#The instant I saw the first one I knew it was made for Hank and Connor lmao

[infriga]

More dbh text posts, 6/?

(1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8)

[mldrgrl]

His’n

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG Summary: A Hanella Twitter prompt, of sorts.  Hank introducing Stella as his wife. https://twitter.com/hole4gillian/status/1411255101990203392?s=21

The whole Zoom appearance thing was getting to be old hat, so when Hank was asked to appear live and in person at the reopening of an independent book store he frequented, he jumped at the opportunity.  He missed reading to people that actually existed and weren’t just little boxes on a screen.  He missed that instant feedback and energy that only a live audience could provide.  He missed being the center of attention.  

The appearance was on a Tuesday evening.  He asked Stella to go, but she had a late class that night.  He asked Becca to come, but Ziggy had a puppy training session.  He wasn’t terribly disappointed.  It was a rare occurrence to have any of his family at an event and he was fine with it.

Hank was greeted by the owner and manager of Read This, a man named Philip, who he considered to be a step above an acquaintance, but not quite a friend.  They had a relationship built upon reciprocity.  Hank was a regular customer, even name dropped the store a few times in interviews to give it a boost, and Philip always stocked his books and made sure signed copies were on display.

The event space in the store was just a small stage at the back, barely large enough to fit two chairs comfortably, and an assortment of mismatched folding chairs scattered in front of it.  The bookstacks were at angles, pointed towards the stage in a vee formation like an arrow down the aisle.  Hank had done a few signings there in the past and they always felt more like intimate gatherings than events.

Philip kicked off the appearance with a short speech thanking everyone for coming out and for supporting the store over the years.  He kept it short and simple and then gave Hank the floor to a round of applause.  Hank stepped up onto the stage and gave Philip a quick hug before he sat down.  All the seats out in the audience were full - all fifteen or twenty of them.  He took a passing glance at the crowd as he unfolded the pages he’d brought with him that had been tucked into his back pocket.

“Any of you motherfuckers blog about this later and call me an old man for what I’m about to do, fuck you in advance,” he said, taking out the reading glasses he had hooked to the collar of his shirt that had recently become a necessity.  

Everyone laughed.  Someone woo-hooed from the audience and Hank dropped his chin to look over the rim of his glasses.  

“Philip said I could read whatever the hell I wanted,” Hank said.  “So I’m going to read an excerpt from a new novel I’ve got coming out in a few months called Alone Together.  A couple things you should know going in, the novel follows the story of Miranda and Scott, a married couple who are on the verge of calling it quits after fifteen years when the pandemic hits and forces them hunker down together when they’d really rather be anywhere else.  This bit I’m about to read is about half-way in, when Scott is starting to reflect on what exactly went wrong and when.”

Hank paused to smooth his pages again.  When he looked up, he straightened his shoulders in surprise.  He saw Stella, leaning against one of the bookstacks with a mild smile on her face.  She was in her work clothes, a white silk blouse and fawn colored pencil skirt and tan heels.  She had a tan blazer over her arm and her briefcase in hand as well.  He took a subtle glance at his watch as he adjusted his pages.  Her night class should have only started a half an hour ago.

“Uh,” Hank started and then hid a grin behind his fist as he cleared his throat.  “Scott watched his wife at her computer from across the room.  She had her headset on and she was laughing.  He couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d heard her laugh.  It occurred to him that he’d forgotten what it sounded like.”

It took about fifteen minutes for Hank to read the full excerpt.  He was momentarily distracted when he saw Becca walking down the aisle.  She went straight to Stella, gave her a hug, and then turned towards the stage with Stella’s arm across her shoulders.  The surprise of having both his wife and daughter there for him almost made him cry.

When he finished, the audience clapped, and Philip came back onto the stage to moderate audience questions.  All the questions were the same variations of questions he had been asked his entire career.  He could answer them in his sleep.  While he was droning on about his routine and writing habits, he saw Becca tip her head back, whisper something in Stella’s ear, and then duck out from under her arm and walk away.  He hoped she wasn’t leaving without saying goodbye.

“Gentleman in the green shirt,” Philip said.

“You said earlier that you were inspired by the pandemic, so I have to ask, how much is fiction and how much is reality?”

“Are you asking me if I based it off my own life?” Hank asked.  “Well, first of all, I want to make a broad statement about writing in general.  That whole ‘write what you know’ garbage that people, mainly professors, let’s be honest, try to instill into you, is bullshit.  Do you think Bram Stoker was a vampire?  Do you think Thoms Harris was a cannibal?  And believe me, I’m not saying that writers don’t cull from their real life when they’re putting words to paper, but there always seems to be this assumption that if you’re writing a modern story, set in a modern world, that somehow that must be your life and your voice.

“Unlike Scott, I am happily married to the most beautiful, intelligent, way out of my league woman and I would never forget, not even for a hot second, that I am the luckiest bastard alive.  We started off the pandemic in very close quarters and when I was trying to think about what I might be interested in writing next, it occurred to me that I could very well be in a miserable position if my life was different.  But, it’s not my life that I was imagining when I finally sat down to write.  It was two people who were at odds with each other and how would they respond to this?

“I’ll say this, though, and then I’ll get off my high horse on the subject.  There is one thing in the story that I gave to Scott that belongs to me.  I even read from that passage tonight, and I’ll read it again.”

Hank put his glasses back on and flipped through his pages until he found the paragraph he wanted.  He glanced up and out to where Stella was before he re-read the lines.

“He could recall in stunning detail the moment he knew he was in love with her.  It wasn’t a romantic moment.  They weren’t out on a date.  It wasn’t during or after sex, when he was naturally euphoric.  It was on a hot summer morning in August when the air conditioner had gone out overnight and they’d both slept poorly and were pissed off at the world.  He watched her angrily brushing her teeth with her pink cheeks and dark circles under her eyes and in his exhaustion and anger he wished for a moment that she wasn’t there, but then he had a flash of his life without her and suddenly he felt a swelling in his chest that stole his breath.  He never wanted to envision a life without her again, not for a minute.”

Hank stared at the page for a few beats before he finally took off his glasses again and looked up.  He first looked for the man that had asked the question and then he turned his gaze to Stella.  

“The fictional situation was different,” he said.  “But, the feeling was the same.”

Stella gave him a subtle smile and her lips puckered very briefly.  His own lips twitched in response and he finally cut his eyes away.  He took a few more questions and then Philip thanked him for his time and invited anyone that wanted to stay to have a book signed to wait for a few minutes as they set up the table.

As people began to talk amongst themselves, Hank left the stage to go to Stella.  She was chatting with Becca, who had returned with two cups of coffee from the cafe next door.

“Hey,” Hank said, sliding his arm around Stella’s waist and squeezing her hip.

Stella put a hand on Hank’s face and her thumb briefly circled his mouth.  She didn’t say anything, but her eyes held his in a warm gaze.  She tilted her chin up at him and he leaned down and kissed her cheek.

“Daughter,” he said, turning to Becca while still holding onto Stella.  He put his hand on the top of her head and kissed the part in her hair.

“Father.”

“I’m glad you came.”

“We thought we would take you to dinner,” Stella said.  “When you’re finished.”

“I would love that.”

Philip came up from behind Hank and said his name.  “We’re ready for you,” Philip said.

“Philip, this is my wife, Stella Gibson.  And my daughter, Rebecca Moody.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Philip said to Stella and then nodded to Becca.  “We sold out of the hardcover of your last book.  Please, let me know if you’d ever like to do a signing.”

“Sure,” Becca said.

“You’d have to put twice as many chairs out,” Hank said.  He could tell Becca wanted to roll her eyes at him so bad.

“Go do your thing,” Stella said, putting her hand over Hank’s on her hip.  She rubbed her thumb over his and he captured it and pinned it down for a moment.  He nodded and then kissed her cheek again.

“Love you,” he whispered into her ear.

“I see what you mean,” Philip said, walking Hank back to the stage where a folding table was set up.  “She is out of your league.”

“Right?” Hank said with a laugh.  “And she married me.  Unfuckingbelievable.”

The End

[let-them-read-fics]

Blackpink Reaction To Their S/O Surprising Them W/ Dyed Hair

A/N: Hello, my lovely readers! Thank you guys for being patient with me on the requests, I really appreciate it. This is my first time writing a reaction, so let me know what you think. I hope you enjoy. Happy reading, everyone!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Everything is under the cut :)

Jisoo

"Say hello to everyone," Jisoo requests through the phone, looking back up to the screen in front of her with that signature smirk playing on her lips. As fate would have it, she was in the middle of doing a live when you called. The fans love you -- especially since you're so funny and chaotic when you're around -- so you're happy to greet them.

"Hi, Blinks! I'll be there in a few minutes with a special surprise." 

Jisoo lets out a shocked noise at this, considering you hadn't told her about your plans. 

"Oye! Hurry home so we can see it." She says excitedly, lightly bouncing up and down on the bed. With a smile that's evident in your voice, you tell her goodbye.

---

In one swift motion, you scoop up a cheery Dalgom in your arms, laughing at how he licks your cheeks in greeting. 

"I love you, too, buddy."

After setting your bag down on the couch, you make your way to Jisoo's room. Little do you know, she has a surprise of her own in store.

"BOO!" She shouts, keeping her phone steady to capture your reaction to the scare. You tense up and shout, nearly dropping Dalgom in the process, but you recover after a moment. Both of you break out into a fit of giggles, and you look over at the computer on the bedside table to find the fans blowing up the chat. Jisoo wipes the tears of laughter from her eyes, and looks at you again; only now does she notice your new hair. 

At first, she's speechless -- only capable of looking at you with hearts in her eyes. Eventually, though, she finds her voice again. "Y/N! Wow, it looks gorgeous!" She smiles, running her hand through the newly dyed locks. Her accent made the compliment even more special, and you don't even try to stop the grin that tugs at your lips. 

---

Now seated on the bed with Jisoo beside you and Dalgom in your lap, you flip your hair around exaggeratedly as you show it to the audience. The positive comments roll in, and you take turns reading some of them out loud. From her position against the headboard, she can see the different hues of your hair shine and shimmer brightly in the gentle lamplight; she can't help but admire you.

After half an hour or so, she decides to end the live. You pull Dalgom into your arms again and smoosh your cheek up against Jisoo's, making sure to crowd in enough to fit into frame. Something must have gotten into her, because she leans around to press a lingering kiss to the corner of your lips, right in front of the camera. You can only imagine how much harder the fans are going to ship you now.

With a final wave and goodbye to everyone, she ends it. She wraps one arm around your back as her other comes to rest on your thigh, reaching up every now and then to pet Dalgom's head. 

"I'm so happy you like it." You say after a few minutes, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over the room. She lifts her head from its place on your shoulder to look at you. "Of course I do, Y/N. Did you doubt that I would?"

"Not exactly… I was just afraid it might not turn out pretty. You know?" She nods in response, but her heart breaks a little: you have no idea how amazing you are.

"I understand, but you don't ever need to worry about that. Everything about you is beautiful because it's a part of you. You make everything pretty." She gushes, tracing little patterns on your hip. 

You attempt to dismiss her words, throwing a hand into the air while making a little "pshh" sound, but she doesn't stand for it. "I mean it, Y/N. I'm not just saying that. I'm glad to call you mine; you're so special." Her words affect you more than you thought they would, and soon tears are blurring your vision. Who knew dying your hair could lead to all this?

"I don't know what I did to deserve you, Jisoo, but I love you so much. You always know what to say." And it's true -- she does. She knows you get insecure sometimes, and she's always there to reassure you of her feelings when you need it most. 

"And I love you." She affirms, allowing her head to rest on your shoulder again now that you're happy.

Feeling left out, Dalgom lets out a little bark; he wants attention too. In an instant, the room is filled with kissy noises and the sound of your high pitched voices as you both talk to him and shower him with love.

Jennie

"Jen, I'm home!" With a shrug of your shoulders, the warm material of your coat falls down your arms. As you hang it on the rack beside the door, a smile tugs at your lips; Jennie gave you that coat, and it's always done well in keeping you warm and comfortable when she can't be around to do so. You make a mental note to thank her properly. 

With that, you amble into the kitchen.

"Yah, jagi! What took so long? I missed you." Jennie whines, her words slipping past the cute little pout that's surely adorning her face. She's preparing a snack at the counter, her back turned to you as she struggles to open the sauce jar. 

"Here, let me help," you offer, approaching her. 

As she hands you the container, she turns to look at you for the first time tonight. Her eyes widen as she does a double take at you. You don't notice, though -- your focus is elsewhere.

"Jisoo and I saw a new gaming store when we were out today and we decided to stop in. We didn't expect to be there for so long; we just got wrapped up." You tell her, answering her previous question as you finally manage to pop the lid open. Upon sliding the jar over to her and meeting her gaze, an instant blush begins to make its way to your cheeks. Her pupils are blown wide now, and her lips are pursed as she appreciates the sight of you. You never fail to send her heart wild.

"I'm convinced you can rock any color," she flirts, smiling widely at the reaction her words garner from you. 

"Why don't you come a little closer and get a better look?" You ask, fighting the shyness that threatens to take over you. She quirks an eyebrow before sauntering over, swiftly moving to tangle her hands in your hair. "It suits you so well, babe." She compliments, toying with the soft strands that fall down into your face as you lean in closer to her. Her embrace is comforting, as always, and you sigh at the feeling of her fingers against your scalp. Before she can stop herself, Jennie leans forward and connects your lips in a sweet kiss. She tastes like fruit, and you can't get enough of the flavor. Working with a sneaking suspicion, you open your eyes and glance over at her work station. Now, with your fears confirmed, you abruptly pull away.

She groans at the loss of contact, but you're quick to speak up. "You made tanghulu without me?? Woooow, Jennie. I'm hurt." You tease, acting truly upset as you take a step away from her. She shakes her head, letting out a little chuckle; for a second, she worried you were upset about something serious.

"Shush, we can always make more." 

You don't drop the act so easily, though, and the playful glint in her eye tells you that she's enjoying the banter. 

"What else have you done without me today? If you watched that new drama without me then you're sleeping on the couch tonight." A guilty expression falls over her features, and she avoids your gaze.

"About that…" she starts, rubbing the back of her neck as a dry chuckle slips past her lips.

"JENNIE KIM!" 

"I'm messing with you, babe. That would be treason." She pulls you into her arms again, raising a hand and giving you a sort of "scout's honor" gesture to prove that she isn't lying. After narrowing your eyes at her one last time to ensure she's being truthful, you give in and kiss her again. 

"Fine. You'll just have to keep kissing me to make up for the tanghulu."

"Oh, really? I'll have to start making it without you more often, then." She laughs against your lips as you pinch her for that remark. Your mood brightens exponentially at the sound of her giggles, and you wrap your arms around her even tighter.

Rosé

“I'm home, my love!" You shout, slipping your shoes off and setting them beside the door. A content sigh leaves your lips as you undo the top few buttons of your shirt, finally able to relax and see Rosé. Her excited footsteps carry out across the house as she makes her way downstairs, Hank following right along. You crouch down to pick him up, smiling at the precious way his ears bounce around as he runs into your arms. 

"Oww, my heart," Rosie exclaims with a grin, holding her hand against her chest in mock pain. Nothing can compare to seeing her two loves so happy and carefree. She pads her way over to you, and you kiss the top of Hank's head before setting him on the ground. Her arms wrap around your waist, and you pull her in for a warm embrace; the two of you stand like that for a minute, swaying back and forth. Eventually she pulls back to press a kiss to your lips -- something she's been dying to do all day -- and she takes your hat off in order to run her hands through your hair. 

"I missed you, babe." The words come out quietly, accompanied by a frown. You peck her lips again until her pout turns into a soft little smile, and rest your forehead against hers. 

"Me too. But now I have the next 3 days off, and I'm all yours." Her eyes look into yours lovingly, but quickly shift to look at your newly exposed hair. 

A sound of surprise stutters past her lips -- you've truly taken her breath away. She has a special twinkle in her eye as she looks at you, completely in love. Her fingers skim across your collarbone and neck as they move to play with your hair. 

"It's beautiful, just like you." You tut at her and bring your hands up to cover your face, taking refuge behind them. She's quick to pull them away, though, pressing a kiss to your knuckles and wrists before interlocking your fingers. 

"I mean it, Y/N. You're always so stunning." There's no denying the effect her words have on you; even after being together for as long as you have, her compliments never fail to set your heart aflame. 

"How'd I get so lucky, huh?" You ask her as you let your hands settle on her hips. She's clad in a crop top and jeans, and the soft skin of her abdomen against your fingertips is a wonderful contrast to the rough material of her pants. 

It's her turn to blush now. "I love you to the mountains and back and to the far far hills--" your giggles interrupt her recital, and she just laughs along with you. "I love you, too, Rose. So much." She presses another kiss to your cheek before leading you up the stairs and calling out for Hank to follow.

Lisa

As you walk down the hallway of the dance studio, destination set on Lisa's rehearsal room, you can hear the strong beat of "Candy" by Doja Cat pulsing inside. A stray staff member passes by you, looking nearly entranced as you run a hand through your hair to readjust it and smile at her. She watches you walk away, incapable of taking her eyes off of you, and that simple act boosts your confidence tenfold. You had been a little nervous to see how people would react to your new look -- Lisa, in particular -- but all of the approval you've been receiving has eased your worries so far.

With one final, steadying breath, you release your fears and open the door. 

Your girlfriend doesn't notice you come in at first, given that she's totally in her element, her body winding around as she performs the moves expertly. You lean against the doorframe now, taking in the beautiful sight. During one particular part of the song, she does a set of body rolls, putting the muscles of her abdomen on full display as she flexes them. The low lighting of the room sets the mood perfectly, creating just the right ambiance.

"Damn, baby. Am I crazy or are you somehow getting even better?" The words startle her ever so slightly, pulling her from the other world that she was just in. She glances at you from across the room, and a look of confusion crosses her face for a split second. After she registers that you're you and not some random staff member, her jaw drops to the floor. 

Totally disregarding your previous question, she's quick to replace it with her own as she runs over to you. "Y/N! Oh my gosh, why didn't you tell me??" The words come out in a rush as she engulfs you in a tight embrace, and you snuggle into her warmth. 

"I wanted to surprise you. I've been wanting to switch it up for a while, and somebody told me that this is your favorite color." You say, unwrapping one of your hands from her waist and bringing it up to toy with your hair. "Do you like it?" You ask, biting your lip as the nerves begin to creep back in momentarily. Lisa hasn't said anything yet -- she's just been studying your features with the hint of a smirk on her lips. 

"No, I don't."

"Wha--"

"I love it, babe. You're so beautiful." She says as she rests her forehead against yours. 

With a sigh, you nudge her playfully. "Hey, don't do that to me! I thought you didn't like it." You pout, avoiding her now incredulous gaze.

"Look at me." She commands, cupping your cheek gently as she lifts your head to face her. "Did you seriously think I wouldn't like it? You could be bald and I'd still be just as in love with you as ever. But that color looks absolutely gorgeous on you." 

She always knows just what to say. 

"I love you, dork." You grin, pressing a kiss against her soft lips. 

"And I love you. Now, come dance with me." Her hands skim down your arms on their journey to your hands, and she interlocks your fingers. She walks backwards towards the middle of the room, doing a goofy little shimmy on the way. Her antics draw a giggle from you, and she reciprocates. Before long, the two of you are having a full on dance battle as another new song blasts through the speakers.

[fatandnerdy30]

Some Irondad g/t fluff? Pretty please 🥺

Okay....you twisted my arm. This is part one, so if you want to get updates, message me your username and I'll make sure to mention you in the future updates!

After the whole Germany fiasco, the only way for the Avengers to be safe in the world, they had to agree to be put on house arrest, only coming out when the world needed them and no other time.

A lot of the time, the team would hang out in the compound, or just spend the day in the training room, trying to keep busy. But, it was never enough. Every day they would watch the news and see all the evil in the world and want to be out in it, protecting people. No one more than Spider-Man, who was outcast to his apartment in Queens.

And as a hyper-active teenager, he was going crazy! He was banned from watching TV or working on any of his machines or projects. All he was allowed to do was go to school and come home under the watch of government officials. He was so bored!

He wasn't even allowed to call Happy, which he would gladly do if it meant he got to talk to someone! Sure he got to talk to Ned in school and text him when he was bored, but he missed his friend. So that night, he had had enough!

He got his old Spider-Man costume down from the attic space in his room and put it on. The little ankle chain was no problem. Since he wasn't able to eat as much as he needed to due to funding problems, he had lost enough weight to be able to slip it off his body no problem.

Leaving the tracker on his bed, he checked the street. There were three people watching his apartment....but, his room was in a dark spot, which made it so much easier when he had to leave in a hurry, which this was one of those cases.

So, turning off his light, he opened his window as quietly as he could, the teen slipped out into the darkness, his spidey-sense not even twinging. Peter smiled as he crawled across the roof, then let loose a web and jumped off his apartment building, feeling free for the first time in weeks.

While on the way to his best friend's place, he stopped a few muggings, not leaving any evidence he was there and getting a free twelve inch sub out of the deal, which he had devoured in seconds.

Ned's light was off and when Peter checked, his friend was sound asleep, clutching a Yoda plushie, drool covering the poor toy. He didn't want to wake his friend, so he left quickly, webbing his way towards a tall building, sitting on the edge. This was the best he'd felt in like, forever, but he still missed talking with the Avengers. He especially missed Mr. Stark.

Part of his punishment, even though he didn't do anything major, was he was not allowed to even speak to Mr. Stark or any of the Avengers, which Peter hated. He turned and saw the dark Stark Tower and felt tears come to his eyes, burning them.

"You know what? I didn't even do anything during Germany! True, I broke a couple of windows and even though I didn't exactly break the jet walkway, it had fallen on top of me during his fight with Captain America.....so, in a way it was I guess it was my fault. But, I didn't do any major damage! So it wasn't fair that I'm locked up along with the Avengers!"

He sighed and laid back, wishing he could see the stars, but Queens was too bright. You know what, even if he was caught, he was a kid. He could use that to his advantage! And he missed the Avengers, even if he had never officially met them out of his mask. So, he was going to go see them.

It was the holidays, and he had sent the presents to the compound. So, that's what he was going to do. He was going to go to the compound. But, how would he get there? It was basically in the middle of nowhere....that was a conundrum. He went to take out his phone, but he remembered he'd left it home just in case someone tracked it. He began walking along the edge of the building, swinging a leg every now and then over the edge until he got an idea.

Buses were always going everywhere in America, so he had to just find a bus that was going to LA and catch a ride on top! With excitement, he flung his webbing until he sat on top of Madison Square Garden, scaling down the dark side of the building until he got to a point where he could see the terminal and focused on the board. There was a bus leaving for Los Angeles right now!

Smiling, Peter quickly located it and shot a web, pulling himself towards the moving vehicle, landing on top of it as quietly as he could. Now, the trick was to stay warm during the ride. Peter was shivering as the bus pulled into the terminal.

Six long days, riding on the outside of a bus, during December was not a good idea. He should have thought it through, but he was determined to see Mr. Stark. So tired and very hungry, Peter shot a web and the boy took off towards the compound, feeling more lighthearted than he had in a long time. The lights were off in the building, which was perfect for Spider-Man.

