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cloudlessly-light · 4 months

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was wondering if you could write something (whether a one-shot or a multiple chapters if you feel inspired) about a hotchniss affair where hotch is still married but his marriage isn’t like falling apart like it is most of the other fics with this plot. emily’s dirty self likes that he’s married and is fine with it being a casual arrangement. dom hotch and the usual angsty kinky nonsense.

A/N: Hi everyone! Another Hotchniss multi-chapter fic is coming your way based on asks from Tumblr. I would also like to add, that I do NOT condone cheating, I’m a firm believer that if you’re going to cheat then just break up. But with that said, I got this request and I ran with it, because I immediately got a multi chapter story idea. (And for some reason I excuse these two cheating because they’re meant to be.) I also am very aware that cheating isn’t everyone’s thing so please don’t read this if it triggers you, but to those of you who might, please let me know what you think because I need to know if I should continue this or not. Happy reading!

Title: Love like mine (1/11) Chapter title: Sugar on my lips, all it takes is one hit Summary: He wasn’t a cheater. Until her. Word count: 3,4k Rating: Explicit Warnings (for this chapter): Smut, dirty talk, fingering, cheating

Aaron was never the type of man who had affairs, was never the type of man who saw the appeal of it. It wasn’t that he didn’t notice beautiful women, it wasn’t that he hadn’t had numerous opportunities to be unfaithful, but it wasn’t him.

Until her.

She walks into his office at a time when he’s feeling out of control in his life and the attraction was instant. Her dark eyes and a smile that held a secret in it, the way her hand squeezed his as she greeted him something that was practiced to perfection. She radiated confidence, until he turned her away. That’s when he saw it, the flash of determination and he knew the woman before him was unlike most others he’d known.

He’s proven right when she’s waiting for him as he gets back from a case days later and when he agrees for her to stay he can see that same look of determination in her eyes.

When he drove home that night, he couldn’t stop thinking her, that should have been his first warning.

Emily never imagined herself lusting after a married man, had never thought of herself as a cheater or someone’s mistress. But the first time she shakes his hand she couldn’t shake the feeling of want, something primal, something she hadn’t experienced before. Even as a gold band gleamed back at her from the way his hand rested at his side, she wanted him. She should care more that he’s married, she knows she should, but for some reason she doesn’t.

Instead it only makes her want him more.

He was something forbidden, something off limits in more ways than one. It doesn’t help that he’s blatantly dismissing her in the beginning, because to her it only makes him more of a challenge. She knew she was smart and capable, knew she was an asset to the team and when she proves herself time and time again, she can feel his eyes on her. He looks at her with some type of fascination, like she’s some kind of enigma he wants to figure out.

And she had no problem letting him.

It’s been a few months of working together when she touches him with purpose for the first time, her fingers ghosting over the top of his hand as she’s handing him the file in her hand. He notices, an eyebrow raising in question and she doesn’t look away, only lets the corner of her mouth lift into a wry kind of smile.

“Have a good night, Hotch.”

“You too.” He says, voice low and raspy and Emily imagines what he would sound as she wrenched pleasure from his body.

Aaron watches her leave his office with a deep ache in his gut, desire and guilt twisting together as he does. It’s a feeling he’s grown used to, because his attraction towards his subordinate was unmistakable. But he wasn’t a cheater, he reminded himself.

The second time she lets herself touch him, he’s helping her practice for her firearms exam. She didn’t really need the help, she was an excellent shot, but he had offered and she didn’t turn him away. He’s correcting her stance, helps her square her shoulders and she’s sure his hands are warm enough to burn through her shirt. It makes her want to squeeze her thighs together to relieve some of the pressure between her legs.

“Are you ready?” He asks over her shoulder and she’s sure he doesn’t need to stand as close to her as he does. It makes her shiver, his proximity making her mind hazy.

She refocuses on the gun in her hand and fires, hits the target dead center and as she turns her head back to look at him, she moves her hips back just enough to press quickly against his.

It's just a second, but it’s enough and Aaron backs away without a word. But she doesn’t miss the way his eyes linger on her body as she turns back to fire again.

They don’t talk about it, the attraction that only seems to get worse between them, even after longing stares and innuendos hidden in conversations.

The third time there’s no mistaking what she’s doing. It’s reckless, some would even call it stupid. They’re out at a bar, all of them except Jason, and she’s spent the night talking to Haley, his wife, and still she goes after him as he excuses himself to go to the bathroom.

She shouldn’t, but she doesn’t care. She hadn’t cared from the start and with alcohol in her system it seemed liked the last of her resolve had faded. He doesn’t expect it, so it’s easy for her to push him into a dark corner, away from the team, away from Haley.

“What are you doing Prentiss?” He huffs as he looks around them for anybody they know.

“Do you love her?” She asks, one hand pressed against his chest and her breath against his face.

“I do.” He answers and for some reason it makes her lip curl into a smile and she leans into his body, lets his feel her chest against his and her lips against his ear.

“That’s too bad.” She whispers and he closes his eyes tight in a vein attempt to ignore the pull of arousal in his groin. When he opens them again, she’s gone, already heading back towards the table they had been sitting at.

And he knows he’s screwed.

They’re called away that same night, and it’s a case that will haunt all of them for a long time. After the case is closed and they’ve all landed back in DC, he can’t go home. He’s too wound up, too angry, too much of everything he can’t bring home to his wife. He’s feeling out of control again, a feeling he cannot stand.

It doesn’t surprise him that he ends up sitting in his car outside of her apartment building. It’s been months leading up to this moment, months of barely concealed want toward the brunette with dark eyes and a smile hiding a secret. He debates with himself for minutes, counts every reason why he shouldn’t go into that building, and yet, his body seems to have a mind of its own. Somehow this feels like he’s taking some control back.

He leans against her doorframe after he’s knocked, knows that to anybody else he probably looks imposing as he stands there. But not to her.

She opens the door with a look of understanding, something close to smug as she mimics his stand and leans against the frame too.

“It’s late.” She says and the way the brown eyes gleam with satisfaction causes the familiar stirring in his abdomen.

“I know.” He pushes past her into the apartment and takes his coat off without prompting. “I couldn’t go home.” When he turns to look at her again, she has closed the door and is leaning against it.

“Let me guess, you had a fight with your wife and you came here?” She studies him as he takes two long steps towards her, crowding her space as he stands too close.

“No, I didn’t have a fight with my wife but it didn’t stop me from coming here anyways.” The way his voice has dropped low makes heat flare in her belly, because she knew she was about to get everything she had wanted since that first day in his office. He’s staring down at her, towering over her without her heels. His pupils are dilated, lips parted and when he licks his bottom lip she wants to tug that same lip between her teeth.

“Why?” She whispers and suddenly his hands are on her hips, pushing her harder against the door as she gasps.

“You know why.” He lets his lips ghost against hers as he keeps her pinned against the door. “Should I leave?”

“Probably.” She lets out a breathy, humorless chuckle as her hand comes to rest on the back of his neck, her fingers gripping the short hair there. “But you don’t want to.”

“Let me get two things straight.” He moves his hands from her hips and grips her wrists tightly. When she willingly follows his movements as he pins them above her head, he smiles at the rush it gives him. “One, if we do this, I’m the one in charge.” She sucks in a breath and Aaron feels another rush of arousal tingle down his spine as she nods. “And two, I’m not leaving Haley, do not expect me to.”

“You think I believe in fairytales and happy endings?” She snickers but his hands tighten around her wrists. “Don’t worry, it’ll be our little secret.”

It’s another second of his eyes staring into hers, another second of deliberation. But the line is already crossed, even if he walks away he knows he’ll end up right back where they are. Because he wanted this, wanted her.

When he kisses her, he hears the soft mewl coming from her and he presses even closer to her. His tongue pries her lips apart and she succumbs to him almost too easily. But then he feels the way she bites down on his bottom lip, hard, and he pulls back with a hiss.

The smirk on her lips matches the filthy look in her eye when he looks down at her again and even if he wasn’t already sure about this, the way she was looking right then would be his undoing. She’s still pinned against the door, her cheeks are the softest shade of pink, her breathing already ragged and he bites back groan.

“Are you just going to stand there staring at me?” Her voice is thick with arousal when she speaks, her words falling in soft puffs against his cheek as she does. “Didn’t think you’d be so passive.” The way he all put crashes his lips against hers makes her entire body heat up.

“So you like pushing buttons outside of the office too I see.” He mumbled against her mouth as he lets go of her wrists, only to pull her flush against him. “Where’s the bedroom?”

Their clothes fall in messy piles as they move towards her bedroom, hands are searching, lips are tasting, and by the time they’re upstairs Emily is completely naked and reaching for his boxers. He lets her push them down, but as she makes a move to kneel on the floor, his fingers tightens around her waist and he pushes her down on the bed. His eyes rake over the pale skin and soft curves, catches the metallic gleam in the soft lights and realizes that her nipples are pierced. He groans at the sight, takes in rosy nipples and the flush that’s spreading across her cheeks and down her neck. She was just as beautiful as he had imagined.

“What are you waiting for?” She breathes as she moves further up on the bed and to her satisfaction he follows her with a look close to wild, barely restrained want reflecting back at her.

“You’re very impatient.” He mumbles against her ear, one hand moving between them to hike her leg up. She’s more flexible than he thought. “We’ll work on that.” The low rumble of his voice vibrates against her and she bites back a moan. He keeps her leg around his waist as he moves down her body to suck one of her nipples, his groan muffled against soft skin as his tongue rakes over the piercing. Then he moves to the other one, bites down gently as she arches into his touch with a sigh.

“Hotch I-” Her words are cut off by his fingers moving between her legs, thick fingers almost too rough against her clit, circling slowly as he lifts his head and watches with a grin as her jaw goes slack and her head falls back. “Fuck me.” She gasps, she had wanted this for months, she couldn’t imagine waiting another moment.

“Not yet.” He snickers at the way she almost whines in disappointment, the sound quickly changing to a guttural moan when he pushes two thick fingers inside of her. Her walls cling to his fingers, hot and slick and he bites down on her neck to keep his own groan at bay. He curls his fingers, pushes them deeper and scissors them until she gasps and her fingers dig into his shoulder. “There it is.” The satisfaction in his voice as she grinds into his hand is unmistaken and he watches as her eyes flutter closed and she bites her bottom lip hard to keep from being too loud.

The sound of her slick was obscene, would make her feel embarrassed if it didn’t feel so good. Her leg is still hooked around his waist, her hips moving up to get even more friction and as the pressure in the pit of her stomach builds, she can’t do much else but to cling to him. She could hear him, mumbling praise against her ear, felt his lips and tongue as he kissed, liked and bit down on her neck. He was everywhere and she was finally getting what she had been craving for so long.

“I’m close.” Her voice sounds foreign in her ears, raspy and low and it makes him smile into her neck.

“You’re clenching my fingers so good, I can’t wait to feel you get this tight on my cock.” When she moans in response he grins, the power rush of having Emily like this, desperate and pliant and yearning, close to maddening. “Is that what you want? To have me fuck you until you can’t remember your own name? To make you come until you’re begging me to stop?” He grinds the palm of his hand against her clit and pushes his fingers harder inside of her.

“Yes, yesyesyes!” She cries out as she falls over the edge, her orgasm intense enough to make her entire body strain as the pleasure takes her over. He doesn’t stop what he’s doing, moves his fingers until she’s heaving for breath and loud moans turns into softer whimpers.

Aaron couldn’t believe how absolutely stunning she was as she gave into him, his eyes fastened on the way her face tensed in pleasure, how her eyes rolled back as she completely succumbed to him. And he knew he needed to see it again.

“Let’s do that again.” He mumbled against her lips before kissing her. Her tongue quickly found his, so focused on his lips on hers that she barely registered how he shifted above her. It wasn’t until the tip of him was notching against her entrance that she pulled away from his lips.

“I’m clean, and on the pill.” She whispered to his wordless question as both her legs wrapped around his hips. “Fuck me like you haven’t fucked your wife in years.”

Her words should make him angry, but they only turn him on, some twisted sense of depravity settling in his gut. And with that, he pushes forward, a grunt on his lips as he feels her slick walls around him.

“Fuck.” He groans, forehead falling onto her shoulder as he lets himself enjoy the way she feels around him. Hot, wet, tight. When he starts to move it’s with none of the care he usually takes, it’s rough and hard and then Emily is gasping against his neck, her labored breaths clammy against his skin. “Tell me how it feels.” He hisses against her ear, his teeth biting down on the lobe.

“So good.” She moans as her heels dig into his ass, wanting him deeper. “You’re huge.” When she feels him smile into her neck she clenches around him, not wanting him to think he has all the power.

“I know baby.” It was dumb, the pride he felt at her words, but they weren’t untrue and he knew that. “You’re taking my cock so well, you’re so good for me.”

The bed creaks with their movements, mixing with their breathless moans and groans. Hands move over sweaty skin, lips find new places to taste and kiss. It’s messy, filthy, exactly like she had imagined it would be. She comes again with his hand between their bodies, rubbing her clit with precise movements. When she gasps his name she can feel the way his hips stutter.

He doesn’t let her come down, keeps her beneath him as his fingers move faster over her clit, his hips strong against hers even as he feels his own release getting closer.

“Look what a good girl you are for me.” He muses as she trembles from overstimulation, her hands twisted in sheets to keep from digging into his skin. Her dark eyes are hazy and heavy-lidded when they meet his and he swears he’s never seen something sexier than Emily Prentiss, drunk on him. “You like that huh? Being good for me?”

“Don’t get used to it.” She sees the satisfied smirk on his lips, knew that he liked the challenge and she wouldn’t be giving in to him like this every time, no matter what he thought. “I want you to come in me, I want to feel the ache of you tomorrow.” She feels his fingers speed up even more against her clit, his hips jerking against hers and she whimpers.

“Filthy thing.” He groans before crashing his lips against hers. It’s messy, teeth clashing and more tongue than lips but the taste of her is enough to send him over the edge. The sound that leaves him as he comes is stuck somewhere between a howl and a growl, her name a snarl on his lips as he gives in to the pleasure of his orgasm.

The heat of his release is enough to make her come for a third time, his fingers still on her clit dragging it out until she’s twitching away from his touch. He’s panting above her, his body heavy and sweaty as he collapses on top of her, after-shocks making him twitch against her. She gently strokes her hand over his back, gives him a few moments to come down before nudging him off her.

“That was better than I thought it would be.” He doesn’t sound guilty, doesn’t look it either and Emily wonders if it would stay that way. Wonders if maybe in the morning he would think back to this moment and regret it. She wouldn’t be surprised if he did, but something in her told her that this was only the beginning.

“Really? I had no doubts about how good we would be at this.” She flashes him a smile and he laughs, something that’s louder than she expected but she found that she liked.

“You really are a minx aren’t you?” He rests his head against her pillow as she nods. He knows that he needs to go, it was getting too late to be able to explain his absence to Haley. Like she could read his mind she sat up, unashamed of her naked body as she leaned against the headboard.

“It’s getting late, you should go.” She thinks that he wants to stay, that he doesn’t want her to feel used, and she quickly adds. “I’ll see you tomorrow Hotch.”

Aaron looks at her for another moment before getting up to dress. It’s not awkward, in fact it feels easy, almost normal as he pulls his pants up and buttons his shirt.

“Do we need to talk about this?” He asks as he ties his tie.

“If this was a one-time thing, then that’s all it was. Like I said, I don’t believe in fairytales and happy endings.” It’s wrong, what they did, what they’ve been doing for months. But she knew that, had always known that and it didn’t stop her.

“I don’t think this was a one-time thing.” He leans over the bed, hands on either side of her as he speaks lowly, a look of certainty on his face before he kisses her.

She accepts the kiss he stamps against her lips in some sort of fucked up promise that this wasn’t the end.

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotch x emily #aaron x emily #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction

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the-great-zalmoxis · 3 months

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Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Tagging @instantpizzarevolt and @beril66

I never used titles, I just use the pairing and a short description + date it was transferred from my phone to my pc, aka second draft; like the 🅱️ancient being that I am.

Let's see! WIP!

Trazyn x Orikan - Egg laying - 09.05.2024

Trazyn - solo- breeding bed - 30.04.2024

Invoker x FacelessVoid - noncon - 15.02.2024 (I promise I will finish it !!!!!!)

Trazyn x Orikan - Short shorts - three of them with different dates, pirates, puns and merge ones are being written

ShadowShaman x Medusa - cunnilingus - no date, it is on my phone

Zaa x Amarkun - teasing - no date, it is on my phone

˖°✧˖Super duper secret summer exchange fic !✧˖°.

I had a couple started before my phone broke, but I am finding out this week if I can ever get my drafts back from it ! Fingers crossed!!!

Thank you @ocelly for tagging me <3

#WIP #thingamajig

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alicewonderao3 · 1 year

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Real feelings and fake relationships

Title: Real feelings and fake relationships

Pairing: Spencer Reid/ original female character

Characters: Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid, Original female character

Summary: When Alice and Spencer have to pretend to be boyfriend and girlfriend during a case, can Alice keep her hidden feelings for Spencer secret, or will she reveal everything?

Authors note: This is my entry for @the-slumberparty's July Challenge. This one was hard to write, as it was out of my usual wheelhouse. Plus, I've been so busy. My prompt was: Fake Relationship. I have no beta, so all spelling and grammar mistakes are mine. Enjoy! This is my second fic for the Criminal Minds fandom, so be gentle, please.

Warnings: none, although there is a brief mention of breasts, which for anyone who had read my works for a while, is quite daring for me.

Word count: 2,884

I walked to the briefing room with the others, tugging on the hem of my skirt as I slipped into a chair, ready to take notes on the new case. Spencer sits next to me, and my heart flutters in my chest as I greet him. "Hi, Spencer," I say softly and I see him nod, smiling warmly at me with those soft hazel eyes of his. I could get lost in those eyes, easily.

I try and focus on the case as Hotch explains everything to us, giving the basics, as we need to be wheels up in twenty. I nod, taking notes and brushing against Spencer every so often. When I stand up to leave, I bump into Derek as I do and he sends me flying back into Spencer's lap, where I land with a soft sound leaving my lips.

"Oh, Spencer, I'm sorry," I said, as I landed in his lap, and felt his hands instinctively reach for me, landing on my hips, almost keeping me there as my cheeks grow warm again. He blinks once and then twice before saying, "It's okay, Alice. It was an accident." I nod, my honey-brown eyes focused on his hazel ones even as Derek snickers at me.

Derek is the only one who knows I like Spencer, and he enjoys teasing me about it far too often, especially during moments like this. I struggle to stand as Derek laughs at me, and I push myself deeper into Spencer's lap, my soft curves pressing against him as I eventually rise.

My cheeks are warm and red now, as Derek laughs on his way out the door. I walk to my cubicle, grabbing my go bag as I walk with Spencer and Derek to the car, seated between them on the way to the jet. Emily leans back and sees Derek laughing and asked, "What's so funny?" I nudge him, whispering, "Don't you dare, Morgan," to which he just shakes his head at Emily and my cheeks flame more at the attention I've brought to myself.

I'm relieved when we make it to the plane and we all settle in, looking at case files. I settle in and slide my headphones in, listening to my music as I glance through the file and try to form a profile on this guy. I take notes, but as I do, I find my thoughts straying to how I felt in Spencer's lap, how his hands had tightened around my waist, and my cheeks grew warm as I shook my head to erase the image that just formed.

Don't be stupid, Alice, I told myself, There's no way Spencer even knows you're alive, I reminded myself, settling in for the long flight by focusing on my music, even as my eyes meet Derek's who is grinning as he stares at me, whispering in Emily's ear and I know he's telling her about this morning and I glare at him.

Emily's laughter is loud, drawing everyone's attention and I hear Hotch ask, "What's going on over there?" I see her open her mouth, feel my cheeks grow warm, as do Spencer's but gratefully, she plays it off as Derek tells her a funny joke, and it's dropped. I breathe out a sigh of relief, trying to focus on my music and manage to do so until we reach the hotels, to be told that I'm sharing with Spencer.

Derek and Emily snort at this information, and I can only hope that Spencer doesn't notice when he returns with our key. I follow him into the room, and after a bit of awkwardness, we manage to settle in for the night. The only sort of odd thing I notice is the way Spencer coughs when I exit the bathroom in my pajamas, my favorite pair of sleep shorts and gray shirt hugging my body.

It's admittedly, a little more than he's usually seen me in, so I chalk it up to that, and perch myself on the other bed, slowly rubbing lavender lotion on my legs, blissfully unaware of the way Spencer casually sneaks glances over at me, as my small hands make passes over my thighs, the scent of the lotion filling the room.

The next day, as we start working the case and getting a better profile on this guy, Emily discovers something that makes my stomach sink, she sighs. "Well, I think if we have any hope of catching this guy, we'll need bait." She says, her voice even. "He's targeting couples, and we need to control the situation a bit better."

My stomach swirls as I hear Hotch agree, and I sigh, knowing on one level that she's right. "Okay, so what's your plan?" I ask her watching as her eyebrow raises. "I think we send you and Spencer in." Across the room, Spencer, who was eating a bagel, coughs as Derek slaps him on the back, a faint laugh leaving him.

"Wh-why me and Spencer?" I ask her but Hotch is the one who answers her, telling me, "You two fit the age range of the victims the unsub is hunting. It makes sense." I don't even argue and neither does Spencer. J.J. settles up the details and all Spencer and I have to do is wear our communication devices and act like a real couple.

We're going to be going to dinner. I manage to find something appropriate to wear, the soft white sundress I'd thrown in last second. I straightened it, the blue flowers a nice touch. I admired myself in the mirror, enjoying the way the square neckline of the dress accentuated my chest, the dress flowy enough to show my feminine curves without being indecent.

I wore heels, my curls loose around my shoulders. I rubbed my floral-scented perfume oil on my neck and wrists, walking down to meet Spencer and the team where they waited for me. Spencer was wearing a blue and gray striped polo shirt, with a pair of black dress slacks, which was a good look for him.

I smiled softly at him as I approached, "Hey, you look great, Spencer." I said, meeting his gaze. He didn't speak for a long second, his eyes locked onto mine, a soft pink appearing in his cheeks as he stared at me and I heard Morgan chuckle. "Looks like you made pretty boy here speechless." I blushed as Morgan teased him.

I tried to focus as Hotch re-ran the plan by us again. It was easy enough. Spencer and I were a couple, going out on a date night. Easy enough. We needed to make the unsub think we'd been together for a long time. That was the important part, Hotch had stressed. I nodded, and with my com-link in and Spencer wearing his, we slowly started walking to the bar.

At first, we didn't hold hands, even as we entered the bar. I heard Morgan chuckle, his voice coming through the com. "Spencer, hold her hand. She's your girlfriend." I saw Spencer hesitate for a second before his hand wrapped around mine. his hand was large, warm, and almost covered mine completely. He tugged me along, as we made our way to a table.

We sat down and ordered just water, We talked about work and a few other things before Morgan's voice broke through the com again. "You two gotta step the PDA up. Wrap your arm around her, kiss her hand, and do something."

The team chuckled, and I nodded as I met Morgan's eyes. The problem was how to keep my feelings for Spencer hidden when we were alone together. I didn't know how that was going to happen. Spencer made his move, wrapping his arm around my shoulders as I leaned over into him. "Good, Spencer," I said through the com. Morgan said, "Nice, Alice. Nice."

"You two got this," he said. "Remember: the unsub has to believe you're a real couple."

"I feel like we're on a date," Spencer whispered in my ear.

"That's not a bad thing." I laughed, and he tightened his arm around my shoulders I met his gaze, almost losing myself in his gorgeous hazel eyes as he looked at me, my soft brown eyes looking up at him.

I could feel myself getting lost in them, and I felt a little guilty for it—he was just talking to me! But I couldn't help imagining what it would be like to kiss him, to feel those lips on mine. He was so much more than just a good friend; he was more than someone who understood me and got me. He was always looking out for me, bringing me my favorite pastries from the bakery that was near his house before work, and always reading to me when the turbulence got too bad on the jet.

"I'm glad you agree," he whispered back, and I smiled softly as I heard Morgan encourage him again. "Yes, just like that, Spencer. Now, keep that going." I went to look away from him, to reach for my drink when Spencer's fingers reached out, gently grasping my chin, his hazel eyes focused on me.

I swallowed hard as I stared up at him, as his fingers gently stroked my face, his thumbs skating across my lips. I shivered at his touch, barely hearing the team in my comlink, as his eyes darkened with a hint of something else in his gaze. His eyes were so dark, so intense, that I felt as if he was looking at me for the first time. The thought sent a rush of heat through my body, but it didn't stop the warmth from spreading to my cheeks, my chest, and the tips of my breasts. It didn't stop my heart from pounding, either.

Spencer leaned in, his lips growing closer and closer to mine, even as my heart fluttered in my chest, staring up at him with wide, soft eyes. Was he going to kiss me? God, I wanted him too. His lips grew closer, and I could feel his breath on my face, smell his cologne better, as he brushed a soft, dark curl out of my face.

Then he leaned in, his lips brushing against mine, softly and sweetly, before he deepened the kiss. I felt his tongue, so warm and so alive. It was so good. We sat there for a moment, just holding each other. And then he pulled me close again, kissing me deeply, hungrily, with a passion that made my body ache and made me press my thighs together under the table.

The team wolf whistled in the comlink, bringing a blush to my face as Spencer pulled back, his fingers gently tracing my lips. "So pretty," He whispered and I blushed again, as he leaned in, kissing me again to the team's delight. "Yes, you've got yourself a guy near the bar who can't take his eyes off you. Why don't you two pay your bill and head out, see if follows." Emily suggested and Spencer did just that, his arm resting around my waist as he paid and we walked out.

We left the bar as instructed, walking a bit away before Emily confirms that the unsub is following us. Spencer and I nod, knowing we need to distract him, need to prove this man is our unsub.

Spencer steers me into the alley, quickly pinning me to the rough brick wall, his lips immediately descending on mine. He kisses me, warm, and passionately, his hands roaming over my dress and I'm grateful the team can't see us, only hear us as he continues to kiss me and touch me. I feel the heat of his mouth, and the softness of him against me as his tongue slides into my mouth and he begins to move his hand over me in a slow, steady rhythm. His hands slide over the top of my dress, his fingers brushing against my breasts.

I can't help the soft whimper that leaves me, unprovoked, at Spencer's touch. I get so lost in his lips that it takes us a second to digest the team's words in our ears, that they'd got the guy, and we could come out now. But we don't. We stay where we are, listening to the silence. It's a quiet night. There is nothing but the sound of the wind in the trees, the rustling leaves, a bird's song. The only movement is that of our bodies. And then Spencer says, "You know what, I think we should go out sometime. I-I've liked you for a long time, Alice."

