#and ofc the state will make them pay for the decision they didn’t make...

[brattyfics]

drunk dialing | writer wednesday

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Black!OFC

Summary: Angel's ex-girlfriend gives him a call one night when she has too much to drink.

Tags: Angst, Toxic!Angel, Unresolved Feelings, Alcohol Consumption.

Word Count: 1.5k

1:16.

“She doesn’t need anymore.”

The words barely register over the hustle and bustle of the packed sports bar. Basketball reruns play on the television, old school r&b blaring over the loudspeakers. The bartender takes one look at Summer and the way her frame is slumped over just slightly, the way her dark brown eyes have glazed over, and nods his agreement. From their places on barstools, her friends thank him, not-so-subtly sneaking glances at Summer from the corners of their eyes. She can’t bring herself to care. They don’t understand. She’s drowning in the liquor but also an ocean of misery. The waves steadily pull her down further at each turn.

No one understands, so she takes special care to savor the dark amber liquid as it burns her from the inside out.

2:29.

Last call in the state of California is 1:30 am for any establishment that sells alcohol. Businesses like the bar that so graciously hosts Summer and her friends can stay open later, and they usually do. Most patrons abide by state law, using the time to sober up by stuffing themselves with greasy foods-- pizza, fries, chicken wings. Instead of drinking, they make plans to come back and meet up with the strangers they have become fast friends with or say goodbye to their college buddies in town for the weekend.

If You Think You’re Lonely Now plays as patrons began to shuffle out. Summer hums along.

If you think you’re lonely now, huh

Wait until tonight, girl (If you think you’re lonely now)

I’ll be long gone (You just wait until tonight girl)

And you’ll never find another man that’ll treat ya’ right

And then there are the lonely.

The ones at the bar every evening without fail, using it as home in place of the one they lack. They slide the servers bribes, crisp and crumpled twenty dollar bills across the bar top. She watches with tired eyes as they slide shot glasses back in exchange. Summer thinks she would try her luck if it weren’t for the mother hens watching over her with careful eyes. Her friends-- Aliyah, Jasmine, and Nia already think she’s a ticking time bomb. The last thing she needs to do is give them the ammunition they need to call her an alcoholic.

3:34.

It takes a while for the bar to clear out. Nia has to use the bathroom at the last minute, complaining about it being filthy when she returns. Jasmine mutters an obviously while Summer pitifully sips the last remnants of her drink. The melted ice cubes ruin it, she can’t taste the bourbon at all, but every little drop counts, right?

Summer refuses the hand offered to her by Aliyah as they stumble out into the parking lot. Aliyah hovers with her arms poised to catch her just in case. Nia absentmindedly plays a card game on her phone behind them, and Jasmine heads up the group, her keys noisily jingling as she swings them back and forth. She’s the designated driver and the only one sober enough to drive.

It’s a typical summer night in California, dry but cold and windy, so they quicken their pace. With every step, Bobby Womack’s crooning is stuck on replay in Summer’s mind. The lyrics resonate with her…

When it’s cold outside who are you holding?

...and she’s about to voice her thoughts when she sees it.

“Is that a phone booth?!” The words come out more hysterical than probably they should. Sure, it’s been like ten years since she’s seen one in person, and she didn’t know they still existed, so she’s a little excited and a lot drunk, but it’s just a phone booth. One that’s narrow and brightly lit in the midnight blue of the night. Aliyah, who forgot her glasses at home, squints at the white blob until she can make out its shape.

“I think it is.” She sounds a little mystified herself, and that’s all the encouragement Summer needs in her state. One minute she’s cheesing wide, and the next, she’s sprinting across the street towards the phone booth, giggling and tugging her short dress down the whole way.

The girls yell after her, but she tunes them out, snatching the ice cold phone off the hook. She’s even more enamored when she pulls the heavy metal to her ear and hears the dial tone.

It works!

High heels click loudly behind her. Summer turns just in time to see the girls come to a stop behind her, out of breath and unamused. Jasmine leans over and rests her forearms on her knees. “What the hell?” She hisses, glaring daggers at her friend. Summer ignores her, punching the chunky silver buttons like she’s in a trance. Even inebriated, she knows them by heart. One number after the other, she dials the one person she knows she shouldn’t.

Angel Reyes.

She vaguely registers her friends telling her to put the phone down. She knows that she’s making a mistake, but the armor she wears to protect herself from the world is too heavy. She strips it away, her inhibitions lowered. All she wants is him.

Ring...

“She’s been drinking. We should do something.” Sweet Aliyah is always the voice of reason. Nia sounds bored and over the situation. “This is so dumb.” Jasmine tugs on her arm. “Come on. You’re drunk.”

Ring…

“There’s no harm in a phone call, right?” Aliyah says, but her voice is shaky. She’s wrong, and they all know it.

Ri--

“Hello?” The reception is shitty, and the volume in the earpiece low, but with one word, Summer’s hooked all over again. She doesn’t say anything for several moments, the sound of her harsh breathing the only thing that transmits. There’s a long, tense moment where Summer tries to convince herself to hang up, but then Angel says, “Baby, is this you?” She hates the sob she releases into the phone from the simple words. She draws her bottom lip into her mouth to quiet the sound. Her girlfriends freeze, unsure of what to do.

“Y-yeah, it’s me.”

“You been drinking, mami?”

“Maybe.” Summer sways, and Aliyah is there, using her arm to prop her best friend up. It’s a silent act of support, a reminder that Angel isn’t and shouldn’t be the center of her universe. She has supportive friends, a loving family. She doesn’t need him.

“Where you at? I’ll come get you.” She doesn’t need him, but she’s tempted to tell him to meet her back at Jasmine’s place. It’s only a ten-minute ride from his place, five minutes if he speeds the way she knows he does.

Speeds the way he did when she caught him at Vicki’s with Adelita. He had been acting shady for months, whispering on the phone, keeping odd hours. She had felt like a crazy woman when she put the tracker on his bike, but her intuition was validated when she saw his location. She followed him, expecting to find him with one of Vicki’s girls. Instead, she found him there with Adelita and her protruding belly, rubbing it with his large, ringed hands like a doting father. Like they were some happy fucking family.

Summer had nearly lost her mind, knocking over furniture, breaking bottles from behind the bar. Luckily for them, EZ caught her wrist and restrained her. The sight of Angel shielding that woman, protecting her when he hadn’t protected her feelings, was ingrained in her mind. Realizing that all the men she regarded highly and looked up to as older brothers and uncles had been lying, and helping Angel hide his cheating, was something she would never forget.

Being betrayed like that should have been enough to make her stop loving him, but... it just wasn’t. Summer often found herself wondering what was wrong with her. Why did she pine after a man that hurt her so badly? Sure, Angel’s handsome, and funny, and sweet, and really, really good in bed, but he’s not good. Not for Summer.

She sniffles into the phone, “I don’t want you to. I don’t want you.” She tries to will the words to be true, but the tears gliding down her face tell a different story.

“Why call me then?”

“Too much liquor.”

He snorts out a laugh but then pauses as if considering something. “Yeah, me too.” Summer swears she can make out the sound of Gilly shouting something in the background, but maybe she’s so drunk that she’s imagining things. Maybe she’s making it all up in her head because she longs for their relationship back. She always finds herself back at square one when it comes to Angel, wishing things could go back to how they were, that she could erase all the bad and keep all the good.

You see the night's the time when the needs come out

When your needs come out to breathe

And the jonesing starts and there ain't no way you can sleep, ooh

“You hurt me.” Summer doesn’t bother to hide her bitterness. She knows Angel won’t acknowledge the words because the only pain he can recognize is his own.

“Summer, why are you calling?” His voice has an edge to it this time. He’s daring her to make a decision, pick a side. Either she wants to be with him, or she doesn’t. His gruff tone, the callousness with which he says the words should make her want to turn away from him.

Instead, it makes her heart lurch.

She feels desperate to hold onto him, so she says, “'Cause I-I...I love you.”

Notes: The prompt is from @autumnleaves1991-blog Weekly Writing Challenge. Summer Walker - Drunk Dialing...LODT & Bobby Womack - If You Think You’re Lonely Now inspired this fic. Let's all pretend you don't have to pay to use a pay phone lol. Do you like to see moodboards/covers for fics? Please let me know. Hope you all enjoy!

General Taglist:

@woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sheeshgivemeabreak @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @glimmerglittergirl @apantherinmypastlife @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @thewarriorprincessxo @sadeyesgf @pearlkitten33 @imanerdychubbyqueen @literaturefeen @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @everyhowlmarksthedead @yourwonkywriter @trulysuccubus @sparklemichele @luckyharley1903

Angel Reyes:

@claytoncardenasbabymama @adaydreamaway08

[thegodwithin]

I view myself as a failure to be honest. A liar and someone who struggles to do what others do easily. When it comes to others, I assume they are better unless proven otherwise. I see myself as inferior to everyone like a baby that people have to boss around and have to tell what to do. I feel like I’m stupid sometimes. I see myself as someone who can never make up their mind and I’m just here to please people. I feel like I have to do something in order to win the affection and attention. I feel like when I enter a room, no one turns their head unless I’m doing something fun or exciting and even at that, they look at my face and lose interest. I feel like someone who guys would be like “Eh, she’s a 3/10. Why would you ever let someone that ugly play you?” But I have this false delusion in my head that I’m pretty but everyone else thinks the opposite. I feel like that friend in the movies that everyone knows is dumb and ugly, but continues to lies to themselves to escape reality. I just feel like I’m lying when I’m confident because I mean look at me? Do I really have the right to feel confident when I look the way I look and act the way I act. I feel like the bitch that people force themselves to be around so she doesn’t get hurt when she figures out no one actually likes her. I feel like loser who never wins even when they try. I feel like someone who tries and tries just to be inferior to everyone around them. I feel like someone who is scared and instead of succeeding in the end, they were right and they end up failing like they thought they would. I feel like someone who struggles with shit that comes easy to everyone else. I feel like someone that’s only made to be a stepping stone for others and is only mean to “defend themselves”, but deep down they are just insecure. The opposite of THAT BITCH or an IT GIRL. I can never see myself in that light. More of the best friend or girl that follows the it girl around and follows her every move knowing she will never amount to the true IT GIRL. I feel like everything and everyone is against me and whatever higher power that’s out there (God) is laughing at me for attempting manifestation knowing I used it as an escape from Christianity. I mean how can I be the god of reality when I’m me? I’m just tasha. I can’t be a god when I’m this pathetic. I couldn’t even manifest a simple eye change and it’s been a year LMAO. I’ve seen others manifest what I want in days. I feel like I’ve made up manifestation in my head and I’m trying to use it with no concrete evidence besides success stories to make me feel better about my horrible life. But even if it was real, I will fall out of it like I did with everything else. Like I did with trying to journal or trying to workout because I’ll end up failing and lying to everyone and telling them I succeed so I look good. I feel like someone who fails and fails and someone who the universe is against LMAO or whatever higher power there is. If it was for me, why haven’t I gotten what I wanted? If I’m a god, why do I feel the way I do about myself? If I’m a god, why do I look the way I do? I don’t capture the beauty I’ve always wanted. I have a long face and droopy eyes THATS THE OPPOSITE OF WHAT ANYONE WANTS. And I know people will be like I wish I had your determination. No you don’t because it’s physically hurting me at this point. I keep failing and getting hurt and won’t take no until I finally snap and leave it forever. Until I snap and lie and tell others I finally succeeded. I can’t even decide on what I fucking what. What boss bitch doesn’t know what they want? My determination is all for nothing if I just end up failing and have to cover for myself by saying, “Oh yeah it totally worked out.” Ik self concept but what specifically do I affirm for self concept and how do I affirm it to make it feel natural?

First of all, I'd like to say that I personally understand you, so I know how hard all of this can be.

Now I think you need to start over and really go over the basics of the law. Your external reality will only ever work to prove your assumptions to be true. It will also only reflect to you what you already are. So if you feel / believe that you are unattractive, you will face more circumstances that will make you reaffirm how unattractive you are. It’s pointless to look outside for changes or signs or any evidence that “this is working” because nothing can change before you do. Signs follow, they don't precede. Everything is reflecting your state of being, your awareness. Even your own thoughts and feelings, so pay attention to those.

This is a REALLY long reply so the rest is under the cut

If you were this new person that you want to become, if you were already her, do you think she would be seeing herself in this way? Do you think she would be thinking that she can’t get it right and that she’s a failure and unattractive? If she’s already the person that you want to be, she would know for a fact that she was a success story, she’s living proof of it! She would be focused on enjoying her life the way that she intended to.

There’s only ever one source within you, from which your whole reality is born from. You can’t come from a place of lack and a place of fulfillment at the same time. Like Neville said, you can’t serve two masters. You have to completely let go of your old master, which is your old story. This is the moment to stop everything and really be honest with yourself. Who are you being in this moment? Who were you yesterday? Last week? Last year? And you don’t really need any input from the outside to answer these questions. All of that is within you, in your thoughts, in your reactions, in your feelings, in the way you look at life and others, in your everyday expectations.

But letting go of the old story can be difficult, you’re so attached to it, you identify with it, it’s everything you have ever known. It’s okay, stop punishing yourself and calling yourself a failure over this, that type of attitude won’t help you with anything. I think it’s helpful to understand yourself first, know what you’re feeling and what you want, before you jump into any techniques or quick affirmation fixes that clearly aren’t helping you. You don’t need to be an IT GIRL or a boss bitch if that doesn’t feel right or natural to you. You don’t need to be perfect at everything in order to be successful, fulfilled and happy. Get to know yourself first, understand why you have been thinking and feeling this way and what would you prefer to be, what would you like to feel, in general. We always know what we want to feel, so start there when it comes to your desires.

In my opinion, you can’t really let go of the old story before you accept it first. And I don’t mean to accept it as true and factual of who you are, but accept it in terms of taking responsibility for being the creator of it. You don’t have to love it ofc, but get to a point where you can honestly look at it and say “yeah that sucked but it’s ok, I created it, it doesn’t mean anything else, it was just myself being reflected back to me, it wasn’t anyone’s fault, not even my own really. I didn’t know better.” Make peace with where you are and where you came from before you try to get to any new destinations.

To be god, or the god of your reality does not mean to be perfect and to look like an angel. It means to be the source of everything, to be the one in control, calling the shots. It means that you ARE your reality, you are your experiences, your relationships, your feelings and your thoughts. It means that there is absolutely nothing outside of you, nothing beyond your reach, nothing deciding anything in your life. Whatever you, as god, accepts as true, will be brought to life before your eyes. And you, as god, is the only one keeping everything alive around you, by giving your attention to it. By accepting it and validating it. By believing in it. By feeling it to be true. And your godself, or the god within you is your awareness, your imagination.

Now that you know and accept that you created all this and how you got here, the good news is that you can change it. You can in fact become a different person, that’s part of your power as god. Choose to no longer entertain and accept the concepts about yourself (or about anything else) that you don’t like. It’s only “real” because you accepted it as such, and you proved this acceptance by thinking and feeling from the perspective of those concepts being true. This will probably take a lot of discipline from you, you must become aware of who you are being everyday, and start choosing to think and feel in a different way. No need to “ignore” your 3d world, but rather just remind yourself that you created it, it’s not who you are anymore and it will certainly change, the more you become this new person within. Stop identifying with it and taking it as evidence. It’s not evidence, it’s a side effect.

Ask yourself, who do you want to be today? What do you want to feel like? and then proceed to give it to yourself in your imagination, in whichever way feels best to you (visualizing, feeling, affirming, scripting etc). Make a decision to prioritize giving yourself what you want in your mind everyday, as much as possible. Nothing else matters. Your goal should not be to change the circumstances but rather to change your mind, to change where your feelings and thoughts are coming from. The outside world has no choice but to conform to that, because it’s all you.

You don’t need to add anything into your thoughts (ex: using a bunch of affirmations), but rather just replace what’s already in there with the thoughts you would like to have instead. But know that as you do this everyday, you’re not running away from reality, you are molding it and transforming it, because it simply comes from you.

What you tell others is not relevant unless you assume it is. Remember that your conversations and interactions are also a reflection of you. If anything, take it as lessons, it’s life showing you what you are focusing on and accepting as true.

A key point tho is your discipline and persistence. This is a permanent change and a lifestyle. You can’t jump from one perspective (the new wanted one) and then go back to your old one (the old story, the old master remember?) if you don’t see changes in your outside world after a few days. You must persist in your preferred story. But don’t be forceful, don’t think that “oh i’m in the old state again so this means i’m not doing it right!”. If you catch yourself serving the old master just remind yourself that wait this isn’t true for me anymore, so I don’t even need to keep it up in my mind.

Free yourself to be who and what you want in your mind. Without needing to see it manifest. You want it, so you embody having it, you persist in it and as a side effect of how reality works, it shows up in your life.

Here’s 2 audios that are really helping me lately:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j9Sk-ENo650

https://podcasts.apple.com/br/podcast/feeling-twisty/id1473719923?i=1000527543384

I would seriously recommend to go in depth with both of these sources, feeling twisty on apple podcasts and ALLISMIND on reddit.

I hope this helps!

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

All I want for Christmas is You

Summary: Donaka could ask for what he wants. Because he would get it. But sometimes breaking someone to get what he wants, is so much more fun.

Pairing: Donaka Mark x OFC (Sara Morgan)

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: stalking (very questionable behavior, okay?) mentions of sextoys (if you need a warning for that)

A/N: I thought I should at least write one of the Christmas Challenge Prompts, so here is my creepy take on “All I want for Christmas is you”

Masterlist

Donaka didn’t make much out of christmas. It had been just like any other day his whole life. He didn’t get into the festive mood. Which could have to do with the fact that it was harder to pay people to like you on days like christmas when they wanted to be with their own families.

He never understood the urge of people to do something for their loved ones just to see them happy. That was until he saw her eyes on the first company christmas party a couple years ago for the first time. It had been her first year outside of the states and she had just started working for one of his employees. Sara Morgan. A beautiful and intelligent young woman who always had a smile on her face. She had been in charge of planning the christmas party and Donaka himself had to admit he felt like he’d been thrown into a snow globe back then. Every surface had been covered in snow. Everything was blinking.

He didn’t notice it at first. His need to know more about her. It started with reading in on her file. Then he hired a private investigator to find out everything about her. Like a miracle (he initiated) she slowly climbed up the positions in his company until just at the beginning of this very year she became his secretary.

That’s when Donaka made the decision. He wanted her. He wanted her for himself. He wanted to be the only one who saw that smile. That little smile when got a compliment. How she would blush and shake her head before she looked up with a soft smile.

It was around the beginning of december when his plan finally was set into motion. He saw the courier arrive at her desk just outside his office with a package. Donaka got up from his seat behind his desk to make his way to her.

Of course he could just have asked her out. Like people do. But Donaka wanted her to come to him. Something that would never happen cause Sara would never sleep with her boss. He knew how all the former managers had tried it. So Donaka made a plan. A plan that would end with Sara having no other choice but to come to him.

“Anything interesting Miss Morgan?” He asked as he walked to her desk.

“Uhm…” She was flustered, that he could tell. “Just the signed contracts we have been waiting for. I’ll get them to legal right away.” She said quickly.

“And that package?” He gestured towards the package.

“I… It’s addressed to me. I’m not sure…”

“You know we don’t allow personal deliveries around here.” He said.

“I.. I know. And I don’t know who sent it. It’s probably a mistake….”

“Only one way to find out.” He nodded towards her. She looked up at him, her beautiful green eyes pleading with him. When Donaka didn’t make a move to leave she sighed and began to open her package. He followed her every move with his eyes. The way she held the scissors to open the package. Her fingers as she grabbed the wrapped box inside.

“From your secret admirer.” She whispered reading the card and frowned before she carefully unwrapped the box. A little smile sneaked to her face.

“These are beautiful.” Sara took out the bouquet of blue roses, bringing them to her nose to smell them.

“Blue?” Donaka asked.

“It’s my favorite color.”

“Seems like someone knows you very well.” Donaka said, as he turned around to leave for his meeting, suppressing his grin.

It was on day four when things started to get a little weird for Sara. She was still wondering who sent the flowers when another package arrived the day after. Her favorite chocolates. She shared them with Donaka on their way out to a meeting she had to accompany him. He had asked her if she had an idea who it was that sends the gifts, but she had no idea. Deep inside she had hoped it was him. Donaka Mark was an impressive and handsome man. A man she would never have. But the thought of him being interested in someone like her made her wait for the next day with excitement.

On day three, after lunch she came back to a piece of her favorite cake and her favorite tea waiting for her on her desk. Thankfully Donaka was nowhere to be seen. As much as she enjoyed the gifts, getting them at work, for everyone to see seemed a little unprofessional. Even if she had the tiniest hope it was him who sent the fits.

When day four arrived and the mailman set a package down in front of her that contained her favorite perfume, things started to get a little weird. The gifts in the following days got more personal and she kissed the idea of her boss sending these gifts goodbye.

It was a week later when Donaka noticed a change in her behaviour. She seemed on edge. Of course he knew why. He started out with innocent stuff he sent to her, but two days ago there was a very revealing Victoria's secret set delivered to her. He had fun at the store, imagining her in all these sexy outfits. Though he prefers his women to be not wearing anything at all.

Yesterday something had been delivered to her home address. Photos of herself in her bedroom. He smiled to himself. Changing. His plan was in full action.

“Sara?” He said, making her jump as he got out of his office.

“Yes Sir?” She asked, her voice high.

“Is everything set for today’s christmas party?” He asked. Of course she was still in charge of everything christmas.

“Oh yes. If it’s okay I would like to head over to the restaurant in an hour to check if everything is in order.” She looked up. He noticed the circles around her eyes.

“Of course Sara. But…” He stepped closer. “Are you okay? You look like you didn’t sleep last night.” He asked concerned.

“I… Thank you for asking. It’s just been some busy days.” She forced a smile.

“You know you can talk to me if there’s anything bothering you, right?” Donaka said.

“Of course Sir.” Her smile didn’t look as forced as before.

“I mean it. And of course you can head off to the restaurant. I will be a little late today.”

“I’ll save a seat for you, Sir.” Sara whispered. Donaka winked at her before left.

Sara couldn’t shake the feeling off that she was being watched. She left the restaurant just in time to get ready at home before she got back again. She noticed that she hadn’t received a package yet. And she hoped it would stay this way. What started out as a nice distraction from a secret admirer slowly was becoming a case for the local police. She still hadn’t figured out how that person got the photos of her in her apartment.

She knew all she had to do was tell her boss who basically ruled the city, but she didn’t want Donaka to know. He had enough to deal with himself. The man worked around the clock. How he managed to look this good doing it, was a miracle to her. Of course she noticed how attractive he was. She wasn’t blind. But she also knew that she was at least 20 years younger and that he kind of seemed like he wasn’t interested in women. Or men for that matter. He either was asexuel or had a sex slave. At least that’s what her very wild imagination came up with. Smiling at the bartender she took a glass of champagne to calm her nerves. Her co-workers slowly arrived and soon her creepy secret santa was the last thing on her mind. Her former boss, Marcus was just about to tell another one of his stories, when she felt a hand on her shoulder making her jump.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Donaka said. Sara looked up, taking in her boss who was dressed in all black with a deep red tie.

“It’s okay, Sir. Glad you could make it.” She smiled a little shy before she looked away and talked to her colleagues. Donaka loved the dress she was wearing. Like a present ready to unwrap. She was wearing another perfume than usual. Her hair was styled in waves and on her left shoulder. She looked beautiful.

“How are you spending your holidays, Sir?” He heard her ask. He blinked, surprised that he had gotten lost in his thoughts so quickly.

“I work. Like every year.” Donaka answered.

“Not a big fan of christmas?” Sara asked.

“Never had anyone to celebrate it with.” He shrugged. He could read in her face that she had questions, but she knew better as to ask him personal questions in front of anyone. In the last months when she had stayed longer to work with him, he had answered a question or two about his personal life. Something he never did before.

“I’m gonna head out for a cigarette.” He squeezed her shoulder before he nodded at the people surrounding them and walked outside on the big patio.

He was just about to finish his cigarette when he heard the click of heels behind him. Turning around he saw Sara looking at him.

“All of this looks beautiful.” He said.

“Thank you Sir.” She smiled.

“Donaka please.” He added. Everytime he heard the word Sir leave her lips he felt his cock twitch.

“Donaka.” Her smile got wider. She slowly walked outside, admiring the city view as he finished his cigarette.

“Can I ask you a question?” Sara said after a while.

“Of course.”

“If… If you had the feeling that you were being watched… What would you do?” He turned his head towards her, seeing her suck in her bottom lip.

“I would ask my security to do a better job. Do you think someones watching you?” He asked concern in his voice. He stepped closer to her, making her tilt her head up so she could look at him.

“I’m… “ She shook her head. “No. Probably watched too many scary movies lately.” She closed her eyes.

“You know that you can talk to me, right?” Donaka said quietly, suppressing the urge to brush away the stray of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes.

“Of course.” She smiled. “Thank you Donaka.”

The party was in full motion when the secret santa gifts were given out. Sara sat next to Donaka the whole evening and they actually talked. About everything. She found out about his love for motorcycles and he learned that she always wanted to be a cook but ended up working this job because she didn’t have enough money to open her own restaurant.

Donaka opened his present and actually had to laugh at the blinking reindeer ears. It was probably the champagne but he put them on, much to the delight of his employees and Sara.

“Looks good. We should change the Christmas cards to pictures of you wearing these.”

“Careful Miss Morgan. I’m still your boss.” Donaka teased.

“Of course Sir.” She winked at him. Shaking her head she unwrapped her gift and he could see her hands shaking.

“Everything okay?” He asked.

“Yeah. Just…. Nevermind.” She shook her head. He looked at her face in the moment she opened the package. Of course he knew what was inside. It was risky, but he hoped that this would finally make her run into his arms.

He saw the forced smile on her face as she opened the lid, her hands still shaking. Sara didn’t want to open a present in front of her boss.

“Oh my god…” She whispered, seeing the pink vibrator and closing the box immediately. Shaking her head she set it down on the table before she practically fled outside. This couldn’t be happening. Sara ran outside, thankful that there weren’t any people around as she tried to get air into her lungs. She didn’t even realize Donaka was following her until she felt hands on her upper arms.