Quietly he landed against one of the windows, pressing against it to see if it opened, which it did. Slowly Peter began crawling up to the ceiling when a noise caught his attention and he snapped his head up, looking down to the ground. Peter couldn't keep his eyes off Dr. Banner, who stared back at him in shock. "And who are you?" the man finally asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Oh, um....I'm Spider-Man...." the boy stuttered. This was the actual Bruce Banner he was talking to! The man who had been his scientific idol since he discovered a beaker! "Th-this isn't what it looks like....I-I mean I know I kind of came in like a thief, but, I can explain that and.....crap."

"I should get Tony," Bruce started, but the boy's eyes widened and he ripped his mask off, brown eyes wide.

"Please don't tell Mr. Stark! He'll kill me if he finds out I'm here!" He dropped in front of the doctor, grabbing the man's white coat.

"Whoa!" Bruce cried, backing up a step. "Okay, okay, I won't tell him. Just, take a breath and try to explain, okay?"

The boy nodded and took a deep breath. "I-I'm Spider-Man, as i said...and I just missed Mr. Stark so much, I'm not allowed to call him, even though I didn't even do anything in Germany, I'm locked up with my Aunt and I just needed to get out, and I thought I would visit with Mr. Stark and the rest of the Avengers.....and I'm just realizing how bad of a plan this was. Am-am I in trouble?"

Bruce sighed. "I can't answer that, kid. I'm not Tony, but I will say he'll be shocked when he finds out, which he will."

Peter's face went white and he shook his head. "No, I have to leave. I'm sorry I came here, Dr. Banner. I gotta go!" He turned and suddenly his stomach rumbled loudly, making the boy blush.

"Wait," the man said as soon as the boy let a web loose from his wrist. "It's obvious you're starving and I can't let you leave like this. So have something to eat and stay the night. You can leave in the morning, OK? I would hate for a kid to go hungry and I could have prevented it."

Peter paused and nodded. "Y-yeah, yeah, you're right. Thanks Dr. Banner." He shook the web from his wrist and walked over to the table where the man had been standing....in the dark. He looked down and gasped. "Whoa! Isn't that the size-changey guy's?" He leaned in closer. It was in some kind of magnetic force field, pinned to the table by pins and clips.

"Yeah. Tony brought it back after Germany, and with being stuck here with nothing to do, I decided to study it. I know it's used to make things grow larger, but how it's done, I have no clue." Banner took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I'm gonna go get you something to eat. You stay here, kid, unless you want Tony to find you and punish you." The boy's body shook at that and Bruce smiled. "I'll bring you back a hot cocoa, then I think it's time you got some sleep." Peter nodded, trying to hold back a yawn, failing spectacularly. "Do no touch anything, okay? I'll be right back."

Peter stood in the middle of the lab, swinging his hands back and forth, just looking around when a flash got his attention and he turned to see something tiny moving around on Dr. Banner's table. "What is that?" he wondered out loud, then his eyes widened. It was the size-changey guy! "Hey!" he yelled, and pointed his wrists toward the little guy.

"Being here is a big no-no, especially for you, little....big guy..." He shot a web at the small man, but he dodged it, continuing to run across the table. "Whoa, you're fast! Try this!" He shot multiple webs, but the little guy dodged all of them like he knew where they were going to be. "Oh man, you're awesome! But, like I said, you're not allowed in here!" He ran towards the table, webbing a beaker on his way, about to drop it on top of the little man, when suddenly he grew to a full size man, who stood there, staring at him.

"You're Spider-Man!" he cried. "You're just a kid! I could have killed you!"

"Hey, I'm fifteen!" Peter defended. "I'm not a kid anymore! Now get out!" The man moved to the thing he'd come after, not wanting to hear Hank's lecture about his inventions landing in the wrong hands and all that.

"I will, but not without this," Scott said, grabbing the disc from the table, wincing when he passed through the magnetic field that protected it, and feeling a tingle through his whole body. He saw the boy move and he brought his thumb to his activator, when suddenly the kid jumped and landed on his back the instant he pressed the button.

Something went wrong, because suddenly, he was getting smaller, but also the weight on his back wasn't getting heavier. In fact, it stayed the same....Scott looked back and was met with the face of a scared boy, brown eyes wide as they were pulled to the ground. He let go of the button, stopping his shrink much larger than he was used to. He had to be five inches now. "Wh-what did you do!?" Peter cried.

"Don't blame me!" Scott yelled. "You're the one who jumped on me!"

At that, Peter scrambled off the man's back, staring at his arms, then lifting his head to stare at everything else. "No, no this is not cool! Change me back!" Suddenly the ground started trembling and Scott shot the kid a sad look.

"Sorry, kid, but I gotta go." He clicked his generator and grew, running towards the window just as Bruce came in, shock showing in his face as Scott ran to the open window, jumping through it, clicking his alternator as soon as he made it out, landing on his waiting mount, taking off with a sad look back at the building. He hoped the kid would be all right.

Peter was freaking out. He couldn't believe this....he'd been shrunk! He was just trying to protect Dr. Banner's lab from the Scuba suit guy, and he shrunk him! In full panic mode, Peter's hands fisted in his hair as he turned in circles, looking up with wide eyes. "No, nonononononono," he moaned.

Suddenly, a black shoe landed next to him, and Peter screamed, his senses going wild. He ran from the shoe, only to have another land on the other side of him. "Peter?" he heard Dr. Banner call his name, his voice holding a worried tone as his head swiveled, looking around. "Peter, where are you?" The volume of his voice hurt Peter's too sensitive ears and he covered them with a wince, eyes looking at everything his senses were calling a threat, which at the moment was everything.

"Doctor Banner!" Peter yelled, waving his arms. "Doctor Banner! Down here! Please, look at the floor!" The boy started jumping up and down, but the doctor never looked at him, instead, he kept looking around at all of the webbing on everything. That's when it came to Peter. He had powers. "I feel like an idiot," he grumbled, feeling his face heat up.

He was about to start running when Doctor Banner took a step, his shoe sailing over Peter's head, the ground shaking when it landed and he walked over to the table. Peter took that chance to run over to the lab table, not wanting to waste any webbing just in case, and latched on to the table leg, crawling up as fast as he could, slipping a few times from the slickness of the metal table. Finally after ten minutes of climbing, he made it to the top, panting and clinging to the metal top.

"Oh man that was scary," he said. It reminded him of the trip he took to Washington. Resting a minute, he got up and saw Dr. Banner making a face while he tried to pull the webbing off of his stuff. "This is disgusting," Bruce muttered. "Doctor Banner!" Peter cried, running over to where the blue disc had been, slipping on the metal a few times in his rush.

"Hey! Down here! Please look at the table!"

Bruce's ears picked up a voice calling him and turned, but it told him to look at the table...slowly he looked down and when he spotted the tiny human shaped thing calling his name, his eyes widened to a comical size. "Ahh!!"

Peter covered his ears at the man's scream and shrunk back from the giant man, looking up with a wince. "Not so loud," he cried, shaking his head. "It hurts my ears." Peter walked over to the doctor, stepping around the fingers that were the size of him now.

"What happened?" Bruce asked, keeping his voice lower.

"I-I don't know! I did what you asked, when suddenly, I saw the giant guy from Germany come in here. I tried to protect your lab-sorry about the webs- from him. I tried to stop him, but he took the blue disc, and I jumped on his back, when suddenly a shock went through me and when he shrunk, so did I! And then, he left me like this!" Peter raised his hands, letting them fall to his sides, tears burning his eyes. "Y-you're a doctor, right? Can you fix me? Please tell me you can..I don't want to stay like this!"

"Calm down, kid....take a deep breath, you'll be fine. It may take a while, but I will find a way to fix you. But, for now, I think we should let Tony know."

At that Peter's eyes went wide and he started shaking his head so fast he got dizzy. "No! Please don't tell Mr. Stark! He'll find out I snuck out and probably punish me by sticking me in a box for the entire time I have to be here!"

Bruce chuckled. "Don't over-exaggerate. Tony's an understanding guy, so I'm sure if you pour on the cute act and tell him you missed him so much you had to sneak out to see him, he might forgive you." Banner started to reach for the boy. "Now, let's go explain things to Tony."

Peter watched the giant hand come at him and screamed, his body reacting before his mind could. He grabbed the overly large fingers as soon as they tried wrapping around his body and he heard the doctor let out a yell, and Peter opened his eyes just in time to see the man go flying over the counter, landing on his back with a loud wheeze.

"Holy shit!" the boy cried, running to the edge of the table. "Doctor Banner, a-are you alright?! I'm so sorry, I don't even know what happened!" Bruce stared up at the tiny face staring down at him, trying to get air back in his lungs.

"It's okay," he puffed and rolled to his front, shaking his head. "Just, tell me, what was that?" Peter took a step back when the man grabbed the table by him, shaking it.

"I-I just felt I was in danger, and my senses have been going haywire since this happened, and I reacted....I did whatever I do to things that are a threat to me...I threw it."

Banner smiled at the kid, seeing his tiny face go red. "Well, now we know not to grab you. Just know, I won't hurt you."

"I know, but right now, everything feels like a threat! Everything is so big, Doctor Banner.." Peter sniffled and wiped his nose on his suit. "I-I'm scared.."

The man sent a sympathetic look to the boy. "I know, but we'll get this taken care of. I promise, okay? Now, let's try this again." Bruce got to his feet and slowly lowered his hand to the table, flattening it out. "Take your time."

Peter just stared at the large palm before him. He was shaking, but that was thanks to his senses. He knew Doctor Banner would never hurt him, in his current form, anyway. He heard too many stories about how gentle the man was when he wasn't angry, and from those stories alone, Peter trusted him.

So, he took a step, then another, until he was stepping into the man's hand. It felt squishy yet firm under his feet. "Whoa! I can fell your heartbeat!" he called up to the doctor, missing the smile he got. "And your muscles keep twitching everywhere I step." He wanted to try something. He took a leap and landed on the other side of the doctor's hand, falling on his face when the muscle he landed on jumped and tripped him.

"Are you okay?" Bruce asked, feeling the odd sensation of the boy on his hand.

"Yeah...sorry about that, just an experiment." Peter settled on the man's hand, sitting facing the now giant doctor. "Do..do we have to tell Mr. Stark tonight?" he asked nervously.

"I think that would be best, kid....If he finds out in the morning, he'll be even angrier knowing you've been here all night. Speaking of, why hasn't Friday spoken?"

Peter brought a hand to his neck. "That's my fault....I asked her, if I ever came again, not to tell anyone..."

The doctor shook his head. "Tony's not going to like that."

"What won't I like?"

[constantlydiscombobulated]

charlie weasley x reader fic - a weasley christmas:

The third Christmas after the Battle of Hogwarts was different, the first two were hard. The first was so soon after the events which occurred, the second held a bit of distance and the third, this Christmas, is when people had finally let themselves relax and get back to normal. Since the war you had returned to your training to be a healer, in fact you had completed it. You were getting a couple of years’ experiences before jetting off to do something spontaneous with your skills.

Your Christmas had always been the same, you were one of the many bodies at the Weasley abode; a background character and accomplice of Charlie who you shamelessly flirted with to make his face turn the beetroot shade that you were highly entertained by. He was a ginger so of course he easily blushed.

So, this year, when you appeared outside the warm, familiar home in which you would spend the next few days you could finally feel the tension behind your shoulders relax. You were eight years older than Ginny, seven years older than Hermione yet you knew it was tradition you would be in quarters with them.

You and Charlie kept things long distance, which in hindsight wasn’t the best choice but when the second month of next year finished you were transferring to the Dragon Sanctuary in Romania to work as head healer, coincidentally where Charlie worked, yet none of the Weasley clan knew of this yet.

You had sent a bag of things to the burrow the night before, so you assumed someone had stowed it away where you were sleeping for the next few days. It was Christmas eve and as per usual you were the last to arrive. It was just shy of 8pm when you left St. Mungo’s as each year you drew the short straw and did the second to worst shift.

Your feet crunched against the moist yet crisp grass below your feet. The winters always hit the burrow hard, a feature you loved the most. You stepped over a couple of sleeping gnomes, before glancing up at the stars – they always shone so brightly, something unusual for the location of the house. You opened the unlocked door and slipped right in.

As tradition plays, the Weasley’s would be drinking eggnog, sharing stories of the year and blasting obnoxiously loud Christmas music. So, when you entered, you weren’t even noticed, barely and not immediately by Charlie. He looked up after he frowned at his watch, you presumed it was because you were a little later then you had informed him. He slipped from the crowd of gingers and noise to meet you in the kitchen.

You still wore your scrubs and white jacket with your name embroidered on the pocket. You had charmed a small embroidered dragon onto it last week when there was a quiet spell at mungo’s. you smiled underneath the dim light in the kitchen, seeing a plate of food on the table.

‘y/n’ it read in molly’s cursive scrawl. You smiled at the gesture, it dawning upon you that you were indeed starving. Charlie kissed your forehead before sitting across from you. He had been in England for a few days, but you had pretty much worked back to back shifts in order to get this time off over Christmas.

“how was your day, love?” he asked, you had just taken a huge bite into a sandwich from the plate, chewing and swallowing with haste in order to reply.

“busy, the bags under my eyes are darker than your soul”

“didn’t think I had a soul” he retorts, you smirk at him. Charlie was always in favour of a well-timed ginger joke, “they’re torturing you because they know their best healer is ditching in a couple of months”

“yeah, ditching for a Weasley of all people” you joked, he mocked offence before sinking back into light conversation.

“you might be tired but you’re still the most beautiful girl this side of Europe” he comments, sipping from your glass of pumpkin juice.

“if the other beautiful girl is Sofia, I’m going to kick you in the shins”

“she’s a dragon love, you are the most gorgeous human” he adds, laughing a little on the end.

“I’ll forgive you if you stop drinking my pumpkin juice.” He chuckles, drinking the rest from the glass before placing it beside the plate you were eating from. “you’ve got more scars” you notice, gesturing to his hand.

“don’t tell mum but I’ve got a couple more inked dragons too” your face smiled in delight; he had told you in letters he had planned to, but you hadn’t had much time to write these past two weeks.

“as long as your bedroom door is unlocked tonight and I can slip in, I’ll promise you the world” he rolled his eyes but nodded.

“how is Sharon?” he asked, “the battle-axe”

“she’s off my case now the festive season has been bestowed upon us. She didn’t want to get me in secret Santa again after last year”

“what--?”

“I gave her some of the wizard wheezes, the custard creams I think.” You laughed, your connections to the Weasley’s almost gets you excluded from secret Santa every year. “I got you a present” you claim, changing the subject. His ears perked up at your comment, he hummed in response, “a date. March 25th. We’re gonna elope.” You stated, your voice quiet not wanting to be overheard. Charlie beamed at you, about to take your hand in his when a nonchalant voice filled the room.

“late as usual” George calls, tackling you in a hug as you chewed the remainder of the sandwich in your mouth. You hugged him back briefly, Charlie, jealous at the hug, watched the exchange. “why didn’t you shout?” he quizzed.

“was Hank Marvin, Weasley, Charlie just sat down to pester me” you teased, “anyway, I’m showering soon, I’m still in my scrubs” you complained, gesturing to your clothes.

“still a fine piece” Charlie joked, this obnoxious flirting had been apparent since you met Charlie, Bill had originally asked you home for Christmas seven years ago. You had spilt fire whiskey over him in the three broom sticks and you were instant friends.

“oh Charlie” you cooed, dramatically holding your head against your head, “you spoil me with your sweetness and love” you had put on a love-sick voice which only made the men in the room snort. “Char, sort the shower for me. I don’t wanna find a gnome or a Weasley in there when I’m starkers” you asked, he smiled politely and nodded. You followed him upstairs picking up some things from Ginny’s room to use in the shower or drop off in Charlie’s room.

He sorted the bathroom out for you, surveying it for ghosts or gnomes. You walked in changed from your work gear, dressed in a silk, high rising gown, barely tied around your body. His gaze glanced at you and quickly back to the shower, his hand beneath the running water to check it was at your preferred temperature.

“this is new” he stated, you nodded shyly shutting and locking the bathroom door behind you. You hung the gown on the hook on the back of the door, he sat on the closed toilet seat your pyjamas on his lap. He watched your every move as you stepped into the shower. His face was flushed, his body language restraint.

“you can come in you know” you called, to which he followed through on quicker than the speed of light. His body pressed against yours, he just hugged you from behind nuzzling his face into your shoulder. You continued your actions of showers, trying to disturb Charlie as little as possible.

“stop doing that” he whined, you were confused you were shaving your legs and putting some soothing shower gel on them to prevent a rash. You hadn’t realised you had been creating friction. You turned to face him, he looked like he did in his most pure form. His glasses had been discarded on the windowsill by the shower, his long hair stuck to his wet form. You kissed him, begging to just hold him.

Charlie had visited ‘home’ a month ago, but the first few nights he was back was always the worst; you both were clingy, sleepy and horny for each other. The con of long distance, I guess.

Things escalated quickly, he had you against his chest, legs wrapped around his waist and against the tiled wall. It was antics like this which would get the two of you caught but you couldn’t find it in yourselves to care.

Once the deed was all said and done, you rinsed yourself off and got out the shower. Charlie borrowed the towel you had brought in to dry his body with before putting his tartan pyjamas and Weasley jumper on; he only wore this arrangement as you loved it on his so much. You slipped on a pair of shorts and one of Bill’s old Weasley jumpers dating back to his time at Hogwarts. He had donated it to you the first year you spent here so you would feel like you belonged here.

The year you met Charlie.

You engulfed Charlie for one last hug before sneaking out the bathroom separately. You had disapparating into the girl’s bedroom to put some things away when you spotted the hickey on your neck. You audibly groaned, readying yourself to playfully punch Charlie on the arm when you next saw him – yet, it was nothing a glamour charm couldn’t hide. Over the years you had become quite skilful at this charm, the thing was you sort of liked the thrill that came with being with Charlie without his family knowing.

It meant three things: one, that it was private and yours – his family couldn’t meddle, two, the sex was fantastic when you had to slip it in wherever you could and three, he could come home for a few days and not have to see his family which meant your whole house smelt of him.

You slipped downstairs, intending on getting a mug of Molly’s famous hot chocolate with the bit of baileys in it served only at Christmas. It was the highlight of your day – what got you through the shift.

           When you appeared downstairs, everyone cozied up by the fire there was an empty seat next to Bill and Fleur, a full and steaming mug of hot chocolate waiting for you. When you sat down, Bill dove in for a hug.

“how’s my favourite short arse?” he called, watching as you brunt your tongue on the hot chocolate.

“I’m great” you sighed contently. He smiled, “any news?” you asked him, he shook his head.

“nothing exciting. I spoke to you last week.” He joked, “I think I’ve got a new case in Chad in the new year. Gotta do a risk assessment and see if it’s worth relocating for three months or handing it over to another curse breaker.” He replied, “someone with less to lose” you nodded.

“I got my final date” you offered, he looked intrigued, “end of February. don’t know where I’m getting off to though” you added, smirking to yourself a little.

“anywhere you thinking?” Charlie asked, butting into the conversation.

“France?” Fleur joked, “you would ‘ate it there” she laughed.

“I was thinking Romania, Charlie needs someone to annoy him 24/7 and I would have complete access” you teased, Charlie scoffed. Bill and Fleur just smiled, looking at each other knowingly.

“oh, come on y/n, how long you keeping this gig up?” Bill laughed, but said it softly enough to avoid other listening ears, “you can’t act like there’s nothing going on here”

“why?” You asked, knowing full well why not.

“why?” Bill cackled, “because when I visited you randomly three months, I walked in on you shagging my brother on your couch” he whispered, “I saw way too much, the idle gossip would’ve been enough.”

You blushed a little, Bill had indeed walked in on you and Charlie. It was hours after Charlie had arrived in the country; he hadn’t told his family of his return, specifically wanting to spend the long weekend he had off with you.

You were originally just catching up with a couple mugs of tea but as things did, one thing lead to another and Charlie was balls deep in between your legs barely dressed when his brother walked in saying,

“wotcher y/n/n, was in the area thought I’d stop in!” Bill had seen what was happening and it only took him a fraction of a second to work out what was happening. Of course, the hair indicated it was one of his brother’s, but it was the huge scarring and dragon tattoo that told him it was the sibling that was supposed to be halfway across the world.

You both scrambled apart, not getting the satisfaction you so craved. Charlie pulled a pair of jogging bottoms on; you pulled a pair of knickers on and his t-shirt down. He sat beside you on the couch, his hand rested on your bare thigh.

“I honestly have no words” Bill laughed as he sat on the arm of the armchair in your flat. “how long has this been going on?” he asked, clearly amused by the whole ordeal. You shrugged, working it out in your head, but Charlie answered first:

“16 months” he called; it had warmed your heart that he knew.

“so, what is it? You dating or just hooking up?” Bill asked, amused at your mortified look.

“dating” you replied, your voice small. “fucking hell Bill. I’m kind of glad it was you and not anyone else in your family” you laughed, as if you didn’t laugh, you’d be in despair.

“who else would it be?” Charlie asked amused, unaware of the drop in visits his family often made.

“your mother.” You called; his face paled at the thought. He could imagine the lecture; he could imagine the hurt.

“don’t worry, I’m not gonna tell anyone. Fleur will find out though, she always does.” Bill mused, “but this, this is brilliant. Just don’t tell mum until you’re ready for the marriage conversation.” He joked, smiling.

“you staying long?” Charlie asked, taking a sip from his cold tea, “make you a cuppa if you want” he added.

“I was gonna stay for lunch, but you guys seemed busy” he laughed, “I can’t believe I’ve just seen it. Oh merlin, my eyes.” He whined, but still laughing. Bill stood up to leave your flat, this time with Charlie following behind to lock your door, although Bill would not be coming back.

“we’ll pop round later?” Charlie asked, Bill nodded, “we’ll send a Patronus we don’t want this to happen again” he joked, his brother hugged him briefly, before patting him on the back.

“it’ll be sweeter if you wrap your peter” he sang, “don’t want any grandkids do we” he teased before disappearing, Charlie scoffed before getting back to what was interrupted.

-

Once you had been greeted by everyone, most made their way up the wooden hill. Bill and Fleur had helped to convert the attic, so they had somewhere to sleep without Charlie being present. You hugged Molly and bid her a goodnight, promising to catch up properly tomorrow while helping her with the dinner. After last year, Hermione was not allowed in the kitchen. You watched as Charlie and Bill walked up the stairs, Charlie sending an obvious wink your way. George watched from his door across the hall and grinned. The dynamic you and Charlie held almost created as much chaos as Fred did just by breathing. It wasn’t truly Christmas until you and his strange older brother flirted senseless.

You disappear behind the door, the two significantly younger women lay in their beds, idly chatting about their boyfriends. It amused you had petty their chatter could be.

“so, y/n, anyone new on the scene”

“nothing new, still the same old thing” you comment, avoiding their question. “I’ve started meditating so if you don’t see me when you wake up, that’s where I’ll be” you bluffed, but they seemed to buy it. That was an advantage of being so much older; the younglings didn’t suspect a thing, all except George and that is only because last Christmas he had spotted the mud on Charlie’s knees and made one off hand joke that stuck with you. You tuck yourself into bed, waiting for the shallow breathing from the women before sneaking out. You tiptoed quietly, having learnt which planks not to stand on over years of experience, you crept upstairs – past Percy’s room, before opened the door to Charlie’s room which was left ajar.

“was starting to think you weren’t coming” he whined, you scoffed taking off your layers and climbing into bed with him – quickly settling under the covers.

“they kept gossiping about Harry and Ron” you started,

“please don’t tell me about my brother and sister sex life. They’re still babies to me” he whined, nuzzling his face into your hair. The single bed you lay in wasn’t ideal but with you being so small in comparison to Charlie ‘lanky fuck’ Weasley it worked well enough.

