#alright . i had more thoughts but they got hijacked with jean

[smoosnoom]

also ! ive been watching attack on titan . no spoilers everyone im currently a little bit into season 4

[hopeamarsu]

Of potions and myths - Chapter 3

William “Ironhead” Miller x f!reader

Word count 3,1k

Warnings: There is a visit to the police station and the officer isn’t the most accommodation but no words are changed. Other than that, I think none

A/N: I realize not a lot happens here, but I’m working my way to reveal more of this world, their connection and adding a dash of magical au in here somewhere.  

Chapter 2 - Chapter 4

Will insists on driving you to the precinct first, to file the complaint about the man from the previous night before heading out to meet his pack. You almost want to protest, the need and itch to solve the riddle of the connection and the pull between you much larger, but one look into his eyes tells you he will not budge. So with a sigh and a kiss, you untangle yourself from his embrace and slip into your bedroom to dress for the day. 

When you come back to the kitchen, Will has already cleaned up your cups and your coffee maker and he takes your hand as you walk outside. The air is warmer now, the morning chill defeated as you step to the curb and back into his truck. The brush against your seatbelt seems almost unconscious as the blond man starts the truck and navigates into the morning traffic. 

The drive is accompanied by shy glances and soft smiles and you speak of unimportant things, getting to know one another. Favorite bands, random titbits about food and restaurants you’ve recently tried, stuff that on the surface level seems shallow but reveal a lot of each of you as you trade questions and stories. As he pulls up behind the police station, Will almost takes your hand into his, remembering the tendrils at the last moment. It might not be best to flaunt them around until you get a better understanding, he thinks, so he guides you inside with his hand hovering beside your elbow. 

You don’t notice it, but as soon as you step in, the man scans the exits and weak spots within the lobby and moves his body to best cover you as you walk to the counter. As you tell the officer manning the desk you want to report a crime, he cages you between him and the counter, one hand on your back and the other leaning over the wooden desk. Will might look relaxed and his posture easy, but he is anything but. The thrum in his chest has changed its tone and he can feel the wolf pace around as it tracks for any potential threats. 

The report is thankfully done quickly, smoothed over by Will’s convenient flip of his wallet and credentials when the officer looks up and down at you with disinterest as you explain your issue. You wrinkle your nose in annoyance when he does it, but let it pass as it gets the officer moving, pulling up documents for you to fill. Your information is jotted down, the account of the date and parties involved and you give a description of the potion (corroborated by Will) and as soon as your signature dries on the paper, the Captain whisks you outside.

“That was fast,” He comments as he guides you back to his truck, his hand radiating heat over your body. There is a non-committal hum from your pursed lips. You do not elaborate it further, but he catches the tone of it anyway. “Sweetheart, what is it?” Will grips your hand, forcing you to stop before you can step inside the car. He gently turns you around so you are face to face again. 

His blue eyes are darker again, though not in arousal. There’s worry, apprehension and something else swimming in the depths and your heart squeezes a little as you catalogue them. Hesitantly Will lets go of your arm and the spot feels cold immediately. From the corner of your eye, you see the tendrils disappear from where he touched you. “Did I do something wrong there?” 

You are quick to shake your head. “No, no! Absolutely not. It’s just… You know I was hesitant to do this in the first place and it’s because I knew this was going to happen. They would not believe me until you showed your credentials from Delta and it annoys me. Not you, the idea that just because I’m a mundane, I’m not to be believed. Like I don’t know a potion when I smell one. Just because I don’t have a neat little ID card that states I’m born into it, but have had to work my way through research to understand the intricacies. Might as well call me hysterical, you know?” 

Will tugs you in immediately, strong arms wrapping around to envelop you in a hug. Hands run up and down your body as he curses under his breath. He should’ve known not to hijack the situation, he should’ve let you handle this particular battle but he didn’t. The need to make it all go away fast got away from him. Something fierce bleeds through from his mind to yours and you gasp involuntary as it shatters your shields. The power of it knocks the wind out of you and your knees buckle. 