“Breathe with me. In…. and out….” He said looking at her. It took a couple minutes before she finally calmed down. Letting her head fall against his chest. Donaka carefully wrapped his arms around her until she was safe in his arms. Looking over her shoulder he guided them both out of sight.

“What happened there?” He whispered.

“I… These gifts I got the whole week. They were nice in the beginning but… a couple days ago I got lingerie. Very revealing lingerie. And yesterday…. Yesterday someone sent pictures to my home address of myself in my apartment and I have no idea who took them. Or who sent them. I thought I’d be safe today but…”

“I saw the gift you just got.” Donaka said.

She shook her head. Terrified.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Donaka asked.

“You’re my boss. You have more important stuff to take care of.” Sighing he leaned back, his hand tilting her chin up.

“I’d like to think we are friends, Sara.”

“You do?”

“Of course. And now tell me everything that happened, so I can take care of it.”

“You should have told me right away Sara. Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m gonna let my security deal with it. And you’re not going home tonight. You can stay with me. Or in a hotel. I don’t want you going home until this is dealt with.”

“But… I can’t possibly…”

“I don’t accept any arguments. It’s with me or in a hotel with one of my bodyguards outside.” He said sternly. Sara looked at him. Donaka looked genuinely concerned. And she was genuinely scared to go home alone. Sighing, she finally nodded.

“I’ll go with you. It’s probably easier, your home is like fort knox.”

“Thank you.” He breathed out and allowed himself to kiss her forehead before he pulled her closer, his chin on top of her head.

A familiar song reached their ears “I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know, make my wish come true. All I want for christmas is you…”

“I’ll keep you safe, Sara.” He said, thankful that Sara couldn’t see the smirk on his face.

[kickingitwithkirk]

Greetings From Austin: Part II

Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Alpha!Jared Padalecki x Omega!OFC

Summary: Jensen and Jared are at odds over a monumental decision that changes their lives in a way they couldn’t have envisioned.  

Word Count: 3985

Warnings: a/b/o, bisexuality, angst, cursing, self doubt, depression/anxiety, married life/disagreements, medical stuff, sexual dysfunction, infertility, surrogacy

*Jensen acting out of character

*additional warnings to be added in future parts.

A/N: series Inspired by this art.

A/N II: For this part I did some research & delved into a bit of reproductive/genetic testing-please don’t dink me on details, I altered it a bit to fit A/B/O verse.

A/N III:  There is no intentional hate or malevolence intended towards any of the Ackles or Padalecki families. This is a purely fictional piece containing real and created persons/names/events set in the fictional  A/B/O verse. Some dates/events altered to fit story.

Part I

*no beta-all mistakes are mine

*photos found online

One hour later

Jensen sets two sealed cups in the small niche shutting its door and grabs his jacket sliding it on, his inner Alpha purring with satisfaction watching his husband's fumbling fingers working at a button on his shirt, “Need any help babe?”

Jared’s all dilated pupils and glowing cheeks above his thick beard, “I’m good, I'll be out in a few.” Jensen leans in for one more soft, lingering kiss before leaving. Locking the door behind him Jared leans against it, closing his eyes, savoring the last vestiges of his oxytocin high.

He can’t stop recalling that mischievous glint in those luminous green eyes as Jensen slowly licked his plush lips before diving in to kiss him stupid, his long, sinful tongue doing things that’s probably illegal in twenty states, hands with ooh, so thick, talented fingers capable all sorts of magical things.

Shaking himself out of the memory he crossed over to the sink and caught his debauched reflection in the mirror. Shit, he can’t out looking like this.

Turning on the tap cups his hand to catch some of the running water splashing his face to cool off when his phone starts vibrating in his back pocket. Drying his hands and face he pulls it out checking the text. Glancing up he runs a hand over his thick beard, smoothing it down before leaving the room.

Completely preoccupied typing a reply he rounds the corner heading for the doctor's office slamming into a woman knocking her off her feet, the contents of the bag she’s carrying scatter loudly across the floor.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry!”

From her seated position she looks up...and up, his long, long legs clad in low riding jeans barely held up by a loosely buckled leather belt, his shirts rucked-up, a bit of his treasure trail and toned abs flanked by the sharp V of his hip peeking out.

“FuckI’mfuckingsorryFuckdidn’tfuckingsee....”

Jared, embarrassed, keeps apologizing, laced with fuck every other word, squats down gathering scattered items, dropping them back into the bag continuously babbling until she bursts out laughing. “And here I be thinking I said fuck to much,” a subtle lilt in her voice making it sound like she’s saying fook instead.

They move around each other picking up the last of her stuff. Jared reaches for a scarf when the central air catches a few loose strands of her hair, lightly dancing them across his cheek.

He inhales sharply as her piquant scent travels through his system eliciting a rumbling purr deep in his chest, “Fuck..” She breathes out gazing directly into his kaleidoscope eyes, watching mesmerized as they bleed into red with arousal as her eyes flash gold in response.

“I..I..fuck..I’ve gotta go!” She sputters, scrambling to her feet, grabs the bag hurrying away, leaving him holding the scarf.

Lifting the forgotten fabric to his face Jared deeply inhaled her scent, reaching down presses against his cock chubbing up the second time that day. He morosely stares in the direction she fled in once more, a low whine of loss escapes before he tucks the scarf into his back pocket and resumes heading towards the doctor’s office.

Dr. Rodgers, standing just inside in a doorway observing unnoticed, makes a mental note.

***

Jensen watches amused as Jared sits down with a slight wince, a not unpleasant reminder of their recent interlude, teases, “Did I make that much of a mess out of you Jay?”

Jared shrugs with a nonchalant “eh.” Jensen lowers his chin leaning close growling his displeasure at the flippant response, Jared internally shivers knowing he’s gonna pay for it when they get home, much to his delight.

Jensen abruptly stops growling, “You stink like Omega!”

Dr. Rodgers comes in carrying a binder saving Jared from responding, “We’ll get your test results in about two weeks unless we see something that needs further investigation.” He sets down the binder in front of them, opening it to the first page revealing a dossier and picture.

“Now, the next bit is selecting an egg donor. I’m sure you're wondering how we select the donors. I rely on a protein compatibility test, similar to the markers blood test used when matching Alphas and Omegas, narrowing down prospective candidates.

All of our donors are Betas and Omegas. Several of the Betas are willing to be the surrogate too. If you choose to go with an Omega donor we will have the extra step of selecting a Beta surrogate but that’s something to discuss later if needed.

We also take into account your personal preferences when it comes to physical traits, personality, etc. I’ll introduce you to the top three that are the best matches. If for some reason none of them work out, we’ll try the next most compatible candidates.”

Dr. Rodgers clicks his pen, “Let’s get started shall we.”

***

Flipping off the light switch Jensen walks out of the bath to find Jared already asleep. Crossing over to their bed he stopped at his side admiring him.

How had he gotten so lucky to have Jared as his? Over fifteen years since that life changing meeting he was more in love with his mate than ever, the ups and downs in their relationship that could have torn them apart made their marriage stronger.

Jensen took hold of the book Jared had been reading, gently pulling it out of his hand, slid in a bookmark and placed it on the nightstand turning off the lamp.

Easing into his side of the bed he leaned over pressing a soft kiss to Jared’s bare shoulder, who only wore bottoms since he always ran warm. Shifting, Jared buries his face into Jensen's neck, draping a long arm across his chest snuggling close, “Thank you.”

“For what babe?”

“Helping me today,” he could feel Jared’s breath warm against his skin, “I know you're against having more but please don’t decide not to, I want to have pups with you.”

Jensen mentality sighed, he’d be forty-three before they were born and didn’t want to be the old dad. Jared had argued that he'd never be, they knew lots of people were having their families later, look at Reedus, fifty when his daughter came and JDM, he was almost fifty-two when George was born.

“I’ll make you a deal, I’ll say yes if we find one donor we both agree on,” he felt Jared’s emotions shifting more positive, “but if you like one and me another, I’m not doing it.”

Jared pressed several soft kisses to the side of his neck, “Okay Jen,” he agrees, shifting to lay his head on his shoulder, “we’ll find the one, I can feel it.” he sleepily finishes.

Jensen rests his cheek against the top of Jared's head, not fallen asleep for ages. How was he going to handle Jared’s inevitable disappointment, knowing it will happen since they have always had vastly different tastes in females.

***

Five days later

7:00 A.M.

Jared was up to mile three of his daily workout on the treadmill in his office. He usually ran outside this early in the morning but a surprise thunderstorm altered his plans for the day when his phone rang. He dialed the machine down to walking speed to answer.

“Hello, Mr. Page, this is Sissy from Dr. Rodgers office, I’m sorry to be calling so early. He would like for you to come back in for a follow up about your semen testing.” Jared’s throat tightened, closing off his ability to respond.

He stepped off the machine and sat down on the large leather couch, “Sorry I..what time can I come in?”

“We have an opening at 8:45, will that work?”

“Yes ma’am, I can be there then.”

“Great, we’ll see you in a bit Mr. Page.”

Jared sat back not caring he was getting sweat all over the leather and started his breathing exercise to calm himself, telling his brain to knock it off, surely it wasn’t anything major with how calm Sissy was on the phone.

Ten minutes later he was still anxious but able to handle it. He glanced at his watch and knew he had to get his butt in gear to make the appointment.

Walking into the bedroom he found Jensen softly snoring so he moved as quietly as he could grabbing some clean clothes and headed for the shower. He left a note by the coffee pot saying he had an errand and be back ASAP.

He pulled into the clinics parking lot with five minutes to spare. Tucking his hair into his ever present beanie, Jared slipped on his mask and dashed through the downpour into the clinic.

After being temperature checked, Sissy walked him to the doctor's office. Knocking on the door she opened it and Jared saw the doctor on the phone gesturing for him to come in as he finished his call.

“Hello Mr. Page, thank you for coming in. I wanted to go over a discrepancy the lab found with your test, I'll try not to use too much doctor jargon.” He layed three pages on the table in front of him, a color printout of a sperm DNA strand broke down into segments and the others Jared recognized as chromosome mapping. “These are part of the Alphas sperm DNA sequencing. Normally, this one has a wide band in this segment,” he pointed to a circled area on the right page demonstrating a normal sequence. “This is your sperm's DNA. What I wanted to show you is a variant in the same section,” he circled a column on the left page, “which contains a narrow band instead,” he highlighted one piece of the chain.

“What does it mean?” Jared asked nervously.

“I’m going to be honest with you, I don’t know, I’ve never encountered this variant before. I looked at your previous testing from 2016 and it was also present on that test, not sure why it was overlooked. I’ve consulted with a few colleagues of mine to get their take,” he paused resting his arms on the desk watching Jared’s expression, “Mr. Page, I didn’t ask you to come in to upset you, I prefer to keep my clients in the loop if anything unusual does present with their testing. It’s possibly something that's genetically unique to you and affects nothing. I’d like to run a Tunel test, it’s a sperm chromatin structure analysis, it’ll give us more information to work with.”

Jared fidgeted, desperately wanting to chew on his fingers, “Umm…okay.”

“Good, it's not invasive at all, we just need some more sperm.” Dr. Rodgers says.

~~~

Jensen was stumbling around the kitchen working on his first cup of coffee when Jared walked in carrying a box from his favorite bakery.

“Those aren’t what I think they are?” Jensen asks as Jared sits the box down on the counter. He opens the lid inhaling the scent of decadent cinnamon roll goodness before pulling out one and taking a huge bite moaning pornographically, “Babe, whatever I did to warrant these remind me to do it again,” he says with his mouthful.

Jared chuckles as his mate continues making obscene noises before bending down taken a bit from the other side earning warning snarl.

“You are so not a morning person.” Jared chided sliding the box over to retrieve his own taking it setting down at the island bar pulling a chunk off.

“You wanna share what’s rattling around in that big head of yours?” Jensen inquires. Jared chews slowly before answering. “I got a call from the clinic, something showed up in my test.”

Jensen snapped fully alert, his roll forgotten, and sat down next to him, “Jared, what’s wrong? Are you sick?”

Jared fiddled with his roll, pulling it apart, “No, not that I’m aware of but they found something off and don’t know what it is. Dr. Rodgers said it’s probably nothing but wanted to run another test to see if he can figure out what it is what if something is wrong and turns out I was the reason Genevieve couldn’t get pregnant I don’t know if I can handle it the possibility of not being able to have pups I’ve wanted them for so long I can’t imagine our lives...”

“Jared,” Jensen sharpness interrupts Jared’s incessant rambling, making him go quiet, “I know you want to go to the worst possible outcome but let’s wait till all the tests are back. If it’s something, we’ll deal, we always do.”

***

August 3rd

“Jen, move your ass, were gonna be late!” Jared bellows from downstairs.

“I’m coming...dammit!” Jensen cursed as he tripped over the boxes left sitting by the bottom step. “You need to get the rest of this shit out of the way, about killed myself again!”

“I’ll stay up tonight moving the rest of this fucking shit if you’ll get a fucking move on!”

The sniping at each other had gotten worse since the house renovations were barely completed before heading back to Vancouver.

Jensen moved his music studio into the newly created space in the basement from the former guest quarters, now relocated to the spacious pool house. The empty upstairs rooms were converted into the eventual nursery/kids rooms with a Jack and Jill bathroom between them.

“You better start watching your goddamn language cause the last thing we need is for our kids to have a trash mouth like…don’t roll your eyes at me!” Jared threw his arms up in disgust before storming out to the garage getting in Jensen’s truck. They drove to the clinic in silence.

They were flying out tomorrow to quarantine for two weeks before resuming shooting on the eighteenth. Then the clinic called their tests were back and Jared didn’t want to wait till they got back for the results.

After their temperature check they were immediately escorted to the doctor’s office finding him already there. “Mr. Bonham, Mr. Page, pleasure to see you, please have a seat.” They sit next to each other not touching. “Is there something wrong gentleman?”

“Why do you ask?” Jensen barks, “Fuck man, don’t be rude!” Jared bit back earning a glare that makes most sane people back away from Jensen.

“Gentleman, no need to fight. It may surprise you but I actually see a lot of hostility between my clients. I’m sure the added stress of the quarantine while trying to start a family is putting your Alpha instincts more on edge, is it not?”

Jensen sighed, “I’m sorry sir, I was raised better.”

Jared gave an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry too sir, and you're right.”

“I’ve been doing this for a long time and understand the situation from your side, my wife and I had trouble conceiving. We ended up having two sets of twins within three years, now that’s stress.”

Jensen blinked, “And I thought mine were a handful.”

Dr. Rodgers laughed, “They are a blessing but honestly, it’s an absolute madhouse at times. So, let’s get back to you two. Mr. Bonham, everything looks good, you are in the top percentile when it comes to mobility and live sperm count for your age group. One of the advantages of being an Alpha, unlike us poor Betas who’s diminish with age.”

“Mr. Page, I also have your results and the Tunel tests which turned out to be something.. unique.”

Jared eyes widened as he paled, his breath hitching, feeling his stomachs spastic tightening making him about vomit. He knew it, he knew something was going to go wrong, his brain didn’t lie to him this time.

Jensen was out of his chair and utilizing his Alpha strength turned Jared’s towards him before kneeling between his legs reaching up to firmly grip the sides of his head forcing him to focus on him opens up his side of their bond he’d shut the other day when they were arguing to gauge how bad this one was.

“Hey Hey, concentrate on me, I need you to breathe with me,” he held Jared’s gaze for several minutes as their breathing cinqued up, feeling him relaxing.

“There you go big guy. It wasn’t that bad, focus on your breathing okay.” Jared nodded embarrassed as Dr. Rodgers sat a bottle of water in front of him, “Do you need me to get you anything else?”

“No, he’s fine, thank you,” Jensen answers, getting up retaking his chair as Jared took a long drink from the bottle, “he’s usually more aware of these attacks but since the damn lock-downs.” Jensen shook his head in disgust, “We're heading back to Vancouver tomorrow to finish our sh..job before his new one starts late October. I guess it’s really hitting us both that it's finally ending.”

“Mr. Ackles, you can say show,” Jared and Jensen stare at him in surprise, “my daughters are fans, I know more about the Winchester brothers than a man my age should.” Dr. Rodgers ruminates, “Mr. Page, are you ready for me to continue?” Jared nodded as Jensen wrapped both of his hands around his free one.

“After I received the results I spoke with a specialist in Alpha genetics. They looked at all your tests and came back with a conclusion I’ve never heard of before.” The doctor laid a printout on the desk, “This is a visual aid to help me in explaining.”

“Chemoattactants are what a female's egg releases to attract the sperm to it. You know how it works from there; sperm meets egg, sperm penetrates egg and viola, fertilization. Alphas sperm has evolved allowing them to inseminate all three sub-genders, whereas male Omegas sperm is sterile since they possess both sets of reproductive organs but only need to utilize one.”

The doctor sets all three of Jared’s tests and the normal example on his desk for them to see, “This chromatin structure you carry Mr. Page,” he points to the highlighted section, “has altered so that the eggs of Alphas and Betas are chemorepellent to your sperm, rejecting fertilization.”

Jared sat still-shocked, blankly staring at the results lying before him, vaguely feeling Jensen reaching across their bond again. “Does this mean he’s...infertile?” He can hear Jensen hesitant inquiry, like he's standing across a vast chasm.

“In conventional terms, yes. This is the reason you were unable to conceive with your previous spouse, being a Beta, and there is still no medical intervention available that would have helped. What’s unique is his sp...”

Jared was numb. His dreams of a little Padackles tearing around their home had literally been salt and burned before his eyes with those test results.

In the recesses of his attention he’s aware of the continuing conversation around him, the longer it goes on, the more his brain is tuning out.

~~~

The first thing he becomes aware of are fingertips caressing his face, softly wiping away wetness damping his cheeks. Slowly blinking the blurry shape in front of him comes into focus.

Jensen is sitting in front of him. More accurately, he’s sitting cross legged in between his own splayed legs on the floor. Jared frowns as his senses are coming back online.

He was sitting on the chair that’s now off to his right so how did he end up with his back against the desk?

“You passed out,” Jensen answers his unspoken question, “and scared the ever-living shit out of me! I thought you were having an aneurysm the way your eyes rolled back into your big head!”

“I..I..don’t know what happened, I was looking at the results, you were asking questions..then nothing.”

“Stress Jared, you are completely stressed out and it's fucking with your illness!” He opens his mouth, “No, I’m not done so be quiet.” Jensen’s voice dropped with his Alpha tone overlaying it,

“Between that final script having you nuts all year, this quarantine fucking up your meds, dealing with your businesses shutdowns, getting Walker started, you had to add pushing for pups, it’s no wonder you couldn’t handle the doctor explanation of...”

“Explanation of what?” Jared lashes back in own Alpha voice, leaning forward into Jensen’s space, his eyes flashing red, “That I’m infertile, sterile, shooting blanks..”

“Shut that fucking mouth for two minutes or I swear I’ll deck you.” Jensen’s normally warm green eyes bleed into a fierce red, becoming hard.

Jared’s mouth snapped shut in surprise. They had gotten into plenty of arguments over the years, gotten in each other’s faces a few times but this was a first. Jensen had never, ever threatened physical harm.

Well, somewhat that time Misha set him off during a panel and he went for him afterwards. Misha stupidly goaded him again before Jensen gave him a shove, ordering him to cool off before he had to do something.

Jensen’s jaw ticked as he mentally counted to ten, “Dr. Rodgers said that you couldn’t impregnate another Alpha or Beta right?”

“Right.”

“The part you zoned out is that your sperm wants to only fertilize an Omega’s eggs.”

Sighing heavily, Jensen crawls over a leg to sit against the desk next to him. Jared pulls his legs up and wraps his arms around them, resting his chin on his knees processing this information as Jensen reaches over and gently rubs his hand in random patterns over his back.

They had mutually agreed on a Beta donor. Now this threw a wrench in the plans.

“Maybe this is a sign we’re rushing into this again. Let’s take a step back and consider all our options.” Jared’s muscles stiffened under his hand.

“I’m not considering anything else and I’m not stopping.”

“Wait...what?”

Jared lifted his head, “I’m not considering anything else and I’m not stopping. I realize this isn’t what you want so don’t worry, I’m not gonna hold you to our agreement.”

Jensen exhaled sharply knowing when Jared spoke in that tone, that was it, end of discussion, mind made up.

Jared gets up, “I’m going to find Dr. Rodgers and see if he's still willing to help me. If you want to leave, go. I’ll get an Uber when I’m done.” He walks out quietly shutting the door behind him.

“Fuck!” Jensen closed his eyes thumping his head back against the desk. He knew he had screwed up and there was only one way to make it right.

***

Jensen asked Jared to let him stay, he was wrong for saying that and he'd be open to one of the Omegas as a possible donor too. Jared wasn’t completely appeased but he was happy Jensen didn’t take the out given him.

The three candidates were smart, attractive, lovely scented Omegas in their twenties that any Alpha looking for a prospective mate would seriously consider, leaving Jensen wanting something else.

“I like aspects of all three Jay, but honestly, I'm not feeling it with any of them.”

“Maybe you’ve reached the stage you’re looking for more substance, less aesthetic.”

“Did you just call me old?” Jensen gaped at his husband.

Before Jared responds, Dr. Rodgers enters, “I see from your expression Mr. Bonham that you haven’t decided on a candidate.”

“It’s not that I didn’t like any of them, there isn’t a..”

“Connection. It’s normal, just because your Alpha doesn’t mean you..desire every Omega you cross paths with. With some it takes time to find the right one.” He looks at his watch.

“We’re at the end of our appointment but I have one more donor I’d like you to meet today. She’s doesn’t exactly fit your personal physical preferences but this omega is...special..and she’s willing to be the surrogate too.”

The doctor opens the door gestures to someone. They stand up to greet her and as she enters they are enveloped by her piquant scent.

“Mr. Page and Mr. Bonham, this is Quinn.”

***

tbc

Part III

GFA: @babypink224221 @waywardjoy @let-me-luve-you @all-4-wincest

SPN: @donnatix @lyarr24

Sam/Jared @idreamofplaid

Dean/Jensen: @flamencodiva

[keytomythoughts]

Perfection Imperfections | Chapter 1

Chapter Index 

»»—————————————-　

Finally, summer break. It’s been a while since I was able to go home. Having to attend high school rather far from my home in Seoul, I never thought that I’d adjust to the new environment. Fortunately, I wasn’t entirely alone, since I stayed with my aunt for the four years of my high school life. School wasn’t so bad, but the homesickness is what killed it for me. Even though it was my parents' idea to send me a rather vast distance—me not being too excited about it, but I knew I wouldn’t get my way in the end—there was some good that came from it. The two only good things, actually. 

I glance outside the train window, the buildings of Busan zooming past me. Sure, it may not be my home, but I won’t lie. I’m really going to miss this place. My phone suddenly vibrates in my lap, glancing down to see a text from my group chat, smiling as I respond.

(Binnie)

R u still on the train?

                                                               Yeah have been for the past like 30 mins

(Eunuwu) 

Going back to ur parents? Or r u moving out?

                                                                                                                      Funny

                                                                        Yk I can’t move out, at least not on                                                                            my own. My parents won’t allow it

(Binnie)

:/

What about Jaehyun?

                                                                            Idk, they rlly dc what he does tbh

                                                                       They’re just hell-bent on me getting                                                                                    into the top schools and shit

(Eunuwu)

Damn, rough

                                                                                                                        Mhm

(Binnie)

Try talking to them, u never know

They might change their minds?

                                                                 Nah, I already know how it’s gonna end

                                                                         Me crying and stuffing myself with                                                                           pints of ice cream

(Eunuwu)

Doesn't sound so bad

(Binnie)

¬_¬

(Eunuwu)

Except for the crying part ofc

But c’mon it cant really be THAT bad

I’ve been over plenty of times, they seem nice

(Binnie)

U’ve been to her house??

                                                                         Yeah him and oppa are friends too

(Binnie)

Righttt forgot lol

                                                                  And that’s bc you were there dumbass                                                                    and half of the time ur either in oppa’s                                                                    room or out somewhere

                                                                  Interaction with my parents = minimal

(Binnie)

That sounds awful ngl :( sorry Hyuna

But hey we should all hang soon!

(Eunuwu)

I’ll be in Seoul for the summer too so y not?

                                                                                                           I miss y’all :’(

                                                                   Ok I should be there around like 5 ish                                                                     so I’ll text then

(Binnie)

Aww I miss u toooo 

(Eunuwu)

*puke*

                                                                                           Shut up, ur just jealous

(Eunuwu)

Me? Jealous?? Of what, ur face?

Yea no thx, Ive got a great face already

And personality 0:)

                                                                               Gr8, explains why ur still single

(Binnie)

LOLL

She got u there bro

(Eunuwu)

Shut up

Ur talking as if u’ve got a gf

Idiot

(Binnie)

At least I didnt reject them as coldly as u did lol 

                                                                                             See? My point exactly

                                                                               Your fAcE scared off every girl                                                                                   in sight bc of tht pErSoNaLiTy

                                                                           I almost feel bad for them, u little                                                                             heart breaker

(Binnie)

He made a couple of em cry I heard

                                                                                                                     Rlly?!?

                                                                                                                         YAH

                                                                                                               U MORON

(Eunuwu)

Bin wtf

(Binnie)

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

                                                                                    U JERK HOW COULD U??

                                                                                              Those poor girls omg

                                                                               Im so kicking ur ass when I c u

(Binnie)

Me 2

(Eunuwu)

Wtf?? Y???

(Binnie)

No reason lol, just feel like it

                                                                                         And this is why ily Binnie

(Binnie)

:D <3

(Eunuwu)

GROSS

                                                                                                        Can it u demon

                                                                                                         Read 4:02 PM

I snort, turning off my phone and placing it back down on my lap as I go back to staring outside my left-hand window again. Meet Cha Eunwoo and Moon Bin, my two best friends. The only reason I got through high school how I did without major setbacks. Sure, there was the occasional homesickness and all, but had I not met these two, I probably wouldn’t have even attended and graduated. 

Being so far away from the place I grew up never really suited me, and they saw it right away from day one how lonely and upset I looked. I didn't seem to fit in, especially since I skipped a grade and was placed in classes that were very advanced for me. Not that I minded the vigor, but it was hard for me to socialize, let alone make friends. 