“I didn’t listen in long enough, pretended to sleep so they couldn’t interrogate me.” You sighed; you had watched the golden trio grow up.

*

The following morning Charlie woke you by accident, you knew he would. It was 6 am, he was on Romanian time, so he was wide awake. but him waking you by pressing soft kisses on your neck and collar bone wasn’t something to get you complaining.

“mornin’ love” he called when he felt you stir beneath him. You lay like that for another ten minutes; he rested his head on your chest listening to your slow heartbeat. “Merry Christmas” he added, whispering to make sure you weren’t heard.

You climbed out of his bed, putting a jumper back on. “we’ll continue this tonight” you told him leaving the room before anyone else awoke. You hopped downstairs knowing Molly would be down soon to begin the food preparations.

You were mixing the ingredients for home-made stuffing when a pair of familiar arms wrap themselves around your torso, a warm face against your neck. They squeezed you when you moved on to make a cup of tea. This was a usual routine in the mornings you spent with Charlie. He sprung away from you settling in a chair by the table when he heard the creaking of the stairs.

It was Molly, who was yet to come around and realise the two bodies in the kitchen, when she did, she sat with the cup of tea you had just poured for her. She was talking with Charlie as you filled the sink with warm water to peel the potatoes; you tried to grab the paper bag of potatoes off the ground, but you couldn’t seem to get a good grip and continued to drop it.

You hadn’t noticed Charlie come over to help you, until his hand grazed behind you to move you and do the heavy lifting for you.

“didn’t realise I was getting a gun show this morning char- “you comment, your usual flirting wasn’t acknowledged by Molly.

“I usually charge for private shows, but for you – they’re free” he said and winked.

“if you wanted me in your bed Charlie all you had to do was ask” you retort, his cheeks red after his bark of laughter.

“what you doing tonight, say, 2 am?” he snorts, knowing his mother is listening.

“I’ll be waiting for my secret lover in the garden” you tease, “he’s tall, ginger, athletic and dashing”

“sounds a lot like me” he flirts, grinning.

“shame I’m meeting Bill. He knows how to treat a woman” you joke back, biting your lip wondering what he’s gonna say.

“that why you’re wearing my jumper” he snorts, you look down to see that you had indeed picked up the wrong jumper when you dressed in the dark.

“I can take it off if you preferred?” you ask, pausing for a second or two, “might need a little help with that, any takers?” you asked. He was searching for something to say but instead came closer, peering at his mother who had tuned the two of you out and busied herself with meaningful tasks.

“you need to stop” he whined, his tone barely above a whisper. “between the flirting and you dressed like that— “he comments, blushing blood red.

“and miss you blush? Not a chance.” You push against his bare chest, “see you round boy wonder” he frowns, before disapparating upstairs.

-

The festivities fill the day, between gift giving when everyone made it downstairs and fire whiskey in the evening it was a success. As per usual, the Weasley clan congregated around the open fireplace, eating mince pies to sober up slightly.

You sat and watched the room, there was always something going on. right now, for instance, Hermione was in the process of hitting Ron. You didn’t know why.

“Ronald! If you do that again I will—”

“you’ll what ‘mione?” Called Ginny, loving to tease the couple.

“Ron I’d pack it in if you want her to jingle your bells” you comment before Hermione could reply. Her face went red not expecting that comment from you of all people. Ron and Hermione were new to sneaking about; somehow Harry and Ginny had the art down but the other two had not – and when they snuck off someone always walked in or asked them if they had a good time.

Hermione had a smart mouth – something she had learnt from spending too much time with Ginny, yet she didn’t have a smooth comeback, just a flustered look on her face. This made everyone roar with laughter.

“this is why I love it when you and Charlie come home” George laughs, “you know you can come alone you don’t just have to come with Charlie”

“if I don’t come with Charlie who am I going to flirt with? I tried Percy last year and he fainted” you chuckled. You turned to Charlie and asked, “I’m getting a candy cane from the kitchen, you want one?” he shook his head.

When you returned from the kitchen you ran into Charlie who had been changing the vinyl on the gramophone. The whole house cheered from their seats, initially you were puzzled. You laughed when you realised you had been caught under the mistletoe. You didn’t object but rolled your eyes. You had been caught a few times with a few of Molly’s boys: the first time was with Bill and he kissed your forehead, the second with George who kissed your cheek and now with Charlie.

“come ‘ere then” he muttered and pulled you close to him, giving you a chaste kiss. The fire whiskey flavour lingering on his lips. You pulled away and laughed, you and Charlie returned to your seats with no change in your behaviour. George looked at you from across the room holding an unsure look.

You demolished your candy cane when a few people decided to turn in; Charlie went first, a usual routine, then Percy, then George who was sick of being a singleton in the room, then the youngsters. Bill, Fleur, Molly, Arthur and you remained. You began to put away the dishes that had been left to air dry so no one would have to do them in the morning. You had sent everyone else up, promising to blow out the candles when you headed up yourself.

On the way up you successfully got to the third floor; Molly and Arthur’s room on one side of the hall and Charlie’s on the other. You walked into the hallway between the two when Molly caught you.

“y/n dear, are you alright?” she asked, on her way to the bathroom.

“yeah, just heading to the balcony for some air before bed” you replied, hoping she’d leave you to it.

“nonsense dear, you’ll catch a cold dressed like that.” She cooed, making it a mission of hers to escort you back to your shared room. You told her you didn’t need her to assist you, being 27 and all, but she dismissed you. Once she was sure you were settled in bed with an open window, she closed the door and turned off the light in the hallway.

You could hear her footsteps for another half an hour at least knowing that there was no chance of sneaking up tonight. You had fallen asleep in wake of waiting for her to sleep but that chance never came in your consciousness.

You had only realised the lack of sneaking around the following morning when you awoke at the crack of dawn. On your bed however was an old black hoodie, it was singed around the cuffed sleeves and when you brought it to your nose it smelt it you realised that it was Charlie’s. he must have snuck in when you didn’t come, leaving it behind when he saw you sleeping. His cologne was all over it, not too much that it smelt like a tart’s handbag, but enough for you to notice. It was the complete contrast to his usual honeysuckle and grass smell, the exact opposite to his natural aroma. You slipped it on in replacement of his Weasley jumper and pulled on a pair pyjama trousers with obnoxious reindeers on them with matching red fluffy socks.

It was an acceptable time to head downstairs for your last full day you were staying here. You had a shift in four days so wanted to be back in your usual routine before you went back to work. Charlie planned on staying with you for a few days before having to return to his duties in Romania.

You pop the kettle on and turn the radio on to a low volume, it is some wizard Christmas song you’re not familiar with being the muggle born that you are. You hum along when the familiar arms wrap around you – of course it was the usual suspect.

“what’s up hot-stuff” you chime, in case anyone else is also awake and about – keeping up appearances and that.

“I missed you last night” he hummed as he kissed your neck gently.

“you’re just horny” you retorted.

“well y/n, you know what my two favourite things are” he toys.

“dragons and sex, the ordering varies” you replies, having heard the remark previously. You finish making two teas and turn around to face the man clinging to your body. In one swift motion he picks you up and puts you on the kitchen counter.

“sexy trousers” he comments, smirking at the attire. “could help you take them off?”

“sexy bedhead. could help you learn what a hairbrush is?” you bicker, smirking back at him. He leans in and kisses you; it was needy and hot. He stands between your legs, his hands making their way underneath the hoodie where your naked flesh sat- his thumbs rubbed against the bra you had on. your hands were a cliché, knotting in his long-tangled locks. His body pressed against yours, no room for the holy spirit, yet somehow wrapping your legs around his waist brought you even closer.

“turns out I really fucking missed you” he comments as you take a breather. You roll your eyes as you pounce for him, he grabs you with ease lifting you up properly.

“why is your room so far away” you comment, not expecting a reply. But when he disapparating you both there in an instant any sign of doubt or fear of getting caught went from your mind.

“we should tell your family” you sigh as he works on getting your bra and hoodie off.

“you wanna talk about this now?” he asks, his hands playing with your breasts. You nod, apparently you did. “we tell them when we go downstairs” he huffs, taking off his own layers and pulling off your seasonal trousers.

Two knocks sounded at the door.

“Charlie?” it was Bill.

“go away” he called, continuing his actions and your body wasn’t complaining.

“are you guys---” He began but you couldn’t focus on that, Charlie pushes in, more voices erupt outside.

“yes” Charlie shouts back. The door handle wriggles in the same moment. You exhaled shakily, both from the internal feeling but also from relief that the door was locked.

“mum he’s busy leave him alone” Bill called, there was no stopping Molly on a warpath. Charlie had knocked a lamp from the table when moving his arm so he could cover your mouth.

“what’s he doing in there? Charlie!” his mother shouted, but Charlie didn’t stop. He couldn’t and you certainly didn’t want him to. Charlie ignored his mother’s persistent calls until the last time she raised her voice.

“Charles Weasley? What on earth are you doing in there?” then a little silence before Charlie spoke.

“my fiancée” he yelled, his hand firmly over your mouth as he kissed your torso everywhere, he could reach.

“your what!” Molly called, the door unlocking with Molly’s use of alohomora. She was yet to open the door.

“mum don’t come in!” he shouts, this time with a sense of urgency, “I’m having a wank” he tries. But you give the game away with your laughter. Charlie’s use of wandless magic locked the door again as you both came to the end of your tether. “what’s so funny about me having a wank?” he asks, lying on top of you to catch his breath. He pulls out when he settles over you. You don’t answer him just lean up and kiss him.

“Charlie!” she shouts through the door, “unlock this door, right now”

“can’t” he exclaimed, messing with his mother. You scramble out of bed together redressing. You disapparating downstairs almost crashing into George as you land.

“moooorning” he calls, his tone implying he knows something you don’t think he does.

“hi George!” you called cheerily, picking up your now tepid mug of tea.

“anything wrong with the stairs?” he asked amused by the sudden use of apparition.

“no, this was more efficient” you inform him.

“I think, you don’t want to be in the middle of the ruckus upstairs.” You cough at his inference, “I think that my dearest mother almost walked in on you and my brother at it like rabbits and you had to escape.”

“how—”

“you’re subtle, but I’m brilliant at spotting things in the background. It’s a talent” he jokes, smiling at the end. “thought something was up last Christmas, and I was right” he chuckles after. No teasing came, no snide comment.

“is that why you’re leaving mungo’s?” he asked, you nodded.

“we’re engaged” you inform George, he is the only one around and it’s a hushed conversation.

“that’s brilliant” he huffed, engulfing you instantly. “no ring?” you shake your head.

“didn’t need one” you state, drinking more cold tea. “we’ll get wedding rings. We’re eloping though” you continued. George nodded, understanding simply.

“does this mean I can’t flirt with you anymore?” he asked hesitantly. You snorted, barking with laughter. Bill walks in with confusion on his face.

“George, if you ever stop flirting with me Charlie will lose his touch” you joke, “and I like to keep him on his toes”. Bill puts two and two together. He hugs you, kissing your forehead.

“congratulations y/n. not the way I would’ve announced I was getting married, but you know Charlie---” he confesses, you chuckle in his grasp.

“well that wasn’t how I wanted to do it either, but we were—” you caught yourself, “I’m not gonna finish that sentence”

Charlie walks down the stairs behind a red-in-the-face Molly Weasley dragging him by his arm. She looks pissed off, and you feel the tension build in your shoulders. George being the closest to you nudges you and smiles, letting you know that it would be okay. You smiled weakly at him.

Charlie is dragged in the garden and you can hear the distorted shouting between himself or his mother. It brought up a feeling inside your body you didn’t understand but you felt like you wanted to cry. You didn’t like angry shouting; it always kind of scared you, you swore to never surround yourself with it, yet your actions had caused it.

What happened next confused you, it was Percy and Fleur coming in, seeing you look a little like a dear in headlights. Fleur took your hands while Percy just walked by your side as Fleur led you to a secret spot.

“Bill used to bring me ‘ere when it got too much” Fleur admitted, you took in your surroundings, it was a quiet and slightly maintained balcony just outside the newly converted attic bedroom. Fleur sat to one of your sides, Percy the other.

“I figured that you and Charlie, were well – you and Charlie” Percy stated softly, “and I understand the distaste to her shouting. I could never stand it either.” You took his hand squeezing it.

“and you know how it was when Bill first brought me home. they all thought he was gonna marry you” Fleur added, “but I knew, he was like your older brother. You love each other but not zee way Molly desired” you sniffed.

“we kept things quiet because we didn’t want to have a big deal made. Charlie never dated someone seriously ‘til me, and I never talked about dating people because I didn’t really have the time until I met Charlie.” You complained, “when me and Charlie got together, neither of us wanted to get married. Originally it was a very casual thing but then we realised we worked together so well. we realised that if we survived the war, we would need each other”

You brought your knees up to your chin, “Charlie knows – I think. I was always scared about telling his mum. Scared she would react this way. You are the closest thing I have to a family and I can’t lose you.”

“y/n. you would be stupid if you thought that Charlie would drop you like that because his mother asked him to.” Fleur offered; you took a little solace in it. “we became great friends because we like to get away when Molly goes red. It scared me a little at first”

“this is your spot?” you asked, you felt small. They both smiled and nodded.

“Fleur has been teaching me French for three years.” Percy admitted, “it’s what we do when one of us needs some space” you nodded, not relaxing at all. “the only thing that matters is that you and Charlie love each other.” He adds after a few minutes of silence. The shouting below is no longer audible, but you can’t face going down just yet – your kind of just want to go home. You want to sit on the couch with Charlie and your best friend, b/f/n, and laugh over a bottle of red. You don’t bother sharing that with Percy and Fleur; it’s not necessary. You haven’t liked shouting all your life.

The day sets into the midday sun, you hadn’t said much more yet listened to Fleur try and teach Percy some new French. Bill brings up some snacks and a book for you to read if you want it.

“you wanna see him?” Bill asked while the other two were in conversation, he beckoned you to stand and talk with him. You didn’t respond straight away.

“was it bad?” you asked, regretting it as soon as you asked. Bill only nodded; his expression was solemn. You put your head in your hands, your mind whirring and heart going ten to the dozen. Bill pulled you in for one of those big brother hugs.

“I know you don’t like shouting and I promise he’s not gonna shout. If he does, I’ll get Ginny to bogey bat hex him.” Bill ushered you indoors to talk properly. You smile a little at him, but the dread still in your eyes. “she’s hurt. But she doesn’t realise she can be overbearing sometimes, that’s why Charlie had to get away to Romania or she would’ve forced him into some office job.” You nodded, knowing this.

“is he mad at me?” you ask, your eyes not lifting from the floor, bill rumbled with laughter, it was quiet as he knew that shouting overwhelmed you and he didn’t want to overwhelm your senses. You took his laughter as your answer.

“he could never be mad at you. you make him kinder”

-

After a little while of Bill just sitting with you so you could work up the courage to deal with Charlie and by further extension Molly, you gingerly turned the bronze doorknob seeing Charlie sat on the ground outside the door. He looked exhausted, his cheeks red as if he had been crying. When he saw you, he rushed to his feet, almost losing his balance in the process.

“I’m sorry” he said at the same time as you. “why are you saying sorry?” he queried, you shrugged you just felt like you should say it. “y/n/n this is all my fault. I should have told her before you came. I should’ve been more careful and most importantly I shouldn’t have shouted. I know you don’t like it and I’m sorry.”

“Char- “you called, taking his hand in your own, “are we breaking up?” you ask, he looks flabbergasted. In fact, he’s so in shock that he laughs.

“hey, you got me to propose. I’m never letting you go.” He jokes cuddling you, stroking your hair – something he knew comforted you when you were anxious. He took your hand and brought you to his room. You sat on the bed, cross-legged and faced each other. “let’s talk, love” you nodded, mustering the courage to ask what you really wanted to know.

“what did she say?”

“she said lots of things, she’s angry and upset we didn’t tell her. Which I understand but I told her we’re engaged and that we’re eloping. That our relationship is nothing to do with her, that she can like it, or she will have to pretend she does.”

“oh” you smiled, “I didn’t know whether you’d still wanna get married”

“there’s not a moment I don’t wish I had asked you sooner, god I feel like I’ve loved you my entire life.” You grin at his confession. These tender moments are the only times you saw Charlie this gentle. He was soft and quiet, he pondered on his thoughts before he said them. It was a side only you got to see, and you felt honoured.

You must have fallen asleep as when you woke a few hours later, Charlie had transfigured Bill’s bed into an armchair and pouffe and was reading his over-worn dragon encyclopaedia. You felt mentally exhausted, ready to just go home and return to normality.

When you felt able you got dressed, still wearing Charlie’s singed hoodie of course, and walked downstairs to the kitchen hand in hand with Charlie. Today had been a rollercoaster and you had decided that if Molly chose to shout at you again that you would grab your things and disapperate to your flat. Your grip in this thought had tightened on Charlie’s hand who had decided to stroke small circles with his thumb to soothe you.

When you enter the room, you’re beamed at from every angle. Ginny and Harry pat, you on the shoulder; Hermione smiles graciously, the others smile as they did when you told them but when you got to Molly and Arthur their reactions were different to everyone else’s. Arthur hugged you both, no words were exchanged but the gesture translated into a thousand words.

You dreaded turning to Molly, she offered a tight-lipped smile.

“I was disappointed you didn’t marry my Bill, but then I decided that having you as another daughter was something, I shouldn’t take for granted. I can’t say I like the way you went about hiding the relationship for so long from us, and I can’t say I understand why. I don’t like that you’re eloping nor do I like that you have snuck into his bed every night and had sex under my roof—”

“mum. We are 27 and 28 years old, the worst thing that happens is an unplanned pregnancy but we’re old enough to cope with it. Leave it out” Charlie replied, his chest puffed out, “if you’re gonna lecture us we’re gonna leave.” He told her; his voice was stern.

“but most importantly, despite those things, I am happy you found each other.” She finished after being told off by her son. “anyone for a cup of tea?” she asked, deflecting the tension.

You and Charlie curled up together by the fire, his arm wrapped around you.

“I fucking love you” you confessed, reaching up to kiss him. He meets you in the middle, innocently kissing you for a few moments.

“if you shag right in front of me, I’m gonna have to throw a molly-Weasley-level fit” George retorts grinning.

[scarletdawnxx-blog]

Nightmares: A Bucky Barnes x Reader Story. Chapter 6

Steve loaded the last of your things into the truck you were taking. Stark wanted you to test out a new all electric option, he had decided he wanted to break into the all-electric vehicle game, he didn’t want to be shown up by Elon. Stark was all about going greener nowadays. You hadn’t seen much of Bucky since your date and your heart sank a little. Maybe the feelings weren’t as mutual as you thought. You tried to make it as unnoticeable as possible that you had been looking for him. You couldn’t really think of an excuse to linger any longer.

  “Well, I guess this is goodbye,” Steve said, putting the last bag in.

“Don’t say it like that, I’m only three hours away. You won’t get rid of me that easily.” You replied trying to lighten the mood. You would see them all again. They were your family. Nat smiled and gave you a tight hug. You had already said your goodbyes to everyone else. Tony was trying to play it cool but you could tell it was getting to him. He had treated you like you were one of his own, but you knew with the new Parker kid coming on board he would be just fine. Steve came in and gave you a big, crushing hug next. “Steve I can’t breathe,” you gasped out and he laughed. He kissed the top of your head and let you go. He was the big brother you always wanted, but it wasn’t his arms and laugh you were wishing for at that moment.

  “You let us know when you get there safely,” Steve said in a serious voice. You nodded and looked around the garage one last time. You opened the door to the truck and started to get in. He didn’t come to say goodbye. Your eyes met Steve’s and he gave you a sad smile. He knew who you had been looking for. Letting out a breath you climbed in and pulled away watching Steve and Nat get smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.

  After the drive, you finally pulled up to the address you were given and it wasn’t what you were expecting. It was as if someone had dropped a very large English countryside manor in the middle of upstate New York. You made your way up to the front and were met at the door by Jean, you would know her in an instant, her hair was unforgettable.

  “Hello again Y/N” she greeted you with a smile. “The professor is waiting for you in his study.” She said and ushered you inside. The school was beautiful. Warm and inviting, with so much charm and character. You could tell there was a lot of love and happiness in these halls.

  Jean led you to a large office just off the main stairs. The professor was sitting behind his desk looking over papers. He looked up and smiled at the two of you and you cocked your head a little, catching your first glimpse at the Professor's feelings. Relief. It surprised you since even when you had tried to use them on him you were met with nothing. Completely locked out.

  “Y/N, it is so good to see you again. I hope the drive was pleasant,” he said and wheeled himself from behind the desk.

  “Yes, it was peaceful, you have a beautiful home here,” you replied, trying to make polite conversation.

  “Thank you, this has been in my family for generations. Shall I give you the tour?” he asked and ushered you back into the hall. You nodded and followed. “The first floor is offices and classrooms. You’ll find the kitchen at the far back, dormitories are the second and third upper levels as well as common areas. There is a pool, sports courts, and gymnasium around the grounds as well.” The professor went on as you followed him down the halls, he would point out the occasional tidbit here and there. You followed along and listened as he explained the classes offered. It really was a school for gifted kids and not just for their abilities but intelligence as well. You stopped suddenly when an overwhelming sense of grief hit you. You looked around and saw a young girl sitting in a window seat, staring out into the yard she couldn’t be more than ten or eleven. The professor noticed.

“Ah, that’s Rose. She has been with us for about six months now. She hasn’t spoken since coming here.” He explained and you looked from him back to her. What had happened that made her feel that kind of pain.

  “What happened to her?” You asked quietly.

  “Her powers manifested violently. It left her an orphan. She blames herself. I haven’t been able to reach her.” He said sadly. The poor girl. You approached her gently.

  “Hello Rose, my name is Y/N, can I sit with you?” You asked her and she nodded. You sat across from her and looked out the window as well. You looked back to Rose and focused. Her grief and self-loathing were overwhelming, you wanted to cry and scream out from everything she was feeling. How could she stay so silent with all that inside of her? “It wasn’t your fault.” You whispered to her and she looked at you shocked. “I can help if you want.” You offered up to her with a small smile and gave her a small glimpse of what your power could do, letting it just sweep gently over the grief like a balm. You caught a glimpse of the memory that these feelings were attached to. The utter destruction. Not even knowing what she could do she was powerful. “You didn’t know, couldn’t have known, what was happening. I know you miss them and blame yourself, but it wasn’t you.” You told her, taking her hand in yours. You had said something similar to Bucky and your heart grew sadder. “Don’t let this consume you,” you pleaded with her. Her anger was bubbling to the surface. She believed she needed to be punished. That she deserved to live in her own hell forever and that trying to take that away from her would take away her identity.  You wanted to show her a different way. “You know I have a friend who was a lot like you. He was forced to do terrible things, kill people. He didn’t have a choice but he still felt the guilt of everything that he was forced to do. It was eating him alive. He would have terrible nightmares, do you have nightmares?” You asked her and she only gave you a slight nod. “I could help with that. I could make them stop. Make all of it stop. You will always miss them, but it doesn’t have to hurt.” You told her hoping to get through. She began to cry and you scooted and held her close as she cried and cried. You held her and let her cry, you could feel her heart breaking over and over again as the cries echoed through the empty halls. When she had settled back down you pushed the hair from her face and wiped her tears away. “Would you like me to help?” you asked her again and she nodded. You smiled at her and just as quickly those feelings were gone. The grief, the blame, the pain. You took it all from her. She blinked at you and threw her arms around you in a hug. You smiled and hugged her back.