“Shit!” The curse is louder this time and Will reaches out behind you to open the door to the truck and he helps you sit down. “What happened, sweetheart?” His hands run across your face, your temple and your shoulders, worry etched into his features. But it's a different type of worry now, not like before when he was worried about what had happened in the precinct. This worry comes from somewhere deeper inside him, something more primal, and it rattles you as it bounces against your feeble shields, breaking them down further. 

“I’m okay, I’m… alright. I promise,” you whisper, your voice hoarse as you gasp for air. “I can just, I can just feel your emotions. And they are loud and powerful.” Will curses again and all of the emotions vanish in a flash as his own shields slam shut. You take a shuddering breath, lifting your eyes to look at him. His eyes flash between beautiful blue and intense red as he tries to get himself under control. 

“We need to go and see the elders now. If you can feel my emotions and they affect you like this, it’s not…” Will struggles for words, trying to piece it all together as he helps you get more settled on the seat. A water bottle is pushed into your hands and he urges you to sip from it. “This connection we feel, it’s growing and changing, becoming more powerful.” He finally finishes, scratching the back of his neck. 

You nod weakly but remain silent, trying to gather your bearings as you grip the bottle tight. He holds your gaze, finding something that eases his worries, and Will jumps behind the wheel. He easily navigates out of the inner city, his hand brushing periodically at yours on the seat between you as he zig-zags the streets until the truck is on the freeway and he can grasp it in his palm. 

You have a million questions running in your mind, trying to make some sort of mental list to ask the elders while building up the shields once more. You feel nervous, untethered and all over the place, wishing you had a better grip at your emotions. The analytical side of your brain is excited for the oncoming flood of information but the rest of you is scared you’ll be turned away once you reach his pack. 

As you feel your shields slowly settle and become a little stable again, you send out a small prayer to whomever is listening that even if you are turned away, Will’s pack won’t turn on him. It’s been less than 24 hours of knowing him but you don’t want to see him hurt, ever. The gnarly feeling twists your gut and you think for a second to ask him to stop and leave you by the side of the road. The second the thought hits, another follows that tells you that he would never agree to it. It calms you a little and you twist on your seat to fully look at him.

He truly looks gorgeous, you muse. His large frame looks at home behind the wheel, the grey Henley accentuating his muscles tantalizingly. As your eyes drift lower, you take in the comfortable-looking jeans hiding powerful thighs and the black watch on his hand before you focus on his tattoos, wanting to trace them closely and learn all their secrets. All of his secrets really and make them yours too. It’s a sobering thought that you will guard whatever secret he lets you in on with your life if needed.  

“We’re almost there. Just a few minutes more.” Will turns to look at you, eyes flashing red again and this time you latch onto it. You remember it happening previously at the precinct and yesterday at the pub. “Will, your eyes…” 

“My inner wolf, he knows we’re close to the pack and wants out.” He offers while turning the truck from asphalt to gravel as he guides it towards a parking place, filled with trucks and bikes and cars of all sizes. He kills the engine and takes both of your hands to his. “I promise I’ll explain them in better detail later, but I need to warn…”

Will doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence before the front door of his truck is wretched open and something large crowds it. 

“William Arthur Miller! Where the fuck have you been? You better explain yourself!” A male voice booms and you can only watch as the man is dragged out of the seat by his shirt and a smaller, leaner version of him embraces him tightly. Two other men appear in front of the truck as well, moving closer to the couple and soon you watch all four men embracing together. 

Carefully you step out of the truck too, leaning against it as you witness the men that are oblivious to the world for that moment. It’s endearing, the love that they have for one another, so clear in the gentle touches and noses burrowing into each other's skin to confirm that they are really all here.  

It takes some time for the group hug to disperse, allowing you to study the minute movements and shifts and build up your own strength for what’s to come. But once they do separate, suddenly three pairs of eyes look at you curiously. You see two sets flash yellow and one bright electric blue as the men study you, but the colors are quickly hidden when they realize you are not a wolf yourself. 