That’s when I met them. Freshman year in homeroom before my first literature class. Moon Bin, a boy with parted, coppery-golden hair accompanied by his shy, puppy-eye smile and sweet nature, offered me an empty seat next to him in class, even going as far as to share his textbook and asking how I found the school. No doubt, I was embarrassed and immensely shy, stuttering over my words and failing to meet his soft gaze. However, he didn’t make fun of me nor find me odd. All he did was smile, laughing lightly at my slightly flustered state. He stuck his hand out, introducing himself (most people just call him Moonbin or Bin) with that smile of his, thus the start of our new friendship. Since then, he became someone who always knew how to cheer me up when I was feeling down. No moment was ever dull with him by my side. 

Eunwoo, the tall, brooding black-haired and charismatic student almost everyone knew (and crushed on) of, was usually with Moonbin when we hung out together, but he normally kept to himself. Though quiet and sometimes reserved with his intimidating looks, it didn’t take long for him to break the ice with us, the three of us becoming close friends. Promising to stay like this until we went to college and beyond. Regardless if we all diverge and tread different paths, we would always converge and come back to one another. 

Four years flew by and graduation was upon us. Just like that, the two became like family to me, my ride-or-die duo. The two who were able to turn my world upside down, finding solace in a time where I thought it was nearly impossible for me to.  

My thoughts are interrupted by my “Move” ringtone—yes, I’m a huge Lee Taemin fan—looking down at my phone again to see it’s my brother calling. I sigh, picking up the call.

“What?” 

He gasps dramatically. “Is that any way to address your loving older brother after being away for so long?”

I snort, shaking my head. “Loving my ass, oppa. How are mom and dad?”

“They’re fine, living. Didn’t you tell them you’re coming home?”

“Nope, I don’t even text them that often. You already know this..”

He sighs. “Yeah, I figured.” 

There’s a slight pause on his end, but he continues. “You took the three-thirty train, right? So you’ll be here around five or so?”

“Yeah, give or take.” 

I look out the window again to see the endless stretch of greenery and flowing springs, sometimes even children playing in the fields. I grin mischievously, deciding to poke fun at my brother when he doesn’t respond right away. 

“What, you miss me?”

He makes a sound similar to throwing up. “As if. I got so used to the peace and quiet. I’m not ready for it to go away.” 

“Yah!” I realize that I had yelled a bit too loudly and eyes were now trained on me, and I bow my head in apology. I lower my voice, “You’re such an asshole.”

“Oh, I know, but you still love me anyway.”

“Shut up.”

I can hear his laugh resonate through the phone and a smile unknowingly tugs at my lips. I wouldn’t say it out loud, but it’s true. When I lived with my aunt in Busan for the duration of high school, I missed Jaehyun a lot. Though two years older than me, he didn’t seem to alienate me the way my parents do. While I hate the notion that they spoil Jaehyun endlessly and let him do as he wishes, I won’t lie and say that he was a prick about it. He could’ve been, but he never came off as selfish. I’m really close with my brother, shocking as it may be. Sibling relationships are like that—one minute you want to strangle them with their intestines and the next you’re singing duets together. Crazy, but that’s how it is for us. My parents don’t really pay me any attention, so Jaehyun decides to do that instead. Not complaining though. I’d rather take his pranking and teasing over my parents’ demands and reprimands any day.

“Aight, I’m heading out for a bit. Text me when you arrive.”

I smile again. “Will do, but make sure to get me food!”

“Let me think…” He hums, and I can practically sense the smirk on his end. “Nope. Get your own.”

“Oppa!”

Jaehyun laughs. “See you in a bit, Hyuna. Get here safely. Bye!”   

He hangs up the call before I get a chance to retort, and I scoff. Typical of my brother. He knows how much I enjoy street food, and every time he goes out, it’s almost certain that most of the time he stops somewhere to eat. Did he ever bring food back? Sure, but by the time I’d get to it, most of it was gone anyways. That only lasted a little while before I had gone upstate anyways, so he had more food for himself, I guess.

As the train barrels down the tracks, I feel my heart racing in excitement, but there’s also a slight ounce of dread. I really don’t know why. I want to believe it’s because I’ve been away for too long, but part of me knows it’s the fact that I’ll have to face my parents again. Knowing that I only have two months to decide where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do, I know the bitter truth is that those decisions won’t be left up to me. Last time, I was sent to Busan.

God knows where I’d be sent to now.

***

“Final destination of the KTX Busan-Seoul train at Seoul Station is approaching and will arrive at 05:30 PM. The doors to alight are on the right hand side. All passengers are requested to dismount the train upon arrival. Thank you.” 

That’s my stop.

Gathering my bag and hand luggage, I patiently wait for the train to pull up at the station. Seeing the familiar shops and buildings around me makes my legs bounce up and down in both excitement and anticipation. 

Four long years away from Seoul...

Before getting off, I quickly text the group chat and then my brother, letting them all know that I’ve reached safely. Side-stepping the other passengers exiting the subway doors, I carefully land onto the platform with my luggage in tow. I breathe in the air around as I stretch my arms up into the sky, the grin widening on my face.

It sure as hell feels good to be back home.

I try my best to maneuver through the crowds, but it doesn’t stop the rush of people knocking into me. At times like these, I curse my genetics for favoring my older brother instead of me in terms of height. Eventually, I come to a clearing and when my eyes glance upwards, I spot a rather familiar dark brown-haired six-foot-tall male amongst the small crowd waving me over.

“Hyuna, over here!”

I gasp, my eyes widening. “Oppa!”

He smiles as I begin walking towards him, my feet hurriedly moving across the concrete. The distance between us shortens and I abandon my luggage as he opens his arms wide. 

Only for me to sucker punch him in the stomach.

He yelps in pain, grimacing as he holds his abdomen. “Shit, that hurt. What has Aunt Sua been feeding you up there? Rocks?”

I smack his shoulder, my blood slightly boiling in anger. “Yah, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?! Do you know how much money I blew off for the bus fare?”

He straightens his back before going to rub his shoulder, then behind his neck.

“Fine, fine. My bad. I wanted to surprise you, but I guess that didn’t work, did it?” 

I cross my arms over my chest, huffing in annoyance. He sighs, nodding.

“Okay, okay, I’ll compensate you. Dinner’s on me.”

At this I grin, blinking excitedly. I grab onto his arm and shake it vigorously. “Really? You mean it? You’re the best, oppa!” 

“Look at this brat..” he taunts, shaking his head. In a flash, he headlocks me and rubs the top of my head harshly with his knuckles, upsetting the neatly-tied auburn ponytail. 

“Yah! Quit it!” I smack his arms and flail in protest, but he chuckles, saying this is what I get for cunningly finding a way to exploit him the minute I stepped back into Seoul. 

What can I say? It’s a talent. 

He lets go eventually, and I try to smooth down my already-tangled hair. I grumble incoherently but Jaehyun pulls me into his embrace, wrapping his arms around me. His free hand gently pats the side of my head in comfort.

“Welcome home, sis.”

I stand there stiff for a second before hugging back. He squeezes me tighter and I find myself smiling into his shoulder. 

“Good to be back,” I whisper. 

We stand like that for a moment before he pats my back a couple of times, us pulling away from each other soon after. He reaches behind me to grab my hand luggage as he shoulders my bag. I tell him that I can carry them just fine, but he starts walking away from the platform to the parking lot. I call out after him as I run to catch up, and I can see the corners of his mouth twitch. Jaehyun leads me to his car, a sleek matte-silver convertible Mustang. My mouth drops open in shock at its stunning beauty, my body forcing itself to remain composed for the sake of avoiding public self-embarrassment. 

He throws my luggage in the back seat before he turns to me, smirking at my expression. “You like it?”

“Shit, do I like it? I love it!” I run my fingers over its metallic surface, the silver exterior gleaming in the evening glow. Grinning, I stare up at my brother who catches my gaze as I stand next to the driver’s seat, my fingers already curled on the handle.

“Can I—”

“No.”

“Please—”

“Nope.”

I pout as I pull my hand away and step to the side. Jaehyun chuckles, rubbing my head playfully before getting into the driver’s seat and starting the car. The engine purrs to life as my brother pulls out his shades and wears them. He looks at me and cocks his head to the passenger seat. 

“Don’t just stand there. Get in.”

Smiling, I quickly make my way over to the other side and slip into the passenger seat. I barely have time to buckle in before Jaehyun speeds off. I scream in fright, but he laughs heartily, telling me to let loose.

With the wind harshly whipping around us, I close my eyes and tilt my head upwards, absorbing the remnants of my childhood in a place I’ll always call home. A place where my heart always feels at ease.

My name is Jung Hyuna. I’m eighteen years old, and this is my story.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |  

[def-initely-soul]

Can I get the "we team up for the couples contest every year as friends but this year you’re with someone else and i’m definitely Not Jealous and definitely Not Realising Feelings" prompt with taeyong? I'm asking it to be cute cause I know if I ask for sexual tension you're gonna write a novel 😂😂😂😂 so could you make it fluffy and light? :3

AHAHAHAHHAAHAHAH I-

*ignoring your jab at my inability to write anything small xD* 

ofc i’ll make it fluffy and light!

pairing: taeyong from nct x reader (f.)

prompts: we team up for the couples contest every year as friends but this year you’re with someone else and i’m definitely Not Jealous and definitely Not Realising Feelings

genre: fluff; angst; f2l; PG-13

warnings: mature language

words: 1.8k

.

.

“So how you holdin’ up?” Johnny asks you and you resist to throw your drink at him.

You’re getting honestly tired of having people ask you that. It’s the sixth time someone did! For heaven’s sake, you’re fine!

You chuckle. “I’m fine, Johnny, why wouldn’t I be?” you respond, casually taking a sip of your apple cider as you walk down the food stalls, the scents of cinnamon and pumpkin filling your nostrils.

Your town has a Halloween fair every year to celebrate the holiday, days before it’s even Halloween. It’s a great opportunity to go out during this month, as families find some time for some quality time bonding and couples walk around to bask in the crisp autumn wind. There are food stalls everywhere, having some of the most delicious treats for the holiday, a haunted house at the end of the food stalls for anyone daring and a corn maze as well. As for those more willing to take a step back and use this opportunity to relax, there is a carousel, faded and dark to fit the mood, a fortune teller’s stall, as well as a ghost train ride.

Honestly, it’s not much compared to other funfairs but you enjoy whatever you can get. Every year you and your friends come here to walk through the corn maze, to board on the ghost train ride, to eat until you’re full. And also to join the couple’s costume contest with your best friend Taeyong. You’re not a couple, not even close but you both had such magnificent ideas for couple's costumes that you decided to give it a try. And it became something like a shtick. You and Taeyong being known among your friends as the ones that joined the couple’s contest together and enduring merciless teasing at that. Even if you said numerous times there’s nothing going on between you.

But this year Taeyong decided to join with someone else. A girl from his work named Dara.

You scoff. You didn’t even know her before he announced he was gonna join with her this year. And it was completely out of the blue too! He never hinted he was interested in someone, let alone tell you might want to stop dressing up with you.

Johnny cocks an unimpressed eyebrow. “Really? Then why are you clenching at your cup like a witch draining her victim?”

Your eyes widen as they immediately fly at your hand to confirm this; only to realize Johnny is lying.

He’s smirking at you as if catching you on the act. “Made you look…” he teases and you roll your eyes, refusing to answer him.

“I don’t get it though, why won’t you admit that you’re-”

“What?” you interrupt him with a stiff voice, “Jealous? It’s because I’m not!” is your zealous reply though Johnny’s features are drawn in, in a mask of suspiciousness. 

“I would’ve said mad…” he admits and once again you freeze, realizing you’ve dug your own grave.

“But now that you’ve mentioned it… Are you jealous?” he looks at you curiously, not an ounce of teasing colouring his voice and you purse your lips together in a stubborn attempt to not give him an answer.

You desperately want to say you’re not. You can’t be. Taeyong is your best friend and who he decides to involve himself with is none of your business. You want to say those spiteful feelings inside of you are simply because he ditched you. You really do.

But somehow the words won’t come out your mouth. Somehow you can’t find it in your self to speak them into existence, instead resting heavily on your tongue and burning you.

“I-... No! Of course not…” you manage to say instead, swallowing the lump in your throat with great difficulty as you result in looking anywhere else but Johnny.

But your actions, unfortunately, lead your eyes to a much more unwanted sight. Towards the end of the stalls, near the haunted house, your eyes rest on a particular couple dressed as dead Bonnie and Clyde that talk enthusiastically, the girl’s hand resting on the guy’s shoulder.

Your chest constricts painfully, sucking in a breath as you bite roughly at your bottom lip to stop the sound that was about to leave your mouth. Your hands instinctively move upwards to hug yourself, partly telling yourself it’s because of the cold but partly knowing the actual truth.

You actually have feelings for your best friend. And it sucks to see him with someone else, doing a thing you used to do together, only they do it as a fucking actual couple.

Fuck, it seems to hurt more now that you’ve admitted it to yourself.

Your eyes sting as you struggle to not let your face fall and reveal your current state but your eyes don’t move from Dara and Taeyong, not even when Dara leans in to whisper something close to his ear with a deadly smirk. Not even when a few seconds later, Taeyong turns around to look straight at you with wide eyes. 

Shit.

You turn around immediately, knowing you won’t be able to keep the tears at bay and you spew a ridiculous excuse to Johnny before storming off. Wanting to go as far away as possible. To just disappear.

.

.

A few minutes later and you’ve hidden inside the corn maze, too late for anyone to attempt to enter it, much less the one person you’d actually want to.

Taeyong is ridiculously afraid of corn mazes, not much like you. You adore them, finding your way out of one being both thrilling and challenging for you and you’ve never had been lost in one. That’s why the only time Taeyong ever went inside one was with you.

You sniffle at the memory, wiping your tears away and try as hard as you can to not shed another. You refuse to cry anymore over something that can’t change even if it hurts like hell.

And it does. It fucking does.

But purely will isn’t enough to help you stop the tears.

You hear a shuffling coming from somewhere in the distance, signalling someone entered the maze but you pay them no attention. You only hope that in the case they see you, they will be discreet about it and leave you to your misery.

You can’t handle being around people for the time being.

“Y/N? Are you here?” the shuffling is now accompanied by a voice, a voice you know too well and you panic realizing it’s much closer now.

You hurry to get up, brushing the dirt off your bride of Frankenstein costume before walking with a fast pace deeper into the maze. 

Why the fuck is Taeyong here?! And more importantly why in the world did he think going into a maze would be a good idea? He’ll get lost!

Taeyong’s eyes catch you slipping away and at once he runs after you. “Y/N, wait! I need to talk to you!” he calls after you, following you and you curse at his stubbornness. 

You refuse to answer him as you run deeper into the maze, hoping he’ll get the hint and leave you alone. You don’t want to face him right now, not when he probably wants to call you out on your little staring earlier or tell you how he got together with Dara.

You try to pat your face dry as you rush away, hoping you didn’t mess your makeup much. After all, you’ll need to get out at some point, let’s at least save as much dignity as possible.

“Y/N, can you just wait!” Taeyong yells exasperatedly, before murmuring to himself “great, I had to get lost as well…”. You can almost hear the pout in his voice and a giggle escapes you. 

At once Taeyong snaps his head towards the sound before rushing towards you again. You curse yourself before moving again, refusing to get out of the maze cause at least this way it won’t be easy for him to find you. 

“Y/N, please wait, I have to tell you something important!” you hear him say and your heart almost stops. You were right, he wants to tell you he finally got together with Dara. Oh, god, you’re gonna cry again, shit.

You pick up the pace, running once again away from him and you hear him curse in exasperation before-.

“I LIKE YOU!” the declaration fills the empty air and it takes you a second to realise Taeyong was the one speaking. But when you do, your feet stop. They get stuck to the earth beneath you as if you’ve stepped on glue and you can’t move to save your life. Your heart beats erratically, almost out of your chest as you struggle to comprehend what he just said.

“I-... I like you and I only went out with Dara cause I’d thought it’d make you jealous enough to admit you like me too and spur you into action. But it seemed to have the opposite effect…” he reveals with a wary voice, as he sighs, tired.

You stay alert, for everything he says as you struggle to understand. So he’s not with Dara? This was all a ruse?

And most importantly, he likes you?

“I know, it was pretty stupid of me and I’ll understand if you want to stay mad at me and refuse to talk, but please can we just get out? I’ll like to look at you while I’m talking to you and, besides, you know I’ll be probably stuck here if left alone…” he jokes lightly, uncertainty in his voice.

You take a breath and your chest fills and blooms with lightness. The heartbreak from before disappears and gives its space to a wonderful feeling of lightness and hope.

You turn around to find your way to him.

After a few seconds, Taeyong sees you coming up behind a corner and he exhales in relief. Before he sees your intense stare and your firm, decisive stride as you practically march towards him and now he fears for his life.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to tell you like that, please don’t-” he pleads quickly but is soon halted by your hands grabbing at his collar and your lips on top of his.

You take him by surprise as he makes a startling noise, but then as he finally realizes the predicament he’s in, he’s quick to drive his hands on your waist as he reciprocates.

It’s a soft kiss, tender as if enveloping you in his warmth and you bask in the comfort and elation that appear with his lips. You sigh in content as you press closer and his palm cradles your cheek lovingly, his thumb running over the apple of your cheek.

You stop kissing to catch your breath, staring at each other breathlessly with the widest smiles you’ve ever seen on each other.

Because this feels right. It feels like home.

[anika-ann]

For a Smile

Type: One-shot, Reader Insert               Word count: 5400

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, OC x reader (brief)

Characters: Steve Rogers, Reader, OFC, OC

Summary: You see him run past every morning. So you smile, because he looks like a nice person. How could he not be when he smiles back and the world stops for a while to pay respect to such beauty?

And sometimes… sometimes this incredibly handsome man smiles first.

Warnings: mentions and hints of (psychically) abusive relaionship, suggestive themes, swearing, all the fluff in the world

A/N: I used to pass this guy near a café playing music every morning when I went to school and at some point, our eyes kinda met and we smiled at each other; then we did that every day. I kid you not, he’s got the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. It’s not a Hollywood-star smile, no – it’s a guy-next-door smile, heart-warming, with his eyes simply shining. He’s like a kid on Christmas Day… I could ramble on. Anyway, just so you knew what brought this on.

○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○ ♥ ○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○  

A smile costs less than electricity, and gives more light. (Scottish proverb)

Warm honey, sandstone and apricot orange melting into indigo, cerulean blue and stone-grey sky. Merigold playing with salmon and rose pink, teasing each other and making space to the warmer shades of orange.

You watched the beautiful colours of sunrise as you shifted your legs for a bit, causing the simple plank hanging on two tattered ropes sway, a smile tugging on your lips.

It was a little childish really, or it may appear so to anyone who would be passing by; but given what an early riser you were, just so you could watch this breath-taking game of colours, the little miracle of nature, no person could question you as you were dangling your feet off the old swing.

On your way to work, if the time allowed it, you would always make a stop on your favourite spot; a no-name park in upstate New York you were walking through every day, rather calm and drunks-free at the early hour.

Once upon a time, someone had placed a simple swing on one of the trees farther from the path. You sent a silent thank you every time you parked your behind there. You weren’t a monster; if a kid wanted to sit here, you would have gladly (...reluctantly) made space for them, but they seemed to always be more mesmerized by the playground with the actual swings, the chutes, the monkey bars and the sandpit. You couldn’t say you complained though, having the old-fashioned swing for yourself.

It was childish, perhaps; though your mother had once chosen that you should be going into accounting and so you had. Numbers and bills were things even adults hated, but that was what being old enough meant. You didn’t mind it too often, plunging into them for living, but… you needed to compensate, so you felt entitled.

Plus, the motion of the swing was soothing, as if magically transporting you back to your childhood indeed, with less worries, more ease and pure mind.

Yeah, sitting on the swing was your favouri-

Rapid staccato of feet hitting the ground in the distance, no doubt scaring off the birds chiming their morning songs, reached your ears and you had to admit you wouldn’t be completely honest with yourself if you said this was the favourite moment of your day only because of the aforementioned reasons.

There was one more.

It had strong long sweatpants-clad legs, broad shoulders in a sports t-shirt with seams crying for help, blond hair and-

Your heart melted along with your brain as your lips curled up in a genuine smile you sent in return.

-and the most beautiful smile in the whole universe.

You never spoke. Didn’t say hello. You never even nodded in mutual acknowledgement.

You just… smiled at each other.

And that was your favourite moment of the day crafted to perfection. A breath-taking sunrise, almost eclipsed by a mesmerizing display of the row of perfect white teeth framed by plush coral red lips and the twinkle in beautiful inviting eyes of a stranger.

You knew his name despite never exchanging a single word. Everyone knew his name. But Captain Rogers – Steven Grant Rogers – was a name that held no meaning. He didn’t know yours and probably never would; so strangers was who you were. A couple of strangers exchanging a smile every morning and lightening up (hopefully) each other’s day.

It always felt nice when you glanced at someone on the street, then just… somehow smiled and they smiled back, didn’t it? So what if you were an adult woman dealing with numbers for Stark Industries sitting on a swing and he was a deservedly treasured national icon?

It made no difference.

Just two people sharing a tiny piece of their day for a smile.

○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○ ♥ ○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○  

“You’re insane,” your colleague stated dryly as she walked into the office at seven thirty, already finding you with an empty coffee cup, your fingers flying over the keyboard.

“Huh?” you raised your eyes from the screen on autopilot, not really paying attention.

You still noticed Harry rolling her eyes; it was just that distinctive.

“I said that you’re insane, you crazy-ass lark. My brain isn’t even awake yet. To be fair, I’m ninety percent sure I met Captain Handsome in the hall along with our boss, so it’s hard to tell if I’m dreaming or not, having a vision like that.”

“Captain Handsome?” you frowned, your mind racing, desperately trying to remember who was Harriet’s newest crush. ‘Captain Handsome’ could be literally anyone.

“Our resident Star-Spangled Man, you dummy. You’re low on caffeine. Or sleep. That’s what you get, getting up in such an ungodly hour…” she hummed, crossing her arms on her chest as she looked at you sceptically, a drop of disappointment in her eyes.

Oh. Oh! That made sense; if the man was with Tony Stark, the range of options narrowed significantly, especially since your friend had called him a captain. Except it didn’t make any sense at all.

“What was he doing here? I mean… since when is he wandering in our department? It’s all across the compound here from the training area.”

“Well, look who’s actually awake and bright-minded…” It was your turn to roll your eyes at your friend. “My point exactly. No clue, but lemme tell you – seeing that ass? Definitely made my day,” she threw over her shoulder as she stalked to the coffee machine and you couldn’t but chuckle at her bluntness.

Your stranger had an amazing smile, that was true. But your gaze did slide elsewhere on occasion too; which was why you would never try to disprove Harry’s claim.

“We might have the Ironman for a boss, but, girl… I’d like to know what Rogers’ ass is made of then,” she added and you burst into another fit of giggles, your face feeling hot all of sudden when your mind unhelpfully supplied with ‘vibranium’.

What would it feel like?

Yeah, you definitely needed to go back to your numbers before your impure thoughts got the best of you.

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The first time you two met outside the park, you were in a bar.

You hadn’t seen him for almost a month, assuming he went on a long-drawn mission; one that had ended well, clearly, since he was out drinking. Just eyeing his companions and instantly noting his body language, you could tell he was suffering. Like, not literally suffering, but it was very much obvious he was not feeling comfortable.

His eyes were drifting all over the place, as Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes laughed loudly, patting his shoulders while a hint or red dusted his cheeks, and then they fell on you.

His face was screaming ‘save me!’; yet, his smile was still as warm and kind as ever, an impossible spark within his irises, visible even from the distance. That twinkle was always the biggest mystery to you, because logically, no person could have eyes so bright, but here he was, proving your claim wrong.

Your lips spread in a smile automatically and encouraged by your second drink, you considered adding a small silly wave.

Before you could execute the decision, the result of your two last braincells arguing whether it would be more silly or sweet, an arm sneaked around your shoulders and your smile widened on instinct at the sensation. You turned your head to Cade and met his lips halfway to yours.

You had been dating for almost a month now and this inconspicuous guy from logistic of a giant company that was surprisingly not Stark Industries was a dream coming true. He was showering you with so much attention you weren’t sure he was real. Late-night conversations via phonecalls or texts, good morning, good night, kisses that lasted long enough for you to forget that you in fact needed oxygen, touches that set you on fire. He was easy to fall in love with.

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout that got you smilin’ so wide, babe?” he whispered to your ear, grazing your earlobe with his teeth.

Gosh, you wanted him. The first sex hadn’t been so great, Cade chasing his own release, but hey, first times were always hard in a new relationship. The more were you excited about your second time and you were confident the second time would happen tonight.

“Nah, just smiling at strangers. You know that feeling, so nice, when you just toss a smile and they smile back?” your eyes found his, only to see him frown.

“I like it better when you smile for me, babe. What did some stranger do for you to deserve that?” he hummed discontentedly, pouting adorably as his hand slid lower to squeeze your hip possessively. It sent a spark through your body, a lightning striking right into your core.

“Just teasing you, Cade. I was thinking about how I lucked out,” you batted your eyelashes and a slow delicious smirk played with the corner of his mouth all of sudden, intensifying the heat inside of you.

“Wanna get out of here, pretty thing? Lemme show you how lucky you are?” he whispered, the pad of his thumb grazing your lower lip, pulling it down a fraction. “Or maybe… show me how much you think you lucked out, huh? How much you appreciate being mine?”

God, yes.

Judging by the glint in his eyes and the hungry kiss that lasted too short – but too long for such a public place – he didn’t need a verbal confirmation. He swung by the bar to pay for your drink and practically dragged you out of the rather crowded space. Your head was spinning a bit and you couldn’t tell whether it was excitement or alcohol. Either way, you really, really liked it.

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“You know that Cade was a dick right?” Harry noted nonchalantly while she handed you a cup of coffee and assessed (correctly) that you were sulking again, thinking back to that one particular night when you had noticed the first sign – or you would have if you hadn’t been such a goddamn idiotic goose of a woman, drunk on top of that.

You sighed and sipped your punishingly bitter dose of caffeine.

You were positively brooding and you didn’t care if it affected anyone else. The world apparently hated you and you couldn’t quite blame it.