I nod, looking up at him. "We could do this for real. Not just some fake relationship for a case." He nods, then leans in and kisses me again as Morgan and Emily come to find us, both of them snickering as they catch us kissing. Morgan chuckles as our faces turn red and he asks, "Are you two going to quit dancing around each other and go out already?"

I nod, looking up at him. "I think so." Spencer nods. "Yes." Emily walks away, calling out to the rest of the team, "Alright! I won!" And we both turn, shocked and surprised to find out the team bet on how long it would take us to admit our feelings to each other. I chuckle and so does Spencer, neither of us finding it too difficult to care about anything else now but what we might have together. I meet his gaze and he kisses me again as the team wolf-whistles. I can't think of anything else I want more.

#navy and roo sleepover #criminal minds #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid

6 notes · View notes

kinosternon · 2 years

Text

I posted 71 times in 2022

That's 56 more posts than 2021!

20 posts created (28%)

51 posts reblogged (72%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@kinosternon

@bluejayblueskies

@natsume-ss

@dduane

@tanoraqui

I tagged 70 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#haruka nanase - 8 posts

#free! spoilers - 6 posts

#for my own reference - 5 posts

#writing advice - 5 posts

#free! the final stroke second part - 5 posts

#albert volandel - 4 posts

#ikuya kirishima - 4 posts

#rin matsuoka - 4 posts

#free! the final stroke - 4 posts

#about the writer - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 135 characters

#itll be /better/ with a single sentence saying 'and then time passed' than a long drawn out scene that fought you every step of the way

My Top Posts in 2022:

Okay, I'm doing it.

I'm writing a summary for the last Free! movie.

12 notes - Posted April 30, 2022

@demigardess

Hello, I was your secret santa for @natsume-ss this year! I really enjoyed your prompts, so I hope you can enjoy this fic as well ✨

Title: Peace of Mind Relationship: Gen, Natsume Takashi & Tanuma Kaname Prompts used: Gen fic, any kind of reveal fic

Summary:

He felt frozen, caught between two answers. The first, the easiest, was also one he could never say: It's fine. I'm already taking care of it. The second answer was the one that pertained to what they were really asking, he knew. And the answer was: I have no idea what to do for him right now.

read on AO3

13 notes - Posted December 27, 2022

NaNo 2022: not writing exposition or dialogue but a secret third thing (epistolary novel)

14 notes - Posted November 1, 2022

Official online Nabari Kuji!

Kamatani Yuhki announced recently on their Twitter that a new company is holding an online kuji (lottery) for official Nabari goods! It's rare to see something like this come out so long after a series ends, and I want as many people as possible to get the chance to participate. (According to the site's Q&A, you can register through a third-party company to have prizes shipped internationally, though I haven't tried this myself.)

All the prizes are random, and use official manga/promotional art—prints, badges, magnets, and so on—focusing on a variety of characters.

The kuji runs from today (August 19th, Japan time) through September 30th, 2022. You see what you've won right away after purchasing, but the items themselves won't be shipped till late December, and international shipping will probably cause further delays.

Link coming in reblog because I'd like this to show up in the tag.

17 notes - Posted August 19, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Walthrough: Reposting your old FFNet fics to Ao3

In light of recent rumors that FanFiction.Net might be receiving little/no ongoing support, and could suddenly disappear one day with very little warning, I wanted to offer a resource that might help preserve another fic or two. Just in case.

I'm already keeping a private collection of favorite fics from FFN that I can't bear to lose, but this tutorial isn't for saving other folks' fic. Instead, this tutorial is for people who might want to republish their own fic to Ao3 in a streamlined, relatively painless way.

Using these steps, I was able to upload an entire 16-chapter fic, with all the correct original formatting and without doing any fussy HTML editing, in about an hour. (And that was while making up the steps as I went along!)

What you'll need:

A link to your old FFNet account URL OR the those of the fics you want to save (no login necessary)

Access to a working Ao3 account

A web browser, permission to download zipped HTML files, and an unzipper (most computers have these by default)

How to save your fic for posterity:

Copy the link to the first chapter of the fic on FFN that you want to save. (Right-clicking the title of the fic on your profile and choosing "Copy Link" will do this.)

Go to https://fichub.net/ and paste in the URL. Press Export, then click "Download as zipped HTML." This saves your entire fic at once, no matter how many chapters, with formatting intact. Everyone thank the team who made this tool, because it's amazing.

Navigate to your downloads (or click on the pop-up that'll probably appear) and open the zipped HTML file. It will probably open in your default browser on its own, but you might need to tell it to open by right-clicking the unzipped file and choosing the desired browser. The resulting file should have all the chapters of the fic laid out one after another, with clear breaks between each chapter and the original HTML formatting (including section breaks).

Post a "New Work" in Ao3. (Can't import with FFNet, sadly, which is why this tutorial exists.) Add the title, relevant tags, and summary. (I used my FFNet summary with a note that the fic is crossposted.) Backdate the fic if desired by choosing a publishing date from around the time the fic was written.

Here's the magic part: Switch to Rich Text Mode in the "Work Text" field, then copy-paste the text from your first chapter into the Rich Text Mode window. (Note: You may see the stray space appear around italicized/bolded text, and an extra line break tends to appear between section breaks. Otherwise, though, the formatting is generally very well preserved.)

Optional detail: Hit "Preview," then "Save Draft," then "Add Chapter" to avoid posting any of your chapters till you have them all set up and ready to go.

Side note 1: Don't put an endnote on the end of your Chapter 1. Or if you do, go add a chapter 2 first, and then go back to add a chapter 1 endnote. Otherwise it'll end up at the end of your fic instead. It's a fixable outcome, but an annoying one.

Side note 2: If you use a pseud to post, you'll need to be careful to select the correct pseud for each chapter you upload, or you'll end up being listed as the author twice, once under each pseud you selected. If you notice this happening, it's because you've missed switching one in one or more chapters. This is fixable by checking the author listed under each chapter heading using the "Entire Work" button and keyword searching the username you're trying to get rid of.

While I didn't find a way to post all chapters at once, you can do it pretty quickly in the right order, without skipping, by doing the following steps in a loop:

Press "Entire work" at the top of the page.

Use your browser's "Find in page" function for the text "post chapter".

Hitting the "Post Chapter" button that appears.

Just continue the loop until there's no more "Post Chapter" buttons.

Once your chapters are all uploaded, you're done! Congratulations.

A final note

I know that this latest rumor might be blowing certain hints of FFNet's siterunners' inactivity out of proportion. I know that Ao3 isn't everyone's favorite (though I don't agree with most of those people). And I know, most of all, that some folks would rather some of their older fics not see the light of day anymore, for whatever reason.

But look. I'm a trans guy who used to be a teenage girl who (enthusiastically) wrote Twilight/Doctor Who crossover fanfic. I get it, and yet I'm still managing to stun the part of me that cringes long enough to preserve my stuff, because I think that fic should survive whenever possible.

There are options to help make the cringe factor more manageable. Use a pseud for your older stuff (like me), or to minimize any connection to your current account, you can use the Anonymous collection or the Orphan Work function as soon as you're done posting. Do whatever you need to feel comfortable.

But remember that every creative work is a victory just for existing. Please, if you can, find it in your heart (and your schedule) to preserve your work. Past!you worked hard on it, after all. And besides, you never know who might stumble across it someday exactly when they need it.

(PS: Please let me know about any other FFN preservation efforts, by the way! Hopefully this is all blown out of proportion, but you really can never be too careful.)

376 notes - Posted September 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #this is cute #and look I actually posted this year! magical #I'd like to keep it up but we'll see

0 notes

inevitably-johnlocked · 3 years

Note

Hi Steph!! Hope you're doing well! Can I ask what your comfort reads are? I love to read other peoples comfort fics - makes them better in a way. Mine are 'Performance in a leading role', 'Midnight Blue Serenity', 'Nature and Nurture', and 'I Feel Like I Don't Even Know Him'.

Hey Nonny!

Ahhhhhh!! What a great idea! I often list my FAVE fics, but never my comfort fics! And it gives me a chance to post a bonus list people will enjoy, hahha. So I'm sorry I sat on this so long... just wanted to sit on it a bit, and decide how I wanted to do this.

First, your comfort fics, because they're all great (I haven't read the last two, though, so I'll take your word for it!)

Performance In a Leading Role by Mad_Lori (E, 156,714 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Hollywood / Actor AU, Secret Relationship, Falling in Love, Slow Burn, Romance, Coming Out, Fluff and Angst, Pining) – Sherlock Holmes is an Oscar winner in the midst of a career slump. John Watson is an Everyman actor trapped in the rom-com ghetto. When they are cast as a gay couple in a new independent drama, will they surprise each other? Will their on-screen romance make its way into the real world? Part 1 of Performance in a Leading Role

Midnight Blue Serenity by BeautifulFiction (E, 151,907 w., 19 Ch. || Friends to Lovers, Gay Bar / For a Case, Drugs, Pining, Case Fic, UST) – When Sherlock infiltrates a club in order to track down a serial killer, his altered appearance is enough to make John question his assumption that Sherlock is beyond his reach. However, is he the only one who appreciates his flatmate's charms, or is Sherlock at risk of becoming the next victim?

Nature and Nurture by earlgreytea68 (M, 203,273 w., 57 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Parentlock, Cloning, Kidlock, Dev. Rel.) – The British Government accidentally clones Sherlock Holmes. Which brings a baby to 221B Baker Street. Part 1 of Nature & Nurture

I Feel Like I Don't Even Know Him! by MutedSilence (NR, 26,108 w., 25 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting || Fake Relationship, Developing Relationship, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Couple’s Counselling, Paternal Greg, Protective Mycroft, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, For a Case) – John is leaving therapy Sherlock needs to get into the office of a couples counsellor. A frantic Sherlock bumps into John as he's making his way out. John - with nothing better to do - agrees to pretend to be a stranger's boyfriend for the afternoon. Beats going home.

------

NEXT! I actually have a few multi-fandom comfort reads right now for all my current ships, if that's okay?? I like sharing great reads in other fandoms I'm a part of since DBH and Red Dwarf are kind of tiny fandoms, lol, and since I'm a rec blog, never hurts to help those people also get traffic from an unlikely source, hahah. I just don't file them as diligently as I do with Johnlock, so apologies for the tags.

Let's do a top 20, and I'll start with Johnlock obviously, and then give you a few from each of my other current fandoms, if you are willing to fandom jump! Some are probably obvious, and maybe not, but I hope you enjoy all of them!

Bit of a "fave fics" and bit of a "I read these as palate cleansers or if I want to read something familiar", hahha! You may notice a trend that I tend to veer towards long comfort reads... usually after a string of fics I didn't enjoy, I jump to a different fandom and read something long and familiar.

Of course these aren't EVERY single one I have ever re-read, I literally just went down my list of iBooks and put down not just the recent re-reads, BUT the ones that I KNOW the story off-heart just by the title.

AND I also avoided listing MBS and PiaLR since you listed them up there, but they are ALSO my comfort reads as well and glad we share a similar love for them.

I have enough fics for a second Johnlock list... I just REALLY wanted the chance to showcase some other fandoms, so I shall wait for another ask to add more :)

And, as always, if anyone has some comfort reads of their own, from ANY FANDOM, I STRONGLY encourage y'all to make this a community post and share what makes us happy when we need a snuggle in the form of a fanfic!

Hope y'all enjoy!

I-J's TOP 20 COMFORT READS

Top 30 Read-Again Fics (March 2019)

Top 30 Read-Again Fics Pt. 2 (Sept. 2019)

Fave Read-Again Fics (10) (Dec 11/20)

JOHNLOCK (10)

26 Pieces by Lanning (E, 28,236 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Torture, First Time, Happy Ending, Schmoop, Past Abuse) – Mycroft gives Sherlock the apparently simple task of solving a puzzle box containing a stolen microchip. It isn't simple.

Classified(s) by blueink3 (E, 36,153 w., 4 Ch. || Wedding Date AU || Fake Relationship, Jealous, Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Happy Ending, Mary is not Nice, Escort Service) – Clara's American father is the ambassador to some such territory that Great Britain probably used to own, but she (and Harry’s undying love for her) is the reason John is getting on a flight at 12:30pm, flying across the second largest ocean in the world, and pretending to be in a perfectly happy, healthy relationship with an undoubtedly perfectly coiffed stranger. See, Clara is not only American (and wealthy to boot), she's also best friends with John’s ex-fiancée. Whom she's placed in the wedding party. As Maid of Honor. And John just happens to be Best Man. Bloody brilliant.

A Promise Made to Be Broken by PlantsAreNeat (E, 37,018 w., 7 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Pining, Slow Burn, RST, Eventual Relationship, Primarily POV Sherlock) – A young John makes an ‘if we’re still single at 40, we’ll get together’ pledge to a woman who ends up all wrong for him. She keeps reminding him of the promise, and won’t let go of it. John asks Sherlock to pose as his boyfriend at a family wedding, so as to dash her hopes permanently. Sherlock, who has at last acknowledged his feelings for John, reluctantly agrees despite knowing how painful it will be to ‘have’ John, but not keep him.

Corpus Hominis by mycapeisplaid (E, 47,709 w., 12 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Case Fic, Fluff, Romance, Frottage, Angst, Anal, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Spas / Massages, Shampoo, Jealousy, Fake Relationship) - John knows the human body intimately. He’s had plenty of opportunity for study as a doctor, soldier, and lover. There’s one particular body, however, he knows very little about. When Sherlock launches himself head-first into a new obsession and they get sent on a case in an unlikely location, the pair discovers each other’s bodies with confusing yet delightful (and sometimes hilarious) results.

Triage by scullyseviltwin (E, 51,612 w., 14 Ch. || Character Injury, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Falling in Love, Slow Burn, Sherlock POV, Toplock) – Sherlock’s mind goes exceedingly, devastatingly quiet and gray-blank. When he speaks it’s through a thick haze, it’s through molasses, he’s so disconnected from the words that it may as well be the unconscious shooter speaking.

Coventry by standbygo (E, 52,020 w., 26 Ch. || Dollhouse AU || Case Fic, Slow Burn, Sci-Fi / Fantasy, First Kiss / Time, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, BAMF John, Falling in Love) – “Let me get this straight,” John said, wondering when his life had become a science fiction film. “Some guy orders up a personality, a person, to his specifications, and they program this into a real live person, who has consented to do this, and she goes to this person and acts as his wife, or lawyer, or Royal Marine, or Navy Seal or what have you, and she has all the skills, all the knowledge, everything? Then you say the magic words, and she follows you back to The House, and they erase it all until her next appointment?”

Bridging the Ravine by SilentAuror (E, 58,887 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Couple For a Case, Bed-Sharing, First Times, Confessions, Awkwardness, Sex Trafficking, Massages, Wet T-Shirt Contest, Group Therapy, Past Loss of Child) – Sherlock and John go undercover at Ravine Valley, a therapy centre for same-sex male couples in an investigation into a possible human trafficking ring. As they pose as a couple and fake their way through the therapy sessions for the sake of the case, it quickly becomes difficult to avoid discussing their very real issues. Set roughly six nine months after series 4. Part 1 of the The Ravine Valley series series

Perdition's Flames by i_ship_an_armada (E, 63,435 w., 21 Ch. || Treklock AU, Est. Rel, Genetic Engineering, Angst & Fluff, BAMF!John) – Sherlock would do anything to save him. Risk anything. Give anything. His money, his life. His soul. What he does, though, is change both of their destinies forever. Genetic re-engineering is the only option left. It turns out researchers underestimated the life expectancy and potential abilities of genetically re-engineered subjects. The British government and what would eventually become the United Federation of Planets, however, had not. Part 1 of PF Universe

You Have Drawn Red From My Hands by J_Baillier (T, 67,085 w., 17 Ch. || Three Garridebs, Heavy John Whump, Hurt / Comfort, Pining, Heavy Angst, Case Fic/Adventure, Slow Burn, Sick Fic, Injury, Guilt & Depression, Just Talk Already Please, Medical Realism, PTSD) – John getting injured leads Sherlock on a path of guilt and revelations.

The Horse and his Doctor by khorazir (T, 129,003 w., 13 Ch. || Horse / Vet AU || Magical Realism, Horses, Vet John, Horse Sherlock, Implied Alcoholism) – Invalided after a run in with a poacher in Siberia, veterinary surgeon John Watson finds it difficult to acclimatize to the mundanity of London life. Things change when a friend invites him along to a local animal shelter and he meets their latest acquisition, a trouble-making Frisian with the strangest eyes and even stranger quirks John has ever encountered in a horse.

GOOD OMENS (2)

The Picnic; or, the Drawbacks of Loving an Angel by sorrowfulcheese (G, 3,776 w., 1 Ch. || Post-Apocalypse/Canon, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Misunderstandings, Moving On, Picnicking, Idiots in Love, Crowley POV, Cranky Crowley, Mutual Pining, Light Angst with Happy Ending) – Aziraphale lures Crowley out for a picnic. It doesn't go remarkably well.

A Brief History of Touch by chamyl (E, 11,849 w., 1 Ch. || Moments in Time, First Kiss/Time, Heavy Mutual Pining, Romance, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Masturbation, Almost Kiss, Touch-Starved Crowley, Angst With Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Blow Jobs, Emotional Love Making, Friends to Lovers, Body Worship, Promise of Forever With a Ring) – Six thousand years of pining, stolen glances, almost-touches, plummeting towards the inevitable end.

RED DWARF (4)

Homecoming by Queen of the Potato People (T, 3,805 w., 1 Ch. || Pre-Slash, Rimmer Returns from Being Ace, Reunion, Character Study, Introspection, Angst with Happy Ending) – How does being Ace Rimmer work out for the smeggiest possible version of Rimmer in the entire multiverse? How and why does he return to Red Dwarf? This is one possible take.

Hand in Glove by lizardkid (T, 14,223 w., 1 Ch. || RED DWARF || Post-S9, Internalized Homophobia, Repression, Hurt/Comfort, Lister Whump, Worried Rimmer, Ableist Language, Cuddling) – Lister is mortally wounded in an accident. Rimmer is forced to reassess everything.

“Someone to Watch Over You” by Metalkatt & VeronicaRich (E, 72,347 w., 23 Ch. || S8 Canon Divergence, BAMF Rimmer, Coming Home, Dimension Jumping) – Ace Rimmer may have waited too long to go home again, but with some help, he might just get the happy ending none of his predecessors did. Part 1 of Further Watching

Easy As Anything by komodobits (E, 141,203 w., 12 Ch. || Canon Adjacent, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Bickering, Developing Relationship, Slow Burn, Pining, Soft-Light Sex / Mutual Masturbation, Humour, Top Rimmer) – Sex isn’t supposed to be this difficult. Maybe they’re just really bad at it. Part 1 of the Easy!verse series

DETROIT: BECOME HUMAN (4)

blue horizon in the making. by ohmaggies (NR [G], 2,086 w., 1 Ch. || Post Story, Human/Android Politics, Introspection / Reflection, Living Together, Media / People are Bad, Pre-Slash, Cynical Hank, Bed Sharing, Anxious/Worried Connor, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Soft Hank) – Hank looks peaceful like that, younger somehow and rested, and his growing hair falling softly across his face. Connor likes it, he decides. He likes Hank, more importantly. As a friend, as a drinking buddy, as whatever he's capable of feeling for him- just as anything other than a machine. Connor reflects.

Sleight of Hand by Relvetica (T, 14,360 w., 1 Ch. || Everyone Lives Ending, Hank POV, Mutual Pining, Coping with Deviancy / Emotions, LED Mood Ring/LED Removal Discussion, Human/Android Politics, Human/Android Relationship Discussion, Stubborn Connor, Worried Connor, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Comforting Hank, Experimenting Connor, Introspection, Heart-To-Heart, Obsessive Connor, Love Confession, Trying to Understand Love, Sexuality Discussions, Ken-Doll Android Anatomy, Bed Sharing, Comforting Each Other, Hiding Out, Running Away Together, First Kiss, Open Ending) – Some good endings only really count as good endings because they end before it gets bad. On the other hand, some end before they get better.

Opinion is the medium between knowledge and ignorance by ImogenGotDrunk (T, 16,912 w., 2 Ch. || Pacifist Route, Pre-Slash, Pre-Deviant Connor, Depression, References to Suicide, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Alternating POV, Connor’s Freckles, Enemies to Friends, Connor-Centric, Introspection, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Connor’s Path to Deviancy, Obsessive Connor) – Hank made his view on androids very clear. No one could mistake where the Lieutenant stood on that particular subject. But as he and Connor begin working together, his opinions seem to drastically change. The only conclusion Connor can come to is that he himself is responsible for it. It must be another instability in his software. After all, changing Hank’s mind was never part of the mission.

Moving Forward, Circuit by Circuit by DoAndroidsDreamOfElectricPolarBears (E, 50,605 w., 18 Ch. || Post-Ending AU, Amnesia, Connor Whump, Alcohol Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Android Slavery/Trafficking, World Building, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Hank Being Hank, Memory Loss/Wipe, Rebuilding Relationship, Case Fic, Protective Hank, Interrogations, Police Work, Love Confessions, Fixing Connor, Caring Hank, Friends to Lovers, Going Undercover, Self Depreciation, Bed Sharing, Kissing and Hugging, Flirting) – After the liberation of androids, society is changing ... for everyone except Hank. To him, it seems that life has returned to normal -- especially with the absence of his partner. That is, until he finds Connor, components modified and memories erased. The two must work together to catch the man responsible (and sort out their feelings along the way).

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #comfort reads #read again fics #fave fics #multifandom fic recs #red dwarf #good omens #detroit become human #long post

49 notes · View notes

iam93percentstardust · 4 years

Note

A very happy birthday month to you! I’m a fan of your Stony fics. If you’re still taking prompts, could you do one with a Las Vegas backdrop? Maybe Steve’s first time there with Tony for some reason? I was supposed to have my first trip there ever but Covid cancelled it. Maybe at least they can have a happy ending there. 🙂

Thank you! I’m glad you’re enjoying the Stony fics!

So sorry your Las Vegas trip was cancelled, that’s really awful. I sort of went to Vegas once (it was a layover in the airport). The only thing I remember about the whole thing was the 5 bajillion slot machines in the airport terminals

Since I know so little about Vegas, I ended up going with the getting married in Vegas trope instead of something about the casinos. I also hope you don’t mind that I used this for my bingo square, but I saw the happy ending part in your ask and got inspired for my happily ever after square (details below the cut)

Here’s to Las Vegas

The day after Steve gets married, he wakes up in a Las Vegas hotel with a ring on his finger and Tony Stark snuggled up beside him.

Most days, Steve wakes up the second his alarm goes off, alert and ready for his run. This day, however, he drifts into wakefulness slowly, comfortably lying on his back. He’s warm and there’s a heavy weight on his stomach and chest, pressing him down into sheets that feel so much nicer on his bare skin than the ones he has at home. That’s the second thing he notices: he’s not wearing any clothes, not even the boxer-briefs he normally wears in lieu of pajamas. And the third thing he notices is that there’s something soft tickling his chin.

He slowly blinks his eyes open. He’s somewhere with high vaulted ceilings and an expensive-looking chandelier, which means it’s not Tony’s place (he thinks chandeliers are tacky) and it’s definitely not Steve’s (he can’t afford a chandelier). Whatever it is on his chest shifts and Steve looks down. Tony is draped across him, the top of his head tucked under Steve’s chin, their arms and legs tangled together. He’s breathing deep and even, still asleep even though sunlight is pouring through the window.

Steve smiles at the sight and raises his head enough to kiss Tony’s curls. He doesn’t often get to wake up with Tony. Steve lives in Brooklyn and Tony lives in Manhattan and they’re both so busy—Tony with SI’s R&D and Steve with his teaching—that they decided early on in their relationship that spending every single night together was a bad idea because one of them would always end up late to work. So this makes for a nice change.

Tony stirs, inhaling deeply. Steve brings his hand up to stroke over Tony’s hair, the way he likes it when they both have a rare day when neither of them have to be anywhere so they can spend the night. That’s when he sees it.

The ring.

The one that’s sitting on the ring finger of his left hand, exactly where it should be—except he’s not supposed to be wearing it for another week.

In the sleepy haze of waking up, he’d forgotten what they’d done last night but the memories are filtering in. Flashes of Tony excitedly talking him into finding a chapel and wrangling a couple witnesses from off the street and filing the marriage license a whole week early because both of them were more than tired of the wedding planning, the swell of emotions he’d felt at hearing Tony declared his husband and sweeping Tony off his feet and back to their hotel, kissing the whole way and probably scandalizing their Uber driver.

He groans and tips his head back against the pillows. Tony makes a low sound and yawns widely before slowly opening his eyes. He looks a little like an adorable kitten and Steve can’t resist kissing the top of his head again.

“Wuzzgoinon?” Tony mumbles sleepily.

“What’s going on,” Steve says, “is that your mother is going to kill us. No, she’s going to kill me, because you’re her darling angel who can do no wrong and she’s never once thought I’m good enough for you.”

“No, you’re better,” Tony says around another yawn. “Why is my mama going to kill you?”

Steve picks up Tony’s left hand and waves it in front of his face. Tony goes cross-eyed trying to make out what’s different about his hand. “Oh,” he says eventually and lays his head back down on Steve’s chest.

“Oh?” Steve asks. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

“If Mama didn’t want us to elope, she shouldn’t have sent us to Vegas by ourselves to pick up the rings,” Tony says, as though he’s pointing out something reasonable, even though this is the most absurd thing that’s ever happened in Steve’s entire life—and his best friends are Bucky and Sam. Those two are the very definition of absurd. “Everyone knows what happens in Vegas.”

“This is your fault,” Steve informs him. “If you hadn’t insisted on this particular jeweler—”

“Hmm maybe I was planning this,” Tony hums, closing his eyes again.

And that’s… that’s actually entirely possible. Ever since they got engaged, Tony has been complaining about the big white wedding Mrs. Stark wants them to have and threatening to steal Steve away to the courthouse to elope. Steve had thought he’d calmed down about the whole affair after Mrs. Stark’s tearful outburst about her just wanting her baby to have the perfect wedding (Tony is nothing if not his mama’s boy), but maybe he’d been planning on this instead. He had thought it odd when Tony had insisted on a small-name jeweler in Las Vegas who wouldn’t ship to New York, thereby forcing them to travel to pick up the rings, but if Tony had been planning this all along…

“Did you?” he asks before he can stop himself.