  “Thank you,” she whispered in your ear.

  “Of course, dear one.” You held her until she let go. “Why don’t you go rinse your face with some cool water. It will make you feel better and get a little rest. I’m going to go talk with the professor and get settled in. Find me later and we can go for a walk?” you asked and she nodded and bounded off.

  “You don’t know what you have done for that girl.” The Professor said.

  “Why have you never tried to use your abilities on her?” you asked wondering why he hasn’t helped her past her grief yet.

  “I have tried reaching her through her mind, she was so lost in her grief I wanted to give her time, see if she could come out of it on her own.” He explained.

  “She is a child, did you not think to try harder, to get her into therapy?” you asked annoyed that he let a child live in that grief for six whole months. The professor didn’t have an answer for that and continued on. You huffed but fell into step beside him. He led you to an elevator that began to take you below the main level. When the doors opened you were once again surprised by what you were seeing. An entire underground complex below the manor house. Here everything was bright and high tech and reminded you of the compound.

  “These levels are restricted to the children. Only those who have been deemed X-Men are allowed on this level. We have training rooms, labs, weapons room, and a hanger for the jet.” He explained as you followed him down the hall until you came to a large round door with an X across it. The professor approached and a retinal scanner activated. The doors opened to reveal a massive round room. A large platform jutting into the center. “This is Cerebro, this is how I found you, how I find more like us.” He said and you followed him in. You were in awe of the cavernous room. Metal panels lined the entire thing and a small control panel sat at the end of the walk way that led to the center. “I know this is all new to you and a lot to take in. It has always been my wish to help those who feel lost and different. Not everyone can always be helped.”  He said sadly and you knew there was more there to dive into but now wasn’t the time. “I hope that you can find the answers you are looking for here, and perhaps help us, as you helped Rose.” You followed him back out of the room and he led you to a lab where you were greeted with a very large blue, something. “This is Doctor Hank McCoy.” The professor introduced and he extended his hand which engulfed your own.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He responded and you smiled and nodded.

“You as well. What are you a doctor of?” you asked, looking around the lab. The doctor was full of curiosity and it made you feel a little like a lab rat.

  “Biochemistry and genetics, I also teach science and mathematics.” He explained. So, he was a super genius. Were all mutants this highly intelligent? You nodded and wrapped your arms around yourself, a habit that made you feel a little more protected from the outside world. “If you wouldn’t mind, I would like to run some tests on you, when you are ready of course.” Hank continued.

“What kind of tests and why do you need to run them?” you asked, trying not to sound fearful.

  “To get a grasp on the extent of your mutation to better help you and us to understand it and to learn how to harness it.” Hank said with a reassuring smile.

  “Hank has been invaluable in unlocking the secrets to mutation and helping all of us understand ourselves better. It doesn’t have to be right away. Get settled in, take some time, and Hank will be here when you are ready.” The Professor offered.

  “It has already been a long morning. If I could settle in a little, I would love to have a conversation with you Dr. McCoy, this is all just very new and a little overwhelming if I’m honest.” You offered up. It had been a long morning already. You had been on the road by eight in the morning and that was after loading the truck and saying goodbyes.

  “Of course, I will show you to your room Y/N” The professor said and you followed him from the lab. He took you to the third floor from the main level. This was where most of the instructors and so-called X-Men had rooms. Someone had already brought all your things in and your life was just a stack of boxes and bags in an unfamiliar room and all of a sudden the change really set in and a melancholy set into your chest. The professor excused himself and you shut the door finally alone. You sat on the edge of the bed and put your head in your hands, the emotions overwhelming you. Right now, your friends and life seemed a world away and not just a few hours. You pulled your phone out and saw messages from Steve and Nat. Steve as always was encouraging and Nat sent pictures of Tony after he had an experiment literally blow up in his face and singed half an eyebrow off. You laughed sadly at the image. You missed them all so much already.

[knockknockchicagopd]

A SERIE WITH HANK VOIGHT. CHAPTER I.

❚❙ WORDS: about 1.5k

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that it makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted.

❚❙ GIF credits: to the author.

❚❙ Tag list: @melblacc @rebelwrites @skyofficialxx @sesamepancakes @scarletsoldierrr @mondefantastique @that-chick212 @enbyamaro @inlovewith3 @ocetevasgirl @sophie-writes @destynelseclipsa @jadakiss13. If you want to be added to my tag list, send me a message.

Grabbing your backpack once you have kept all you need before going to work, you go downstairs following the smell of freshly made coffee. People in the hospital aren't wrong, it's like a drug. You have never been a big fan of coffee till you started to work in the Chicago Med. Since then, you always have a cup in your hands. Checking the hour in your phone, you calculate how many minutes are left for your shift to start. This morning you have woken an hour earlier than normally and seems like you have the house for your own, after Charlotte and Elizabeth have already left for their Firehouse.

Placing your stuff close to the door, you lead your barefoot to the kitchen to have a cup and pour some black hot coffee in it. Sitting over the counter, you spend your time checking some emails from Doctor Manning, your sponsor at Emergencies; test results, consultations and information about your practices in your free time. She is helping you more than anyone in your life with your career, keeping your head focused and your ideas firm.

The doorbell rings, making you raise both eyes from the screen. You're not expecting any visit and the postman came a while ago, and for an instant you're tempted to not open the door and continue with your coffee in silence, but your curiosity ends up winning. Leaving the mug over the counter, you attend to the call. But what you find pushes you into a surprised shock. Hank Voight.

The last time you saw him was the morning before to be arrested. The long hours locked in an interview room, being interrogated about his plans and his shenanigans, come to your head in a sight. The police ‘kindly invited’ you to the District to talk about him. They offered you a deal in exchange for information about him. But you rejected it. Not because you were in love with him, but because you didn't know much more than them and, even so, you're not a whistle-blower. He helped you when everybody turned their backs on you, after being falsely accused of stealing meds from your ambulance, when you worked as a paramedic. You didn't owe him any kind of favor, he didn't ask you to hide his shit. You did it because you want.

But you haven't known anything from him during the last year, more than a couple talks you have had with Erin. He rejected all your visits in jail, never responded to your calls or your letters. Nothing. And now, he is in front of you. Serious grimace as always, looking rested, wearing that dark blue plaid shirt he was wearing on your first date. You remember to tell him how much you liked that shirt, how good he looked with it on. Traveling down your eyes, the badge on his belt next to the buckle earns all your attention. And you can't feel more confused.

Hank Voight being a cop? Again? How is it possible? Who took him out of jail? You knew that his sentence was from six to eight years. It's been just a month and he's walking free again. The pressure inside your chest, racing up your heart, prevents you from breathing with normalcy. Licking your bottom lip, you try to say something but nothing comes from your mouth.

“May I come in?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you give him enough space to walk inside before closing the door again, behind your back. You want to punch him, shoot him, stab him (...), but you also want to hug him and kiss him, and know how he has been. When you knew he was being sent to Stateville, you thought you would never see him again. It doesn't matter who he was, what he did and who he helped to, he was a cop. And cops don't survive in jail.

“I heard you jumped from the ambulance to the Chicago Med”.

Hank is taking a look at your living room with curiosity, keeping his hands inside the pocket of his black jeans, turning around to rest his waist against the back of one of the sofas there. Raising an eyebrow you can't believe he has heard things about you and that he still cares. You nod in silence as crossing your arms over your chest with your lips pressed.

“I feel proud of you”. He utters then, shrugging briefly. “I always knew you'd be a good doctor. Is in your veins”.

“What are you doing here, Hank?” Putting away the quackery by waving a hand close to your chest, you can't help but tilt your head with confusion.

“I've missed you”.

As soon as he pronounces these words, a bitter and sarcastic laugh from you fills up the place. Shaking your head and rubbing the bridge of your nose, you can't believe this incompressible situation you are in. He stands up with the clear intention of coming closer, he stops dead when you raise both hands between the two of you while taking a step back.

“One year, Hank. One damn year waiting for… anything from you. A call, a text, a letter… Anything!”

“Erin was in contact with you”.

“Should I be… thankful?”

“I didn't want you to get implied”.

“Bullshit. I was since I decided to be by your side. The cops didn't handcuff me because I was working in the fifty-one and Boden knows my family, and knows me since I'm a kid”.

“Yeah, Erin told me 'bout that”. He pulls his gaze away for a moment, rubbing his right cheek. “You covered my back”.

“And you kicked my ass”.

“I wanted to protect you”

“You didn't! You pushed me away! You abandoned me!”

Hiding your face into your hands, you can't help but feel impotence being aware that you still love him after all. You really thought that he cared about you, that all the promises he made once would become real. But then, he suddenly cut any contact with you, for the exception of Erin. Raising your reddened eyes, you watch him grabbing a cardboard fold from under his jacket, to offer it to you.

“I didn't. I put you under protection. That was part of my deal with the State Attorney. Three cops have been following you all day since I walked into Stateville”.

Stupefy and looking at him with parted lips, feeling your lungs out of air for a second, you hold the fold to open it. Pictures, monthly reports, a copy of your tests for the EMT (...).

“Listen now, I was trying to survive. I was trying to have a plan before talking with you, but it took me more than I thought it could. I blinked and I was out of jail again. I'm leading the Intelligence Unit in the twenty-one now, and you're the first person I've seen besides my unit”. Carefully, Hank takes a step closer to you, slowly, hoping you don't take another back. “You've been the reason why I've been fighting all this time and I ain't pretending to come and change your life for a sudden. Only, to make sure you're good”.

“I wasn't. And I'm not”.

Slamming the fold against his chest, you try to walk away from him, but he stops you. He has that look in his eyes that tells you he's not going to leave you again. As his fingers get closed around your forearm, you try to contain the tears. His hand caresses your skin so softly that gives you chills, bristling it, till lacing his fingers with yours. Your heart jumps, just like it did the first time he held your hand that cold night of October two years ago, after insisting on driving you home.

“I've to come back to the Unit”. Hank whispers bending his head towards yours. “I can pick you up tonight. Have dinner. Talk. I will answer any question you have, I promise”.

He lands his other hand on the back of your neck, pressing his rough lips on your forehead, feeling his thumb stroking the back of your hand so tenderly that the only thing you want is to run away with him far from Chicago, far from Illinois and, why not? Far from the United States.

“One thing I want to make very clear, sweetheart. I never stopped loving you... Tell me you know it”.

“I do”. You sniff nodding, not being capable of looking up at him.

“If you don't want to see me again, but you need my help one day, don't hesitate”.

As soon as Hank abandons your house, your heart collapses, breaking into a bittersweet crying not knowing what to do. Not knowing to whom you can talk about it. Not knowing how to confront the mix of feelings and sensations dancing inside your chest, barely breathing as the whinings become louder. Holding the fold closer to your torso, you drag your feet over the parquet back to the kitchen trying to find a solution to all this mess.

[justahopelessssromantic]

A/N: Thank you all so much for all the love on this story! It really means so very much to me! I’m so excited to share more with you ❤️ Here’s part 2! I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think ☺️

Angel never really knew about Monica growing up. Sure they grew up in the same town but with the five year difference between them he never really knew who she was, that was until he began prospecting for the Mayans MC.

The first time he saw her he couldn't take his eyes off her. She was beautiful and he swore his heart skipped a beat when she looked his way and smiled but maybe that was just his inner hopeless romantic talking.

He wanted to ask her out, hell all the prospects did and Taza knew that. It was like he could read their minds or maybe it was just because this wasn't the first group of prospects who had their eyes on the Mayan's princess.

Stepping up behind them he clapped Angel and Gilly on the shoulders holding them tight. "Beautiful isn't she?" He never gave them a chance to answer. "I know what you're thinking, don't. She's off limits boys. Now get back to work." He finished with giving them a shove in the direction of the line of the bikes to be washed.

Angel wasn't stupid. He knew to listen to the older Mayan. If he wanted any chance of becoming a full patched member then he had to focus on the club and try to keep his mind off her, but damn was that hard.

It became a little easier once Derek entered the picture. Monica fell hard and fast for him, Angel could see why, he was a great guy. He treated her well and respected the club. He was good to her and that’s all he really cared about. Then seemingly out of nowhere they had broken up. Monica never spoke about what happened between them but Angel could tell whatever it was wasn't good.

It was only about a little over a year after that that Monica got pregnant. She never told anyone who the father was no matter how much they asked. All she told them was that it didn't matter, she was determined to raise her on her own.

She had the club to help support her, that was enough.

After a while everyone just stopped asking. It didn’t really matter in the end anyways. Soon it wasn’t even a thought. Maddie had her mother, grandfather, and she had all her tios within the club. Maybe she didn’t have a conventional family but she did have a family who loved her and would lay their life down for her.

That’s all anyone really needs.

Angel just finished his shift at the scrapyard for the day. He traded his work shirt for his kutte on his way to the clubhouse. He got to the door just before Monica and Maddie as they just arrived. Holding the door open for them he entered behind them.

“Thank you Angel!” Maddie smiled back at him before running off towards Hank, Bishop, and Taza sitting in the back of the room.

Angel smiled watching Maddie run off. He glanced over to find Monica doing the same thing. God, was her smile breathtaking. He then glanced down to the purple backpack in Monica’s hands. He nodded down to it once she turned her attention to him. “Maddie staying with Hank tonight?”

“Yeah she is, It’s just easier for party planning.” She explained. And she had her blind date tonight but she didn’t want everyone to know that. Monica placed the bag down onto the table besides them making sure Hank saw where she placed it. “I’d love to stay and hang out but I really better get going. I told Vicky I was going to stop by before heading home to check out the cake.”

Gilly was listening in to the conversation from where he was behind the bar. “You’re leaving already? Can’t you at least stay for one drink?” He pulled out a beer waving it at her. He could usually convince her to stay for one.

“No, unfortunately I can’t. Next time I will.” She promised. Gilly pouted making a show of it as he cracked open the beer for himself. Monica rolled her eyes laughing before reaching for the door knob which Angel had already had being one step ahead of her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Maddie.” She called out to Maddie who was now playing cards with Riz. “You be good for grandpa and make sure you keep these guys out of trouble.”

“Okay!” Maddie called back with a grin. “Love you!”

“Love you too!” She called back blowing her a kiss which Maddie dramatically caught.

Angel opened the door for Monica seeing her out. He followed her to the steps where he stopped to light up a cigarette He watched her walk away just as Coco pulled back into the yard. Coco gave her a nod and she gave him a wave as they crossed paths.

Coco parked his bike and slipped his helmet off shaking out his hair with his hands a little after doing so. He met Angel on the top of the steps who had a cigarette extended towards him.

“Everything good?” Angel asked him. He watched Coco light up his cigarette and take a drag before he answered.

“Yeah, everything’s good.” Coco replied plainly. He just got back from the other side with the rebels.

“Good.” Angel nodded, taking another drag of his own cigarette.

The two leaned against the railing looking out around their home. They both knew getting involved with the rebels was risky but it was a risk they would have to take for their club, their family.

****

Monica watched Vicky leaning against the counter as she smoothed the white icing around the cake. Vicky was making a special unicorn cake with blues, pinks, and purple colors for Maddie’s birthday. One thing many people didn’t know about her was she was an excellent cake decorator and made the very best cakes in town. She was also just an excellent baker in general.

Monica smiled watching her in awe. “That looks amazing Vicky. Maddie is going to love it.”

“She better.” Vicky teased. She finished smoothing it out before stepping back to admire her own work.

Next to the cake was a tray of vanilla cupcakes, some with purple icing and some with pink icing. Reaching over Monica grabbed for one of the purple ones earning a swat to her hand.

“Don’t even think about it. Those are for the party and you know better.” Vicky scolded her. Sometimes she still saw that little girl from all those years ago.

Monica pouted. “Can’t I just have one? Please.” She begged, folding her hands together.

Vicky rolled her eyes. “Some things really never change.” She mumbled under her breath. Taking the cupcake Monica was after she handed it to her. “Fine, just the one.”

Monica peeled the wrapper away. “That’s all I wanted.” She happily took a bite giving a moan of approval as she sat back. “This is delicious.”

“I know.” Vicky smirked.

Monica sat enjoying her cupcake as her mind began to wonder. The other night’s conversation with Maddie kept finding its way into her mind. She looked down at the cupcake for a few moments fiddling with the paper around it. Sighing, she looked back up at Vicky.

Vicky wiped her hands off on a wet washcloth. She sat down next to Monica placing her hand on her shoulder, she knew that look. “What’s wrong baby?”

“Maddie asked me about her father last night.” She blurted.

“Well you knew this day would come eventually. You and Coco both knew that.”

Vicky was the one and only person who Monica told about Coco being Maddie’s father. Vicky was like a mother to her, she always knew she could trust her with anything. She needed just one person to know and there wasn’t anyone else she would have rather shared with. It was only right, Vicky was the one who was there for her for everything while she was pregnant.

“Yeah, we did.” She knew that. “I was just hoping I would have a little more time I guess.”

“That’s the wonder of children.” Vicky laughed lightly, “They always keep you on your toes, making you deal with things you don’t want to or don’t think you are ready for.”

She had that right.

“Ooh cupcakes!” Lydia came in behind the two diverting their attention from the conversation to her. She grabbed a cupcake for herself grinning.

Vicky smacked her arm playfully. “You two can’t wait one day?”

Monica and Lydia made eye contact before bursting out in laughter. “Nope." They said in unison.

Lydia and Monica became fast friends when Lydia first started working for Vicky. The connection was instant between them. It was as if they had been friends forever. Vicky used to tease them for being inseparable.

“Vicky these are the best things I’ve ever tasted.” Lydia said through a mouthful.

“Thank you.” Vicky smiled leaning into Lydia’s kiss to her cheek. “You two flatter me.”

“I keep telling you you should open your own bakery. People would pay good money for these.” Monica held up her cupcake motioning to the cake beside them. She scooped some frosting on her finger.

“And I keep telling you I don’t want to kill my hobby by trying to profit from it. I love it too much to do that to it.” Vicky looked back at the beautiful cake. “Getting to bake for my family is good enough for me. I love being able to share with you all and getting to see your smiles, that’s payment enough for me.”

“Well Maddie does have the most rewarding smile. You’re sure to get that tomorrow.” Monica always thought Maddie had Coco’s smile. Every time she smiled it would take her back a minute. “It’s a shame it’s all going to be destroyed tomorrow.”

“That’s what pictures are for!” Lydia piped in after she finished her cupcake tossing the wrapper. “Thank you so much for the treat Vicky and the company ladies. I’m afraid better get going though.” Brushing her hands off she then gave Vicky a hug before Monica. “I’ll see you two tomorrow.”

“You’re not working tonight?” Monica asked before she could get far. As far as she knew Lydia had to work tonight. That’s why she couldn’t help Monica with party set up tonight.

Lydia cursed herself. Putting on a smile she quickly found an excuse. “I did but then Candace wanted to trade the nights with me. I guess she has to take her mother out of town to a specialist on Monday.” It was complete bulshit and Vicky knew that. Lydia tried to keep her eye contact on Monica and not look to Vicky. “I can still come over tonight if you want.” Lydia offered knowing she really couldn’t. She hoped Monica would pass her up on that offer.

“No, that’s okay.” Monica gave her a smile. She would much rather ditch Luke for Lydia but she wasn’t going to be that person. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good night Lydia.”

“You too.” Lydia blew a kiss in their direction before disappearing out of the kitchen.

Vicky watched Lydia through the doorway until she was completely out of sight. When she turned back to Monica Monica had her arms crossed and eyebrow raised.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on there? Because I know for a fact Candace didn’t ask Lydia to switch.” She just talked to Candace the other day. Her mother was doing fine. She would have said something but she wasn’t wanting a confrontation with her tonight.

“What do you think it’s about? It’s a man, like always with her.” Vicky tried to wave it off.

“She hasn’t said anything to me about a man.” Monica frowned. She thought she and Lydia shared everything.

“That’s because she doesn’t want you to know because she knows you wouldn’t approve.” Vicky didn’t even approve of Michael but trying to talk sense into the young vibrant girl was impossible.

Monica huffed sitting back. “Well if I wouldn’t approve then she knows she shouldn’t be wasting her time.”

“She’s in love Monica, you know what that’s like.” Vicky didn’t approve but she also knew she couldn’t police who her girls spent time with off the clock.

“In love?! Fuck, how long has she been seeing this guy?” Lydia couldn’t be in love. She would have said something to Monica. Monica would have noticed some change, she would have. “Who is this guy?”

“He’s a client. A pretty, rich boy.” Vicky had met Michael plenty of times as he came through. He started off as a regular with Sierra, then he started seeing Lydia and made it a point to only come to her. Shortly after Lydia started seeing him outside of work. It was a disaster waiting to happen in Vicky’s opinion. She tried to warn Lydia but she just didn’t want to listen. “She’s been seeing him outside of work about a couple of months now.”

Monica let out a bitter laugh. “A client? Of course he’s a client.” She huffed rolling her eyes.

“I know, trust me I know.” Vicky sighed. She grabbed Monica’s hand in hers. “Now isn’t the time to lecture her. I already tried.”

“She’s gonna get hurt and I’m gonna be the one left cleaning up the mess.” Monica muttered. It wouldn’t be the first time Monica had picked Lydia back up after a man broke her heart.

“She’s very lucky to have you.” Vicky tried to comfort her and gave her a warm smile.

Monica glanced back at the clock on the wall behind Vicky. She didn’t have time for this. “There’s nothing I can do about it now plus I really need to go or I’m going to be late.” She stood from her seat followed by Vicky.

“Late?” Vicky asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“I may have a date tonight.” Monica said quietly looking at her feet. She looked back up to Vicky who was standing there with the biggest smile on her face. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“You never have to worry about that.” Vicky grabbed Momica’s arm as they walked towards the front. “So, a date? With who?”

“Alex set me up on a blind date. If I didn’t agree I’m sure the next step for her would be to sign me up for Tinder and there is no way in hell that is happening. The last thing I want is to see all the guys from the club on there.” Monica laughed. She didn’t know if any of the guys had Tinder but it wouldn’t surprise her. “Or for them to see me on there. His name is Luke, he’s handsome.” They stopped at the door and Monica showed Vicky a picture of Luke that Alex had sent her.

“He’s not just handsome he’s hot.” Vicky smirked holding the phone so she could get a closer look. “Where are you going?”

“Just the cute little italian place downtown.” The restaurant was casual enough but also nice enough for a first date. Not too much but just right, at least that was what Alex said.

“And what are you going to wear?”

Monica chewed on her lip. She hadn’t exactly thought that far ahead. “Um, I’m not sure.”

“Wear that little black dress you picked up the last time we went shopping.” Vicky suggested. “And the gold hoops I gave you for your birthday.”

Monica smiled giving Vicky a hug. “Thank you.” She mumbled into the embrace.

Vicky held her tight a moment before pulling back holding her a little longer as she took in the beautiful young woman before her. She was proud of Monica for actually going out on the date. “Good luck, he’s not gonna know what hit him when he sees you.”

Monica’s cheeks heated up as she smiled. Her confidence about the date improved a little with Vicky. She always knew just what to say to her to make her feel more at ease in any situation. “Thank you mom.” She murmured leaving a kiss to Vicky’s cheek. She then headed for the door to head home to get ready for the night. Thankfully she was a little more prepared now.