Not even your precious strangers-exchanging-smile moments felt the same anymore. First, your stranger had started smiling less brightly after your encounter at the bar and then, even if it had changed, you wouldn’t be able to tell, because you were too wrapped in your own misery. Even the curve of his lips looked sad, which was a stupid thing to say, because he had no way of knowing about either Cade turning out to be an abuser-in-making or about you breaking things off with him and cracking your fragile heart in the process, while yelling at yourself mentally every morning and still longing for Cade’s arms around you since it always felt oh, oh so good to be held…

You recognized the signs early, but not soon enough. You let it escalate into him trying to control when you went out and with whom, him lashing out when you wouldn’t respond to his text in longer than five-minutes time, letting him yell at you when you missed his call… he loved you, after all, he just missed you and was afraid you were with someone else, and oh babe, come here, you can make it up to me…

Your sister had gone through something similar, for god’s sake. You should have noticed sooner. You should have known better. But no, you had allowed your body, your twat to be precise, to rule your brain and that had been stupid.

Cade had tried to get in touch several times after your break-up, even waiting in front of your apartment until you would go out once; you might have threatened him with a restraining order after that particular day and he had stopped quickly after that, only two of three attempts with a new e-mail address and number to get pass you blocking his previous ones.

Still. It made you miserable. And perhaps a bit self-hateful.

You deserved every bitter drop of Harry’s horrible coffee and more.

“I was being blind and stupid,” you opposed and returned to your figures, deciding your exchange was over. Figures were clear enough; they were easy to read and didn’t make your brain drunk on endorphins and other very specific hormones allowing you to act like a teenage girl, excited at her first boyfriend groping her. “Thanks for the coffee.”

A huff sounded above your head and suddenly your swivel chair was being yanked back and turned around, a pair of strict chocolate eyes boring into your soul with startling clarity. Harry’s fingers were wrapped around the armrests as she was leaning into your space.

You backed into your chair instinctively. She looked menacing.

“He was a charming bastard from what I heard and his type always knows how to manipulate people, letting them see what he wants them to see. It’s not your fault. You’re one badass of a woman, smart as hell for noticing before it escalated. You’re my hero. Mine and every other person’s who has ever been in or even heard of an abusive relationship. You can do better than him. It’s a funny coincidence they spelled his name wrong anyway.”

You blinked away your sudden tears, immensely grateful for her words that somehow wormed their way inside your very core (you blamed the intense stare that reminded of your mother’s when she was giving you the kind of talk that was too serious for you to handle) and yet you tilted your head in confusion, not understanding the meaning of her last statement.

“Huh? His… his name?” you stuttered, baffled.

Harry positioned your chair back to its place with a grin and went back to her own business.

“Clearly, they added an ‘E’ at the end. What a stupid typo…” she threw over her shoulder cheekily and when you caught up, understanding her point, you released the first honest laughter in what felt like a year.

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Your life had been set off to better course after that short conversation. You felt like you were healing every day, finding yourself lighter. Happier. Freer of the baggage Cade had tried to left you with. The sensation was indescribable and it radiated from you; some days more noticeably than others.

You found yourself indulging the blond stranger’s smiles once more, finally seeing the spark in his eyes again, the genuine curve of his lips warming your heart and starting off your day in the best way imaginable.

Naturally, life had a reliable means of showing you it could suck.

Right when you thought that you were fine, it delivered another blow; your favourite place in the world… ceased to exist.

Someone put the swing in the park down.

They just… erased it from existence.

Maybe they considered it dangerous. Maybe they were being dicks. Maybe they thought it was old and ugly. It didn’t quite matter.

You could weep, mourning your intimate inanimate friend.

You didn’t cry. But it was a damn close call as you shuffled towards the playground and eyed it sceptically. You knew it wouldn’t be the same and not just because the swings were in a plain sight, but they also looked too fancy, to actually child-like and— they weren’t your swing. Your sanctuary. Your private space. Your secret place you never told anyone about, not Cade or your previous boyfriends, not your family, not Harry or other friends, not to anyone.

You watched the sun rise on the horizon, ridiculously heavy feeling in your chest, ignorant to the rest of the world.

God, you hated Mondays. You already knew this week was about to be a disaster.

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“There’s a swing outside in the green area.”

“Huh?” you hummed distractedly, too deep into figures to register more than the sound of your friend’s voice. What was her name again? What was yours? What day was today? What was the time? Had you already had lunch? Had the lunch-time already passed…?

A chuckle followed by a to-be offended tone responded to your intelligent way of communicating.

“I’m starting to think ‘Huh’ is my name with how often you call me that,” Harry (aha!) remarked with a hint of sass, but repeated herself, because she knew she shouldn’t take it personal that you didn’t quite payed her any attention. You were a person who would get sucked into their own world, too focused on one task to acknowledge anything else. “A swing. In our compound park. It’s kinda cute, hidden from a plain sight though, a simple wooden thing.”

You slowly raised your eyes to hers, your pupils widening with surprise. Your pulse was roaring in your ears, your heartbeat no doubt shaking your whole frame.

Harry was telling you that there was… a swing. In the compound area. Hidden from everyone’s prying eyes, at least partly.

Why?

How?

You could only come up with one ridiculous theory which involved you, but that idea alone was laughable. Why would anyone do that for you? More importantly, how did anyone know-

“You think it’s an invitation for children? Like, is ‘bring your kids to work’ day happening any time soon? ‘cause, not to be rude and greedy, but one swing doesn’t seem like— hey!” Harry called after you, but you could barely hear her as you jumped to your feet, your heels be damned, and strode through the halls with zero regards to anyone in your way.

Not that there was a soul; people actually worked around here, too busy to wander the halls.

The thing was, that one theory about the swing didn’t just involve you. It involved one more person, but that person was a stranger to you and had no reason to even… acknowledge you. Besides the obvious part of your day that no longer existed – not in the way it used to. But the thought was simply laughable.

A different part of your brain raised a figurative sceptical eyebrow, argumenting that you had no better explanation for the phenomenon.

Because… you loved Harry. She knew about your traditional early morning watching the sunrise, but not about the swing. The swing was always a secret, no one knew, except… except one particular guy who always passed you on his morning run and exchanged a smile with you and just happened to work at the very same compound you did and technically had the power to pull the strings to make this happen.

With your heart hammering in your chest, you gasped for fresh air when you finally made it out of the building, your eyes searching for a calm spot, a tree in whose shades you could possibly find a prove of Harry not pulling your leg.

Your heart positively stopped when your eyes fell on the simple plank hanging on two ropes, indeed offering a safe space for anyone who decided to sit there in search for serenity.

You felt tears stinging in your eyes, your feet moving of their own will despite semi-high heels digging into the ground an inch with each step, bringing you closer to that little, yet breath-taking miracle. A chuckle escaped your lips when your trembling fingers brushed the grey ropes, more of your senses acknowledging that this was in fact happening.

Your hand followed the line of the rope, sliding to the plank, only to notice a rough sensation on your fingertips in the corner. A carving, you realized.

Tears of surprise actually welled up when you recognized they were initials. Your initials.

How-- how was that possible?

‘Sit down, you dummy!’ your consciousness cried out exasperatedly. ‘It’s clearly for you!’

“But why?” you asked it under your breath incredulously, thousands of questions ruminating, no answers on the horizon.

Regardless, you reluctantly lowered yourself, shocked when your feet dangled above the ground in precisely the same way they used to-- they used to in the park. It was even installed in the same height.

Reverently, you gave the swing a test-drive, just tiny motions of your feet to try it out.

It was perfect.

Your gaze fell on a sign on the tree trunk, small, subtle and harmonizing with the place without a fault.

Sanctuary of the kind ones. Do not disturb, it read.

You giggled breathlessly, lightheaded and with no care in the world.

That naturally changed when you spotted your very much expectant colleague in the distance, her arms crossed on her chest, figuratively tapping her foot and screaming questions without saying a single word.

The thing is, you thought, I have no idea how to answer.

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Perhaps it was naïve, a child-like trust and excitement, but the next day, you went to your new spot expecting to enjoy the sunrise there and not to be disturbed indeed.

You weren’t.

What you couldn’t quite prepare yourself for was the single daisy lying on the wood, starling you to no end. Hesitating all of sudden, you searched your surroundings, wondering if you interrupted someone else’s plan. Perhaps someone had the same initials as you and whoever made this happen had a different person in mind, doing it for them and the swing was just a funny coincidence.

But then in the middle of your mussing – on the swing, because, screw it, you might as well enjoy this since no one had kicked you out yet – a familiar figure ran past, gracing you with a beautiful smile, once again without a word and with a shy gaze falling to the ground after you met their eyes. With that, it… actually started to settle.

He had done this for you. For some incredible inexplicable reason… your smiling ‘stranger’ offered you a kindness of unseen measures.

And as if it wasn’t enough, you would find a different flower on the wood every day for the whole week. They weren’t even fancy flowers, which made it absolutely magical. Daisy. Tulip. Lilly. No red roses, only cute blossoms, matching the simplicity of the swing.

Harry was nearing the verge of insanity due to your goofy smiles and flowers in your hands; but you remained tight-lipped like an international spy during an interrogation, too afraid that if you said it out loud, sharing that ridiculous impression you were getting these days with anyone, your bubble would burst.

And surely enough, as if you jinxed it mentally, the next Wednesday, no flower waited for you.

It was ridiculous how your mood died instantly. It could have had hundreds of explanations including the one that he went for a mission, because he was Captain Freaking America, in case your stupid heart forgot, but nope, you would still feel the corners of your lips turn down.

You watched the shades of orange bleeding into blue and grey, lost in thought and with unsettling longing in your heart.

You suspected his steps sounded purposely loud when they came from behind you, where you wouldn’t expect them. You didn’t need to see the familiar Nikes on his feet to know it was him; you doubted anyone else would approach you, let alone at such early hour.

Yet you would lie saying your heart didn’t skip a beat when he stopped in his slow tracks by your side, steady feet next to your dangling ones, and you had his identity confirmed.

Your throat went dry and stiff, your voice dying before it could form.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he whispered reverently, not disturbing the peace of the indeed lovely scenery in front of you.

You didn’t dare to look away from the sunrise as your voice came out unfairly scratchy, a stark contrast to his deep and smooth one that felt like a caress on your skin.

“It is.”

Silence fell on your pair again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The birds sung their morning songs, waking up the world and you didn’t think words were needed. Except you owed him something, and you wanted to say it.

Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from the painting by the most amazing artist, the nature itself, you casted a glance at him.

You didn’t realize you had never seen him still; duh, you did know that, but what didn’t quite click in your brain was that you would be able to see him in all his glory, soft smile and an absent gaze framed by long eyelashes, shadows casted all over his face and body, playing games which gave him a surprisingly ethereal aura for a man of his built.  

Your stomach tied itself into a knot at the sight and the ‘thank you’ got once again stuck in your throat when his eyes turned to you as well, you breath stolen from your lungs, your lips parting uselessly and curling into a smile on instinct when his did.

Despite seeing the too startling sparkle up close, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the deep blue with a hint of green of his irises. It was just too captivating, locking you in a sweet cage you didn’t feel trapped in, but free and suddenly able to breathe in again.

“Thank you,” slipped from your lips unwittingly, shocking to your own ears.

The very same hint of scarlet you remembered from the infamous bar encounter dusted his cheeks, his smile softening as he turned a bashful gaze away, now fixated on the ground.

“Just wanted to see you smile again. Best part of my day,” he admitted, peeking at you from the insanely long and thick eyelashes and you could melt on spot, dizzying vertigo overcoming you at the sweet words. Good thing you were sitting.

You had no idea how to respond, your heartbeat thumping in your temples, your face feeling too hot and chest pleasantly warm at such admission. Your teeth went to chew on your lip and you abruptly stopped yourself. Bad, bad habit.

“Was… was that the only thing? Because the swing would be more than enough, let alone with my initials, and the flowers-“

“Maybe-“ he softly interrupted your lame attempt at flirting which had turned into a babble, but with same nerves coursing his voice unless your senses were playing tricks on you. A shiver ran down your spine at the realization that he might be as nervous as you were-- the strangest thing in the world, wouldn’t it be? “Maybe I could tell you… over a coffee?”

A daffodil entered your field of vision, happy, bright and yet somehow shy in his big hand and you didn’t think twice before accepting it, your fingers brushing his skin in the process only half-accidentally. Passing you the flower, he offered you a hand so he could assist you in standing up.

Ah, as if he knew your knees felt wobbly and uncooperating with the overwhelming turn of events.

You didn’t hesitate to accept that either. You had a hunch that the manners of a forties’ man would be offended if you didn’t anyway.

“Thank you. Again.”

The twinkle in his eyes shone brighter at your words, his smile widening.

“My pleasure.”

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“If I trip over something, I’ll bully you into carrying me everywhere for the next month,” you threatened in a joking manner as your boyfriend of one year led you through his apartment with his huge palm sprawled over your eyes, while his other gently rested on your lower back, making sure you maintained some balance.

“I wouldn’t complain about that. Are you serious? Because I just might let you trip then…” he teased back and you could hear the grin in his voice, mesmerized by the happy note in it. You would roll your eyes at him fondly, but he wouldn’t see it, so there was no point.

“Don’t you dare…”

“Okay, let’s stop now,” he whispered in your ear, his hand shifting to your hip to squeeze lightly, causing you to shiver. You and Steve had taken your time when it came to physical aspect of your relationship (past certain bases anyway), so a touch like that still sent a delicious electrifying feeling through your whole body.

As if you weren’t excited enough ever since the moment he had told you he had had a surprise for you.

Chewing on your lower lip, you followed his gentle instruction and stopped in your tracks.

“Should I be afraid?” you asked for the fourth time in the past five minutes.

“Terrified,” he confirmed in a joking manner. “You ready?”

Not waiting for your answer, he uncovered your eyes and with a deep inhale, you snapped them open.

Only for your breath to hitch at the sight in front of you.

“Oh my god... it’s beautiful!” you exclaimed, a surprised chuckle escaping past your lips.

In the corner of the living room, soft marigold pillows laid in a circular hammock chair coloured in the indigo of an early sunrise, practically begging for you to jump in and nestle there with a book and relax.

Instantly reminded of how you met Steve in the first place, you couldn’t but spun on your heels and threw your arms around him, strong arms eagerly welcoming you as his chest shook with hushed chuckle.

“Glad you like it,” he murmured, hiding his face in your hair, raising you from the floor effortlessly. “Happy anniversary, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! Happy anniversary, Steve. This truly is amazing. I love it!”

“But not more than me?”

It was your turn to chuckle as you retreated, placing a kiss on his nose and earning a pout that simply had to be kissed away.

“No, Steve, not even this amazing hammock compares to you. I’ll show you exactly how much I love you in a sec, I just have to test it out,” you promised.

He released you with no protest and watched with a fond smile as you climbed in with a child-like excitement, the corners of his eyes twinkling. He slowly made his way to you as the hammock swung gently with your weight and you sent him a delighted grin as he sat on his heels in front of you, his hands landing on the edges so he had the control over the movements.

“What’s the verdict?” he pried softly and you opened your mouth to respond with enough enthusiasm to power the state of New York for a year; but he continued. ”Is it comfy enough for you to… make you consider- that maybe-- you could… stay here more often?”

Your breath hitched, your throat swelling when you got a pretty good idea of what he was asking from his serious gaze. Yet, you needed to make sure, butterflies in your stomach flipping their wings wildly as you leaned forward, invisible magnets pulling you towards him.

“And by ‘more often’ you mean-“

“All the time,” he whispered, his eyes roaming your face nervously, trying to spy a reaction, read the answer in your expression alone.

You chuckled incredulously, ecstatic at such proposition, and placed your palms to both sides of Steve’s face, grateful for his grip on the hammock and trusting him not to let you faceplant on him with how hazardous the kiss you gave him was.

Your eyelids fluttered close, but you felt his smile as his lips engaged in a tender dance with yours, one of his hands sneaking to the side of your neck to pull you closer, tilting your head as his tongue teased your lips to part.

How could you deny him anything even when you felt like you were about to fall face-down any second? He would be under you when you landed anyway. What more could you wish for-

“I love you,” he breathed to your mouth as he broke the kiss for one damned second that felt like eternity; one second in which you forgot to suck more air in even when given the opportunity. Who needed oxygen anyway? You could breathe Steve in and live blissfully, it was what you were trying to do for the past minute and it was glorious- “That’s a yes, right?”

A chuckle escaped you as you dodged another kiss, his lips landing in your hair instead, the hammock swaying hazardously. Mm, seemed like your supersoldier was too distracted to watch your balance.

“Yes. The hammock totally convinced me,” you teased him lightly, an idea striking you when you said those words. Climbing down as he was still sitting in front of you on his heels, you lowered yourself on him, nestling in his lap and leaning to his ear and sharing your not necessarily filthy thought in a breathless whisper. “But I think I still like sitting right here much better.”

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S.R. masterlist

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Tags: @mermaidxatxheart​

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Thank you for reading :-*

P.S. - Keep smiling; at the people you love whenever you can, at strangers and at the person you see in the mirror :))

[boogiewrites]

Never Break the Chain Pt. 2

Part 2 of 5

Characters: Javier Peña x OFC

Summary:  Javier and Esme's first time seeing each other in almost twenty years. A photograph leads to an obsessive hunt for the woman he thought was dead. They both find they got where they wanted. But is it what they want now?

Warnings/Tags: Tension. Big reunited kiss. 

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

Time passes, as it always has and always will. It stopped for no man, not even Javier. Seeing his first love fade into nothing had left him a different man. Walls came up, barriers were built that his enemies would even be impressed by. She’d done him a favor, snapping him out of the young man’s dream, but he felt he had nothing left but trying to help once she was gone. So he threw himself into his work.

Sure there were other women. He thought he loved some, but would always leave them. He always hurt them and that wasn’t his intention precisely but they would thank him years later. He was what they would refer to in close company as “a dodged bullet”. He’d been called far worse.

He despised his cliche reactions to his trauma sometimes. Drinking, smoking, being a general pain in the ass, renowned and proud asshole was easier. Burying yourself in prostitutes and let them take away the thoughts for a little while was the easiest. He would fantasize he could help them, even save some of them. He surely wasn’t getting his hero complex stroked when it came to his work. He had a soft spot for women, he had learned the hard way the shit deal they’d landed when they were born. He couldn’t do much...but he could try to help. So he did. Loss after loss he kept trying. This was that bit of good Esme had always believed in. He wasn’t sure how much longer he would have it so he made the best of it while he could.

The night before was nothing knew, an old habit at this point for him. He went out and got a woman, he’d pour every bit of good in him into her, convincing himself he still had it. He’d make them feel good, listen to them, things that were in short supply in their lives from men. He could be that good guy exception, if only for a short while. It felt nice to not be looked at with disgust or fear. The slivers of affection kept him going after dark. He’d leave them breathless, moans turning to laughs as they dressed, joking they might not make him pay. But they always took the money. And he offered it with no judgment, pulling his jeans on and halfway through a highball glass as his lean outstretched arm offer up their compensation for making him feel something good and push out the bad thoughts for a short while. He could be making worse decisions.

He rubs his temple, suppressing a groan as he slid his way into the uncomfortable chair at the beaten-up metal table. The chatter of his coworkers all making their way into the room was grating but nothing he couldn’t ignore. Morning debriefing, something he gave a shit about. Well, work was the one thing he gave a shit about right now, hyper-focused on the clock and trying to drown out the obsession off the clock. It was a dynamic that he was still trying to perfect. He downs the hot black coffee in his hand and nods at the secretary just outside the doorway, “Get me another, sugar. No sugar.” he winks and sends her off. She side-eyed him and went on her way, that was just Pena to her, horny but harmless. He cracks his back, a grunt before landing his elbows on the table to focus, the overblown commander coming in with a handful of photos, spreading them on the table as they talked about what they always did, the cartel.

Pena tries to approach everything individually, but there was only so much range these guys had, and not seeing them all as one giant collection of piss ants with assault rifles was something getting harder and harder to do. So as new and old names were said, he watched the board fill out, the line attaching known connections and new ones. There had been a new wave of intel, something Pena and his partner Murphy were used to being the ones doing, but he wouldn’t complain if someone else finally wanted to sack up and their fucking job like they were supposed to.

“So we have our old friends,” a slap of photos to the board. “Then there’s a new round of boys coming in.” he taps the newest addition to the board. “Seems we’re getting inbred with the other families, the jewel smugglers, the miners...seems we’re trying to venture out and expand our already impressive portfolio.” he snorts.

“They can never just be fucking satisfied with their millions.” someone groans and complains.

“It’s a good chance try to take them down too.” Murphy shrugs.

“Eyes on the prize, kiss ass,” Pena says quietly, accepting his coffee without a second glance. “Do we know these women?” he asks with a nod in the direction.

“Typical.” Murphy rolls his eyes.

“No. Our assumption is prostitutes. Nothing new there.” the commander goes on, but he quickly becomes background noise as Pena stands and moves toward the board. He stood, hips jutted forward, eyes scanning, hand over his mouth in thought. Once he saw the new pictures he hadn’t heard another word the men had said. “PENA!” barked his way grabs his attention as he casually shifts his attention.

“Mmmph. Yeah.” he mutters, eyes moving back to the board.

“I was informing you, you’d be doing street intel on these newcomers.”

“Yeah,” he says disinterested, thumbing his lip before placing his hands on his hips. “Do we have these photos in color?”

The question catches the room off guard. “Why?” he’s met with annoyed opposition.

“This woman…” he taps the photo of a woman with a sly smile on the arm of a very powerful man. Dark waves teased and a heart-shaped face buried in a fur coat collar worth more than he made in a year. He clears his throat. “I’ve seen her before…”

“They’re whores Javi, of course, you have.” Murphy leads the room in a wave of amused hums and chuckles.

“No I’m serious,” he says with no inflection, catching his partner’s attention. “Do we have a location on them if there’s no color?”

“Why’s color important?”

He’s quiet for a moment, jaw tense and eyes blinking, baffled at what he was allowing himself to think. “Her eyes… were green.” MUrphy readjusts himself in his seat, watching Pena’s eyes carefully. He could swear they looked sad.

“What information we’ve got is here.” the commander points at the table with its thick manilla envelopes.

Javier nods with no spoken response, staying in place until the room is empty except for a hesitant Murphy who approaches him. “Who is she?” he asks quietly.

He shakes his head in response. “It can’t be her,” there’s a heavy pause, “But it...fuck it looks like her…” his voice trails off and Murphy is left with more questions.

“Well, are you gonna answer me or just write poetry about her Javi?”

“She’s…” he sighs and sucks his teeth. “She’s supposed to be dead.”

“Did you-?”

“No… no… nothing like that.” his voice still quiet. “I knew her… fuck...over a decade ago now.”

“So we can add hunting ghosts to our agenda now too. Great.” Murphy takes it lightly and presses his lips together. He stares at Javi, his eyes dark and focused. He was left with more questions than answers. His money was still on it being a hooker. It’s not as if Pena had even talked about Esme since the investigation when he was young. His partner may have his back in life or death situations, and they may have been close, but no one knew about her. Pena had hoped to keep it that way. He hoped he was wrong. He hoped it wasn’t her. Because if it was… well he didn’t know what he’d do.

---------------------------------------------------

Esme didn’t know it but with every minute that passed, she was being proven right about her belief in her first love, that if he knew she was alive, that he would find her.

Esme had ran, a bug out bag down the river and no trace left behind. She made her way south over the years, learning her craft and making friends in the right places. She’d started with rich men, especially rich white men trying to make a living off exploiting her fellow man in Mexico. It had been almost too easy. They thought nothing of her and wore her as if she were a watch; on their arm and shiny and proof of their wealth. She would gain access, gather intel and then sweep in and take the goods and ghost out.

Esme had been legally declared dead and was now living as Estelle. She had so many names over the years but her current incarnation was Estelle. And she was a star. She’d become what she wanted, she was rich and self-reliant. She needed no one and had her fun as she craved it. There were men and women and drugs and jewels and for so long it had been a pleasant hazy dream. But the novelty of it wore off, she grew bored,  a witness to her hypocrisy, growing soft and lazy with her indulgence. When she emerged from her haze and saw the state of the world around her she knew things had changed. Narcos now ruled the world. The government bowed to them, the poor worshipped them. She saw they were the future, the new leaders. And for her, that meant that’s where she had to be.

She found herself once again sharp and full of adrenaline. Her new role took real savvy and cunning. Otherwise, she’d end up dead for real. She cozied up, working for Narcos to steal for them. It wasn’t hard in skill, but it was in the amount of sexist shit she had to deal with. She’d killed men for laying hands on her, and worse. She’d pulled knives and guns and made frown men piss themselves as she threatened them with words they’d never heard women utter up to that point. Most of the leaders would laugh until they cried after the fact, seeing a woman act in such away. She entertained them. They underestimated her, saw her as some novelty pet that fetched things and entertained them. She could handle that. As long as she got paid.

Following the groups, making her way around it made sense she found herself in Columbia. She knew it was dangerous, but she was addicted to it. It filled the void of sex and drugs for her for the most part, although she did partake among her peers from time to time. She thought it made her admirable, independent, and a shining example of what a woman could be if she had the nerve to do it. She was, to a degree, but she was also wrong. She lacked the softness in her life anyone, not just a woman needed. A void where no love or trust or intimacy was in her life she filled with material things and lists of her accomplishments. if she kept busy and looking ahead she wouldn’t be still king enough to face her demons.

Except she was about to come face to face with her biggest one.

—

As was his way, Javier had become a bit obsessed. He had to know if this woman was Esme. He’d been tracking her and was able to have DEA level observation to do it. It was a personal mission he’d been able to spin to look like a cartel one. There was a connection, she was seen with them, but little was known outside of that. After he’d put the word out for the beautiful woman with green eyes it hadn't taken long before someone scorned by her leaked information on her next job. The informant knew what his boss wanted to be stolen and when she’d be there. Normally no agent or cop would care to pay attention to her, or some jewels being stolen,  she was just some woman to them. But serendipitous timing made sure she became THE woman for one of them.

She practically waltzed into the store. She scaled a fence, a wall and came through a window but for her, that was practically begging her to steal from them. The rooms were dark, silent except for the sounds of her feet as she made her way into the back, unseen and unbothered. It wasn’t until she’d stopped to admire her score before snatching it they the clicking of a gun behind her caught her attention.

