#picturing them doing a little turn and twirling the flags around | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yoitsjay · 3 months

Text

The Universe Is Yours

Pairings: 10th Doctor x M!reader

Warning: teeny tiny bit if man angst

Summary: You followed The Doctor everywhere. And now he finally found you.

Word count: 1700

Aliens spanned all across the universe, so many different species and subspecies and on top of that there were new cultures and religions that came with the new species. You loved to study them all, every alien invasion that came to earth, any encounter you witnessed. You were always there, always taking pictures. But there was one similarity with all the encounters.. The Doctor.

You first heard of him a few years back when christmas santas and plastic mannequins tried to take over london, next event was when an alien ship crashed into the london river, and once again aliens tried to take over, which lead to harriet Jones becoming prime minister, leading to the torchwood institute and all its alien capturing tools. There were many more events that happened after, all with the doctor making his appearances and saving London and the world. The most recent was when Cybermen and Daleks tried to battle for earth, and the doctor sucked them all into the void like nothing had ever been there in the first place, minus all the destruction that was left behind. You were there for all of it, blending in as a worker with fake IDs, or just there taking pictures.

The more these events happened, the moreThe Doctor seemed to notice you, hiding in the shadows away from prying human eyes, but alas he wasn't human, and he noticed. Rose was gone, in the parallel universe, living her life, and the Doctor was alone… or was he really? Because wherever he went, you seemed to follow.

Today had been pretty boring it seemed, no alien attacks, no signs of the doctor, no panicking or screaming. London was… normal… for the first time in a long time, and that in its own way was strange to you. Currently you are in your apartment suite, hanging up your newly bought Canadian and UK flags in your window.

You were born in Canada but moved to London when you turned twenty, having finished school and with nothing else to do with life. Your parents died and your grandparents who had taken care of you your whole life had also passed away last year. So London and all its mysteries called to you. At first you were interested in ancient ruins and old civilizations, history and vikings and anglo-saxons all interested you. Then aliens came and it became your new hyperfixation.

You had a day job, because you obviously couldn't live in London with no job, so you worked as a delivery organizer in the warehouse, receiving all the packages that were delivered to your store, managing a forklift and shelves. It paid a pretty decent penny, enough to help you live of course.

Today was your day off however, and with nothing strange going on you decided to take your polaroid camera and take a walk through the park, and it's exactly what you did, taking nice pictures of nature, and of cute little squirrels and birds. Eventually you took a seat down on a bench in the park, sorting through the polaroids in your bag, smiling at the better pictures. A sigh left your lips, and you glanced to your side after noticing someone had sat down beside you, however you didn't really care all that much, until you took a double take, noticing a very familiar coat jacket, and pants… you looked up, eyes widening when you saw familiar short brown hair, and a beautiful pair of eyes…

He was sitting right beside you.

You put your camera in your satchel and you stood up abruptly, taking a step back as he smiled at you. "Hello!" he exclaimed. And with that you turned and ran, gripping the strap of your bag as your legs carried you through the park. Some people gave you strange looks, and when you looked back for just a moment you tripped on a stick on the path and went tumbling down.

However, before you could hit the ground you felt two arms wrap around you and twirl you around, holding you close for just a moment to make sure you were stable. However as you were spun around your camera had managed to fall from your bag, and it smashed into a dozen pieces on the ground.

You pushed the stranger away, falling to your knees as you hastily gathered all the pieces, your breath catching in your throat as a steady stream of tears escaped your eyes, and finally you let out a choked sob, holding all the broken polaroid pieces in your hands. 'man up' you thought to yourself, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. "men shouldn't cry, stupid boy" you whispered, leaning back on your legs as you stared up at the sky,

You then felt a hand on your shoulder, and slowly the doctor came into view again. "Hey, don't run away this time… I only want to talk." He said softly, grabbing the camera pieces from your hands and from the ground. "Hmm yes… yes! What a brilliant piece of technology! come back to the TARDIS with me and I'll fix your camera right up for you!" He exclaimed, shoving all the pieces into your bag before hoisting you up onto your feet. "What? No way Doctor… Doctor Who?! I'm not coming into your tiny police box so you can kidnap me and dump me on some- some other world! no way!" You exclaimed, taking a step back as the doctor extended a hand to you.

"Oh come on! I don't know you but you clearly seem to know me.. Why not take the chance to talk to The Doctor! it'll be funnnn~" he sang out, seeing the conflict spread across your face.

With a deep breath, you reluctantly grabbed his hand, however as soon as you did he immediately dragged you along as he ran through the park, to the blue police box you have seen so many times and taken so many pictures of. And when he opened the door, and pulled you inside… it was like nothing you had ever seen before… "Woah… what…" you trailed off, and your immediate thought was to take pictures, but without your camera… you couldn't.

You turned back to the doctor, and he was smiling widely, gesturing for you to give him the camera pieces… and so you did. watching as he laid them all across his console, and with some strange looking screwdriver he pieced together your camera, and added a few things too it seemed, and within the hour he handed your camera back to you, smiling brightly still. "So? what do you think?" he asked, and you studied your camera intensely, glancing up at him with a curious look.

"What did you add to it?" you asked, and it looked like his smile grew even wider upon hearing your question. "well! I added a few things that might be invented a few years from now, but oh well i'll let you have something a little nicer. But your pictures will become much cleaner and easier to see, no flashback in pictures. unlimited polaroid so you never need to buy cartridges again! and, there's a UV light on it, and an infrared camera setting, and night vision! just in case." he explained, watching as your eyes went wider the more he explained what he had added to your camera.

You gently set it down on the center console, looking up at him before abruptly pulling him into a tight hug. "Thank you Doctor." You whispered, pulling back with a nervous expression.

"It's no problem really… and whoever told you that men can't cry, is stupid and wrong." The doctor stated, which made you smile a bit more. However, before you could say anything, he spoke up again. "So now I did something for you… so you can do something for me. Tell me when you first saw me, and started taking pictures. Because I see you everywhere I am." He started, taking a step closer to you. Your eyes went wide, and you took a step back in response. "I mean it started a few years ago I guess?When you looked… different? It started when the plastic mannequins attacked london." You answered, and he hummed in response.

"You dont sound like you're from London… Where are you from?" He asked, and you smiled. "Canada! proud and free, i moved to london after my grandparents died, i have no family, just my camera." You answered, a sad tone to your voice as you explained this to him.

The doctor took a step back from you, and you relaxed, grabbing your modified camera, putting it in your bag with a sigh. "Well… why are you following me?" he asked finally,and you beamed in response, pulling out all the photos and files you carried with you. "Ever since I saw you there has been alien activity everywhere! all across the world. I used to be interested in old structures, and viking history… But ever since you came around i've been hyper fixated on you i guess? and your adventures… It's just all so fascinating." You explained, seeing him smile at your response.

'Well then… would you like to see my adventures first hand? you could come with me on all my adventures…" He suggested.

he was giving you the option to explore galaxies, new worlds, you could meet aliens and study cultures with the doctor up close instead of watching them from afar… You had no family, no animals, and nothing at home… but The doctor was offering you the world.

You saw him extend his hand to you, and without a second thought you grabbed it. "i need to stop at my apartment, and pack some money and clothes… But yes Doctor… I'll come with you." You said softly, and he pulled you towards the console and told you which buttons to press, and when he got the location of your home he took you there, appearing in the spare bedroom of your apartment.

This? being shown the universe? with such a hot man too? You couldn't have it any other way.

#fanfiction #tenth doctor #tenth doctor x male reader #male reader #tenth doctor x reader #doctor who

32 notes · View notes

queen-of-seventeen · 2 years

Text

Abandon who you love, love with abandon

Hello, back with a new au and something that is plotted and thus will probably be finished. It’s an andreil hans and gretel au so I love it and hope you do to.

You can also read it on ao3

Andrew could feel a pair of eyes on him. They burned at his back but he refused to turn around. He rolled his shoulders and typed harder at his keyboard. He didn’t know what Renee and Wymack wanted from him but they’d been staring ever since he entered the office and it was getting tiresome. As tiresome as anything could get if it happened from eight am to three in the afternoon.

He wasn’t going to say anything though. He was above it.

The desk at which the blond sat was set up with a wall of monitors and the newest military-grade computer. Nothing but the best for the FBI. Even for their underfunded star squad. That’s what Wymack got for picking from the people who barely scraped through the psych test. Or failed it as Andrew had.

Yet here he sat.

His attention got caught by an irregularity in the code in front of him. Something was up in the Nathan Wesninski case. Andrew’s team had been put on the case after everyone else failed to pin anything on Wesninski but the FBI knew something was up. They’d known for almost as long as Andrew had been alive. Two years ago however Nathan Wesninski and three of his closest friends disappeared off the face of the earth. Or so they thought because Andrew had just found one of them.

He and Renee, the other tech nerd, had been working on this code for ages to flag bank accounts and passports that looked just a little too much like Wesninski’s inner circle.

“Andrew,” Renee said. She pushed off on the floor and rolled towards him. “Wymack asked me to talk to you.”

“And he thinks that’s going to work?” Andrew’s fingers flew across the keys. Passport, name of M. R. Mero. Malcolm Romero. Two clicks later Andrew had his picture up on the screen. Different eye colors but the same man. Mole above his right eye and shaving scar on his cheek. He couldn’t be the smartest or Wesninski wouldn’t have been able to avoid the FBI for so long.

“You’re listening to me now aren’t you.”

“I don’t know, were you talking about the scheduled zombie apocalypse for October.”

“Andrew…” Renee tried placing a hand on his but he pulled away.

“Renee, I told you not to do that.”

She sighed and twirled in her chair. It was a nasty habit she’d picked up from her girlfriend. “Wymack says you need to start pulling your weight on the Wesninski case. He wants to know what you want in return.”

“He’s already paying me isn’t he?” Andrew Switched screens and logged into a different database to start checking bank accounts. He plugged in the information and waited.

“Then why aren’t you doing the work?” David Wymack walked into the dark room. “Would it kill the two of you to open a window from time to time?”

“There aren’t any windows in here,” Renee said. Andrew heard a hair tie snap against her wrist meaning she put up her hair. “There have never been rooms.”

Wymack grumbled. “I’m assuming that Andrew hasn't put in any effort into the Wesninski case yet.”

“Not on my account,” Renee said.

Andrew rolled his eyes and the screen finally loaded up. New bank account for an Australian bank accounts for Mr. M. R. Mero. Gotcha.

He let Renee and Wymack talk amongst themselves as he checked the information a final time and flagged the accounts. He’d let them know if anything came of it.

Steps echoed around the room as Wymack walked to Andrew and dropped a thin Manila file in front of him. “I think I found your challenge.”

Andrew looked from the file to Wymack before pushing it off to the side. “I didn’t ask for a challenge.”

“You also didn’t ask for a job, you midget but here you are. Open the file.”

Andrew rubbed his face with both hands. He’d been at work for twelve hours. Seven am to pm was too long when his best friend insisted on drinking during the evenings.

He pushed the file to the side again and waited for Wymack to leave the room, he took Renee with him. Andrew heard their voices disappear down the hall before snatching at the file. Unwind the thread, open the folder, flick, flick, flick with his thumb. Three pages. Three pages of information. His eyes caught on a rectangular note paper clipped to the bottom of the first page. Andrew nudged it loose and turned it around.

It was a picture. A family one. After three years of working in the Fox squad, Andrew knew Nathan Wesninski’s face better than his own, even the young version, but it wasn’t even showing. Next to him was a woman, short, with light brown hair. On Nathan’s shoulders was a small boy. His face wasn’t showing but Andrew knew that must be Nathaniel. According to the note on the back about eight years old.

The picture seemed to be taken during a good moment, with the wife and Nathan smiling but Andrew wouldn’t have become FBI if he didn’t notice the little details. The bruises peeking beneath sleeves and the tension around the woman’s eyes.

Andrew put the picture to the side and read the rest of the file.

Andrew hadn’t felt many strong feelings since he was little but hatred for Nathan Wesninski was steadily burning a hole through his chest. The brutal ways Nathaniel and his mother had been abused were detailed on the three pages in the file. Andrew felt sick.

His fingers didn’t shake as he put the file back together and shoved it to the side of his desk. He didn’t pace his office as he waited for the computer to light up with another hit on Romero. He didn’t do anything. He stared at the screen without seeing and watched the code shift as the program rolled on another screen.

“Nathaniel Wesninski.” The name rolled off his tongue. It felt a bit sour. Like milk gone bad. “For all, I know you’re dead on some beach as well.”

“That’s what I need you to find out,” Wymack said gruffly.

Andrew swiveled in his chair and found his boss standing at the door opening. Wymack walked over and sat on a chair at the small table Renee and Andrew used to collect printouts. “Why me? Renee can do this? Another department could just as well track a dead man.”

Because it’s a dead end. Andrew crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “I don’t want to do it.”

“You will,” Wymack said. “Because you read that file and you want that eight-year-old boy to have justice just as much as I do.”

“You want me to find a murder victim? I’m an IT guy.”

Wymack shook his head. “I want you to find a twenty-five-year-old with a penchant for stealing his father’s money. I’ve seen the stuff Renee and you code. You’re the only one that can do this.”

Andrew could but that didn’t mean he wanted to. Nathaniel would have had years to figure out how to work around tracking. Every idiot with access to google could find out how to avoid getting tracked online. But fuck it he was interested. Nathaniel’s case hit a personal spot and it might help him to track down Nathan as well.

“Fine,” Andrew said and turned back to his monitors. “But you’re bargaining with Chuck to get Renee and me an office with windows next time you see him.”

--00--

Rule number one of stealing is to not look conspicuous. Neil’s mother had taught him that when he was ten and left the supermarket by himself for the first time without paying for the groceries hidden in his school bag. He hadn’t gotten caught. Now fourteen years later Neil had just walked out of an old-fashioned second-hand computer store with a gaming laptop that had been there for cleaning. Neil Josten didn’t feel remorse about stealing it. After all, he was doing it for the greater good.

His own bank account.

Neil ran a hand through his brown curls and walked into a cafe two blocks down. Not close enough to easily be found but also close enough that when he left the laptop in the cafe it may someday return to the rightful owner. Or it would just get stolen by somebody else. That wasn’t Neil’s problem.

The cafe he’d picked out earlier was slightly crowded. Just enough for him to blend in but also to have a table to himself.

In all truth 'Don't be conspicuous' hadn't been his mother's first rule. There were many rules she'd imprinted upon his brain before she died on some sandy beach in America. Neil had never cared for the country he'd been born in and even less so now after his mother's death.

America was the country his father lived in. It was the country a previous version of Neil had been born in and spent all ten years of his short, miserable life. Then Neil left and saw the world. It wasn't any less miserable but it meant his life span was at least a little longer.

Neil walked up to the counter and ordered himself a sandwich and a black coffee. Don't be conspicuous. He waited in line, he told the girl to add a dollar or two to his tip and he spoke in the Australian accent he'd perfected over the past four months.

Four months of living all over Australia. Four weeks of driving along the East Coast. Four days of renting a room in Sidney with the money he'd pilfered from his father's contacts. It wasn't a grand life. It certainly wasn't the life of a pro athlete that he'd dreamt of as a kid but at twenty-five, he was damned proud he was still breathing every single day.

Neil collected his food and drink and walked towards an empty table in a back corner. He sat with his back to the wall and checked if nobody would be able to see his screen.

Drink, food, walls, privacy.

It only took Neil three minutes to crack the code on the laptop. A simple override code he'd learned in some IT class he'd followed at a German college. But now the real work. He took the driver out of his bag and connected the cables. A simple code scrolled across the screen and began downloading several programs onto the borrowed laptop.

The computer took long enough that Neil got to finish his sandwich. The programs opened in front of him and he got to work. Over the years he’d gotten accustomed to finding the hidden bank accounts of his father’s partners and his father. Nathan had been smart but there was always a telltale mark that something was his. Like a brand mark.

Neil idly rubbed his shoulder.

It took him about an hour to find the correct account and another two to hack in and transfer the money towards three separate accounts. Neil’s emergency account on the Cayman islands, one in the Netherlands, and finally a couple hundred towards a new bank account at the Bank of Australia. Courtesy of Neil Josten and his falsified passports and driver’s licenses. He’d pull the money out of there tomorrow at the bank. There was no way a machine was going to have all that money for him to cash out.

And cash was needed. He was already leaving too much of a trail by using a smartphone and stolen laptops. Someone only had to get to his level and they’d be able to track the breadcrumbs from account to account until they found him.

But twenty-five wasn’t enough. Neil wanted to get old. He only hoped his father would die before then.

He ordered a final coffee to go before starting to meticulously delete every file he just downloaded onto the laptop and made sure to clean the trash can. He logged out of the account and logged in with obviously wrong passwords a couple of times before closing the thing.

Neil opened his bag and pretended to put in the laptop. He placed it on the chair beside him and finished cleaning up his stuff. He got up and grabbed the coffee cup. Still warm. He raised a hand at the barista who’d helped him and walked out of the store.

He rubbed his eyes. The brown contacts were bothering him. He walked towards the harbor and sat down on one of the benches facing the Opera house.

Neil fumbled as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He was running out but he didn’t want to break into his emergency cash in case he needed to take a plane somewhere else. It took a couple of inhales before the cigarette lit. He took one more breath to keep it burning before watching as he let it burn down to the filter. He didn’t want the nicotine; he wanted the acrid smoke that reminded him of his mother.

He ground it against the bench to stop the flame and pulled his phone from his pocket. It still felt dangerous and with nobody to call it felt useless but the internet was the easiest way to gather information about his father. Within five minutes he was looking at the New York Times.

A new team was put on his father's case. New people digging into his past and coming across the origins of Neil Josten. Neil shivered and got some weird looks from people passing by. He was bundled up enough for late winter in Australia but knowing someone else could come knocking on his door was a familiar nightmare clawing on the solid walls of his mind.

He stood up and grabbed his bag. He’d go to the bank first thing tomorrow. Right now he needed to pack his stuff. He needed to get a new passport. He wouldn’t sit here like a duck to be shot but he wouldn’t run for a while longer. Neil Josten was as cold a trail as any.

The door to his apartment was swinging open before he’d finished his plans. He’d move in two weeks. That was enough time to get his papers ready and get the money to buy his ticket in cash. He’d be untraceable on some other continent. He’d be running but at least he’d be free.

#hans and gretel au #noa writes tfc #noa writes aftg #aftg fanfic #aftg #all for the game #andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten #renee walker #david wymack #coach wymack #fbi au #fanfic #all for the game fic

2 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

hi! if requests are open for bucky, i like the concept of him being unsure of himself with reader (not a superhero/avenger, maybe just a mutual friend) and pining after them compared to how easy it was to get dates in the 40s. thank you!

tfatws revived my love for bucky im not ashamed

A/N: tfatws has definitely done the same for me! no shame whatsoever!

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: none

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

You tore your gaze off of the television before you turned to look at Bucky. His blue eyed stare was trained on you, intense and unwavering. Sometimes it had managed to unnerve you, but you’d gotten used to it over the year you’d known him. He was more than just silent...he was calculating, but it never felt wrong. Waving your hand in front of his face you made a small sound to get his attention.

“Bucky?” you whispered his name softly and that seemed to snap him back into attention as he opened and closed his mouth a few times. Even in the dim lighting of the room you could see that a warm flush of red had crept up in his cheeks, “everything alright?”

“Y-yeah,” he shook his head, more at himself than anything else, a self-annoyed look crossing his features, “spaced out for a minute. What were you saying?”

“I wasn’t saying anything,” you couldn’t help but laugh at him, watching his features soften when he realized you weren’t going to chastise him for zoning out, “I for one was watching the movie, which is more than I can say for you - you should love the Hobbit if you actually read the book when it first came out. And these movies are actually good. Pay attention, Bucky!”

You grabbed one of the pillows off of your couch and lobbed it at his head; but he was quicker, reflexes still sharp and honed after all this time. The corners of his mouth pulled into a smirk as he held the pillow before determining whether or not to throw it back at you. Immediately sensing what he was doing, you shook your head and jumped up, ducking behind the couch.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart, why are you hiding?” you could practically hear the smirk in his voice as you peeked up at him. The nickname rolled easily off his tongue as it caused a shudder to run down your spine. You knew it meant nothing, that it was just something he tended to call people; it was definitely just a thing. It was nothing particularly about you or targeted at you but you couldn’t help but pause. You knew that you wouldn’t have minded if he called you that intentionally. But that could never, ever happen. This was Bucky after all and you were just...you.

“I know your game, Barnes,” you grinned at him, deciding to let the nickname slide, “I’ll call it a truce and we can go to your favorite place to get some dinner. I’ll pay! I’m waving my proverbial white flag.”

“Now there’s an offer I can’t refuse,” he set the pillow back down on the couch as he stood up and raised his hands in surrender. Slowly you raised to your full height, but kept a wary eye on your best friend, “I keep my promises, you know that.”

“Fine,” you agreed as you grinned at him. Bucky’s breath hitched in his throat as he looked you over and he felt his knees go weak momentarily. He could stare at your smile for hours, “get your jacket and let’s go old man.”

He scoffed in jest as you grabbed your shoulders and jacket off the coat rock and motioned for him to follow, “I’m not that old-”

“106? Isn’t that old?” you raised an eyebrow, barely able to contain your giggles as he rolled his eyes dramatically, “just kidding, Bucky. You know I just love teasing you.”

“I am in my 30s,..technically, thank you very much,” he insisted as he slipped on his shoes and you handed him the leather jacket, “don’t push your luck, kid.”

“See,” you grabbed the keys and he opened the door, ushering you out with a hand on the small of your back, “I swear Bucky Barnes, you’ve been an old man since you were a kid. Now let’s go! There’s pancakes with my name on them waiting.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Dinner with Bucky was easy...then again, everything with Bucky was easy. Every time you were with him, things just felt natural and normal, conversation and everything flowed freely. You’d met Bucky completely by chance, running into him, quite literally, on the street as you walked out of your favorite coffee shop and proceeded to spill coffee over both of you. He’d been apologetic, claiming it was his fault, but you’d been insistent that it was yours. One thing had led to another and soon enough you became inseparable friends.

Much to his surprise, and delight, you’d never treated Bucky as anything but...Bucky. That’s how you’d met him and that’s all he was to you. Bucky. Of course, he was much more than a friend, at least in your mind, but you weren’t about to divulge that little piece of information. At least not yet. Maybe one day...or not. Probably not. No. You weren’t about to make a fool out of yourself and confess your feelings for a man that saw you as nothing but a friend.

Bucky, always alert and cunning, had noticed you’d become quiet throughout dinner as you both ate in silence. Normally he wouldn’t question it, but he knew your tells and could easily read you by this point and knew that something was up.

“What?” he gently nudged your foot with his and you snapped back into attention as you looked at him, “you’re awfully deep in thought for someone that just wanted some pancakes.”

“It’s nothing,” you insisted nervously, swallowing your bite down and clearing your throat, “just...tired?”

“Mhmm,” he wasn’t going to push you, know you’d come around eventually, “whatever you say, sweetheart.”

There it was again, and you felt a warmth flush over your face as you focused your attention on the syrupy mess on your plate. It was silent for a few more minutes before you noticed a few women sitting at the diner’s counter, giggling among themselves as they cast longing glances at Bucky. Something in your stomach twisted and your heart constricted. Of course they were looking at him, women often did. And you couldn’t blame them; Bucky was handsome in almost every way, and you yearned after him as well. But unlike most other people, you weren’t about to be so obvious about it.

“Looks like you have a little fanclub,” you murmured softly under your breath as you lightly motioned towards them women. Bucky slyly followed your gaze and studied the newcomers and huffed in annoyance. He abhorred any sort of extra attention, especially when it came from people that only liked him because of his looks. Besides that, it often didn’t last terribly long; usually people realized who he was - used to be - and that scared them right off.

“They’ll leave soon enough,” he shrugged them off before turning his attention back to you, “besides, I-I’m not interested. It’s not like it used to be…”

“Back when?” you quickly snorted in amusement as he jokingly glared at you, “back in your day? I bet you had them all over you then too.”

