zipper on his backpack and pulls out one of the burner phones he bought, as well as a couple of hundred dollar bills, shoving both into his pocket.

“I hoped we wouldn’t have to use these,” he says aloud, “but this is exactly why I bought them. Stay on the train for two more stops, then find somewhere to lay low. Let me know where you are, and I’ll come find you. The number for this phone is on the paper in the backpack. Got it?”

“What if something happens to you?”

Call Scully, Mulder tells him telepathically. “But I’m hoping it won’t come to that,” he adds.

Gibson nods, and Mulder gives his shoulder a squeeze before hurrying down the aisle to the door. He moves quickly between cars, into and through the one in front of where they were sitting, and then the next. If Gibson’s right, the man should be there just ahead of him, underneath the very next car.

Mulder’s heart pounds as he turns the latch to open the exterior door. He certainly doesn’t want to get caught, but he also needs to make sure the man follows him into the quarry and doesn’t get on the train and go after Gibson. Outside the ground rushes past, and he steels himself for how much this next part is going to suck.

I am getting way too old for this shit.

He grips the handrail beside the door and leans forward as much as he dares.

“Hey asshole!” he shouts into the wind. “Looking for me?!”

Taking one last deep breath, he jumps.

***

Only when she is absolutely certain that the Shadow Man super-soldier isn’t coming after her does Scully stop running. She looks around wildly. Mulder has to still be here, somewhere.

“Mulder!”

It’s Arizona all over again, with her shouting his name into the night, hoping against hope for some answering call.

“Mulder!”

But as was the case in Arizona, she receives no response.

***

The roller coaster of emotion is too much for Gibson. His own feelings are magnified by what he hears in Mulder’s thoughts, a sort of resonating loop that spirals him toward despair and exhaustion.

So he sleeps. It is, mercifully, a dreamless slumber, and it cradles him all the way back to New Mexico. Mulder gently shakes him awake, and they wordlessly disembark, waiting amid the other passengers while Mulder’s motorcycle is unloaded. Once they retrieve it, it’s a quiet ride back to the trailer neither of them had hoped to see again, though once they crest the hill and finally come within sight of it, Gibson lets out a sigh of relief.

#x-files fanfic #TXF: Trust No 1 #mulderfic #scullyfic #gibson praise #msr #mulder on the run #a/n: lol at myself for thinking (way back in october) that i would get this finished and posted soon #ah well #here it is at long last :)#will 2021 be the year i finally finish this scenes-in-between project?#who knows! but that would be cool!#;)#hi friends #hope you are all doing well

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