He’d waited in the shadows, and none too patiently. With the aim set to intimidate, not kill, he Easter no more time. “Who are you?” It came out as an order.

Her head snapped up, back still to the faceless voice she felt was all too familiar. She blinks, the former goal now removed and replaced with a flood of emotion. She remains silent, her turn to be shocked like he was when he saw her face in the photos.

“Turn around.” Another order. The voice was deeper, darker now but still made her feel the same way.

She turns, and painfully slow. She doesn’t meet his intense gaze immediately, reading his body language first and calming her racing mind. There’s no way it was him.

There’s no way it’s her, his mind reassures him. But as soon as her eyes raise to meet his his stomach drops. He was right.

“Javi?” It was almost a whisper, for the first time in she couldn’t remember when she didn’t hide her emotions in her face.

The gun falls first, his sense falling to the wayside as it slipped into its place in the back waist of his jeans. His frame was broader, still lean moves towards her with an earned confidence now. He doesn’t speak, staring at her as if she might not be real. She gives him his time. He’d earned it. “It really is you.” It was his turn to let the veil fall, dark eyes shining in the low, cool light.

She nods. “Javi I can explain.” She begins, prepared to apologize and ask forgiveness before asking him why the hell he was there at all. They were a long way from home.

“You’re alive.” A rather obvious statement that made her smile. It was all he could handle.

“I can explai-“ a quick burst of words before they’re cut off by his mouth landing against hers. She hadn’t expected this. She was prepared for many things last but not this, at least not for him to be kissing her. “Javi my-“ she tries to get out but his hands are already on her cheeks, hot and damp and certain. She lets her concern fade for a moment, it would all be fine. She gives in to it, lets him take the lead, and pull her against him roughly. The anger and hurt coming through in his grip on her back and face as they kissed breathlessly. He stole her focus without trying, there was the signature huff from his nose, the nuzzle into her between separating to catch his breath but he felt different. But so did she.

Where they once held differences in certainty they now held the opposite. He kissed her like he just found out his first love was alive after decades of vices to cover the loss. Because he had. Every woman and experience he’d had between her and now, every skill and thus gained confidence was clear and apparent. This was not a boy handling a girl. He was a man handling his woman.

And there she was, blindsided and touch starved, passion and intimacy starved being devoured by the only man she’d ever truly loved. The only man she’d ever let in and see her for what she was. The only man that knew Esmeralda. It was a raw and painful ache that emanated from her chest as she clutched her hand around his wrist and the other gripped his shirt in her hand. She gave in because she knew it wouldn’t last long, and after it was over she’d miss it.

With eyes squeezed shut, his forehead pressed to hers, his statuesque nose gently rubbing against hers he exhales hot against her face. “Esme…” he pulls back and holds her face, demanding her focus.

“It’s been so very long since someone’s called me that.” she sighs and puts her hands on his forearms.

“Since I called you that?”

She nods and smiles, face pressed into his hand.

“Maybe it’s about time people called you that again.” he pauses and looks her over with a hard brow, he couldn't hide his simmering anger underneath the confusion, relief, and affection. “Where the fuck have you been?” She sighs in response. “Why the hell are you HERE?”

“Same as you. Work.”

“Why are you with those men? Don’t you know who they are? What they do?”

“Why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?”

“Why Esme?” his eyes water and his hands squeeze her face a bit too tightly before a wave of dizziness hit him.

“Same reason now as then,” she whispers, his grip loosening and not hearing her response, she slicks his dark hair back as his eyes start to roll around in their sockets. “You're fine, Javi. Seems you fell for my defense mechanism.” she smiles and he looks at her, starting to slump. “To be fair I didn’t know to expect you. You’ll wake up soon enough. It’s only temporary.” she wipes the culprit of the sudden wave of forced unconsciousness he was going through, her lipstick off his mouth. He was out quickly, and she spent some long moments exploring the now aged face of her once wide-eyed companion. “You are even more handsome than I thought you’d be.” she coos and kisses him after dragging him into a chair and pushing it into a corner so he wouldn’t fall. “It now inevitable we’ll meet again. My old hound dog.” She chuckles, a kiss to take in the scent of his hair before she parted ways. “See you later, mi amor.”

-----------

Peña awoke to a boot knocking against his knee and an odd headache. It was pitch black outside by now, people on the streets outside none the wiser to the life-altering experience he’d just had.

“Are we blacking out in stores now?” Murphy snarks and shakes his head, leaning against a door frame.

“That’s not...I’m not…” Javier shakes his head, rubbing and tapping at the pulse in his skull.

“Then what the hell is it?” He can hear the judgment in his partner's voice.

“If I told you you would think I was crazy.” he groans and sits up with his back straight in the chair, one cocked brow looking over to the man staring him down.

“And I don’t now?”

Peña huffs out a laugh. That was a fair assessment. He’d think the same thing. He looked across the room, the glass case he’d found her standing in front of now empty. “She took the jewels.” he switches the subject, an arm raised lazily and collapsing against his lap after.

“Were they made of cocaine? Why do we give a shit?”

“It’s not the jewels that are important. It’s the woman that did it.”

“A woman? Huh. That’s something you don’t see every day. That is… a little bit crazy I guess.”

“That’s not what’s crazy.”

“Am I gonna have to fuckin’ waterboard you man, just tell me.” he groans.

“That woman I told you about... that stole those... she's been declared legally dead for almost twenty years.” he finally says with a defensive tone and a face that said don’t fucking try me to the man still assessing his sanity with no attempt at hiding his negative prognosis.

“Oh.” Murphy contemplates looking away to the empty case. “That... yeah okay that is crazy.”

@jaegeeeeer​ @likedovesinthewnd​ @inkededucatednnerdy​  @biharryjames @ladamari68​ @past-romantic​ @weliketomoveit

[67impalaandwhisky]

Destiny Is Heaven Sent

Summary: Knowing Dean Winchester since you were fifteen, you’ve always been pulled in his direction. Always wanting to open up the rattled and broken cage your heart lives in. But when the child you’ve been raising together dies, you find yourself closing up the cage of your heart again. And if destiny has one thing for you, it’s to break you down before bringing you back up.

Characters: Dean x You, Sam, Castiel, Bobby, OFC’s, OMC’s, (Ongoing)

This Series Is Set Through Seasons 1-6 With Knowledge That The Bunker Exists

Rating: 18+

Warnings (Ongoing and Will Be Updated): Grieving, Mentions of Rape and Defilement (As Per A Case), Show Level Violence, Swearing, Smut, Impreg Kink, Blood, Fighting, Drinking, Dean Being Dean, Fluff, Angst, Dom!Dean, Sub!Reader

Warnings For This Chapter: Show Level Violence, Fluff

Chapter 5.

"You better not let my insides turn to mush." You tell your best friends as they drive through the dark night towards the scene of the crime.

"We would never let you get hurt, ever. Don't be ridiculous." Dean mumbles as he lowers the music as it blasts throughout the car.

"I'm just saying." You whisper as you tug at your dress.

"Yeah well, don't 'just say' anything. And, stop pulling at your dress like that something is gonna pop out from one end or the other if you keep it up." He barks out.

Throwing his jacket over your legs, you let the scent of his cologne wash over you and you feel your nerves begin to calm down.

"You memorized what he looked like right?" Sam asks as you finger at the green fabric of his jacket.

"Yep. Got it all in here." You say tapping your temple with your index finger before looking out the window.

You watch the odd streetlight pass you by before eyeing the moon. You've always loved how, no matter how close you drive towards it it always seems farther and farther away with each step.

"Since Morley Rosmund was cremated by the state, he must be attached to something. A lock of hair, a locket, something he bled on." Sam says as he flicks through the sheets of paper within his manila folder.

"Maybe he's attached to the old woodchipper that prostitute shoved him through." You comment as the car begins to slow down.

"That would be an issue." Dean mumbles as he pulls up to the nefarious corner.

You want to open the door but your nerves seem raught with determination to stay inside the safe car.

"All we need to find out is where he takes the women. Whether it's his old house, his old office, anywhere. We'll send him packing for the night and go there in the morning to scout it out and find whatever he's attached to." Dean tells you as he hooks his hand behind the passenger seat to look at you.

It's a simple plan. Straightforward like always. You three are a team. There's no reason to let yourself get worked up over nothing.

"We're going to be right across the street. We'll be watching you." Your younger best friend tells you calmly and you look up at both of them before nodding.

"Okay. Let's gank this bitch then." You whisper before opening up the car door.

The gentle chill that blows through the breeze assaults all of your limbs as you stand on the street corner.

You watch Baby do a U-turn before the car shuts off. Dean is watching you like a hawk, eyes narrowed as he picks some skin off his bottom lip.

His gaze is comforting and you take deep breaths as you pace back and forth.

"She looks nervous." Sam comments to his older brother as he angles his head to watch you.

"Yeah. She's waiting for a weird pervert ghost. You'd be nervous too if you were her." Dean answers gruffly as his eyes roam your body.

"Why don't you guys just fuck already?" His younger brother asks as he brings his coffee cup to his lips. 

"Excuse me?" His older brother's voice is deep and low, the threatening baritone creeping into his head and rattling his brain. Dean turns his head slowly to his brother with narrowed eyes.

The gaze sets something akin to nervousness in Sam and he gives an awkward chuckle combing his long hair behind his ear.

"I just...I mean… I can see the way you both look at each other." He says with a shrug.

"It's complicated. Don't worry about what me and Y/N do or haven't done." He mumbles before turning back to watch you continue to pace.

"I mean you guys have both liked each other since you guys met. And...Well, you guys always pretend like something between you both doesn't exist." Sam fumbles with his words.

Dean sighs as he pulls his flask out from the inside pocket of his jacket. Taking a swig, he rolls his eyes. 

"I'm not talking about this right now, Sammy. All I do is talk about this shit to you, to Cas, to Bobby, even to Dad when he was still alive. I'm not with her because I don't fucking deserve her. I'm not going to ruin her life like I always do. So, shut the hell up." He barks out before cracking his neck.

Sam nods slowly as he presses his lips into a straight line, "Fine. I just think Y/N should be able to make those decisions for herself too. Y'know?" 

"Shut up, Sam." The fraction of a second that this conversation has gone on, Dean's eyes left you for a minute.

When he turns his head back to the corner, you are gone. 

"Goddammit!" He curses loudly, slapping the steering wheel harshly before shoving the door open and jogging across the street. 

Nothing but the brisk chill of the evening is all Dean can feel. You're completely out of his sight and he puts his hands over his face.

"I'm sorry." Sam apologizes quickly as he joins his older brother.

"If anything happens to her…Fuck!" He curses as his head continuously turns in all directions.

Pulling out his phone, the younger Winchester begins to track the GPS on your cell phone, "I'll find her." Sam whispers nervously as he takes in his brother's broken form.

Dean can feel his heart clenching, his eyes are watering at the mere thought of you being in danger. How could he let you out of his sight?

He promised. He fucking promised. 

This is like Marsh all over again.

Clutching onto the fabric of his shirt over his heart, his head lolls back at the pain and fear that encroaches upon him.

Dean and Sam weren't paying attention when Morley Rosmund came and grabbed you. That you knew for a fact. They were fighting. As per usual. 

The second the man in olden clothes had touched you, your body felt cold and numb.

You could count on your hand the amount of times you've met a ghost this pissed.

You've done jobs by yourself before while your best friends were gallivanting and fighting with every Archangel known to man. This would just have to be one of those times where you suck it up and have to fend for yourself.

You couldn't rely on them always and that's perfectly okay. You can handle yourself, you're strong and capable. 

Ghosts with this angered of a spirit can travel only a certain distance away from their soul-bound item. 

That seems to check out as you're pulled only a block away from that street corner. The office building is old and decrepit. There are many stop work orders on the face of the building as you're pulled inside. 

Grimacing, you step over dead bodies and bones in the first floor hallway.

"This is my office." You hear Morley explain and your breath comes out in puffs of smoke as you wrap your arms around each other for warmth.

"Oh. Lovely." You murmur as the body of a woman around your age lays on the old, varnished desk. 

Your hand reaches for your clavicle and you tug off the old coin pure iron from the necklace before pushing it down into the palm of your hand.

Your eyes glance around the office, trying to find anything that would be the key item for this man to still be bound here. You try to ignore the putrid smell of rotting flesh before the taller ghost is in your line of sight with a feral smile on his face.

His body shifts in and out of this plane of existence before solidifying once more.

"Get on the desk and spread your legs." He commands and you shiver at the roughness of his voice.

Clearing your throat, you sit on the corner trying your best not to touch the dead girl that's there.

"NOW!" The thin glass of the window shatters at his bellow and you swallow thickly as you raise your hand to his face.

Just the thought of touching this dead spirit is nerve wracking but you need to be able to get out of here. You know the building now, you just have to get away.

You press your hand to his face and he shimmers away with a yell. Closing your palm, you jump off of the desk hopping over dead bodies in the hallway. You're so close to the entrance door you can almost taste it.

But, Morley Rosmund is an old, angry ghost. Just as quickly as he vanished, he reappears.

Your breath hitches in your throat as he blocks the doorway and you go to throw the old iron coin at him. Before you can even let the coin slide out of your hand, you're in the air.

Your body travels backward against the wall with a loud thud and you crumple in on yourself with a whimper. You can taste blood in your mouth, can feel your body aching and bruising all over as the ghost advances on you.

Dean is mumbling to himself as he rummages through the trunk.

Hearing glass shatter in the distance, his head jolts up. 

"You hear that?" He asks his younger brother as he grabs his sawed off shotgun.

"Yeah. I got her location. She's not far." The words put gusto into his bones as he rapidly grabs the rest of the materials and weapons he will need.

Slamming the trunk shut, he hauls the bag over his shoulder before throwing a shotgun at his brother.

"Let's go then." He says quickly, ushering Sam to get a move on.

Jogging down the block, it didn't take long for them to find the old, decrepit building you were housed in.

Peeking his head in Dean can see the strewn bodies on the floor, new and old.

"Oh Y/N." He whispers gently as he pushes the door open with the mouth of his gun.

The office door which is cracked and shattered reads 'Mund.' You must be in there.

Stepping over the dead bodies gingerly, the closer he gets to the office with his little brother behind him the louder your whimpers and grunts of pain become.

His jaw clicks and he can hear you cursing out the ghost like a proud sailor.

Kicking open the door, he takes in your half naked body for a fraction of a second before he's shooting the gun at the ghost. The rock salt blasts through Morley Rosmund and he's gone within seconds. 

"Hey. Hey. I got you." He whispers as he jogs over to you.

You whimper loudly, holding your arms out like a frail child and his heart breaks at the sight of you.

"I'm so fucking sorry." He says as he picks you up. Your skin is already bruising and deepening in color as he coddled you to his chest.

"We gotta go!" Sam yells as more glass begins to shatter in the office.

Dean buries your face into his neck as he steps over strewn debris and body parts. You can hear him whispering kind, gentle words in your ear and you practically jump out of your skin as Sam shoots the gun behind you.

"He's one angry son of a bitch." Dean growls as he kicks open the front door.

Stepping down the stairs, the brisk chill of Autumn assaults your half naked body and you groan loudly as Sam shoots the gun once more before closing the front door of the building.

Sammy throws his jacket over your body as Dean jogs back to the Impala with fast feet.

"Did he hurt you? Where did that sick son of a bitch touch you?" The venom in his voice is almost intoxicating to listen too.

"I'm okay." You whisper as he opens the back door of the Impala without a word. 

Throwing the keys to Sam, the younger brother clears his throat uncomfortably. Dean sits in the back of the car with you, he pulls your upper body onto his making sure Sam's jacket is covering your body.

You're still aching and feeling the pain all over but it's also a soft comfort that creeps over your body as Dean runs his fingers through your hair. 

"De?" You whisper as your eyes flutter closed.

"Hmm?" He asks, lowering his head to hear you clearly. 

"When I feel better, I'm going to kick your ass for leaving me alone." You threaten before grimacing and putting your hand to your chest.

His face shifts above you, as if he's been stabbed or shot. Your words cut him to the quick and he can barely nod.

"I would expect nothing less, Candy girl."

You ended up in Dean's bed again that night, which was becoming more of a regular thing than you cared to admit. But, against all of your better judgement, you were okay with it.

You were finally sound asleep when Dean uttered his first words of the evening.

"I'm so sorry." He whispers as he turns towards you.

Your lips are parted, hair splayed over your face as you take shallow breaths during your sleep.

Turning his head to make sure his brother is sleeping, he curls his arm around your form. His thumb grazes gentle circles on your forearm as he watches you sleep.

"I'm so caught up in what to do around you, what to say, how to hide my feelings… It's all getting to be too much for me." He mumbles more to himself than to you.

"I shouldn't have taken my eyes off you tonight. I'm sorry I didn't pay more attention. I don't know what I would have done if you got hurt because of me. God…" His voice is deep and pained. A tear threatens to spill over as he hangs his head.

This would be about the time where he grunts angrily and drinks a beer but he can't leave your side. Not for a minute. 

"I'm getting sick and tired of not having you as mine. Really fucking sick of having to push you away because I'm too goddamn stubborn to do anything about it." He sounds breathless by the end of his monologue. Laying his head down on the pillow, his thumb drifts over your cheekbone once more.

"Then don't be stubborn." You whisper before turning over and facing the window.

Your older best friend's eyes widen and he clears his throat before rubbing at his face roughly with his left hand.

"I didn't...I didn't know you were awake." He whispers as you open your eyes.

You watch as soft grey clouds drift past the large moon that looms over the motel.

"Kind of hard to sleep when your best friend is spilling out his soul to you." You retort quietly, your fingers pull at a frayed string of the comforter that lays over your body.

"So...you heard me?" He asks nervously.

Oh. You heard it all.

Destiny Is Heaven Sent Taglist: @roonyxx​, @deans-baby-momma​

Forever Dean Tags: @akshi8278​

[aileysmirnov]

Loki x Ailey hc! part 1

I was watching Thor Ragnarok with some friends (over zoom ofc) and then It popped up in my head a conversation that I had with @melyaliz and Alex (ig: shir.0_guru) a while back, and I couldn't shake it off my brain as I was trying to write some other thing. So hopefully writing this down would apace my mind.

TW: Arranged marriage, depictions of emotional/psychological abuse

Summary: Eris and Odin find a solution to what's been threatening their domains, an alliance between 2 of the most powerful families, but Ailey and Loki don't seem so keen about it.

Disclaimer/notes: Ailey is my OC! You can learn more about her in here!

Ailey has finally been reunited with most of her family and entered the realm of gods in this AU.

Samaras is the last name of the Eris family, they are rulers of Thera (Eris kingdom) and each member bears a royal title.

Ailey is the only demi-goddess in her family, Demigods are seen as shameful in this AU and usually they have a birthmark and a weakness that distinguishes them as such. In Ailey's case is her golden rose hair once she transforms in her god-form and her weakness is her allergy to gold, it practically burns her skin, debilitates her magic and herself, is like kryptonite for her.

◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

The only reason they even know about the other, is because of their parents: Eris had been in conflict with Ares lately, and one of his recent attacks greatly debilitated her army and Odin had trouble with a few of the realms under his command forming complots against him and the safety of Asgard.

Both rulers found themselves in need of the other: Odin had the greatest warriors and military at his service, and Eris being the goddess of discord could easily rise or disipate any conflict that may come her way (except for Ares ofc), an easy way in or out of war.

And so, they decided to form an alliance; But Odin being the wise men he is, knew better than to trust blindly in the goddess of chaos, after all...Eris was known for being a backstabber who acted only to beneficiate her own interests.

To prevent that, Odin decided to make the alliance under the condition that one member of the Samaras family must marry the second son: Loki, God of mischief. And so, Eris agreed and offered her youngest daughter: Ailey goddess of ruin and folly.

God it was an absolute mess since the beginning!

Frigga was the one to inform Loki, who immediately went to Odin to protest, but like always his father ignored him, shutting him down by comparing him to his brother and how he would do anything to protect Asgard but Loki was being selfish.

Ailey in the other hand was kept ignorant of such decision and only knew about it a few hours before the engagement party began and only because a servant accidentally told her.

She was furious and much like Loki tried to protest but Eris couldn't care less about her daughter's opinion.

Ailey could rage all she wanted, Eris wasn't even paying attention, the only thing she was accomplishing was in making her angry.

—Child, I think you tend to forget your place in this world, you see: among humans you might be...special but in here... you're just an idiot with too much privilege—Eris had a way with words that could make them feel like poison, creeping in to the insecurities of one's heart.

—If it weren't for me and your brothers, you would be Hera's new toy, so please remember, dear. You not only owe me but to your brothers and this kingdom as well.

Ailey headed back to her room feeling ashamed and angry, she felt her mother's words had some truth in them, seeing as how different she was viewed here in comparison to the human realm.

When the time came for the engagement party and for Ailey and Loki to meet for the first time, is fair to say neither of them were in a good mood.

Even though deep inside they knew both of them didn't have any say in the matter and were pretty much in the same situation; they still felt irrationally mad at each other, that's why since the moment they met to the end of the ceremony they would throw little passive-aggressive remarks at each other.

She viewed him as a pretentious asshole, and He saw her as a spoiled brat.

Almost near the end of the celebration and no announcement had been made so Eris took it upon herself to throw them into the spotlight.

—I believe you two have something important to share with all of us—her face was smiling but her eyes were threatening.

Ailey bit the inner side of her cheek, rolled her eyes as she turned to face Loki who only gave an exasperated sigh before speaking in a monotone voice

—Do you want to marry me?—he didn't even bothered to get on one knee and just extended the ring for her to take.

Ailey felt tempted to say "no" and walk away gracefully but doing that would probably have a negative impact on Thera, so after a long pause she answered.

—Whatever—and put the ring on, herself.

Clearly a good start :) .

I think they didn't saw each other that much afterwards and when they did it was mostly for wedding arrangements in which they continued with the passive-aggressive comments but this time about everything the other would pick.

The mood was so uncomfortable every time they were together everyone around them was like:

I think that sometimes they would have moments where they realize they had been too harsh with the other and would tone it down a little but treating each other like that was the only way of protest that was allowed for them.

Specially for Loki since he constantly had to travel to Thera bc for some reason unknown to him Ailey refused to go to Asgard, which only made his negative opinion on her grow.

In his mind, it was probably because she thought she was too good for Asgard but the reality was: Asgard is practically a death sentence for Ailey since 90% of every building in there was made of gold.

But she will never tell him that.

I think their first "moment of closeness" came to be purely out of the realization neither of them had any option other than get married or see their domains destroyed.

So, they decided to call it a truce: both would play along with the whole marriage fiasco for a while until things died down and then they could divorce and pretend they never even met.

And so, the passive-aggressive comments slowly died down, not that they started acting like lovers all of a sudden, instead they acted like they were just... co-workers or something.

They would greet each other in a formal manner and then only talked about the arrangements and left, nothing else.

But then, inevitably they started to get closer.

It was something so gradual none of them really knew how it happened.

It started off with small comments about decoration ideas for the venue, it turns out they both had quite the interest in interior design.

Eventually those small comments became lengthy conversations about which combination of colors would look the best.

When it came down to learning about the nobility attending the wedding on each side, both would spend a little more time together. Studying the proper way on how to address them and their interests all for the possibility in forming new alliances.

But I feel like instead they would roast the hell out of them, like they would be going through a list of the Asgardian nobility that were to attend and Ailey would just point at a picture of a random Asgardian noble and go: "Oh. My. God. what is he even wearing?"

And Loki would try to force back a smile or a laugh but eventually he would just give in and start joining Ailey in the roasting.

They also have a very similar sense of humor, but Ailey is just more blunt and open about it while Loki isn't, I feel like most of the time he has genius comebacks to stupid comments people make but he's a gentleman and normally just keeps it to himself or would only say it in a polite but slightly aggressive manner, so when Ailey just bluntly says something similar to what he was thinking he can't help but laugh a bit (he won't admit to it though)

Other things Ailey and Loki have in common is their love for drama and spectacle, while Ailey is more of a ballet/dance-based plays person, she understands Loki’s enthusiasm for theater and books even sharing some of it herself.

Not only they enjoy these things, but they also found comfort in them: For Ailey ballet began as something her mother forced upon her but transformed in an outlet for her emotions and a way to connect and control her powers.

For Loki theater was a form of escapism since he was a child, every time he felt like he didn’t belong he found a safe place in countless stories of the misunderstood heroes.

This only makes their bond grow deeper; up until this point they never had anyone to talk to about their interests in such depth, so now they talk all the time about it, sometimes they would surprise themselves looking forward to the next meeting just to gush about a new play or book they just saw or read.

I feel like Loki might’ve even lend Ailey some copies of his favorite books and Ailey as a “thank you” decided to sneek out with him to the human realm to watch "Tristan und Isolde".

Everyone is able to notice the change in attitude of these two, especially Thor who only had heard about the girl but could tell how happy she made him every time Loki would mention her.

And he was happy for his brother but felt curious about his soon to be sister-in-law.

So, it was only natural when Thor asked Loki if he could tag along the next time he went to Thera.

He said no.

Thor went anyways.

When Ailey met him, she could only think about one thing: "he himbo" which she thought was cute btw.

Thor could see why Loki liked this girl so much, they were practically the same, which he found sweet yet amusing.

—Lady Ailey, a pleasure to meet you, mi brother has told me a lot about you!—he stated.

—Really?!—Ailey questioned directing an incredulous glance at Loki. 

—He asked­—Loki tried to defend himself by downplaying his brother statement. 

—No, I didn’t.—Thor retaliated with a mocking smile, he could tell his brother felt embarrassed so he decided to tease him a bit more. 

—In fact, he won’t shut up about you. 

—That’s not true, he’s just.. 

—No, he’s all the time saying Ailey this, Ailey that. It peaked my curiosity and so here I am… 

—Brother, Could you shut up?—Ailey could only smile and hold back a laugh at the brothers spontaneous quarrel. 

Truth is she thought it was sweet of Loki to talk about her with his brother. And teases him about it afterwards.

I think Thor might talk privately with Ailey and would ask her to take care of his brother. 

—I know Loki can be a bit…difficult, but have patience with him, I can tell he really likes you. 