“Well, it certainly was easier,” he admitted as he played with the straw in his almost empty milkshake, “nowadays people are harder to read. They all either want one thing, or they just stick around until they find someone else. It’s not worth it...and honestly, now one has caught my eye.”

“No one?” you asked as you pushed your last bite around the plate, letting the fluffy pancake soak up the syrup, “I find that hard to believe, even for you, Buck. Everyone has someone they’re interested in.”

“Huh,” he mused as drained the last of the milkshake, “well then, is there someone that has captured your interest?”

“I...no, not really,” you lied, hoping he wouldn’t pick up on the lie. Instead he immediately made a sound of small disbelief; you should haven’t even bothered to try and lie to him. He could see right through you, “there’s nobody.”

“I thought you said everyone has someone that they’re interested in?” oh yeah, he definitely wasn’t going to let this go at all.

“Except me.”

“I find that doubtful.”

“What about you then, Bucky Barnes?” you decided to deflect by throwing the question right back at him, “has anyone captured your interest?”

Bucky paused for a moment, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he mulled over his next words carefully, “yes. There is someone.”

“O-oh,” you stammered as his gaze shifted back to you, blue eyes keenly studied your features, “you gonna tell me who it is?”

“Well,” he started slowly, tapping his fingers on the table as he leaned towards, "there is someone, but I don't know if she knows or thinks of me as more than a friend, but god, I hope she does. She's been my friend for a while now and I kind of want to ask her on a date, a proper date, but don't quite know how."

"Do you...do you think she could feel the same about you?" butterflies erupted in your stomach as you tried to calm the rapid beating of your heart. Surely he couldn't mean you. But then...why was a light flush of pink in his cheeks? Why was he watching you so intently?

"I don't know," he confessed with a light shrug as he sat back in the booth, an arm extended over the back, the picture of ease, "sometimes I think she might, but I don't want to think she does and mess anything up. I'd rather keep her as a friend than lose her."

"I guess you won't know unless you ask her…" you were positive that he could hear your heart beating rapidly, "you never know until you try. I have a feeling she won't turn you down if you ask...just a hunch…"

"Hmm…" a smile, dazzling and brilliant, grazed his features, "well then sweet-"

"Excuse me," one of the girls from the counter had approached your table and was leaning into Bucky, with her back to you. She was twirling her hair around her finger as she offered him her most dazzling smile. She was definitely beautiful and you really had nothing to base your annoyance off of, but she rubbed you the wrong way, "I was just wondering if you'd-"

"Hi, excuse me?" you couldn't help yourself as you gently tapped her arm. Bucky raised an eyebrow as she gave her a surprised look on her face, "I don't want to interrupt but he's mine. And if you don't mind...we're on a date."

"O-oh," her eyes widened as she looked between you and Bucky, who was currently sporting the most shit eating grin, "I didn't know. Sorry…"

She scurried back to her friends as you looked back down at your plate. Bucky cleared his throat as he leaned in, hardly believing what had happened. You could feel his curious blue eyes on you, searing and questioning.

"So she feels the same way or she's a good liar," he said softly as you chanced a glance, biting on your lip, "I'm yours, huh?"

"Shut up," you groaned, "it was to get her away from you, so you're welcome."

"Mhmm…" god that smile made you want to melt.

"Bucky!"

"Thank you," he bowed his head slightly, "what are you doing tomorrow night?"

"Nothing...why?"

"Can I take you on a date?" he asked as you looked at him in surprise, wide doe eyes meeting his, "a proper date?"

"I...yeah, Bucky. I'd like that a lot," you agreed softly, "see...I told you she won't turn you down."

"Guess you were right," he was causal, but inside his heart was fit to burst as he reached across the table and gently put his hand on top of yours, "I'm already hers, but she's my girl too."

Yeah. You could definitely get used to that.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Permanent Taglist: @secretsweetscollectionblog @sheridans-dynamos @queenbbarnes @persephonesnebula @ah-callie @blushingwueen @thisis-theway @rosetophighlander @rae-gar-targaryen @hiscyarika @readsalot73 @huliabitch @ollyoxenfrees @coffeeandtodd @beepbeepsephy @scarlettwitcher @nerdyknightwritersblog @choicesarcade @arrowswithwifi @everythingaboutnothingstuff @suckerfor-fanfics @bestintheparsec @javihoney @aeryntheofficial @hail-doodles @engineeredfiction @asgardianvamp21 @keithseabrook27 @karmezii @dearspacepirates @thatsuitlooksgoodonyou @paintballkid711 @mrpascals @lv7867 @artsymaddie @gooddaykate @rosiefridayrogersunday @heyitmelexie @criminalmind1927 @justanotherblonde23 @coni-martina @thewayofthemandalorian @phoenixhalliwell @lucifer @cosmoschick @kochamcie @linkpk88 @leaiorganas @nikkixostan @haley-the-comet @chibi-yuki @computeringturtle @4ng3lf43 @intu-witch-tion @wondergal2001 @gingerbreadandpaper @willowtheewisp @milkxxkookies @smollpinkgirl @zukoyonce @boomtownboy @velia27 @discowitchyy

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #tfatws #bb imagine

664 notes · View notes

phykios · 2 years

Text

If I Were A Blackbird, part 3 [co-written with @darkmagyk] [read on ao3]

[ID: Picture of an attractive man with brown skin and black hair in front of a blue ocean. Only his face and hand are visible. His hand holds up his index and middle fingers in a peace sign, his face is hidden behind a pair of navy sunglasses with the letters USA printed across the bridge

Instagram caption: per_sea_jackson: Officially in Mérida. Let the games begin.]

Percy had been all over the world: for sailing, for Instagram, for the fact that Luke loved to travel and didn’t have many friends to travel with. Percy hated flying every single time, and was known to spend extra time on a boat to avoid it if he could, but he loved getting there. Being new places and exploring them.

Growing up in Westport had in many ways been a dream. The big white house with the perfect backyard, Luke and his mom and May. His mom used to talk about good schools and safe neighborhoods, and all the other things people moved to Connecticut for.

But being the only kid in class who wasn’t white, there had been a lot of nasty, mean comments about his mom being a maid (which wasn’t true). And then, in middle school, he started excelling in all the WASP sports: sailing and crew and fencing and horseback riding of all things, all while Luke had gone off to college, after a decade of Luke having his back. It had given him a rather homogeneous view of the world, and not a pleasant one, one that Yale, despite its best efforts, did not really do much to dispel. But the world was vast and strange and amazing, as wide and weird as his own insane family tree. Percy was reminded of that every time he stepped off a plane, or his preferred boat.

It was a crazy, comforting thought.

“Percy! Hey!”

And speaking of family…

“Hazel!” Percy wrapped his cousin up in a big hug, twirling her around, blocking traffic in the middle of the Mérida airport. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

“There was an announcement and everything,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him. “I guess dressage isn’t sexy enough to make the news.”

His dear cousin Hazel was one of the youngest equestrian athletes to ever be on Team USA. The two of them had bonded near-instantly over their shared affinity for horses and gently bullying Nico to eat more, and no one had been happier than Percy when she had been accepted onto the Olympic team. She had originally only been an alternate, and wasn’t sure if she would be coming, but already her presence was combating some of his nerves. It was going to be so amazing to have someone here in his corner from the beginning.

“Do you need help with your suitcase?” he asked.

She shook her head. “It’s all taken care of.”

Percy whistled. “The di Angelo express, huh?”

“You know it!” She took his hand. “Come on, let’s go get a cab to the village.”

They cruised through the city, Percy pressing his face to the window to better see the white buildings, the heat rising off of the tarmac, and the international flags fluttering against the clear blue sky.

Mérida. Was. Amazing.

And hot. Goddamn.

Even just taking a quick stroll through the center of town, he was absolutely drenched in sweat. Ducking into a local shop down the road from the Monumento A La Patria (and holy crap, they were going to have to come back and see that at night!) for a bite to eat, Percy collapsed into his seat, fanning himself furiously with one of the tourist pamphlets Hazel had swiped for them. He was even seriously considering taking his shirt off.

“We should definitely check out the cenotes,” Hazel said, reading her own brochure, turning the page to him. “Just look at this water!”

“How the hell are you not a puddle right now?” Percy asked, panting.

She made a face at him. “I’m from New Orleans. Not my fault you can’t handle a little humidity.”

“This is not humidity! This is–this is torture!”

She snorted, looking out at the passers-by through a line of brightly colored shrubbery. “Damn yankee,” she muttered.

Percy’s eyes narrowed. “You take that back right now.”

“I’ll consider it if you buy me lunch.”

He grumbled goodnaturedly, already pulling out his phone. “You’re lucky you’re so damn cute.”

“That’s me,” she said. “The cutest cousin.”

“Undoubtedly. How is Nico, by the way?”

She smiled, taking a drink from her water bottle. “You’re the one who bullied him into going to your alma mater for school. Shouldn’t you know?”

“That was Luke,” Percy pointed out. “And it's summer. Didn’t you guys just get back from that sibling trip to the homeland? And I have to be honest, I have no idea what he did when you guys got back from Italy.”

Hazel’s nod meant he did actually know what Percy was talking about. “He’s well. Dad has him running ragged with work, but he was able to take some time to get me here.”

“And that was the first time he saw sunlight in months, I’m sure.”

Gently, she laughed. “You’re not wrong. But you know I have almost as much trouble with flying as you do. And I don’t even have a boat as an out. So I have to rely on fatherly and fraternal support.”

“You could have ridden your horse here.”

“Ha ha.”

After Luke, Percy was sure he had had his fill of cousins. But after they had discovered Nico and his sister in Las Vegas during a truly insane road trip when Percy was a kid, Percy had found he quite liked the little nerd, weird and broody and emo as he may be. And then, a few years later, when Nico had called them up in a panic, awkwardly explaining over the phone how he had accidentally unearthed his half-sister, Percy and Luke were honorbound to welcome her into the family.

Well, Percy was. Luke, preoccupied with grad school, had blown him off a little–but not before Percy had guilted him into sending enough money for food and transportation. Stingy bastard.

He hadn’t seen her since November, when she and Nico had come for Thanksgiving. She was a junior at Tulane (a choice Luke took pretty personally because getting family members into Yale was his second favorite hobby after crypto) and she and Nico had gone on some backpacking trip through California during Christmas break, and then to Italy at the start of the summer. An ironic juxtaposition, as Luke had taken the Jackson-Blofis-Castellan family to Paris for Christmas, and Percy had spent early summer training in California. It was so good to see her now.

Hazel wiped her mouth, gently setting down her napkin. “So. Percy.”

Percy swallowed. “Come on.”

“You’re not getting out of this conversation.”

“What, is my mom paying you to talk to me?”

She raised her hands, a placating gesture. “She just wants to make sure you’re doing okay. We all do.”

“Well, I haven’t exactly had time for dating,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Training and such.”

“You can’t tell me you spend that much time training.”

He huffed. “I spend the perfect amount of time training!”

She gave him a long, thoughtful look, then bites into a plantain chip. “What you do spend is too much time with Luke.”

“I don’t think that’s the dig you want it to be.”

Hazel sighed, a deep, long, drawn out thing. It reminded him of his mother. That was both a compliment and a pretty harsh take down. “Percy, I love Luke. He’s the douchey, white, older cousin I never wanted but will still send me money any time I ask. And you could certainly do worse for friends.”

Percy frowned. “A hell of a lot worse,” he said. “We’ve been through a lot.” Luke had saved his life, on more than one occasion. He bore the scar to prove it. Letting go of that loyalty was hard.

“I know,” she said, placating. “I’m not saying ditch him. He’s always going to be your cousin and your big brother. But I think I have a much stronger reason to hang out with just Nico than you have to hang out with just Luke. Even I managed to put myself out there a little bit. You could stand to expand your social circle a little. Include some other boys, maybe. Or girls.”

“I’ve met girls!” He was not pouting, but you wouldn’t know it from the way Hazel snorted at him.

“Uh huh.”

“I have! I even have girl friends!”

“Such as?” She rested her head on her hand, eyes glinting at him.

Mentally, he flipped through his rolodex. “There’s you. Obviously.”

“I’m touched.”

“Thalia. Um, Rachel. Uh…” Oh, come on. He has to have more female friends than that!

“So,” said Hazel, not even trying to hide her grin, “your three closest female friends are your two cousins and your high school almost girlfriend?”

Percy groaned, tilting his head back. “Okay, okay. Point taken.”

“Just think about it, okay?” She touched his hand, squeezing his fingers. “You’re such a wonderful guy. And you know I love Luke. I really do, but come on. There's a reason that he’s always begging me and Nico and you to come and hang out. It’s because otherwise his only social activity is hanging out with Estelle–a seven year old–pining after your mom,” that earned her a light punch in the shoulder, “or going clubbing with his co-workers. And he only hangs out with his co-workers to run crypto schemes.”

He squeezed back. “You know he knows those are cons, and just does it because he thinks the people he works with are assholes, right?” Luke and Hazel’s speculation arguments were legendary. “He doesn’t actually keep any of his money in crypto. Or any of ours. You keep way more money in gold.”

“You know that’s not the point,” Hazel said, “and gold is an old fashioned, stable speculation.”

“For the record, I do meet girls.” Automatically his hand went to his pocket, slipping out his phone to see if he had a new text message. He didn’t, but there was no harm in checking. “There was this girl I met just before I left New York.”

She leant in. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” A quick flash of golden hair and silver eyes crossed his memory, accompanied by a bright, sparkling laugh, like champagne.

“Any details you want to share?”

“She was an architect,” he said, “and she was beautiful.” There were plenty more details than that, but the gulf between ‘want to share’ and ‘going to share’ was wider than the distance from here to New Orleans. It had only been once, anyway: one night and one text. Hardly met the criteria for an ongoing relationship.

But still. There was something about that girl that he couldn’t shake, even a few days later.

“You’re smiling,” Hazel said.

“Hm?”

“You’re full-on grinning.”

He was, to his shock. He could feel it in his cheeks. “So? I like smiling.”

“You? Mr. Resting Bitch Face?”

“Me,” he replied, lightly kicking her ankle under the table. “I’m only smiling because you’re here, anyway.”

Hazel beamed at him, and he couldn’t help but match it, tooth for tooth. “Then you better start practicing when I’m not around. You’re going to need that smile for the podium.”

Lifting his water, he saluted her, and they knocked their plastic bottles together. “I’ll drink to that.”

***

The only thing worse than a fancy state dinner was a fancy state dinner that was ostensibly for her but wasn’t actually about her at all.

It was supposedly her birthday dinner, but you wouldn’t know it by the food. Or the company. The last thing she ever wanted on a day meant to celebrate her was to be stuck between her stepmother and her brothers, disinterestedly twirling pasta around in their forks while her uncle stood at the head of the idiotically long table, speaking boring platitudes about history and pride and the future of the family.

The food was fine, but nothing that counted as a particular favorite. The salad course didn’t even have olives. But she ate it gratefully, as she was meant to.

There were two hundred people here, and she knew about twelve, and liked and was liked in turn by maybe two of them. And Magnus was on the other side of the room, so unfortunately, he wasn’t fast enough to claim her for the first dance.

At least it was just a waltz. The dancing was vestigial anyway, a holdover from a more formal time. Now Annabeth was light on her feet when she needed to be, but dancing was not one of those times she needed to be. Her partner, some higher-ranking member of parliament, politely pursed his lips as she stepped on his foot, and she could feel the back of her neck heat up, exposed to the room by her updo.

Just focus, she thought to herself, biting the back of her tongue. One, two, three, one, two three…

Every eye was on her as she moved about the ballroom, passed around between dignitary and celebrity and back again. With as much brain power as she could spare, she occupied her time by cataloging any stray details about her partners. Height, eye color, hair color… any male pattern baldness. You know, for reasons. “Princess,” her next partner greeted her, dipping his head. “How are you enjoying this day?”

“Very well, thank you,” she replied, automatically. An older man, his grip on her waist was just a little bit too tight, and his breath stank of onions. “And you?”

He had a number of medals pinned to his sash. What the hell was his name again? “A wonderful dinner,” he said.

There was not much more conversation after that.

Her next partner was shorter, but younger, with floppy brown hair and blue eyes. In her heels she was taller than him by a few inches. “Princess,” he said, his smile mischievous, eyes glinting. Annabeth was not sure she liked it one bit.

She smiled tightly back at him.

And then he looked down at her cleavage.

She sighed.

After the pig, she was whisked around to other dignitaries and members of state, before Magnus grabbed her, skillfully pulling her out of the sweaty hands of a rather infamous junior minister who enjoyed copping feels, and waltzing her away. “Oh thank all the gods,” she said. “I was getting real sick of being felt up by random government workers.”

“No problem,” he said, “but I’m actually here on reconnaissance.”

“What?”

“I have orders to transport you to someone else.”

“Huh? Oh–!”

And then he spun her into the waiting arms of her father. He stumbled a little bit as he caught her, nearly bowling over an elderly lady with white hair, dressed in a salmon taffeta storm who gave them the stink-eye before realizing who, exactly, she was stink-eyeing.

“Hello, dear,” her father grinned at her, bashful.

“Dad,” she said, her eyes still swimming a bit.

“I apologize for the ambush,” he said, “but I haven’t gotten to speak to you all day. How are you?”

She’d been in the country for two days already. If he wanted to get her alone, he had had ample time to do so beforehand. “Fine.”

“You look lovely tonight.”

Helen had picked out a light blue gown for her, with a sweetheart neckline that did absolutely nothing for her cleavage and sleeves that itched around the armpit. “Thank you.”

“Did you enjoy dinner?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, good. Had a good flight back?”

“I did, yeah.”

Out of questions, he fell silent. They danced in awkwardness for a minute or two.

“When are you heading to Mexico?” he asked.

“In about a week.” And not a minute too soon.

He frowned a little. “I see.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“I didn’t agree that you were the best person from the family to send.”

That… stung. “Sorry you were overruled,” she said.

“What? Oh, no, I don’t–I didn’t mean it like that.” The music, some generic classical string quartet, came to an end, the dancers politely applauding the musicians. Annabeth joined in, her soft white gloves making almost no noise.

“Well, I already got tickets to the games. You can cancel my hotel if you want; I can find my own way.”

“That’s not–” He cut himself off, taking her in his arms as the music started again, leading her off to the side of the ballroom. “What I meant was,” he said, softly, “was that you’ve been working so hard lately. I thought you might want to take the summer to relax a little. Here.” Almost bashful, he turned away to grab a couple glasses of wine from a nearby waiter. Annabeth almost missed his last few words. “With us.”

“Oh.” Hard pass. “I… I can’t just take the summer off anymore, dad. I got a few weeks for the Olympics, but I have a few projects in the works back in New York that I need to get back to as soon as I’m done.”

His brow furrowed, he nodded. “I understand. Do you need any–?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” she said. She didn’t even know what he was going to ask. “I’ve got everything I need.”

He nodded again. “Good. That’s good.”

They stood together, watching the dancers for a while. It reminded Annabeth of a movie, almost, some kind of pretentious costume drama where all the men spoke of war and all the women connived to get their daughters on the throne, where everyone was having sex with everyone else and alliances were decided on the flip of a coin. She always used to hate those. There was never any strategy to them, just whatever shock value the writers could come up with.

“After the Olympics,” her father said, after some time, “will you come back?”

He didn’t say home, she thought. “For a few days, maybe. But it might be easier to go straight back to New York.”

“I’d… I’d like it if you came back.” He shuffled his feet, shoulders hunched.

What for, she almost said, unthinkingly. But really, what for? So she could spend three days recovering from jetlag in her apartments while he forgot about her?

“Would it be alright if I stopped by later?” he asked. “I can–I can bring some snacks. Popcorn. And we can watch something together, for your birthday. For old time’s sake.”

She should say no. She should say he didn't need his performative bullshit. She should say he wasn't going to show up, so why bother. But deep down, she was still seven years old and just wanted her dad to love her, despite him making it clear he didn't, never had, and didn't plan to.

"Okay."

And then he smiled at her, like he had over that plate of diner food all those years ago, and she felt warm inside, like she had just taken that perfect first sip of hot cocoa. “Excellent. I’ll see you then.”

“It’ll probably be late,” she said, giving him a chance to back out. “I don’t know how much longer this is going to go on.”

“Ah, just leave it to me, dear,” he grinned, placing his empty wine glass on the tray of a passing server. “You go ahead and get comfortable, and I’ll go ahead and make your apologies to your uncle.” And then he wandered off, in search of the king.

Well. At least it got her out of her own party, if nothing else. She slipped out through the special side exit, nodding at Hans, who valiantly suppressed a smile as he closed the door behind her.

She wasn’t expecting much. Best case scenario, her dad showed up and they very awkwardly sat on opposite sides of the couch for two hours; worse case scenario, her dad didn’t show up and she got to go to sleep early. Honestly, it was a win-win either way.

Slipping out of her dress, she threw it across her bed, vowing to pick it up before she went to bed, before going in for a shower–a long shower. She was still exhausted and sore from her workout that morning, and sitting all evening, perched on those decorative chairs, her feet crammed into a pair of heels, had done her absolutely no favors. Afterwards, she pulled on her old Harvard t-shirt and sweats, furiously scrubbing her makeup off in her bathroom. They always used too much of it, and it made her forehead itch.

She had just finished her curl treatment and was debating the merits of a face mask when she heard a knock at her door.

Swallowing, she paused, her hand on the spigot.

“Annabeth?” she heard her father say, muffled. “It’s me, dear.”

He… he was here.

To say he couldn’t make it?

But if he couldn’t make it, then he would have just texted her. Or not shown up at all.

Slowly, like in a dream, she went over to her door, and opened it. On the other side was her father, his nice suit and official sash exchanged for a pair of silk pajama pants and his own Harvard t-shirt. When he saw her shirt, he beamed, almost childlike in his joy. “We match!”

She smiled back, in spite of herself. “Come on in,” she said, standing aside.

“I can’t remember the last time I was here,” he mused, eyes wide as he took the apartment in. It was pretty clean, thankfully. The cleaning staff here were amazing, but Annabeth didn’t really spend that much time in it anyway. Her place in New York was much, much more of a home. And had the floordrobe and dirty dishes to prove it. “Did you change the furniture recently?”

Annabeth shrugged. “Dunno. Not like anyone asked me my opinion on interior design.” Despite, you know, her graduate level qualification in architecture and design.

“Oh.” Her father frowned. “Well, I’ll remind someone to remind anyone doing remodels or decorations that they should talk to you. I know you don’t live here anywhere close to full time, but I want you to feel like it's home. Because it is your home.”

That would be… nice. “Thanks.” His arms were full of things, she just realized. “Do you need me to take something?”

“Can I just put it on the table?”

She nodded, looking over what he'd brought as he spread it out. A couple of bags of popcorn, a jar of olives, a stack of DVDs and… “Did you send someone to get Dunkin?” she asked, picking up the familiar orange and pink box.

“Not all the way to Boston,” her father assured her, chuckling. “There's one in Copenhagen.”

She smiled despite herself. She remembered being very small, and being in Boston with her dad. Maybe before they moved back to Sweden, or maybe on one of the trips he liked to take her on, before he got married. He’d shared a donut with her, and told her it was the one and only thing that America did better than Europe. She took a donut hole and bit into the sugary, fried goodness. It was not as good as the one she’d had in JFK, waiting for her plane, but this one had also traveled from Denmark, so it wasn’t fair to compare. “What are we watching?”

“I have an old collection of classics,” her dad said. “Roman Holiday for me, Legally Blonde for you.” He smiled, grabbing the Roman Holiday first. “It's late, so it's alright if, when we’re done, you want to go to sleep. But I brought a few others, too.” Sune’s Summer, Lotta, and…

“Clash of the Titans?” She asked. They used to watch it on his old VHS tape, straight out of the 80s.

“We haven’t watched that one together in forever,” he said. “I had to at least bring it.”

She smiled. “Let’s get started, then. We have a lot of ground to cover.”