Back at home Monica checked her reflection one more time as she slipped the gold hoop earrings in. She had curled her hair letting her dark locks lay down and loose. Her makeup was light. She opted for just the basics, a little foundation, blush, mascara, and light gloss on her lips. She looked good, not too overmade up but still enough to notice.

It was just one date she reminded herself. She had been on plenty of dates before, this was no different.

Except it was.

She hadn’t been on a real date in at least two years now. She tried to date after Maddie was born but each man left after finding out she was a single mother and that Maddie would always come first. It was frustrating but Monica had gotten used to it. At the end of the day she’d rather have them run off before she or especially Maddie could get too attached. That would only make it more painful.

She stepped back from the mirror and smoothed out the little black dress Vicky had suggested. It was flowy, light, and flattering. The material moved with her as she walked down the hall. Slipping on her black flats at the door she grabbed her purse and keys before heading out locking up behind her.

Monica sat at a back booth in the small restaurant. She ran her finger around the rim of her drink as she waited. She checked her phone and huffed. She had been there an hour now and Luke so far was a no show. She knew she should have never agreed to being set up on a blind date.

Monica sent another text to Alex. She would give him another fifteen minutes but after that she was done.

The kind young waitress stopped by her table for probably the fifth time now. “Can I get you anything else?” She asked.

Monica hated the pitying look the girl wore. She needed to get out of here.“No, thank you. I’ll just take the check please.” She said politely. She had enough. It was time to just face it, she had been stood up.

Thankfully the girl got the check to her rather quickly bringing another loaf of bread with her for Monica to take home, on the house. Monica finished off her drink then made her way straight for the exit after paying. She couldn’t wait to be home.

“Monica?”

Monica looked over to the waiting area where she heard her name come from. That’s where she found Angel. “Angel? What are you doing here?”

Angel looked over Monica in her dress and all made up. She looked beautiful. “You on a date?” He couldn’t see why else she would be all dolled up. He wouldn’t lie to himself, the thought of Monica being out with some other man made him insanely jealous. He wanted to be the man taking her out, the man she dressed up for, the man who would treat her like the queen she was.

“Yes, I was, but he never showed.” She admitted. She felt like an idiot. “Are you?” She asked eyeballing his outfit. He was still in his usual attire, kutte and all.

Angel felt a little guilty for how relieved he was to hear the fucker didn’t show. He hoped she couldn’t tell. At the same time he was pissed that anyone would leave her waiting like that. “His loss,” he gave her a smile. He watched her tuck a strand of hair behind her ear as she gave him a small smile back. He couldn’t help himself, he found his gaze lingering a little too long on her neck.

Angel cleared his throat gathering his thoughts, “Nah,” he said, licking his lips, “just picking up some food, gonna take it over to Pops and have dinner there.” He tried to play it cool.

“That sounds nice. The bread here is fantastic.” She commented. She would know, she only had about two loaves as she waited on Luke.

“You’re more than welcome to join us.” Angel offered. “We ordered plenty of food. Pops and EZ wouldn’t mind.”

“Thank you, Angel. That’s very sweet of you.” Monica knew what he was doing. She appreciated it but she didn’t want to be pitied anymore. She would much rather go home and wallow in the embarrassment there. “But I think I’d rather just go home, run a bath and listen to my favorite true crime podcast or something. I still need to prepare for the party tomorrow anyways.”

Angel nodded. He understood her not wanting to but he had to offer. “EZ and I are going to bring the play set over in the morning. We’ll help set it up before the party.” For Maddie’s birthday everyone in the club pitched in to get her a play set fully decked out with a swing set, slide, and jungle gym for their backyard.

“Sounds like a plan.” Monica gave him a smile, “Maddie is going to love it.” She then leaned in to give him a quick hug before parting. “Have a good night Angel and tell Felipe and EZ I said hi. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You too, querida.” Angel got out just before Monica exited the restaurant. He watched her all the way until she got to her vehicle before realizing the hostess at the front had his food ready and waiting for him to take home.

Tag List: @carlaangel86 @starrynite7114 @mayans-sauce @capnsaveahoe @creepingfromthecorners @scuzmunkie

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

She [8]

Warnings: non-consent sex (series); violence

This is dark! Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Series Synopsis: Steve Rogers’ life is turned upside down by a reporter.

Chapter Summary: Steve’s plan comes together.

Note: Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Steve

Everything was ready. Well, as ready as it could be after a week of work. A week interspersed with her. Every night he climbed the escape and watched her. Imagined all the things he could do once she was there. Added to his list of to do.

He walked around the basement and preened over his hard work. He couldn’t get a real bed just yet so the small futon would have to do until the press retreated. He continued around the cool space and poked his finger through the hook embedded in the ceiling. It would hold her. 

He brushed his fingers over the curtain across the bathroom door. It looked barely more than a closet amid the mostly empty space. The only other piece of furniture were the plastic drawers. A stack of three filled with everything he needed. 

A thrill went through him as he recalled his trip to the sex store. He’d never been to one before, only the naughty comic shop back before the war. Bucky had tempted him into the shady shop but his cheeks had burned too much to look for long. He didn’t care as much these days.

He shut the door behind him and climbed the stairs. He closed the door at the top and lingered in the kitchen as he watched the numbers glowing on the stove. Would she be early? His toe tapped and he smiled to himself. He could barely wait.

The knock came and he wanted to lunge across the counter. Instead, he rounded it and smoothed his hair before he grabbed the handle. He pulled the door open and she was there. She looked up at him as she played with the strap of her bag. He could see himself taking it and wrapping it around her neck…

“Hey,” He smiled. “I’m happy you came.”

“No problem,” She answered as he waved her in. 

She looked around his kitchen. The same discerning manner as before. Her eyes took in every inch of the place and yet when she looked at him, she was almost reticent.

“Can I get you something? I have some instant coffee hidden around here or some tea.” He offered.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t bother you…” Her voice trailed off. “Are you sure about this? It could do more harm than good. The general public is fickle.”

“Second thoughts?” He wondered.

“No, I just-- Fair warning, is all,” She shrugged. “You know, I didn’t mean to blindside you the first time. I was just--”

“Doing your job. I know... I knew that.” He beckoned her out to the living room. 

He’d arranged the chairs as they had been last time; facing each other beside the little fireplace. He took his and she took hers. He watched her place her purse beside the chair and she pulled out her phone and the same worn notebook. She was deliberate as she got herself in order.

“Again, I will be recording this.” She said. “Do you consent?”

“Yes,” He said and her index finger tapped the screen. “So…” She took a breath. He was amused to find her nervous. She fiddled with her pen as she sat forward in the chair. 

“Can’t we just have a conversation? I think if we just talk, it would be much better.” He intoned. “More natural.”

“Yeah, that’s what this is. Just a conversation,” She assured. “So, you done any drawing?”

He smiled. He had taken out his sketchpad to etch out the basement and to write his list of needs. He leaned on his elbow.

“No. But I’ve been thinking about it.” He replied. “With all that’s been going on, it’s been difficult but it’s really not that unusual. I’ve always felt like people watch me. Like they expect so much of me and I think in a way, I’ve grown used to just doing what they want.”

She nodded thoughtfully and wrote.

“Well, I think I have to ask. Any more thoughts on retirement?”

“Actually, the last few weeks, it’s crossed my mind. A lot of what you’ve said has just stuck there, you know? It would be nice to just have a hobbies. Not a job, not duties, just what I want.” He let out a breath. “I don’t think it’s selfish of me to want that and it doesn’t mean I don’t want people to be safe but I’d like to be able to have both.”

“Fishing, you said.” As she continued to write blindly.

“Well, yeah,” He nodded. “And a few other things. I’ve actually been working on a sort of project this week. Something to help me clear my mind. Decide where to go from here.”

“A project? And what would this project be?”

“It’s a bit hard to explain.” He said. “I think it would be easier to show you.”

“Show me?” She perked up. “Uh, okay?”

“It’s downstairs. A pretty big undertaking but it’s coming along,” He slid forward in his seat. “Would you like to see?”

“If you don’t mind.” She stood after he did and placed her phone on her notepad in her arm. He ushered her ahead of him and pointed her back to the kitchen. “You’ve really done quite the number on this place.” She glanced around the kitchen as she entered. “Did you do it yourself or--”

“Most of it. I had some help here and there.” He watched as she felt the marble of the counter top. 

“Well, I think your living room is bigger than my apartment,” She kidded. “You ever think of doing that? Fixing up houses?”

“Hmm, yeah, it’s kinda… what I’ve been doing.” He said. “It’s just through there.”

He gestured to the basement door. She turned and stepped towards it. She paused and he nodded.

“Go on,” He urged as he neared slowly.

She spun back and opened it carefully. She started her descent and he followed. When she reached the bottom, she stared at the heavy door. She rested her hand on the handle and paused.

“This is quite the door,” She remarked. “Heavy.”

“Yeah, a pain,” He said. He was on the step right behind her, almost right against her. She pushed into the next room as if she could feel him. As if she could hear his thoughts.

She strode inside but stopped short at the barren room. She tilted her head and looked at the lonely futon. She recoiled in confusion and turned back to him. The door closed and clicked. The lock whirred as he pressed his thumb to the censor; an old lock repurposed from a safe allotted him by Fury.

“What--” Her voice died as he stood across from her. His chest rose and fell victoriously. She blinked and her lips parted. “Steve…”

“You know they suspended me for two weeks.” He said as his smile faded. “Because of you. Say I can go back in a couple days but this keeps up and it might be indefinite.”

“Steve,” She repeated and grabbed her phone from atop her notebook. “What are you--” She stopped the recording and dialed. The speaker blared with a dead tone.

“There’s a jammer in the wall. It won’t work.” He explained. “Soundproofing too so you can be as loud as you want.”

“Is this some sort of joke?” She scoffed. “It’s not funny.”

“I thought a lot about our interview. About what you said. And I did exactly what you suggested.” He walked slowly around her and she turned with him; nervous, frightened. She hugged her notebook to her chest. “I found a hobby. Something to keep me busy.”

“I don’t--” She seemed to choke on her words and he heard the quaver in her voice. “Please--”

“Shhh,” He hushed. “You made me realise so much more.” He continued to circle her. “I am lonely and tired. Even if they do let me come back, I’m not so sure I want to. After all I’ve done, you think people would be a little more grateful, but no, they let some devious reporter twist my words.”

“I only wrote what you said.” Her eyes searched him desperately.

“You provoked me. You wanted me to get mad.” He neared her and she backed up until she was against the wall. “You wanted me to snap. To give you a story. Because I’m the only way you can make your name.”

“No, no--”

“Shut up,” He grabbed her chin. “You’re done talking. It’s my turn.”

“Please--”

“You have one more chance to keep your mouth shut or I’m going to make you,” He squeezed and she whimpered. He tore her notebook away from her with his other hand and her phone cracked on the floor. “Did you tell anyone you were here?”

She stared at him then slowly nodded. His hand slipped to her throat and she flinched.

“Who?” He asked as he listened to her heartbeat pick up.

“P-Poppy, my editor,” She whispered.

He laughed. He shook his head and released her.

“I know when you’re lying. I can hear it.” He jabbed her chest. “Ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum.” He imitated her pulse. “You didn’t tell anyone, did you?”

She didn’t move or speak. Her eyes betrayed her.

“And you came in the back so no one knows you’re here.” He put his hands on his hips. “You’ve been hanging around downtown, sniffing around those whores. That’s a dangerous neighbourhood. Not unusual for girls to go missing, and one who doesn’t belong there? Not a surprise at all.”

“Someone will look for me,” She rasped as she touched her throat.

“So,” He grinned. “You really think they’ll find you?”

She was shaking and he was hard. He only just realised it as the pain settled in his core.

“You know they won’t and you know you’re stuck down here.” He crossed his arms. “You know it’s all your fault. You did this. This is what you deserve.”

“Steve--”

“You speak again and I’m going to knock a few teeth out. A pity because I like to have something pretty to look at but I don’t need you facing me.” He warned. “And that’s your first lesson; be quiet. Second: listen.”

She inhaled. He saw the glimmer of anger beneath her fear. His jeans were unbearably tight. He shifted his weight and dropped his arms. He cracked his neck and turned to the small plastic drawers. He knew she would try it. He laughed when he heard her shoes scuff on the floor.

He caught her as she hammered against the door. As she tried to twist the handle helplessly. He pulled her back and spun her away. He tossed her across the room and she stumbled onto her knees before the futon. She grunted as she struggled to get back to her feet.

He turned back to the drawers and opened the top one. He pulled out a pair of leather cuffs joined by a large metal link. He faced her and held them up. She tried to dodge past him but he easily stopped her with a single arm. He pinned her; her back to him as he crushed her between him and the wall.

“I’m going to turn you around and if you try anything else, I’m going to break your wrist. Then I’m going to cuff you anyway.” He growled. “As you scream in pain.”

She stilled, her hands still pressed to the wall. He could feel her trembling. He rubbed his crotch against her and he heard her heartbeat peak again. She could feel him too. The heat radiated off her body and fed his own.

He pushed away from her carefully. 

“Turn around.” He ordered. She obeyed, reluctantly. “Hands in front.” 

She held her hands out and he cuffed them. He lifted them above her head and led her to the hook. He clasped it through the link and turned the reel until she was on her toes.

“That’s it,” He purred as he backed away. 

Her eyes flashed and she kicked out at him. He caught her foot and felt the fragile bones of her ankle in his grip. He tightened his hold on her and she cried out.

“A little more and you won’t be able to stand on your own,” He snarled. “Not that you’ll be doing much of that.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She cried out. “You’re crazy.”

“You made me this way,” He let go of her and spun her violently. “You!” He stopped her so she faced him. “Because all I can think of is you. Of how fucking mad you make me. Of how… I need you.”

“Don’t do this, please,” She lowered her voice. Pathetic. “If you let me go, I won’t tell. I’ll--”

The hook clinked against the link as his hand caused her head to snap back. She was stunned, he could see it in her eyes, and slightly dazed. The corner of her lip began to bleed and her cheek was already starting to swell. She tried to shake out the pain but groaned and stilled herself.

“Shut. Up.” He hissed. “That was nothing. You understand? That was me swatting a fly.”

Her lips quivered as her eyes watered. His cock was throbbing. He stepped back and admired her hanging from the ceiling. Her head lolled as she spat a mouthful of blood and nodded. He bent to gather up her broken phone and the notepad. He placed them atop the drawers and opened the second drawer. He didn’t know what to try first.

[connorandersons-blog]

Kinktober day 15: Strength, RK1700

Ok, ngl I’m running out of days. Like I’ve got tomorrow and thats it for pre-written days. Soooo, I’m kinda stressing, I know that like I don’t have to write all the days, but now that I’ve started I feel like I have to. I have written over 90k words for kinktober in all, which is a huge accomplishment for me. Anyway, so this is just a small warning that the days may be late or won’t be written at all, sorry.

Hope you enjoy this day, though!

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

It had started as a semi-innocent bet. Connor had tried to avoid Nines, scared the man would be everything Cyberlife claimed he was. Nines even stayed partners with Gavin Reed and managed to get the man to calm somewhat. 

So, ok, Connor was a bit jealous of Nines. He was tall, strong, intimidating, handsome, really strong, fast, smarter, ugh! It was infuriating. Not to mention how stoic and quiet he often was. And when he stared at Connor it was like he could see into his soul. 

But even with Connor's avoidance, Nines still stayed close to Connor when he could. He would do things that Connor was going to do and it drove him crazy. He didn't need someone else doing his job just because they thought they were better than everyone. 

Yet everyone seemed to adore Nines, even Hank quickly warmed up to him. It made no sense! Nines were made for the military, not talking to people, so how was he so good at making friends? 

Of course, Reed was the one that had started the bet. It wasn't even too bad of an idea, just who could last longer in a fight. Not brute strength, everyone knew Nines would win that even with how strong Connor was. 

They wouldn't be allowed to actually damage each other, but soon the whole office was placing bets. Hank had thankfully bet on Connor but it didn't make him feel too good. One of the good things was that Nines didn't seem too comfortable with it either. 

Connor was currently standing in the gym in the basement, facing a punching bag. He spun and kicked it, sending it flying before he reached out and caught it, putting it back in place. He sighed and rested his head against it. He'd been going at this since work ended three hours ago. Hank had long since gone home along with almost everyone except for the night shift. The night shift never used the gym so Connor didn't have to worry about anyone else in the room. 

He huffed before moving back and into his stance, staring down the bag. He started with quick jabs, not putting too much force behind them, but staying quick on his feet. If he had an advantage it was his smaller size. Nines would have fewer areas to hit and he'd have to be more careful where each blow landed. 

He sped up, now using his right hand for more powerful hits, dancing around the bag, ducking on occasion. 

God everyone was going to be bidding on Nines. His replacement if Cyberlife had had its way. The man whose eyes were a beautiful blue, with those lips that sometimes quirked up into a smirk. The way he didn't seem to give a shit when Gavin decided to be a dick. The glances he sent Connor when that happened, playfully rolling his eyes. 

The way Connor tried to not meet those eyes. The way his stomach flipped the first time he had heard Nines actually laugh. It had been so short but Connor had unconsciously saved the audio file. The way Connor wanted to know if he really did as good of hugs as he looked. 

God, Connor hated his perfect hair. He hated how Nines seemed to be able to stand completely still for hours when Connor could barely sit still for ten minutes without needing to fidget with someone. 

The next blows landed harder and he stopped ducking, breath coming out quickly. 

Who did Nines think he was? Being too damn perfect. Why did if always have to butt in on Connor's things. He didn't need Nines being all high and mighty, solving Connor's cases when he had his own. 

"Fuck!" Connor cursed, punching so hard his fist went through the bag. He stumbled and his eyes went wide. He always made sure to keep his strength in check, yet his emotions got the best of him. Nines probably never had that problem. 

"I do hope you aren't planning to do that to me on our little contest." Nines' voice rang out across the gym and Connor yelped, pulling his hand out. It was covered by a thin layer of his own blue blood. He shook it out with a hiss before trying to hide it behind his back from Nines. He didn't need him to see how weak he was. 

"Don't worry, I won't." He grumbled, using his ok hand to push the hair back out of his face. 

Nines gave a low hum and walked over, looking at the now useless bag. "I wish we could call this nonsense off."  

"What, think you're too good to fight me?" Connor snapped, crossing his arms with a slight grimace from the pain. He'd need to grab a bottle of thirium so his self-repair would kick in again. He hadn't even meant to turn that off. 

"No, I'd simply prefer to not hurt you." Nine's words had him scoffing and shaking his head. 

"Oh, that's rich." 

"Rich?"

"Ugh, nothing." He waved him off and reached up to unhook the bag but was just a tad too short. He squinted up at it before looking around for something small to step up one. 

"Here, allow me." Nines said and easily reached the distance, getting it down onto the ground and against the wall to take out later. "Would you like me to get you another one? Perhaps one that's heavier if you plan on using extra strength." 

Connor pulled at his hair, glaring at Nines. "I don't need your help! You know, you're not so perfect." Connor pointed at Nines. "I was here first, you can't just fucking replace me!" God, he hated how similar he sounded to Gavin. But it did open his eyes to what Gavin had gone through, how frustrating and scary it could hem 

"I do not plan on replacing you, and I know I'm far from perfect. That is why I've been trying to learn from you." It almost sounded like a question and Connor thought he saw the embarrassment and even insecurity. 

"Learning from me?! All you've done is try to butt in and solve cases, picking up things I've doubted or just doing fucking everything! I don't need help, Nines." It felt so good to finally say it, better than punching the bag had been. 

Nines took a step back, hurt flashing across his face before it became neutral again. "I apologize for what I had come across as. I simply… I wanted to learn from you and even impress you." The last part was mumbled and Nines couldn't meet his eyes. 

Connor couldn't even process what he had said for a few seconds. Why would Nines want to impress him? Connor wasn't anything special, especially not in comparison to Nines. The only one who truly tried to impress him was Sumo and on incredibly rare occasions, Hank. "Wait, why?" 

Nines seemed to stall for a second before reaching out and pulling Connor's wrist from behind his back. Connor winced at the sight more than the pain as Nines looked his hand over. The skin on his knuckles had receded and small little cuts drew the blood out of him. 

Nines gently brushed his thumb over Connor's knuckles, holding his hand so gently. It sent a shiver up his spine as he stared at his hand. Why was Nines doing this? Why was he being so gentle and careful? Why was he even holding Connor's hand in the first place?! 

"Nines?" Connor whispered, looking up at him. He worried that if he talked too loud whatever this was would stop. And for some reason, Connor didn't want Nines to stop holding his hand. 

"You need thirium." Nines mumbled, still focused on Connor's knuckles. His hands were bigger than Connor's and easily held his like they were meant to hold him. 

"I know." He wiggled his fingers just slightly and Nines ran his own fingers over Connor's. He was so tender with him like he would break if he put too much pressure. "Nines, why do you want to impress me?" 

Nines finally looked up from their hands to meet Connor's eyes. Connor noticed a very slight blue tint to his face and he wanted to reach up and touch, see how warm his skin would be.

Nines used one of his hands to reach up and carefully brush a hair back away from Connor's face. "Because you're you. I wanted your attention but you seemed to hate me, so I thought I could help. I wanted you to talk to me." 

Connor's breath caught, eyes wide. Nines had wanted Connor's attention? But why? That still didn't make sense. Why would Nines even want to be near him, let alone talk to him?  

"Spar with me." He blurted out before cringing at himself. "If you want. I'm just, I'm not always good with words." Plus he had far too much energy and needed to get it out before he could properly think with Nines so close.

Nines nodded before frowning. "I'll have to wrap your hand first, wait right here." 

Nines moved confidently across the room to the first aid kits. Connor stood there shocked, his hands shaking gently. This was happening? Nines cared about him. He hadn't meant to be a dick. 

He jolted when he felt Nines take his hand again, spraying a cleaner onto his knuckles and carefully rubbed his knuckles before starting to wrap his hand. 

He did it quickly and efficiently before stepping back and letting the hand go. "How does that feel?" Nines asked. 

Connor flexed his hand before nodding. "It feels good, thank you Nines." 

Nines nodded and led them over to the extra padded area where anyone could spar. Nines hadn't taken off his jacket or shoes, so Connor kept his own on as he stepped up. 

They watched each other before Nines came at Connor. He quickly moved out of the way, trying to grab at Nines's outstretched arm to no avail. 

Suddenly his fist was slamming into Nines's face while he one sunk into Connor's stomach. They stumbled apart for a brief second to catch their breaths before diving back at each other, eyes narrowed in determination.

Connor dodged his fist and came up with his own; for a brief instant, Nines's blue eyes widened before he managed to tilt his head back and slam it into mine. Stars burst into Connor's vision but he shook it off, blinding throwing a kick.

Nines stepped back, easily evading the kick. "Is that all you got?" Nines taunted, smirking. Connor growled and threw himself at Nines, changing direction at the last minute. He dropped and swept his leg, huffing when Nines jumped over. 

He expected it, anticipated it, and in the moments after landing, he let his body relax but let out an oof as Nines managed to cause Connor to fall. 

Nines went to grab Connor's legs but he twisted in the hold and kneed him in the stomach. The large android fell forward onto Connor but caught himself before he could squish him. 

Connor squinted up at him, moving them to try and throw Nines off but with little success. The mats edges dug into him and he gave a devilish smile. He found the edge and pushed hard enough to get the mat to slide. It was enough of a distraction to allow him to flip them and straddle Nines. 

"Hah!" Connor grinned, grabbing Nines's wrist and pinning his hands above his head. Nines squinted at him and shifted just enough to get the right angle and rolled them. 