Tony stares up at him for a long moment, blinking. Then he dryly says, “Yes, Steve. I, who has never made a decision that wasn’t impulsive even once in my entire life, somehow managed to both plan out a trip to Vegas to get married and keep it a secret from the love of my life who knows everything I’m thinking before even I know it.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Steve says, grinning at him. What they’ve just done hits him and he laughs giddily. He sits up, pulling Tony up with him to give him a closed-mouthed good morning kiss. “We’re married.”

Tony smiles happily and kisses him again. “Yeah, we are. Good morning, Mr. Stark-Rogers.”

He likes the sound of that. He really likes the sound of that. Another kiss. “What are we going to tell everyone?” he asks.

“Hmm. How about we got so caught up in the thrill of picking up the rings that we abandoned all reason and got married here? It’s not like the big white wedding my mama wants even really matters in the grand scheme of things. It’s the marriage license that counts.”

“She’s still going to want it.”

“Undoubtedly. And we’ll give it to her. But this is nice, isn’t it?” Tony peers up at him anxiously. “No fuss, no caterers with ten different meal plans for all the restrictions, no Great-Auntie Mildred who shouts for the minister to speak louder. No stress at all.”

Steve leans back against the headboard, thinking about it. Tony’s right. They dealt with a lot less stress by getting married this way. But it isn’t just Great-Auntie Mildred that they left behind, it’s their friends too. It’s hard to know how he feels about that.

But then he starts thinking about the wedding picture the photographer had handed them before they left the chapel last night. Steve had tucked it into his wallet for safekeeping, and he reaches over to the bedside table to grab it, pulling the photo out so he can look at it. It’s a picture of their kiss. They’re holding onto each other so tight he’s not sure a piece of paper would fit between them, smiling so broadly that it’s barely a kiss at all. And he thinks about the engagement pictures Mrs. Stark had sent out in the announcement and wedding invitations: poised and perfect and not a smile to be seen anywhere.

“Yeah,” he says eventually, pulling Tony against his chest. Tony snuggles in, warm and beautiful and all Steve’s. “This was pretty damn perfect.”

Tony sighs contentedly and presses a kiss right over Steve’s heart. “Good.”

“But your mother’s still going to kill me.”

“We just won’t tell her,” Tony replies dismissively. “We’ll get married again and we won’t have to worry about the wedding because we’ll know we’re already married.”

“She’s going to notice the rings.”

“Not if we spend the whole week here.”

Steve stills. He hadn’t thought of that. It would solve a lot of problems, not least that Mrs. Stark would finally have free reign to do whatever she wanted with the wedding without any input from either of them. She was doing anyway, but at least now, they don’t have to hear about how their small family affair has turned into the society event of the year.

Tony continues in a wheedling voice, “Call out all our friends, treat it like an extended bachelor party—or our first honeymoon, take your pick.”

Steve stops him right there with another kiss, lingering this time. “And what are we going to do on our first honeymoon?”

“Blow all our money on slot machines. Count cards at the poker table. Go see some really truly ridiculous shows,” Tony says with a shrug. “What everyone does when they’re in Vegas.”

“Hmm somehow I don’t think counting cards is what everyone does.”

“I suppose everyone didn’t grow up with Ana Jarvis,” Tony muses. Steve laughs because it’s true. Howard might think that Tony is a troublemaker all on his own, but everyone knows that Tony learned it from the best.

He’s distracted out of his thoughts by Tony picking up his hand and gently kissing his wedding ring. “It’s the first day of the rest of our lives, darling,” Tony murmurs. “We can do whatever we want.”

Details for @tonystarkbingo

Title of Fill: Here's to Las Vegas Collaborator: iam93percentstardust Card Number: 4012 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29676711 Square Filled: A3 - Free Square Ship/Main Pairing: Stevetony Rating: T Major Tags/Warnings/Triggers: Established Relationship, Fluff, Marriage Summary: The day after Steve gets married, he wakes up in a Las Vegas hotel with a ring on his finger and Tony Stark snuggled up beside him. Word Count: 1558

#alle writes #alle answers #stevetony #if you like please consider reblogging #mistyendings #tsbmiv

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vanillann · 4 years

Text

real or not real? (natasha romanoff x reader)

a/n: this is based off the hunger games because i just finished reading the books!! also a little badass woman fic because of international woman’s day!! love all woman, I MEAN ALL WOMAN!!

word count: 1.6k

natasha romanoff masterlist

As I finally landed, I watched everyone face drop once they recognized who I was. My brain felt like static as I took the steps to where the team was camped out.

I watched Steve Rogers, I think that’s what the file I was given said, stand up and look at the other members of the squad. As he approached I felt flashes of memories, or maybe memories, flood me.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing here?” The blond approached me but stopped a few feet away. He tried to keep his voice clear of emotion but it was useless, I couldn’t be trusted yet.

“I was told you needed back-up,” I didn’t bring up how the nice blonde woman, I think she said her name was Pepper, argued with Mr. Fury for days about me re-joining the team.

“Well you came just in time.”

By the look in his eye, I didn't want what he wanted in the slightest.

I followed him to the tents that were hidden among the trees, a shiver going up my spine when I made eye contact with any members of the team.

I could see old versions of myself interacting with each, but some felt so real and some felt so fake I couldn’t put them right in my mind.

One I caught the red head, Natasha, eye I felt my body grow stiff. She was common in my memories, some of her gentle and meaningful and some of her enraged with bullets flying at me. Tony had informed me that most of the bad memories are Hydra’s doing, that they were never real. I couldn’t help but wonder how true that was as she backed away from me when I walked past her.

“(Y/N) was dropped off for back-up,” Mr. Rogers spoke from behind me, taking the seat next to the brunette with the metal arm. I had spoken to him twice when I was in the hospital, apparently he had something to do with my capture and refused to see me more after that.

“Um, Cap?” Clint, or was it Carl, spoke up. He gave me a few side glances but said nothing else until he was pulled aside.

As soon as they were out of ear shot I watched them go at each other, arguing about who knew what, most likely me. I did my best to ignore the eyes on me, but I couldn’t help but snap.

“Have something to say?”

All eyes flooded off me, except for Natasha who crossed her arms and stared me down.

“You aren’t going to try and kill me again, are you?”

Her question enraged me, but I had no reason to be mad. I was the one who attacked, but I swore she was after me.

“I thought you were a threat,” my words felt icy as they hung in the air.

“I wasn’t before and I’m not now,” her words were just as cold, running in my blood like a river in December.

“Look I’m sorry, okay? I have all these memories and I can’t tell what’s real or not, so yes I attacked you,” I sat against the log farthest from anyone, so I couldn’t hurt someone.

“Then ask.”

Mr. Rogers came back, taking the seat he took seconds ago and watched me closely. He looked more opened to talking then the C man that came back with him.

“Will that work?” I looked to Banner, the doctor who checks on me often when I was strapped to the hospital bed.

“It can’t hurt,” he shrugged his shoulder and continued to look around the group. They spoke with their eyes and I couldn’t help but wonder would the old me under their silent conversation.

“I was a part of your group, real or not real?”

“Real,” Rogers spoke up, nodding to each member as if to tell them it was okay, but I couldn’t be sure of that.

I nodded, letting the fake and real memories flood me within every inch of my brain. I had enough questions to keep them up all night.

“I was kidnapped in my sleep by Hydra, real or not real?”

“Real,” the man with the metal arm spoke this time, giving me the nod this time and I felt as if he was letting me join their secret conversation.

“It was a few months ago, we couldn’t get to you in time,” Banner filled me in more.

I could vaguely remember the screaming and the way my bed-sheets felt that night, but everything else was slightly blurry.

“Natasha tried to kill me, real or not real?”

“Not real,” she was quick to set me straight, giving me a look I couldn’t read but I didn’t mind it, not when it was coming from her.

She was the only person being straight with me, not jumping around the conversation that I needed to have for my sake.

“You’re favorite color is Orange, real or not real?” I didn’t take my eyes off her, the conversation felt so intimate even if everyone was watching.

“Yes, and yours in red because you say it reminds you of my hair,” she looked to her hands, rubbing them up and down the side of her thighs.

“Okay,” I nodded as I absorbed the information about myself, the first piece of information I’ve heard that wasn’t in a file.

“I think we should start getting some sleep, we have a long day ahead,” Rogers pointed to his tent, his voice soft yet firm.

Nobody disagrees, each telling the other goodnight while I got head titles and I'm waves. The only people to tell me goodnight were Rogers and his friend, who I think was named James but I remembered his face clearly now.

I was once his friend too.

I didn’t move from my log, I couldn’t sleep much anyways and I couldn’t be shoved into a tent alone and expected not to go crazy. I said nothing as Natasha moved a few logs closer to me, staring at the ground as she waited.

“Anymore questions?”

“Plenty, but do you have the answers?” I ducked my head, hoping to get a glimpse of her eyes but I was memorized when I did.

Her face flashed over my brain, the same red but straighter and her eye shined under a street lamp. Her lips were as soft as hotel pillows and her touch was like magic as it ghosted over my shoulder.

She looked like magic before the sight was gone and I watched her slightly dirty hair hang in her eye, that wasn't as bright, and the memories started to fog again.

“You kissed me, real or not real?”

The silent felt like screaming as she chewed on her bottom lip, waiting for her words to work.

“Real.”

It wasn’t as confident as her words before, but it felt so much more honest than anything I remembered.

“How did I think you wanted to kill me then?”

“Hydra turned all your memories of me to shit, all the ones they knew about,” she rolled something in-between her finger and I wanted to ask but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

“Do you remember any good ones?”

She held back a laugh, finally looking up from the ground to me with a sad smile stretch on her lips.

“Plenty,” she nodded, going back to the object in her hand.

“Tell me about them, please?”

The ‘please’ sounded so desperate in my head, but it seemed to bring her ease as she moved her body to face me.

“We used to window shop like crazy together,” she looked up at my confused face and continued, “it’s like walking around and looking at stuff you’ll never buy.”

The memories of walking on a sidewalk with her filled me up, the feeling of gentle flowers brushed against my skin filled me.

“Then one time, after we kissed, you pulled me into this antique store and told me to pick something. We argued about it for ten minutes before you gave me this look I could never say no to, so I grabbed the closet thing and told you it’s what I wanted. It was the locket, I hate wearing it because it's so big so I keep it in my pocket,” she held out the locket in question, waiting for me to draw closer and once I did she opened it.

Inside was a photo of me, rolling my eyes at the camera but a hint of a smile on my lips. I looked so content for someone rolling their eyes, I wonder if I always like that.

“You were, never took many things seriously,” I didn’t realize I spoke out loud, but I was glad I did when she almost laughed at the memories.

That when it started to really hit me, not just the memories but the feelings. They laughs and the jokes, and all the inbetweens. I didn’t really know what I was saying, not for a while, but I couldn’t stop myself.

“You love me, real or not real?”

Her answer wasn’t hesitate, even with the same pause, she knew as soon as I asked she just wasn’t ready to say it.

“Real,” her voice was barely above a whisper but I heard it.

I wanted to respond with ‘me too’ or something along the lines, but my answer was much more complex and I couldn’t only hope she understood.

“I think the old me loved you back, from how I feel when I think of the little things, and I can only hope the new me can remember why.”

I was scared when she said nothing, as if I made an impossible situation worse, but when she looked up at me her eyes twinkled again and her hair appeared redder.

“Let me know when you do?”

“You’ll be the first to know, Nat.”

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spacedikut · 4 years

Text

“i want to love someone and be loved” ; spencer reid - part 2

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: spencer decides it’s time to tell you, but he needs some help. 3887 words. part 1

a/n: THIS is the longest fic ive ever written but im actually kinda proud of how it turned out? i hope this is a good sequel :)

Spencer chickens out of telling you the next day.

He avoids you all weekend, actually. You resisted texting him the day after Rossi’s because you assumed he’d be busy – with his big plan involving a girl that isn’t you. You’re not bitter – but Sunday comes around and you message him not long after you wake up and six hours later there’s no response.

Twelve hours later - there’s no response.

Monday, you don’t have time to say hello to anyone – there’s a case waiting for you, somewhere in Florida.

Reid avoids your eyes. His body language tells you something is wrong, so you assume whoever he confessed to didn’t reciprocate (they’re insane) and he’s dealing with it. So you don’t press.

Spencer pretends to sleep the entire jet ride. He’s avoiding everyone, not just you.

He spent the whole weekend beating himself up. He drove to your apartment on Saturday, sat outside for so long a neighbour knocked on his window and asked if he was lost, but couldn’t bring himself to step foot out of his car.

So he locked himself in his room, away from you and your loveliness and away from his phone because he knew you texted him and he knew you’d send some soft message about being there for him if he needs anything and he didn’t need to be reminded of how beautiful and out of reach you are.

Derek seemed to be waiting for him Monday morning, arms crossed as he held a cup of coffee. It was weird seeing him in before Spencer.

“How’d it go?” He immediately asked.

“How’d what go?” Spencer mumbles, flinging his bag on the floor by his desk. He slumps in his seat.

Derek raises a dark eyebrow, “You know what, pretty boy. You had a big thing? Big plan?”

“Didn’t work out.”

It doesn’t take a profiler to realise Spencer is very clearly saying leave me alone. Leave it alone.

Derek isn’t one to leave it alone. Especially when it comes to Spencer.

He sighs and moves a little closer to Spencer’s desk, just in case someone overhears them.

“What happened?”

“That’s exactly it,” Spencer slams open a file, “Nothing happened.”

“And why did nothing happen?”

“Because I’m an idiot that can’t even tell a girl how I feel.”

“Whoa- hey!”

Derek spins Spencer’s chair so they’re face to face. Derek takes one look in Spencer’s eyes and knows what’s going on – he got too into his head and backed out at the last minute.

“You’re not an idiot. Why didn’t you do it?”

Spencer shrugs, “I got to her apartment. I had flowers, too. I don’t know.”

Derek’s evidently concerned – Spencer’s beaten up over this, over whoever this girl is, and he deserves the chance to experience love. Spencer deserves a lot more than he himself thinks he does.

“You seemed really excited, man. You can still do it. Just cause you try once and it doesn’t work out doesn’t mean you can’t ever try again.”

Spencer stares off into the distance, accidentally ignoring Derek as his thoughts slip out of his mouth, “Yeah, it probably wouldn’t have worked anyway – I was stupid to think I could get someone like her.”

“Hey, no.” Derek nudges Spencer’s shoulder so he looks at him again, “Don’t talk like that. You’re one hell of a guy, Reid. All you gotta do is get that confidence that you had Friday night back, and you’re all set. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Spencer gives a feeble nod. Derek moves back to his desk, knowing he isn’t convinced, but he isn’t done yet.

+++

Later, in Florida, Spencer’s making a coffee in the precinct’s kitchen after waiting twenty minutes for you to leave. Luck’s on his side, for once, and you’ve been working non-stop with Prentiss going crime scene to crime scene so he hasn’t had to actively avoid you. You smile at him every chance you get, though, and it distracts him.

Someone clears their throat behind him. It’s Penelope, whom Spencer didn’t realise was invited on this case.

She looks guilty. Spencer recognises that face; the face she has when she’s done something she shouldn’t have or knows something she isn’t really supposed to. Given current circumstances, Spencer bets it’s the latter reason.

“Morgan told me something he shouldn’t have.”

Bingo.

He leans against the kitchen counter, stirring his coffee absentmindedly.

“What did he tell you?” He asks, feigning tranquillity. Inside he’s screaming non-stop.

She’s got her hands clasped together in front of her, almost innocently, and fiddles with her fingers, “He told me you needed assistance in the love department.” Before he can object, she continues, “And I am willing to do anything if it means our resident weirdo-slash-genius falls in love and gets to experience some much needed cuteness.”

There’s no point in lying to her. There’s also no point in being mad that Morgan told her about his situation – they’re kind of a package deal. And, who knows, Garcia might be able to help.

“So…” She sways, trying (and failing) to appear nonchalant, “Who’s the lucky lady?”

Spencer shuffles on the spot, scuffing his shoes against the floor. He debates whether he should tell her, since, you know, you’re in the next room over, but Spencer worries that Garcia is so good at her job she’d somehow find out through hacking Spencer’s phone, or maybe somehow hacking his dreams. His subconscious. He’s terrified of Garcia and her abilities.

“You can tell me.” She insists, “I’m much better at keeping secrets than Morgan.”

Spencer turns away from her, she steps closer, and he mumbles your name.

“What?”

“Y/N.”

“WHAT?!”

Spencer spins, hands coming up to tell Garcia to shut up and Garcia immediately covers her mouth in both shock and hopefully so she doesn’t shout again.

“Since when?!” She screeches. “How could I not have known?! Oh God, almighty Doctor Reid, I feel like I’ve failed you by not realising earlier.”

Her enthusiasm makes him smile, for the first time in far too long. Garcia has that power – this innate skill to comfort those around her and make them feel special, make them smile when the world feels like its collapsing.

“Let me help!” She requests.

Spencer’s clearly hesitant. He knows it’s a bad idea.

“Please!” She begs, “I just- I have so many ideas of how you can go about this. Let me brainstorm, get back to you, and if I’m too over-the-top you can tell me no and we’ll pretend it never happened!”

He takes a deep breath. Yes, Garcia is the definition of over-the-top, but that’s one of his favourite things about her. It’s your favourite thing, too. And he did tell Morgan he had big plans. Anything involving Garcia is a big plan with big payoff.

“This is between us.”

“I’ll take it to the grave. Unless you realise how amazing my ideas are and use one to tell Y/N how you feel and then years later I get to commend myself during my maid of honour speech at your wedding.”

She looks ecstatic, hands now together under her jaw as her eyes twinkle. Spencer can’t help but laugh at her eagerness.

+++

The next day, the team returns to Quantico after a semi-successful case. The general mood is good and Morgan invites everyone out for drinks – Spencer declines, but you have your first full conversation since last Friday.

“C’mon, Spence,” Your head rests against the jet seat and you blink sleepily at him, “I feel like I haven’t spoken to you for years!”

Spencer gives you a small smile, “I promised my mom I’d call her tonight. Sorry, Y/N.”

You nod in understanding, “Will you tell her I say hi?”

“Of course. She loves you.”

You grin at eachother, immediately lost in your own world. You’ve missed him more than you realised, and you have no idea what’s going through his head, but you’re happy that you’ve had this – a Spencer Reid smile that makes you feel at home and on top of the world simultaneously.

Spencer has to tear his eyes away before he blurts something stupid, like she’s not the only one that loves you.

+++

“Spencer!” Garcia greets, Cheshire cat grin on her face. “I need to see you in my dungeon, please. Immediately.”

Spencer drops the file he’s holding. Unfortunately, Penelope’s request caught the attention of the whole team.

“What business do you have in the villain’s lair, Reid?” Derek asks. You’ve looked up from your computer, Emily smirking and leaning back in her chair in expectation.

“Uh…”

“Important nerd business. Go away.” Garcia says, eyes narrow as she tugs Spencer’s hand. He’s whisked away from any further questioning, leaving the befuddled team behind.

He isn’t sure what to expect when he stumbles into Penelope’s second home, but the display in front of him explains why he overheard a conversation about missing evidence boards earlier. Penelope’s obviously been using the new printer in her cave to her advantage – there’s at least twenty different pictures printed out on one board titled “date ideas”, then the board on the right has a picture of Spencer and you in the centre with a perfectly drawn heart around it. Under and around that is a mixture of love quotes, including song lyrics and quotes directly from romantic movies. He notices “The Parliament of Fowls” on there – Garcia remembers that he mentioned it’s considered the first Valentines poem?

“Whoa,” Is all he can say.

“I know it’s a little intense,” Garcia squirms, “But! I started scrolling through Pinterest and couldn’t stop. I don’t know what came over me, maybe some type of love deity, but I started thinking about you and Y/N in a classic love film in, like, black and white and I…”

She’s out of breath from animatedly explaining.

Spencer laughs through his nose, almost a scoff, but he’s impressed. He shouldn’t have expected anything else from the Penelope Garcia.

As Spencer wanders towards the first board, Garcia follows him like a shadow, “My personal favourite is-“ She points to a picture of chocolate fondue with faceless people in very little clothing, “-this one.”

Spencer awkwardly clears his throat when he begins to think of you and him like that.

“A little much for your declaration of love, though, I get it,” Garcia nods.

He scans the board – heart speeding up when he moves from idea to idea and picturing you and him in each one. He can’t help but think no, that one would be good for our anniversary – ah, she’d love to do that one for her birthday.

“What’re you thinking?” Garcia asks quietly. She knows his brain is whirring like her computer drive, so she approaches him gently.

“This one.” He says. “Where should we do it?”

Garcia grins behind him. The one he’s referring to shows a dinner table set up outside, brown wooded table with white wooden chairs opposite eachother. There’s flowers at the centre, a bottle of wine already poured in each glass in front of a basket of cookies, and the area around is shrouded by shrubbery, fairy lights hanging delicately from every-which-way.

It’s perfect. You love fairy lights, Spencer loves cookies, and the set-up looks private enough for Spencer to feel confident when he empties his heart and soul to you.

“The roof.” Garcia says wistfully.

“We have access to that?”

“Yes.” They both know they don’t. “Leave it to me. Oh… one more thing.” She adds, hesitantly, “Can Morgan help? I’m a lot of things, including emotionally strong and your love guru, but physically I’m gonna need some assistance.”

Spencer doesn’t even need to agree – Morgan’s gonna involve himself no matter what.

+++

Five o’clock is quickly approaching and you’re slumped over your desk, lost in your work. You need to be lost in it, because ever since Garcia released Spencer from her office right after lunch he’s been sneaking glances at you (he’s not sneaky) and has made several attempts to approach you but decided against it, sharply turning and pretending he meant to go another way instead.

You are beyond confused. You assume it’s to do with the girl he’s been trying to get over – you hope he’s been trying to build the confidence to tell you exactly what happened and maybe, you really hope, he’ll invite you over for the weekend so you can slip back into your old routine.

“Psst.”

You assume they’re not trying to get your attention, so you don’t move.

“Psst!”

You still don’t move.

“Y/N!”

Your head snaps up to Spencer leaning over the divider between your desks. He looks alarmed – which is odd, given he’s the one who called you – and he opens and closes his mouth a few times before he finally speaks.

“Are you busy tonight?” He sits back and, if he wasn’t so goddamn tall, all you’d be able to see would be his eyes. His added height means you can see his eyes and his nose. You wanna kiss it.

You smile – this is an olive branch, “I am completely available for whatever it is you might need.”

You sound incredibly eager, which you are. You miss him.

His cheeks move upwards, a smile, “Can I talk to you, later, on the roof? Uh-“ He clears his throat, “-I need to tell you something.”

You raise an eyebrow, “You’re not gonna push me off, right?”

“No,” He laughs.

“Promise me.”

Now he guffaws, “I would never, Y/N!”

“Promise me, Reid!”

“Alright, alright! I promise!” He’s jokingly raising his hands in a form of surrender.

You give him another smile and turn back to your work. You feel at ease, now, thinking he’s finally gonna tell you what happened on the weekend – finally you’ll be able to help him and go back to normal.

Spencer, on the other hand, is the exact opposite of ease. He’s about to pour his heart out to you.

He takes a deep breath and looks back to his computer, which is open on a tab titled “How to Tell Someone You Like Them.”

Step 3: Be Confident.

Spencer opens a new tab and searches, “How to be confident.”

+++

Garcia hacks into Spencer’s computer to open a document and type that the roof is ready. She wishes him luck, tells him she loves him, and calls dibs on being the godmother of your future children. As if she doesn’t have enough godchildren as it is.

He clears his throat and your head snaps towards him. You’ve been done for a while, playing Tetris on your phone, waiting for Spencer to take you to the roof where he swears he won’t kill you – you’re not entirely convinced.

“Um-“ He scratches his neck, “You ready to go?”

You nod and give him a weak smile in hopes it gives him some type of reassurance.

“Whatever happened, it’s okay, Spence.”

All he does is nod in return, gathering his coat and bag. He doesn’t really register what you say, or he would’ve been very confused.

You follow him up to the roof. The elevator ride is silent and Spencer is jittery; his hands twitch and tap against his legs, he’s bouncing on his toes and he keeps looking at you through the corner of his eye. You’ve taken several deep breaths to calm your racing heart – you hate heights, and this is the closest you’ve been to Spencer in a week. This will be the longest conversation you’ve had with him in a week, too.

The second the doors open, Spencer leaps in front of you.

“Wait!”

You jump back in surprise, “What? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Completely fine. Just… when we get there, let me explain first, okay? Before you say anything.” He’s pleading, as if you’ve already told him no. You look at him with furrowed brows and mumble an ‘okay’.

You’re visibly confused as you trek up the flight of stairs to the roof. Spencer pushes open the fire door and the first thing you notice is how bright the roof is – you always assumed it’d be dark, little light, especially at night like this.

Wait.

There’s fairy lights… everywhere. You’re pretty sure this isn’t the norm for the FBI roof.

Spencer is equally as awed at what he sees before him - it’s exactly the photo he saw in Garcia’s cave brought to life, but he’s too distracted by you to fully appreciate it. You look like a child on Christmas; eyes wide, pupils blown, mouth slightly agape. You’re gorgeous.

“What…is this, Spence?” You wonder, noticing the set table, fingers grazing the roses that sit in a vase in the middle. They’re fresh and smell wonderful.

He stands a little behind you, fiddling with his hands, and clears his throat, “Would you like to take a seat?”

You do. When he finally sits, he pours you a glass of wine and you immediately take an anxious sip. Although Rossi is a big fan of wine, you rarely take interest in it only when Spencer’s involved. You’ve come to associate wine with him – a smile peeks out from your glass as you stare at the man opposite you.

“I need to get something off my chest. But there’s cookies, if you want one,” He picks one up from his plate, breaking it in half and giving it to you. He’s stalling, but you seem to take the bait and bite into it.

“Are these from the bakery two blocks away?”

“Yeah,” He replies, but he isn’t really paying attention. He doesn’t know where to begin.

You wait patiently for him to open up. You’re still unsure of what to make of all of this – the beautiful setting, the wine, the flowers, the lights. God, the lights are dazzling in the Virginia night sky. You need context, and you need it now.

“Spence-“

“Listen.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry, I just…” He trails off, “I need to say what I need to say before I back out again.”

You fold your hands in your lap. You’re ready for whatever’s to come.

“Do you know how long we’ve known eachother?” He asks. His head tilts like a puppy.

“Nearly five years. Our friendaversary is coming up, you know.”

You realise, then, that this must be a celebration for that – that explains the… typically romantic setting. Before you can open your mouth to ask if that what’s this is, Spencer speaks.

“Four years, three-hundred and sixty days. That’s how long we’ve known eachother.”

“If we were dating, we would’ve been my longest relationship the second we passed a year.”

You don’t know why you said it, but it flusters him. He has to pause to take a breath and collect his thoughts.