She hoped she didn’t look too guilty during Roman Holiday, praying that memories of Percy Jackson and his stupid chest would fade soon (even if, hopefully, the memories of his tongue would stick around), but then Audrey went on about duty and rules and Annabeth was reminded of hers, though she didn’t not think she was making quite the same sacrifice as Ann. Gregory Peck wasn’t throwing away his career for her.

She waited until Legally Blonde though, because Elle made her brave. Her father and his siblings might have gone to Harvard, and Annabeth might have spent several years living in America, but taking that leap, leaving the sheltered worlds she had known, and moving to Boston for school had seemed momentous in a way other, arguably more stressful things never had. Royalty, bravery, and battle were in her blood. But Harvard University, being a single girl in the big city, that all seemed harder, in its own way.

Elle Woods was brave, so Princess Annabeth would be too.

“I’ve been thinking,” she started, as Elle stood in line to buy a laptop in her Playboy bunny suit, “About my future.”

Her father paused, then sighed, and she felt her stomach turn in a way that had nothing to do with the day old donuts or popcorn. “I see.”

“I… Do you have any thoughts?”

“About your future?”

“Yeah.” He had gone through the royal marriage process. Maybe he could give her some tips.

He leaned back, his mouth twisting. “Well,” he said, “I don’t think I can really speak to it without knowing what you’re looking for.”

Was he really going to make her say it? “Any tips for finding a spouse? You managed yourself a wife who loves being a royal. I’d love some suggestions on how to replicate that success.”

Brow furrowed, he didn’t look at her. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

“For what?” For marriage? Probably not. But for the crown… Did he think she couldn’t do it?

“For–”

And then she decided, she didn’t really want to know. Rushing forward, she interrupted him. “Besides, it’s not really a question of readiness, isn’t it? I mean, it’s going to happen anyway.”

“You’re still young,” he said. “You don’t have to rush anything.”

“Not that young.” Twenty-five? It might not be the Middle Ages anymore, when sixteen year old girls were married off to prevent war. But still, every day she waited, possibilities slipped away. “I’m not planning on getting married next month,” she offered, “or even next year. But soon twenty-five will be thirty, and thirty will be thirty-five. If I start now, I can be selective, I can find someone Uncle Randolph and the court of public opinion will approve of.” She wondered if he even registered that she didn’t include him in the list of approving parties.

“Still, there is no rush.”

“That’s why now is a good time,” she told him. “It has to happen someday. Putting it off will only delay the inevitable, and possibly make the stakes that much higher.”

“What stakes could be higher than who you marry?”

Was he for real? “The succession of the monarchy of Sweden,” Annabeth said, with as much ‘duh doi’ as she could muster without actually saying it. “Heirs are supposed to have kids. That’s how hereditary monarchies work.” He should know this. They’d both minored in poli sci.

But he shook his head. “That doesn’t have to be your concern. Not about this, not about finding a partner.”

“Uncle Randolph is the king,” Annabeth pointed out, as patiently as she could. “You’re his heir. And I’m your heir.” Unless he decided to go with one of the twins, which–no. “Finding a husband is inextricably linked to the succession of the throne.” She refused to believe that he’d married his wife, the dear Princess Frederick, without at least considering how she’d react to royal life. Even if, on the whole, it was true love, or whatever.

“You still don’t need to make it your concern.”

“You have a way for me not to take the future of Sweden, the future of our very ancient bloodline, into account for all of my decisions going forward?”

“Yes,” he said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “you can abdicate your position.”

Well, that was…not exactly unexpected, but also, not exactly expected, either. Again, it was the brazenness of it all. “Interesting proposition,” she said, popping a donut hole in her mouth. Her mind ran through the possible responses. “What exactly would I get out of that?”

The real question was what he might offer her to do so: a new title? Money? Finally loving her?

Her father took her hand. When she turned to look at him, she nearly jumped–he was facing her, his eyes deadly serious in a way that she had rarely seen before. “My dear,” he said, his tone grave, “you could have someone who loves all of you.”

Stunned, she said nothing.

But he went on. “Your mother was extraordinary, and I loved her very much. I believe she loved me, too–but only one part of me. And then when I married, it was to someone who only knew the other part of me.”

Annabeth didn’t mean to scoff aloud. But her father looked up at her, a question in his sad frown.

“I mean…” she hedged, awkwardly, “what doesn't she like about you? Other than the fact that you had the gall to have me before she got her hooks…” He frowned, and she coughed. “I mean, before she met you.”

Her father sighed, a deep, world-weary thing. And she was sure she was going to get some platitude about what a good woman her step-mother was, how she was a very important and valued member of the family, the sentiment of ‘more than you are’ going unvoiced deep below the surface.

“She enjoys being married to a prince, and she enjoys being a mother to princes,” her father said instead. “She loves being a princess, and she loves that I made her one. But… for all the issues between your mother and I, I never doubted that she loved me for the man I was, not titles or family. If anything, I think bloodline proved a discouragement, but she chose me, anyway. Your stepmother loves the prince she’s married to. But I think the fact that I am that prince doesn’t really matter. As you said, she resents that I had you, before I met her. Which is ridiculous on any level, of course, but with you… with what you mean to me…” he trailed off, and shook his head. “There is very little I regret in this life, Annabeth, except for how I hurt you, but I will admit… sometimes, the loneliness can be grating.” He squeezed her hand. “You are too wonderful to bear that loneliness.”

Predictably, she blinked back tears. She had borne that loneliness all her life. What would be any different about marriage? “You don’t think I can handle it on my own? Being queen?”

“Of course you can,” he said, without hesitation. Like it was unthinkable. “With grace and poise. But you shouldn’t have to.”

Pulling on her hand, her father gathered her into a hug, placing his head on top of hers. With a start, she realized she couldn’t remember the last time she had actually hugged her father. It was an awkward fit, on the couch, their bodies too far away for them to really hug it out, her arms resting almost limply at her sides.

“Don’t keep punishing yourself because of my mistakes,” he said, resting his cheek on the crown of her head. “Please, dear. You deserve so much more than you’ve been given.”

She froze, for a second, before slowly snaking her arm up around him. Her body relaxed into his hold, muscle by muscle, and she shut her eyes, blocking out the light and the noise of the TV and the voice in her head which whispered to her warnings of trickery or subterfuge.

No. This wasn’t a ruse. She wouldn’t let herself believe it. Instead, she would simply breathe in his scent, old books and motor oil, and appreciate the moment for what she wanted it to be.

#princess sailor au #my fic #darkmagyk #pjo fic #percabeth #the rivalry ends here #one chapter a month is consistent uploading right? lol #also lmk if you want to be tagged

50 notes · View notes

albertasunrise · 3 years

Text

Mistakes - Chapter 1

Summary: You’d known it was a bad idea to get involved with Javier Peña. You were just another notch on his bedpost but you were a notch he kept revisiting. You know you should have stopped it, declined his offers to rock your world but you couldn’t and now you had to deal with the consequences. Consequences that you knew he would refuse to accept.

Warnings: Angst, References to sex, Unplanned Pregnancy, Mentions of Abortion

Pairings: Javier Peña x Reader

As you stared at those two lines you felt your stomach twist. How was this happening? You’d been careful, always using protection so how was it that you were now looking at a positive pregnancy test. You’d known it was a bad idea to get involved with Javier Peña. You were just another notch on his bedpost but you were a notch he kept revisiting. You know you should have stopped it, declined his offers to rock your world but you couldn’t and now you had to deal with the consequences. Consequences that you knew he would refuse to accept.

‘Fuck.’ You sobbed as you placed the test down and picked up the other, it too telling you the same thing ‘Shit… What am I going to do?’

Were you ready to be a mum?

Should you get rid of it?

No, you’d never be able to do that.

You knew you had to tell him but how? How were you supposed to tell the most desired man at the embassy that your casual relations with him had led to this? A baby

You walked from the bathroom and sank onto the couch, placing the tests on the coffee table as you let your tears flow freely now. You were pulled from your cries by a knock at the door and after wiping your tears and letting out a few shaky breaths you answered, not getting a chance to see who it was but the familiar lips on yours told you. He kissed you with fervour but you can’t return it, you don’t want to and he senses that quickly.

‘What's the matter Cariño? He asked as he kissed down your neck ‘I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all day.’

‘Don’t Javi.’ You said as you pushed him off of you, avoiding his gaze as you made your way back to the couch.

‘What the hell is up with you?’ He growled, angered by your rejection of his advances.

‘Javier please.’ You sobbed then, throwing your face into your hands.

Javier’s stomach sank, his anger replaced with worry as he sprinted to your side and dropped to his knees in front of you, missing the two sticks of plastic on your coffee table. He grabbed your hands and pulled them from your face, cupping it in his hands as he lifted it so your eyes were level with his.

‘What's going on?’ He asked, brow furrowed in concern ‘Has something happened?’

You could only nod, eyes settling on the tests that sat just behind him. His gaze followed yours and stopped on the offending items, eyes growing wide as he saw what they said and his head quickly whipped back to face you.

‘You’re?’

You nodded, letting out another sob as your hand unconsciously came to rest on your belly.

‘Who’s is it?’ He asked and this made you look up at him in disbelief.

‘Who’s do you think?’

‘Well, I don’t know who else you've been sleeping with.’ He grumbled and you gave him a chilling look before shifting out of his grasp.

‘Fuck you, Javier.’ You spat, shoulders shaking as you walked to your kitchen.

‘What?’

‘I haven’t slept with anyone else Javi.’ You announced, the cogs in his mind whirring ‘I haven’t been with anyone but you. Men don't exactly throw themselves at me.’

‘But we-.’ He paused as he took in the information ‘No this isn’t possible. How?’

‘I don’t fucking know Javi.’ You snapped ‘Condoms aren’t a hundred per cent effective, everyone knows that. I guess one failed.’

‘I…Uh.’ He stuttered, unsure of what to say ‘I’ll speak to Connie.’ He said finally ‘See if we can get you booked in for a termination.’

‘A termination?’

‘Well you’re not seriously considering keeping it are you?’ He inquired, his tone exasperated ‘I mean you’re in no position to raise a kid. We should get rid of it.’

‘Get the fuck out.’

‘Cariño.’

‘OUT!.’

‘Please just think about this. We can’t have a baby together. We fuck casually, I don’t want a relationship and I certainly don’t want a kid. I can’t give you what you want. You’ll be alone in this.’

‘That's fine Javi. I guessed I would be.’ You growled ‘You have no right however to tell me to get rid of it. I’m going to have this baby with or without you. Just know that they’ll never know you. I refuse to let them know a father that told me to get rid of them… Now get the fuck out of my house.’

‘Cariño.’

‘GO!.’

He left and you stood there, seething on the spot. You knew he wasn’t going to react well but you'd never expected him to suggest you terminate it. That had never been an option for you. You sobbed a little at the knowledge you’d be doing this alone, suddenly very aware of how alone you really were and after glancing at the clock and seeing was barely seven you decided to pay Connie a visit.

…

‘You’re what?’ She exclaimed, a little shocked by the news you'd just told her.

‘I was surprised too.’

‘Who’s is it?’

‘Connie…’

‘It’s Javi��s isn't it?’

‘Well, I haven’t been with anyone else since I arrived here a year ago.’ You confirmed and she gasped.

‘You told him?’ She asked

You nodded.

‘How did he take it?’

‘Told me to get rid of it.’

‘He what?’ She yelled and you flinched a little ‘Sorry.’ She apologised.

‘He said he doesn’t want a relationship, which I already knew, and that he doesn’t want kids. Told me it was for the best but it was never an option for me Con. I figured I’d be raising this baby alone. Just never thought he'd tell me to terminate it.’

‘He’s a fucking idiot.’ Piped up Steve, sipping from his beer ‘I can kick the shit out of him if you like.’

‘And what will that achieve?’ You chuckled ‘No, it's fine. This baby will never know him.’ You declared ‘I’ll make sure of it. It’ll never feel unwanted.’

Connie managed to get an appointment in the clinic for you to get your first scan and even attended it with you. As you lay were, shivering from the jelly that the doctor had squirted on your stomach it all became very real to you. Placing the prob on your skin, she started to move it around and you fixed your eyes on Connie, nerves starting to get the better of you.

Then you heard it.

‘There we are.’ Said the doctor as she turned the screen ‘See that little shape there?’ You nodded ‘That’s your baby.’ She stated ‘Judging from this I'd say you’re around 9 weeks along. Strong heartbeat. Everything looks good.’

‘Wow.’ Said Connie, her eyes glued to the screen ‘That’s the most wonderful thing I think I’ve ever seen, don’t you think?’

‘Yeah.’ You replied, letting out a choked sob as you watched your baby on the screen.

‘I shall print some pictures for you.’ Said the doctor, smiling at you both ‘Would you like some too?’ She asked Connie and the woman nodded eagerly.

…

‘So that thing there that looks like a cashew… that’s the baby?’ Asks Steve, nose scrunched as he studied the pictures.

‘Yup.’ You replied, grinning at him ‘I’ve grown a cashew.’

Connie giggled at that, refreshing your lemonade as you glanced at the pictures yourself.

‘Still can’t believe that there’s a tiny being growing inside of me.’ You said, a few stray tears slipping down your cheeks ‘I love them so much already and I haven’t even met them properly yet.’

‘It’s going to be so loved.’ Said Connie ‘I’ve already bought a tone of wool to knit it some cute bits.’

‘I didn’t know you knit!’

‘Ahhhh.’ Said Steve, waving the picture at you ‘She’s a woman of mystery my wife!’

‘Gah!’ Squealed Connie as you walked out of the changing room ‘Look at that bump!’ She squealed with excitement ‘How have you been hiding that from us?’

Connie had dragged you out to find a dress for the office Christmas Party. You really didn’t want to go, you were four months pregnant and still suffering from sickness a little but Connie had begged you to come shopping with her and that’s when she’d found this dress for you. A pale mint green that suited your complexion perfectly.

‘Baggy t-shirts and loose blouses my friend.’ You replied with a wink ‘What do you think?’ You asked as you gave her a twirl, the sundress accentuating your growing belly ‘Doesn’t just make me look fat does it?’

‘NO!’ She practically screamed ‘You are glowing.’

‘Do we have to go to this party?’ You groaned ‘I can’t drink so it's going to be a bore for me.’

‘I’ll stay sober with you!’ announces Connie, determined to convince you to come.

‘Is Javi going?’

‘Doubt it.’ She replied ‘Not really his scene.’ She paused, pulling her best puppy eyes ‘Please.’

‘Fine.’ You groaned ‘But you have to stay sober.’

‘Promise.’

‘You said he wouldn’t be here.’ You snapped at Connie, seething at the sight of Javier drinking at the bar with Steve.

The hall was decorated with traditional Christmas decorations, a large tree at the centre of the far wall twinkled with fairy lights that gave an aura of magic to the room.

‘I said I doubted he’d come.’ She retorted, raising her hands in mock surrender.

‘I need to leave.’

‘No, you’re here now. Come on.’ She begs ‘You don’t have to speak to him.’

You’d managed to avoid him pretty well since announcing to him that you were having his baby and he’d avoided you too. Steve kept you up to date and you knew that he hadn’t asked about you or the baby and that had made it crystal clear for you. You really were in this alone. There had been a small part of you that hoped he'd change his mind, tell you he wanted this. Wanted you but you knew you were fooling yourself. Javier Peña doesn’t settle and he certainly wouldn’t settle for a girl like you.

‘Come on, let's get us a drink.’

‘No alcohol remember.’ You remind her, and she rolled her eyes.

‘Yes, I know.’ She groaned.

You noticed Javier looking at you from the corner of your eye when you approached the bar but you didn’t return his gaze, you kept your eyes fixed on Connie as you flagged down the barman with one hand and cradled your bump with the other. Thumb stroking the fabric that covered your swell.

…

Javier studied you as Steve talked to him about a game he’d caught on the weekend. You looked good. Simple makeup, hair up in a loose bun with few curls framing your face and the sundress you wore suited you perfectly. As his eyes trailed over your body before they settled on your hand, the way it sat on your stomach highlighting your growing bump.

‘She’s showing.’ He said suddenly as his eyes growing wide, stopping Steve dead.

‘What?’ He asked, a little confused at the change of subject.

‘She’s showing.’ He said again and Steve followed his gaze to you, also noting your swollen stomach.

‘Shit yeah, she is.’ He replied, smiling to himself ‘You’ve been a fucking ass to her.’

“What?’ Javier snapped.

‘She’s four months pregnant with your baby and not once have you asked how she is. How the pregnancy’s going. Nothing.’

‘I don’t want it.’

‘Doesn’t fucking matter Javi.’ Steve scolded ‘You are that babies father and you’re doing fuck all to help her. What would your dad think if he knew?’

‘Steve-.’

‘She’s fine by the way. In case you do give a shit.’ He interrupted ‘Con’s been taking really good care of her. Went to her first scan, got her a bunch of books. Been arranging all her appointments for her.’ He took a swig of his whiskey ‘Baby’s doing well too. Cooking nicely.’

‘That’s great’ Javier growled, downing the last of his drink and storming out.

…

You noticed him leave but you didn't care. If anything, you were relieved. The rest of the evening went fairly well after that. He did come back but he avoided you and you did the same. You danced, you laughed and you enjoyed yourself for the first time in that felt like years, your worries melting away. For a night you didn't worry about the future. The fact that you had no family to help you raise the baby or that its father didn't want it. You just focused on your friends, the music and yourself.

‘Thank you for arranging this Con.’ You said as you took her hand ‘You’ve been so amazing.’

It had been a month since the Christmas party and you’d not seen Javier since. You were a little surprised that you hadn’t run into him in the hall since your apartments were across from each other but you suspected that wasn't an accident but it didn't bother you. He was going you the space you’d demanded.

‘What are best friends for?’ She replied, smiling at you sweetly.

‘Well, they don’t normally arrange all your antenatal appointments for you.’

‘I work at the clinic.’ She chuckled ‘Easy for me to sort it for you.’ She gave your hand a squeeze ‘You nervous?’

‘A little.’ You confessed ‘Last time I was here they were teeny.’ You continued ‘Now look at me.’ You finished as you motioned to your very visible bump.

‘You’ll be able to learn the sex.’ Connie stated and you looked at her with comically wide eyes ‘You want to know?’

‘More than anything.’ You admitted ‘Been killing me not knowing. Makes getting for it things hard.’ You giggled.

Your name was called and you were led into a familiar room where you laid on the bed and lifted your shirt like before, hissing at the cold of the jelly again. She places the probe on your belly and moved it around, finding the baby quickly this time. You swooned at the sound of their heartbeat, the consistent thump making your own race.

‘Oh my.’ Squealed Connie ‘Look at it.’ She lamented, tears trickling down her cheeks ‘Hi.’ She giggled when its hand came into view.

‘Would you like to know the sex?’ The doctor asked and you nodded, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth as they focused on the screen again ‘Well it looks to me like you’re having a baby girl.’ She said after a few moments, turning the screen so you could see better ‘Congratulations.’

‘A girl?’ You asked, eyes widening and the doctor nodded.

‘Mhmm.’

‘You’re having a girl.’ Connie squealed and you look up at her with tear-filled eyes.

‘I’m having a girl.’ You grinned, laughing as you sobbed with joy.

‘I’ll print lots of pictures again.’ The doctor said, grinning at your reaction.

You practically skipped out of the clinic pictures in hand and Steve waved at you as you clambered into his truck, giggling as Connie shoved the pictures into his hand.

‘Well, now I can tell it’s a baby.’ He said and you rolled your eyes.

‘That's my daughter you’re talking about.’ You declared and he turned to face you and beamed.

‘You boys done?’ Asked Connie as she stopped beside the table, noting that Steve had eaten all his food but Javier had barely touched his.

They’d been pouring over paperwork and pictures for hours and coming up empty-handed. Running a hand through his hair, he looked up at his partner’s wife and gave her a weak smile.

‘Um yeah… Thanks, Con.’

‘Nah come on, finish your food.’ Grumbled Steve ‘You’ve not eaten all day.’

‘I guess I just don’t have much of an appetite.’ Stated Javier as he pushed his plate away.

He hadn’t had one since he’d seen you at that Christmas party. Seeing you there glowing, round with his child, had brought out all these feelings in him that he was struggling with. He wasn’t sure what it was he was feeling but he knew that he missed you. Pined for you. That was painfully clear to him.

‘You never do.’ Steve retorted, pulling him from his thoughts ‘You live off of ex and Whiskey. Amazed you’re not thinner.’

‘Fuck off Murphy.’ He growled, grabbing his beer and drinking the last of it before placing it down on the counter in the kitchen ‘Thanks for Din…’ He trailed off as his eyes caught sight of your sonogram pictures, your name and the date above the very clear image of a baby ‘Is this?...’

‘Your baby?’ Snapped Steve and Javier flinched at his change in tone ‘Yup.’

‘She had her 20-week scan yesterday.’ Said Connie softly, watching the way Javier’s eyes softened as he studied the image ‘Here.’ She handed him some more pictures and there was one that caught his attention in particular, a very visible hand above them giving the illusion that they were waving ‘She’s already waving and she’s not even been born yet.’ Connie chuckled as she grabbed his bottle and placed it in the glass bin.

‘She?’ He said suddenly, head whipping up to look at Connie with tears pooling in his eyes ‘It’s a girl?’

‘Yeah.’ She replied, grinning as she nodded excitedly ‘Got so many patterns to do and now I can buy some girly wool. Can’t believe there’s going to be a baby around here soon!’

His hand flew up to his mouth as he let out a sob, eyes returning to the picture that now shook in his grasp as tears splash on its shiny surface. This was a life he’d helped create and it was growing inside of you. He realised how stupid he’d been and he suddenly felt overwhelmed.

‘Hey.’ Said Connie softly as she pulled him into a hug and he sobbed against her shoulder, his body shaking as he cried.

‘I’m going to have a daughter.’ He sobbed ‘And she’ll never know who I am.’

‘You can change that Javier.’ Said Connie, pulling away to look him in the eye ‘You still have a chance to be part of this baby’s life but you need to do something about it.’

‘They’re better off without me.’

‘Seeing these pictures here, how do they make you feel?’ She questioned, glancing at Steve who is watching his partner carefully.

‘I don’t know.’ He answered honestly.

‘When you see her. The baby girl that you helped create. Do you want to know her?’ She asked, hand on his arm rubbing comforting circles.

‘Yes.’ He choked out, eyes drifting up to Connie.

‘Then there is your answer.’ She stated ‘You have a chance to be a part of your daughter’s life but only if you act.’

‘She said I’d never know them.’ He sobbed ‘She swore it.’

‘You had just told her to get an abortion.’ Piped up Steve and Connie threw him an angry look.

‘How about I speak to her. Arrange for the three of us to sit down and talk this all out.’ She suggested and Javier nodded weakly ‘Give me a few days.’

‘Okay.’

‘Absolutely not!’ You yelled, angry tears streaming down your cheeks ‘I don’t want to speak to him.’

‘But-.’

‘No buts Con.’ You snarled ‘He wants nothing to do with her and she’ll never know him.’

‘He saw your ultrasound pictures the other night.’ She stated and you looked at her with a confused expression, unsure of where this was going ‘He sobbed when he learned that you’re having a girl. I slipped up when he saw the waving picture. He cried his eyes out. He wants a chance to be a part of her life. You need to give him that chance hun.’ She pleaded ‘Just come round tonight. We’ll talk it out and see what happens.’

‘Why does he suddenly care?’

‘I think the ultrasound made it more real for him.’ She said, shrugging slightly ‘I think him seeing those pictures made him realise he wants this. He just hadn’t known before.’

‘Fine.’ You grumbled ‘But if he steps even a toe out of line, I will make sure he never meets her.’

‘Shit, okay…’ Connie breathed, a little taken aback by your statement ‘See you later.’

You sat nervously at Connie’s table, waiting for Javier to arrive. She’d decided that dinner was perhaps not the best way to talk things through, too many ways to get out of not saying anything at all. You rubbed your swollen belly, feeling your stomach twist in knots as you ran through the possible scenarios for how this would go. You weren’t expecting him to confess his love for you and the two of you skip away together, one big happy family. You weren’t sure what you were expecting.