Connor's breath left him again as Nines pushed him down onto the mat, using his extra body weight to keep him down. Connor tried to wiggle out of the hold, but it only caused him to whine sharply. 

His eyes widened at his own reaction, but Nines kept him pinned. "Do you yield?" He asked, staring him down. Connor wrapped his legs around Nines in a last attempt to push him forward to make him lose balance but it didn't work. Instead, it only caused their bodies to slide against each other. 

They both froze at that but neither said anything, just staring at each other. Connor was sure his entire face was flushed blue. 

"Do you yield?" Nines asked again, their faces only an inch apart. Connor watched as Nines's eyes flicked down to his lips then back up to his eyes. Connor licked his lips and his back arched just slightly, trying to get closer. 

"Make me." He whispered. Nines growled and leaned forward, crushing their lips together. Connor moaned and pushed up against Nines, trying to pull him down with his legs still wrapped around him. 

God his lips really were perfect and felt so good against his own. Nines's lips were hot against Connor's, his tongue burning a warm, wet path into his mouth. Eager hands fumbled at Nines's clothing, undoing his fly, waiting for the ok. He gets it by a low groan and Connor slips his hand in. 

He runs his hands up and down, teasing Nines through his underwear, probably the same Cyberlife issued boxers. Nines groans and rolls his hips down. 

His hands travel down Connor's body before pushing his shirt up and sliding his hands under, finding every sensitive spot. 

"Ah, Nines!" Connor gasped, back arching off the mat. Nines hums and trails hot kisses down Connor's throat, hands moving away to drag the jacket off Connor then quickly unbutton Connor's shirt. 

Shit, why hadn't they done this before? Nines and Connor slid perfectly together, and Connor would barely stand it. "More. Nines, fuck, more." 

Connor yelped when Nines stood up, easily picking him up before pushing him against the wall. He used only one arm to keep him up while the other unzipped Connor.

Connor wiggled and let his pants fall to the floor before wrapping his legs around Nines again. It was completely unfair how easily Nines held him up like he weighed nothing. Yet it was one of the hottest things he'd seen. 

Nines went back to attack Connor's neck, grinding against him. Connor could feel the cold press of the zipper but he focused on the large cock underneath it. God damn, even his dick was bigger than Connor's. 

"Ah! Yes!" Connor's eyes squeezed shut, his hips rolling in time, trying to get as much friction as possible. "Yes!" 

"Connor, what do you want? How far do you want this to go?" Nines asked, pulling back so they could look at each other. 

"I want you to fuck me. Don't even dare think about holding back, I can take it all." He could and gladly would. 

Nines nodded and all but tossed Connor back onto the mat, pulling his clothes off and folding them. Connor groaned at the wait but it was oddly adorable and charming. Not to mention how turned on he was at the roughness. 

He reached down and pulled himself out of his boxers, slowly pumping his hand. "Mmh! Fuck!" He moaned, not having done anything like this in a while. He'd been too focused on Nines and the stupid fucking bet.

He squeezed his eyes closed, knees bent and his toes digging into the mat. Then he felt a strong warm hand wrap around the base and squeeze just enough to leave him gasping from a mixture of pain and pleasure. 

His eyes snapped open and saw Nines glowering down at him. He was just so big and Connor could see his muscles rippling as he positioned himself over Connor. "Did I tell you you could touch yourself?" 

"You were taking too damn long!" Connor pouted, trying to buck into the hands. Nines squeezed slightly tighter and Connor yelped. 

"The answer to the question was no, no I did not. If you want me to fuck your tight little ass then you'll follow my directions or get punished. Do you understand?" Nines reached up and grabbed a fistful of hair, tugging sharply. 

Connor whimpered and nodded. "Yes! Yes, please, I understand. I'll be good." He'd be so good for him. 

Nines roughly let go of Connor's hair, letting his head fall back into the mat before loosening the pressure and slowly dragging his hand up. "There's a good boy." Connor squeezed his eyes closed and tried to keep still, but it was so much. "Oh, you like that? I thought you would."

Connor nodded his head again and let out a surprised squeak when two fingers were roughly pushed into him. Even now he could feel Nines holding back, not using his full strength. 

"I've thought about how I'd fuck you. I was worried I'd be too rough, too strong, but you like it. You want to be thrown around and shown your place, hmm? Fuck you so hard you can't stand. No one else can do that, only me." It was so true, he knew that Nines could fuck him harder and faster than anyone else. He'd be able to feel this for weeks. 

"Only you. Please Nines, please." He begged and would get on his knee to beg too if he had to. He practically drilled when Nines freed himself from his boxers, adding in another finger. 

Connor had a flash of panic, not sure he could even take that much, but he sure as hell would try. Later he could also try sucking on him, letting Nines fuck his throat too. "Oh shit." 

Nines smirked and without warning added a fourth finger, stretching quickly before pulling all his fingers out. "You still want this?" 

Connor nodded and thankfully held back the yelp when Nines flipped him over and slid himself all the way in with one fluid movement. Connor silently screamed before his head dropped to his chest. 

Nines held him by the hips, fingers digging in enough that the skin had to pull away there to reveal his chassis. Connor could barely even think so he was immensely glad when Nines did all the work. Pulling out before snapping his hips forward and using his hold in Connor's hips to drag him back. 

Each thrust had Connor gasping and his hands and legs trembling. He rambled words he didn't even understand but Nines just kept going, fucking him deeper and harder just like he promised. 

"I'm gonna fuck you like this until you come, then I'm going to keep fucking you again and again. You'll never be able to imagine anyone but me in you." Nines snapped his hips forward and Connor moaned, his toes curling. 

Nines reached down and took Connor in hand, pumping in time with his quick harsh thrusts. "Just like that, baby. Feel so damn good." 

Connor bit his lip, hands trying to find something to grab onto. But his head was yanked back as Nines held his hair, and Connor couldn't hold back anymore. 

He tried to warn Nines but he was already spilling over the mat with a silent scream. The gym may be in the basement but it wasn't completely soundproof, and Connor was not going to be caught.  

Nines pulled him up and spun him around before pulling Connor back down, only now he was sitting in his lap facing Nines. 

"Damn, maybe I can win at the fight if you come this fast." Nines captured Connor's lips in his before Connor could make a snarky comeback. 

He felt tears start streaming down his face at the overstimulation, but Nines didn't stop until he'd come two more times, and only then did Nines let himself come, holding Connor by his hips. 

Connor knew he'd be sore not just from the sex but also all the times Nines had thrown him around into a new position. Nines had to carry him to a seat and then handed him a bottle of thirium as he looked him over. 

"You ok, Connor? Was I too rough?" He asked, making sure he drank the whole bottle first, hands massaging his thighs. 

Connor nodded and leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. He felt so content and exhausted in the best way. "You were amazing, but do you know what this means?" 

Nines tilted his head then softly shook it, reaching up to gently soothe his hair. "No?" 

"I know how to beat you in our fight." Connor grinned so widely and broke out into giggles as Nines all but pounced on him, tickling his sides. 

Neither left the gym until the very early morning but they held hands and Connor promised to see him soon with a kiss.

[senacal]

A Perfect Disaster

Request: Not a request

Pairing: Hank McCoy x Reader

Prompt:  Imagine Hank McCoy wants to spice up his and (Y/N)'s romance life and tries all sorts of cheesy tactics such as candlelit dinners, bringing fruit and whipped cream into the bedroom, sexy underwear... whether they fail or not in their romancing is another question...

Warnings: Fluff, undertones to sex, cursing, slight angst? speculations of cheating

Author’s Note: I wanted to write at least one thing for each character I write for and I stumbled on this prompt and thought of how awkward Hank would be, so here you go!

Requests are open! 

(Gif not mine)

Lately (Y/N) has noticed that Hank has been acting kind of odd. (Y/N) was trying to figure out why that was, so they’ve been subtly asking around. And by subtly, that meant flat out asking what the fuck was up with Hank McCoy. When (Y/N) asked Charles, the telepath who was sure to know everything, he had refused to look into Hank’s mind. Which (Y/N) found frustrating because now they had to go asking more people what they thought. All their answers matched, “Ask Charles.” Yeah, no shit! But Charles was being pretty mindful of this. The one time (Y/N) asks him to abuse his power, Charles refuses. That left (Y/N) only one option. Ask Hank what was going on.

It wasn’t such a surprise to find Hank below the mansion in the lab he had built, so that’s exactly where (Y/N) had gone to look. But what was strange was to find him spending his time shopping. C’mon, Hank McCoy willingly shopping? He hated most social interactions and crowds. So when (Y/N) went looking for him only to be told he was at the mall of all places was beyond confusing to them. (Y/N) was used to the late nights and sometimes, all-nighters, that Hank pulled. He was the resident genius so he was always on call. (Y/N) could deal with that. But a whole week? A week of ignored phone calls, a week of late nights, a week of canceled plans. What was so important that Hank had left (Y/N) all by themselves for a whole week? (Y/N) knew there were no current missions. Hell, they were apart of the X-Men for crying out loud so they were sure to know if a mission was happening or not.

And now Hank was shopping? What the hell was happening?

(Y/N) was sitting in their shared bedroom, waiting for his arrival. He had been gone approximately three hours now. (Y/N) was watching the clock, counting the minutes. Hank’s new habits were driving them crazy. What if he was cheating on them? That could explain why Hank was never around anymore. It would explain why Charles wouldn’t tell (Y/N) what Hank was thinking. Then again Charles could actually want to give them the privacy everyone needed. Fuck, it all sucked. Especially the not knowing part of all this. (Y/N) always knew what people were doing. They were always one step ahead of everyone else. So the fact that (Y/N) didn’t know what Hank was doing, was driving them crazy.

“Hey babe, I’m back,” Hank walked into their shared room and deposited his bags in their shared closet. “Sorry I took so long, the mall was packed. I can’t believe people go there to hang out,” Hank shuddered.

“Right… Can I ask why you were there?” (Y/N) wondered.

“I was buying a few things,” Hank shut the closet door and sat on the bed right next to (Y/N).  He placed a small kiss on their cheek, “I know I haven’t been around much recently, but I want to make that up to you. Make sure your schedule is free tomorrow because it's gonna be me and you all day,” He promised.

“A day dedicated to us? You’re sure some projects won’t need you?” (Y/N) asked somewhat bitterly. They didn’t mean to sound so petulant, but a week without Hank was kinda grating. They slept in the same room and (Y/N) still hardly saw him.

“Of course not, that’s why I was down there for so long. I wanted to finish ahead of time. Otherwise, we’d still be going through the same routine,” Hank furrowed his brows confused. “Didn’t I tell you I would be especially busy this week?”

“It must have slipped your mind,” (Y/N) shrugged. “It’s fine though,” (Y/N) perked up and sat up straighter, “So you have plans for us for tomorrow?”

Hank grinned and nodded, “I do, but it’s a surprise so you can’t know anything about it, so no cheating okay? Don’t ask Charles or the others about it and don’t try to use your powers to glimpse into the future.”

(Y/N) furrowed their brows, “Okay… can I ask why?”

“No, you may not,” Hank kissed (Y/N) on the nose, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to set some things up for tomorrow, Love you!” Hank stood up and almost ran out the door.

The rest of the night was spent with Raven, the both of you speculating what Hank had planned. Raven was saying that Hank was going to do something that would be simple because he wasn’t one to draw attention to himself. (Y/N) had to agree, that was very much like Hank, but with the way he has been acting lately, they thought this time would be different too. By the end of the night, Hank was actually in bed at a reasonable hour and (Y/N) got to fall asleep in his arms. Even if the next day turned out horrible for whatever reason, (Y/N) at least had that moment in Hank’s arms.

The next morning, (Y/N) woke up alone. It wasn’t too unusual, but they were wondering where Hank had run off to. He had promised a full day for the two of them. (Y/N) sat up in bed and stretched their arms overhead. It was kind of hard to force themselves out of bed most days but for once (Y/N) had gotten the best night’s sleep in over a week. They were just about to get up when the bedroom door burst open. (Y/N) would have been startled if it weren’t for the fact that it was Hank who had come barrelling in with what looked like breakfast. 

“Sorry, I didn’t wake you did I?” He winced.

(Y/N) shook their head with an amused smile, “You need help?”

“No, I’ve got it, you just sit back and relax,” Hank kicked the door closed with his foot and met (Y/N) on the bed, “I made us some pancakes, eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns,” he beamed proudly. Despite Hank’s advantageous feet, he was pretty clumsy, especially in the kitchen.

“You cooked?” (Y/N) asked surprised.

“Well, Raven cooked, but I did learn a few tricks!” He spoke happily. 

(Y/N) too their plate from Hank with a grateful smile, “Well, I’ll have to thank her,” they leaned over and kissed Hank’s cheek, “Thank you, my love.”

Henry blushed despite himself. He had thought he’d be used to affection by now, but in truth, he was still as flustered as the first time (Y/N) had shown him any form of affection. Hank was used to being alone in his lab, or alone with his teammates. He never thought he’d meet someone who would make his whole world bright. 

Breakfast was delicious and (Y/N) vowed to thank Raven once again. They knew Raven could cook, but damn! (Y/N) sat back and pat their stomach, “That was wonderful, thank you, Hank.”

“It was nothing, really. Wait till you see what else I have planned,” He grinned. He had made sure to set a schedule that was sure to be successful. He awoke early that morning to ensure everything was bulletproof, figuratively speaking of course. 

“I can’t wait,” (Y/N) moved their plate aside to get up, “For now, I’d like to shower, care to join me?”

Hank was up in an instant, he could afford to be distracted at least a little bit, right? Everything was sure to turn out successful in the end.

Everything was not successful. Hank couldn’t understand what had happened! One minute he was taking (Y/N) apart inch by inch in the shower, the next, (Y/N) had slipped and hit their head thus killing the mood. This was why he never indulged in shower sex! Well, he also never had the opportunity, but (Y/N) hurt their head! They had a major headache for a couple of hours after that so Hank had to cancel a few plans, like the training in the Danger Room, the horseback riding reservation, and the movie date. 

(Y/N) had apologized repeatedly because they felt as if it were their fault, but Hank was sure to shoot down each apology. Hank should have been more careful, at least that’s what he had said each time (Y/N) apologized. 

“Are you sure you’re feeling better? We can skip the picnic if you’re still hurting,” Hank softly spoke.

“No, we are not canceling any more plans. You put so much thought into today and I already ruined a good portion of it,” (Y/N) put up a finger to silence Hank, “Don’t say that I didn’t because we both know if it weren’t for my headache we’d be exhausted physically by now.”

Hank sighed, “I should have been careful, if we’re blaming someone, then it’s on me,” Hank stood up from their shared bed and straightened his clothes, “If you really want to do this, then I’ll make sure the basket is ready to go.” Even though Henry had checked everything over that morning, he desperately needed to make sure everything was ready to go now. 

“I do want to do this. I’ll meet you downstairs, okay?” (Y/N) stood up and shooed Hank away.

Once Hank had left, (Y/N) opened their top drawer to their dresser and pulled out an Advil bottle, just in case. 

When (Y/N) finally emerged downstairs, Hank was holding a blanket, a basket, and an umbrella. “Ready (Your nickname)?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.” (Y/N) held out their hand to take something, anything from Hank who resembled a packed mule. Hank sighed gratefully and handed the umbrella to them. Once Hank’s hand was free, (Y/N) used the advantage to lace their fingers together. They loved to see Hank’s cheeks flush anytime they did something simple with their affection. 

Together, Hank and (Y/N) walked down the path of the gardens to find a good spot for their picnic. Despite the happenings of the morning, (Y/N) was enjoying their day. Sure they hurt their head, but Hank was there to take care of them. Hank was there to cuddle and he was there to dote over (Y/N). The mere presence of the other mutant was enough to ease (Y/N)’s pain. They were looking forward to the rest of the day, whether it’s ruined by some unfortunate event or not. As long as Hank was with them, nothing else mattered.

To Hank’s surprise and delight, the picnic was a huge success. Not only did their simple meal suffice, but the sparkling cider was also chilled perfectly. The flowers in the garden were in full bloom and even though there were a few bees, the bees managed to keep away from them, though Hank suspected (Y/N) had to do with that. (Y/N) had the ability to interact with animals, big, small, aquatic, land, etc. Alex used to tease them both that (Y/N) managed to snag Hank’s love and affection because (Y/N)’s mutant powers tamed the beast within him. He wasn’t too far off, but it had nothing to do with the powers (Y/N) possessed and everything to do with their personality and who they were.

Now that the picnic was finished, Hank took ahold of (Y/N)’s hand, and together they walked around the grounds of the mansion. It was truly beautiful. Charles managed to create the most beautiful school and they couldn’t have asked for better scenery. 

Once the sun began to set, Hank escorted (Y/N) back to their room for dessert. When Hank suggested dessert, he did a godawful wink that either Charles or Alex had shown him. (Y/N) thought it was adorable and followed him inside nonetheless. 

“You head on up and I’ll meet you there, okay?” Hank kissed (Y/N)’s temple and lightly pushed them in the direction of the stairs.

“Alright, don’t keep me waiting or I’ll get started without you,” (Y/N) teased.

Hank couldn’t help the grin that formed on his lips as he watched (Y/N) walk up the stairs. In spite of it all, their day was the perfect disaster and Hank wouldn’t have changed anything in the end.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

Hi I would like to request creeper or hank you can choose! I would like the number 29. And 41 and can it be angst and maybe some smut please?? I was thinking where creeper or hank cheats on their old day with one of the vickis girls, and they found out because the girl that he cheated on her with brags and their old lady overhears but can it be a happy ending ??

Thanks to me lovely beta reader @chibsytelford for editing 💘

Prompt:

29. “I fucked up everything”.

41. “Who's that bitch”.

Wearing that tight black dress that drives Creeper crazy and your hair falling like a cascade on your back, you walk towards your car. The crew has been out for almost one week, and usually your boyfriend goes straight home, but seems like the shipment went better than expected. So they're having a party and, of course, you must join them as his Old Lady. Parking next to the motorbikes, you put some perfume on your collarbone. This one that he brought you from Las Vegas, when he fell in love with the smell, saying that it remind him of you.

You're desperate to see him, hug him and tell him how much you missed him every day. But there's a scene happening next to the ring that it's screwing you. Getting out of the car, you listen the talk between Creeper and one of Vicky's girl.

“Go”. He demands pointing the main metallic door with a hand, without noticing you.

“Why?” She asks crossing her arms on her chest. “'Cause your ‘reina’ doesn't know wha' happened when you get shot? I can remember that you enjoyed it pretty much, honey”.

“Who's that bitch?” Your brain is about to explode because of the fury, walking towards them with big steps.

You've never seen Creeper so pale, like he just watched a ghost. The girl is laughing loud, till you slap her on the face, making her tremble.

“'Amma fuckin' kill you!” You yell at him, pushing Creeper with your hands on his chest. The tears ruining your make up, falling down your cheeks.

“Baby, reina, listen! I can explain it!” He begs you, right before you hit his nose with your fist. You growl too, knowing that someone is happening in your knuckles after it.

Running to your car, feeling stupid for first time in your life, you start the engine watching how he tries to reach you. But he's not fast enough, and by the rear-view mirror above your head you can see the whole crew completely confused. You don't have a place to go, driving with no direction and your gaze blurred because of your crying.

And when you think you're far enough of Santo Padre, parking the car by a side of the road, you hit the steering wheel with both cuffs. Resting your forehead against it, you let go all the pain you've been carrying inside you the last hour with a noisy scream, till it rips your throat and you start coughing. You trusted him, blinded, without doubting. You didn't say anything about his nights in Vicky's house. And who knows how many time it happened?

Your phone dings. One text. Two. Three. Four more. Lying on your seat with your eyes closed, you take it. You know it's not Creeper. You know that probably Bishop took his phone to avoid more problems. And yes, it doesn't surprise you when you see Vicky's name in the notifications. With a heavy snort, hitting again the steering wheel, you're about to read it without opening the conversation.

💬: Neron was high

💬: I didn't know

💬: Bishop is furious

💬: So do I

💬: She's gonna pay for it

💬: Come to my house

💬: We have to talk

‘Neron was high’. You re-read the message thousand times, hoping that it doesn't mean what you think she's trying to tell you. Starting the car, you turn around, typing on the gps the location, 'cause you don't know where the hell you are. Desert on both sides. Desert behind your back. Desert on the horizon. Sand is everything you can see in the middle of the night. Stepping on the gas, wheel screeching leaving a black trail on the asphalt, with the radio turned off to focus on the road, going as fast as you can.

The dunes are left behind when you almost arrive to the illegal border with Mexico, next to Vicky's place. There are no motorbikes parked, and the lights of the second floor are turned off. The woman is sitting on the main stairs, smoking a cigar. Raising her eyes to your car, she gets up shaking her jeans with a hand, while she's having the last smoke before throwing it.

You stop the car, cleaning your tears with a tissue, trying to fix your make up. At least, you don't look like a dying raccoon. The older walks to you, surrounding your body with her arms in a warm hug, hoping that maybe it could help. You don't say anything, following her inside the silent house. On the main table, in the living room, there's one of those beers you usually drink. Sitting in front of her, having a sip, you keep your eyes on your reddened right hand. Vicky notices it, going to the kitchen to find some ice.

“When Neron was shot, he was there. High all the time because of the morphine. Mariela took advantage, but he can't remember it. No one saw anything”. She explains, offering you a bag of frozen beans, placing it on your knuckles. “Look, I understand you're angry, or upset, or whatever. But I know him since eight years ago. He has been shot, stabbed, hit... I want to think that even once he was run over. And I've never seen him crying. But tonight... Tonight he was collapsed and broken”.

Your inner lip is trembling, picking up the beer to drink till you need to breathe, cleaning your mouth with the back of your free hand. You can't look at her, feeling ashamed and a completely blithering idiot.

“You know what...?” Vicky takes your hand, after she pulls away the bottle, to make you raise your dark eyes. “When he met you, he came to talk me about a beautiful and smart girl he knew in a supermarket, buying tequila”.

A soft and shy smile appears on your lips, feeling a tear running down your cheek. That was very weird, 'cause you were to buy alcohol for a party and a man who looked like he had just come out of jail approached you. He talked you about the different tequilas, about the graduation, about the origin. About anything that would allow him to have a conversation with you. He was fun and, finally, he got your number. The rest is pure history.

“Then, when he proposed you, he brought us all together. Do you wanna know for what?” You nod in silence. “He was angry 'cause he had a lot of photos of you, and he didn't know which one he could use as his phone' background. At the end, he made one of... those collages with all. We were more than an hour. Taza almost shot him”.

You can't help but laugh, imagining the situation, while she narrows your hand lovingly.

“Talk with him, mi niña. He truly loves you and he truly care about you more than the club. There are no men as Neron, in a world like ours”.

Biting your inner lip, you nod again getting up of your seat. The woman cleans your tears with her fingers, before leaving a kiss on your forehead.

“Mariela will not work in Santo Padre, nor in the surrounding'. Bishop demanded. I approved. She disrespected you, and a Mayan. There's no place for people who betrays the family”.

┅┅ ┅ ┅ ┅┅

Taking a long breath enough to fill your lungs, you unlock the front door of the flat. There's light inside, finding Creeper on the sofa with a rag with some ice in. He doesn't move. He knows you well, and he knows if he gets closer you're gonna punch him again. Probably. You can see his right cheek is slightly swollen and red, and you can't help but feel guilty, putting down your eyes to your hand. When he notices it, he practically jump off of his seat, wanting to heal you in some way. So he places the ice on your knuckles.