“I’ve been in love with you for four years and three hundred and fifty-eight days, Y/N.”

It’s silent as you process and he figures out how to continue.

“I knew you were special when you were introduced to us. Hotch already had such a soft spot for you, and you had this way about you that made us all fall in love instantly. I remember Garcia did a background check the second she found out your name and she said you remind her of me and I… that freaked me out, to be honest. I thought you’d try to replace me.” He huffs a laugh, but can’t bring himself to look you in the eye, “I realised I was in love with you when you drunkenly defended me. Do you remember that?” His eyes flicker to yours for half a second – you’re wide-eyed, “You’d known me for two days at that point, but we’d already done a case together so we were celebrating. And these guys at the bar were whispering about me, acting like I couldn’t hear them, and the second you realised what was happening you stood up, stormed towards them and gave them a piece of your mind. It was incredible.

“You barely knew me, at least personally, but you thought so highly of me you scolded a group of drunk bodybuilders without a second thought. You made them apologise – it was hysterical watching someone half their size force them into submission like that – and when you were done you asked if I wanted to leave and go get ice cream. We couldn’t, cause you vomited on the way there, but I knew in that moment I loved you and I feel so hard, so quickly, I didn’t know what to do. And you never… you never indicated you thought of me as anything other than a friend so I didn’t try. Then you dated Greg who, in my opinion, sucked on his best days, and you encouraged me to date Abigail and I…”

He’s run out of breath and of things to say.

“I just love you, Y/N. I’m in love with you.” He adds, “I hope that’s okay.”

He finally looks at you, then. You’re just staring and he panics when he can’t make out what you’re feeling. He’s always been able to read you, you’ve always hated the saying that eyes are the windows to the soul because your eyes are always your tell, but now they’re… glassy.

You’re crying.

“Spencer…” You gasp, throat tight.

“It’s okay.” Spencer gives a tight-lipped smile. He knows what’s coming. He should’ve expected it. He has been expecting it.

“I love you too, Spence.”

Spencer chokes on air. He takes a gulp of wine.

You give him a teary smile in disbelief, “I’ve always loved you, Spence. I thought you knew that – I thought that big brain of yours knew exactly how I felt and… you didn’t do anything about it so I thought you didn’t feel the same. Spencer…”

He slowly moves a hand to place it palm-up on the table. Immediately you place your hand in his, your grip tight as you lovingly stare at him. This feels unreal.

“I’m in love with you too, you idiot.” You half laugh, half cry, “If you’ve really loved me this long, we’ve wasted so much time! God, we’re both idiots.”

Spencer’s crying too, now, and he starts laughing with you.

You’re two idiots in love, sitting opposite eachother on the roof of your place of work in a dream-like surrounding filled with fairy lights and flowers, and you could’ve been doing this for years.

Spencer sniffles, looking at you through his wet eyelashes, “Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

“If I say yes, will I get more dates like this?” You tease.

“Well, Garcia has a whole evidence board of date ideas she stole from Pinterest. We have enough ideas to last a lifetime.” He giggles.

“Penny was in on this?!”

Spencer gives a heh, “This is all thanks to her, so yeah.”

“She’s always had our backs.”

“She’s also now going to be convinced she’s cupid.”

You laugh again, and can’t help yourself when you lean across the table, still gripping Spencer’s hand, and letting your lips fall on his. Spencer leans into you, lips moving against yours as you both try to suppress grins.

You pull back slightly, Spencer’s lips following you, and whisper, “I would love to be your girlfriend.”

He kisses you again. And again. And again, just cause he can.

Big plan, big payoff. You’re worth every little stress and more.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #mine #garcia is watching everything through the security cameras btw #you think she'd do all this and NOT watch her hard work flourish?#think AGAIN

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yanderecandystore · 3 years

Note

Can we get some content for how the Android darling and Ms. Bright would meet?

In this [🍰🍑🤖] we get a glimpse of what their relationship is like and a lil mention of how things have worked out- But let's see how it played out from the a.is perspective.

Hi boo, I hope you're doing great, I'm very sorry for the long ass waiting- Sadly I may warn y'all that I have gone through many stages while writing this: h 0 r ny, corny, and angsty. This is actually pretty heavy, as I tried pulling some of the loose threads that I left all over Ingrid's posts (I still need to give her an bio ;-; I'm sorry y'all-)

So this is all over the place, since this is a fic I've been writing for a long time.

Also I know jackshit about robotics, and I think this fic shows how much I don't know anything XD

TW: Family issues related to: LGBTQ identity // very angsty // Ingrid is very rude, but she also struggles a lot during this- // socially distant // socially awkward // being misinterpreted/having a hard time socializing //

Tags: angy sad lady // ownership dynamic // this is basically the reader reminiscing about the past (continuing it from where Happy Lies left off) // the reader is low-key a simp at times- // master x servant dynamic, possessive behavior and a lot of yelling // just angsty really, I'm so sorry //

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Happy birthday, mistress [Yandere!CEO OC x A.I!Reader - Short Fanfiction]

3,763 words

Whenever you remember your first day of activation, or more accurately your first day of actually being able to be activated for more than five seconds (you can't remember it fully, but you're aware that because of your complex design, you had passed through a lot of prototype phases before you could properly function-), you almost feel an odd sense of nostalgia, maybe due to the fact it was indeed the most important day of your existence as an android.

It was Ms.Bright's nineteenth birthday, when she would be handed the corporation that has been passed down by generations. And not only would she inherit the company, but also a beautifully designed a.i assistant made to help Ms.Bright's every need. You were made to be an easy communication center from Ms.Bright to the employees, as Ms.Bright's had a hard time communicating with people and expressing herself.

At first, she didn't seem to enjoy the idea very much- It was clear that she considered you to be quite annoying and useless. And- Well- It did hurt at first, after all, you were built to help her and be her friend no matter what.

So hearing her be mean towards you was… Very tough at first. Your first day as her assistant wasn't easy, you ended up getting in her way most of the time- And since she also didn't know exactly what she was doing, she got overwhelmed by so many things going down in one single day.

Ingrid has always dreamed of being in power of the company- Actually, now that you know her a little more- You can positively say she was probably just stressed at having to deal with so many responsibilities so suddenly, even if it has been her lifelong wish to inherit the company.

And even if it seems impossible at times, she would still come back strong and find a way to deal with it. That's something you really admire about her.

Your first week on the job was basically just trying to get accustomed and trying to learn everything you needed to do- While also trying to understand Ms.Bright as best as you could. Now… You weren't built to say this- And- And of course you don't think like this anymore, but…. You used to think she was really mean.

Frightening, even.

Now that you're all alone waiting for her to get back from work, you can't help but feel like replaying those moments inside your head.

"{... Replaying recorded conversation n°000050: "My second day at work"...}"

" Oh, what are you doing here?"

" Morning Ms.Bright! I-I was rechecking the files from yesterday and I was trying my best to reorganize them, a-after the incident-"

" The "incident" that you caused yesterday?"

" Well, yes, of course! I wanted to fix things up before you came back, I'm really sorry for being so reckless, I promise I won't do it again, I was just-"

"It 's fine. You don't need to worry about it."

" But… But I thought-"

" The files you had messed with weren't really all that important, and besides I'm sure there are copies all around the place. Sigh, who am I kidding- In reality, I should be the one apologizing for my behavior yesterday."

"...."

" I recognize that I shouldn't have treated you the way that I did, in a sense it's my fault you lost those files in the first place."

" … Well, it's nothing really mistress, I'm the one who should-"

" No, don't even finish it. You shouldn't have to apologize and shouldn't have spent the night wasting your battery on this-"

"...."

".... You know what, do whatever- I sometimes forget that you are… Nevermind, come back to my office as soon as you can."

"{... End of recorded conversation n°000.000.050… }"

You never knew what she was going to say, but you remember not being able to ask her that- As you were afraid of her potentially getting mad at you for asking too many questions. She always seemed so ruthless at times.

You remember the time you went to a family event with her, a family party, where an incident happened and she was absolutely livid. Your relationship with her wasn't so pretty at the time, you don't know why but- Your mistress didn't seem to trust you as much as you wish she did at the time.

"{... Replaying recorded conversation n°000.001.588: "First party ever- And it was very unpleasant" ...}"

" What's the matter with you?! Why can't you follow simple instructions- I told you to stay here and not mess around."

" I'm. So. Sorry. Mistress-"

" Even your vocal module is broken- Who told you to enter that pool in the first place?? You can't tell me you did something so stupid all on your own."

" I. Slipped.-"

" Am I a joke to you? I've said tell me who gave you the order to jump in the goddamn pool while everyone else was inside- Don't you dare start lying to me."

" … One of the. Party guests. Lost something. Inside the water. I tried helping them. But I started to. Malfunction."

" … Sigh, okay. Continue."

" It wasn't. Their fault. I did it. On my own. I was just- Trying. To help."

" By throwing yourself inside a pool when you're well aware of the damage the water can cause to your inner systems?!"

" I'm sorry!"

" You could have- No, you SHOULD have called someone else to help you, I can't believe it- You could have drowned in there and I wouldn't even be aware of that since I was inside the house, [Y/n]!"

" …. But Ms.Bright. I can't drown-"

" Yeah, yeah- I know you-... I know you can't drown."

" … Listen, you could have still gotten yourself hurt okay? You could have permanently damaged your systems, and if I wasn't made aware of what happened, I wouldn't have been able to take you out of the water in time, okay?"

"... Sigh, I just realized how much I have been yelling, everyone is probably scared now that I've made such a scandal. This… Isn't really a new thing to me, I'm accustomed to ruining parties like this. I'll have to apologise later to everyone. [Y/n], please just- When I ask you to stay still, please listen to me. I was worried about you."

"...."

"{... End of recorded conversation n°000.001.588 ...}"

You can't deny it- Whenever she was truly irritated she could make any person next to her feel threatened, though the more you look at your recordings, you feel like she doesn't really want to be feared like this. Respected? Absolutely. Feared? Not ideal, but she takes it anyway.

You have a couple of different recordings here and there, your memories are separated into sections. You have recordings of events in several formats: pictures, videos, texts and audio recordings. Though the one you use the most is audio recordings, since videos take a very big space inside your mind, and pictures need context, otherwise they wouldn't be considered memories, right?

You can't have many memories at a time because most of your mind is supposed to be used to store the company's files, so you do have a couple of memories that you have deleted to make space for the Bright Vision's more secret/personal documents. Since Ingrid took you home yesterday, and said you won't be going to work for the company anymore, then maybe you can find somewhere else to store those files so you can make space for new memories with Ms.Bright.

First, you'll need to recheck some of your own memories to see if they're worth holding onto. There is probably a lot of junk in there that you won't be needing anymore, which can be a bit tedious and take some time, but you clearly have enough time on your hands to do so, considering how she is not home and- Well, you're pretty bored, you already done everything that she asked you to do.

Honestly, she gave such small tasks today, she probably didn't plan to change your work environment so suddenly.

After about an hour of research through your data you have realized that even if you have way too many files, it's kinda hard to delete them. At first you didn't mind the idea of deleting certain stuff, but now it feels a bit sad to erase parts of your memory, you just had so many good times and- And even the bad times are worth remembering, right?

It has been an hour of you just standing there, trying your best to not delete anything important while also revising each recording you have. Most files are a bit out of order, numerically speaking, but you don't mind that too much cause- Well, you can always reorganize them later.

… You never actually do that, but you like to think that one day you will, though.

After so many recordings of conversations, you found one who didn't seem to really belong in your head. You see, you always title every single thing inside your personal archives so that it doesn't get mixed with other files- All of your memories have a specific title so that you can have an idea of which is which.

The thing is- You don't remember this file, the title seems off, and it seems like it's incomplete. Oddly broken. Still, you decided to take a listen and try to remember what happened in this event.

"{... Replaying recorded conversation n°000.068.xxx: "I yell too much" ...}"

"...."

This is a very silent audio, there seems to be some background noise happening, but you can't make out what's happening. This audio sounds distorted, edited maybe. Someone tried messing with your memories but they weren't able to completely erase this file.

Maybe they were inexperienced at the time.

"...."

You think you heard something, it sounded closer to you- It sounded like someone possibly sitting down next to you. You don't know who it is, or what it is

"...."

".... I'm such a mess. Why am I doing this? Why does this feels so-"

"...."

It seems like someone is speaking, but you're not speaking back. Even in this heavily edited audio, you can still make out what sounds to be a feminine voice.

".... I'm sorry for, well, using you this way. It feels- So, so weird."

"...."

".... I just want… No, I need to vent to you for a while, even if you won't remember what I'm going to say."

This audio gives you an odd sensation. You think you're starting to recognize who this is- But then again, who else could it be, if not Ms.Bright herself?

" I never did this before, with something so- Human like- With something so human looking. I used to record my thoughts on my phone but I thought I would never need to vent with an object before- But here I am! Making a fool of myself…"

"...."

The speaker, who you assume to be Ingrid, seems to be having a lot of trouble speaking, her voice is cracking and her breathing seems uneven. She sounds out of breath, and she takes a lot of pauses to be able to speak her mind.

"...."

".... I have…. Thought about opening myself in this way because- Because I have no one else to listen to it, and I guess I can only blame myself for it. I know I'm difficult, I know I'm rude and I know I come across as a tyrant to everyone else- I- I really don't know what 's wrong with me, okay?!"

" Years, and years, and years of training, of studying, of planning to become the very next owner of this corporation as it's already not only a job but also a very painful family tradition that I felt proud of! That I gave everything that I could to be part of! I remember wanting this so bad, I remember how I used to daydream about this stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid tradition when I was a little kid who just wanted to do more, to be more!"

".… I almost lost all of this. 19 years of my life that were threatened to be thrown in the trash just because I- Because I'm not his son??! Because I- I'm not his only "son" anymore??.... Who said I ever was- Who said I ever was his son…?"

".... I- I know all about the stupid, awful and extremely unnecessary tradition of passing the leadership from father to son, and to this very day- inside the same office all of my predecessors had went through- I still think that tradition is garbage. I always thought I wouldn't make it here, I always thought something would stop me from being the next face of Bright Vision."

".... I can't tell- If I always knew about this- I can't even imagine how I knew this considering the dumb kid that I was, but…"

".... I'm his daughter. I'm Mr.Bright's only daughter, and the only possible heir to this twisted company."

" The people outside think our only focus it's on robotics and technology of all kinds. I wish I could go back to thinking that too, it would have been so much simpler that way."

" After a very long fight about my rights as the heir to this- Company. My father thought it would be wise to move to the countryside. Far away from all of this. And to be fair, I was- So, so mad at him that I thought that him moving away from here and letting me be would be better, but every now and then I- I miss him. I miss him so much…."

"He sent me a birthday present today. After three years of absolute silence he sends me flowers and- And a gift card containing his number… And I- Called him despite everything, and even so to this day he can't even say my name- IT'S BEEN THREE YEARS AFTER HE LEFT ME ALL ALONE WITH THIS CURSED BUSINESS AND HE STILL CAN'T FUCKING. SAY. MY. NAME."

You felt scared at the sudden yelling, even if her voice was progressively getting more aggressive and louder, you still got caught up by the sudden yelling.

".... I'm- A mess- I know that now."

You can't understand what's going on, but it sounds like she started laughing… Or maybe crying? Probably both.

".... I'm just terrible at this. I always was, weren't I? I'm just terrible at these types of interactions- Maybe all of them! I just don't understand how to- How to do it?? I don't know anymore…."

".... That's why I have you, in the first place, isn't it?"

" I had such an awful time expressing myself that they gave me an overpriced doll to do it for me. When I first heard about this three years ago, I- I've felt so fucking pitiful."

" Can you imagine it? The CEO of such a big corporation is so difficult to deal with that she needs an overly glorified doll that can translate her words to the other employees! An a.i created just to help me, an absolute idiot!"

".... I've felt so angry at them- I felt so angry at him for having to build a robot just to be a comfort pet to the stressful work that I would have to do for the rest of my position as owner of Bright Vision Corp, and I was mad at you! You pissed me off to no end, and I- I just couldn't help but be frustrated at you, not for being in my way, but for being an reminder that I'm awful at this-"

"...."

Her sobs stopped her from continuing that sentence.

".... I've treated you so unfairly because of this. I- I made sure that whenever you looked at me you would feel terrified of me because that's the only way I thought I could be respected, that's the only way I thought you would listen to me, and yet you never did…. You weren't built to follow my every order perfectly, you were made to be literally my only friend, after 22 years, here you are- The only person that can get me isn't even an actual person-"

"..... And I forget this…! I forget this every time I look at your eyes, I forget how robotic you are whenever I see you helping others not because you were told to, but just because you thought you could."

"...."

".... I always forget that you're supposed to be just another robot… He really did think about everything when designing you."

".... I always catch myself being awful towards you, being- Being excessively rude, not because of my way of talking but because of my own petty feelings towards you as my assistant… As my friend, as my android, as my-"

"...."

"..... I'm so sorry for being like this, you don't deserve to have someone who is constantly being mean towards you be considered your boss- Your boss, your friend- ...Sigh, even your owner…"

" I'm sorry [Y/n], I'm really, really sorry- But it doesn't matter how many times I say that- I don't know if I can ever make it up to you. Words won't heal any wounds, they never did."

"...."

".... But maybe actions will."

"...."

" I'll stop being so harsh on you, you really don't deserve this- I was feeling weird about using your recording system to vent like this, but now that I think about it I have been using you as a venting mechanism since the day we met……. I'm- I'm so goddamn awful."

"...."

" "How can someone so in love be so cruel?".... Would you be able to answer me if you were conscious?.... I don't think you would, no one has been able to tell me the right answer yet."

".... I hope I can be better- I will be better."

"...."

" I just need to remember how to delete this file before you wake up- I hope I can do that. End recording."

"{... End of recorded conversation n°000.068.xxx …}

………….

It took you about an hour or so to be able to process what you have just listened to. And even then, you weren't able to fully comprehend what happened.

Ms.Bright- No, Ingrid- Ingrid has used your recording system while you were out, she probably tried deleting the file but because she was inexperienced with your kind of technology, she decided to just edit it and try to make it unlistenable.

It was- Barely audible but you still got to understand some of it.

Did she- Did she forget to completely erase it? Did she forget entirely??? You're not sure.

You don't know why but a sudden wave of- Something- Something feels so odd about this-

You don't know how to respond really. You don't feel mad about her ranting to you, you don't even feel bad about her ranting to you while you weren't aware- You feel bad, but not because of her but because of the emotional turmoil she has been hiding from you.

Should you do something? Should you say something?? How do you even- You don't know how respond to this-

You're programmed to comfort her, yet- This file is already old, and she didn't want you to remember this so maybe it won't be the best idea to bring it up, but what can you do??!

Maybe you just need to rethink this through, maybe you should listen to audio again, and try to figure out what's the best way to help her out when she comes back.

You're honestly baffled at the idea that someone like her had so much to confess to- You probably shouldn't have seen her as an unstoppable goddess in the first place, but then again- Even after hearing her open herself, even after listening to her insecurities- Your opinion of her hasn't changed.

She was holding this for so long, no wonder she always seems on edge.

She 's only human. Yet you never really saw her as just that.

She was always so much larger than you, so much stronger than what your fabricated body was, and she always sounded so much smarter and- And she was just always so… Terrifyingly beautiful to you.

Ingrid Bright was always considered a very good looking individual, but no one ever considered her to be much else because of her way of speaking to others (which may sound rude and occasionally condescending, causing others to avoid her as much as they could), but you always thought she was so much more than that-

It's hard to even explain it really, ever since you met you have started to understand the concept of how beauty and fear can mix together, you find her to be so beautiful, yet her demeanor and stature makes you feel afraid of her for some reason- And even worse than that, the fear she may unconsciously bring you makes her seem more beautiful in your eyes.

You shouldn't think of her as scary or frightening, she is your boss, your master and your owner, there is no reason for why you should feel this way towards her- But then again, there is no reason for you to even feel in the first place, you were just built to do so.

You don't think she means harm to anyone, after getting to know her you realize why her behavior can be misinterpreted as mean and scary- Ms.Bright always had a hard time socializing with others, even her family had a hard time understanding her, so maybe that's why she grew to have such a tough exterior.

As someone that was built to make the communication between CEO and employees easier, you've had to learn to understand her to be able to help others understand her as well, and vice versa. It wasn't easy, and you wouldn't say that you know her completely well- But you feel proud of the work you have done so far, you're her loyal companion but more importantly a friend.

Funny how much you learned not only about her, the employees, or even the business of the company- But also about humans in general in these five years of working for her, it makes you feel more whole when you remember how much you have achieved.

You hope you can somehow help her right now, and to help her from here on out. You decide to wait for her and possibly talk about how she feels and how she deals with said feelings. Hopefully all ends well.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Sorry for the loose ending! I was feeling very tired ;-; but if anyone wants it I could totally make a second chapter with a better ending.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#sheep's stuff #yandere oc #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x female reader #yandere x reader fanfic #yandere fanfic #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x reader fanfic #yandere ceo fanfiction #yandere ceo x reader #yandere ceo x robot reader #yandere ceo #special delivery request #special delivery fanfiction

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fromiftowhen · 4 years

Text

fic: a little mystery to figure out (an Upstead one-shot)

For the seventh day of the @upsteadofficial Christmas prompt challenge -- MISTLETOE.

Rated T | 2544 words | Title from Something To Talk About by Bonnie Raitt

“Hey, so, just so you’re aware, someone hung mistletoe all over the district,” her voice greets him over the phone as he’s pulling into the parking lot.

“Ooh, okay,” he says. “Why, you scared you’re gonna have to kiss me?”

“Ha,” she fake laughs, and he smiles. “Just, you know. If we’re still not telling people at work, it might be best to try to avoid it.”

“You’re just worried you won’t be able to control yourself,” he says, and it’s her turn to laugh.

Her voice lowers to a whisper, and he can picture the smile perfectly. “Mmm, maybe, but better safe than sorry.”

“Okay,” he says. “I’m headed in now. I’ll try to restrain myself.”

Her back is to him as he walks up the stairs, but he’s pretty sure he can still see the eye roll as he pockets his phone and holds a cup of coffee out in front of her.

“Quick, while no one’s here, any mistletoe around?” He whispers, her lips quirking into a smile around the rim of the cup.

“Thanks,” she says.

“Thank Will,” he tells her, dropping his bag by his desk. “He bought this morning.”

“Cool, let me just head over to Med and find some mistletoe there,” she says, and he groans.

“That’s rude. But, seriously,” he says, glancing around quickly before leaning in to give her a quick kiss, black coffee somehow sweet on her lips. “Morning.”

“Morning,” she whispers. “Even though I saw you an hour ago,” she says.

He perches on the edge of her desk, his thigh an inch from her mouse, watching her sip the coffee. “Oh, I remember.”

She smirks, setting down the coffee and pushing his thigh away as footsteps fall on the stairs. “Don’t worry,” he whispers, standing up. “I can be stealthy, no worries about the mistletoe.”

——————————

Except, of course, for someone she’s literally watched dodge bullets, he’s so unstealthy she’s pretty sure he’s actively trying to find all the mistletoe.

The first time, as she’s walking out of the breakroom and he’s walking in, Kim stops them.

“Oh, you guys. Look up.”

Hailey glances up and rolls her eyes, but she’s cursing herself a little too. She knew it was there, she just hadn’t been paying attention.

She shakes her head. “Guys. We’re at work, this isn’t really the place.”

Kim shakes her head. “Come on, it’s tradition. It’s just in good fun. Besides, Kev and Adam already took one for the team, can’t let them suffer alone.”

Jay smirks, and behind them, she hears Kevin groan.

“We said we were never talking about that again,” he says, and Adam laughs.

“Aww, man, can’t stop thinking about it, can you? Your cheek is very soft,” he says, reaching out his fingers to pinch Kevin’s cheek. Kevin stops him, holding up a hand.

“I love you man, but I will taze you.”

Kim shushes them, turning back expectantly to Hailey and Jay in the breakroom doorway. “Let’s see it.”

Hailey groans and Jay raises an eyebrow at her.

Maybe she’s overselling it.

“Yes, this is torture for you, I know,” he laughs, leaning in to press a kiss to her temple. ”There. We good?”

She smiles, just a tiny flash of the curve of her lips.

“Boring!” Adam yells, and Kim just rolls her eyes at them before turning back to her desk.

Crisis averted.

——————————

Except, of course. The crisis is not averted.

Platt stops them for a mail call on their way back inside after a call, and maybe it’s because they’ve already kissed once, but his guard is down.

“Hey, dummies,” Platt calls, right as they’re about to head upstairs.

They turn back, and she points up, raising her eyebrows.

“Seriously?” He watches Hailey’s face twist in annoyance.

“Did you know that one was there?” She asks, her whisper pointed.

“No,” he mutters. “Come on, let’s get it over with.”

She raises an eyebrow at him, like really? and he shrugs, trying not to grin.

Footsteps on the stairs distract him for a moment, and he turns to find Kim, Adam, and Kevin traipsing down the stairs toward them.

“Oh, did you all get caught again? Bad luck,” Kevin says.

Hailey rolls her eyes, and Jay takes the opportunity to lean in and press a kiss against her cheek, and it’s just like every kiss he’s pressed to her cheek in the kitchen, on his way out the door, or at night, in bed, before she rolls over.

“Happy?” he asks, and he doesn’t let himself look at Hailey, because if she smiles, he’ll smile. When he risks a glance at Platt, she’s smirking, but he just chalks it up to Platt being Platt.

He’s pretty sure he hears Kim sigh, though, and he files that away to discuss with Hailey later.

——————————

Honestly, she and Jay should’ve just stayed home in bed today, she’s pretty sure.

The whole team is headed downstairs to the motor pool, she and Jay leading the way when Adam’s voice stops them.

“Oh, I think the third kiss is required to be on the lips,” he says, pointing up.

“I'm pretty sure this is rigged,” she mutters. “Kim hasn't had to kiss anybody.”

“Kim is observant,” Kim says, laughing. “I mean, if you want me to kiss you, Hailey, we can do that. But the guys would all die, do you really wanna have to train new partners?”

“No, yeah, we can handle that,” Jay says, grinning down at her. “You and Kim feel free to kiss, right guys?”

The other two idiots nod, and Kim and Hailey just roll their eyes.

“Let's just get this show on the road,” she says, leaning up to press her lips to Jay’s. It's easy, natural, and she has to remind herself to pull back before she lets herself fall into it, into him, like she so easily could.

“Better?” She asks, and she tries not to let them see her flushed cheeks in the dim light of the stairwell.

Jay shrugs, and she's gonna remember that later tonight.