‘That’s him.’ Said Connie as a knock sounded at the door and you felt your heart begin to race.

‘Just breath.’ You said to yourself, glancing up as Connie and Javier appeared through the doorway.

‘Hi.’ He said gingerly, rubbing the back of his neck as he oozed nervousness.

‘Hi.’ You replied, short and curt.

‘Javi why don’t you sit down.’ Said Connie as she pointed to the chair across from you ‘I’ll grab you a beer.’

‘Thanks.’ He replied, giving her a quick nod before taking a seat.

‘How are you?’ He asked in an attempt to break the silence and you rolled your eyes at him.

‘Really?’

‘What?’

'It’s been 5 months and now you want to do small talk?’

‘Carino I-.’

‘I’d appreciated it if you didn’t call me that.’ You growled ‘I’m not your sweetheart.’

‘Here.’ Said Connie as she placed the beer in front of him and he gave her a weak smile.

‘Thanks.’

You all sat there in awkward silence before Connie finally decided that enough was enough. She slammed the sonogram pictures on the table along with some shoes she’d clearly knitted herself. They were tiny and brought tears to your eyes as you studied them. A pale pink with white toes and a large brown wooden button fastened them shut.

‘We all know why we're here.’ She began, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms ‘You are having a baby together. Javier, you have made some big mistakes in how you dealt with the news but I know that you want to make amends and you want a chance to be involved.’ She paused and he glanced up at her before looking at you with the saddest expression you’d ever seen ‘Hun I understand why you’re upset with him. When you first told me what he’d said I almost stormed down there to castrate him myself.’ That made Javier wince ‘But you need to do what’s best for her.’ She declared as she leaned forward and lifted one of the scans so you could see it more clearly ‘You’re going to be parents in less than four months. Don’t you want to give your baby the best possible start? With both her of parents in her life?’

‘Javi’s married to the job.’ You grumbled and he winced at the fact you were about him as if he wasn't there ‘I don’t want to do this alone. I am terrified, but I can’t be worrying about him letting me and the baby down.’

‘May I speak?’ He pipped up and both you and Connie looked at him, your expression expectant ‘I did fuck up. I freaked out. I came to Columbia to make a difference, I never expected to meet someone that I’d come to care for and I certainly never expected to end up having a baby with said person. I won’t lie. I was sure I didn’t want it. I genuinely thought it would be better off without me but when I saw you at the party, your small bump under that dress I realised how much I missed you and how much I was missing out on.’ He paused, scraping a hand over his tired face ‘When I saw these I felt something I’d never expected to feel. I felt a swell of happiness inside as I looked at my baby and when Connie told me it was a girl… Well.’ He paused again, looking down at the sonogram in his hand ‘I knew that I wanted to be a part of her life. I want it all.’

‘Javier-.’

‘I’m not expecting you to take me back.’ He interrupted and you sat there with your mouth hanging open ‘But I want to be there for you... For you both. If you’ll let me.’

‘I uh-.’ You sit there with a gobsmacked expression plastered over your face.

You’d not expected that.’

‘I want to be there when she comes, hold your hand as you push our baby girl into this world. I want to hold her when she cries, sing her to sleep, albeit badly, and I want to support you. Take some of the load. I didn’t realise how much I wanted this, wanted her until I was faced with the possibility of never being able to have it.’

You sit there in silence. Tears rolling down your cheeks as you and Javier gaze at each other, a small smile tugging at the corner of your mouth as he leant forward and took your hand.

‘I swear to you that she will be my number one priority.’ He stated ‘I will move heaven and Earth for her.’

‘Okay.’ You replied, nodding lightly ‘But I need to know that when it comes down to the wire. She’s the one you choose.’

‘I will.’ He replied, smiling sweetly at you.

The rest of the evening went smoothly after that. You discussed arrangements. Agreed that he could come to your final scan before the baby was born and discussed living together initially afterwards. You’d ended up deciding on his apartment as it had a spare room and was larger although agreed it was a good idea to keep yours in case the arrangement didn’t work. You both hugged Connie goodnight. Thanked her for helping the two of your settle your differences and made your way down to your respective apartments but there was no longer an awkward air hanging over you both. Just quiet acceptance.

‘Thank you for agreeing to talk to me.’ He said sweetly, giving your hand a friendly squeeze as you came to a stop outside your front door.

‘Connie was right.’ You started, squeezing his back ‘We need to do what’s best for her.’

Smiling, he gave you a nod and a peck on the cheek ‘Good night Carino.’ He said softly, his eyes sparkling.

‘Why don’t you come in.’ You said, giving him a small smile ‘It’s still early and it would be good to talk a little more.’

‘Sure.’ He replied, following you in as you opened your door.

‘I haven’t got any alcohol I’m afraid.’ You snickered ‘Made me sad having it and not being able to drink it.’

‘That’s fine.’ He replied, smirking at you.

‘I probably have some coffee in the cupboard or I can make you a herbal tea.’

‘I’m fine.’ He replied as he let out a giggle ‘Don’t fuss.’

‘Right.’ You replied, lowering yourself onto the couch with one hand cradling your bump. ‘I look forward to being able to sit down on the couch again gracefully.’ You grumbled ‘Why they gave me an apartment with such a low one I will never know. Perhaps they knew I was going to get pregnant!.’

‘Perhaps.’ He replied as he sat down across from you and you turned your head to look at him.

‘So.’ You breathed.

‘So.’ He returned.

‘I have been trying to think of names.’ You started, leaning forward to grab the list you’d made and handed it to him.

‘These are all Spanish names?’ He questioned, giving you a bemused look.

‘Well, she’d going to have a little Mexican in her.’ You chuckled ‘Just because I hated you, didn't mean I wanted to deny her heritage.’

‘I deserved that.’ He replied with a wince ‘Well I have an aunt called Regina.’ He started, looking down the list’ She smells like beats and repeats herself all the time.

‘Veto on Regina.’

‘I like Elena and Luna.’ He continued ‘Oh and Rosa.’

‘Spooky.’ You said, catching his attention.

‘What is?’

‘Those are all my favourites.’ You replied with a smile and he beamed back at you.

You sat for a few minutes in comfortable silence, the two of you gazing at each other as you rubbed circles on your belly.

‘Whoah!.’ You said suddenly as you sat upright, eyes widening and you looked down at your belly.

‘What is it?’ He asked, his tone a little panicked.

‘She’s moving.’ You replied, grinning at him ‘Come feel. Shit, that’s weird.’

‘You sure?’ He asked, a little surprised at how ready you were to allow him back in.

‘Yes! Come on before she stops!’

He scooted over towards you, smiling when you grabbed his hand and placed it over your bump. For a few moments there was nothing and then… kick.

‘Whoah!’

‘Freaky right?’ You giggled.

‘Very!’

‘Imagine what it’s like for me. She’s doing it from inside.’ You chuckled and he grinned at you ‘She’s gotta be dancing the tango in there. Jesus!’

‘Hey, little one.’ Said Javi as he lowered his face towards your swollen belly ‘Settle down now. Mummy’s very happy to feel you moving but no need to overdo it.’

You chucked as you watched him talk to her, feeling her settle down inside of you and you rolled your eyes as he looked up at you.

‘Of course, she listened to you.’ You grumbled and Javier just shrugged.

You gazed at each other again, feeling the air between you crackle as he shifted himself so that he was more upright but no further from you. You saw his eyes drop to your lips and your own followed suit, tongue darting out to wet it before letting out a shaky breath in anticipation. As he pressed his lips to yours it was unhurried like it had been in the past. It was soft yet passionate and you felt yourself melting into it but soon it became heated, hands groping and tugging as you both desperately tried to deepen it.

‘I missed you.’ He whispered against your lips before his own started planting kisses down your neck.

‘Fuck.’ You moaned, feeling his actions going straight to your core but then your brain kicked in ‘Javi, Javi… Stop.’

‘What’s wrong?’ He asked as he pulled away, brows furrowed in concern.

‘As much as I’d love to revisit that.’ You started as you placed your hand on his chest ‘We need to take this slow. I can’t just go jumping back into bed with you. I need time to trust you again but if you’re serious about this then I need some proof.’

‘I want this. I want us.’ He urged, kissing you again with fervour.

‘And that's wonderful.’ You replied, pecking his lips ‘But I need a little time to process. Is that okay?’

‘Of course.’ He replied, flashing you a warm smile ‘We’ll take this as slow as you like.’

‘Why don’t we start with you staying over. We can talk a bit more, get to know each other again and then you can make me breakfast in the morning.’ You suggested, with a wink.

‘I think that can be arranged.’ He replied, pressing a tender kiss on your lips.

Chapter 2

#Javier Pena x Reader #Javier Pena x You #Javier Pena Fanfiction #Javier Pena #Javier Peña x Reader #Javier Peña x You #Narcos #Narcos Fanfiction #narcos x reader #Narcos x you #Javier Pena gif #javier gif #Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal Character #Pedro Pascal Character Fanfiction #Pedro Pascal Characters #pedro pascal gif #Javier Peña

66 notes · View notes

fleetingpieces · 3 years

Text

My One in a Million Chapter 4

Tagging @donttouchmycarrots and @sunflowerfox87 who I still can’t believe wanted to be tagged 🥺

Thank you so much everyone for your support ❤️

And as always, thank you @inloveoknutzy and Nayla for proofreading, you guys are the best ❤️

My One in a Million Masterlist

Chapter 4 - Morning routines

The feeling of the earth on his bare feet. Long nights playing video games with his friends. Streaming for his fans. Slow sunsets and starry nights. Having the gang at his flat all the time. Relaxing bubble baths. Sunday lunch with the Potters. Making the people who doubted him shove their words up their asses.

Those were all things Sirius Black loved.

Having his brother drilling him at 7 am on an otherwise perfect Friday morning was most definitely not one of them. Not at all.

“I told you a thousand times already, and I’ll say it again one last time. I am not. Going. To that stupid. Fucking. Dinner,” he practically yelled over the phone.

There was a tired sigh on the other end of the line.

“Sirius, please. Could you stop thinking only about yourself for once? They want you to come.” A short pause. “I want you to come.”

Sirius grunted lowly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“No, Reg. I gave them too much already. I can’t keep giving them more. I’m sorry.” He hung up before Regulus could get another word in and raked both hands through his hair.

Manipulative pieces of crap. They ‘wanted him to come’? What a fucking pile of shit. They had never wanted him there, they only wanted whatever they could get from him, asking for more, more and more, until they could suck him dry. They wouldn’t even be bothering with him if he was of no use to them.

Saying no to Regulus was the hard part. Knowing they were using him precisely because of this, that Regulus himself was using it against him, was almost like a knife twisting in his gut.

It hurt.

It hurt so fucking much, because Sirius still cared about him. He was still his little brother, despite the decisions they had both taken for their lives. But Regulus didn’t see it that way.

Sirius started pacing up and down his room, rubbing a hand through his face as his other went instinctively to his back pocket to grab a pack of cigarettes. He hated feeling like this, hated the push and pull that came with his family’s relationships; craving the acceptance of his own blood, wanting to be close to his brother, but also feeling like he needed to get as far from them as he could. Why couldn’t they understand he didn’t want anything to do with the company? Heck, he didn’t want anything to do with most of them, he only kept some sort of contact because of Regulus. Even if his brother didn’t really want anything to do with him.

A flash of pain slashed him in the middle of his chest, and Sirius stormed off to the balcony, a fag already between his lips.

Lighting it up felt like lifting some of the weight off his shoulders. He pictured all of his problems in his head and imagined exhaling them with the smoke, drifting away in the morning sky until there was nothing left of them.

Sirius snorted. He wished it was that easy to get rid of all his worries, but his brother’s voice kept whispering in his ears, no matter how many times he watched the smoke dissipate in front of his face, mixing with words that were not Reg’s but still sounded in his voice. Stop thinking about yourself. You’re such a disappointment. We gave you so much, and this is how you repay us? You don’t care about me. You don’t care, you don’t care, you don’t care.

“Ugh, fuck,” Sirius grunted as he leaned on the rail and let his head hang low, pressing his forehead against the cold metal.

A low sound reached him through the fog of noises in his head. It was a song he’d never heard before, its rhythm slow and calming, and Sirius tried to focus on that to clear his mind and make the voice shut up.

He raised his head, looking at the place where it was coming from, only to be faced with a sight that almost made him drop his cigarette six floors down.

The new neighbor, Remus, was behind the glass doors of his balcony, standing on top of a yoga mat, wearing a black tank top and a pair of grey shorts that were dangerously hiking up his thighs in the position he was currently in.

His arms were stretched on top of his head, his toned muscles making the veins in his arms pop, and his broad shoulders working with the slow movements he was making. There was such a peaceful air about him. His eyes were closed and the sun was drawing golden lines that flitted through his hair as he bent down at the waist to touch the floor, leaving his back exposed.

The freckles on Remus shoulders disappeared below the t-shirt, and Sirius desperately wanted to know just how far they reached. He swallowed thickly, unable to look away. It was mesmerizing to watch Remus transition between poses, his lithe body flowing like water. He briefly wondered if the man was as pliable in other ways, but when his heart rate started quickening, Sirius decided he should stop being a creep and allow his neighbor the privacy he deserved. Before he could tear his eyes away though, a black shadow darted into the room and tackled Remus to the floor.

Sirius gripped the rail unconsciously before he realised it was just Remus’ dog, and he was left breathless once more at the image in front of him.

Remus was laughing as the dog nudged him with its head, two of its paws pressed over those powerful shoulders as Remus stroked the fur at its sides. The man’s eyes were crinkled, his curls falling onto his forehead in a tawny mess that was so cute Sirius thought he might die.

Seeing him smiling like that, it reminded Sirius of the Halloween party almost a week ago.

At first, he’d been annoyed about Lily bringing Remus and a stranger into his home, but that was mainly ‘cause Sirius had been on edge about the whole family drama. He had been looking forward to a chill night with his friends, and having outsider eyes at that moment felt like something that would have made him step on eggshells all night to avoid revealing his identity.

But Remus had proved to be as interesting as Sirius had thought him to be the first time they talked, always taking him by surprise with his comments and reactions.

Sirius desperately wanted to know where the hell Remus had learned to play like that. It wasn’t every day that he was beaten by someone that didn’t seem to have a lot of time for games, even if he’d been overly distracted by his toned thigh touching his own leg. Yes, Sirius had had a hard time concentrating, but he hadn’t slacked off. Remus was good. And Sirius wanted to know how.

He was intrigued by the man in so many ways, his interest peaking with every new little thing he noticed: the gaming, the yoga, his weird way of thinking -Sirius chuckled when he remembered how Remus had thought he was a fucking drug dealer-, him showing up at a party wearing a jumper that was a few sizes too big for him, looking so impossibly cuddly and warm; his relationship with his dog, his relationship with that Leo guy.

As Remus nuzzled his nose into the dog’s fur, Sirius thought about the rainbow coloured bracelet on Leo’s wrist. He admired the guy for wearing the flag so proudly, just there in plain sight for everyone to see. Sirius wished he could do the same, to stand tall, out in the open. But the consequences for him were way too high.

A small, annoying part of his brain felt the need to remind him that this didn’t mean Remus liked dudes. But Sirius took comfort in the knowledge that, at the very least, it meant that he was ok with it. That he wouldn’t condemn Sirius for it.

Sirius reached for a new cigarette, even if he was already feeling calmer, and put it between his teeth, taking a second before lighting it. While he played with the flame of his lighter, he wondered how Remus knew about Padfoot. Oh, what he wouldn’t do to know that story.

His heart warmed, not for the first time, at how Remus had defended Padfoot so fiercely, having no idea that he was right there; no idea how much his words meant for Sirius. Remus had understood him incredibly thoroughly for someone that didn’t even know who Padfoot was. That he was sitting right next to him. And Sirius wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but he wanted to find out.

It was no surprise that Remus hadn’t recognized his voice, even though he was clearly a fan. Sirius always hid his accent on his videos to conceal any connection to his family, so his parents wouldn’t intervene and ruin everything.

Suddenly, the music drifting from the room next door changed to a more upbeat one. Remus lifted the black dog up in his arms, something that couldn’t be easy given its size, and hugged it as he started twirling around the room, laughing brightly as he did.

He was dancing.

With his dog.

And the face he was making, like the animal meant the world to him... How could someone you barely knew be so fucking endearing?

Sirius was still staring when Remus turned around and lifted his head, his eyes locking with Sirius’. He stopped mid-turn, the smile slipping from his face. Sirius felt a blush prickling at his cheeks at being caught basically ogling him, but he waved with an awkward smile.

His only answer was a scowl, even if from afar he could tell Remus was blushing too. He set the dog down, glaring at Sirius, who let his hand drop slowly as he watched the man close the curtains in a slash.

Sirius hid his face in his hands, feeling the heat radiate from his cheeks. How could he fuck up so much? Remus would think he was a fucking creep now. Dragging his hands down, Sirius knew he would have to genuinely step up his game if he wanted to get to know this man.

In the afternoon, Sirius was still pondering ways to get more acquainted with Remus, and coming back empty handed. He didn’t want to just show up at one of his classes, he lived right next door for fucks sake! He should be able to find a way to start up a conversation with him, right? Although Sirius had to admit, he hadn’t seen much of the guy since he’d moved in. Of course, Sirius hadn’t exactly been in the right state of mind to notice him.

But life seemed to be on his side, at least this once. Because when he stepped into the coffee shop where he was meeting up with James and Lily, the first thing he saw was a head of tawny curls.

Barely keeping in his glee, Sirius walked towards Remus, figuring he could just say hi. He stopped dead in his tracks though, when he was just a few steps behind him and he realized Remus was humming the lyrics of An Open Letter to Myself.

“I love that song,” he said without thinking. The man had a lovely voice, sweet and a bit sad, and it made his curiosity peak again.

Remus jolted and turned around with surprised eyes and slightly flushed cheeks, but as gold met silver, his eyebrows dropped quickly over his eyes. Sirius was taken aback by the clear hostility in Remus’ features, which made him stutter as he cleared his throat.

“Sorry, I... I saw you and thought... I… uhm... should come and say hi? So...hi,” Sirius said and immediately groaned inwardly at his stupidity. Since when was he this clumsy?

“Hello,” Remus said in a polite, detached tone before he turned away.

Sirius took a minute to rearrange his thoughts while he placed his order right after Remus. They got their drinks at the same time, and before Remus could walk away from the shop, Sirius scrambled for something else to say.

“Your dog is beautiful, what’s its name?”

The corner of Remus’ mouth tickled up at the mention of his pet, but it was pushed down almost instantly.

“Cocoa,” he replied reluctantly, and Sirius almost spit his tea.

“Cocoa? That huge ass dog has a cute name like Cocoa?”

Remus rolled his eyes, but he was almost pouting. “I just really like chocolate, ok? Besides, he’s just a pup,” he said as he moved over to add some sugar to his chai latte. Sirius followed.

“A pup?” he said incredulously. “How is that a pup?!”

Remus huffed. “He’s only about two or three years old.”

Sirius stared at him in disbelief. That dog was already past Remus’ knees, and if what he was saying was right, he was probably going to grow some more.

“Did you adopt him?” he asked, tilting his head, thinking about Remus’ choice of words. He was focusing his whole attention on Remus, and that was probably the only reason why he noticed the slight stutter of his hand as he stirred his drink.

“Yeah,” he said in a breath. Sirius thought that would be the end of the conversation, but then -as if he couldn't help himself- Remus added, “he was very young when I found him. He was abandoned and practically left to die; his previous owners must have thought it was too much trouble to raise a wolfdog, and decided to leave him tied up in the woods instead of being decent human beings and finding him an appropriate home.”

There was such disgust in his voice that Sirius took a step back while his heart melted into a puddle. Of course he rescued dogs. Sirius was starting to wonder if this guy was even real. He’d been so thoroughly captivated by him in such a short time, it was a bit scary. Sirius hadn’t felt like this in a very long time. He hadn’t let himself feel like this, it was too risky, and he knew it would be more sensible to leave Remus alone and stay away from him before things got worse, but he had felt drawn to him ever since the Halloween party.

“That’s awful. No one deserves to be treated like that,” he replied softly against his better judgement. If things got worse, he’d deal with that later.

Remus’ head snapped up, and for a moment it looked like he was drowning. Sirius had no idea what had brought that expression to his face, but the only thought in his mind was how desperately he wanted to erase it.

In hopes of doing so, he tried to change the subject to something lighter. “So, you like games, huh? You really did a number on me the other day. When did you start playing?”

The response he got was not what he’d expected. Remus’ expression hardened, and he turned his gaze away as he discarded the used stick with more force than was probably necessary.

“That’s hardly any of your concern, is it?”

Sirius blinked. And then blinked again. Was he still mad at him?

“Look, I’m really sorry about this morning. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything, I just-”

“You really think this is all just about this morning?” Remus snapped.

“What?” Sirius was confused. What had he done? He’d made a little fun of Remus the first time they talked, but it hadn’t been that bad, had it?

“At least you weren’t smoking into my room today,” Remus added with a huff, which made Sirius frown.

He supposed he did smoke quite close to the edge of their balconies, but by the way Remus was talking, he felt like there was more to it. He tried to think of all the interactions they had had so far, but he couldn’t think of anything that would elicit Remus’ anger. His mind drifted to them sitting on his couch with the NHL game, how their shoulders had bumped together playfully, how Remus had even seemed to be comfortable once he got a controller in his hands. It was the only time Remus had acted in a friendly-ish manner towards him, without the scowl that seemed to be permanently weighing down on his brows. But none of his smiles had actually been directed at him, they had all been shared with Leo.

He smiled a lot around the blond, but whenever he was close to Sirius he seemed to be in a bad mood. Sirius hated that.

“What did I do for you to dislike me so much?”

“If you need to ask, it just shows that it’s not even worth answering you.”

Remus turned around and walked briskly to the door, leaving Sirius completely dumbfounded. The door opened just as Remus was reaching for the handle, and he almost bumped into Lily and James, who were coming in. Sirius watched as he nodded at them with a few words, threw one last glare his way, and disappeared in the afternoon sun.

Lily watched him walk away with a confused expression on her face. She glanced at James who just shrugged, and then she looked directly at Sirius with a deep frown. He seemed to be getting a lot of those lately.

“What was that all about?” she asked when they got next to him.

“He hates me, that’s what it was,” Sirius grumbled.

“Why?”

“I don’t know!” Throwing his hands in the air, Sirius stared at Lily like she held all the answers in the world. “He looks at me like I’m the worst person to ever walk the Earth. What did I do to deserve that?”

Lily winced, and Sirius felt his heart freeze where it had melted on the floor.

“Well, apparently, you haven’t been a very good neighbor, have you?” she said gently. Everything started falling into place then, and Sirius suddenly had a pretty good idea what she was talking about. He could be a very self-absorbed prick after a row with his family.

“What can I do?”

“Maybe you should try apologizing first,” she doubted for a second before she kept going. “I’ve heard you broke something important of his on the day you two met.”

“That was him?!” Sirius asked in astonishment, remembering the day he’d knocked someone over in the hall, and ignoring the few heads that turned his way at his raised voice.

“You’re joking, right? You didn’t know?” When Sirius only shook his head, still speechless, Lily stared at him, bewildered. “Sirius, how could you not know?”

“I was so angry at the time Lily, I barely noticed anything I was doing!” Sirius said in a pleading voice. He glanced at James for support, who looked at him in sympathy and understanding. Sirius rubbed a hand over his face. “I just needed to get out of the flat, I couldn’t stand the sight of Reg with his cold eyes and-” Sirius stopped himself, clenching his fists.

It all came back to him. How Regulus had suddenly turned up at his flat, even though he wasn’t supposed to know the address. Even though he hadn’t visited Sirius’ home in five years.

How Reg had looked at him with such clear disappointment, like Sirius was nothing more than a waste of space, and had told him that he was expected to attend the annual Black Enterprises’ gala and fulfill his duty to the family. How he had stated that it was time he stopped acting like a child, with his foolish, selfish dreams, and took his place in the company.