“I fucked up everything. 'Am sorre'. I was fuckin' stoned”. He says with a broken whisper. “I can't rememba'. If it happened, it didn't mean anything fo' me, I promise”.

Clicking your tongue, you push him closer to you by a hand on his back-head, pressing your lips against his. It's been one week since the last time you've been together. For you two, is too much.

“Did you... really call the crew to show them a bunch of pics' mine?”

At first, he seems confused, till he understand what you are talking about. He takes his phone, unlocking it after type de code.

“I use it when 'am out”. He says, while he shows you the screen. “When 'am here, I use that one where you're sleeping on top of me”.

You don't know if it's better laugh than cry, with your brain failing for an instant. Leaning towards you in a slow move to give you enough time to run away, he finally kisses you again. And there's no resistance on your part. Letting the ice falls down, you surround his neck with your arms, feeling his big hands pressing your back to him.

“Forgive me, mi reina, please”.

“It's okay, Neron... It's okay”. You shake your head before giving him some careful kisses on his cheek. “Can we... just go to sleep? You look tired after the ride”.

“Will you be with me when I wake up?”

“You're like a fuckin' koala, what do you think?”

[dumbwaystodeviate]

Oh, I got one! You know how Connor have puppy eyes? Maybe in a reverse au, Hank deviates because he's faced with his human disaster's secret weapon, aka puppy eyes!

Hank had long since been aware that that dealing with humans, especially in the DPD, would come with many challenges and frustrations. Some were easier to handle, mostly being verbal but with no deviancy to speak of it was pointless, and some were three raccoons in a trench coat. Like that GV that was more than feral.

It goes without saying that after all of that the android had hoped that his partner wouldn’t be a problem, he was a lieutenant after all. And yet here he was, every other day having to drag Lt. Stern home to make him go to bed or go eat instead of work all the time. He had heard the phrase ‘like herding cats’ and he think this was the closest he’s gotten. He knows for a fact the Captain had tried sending him home many times, and he was baffled as to how it didn’t work.

This week seemed to be one of the worse ones, prompting Hank to just bring the man a healthy lunch instead of dragging him out of his seat. Honestly he thought it better anyway. When did he become a sitter?

“Lieutenant, you should eat. It won’t do you any good if you don’t.” His voice was followed by the thump of a plastic container on the human’s desk, having had the foresight to make make something in advanced.

For the moment, Connor ignored him, typing away at his terminal like the world didn’t exist and it wasn’t coming back until he finished. But his quite focus was broken by the sight of plastic fingers on his monitor.

“If you do not eat, I will be forced to disable this until you do.” Hank was not putting up with Connor’s shit. 

It earned him a glare, Connor possibly thinking he can intimidate Hank off to let him work as he tried to push the container back to the HK. “I can eat later, I got another five files to get through.”

He didn’t get it moved far before the androids bear paw of a hand stopped him, pushing it back in front of him. “Eat. Work is going nowhere. However it will be if inaccessible you don’t.”

The Lieutenant seemed to realise he wasn’t going to win this, sighing as he scooted back his seat and took the box to eat. Not before throwing another glare at Hank for it though. Whatever, the HK knew damn well he was helping.

.

The week of over working was coming to a head when, during a drive back to Connor’s home, the idiot human nearly fell asleep at the wheel. Hank might not have been so worried if the twink didn’t have a love of a old manual car, which made the whole thing a pump stopper. Thankfully they made it in one piece and the HK manages to get the man inside.

Then Connor went to try and work. Again. He didn’t manage to get very far before Hank all but snatched the tablet and laptop up, putting them up as high as he could. Which the human cursed loudly about because it was NOT fair that Hank was that tall and could do that.

“No more work. You need food and rest.” He could see Connor about to protest, cutting him off with a hard glare. “If you try I will be forced to disable them.”

“I know how to reboot a-”

“And I will have Collin help me do it.” The Android knew damn well what was on his human’s laptop, his brother getting it would be a disaster and the thought of that alone was enough to shut him up.

Hank didn’t care for being so hard on the man but it was a necessary evil.

He knew he had won when Connor sighed, flopping down on the couch. “Can I at least have my fire noodles for dinner?” 

“Lieutenant, you need something substantial. You can’t live off of instant noodles.” It wasn’t the first time he had this argument, Connor really did have a habit of eating poorly.

Unlike all other times, however, Connor didn’t glare at him. In fact he seemed thoughtful. It was odd, Hank had expected more of a fight from him about his favorite food but he got nothing. Perhaps he was getting it through his thick head.

And then he crawled up on the couch, perching over the chair arm as he leaned up as far as he could go. Close enough that Hank could see the glow of his yellow led reflect off them big brown deer eyes he was caught in. “Please, Hank? It’s my favorite and it makes me very happy and warm.”

Good god the man was the of begging puppy. Eyes he almost only ever saw glaring as wide as can be, the little pout just barely sticking out. The HK heard from Niles that Connor had a ‘wicked puppy face’ but this was a bit much. He almost felt bad, no scratch that he did feel bad. He looked so sad at the thought of not being able to have the spicy food, and the android couldn’t bring himself to look away. 

Logically, as dictated by his coding to keep the man healthy for work, he knew he should tell the human to shove it and make something good to eat. On the other hand as he looked through a haze of red he just couldn’t bring himself to make the human upset, not like this. 

Resolve breaking like the fickle coding he figured what could it hurt? Connor had been working so hard all week and deserved something nice. Shoulders slumping, his led spun back to blue. “Fine, but just for tonight. But you have to actually eat proper in the morning, got it?”

Maybe it would be ok this time, and the big brown eyes of the happy puppy of a human were worth it.

[blackmissfrizzle]

The Dress

Characters: Angel Reyes x black!reader

Based off of this

Warnings: Self-esteem issues, Implied smut, angst, and fluff!!!

A/N: My first Angel fic and I’m in love. Also, I’ll probably use this same idea with different guys, so if you don’t like Angel, you may be getting someone different!

This time you were sure blood was drawn. What did you do to deserve such horrendous torture?

“Ouch, that hurt,” you complained, staring down at the perpetrator.

“If you’d be still, then it wouldn’t hurt,” Marisol sassed back.

“Oh god,” you muttered to yourself, which in return earned you a smack to your bottom. “Don’t use the good Lord’s name in vain!” Marisol scolded you.

Marisol better be lucky that you love her or otherwise you wouldn’t be doing her this favor. She was the best seamstress in Santo Padre and made you many dresses for the events your father dragged you to. So, when she asked you for a favor you weren’t hesitant.

Her granddaughter was getting married, but she lived in LA and wasn’t accessible for dress fittings. Luckily, you and her granddaughter had the same measurements, so Marisol asked if you could stand in for her and you agreed.

“Aw, mija you trying to become skin and bones?” She asked, feeling around your hips.

You palmed your face. Only Marisol would think losing a couple of pounds on your thick frame as a bad thing. “Don’t worry, Marisol. I won’t lose too much, so you can finish the dress.”

“I’m not worried about that! It’s Angelito that may have something to say.”

Rolling your eyes, you dared to ask the woman why she would even mention your best friend. “What does Angel have to do with this?”

“Because men want a woman with curves they can hold onto.”

“We’re just- ”

“Best friends,” Marisol finished for you. “Yeah, yeah yeah, you always say that. But the way he follows you around like a lost puppy dog, suggests otherwise.”

Just as you were opening your mouth for a witty retort, the roar of motorcycles announcing the arrival of the Mayans.

As usual Bishop was the first one through the door, flanked by Hank and Taza. The men first greeted Marisol, but soon noticed you. “Who’s the lucky guy and why haven’t we met him?” Bishop asked, opening up his arms for a hug.

Quickly Marisol swept Bishop’s arms away from your direction. “Don’t you dare get your dirty, greasy biker hands near my dress! And she’s not getting married, just a real life mannequin for my granddaughter.”

“Thank God! Don’t want Angel to have a heart attack,” Hank teased. You narrowed your eyes at him, as everyone in the room began to laugh.

The loud creaking of the front door notified you of more people coming in the house. “Woah, who knew you looked good in a dress?” Coco commented soon as he saw you.

“Screw you, Coco! I wear dresses all the time!”

“Yeah, to those fancy ass parties, never around us.”

Coco had a point. Around the Mayans you only wore jeans and t-shirts. You could relax with them unlike with your dad. He always had you prancing around and mingling at overrated parties, so he could gain more clients for his private security firm.

“Y/N, you look beautiful,” EZ said, pulling you from your thoughts. Next to him was his older brother, eyes wide open and mouth bobbing up and down, leaving you wondering if you looked horrible in the dress.

You thought you did the one armed dress service. The cinched waist hid your tummy and the ruffles gave you a princess flair. Also, white always looks good on brown skin, but maybe Angel thought otherwise. “Hey, second-best looking Reyes brother, what do you think?”

Instead of answering you, Angel bolted out the door. “He’s uh, still drunk.” EZ tried to excuse his brother, but the lie was unbelievable. You knew what a drunk Angel looked like and that Angel looked anything but drunk.

Marisol refused to let you follow him, stating some outdated nonsense like a woman never chases after a man. So you dutifully stood there, wondering did you look that bad, while the rest of the Mayans ate the food Marisol fixed for them and threatened to kick Angel’s ass for you.

Hours later you found yourself outside of the Mayans clubhouse. Angel wouldn’t respond to any of your texts and you were tired of being ignored.

You didn’t know the specifics, but you knew they closed some deal with another MC, Sons of something , you couldn’t recall. But they were celebrating the deal with an infamous Mayans party.

The lot was littered with motorcycles, bikers, barely dressed women and beer bottles. And inside the clubhouse it was no different.

EZ was at the bar pouring drinks instead of partying. He nodded to you and then pointed in the direction of where Angel was sitting.

Great, the man-whore had two biker bimbos in his lap. Each woman sneered at you when approached him. “Reyes we need to talk.”

“Not right now, Y/N.” Angel replied, not even glancing your way.

“Yeah, go away you big fat black cow,” one of the girls muttered.

Suddenly, the girl was on the ground with Angel standing over her, yelling at her to leave and never to come back. At least Angel never let anyone disrespect you, even if he did.

Deciding to wait him out, you went to the bar, where EZ had a drink waiting for you. “That guy’s a real asshole,” an unfamiliar voice interrupted your pity party.

“Huh,” you turned to the stranger. His kutte wasn’t like the Mayans, so he had to be from the other MC. On the corner it read ‘Prez’ then ‘SAMCRO.’ But his kutte didn’t hold your attention for too long, because his face was so damn beautiful. If you weren’t already half in love with Angel, you would’ve thought he was the best looking guy there.

“That guy’s an asshole for dismissing the most beautiful woman here. But I guess I would be intimidated by you as well.”

“Intimidated? No way, Angel’s not interested in me.”

The stranger pointed the end of his beer towards Angel, who was burning holes on the middle of his head. “Then why is he staring daggers at me?”

“He’s just overprotective.” You told yourself more than him. You couldn’t let yourself hope or you would be heartbroken if you learned Angel didn’t reciprocate your feelings.

The blonde man licked his lips and stared at you. “Wanna test that?”

It seemed the man had good intentions, but you never know with bikers. “How,” you asked suspiciously.

“Do you trust me, sweetheart?”

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Jax Teller, president of Sons of Anarchy.” He introduced himself, reaching for your hand for a handshake.

“Y/N Y/L/N, disgruntled best friend.” When you put your hand in his, he pulled you to him, mere inches from his face. Once again he asked if you trusted him and this time you shook your head yes.

In an instant Jax’s lips were claiming yours. He licked the seam of your lips, asking for access inside of your mouth and you granted it. His kiss was fiery and passionate, and you wished you could enjoy it more instead of wishing it was a certain Mayan.

Feeling a pair of hands on your shoulders, you thought it was Jax until you were pulled away. Looking up at the culprit, you saw stormy brown eyes that belong to Angel Reyes. Without saying a word he dragged you out and into EZ’s RV.

“What the fuck was that?” Angel screamed at you. You had to admit he was hot when he was angry, but you didn’t like when he was angry at you.

“It’s called kissing. And here I thought you got passed first base. Guess I was wrong.” Shrugging your shoulders you moved passed Angel to leave, but he quickly blocked your path.

“Why the fuck did you have your lips on another MC’s president? Specifically the one we’re doing business with. What, you want to be some white boy’s cum dump?”

Angel knee he fucked up when he saw the surprised reaction on your face, so he braced himself for what was coming next. Without disappointment, you decked Angel in the face. “Fuck you! How about you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me all day?”

Silently, Angel stood there contemplating if he should tell you the truth. Only thing was, he was taking too long. “Ok, nothing? I guess I’ll be keeping Jax’s bed warm tonight.”

“The dress,” he muttered weakly.

“What about the dress? Did I look that awful in it that you had to avoid me the rest of the day? Because if that’s the case, you’re a real shitty friend Angel Reyes. All you had to say is I looked bad in it.” You continued rambling on how he could’ve told you in different ways that he didn’t like the dress, until he interrupted you.

“Fuck no, querida! I was thinking the opposite!” Calming down, Angel led you to the table and knelt before you while you sat. “I was thinking about how I would love to see you in that dress walking down an aisle towards me. I was thinking about the kids we could have and the fun we would have making them. I was thinking about how I’m in love with my best friend, but I’ll never be enough for her because she deserves better.” At the end of his declaration, Angel laid his head in your lap and cried.

For a moment, his declaration left you stunned, but once you realized you hadn’t said anything, you confessed your own feelings. “I love you, Angel Reyes. And not as a best friend, but as the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.” Angel lifted his head up to make sure he was hearing you right. Cupping his face, you leaned your forehead against his. “I love you, Angel and if I ever hear you say you’re not good enough for me, I will personally put a cap in your ass. You hear me?”

“You know I get hard every time you threaten to physically hurt me?” He joked, obviously back to his old self.

Weakly you pushed him away, but he wouldn’t budge. “You’re disgusting, Angel!”

“But you love me anyway, like I do you.”

With your arms around his neck, playing with his hair, you replied, “Unfortunately, you’re right.”

Angel snuggled his face in the crook of your neck and began leaving a trail of kisses from your shoulder to your ear. “Dame un beso, querida.” He gruffly commanded into your ear.

Happily obliging, you gave Angel the kiss he asked for. His was much more enjoyable than Jax’s and you knew he ruined you for other men. Angel’s kiss was reminding you that you were always his and always will be. The kiss was stirring up desires, that you would have to apology to EZ for sating them in his RV. Sadly, a knock interrupted any future plans.

“Y/N, you ain’t kill him? It’s too quiet in there.” Coco’s muffled voice carried through. You both stood up and you were about to turn the door knob until Angel stopped you.

He took his kutte off and put it on you. “Just so everyone knows who you belong to. Especially Teller.”

You laughed at Angel’s possessiveness and kissed him quickly. “He was just helping me out.” Angel rolled his eyes, remembering the predatory look in Jax’s eyes when he saw you. “Really, babe. He wanted to see if he could get a rise out of you.”

“Yeah, well this tells him and everyone you’re off limits. Now open the door, before we let Coco loudly know I’m not dead.” He smacked your ass as you opened the door.

When the door completely opened, it revealed all of the Mayans and a couple of the Sons. All of them had smirks on their faces and you assumed it was at how crazy you looked. Your hair was flying everywhere and Angel had your brown lipstick on his lips.

Coco started a slow clap that eventually had all the Mayans joining in. Both you and Angel flipped them off, but they all just laughed it off.

“Angel’s finally got his head out from stuck up his ass. Just took another man taking interest in Y/N.” Bishop commented. Basically everyone had said the same thing and congratulated you two. The only disappointed ones were the girls who hung around the bar. Even Jax congratulated you two, but told you to him up if Angel messed up.

Throughout the night, you and Angel would randomly tell each other ‘I love you.’ And even though, you were hearing and saying it excessively, you knew you would never grow tired of it, because Angel was the one for you and vice versa.

Taglist: @cocooned-butterfly @titty-teetee @dannixchristian @ladydragonpurplefire @sincerelysinister @mrsamaroevans @honeychicana

[snowbellewells]

“A Cottage by the Sea” {Part Two}

I apologize now for the delay, but I had my second @cssns​ fic to post, a few family obligations and other things pulling at me. I will absolutely try to get this one back on a regular schedule after this, but for now, I’ll stop making excuses and let you get back to what has been happening to our shipwrecked sailor and the princess who loves him...  Enjoy!!

***Thank you SO much once again to @searchingwardrobes​ for the stunning artwork she made to accompany this story! I seriously can’t say enough how much I love it. <3***

Summary: Princess Emma has always been drawn to the shores of Misthaven, where the sea meets the shore near her parents’ castle. When an unknown boy washes up on the sand, with eyes as fathomless and blue as the waters that brought him to her, he soon becomes Emma’s best friend, her partner in crime, and her other half.  But the tides give and the tides take away, and as her blue-eyed boy sails in her father’s navy and risks all in defense of those who made him family, unexpected danger and challenge will try to tear them apart, and might well show him just where he came from that day he first appeared to her from the sea…”

Links to Previous Installments:   Prologue        Part One

Part Two

When Killian’s eyes opened once more, it felt as though he had been unconscious for ages. The grit he blinked away and the painful shock that the bright sun was to his retinas had him fighting not to close them again and float back into oblivion. It took a moment for the dizziness and disorientation that pressed down on his back to subside and for his shaking arms to support pushing up to a sitting position. His skin stung and stretched with the movement when he did so, and it was only then that Killian realized he had been sprawled out prone on some deserted stretch of sand, the naval uniform he’d donned so proudly stained and torn, and any exposed skin blistered red with sunburn.

Wincing, struggling not to vomit seawater and sand back up on himself, he began to recall a bit more of what had occurred, brushing a dark, saltwater-encrusted hank of his hair off his forehead as he tried to squint against the brightness assaulting him to get the lay of the land. There had been a terrible freak storm out on the water, blowing up suddenly as if conjured especially to attack their vessel and take it down. There had been no hope of navigating such a maelstrom - in spite of their best efforts. And then, he’d gone overboard in the rising waves… there was fire… and a whirlpool… It had swallowed the ship, and all his fellow sailors, whole, right before his eyes.

Trying to take stock of himself, Killian made sure his fingers, toes, legs, arms, all extremities seemed in order, and then managed to haul himself to his feet. He staggered a bit drunkenly at first, sensing he looked a bit like the old sea dogs seen at port, past their years of crewing a vessel and often lost in their cups, but forced himself to reach the minimal shade of a palm tree nearby and leaned against its trunk heavily, catching his breath.

There wasn’t much else to take in. As far as his sight carried in either direction, he saw only the isolated beach, the sea to one side crashing against the sand in unending rhythm and a thicker stand of trees farther inland on his other. At least there was some shelter from the blistering heat, he tried to comfort himself. But no signs at all of any habitation, or any other living beings.  The pounding waves, the rustling leaves overhead… and nothing else.

But wait… hadn’t there been a voice? Before, as he’d slid under the churning waves, he’d felt arms pulling him back to the surface. And there was… singing?

Killian blinked dazedly, shaking his head of such fanciful nonsense. Who would have been singing? For all he could tell, he was alone, on a deserted island. What he needed to focus on were not fevered mirages but finding some source of water, aloe for his burns if a plant could be located, and some sort of shelter before nightfall.

Heaving a sigh, the young lieutenant knew he needed to get to work if he wanted to have any sort of protection from the elements and any natives or wild animals he might encounter before nightfall. Trudging further from the crashing surf, Killian rolled up the damp and bedraggled sleeves of his white shirt, after quickly shedding the naval jacket, and tried to push aside the waterlogged fogginess of his head and the aches and pains of extremities that had been buffetted by waves and debris from the ship’s wreckage. He had more pressing concerns needing to be dealt with in short order.

Soon, he was pulling branches and underbrush to a flat spot of beach and attempting to weave them together in his best approximation of a canopy - both for shade and rain protection when he lay down to rest. He propped it up to form a sort of lean-to up the beach near the treeline using boards from the ship that had washed ashore near him. Killian tried not to focus on the fact that he saw no sign of the ship’s sails, lifeboats, or any of his fellow sailors. He knew they’d been swallowed by that unnatural whirlpool, and yet he couldn’t fully process it either. It didn’t seem possible that all other traces of the ship, the mission, and its crew had vanished in an instant, and that he was the only one left.

When finally he had what passed for a sturdy enough shelter in which to pass the night, Killian noticed while wiping sweat from his forehead that the sun was beginning its descent back down the western side of the sky. He needed to find fresh water to drink, and gather enough more brush to start a fire. By this point, his limbs were nearly numb from exertion and lack of water, but he couldn’t stop yet. He would be doomed if he lay down before accomplishing at least those two tasks. Grim determination in the fierce lines of his young face, Killian headed into the trees, in search of some stream or pool toward the island’s center. Something must support the vegetation after all.

He was too focused on the necessities before him to sense that he was being watched, though he was indeed. Kind eyes, void of malice, indeed aching to help him, if their mood could have been read, kept their distance, but yet drank in every movement and detail of the young survivor on the sand. Eyes that seemed so intent, so loving that they might never look away… and were as limitless and blue as Killian’s own.

~~***~~

At the same time, back in Misthaven, Princess Emma waited anxiously for her love’s return. Oh, she knew it might yet be some weeks before they could possibly sail to Agrabah and back - even with the fairest of winds and smooth sailing. Despite that rational knowledge however, her young heart aflutter with love newly voiced and emphatically returned couldn’t help counting the days, even the hours, until Killian’s ship made port once more, she could look upon his well-known and beloved face and fling herself into his arms.

She grinned mischeivously as soon as that image graced her mind’s eye. Killian himself would caution her not to do any such thing. He was self-assured and competent in his naval training, a confident sailor, secure in his position and satisfied that he had earned his rank among his peers. Still, much to Emma’s chagrin, he never seemed to forget that she was royalty- the sole heir to an entire kingdom - and that he was certainly not; in fact his origins were so completely unknown as to be a mystery even to him. Though the smallest quirk of his smile or wink from his eyes as they made faces behind the dance master’s back when Emma struggled with a step and he turned to demonstrate again with long-suffering sighs at the princess’ lack of natural grace, though even those tiniest of his familiar expressions could set her blood rushing and her heart to pounding, Emma knew Killian would be embarrassed if she were to be as brazen as she were tempted in her feelings for him in front of a crowd. If she really were to throw herself into his wiry, tanned arms and take the second kiss she had been dreaming of since the first ended at their parting in full public view, he would blush to the very tips of his honestly quite adorably pointed elfin ears. She had learned quickly over the years that he did not see himself as of the same standing as she and her family; no matter that he had been brought up as one of them since they found him, and her parents would no more think that way than she did, he would still fear tarnishing her standing or regard by choosing him as her match.

‘Utter nonsense!’ Emma snorted to herself with a frustrated shake of her head, a furrow of consternation creasing her brow. She wouldn’t stand for anyone to say or think such a thing; it was one of the first topics she meant to discuss with him as soon as they were reunited. Everything had happened so quickly once they had admitted their feelings to each other; he had been ready to set sail, and after such a breathless kiss and embrace, she had been struggling to regain her wits enough to speak at all.

Even days later, Emma blushed to think of their stolen moment as she ran a comb through her hair before twisting it into a long braid for comfort while she slept. Surely the messenger bird of her mother’s would return in the morning with an answer to the missive she had sent after her lieutenant. She had kept it short, but had yearned to let him know she would think of him every second he was gone and be counting the moments to their reunion. Queen Snow’s winged couriers never failed to locate their recipients - and often within a day or two, much quicker and more reliably than any sort of human post by land or sea yet devised.