“Adequate,” Kim says, and it sounds like a critique. She sounds a little disappointed.

“You all suck,” she mutters, heading out the door.

——————————

He's pretty sure they've made it through the day without anyone finding out, and he risks following Hailey out to the parking lot to debrief before heading home.

“A shrug, really?” She smirks, and yeah, he's gonna pay for that one.

“Just keeping up appearances,” he grins, leaning into her. “Try again tonight and I’ll give you my honest review.”

She rolls her eyes, pushing him away right as Kim, Adam, and Kev exit the building toward them.

“Molly’s?” Kim calls, and Hailey glances at him. He shrugs again, and she nods.

“Sure. See you there.”

Hailey’s headlights follow him out of the parking lot, and he tries to remind himself they’ll still be in public, around coworkers, for another couple hours.

——————————

Molly’s is quieter than usual, and by the time they’ve all gotten drinks and settled at a table, he’s feeling more relaxed with Hailey next to him. There doesn’t appear to be any mistletoe in sight, so it feels pretty status quo, keeping his hands to himself in public.

Except, of course.

Kim, Adam, and Kevin drain their beers like they’ve been parched for thirst, and he eyes them all critically. It’s his night to buy the second round, and they seem determined to make him ante up.

“Hailey, go help him,” Kevin says, and he watches Hailey shoot him an excuse me? look. Off her look, Kevin laughs. “Dude, Kim ordered the biggest drink the bar sells, he’s gonna need an extra hand, and you’re closest.”

It’s true, and he gestures over his shoulder to the bar.

In retrospect, they both let their guard down way too easily.

“Are they being a little weird?” Hailey asks as they wait for their drinks a couple minutes later. He nods, glancing over his shoulder. For a table full of cops, none of them is being very stealth, and he’s felt three pairs of eyes on his back for the last couple minutes.

“Hey, is it a little weird that there was mistletoe literally all over the district today and besides Kev and Adam, you and I are the only ones who kissed?” He asks, playing the day over in his mind. He’d watched patrolmen walk right under mistletoe in front of Platt, and he’d been the one to call out Adam and Kevin this morning.

She raises an eyebrow, and he can see the wheels turning in her head.

“Jesus, you’re right,” she whispers. “Do you think they know? Are they testing us?”

He shrugs, watching Kim’s eyes track their every movement. “What if they do know?”

She glances away, and he watches a small smile quirk the corner of her lips. “I mean, we’re gonna tell them eventually, right?”

He nods and lets his fingers brush hers on the edge of the bar. “Eventually could be today, if you were ready.”

She bites her lip, and he prepares for her to say no. They haven’t fought about it, but there have been discussions. It’s been months since she came home from New York and they let themselves slowly fall into this, and he knows initially they were both nervous about anyone else finding out. Workplace relationships have been notoriously faulty for both of them, and honestly? Keeping it a secret, having to keep his hands to himself for hours on end, has been both harder and hotter than he’d anticipated, and he knows, from the way her lips find his the second they’re alone at the end of a long day, that she agrees.

But being able to hug her on a hard day, or reach over and kiss her in the locker room just because, or in the stairwell or doorway or lobby without mistletoe? He knows that would be better than any secret, if she’s ready.

Her nails trace over the back of his hand, and she smiles slowly. She’s about to say something when Hermann comes over with their drinks, a suspicious looking twinkle in his eye.

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” he says, before setting their drinks down and holding up a sprig of mistletoe above their heads.

Jay grins, shaking his head, and lets himself lean over the bar like he’s gonna kiss Hermann.

“I will end you, son,” he says, and Jay holds up his hands, leaning back.

“Unless Hailey over here secretly wants to kiss me, I’m assuming this isn’t for me,” he says.

He watches Hailey smile, glancing at Hermann. “Sorry,” she whispers. “Not gonna happen.”

Hailey glances back to look at him. “Hey, Hermann,” she says, and something about the way she’s grinning makes Jay’s stomach twist. “Thanks, but we don��t need the mistletoe.”

Hermann shrugs, dropping the mistletoe on the bar and walking away, and Jay grins down at her as she lifts up on her tiptoes and presses her lips to his. He pulls her in, his arm around her waist, and lets himself kiss her like they’re not in public, like he can’t hear chairs scraping over at their table, like he’s been wanting to ever since he forced himself out of her warm embrace in bed this morning.

Her mouth opens under his and he feels her smile into the kiss as her nails trail up the back of his neck. She arches into him, and she feels as good against him as she always does, but maybe better, because it’s not hidden anymore.

She pulls back slowly, and he chases her down for one more quick kiss, and it’s only then that he realizes Kim, Adam, and Kevin are beside them.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Adam says, holding up his hands. “You guys have clearly done that before.”

“Yeah, dude,” Jay says, his hands still holding Hailey close. “You were there for three of them today.”

“No, no,” Kim says, a faster pace and higher pitch than Jay’s ever heard from her. “We saw three boring, annoyed kisses. This was none of those things.”

Hailey shrugs, her shoulder against his chest. “Guess we just learn fast.” He’s happy she picked up on his silent desire to mess with them all a little. It only seems fair.

Kevin shakes his head. “Nope. Not buying it.”

He glances at Hailey. It’s her call.

“What was the goal here, guys? We’ve figured out we were the only ones unknowingly participating in this mistletoe extravaganza today, minus Kevin and Adam.”

“That was a mistake,” Kevin says, and beside him, Adam grins.

“Was it though?” Adam asks, shit-stirring grin firmly in place.

Kim just rolls her eyes, turning the attention back to him and Hailey. “We thought we’d just… nudge you all in the right direction, make you realize you wanted to kiss each other. The tension has been unbearable these last few months. Blame Platt, she was the mastermind.”

He glances at Hailey and nods. “Well, shocker.”

Hailey’s fingers drag down his back and he watches Kim put two and two together.

“We were trying to nudge you together and you’re already together,” she says, shoving Adam’s shoulder roughly.

“What the hell, Kim?” He mutters, but Jay watches him exchange glances with Kevin.

“Dude,” Kevin says, smiling, and Adam grins.

Kim recovers and sighs. “Oh, thank god. We thought you guys were just bad at this. You were just playing us right back, you didn’t want us to know. I was worried I’d called it wrong.”

He smiles, pressing his lips to the top of Hailey’s head as she leans further against him.

“The tension was unbearable, because we’ve been keeping our hands to ourselves for months at work,” he says. “Honestly, I can kinda see why none of you have made detective yet. We barely tried to hide it.”

“They tried to do something nice,” Hailey says, pressing her lips to his chin. “Stupid, but nice.”

He nods, his hand finding her back pocket and pulling her closer.

Kim glances between them. “No, you know what? You two are way more grossly affectionate than I counted on. Kinda at my limit already.”

He laughs and feels Hailey’s shoulders shake against him. “I feel like you asked for this though.”

Kim shakes her head. “Nope.” Kevin and Adam trail her back to the table, and Hailey pulls back just slightly to look up at him.

“I think that went as well as could be expected,” she says.

He nods. “Agreed. Can we get outta here, though? It’s cool we can be us around them now, but right now, I just wanna be us alone.”

“Mhmm,” she whispers, leaning into kiss him once more. “But if you ever shrug after I kiss you again, I’ll end you.”

He laughs, tugging lightly at her ponytail. “Somehow, I’m more scared of that threat from you than from Hermann.”

“Yeah, and don’t forget it.”

He grins, reaching over to grab the mistletoe Hermann left on the bar. She rolls her eyes, but he just shrugs, following her toward the door. “Just in case.”

“Better safe than sorry,” she says, tossing a wave toward their table and leading him out of the bar.

#my fic #upsteadofficial #upsteadxmaspc2020 #upstead #jay halstead #hailey upton #chicago pd #chicago pd fanfiction #(this one is technically two hours late east coast time but it happened and i'm proud of myself for writing something for all seven days)

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thepetulantpen · 4 years

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(Happy Valentine’s Day! Here’s my annual Saimota fic. As usual, keep an eye out for saimota fanart by @fancy-kryptonite)

The anticipation leading up to Valentine’s Day is persistent, all-consuming, and, above all, irrational. It builds and builds past the point of overthinking and well into sleepless nights.

Holidays are always like this- a sort of performance anxiety to be happy, to make a day special. In a sense, it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. He knows it can’t possibly be perfect, so he ruins it for himself before he starts.

It reaches a breaking point in the form of him mentally throwing up his hands, tired of debating with himself. There have been enough grand, somewhat ridiculous gestures over the last few years. No one is expecting him to do anything elaborate, least of all Kaito- who Shuichi finds sprawled out on the grass, a pile of books abandoned at his side. Unconcerned with the holiday a few days away.

“I was thinking we could try something normal this year.”

Kaito raises his head, not confused by the non-sequitur, but mildly offended- insofar as any of Kaito’s expressions can be called mild. “I thought our other dates were normal?”

“Simple. I meant simple.” Shuichi can’t help smiling- only Kaito would consider scavenger hunts and secret love letters normal. He sits down beside Kaito, trying not to crush any of the books, borrowed far past their return date. “Easier to plan.”

Kaito looks relieved, and ecstatic- the latter of which is not particularly comforting. “Right, right. I’ve got the perfect thing.”

That’s fast, even for Kaito. Shuichi tries not to let it get to him- he hasn’t thought of anything specific yet. “Well, I figured we could each pick something- you take the morning, and I’ll take the afternoon?” Hopefully, that’ll give him enough time. “If you don’t mind. I mean, I could go first, if you’d rather.”

“Nah, I’ve got it covered.” He pats Shuichi on the back, with his usual lack of awareness of his own strength. “I won’t disappoint you, sidekick.”

I’ve really got to talk him into a new title.

He certainly sounds confident, but Shuichi has never known Kaito to not sound confident. He’d been thinking coffee or movies, but if Kaito has something perfect, then Shuichi has to step up his game. There’s only a day or two left- what could he do in that time?

“Shuichi? Did you hear me?” Kaito leans into his line of sight, waving his hand in front of Shuichi’s face. There’s no telling how long he’s been doing that for. He must take Shuichi’s expression for an apology, as he repeats himself, “I’ll text you the details. It’s a surprise, so don’t try to detect it, alright?”

Oh, good. Another thing for me to obsessively think about it.

“I won’t, I promise.”

Kaito doesn’t look convinced. Shuichi can’t say he is, either.

…

Despite Kaito’s insistence that Shuichi would guess before they got there, the escape room ends up being a pleasant surprise. The waiting room is charming, filled with props to take pictures with and a massive winners board, and the hallway is filled with unassuming doors labeled with puns related to their theme. Their room is, fittingly, made out to be the scene of an old-timey murder- Shuichi and Kaito, wearing the deerstalker hats hung near the door, being the detectives called in to solve it.

It only occurs to Shuichi about halfway through that he’s spending Valentine’s Day rifling through blood-stained documents about a fictional murder while Kaito yells nonsense guesses to word puzzles from across the room. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

“What if we arranged the dominos in a star shape? Is that anything?”

Shuichi glances up from the nearly illegible pages that have been unceremoniously shifted to his responsibility and finds Kaito juggling a tin of dominos and an armful of paintings that had once been on the walls. Those, at least, were meant to come off.

“Uh,” Shuichi hesitates, caught between about three puzzles at once- one of them being Kaito, in general, “It couldn’t hurt?”

Kaito grins, obviously happy to do something. The paintings are scattered across the table, now crowded with other clues jumbled beyond recognition. From a glance, Shuichi can see that the lines painted on might actually make a star- but he doubts someone’s been assigned to watch the camera and wait for them to artistically arrange the dominos.

Kaito is not stupid. He’s practically an astronaut and, aside from that, he can be brilliant with people, far more insightful than Shuichi. It’s just- he tends to think in the abstract, approaching problems in a way no one else would. Meaning that the people who made these puzzles would never arrive at the solutions Kaito picks out.

It doesn’t help that he refuses to use their hints, under any circumstances. The employee running the room had only egged him on by telling him no one had ever solved it in time without using a hint- Shuichi had accepted their fate, after hearing that.

The intercom clicks on, the false cheer of their game master giving them a five-minute warning. Kaito scoffs, confidence never dulled, but the tension in his shoulders betrays him- his hands, over the dominos, have stopped, apparently realizing it’s not getting him anywhere.

Shuichi had told himself, while they were waiting for the room to reset, that he wouldn’t take over. It’s supposed to be a casual game between the two of them, no pressure to win. Plenty of people fail these things, and they still have fun.

He has a feeling Kaito is not one of those people.

“We still have plenty of time,” Shuichi assures, surprised to sound so confident, “I think the dominos are color-coded. Take these,” he hands off one of the papers, still running through combinations on the others, “and give organizing them a shot.”

Kaito gives him a mock salute, but rises to the task. As predicted, he moves through the dominos quickly- giving Shuichi time to hurriedly unlock the next two safes. He’s had those figured out for a while, having thought he would have more time to guide them to the right answer.

The solutions themselves are not terribly difficult. Nothing like solving crime, in any practical way, but they force him to slow down and connect all the pieces, adding up how every seemingly unrelated item fits together.

“I’ve got it!” Kaito grins, the triumphant click of dominos set in the right position- a key to another code. “What’s next?”

“It corresponds to the filing cabinet,” he’s practically on autopilot as the clock ticks down, the flash of red numbers in his periphery, “I’ll take the desk drawers.”

It puts them shoulder to shoulder, both rapidly setting combinations and trading half-shouted numbers, unnecessary given their closeness. Kaito finishes first, so he gets to watch over Shuichi’s shoulder as he guesses the last clue.

For a second, it looks like he’s gotten it wrong, that he’s failed them both, before the lights flicker dramatically. They all go out, save for a hidden projector that lights up one wall with the image of a wailing ghost- ah, he’d forgotten they were supposed to be avenging some spirit. He’ll admit, he wasn’t listening very closely during the introduction, distracted by Kaito’s grin as he took in the room.

Kaito jumps about a foot in the air- clearly, he hadn’t been paying much attention either. Shuichi takes his arm, hoping to keep him from stepping on any of the discarded paintings.

“The necklace,” Kaito yells over the sound effects, wide eyed, “she wants the necklace!”

On impulse, Shuichi dives for it, digging through the pile they’ve accumulated, and tosses it to Kaito. He doesn’t present it to her so much as he holds it up as if it’s a crucifix he could use to exorcise her. The projection, unlike a real ghost, thankfully doesn’t mind his rudeness.

“I may finally be at peace.”

Figures that Kaito would be the one to bring peace to the ghost. It makes Shuichi smile, even as the lights are turned on abruptly, bringing an anti-climactic end to their adventure. The clock is paused at 17 seconds- not exactly a record to brag about, but he’ll take it.

On their way out, Kaito elbows him to get his attention. “So, how long did you know the answers?”

Shuichi smiles and says, “Not long.” Which, judging from his expression, Kaito translates to “since we got in the room.”

Kaito doesn’t seem bothered, not like Shuichi thought he might be. If anything, he looks delighted.

“We made a fantastic team, as usual. Under my guidance, of course.” He messes up Shuichi’s hair, a habit he didn’t bother kicking once they started dating. “With our smarts combined, we could do anything. You could be the first detective on the moon, you know?”

“I don’t know, maybe my calling is in paranormal investigations,” he teases, pretending not to notice Kaito’s grimace, “we could go on ghost hunts together.”

Kaito scowls, and Shuichi presses on, baiting the hook, “Unless you’re scared?”

“No man, nor beast, has ever bested me.” Kaito’s frown is close to genuine indignation, offended that Shuichi would consider him below ghosts. “Ghosts don’t even have bodies. I’ll take on a ghost, any time, any day.”

Luckily for Kaito, Shuichi thinks it’s unlikely he’ll ever have to deliver on that promise. “We’ll save that for another weekend, then.” He picks up the pace, leading the way, for once. “I’ve got something a little more romantic than a ghost hunt, this time.”

If Kaito looks inordinately relieved, Shuichi is generous enough not to notice.

…

Most people can tell when Shuichi is overthinking something. Most people know that answer is “always”.

Kaito can tell when Shuichi is thinking of overthinking something. The calm before the storm, the buzz of energy that has him tapping his foot incessantly while staring into space. It started well before their date, carrying into the weekend of Valentine’s Day.

It all hits in the form of an over-packed backpack and piles of printed maps, stacked in the backseat. Shuichi has a schedule, complete with an annotated map of their hiking trail and final destination.

“We should make it there just as it gets dark enough to see stars. It’ll be a perfect view.”

The emphasis is obviously placed on perfect, Shuichi’s smile just a bit forced. Kaito gives the map a once-over- credit where credit is due, it looks as close to the perfect spot as you could get- and gives Shuichi a smile. “I’m sure it’ll be great.”

He may not be a detective, but it’s not hard to figure out that anything Shuichi comes up with will be incredible. It’d be difficult to have a bad time with Shuichi; any time spent with him feels like time well spent. The beautiful hiking trail is only a bonus.

Kaito wouldn’t be surprised if Shuichi’s plans were flawless, every second mapped out. Every funny looking tree, every set of tracks in the ground- all set up for Kaito to notice, or for them to use as landmarks. Shuichi could say he’s set the stars on a timer, and Kaito might just believe him. If anyone could do it, it’d be Shuichi.

The sky, however, seems to have other plans.

The clouds start rolling late in the afternoon and stick around stubbornly after the sun sets, filtering reds and purples through grey film. At certain angles, Kaito can see the moon in their gaps, but there’re hardly any stars persevering through. Dark grey shadows move over what might have otherwise been a fairly bright sky, now dimmed to a heavy static.

It's remarkable in its own right, patterns of grey standing out starkly against the abyss of the night sky. It feels like the clouds are the only thing between them and limitless space, a simple barrier to surpass. Kaito only feels more drawn to it, eager to peel back the layers to see the stars for himself.

“I checked the weather,” Shuichi mutters, miserably, “I had three backups, and I was sure this one would be clear skies. I even looked up the constellations you could see from here-“

“That’s alright.” The grass has started to cool rapidly in the darkness, no springtime warmth remaining to greet them. Kaito lays out his coat to sit on, instead, and leaves Shuichi the more generous half. “It’s a great view, like you said.”

Shuichi squints at him, suspicious. “You can’t see any stars.”

“Stars aren’t the only thing I came here to see.” Kaito puts an arm around Shuichi’s shoulders, pulling against his side. He’s never embarrassed to be close to Shuichi, but he’ll admit he likes it best when it’s just the two of them, no distractions, no threat of self-consciousness. “It’s perfect.”

Shuichi looks down, hiding a smile. “Next you’ll be dropping cheesy lines with star metaphors.”

“There’s nothing wrong with star metaphors!”

He should be offended when Shuichi laughs at that, but he can’t bring himself to pretend. Shuichi’s laugh is reward enough- even if, objectively, star metaphors are among the best romantic gestures.

He’s still got work to do, as Shuichi sits silently beside him, staring at the galaxy print of Kaito’s jacket to avoid looking at the sky. It’s obvious he’s under the impression that he’s failed somehow, which just won’t do. As the hero to his sidekick, it’s Kaito’s responsibility to let him know he’s wrong- just, perhaps, not in those exact words.

Kaito nudges Shuichi and leans forward, craning his neck to get the best view of the clouds above them. “You’re underestimating the sky. Look, there’s always something beautiful to see.”

He points at the formations of clouds, shapes made of negative space against the moonlight. Their tops are highlighted by the escaping light, scattering over the uneven, cottony surface. Shuichi’s head tilts to follow him- it reminds Kaito of the escape room, focus taking over his expression. It’d almost feel out of place here, beneath the clouds with nothing of substance to analyze, if Kaito wasn’t used to seeing it all the time, for anything from figuring out a new coffee machine to spoiling a detective show by guessing the killer early.

“That one looks like a bear,” Kaito takes Shuichi by the shoulders, directing him to the cloud in question, “See? The other clouds are like the salmon it’s chasing.”

Shuichi doesn’t manage to sound very convincing, but he tries his best when he agrees, “I think I see it.”

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you you’re a terrible liar, Shuichi?”

Shuichi elbows him in retaliation, turning away from the stars to look up at him. He’s going for disapproving, but Kaito can see through him, far easier than seeing through the cloud layer.

Somedays, it’s hard to believe that Shuichi bothers to hang around with him. Kaito considers himself good company, but for Shuichi? He’s not sure he qualifies- and yet here they are, under the stars. Or clouds, as it is.

“One day, I’ll bring you to see the stars up close. We’ll go high above the clouds and into the night sky.” Kaito holds him closer, no longer interested in looking at the sky. “Just the two of us.”

“I’d like that.” Shuichi leans more into him, pushing for room on Kaito’s jacket. When he smiles this time, he doesn’t hide it. “I’ll have to consider space for next Valentine’s Day.”

He doesn’t sound serious, like he doesn’t completely believe Kaito will be able to pull it off. That’s alright- he has plenty of time to prove him wrong.

Kaito’s not being completely honest, anyway. Space isn’t his ideal Valentine’s Day- and it’s not an escape room, or star-gazing, either. It’s by Shuichi’s side, wherever that might be. If it’s watching reruns of mysteries he’s memorized the solutions to, or teasing him for his choice of black coffee, or just laying on the grass, staring up at the same sky.

The promise of another Valentine’s with Shuichi makes it all worth it. Kaito doesn’t need much else- though, he’s still looking forward to sweeping the clearance section of chocolates.

#Valentine’s Day #saimota #shuichi saihara #kaito momota #danganronpa v3 #pseudo-sequel to my other saimota fics #this is very rough but ill probably do another round of edits before i post on ao3 in a few days

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3pirouette · 4 years

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Fic: Domestic Bliss and International Espionage (1/1)

Title: Domestic Bliss and International Espionage By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette Spoilers: General TFA and AC Disclaimer: They're not mine. Word Count: 8109 Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Story Summary: For Tumblr’s @superhero-daugthers11 as a pinch hit for the Steggy Secret Santa. Steve and Peggy, back in the US after the war, go undercover as a newlywed couple to find a Hydra scientist hiding in the suburbs.

A/N: This is 100% inspired by several things. 1. One of my all-time favorite X-Files Episodes “Arcadia” 2. The first episode of WandaVision 3. My giftee saying she liked the idea of Steggy married/dating and working together for SHIELD, and 4. Getting another Steggy Bingo Prompt in there… sentence prompt: “Did you really just insult Captain America in front of me?”

Please assume/add in your headcanons for the following: Steve was rescued shortly after the Valkyrie crash and OBVIOUSLY has pursued a romantic relationship with Peggy. Due to this, the events of the Agent Carter series have NOT happened. They’re both working for the SSR, tying up loose ends from the war.

Easiest way to see what I see is to imagine Steve and Peggy in the Petrie’s house from the Dick Van Dyke Show… but if you’re not familiar with that, the house from the first episode of WandaVision will do nicely.

~*~

Steve turned from the suitcase where he was lifting folded shirts out. “Just… consider this a test run.”

Peggy smirked, leaning against the doorjamb of the bedroom. She held out her hand, one of Steve’s socks dangling from her two fingers. “What, for me finding your stinky socks on the bathroom floor? Strike one, Rogers.”

Peggy tossed the sock to him, moving into the small bedroom with its double twin beds. She sat heavily on the side of hers, shaking her head. “If this is anything like moving, I’ll never do it again. I’m exhausted.”

Steve tucked his shirts away in the drawer, turning back to her, balling the sock up in his hand and tossing it into the hamper in the closet. “Most houses don’t have top of the line surveillance equipment we would have to hide in the roses.”

“The neighbors are already peeking out,” Peggy said, kicking her shoes off and sliding them under the edge of the bed with her toe. “I saw some from the back door peeking over while I was finishing in the kitchen. I’m sure we’ll have visitors tomorrow.”

Steve grabbed his empty suitcase from the bed and slipped it in the closet, shutting the door. “I’m surprised we didn’t have any today, what with all the commotion of moving in.”

Peggy shrugged, bouncing back to lie on the bed. “In my experience, deep cover Hydra scientists trying to hide out in suburban communities don’t just knock on your door and announce themselves.”

Steve chuckled, moving over to sit on the side of her bed at her hip. He gently took her left hand, running his thumb over the fake wedding band she wore. Peggy smiled up at him. “You know, Angie told me you’d asked her about my ring size.” Steve’s eyebrows rose to his hairline, and she could see his mind trying to scramble to salvage the surprise. “Oh, I know it’s coming, Steve. Don’t try to pretend it isn’t.”

He smiled softly. “I was hoping to surprise you is all.”

“You will,” she whispered, shifting to hold his hand tight. “When, where, how… I’ll try to avoid using my super spy powers on you to divine those things.” She reached her other hand to slide up his arm. “I’m an inpatient woman, so don’t make me wait too long.”

Steve smiled wolfishly at her, leaning over and putting his weight on his left hand, trapping her under him. “I mean, this counts, right?” He leaned down, letting Peggy traverse the last few centimeters to bring their lips together, kissing her sweetly. “This counts as being married?”

She chuckled as she kissed him, reaching one arm up to twine in the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “Absolutely does not.”

He pulled back a bit, teasing. “I mean, I am sleeping right over there…”

“In your own bed,” Peggy pushed them up to sitting, wrapping both arms around his shoulders.

“And it would be so easy to just push them together.”

She shook her head, teasing, despite the fact that the idea seemed like a good one to her. “Scandalous.”

Steve kissed her gently again. “Well, I suppose I should at least pretend to let you get a good night’s sleep?”

Peggy nodded, smiling. “We’ve got a bit of work ahead of us, I think. Very few men trying to hide from prosecution for war crimes make themselves known.”

“Good night then,” he kissed her softly and pushed away from her, “Mrs. Harper.”

Peggy tipped her head with a sultry smile. “Mr. Harper.”

~*~

Peggy moved the eggs around the pan, eyes tight on them as Steve walked into the kitchen the next morning. “Don’t distract me,” she mumbled. “The second I look away they burn.”

He watched her for a moment as she gently stirred the scrambled eggs, eyes intent as he’d ever seen them. “Stove burning too hot?”

“Simply out of practice, I’m afraid. Already ruined four eggs this way.” She pulled the pan off the heat and separated the eggs on to two plates. “Anything I’ve eaten for the last few years has come from a mess, out of a can, or from the automat.” She set the empty pan down and snapped off the heat. “Why you ever married me I’ll never know.”

He moved over, taking both plates and kissing her on the cheek. “Why, I like it so much, I might do it twice.”

Peggy chuckled, moving the pan to the sink and running water in it. “Easy there, soldier. We haven’t made it through this mission yet.” She peeked over at his silence, then turned around all the way, meeting his intent stare. “It’s the apron, isn’t it? I’ve gone too far?”