Sirius had never wanted anything to do with the monster corporation that was Black Enterprises. He hated the way they did business and how they treated people, like anyone outside the Black family was trash.

A hand on his shoulder shook him away from his memories before he could spiral down into the hole he’d been in in the weeks before Halloween. Sirius looked up, and found James’ kind hazel eyes.

“It’s ok Pads,” he whispered. “You’re out of there. They have nothing on you, and you owe them absolutely nothing. I’m sure you can fix this.”

Sirius hoped his friend was right.

#My One in a Million #wolfstar #wolfstar fic #remus x sirius #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #neighbor!au #yoga!remus #remus #sirius orion black

106 notes · View notes

cosmicbash · 3 years

Text

I'm hesitant to post this, because??? Honestly?? I'm not 100% sure I haven't already posted it. I was perusing my Google docs trying to relabel stuff as posted and such to better organize and found this, which @lemon-coke and me both can't figure out if I ever posted. So.

Better to repost it and give you all something to reread then not post it all I assume.

Sorry!

It starts out as a misunderstanding, of course, because how else would their relationship begin?

A series of short tentative chats that somehow blossom into a full on dinner together, Colson sweating and more anxious than he's ever been in his life. It just doesn't seem real, that not only could he be mending this feud with his idol but also sitting across from him at some fancy restaurant table learning Eminem eats his steaks well done like some child. And laughing about it.

He's actually laughing. With his idol, his rival, his highschool crush. Long legs kicking out under the table at his own bad jokes, Em half smirking back at him. Their feet brushing one too many times for the color to leave his cheeks even after he's done giggling.

By the time Colson is talking Em into splitting some crazy good looking chocolate cake he actually feels better than he has in years. Since before the beef. So of course something has to go wrong. It really would have to be a dream for things not to sour.

He wants to pretend the first few flirty comments are in his head. That Em reaching across the table to roughly rub some chocolate off his cheek is a Detroit thing. But by the time they're finished eating and waiting for the check Colson's creeping suspicion has turned into full on alarm bells blaring. There's just no way to excuse the nervous looks or Em's almost hesitant invitation up to his hotel room.

It feels like a slap to the face. Everything suddenly makes sense. Why they're eating in the other rapper's hotel, why Em is even speaking to him. None of this is to repair their relationship or end the beef. It's all just some poorly hidden buttering up before Em asks him to get down on his knees.

Colson should blow up. He should just lash out and throw his fist into Em's face. Storm out and flag down the valet. He's not some escort that the rapper can rent for the night and feed a fancy dinner to.

But there's that guilty feeling that has settled into the pit of his stomach. The one that's been there since he first lashed out and ruined everything with his diss track, the comments about Hailey, his childish bitching in interviews. It's only doubled since they first sat down to eat. Every muffled chuckle and weakly hidden smile from the older man digging that pit deeper and deeper. Showing him what he carelessly threw away in some desperate grab for attention.

It's got a small voice in the back of Colson's head warning him how if he says no and storms out he's just doing the same thing all over again, cutting Em out of his life. This time possibly forever.

So Colson bites his tongue and nods. His fingers anxiously climbing up into his hair to help hide the guilty look he knows must be on his face when he stutters out a "y-yeah, yeah, sure."

The genuine smile Em flashes back at him at his agreement just feels like a knife being jammed next to the shovel.

How can the man look so fucking blissful about something that feels like borderline blackmail?

But Em does. He looks stunned, downright flustered even at first at his response. Then happy. A happy that isn't hidden by some fake cough or behind a delicate yet strong looking hand for once. It gives Colson something precious to hold onto in the sea of uncomfortable and nasty emotions twisting up his stomach while the older rapper pays.

The knot just twists itself up tighter once they're in the elevator, his silence thankfully brushed off as nervousness by Em. The almost shy glance of steely blue eyes his way making him feel so small while buttons are pressed. Usually Colson would blame this kind of nausea on the ride itself, but for once his phobia of the small metal deathtraps is actually being overpowered. A new fear worming its way through his guts as each floor number blinks to life.

He doesn't want to freak out. To run away, but hes too goddamn sober for this. Avoiding smoking and turning down the offer of wine at dinner just to try and impress his idol was threatening to be his downfall. If he'd known Em was going to show such little respect and consideration to his being like this he would have lit a fat one up right there at the table. Hell, maybe that would have changed the older man's mind about propositioning him in the first place. Surely a druggie asshole was less appealing to make drop to their knees instead of his current carefully put together primped and meek self.

"Only a few more floors. Don't go green on me just yet Kelly."

Colson didn't know whether to take the playful nudge as comforting or creepy. Maybe, a little flattering? If Em had actually looked into him enough to learn about his problem with elevators and the man just wasn't guessing off the apparent discolor of his face that is.

"Y-yeah."

Imagining Eminem of all people actually following his interviews or caring about his personal life that much felt like a pipe dream though.

Outside of the next 20 minutes or however long it took for the bastard to get his rocks off he highly doubted Em would put much thought into his existence at all. Which would be fair. After all the shit he's said and done he really doesn't deserve the time of day from his idol.

A ding and the elevator doors were opening. Colson's legs feeling numb beneath him when he finally lets go of the railing in the elevator to stumble forward. Thankful that Em's focus was on digging his room's keycard out of his wallet and not his clumsy steps. Each one bringing them closer and closer to their destination, making the whole situation so vividly real he couldn't help but panic again. The other man's forced small talk about how he "Doesn't usually book the penthouse suite-" falling on deaf ears.

It’s ironic, how often he had dreamed for this exact scenario. For Eminem to be leading him up to some fancy high end hotel room, promising to shower him fully in his attention and gaze. Only now, with his dream coming true right before his eyes he can’t help but feel bittersweet about the heated gaze holding him frozen just outside the door. Em’s final offer for him to back down before they both step through the threshold clear as day in the look.

The twist in his gut tells Colson to take it, to just spin around on his heel and run away with his tail tucked between his legs. Accept he’s too much of a coward and too full of himself to actually mend their beef.

But the desperate need he feels for forgiveness and absolvement pushes Colson forward instead. Sheer will alone giving him the confidence to twirl his idols hoodie strings around his fingers to drag Em inside with him. The loud beat of his heart completely smothering the other man’s flustered outburst.

Just like in church the blonde finds himself on his knees not too long after entering. Mouth open and hands clasped together, ready to ask for forgiveness. Except this god he’s praying to is running it’s fingers through his hair, and there’s a stiff cock separating his palms. A chorus of curses and “Holy fuck, K-Kelly just wait a second, shit, your tongue is-“ tickling his ears instead of hymns.

He’s never sucked a cock before, and it’s embarrassing how quickly he finds himself choking. But Colson doesn’t give up, even when his jaw starts to ache and the grip on his hair grows a bit too tight. His discomfort doesn’t matter here. He just needs to make Em happy, earn the forgiveness he doesn’t deserve.

“Can I- fuck, can I fuck your face?” Both of the older rapper’s palms are holding his bangs away from his face, tilting his head back just enough to force their eyes to meet. The shame in his chest doubles but so does the surprising tightness in his jeans when he sees the uncharacteristic flush to Em’s cheeks.

He isn’t experienced, the smart thing to do would be pull off and admit that. He’s seen first hand how disastrous things can go but his head bobs in a yes anyway. Eyes already starting to water from how the action jabs the other rappers cock right against his gag reflex.

A low groan is all the warning he gets before Em’s fingers are knotting in his hair, forcing his head down to meet the thrust of strong hips. Stuffing that hard dick down his throat so fast it burns and his hands can’t help but flail, helplessly grabbing onto the meat of the older rapper’s thighs through his sweats. Unable to even steal another gasp of air before it happens again. Em’s hips pistoning forward to fuck his mouth like some cheap replaceable toy.

Even after he gags and gurgles spit the rapper doesn’t stop.

The harsh pants of praise and encouragement burning his ears just as hotly as the tears in his eyes. “Ah, so good. So fucking good baby, the best, ah-“

Colson doesn’t know what’s worse, how quickly his heart skips at the surprise tern of endearment or how pathetically his cock jerks in his underwear. Not that he has much time to think on it with how Em abruptly forces his face right down to the bone, soft and scratchy pubes tickling his nose. Startling him before the other man’s blowing his load, Colson’s eyes widening and nails cutting deeply into Em’s legs while he chokes. There’s too much, even with his throat reflexively swallowing it still fills up his mouth and bursts out the sides. Dripping down his chin and out onto his shirt when Em finally pulls him off.

It’s salty, and thick. Nothing like the eggnog Rook’s joked to him it tastes like. There’s nothing sweet about this thick cream, even if the lightheaded feeling he’s got from milking it out still makes him feel drunk.

“Shit. I wanna take a picture.“ Em’s palm is tilting his head back again, dragging his glassy eyes up away from the twitching spit slick cock in front of him. Thumb forcing his tongue down flat to flash what he can only imagine has to be a white mess before the hand in his hair is fumbling out a phone. “Can I?”

He almost wants to laugh at how the brunette doesn’t even wait for his answer before there is the unmistakable flash of a phone light temporarily blinding him. A curse and then another two, these ones at least allowing him the chance to shut his eyes tightly.

The shame within him is boiling, burning through his veins like lava and making his heart drop down into his stomach.

“So pretty-“ Em’s fingers are releasing his tongue and jaw to rake through his bangs yet again. Exposing his face even though Colson wants nothing more than to hide. A stifled sob tearing at his aching throat while he swallows what he can inside his mouth without completely gagging.

He can’t cry. That would ruin the mood wouldn't it? And if it doesn't, Colson doesn't know how he would handle having Em laugh at his tears. The almost soft demeanor and shy quality to his tone is all thats keeping the blonde from running away as it is.

The shuffle of shoes and curl of strong fingers pulling him up startles Colson's eyes back open. Lashes fluttering to blink away the brief flash of wetness that's blurred his vision before he realizes he's being kissed. That Em's palms are cupping his jaw yet again, helping him to his feet.

It's scratchy, and softer than he expects. Not that he was expecting Eminem to be kissing him in the first place, but the man doesn't relent. Just keeps kissing him, even after he's grown to his full height and the angle of their heads has switched. Em's tongue snaking its way inside his mouth while they stumble back further into the room. Until Colson's head is feeling fuzzy and his knees weak, the cushioned crash of his body hitting a mattress barely felt.

It feels wrong when Em's hands smooth up over his chest and down inside his jeans. The uncontrollable kick of his hips up into a tight hand around his cock almost blasphemous. There's no reason for Em to even be bothering with touching him there, he doesn't deserve it. But the rapper is sucking and nibbling along his neck, up into his ear to whisper a dozen filthy praises and compliments. None of them possibly true.

"So pretty-" "Perfect-" "Wanted to touch you for so long-"

"Stop-" Colson's hands feel shaky as they drag his idols face back up to meet his in a messy kiss. Breath tight while he tries to speak between pecks. "Just- fuck, just hurry-"

When he winds up on his stomach some point into the night, Em's too big cock pressing hard against his entrance he can't help but cry out. The pitiful fist he shoves between his own teeth doing nothing to stifle the sound.

It hurts, more than the thin fingers he'd taken only moments prior. But not as much as the soothing shushes and affectionate run of hands through his hair.

#and yeah #i kinda stole the formatting metalheadkells uses for their tumblr posts #i seriously forgot i had more options than just bold or italics #🥴🥴🥴#forgive meee #emgk #i hope if you have read it you at least all enjoyed it #and if not #the same #😭😭#prompts

24 notes · View notes

bonegender · 3 years

Text

Nighthawks

This is for the @countdowntotwinpeaks WONDERFULXSTRANGE Secret Exchange! This fic specifically was made for @cerealninjakat who asked for Dale Cooper and Laura Palmer having coffee together. They have a feeling they met before, or maybe they haven't. If you would like to see the original fic in its original color block formatting, there is a link to the doc HERE

CONTENT WARNINGS: CSA mention, Underage Sex mention, Main Character Death Implied, Timeline Divergence, Body Horror, Psychological Horror

The smell of coffee was pungent, and stinging. That acidic aroma which rose from an industrial maker practically took over the entire diner. As he stood in the breezeway, Cooper relished in the scent so familiar, so calming and inviting. He allowed himself to get lost in the way it mingled with the undercurrent of a greasy spoon breakfast. The rich, sharp scent of roasted beans mellowed out with the introduction of butter, eggs, toast and bacon. Beyond that was the wispy trails of cigarettes gone by that clung to the nostrils. It was utterly invigorating. This was the thing he looked forward to the most when waking up; a nice hot meal and hopefully, a good cup of coffee.

Dale Cooper returned to himself after his momentary journey on the Smell Express, and realized that he had been standing in the entrance of the diner for a little bit longer than he anticipated. He excused himself, pressing further on into the establishment, eager to find a seat. His stomach whined, just as eager to be filled with the sensory journey he had gotten lost in just moments ago. He knew how good it would feel to have a stomach full of America’s Finest, especially after a long night of work. He deserved it, he told himself. All he had to do was just find himself a seat.

Judging by the morning rush, that was a job easier said than done. All of the booths had been taken up, understandably, by families and couples. There were a few like himself that simply wanted some time alone; to distance themselves from the rest of the patrons. There were times, however, that he couldn’t help but feel guilty for taking a whole booth as a single occupant, but Cooper always had an excuse at the ready. No one could say he wasn’t waiting for someone. No one could say whether or not that someone never arrived, and therefore left him to enjoy his meal all alone. Regardless, there would be no reason for such excuses that morning, it seemed. He would just have to see if there was a seat at the bar.

Miraculously, there was. Sitting all by her lonesome was a girl - no, a young woman - of at most eight-teen years of age. She sat, cross-legged, painted nails tapping the surface of the diner bar-top as she mulled over the colorful menu full of delicious pictures of food. Her golden blonde hair curled around her face and shoulders, almost creating a makeshift halo around her head. Lost in her thoughts, she twirled her index finger in her locks only to tuck some of her strands of hair behind her right ear. She knew she wanted a cup of coffee since it was in the morning just before school, but she was having a hard time deciding what, and if, she actually wanted something to eat. The buzz from last night still clung to her insides, and the burn in her nose could be felt all the way to the back of her throat.

It was then that she noticed someone approaching her. Laura turned her head, bringing her torso with it as she looked at the oncoming presence. The motion caused her hair to sway, knocking it loose from the ear she had just pinned it back with. Her blue eyes locked onto the man and in an instant what hackles she was about to raise softened. This man wasn’t too bad to look at, and his smile could beat the sun out in a competition for the brightest thing that morning. She adjusted her posture, leaning back a little and offering her own smile in return.

“Good morning.” She said, voice slightly raspy from just having woken up not too long ago.

“Good morning to you, miss.” He said in return, voice smooth and dark like a hot cup of coffee.

“Laura.” She insisted, tucking her hair back behind her ear from where it had fallen out, “My name is Laura.”

“Dale Cooper.” He said, placing his hand on the empty bar stool beside her, “Laura, is it alright if I sit next to you?”

“Sure thing Mr. Cooper.” And with that, Dale Cooper sat next to Laura Palmer at the diner bar. Something about it felt strange, yet familiar. It was almost dreamlike the way their exchange had went. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why, but there was something disquieting about their meeting. Perhaps it was the shift in her body language, or the way she fidgeted with the hemline of her tweed skirt.

“It’s Agent Cooper, actually.” He spoke up, pulling his eyes away from her kneecaps. He reached inside of his comically large trenchcoat to pull out his official badge, “Special Agent Dale Cooper, at your service.”

It took everything in Laura’s body to keep her from letting out a laugh. Special Agent? Was this guy really part of the FBI? A very real look of ‘oh shit’ graced her eyebrows as he actually produced a badge and identification. He offered it to her, and as she took it in her hands to feel it over and look at the picture, Dale took the opportunity to sit down and make himself comfortable. Laura studied the photo and sure enough the overgrown boy scout was set right there next to her. Despite her best efforts, she did let out something of a breath of laughter as she handed back his badge.

“Very nice to meet you, Mr. Special Agent.” Cooper laughed. What a nice laugh it was, thought Laura. A laugh that made you want to put your walls down. A laugh that felt like a childhood friend.

The two patrons settled in together at the diner bartop. Cooper took off his oversized overcoat and folded it gently so he could tuck it onto his lap for safe keeping. He looked far more professional with that silly thing off, Laura mused to herself. The way his suit was tailored perfectly to his shape almost made him look like a cartoon depiction of an FBI agent. A true Man In Black, with slicked back hair and serious brows. Well, mostly serious. Agent Cooper’s brow was a bit furrowed as he stared at the menu, but otherwise this man didn’t look like he could hurt a fly.

That, or a very vulnerable teenage girl.

“What makes you so special, Special Agent?” Laura probed, placing her manicured hands flat on her menu.

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you, Laura.” Cooper said rather matter-of-factly. He then flagged down a member of the waitstaff, ordering a coffee to buy himself more time with the menu, “But what I can tell you is that it’s very special.” A mischievous grin smoothed along his lips, and that alone was good enough for Laura. At least for now.

Beyond his smile however, the special agent felt that persistent air of uncertainty. Did he know her from somewhere? Was she a missing persons case? He tried to get a better look at her without pointedly staring, but that was a rather difficult feat when you were mere inches from another person. His dark brown eyes watched as Laura brought her gentle, delicate, and soft hands around the slightly yellowed ceramic coffee mug. He followed the movement from the bartop, watching almost in slow motion as the white touched the healthy pink of her lips, which was topped with a thin veneer of lip gloss.

The air is heavy with the must of ancient, blood-red curtains. It almost suffocates. Were it not for the grand expanse of zig-zag, black and white flooring, the room would for sure be practically inhabitable. He swallows. He grips the arms of a black velvet arm chair. He squints from the harsh, unyielding light that surrounds him. There is music in the air. A saxophone breaks out against the stifling aura in an attempt to rouse him. Where is he?

A woman sits across from him. Blonde. Beautiful. Bewildering. He knows her. She knows him. Like a ghost, she crosses the floor to embrace him. Her lips: red. Her touch: gentle and familiar. An old friend. She smells of a perfume older than her. He closes his eyes as their lips meet.

The two of them stared at each other, confused. Something had just happened that they had no control over. What was that just now? They asked each other the question with only their eyes. Was it real?

Whatever it was, Laura kind of liked it. Maybe they were just thinking the same thing? Maybe he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. Her cheeks flushed with color as she remembered the touch from just moments ago. This wouldn’t be the first time she had made a bad decision with an older man, and at least this one seemed much nicer than the others.

Cooper on the other hand turned away. He closed his eyes as he focused on the smell of coffee and the din of restaurant chatter. He gripped the fabric of his trousers, trying to remember the heavy air from that place so strange. Was it a vision? Why had Laura been there? What made them act that way? At this point he knew she was much too young for him to be sharing such intimate touches with her. He knew that she was thinking about this all in an inappropriate light. He had been there, in her shoes, when he was younger. Hot, young, eager to make stupid decisions just to feel something. Eager to mess with others' lives to take back some sense of control.

They were never really in control, were they?

“Hey, it’s okay.” Laura spoke, thus breaking the tension between them ever so slightly. Her smile took the spot of the brightest thing in the room, her eyes soft and understanding, “I get stared at by tons of guys. I’m kind of used to it by now.” It was true. Laura knew she was beautiful. She got compliments all the time on her looks, her hair, her smile. It was not a wonder how she became prom queen. Everyone in the town seemed to love her, or at the very least envy her. She wasn’t quite sure why anyone would envy her, but then again no one really knew who she was. No one in the town, save for those she dealt with, really knew what kind of girl she was.

Please, she thought, please like me. You’re one of the few people I want to like me.

Cooper dared to look at her once again, the shame of images from moments past still lingering on his mind and on his lips. His dark brows furrowed, mouth drawing to a stern line as he gingerly shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” He started, looking her square in the eye. “I don’t know what came over me. My behavior was inappropriate for someone your age, and someone my age should know better.” The agent looked around the diner, hoping that maybe there was another place he could move to. He knew what just happened between them was a faux pas, and perhaps the only way to make up for that was to put some distance between them. It wasn’t her fault, none of this was, but there was something awfully wrong about this whole interaction. He still couldn’t shake the feeling of the lingering premonition. Was it a premonition?

Laura’s stomach practically lurched. Had she done something wrong? There was no shame in looking at someone beautiful, right? Whatever happened moments ago was okay so long as she liked it, right? So long as she actually wanted it? As Cooper looked away, she bit her bottom lip with anxiety. He was going to leave her. She desperately wanted him to stay. For whatever reason, her heart ached at the very thought of having to sit by herself again. Fueled by the sinking feeling of rejection, the young woman reached out to the Special Agent. Her slender hand wrapped neatly around the wrist of his left hand and in an instant the diner disappeared.

The roles are reversed. His hand is around her wrist. Beneath her fingernail lies an important clue. She’s lying down on a table, naked and cold. The light above them flickers and Sheriff Harry Truman sits to her right. Where was she? Why couldn’t she move? Why couldn’t she breathe? She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to be anywhere but here.

Suddenly, it’s very dark. She’s walking through the woods by herself, late at night. She’s crying, and alone. Was she crying from her vision before? Or was it something yet to come? All she knows is that she wants to go home. She wants to be in her bed, safe from the situation she found herself in. How was she supposed to know where anything was, let alone her home?

“We’re going home.” He says, his face full of determination. She doesn’t understand, but he must know. Cooper’s hand is outstretched, begging for her to take it. The tips of his fingers touch the inside of her palm.

Just as she is about to give up, she sees him. Special Agent Dale Cooper. What was he doing here? Why did he look so old? Why did she trust him?

She screams.

It took a few seconds for them to realize that they were both standing. Tears were streaming down Laura’s face as she finally came to her senses. Her hands instinctively flexed, curling and unfurling before taking her palms to wipe away the remaining tears from her cheeks. Her cheeks were now flushed with embarrassment as she knew they were making complete fools of themselves in front of so many people. What had gotten into her? Why was she acting like this? What were those visions? Tentatively, Laura dared to look around at the other people that shared the restaurant with them.

No one seemed to notice. Not a single other patron stopped to look, make a snide comment or step in to intervene. These people were a soulless audience, looking everywhere but at them. For a moment, she was awestruck. Surely they had heard her scream. Surely they were concerned for a pretty girl crying. Surely…

It was then that Laura began to understand.

Cooper had a sneaking suspicion that something was awry, but this for sure solidified it. He tried to remember some of the things Gordon and Jefferies had told him about situations like this. Shared visions weren’t unheard of, and perhaps that was what he had felt from her. Maybe she was a special case like he was? Did she dream like he did? The diner around him became nothing more than a backdrop as all of his attention shifted to making sure Laura stayed grounded.

“It’s okay Laura.” He spoke with certainty, “You’re not there anymore. You’re here, in this diner with me.” Cooper offered a reaffirming smile, but he was met with a look of soft incredulity. There were more tears budding in the corners of her uncertain blue eyes, and her brows furrowed in a way he couldn’t quite discern. He reached out for her, hoping to give her something solid to hold onto. Just as his hands made contact, a look of realization and acceptance flashed on Laura’s young face.

Once again they are in that room with the red curtains. Laura Palmer sits in the black velvet chair with Dale Cooper at her side. She understands. Everything has become illuminated as they stare into each other's eyes. Above them is an angel, dressed in white. Her face is serene.

Laughter fills the room. Tears fall onto a black dress.

“I have to go now.”

The words hit Dale like a bullet to the gut. He felt sadness, guilt, uncertainty, but most of all he felt panic. Something was ending. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, but it was a bitter end to something far beyond just their brief meeting here. He tried to say something, anything, but before any of the words could come out he felt the warm caress of her arms around him. Laura tucked her head against his shoulder, squeezing him with love and fear. He could feel her arms shaking, trying to hold on to him. He folded, blanketing her in the smell of aftershave and dry cleaning.

They wept.