With that encouraging thought buoying her spirits, the crown princess curled up on her side under the covers with the hope that she might receive a reply in her sailor’s own hand as early as the morrow. She slept that night with a smile on her face, dreaming of a crooked, playful grin and kind eyes as blue as the ocean itself.

On the morrow, Emma rose with the sun, well rested and full of energy, her mind recalling almost immediately her hope for the day. She paused at her vanity table only long enough to pull on and belt her dressing gown over the long, silken shift in which she slept, stuff her feet into slippers, and peer out her window at the perch with food to which their messenger birds were trained to return. Even the absence of the small creature didn’t dampen her spirits; it was early yet, and the day was young.

Not until she headed downstairs to break fast with her parents and godmother did anything occur to rattle her cheerful mindset. Their morning meal opened as usual with Granny bustling around them to place fresh-baked biscuits with newly churned butter and stewed apples for topping, along with fried ham slices, before them, and they all happily tucked into the simple but delicious repast. Ruby and her mother spoke animatedly on the possibility of whether or not Graham would actually allow himself to dance with Ruby at her birthday celebration and admit the mutual infatuation which had been clear between the queen’s guard and best friend for months, or if he would continue to linger on the sidelines keeping watch, as serious and solitary as always. It seemed as though the man were still paying penance for choices made long ago leading to his enslavement and forced allegiance to Snow’s wicked stepmother before he was freed. All of that had happened years ago, before Emma was even born, but she did often sense the captain of their royal guard carried some weight on his shoulders that never lessened. He had always been kind to her, doting even, teaching her survival skills when she had been yet a child to help her in case she were ever lost in the woods, or needed to hide in nature as a place of escape. As she had grown, he had often gladly shown her techniques to better her tracking and archery when her mother could not. All the same, even when the quiet, gentle Huntsman did smile, there was a haunted sadness still clouding his eyes. Emma was contemplating that even as she met her father’s humored gaze while her mother teased Ruby that she should wear her tightest corset and brightest red gown and not give Graham a chance to deny her a turn around the dancefloor. Her godmother had winked and given them all a devious smile in return, which Emma knew meant that their Huntsman was bound to get an eyefull he couldn’t resist, and their foursome had returned to quietly finishing their meal.

Once they had eaten all they could hold, her parents were standing to go to open court where they would hear the needs and requests of the people for the rest of the morning, telling Emma to join them whenever her morning’s lesson was completed, when an emissary of a neighboring kingdom hurried into the kitchen, led by her “Uncle” Grumpy and his rather suspicious usual grumbling face. The young man appeared not in the least daunted by the dwarf’s inhospital introduction, however. He looked only at the King and Queen, bowing and breathlessly offering a quick apology for the interruption. Emma paused as well on her way back upstairs to her tutor, curious for any word of things beyond their borders - both hopeful for news of Killian’s mission and fearing it, as news might well mean trouble and explanation for why her note had remained unanswered. Ruby waited at her elbow, as if also alerted by some sixth sense to the import this man’s tidings could bear.

“Nonsense, my friend,” King David reassured the young man as he smiled understandingly and nodded for him to proceed. “You are quite alright, what news do you have for us?”

Emma, however, had taken note of the young man’s attire - the livery of her parents’ friends Eric and Ariel, King and Queen of the neighboring maritime kingdom - and her stomach flip-flopped sickeningly, the premonition that his news might pertain to her sailor’s well-being growing all the stronger.

The courier dipped his head in respectful acknowledgement once more, but as he actually began to speak, Emma noticed that he pulled the cap from his head and began to nervously twist the material in his hands as he proceeded, clearly reluctant to offer the tidings that were in store. Emma tried to steel herself for whatever might be coming, but the slithering nausea moving through her frame warned her she might have only limited success. 

“My Lord and Lady bid me notify your Highnesses of the occurrence witnessed off the shores of some uncharted islands near the Echoing Seas on our kingdom’s border, two nights hence,” the messenger began hesitantly. “As you well know, our Queen Ariel has familial connections and contacts in the acquatic world, far beyond the scope of which my king’s merely human scouts would ever possess. On the night in question, one of Queen Ariel’s own sisters was nearly swallowed by a sudden and unnatural whirlpool that came out of nowhere. As she just barely pulled herself from the undertow that would have dragged her to the very depths - dangerous even to mer-people, apparently - she saw a ship sucked into its vortex. She was reluctant to report, as you can imagine, knowing our leader’s friendship and allegiance with your Majesties, that she recognized Misthaven’s flags on the doomed ship, as well as numerous sailors onboard, fighting for their lives. According to Princess Arista, the entire vessel and all its visible passengers were subsumed within moments of the typhoon’s appearance.”

The young man’s head fell to stare at the floor as his report finished, knowing it was dire news to digest, and yet clearly well-trained enough to wait for a reply or further instructions, no matter how awkward. Emma felt herself struggling, gulping for air as she blindly stumbled to one of the kitchen stools they had vacated before she collapsed to the floor.  ‘No,’ her mind was repeating blankly, ‘It cannot be...not Killian…’ even as a dizzying haze seemed to obstruct her senses, clouding her surroundings and setting up a dull roar in her ears that made all other sounds fade to a distant hum. Ruby was immediately at her side, a soothing hand stroking her hair like the woman had often done when Emma was small and woke from a nightmare, when the werewolf’s keen hearing made her godmother the only one aware and who always slipped through the silent and darkened halls of the castle to comfort her.

She knew her parents must be looking to her in concern as well - asking if she was alright - but with the strange echo resounding in her head she couldn’t hear them clearly. As the monarchs, obviously, they would be saddened for the loss of all aboard the ship, and would keenly feel the responsibility for each death, not just Killian’s. It had been an official mission, and as such her parents would bear a weighing burden, though they could have had no way of knowing such a tempest would appear.

After some long minutes of heavy silence, the emissary prompted gently, “Your Majesties? Will there be any reply?”

Her father spoke then, moving forward to shake the man’s hand and give him thanks for bringing them news so promptly and accurately, before rumors and falsehoods could spread. Though he spoke with the same calm assurance she had always known, there was a quaver of emotion in King David’s words that couldn’t be ignored for one who knew him as well as his only daughter. Though she was far from being clearly focused and taking in all that was being said around her, Emma knew from experience that he must be expressing their hope that he would return their gratitude and good will to Ariel and Eric, along with the hope that they would notify them of any further developments regarding the storm and its aftermath, and that the rider would partake of food and drink before returning to his own kingdom.

Once it seemed that the newcomer was leaving their presence, alone at last with only those loved ones she had known all her life, Emma slumped further in her seat, nearly boneless in the devastation attempting to spread throughout her being. Head in shaking hand, Emma tried to console herself, repeating that he must have escaped the ship sometime before “Auntie” Ariel’s sister saw the craft’s demise. He could not simply be gone from this earth and she feel no different. Surely she would have known…

However, just before the man exited the room, he turned back with a remembered afterthought. “One last thing, my lieges,” he added, almost sheepishly. “My Lord and Lady were unsure whether or not to include this supposition in their notification, as many outside our borders do not believe in the craven villain and view him as a mere character of legend and imagination, but rumors have been increasing for weeks now of more frequent and violent attacks from the sea demon Davy Jones. No one had died, merely property taken or destroyed and many frightened. But reports have been fragmented at best and wildly varied. We were uncertain whom to pursue, or how to accomplish the pursuit. But now King Eric seems resolved that it must indeed be Davy Jones. He and the Queen know of no other who could have whipped up such a sudden and powerful storm to swallow a ship in the blink of an eye. They are still debating how to rebuff future insurrections, but intend to answer his treachery. Take from that what you will.”

Emma had straightened in her seat as this last announcement was made. Her senses seemed to clear as she heard her mother thank their visitor this time with benevolent grace and ask him to assure his Queen that she would contact her soon, even as her capable hands prepared bread and cheese with some cakes for him to take before he did at last leave on his return journey. The princess’ will was somehow galvanized once more by the idea of Davy Jones’ scurrilous role in their ship being wrecked. It gave her something to cling to, right or wrong, in the knowledge that perhaps her love was not lost as the rest must believe. All who did believe Davy Jones and his cursed crew and ship existed, knew that they prowled the sea, taking ships and sailors as plunder, indenturing them to sail as additional ill-fated hands on his Flying Dutchman. Though it was horrific to contemplate, and she shuddered imagining Killian once more trapped and forced into servitude as he had been before they met, she drew some resolve from the knowledge that if he still existed somewhere, he could be found and rescued. She would not rest until she found a way.

~~***~~

As he continued to move through the dense vegetation, Killian was surprised  at his own relatively calm thinking after all which had occurred, but he simply knew he had no choice but to keep his senses about him. True, his first instinct upon waking had been to scream and rail at the gods of sea and sky, shed tears for his lost comrades and lie down on the sand in defeat. Part of him still wanted to take off swimming frantically in hopes of reaching land, but going blindly without knowledge if there were any to reach was a futile fool’s errand. He must focus on what he could do if he were to survive.

If he explored the entire expanse of this seemingly uninhabited island, and found no lake or stream, he could try to boil the most of the salt from the ocean water over his firepit - but it would be a painstaking and continuous chore if it could be avoided. And so doggedly Killian moved toward the center of the island, further and further into the trees. He could only hope he wasn’t traveling further from the safety he had been provided so far, but he would not survive long in the heat and the elements without a potable water source. It was one of the first points of wilderness survival he had been taught in the case of shipwreck, marooning or capture. There was always the danger of unknown wildlife, injury on unfamiliar terrain, or becoming lost, but his sense of direction had always been admirable - it was one of the first things which had won him praise from commanding naval officers - and he really had no other recourse.

Soon he was blazing a trail through the low-hanging vines and branches, doing his best to slice brambles and brush from the way before him and create a path. If he did indeed find some freshwater pool or stream, he would want to have a clear way back and forth between it and his rough campsite. Killian was holding out hope that there must be something of the sort because there was such a wealth of greenery and growth; it had to be supported somehow.

The heat seemed to climb higher with every step; the humidity wrapping around him and seeping down his throat with a stifling heaviness, but Killian pressed on. He was in excellent health and fitness - his naval training had seen to that - but he still came to feel as though he had been plodding through this relative jungle for hours, his arms and feet burning and feeling heavier with every step, his light, loose shirt clinging to his torso with the sweat that ran over his skin, stinging in his eyes and the numerous cuts and scrapes he bore from the wreck.

He had just promised himself he would sit to catch his breath soon, when he broke through an especially dense stand of trees and scrub brush to hear the sound of rushing water and glimpse the light of sun off a liquid surface just ahead. Hurrying forward once more, rejuvenated in his excitement and relief, Killian broke through the canopy to find a pool fed by a small waterfall in an open clearing.

Thankful for the blessing in his stranded situation, Killian left the trees and rushed to the edge of the pool to throw himself on the ground and plunge his hands into the clear, calm water. Breathtakingly cold and bracing, Killian reveled in its refreshment, splashing it onto his face, his hair, the back of his neck before cupping his hands together to bring the water to his lips and drink greedily - one, two, and three times. 

Lying prone on the bank for a minute when he finished drinking, trying to cool off slightly and catch his breath, Killian closed his eyes, thanking God that he did find the fresh water he needed to press on. Now that he wasn’t moving, hacking and fighting through the dense growth, he could take a moment to feel the worry abate slightly and gather his resolve once again. For the moment, he at least had the jug on his belt to take some water back to his shelter, but he would search the beach again upon his return for any washed up wreckage, hopefully to yield him some larger bowl or pot, some container to hold more water from a trip to this clearing. He hated to be away from the shore for too long, knowing he also needed to start some sort of signal fire which could be seen by any passing ships out at sea, and he did not wish to miss any rescue vessel which might be sent to look for his ship and fellow sailors. Certainly he didn’t overvalue himself, but he did regret the knowledge that his princess would be worried for him. She had almost undoubtably already sent him messages he had not received, and she would be at a loss for why he had failed to respond.

Still, he would count himself grateful for this moment’s success and do what he could to find his way back to her. Rising to his knees, he pulled out his water skein and uncapped it to dip into the water and fill. As the lip of the bottle broke the surface, however, Killian felt a current run through his limbs, intense, but not unpleasant, instead calming and strangely peaceful.  Looking over his shoulder and to both sides, he took stock of the forest he had left and the clearing all around him, but all remained as quiet and undisturbed as before.

Forcing himself not to succumb to flights of fantasy, Killian returned to his task with an inner admonishment against imagining things. Yet again, as soon as his fingers dipped into the water, he had the same enveloping impression that he was no longer alone, that a presence he had encountered before was somehow nearby. Out in the center of the pool, almost at the foot of the gentle waterfall, ripples began to spread in ever-widening circles, drawing always closer to the bank where he crouched warily.

It was then he picked up another sound, one that did not fit in with running water, rustling breezes, birdcall and the buzz of hovering insects. Once more, as it had the previous night when he’d nearly drowned, it sounded as though someone were singing. No one was around, and as before, common sense chided that it must be in his head, but the voice was so beautiful, so full of almost supernatural comfort, that it could not be ignored.

As he continued to watch the ripples widen, the pool’s surface was broken in their midst, some six or seven feet from him. Slowly, with liquid grace a head broke the water, followed by the shoulders, torso, and eventually the full form of an inexplicably familiar woman, who emerged from the depths fully and seemingly walked upon the water to stand before him with affectionate, beguiling smile.

Though anyone else observing the scene would have been struck immediately by the resemblance this lovely creature bore to Killian himself, the young lieutenant was a bit too stunned to recognize the uncanny similarities. She was slim and poised, dark hair the same shade as his streamed down her back to nearly reach her hips, and unique pointed tips to her ears also resembled Killian’s that Emma had so often tweaked and playfully joked about him being half an elf. Perhaps most remarkable of all though were her deep, oceanic blue eyes, framed with long, dark lashes, drinking him in as if Killian were every bit as awe-inducing to her as she was to him. Those eyes so like his own, made Killian swallow hard at how much the color and shape and the warmth of emotion in them as they studied him reminded him viscerally of Liam. 

What sorcery was this? Who was this being? And how did she come to be here? Why was she here before him?  So much was invading his mind at once that it took Killian several more beats to realize that her lips were moving, and only when they stopped did the song he had heard cease. She was the one singing the night before, the notes in his ear as he had been plucked from the murderous waves.

“You,” he breathed, blinking rapidly as he again found his voice. “You saved me. Why? And who… who are you?”

The look on that ethereal face turned unbearably sad. Her musical voice whispered brokenly, “Oh, my dear, I had feared you would forget. Don’t you know me, Killian? … I’m your mother.”

Tagging some shipmates who have enjoyed before: @searchingwardrobes​ @kmomof4​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @jennjenn615​ @capswantrue​ @therooksshiningknight​ @spartanguard​ @tiganasummertree​ @captainkillianswanjones​ @teamhook​ @revanmeetra87​ @lfh1226-linda​ @tornadoamy​ @bubblegum1425​ @hookswan25​ @gingerchangeling​ @courtorderedcake​ @jarienn972​ @nikkiemms​ @thisonesatellite​ @artistic-writer​ @hollyethecurious​ @stahlop​ @winterbaby89​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @thislassishooked​ @laschatzi​ @kday426​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ 

[fandom-necromancer]

Enemies to lovers in 3.6 seconds

This was prompted by an awesome anon! Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900

Detroit’s fifth police department was occupying Willis Show bar. The last time they had celebrated like that had been on Christmas. All other occasions, birthdays, promotions, retirement, were celebrated in personal circles, not with the full team. But this time, it was different. Being the precinct with the most android officers, the anniversary of the day androids were granted their freedom was something special. In the far back, the SWAT team played darts. Sixty’s team had been winning until the loosing team had decided to get him something to drink and interfere with that perfect accuracy. Hank, Connor, Captain Fowler and the other Lieutenants had gathered at the largest table, mostly talking and joking. And of course, there was what people quickly called the kids-table: Gavin with Tina and Chris, Nines sitting with them as there hadn’t been any space for him with his brother and he was the Detective’s partner. He had been told he could join them soon, as officer Person planned on leaving early. But at the moment, it looked very much as if the man would never leave: drinking beer after beer and showing no sign of stopping.

The overall atmosphere was fine, even cheery, with the occasional victory scream from the darts-section and the laughter of the bigger table setting the general mood. That was until a heated discussion began growing in volume and aggression: ‘You can’t just phcking say that!’, Gavin claimed, anger evident on his face. ‘You were in maintenance half week, that case was clearly on my count!’ ‘Yeah and the half week I was there we made most of the progress’, Nines held against it. ‘Just agree that you are useless without an android by your side.’ ‘Useless?!’, Gavin shouted lost for words. ‘Useless?! I’m sorry, but I was in this job as you were still some wet dream of some bottom technician! I have more experience than any of your kind!’ ‘That is all you humans have going for you, huh?’, Nines hissed lowly. ‘Experience. What is that even? We have been programmed to do our jobs. You get pushed into a world and spend your first two decades useless learning basic facts and rules. How dare you even think you are superior to us?’ ‘Oh, but you are?’, the Detective growled. ‘Where’s the equality shit now, hmm toaster? Or do you just fake that so no one runs away screaming when they see you?’ He grinned evilly, knowing exactly where to strike next. ‘Are you afraid people will realise what you are? What you were meant to be? That you are a phcking terminator unable to feel a thing? No compassion, no love, nothing. The only thing you know how to do is killing!’

Nines stood at that last roar that had silenced the rest of the bar. ‘What did you say?’, he whispered with a calm that promised bloodshed. ‘I said, you are nothing more than a gun’, Gavin repeated, standing up himself. ‘A tool that is convinced it is a living being!’

At that point, Tina looked like she wanted to interrupt their shouting match, but Gavin and Nines exchanged looks that would kill. A drunken Gavin really wasn’t someone you wanted to get on the wrong side of and drunken Nines seemed to be even more intimidating than his normal collected self. Despite better knowledge, Tina didn’t dare to step in between and backed down. But Hank didn’t: Standing up from the larger table and turning towards them, he shouted louder than either of them before: ‘Reed! You either fucking behave or you two leave! No one wants to hear your anti-android shit, especially not today!’

Gavin had turned to Hank, a curse on his lips, but eyeing Fowler directly next to him, he showed enough brain power to swallow his words. ‘You know what? I will. Couldn’t care less about the tin-cans either way.’ He stepped to the side and hurried for the exit, as Nines shook his head, still agitated. ‘Gavin, I’m not done with you yet!’ ‘Well, I am!’, Gavin shouted back and left through the door. ‘You goddamn-‘, Nines muttered but fell into his wide stride and followed the Detective outside.

-

The silence afterwards settled heavy on the bar and made Connor even more nervous than before, as he had seen his brother growing more and more angry with the asshole Detective. The conversations around him had already resumed, as he had made up his mind and excused himself: ‘I’m sorry, I have to check on them. Either Gavin is dead, or Nines lost his thirium regulator and is bleeding out, none of that is something we want to see tonight.’ ‘My money’s on Gavin dead’, Tina cheered, her voice slurred from the alcohol, as Connor jogged past.

-

Nines was ready to kill. Just here outside the bar there were no witnesses and a body in some side street to it would be taken for some unconscious drunkard for long enough so he could leave the country. The only question was whether getting rid of Gavin was worth it. And he was still angry enough that his immediate reaction to that was a yes.

He had caught up to Gavin quickly and grabbed him by the back of his jacket, ready to jolt him back. He hadn’t expected the human to shrug out of it in one fluid motion, but adapted in an instant, taking his shirt next. He pulled him back with all his strength and pinned him against a wall, not at all caring if the brick wall in his back hurt him on impact. He stared at Gavin, fury in his eyes, where Gavin was still defiant. Instead of showing fear in the eye of a war-machine threatening him, Gavin stood tall – well, as tall as he could – and pushed his jaw forwards in accusation. ‘What. Do. You. Want?’, He pressed past his teeth and glared at the android. Nines in turn tried to stare him down, showing no sign the Detective’s intimidation had any effect on him. They looked each other in the eyes, until Nines had forgotten he had been about to end this man’s life just seconds ago. Until he had realised too late, he was lost in these grey-green eyes that dared him to try anything. Nines could beat the man into a bloody pulp without breaking a sweat and Gavin knew that, still the human stood his ground and challenged him.

Nines caught his eyes wandering to the scar on the other’s nose and followed it further down to the chin where it wasn’t as easily detectable for most humans. He got stuck on the human’s lips, slightly chipped from the cold now and just a tiny bit parted. Nines hadn’t realised he had licked his own lips, but Gavin certainly did, as his heartbeat quickened. In a sudden burst of energy, the human reached up to Nines’ uniform and pulled him down on his lips. It was a hard kiss, neither careful nor pleasant nor expected, but all the more needy. Nines was close to reposition the hand from the man’s shoulder to his throat to make it stop, but consciously stopped himself. This… This was…

He answered the until then one-sided kiss and leaned closer, convincing himself he was essentially trapping the human in between the wall and his body, when in reality Gavin wasn’t anywhere close to even think of escaping. The android pulled back his lips, letting teeth clash and only allowed himself to get softer as the human was in need for air. Gavin gasped for it, when they finally separated and Nines allowed it for just a moment, gracefully swooping up the human’s jacket and throwing it around the Detective to pull him close again and resume. ‘Phck. Nines! You asshole!’, Gavin protested, but Nines shut him up quickly. ‘Quiet, human’, he mumbled, directing Gavin to a corner and pressing his knee between his legs. ‘You started this.’ Gavin bared his teeth in a hiss: ‘And you be damn sure you have no say in the matter when to stop!’ ‘That we will see…’, Nines whispered in his ear, completely lost at that point.

-

‘-You asshole!’ Connor startled at the curse. That was Gavin’s voice. So definitely not dead yet. But how about Nines? ‘Quiet, human.’ Okay, Connor re-evaluated his first thought. Gavin may not be dead… yet. Only then he turned around the first corner and saw Nines crowding Gavin against a wall holding him confined in the small space by wrapping the Detective’s leather jacket around him. Connor froze as he saw his brother angle his body and pressing his leg in between the smaller man’s. That… Gavin was allowing it. They were whispering something to each other, but Connor was too frozen to take notice of what words they spoke. The only thing he did see was that Nines bowed down for a kiss and repositioned his left hand to hold both sides of the jacket in one. His now free arm was trailing down the human’s body and his flat hand found its way under his shirt. Gavin squirmed, but their kiss only got deeper, and he saw the man press against the hand on his heated skin.

Connor couldn’t believe what was going down right in front of his eyes. Nines, his brother, was making out with Gavin Reed, the one he had just fought with and seemingly had been ready to kill. He was kissing the guy that had pointed a gun at Connor multiple times and at himself too. The precinct’s asshole who used every chance to annoy and start a fight with someone. The idiot everyone wondered how he still stayed employed. It… It was simply impossible and yet it just happened right here.

A moan that wasn’t even attempted to be stifled, brought him out of his shocked state and Connor darted. He had never been as fast in his life as he was now, sprinting around the corner, opening the door and falling down at his table. His haunted expression instilled worry in most faces, but it took a while until someone asked: ‘What happened?’ ‘Trust me, you don’t want to know’, Connor muttered staring straight ahead. Then his head snapped up and life came back to him. He looked miserable. ‘Both are still alive, but believe me as a loving brother, I wish they weren’t.’