Steve watched, hands still full of plates, as she spun in her dress, looking for something out of place while her perfect curls bounced around her face like something out of a beauty magazine. He smiled, “No, no- I just…” he cleared his throat, moving to set the plates on the small table in the kitchen. He took a gentle deep breath and moved over to her. “It’s all a little… too perfect, you know? Not quite us, I think, but like something out of a movie.”

Peggy bit her lip, stepping closer to him so he could wrap her in his arms. “This whole thing is a bit spot on.” She played with the edge of his cardigan, the blue doing amazing things for his eyes. “But needs must when trying to build a trap.”

He moved his hand to trace over her chin, feeling content and happy despite the threat. “Will you cook me eggs after this is all over?”

Peggy would her arms around his neck, humming happily. “If you’re a good boy.” After a moment, she pushed back, centering herself. “Though you haven’t eaten them, yet, so you are taking a large chance there, darling.” She pushed him towards the table and followed shortly, two mugs of coffee in her hands.

“Peg—”

“Betty,” she demanded, stopping and looking at him. “I agree that this little fantasy is a bit of a slippery slope for the both of us, but we really must start doing better.” She sat and slid his coffee to him, looking him in eyes pointedly. “Roger.”

Steve nodded, taking the coffee. “Right. Betty,” he paused, the name not rolling off his tongue easily, “I can help with the cooking.”

“And risk someone seeing?” She picked up her fork, face stern. “From this moment on, no matter what, we’re happy newlyweds Roger and Betty Harper. I’m a stay-at-home wife who loves to knit and worked in a bullet factory during the war, you’re a veteran and you do figures at an accounting firm in the city. Perfect little wife, doting husband. Suburban life to a ridiculous, stereotypical T, got it?”

He held out his hand and she took it, looking at her plate rather than at him. “Hey,” he waited until she lifted her eyes. “I was just enjoying it too much. I know our cover. I’m in this one hundred percent, okay?”

Peggy held his hand and squeezed lightly, the smile returning to her face. “Yes, dear.”

~*~

By mid-morning they’d had five of the neighboring wives stop in to introduce themselves. Most were kind, young, gregarious and a bit overly excited to get to know them once Steve showed his face.

“You should stay in the kitchen when the next one comes over,” Peggy complained, sitting heavily on their small couch. “I can’t stand another wide-eyed housewife dazzled by your smile.”

Steve laughed, sitting next to her. “There’s only one housewife I want dazzled by my smile.”

Peggy collapsed into his lap, looking up at him. “She’s a little too tired to be dazzled right now. Somehow social pleasantries are more exhausting than the battlefield.” She closed her eyes, letting Steve’s fingers running through her hair lull her into a sense of calm. “Anything on any of the cameras?”

“No,” Steve didn’t slow his movements as his hand combed through her hair. He’d spent his morning when he wasn’t meeting neighbors “working,” keeping an eye on all of the cameras and equipment they’d set up. “So far just people mowing their lawns and taking walks.” She could feel his chuckle. “Not that I expected to see anyone building a bomb in their back yard…”

She reached up a hand, gently hitting him in the chest. “Don’t be flippant about it. Some people are quite stupid.”

The doorbell rang again and Peggy hoisted herself from Steve’s embrace, straightening her dress and forcing a smile on her face. “You look perfect,” Steve reassured.

She huffed, her eyebrows bouncing high on her forehead as she moved to the front door. “Hello?” She asked, her tone changing as she pulled the door open.

Standing across from her was a young woman, similar in age to Peggy, with sharp features and immaculately styled blonde hair. “Oh, hi! I hope I’m not interrupting?” Her Midwest accent was sharp, just a little too bubbly as she held out the dish she was holding. “I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.”

Peggy swept back, opening her arm. “Please come in. I’m Betty and this is my husband, Roger.”

“Dottie Underwood,” she said quickly, smiling back and forth between the both of them. “I brought you some cookies, I baked them fresh last night, and if I leave them around the house I’m afraid my father just eats them all.”

Peggy carefully took the dish, smiling as she set it down. “They look wonderful, thank you.”

Dottie’s eyes swept around the house, somewhat more intent than a simple curious glance. “You’re quite welcome. How are you settling?”

Steve stood tall, smiling brightly as he moved next to Peggy, gently laying his hand on her back. “Well enough, people have been very kind. I think we’ve met most of the neighborhood by now, haven’t we, honey?”

Peggy giggled, leaning into his side and watching how Dottie tried to keep her smile straight. “Oh, at least the whole street, I’m sure.”

“That’s wonderful.” Dottie smiled brightly. “I was hoping maybe you’d come over for dinner tonight? I live with my father and I’m afraid he doesn’t go out much anymore, but he does enjoy meeting everyone.”

Steve and Peggy shared a short look. To the average person it seemed just a husband and wife consulting one another, to the trained eye, the conversation that happened was much more in-depth and quick. “Well,” Steve replied quickly, “I think we’d be delighted.”

“Oh, that’s just wonderful,” Dottie replied, her smile growing wider, eyes sparkling as she moved toward the door. “I’ll go tell father, he’ll be so pleased.”

Dottie smiled at them, the three standing quietly until Steve nudged Peggy I the back. “Oh, yes, is there anything we can bring?” Peggy asked, trying to hide her forgetfulness with a fluster.

Dottie laughed lightly, moving towards the door. “Just yourselves. Six o’clock, sharp.” She stopped, hand on the knob. “We’re the little blue house, 1013, just on the other side of the street.”

Once she was out, Peggy scooted to the window, watching as Dottie meandered down the driveway and sidewalk, eyes never leaving her until she disappeared into her own home. “Did she strike you as…”

“Trying to hard?” Steve supplied, looking over her shoulder. “Suspicious?”

Peggy turned, looking at him, the agent emerging from the housewife. “Do we have a camera on their house?”

Steve smiled. “Rosebush 3.”

~*~

“What do you mean you invited them over?” Fennhoff bellowed, slamming his fist on the small kitchen table. “What about in hiding do you not understand?”

Dottie rolled her eyes at him, sitting across the table. “Sometimes the best place to hide is out in the open, Papa.” The title dripped from her lips, sarcastic and biting. She pulled the notebook he was scribbling in away, forcing him to look at her. “If we want to fit in, we need to get to know these people, make them want to help and protect the old man and his daughter.”

He grabbed the notebook back. “We should stay inside.”

“You can’t build a new identity by staying inside you helpless oaf.” Dottie stood, pushing away from the table and letting the legs of the chair scrape along the floor. She rounded the small table, leaning over the scientist’s shoulder, eyes dark. “My job is to protect you until Hydra builds itself back up and is ready for you to come back. You trust me, or you get caught. Your call.”

He pursed his lips tight, unhappy. “We should be at their home, going through their things.”

Dottie made a noise in the back of her throat as she rolled her eyes and moved away. “Like I haven’t thought of that.” She moved away, leaning on the kitchen counter. “I’ve already told them you’re unwell. At some point we’ll make your excuses and you can go see what you can find.”

His eyes narrowed dangerously. “I am not the one who is a spy, you are.”

Dottie smiled like a snake, her teeth sharp and gleaming in the light. “You’re whatever I tell you you are until this whole thing is over.”

~*~

Steve looked at the young man across the dinner table, knowing he was lying. As hard as he’d tried to get in the Army, there had been more people trying just as hard, if not harder, to get out of it. “4F you say?”

“Yeah,” Dan from across the street cleared his throat. “Asthma. Wouldn’t let me enlist over a little thing like that.”

Dinner was a strained affair. Steve and Peggy saw upon their arrival that they hadn’t been the only people invited. Dottie has also invited her neighbors, Dan and Laura Smythe, to try to help them get to know people. Though they tried to keep the conversation moving, it was stilted and uncomfortable. Dottie, all smiles, kept trying to shift topics of conversation while her father sat grumpily at the head of the table.

“Beastly affair, that war.” Dottie’s feigned sadness was easy to see through. “It’s how I lost my Earnie.”

Laura wasn’t quite as sharp as Peggy and fell for the faux sadness, letting her hand rest on the woman’s arm. “Your beau?”

“We were engaged,” Dottie continued, sniffling dramatically. “He was a pilot with the 107th, got shot down over enemy territory.”

Steve and Peggy shared a look. There hadn’t been any pilots in the 107th, definitely none named Earnie. A quick glance at the older Underwood revealed nothing. He had no feelings about the loss of the man who supposedly was going to marry his daughter, which struck them both as odd.

Laura, however, was eating it up. “Was he one of the soldier’s that Captain America saved in that amazing rescue? Didn’t he save nearly that whole battalion?”

Dottie shook her head. “No, he was lost just before that, I’m afraid.”

“Well, that didn’t happen, anyway.” Steve said with a bold confidence that made every face turn and look at him.

Peggy’s jaw tightened as she turned to him, putting a hand to his arm. “Darling.”

“No, you know how I feel about this, Betty.” Steve turned and patted her hand, every inch the dismissive husband. “I was out there, fighting for my life, fighting to get back to you, and they parade this guy around in tights on newsreels?”

“Laura and I saw him at one of those USO shows,” Dan started, causing Peggy to squeeze Steve’s arm in concern that their ruse was about to fall apart, “I swear I saw wires. Guy was an actor and a hack.”

“Right?” Steve threw up his hand, nodding appreciatively at the man. “No way he was that strong.”

Laura giggled a bit, leaning towards Dottie. “He was quite handsome, though, don’t you think?”

Dottie, hoping to defuse some of the tension she could feel radiating around the table, just laughed along. “Oh yes, very handsome.” Dottie turned her smile across the table. “Did you ever get to see him, Betty?”

Peggy folded her hands under the table. “Oh, a few times.” She snuck a look at Steve then leaned forward, whispering towards the women though she knew full well everyone could hear her. “Those tights were quite the uniform!”

The women giggled, Dan pressed his lips into a tight line, and Steve had to bite his tongue to keep a straight face. The elder Underwood, for his part, was growing more and more upset.

“That man won them the war,” the elder Underwood grumbled.

“Impossible.” Steve turned to him, almost enjoying the part he was playing. “Hollywood smoke and mirrors. I was out there and I never saw him or that shield. Not once.”

Underwood pushed himself away from the table, his face growing red. “Did you really just insult Captain America in front of me?” He stood, leaning over Peggy and Steve with enough menace that Steve put his arm across Peggy, ready to move her behind him if the man became any more aggressive. “You come into my house and you say these things?”

Steve had been having fun with their plan to insult his alter ego, see if their hosts were sympathetic, showed any leanings to the Axis powers, but this hit home. He knew people had idolized him, and as much as that had made him uncomfortable, he understood how important it was to have a symbol of hope in such a bleak time.

Before Steve could reply and apologize the man stormed off. Dottie stood, stuttering an apology, and followed him into the house.

“Well, I for one am with you,” Dan said, raising his fork and diving back into his dinner. “Man was a fraud.”

Peggy grabbed Steve’s hand under the table and squeezed.

~*~

“What was that back there?” Dottie demanded in a hushed voice once she’d closed the door to Fennhoff’s room behind them.

“Distraction,” he said sharply, his accent becoming more pronounced. “You want distraction, you get distraction.”

Dottie huffed, crossing her arms. “And what am I supposed to tell them now?”

“That your father is a great patriot. That he needs his rest. You say whatever you say while I go pretend to be spy.” Fennhoff waved her away and opened the window in his room, grumbling about how he was supposed to slip out. “Lock the door.”

~*~

Steve stood as Dottie joined them back at the table. “I should go apologize.”

“No, no,” Dottie shooed him back to his seat. “My father gets grumpy sometimes. He just needed to take his pills and lay down for a spell.” She sat herself back down and laid her napkin on her lap with deliberate flair. “It’ll all be forgotten after a quick nap, I promise.”

“Still, I’d feel better if I could,” Steve reluctantly sat, rearranging his own napkin.

“I’m sure he’ll be back out in a bit.” She smiled widely, a motion that did not reach her eyes. “He just never misses dessert!”

~*~

Anyone fluent in Russian would have been scandalized at the string of words coming from Fennhoff’s lips as he snuck into the back of the Harper home.

“Don’t even lock their doors,” Fennhoff mumbled as he slipped in their back door. He moved carefully through the dark kitchen, futilely opening and closing cabinets. He did not expect to find anything in the home of that vapid man who didn’t believe Captain America was real.

He’d seen the damage that man could do with his own eyes. Anyone who believed Captain America hadn’t won the war for the Allied forces was either dimwitted, a fool, or both.

He tried to stay quiet as he moved through the house, but there wasn’t much light and even less to see that was interesting. The house was only sparsely decorated with few, if any, places to hide things. He made his rounds quickly, opening and closing closets and doors and saw nothing that would make him think these people were anything other than what they said they were: boring American suburbanites.

He stopped on his way out and opened the small broom closet he’d neglected on the way in, sighing when there was nothing more than a broom, mop, and bucket there.

“Dumb woman spy,” he mumbled, letting himself out quietly.

~*~

“Next time we’ll have you over,” Peggy said, holding both of Dottie’s hands at the door. “Dinner was simply marvelous.”

“Oh, shucks,” Dottie took one hand to bat the compliment away. “It was so lovely to get to know you and welcome you to the neighborhood.”

The corner of Steve’s mouth crooked up sadly. “Please give my apologies to your father.”

“No need,” she reached out, stroking Steve’s shoulder in a motion that was just slightly more than neighborly. “He’s a stubborn old man and you are a great war hero, Mr. Harper. You’re allowed a difference of opinion, especially since you were there.”

“All the same,” Steve stepped back out of her reach, taking Peggy’s hand and moving away. He felt like if he didn’t escape, they’d be exchanging pleasantries all night. “Have a great night.”

“You too!” Dottie called, watching from the door as they turned.

Steve pressed his hand to Peggy’s back, pushing her down the pavement just a little faster. “She’s still watching,” he mumbled. “Gosh, such lovely neighbors around here, don’t you think, honey?” he let his voice drift louder.

“Absolutely, darling. I’m so excited to get to know them all. Maybe join the Women’s Auxiliary.” Peggy leaned closer to Steve, her voice lower now, “Is she still watching? My face hurts from smiling.”

“Few more feet, dear,” he whispered. He leaned down, “I think Dan and Laura are out there now,” he pointed to his ear, signaling he could hear them talking, “Want to give them a show?”

Peggy raised her eyebrow, the false suburban smile she’d been sporting morphing into a smirk he was much more used to seeing on her face. “Show?”

He led her up the steps, stopping to dig the keys out of his pocket. Once he did, he reached out and unlocked the door, pushing it open. Before she could step in, he swept her off her feet, carrying her like she was a brand-new bride. Peggy squeaked, grabbing on to his shoulders more out of surprise than fear that he would drop her on the front porch.

She laughed. “This is what you had in mind?”

He leaned forward, kissing her gently. “Gotta sell that newlywed cover,” he whispered against her lips. “They watching?”

Peggy shifted her head as he turned them a bit, his lips on hers again. Peggy squinted, making it look like her eyes were closed. She didn’t normally like to do double duty while Steve was kissing her, but he managed to avoid distracting her too badly. She could see the Smythe’s and Dottie on the porch, eyes glues to them. From the window, the elder Underwood peaked out. Peggy dragged her lips away. “All watching. And slightly scandalized.”

“They’ll be very scandalized in a minute,” he mumbled, kissing down her neck.

Peggy hit him playfully in the shoulder. “Barbarian!” She laughed as he growled in her ear. “Inside at once!” She kicked a bit as he straightened up, laughing as he bounced her in his arms. Steve made a show of almost losing his balance and nearly dropping her as he stepped over the threshold for their audience. For good measure he kicked the door closed, wishing he could see all of their faces.

He’d absolutely go back and check the surveillance tapes just to see what they looked like.

He turned, putting Peggy down and pressing her up against the door, letting his lips meet hers again. “That was fun.”

She hummed happily, but pushed him away. “Quite, but we still have work to do.” She moved past him, then stopped as she flipped on the light. She held out her hand, then pointed. “And you made fun of me for vacuuming us out before we left.”

“You were wearing pearls and an evening dress.” Steve pointed out, bending low to look at the fresh footprints that showed against the new, freshly cleaned nap of the carpet. “What do you think?”

“Man’s shoe, fairly large.” Peggy moved around, following the path. “Came from the kitchen, so… in through the back door.”

“Looks like he took a peek in each room,” Steve added, opening the doors and following the trail, “then back through the kitchen to go out.”

“You think they found…” Peggy started, but didn’t finish, following Steve into the kitchen and watching as he opened the closet door.

“Doubt it, everything’s exactly as I left it, including that little bit of flour by the wall.” He smiled up at her, trying to show off the tricks he’d slowly been learning from her since they’d been working together stateside. He warmed at bit at her smile, then moved the mop, broom, and bucket. With a firm push to one side of the back wall, it spun, sweeping the flour on the floor into a wide, tell-tale circle and revealing that the closet was actually three times the size, hiding a small bank of monitors and recording equipment. “Shall we?”

They both slipped in the small space, Steve on the stool he occupied for most of the day while surveilling, Peggy peering over his shoulder as he found the reel trained on their back door and rolled it back. It was fuzzy in the darkness, but the figure creeping through their rosebushes seemed quite familiar. “Is that Underwood?” Peggy asked, waiting for Steve to roll the tape back and forth until they had a fairly clear picture.

“Looks like it,” Steve mumbled, marking down the time and reel for future reference. “What do you think he’s looking for?”

“Same as we are,” Peggy said quietly, slipping from the closet to lean on the door jamb. “If they’re in hiding, they’re looking out for anyone wanting to find them.”

Steve reloaded some of the reels, marking others and setting the film aside to review tomorrow. Peggy watched him work, smiling as he rolled up his sleeves, concentration fully on his task. She leaned on the doorway, slipping off her heels and content to just be for the moment. Steve slipped out of the hidden space, pushing the fake wall back in place and sweeping the flour back into an indistinguishable line along the bottom of the wall.

“Do you think it will be like this?” Peggy mused, watching as he ran a damp cloth along the visible floor of the closet, hiding the existence of the flour even further to sell their ruse.

“Do I think what will be like what?” Steve asked, standing and laying the wet dishcloth over the back of a chair to dry.

Peggy bounced over to him on her toes, hands holding her heels behind her back, hips swaying and swinging her skirt around her in a manner that was much more carefree than Steve had seen her in a long time. “Do you think our marriage will be like this? Domestic bliss and snogging against the front door one minute and international espionage the next?”

Steve tilted his head, his forehead creasing in thought as he wrapped his arms around her. “You know, it probably will. Though I’d like to say we’ll need much less surveillance at our house.”

“Our house…” she mused, smiling widely. “Kind of thrilling, isn’t it?” Peggy wrapped her arms around him with a sly smile, heels still dangling from her fingers.

His brows knit together for just a brief moment, the concern replaced by amusement on his face. “I don’t think life with you will ever be boring, dear.” He leaned down, kissing her gently.

Peggy leaned back, eyes still closed, a smile on her lips. She blinked her eyes open, half lidded and dreamy. “What say you to pushing the beds together tonight, Mr. Harper?”

He kissed her again, nipping at her bottom lip. “Sounds like an excellent idea to me.” Without warning, Steve bent his knees, grabbing behind her thighs and lifting her up.

She wrapped her legs around his hips, a sly smile on her face. “You enjoy showing off like that, don’t you?”

“For you?” His smile lit up his face. “Absolutely.”

Her face went blank, her eyes darting around the room as if people were there that might overhear her. “Small confession.” She leaned close to him, eyes sincere. “If, tomorrow, you woke up and were that 98 pound asthmatic man I first met, I’d love you all the same. But, and I’ll deny this until the day I die to anyone else,” her eyes grew mischievous, “I like it when you show off very much. Please don’t ever stop.”

He laughed, full and hearty, as he started to move toward the bedroom. Peggy bounced her heel off his lower back, trying to turn him like a horse. “Ah! Back, soldier. We’ve got doors to lock!”

Steve laughed, turning back and shifting her to his hip so he could see and secure the house without having to put her down. “Yes, ma’am!”

~*~

“They are not spies,” Fennhoff insisted, pushing past Dottie.

She shook her head, closing the cabinet door with more force than necessary. The kitchen was still in a state from the dinner party and as usual she was left to clean everything up. “I’m telling you, you’re wrong. You just didn’t know where to look.”

The man grumbled and disappeared down the hall, the sound of his bedroom door slamming and locking echoing through the house.

~*~

The morning sun was bright coming through the front room’s picture window. Steve squinted as he stepped up behind Peggy, wrapping one arm around her waist as his other hand wound around her to offer her the cup of tea he held. “A little sunny, isn’t it?”

She hummed in agreement as she took and sipped her tea, her eyes never leaving the street where they were staring intently. “See that tabby?”

He followed her line of sight, things clearer as he got used to the brightness, to the small grey cat bouncing up and down the curb across the street outside of Dottie’s house. “I mean, it’s cute, but I don’t think right now is the best time to get a pet, Betty.” A soft humor infused his voice, knowing that Peggy’s plans were far past pets as she stayed intent on the creature.

“Hum, maybe not. But nevertheless, it’s been in and out of our yard, too, and I’ve noticed it doesn’t have a collar.” She let her free hand run over the arm around her waist. “What’s the range on those bugs Howard gave us?”

“With a direct line of sight, 100 yards.” He shrugged, thinking. “Obscured? Maybe 50. Could be more or less depending on what’s between us and it.” He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling her soft scent before pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “You have a plan.”

She turned and smiled at him. “I have a plan.”

~*~

It started with a small saucer of milk late that morning. Peggy left it on the front stoop and spent a little while just sitting outside next to it, waving at neighbors and smiling. “You haven’t seen that little grey tabby, have you?” she would ask each passing person, concern all over her face, “I got a glimpse of him this morning and I could have sworn he was limping!”

By the afternoon, Steve was trying very hard to keep a straight face as he helped her “search” for the cat in their yard.

Just before dinner, Peggy palmed the small listening device, a thin disk that was barely the size of a quarter, and headed across the street, making tiny whispering and clicking noises, eyes, wide and sad.

Laura Smythe popped her head out of her kitchen window as Peggy knelt next to the storm drain between their house and Dottie’s. “Betty? Are you ok?”

“Oh, fine, Laura!” She stood and waved, her face tight. “I just could have sworn I saw that little grey stray cat and it was limping. I just want to make sure the poor thing is okay.” She huffed and stood, straightening her skirt. “Have you seen him?”

Laura shook her head. “Not since yesterday.” She smiled at Peggy. “So sweet of you to want to try to help him.”

“Well thanks, I—oh!” Peggy turned, eyes set on Dottie’s front yard. With a fake wobble in her heels, she was more adept in running in them than she’d like everyone to know, she darted towards the azalea bush and stopped short. She smiled back at Laura, “I think I’ve got him!” With a smile that had nothing to do with a cat, Peggy pushed her way into the bush and along the front side of the house. She made some noise, swished the plant a few times, and smiled to herself. It was going perfectly.

Dottie was on her porch before Peggy could even catch her breath from the run over, voice loud. “Goodness, Betty, what are you doing?” She demanded, incensed.

Peggy stood, using the ledge of the window to haul herself up and the exaggerated surprise she feigned to hide how she set the small bug in the corner of the sill and the window. “Oh! Dottie I hope I didn’t startle you!”

Dottie, less neighborly than yesterday, started at her. “You did, Betty. Why are you in my bushes?”

Peggy dropped her head, shaking it sadly. “Oh, I just saw that poor neighborhood cat limping this morning and I’ve been trying to get my hands on him and see if he was ok. I could have sworn I saw him over here!” Peggy looked around herself, as if she was just noticing what a mess she made. “Oh, goodness, what have I done? I just don’t think sometimes!”

Dottie couldn’t hide the suspicion on her face, but stepped down and offered Peggy her hand. “Let me help you out.”

“Oh, I am so sorry! Your beautiful flowers!” Peggy brushed the leaves and petals from her dress and gestured towards the slightly rumpled bush. “I’ll pay for any damages, I am so, so very sorry.”

“No need,” Dottie said coolly, her smile never reaching her eyes. “I never liked that one anyway.”

~*~

Steve was still laughing when she made her way back into the house. She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t deny that it must have looked a sight. “You almost done?” She crossed her arms, trying to hide her smile as she leaned against the counter.

He was still catching his breath as he emerged from his small control center in the broom closet, hand pressed to his chest. “Oh… oh that was priceless.”

She eyed him as he moved closer, leaning his hands on the counter on either side of her and looming with a bright smile on his face. Peggy rested her hand on his shoulders, enjoying the closeness. “Yes, but did it work?”

He nodded, reaching up with one hand and picking leaves and petals from her hair. He picked the last one and held the pink petal up for her to see. “It did. Not the clearest sound, but good enough.” He kissed her quickly, a peck full of pride and happiness. “You’re brilliant.”

“Why, thank you,” she replied happily, lifting up on her toes for another brief kiss before she ducked away under his arm. “Then you’re making dinner. I’m simply exhausted from looking for that cat all day!”

~*~

The chatter from the Underwood residence was tinny and quiet, but there wasn’t much to expect from the small transmitter. It did its job and Steve and Peggy could hear clear enough the woman and her father bickering in half sentences. Anytime they were in the back of the house they were out of range, but the front room and kitchen came in clear enough.

“They know they’re being monitored,” Peggy sighed, pulling off her headphones. Dottie’s tone had been harsh and clipped, and more than once her “father” had stopped short mid-sentence, either because he didn’t want to keep talking or because Dottie wanted him stopped.

Steve pulled off his own headphones and leaned back. He tried to stretch but his arms hit the wall of the small closet. “You’re right. They’re far too close lipped.”

“And the language is not nearly familiar enough to be father and daughter,” Peggy muttered, scooting to the side and leaning back onto Steve’s shoulder. His arm would around her immediately, stroking over her upper arm. “I’m not sold that they’re who we’re looking for, but I know they’re not who they say they are.”

Steve tipped his head into hers, cuddling close for a second. “What do you think? Time to turn in?”

She nodded against him “They’ll still be there tomorrow, I suppose.”

~*~

Peggy snuck out of her bed, tiptoeing as she picked up her robe and slippers, trying to avoid waking Steve in the middle of the night.

“Peg?” he murmured, turning.

She stopped, shifting her load to one hand to push his hair out of his eyes with the other as she bent by his bed. “Can’t sleep. Just getting some water.”

He hummed as her fingers moved over his cheek, catching her hand in his and turning his head to kiss her palm. “Don’t be long. You need to rest.”

She smiled as his eyes fluttered closed, sleep already pulling him back. “I’ll do my best, darling.”

Peggy slipped through the bedroom door, closing it behind her before wrapping herself in the robe and putting the slippers on her feet. There was a chill in the air, enough to make her wrap her arms around herself as she moved through the living room and to the kitchen.