“Please,” Cooper begged, his voice fragile and afraid, “Please, don’t go.” He tried to hold on to her but despite his best effort she slipped from his grasp. Laura, once such a young looking girl pretending to be grown, was now someone with knowledge beyond her years, beyond comprehension. Once again, she smiled at Cooper and he could feel his heart shatter like a mug against the floor.

“I’m going to be late.” She told him.

The sounds of the diner started to fade away. The clinking of plates, subtle conversations and echoing songs from the jukebox became nothing more than faint memories as Dale could do nothing but watch her go. Her golden blonde hair flowed behind her almost as if she were floating instead of walking. It was as if raindrops were falling onto sidewalk chalk, washing away the bright colors and erasing what they had created. Dale realized far too late that he was at the end of a dream. What questions he had now were given answers. A dream. The faceless patrons of the diner smiled at him as they continued to melt into his subconscious.

Dale took a final look back at where he and Laura had been seated. As expected, he saw both of their mugs sitting abandoned. Just as Cooper felt himself slip completely from the dream, a featureless waitress set down a plate of food he never ordered. Viscous, yellow, pallid and abhorrent, the image mocked him as he fell from the scene.

Special Agent Dale Cooper woke, staring at his dark ceiling. He stayed that way for several minutes, holding onto the slurry of emotions stirring in his gut. Laura. He repeated her name in his mind, eager not to forget it. She had to be important.

Instinctively, he reached over to his bedside table, fishing around for something he knew was there. The plastic felt comfortable in his hand. With a heavy sigh, he brought the tape recorder close to his face so that he could drearily recall his journey through the realm of sleep. With a simple click of a button, the mechanical whir of the tape touched his ears in the early morning silence.

“Diane," He croaked, voice peeling open the door to his tired mind, "It's early in the morning, February the 24th. I just had the strangest dream.”

#wonderfulxstrange #cerealninjakat #twin peaks #dale cooper #laura palmer #i wanted to do fancy color blocking but #apparently interacting between mobile and PC obliterates my formatting and moves shit around #SO #you get this instead.#the original google doc has color blocking for certain parts but whatever aslkdjlkfj

10 notes · View notes

votederpycausemufins · 3 years

Text

Well, so far Grifter’s just been playing around. Now he’s going to start showing just what he can do and why he was locked up by the helsmits. ‘spoiler’: it involves tearing up the DSMP

@petrichormeraki and @helleborusangel (plz it’s been a week and a half, where are youuuuuu i worry)

“Where are you going?” Techno asked as Tommy put on his borrowed gear. It had still been left in a nearby chest when it was taken off, so it was easy to find.

“I’m going to help Grian.” Tommy answered, adjusting his elytra. “The more help he gets, the better.”

“What makes you think you can help? Or at least help out better than me.”

Tommy half shrugged, more focused on getting ready. “I probably can’t help better than you, but Grian’s out there so he can’t make a portal back to Hermitcraft. Meanwhile you managed to get there on your own. If Grifter is as bad as he sounds, we’ll need more help. I mean, we had some trouble taking you down, and he’s apparently worse.”

“So I’m just supposed to leave and get help?”

Tommy stood up, all his gear ready. “Yeah. One thing I learned from the hermits is that even if you’re good at one thing, you should try other shit. You’re good at combat, so now it’s time to try something else.”

“That’s stupid.” Techno huffed.

“Yeah, but it’s still a good lesson.”

Grum wriggled and escaped Techno’s arms. “I’m helping to!”

“No, you’re still damaged and also a fucking kid.” Tommy argued, but that just made Grum cross his arms.

“I have an advanced combat program plus a ‘chat’ that should be able to assist me. If Techno is getting help, he doesn’t need help getting help. So I’m helping my dad!”

Tommy tried to complain, but Techno stopped him. “I saw him in action. I’m pretty sure he’s better than you. Besides, you’re still technically a kid too.”

“”Hey! I’m a big man!”

“Sure, sure. Here.” Techno pulled out a netherite sword and axe, then handed them to Grum. “I’d give you my armor too, but I doubt it fits.”

“Someone’s got a favorite nephew~”

“Oh shut up.”

“We’ve got a plan! Let’s go!” Grum grabbed Tommy’s arm and started dragging him away in the direction Grian had gone. They only got a few steps before the ground shook from a large explosion. It made Tommy freeze before making sure Grum and Techno were okay, glad to see they were fine. At least, as fine as they had been.

“Okay maybe this is a bad idea.” Tommy tried once more to stop Grum, but the bot just pushed forward.

“Then I’ll just ask for an upper hand on the way there. But you are not changing my mind.” The bot crossed his arms, making Tommy sigh.

“Fine, but try not to get killed. You’re the one that can revive people.”

“If that is a concern, then here.” Grum tossed the revival book to Techno. “Keep that with you, and should I die and not be able to respawn, it can be used on me. The same goes for anyone else who may end up with the same problem.”

Techno hesitated before answering. “Alright fine, just don’t get Phil killed.”

“Not planning on it.” Tommy replied for Grum, and then the two of them were off.

Grifter twirled a finger and a spike of bedrock erupted from the ground, joining the others he had created. He frowned at how much energy it was taking, but at the very least, though it was slow, he was making a wall around the place. “There’s no way he can ignore this, right? Ugh, who am I kidding, I need Tommy first. Well, that should at least draw everyone else nearby so I should start to divide and conquer.”

Grifter pulled his wings in close, letting him start diving towards the ground. He kept his eyes out for anyone and then smiled as something caught his eye. Double checking that he still had enough magic disguising himself, Grifter changed his course and aimed for the elder avian he had spotted.

“Now let’s see, would he call him Dadza? Hmm, unlikely. Just Dad? Or maybe Phil? Nah, let’s just go with… Dad!” Grifter landed, making sure to be panting. “Are you alright? I saw those spikes appearing, and then saw you and-”

“I’m fine, just got split up from everyone else when one showed up underneath us. Tommy and Techno are with your kid, so you should probably go after them.”

Grifter held in a smile. Now he could find Tommy. “Where are they?”

“Bad’s mansion. At least assuming the place is still standing. It doesn’t look like these things have gotten that far but-”

“They haven’t, don’t worry!” Grifter smiled sweetly. “And thank you very much for the information! I’ll come back for you later I think!”

Before Phil could react, Grifter’s illusion disappeared as he used the magic to make a sphere of bedrock, trapping the avian within it. The Listener almost flew away right then, but then snapped his fingers. “There, now you shouldn’t try to get out.”

Inside the sphere, four end crystals had appeared. With the close quarters, Phil could barely move without setting one of them off, so he hugged the wall of his new prison, doing his best not to move.

Grifter flew up into the air and started looking around. “Mansion, mansion. Ugh, nothing looks mansion-y enough. Why can’t they make things bigger h- oh hello~” Grifter spotted the bright pink metal of Tommy’s sword from a mile away. Looking around more, it didn’t look like Grian was anywhere nearby, but he didn’t quite have the magic to spend yet. Instead, he circled high in the sky, watching the pair below him until he could disguise himself again.

It took a could of minutes, but finally Grifter had enough magic. The act he would put on would be easy of course, he just needed to act like a concerned parent, and he had seen Wile do that plenty. “What are you two doing?!”

“We came to help you out G.” Tommy replied, having nearly fallen over at the avian’s sudden arrival. “I would've thought you’d have gotten further.”

“He’s been using a lot of magic. There are these giant spikes of bedrock everywhere. I can’t get around safely with them showing up.” Grifter turned to look at Grum. “And what about you? You’re still hurt. You-” He didn’t have time to react as a sword sliced into him, hitting his arm.

“You’ll have to try better than that.” Grumbot looked up, revealing his screen which was picturing the symbol of the watchers, making Grifter take a step back. “You’ve still got scarlet wings. They’d be purple at this point.”

Grifter glanced back. His wings looked like Grian’s but he hadn’t realized that he ever changed how they look. Well, now that he needed the extra magic, Grifter let the illusion fade away. “Hmm, good eye. Well, I’ll just have to make this quick.”

The ground rumbled, and while he couldn’t make another spike, a sheet of bedrock divided Tommy and Eyes, splitting them up. Grifter grabbed Tommy’s arm and pulled him closer, ready to fly away with him when the bedrock broke. “Tsk, right. Watchers use bedrock too.”

“Watchers? So then-” Tommy started looking around for Grian, but instead, all he saw was Grumbot. “Wait, but- And he-? But how?”

“Who cares! I don’t need him.” Grifter shrugged, putting a sword to Tommy’s neck. “Let me leave and he won’t d-”

Eyes just threw a piece of bedrock at Grifter. “You want him alive, you’re not gonna kill him.”

Grifter frowned for a moment before smiling. “And you either don’t have magic or can’t use it. Hah, I didn’t even need to threaten him.” He spread his wings and held onto Tommy, Eyes running to try and grab them. But before the bot could reach them, Grifter was back in the air.

“Holy fuck! No no no no! This is so much worse than when Grian does it!”

“Oh shut up, I’m not going to drop you. Unless you keep struggling that is.” After Grifter had said that, Tommy froze up, leaving the Listener laughing. “Sooo… I’m hoping Nightmare will want to come after you, but others might as well. Who should I be looking out for?”

“Like I’d fucking tell yo- AHHHH!” Tommy started to say before he was falling, Grifter having let go of him. He was getting close to the ground when he was caught again, Grifter giving a chirping laugh. “Don’t fucking do that!”

“Then tell me what I want to know. It’s not that hard to comply, is it?” Grifter asked, threatening to drop Tommy again. “Oh, but that does remind me, I already took care of Dadza, or at least the one here.”

“You killed Phil?!” Tommy shouted. He would attack Grifter if he didn’t want to fall again.”

“Oh no, if he dies, it’s his own fault. I just trapped him for a bit.” Grifter explained, dipping just enough in their flight for the point of a bedrock spike to hit Tommy’s leg, making it bleed and Grifter laugh. “There, now you won’t be running away.”

“You’re a goddamn fucking bitch.”

“I know!” Grifter replied cheerily, a big smile on his face. “Oh look, we’re here!”

Tommy looked down to see Eret’s castle which was in the middle of the wall of bedrock spikes. The flag on top had been torn down and in place of the flagpole was some sort of giant redstone machine.

They landed nearby, Tommy being dropped before they touched down. It wasn’t enough of a fall to kill him, but it still hurt. Getting up also wasn’t the best because he couldn’t put much pressure on his leg, and even though he should be regening health, nothing was healing.

“You look tired.” Tommy recognized what was almost Mumbo’s voice. “Do you need help down to the throne?”

“I think your arms are the best throne for me~” Tommy tried not to gag at the flirting. “But I wouldn’t mind it. He’ll probably only believe what he sees with his own eyes and Tommy is definitely not Theseus. And I used so much magic making the wall.” Grifter pouted before Sense picked him up.

“Spare a little bit for a cuff for him and I can carry you down. The former king is currently occupying the cell I made. He’s much tougher than he looks. Related to Jhost of all people, or whatever he’s called here.”

Grifter frowned. “Aww, but that means we can’t kill him. That’s not fair.” He crossed his arms. “Okay, fine. I can still do that.” And then with a quick wave of his hand, some chains appeared and Tommy's good leg was trapped. He watched as the hels pair left, leaving him to try and break the metal, but he had no luck.

As soon as Grifter had gotten into the air with Tommy, Eyes started running behind them. They were slowly losing ground due to the uneven terrain tripping them up and the fact that Grifter had a clear path from flying. Eventually they lost the pair when they tripped and fell into a large crater, likely a creeper hole.

Eyes winced, holding the new crack on their body. It had formed right over the trident holes since they were already a weak point, and now that place was even more vulnerable. “Ah crap. Oh buzz off, last I checked it wasn’t a-” Eyes sharply inhaled as they stood up. “Fine, if you want to complain, you can come out here. Who cares if it isn’t healthy? We are currently in a life or death situation.” Eyes pulled themselves out of the hole, looking around. “He made a backup of the world, and those spikes in the distance definitely weren’t there a week ago. Grifter’s gonna destroy this place. We need to get Tommy and everyone else out of here before that happens. ...Oh shut up! I’m the one in charge of the Watcher powers. Well now I do know!!!”

Eyes huffed and kept walking towards the spikes. They were still a good number of chunks away, but at the very least they were good landmarks. They still had some redstone and quartz in their pockets to snack on, so running for a while wouldn’t be too much of an issue. It was still a little tough to get through the terrain. The closer they got to the spikes, the rougher it was. The place was already littered with bits of destruction, but there was more debris from the spikes bursting out of the ground, scattering dirt and rocks around the landscape. It also didn’t help that the spikes were casting large shadows. While the darkness didn’t reach them at this point, Eyes still had to be wary of creepers or any mobs that spawned with helmets.

They slowed down to munch on some quartz, using that as an opportunity to look at their surrounding. They were getting closer to the spikes, likely close enough they wouldn’t need to stop again before reaching them. Looking for a way through the spikes would be difficult though. Theoretically they could be climbed or have a gap between them, but that could still be difficult. And then breaking through wouldn’t be an option. The wall that split them from Tommy hadn’t even been a full block thick and had been tough to break. There was no way they could get through that much.

When Eyes got to the shadows, they froze from seeing just how many monsters were around. There was a larger group than should be normal. Normally the natural world magic that spawned monsters split equally around occupants of the world. If there were so many here, that meant plenty of people had died and didn’t respawn, which was unlikely, the only death message they had seen so far was for Eret. The other option was there were more people around, and likely people who could help get Tommy back.

Fighting through the monsters, Eyes looked around for who else could be around. When moving in one direction there were less monsters around, so they moved in the opposite direction, glad to see it was closer to the spikes and closer to their destination.

After a bit of searching, Eyes finally spotted someone. They sliced down a nearby skeleton before shouting to the other person and running towards them. “Heeeeey! Over here! Do you need some-” Eyes tried to jump over something, but midway through the jump, they started buffering, causing them to fall on their face as they landed.

The person they called out to immediately came over, fighting off the nearby mobs. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?”

“Uh… yeah.” Grum took the person’s hand and got up. “Um, I need some help. It’s about Tommy.”

Grian carefully snuck through the castle that was the center of all the magic. He was pretty sure it was a trap, there was no way someone like him would make something so obvious and not make it a trap, but it wasn’t like he had a better place to look.

There was also the problem of not knowing where he was going. Technically he could use some Watcher magic for the answer, but that wasn’t really an option. He hadn’t been a Watcher long before joining Hermitcraft, meaning he was inexperienced. It was why using his magic often left him with side effects other than just being tired. But his hels copy was using so much, it was obvious he was better trained.

Grian took a few more hesitant steps forward before stopping from a sound. It didn’t sound like someone walking or flying, but it did at the very least sound like someone was moving around. He took out a sword and slowly moved towards the noise, ready to attack whoever was there, when a head popped out of a newly made hole in the wall with a small oink.

The avian was stunned, not really moving as the baby ziglin pulled himself the rest of the way out of the hole before turning to look back inside it. A few minutes later, another head popped out as someone squeezed their way through the hole.

Grian ducked back when they started looking around. He of course recognized Tubbo since he was Tommy’s friend, but he wasn’t sure if Grifter had done anything to them. He had already seen what happened to Grum as well as that enderman hybrid. What was his name?

“Okay Ranboo, the coast is clear. Send it through.” Tubbo spoke into the hole, and a moment later, an ender pearl was thrown through, teleporting the enderman hybrid inside. Once he was in, Tubbo reached his arm through. “Okay, we’re through, take my hand and I’ll pull you in.”

Grian’s eyes widened as he watched Grum get pulled through the hole. His grip on his sword tightened as he could immediately tell the bot was in a worse condition than the last time he had seen him. He wanted to rush in there, but Grum was too close to the others as well as the ziglin, so he couldn’t really attack without harming the kids.

“Okay, so, I’m not sure where he’s gonna be. Does this place have a prison or something?” Grum asked, looking between Tubbo and Ranboo.

“Not as far as I’m aware.” Tubbo answered. “You probably would know better than me. I mean, I’ve technically been gone a month or something.”

“And my memory is too bad.” Ranboo replied with a shrug.

“Alright, I guess we’re going in blind…” Grum spoke timidly. “Do you at least sort of know what the place is like? I never really even got a chance to visit it.”

Tubbo looked around before pointing in Grian’s direction. “I think maybe we go this way?”

“No, entrance is that way.” Grian spoke up. He was almost completely sure that the group was safe, though he was still concerned about Grum having more injuries. That being said, the bot quickly ran over and gave him a hug when he showed himself. “Are you doing okay Grum?”

“Well, I got a little more hurt on the way here while fighting monsters, but I’m okay.”

“Yeah, none of us are regenerating health naturally.” Ranboo spoke up. “And I’ve tried to give him a golden apple, but he’s refused them.”

“Because I can’t eat them! I’m a robot, not a person.”

Grian frowned. “You are too a person. Just a robotic one. Doc and Biffa are people too.”

“I guess you’re right. It’s just different…”

Grian picked Grum up in his arms. “Well, we can talk about that more when you’re not in danger.” Then he looked up at the rest of the group. “Now, why are you all here?”

“Apparently Grum and Tommy were on their way to find and help you, but the fake you kidnapped him.” Tubbo explained, which made Grian angry.

“That’s going to make things tougher if he’s got a hostage. Especially if it’s Tommy.” Grian ruffled his wings and shifted Grum so he could rub his chin. “I would say split up to cover more ground, but Grifter seems to be a powerful magic user. I mean, he’s the one who summoned those spikes. It also looks like he brought Sense along and from what Jrum’s told me, he’s almost as dangerous with his redstone. If any of us ran into even one of them alone, it would be bad news, so we’ll have to stick together.”

The rest of the group nodded and Grian started to lead them down the hall. With a whole group, he could probably use a little bit of magic, at least to see where Tommy was. It wouldn’t tell him how to get there, but a general idea of which direction to go would help. For a moment, another pair of eyes appeared, and then the world faded slightly, only the outlines of objects showing themselves. Grian looked around, not seeing Tommy, but then he looked up.

“It looks like Tommy’s on the roof or the floor below it. It looks like Sense is nearby while Grifter is elsewhere. There’s also a fourth person around, but they’re not someone I recognize.”

“Well then, let’s start heading up.” Ranboo said, Tubbo nodding as he picked up Michael, and then the group continued on to find Tommy.

#hermit!tommy au #hermit!tommy #tommyinnit #technoblade #grumbot #hels!grian #hels!mumbo #philza #DID!Grum #yesss i can officially tag it #grian #watcher!grian #grian xelqua #avian!Grian #michael_beloved #tubbo #ranboo

21 notes · View notes

missmitchieg · 3 years

Text

Saving Nick - Ch 1

Julie grinned as she put down the lip gloss she just applied to her lips, laughing as she looked back to see the guys hyper wrestling on the couch. “Guys, remember we’re on in, like, seven minutes.“ She reminded them, standing from her stool when the stage manager knocked, saying Flynn was there. “Come in!“ She said, bracing herself for the inevitable over-excited-Flynn-sprint-and-tackle-hug.

Julie and the guys looked up with matching smiles when Flynn strutted into their dressing room, looking fabulous as ever in her scarlet leather jacket, white crop top, black skinny jeans, scarlet ankle boots and dazzling smile, running to hug Julie.

“Julie, my girl!“ She said excitedly and giggled. “I just took a selfie with Jack and Alex from All Time Low! And they complimented my outfit!“ She said pointing to her jacket. “Jack said I’m super cool!“

“Good for you. I’ve been watching the guys hyper wrestle while getting ready for the show.“ Julie giggled, snorting when she saw Luke fall off the table, bringing Alex and Reggie down with him.

“And you look amazing!“ Flynn told her, and Julie smiled and twirled, showing off her iridescent purple dress and white knee high boots.

“Thanks, Flynn. The guys all said hi, by the way.“ Julie said after the guys stopped their wrestling and got up, stampeding toward the girls and saying excited “hi”’s to Flynn, Alex complimenting her outfit.

“Hey, guys!“ Flynn waved at them with a grin, flipping her hair back.

“Alex says he likes that jacket.“ Julie said for Alex. “I agree.“

“Thanks, Alex!“ Flynn smiled toward the direction of thin air Julie pointed at and struck a cute pose before noticing the bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos sitting on the table, taking it for herself. She sat down on the orange sofa, crossing her ankles as she watched Julie talk to the guys.

She looked up when the stage manager knocked and reminded her it was five minutes to stage and took a deep, nervous breath, smiling when Luke walked toward her, clad in a white sleeveless muscle tee with a black leather vest over it, black jeans and sneakers.

“What’cha looking so nervous for, superstar? You know you’re gonna kill it out there. You’re gonna slay.” He said with a smile and tucked a curl behind her ear, cupping her cheek in his hand.

Julie let out a little giggle at that and placed her hand over Luke’s, shy butterflies joining the anxious butterflies fluttering all around her stomach. “I just have this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach, like something’s wrong. I don’t know what it is. I can‘t explain it.“ She complained, placing her other hand over her stomach.

“You worry too much, Jules. You’re gonna stress yourself sick again.“ Flynn told her and shook her head fondly, biting into a cheeto. “You need to focus on the fact that you and the guys are about to rock the socks off your biggest crowd yet!“ She grinned.

“Yeah, what Flynn said. I’m sure everything is fine, Jules. It’s just nerves.” Reggie said, trying to reassure her. “It’ll go away once we’re on stage." He grinned, ever the happy-go-lucky, positive little puppy with an infectious smile and a sparkle in his eyes.

“Reggie’s right. I get the nerves really bad, too, no matter how many times we go out there and kill it.” Alex told her, walking up behind her to check his hair in the mirror. “I’m a nervous mess right now. That’s probably what’s messing with you.“ He suggested, giving her an apologetic smile.

It made sense, when Julie thought about it. She and the guys had seemed to develop a sort of emotional osmosis with each other in the time they had gotten to know and grown to love each other like family. If she was excited, the guys were excited and almost vibrating with energy. If Reggie was sad, she was upset until they all went to the studio to mess around on their instruments and just have a good time. If Alex was anxious, she was a mess, pacing a hole in the floor until Carlos complained that she was freaking him out. If Luke was angry, she was seething until the problem had been fixed or forgotten.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s probably fine.“ Julie nodded and opened her water bottle to take a sip. “Don’t worry about it, Lexi. We’ll both get over it once we start playing.“ She said and fixed her curls, smiling at her reflection when Luke and Alex placed their heads on her shoulders. “I love you guys.“

“We love you, too.“ Reggie grinned, standing on Alex’s other side. “You know we do.“

“You ready to slay out there, Boss?“ Luke grinned when they were told it was time to go on stage, making Julie’s smile widen.

“Yeah. I’m ready, boys.” She nodded.

“Good. Now let’s go out there and rock that stage.“ Reggie grinned and pulled his best friends into a band circle and put a hand in.

Julie grinned and put her hand over his, Luke and Alex’s hands joining quickly.

“Legends!”

Julie grinned as the boys followed her and the stage manager to the stage, excited grins on their faces. She stepped toward her keyboard, as the guys watched her with matching grins. She shook away her nerves and turned her attention to the audience, giving a quick hello and a speech about staying yourself and standing tall.

She started to play the opening to Edge Of Great, singing the lyrics as a few fans sang along with her. She smiled and gave a slight nod at a girl in the crowd she knew from school, almost letting out a giggle when she saw the Julie And The Phantoms t shirt she was wearing. Definitely Flynn’s doing. She’d have to remember to get a picture and hug her later.

She turned her attention to the guys as they poofed in when she reached the chorus, trying not to let too much amusement show when the audience gasped in surprise and cheered as they saw the guys pop up in front of them. She grabbed a hold of her microphone and stood from the keyboard, dancing around the stage. She was careful not to bump into Luke or Reggie since they were corporeal, or at least they were to her, now, since they were still going with the hologram fib.

Julie grinned and twirled a curl around her finger, dancing with Reggie and grinning at Alex. She laughed fondly as Reggie stuck his tongue out at her like an annoying brother, turning to skip toward Luke for his solo. She smiled and mouthed along to his verse as he grinned cheekily at her, making her shake her head and laugh. She blushed as his smile turned more sincere and sang with him, scrunching her nose.