And Thor was correct, Loki really did like her. But it might take a while for him to come to terms with his feelings, and would only manifest in small gestures towards Ailey, like: tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, subconsciously offering his arm for her to take as support when walking down the stairs, placing a hand on the small of her back as guidance whenever they were in a crowded space, sneaking small glances at her, etc.

Overall, he starts acting a lot softer with her, a lot more caring.

Ailey might be a bit oblivious to this (since she’s only used to overly sexual advances and has a difficult time understanding genuine affection), but she appreciates it none the less.

And both might even find themselves thinking that maybe…just maybe spending the rest of their lives together isn’t a bad idea after all.

[nikkzwrites]

The Girl I Left Behind | Peaky Blinders Fic | Thomas Shelby x OFC | Chapter 1

A/N: So this is a story of a Scottish Mobster named Elspeth Finley and her adventures with and becoming a Shelby.

Content Warning: Smoking, Alcohol, Canon Typical Behavior, Canon Typical Triggers

Words: ~3.2k

[Next Chapter]

Elspeth sighed as she turned in her sleep. Tonight, surprisingly, she was visited by a fairly good memory.

She couldn’t have been older than 10 years old as she ran through the woods. The wet dirt and grass felt nice against her feet. She knew the teacher and her parents would be mad at her for sneaking out, but Archie, her brother, had told her about their father’s “plans” to trade their little sister, Maggie, to the visiting gypsies for horses. This lined up with what their mother had told them. She had told them that their father was going to the camp to get some new horses. Elspeth had ditched her shoes earlier to make sure she was less likely to get caught. It was easier to feel where there was going to be noise with your shoes off. Soon, she reached the edge of the wood near the shore. The girl crouched and made her way into a shrub to hide herself. She spied her father talking to another man. Two boys, just a bit older than the girl, were unloading horses under the watchful eye of a beautiful woman. Elspeth couldn’t help it. She ran to the woman and with a bright smile. “Excuse me,” she called.

The woman turned and smiled at her, “Oh ‘Ello there. What are you doing here, little miss? Shouldn’t you be in school?”

Elspeth’s eyes shone brightly under the afternoon sun as she beamed. The girl smiled and said, “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Suppressed laughter from the boat caused the woman to turn to her two sons, “You two stop laughing and keep unloading the boat.” She shook her head and turned back to the copper-haired wild girl. Her clothes were definitely school clothes that were muddied from running in the woods. The young girl’s hair was more wavy than ringlets telling the mother that the girl was the type of girl who did this quite often. A girl who was too much into adventure to sit still for a single moment. She took the girl’s hand and said, “Why don’t we go talk to my husband and take you back?”

Elspeth shook her head, “It’s okay. My Papa is here with my sister.” Her hand slipped from the woman’s as she ran back to her father.

Wiliam rolled his eyes and said, “Elsie, what are you doing here and not at school?”

“Elsie,” Maggie shrieked and waved to her older sister.

The dark-haired man laughed, “Aye, Will. I see you have your hands full with this one. Must be around my Ada’s age. Where’s your two boys?”

“At school,” Wiliam replied before turning back to his daughter and knelt down, “Elsie, pay attention. Why aren’t you in school?”

Elspeth nodded and stated simply, “Well, if you are going to trade any of us to the gypsies, it should be me, yeah? I’m older, I love to travel, plus Momma says my spirit is just like my fiery red mop of hair… So I’d fit right in!”

The other man let out a hardy laugh. He looked at the man and asked, “Is that what you tell your kids?”

Wiliam shook his head and before he could comment Elspeth spoke up saying. “My big brother told me! Archie said that maybe next time he’d trade me and Seumas too. Momma always said that Papa made bad decisions about horses and betting so…”

The man laughed again, “Well your older brother was just tellin you tales youngin.” The man ruffled her hair and winked, “Though you may travel with us one day with that kinda spirit in ya. How do you feel about fortune tellin?”

Elspeth beamed and her father turned to the man, “Don’t start that Arthur. She always claims to be seeing faeries and wisps. Don’t be fillin her head with anymore of that shit.”

The man nodded, “Fine, fine. I assume you want her back at school, yea?” Seeing Wiliam nod, he whistled over to his two sons who were trying to hide their laughter. He called over to them, “Thomas. Come ‘ere will ya?”

A dark-haired boy with the brightest blue eyes walked over. He was the younger of the two brothers unpacking the boat. “Yeah,” his voice was already starting to deepen. He shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Take this young lass ove to er school, will ya,” the man commanded. “You can take one of dem horses ove ere. Make sure you keep ya eyes on this one, right?”

Thomas rolled his eyes and asked, “Why can’t Arthur do it?”

“Yer brother ain’t learned anything about our business and yous already knows it. So you gotta go,” The man insisted in a fatherly forceful tone.

The boy rolled his eyes, “Fine.” He nodded to the girl, “Come on.” He nodded towards the pin and waited for her to start walking before he followed her. When they were far enough away from their fathers he started to ask, “Do you really-”

“I really don’t need an escort, don’t cha know,” she interrupted the older boy. She huffed angrily at him as if he had willingly chose this or forced this upon her himself.

He rolled his eyes, “Disappointingly, it seems like ya do. I ain’t thrilled about this either, love. Much rather not have to deal with you.” He ducked his way into the horse pin to grab one and start putting on the riding gear, “Did you really think any of this was a good idea? Do you always listen to your brother?”

Elspeth sat on the fence and watched as the older boy got the horse ready, “Better then ya taking Maggie at least. And yes. Why would Archie lie to me?”

“Than,” Thomas corrected, then said, “I say shit to my sister all the time to scare er. You really ought to not listen to em all the time.” He finished his work, then hopped onto the horse. The boy had the horse trot over to the girl and held out an arm to her.

Elspeth took it and pulled her way up. She blushed as Thomas put her in front of him. She turned her face to look at the boy as they rode, “That’s mean of yous. For someone with the prettiest lightest eyes, you really have a blacken soul, don’t ya?” She huffed and added, “I could have ridden behind you. I’m not a baby.”

“Couldn’t have kept my eye on ya from behind me,” Thomas answered cooly. He made a turn to go through the fields instead of the forest.

“Aye,” Elspeth complained. She leaned over him and pointed the other direction, “My school is over that way. Through the woods.”

Thomas nodded, “Yeah, and she’d get spooked if I took that way.” He patted the horse’s neck and explained, “So we are going this way.”

“You’re gonna get us into trouble,” she commented.

“More than you already are,” Thomas rose one of his brows at her. He shook his head and said, “Besides, they aren’t payin any attention to us anymore. I could just steal ya away if I wanted.” He chuckled. He knew that it was going to land on him if they were going to get into trouble. He was not only older, but also, the boy therefore was the one to make sure he upheld her honor and dignity. He just wanted to bend the truth to see how she was going to react.

Elspeth rolled her eyes, “Don’t be actin like you're so much wiser then me. You can’t be but a year older.” She had to admit, he was already developing his strong jaw. If he were a nicer boy, she’d admit that he’d probably have nearly all the girls smitten with him already.

“Than,” Thomas corrected, clenching his jaw slightly, “And besides, I am much more experienced than you. You still are listenin to your older brother all the time and I’m much more skilled at sneakin off without gettin caught. Then again, I don’t go off followin my father.”

Elspeth made a face at him, “How old are you anyway to talk to me like this?”

“Older than you,” The boy chuckled. He shook his head and whispered into her ear, “Want to go a bit faster?”

“Will it get me away from you faster,” Elspeth countered.

“Nah,” He shook his head, “I decided ya staying with me.” He chuckled.

Elspeth blinked then said after a moment of thought, “You’re just trying to get out of doing work.”

Thomas laughed, “There we go. The young miss is learnin somethin new.” He brought the pace up to a gallop, “If I’m with you, they can’t make me go back to work. Then I can also blame you and your free spirit for getting me into trouble.”

Elspeth huffed at him. She rolled her eyes and said, “You’re a devil...Uh…”

“Thomas,” He told her, “Thomas Shelby, Elsie.”

She shook her head, “Only my friends and family can call me that. You can call me Elspeth.”

Thomas chuckled and made the horse start to canter. They both bounced with every forceful step the horse took. He looked down and asked, “Should we go get your shoes and socks?”

Elspeth nodded, “Probably.” She felt herself start to slip off, but before she had time to react, Thomas moved his arm to place her back into place. She blushed and asked, “Are you takin me home now?”

Thomas smiled. His smile was bright. It made him look even more handsome. Elsie stared at his face as his mind was so far away. She wondered what he’d look like if he were truly older. He was going to be a very handsome and strong man. He must have noticed her staring because he chuckled, “Not til you are thoroughly done being a fiery free spirit.”

He was right. He didn’t take her back until nearly dinner time well into sundown. She was right about the both of them getting into trouble, but Thomas just smiled through it. He laughed and told his parents something in his blood told him to go on a joyride and it must have been the hills that did it. Her mother scolded her for causing so many problems and for losing her shoes and socks she knitted. They were forced to look at each other once last time.

“Tell er goodbye,” Arthur Sr told Thomas angrily.

Thomas bowed to her and she curtseyed to him. Elspeth smiled gently. Her eyes having cooled and her sense of adventure both quenched and renewed. Her voice was more gentle now, “Goodbye Thomas.”

With a new fire in his eyes, Thomas pulled out a ribbon that he had bought on their excersson. He tied the blue ribbon overlayed with white lace into her hair. The blue of the ribbon matching his eyes. He, then, reached around her ear to gently grab a lock of her hair. He kissed it playfully before chuckling, “Goodbye Elsie.”

The woman woke up with a burning face. She fanned her face. She had no idea why she was having this dream again. She walked to the basin and washed her face. She looked up and stared at herself. Her now auburn hair framed her face well. Her eyes still held a fire within them, but now it was a fire to grab power and the security it provides. The war had made her free spirit haunted with the deeds she had to do as a spy. She finished her hair and makeup before walking downstairs. Their territory, now, growing well into Birmingham. She greeted her youngest two siblings as they ran around her. “Edward and Lucy,” She scolded, “You two run like that outside!”

Edward shook his head, “The Blinders are out there.”

Elspeth rolled her eyes, “And they don’t know who the head family is yet nor do they know who we are. So go on outside and play. Where’s Maggie?’

Lucy shrugged, “I saw her going towards the dress shop, I think.” She ran after her brother to go outside to play.

Elspeth rolled her eyes and closed up the house, “I guess I should go find er then.” She walked down the street to go try and find her younger sister.

Maggie giggled as John’s lips tickled her neck. He groaned against her neck and whispered, “Come on, please be quiet.” He led her against the other wall in the alleyway. His hands never leaving her hips as he placed kisses up and down her neck. 

“Why, you’re a Blinder, who’s gonna stop us,” Maggie teased the man. She kissed his cheek purposely leaving a lipstick mark there, “When are we going to stop sneaking around like this?”

John sighed against her neck and placed his forehead there annoyed by her questioning. “You really don’t want to meet my family,” he tried to reason with her. He kissed her lips and hummed, “But if you want to, I guess we can have you meet everyone. Aunt Pol sure would like it if I finally took a wife with my four kids runnin round.”

Maggie giggled, “Then you should ask Archie and Elspeth for their blessing.” She kissed his lips quickly and stole his hat from him and placed it on her head. “Do I look like a nice Shelby,” She asked beaming.

John laughed, “The prettiest.”

Elspeth’s shoes clicked against the pavement as she made her way through the area. She had heard through the vine that the Shelby’s normally met people at the Garrison. So she was on her way there. The head of the Blinders was Thomas Shelby, part of her wondered if it were the same as her Thomas Shelby.

Thomas sighed as he drank. He was just trying to take a small break from dealing with the Kimber situation, the guns, Campbell, and the new group The Screaming Banshees. Then he heard a silence roll over the Garrison. This was strange. Sure there were lulls, but you could hear a pin drop with how quiet it was. He poked his head out of the bar to see a well dressed woman at the bar. He moistened his lips as he watched her. She had an air about her that screamed that nothing bothered her, but yet everyone was on their best behavior. She had a very gentle melodic voice. Her accent was definitely from the area of Scotland. His ears perked up hearing her utter his name.

“I’m looking for a Mr. Thomas Shelby,” Elspeth spoke to the woman at the bar. She put on her best ladylike face. She could feel the eyes of all the men on her, but this didn’t bother her. She just needed this John situation taken care of from the source. She could see movement from the private area from the side of her vision. A familiar hoarse deep voice broke the silence of the bar.

“And what would you need with a man like that,” Thomas coyly responded from the door. He watched as the woman turned to face him. She was so familiar to him. A face of tiny embers from a once raging fire. He studied her. He tried to place where he knew her from, but it was just coming up with a woman that couldn’t have been her out in France and a small Scottish girl he hadn’t seen in at least seventeen years with hair that resembled more of a fire than what was on this woman’s head.

Elspeth turned to face the voice. She recognized him instantly. Her heart rate spiked for a second. Her face blushed for a small fraction of a moment. She bolstered her spirit again and explained, “I have something about our families to discuss with him. It involves his brother. John Shelby.” Her instincts were right. They were the same exact Shelbys. 

Thomas motioned for her to join him inside the room and spoke to the barmaid, “Bring a bottle for us in here, please Grace.” He stood up and walked to the woman to escort her into the room. 

Elspeth gave him a small smile, “Thank you.” When the door closed behind her, she sat across from Thomas before he could motion for her to do so. She smiled gently at him as she watched him sit, “I am sorry to find you like this, I just… I figured it would be best if we talked. Your brother asked if we would bless a union between him and my just younger sister. I, while excited to see my sister so happy, believe this would join two rival gangs together. Our leader I don’t think would want to see this union go through.” She used small gentle hand gestures to make herself seem more demure and still the childish girl she once was.

Thomas’s brows furrowed together as she spoke. He tried to figure out just what she was telling him. Soon he put together the pieces and spoke, “Your family is the head of the Screaming Banshees and the union would then force a bond between us. I see where he wouldn’t want that, but honestly, it would take care of both of our problems.” He thought for a moment, “You said you want your sister’s happiness. Why not allow this to happen? Once she’s a Shelby, your safety would be granted as well.”

Anger rose in Elspeth, but she was lucky to know exactly how to hide it. She giggled and let a few tears fall from her eyes. “You are too kind,” She smiled and leaned forward to take one of his hands with both of hers, “Still that devilish boy getting us into trouble.” The ribbon he gave her carefully tied around her left wrist. She knew in her head that this gave her the advantage, it makes her seem smaller and still in love with him, therefore it makes it seem like she’s easier for Thomas to manipulate.

Thomas stared at the ribbon on her wrist. He knew it instantly. There was the evidence that this was that same little girl that was his first love. The girl he first promised to court. Did she really keep that gift all this time and the way it looked made it look well loved, yet still taken care of. Her hair was darker than he remembered. She was more gentle, sweet, softer. It was throwing him off. He never would have pictured her becoming such a delicate lady. He looked into her eyes and smirked, “Well some people never change, but then some people change tremendously.”

Elspeth giggled, “Well some people learn.” She looked out and stood. She held out her hand and said, “Well, it was nice speaking with you, Mister Shelby.” She watched as he gently brought her hand up for him to gently place a small kiss upon her gloved knuckles. Elspeth allowed a blush to grow across her freckled face. She giggled, “I forgot myself giving my hand to a devil. I should have expected.” As she left, she grasped the wrist of the hand she had given him up to her heart. She growled and her face contorted in disgust. She needed to defeat this issue herself now, and take Thomas down with it.

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

The Guardian’s Oath, Part Six

Since this is a horror/ supernatural story, I’d hoped I’d have it finished before the end of October. In fact, I’d hoped to have it finished well before that because I had another horror-type thing that I was also supposed to get finished before the end of October. And now I have a few other ideas that aren’t horror-driven that I want to get done because... Yeah, you know. Life.

Anyway, if you’d like to get caught up on this story, you can find the previous sections here: 

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

Pairing: Feargal Devitt/ Finn Balor x OFC

Word count: 2,392

Content advisory: Graphic sexual content, dub-con, possibly disturbing moral/ religious themes

For several days, the dour mood in the house persisted, although the children did start to brighten up a bit. Things made a sudden shift, however, when the Reverend, who continued to stay at home, returned from a meeting. He was smiling and some of the color had returned to his face, and as he entered the house, he immediately called the children to him. I still felt that he was cross with me from the incident at dinner and so I stayed back, watching them from the drawing room. 

“Did you get good news, Papa?” Sophia inquired. 

“Very good news. At least, the best news I could hope for. And I want to apologize that I haven’t been myself with you lately. I hope you know that I always love you, even if my mood is low.”

I glanced in his direction, faintly hoping that he might indicate that I was included in his apology but his attention was entirely given to his children. He didn’t go into any detail about the nature of his news but he did tell them that they would finally be able to properly bury their mother and to “say their goodbyes”. Considering that he had been rather cold to me since that night in the dining room, I was a little surprised and perhaps a little hurt to hear him use my exact words as if they were now a good thing. 

The children returned to me a few minutes later, seeming more content. I suspected that this was not so much because of the news but because their father seemed like himself again. I tried to reflect their good mood back at them as I continued our French lesson, even though I felt like I had been left out. 

To my surprise, Reverend Devitt stayed in the doorway, watching us with a curious expression. Perhaps he wanted to see if I was doing an adequate job. I definitely felt as if he were judging my performance and I found myself quite nervous. Nevertheless, I worked my way through everything I had planned to cover before I released them for their afternoon tea. Their father hung by the door after they’d left, watching me speculatively. 

“May I help you sir?” I asked meekly. 

“Will you be taking tea with us?”

“I would be happy to.”

I had been mostly taking my meals by myself in the last several days, frightened I might anger him more or that my very presence would be aggravating. He had given no acknowledgment that he even noticed, so it was very gratifying to know that I was being invited back into the fold. 

He stepped inside the room and offered me his hand, which I gladly took, blushing a little at the unexpected contact. He continued to hold it after I rose and he made no move to leave. 

“After an investigation,” he began, “the authorities determined that there was no evidence to proceed with a full inquiry into my wife’s death. So there is no imminent disaster and no shame that will be visited on me or my family.”

“I’m glad to hear it, sir. I have prayed for you.”

I shivered a little, remembering who else I had asked for help and how I had agreed to pay him. 

The Reverend bent his head and lightly touched his lips to my fingers. 

“I don’t know why, but I feel that somehow your presence and your prayers are somehow responsible. I shared the story of my most terrible memories with you and for the first time, some of the burden of carrying them has been lifted from me.”

“You’re too kind, sir.”

“Feargal, Helen,” he reminded me softly. “Call me Feargal.”

He turned my hand over and kissed my wrist and palm, lips as soft as dew, and I felt the sensation reverberate throughout my body. When he raised his head, the look in his blue eyes was like nothing I had ever seen before, slightly playful and at the same time a bit dangerous. I felt as though he were searching for something inside me, but I could not fathom what it was. Gradually, his expression changed to a gentle smile as he lowered and released my hand, leaving me to wonder what had just passed between us, or if I had been imagining things. 

*

The funeral for the late Mrs. Devitt was organized for the following week. A lay minister was brought in from the city to conduct the service so that the Reverend would be able to sit with his children. The family asked that I attend and I agreed, although my secret feelings towards the head of the house made me feel awkward about it. I didn’t like to admit it, but in my heart I hoped that finally being able to say goodbye to his wife might open my employer to the possibility of someone new. 

Many times, I replayed the moment his lips had touched my hand and the look in his eyes afterward. He was on the road during the intervening days and by the time he returned, I had worked myself into a state. I was barely able to look at him, afraid that my face would betray the entirely inappropriate thoughts I was having. At the same time, I longed to know if he was looking at me and, if so, in what way. 

The day of the funeral was the first when autumn’s chill could be felt cutting through the warmth of the late summer. We walked to the church together- The Reverend, the children, Kate and me. I had been a little disappointed when I realized Kate was coming too since it diminished the pride I felt at being asked to join. Of course, she had known Mrs. Devitt and I certainly didn’t object to her pleasant company, but I felt less special as a result. 

A few women from the town were in attendance, ones I assumed had tried to befriend Sarah Devitt when she first arrived. No one, not even the Reverend, knew how to contact her family and so they had no presence that day. The service was simple and warm, in keeping with what I had seen of the Reverend, if not what I had heard of the woman we were mourning. 

I was  a little surprised that neither of the children cried, but it seemed likely that their mother had been dead in their minds since the night she disappeared. Both of them looked forlorn and Sophia’s face was a mask of anxiety that seemed inappropriate to her tender age. My heart ached for her, knowing too well the pain of losing a mother, of feeling the need to behave like a young woman while still being very much a child. 

We returned home and the visiting reverend joined us for an early supper. He and Reverend Devitt immediately fell deep into conversation and I allowed myself to look at him from under my eyelashes, marvelling at how very handsome he was and at the serenity of his clear eyes now that the shadow had passed from them. I had to force myself to take the children upstairs and put them to bed because I would have happily sat there all night, watching him in silence. 

“Would you like me to read you anything in particular?” I asked the children as they settled in bed. 

They glanced at each other and shook their heads simultaneously and yet I could tell there was something they wanted to say. 

“You both did very well today,” I commended them. “I was inconsolable at my mother’s funeral.”

“Miss Miles,” Sophia began crisply, “my brother and I have something we want to know. Can you help us?”

“I will try my best.”

“Is it true that unbaptized babies go to Hell?”

I stared back, aghast at how her cool tone never wavered. It was like she had asked me why apples came in different colors. 

“Well,” I stammered, not knowing what to say or why they wanted to know and remembering all too clearly what had happened the last time I had tried to give advice on a matter of death and religion, “that is what we are told. Baptism absolves us of Original Sin and therefore…” I struggled to come up with something that made things seem less bleak. “These matters are really in God’s hands. We know what He has taught us but ultimately all of these decisions are his to make.”

“But He has told us that unbaptized souls are always lost, no matter what the circumstances,” Sophia persisted. 

“That is so,” I answered quietly. 

“What if the baby hasn’t been born yet?” William chimed in. 

Again, I was astounded at how easily these questions came from them. William sounded a little more emotional than his sister but not by much. 

“I don’t know that there is anything in the Bible about that.”

“But aren’t there many babies who are stillborn?” Sophia, cooler and less affected than ever, took over the questioning again. 

“There are. But the Bible says that man is born in a state of sin. So I think the child would have to be born and alive.”

I could tell that my argument was unconvincing and their expressions became worried. 

“Wait! The Bible also tells us that life comes in breath, so in order to be considered fully alive, the baby would have to have taken at least one breath.”

The two of them immediately looked relieved and Sophia only gave a little smile. 

“Why did you want to know about such things?”

“We were just thinking about all of the unborn children when we were at the funeral,” Sophia explained. “We didn’t like to imagine them all going to Hell.”

I smiled to know that I had relieved their minds on that score and yet I knew in my heart that she was lying. I felt hurt by the lack of trust and wondered what could be so shocking that they felt they could not share it with me but so pressing that they had been compelled to ask their unsettling questions. 

Back in my room, I continued to ruminate over the meaning of what had just happened and wondered if I should tell their father as I dressed for bed. Within hours, I had found myself overwhelmed with sympathy for the vulnerability of my two charges and frightened by their almost inhuman coldness. 

I knelt at the side of my bed and asked God for His guidance. As I prayed, however, I became distracted by an acrid scent, smoke and seawater, filling the room. I tried to tell myself that I had left the window open and that the smell was coming from outside but it was useless. I could feel the presence in the room with me. I sensed his dark form circling the room and felt the weight of his body on the bed before me before his talons ran down the side of my face. I desperately wanted to keep my eyes closed in the hopes that he would simply leave but finally I had to see for myself and confirm what I already knew. 

Balor leaned his head down, continuing to cradle my face in his hand. He regarded me with an expression of perverse delight, his pale eyes almost luminous. 

“You see how I protect what’s mine,” he hissed. 

I nodded a little, frightened to find out what I had to bargain for now. 

He pressed the knuckle of his thumb under my chin, forcing me to stare back at him. 

“But that wasn’t all you wanted.” He gave a knowing smirk. “Say it.”

“I just…” I trembled at the voracious look on his face. “I only wish that he loved me.”

“Then pray,” he snarled. 

“I don’t know what you mean.”

He unfolded his crouched body, easing his legs off the bed on either side of me and pushing my head against his thigh, close to his erect member. 

“Pray.”

He guided my mouth over the swollen head and down his shaft, rocking back and forth and giving quiet yet lascivious moans. I waited for that first painful thrust into the back of my throat but this time he pulled me off him and dragged me onto the bed by my hair. I landed on my stomach and felt him pounce on me, gripping my hips and lifting them from the bed, which caused my nightdress to fall forward. 

Within a second, he pushed inside me, the shock and the burn of being stretched out almost making me faint. If he noticed this, he gave no sign, pounding away at a frantic pace, claws dug into my flesh to keep me somewhat steady. Gradually, he slid one hand around to the front, pressing his fingers against that point near the top of my opening, the one that had made me fall apart for him before. And, once again, the pleasure obliterated every other feeling I had in me. Wrong though it was, I wanted him to continue like this forever and at the same time, I wanted to rush towards the peak I knew was coming. 

He seemed to prolong the act before finally pressing me over the edge, my body spasming around him until I felt the hot, thick liquid he released inside me. His arms wrapped tight around my chest and he used his weight and strength to press me flat against the bed. He continued to thrust slowly, bestial growls escaping him until he finally stilled. I felt his breath heavy on my neck, and the movement of his rippling muscles as he too began to relax. 

When I came to, I was on my back, under the covers, as if nothing had happened. I could feel every scratch and welt he had left on my body but when I examined my skin, there were no external marks. I tried to sleep again but lay awake, terrified of what might be happening to me and trying to decide if it was worse that I had entered into some kind of pact with a demon or if I had gone mad and these fantasies were just the dark contents of my mind. 

[adventure-hearts]

Epilogue Celebration: “Couples”

The Epilogue is my favourite timeline for Sora x Yamato, so ofc I’m going to use this prompt as an excuse to talk about them. But how do you sum up a vision built on almost 20 years of headcanons and stories? Here is my modest attempt...