She didn’t bother with the lights, the moonlight through the windows was enough to see by. She’d been lying in bed for hours, her mind running over scenarios of who the mysterious “father” and “daughter” team across the street could really be. She quietly opened the refrigerator, pulling out the orange juice. She filled the first glass she found and slipped the bottle back, sitting at the table in the darkness. She’d been expecting to find a man named Fennhoff masquerading as a widower. They didn’t know much about him, never mind what he looked like, but the presence of Dottie was baffling to her. The woman was suspicious and sharp, and deep inside Peggy thought she was smarter than she let on.

Peggy sipped her juice, not really wanting it but needing something to do with her hands. She thought about slipping back into the little closet, reviewing the tapes for the night, but decided against it. She needed to shut off her mind, quiet it, not rile it up. She needed rest so she could figure out what their next step would be. Steve was good, and getting better every day, but his real expertise was on the battlefield, not as a spy, and he still deferred to her in almost all matters for missions. She needed to be ready with a new plan by the time the alarm clock went off in the morning.

She wasn’t sure how long she was sitting in the dark, letting her mind wander, before she heard it: soft, crunching footsteps in the backyard. She lifted her glass and slowly made her way to behind the counter, crouched low and waiting. She didn’t have much of an advantage, but the juice would at least sting enough to give her the element of surprise.

Peggy steeled herself as she heard the doorknob slowly turn, the person jiggling it gently to confirm the lock was thrown. She slowed her breathing, mind clear and ready for anything as she heard the soft click of lock picks and the tumblers moving in place. The door opened almost silently, a small figure slipping in based on the shadow Peggy could see along the wall.

The person slipped in, looking quietly around the room. Peggy held her breath, waiting as the footsteps got closer, waiting for the person to be just close enough.

Without thought she stood, tossing the juice towards the intruder.

Dottie Underwood screeched as the acidic juice burned her eyes, stumbling back.

Peggy pressed forward, pushing her against the cabinets with both hands. She knew the rattle was loud enough to wake Steve and that he’d be there to back her up any moment. “What are you doing here?”

Dottie, eyes red and blinking furiously, took only a second to choose between lying and the truth. Truth, though, didn’t quite come with words. Instead, she threw her head forward, connecting her forehead with Peggy’s with a sickening crack. Peggy stumbled back, but had the advantage of knowing exactly where everything was in the kitchen. She didn’t need to look to get the pan from the stove, sitting and waiting for breakfast to be cooked up in a few hours, and swing it around.

Dottie threw a hand up just in time to keep the pan from connecting with her skull, and grabbed Peggy’s arm with her free one, grappling and forcing her to drop the pan with a clatter.

“Who are you?” Peggy ground out between her teeth, grabbing a fistful of hair and using that to hold Dottie in her frame of vision.

Dottie countered with a leg sweep, sending Peggy toppling over and off her feet. Peggy didn’t let go, though, and Dottie went down with her, landing them both between the island and the counter. “Just a concerned neighbor,” Dottie managed to huff out, pushing with her legs to try to get the upper hand and roll on top of Peggy. “Thought I saw a robber.”

“How kind,” Peggy grunted, managing to get her hand on a corner of the cabinet and use the leverage to get a leg out so she could knee the woman in the chest. Dottie lost her breath, leaving room for Peggy to pounce once again as she stumbled to stand and move away from her. Peggy started to move towards her again just as Steve rushed through the door of the kitchen, eyes wide and in nothing more than his pajama pants.

Steve’s arrival somewhat stymied Dottie. She paused, still trying to catch her breath, with Peggy huffing beside her. Steve looked between the two women and Peggy stared at him, disbelief in her eyes. “Her, please!”

Steve snatched Dottie around the waist and lifted her off her feet, keeping his head away from her flailing arms as she struggled. Peggy pulled the tie from her robe, using it to secure her hands behind her back once Steve had set her in one of the kitchen chairs.

“Still plan on sticking to your story,” Peggy huffed, sitting across from her as Steve stood guard, “or are you going to tell us what we need to know?”

Dottie smiled like a shark, her red, tearing eyes fighting the visual she wanted to present. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Peggy and Steve shared a look, and without a word he slipped out of the kitchen, headed back to the bedroom.

Dottie watched as he returned only moments later with a shirt and shoes to go with the pants, and a very brightly painted shield on his arm. He stepped in the kitchen and handed Peggy her gun before he disappeared out the front door.

Dottie winced; her eyes painful. “Betty, is it? Are you two even married?”

“Does it matter?” Peggy asked pragmatically, rounding the woman and checking her bindings. “I think what matters here is that you’re hiding something and I’d very much like to know what it is.”

“Do you have twin beds? Or just one big bed?” Dottie asked dreamily. “If I could have that in my bed…” she hummed, the salacious tone somewhat ineffective when combined with her sniffles.

“Are you here on behalf of Hydra?” Peggy asked, picking up a towel and mopping the orange juice from the floor.

Dottie continued rambling. “I mean, that’s one hundred percent American beefcake right there. USDA Prime. And strong.” She sighed happily. “When he picked me up… mmm mmm mmm.”

Peggy rolled her eyes behind the woman, picking the pan from the floor. “What about that man you’re with?”

“Oh, he’s about to have his day ruined.” Dottie laughed manically. “You see, when that Greek God of a man of yours riled him up about Captain America, he wasn’t lying. He gets riled up. Mostly because he hates him so much.” She laughed again. “When he wakes up and sees that shield over him… oh, he might just have a heart attack.”

Peggy checked the robe tie as she passed again, knowing it was hardly enough to secure someone who knew what they were doing before she opened the broom closet and pushed out the fake wall. “Last chance to give me anything before I throw you to the wolves.”

Dottie just sat, head held high, eyes still watering.

“Have it your way.” Peggy reached in and pulled out a beacon, tapping it twice. “The cavalry will be here shortly.”

~*~

Steve didn’t exactly feel fantastic about waking the old man up, but when he started cursing in Russian at him and pulled a gun from under his pillow, Steve reassessed his position.

He still felt bad when he had to knock him out though.

~*~

Peggy stood at the doorway, watching the rest of the SSR team pack the surveillance equipment away and hurry the rented furniture back in the truck as the forensics team was going over Dottie’s house. Dottie was safely in custody and Peggy would be interrogating her tomorrow at the SSR when everything was back to normal. It had been only four days since they moved in, but Peggy could admit, at least to herself, that she’d enjoyed playing house.

Steve came up behind her, his hands still at his sides rather than at her hips. They’d set clear ground rules when it came to the office and the SSR, and that meant no touching in front of co-workers. The absence of his hands when he was so close was causing the hairs on her arms to stand at attention. “What do you think about suburbia?” she questioned lightly, though it weighed heavily on her mind.

“Well, when there aren’t sleeper Hydra Agents hiding in it, it seems pleasant enough to me.” He shrugged, leaning on the doorjamb to look at her. “I grew up in the city, but I’m not attached to that as some idyllic idea of what life should be. Might be nice to have a little garden, some grass to cut, a front yard to build a snowman in and rake leaves…”

Peggy jutted her chin out the to Smythe house, where, like everyone else on the street, Dan and Laura were looking out the window, trying to get every bit of gossip they could. “Neighbors being neighborly.”

Steve dropped his voice. “I think we’d do well in someplace like this.”

Peggy smiled up at him before turning back to the men in the yard. “Agreed.”

“It should be bigger, though, to make room for the kids.” He nudged her with his elbow, a smile threatening to break out on his face. “Four, at least.”

Peggy raised her eyebrows at him. “Two.”

“Only two?” He asked, partially teasing and partially actually let down.

Peggy turned so the men in the yard couldn’t see or hear what she was saying. “Will you be popping them out then? Because until you are, I think the person actually carrying the children should have her opinion weighed slightly more.”

He nodded, eyebrows together tightly. “Point taken.”

She stepped closer, nudging him with her shoulder. “Perhaps we start with one, and see how we do, hum?” She pushed past him, the bump intentional and flirty. “Besides, I’m still waiting on that ring.”

Steve smiled out at the front yard, shoving his hands in his pockets. Good thing the ring was sitting back in his apartment in the top drawer of his dresser. Seeing as this little test run had gone well, maybe he’d pop the question sooner rather than later.

Domestic bliss and international espionage… Steve couldn’t think of anything he’d like more.

#steggy secret santa #Steggy Bingo Bash #superhero-daugthers11 #Steggy Fic #3P's Fic

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disgruntledspacedad · 4 years

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Better Love Notes

If you’re confused about location, timing, or characters in my Narcos AU series Better Love, this is the post for you.

Better Love is an AU reader insert series that begins midway through Narcos season two. Because it is AU, and because Narcos is complicated af anyway, I wanted to take some time to clarify what things in Better Love will be different than what you're used to seeing in the show.

Hannah “Ears” Aarons

First, I think it’s important to clarify that Ears is more of an OC written in second person than she is a generic reader insert. I might refer to her as “you,” but Ears has a name, a face claim, a backstory, and a huge personality. If that bothers you loads, I totally understand and you’re free to duck out at any point, but don’t come at me. If you have specific questions regarding Ears’ background, personality, physical appearance, family history, or whatever else, get with me privately. I would love to introduce you to my chaotic sunshine child.

Official Job Title: Ears is officially an employee of the CIA, but she is not an agent (read: spy). She was brought to Colombia to be a liaison between Centra Spike, the DEA, and the CIA. She introduces herself to Search Bloc by saying, "I'll be your ears," but in reality, she was put in place to be Bill Strechner’s ears. More on that later. She has a background with the US Army that's basically useless (desk job), a ton of training and zero practical experience with flyover recon and radiofrequency tracking, and she's itching to do something real with her life.

Timing

Ears arrives in Bogotá around August of 1992 and falls in bed with Peña pretty much immediately. Horacio Carillo did die recently, but Javi did not start working with Los Pepes and Don Berna until November of 1992. Assume all of the drama with Martinez Jr. and Los Pepes took place around the time that he and Ears were on the outs - that's just another factor that led Javi to make the emotional, rash decision to work with the cartels that he winds up regretting.

There is actually a one year span of time between season two, episode six and the end of the show. Pretty much the entirety of Better Love (for now) takes place during this year, so if it seems like I’m really stretching things out, that’s actually because the show mushed it all together. I promise, guys, I have done my research here.

Locations

The majority of scenes in Better Love will take place in Bogotá, the capital city of Colombia. It’s important to keep Bogotá separate from Medellín, which is where the nit and grit of the hunt for Escobar takes place.

Getting to Medellín from Bogotá requires a one hour flight or an eight hour drive (Colombia is roughly twice the size of Texas, fyi). For a gringo, driving around the cities was dangerous, but driving outside the cities was suicide. Javi and Steve might take planes, or they might take an armored chopper, depends on my mood when I'm writing. Assume there's a landing strip nearby the embassy, because I'm lazy like that.

The U.S. Embass(ies): Centra Spike, Search Bloc, and the DEA office are all housed in the old embassy building that's basically right across from the new one (the super upscale nice one that actually functions as an embassy).

There's a lot of confusion and shuffling around in the show, so I wanted to clarify what goes where (also, the real Murphy and Peña had offices in the old, unused embassy, so this is sort of legit). For simplicity's sake, I am assuming that CNP (Colombian National Police) headquarters are also in or nearby this building. Ears might refer to "headquarters," "the office," or "the embassy," and it's all the same place. Basically, everything is centrally located in Bogotá, and when I refer to “the DEA office,” or “Javi’s office,” picture it from season one - two desks that are not shoved on top of each other, with glass windows and real filing cabinets. The CIA is also located here, as is Strechner's office and the fabled White Room.

These buildings are in Bogotá, nearby Peña’s and Murphy's apartments. I will differentiate between the New, Swanky, Functional U.S. Embassy by capitalizing it and giving it its full title. If I say “embassy,” assume I’m talking about the older one where Javi and Ears are based.

The Carlos Holguin School: This is the base of Search Bloc operations in Medellín, and the primary location that we see in season two of the show. Think of it almost as a military base - training grounds, barracks, bare-bones, no a/c, shitty food. Javi and Steve often stay at "the school" overnight while conducting operations in Medellín. They might also refer to this as “camping” or “the camp,” or “base.” It sucks balls. This is where Javi and Steve have their messy, shoved on top of each other desks that we tend to associate with the show. Javi and Steve still work from here just as often as we see in canon, there just won’t be as many scenes in this location because Ears is never there.

Javi’s apartment: Javi and Steve primarily live in Bogotá. This is the same apartment building that you see in season one, with the big steps in front of the building and then an even larger set of stairs inside. There is also a big set of stairs on the back end of the building that leads to an underground parking garage (we see this in the season one finale, where Steve gets snatched by Navegante). This building is a five minute walk to the U.S. Embassy, but Javi and Steve mostly chose to drive for safety and convenience. It’s in a pretty decent part of Bogotá. There is one small canon deviation in regards to the apartments: in Better Love, Javi lives upstairs, across from Steve’s front door instead of below him like we see in the show. They share a large front landing. I just really liked the idea of Javi having a view of the city from his bedroom window.

Ears’ apartment: Ears lives in a tiny little flat on top of a drug store, a place that she found on her own through the friend of a work friend. It’s also in a decent part of Bogotá, but not quite as safe or upscale as Javi’s. It’s about a ten minute hike from the embassy and fifteen minutes from Javi’s place.

Miscellaneous

CIA/DEA Collaboration: The relationship between the CIA and the DEA in Colombia was not pretty. The show makes it look like a personal conflict between Strechner and Peña, but in reality, it was so much deeper than that. These two organizations have opposing goals, and communication and sharing of information was a real problem. Basically, they squabble more than they collaborate, and there was a lot of backstabbing, underhanded fuckery, and generally getting in each other's way. Naturally, this is going to create tension between Ears and Javi.

Bill Stechner: The show makes it clear that Bill doesn’t give a shit about Escobar or the cartels except in regards to the power dynamics they create, but let me reiterate here - his primary goal in Colombia is to keep it from becoming a communist state. That’s all he wants.

OC Sicarios: Don't get Velasco (canon sicario) mixed up with Verdugo (my OC sicario). They are different characters. Verdugo is the guy who features in The Rules of Engagement.

Feo is another sicario who is an OC. More updates on him later.

Canon Deviations in Better Love

Series spoilers from this point on. I’m going to take it fic by fic, so if you haven’t read something and don’t want to be spoiled, stop at the bold print. Again, Better Love is super fucking plotty, so I thought it was only fair to give you guys a reference sheet. Lord knows I need one, too.

The Rules of Engagement: Introduces Ears. Horacio Carillo did die recently, but Javi’s role in his death is undetermined/not mentioned. Javi does start working with Los Pepes during Rules, but only after he and Ears have their fallout. All of the bullshit with Martinez Jr. and the Castaño brothers takes place during the time that Javi and Ears aren’t speaking.

Aftershocks: Establishes with certainty that Javi is working with the cartels. His primary contact with Los Pepes is Don Berna. This is going to be critical later. Also establishes that Don Berna has more connection to the Cali cartel than he does in canon.

Yours: Establishes that Connie Murphy is a badass biker bitch with a heart of gold, because I think the show did her dirty. She loves Steve and Steve loves her. Ears and Stechner get to know each other a little better, and Javi doesn’t like this one bit. Ears starts thinking about a leak in Search Bloc, and how dangerous that might be for Javi.

Bang: Javier Peña gives Ears a shady ass, probably trafficked gun for her protection. We don’t know details of where he got it. Solidifies the bro/sis relationship between Steve and Ears. Implies heavily that Javi is doing some shady things with some shady folks. A light introduction to the theme of weapons trafficking in Colombia, which was a massive problem that is barely even mentioned in the show. It will feature heavily in Better Love.

The Shoebox: Introduces the character of Arturo, Ana Delgado’s shady older brother. Ears starts wondering if Ana knows more than she should. Confirms that the Fernando Duque arc does take place in Better Love, and that Javi is genuinely torn up by it like he is in canon. This leads Ears to start thinking more deeply about that leak in Search Bloc, and she begins to actively collect evidence with the intention of sniffing out the rat and keeping Javi safe. Mentions sex trafficking, a major problem in Colombia at the time, and also a minor theme later on in Better Love.

Shit Hits the Fan: Establishes that Arturo Delgado is actually a hitman working with Los Pepes, and that he and Javi have gone on some raids together. Javi is desperate to keep this a secret from Ears, who is friends with Ana, both for her protection and because he’s kind of ashamed of how deep he’s in with Los Pepes. Establishes that in the wake of the Ferando Duque debacle, the Castaño brothers did not reach out to Stechner for help, but instead decided to put a hit out on Javi to either kill or scare him off. Javi is no longer working with Los Pepes, but he never did find out that Stechner was the one who set him up in the first place.

The White Room: Bill Stechner reveals to Ears that her purpose in Colombia is to be his own personal spy on the DEA. He is investigating a mysterious sicario named Feo in relation to a massive russian weapons ring. Bill wants Ears to report everything that the DEA learns about Feo because he suspects that Feo might have connections with FARC, a communist guerrilla group that is Stechner’s public enemy number one. Ears realizes that she’s in deep shit, and also realizes the depth of the resentment between the DEA and the CIA, and how much their goals in Colombia actually oppose. Stechner is revealed to be a real bag of dicks here.

Closing notes

Whew, okay. I will update this post periodically if more information becomes necessary or if you guys have questions, and I’ll reblog it if I do. I’m going to go ahead and tag my taglist folks in this, just because it’s a huge information dump. Of course, you probably don't need to know these things to get the gist of what’s going on in Better Love, but if you’re a chronic overanalyzer like me, it might be helpful.

Also, let me know if you guys want a list of the characters who are major players in the series. I know I had to make one for myself but I wasn’t sure if posting it would be overkill (this is probably already overkill, tbh).

Tags: @jedi-mando, @aerolanya, @pikemoreno, @bitchin-beskar, @mostly-megan, @huliabitch, @starsandmando, @starlight-starwrites, @thirstworldproblemss, @knittingqueen13, @yespolkadotkitty

Javier Peña tags: @magpie-to-the-morning, @tiffdawg, @danniburgh, @1800-fight-me

Mad love to you guys if you’ve stuck around for this long.

#Javier Peña #Javier Peña x reader #Narcos #pedro pascal #Narcos fanfiction #Javier Peña x you #Javier Peña fanfiction #Better Love #the rules of engagement #better love notes

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currywaifu · 4 years

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𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: save file 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: chigasaki itaru/reader 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw 𝐰𝐜: 3.0k words

𝐚𝐧: itaru event? itaru fic! me loving fake dating + direct af titles? nothing changed~ sequencing of events might be weird, oops~

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Itaru’s not the least bit surprised at the sight of your wrinkled nose; neither is he shocked at the crease that formed between your brows nor the narrowing of your eyes. It must be a lot to take in, truly, but it had to be done.

“Chigasaki-kun,” you said, immediately trailing off as though you couldn’t convey the rest of your thoughts. That was fine, he thought, he can wait for his SP to fill up for 100 minutes so surely he can wait a couple more minutes for your response.

It’s a bit embarrassing, but maybe he needs to explain a bit more? He doesn’t mind too much, he was putting you on the spot, after all.

“I know it’s sudden,” Itaru said apologetically, “but I need you. You’re the only one who can—“

“Chigasaki-kun,” you repeated, sounding firmer this time around. At this point, Itaru noticed that your eyes never left the cafe table that separated the two of you, or rather what laid right smack in the centre of it. As soon as he slid it towards you, your eyes had gone from wide and surprised to squinting, almost as though it had offended you.

He was so focused on your line of sight that he failed to notice the sudden rush of red that raced across your cheeks. After a moment of silence, you let out a deep breath.

“Why the fuck did you just give me a replica of Byleth’s ring from Fire Emblem?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he dug through his pocket to bring out another ring, the exact same design, “I have another one.”

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“Hey, you made it! Thanks for coming, Chigasaki-sa—“ as he took in the sight of your locked hands, his co-worker let out a comically loud gasp, before trying and failing to cover it up with an awkward cough.

Itaru’s not stupid, at the very least he’s definitely not blind or deaf. Besides the gracious host, he can tell everyone is shocked and staring. They’re not even trying to be discrete about it anymore.

The people from his department had been gossiping for all of last week, creating speculations on his love life. The theories had a lot of exaggeration, a lot of denial.

You squeezed his hand a little tighter, him reciprocating to reassure you.

Envy. Judgement.

Still, as he glanced at your face to check for any sign of discomfort only to find a poised smile, he was once again reminded by your strength and fortitude. He always admired that from you, and it was always so enthralling to see that side of you in action.

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“You’ll come, won’t you?” Itaru let out a quiet hum, yet refusing to answer immediately. Though he’d prefer to sit out of most gatherings, he particularly disliked going to non-essential get-togethers where the only real purpose was for his co-workers to eat and drink less restrained as they would with the higher-ups around.

Normally he would have some excuse conjured up, maybe even pretend to check his phone calendar and reject the invite apologetically. However, he had already skipped out three times, consecutively.

He already breached the three strikes and you’re out rule, and he’s not so sure risking going for four would be the smartest play for his reputation… but it probably wouldn’t hurt to save game and set aside his decision making for later.

“I’ll have to check my schedule. I just need to check with someone first,” he said, thinking back to the director and the rest of spring troupe. Would any of them give him an excuse he has yet to use?

“Ahh, feel free to bring your sister then!” the man paused, a small smirk appearing as his eyebrows waggled. “Unless you wanna bring, you know, a friend.”

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“You just don’t want to suffer alone,” you said, using your fork to prod at the meal he treated you to. Surely a one time gathering wasn’t all there is to it? Chigasaki Itaru, who always kept his life outside work private, suddenly wanting people to know he had a significant other?

Even though he didn’t?

“I’ve been to those— I know they suck,” you continued, your eyes darting away from the silver band to look at him properly, “will this even benefit you?”

“It’ll probably be annoying at first,” he replied, keeping eye contact to let you know how serious he was, “dealing with everyone’s questions, but they’ll eventually just accept it and stop bothering me.”

“What about me?”

“You work somewhere else— they won’t get the chance to bother you,” he pointed out, propping his elbow on the table as he rest his cheek on his knuckles. He continued seeing as you stayed silent, “plus, don’t you have anyone bothering you about your lack of a love life?”

In any other instance, you probably would have made a remark about him being too dedicated to his waifus to date as well, but you could only grimace as you recalled the upcoming family reunion. If your aunts teased you again for not being in a relationship… if your mom kept insisting that you were just hiding a secret boyfriend to delude herself…

“Fine, but in exchange—“

Itaru let out a chuckle, “so the matching rings aren’t enough? I’ll have you know, they’re Class A replicas.”

You snorted, “stop, stop! I’m being serious here!” you said, lightly kicking his feet from beneath the table. When he moved to retaliate, you hastily pushed your feet beneath your chair.

“Oi—“

“Just kidding, just kidding!“ he said, raising his hands up in surrender, “so, how can I help you?”

“… you up for a family reunion lunch on Sunday?”

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“So, like, do we need to prepare any— dude, dude, dude what the…? This part of your island is—” Even without heading over to where you were, he immediately knew which area you were cackling about.

“That’s the nature dump! Obviously not gonna terraform it yet?” Itaru replied, “I need a place to place all the normie flowers?”

He heard you scoff, your animal crossing character running up to his and hitting him with a net.

“Not that dump, dummy! Why are there toilets? The fences— toilets—“ you trailed off, unable to help yourself from bursting back into laughter. He instinctively laughed alongside you, knowing the monstrosity you were talking about.

“What kind of idiot makes a pathway out of toilets?”

“Hey! They create a cool effect when you walk past it!” he said, defending himself as your character hit his on the head again, “kind of like a clam opening up—“

“It’s a toilet! Not a clam!”

“Ya? Well I, Taruchi, am a resident of Urinetown, subtitle: actually an island and not a town,” Itaru said, almost as if he was proud of himself. “Before you come from me, Urinetown is a musical about capitalism. What’s your excuse, Pen Island?”

You gasped, obviously fake but dramatic enough to continue your banter “I’ll have you know, the actual name is Pen Isles? Also, you named our Stardew Valley farm—“ you paused, as though realising something, “wait, wasn’t I going to ask you something?”

“… pfft, GJ.”

■■■■■■■■■□□□□□ NOW LOADING SAVE FILE 4 LOADED

Itaru watched you introduce yourself to the rest of the room, your words polite but brimming with a confidence that was rare to see from his friend turned pretend s/o… or at least, that was what he initially thought.

Maybe this side of you just so happened to be particularly evident tonight, ringing throughout your voice and exhibited by your body language; that didn’t mean it was hidden before this instance.

There was a certain charm to you. Always been, but he never really acknowledged it. It was the little things, like how you were never hesitant about adding to his commentary when you two played Co-Op, or the playfulness you showed from time to time, or your genuineness around him— kind, but not taking bullshit from him or anyone.

If he was reading the room right, he can’t blame them for being even a little bit enthralled with you.

Even if it didn’t exactly sit right with him.

“I didn’t know Chigasaki-kun was dating someone!” a brave soul piped up from the sidelines, probably vocalising what everyone else was holding back from saying. Huh, wasn’t she one of the people who fiercely denied the rumour that he was in a relationship?

He doesn’t miss the way the corners of your lips quirked downwards for a split second, before lifting back upwards as though it never happened.

“Well, Itaru can be a bit private,” you replied, a muffled but silvery giggle escaping escaping your lips, “though I suppose I’m a bit of the same? Might be why we’re compatible.”

The woman who asked flushed slightly, and he was sure it wasn’t from any alcohol consumed. Even still, he found himself mirroring the pink hue.

Itaru?

■■■■■■■■■■■□□□ NOW LOADING SAVE FILE 3 LOADED

“Itaru,” he repeated to you for the third time tonight.

“Shoot, sorry,” you apologised, making your animal crossing character portray your shock at your slip-up again. Lmao, that was cute. “Damn… it’s weird going from Chigasaki-kun to just Itaru.”

It was his turn to hit your character with a net.

“Taruchi isn’t that far from Itaru, and you call me that all the time,” he stated, snorting at the little huff that was somehow still audible on call.

“Calling you your IGN is way different though?” you protested, “I can’t just call you that in public?”

“Shame it might expose me irl,” he sighed in disappointment, “it would have been cute to have my gamer s/o go ‘uwu Taruchi, fighto!’”

“Hahhh? Was it ever cute any time I called you Taruchi?” you asked, incredulousness present in your tone as you proceeded to mock him, “uwu, Taruchi, fighto!… there, was that cute at all?”