Luke scrunched his nose back at Julie and winked at her, keeping his eyes on her as they sang another chorus. He bounced a little excitedly as a fan threw a Pride flag on stage and Julie scurried to grab it, content to just watch her wave the flag around as she belted out lyrics they wrote together about letting your colors shine and being who you are. He glanced back at Alex with a grin, laughing softly at the elated look on his face. He smiled as he and Julie locked eyes again for the outro of the song, singing softly to each other as the fans erupted in applause.

Julie smiled as the crowd started to chant “Bright, Bright, Bright” loudly, putting her hands on her hips as she looked around at the guys from her spot at the keyboard, everyone nodding at the suggestion of playing Bright. She nodded and started to play the intro to Bright, smiling as she felt the guys’ eyes on her. She turned to smile at them as she sang about fighting through the dark to make it home, because in a way, the guys were her home and she knew they felt the same about her. They had told her as much recently, in the middle of a band cuddle when Julie felt like everyone could use a break from rehearsal to relax.

She grinned and giggled a little as she sang the chorus and gripped her microphone in her hand, walking toward Luke much like she did the first time they performed the song together. She pointed to Luke and herself as she sang ‘you and I‘, scrunching her nose fondly again when Luke blushed at the gesture. When she remembered they weren’t alone, she looked up and felt her smile falter as she spotted Nick in the front row of the crowd, just sort of standing there.

She frowned a little at the- Displeased? Bothered? Angry? Whatever the look was on his face, before getting through the rest of the song. She shook it off and sang through the rest of their set, hoping it wasn’t too obvious to the crowd that she was suddenly anxious. But she knew the guys could tell. She knew they’d worry about it and ask about it. She would just have to cross that bridge when she got to it. She met and took pictures with a few fans after the show, smiling and hugging everyone who expressed gratitude for her waving Pride flags and singing about acceptance and love. After many, many hugs and pictures, Julie and Carlos sat in the back of the car while Ray drove home, scream-singing their favorite songs all the way.

"Ok, ok. Drive's over. We're home." Ray announced as the car slowed to a stop. "I don't feel like cooking.” He said honestly and laughed. “Who's up for pizza?" Julie and Carlos both raised a hand immediately, making Ray chuckle and nod. "Pizza it is." Everyone piled out of the car, still buzzing with the excitement and high from performing and watching Julie perform.

"Hey, I'll be inside in a minute, papi. I just need to talk to the guys. I'll be really fast." She said and ran straight to the studio, yanking the doors open. "Guys. We have a problem." She said as she walked in to see the light switched on already. She twiddled her fingers as she watched Alex pace, her anxiety only growing as she watched Luke's knee bounce at a million miles an hour and Reggie stare into space with his arms crossed.

“Julie?“ Luke looked up and frowned, getting up from the couch. “What’s going on? Is everything ok? Are you ok?“ He asked in a slightly frantic voice as he walked toward her and the guys followed closely.

She tilted her head as she watched them and was a little torn between feeling bad for worrying them and feeling touched that they cared so much for her. She bit her lip and took a breath, nodding quickly. "I'm fine, but I think something’s wrong with Nick.“

#julie and the phantoms #julie molina #Flynn #luke patterson #alex molina #reggie molina #nick danforth evans #ray molina #jatp fanfic

24 notes · View notes

impulsive-astrophile · 4 years

Note

prompt: mulder eats at olive garden w scully and puts breadsticks in his pockets to go home

Chelsea thank you so much for this prompt it’s so fucking funny. I cracked myself up picturing the scenes for this fic. Hope you enjoy <3

You can read it on Ao3 or below the cut :)

“Mulder, can you pass me the breadsti- oh.” Scully glances over to find the basket empty. Sighing, she flags down a waiter.

When she asks if he could please bring them some more breadsticks, the boy raises both eyebrows, eyes going wide. “O-okay, ma’am,” he answers. He shoots them fearful looks the entire walk to the kitchen.

Scully doesn’t blame him; this will be the fifth basket for the table. The poor kid’s probably telling the kitchen staff about the crazy woman at table two who won’t stop ordering breadsticks, wondering where they’re all going.

Frankly, Scully is wondering the same thing.

Well, not exactly. She knows it’s Mulder who’s responsible; he’d told her about his love of Olive Garden breadsticks a couple of months into their partnership - they’d stopped at one, and he’d explained it after having eaten a seemingly impossible amount while Scully looked on in bemusement.

So, she knows it’s him. She’s just not sure how he’s doing it; every time she looks over at him, he always has a reasonable amount on his plate - not nearly enough to have them going through the breadsticks so fast.

Finally, she breaks. “Okay, Mulder. How are you doing it?”

“Doing what?” He asks innocently.

“How are you eating the breadsticks so fast I can’t see it?” Scully wants to know.

He smiles at her, twirling pasta on his fork. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Scully,” he answers with a glint in his eyes.

“Mulder-” she cuts herself off as the waiter returns with their breadsticks. She offers him a reassuring smile, but she can still see fear in his eyes as he walks away.

Scully turns back to Mulder, scrutinizing him; he gives her his best ‘butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth’ look in return and she sighs, knowing she won’t get anything from him right now.

They go through two more baskets before they leave. She makes Mulder ask for them.

Their coats are on and they’re almost outside when they’re stopped by the manager, flanked by their waiter and a waitress Scully had seen around.

“That’s him, sir,” the waitress says to the manager. “I saw him doing it.”

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to empty your pockets,” the manager says.

“Woah, haven’t you ever heard of civil liberties? No unreasonable search and seizure,” Mulder protests, hands laid protectively over the pockets in question.

“Sir,” the manager says firmly, advancing on Mulder now.

At Scully’s Look, Mulder relents, turning his pockets out to reveal the missing breadsticks and watching forlornly as they fall to the ground. Scully watches, too, counting at least 50 as they pile at her partner’s feet. She marvels, not for the first time, at the way men’s pockets seem to be able to hold so much.

The waitress lets out a little gasp, and their waiter is now looking at Mulder in fear instead of Scully. Even the manager looks shocked.

Scully tugs on Mulder’s arm, pulling him along as the manager tells him politely to “please never come back sir, we have your photo on our wall and all of our employees will be watching for you.”

“Mulder,” she begins when they get to the car, mortified, “why?”

“They’re good,” Mulder says, climbing into the passenger seat still looking a little sad.

“You can make them at home, Mulder,” Scully tells him as she pulls the driver’s seat forward as far as it will go.

“But they’re just not the same!” Mulder insists.

Scully sighs, shaking her head as she backs them out carefully.

She doesn’t say anything else for a while, knowing that he’ll probably do this again and scolding him won’t make a difference.

Then she gets a whiff of garlic.

Scully looks over to find Mulder munching happily on a breadstick. “Mulder, where on earth were you hiding that?”

Mulder grins at her. “Guess.”

“I will not.” Scully’s not even sure if she wants to know now. “Just tell me.”

She smacks him when he winks and waggles his eyebrows at her.

#Ask #Prompt #Amazing mutuals #My writing #Mini fic #Msr #The X-Files #Crack #This is pure crack #This was fun to write so I hope it's fun to read!

94 notes · View notes

the-cult-of-russo · 3 years

Text

Push and Pull (Part 8)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

Warnings: cursing, Canon description of violence, murder and blood.

-----------

Daphne liked to think she was a pretty good PI. The investigation part of it she seemed to be great at. She'd gotten herself a reputation for it. But her people skills still needed some work, Foggy hadn't been wrong about that one. And it was times like this where she doubted herself with her job and wondered how she even got hired in the first place. She was running around her apartment, shimmying into her jeans and tugging a grey long sleeve tee over her head. She'd woken up at 10am to see 5 missed calls from Mr Lee. The client she forgot even existed the past few days. After snooping in his son’s house and coming to the conclusion something was off, other than him fucking his own father’s wife, she forgot to move the meeting up to warn him. With everything Matt and Italian related and then Foggy turning up trying to be friends, she'd forgotten about the old man.

Their original meeting had been the day before and obviously she hadn't turned up. Now she was stuffing all her picture evidence in her backpack before flying out her door. She felt bad that she'd kept him waiting, especially when she had a bad feeling about his son. She was even considering waving the fee of her investigation for being such a shitty person and forgetting about him. Her hair was shoved up into a messy bun perched high on her head and she didn't have time to dwell on it as she flagged down a cab. Before long she was being dropped off outside a fancy looking house. She made him pull over a few houses down, always being a little precautious and protecting her clients confidentiality.

"Could you wait for me?" She asked, grabbing the bills from her jeans pocket and passing it to him. With a grunt and nod as a reply, she got out and walked to the house owned by Mr Lee.

It was a large modern looking house and looked far more expensive than anything she'd ever hope to own. But when she got to the front door she noticed it was open slightly and she got an ice cold feeling of dread slip down her spine.

"Mr Lee?" She called out hesitantly. There was no answer but something in her gut was firing alarm bells off left and right in her brain. With a shaky breath she pushed open the door with a creak. It was quiet, eerily so, as she stepped into a grand looking foyer. She glanced to her left, an archway that led to what looked to be some kind of office and library. She made her way over calling his name again with no answer. As soon as she stepped foot inside the office, her blood ran cold. There crumpled in a heap on the floor was Mr Lee. Very dead and very much covered in a ridiculous amount of blood.

She'd been in a lot of situations but she hadn't ever seen a dead body before. The amount of blood made bile rise in her throat and panic seized her limbs. She knew something was off about this and she could have warned him. He was dead because of her and the guilt hit her like a tonne of bricks. A sudden creak of the floorboards behind her had her whipping around, coming face to face with Mr Lee's son, Keiran. He was covered in his father's blood, looking rumpled and crazed with a sinister grin. A glint drew her eyes to his right hand to see the knife he'd used on his own father glaring back at her. He took a step towards her and she took one back. She didn't know if she'd be able to get out of this one and her heart was beating so fast she was surprised it didn't implode.

"What do we have here? The PI, I presume? How unfortunate that you came," his voice was smooth, no faltering or anything betraying what he had done. That scared her more than anything.

"What do you want?" She bit out, edging to the side a little. Maybe if she could buy some time she'd be able to make a dash for it.

"Well you see, we have a problem. I know you've been snooping around. Daddy dearest told me before… well, you know," he smirked cruelly at her. Her eyes flit to the lifeless body on the floor and her throat tightened. Mr Lee was a good man. He didn't deserve this. She should have warned him.

"If I let you go, you have a lot of evidence that puts me in a bad situation. So you can see what my issue is here, right? I mean, I can't let you go," he laughed and it was the sound of a crazy person. She knew there would be no reasoning with him.

He moved quicker than she expected and she ducked, dodging him. But then his large hand grabbed a fistful of the back of her shirt and threw her into the wall. She cried out in pain and suddenly he was standing right in front of her, his knife pointing at her. He still wore the creepy smile painted on his lips and she tried to appear confident despite her trembling hands.

"Where's your phone?" He demanded. She clenched her jaw, eyes glancing between his maniac face and the large knife pointed at her. She hated how it reminded her of what happened with the Russians and how much that had messed her up.

"My front left pocket," she replied reluctantly. She had no choice but to play along until she could try and figure a way out of this. She cringed as he stuffed his hand in her pocket, invading her personal space. He looked at it, then her, and with a smirk he dropped it into a glass of water on the desk with a plop.

"You really should've minded your own business," he mused softly, still seemingly not perturbed by anything about the whole thing. He took a step back, twirling the knife carelessly as he did. Once his eyes went to look back to his kill, no doubt to admire it, she made a mad dash for the door. He was on her in seconds though. It was a flurry of movements as she tried to dodge his advances and it left slices on both her arms from trying to protect herself. They weren't deep and she tried to ignore them. She kicked his knee, and he went down but on his way he swiped wide and caught her stomach on the side. She cried out as the pain ripped through her. That one hurt like a bitch and would definitely need stitches. If she even got out of this. She lost track of the milder slices he got in as she tried to fight him off with graceless punches and kicks. She wasn't a trained fighter but she was ferocious when she needed to be.

She managed to disarm him and the knife clattered to the floor. But it only seemed to make him angier as he tackled her to the floor. He was much heavier than her and his large hands wrapped around her delicate throat making her gasp for air. She bucked wildly trying to free herself but he just gripped harder. She wanted to tell him he was a monster for what he'd done. That she hoped he'd rot in hell. But no words came out with her desperate choking gasps as he strangled her. Her right hand darted to the side, desperately trying to find something, anything, to help her. Something cold and hard brushed against her fingertips and she tried to reach it. Her vision was spotting now and she wouldn't have much longer. The blood loss wasn't helping either. But she refused to die by this asshole's hands.

She managed to grab what felt like a statue and hit him over the head with it. He fell off her, out cold. She scrambled to sit up, big heaving gasps of air filling her now burning lungs. Her bloodied fingers touched her throat gingerly and she winced. She stood on shaky feet, the mix of blood loss and being strangled had her disoriented and dizzy. She shot him a fleeting look and he was still breathing, just knocked out. She couldn't work out if she was disappointed or not. The shock set in then and she looked at Mr Lee. His end would have been brutal and this asshole no doubt dragged it out. It was all her fault. She could have stopped it. A stifled sob left her lips as she stumbled out of the house. Calling the cops didn't even pass her mind just then, she didn’t have a phone anymore anyway. She needed to get help before she died from blood loss. Then this struggle would have been for nothing. She made her way uneasily to the cab and got in.

"Holy shit, lady! You need to get to the hospital!" The cab driver exclaimed as he glanced at her. She was bleeding from the numerous cuts to her arms and bleeding profusely from the big gash on her lower belly.

"No hospitals. Just drive," she rasped with a broken voice. She didn't know where to go really but there was only one person in mind and he owed her anyway. It was still morning but it was Saturday so she just hoped that he wasn't busy. She rattled off Matt’s address before leaning heavily against the window as her breathing got more shallow. She only knew his address because she'd bothered Brett for it not long ago. He and Foggy knew where she lived, she felt like it was only fair.

The cab driver refused to take any more money after dropping her off. He'd offered to help her inside but she waved him away. The stairs were hard to manage in the state she was in. Spots danced in her vision and she was losing more and more blood by the minute. She was in a state of shock completely now. Both physical and emotional shock. Her chest was heaving with broken sobs and not for her own injuries. She leaned heavily against the wall, no doubt leaving a trail of blood behind her but she was in no state to even consider that. She was lucky no one saw the state she was in as she made her way to the door she was after.

Before she had a chance to raise her weak hand to knock, it swung open anyway. If she was in her right mind she'd consider how weird it was to see Matt in sweats and a vest for once with nothing obscuring his face.

"Daphne? Jesus christ, what happened?" He sounded a mix of shock and panic but she didn't reply in words. Just the strangled sound of a sob she was trying to keep to herself. She swayed on her feet and he was quick to wrap an arm around her, leading her to his sofa. He carefully sat her down and disappeared from her vision for a moment. Everything sounded like it was underwater and she kept getting flashes of Mr Lee's dead body. She didn't realise her whole body was shaking.

The feel of two large hands on either side of her face made her jump, wide startled eyes glancing at the face in front of her.

"Just breathe, you're gonna be okay," Matt soothed. She blinked at him wondering why he sounded so far away. Why did she feel like her body was floating? She kept zoning in and out, only picking up on Matt muttering curse words and murmuring to her that she was safe.

"I need to take this off to help. Is that okay?" He asked softly like he was scared to spook her. She blinked at him dumbly before nodding. He was careful in removing her shirt and she could feel his unseeing eyes surveying the damage. He seemed to settle on the deep gash on her lower left side of her stomach.

"I need to stitch this, lay down for me," he instructed with a sigh. She tried to lay down but winced. Her whole body was hurting in one way or another. She felt like a train had run her over. He eased her on her back and she stared at the ceiling as she went in and out of it. Everything was so fuzzy and her ears were ringing. She was already in so much pain that it didn't even faze her when he cleaned her wound and started on stitching it.

"Was it the Italians?" He bit out. She just about registered the angry tick in his jaw when she looked at him. Her eyes squeezed shut as she shook her head and inhaled a shaky breath. She felt her lower lip tremble when she thought of Mr Lee. Matt seemed to register she wasn't up for answering questions yet and he continued to fix her up and clean her wounds. When he was done, he helped her back into her sliced up shirt and sat her up.

"Can… can I use your phone?" She rasped. Her voice was raw and she cleared her throat a little. He nodded tensely, passing over his cell phone. Her hands were trembling though and she felt a wave of hopelessness at not even managing a simple task. She actually found herself relieved when Matt’s large hand rested over hers before delicately taking the phone back.

"Who do you need to call?" He asked softly.

"Brett," she replied simply. She needed to tell him what happened and she hoped the asshole would still be there so they could arrest him.

She heard the beeping as Matt dialled and then held it to her ear. Brett picked up after a few rings.

"Murdock, everything alright?" He asked, no doubt since the call was coming from Matt’s phone.

"Brett, it's Daphne," she hated how bad her voice sounded from the abuse it took. The shock was wearing off and now she was left with guilt that weighed far too heavy on her and complete hopelessness.

"Daphne, what's wrong?" He asked, concerned. It didn't take a genius to figure out something was wrong with how her voice sounded. She quickly rattled off the address to Mr Lee's house to him.

"He's a client of mine. His son was sleeping with his wife. I had a meeting with him today and… he's dead. His son killed him. I think for the insurance money. I have pictures of the evidence I found about the life insurance and cheating," she stated unemotionally. She was starting to shut down, to keep herself together by a thread.

"And you're sure the son was the one that killed him?" Brett asked, unsure. Ever the cop.

"He attacked me when I turned up, so yeah I'm sure. You need to be careful. He's got a big knife and he's fucking insane," she bit out. She noticed Matt clenching and unclenching his other fist as she spoke.

"Oh shit. Are you at the hospital?" Brett asked. She heard him calling to some of the other cops, telling them to roll out.

"No but I'm getting fixed up. I'll come by tomorrow and give a statement. Drop off what I have," she replied monotonously.

"Alright. Your evidence might be what we need to nail this guy. We'll head out now and keep you updated," Brett said firmly.

"Okay. My phone's broke, should still be at the house. Asshole put it in a glass of water so I couldn't call the cops," she huffed.

"Alright, you with Murdock?" He asked, the sound of a car door shutting on his end of the phone. She couldn't really deny it since she was using his phone.

"Yeah," she said softly.

"Alright. I'll call him when I got news. Be safe, Daphne," with that he hung up and Matt moved the phone from her.

She felt a swirl of emotions surging inside of her after stuffing them down for the phone call. She could feel herself about to snap and she wished she was somewhere alone where she could cry and deal with this in private. She wasn't so lucky.

"Daphne…" Matt said softly. Her breathing hitched, lower lip wobbling a little as she glared at her boots that were splattered with blood.

"This is my fault," she whispered brokenly.

"No, it's not," he insisted, scooting closer to her from where he was perched on the coffee table.

"Yes it is! You don't get it! I knew. I fucking knew something was wrong, Matt. I checked out this guy's apartment days ago and when I saw the life insurance stuff… I had a bad feeling and I was gonna warn Mr Lee. But I've been so wrapped up in so much bullshit lately that I forgot about him. I forgot he even existed! What kind of person does that?! If I warned him he'd still be alive right now!" she was boarding on hysterical the more she spoke.

Her chest constricted making her feel like she couldn't breathe. When Matt’s large hands took her own she clung to them like they were the only thing keeping her from floating away.

"You said yourself, this guy's insane. Even if you warned Mr Lee, this guy would find a way. There's nothing you could have done. But what you can do is help put him behind bars. You've got evidence and he attacked you. Use this to get justice for Mr Lee," he murmured patiently. She tried to let his words calm her a little. She knew he was mostly right. Even if she told Mr Lee it was only a matter of time before it happened anyway. And she learnt from her interactions that Mr Lee loved his son despite knowing he was screwing his wife behind his back. She was sure he either wouldn't have believed her or chose to be in denial anyway. But it still hurt her. Knowing she hadn't done enough.

She sniffled, still gripping his hands as she tried to calm herself down. When she glanced at his face, his unseeing eyes were on her face, a patient and sympathetic look on it.

"Trust me, I know about guilt. Any time someone I let get away hurts someone else, it kills me inside. But one day you have to realise you can't change the past. The what ifs only hurt you," he sighed. She wondered what it must be like for him. Experiencing this kind of guilt all the time. She didn't know how he coped. She took her hands back, wiping the tears that had stained her face.

"Sorry. I'm just… being dramatic," she snorted mirthlessly.

"No, you're not. You've been through something traumatic, you have every right to feel the way you do. But I want you to know that it's not your fault," he implored. She nodded, inhaling a deep breath to help ground her. She really hadn't expected today to go the way it did.

With the shock wearing off, the pain was really setting in followed by a large helping of exhaustion.

"I should uh… probably head home," she yawned with a wince. He just quirked a brow at her from where he sat.

"You can stay here and rest. Just try and sleep most of it off and tomorrow you can talk to Brett," he left no room for argument and it reminded her very much of when he turned up to her apartment with a gunshot wound.

"Guess we're even now," she smirked weakly. He chuckled with a shake of his head.

"Let's not make it a habit," he grinned. He stood up and took the first aid kit with him. It wasn't even lunch time yet but she knew she should heed his advice. She'd been through a lot and she needed to rest to help heal. She lay back down carefully, hoping to just have a short nap for a while. As she started dozing off she felt a light blanket being delicately placed on top of her. Her pain started to fade into nothing as she slipped off to sleep.

#matt murdock x oc #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock #daredevil x oc #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil

13 notes · View notes

brelione · 4 years

Note

Ooh congrats on 200 girl!! Can I request something with Rafe please where he slowly falls in love with the reader every time she comes round to tutor Wheezie but she's not interested because of what she's seen and heard about him (non cannon Rafe pls, him just being a rich stuck up dick) so he puts in the effort to win her over and is determined to show her a different side to him!?

Sorry,this sucks lol.

Rafe Cameron,the bitchy,rich,straight white male.He was privileged as all hell and could get away with anything because of his daddy’s money.He did get away with anything,including beating the living hell out of multiple pogues.He was probably the person you hated most in the world and yet you were in his house,being payed with his daddy’s money to tutor his younger sister.You tried not to judge people based on their families but part of you wanted to decline the offer to tutor Wheezie and spit in Ward Cameron’s face.

But of course thats not what happened,you needed money to live and Ward had offered a ridiculous amount.It was your third study session,common core math books and Type Two Writing for Students opened on the table,piles of flashcards and worksheets flooding the marble.

Wheezie needed to go to the bathroom,meaning you were all alone when Rafe came along.Your fingers tightened around your pencil as you went through Wheezie’s first draft,wanting nothing more than to pierce the boys eyeball with the charcoal tip.He stared at you from across the kitchen,looking around with a confused expression. “What the fuck?’He asked.You rolled your eyes,ignoring him. “Who are you and why are you in my house?”He asked,his voice dripping with venom.Wheezie came out of the bathroom,glancing between the two of you. “Shes my tutor,chill.”She sighed,sitting across from you again.The boy glared at you,trying to hide his wonder.

He didnt really know who you were but he was sure he had seen you somewhere.His eyes were focused on your face,trying to figure out if he had seen you at a party or something. “What?”You asked,he shrugged,leaning against the counter and still staring at you.Then it clicked.

He had shown up to a boneyard party,just to be a fucking asshole.He had seen a girl hanging upside down from a tree,talking to JJ Maybank.He could see why he was interested in her,she looked pretty cute,arms crossed over her chest as she swung back and forth.He had always wondered who she was and why he had never seen her before.He thought about her every once in a while,trying to think of why he never saw her again.And here she was,sitting in his kitchen. “You’re a pogue?”He asked,squeezing his cup.You ignored him,tapping your pencil on a word and asking Wheezie what it said.