“State of The Art”

As of 2028, Sora and Yamato (40) have been together for around 10 years. The exact timeline of the relationship depends on which of them you ask; when they got back together at the end of the 2010s, they took a while to go from a no-strings-attached relationship to being an official couple. It took them even longer to decide to get married, since both were pretty wary of marriage. 

When, after a few years of dating, Yamato was assigned by JAXA to an astronaut training course in France, he asked Sora to come and live with him. Making things legal made immigration bureaucracy less complicated, so they just took the extra step and eloped. The only witnesses at their wedding were their Digimon partners (something Takeru cries over to this day)! They lived in France for a few years and had two kids, Hana (6) and Ren (3), who were born there. During this period, Yamato, who had a position at the European Space Agency, completed two space trips, while Sora worked at a big Parisian fashion house. 

In 2025, after Yamato’s international assignment ended, they relocated to Japan, and Sora decided to start her own fashion label, to great success. Since both make decent money, they now live in a lovely house with a garden and have a comfortable financial situation. This is where we find them at the time of the Epilogue.

Raising the Kids

Sora was initially scared of becoming a mother. Growing up with everyone treating her as a “mom friend” and feeling responsible for the well-being of others, in addition to the pressures of belonging to the Takenouchi family, she was hesitant to have a child unless she was sure she would not mess it up. Yamato, on the other hand, craved kids (being very fond of his nephew Théo) and secretly dreamed of having a child with Sora, but didn’t push the subject much until Sora decided for herself.

Sometime after Hana’s birth, after it was clear that they both were made for parenthood, they were happy to expand the family, but there were a few health issues during pregnancy and childbirth. Baby Ren was born premature from an emergency c-section, and they were told conceiving again was very unlikely. So, with some regret, the Takenouchi-Ishida family was complete.

Sora and Yamato are usually on the same page when it comes to raising Hana and Ren. They value their happiness and freedom above everything else, and living abroad influenced them and made them have a pretty modern approach to parenting. 

Yamato was raised with practically no rules or adult supervision, and Sora was the opposite, so they try to find a balance for their kids. It’s usually Sora who enforces rules, because Yamato is very easily manipulated by the kids who tend to get their way around him every time. By contrast, Yamato is the hands-on, overprotective dad who truly believes his children to be faultless and superior to all other kids, something Sora tries to balance a little to make sure the kids are polite and unspoiled.

It isn’t always easy to juggle work-family balance, but they have a lot of help and support from their parents, especially since they moved back to Japan. Hiroaki, in particular, is a keen baby sitter, but all four grandparents almost fight over who gets to watch the kids when Yamato and Sora are working!

Relationship Dynamics

Sora and Yamato are very passionate and devoted to each other (after all, they’ve been in love since they were teenagers, even though it took them a long while to get together), but they also have a somehow atypical relationship.  They aren’t openly demonstrative in public. They were the last of the group to start a family. They don’t share a last name (because Sora is an only child and heir to an important iemoto family, like her mom, she didn’t change her name after marriage; a recent law allows Yamato to keep his birth name, but the kids are Takenouchi). They eloped instead of having a big wedding. They have demanding careers that involve traveling abroad and off-planet. They happen to both be former Chosen Children (although Sora “retired” from Digimon business in 2010).

This means that they are pretty independent, and they are used to spending time away from each other. The saying “absence makes the heart grow fonder” is key here! Yamato and Sora make sure to treasure every second they do spend together and enjoy it to the max. Friends joke they are weird, but behind closed doors they are constantly on the honeymoon phase, because they don’t really have time to get bored with each other.

Supporting each other’s careers is an important aspect of the marriage. They are both passionate about their jobs. Sora made it clear, from the start, that she would not be willing to get married or have kids if that meant sacrificing her dream of becoming a fashion designer or that she wouldn’t accept anything other than an egalitarian partnership with her husband and co-parent. Luckily, Yamato is a good housekeeper and sharing chores hasn’t been much of a problem here (though she still struggles with some of the habits he acquired living with his Dad). Sora is also very understanding of Yamato’s dangerous job and can handle it better than most (though of course she worries!).

Although Sora moved across countries for the sake of Yamato’s job, and has to take care of the kids alone when he was off in space (which required her to postpone her career plans for some time), Yamato was also the main person who supported her decision start her own fashion house in Japan. Nowadays, he’s usually the one who misses work to stay home with the kids while Sora works weekends and late nights, running her growing fashion empire.

Yamato has only been on one space travel since the kids were born (he spent eight months away from home in 2026) and now has a very flexible schedule that lets him spent lots of time at home. This coincided with the period when Sora was building her brand and achieving success, and so was more busy than ever. They try to arrange their schedules so they don’t spend more than two weeks apart and Sora devotedly schedules “dates” so they have quality time together. But both know it’s inevitable that he will be called again, especially if a threat appears or if world governments decide to invest in a Mars mission, so this work-family balance may face some challenges in the near future.

For them, emotional distance can be more of a problem than physical distance. They tend to avoid discussing problems and fears when they aren’t together, and so sometimes they feel a little isolated with their feelings. Sora often feels very overwhelmed with her many responsibilities (running a successful label alongside with helping her aging mother with the Ikebana school), but is too proud to ask for anyone’s help, and can feel disgruntled when she feels Yamato isn’t paying enough attention to her. Meanwhile, when Yamato has an important work-assignment in his hands, he throws himself headfirst and can become distant. He often feels guilty for neglecting his wife and kids and worries about not being present enough, because his fear is that history will repeat itself. 

Rest assured, though, because marital problems are a rarity. Years have helped them communicate better and they know each other inside out; this a mutually satisfying, supportive, and harmonious marriage all around.

Random Couple Headcanons for the other Chosen

Miyako & Ken - Happily married eternal lovebirds; the kind that don’t shy away from embarrassing their kids in public.

Mimi - Surprisingly uninterested in serious romantic relationships, she decided to have a baby on her own.

Takeru - Went through the marriage, baby, and divorce phase while still in his mid-twenties. His ex-wife is a French Chosen Child who lives in Japan, and who has since remarried. They have a very friendly relationship for the sake of their son and share 50/50 custody. Since his divorce, Takeru enjoys the single life to the max, without any desire for a serious relationship with anyone except maybe one woman.

Taichi - Recently went through a litigious divorce and is having trouble with his ex-wife. He’s been trying to make sure his son isn’t affected by this, and has been relying a lot on his sister and his closest friends for moral support. 

Koushirou - Married a fellow researcher and is by all accounts very happy.

Jou - Happily married his high-school sweetheart, who is also a doctor.

Iori - His wife was one of Miyako’s former co-workers and her protegée, and she now stays home and manages the family. They married very young because they didn’t see a point in waiting to have a committed and stable family.

Hikari - Married an older man who died suddenly of cancer a few years back. She lives with her parents who help her raise her little boy. Has a lot of suitors.

Daisuke - Never married, but had a son with an ex-girlfriend when he was pretty young. He’s currently engaged to a handsome, wealthy American restaurateur named Dave.

[ao3porcelainstorm]

poison ivy & stinging nettles 26

On Ao3

Masterlist

Pairing: Sherlock/OFC

Rated: M

Warnings: eventual violence, torture, swears, adult themes (no explicit smut)

Chapter 25 - Chapter 27

Chapter 26 - Fall

The Journal of Amelia Brenner

My therapist suggested I try writing down my thoughts. She said it might help me reflect on all that’s happened, a way to take on the grief.

I don’t really have a lot to say. I don’t think. I’ve never really been a writer, words are hard to come up with. It’s fair easier to throw a bottle of red paint at a wall and call it anger.

So I’ll just write down what I know.

John’s started up with his therapist again. I guess he’d stopped since meeting Sherlock, but since everything- he’s not doing well. I don’t think any of us are.

We moved out of Baker Street. There’s too much there. Everything just radiated Sherlock Holmes and I think the memories are still too fresh for both of us.

Ruthie is letting us rent the apartment above the old flower shop. The whole building was rebuilt and renovated. It’s better than it was before the fire- if I’m being honest. Not to mention, it’s bigger and doesn’t have the distinct smell of human flesh and sulfur.

John’s at work a lot more. When he’s home, he goes straight to bed. Sometimes he’ll come home stumbling from the pub.

I get it. I’d done my fair share of drinking alone, watching Doctor Who reruns all day.

Molly won’t answer my calls. I’m worried she’s not doing well, but I can’t find the energy to get dressed and visit in person. I can’t find the energy to do much anymore.

I tried painting the other day and ended up kicking a hole through the canvas. John came home and found me with a bottle of Merlot, laying in the middle of my room- the walls coated with thrown bottles of paint.

He suggested I get a day job to pass the time. Maybe he’s right.

All of my free time had become Sherlock.

I followed him to crime scenes, talked to him, laughed with him, slept with him. Everything was him. I didn’t mind. It wasn’t bad at all. For once, it was nice to feel important, to help bring happiness to others. I was spending time with the man I love and my best friend, every day.

Who could ask for anything better? I loved my life and now it’s careening off the rails and no matter how long I stare at the cliff I’m headed toward, I refuse to accept the reality for what it is.

Sherlock Holmes is dead, and there’s nothing that will change that.

(--)

Amelia had been through her fair share of no-win scenarios.

It wasn’t missed that the majority of them had happened since Sherlock stumbled into her life, but she wouldn’t have traded the experience for anything. Life lessons and finding love; all that nonsense.

So, when Moriarty wasn’t convicted for his part in the large crimes he’d committed in broad daylight, she realized that once again, they’d fallen into his game. A game where there were never any winners in the end.

Sherlock didn’t handle the news well. He was short-tempered, distracted, and when the little girl screamed as she’d recognized him, Amelia didn’t miss the murmurs and rumors that stirred after he fumed out of Scotland Yard.

She didn’t miss the uneasy look John shot her, or the other officers’ eyes boring into her back- more rumors that connected dots regarding her relationship with the detective.

He’d had a meltdown before they tried to arrest him, ranting about Moriarty making his move.

He was in the spotlight now, John had mentioned so much after the painting had been returned and Sherlock’s photographs peppered the front pages of local papers.

It was a wise time to strike, on Moriarty’s part, even Amelia had to sheepishly agree with the logic.

When Sherlock, and soon John, were arrested, Amelia hurried out to watch the men run off- Sherlock acting like he’d lost his mind.

She sprinted after them, promising Greg she’d calm them down. Figure out what happened.

Clear his name, was the unspoken promise between her and the unnerved inspector.

The boys moved fast, reminding Amelia exactly who she was working with. They were a step ahead of her the whole day.

Sherlock was getting desperate and did his best work in those cases. People tended to underestimate those at the end of their rope, and she’d almost fallen into that trap.

Thankfully, John shot her a text after an hour into her search.

An address tied to some reporter Sherlock had mentioned during the trial.

It was something, and she hoped the detective hadn’t mucked up the whole thing. The media would have a frenzy with his seemingly insane actions of the last twenty-four hours. She already was dreading the newspapers in the morning.

The British media was a brutal, cruel monster.

She arrived at the address, electing to listen to the voices inside bickering when a familiar voice commented behind her.

“You know what I love about a tragedy?” Moriarty purred when Amelia spun around. “It’s always preventable. Some miscalculation, some overzealous emotional decision- but the hero overlooks the obvious solution.”

Something snapped in Amelia. Fueled by a rage she’d ignored in lieu of healing, she shoved him back against the hallway wall.

He seemed genuinely surprised by the outburst, laughing quietly when she pinned his neck under her forearm, cutting off his breathing.

“Why shouldn’t I kill you?” she snarled. “I have every reason to.”

“They’ll think Sherlock did it-,” his face was turning blue, but still he grinned at her. “Fraud.”

Amelia hissed an insult under her breath and pulled away. He was right. Of course, he was right. This was his show, his story, and they were all playing their parts perfectly.

“Keep an eye out for the papers tomorrow, love,” he coughed, grabbing a grocery bag off the ground, humming a familiar tune under his breath.

Something clicked in Amelia’s brain and before he could unlock the door, she whirled around and slammed a fist into his gut.

It wasn’t the most powerful hit, but he still reeled over in pain, and that was enough for her.

“You’re not going to win,” she snarled in a low voice. “I’ll kill you myself if it comes down to it.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second,” he smirked and slipped into the apartment.

(---)

John met up with Amelia at the Diogenes Club.

He was thumbing through paperwork that he’d taken from the reporter when she’d arrived, frowning deeper with every word he read.

“He was sold out,” he murmured, handing her the files.

“What?” Amelia blinked in confusion, reading through the intimate details of Sherlock’s life.

A twisted review of the good he’d done, skewed by some distorted story about some actor named Richard.

Richard, whose face belonged to the monster from her nightmares.

The whole thing reeked of Moriarty, but the details...

They involved things only she or John would know and included some things she never knew. Intimate details. Personal details that only family might know.

“You think Mycroft told him?” she whispered, handing the file back to her friend. “When he in custody? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know he did,” John stated firmly. “Who else? We didn’t.”

The thought sent a chill up Amelia’s spine. His own brother. No wonder Sherlock seemed like he was slipping. The whole world was attacking him at every side.

“Is he on his way then? Mycroft?” she asked and John sighed, shrugging.

“Apparently,” he murmured, shaking his head at something he read. “They said he’s usually here by now.”

Amelia nodded and stood up, hand on her phone in her jacket pocket.

“I... I’m going to wait outside,” she mumbled. “I don’t think I could look Mycroft in the eye if he actually did this. We can... Just let me know when you’re done.”

John wasn’t paying much attention when she slipped out and started dialing Sherlock’s phone.

It rang twice before someone picked up.

“Sherlock?” she inquired quietly into the line.

“Are you safe?” he quickly questioned.

“Yeah I’m- I’m with John,” she replied. “Where are you?”

Amelia swore she heard a breath of relief through the line.

“Hospital,” he answered briskly. “Molly is... She agreed to let me stay out of sight here.”

“What’s your plan?” Amelia asked.

“Not yet,” he replied tersely. “I can’t tell you yet.”

“Then you know whatever it is, I’m here to help,” she stated firmly.

“I know,” he paused. “Just stay with John. I’ll be in touch.”

The line went dead, and Amelia shoved the phone back in her pocket. She paced around the sidewalk in front of the Diogenes Club, head ringing.

Moriarty’s words kept playing in her head. A tragedy.

It was clear what was happening, between the story and the doubt the maniac had sowed in everyone’s heads. The public would slaughter him alive when that bullshit story hit the shelves the next day. Sherlock, while a difficult and moody person, was sensitive to the opinions of others, no matter how he tried to play it off.

This had the potential to break him.

Amelia didn’t like the thought of where this could lead. She didn’t like the thought of losing what little peace she’d cultivated in her life. She was scared shitless and shaking when John found her waiting outside.

“I was right,” was all he said before tucking her under his arm and pulling her into a hug. She sighed, wishing that all her worries could wash away with the brief respite. When John pulled away, he looked at her directly.

“I’m scared too.”

(---)

The trio reunited at the hospital laboratory.

“The computer code,” Sherlock explained, bouncing a ball between cabinets, eyes fixed forward. “Somewhere in Baker Street... on the day of the verdict, he must have hidden it.”

“What did he touch?” John asked, approaching, eyes following the ball as it bounced between the floor and counters.

“An apple, nothing else,” came Sherlock’s response. He stood up, fist-clenching around the rubber ball, eyes scanning the air as if the answer would appear.

John tapped idly on the counter, throwing out ideas when Amelia saw Sherlock suddenly tense.

It was subtle, but she watched him glance at the pair before turning away, fishing his phone from his pocket and quickly typing out a message.

When he turned back around, John had been oblivious to the action, but he met Amelia’s questioning look with a frown.

He wasn’t going to tell them his plan, she realized when he started wordlessly bouncing the ball again.

A few hours passed, with John falling asleep about halfway through their waiting. Amelia sat propped against the cabinets on the ground next to Sherlock while her phone charged in a nearby outlet- just watching him.

She watched him fidget and check his phone from time to time. She watched him pace, eyes searching for something not present.

Occasionally he’d mumbled under his breath or bounce the ball again.

She watched him do everything in his power to avoid looking at her or John.

That deep, unnerving feeling she’d felt at the Diogenes club had re-emerged.

This wasn’t going to end well, she predicted. She didn’t know how or what was going to happen, but she knew Sherlock well enough to understand when he was a dozen paces ahead and he didn’t seem pleased.

He knew the endgame, and he knew she would immediately be able to tell that something was off. That’s why he didn’t say anything about his plan.

John’s phone rang, pulling the doctor out of his brief nap. A few quick words and bolted up, looking to the pair while he threw on his coat.

“Paramedics, Mrs. Hudson they say she’s been shot,” he explained breathlessly, tossing Amelia her coat off a nearby chair.

“What? How?” Sherlock’s response came coolly. Unphased. Unsurprised, even.

“Probably one of the killers you managed to- Jesus, she’s dying, let’s go,” he started for the door, Amelia following behind without question.

“You go, I’m busy,” he stated, staring off in the distance.

That wasn’t the right response. Amelia stared in shock, looking to John then Sherlock, for someone to say something else.

John’s expression shifted in awe- anger, surprise, frustration all bubbling to the surface.

“Busy-?” he choked out, hands shaking at his sides.

“Thinking- I need to think,” came Sherlock’s short reply.

This didn’t read right to Amelia. He wasn’t that heartless-

“You need to- doesn’t she mean anything to you?” John’s voice broke slightly. “You once half-killed a man because he laid a finger on her.”

“She’s my landlady.”

“She’s dying- you machine,” John spat out, hands body shaking. When he realized the truth to his own words, something crossed his features and he backed away “Sod this. Sod this. You stay here if you want, be alone.”

“Alone is what I have. Alone protects me,” Sherlock replied, still unmoving.

“Friends protect people,” John snapped. “C’mon Mia.”

Amelia sent a final look to Sherlock, her expression falling when he wouldn’t break away from his selected spot on the wall in front of him. Avoiding her.

This was wrong. This was all wrong.

Hurrying after John, he was about to slide in the cab when she felt her pockets, realizing her wallet and phone had been left behind in the lab.

“Go ahead,” she called to him, turning back to the hospital. “I’ll be right behind you!”

John took off without a second thought, while Amelia raced back to the lab, stopping when she saw Sherlock in one of the back halls- headed for a staircase.

To her surprise, he didn’t notice her, his expression lost in thought while he marched forward, almost trance-like. She stood and watched until he was out of sight, her heart thrumming against her sternum.

Something wrong. Her mind repeated over and over.

Her gut said to follow him, but against her instincts, she let him be. She slipped back into the lab, spying her phone on the counter with a new message from John.

Mrs. Hudson is fine. Somethings wrong.

She knew it.

Racing up the hall, she could hear a closing door above her when she reached the stairs.

Rooftop, her brained supplied, and she sprinted up the steps two at a time, pausing at the metal door leading to the roof.

“...nice you choose a tall building, nice way to do it.”

James Moriarty.

There was a beat before Sherlock’s voice sounded.

“Do it? Do what?” he asked. “Yes of course... my suicide.”

Amelia’s chest tightened.

“Genius detective proved to be a fraud, I read it in the papers so it must be true. I love newspapers,” Amelia could hear the voices stepping away. “Fairytales... and pretty grim ones too.”

What could she do? What was there to do?

She wasn’t supposed to be here.

She wasn’t supposed to be listening.

She fumbled with her phone, shaking hands trying to type out a coherent message to John.

Sherlock in trouble. Moriarty here.

Anything-! But before she could send, an adrenaline rush sent a hitter through her arms and the phone tumbled out of her hands and down the stairs.

Nononononono

This was like her nightmares. Her inability to save anyone. Her curse being forced to watch while-

A gunshot rattled the door and Amelia decided she’d had enough. She’d face whatever awaited on the other side, regardless of who pulled the trigger.

She didn’t expect to find Moriarty, dead on the ground, Sherlock looking panicked, and a gun in the maniac’s hand.

“What are you doing here?” Sherlock was on Amelia in a heartbeat, grabbing her arm and spinning her to face him. “You’re supposed to be with John.”

“My phone-,” she stammered gesturing toward the door, eyes still wide. “Sherlock, what’s happening?”

Moriarty dead. Sherlock on the roof. Suicide.

“No, no, you can’t be here,” he ran a hand through his hair. “Amelia, you need to leave. You can’t see this.”

“He’s dead, what are you talking about? He’s gone,” she tried putting words into sentences that would make sense, but the way he was stumbling around made her second guess her attempts at calming him.

“He’s going to kill all of you, he hired assassins to-” he finally managed, his expression resolved in the information. “Unless...”

“You jump,” she whispered, a hand moving to cover her horrified expression. “Sherlock, think logically, there’s- he’s playing on your emotions. He wants you to think there isn’t another plan- we can call Lestrade or your brother-.”

“There’s no time,” he explained, grabbing her arms. “Please, do this for me. Go downstairs. Forget this, forget all of this.”

“Sherlock you can’t be serious,” tears sprung up in her eyes. “You’re being irrational. Let John and I help, we’re your friends-.”

He cut her off with a frantic kiss.

It was a desperate last kiss that would have normally swept Amelia straight off her feet.

Instead, she clutched into the front of his jacket when he tried to pull away and back toward the edge of the rooftop.

“Please, Sherlock,” she begged. “You can’t- I love you. So many people love and cherish you and I... please.”

He was on the edge of the building, legs wavering slightly when he looked down. He took a breath, pulling his cell phone from his pocket.

“I’m calling John,” he stated, hand holding the phone up for her to see.

Right. John.

John would talk some sense into him. He’d see reason when John-

She didn’t hear much of what was said. Her mind was racing, running through ways of saving him.

Pull him down, stop the jump- anything, but every scenario still ended with him plummeting to his death.

Amelia felt so useless. So pathetic. So helpless.

He was determined to make things right and, in his mind, this was the right path. He’d do what he had to in order to see this through to the end.

She stepped closer while he was distracted, and when he turned to drop the phone, he gave her a final look, a sad smile.

“I love you, Amelia,” he said. “And I beg you, please, don’t watch.”

And before she could reach for him, he jumped.

An inhuman noise escaped her, and though every temptation was there for her to watch his descent, she threw herself to the rooftop and buried her screams in her knees.

Screams filled the street. Onlookers yelled for help.

Her heart felt like it’d been ripped clean of her body. Disbelief danced with the reality of what just happened in front of her own eyes.

Everything felt like a dream after that.

Mycroft ended up being the one to find her, his agents approaching the scene first.

Normally, Amelia would have given him a piece of her mind regarding his place in all of this, but she numbly let him guide her to where John was on the street below.

She caught snippets of conversations. People being interviewed by the police, the random clicks of journalists documenting the famous detectives fall from grace, EMTs murmuring about what it all meant.

Her mind was trying to make sense of it all. Trying to pry some semblance of sanity from the chaos around her.

She found John sitting on the back of an ambulance with a patch on his head.

She didn’t say a word as she approached, instead just wrapping him under her arms and letting him choke out a few tears into her jacket. They’d both been left behind.

The tragedy of Sherlock Holmes wasn’t the unpoetic end he’d faced, it was the guilt and questions he’d left behind in those who cared the most for him.

Chapter 27

[boogiewrites]

Reports & Repertoire 20: Death & Life

Characters: Eddie Brock x Venom x Candace Miller (OFC)

Summary:  The final chapter. Candy faces the consequences of her actions. Life and Death make things a lot clearer somehow... if you can come out on the other side.

Warnings/Tags: Violence. Death. (BUT FLUFF and a happy ending.) Hope you like it. <3 

Click on my icon then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters.

Candy lives a half-life for a little while. Defeated fully and looking over her shoulder. A break comes when someone else manages to release an article on the spree of Roofies and disappearances in the city and all the possible connections. It wasn’t much, there were no names, no fingers pointed or anyone blamed. But it was something and she’d needed a win, no matter how small it may have been.

Eddie was relieved, and so was Venom to a degree. Although he was still steadfast on being able to protect everyone, he was glad Eddie felt better. It allowed for the extra energy he spent being anxious to no longer be used up and therefore not make Venom as ravenous all the time. Edgier meant more food and Eddie was never in the mood to let Venom take control and have his fun. But now everyone had settled back into a nice pattern. Something… normal. As far as normal for them went.

A week later with the air clear and Venom fed, they go out for the evening. Something fun and light and intimate. It was fall now, a comfort in the upcoming holidays and the jitters of her secretly asking him to meet her parents after telling him something she should have long ago. Venom knew it, but telling Eddie and his bumbling nature had been hard. So Candy planned on telling him exactly how she felt that night. To let it all out and tell him what he meant to her, as a friend, a partner, a lover. To let him know she saw him in her future, and to ask him if he saw her in his.

Any serious discussions no matter how welcome and joyous they might be were far from Eddie's mind. They walked through the carnival like children with sticky mouths and hands full of candy when they weren’t in each other’s grasp. A laugh-filled trip through a haunted house, a stuffed Alpaca Eddie got way too into winning her and spent entirely too much money on goes home with them too. 

They sit at the back patio, Candy's head on his shoulder, arms wrapped around one another and Venom quietly waiting in the wings. Fireworks from downtown we’re going off, a crispness to the air could be felt and in each other’s arms was the only place they wanted to be. 

A ring at the door separates them. “That’ll be dinner! Didn’t take them long. Thought with the traffic from the festival it’d take longer.” She says with a pleasantly surprised look on her face.

“These explosions are aesthetically pleasing. Like the ones in July to celebrate the birth of America.”

“I see you paid attention.” Eddie nods approvingly, kicked back with a beer in his hand.

“I always pay attention.” He retorts. “Eddie.” Venom's tone and sudden stiffness brings a cool rush down Eddie's spine.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie whispers, feeling the tension.

————

Candy trots towards the door in her pajamas, bare feet soaking up the cool wood in the house.

“Candy?” A man asks as she opens the door.

“Yeah, do I need to tip you here or on the app?” She asked, fumbling with her phone. 

“We tried to give you a tip but you didn’t listen.”

Her hair stands on end and her eyes shoot up wide and afraid. And they should’ve been. The man is holding a gun. “What do you want?” She whispers with a serious face and tone. Every muscle in her body was tense. She didn’t even breathe. 

“All you have to do is stop. Just shut the fuck up about it. Stop trying to save the day Nancy Drew, this shit doesn’t fly in the real world. You shut up and it goes away.” he waves the gun around as he speaks.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. What you’re doing is wrong.” There are tears in her eyes for too many reasons to name. She’d had self-defense classes. She could get the gun, yell for Eddie and this would be over. The seconds felt  like hours as they say in life or death moments. 