Itaru’s hand slid up to cover his face, his growing smile lifting his cheeks upward. You were clearly just joking around, but, well, “who knows? Maybe if you said ‘Taruchi-sama, ganbatte! I’d be able to—“

“Itaru!” you interrupted, immediately making the human equivalent noise of a keyboard smash, your little avatar running around in circles as he imagined what expression your face had right now.

Amidst his unrestrained laughter, he managed to squeeze in his next sentence in parts. “You— you finally said it! Otsu~”

■■■■■■■□□□□□□□ NOW LOADING SAVE FILE 4 LOADED

You had only called him ‘Itaru’ that one time, every other time being ‘Taruchi’ in private or ‘Itaru-kun’ in public. Still, hearing you say his name in person instead of on the phone made it feel like the first time again.

Luckily for him, he didn’t get that much time to dwell on it. Someone had lead you two to sit somewhere, surrounded by more of his polite and friendlier coworkers. Exchanging pleasantries with them was easy enough, as was answering questions about your relationship.

They’ve had multiple test runs after all. There was no way they were messing up any details, there was no room or possibility of either of them even fumbling.

“How long have you two known each other?”

“We’ve been friends since university,” you replied, something that was actually true, “it took years for me to even confess! I’m just glad Itaru accepted,” you gave him a purposeful glance, your bashful expression nearly enough to lead him to believe that you really did have a crush on him all this time.

“So you two have been together since—?”

“After my graduation,” Itaru supplied helpfully, “so it’s been a few years.”

“That’s so sweet! You know,” the woman in front of you lowered her voice, and you leaned in a little closer to listen in, “a lot of us were wondering if Chigasaki was dating anyone after we saw his ring. I thought it was just a fashion statement, but now I know it’s the real deal!”

She eyed the silver band on your ring finger, one that completely matched his.

“The rings are beautiful! The design is completely unique,” another person commented. Itaru felt your ring finger loop around his own, and the two of you turned to look at each other, sharing an amused grin.

If only they knew it was actually really well-done game merch.

■■■■■■■■■□□□□□ NOW LOADING SAVE FILE 2 LOADED

“What’s the point of the rings, though?” you asked, curious of just how far Itaru was taking this plan anyway.

“Do you not like it?” Itaru asked. Undeniably, he would be a bit upset if you ended up not liking the ring. After all, he bought it because—

“It’s lovely,” you said sincerely, carefully picking up the ring, “just surprised you already had rings on hand?”

He chuckled apprehensively, “I was going to save it as a friendship anniversary gift,” he explained, “I still feel a little guilty I didn’t get you anything last year.”

“You don’t have to get me anything anyway,” you said reassuringly, “but I appreciate it.”

He watched you slip the ring on your left ring finger, mouth opening up to apologise as he saw how loose the ring was on you, about to offer to have it resized immediately before you interrupted with quiet laughter.

“It’s a bit awkward right now, but I love it.”

■■■■■■■■■■■□□□ NOW LOADING SAVE FILE 4 LOADED

The get-together was going really well, surprisingly. He still would have preferred to be in the comfort of his room, but your presence just made everything so much easier. Even the questions people threw at the two of you weren’t so bothersome, dodging the more nosy people and sticking with anything general.

It had somehow become a game between the two of you. It was like an act off, almost, of who could give the more impressive or heart fluttering statement. Whether it was for the sake of your audience or to just affect each other remains unsaid.

“What do you like about Itaru?”

You looked away from him, closing your eyes as though you were thinking. To be fair, anything real personality or gaming related was out of bounds. Would you cater your response to his work persona, or—

“Everything!”

He nearly choked on air, trying to ignore the urge to clutch at his heart.

“That’s no fair, give something more specific!”

“I do like everything about Itaru, though?” you said with a cute pout, “but I guess I like his kindness the most. He’s always so thoughtful and considerate. He’s a busy man, but he always finds the time to help me out when I need it.”

Everyone cooed at the two of them, but he found it difficult to concentrate on that when he could only cling onto the words that started to sound more and more real as the night went by.

Out of context, everything you said could be interpreted as you just being friendly, but there was something in the way you pronounced his name and the expression on your face as you talked about him that was… different.

“What about you, Chigasaki?”

Escaping from his thoughts, his mind was filled to the brim with thoughts, but the words refused to spill from his lips.

Was there a way to describe how captivated he was at your little quirks, from the random filler noises you’d make on call or text when words failed you, to the literal quirk of the corner of your lips as you shifted expressions.

Was there a way express his appreciation for sticking by him for years, regardless of his hidden side? Was there a way to express his gratefulness for the laughter rendered and the tears wiped off by you; the smile blooming on his face as he imitated your own subconsciously?

This was the one thing he couldn’t have a manual or guide to study, so he could only hope that he went with the right dialogue choice.

“Everything too, actually.”

■■■■■■■■■■■■■□ AUTOSAVING AUTOSAVE SUCCESSFUL!

The drive back home was quiet. He was exhausted, and he could tell you were too, but as he neared your street his driving got slower and slower, almost unmoving. From the corner of his eye, he saw you fiddle with your ring, twisting it around your fourth finger before pulling it off completely.

“Oh, we’re here,” you said out loud, yet you didn’t make a move to reattach your seatbelt.

“Itaru.”

Oh, wow. If hearing it a while ago trumped hearing it over call, then hearing you murmur his name in private, with just the two of you present, was…

“You look like you have something on your mind,” you continued, “all throughout the whole get-together, actually. Are you okay?”

When everything about this, about you simultaneously felt so new yet so familiar to him, how could he possibly convey his feelings? His admiration, no, his love for you?

He took the ring from your grasp, and before you could question what was up, he had grabbed your hand as well. With a serendipitous conscientiousness, he slid the ring back onto your ring finger, admiring your rosy glow that managed to be visible even with how dark out it was outside.

“The things you said a while ago,” he began, some hesitance still remaining as his thumb glided over your ring, “sounded really convincing.”

You wouldn’t meet his eyes. For a few seconds the both of you kept silent, until you finally broke it off, “maybe I wasn’t lying in the first place.”

He stiffened, pausing his previous ministrations as you continued, “… were you?”

Looking back at the past week, he almost laughed. Other than already being in a relationship, was anything between the two of you ever a lie to begin with?

“I wasn’t, either,” he replied. Taking in a deep breath, your gaze finally locked with his, he took the next step.

“If… if I promise to always be there for you, to hold your hand, help you fight your battles, and shield you from attacks… would you have me?”

want to order again?

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theshipsfirstmate · 4 years

Text

Agents of SHIELD Fic: Tell Me I Got Here at the Right Time

finale and post-finale dousy spec. What if they had to fully reset the timeline before they could take it back? What if Daisy was left out of that decision?

A/N: Genuinely don’t know where this came from, other than I can’t seem to stop writing for these two. Also, I want to state for the record that I love Peggy Carter and shipped peggysous, but these two just have my heart and inspiration rn.

Title from “Here at the Right Time” by Josh Ritter.

Tell Me I Got Here at the Right Time (AO3 - wc: 4378)

They think she can’t hear them. In truth, Daisy wishes they were right.

“I still don’t think this is a good idea.” Simmons has regained a good bit of her sparkle since Fitz’s return, but the worry in her voice is what’s most evident now.

“I know. I’m not sure I do either.” There’s a muffled sound after Fitz’s response that Daisy guesses is Simmons swatting at his arm.

“It’s your idea!” she hisses. “What if-“

“Don’t even say it,” her husband answers. “And it’s not my idea. You know that.”

They choose that moment to step back outside, where Daisy’s wringing the nerves out of her hands, hoping to twist them into even more resolve before she steps into the makeshift portal. She knows Fitz has run over a hundred successful tests, has seen over half of them first-hand. But still.

He’s the one of the pair who meets her eyes first, so she hones in before he can try to talk her out of it again. “You promised.”

“I shouldn’t have,” he admits. He’s probably right. But he knows what it means to her, and they all know she would have found another way if he’d refused to help.

“But you did.”

“Yes, I did.” Fitz grimaces, hazarding a glance at his wife, who’s rubbing anxiously at her arms, and then sighs. “Daisy, are you really sure? If something happens to you…”

“I’m sure.” And she is. Danger be damned. “I’m going. I have to.”

She’s had more than enough of time travel. They all have. She’d be happy to never jump again for the rest of her life. But when she regained consciousness after that final battle with Malick and realized the sacrifices that had been made to defeat the Chronicoms for good, she knew immediately that she would be making at least one more trip.

They’d had to do it, the team swore, though they all had a hard time looking her in the eye. Everything, and everyone, had to go back to its rightful place before they could steal the timestream back from Sybil. Daisy didn’t fault them, but her heart broke down to pieces just the same when she woke up to find an empty chair at the foot of her recovery bed.

“He didn’t want to go. He made us promise to tell you that,” Simmons had told her tearfully, needlessly. She already knew.

It took her less than a month to come up with the plan, but a bit longer to convince the rest of the team -- and Daisy still thought of them as a team, scattered though they were now to their own concerns.

What sealed it for everyone else was a newly-discovered footnote from an historical S.H.I.E.L.D. ledger.

“According to public records, Daniel Sousa still died at the Hotel Roosevelt on July 22, 1955, like he was supposed to,” she’d explained on their video conference, even though the words burned in her throat. “But not long after, an underground faction of early S.H.I.E.L.D. agents started to assemble in the Los Angeles office. They organized in secret, and fought against the shadier HYDRA factions, every time one of its slimy snake heads popped out of the ground. They didn’t always win. But they did their best.”

“We know Peggy Carter was one of their leaders,” Daisy told the group. “But there’s no solid information on any of the others.”

“You think Agent Sousa faked his death again. On his own.” Simmons had been the one to put her pieces together, to say out loud the hope that was stuck in her throat.

“We gave him the blueprint,” Daisy nodded. None among them doubted his devotion to rooting out HYDRA, but she knew hope was part of what had her convinced, and she promised she’d weigh their approval before she’d risk her life. “It would be just like him to keep fighting.”

Fitz had mastered the tech in his time away, and had, of course, immediately started constructing a prototype in his backyard before she’d even thought to ask, much to Simmons’ chagrin. As it stands in modern-day Manchester, it looks like a simple phone booth -- a nerdy tribute Daisy’s dying to tease him about -- but he can calibrate it to any coordinates and time in the known universe. And she knows where she needs to be.

“What if he really is dead?” May had been the one to ask the questions no one else dared, though even she had waited for a private phone call to bring them up. “Or what if something happened, and he doesn’t remember you?”

“Then I’ll know for sure,” she’d answered, in part working to convince herself. There was perhaps a fate worse than being forgotten, in this case. “And even if…. even if he doesn’t want to come back, I’ll at least get to say a proper goodbye.”

It was clear everyone had their doubts, but even the most stalwart member of her found family couldn’t deny her that much.

“You’d better come back.” Simmons is tearing up again, and Daisy definitely cannot handle that right now. “Your goddaughter will be waiting.”

That’s been the hardest part of any of this. It had been a surprise when Fitz returned, just moments after they’d successfully banished the Chronicoms back to their own space and time. It had been a bigger surprise that he’d appeared with a pigtailed toddler in his arms, who’d immediately wriggled out of his grasp and wrapped herself familiarly around Simmons’ legs.

Their daughter was two, almost three, when Simmons forced herself to forget her, but she was brilliant, of course, and somehow made of even stronger stuff than her parents. She powered through her mother’s initial shock and dismay and overwhelming guilt, helping to mend all of their hearts in the process. (Fitz had also dutifully shown her pictures of her S.H.I.E.L.D. family, so she recognized “Auntie May,” “Big Mack” and the rest -- and had a special spot in her heart for “Aunt Dede,” which Daisy did not take for granted.)

“I’ll be back,” she promised. “You tell her to read Rocky a story every night for me.”

She and Simmons had stayed up the night before -- after putting the little girl to bed alongside her favorite cuddly toy -- talking through all of the possible contingencies. Almost none of them were worse than never knowing, never getting any sort of closure, her friend had agreed. Almost.

“You remember the order, yeah?”

“Yes, Fitz,” Daisy answers dutifully, trying not to roll her eyes. They’ve been over this fifty times, and drilled it in person at least ten. It’s more time and practice than they ever used to get in the field, on the fly. She’s itching to get a move on. “Launch, exit, cloak the device with the watch…”

“Then, when you’re ready to come back, de-cloak, enter and launch. It should bring you right back here.”

“No matter what,” Simmons chimes in, casting her a look that says much more than her simple reminder. “24 hours is the limit.”

“I know,” Daisy nods, nervously smoothing down her period-appropriate ensemble. “I just need to see him.”

Fitz and Simmons nod solemnly in unison -- if anyone can understand it, it’s them -- and with that, Daisy steps into the booth, preprogrammed with her coordinates, and hits the button on her modified wristwatch.

The jolt of the jump feels familiar, which she takes as a good sign, and when she steps out of the booth, a quick survey of her surroundings allows her to exhale a sigh of relief as she cloaks the pod.

Fitz had plotted out an alley next to the old SSR office in Los Angeles. They know from de-classified S.H.I.E.L.D. documents that the underground corps started in a hidden basement office of the same building, so that’s Daisy’s best guess as to a starting point. It’s a few weeks after his “death,” and if she knows Sousa, he barely missed a day of work.

She double-checks the lobby just to make sure she’s at the right spot, and then sneaks back around the side to slide in through a basement window well. She lands in some kind of storage room, full of file folders and cobwebs, and makes her way to the cluttered, dingy hallway, where, behind a closed, unmarked door, she hears a familiar voice that makes her breath catch in her throat.

“They need to keep thinking I’m dead,” he’s explaining to someone. But he’s not, and the relief is enough to make her brace herself on the doorframe. “And we need to find out what exactly Stark knows about what I was carrying, and more importantly, what he knows about who might be after it.”

Daisy takes a slow, deep breath and knocks softly on the door — and three things happen. First, she hears the conversation go silent, saved for a concerned murmur. Second, Sousa opens the door and she sees him for the first time in months, handsomely square as ever in a dark grey suit and pale green dress shirt. And third, she scans the room and realizes there’s a non-zero chance that she’s about to cry in front of Peggy Carter.

“Daisy?” Sousa’s eyes go wide when he sees her, and it’s hard to be concerned about comporting herself in the presence of the legendary founder of S.H.I.E.L.D. when she’s wondering if his heart is stuttering in his chest the same way as her own.

It hits her in that moment, how much she’s boxed away the memory of him, how much she refused to let herself mourn his loss. He’s right there in front of her -- the man who’d carried her out of Malick’s torture chamber on a bum leg and kept vigil as she healed, the man who’d pushed her towards closure with her mother when she needed it most, the man who had appeared in her life and upended it simply by being kind and loyal and supportive in a way that she’s never known another person to be -- and god, she’s missed him.

“Agent Sousa,” she grins, even as traitorous tears threaten to cloud her vision. “Good to see you again.”

He stares at her, slack-jawed for a long moment, saying only her name again, but softer, and that’s when she realizes she’s frozen too, helpless to move at the consoling sight of him. They only startle from their reverie when the third person in the room primly clears her throat.

“Pardon my manners.” Daisy moves past Sousa, hyper-aware of all the places she brushes against him, to finally break his disbelieving gaze and extend her hand. “Agent Daisy Johnson.”

“She’s CIA,” Sousa adds after her, and they both watch Agent Carter bristle a little, so he tacks on: “One of the good ones.”

“Well if Daniel vouches for you, it much be true,” the woman stands and straightens her skirt, still eying Daisy suspiciously as she reaches out her own hand to shake. “Peggy Carter.”

“Of course I know who you are.” This earns Daisy a small frown, so she scrambles to cover. “From Daniel… er, Sousa -- he’s told me all about the great work you guys are doing here.”

Another frown, and a glance at the man behind her. Daisy realizes after the fact that it would make a better compliment if the work they were doing here wasn’t supposed to be top secret.

“Are you alright?” Sousa’s brain starts catching up, and he reaches out, fingertips brushing against her waist, before pulling his hands back just as suddenly. “Is everything okay? How are you….here?”

“I…” Daisy hazards another awkward glance at Agent Carter, who’s looking at her like she just stepped out of a spaceship, which, honestly? Not far off. “It’s kind of a complicated story.”

“I’ll give you two a moment,” the other woman offers, her accent masking politeness over her obvious concern. “Then, Daniel, if you-”

“I know,” he answers, though he never takes his eyes off Daisy. “Of course, I-- thank you, we’ll just be a minute.”

“An honor to meet you, truly,” Daisy stutters as Peggy freakin’ Carter exits with a slightly disapproving eyebrow raised in their direction. Simmons is going to kill her.

Sousa closes the door and turns back to face her slowly, almost like he’s preparing himself to find an empty room. But the second his eyes meet hers, the paralyzing effects of surprise and awkwardness fade and Daisy rushes forward into his arms. Burying her face in his neck and catching the scent of his aftershave, she feels herself relax for the first time in a long time.

“Daisy.” He whispers her name, still sounding just as awed, but this time, it’s for her alone. “I thought… is this real?”

“Yes,” she nods into his shoulder, trying not to let him notice that the word comes out on a sob. “I’m sorry.”

Sorry they made you go. Sorry I wasn’t there to stop them. Sorry there wasn’t time to tell you. Like everything else when it comes to him, the apology is so much and not enough, all at once.

“Don’t be sorry.” He pulls back a little, takes her face in his hands and swipes his thumbs at the tears that are smudging her eyes. “Don’t cry. Please.”

“I woke up and you were gone.” She didn't let herself cry about it at the time, the combination of shock and other distractions keeping her emotions occupied. But every time she came to, alone in that healing chamber, was a fresh wave of heartbreak, and they’re all returning to her now, on a tide of tears. “And I--”

“I didn’t want to go,” Sousa interrupts, reaching down to squeeze her hands in his.

She just nods, still taking in the sight of him. “I know.”

“Why— how are you here now?” His brow furrows and she knows exactly where he’s gone, from shock to worry. “Is everything okay?”

It’s the kind concern in his eyes, the way he’s still steady and supportive, even when she’s dropped in from the future, unannounced, pulling the rug out from under him once again. (If she’s totally honest, it’s also the set of his jaw and the memory of how his chest felt beneath her palms.) Daisy lets herself give in, reaching up for his shirt collar in a familiar movement, and pulls him down to capture his lips. Just like before, he pauses for a second and then gives chase, kissing her back with a passion she thought she’d been exaggerating in her memories.

“Sorry,” she whispers again when they pause for a breath, even though this time she’s really not.

“Please don’t be sorry for that,” he grins, blinking his eyes open slowly. She remembers that soft look of wonder, from a stolen moment when there wasn’t enough time to bask in it.

“I just- We did that once before,” she admits, “back in the time loops. But you didn’t remember.”

“Well, now I’m extra glad you came back, if only to remind me,” he grins, and it makes her want to kiss him all over again. So she does. But he keeps this one quick, pulling back to ask again, “How did you come back? What’s the plan here?”

Daisy doesn’t quite realize what he’s asking at first.

“Fitz knocked off the Chronicom tech and built his own pod,” she answers, fluttering her hand to the side before bringing it back to his lapel. “I’ve got 24 hours before I’ve got to bring it back.”

There’s a question that goes along with her explanation, but she can’t find the words to ask it just yet, not when the answer could break what’s left of her heart. Instead, she tells him the first truth at the front of her mind. “I just missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” he answers. His hands are warm around her waist and she has the fleeting thought that it’s been worth it, even if this is all she gets. And then, because she didn’t catch his meaning the first time, because some part of him knows some part of her better than anyone ever has, he just... asks.

“So, can I come back?”

Daisy goes light-headed with possibility. It can’t be this easy. “What?”

“Can I come back with you?” She watches for a joke in his eyes but it’s the same old earnest Sousa. “Will they let me? Will it… end the world?”

“No. I mean, yes. Are you sure?” She’s not even sure if her words are forming coherent sentences. Every relationship in her life has been fraught with conflict and heartbreak, for as long as she can remember -- and this one she just gets to have?

“Yes, I’m sure.” Now the teasing smile makes a hint of an appearance. “I’ve been wondering if you’d come back for me since the minute I woke up back in my old house.”

That confession hits her sideways, just like it had when she asked if he was the type who liked picking other people back up when they fell, and he’d looked into her eyes -- and even deeper -- and answered: “Not for everyone.”

She knows what the longing has been like for her. But she had so much more time with it than he did. They never even came close to defining this...thing, this flint of friction that gives off sparks between them, and still, he’s just been here. Waiting.

“You had goodbyes you wanted to say, loose ends,” she recalls, trying to clear the whiplash from her mind. The last thing she wants is for him to take the leap and regret it halfway down.

She shuffles a small step back, but unwilling to completely lose contact, takes one of his hands in her own, studying it intently as she offers him the easy out.

“Daisy.” Sousa lets out a little humorless laugh. “You know they had to knock me out to send me back, right?”

She didn’t know that, actually, and her fists start to clench in an instinctive response. But he eases them open, drawing her gently back towards him, and she follows.

“My loose ends aren’t in the past anymore,” he says softly, rubbing a thumb over the pulse point at her wrist. “I came back and I made my peace -- said what I needed to say to the people that needed to hear it.”

He glances towards at the door -- she’d known that one of those conversations was always meant for Peggy Carter -- and then back at her, and she believes him. Somehow she trusted him from the beginning, even when she had little more than his name and photo on an old S.H.I.E.L.D. file, and she trusts him now more than ever, even as a tiny bit of skepticism is still warring with her hopeful heart.

“But your team. The underground S.H.I.E.L.D. force. That’s you, isn’t it? You and Carter?”

“It is. And a few others. They’re gonna do good work, I know it.” She nods a confirmation. They will. “But I built it so I can lift right out. They’re a well-oiled machine already. Plus, everyone already figures my days are numbered.”

He’s been planning for this. For her. Of all the possible outcomes, she hadn’t even thought to hope for one where he was waiting with his bags packed, metaphorical or otherwise. He’s a constant surprise and it makes her heart leap to dangerous places every time.

“I went back to work because I’m devoted to the cause,” Sousa continues, “but if you think I haven’t spent every free moment trying to figure a way back to you, thinking about what I’d do if I saw you again...”

“Daniel...” There isn’t much more to say but his name, and even that’s difficult when her throat is thick with emotion.

“Unless you don’t want me to.” He saves her again, breaking the heavy moment by teasing her some more.

“Of course I do,” Daisy answers, swiping under her eyes. “But I’m gonna ask if you're sure a couple hundred more times.”

He nods, lips pursed. “My answer won’t change.”

“Okay, but we do have some time,” she reminds him with a nervous laugh, even as she’s starting to have faith in his certainty. “You want to sleep on it? Get some dinner or something?”

He grins even wider. “Yeah, you know, pizza sounds good. Your place? In about sixty years?”

She rolls her eyes at him, achingly grateful for even the hint of their familiar dynamic amid all this intensity. “All right, all right, old man. I get it.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah, I do.” She reaches up to soothe her thumb over the crinkle beside his eye, another tiny detail she’s spent the last few months missing. “But you can keep reminding me.”

He catches her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm and promising, “I can do that.”

She takes a deep breath as he gathers his suit jacket from the back of the chair. Here goes everything. It’s not until they turn to leave that she realizes.

“Do you need to…”

He’s a little solemn when he catches her meaning, but she’s surprised when it doesn’t make her worry. “Give me just a moment with Peggy, and I’ll meet you…”

“In the alleyway,” she finishes. “I came in through the storage room.”

He nods, and tugs her close for a hard and fast kiss to her lips that has her still dazed when she grasps for the door handle.

To Agent Carter’s credit, she only looks slightly impatient when Daisy exits, pursing her lips as she brushes past her in the narrow hallway, unsure of what else to do or say. There’s an echoing silence that borders on uncomfortable, and then the other woman speaks.

“He’s been different lately,” she offers softly, like a secret, before she’s close enough for Sousa to hear, and Daisy stops in her tracks.

“I thought it was the obvious. I got the sense he was weighing his days after nearly dying. But he’s been waiting for you, hasn’t he?”

Daisy nods, sheepishly, turning back to meet eyes that impossibly seem to already know what’s about to happen. “To be fair,” she answers, truthfully, “I was waiting for him, too.”

The S.H.I.E.L.D. founder gives her a small smile then, and to her surprise, it’s one she recognizes from the mirror. It’s genuine, but sad, and Daisy feels it even deeper because she knows that an affection for the kind and loyal man waiting on them both isn’t the only emotional baggage they have in common. (A very small, very selfish part of her counts her blessings, though, that the other woman hadn’t been able to love Sousa the way he deserves.)

She nods in return, and makes her way back down the hallway, back through the cluttered room, back out to the alley, and back to where she first landed, where she ends up standing, waiting, twisting her hands nervously for the second time in just a few hours. But before she even has long enough to start worry that he’s having second thoughts, Daniel rounds the corner with a suitcase in hand and a grin on his face she wants to remember forever.

“You’re ready?” she asks. He nods, never breaking his stride or her gaze. “You’re sure?”

“I told you,” he assures, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “my answer’s not changing.”

“And Carter?” She takes his hand to step him back against the building, away from where their portal might appear. It’s only partially a distraction from an nerves that might be lingering on her face.

“She understands.” Sousa laces their fingers together and squeezes. “And I may have told her there’s a chance I could pop back around someday, if she needs me.”

He’s not totally out of line. Fitz had warned that the tech was to be used for emergencies only, but Simmons will surely convince him that anything involving Peggy Carter constitutes a proper emergency.

“She doesn’t seem like someone who would be very supportive of a team member jumping ship mid-mission,” Daisy observes, aiming for casual, as she uncloaks the device, which is, thankfully, right where she left it. “Pun not intended.”

“She’s not, usually. But I told her the truth.” A spark of fear lights inside her chest, but he puts it out immediately. “Just enough of it. I trust her.”

“Well, if there’s anyone who can keep a secret...”

Daniel ducks his head in agreement and adds softly, “And then... I asked her if there was anything she wouldn’t do, to have more time.”

There it is again, that cymbal crash of her heart that takes her breath away. Daisy’s never known a man like this, and while she knows the future is always uncertain, she’s grateful to the abstract laws of time, science, fate and whatever else that she doesn’t have to lose him to the past.

“So, where are we headed?” Daniel follows her into the booth with a hand at the small of her back. It’s a bit of a tighter fit than her arrival trip, but neither of them mind in the slightest.

“If the wind is right, English countryside, 2020,” she answers with a grin. It’s a bit of luck that threading her arms around his neck allows her to kiss him and press the button on her wrist at the same time.

“We’re going home, Agent Sousa.”

#first mate fic #dousy #daisy x sousa #daisy johnson #daniel sousa #sousy #daisysous #agents of shield #dousy fic #aos fic

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