“Hey,i asked you a question.”He was closer this time,leaning against the table. “And I ignored you.”You answered,sending a glare his way.He chuckled,shaking his head. “Are you a pogue or not?”He asked.You sighed,looking his way. “Does it matter?Im trying to do my job and you’re being a pest,do you want Wheezie to fail all of her classes?”You asked.He rolled his eyes. “Oh,so you are a Pogue.What does a pogue know that I dont?”He asked Wheezie.You laughed,shaking your head. “We all know you only graduated because of your daddy’s money.You had like...what?A 2.0 gpa?”You teased,gripping your pencil tight.He bit on his lip staring down at you. “Oh,so what’s yours then?”He asked,watching as a smirk came across your face. “4.2,now fuck off.”You growled at him.

Something about the way you told him off completely freaked him out.Most people knew better,especially when they were in his house.He had a habit of sitting on the couch and watching you as you corrected Wheezie’s essays,telling her which words would be better for getting her message across.You would shoot him glares that made his heart beat quicken,making him nervous.Other times he’d see you smile at Wheezie’s progress,his heart beat quickening but for a different reason.As Wheezie put it,he was completely in love with you.He couldnt agree more but didnt want to admit it.He hadnt even talked to you since the first time he saw you.It wasnt until you were packing up your bag and dropped papers that he talked to you again.He had rushed to help you pick them up,handing them to you.

You thanked him quietly,rushing past him.He followed you to the door,working up his courage to talk. “So um...do you have a criminal record?”He asked.You turned,rasing your eyebrows. “Oh,so because im a pogue I have a criminal record?”You asked.He shook his head,mumbling. “No,no not what im saying at all im just trying to make conversation and like….i dont know i just thought it would be a cool question.”He played with his hands,following you outside. “I mean,yeah,I do.I wouldve fuckin gotten away with it too if I was a kook.”You sighed.He laughed nervously,hands shaking a little. “So...what did you do?”He asked.You grinned at the memory. “Vandalism,I used to go around and steal confederate flags and then paint rainbows on their houses.”You answered.He chuckled,nodding.

“So what did you do with them?The flags,I mean.”he tried to continue the conversation,following you down the driveway. “Burned them.”You answered,turning to look at him again. “Are you gonna follow me home,stalker?”You asked.He blushed,shaking his head. “Um...no,unless you want me too.”He offered.You shook your head,continuing your walk as he just stared at you,jumping up and down,joy washing over him now that he had talked to you without you looking disgusted.He had asked Wheezie to talk to you for him,making her confused. “Talk to her yourself.”She scrolled through her phone.He shook his head. “No,no she hates me I just need you to ask her about like...if shes single,what zodiac sign she likes,what she looks for in a guy.You know what i'm saying?”He asked.She smirked. “You like her!”She exclaimed.He shook his head. “No,im asking for a friend.Please just do this for me,okay?”He asked.She grinned. “So what do I get out of it?I could really go for McDonalds.”She grinned.

“So...what do you think about Zodiac signs?”She asked,writing down some dialogue ideas.You raised your eyebrows. “what?”You asked.She laughed,repeating herself. “Why are you asking?”You asked.She glanced over to Rafe in the living room,the boy twirling his fingers and encouraging her to keep asking questions. “I just think its important that I know.”She mentally face palmed herself. “Ok,Scorpios are superior and Virgos suck ass.”You answered.Rafe’s eyes widened.You had to have known that she was asking for him.You wouldnt have said that if you didnt know he was a virgo. “Ok….what about your ideal first date?”She asked.You laughed,shaking your head. “Keep working on your dialogue.”You told her.

Rafe tried.He really tried so hard.He knew that it was the fact that he was a kook that made you hate him so much.He tried to act more humble,less cocky and tried working on his manners.He went through Wheezie’s instagram followers to find you,cursing when he saw that your account was private. “Wheezie,let me see your phone.”He sighed nervously. “Why?”She asked. “I need to see (Y/N)’s instagram.”He explained,scrolling through your page.You posted pictures of sunsets,your dog and a couple of photos of you holding up peace signs and middle fingers.Your bio made him chuckle. “Fuck the patriarchy and fuck you too.”He went through who you followed,seeing a lot of fanpages and the official Harry Potter account.

That lead him to binge watch the Harry Potter movies,take the sorting hat quiz and order a Slytherin shirt.He purposely wore it when he knew you were coming over,walking into the kitchen.Your eyes fell onto his shirt,laughing. “Oh,of course you’re a slytherin.”You sighed.He grinned. “Wow,thanks.What house are you in?”He asked.He held a long conversation with you as you talked about how much you hate J.K Rowling and how Dobby didnt deserve what happened.He agreed with everything you said,loving the way your eyes lit up.The study session somehow turned into you and Rafe speaking about Draco while Wheezie grinned to herself.

He looked through every single post of yours,every single caption until he learned that you loved horror films.He learned your favorite one,putting it on when you came over.Wheezie didnt even need tutoring anymore,she just liked having you over and you still got payed.You had then become her babysitter because Rafe was deemed to irresponsible and Sarah had a social life. “Dude,are you watching (Y/F/H/M)?”You asked,hearing the dialogue.He nodded,letting you sit next to him to watch it. “I didnt know you liked horror movies.”You sighed,leaning back on the couch.He blushed. “Only this one.”He answered.

It took him three months of talking to you about Harry Potter and horror films for you to stop telling him off,cussing him out and giving him glares.He could feel himself falling for you more,seeing who you were when you werent angry or annoyed.He avoided The Cut,learning that maybe if he let go of his Pogue Beater reputation you’d eventually like him.He tried to be more open,to tell you about himself and have deep conversations with you.He answered your questions honestly,laying his trauma and issues bare and letting you ask questions about the worst sides of his life.He had cried in your arms a couple of times,becoming your friend.He had gotten buried deep in the Friend Zone but he was fine with that,knowing you didnt hate him anymore.You two would hang out all the time outside of babysitting Wheezie,he’d come down to the beach with you to have splash fights.

One night while you were at the beach,the area completely empty besides the two of you as you splashed cold water at eachother.He had pushed you into the water,your clothes,hair and skin becoming soaked.You jumped up,hugging him tight and getting him soaked too.He pulled away,grinning down at you.He didnt know why he thought it was a good idea,leaning down and kissing you.All the three months of feelings spilled out just then,his hands holding your waist tight.You didnt knew what to do,what to think,pulling away. “Um….so you just-what?”You huffed,trying to understand.His bottom lip trembled,his hands shaking. “I just….I dont know.”He mumbled,still holding you.You nodded,finger tracing his jaw. “So you dont know why you did that?”You asked.He looked out at the ocean,biting his lip. “Cause I like you...love you and I just thought….”He mumbled,trying to form words.You rolled your eyes,pulling him into another kiss. “Asshole.”You grinned,running a hand through his hair.

@sexytholland @28cnn @popcrone818 @fttayla @cherryobx @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @drewstarkeyobx @poguestyleskye @judayyyw @jjtheangel

111 notes · View notes

buckyodinson · 4 years

Text

Care for a Dance? (Agent Whiskey x fem!Reader)

Summary: You and Whiskey have feelings for each other, but neither of you have done anything about it. Perhaps a Statesman party can help the pair of you admit what you’re feeling.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: I have no idea if the Kingsman fandom is still active at all but I keep seeing pictures of Whiskey pop up everywhere (not that I’m complaining), and I got an idea for a fic and it just kinda happened? This takes place after Kingsman: The Golden Circle, and we’re just gonna ignore the fact that he was kinda a bad guy and got shoved into a meat grinder :)

The Statesmen were having a party at the distillery to celebrate a successful year in the alcohol market - and obviously the success of the agency, but as far as anyone outside the agency was concerned, this was just a distillery. The party was happening in the warehouse with all the barrels of the Statesmen’s famed drink lined against the walls. The warehouse was adorned with warm string lights, which gave it a rustic feel. It reminded you of a barn dance that kids sometimes have in middle school.

A night filled with dancing, fun and alcohol (naturally) was promised, and you were all encouraged to dress to the nines, knowing the following Monday you’d all be back to your denim or suits. Champ told you all the make the most of the fun, because it’d probably be a long while before you all had the chance to let loose again.

Lots of shareholders in the company were going to be there, as well as you and the rest of the Statesman agents. Even the Kingsmen were invited, and you were thrilled to see Eggsy and Harry again. Though you were more excited about having Tequila back for a short while. The distillery was a lot more quiet without the banter he always provided. You especially loved the way him and Whiskey would bicker (little did you know, their bickering was often over you). But most importantly, you’d see Whiskey himself. You tried not to fall for him, you really did, but it was to no avail. He was known to be a bit of a womanizer, but he was nothing but sweet around you. You hadn’t noticed, but since he took a liking to you, his days of bringing a new girl home every week were gone. You were looking forward to letting your hair down and having a few drinks with Whiskey and the others.

Whiskey wasn’t as excited about the night as you were. He would be happy to see Eggsy and Harry, sure, but he could do without having Tequila back. Truth be told, Whiskey had developed feelings for you during the years you’d worked together, and he’d never acted on them. You were a fair bit younger than him, and he was sure you didn’t feel the same. He bickered with Tequila a lot about you, because Tequila always seemed like he wanted to make a move on you.

While Whiskey didn’t think he was good enough for you, he certainly didn’t think Tequila was either. He wouldn’t admit to himself that he was jealous, but he just didn’t like the way Tequila looked at you… and spoke to you… and made little passing touches… okay, maybe he was a little jealous. But who could blame him? You were one of the highest ranking agents with the Statesmen, you were highly skilled and ridiculously attractive and a valuable asset to the agency. He wanted so desperately to be the one laying next you at night, whispering sweet nothings into you ear.

Once Tequila had left to join the Kingsmen, Whiskey felt a little better about testing the waters around you. He would ramp up the flirting, laying pet names on you all day long. You blushed profusely whenever he called you doll, or angel, or sugar, or practically anything that wasn’t your real name or code name. You would give as good as you got, flirting back, complimenting him on his new hat or boots or just his general appearance. Once, when you and the others were at a bar, you were leaned against the bar next to him and you idly ran your finger down the bridge of his nose sweetly, and told him it was cute. You were a tad tipsy and immediately excused yourself to the bathroom, completely embarrassed about this action, but while you spent a minute composing yourself in the bathroom, Whiskey was at the bar blushing to himself and smiling softly at the compliment. He steeled himself when you returned though, and you carried on with your evening, both refusing to acknowledge what had happened.

He was one of the first of the agents to arrive at the warehouse for the party. Music hummed throughout the place and he took up a spot at the bar, waiting for you to arrive. Tonight was the night he’d finally man up and ask you out on a date. He twirled his glass nervously, running through hundreds of scenarios in his head. He was lost in his thoughts, and didn’t notice Tequila approaching him, until the man thumped him on the back.

“Whiskey! Looking good! How’ve you been?” He exclaimed loudly, with a smile on his face, pulling Whiskey in for a hug.

Whiskey gave him a few thumps on the back in return and pulled away, “Not too bad, Tequila. Nothing much has changed over here. How’s London treating you?”

“It’s going alright over there. The ladies are suckers for the accent, which is always nice. Plus, got myself a bit of a makeover.” He stepped back and Whiskey took in his appearance, noting that Tequila was wearing a full suit, which was an exceptional rarity. He also had a flat cap on, in replacement of his trademark Stetson. Whiskey gave him a curt nod in approval and Tequila finally propped himself up on a stool next to Whiskey.

He flagged the bartender and was given a drink immediately, and he took a sip before turning back to Whiskey, “Speaking of ladies, how’s my favourite little firecracker?”

He didn’t even have to say your name, but Whiskey’s jaw clenched, and that was all the answer that Tequila needed, “Still haven’t made a move then? She too upset about me leaving?” He pressed and could see he was winding Whiskey up.

“Haven’t found the right moment. Yet.” He spoke curtly and downed his drink, waving at the bartender for another. Tequila raised his hands in mock surrender, “Well, you’ve got no competition from me anymore, partner. Like I said, the girls back in London love me.”

The pair were joined by Harry and Eggsy, who they chatted with for a while. Whiskey couldn’t really concentrate on the conversation though, he was just waiting for you to turn up. His wish was granted only a few minutes later, when he saw you walk through the warehouse doors. You looked up at the string lights and smiled softly at them, before looking around and your gaze landing on Whiskey. Your smile widened and you made your way over to him, and he was floored by how stunning you looked. You were in an almost floor-length black dress, with a slit down one leg that came halfway up your thigh. The dress had a plunging neckline and long sleeves. You had very natural looking make-up on, and your hair looked as it did most days at work, kept back but with a few stray bits of hair framing your face. To Whiskey, though, you looked ethereal. He thought you always looked beautiful regardless of what you wore, but tonight you looked outstanding.

As you approached him, you noticed the way he drank in your appearance, and jokingly gave him a twirl, giggling as you did so - which made his heart flip in his chest. The way he looked at you made you blush (as it did most days, let’s be honest), and you couldn’t help but feel a little shy when you finally reached him.

“Darlin’, you look exquisite.” He marveled and pulled you into a tight embrace. You blushed even further at the compliment and buried your face into the crook of his neck before pulling away and taking in his appearance too.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, cowboy.” He still had his trademark Stetson on, but was wearing black trousers and a velvety black blazer. A little bow tie at the top of his white shirt set the outfit off perfectly. You straightened the bow tie absentmindedly, noticing it had gotten a little crooked from your hug.

“If you took that hat off, you’d look just like James Bond.” You smirked at him as your hand idly ran down the lapel of his blazer before dropping it to your side once more.

“Is that so?” He smirked right back at you, before flagging the bartender down for drinks for the both of you. You chatted idly for a minute or so before Tequila bounded over and enveloped you in a hug. You laughed as he span you around in the air, and you hit him on the back, making him put you back down on the ground.

“Look at you in your fancy little flat cap,” you tease, and Whiskey smirks into his glass. “London has changed you, Tequila.”

“I’m still little ol’ me, just a bit more dapper. Can’t get away with denim jackets as a Kingsman.” He still has a hand wrapped around you waist as he speaks to you, and Whiskey can’t help but notice. “You look great, Rum.”

“You look good too,” you wink up at him and elbow him in the side softly. “I trust you haven’t been missing us too much? I’m sure the ladies have been throwing themselves at your feet with that accent of yours.”

“Naturally,” He smirks and you roll your eyes. “I have missed you guys though. You oughta come to London sometime.”

“Sure thing.” You pat him on the arm and he goes away to catch up with some other agents and eventually starts dancing in the middle of the warehouse, making an impromptu dance floor, which other people begin to join.

You and Whiskey lean back against the bar and watch the scene unfold, laughing at Eggsy and Tequila making fools of themselves on the dance floor. Everyone is at least a little tipsy by now. You lean slightly into Whiskey’s side, and rest your head atop his shoulder. He can feel his heart hammering in his chest, and prays to god you can’t feel it (you can, but you don’t think much of it, not wanting to get your hopes up). The pair of you stay like this for a while in comfortable silence, just enjoying being in one another’s company.

A familiar song hums through the speakers and you abruptly drain your glass, put it down and stand away from the bar, grabbing his free hand, “Care for a dance?”

“I’m not much of a dancer, sugar.” He raises an eyebrow. You tug on his hand a little, but he doesn’t budge.

You pout a little but let go nonetheless, “Suit yourself!” You sway over to the dance floor where you’re welcomed with cheers from Eggsy and Tequila.

Whiskey curses himself mentally, missing your hand in his. He watches as Tequila spins you around the dance floor and the pair of you giggle, Eggsy laughing alongside you. He should’ve just gone with you, maybe that could’ve been his chance to make a move.

Oh I, I got a funny feelin’ when she walked in the room

And I, as I recall, it ended much too soon.

The lyrics of the song hit him in the face, and like you’d done only a minute earlier, he downed his drink and followed your path to the dance floor. Tequila and Eggsy saw him coming and both gave him a wink before moving away from you.

“Care for a dance, doll?” He spoke softly, and you whipped round to face him.

“Thought you weren’t much of a dancer, Jack.” You smiled softly as his hands found their way to your waist.

“I’m not, but I’d be an idiot to miss out on this. I’ve wanted you for so long, and tonight finally made me realise maybe you wanted me too. ” He leaned down to rest his forehead against yours.

You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face, and you placed your hands on either side of his neck. You swayed together for a moment before you leaned up and closed the gap between the pair of you, pressing your lips together. Whiskey immediately kissed you back, with passion, and you both pulled away when you heard your fellow agents cheering and hollering.

You both turned to look at the group gathered by the bar. Tequila was giving you a thumbs up, Eggsy was making an obscene gesture with his hands, and the rest of the agents raised their glasses at you and cheered again. You turned to face Jack again, and placed your hand on his cheek to bring his attention back to you before giggling. You repeated your action from months ago, running your finger down his nose. This time you saw the reaction it gained from the usually suave man in front of you. A blush crept up his neck and a shy smile adorned his features. You leaned up to peck the end of his nose and he laughed. Then you swept his Stetson off of his head and placed it on your own.

Then you moved back and ran your hands down his arms until your hands were entwined, and then you let him twirl you about the dance floor for a few more songs before you went back to the bar for more drinks. He kept a tight grip on your waist as you stood at the bar, and you could tell that being slotted into his side was going to become your new favourite place to be.

“I’m glad you finally admitted how you felt, Jack. It was getting a tad boring waiting for you to make a move.” You smirked up at him, with a hand at the nape of his neck, idly playing with his hair.

“You could’ve made a move yourself, princess.”

“Yeah, I could’ve. But you’re the one constantly laying on the pet names and suggestive comments. Only felt right to let you carry on charming me until you were ready to admit how you felt.” You leaned up to kiss him again.

“Sugar, you’re the one who called me cute all those months ago. Practically throwing yourself at me.” He joked against your lips as he pulled away.

You gasped and mocked offence, before giggling into his chest. “You are cute, I’ll give you that.”

“You’re much cuter, doll. Especially in my hat. Ravishing, even.” He could feel you smile against his chest.

“Is that so?” You echoed his earlier statement.

“Yes, ma’am. I’m wondering what you’d look like in only that, if I’m being honest with myself.” He smirked, but when you didn’t reply instantly, he wondered if he’d crossed a line.

Then you leaned back and looked up at him with a sultry look on your face, “Funny, I was just thinking the same about you and your bow tie. Wanna get out of here?”

“I’ve never wanted anything more, angel.” You kiss him once more and he lets you drag him out of the warehouse, only having enough time to catch Eggsy making the same sexual gesture as earlier, to which he replied with a middle finger.

#agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x reader #kingsman #kingsman: the golden circle #agent whiskey fic #agent whiskey imagine #agent whiskey x fem!reader #pedro pascal x reader

306 notes · View notes

hqprotectionsquad · 4 years

Note

fluff 21 w ennoshita? :)

“you’re not very intimidating.”

a/n: seem as though these latest requests will be based on holidays! so the last one was new year’s eve/day, and this one is halloween. i’ve also got one more coming up after this one!

“What are you dressing up as for Halloween, (Y/N)?” Ennoshita sits in the chair beside you, peering over your shoulder for some kind of hint. You’ve said it yourself several times: only the universe could know that the person you’d be paired to sit with hated math class above all his other courses. Lucky for him, it’s a subject you don’t mind, and honestly could work on longer than other classes.

"I haven't really thought about Halloween costumes yet. Too busy studying," you mention as a jab. When you see the reaction you're looking for, you grin. "I'm kidding. I was thinking of dressing up as a volleyball player. Think you could ask Sugawara senpai if I could borrow a jersey from him?"

"Why would you ask me that, when I play volleyball too? You can just borrow mine," he suggests with a click of his tongue. This string that ties you two together is never spoken of, but usually acted upon instead. Ennoshita never usually takes charge in this sense, but since you love to push his buttons, he has to make some adjustments in his assertion.

"Alright," you peer at him with the fading hint of a teasing smile. "What are you dressing up as then?"

"It's going to be scary. I promise you that."

You erupt into a small fit of giggles, soft enough so that the teacher in the front of the class can't hear you. "You couldn't be scary even if you tried." You poke his arm for extra emphasis.

Frowning, he grumbles, "Just you wait. I'll make myself scary."

The following week comes almost without warning, dragging you along even though you don’t feel ready. Ennoshita followed his word, handing you a black and orange jersey the day before the festivities.

“You look better in the number six,” he says as you hold it up to your shoulders. “Or at least I think so. I mean, it’s just a better number?” He gives up on trying to justify his words.

You pull your chin towards your chest to look down at the shirt. “I think I will too.” No need to let him know that you associate wearing someone’s jersey with being in a relationship with them, and no need to let him know that you were thinking about wearing his jersey and cheering for him as he plays in a match.

The frigid October air swishes against you as you trek the hill leading up to your high school. It's only autumn mornings that are like this; by the time you venture into the town with friends after school, the sun will be shining happily in the sky. You walk into the school building, donning your favorite player’s number on your chest, though it's covered by your cardigan at the moment. The hallways are streamed with paper strings and webs, and students loiter, asking one another what they dressed up as. There are several pointed hats poking out through the top of the sea of humans, as well as many cat-earred headbands.

One particular costume takes to the forefront of your view as you approach the second-year hallway. You’d be able to recognize him even in a crowd of thousands, but that doesn’t prevent you from taking a double take.

Ennoshita bares his teeth to greet you, his artificial fangs glinting from the lights above.

“You’re not very intimidating,” you roll your eyes at him and he lowers his arms from his overbearing stance. He pouts, but nonetheless, slings an arm around your shoulder, which is a bold move on his part.

“I wouldn’t have expected a vampire,” you muse as you look him up and down. He’s got it all down to a T: ruffled white shirt tucked into a pair of black slacks (that are probably the one and same pair he wears for school anyway), all hidden behind a lengthy cape that flows behind him. “And the shoes are shiny too. You won’t be able to find a reflection, even if you tried though.”

“It’s all about the little details. Speaking of,” he looks at you. “Aren’t you going to take off your cardigan?”

“What, so you can see what your jersey looks like on me?” Even as you tease him, red covers your cheeks just as equally. You shrug off the cardigan and out of his grip, then you sling the cardigan onto the crook of your elbow. “What do you think?” Turning on your foot, you twirl in a circle, creating a bubble fit for two.

Ennoshita gazes at the end of the hall, covering his nose and mouth with one of his hands. He taps his fingers on the surface of his skin, pretending to be engrossed with something some random student is doing. “I was just looking at someone else’s costume, they’re really creative.”

Your eyebrows scrunch. “But, uh, what about my costume?”

“You look nice.”

“Just nice? After you agonizing to have me wear your uniform and not Sugawara’s?”

“Okay, fine, you look really good.” Afterward, he mutters, “Why didn’t I give you one of my jerseys earlier?”

Just to give him the benefit of the doubt, you smile and move on with the conversation. “Let’s take a picture, yeah? Before everything gets all messy and then we won’t be able to find each other later.”

After flagging down a person to take your picture, you stand a distance away from the phone camera, guiding Ennoshita to lock you in a hug. “Here, put your arms around me and then cross them so that your hands land on the opposite shoulder.”

“Uh, are you sure?”

You blurt out the word “certain!” before you can shut your mouth.

The friend behind the phone asks if you’re ready and you nod. “Okay, say cheese!”

The two of you respond, “Cheese!” After a few shots, Ennoshita even pretends to go to bite your neck. Nothing can stop the fluttering in your chest as you can literally feel his presence in a personal spot and you’re trying not to blush, but you’re certain that you’ll see your face turn redder and redder when you look through the photos after.

“Thank you!” You express your gratitude to your friend after you take back your phone. “These are really cute, Ennoshita. Look,” you swipe through the shots taken. “Maybe you aren’t a scary vampire, but you’re definitely a cute one.”

general haikyuu tag list: @dorkyama @kingkags @clowninfortodoroki @ykchaos @kingkagss @alienvarmint @gogohaikyuu @keiyoomi @shou-kunn @n1sh1n0ya @yams046 @scorpiosanssexy

please let me know if you’d like to be removed from the tag list via ask!

navi! | master list | tag list form

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#ennoshita #ennoshita chikara #ennoshita chikara x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu oneshot #anime fanfiction #karasuno #karasuno x reader #ennoshita x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n

32 notes · View notes