“I’ll say it again. You shut up. And it goes away. I have to give you your final warning.” He extends his arm, gun pointed down and Candy sees her moment. She tries to get in close and gain control, but the man had an itchy trigger finger. It slipped, him only being a messenger to scare her into silence. But it backfired. For everyone. 

————-

“The door.” Is all Venom says before he encases Eddie. He was faster than Eddie could be and took in the scene in front of him with quicker decision making.

Candy was on the floor and bleeding with multiple gunshots to her torso. A man staring in the doorway in horror at them with a gun in his hand. As Eddie screams inside the cage of goo, Venom eats the attacker without a second thought. Now there was no man.

Candy cries out, back against the wall as she reaches out for them. “Eddie…” She wheezes and holds her chest. 

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” He was never good at hiding his emotions when it came to worry for those he cared about. 

“I... they…”

“Shhh, don’t speak. I’m calling the ambulance.” He fumbles and drops his phone into the rapidly growing pool of blood from underneath her. 

“Eddie.” Venom says, tendrils moving down his hands as they touch Candy's pulse points.

“Eddie I-“  her eyes flutter as he cries and groans in fear, his phone continually slipping from his fingers as she sighs out his name, rapidly losing consciousness.

“Shhh shh we’ve got you baby. Don’t worry. I’ll call- SHIT!”

“Eddie she won’t make it.” Venom calmly states even though it helps nothing. 

“We have to DO something we just can’t. FUCK!” His voice breaks and he holds her face as he cries. 

Her head rests in his hand and she smiles for him, her vision tunneling. “Eddie I l-“ 

“Shhh save your energy Candy. Baby, I’ve got you.”

“Eddie I can help but… we have to separate.”

“What?”

“I can’t bond with her. I can try. To heal her, save her.”

He sees her go limp in his grasp and he sobs, hunched over and shaking. “Do it please just- FUCK!” He screeches and shakes her. “Save her, man!”

A warm embrace she finds herself in. Only the thought of “Eddie, I love you. I’m sorry.” In her mind. It’s all Venom hears as he takes her over, connecting to her every fiber and cell as he heals the wounds.

Eddie is left in his own personal hell as Venom works. He’s alone. Utterly for the first time in what felt like forever. There was no voice in his head but his own, and despite not holding the symbiote, his body had never felt heavier or harder to function. Candy lay lifeless, as  Eddie sobbed and held her, choking out please, feeling helpless in the puddle of blood on the floor. If Venom had brought him back, surely he could help her.

———-

“She’ll live.” Venom says, a sluggish head forming from her shoulder and plopping onto Eddie's head. 

Eddie can’t answer. He’s too busy sobbing into her hair to speak, he only nods and pulls Venom into his embrace.

 “The superficial wounds are closed. I’m working on her heart now. It’ll be slow. Very intricate, human organs. Lots of blood to make.” He says weakly. “Wash her, take her to bed. Get us chocolate. Something. Need. Energy.” He hisses as he sinks back into her. 

Eddie does as he’s told. Stripping them both and showering them off, leaving the bloody clothes on the shower floor. He puts her in bed, shorts and a hoodie of his she knows he likes. He touches her so gently, and she feels it, in a way. Venom tells her Eddie has her, and they’ll make sure everything’s okay. 

Eddie left to deal with keeping the blood hidden as the food arrived. He looked a mess, red-faced and puffy-eyed but luckily the young guy didn’t seem to care. He forgets the food and tosses it in the fridge. Locking everything and now to the task of cleaning up the blood. 

He’s never cleaned up a body’s worth of blood before. Towels were no help and paper was too weak. He gathers it all into a pile, slouching it into a garbage bag. He throws their now soaked and blood-stained clothes in as well and tries to make the place looked decent. He can’t do much for the blood spatter on the light-colored walls but, paint could fix that later right? 

He falls exhausted into the bed next to her. He watches her breathing, color back in her face now that had been a ghastly white. “Is she...in pain?” He asks, feeling the tiredness take over his muscles as he tries to push back her hair and hold her hand. 

“No.” Venom quietly answers. “Not physical.”

“Good.” He nods. “Wait, what does that mean?” He double-takes.

“She is distraught. Emotionally.”

“She DID almost die.”

“Yes. She understands. And wants me to tell you she knows who it was.” 

“WHAT?” His brow furrows and his eyes go wide, his weak and human body ready to defend her anyway. 

“It was a message. The men she was trying to expose. They found out it was her. A snitch she presumes from the tone, she says.”

“Can she hear me?” He asks. 

“No. But I can talk to her for you if you wish. She has many things to say.”

“Like what? About the guys who shot her?”

“No. About you.”

“Me? What about me? What’d I do? What does she need?”

“You. Just you.” Venom’s voice reflects the loving nature of her request. “What she wants to say is that she loves you. What she won’t admit is she wants to marry you. She doesn’t want to leave you as much as she doesn’t want you to leave her. She loves us Eddie. Us.” A weak sigh as he feels it all so intensely in the new body. 

“She… loves us?”

“Very much so. She was going to tell us tonight. Tell you tonight. Wants us in her future. To… meet her parents she says.”

“I’ll do anything she wants.” He laughs and kisses her forehead. “I’ll marry her as soon as she can stand if she would. I love her. Tell her I love her so much. I thought I’d lost her and I’ll never let her get hurt again. I’m so sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. You warned her, she says. And you were right.” 

“Are you sure that’s her saying that?” Eddie laughs and kisses her cheek.

“She thought you’d say that.” Venom ripples happily at the love he was being sent. “You should ask her to marry you. After this has passed. I didn’t mention that part to her. She loves us. She will say yes.”

“I need a ring.” He says with rapidly moving eyes. “But we can do that right?”

“Yes we can.” Venom trills happily. 

———

Venom totally healed Candy. Not so much as a bit of bacteria out of place when he leaves her. She awakes in her bed with a gasp and Eddie sitting upright beside her.

“Hey baby, it’s okay. We’re here. You’re good. Take it easy.” He rushes out as he holds her head and chest steady. 

“Eddie I was… I thought I was dead there for a minute.” She speaks softly and takes his hand with wide eyes.

“You were. But Venom fixed you. Good as new. Not a stitch out of place now.” He tells her proudly. 

“Eddie.. I…” She feels exhausted but really good otherwise. Like she’s been hit with a truck but then injected with adrenaline.  She lunges forward and wraps her arms around his neck. “I almost didn’t get to tell you I loved you. And I do. So much.” She whines into his neck and he holds her back just as tightly with a soft smile as he kisses her head. 

“I love you too. The most. So much. You’re not going anywhere Candy. I’ve got you.”

“I don’t think he meant to kill me.” She says with a stark change in tone. “I think it was a warning. He would’ve shot me in the head otherwise.”

“Shhh. We don’t have to talk about it yet.”

“That was…” She lets out a sigh and slumps, letting him direct her against his chest as he leaned back in the bed. 

“You’re okay now. Just rest for a minute.” He shushes her and she accepts it. 

“She is right. Her logic is on point. The angle, the weapon and words… all point to a warning and not a hit.”

“Venom we don’t have to-“

“See?” She mutters into his chest.

“Perhaps if we… lay low. Stop prying…” Venom reluctantly suggests.

“He’s right. I’m so sorry for risking it. For putting us all in danger.”

“S’alright Candy.” Eddie insists with a kiss to her head once again. Her hair soft and fluffy from the bath he’d given her. “If that’s true then… we can rest now, right? Take it easy. Just… us. Not take this for granted?”

“You’re right. We work too hard. I miss you too much. I need you Eddie. All the time.” She says weakly and squeezes his torso as he pouts and returns the affection. “Move in with me. Stay here. I’ll take time off work, so can you. We can hideaway. We can catch up for lost time and just… exist.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I love you and I want you around. I want you to meet my parents. I want you involved in my life, Eddie. I want you here. With me.”

“Then I will. Don’t have to convince me. I’m already sold.” He gives her a soft smile and she kisses him unexpectedly in response. 

“I love you.” She whispers and holds him tight. 

“I love you too. We’ll figure it all out. I’ll move in. We’ll take some time off.”

“I feel like I’ve been away for a year. I feel like I miss you so much and you’re right here.”

“I was here the whole time. Never leaving your side  Candy, don’t ever question it.”

————-

With every bit of confidence they could muster, Candy and Eddie walked into their boss ' offices and said they were taking some time

off. Whenever someone asked, personal reasons was the answer given and due to their contracts, they weren’t left with too much of a choice in the matter.  

A month. An entire month of just them. They huddled up in their little home. Like bunnies, they snuggled, fucked, ate, napped and played. With sight of what was important, everything was lighter, clearer and nothing had ever felt so right. She felt like she'd gotten a second chance, and it was all Venom's doing. She was eternally in debt to him and Eddie. Their long nights and days spent together let her think about what was most important outside of a career. What did she want to leave behind and still do that she had been pushing back in the name of work? It was time to prioritize. 

--------------------

They didn’t leave the house for four whole weeks. They did nothing but enjoy each other in every way they knew how. And with a few nights left of their getaway, Eddie knew exactly how to finalize the best few weeks of his life.

“Keep your eyes closed alright? Just trust me.”

“I do.” She replies happily as she covers them with her hands. He’s taken her downtown and showed her off, fed her the best food money could buy and they got to remember what being around civilized people was like. They much preferred the sanctuary of their home. They laughed a little too loud, kissed a little long for everyone else’s taste. But no one else mattered anymore. 

So as the night moved into early morning, a walk through the architecture of downtown skyscrapers, hand in hand, he stops her at the foot of one. This one being the tallest of them all. And thus having the best view. If you knew how to get there.

She feels an odd whoosh, a rush of air that goes on for a minute but she keeps still, keeps her eyes shut as she feels Venom's embrace. She feels her feet on solid ground again, and she's thankful for it. 

“Okay. Open your eyes but STAY CALM okay? You’re fine. I promise. Venoms wrapped around you, we’re both fine.”

“Are you convincing me or yourself?” She asks with a nervous laugh as she uncovers her eyes but keeps them shut. 

“Uh… a little of both?” His voice breaks and she finds his hand and takes it.

She opens her eyes and her arm reaches for Venom's tight grip around her waist. They were at the base of the needle at the top of the building. Only enough room to stand, she’s left to gawk as she realizes she’s safe. 

“Oh my god.” She whispers, taking in the breathtaking view. Everything seemed so far away, the lights and sounds so concentrated at ground level seemed like faint melodies and twinkling stars up so high. “It’s… this is beautiful.” Her eyes can’t leave the sight as her hand stays firm in his and wrapped in Venom's body. 

“This view was the beginning of me learning to love earth.” Venom adds.

“I can see why.” She shares the sentiment.

“I now know it’s the humans. Like Eddie. Like you. That make it worth staying.”

“You’re very sweet Venom, thank you.” She strokes his happily rippling mass.

“I wanted to give you something no one else could.” Eddie takes her full attention. “I know there’s only so much I can do, and I’m not… we’re not what you planned to be with but, we’re thankful every day that you are.”

She smiles and pouts slightly before Venom brings them chest to chest. “Eddie, baby, you’re more than I could’ve ever hoped for.” She insists with a kiss to his cheek.

“And so are you. You’re, everything to me. Everything I wanna be, everything I’m not. You.. you complete me Candy and I don’t wanna go back to being alone. Not without Venom, not without you. I want you to stay. I wanna make sure you stay.” He insists with hands to her cheeks that surprise her, intensity and fear she wasn’t used to seeing in Eddie. 

Venom swirls up her arm, tiny tendrils taking her hand and holding a ring that shone as bright as the city lights below.

“I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, Candy Miller. Would you do that for me? Would you marry me?” He asks with hopeful eyes that make her chest ache at the thought he might believe even for a second she’d say no.

“I’ll stay with you beyond that.” She promised and kisses him softly. “Of course I’ll marry you.” She laughs against his lips. A warm embrace against the cold winds up so high. A kiss that faded and turned into happy sighs as they caressed each other’s faces in excitement. “You’ve made my life absolutely insane.” She laughs, “But I couldn’t stand it without you now. Without you both.”

“We love you Candy.” Venom almost sings and wraps himself around her head to nuzzle her in the form of a slug-like round head. 

“I love you boys.” She lets out a huge sigh and Eddie beams at her. It went perfectly. She was perfect. It was all so… perfect.

“It will be perfect.” Venom whispers into his head. 

Eddie questions him wordlessly. 

“You’ll see. One more present.” He insists inwardly. “Ready to go home?” He asks Candy. 

“I believe so. I want to cuddle up with my babies.” She teases and kisses Eddie again. 

“And you will. Keep tight. Eyes shut.” He says as they’re sucked together into his darkness and taken in leaps and bounds back to the safety of their bedroom.

“That feels sooo weird.” She laughs stumbling back and sitting on the bed as she’s released.

“You get used to it.” Eddie grins, he had a feeling that he wouldn’t be able to stop for awhile.

“I have one more present.” Venom announces, a more fully formed head to speak to them both. “It is something you both wanted.” 

They both wait with a shared glance as Venom vibrates with excitement. He moves Eddie closer to the bed and stands up Candy as they look at each other with laughter in their eyes he ripples again. 

“Ready?” He asks with a wide smile.

“Yeah, I wanna know why you’re acting so weird.” Eddie playfully jabs him.

“Eddie…” He takes one of his hands. “Candy…” He takes hers and takes a deep breath that was only for show as he didn’t need to physically breathe. He places Eddie's hand to her stomach and places hers on top. “You’re going to have a baby.” He says with tiny tendrils flicking about in celebration. 

“A- What? I’m afraid I can’t be, hun, I’ve got an IUD remember?” She looks at him confused along with Eddie.

“It was destroyed along with your uterus in the shots. I removed it and healed you. I can taste the difference in your sweat. The hormones. They’ve changed.”

She gulps and her hand clenched around Eddies. “Are you… serious?”

“Yes. I repaired you beyond what you were before, you’re a perfectly balanced machine now.”

“We’ve been having sex this whole month and... I…” She feels a little woozy and Eddie braces her back. Careful to read her reactions. 

“Are you serious?” He asks him again. 

“Yes! Why do you keep asking? I wouldn’t have waited to tell you if I hadn’t thought it would make a good present.”

“It… is a good present?” She can hear the break in Eddie's voice. His eyes moving to hers that were still wide in shock.

“I’m… I’m gonna… WE are gonna… OH GOD WILL IT BE AN ALIEN?!” She shouts and Venom rumbles out a laugh.

“No. Sadly not. This is all Eddies work.”

“Eddie.” She squeaks out, His high brows move closer to her own. “I’m pregnant.” She states with disbelief. A pause that makes him nervous then an almost maniacal laugh escapes her. “I’m pregnant.” She speaks again and laughs. “Oh my God Eddie. We’re gonna have a baby. A baby.” She laughs and throws her head into his chest.

“Please tell me these are happy crazy laughs.” He inquires hesitantly and she squeezes him tight.

“After I was shot. I thought about a lot of things. How I spent my time. What I wanted out of life.” She begins without looking at him yet.

“She’s always wanted to be a mother. But never knew when the right time would be.” Venom makes it easier for her, a loving stroke of her hair and pat to her back.

“Exactly. I forget you we’re in my head.” She lets out a sniffle. “My mom's gonna be so happy.” She laughs and it turns to tears. “Eddie we're gonna have a baby.” She starts to sob as he laughs at first at the absurdity of it all. But with the life he’d led, honestly, a baby was about the least crazy thing. A baby was entirely normal in comparison.

“We’re gonna have a baby.” He chokes out before the contagious laughing tears get their hooks into him as well. “We’re getting married and we're having a baby.” He lets out a loud sigh of relief.

“This is crazy.” She laughs as they rest forehead to forehead and wipe away the other’s tears. 

“Is it? Compared to…” He motions to Venom whose big opal eyes were brimming with his version of tears. A sympathetic reaction to his host's emotions. 

They burst out laughing at it all. Because what else could happen that would be more surprising than what they’d already been through? This mantra gave them the outlook they had needed. They would take it all in stride now from experience, they would work through the bad and cherish the good. They kept in mind how absurd it all was, and laughter followed them through it all. Because what could be crazier than what life had already thrown at them?

@hardygal69 @marvelgirl7 @emerald-bijou @brianaisasongbird @vale0413 @izzy-the-ginger​ @chortletortoise @onomatopoetic-aesthetic​ @anrm1 @jademox @nightcraver @venomous-possibiities @tinastarkandco @chipster-21 @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes @queenof-wakanda @s-h-e-w-r-i-t-e-s @peakys-mystic @jaegeeeeer

[avengerscompound]

The Tower: Unexpected, 13

The Tower: Unexpected An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist Previous //

Pairing:  Avengers x ofc, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 1910

Warnings:  smut (orgy, oral sex, vaginal sex), pregnancy

Synopsis: A little over 2 years after moving into the Avengers Tower, Elly finds herself pregnant against the odds.  While some are excited, others are terrified, and pregnancy that none expected to happen causes rifts through the group and threatens to end the relationship.  

Author’s Note:  Written with my little dumpling @fanficwriter013

Chapter 13: Shopping for Twins

The plans were put in place to move.  Tony bought land up in Esopus that sat right on the Hudson.  We saw it via google maps but he was pretty determined that we weren’t allowed to see it in person until it was done.  What we did know was that there was going to be a new state of the art facility for the Avengers.  It would have hangers and landing pads for the jets, labs and offices, gyms and rooms for weapons and combat training.  As well as conference rooms, living quarters and all the other trappings for what was essentially a privately run military installation.  We would be getting a house a little off from it, surrounded by trees and right by the water.

It was exciting to think we were all going to live together like an actual family and not just a bunch of people who were dating and happened to live in the same building.  It was going to be a big change and one that would take some getting used to but I was ready for it.

Now that the house was under construction, I was no longer worried about not having a place for the babies to go.  Things were more certain and I felt more ready for them and what having them meant for us as a group.

Except for the fact that we weren’t at all ready for them.  We had no baby clothes.  No furniture.  No diapers or bottles or wraps.  I was 26 weeks pregnant and we weren’t prepared to actually have babies at home with us in any way, shape or form.

So Tony took Wanda and I to Maddison Avenue to shop for baby supplies.  We wandered through the cribs when I stopped at two that seemed to clip together to form a sort of double crib.  It was a light, cream, stained timber and I ran my fingers over the sleighed ends.

“Twin cribs?  I didn't know these were a thing.”

Wanda came up beside me and picked up the card that described it.  “You didn’t?  They have lots of things for twins.”

I smiled and wrapped my arm around her waist and leaned my cheek on her head.  Of course, my little lost twin would know all about what was available for twins these days.  She’d probably been researching since she found out I was pregnant with twins.  “Do we get one of these?”  I asked.  “They're so big.”

“We could always have one built,”  Tony said.  “Design it how we want.  But this will fit in the nursery just fine.”

“What if they don’t like sleeping next to each other?”   I asked.

“It splits apart,”  Wanda said, moving to the side of it. “See there are, clips here and here.  Then it’s just two cribs.” 

“Yeah, that could work.  So this one then?”  I asked.

“Yep, and if it doesn’t work.  I’ll just make something.”  Tony said grabbing the price ticket from it.

“Of course you could,”  I said nudging him.  I took my list out and my eyes flicked over them.  “Okay, so change table next to match this.  The question is, are we getting one with the bath built-in?”

Tony shook his head.  “No, I’m designing the room to have a deep sink installed.  Easier that way.”

We went over to where the change tables were and selected one that was long and had lots of drawers and had that similar rough-looking washed paint look.  Tony also grabbed the ticket for the most expensive cot mattresses.  On the way to look at the bassinets, I stopped at the rockers and sat in a gorgeous winged backed one.  “I didn’t even consider something like this.  I want this.”

Tony chuckled.  “If you’d let the designer do this you wouldn’t need to consider everything.  It would all be there ready for you.”

I wrinkled my nose.  “Tony.”

“Yeah, Tony.”  Wanda agreed which made Tony break down into laughter.

“Alright, rocker.  Ottoman.  Which fabric?”  He said tossing the swatches in my lap.  I picked a vintage rose color that I thought would match the style of the chair.  We then moved on to the bassinets and Wanda let out a squeak almost immediately.

“Elly!  Can we get the one that looks like a basket!”  She said, almost skipping over to it.  “It has so many colors for the fabric.  We can get pink and blue.  Or white with pink stripes and white with blue stripes.  And they have wheels so we can wheel them into the room with us if they are being hard to settle.”

She was so excited and looked so happy there was no way I could say no to her.  Tony grabbed the ticket for those too and we moved on to the strollers.

I looked over the different types they had for twins.  There were ones that were side-by-side and ones that stacked them one on top of the other.  There were classic ones with four wheels and jogging ones with three.

“Okay.  Here's the question, is it better to stack them and be streamlined or have them side-by-side and take up the whole sidewalk?”  I asked.

“Side-by-side,”  Tony said with no hesitation at all.

“Jogging one I guess,”  I said, thinking about all the runners in our family.  I chuckled thinking about Steve zooming past Sam while he was pushing the twins.  “You think they go fast enough for Steve and Buck?”

Tony thought about it for a moment.  “I'll have to make one. Or special wheels.”

“So don't even buy a stroller?  Or buy one and you alter it?”  I asked.

Tony nodded as he came to a decision.  “I should probably just make it.  They'll need bug guards.”

“Okay.  Let's do it that way.”  I said with a laugh, before looking at my list.  “Diaper Genie, car seats, slings, diapers, wraps, wipes, bottles.  Those are the things that just the best thing is what we want.  Then it's basically clothes and toys.”

We each grabbed a shopping cart and started just putting the best of the medium items in.  Tony getting car seats and bottles.  Wanda baby slings and the cutest and prettiest muslin wraps she could find.  Me grabbing everything else.  We met back in the center of the store.  “Just clothes and toys now and this place has none of that.”

“Okay, I’ll pay and organize this to be delivered and we can drive up Maddison until we find something else.  A little Ralph Lauren for kids.”  Tony said.

We went to the counter and waited as Tony organized and paid for everything.  When he was done we went back out to the Lotus that Tony had parked out front.  I let Wanda into the back and then got in.  “We’re going to need to need to get a minivan or something,”  I said.

Tony looked at me in shock.  “You shut your dirty mouth.  Never say that word again.”

“Minivan?”  I asked.

“Elly!  That’s blasphemy!”

Wanda and I broke down into giggles while Tony glared at us and pulled the sportscar out.  He drove a little way down the street and pulled up at the front of a boutique childrenswear shop.  We all got out and went in.  I grabbed Wanda by the shoulders and looked into her eyes.  “Now the fun stuff,”  I said shaking her.

“Cute little outfits?”  She squealed.

“Yes and toys,”  I said, grinning.  “Let's see if they have little Armani suits to match Tony.”

“Not here,”  Tony said.

“Somewhere?  They exist?”  I asked.

“Of course, but not here.   We’ll get him one.”

“Nice.  You know what they do have?”  I asked him.

“Here?”  He asked.

“That was rhetorical because the answer is …”  I moved down the rack beside Tony and held up an Iron Man onesie.  He frowned at me.  “No?  Cap instead?”  I asked holding up a little Captain America one.

“Those aren't authorized.”  He said furrowing his brow and coming over to me.

I took a look at the label.  “Really?”

“I'm pretty sure,”  Tony said taking it off me and looking at the label.  “Yeah, these aren’t ours.  That’s going to be a problem.”  He took a photo of the label and texted it to someone before putting it back.  “Don’t be buying Avengers’ shit anyway.  We have it in the gift-shop.”

“Fine,”  I huffed.

“Elly.  Little shoes!”  Wanda said poking me which made me perk right back up again.

“Oh, yes.  Shall we?”  I said, and Wanda nodded.  “Alright.  I’m gonna go this way.  You go that way.  Call me,”  I said tapping my head.  “When you find something extra cute and hold it up and I’ll do the same.”

“Okay, let’s do it,”  Wanda said.

We all separated, grabbing baskets and throwing things into them.  Tony wandered the racks, occasionally taking something off and hanging it over his arm as he watched us go completely crazy buying baby clothes and toys.  I’d look at him sometimes and he looked so content.  It was funny to think that just a month ago he’d been hiding from this completely.  I think part of it wasn’t just the babies either.  I think he liked that I was finally just letting him buy stuff, which was easier for me here because it wasn’t for me.

By the time we were done, we had around six baskets full of plush toys, stacking rings, baby mobiles, onesies, little dresses, outfits, and tiny shoes.  “This should do until they're 21 right?”

“Maybe for a year.”  Wanda teased.

“I guess that's pretty good,”  I said and leaned against Tony.  “Alright.  Let's pay. I need to get off my feet.  This was fun but holy crap does carrying two babies hurt your back.”

“Okay, checking out,”  Tony said, taking things off us.  “Why don’t you go wait in the car?”

“You sure?”  I asked.

He waved me off and I kissed his cheek before heading out to the car with Wanda.  She once again had to be let in the back and by the time I was in my seat I sighed in relief.  “You happy?”  I asked.

“Of course.”

I hummed.  “Me too.  I don't know why but... Feels really real now we have things.  I can't wait to have the nursery set up.”

She giggled.  “It still has to be built yet.”

“I know I know,”  I said.  “Did you see how small that stuff was? They're gonna be preemie too.  So teeny tiny.”

Wanda sat up like she’d been shocked.  “Did we get the preemie diapers?”

“Yes,”  I said giggling.  I looked at my stomach and caressed my hand over it.  “That's what I grabbed and then some just regular ones in case these guys are super soldiers and just come out normal-sized.”

“Okay, good. Good to be prepared.”  Wanda said, relaxing again.

“Yeah.”  I agreed.  “What if only one is and one is tiny and the other is huge?”

“Well, we'll take care of them equally.”

“What if one is Bruce's and it hulks out of its diapers?”

“We'll deal with it.”

I giggled.  “So calm about everything.”

She shrugged.  “I have to be.”

I turned in my seat as best I could and looked back at her.  “Why?”

“I want them.”  She said and rubbed my arm.  “We've done the shopping, we've had the appointments. We're doing everything right. There's going to be nothing that can stop us.”

// NEXT