“Will, who is this?” The same voice speaks up again, the man looking at you with doubt in his eyes. The electric blue flashes in and out of his eyes and you wonder what it means and curse yourself for focusing more on other things than wolves. You can feel tension rise in the air as the men close ranks, form a sort of a wall in front of you and the truck, blocking all exits.  

“Sweetheart, I would like you to meet my brothers. Ben,” Will feels the tension too and shifts to stand next to you and points at the man who has spoken. Ben’s eyebrows rise at the term of endearment but he only tips his head in acknowledgement as the man beside him nudges his ribs. “Frankie,”  He nods towards the man next to Ben who is wearing a baseball cap and a grey T-shirt. Next to him, a shorter man with inquisitive eyes and salt-and-pepper curly hair steps forward and holds out his hand.

“Santiago, but you may call me Pope. And you are?”  You grasp his hand, the firm and dry handshake, something you expect from a man who holds himself like a soldier. You introduce yourself, nodding to Ben and Frankie before dropping Pope’s hand. Will’s large hand comes to rest at the curve of your hip.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call or text last night, but something came up.” Will looks down at you, softness creeping up his features as he speaks. You answer him with a tiny smile and he squeezes your hip.   

Ben is about to open his mouth, maybe to throw a joke or a barb but a quick grip of his wrist from Frankie stops him. He flashes his eyes at the younger man who snaps his mouth shut immediately. Santiago takes one look at the closeness between your and Will’s bodies and he nods, his eyes flashing yellow as he narrows them before adopting a neutral look quickly. 

“Understandable. Maybe we could take this into a more calm place and we can talk?” It’s phrased as a question but you feel like it's more a command as the others all nod quickly and begin walking along the path leading away from the parking lot. Will guides you in front of him, taking up position right behind you and not letting his hand fall. 

Up the path, you see several houses, most of them built so that the backyard leads into the forest surrounding you. After a few minutes of walking, you stop and turn to face one of the houses. It’s beautiful, full of warm wood tones and a beautiful garden. “Santi’s wife works as our healer, hence the full yard. There’s more in the back,” Will whispers in your ear, chuckling low at your interested look. “I’ll introduce you later, I think you and Yovanna would get along well.” 

The inside of the house smells of herbs, cooking and love and it feels so homey that it makes your chest ache. You wish to soak all the scents and feelings deep into your bones, bask in the glow and allow it to centre you. This feels like everything you’ve ever wanted and you never want to leave the foyer, but that is not in the cards just yet. With a small tug Will guides you to the living room, gesturing you to sit down on the loveseat. Ben takes up the armchair and Frankie plops down on the couch, followed by Pope. 

The energy in the room changes once more, becoming more charged as the men study you again. You brace yourself, upping your shields and unconsciously lean towards Will as you wait for someone to talk.

To your surprise, it’s Will. He speaks calmly, explaining what transpired in the pub and you see the men sit up straighter as they realize what could’ve happened had their brother not interfered. He then tells his brothers about the pull he felt as he took you home and how he was unable to leave the street, his need of protecting you outweighing everything. You watch Pope’s eyebrows raise in surprise as Will describes the warmth and the hunger he felt, still feels, as you are close. 

Frankie rises up from his seat and mumbles something about making a call and you know that the elders will come here, soon. Your hands find Wills and you squeeze it between yours, drawing strength from your connection. As your skin touches his, the tendrils appear, dancing on your skins though they are more muted now and Ben gasps. 

“Holy shit! What the fuck is that?!” 

“That’s what we need to find out, Benny. All we know so far is that we are drawn to one another like magnets, these appear when we touch and as of this morning we can feel each other's emotions. They don’t affect me as much yet, but there is definitely potential for it to incapacitate.”

Pope remains silent, his eyes flitting between yours, your intertwined hands and Will. “What are you?” He questions finally, just as Frankie returns to the living room. Before you can answer, the man slaps Pope’s head. “You can’t go around just asking that, cabrón, you know that.”

“Well, this isn’t anything I’ve ever seen before. Either you are something very powerful and do this on purpose, or something nefarious is at play here,” Pope offers. Dark eyes study you, the tension in the room growing as seconds tick by. Your eyes move from his to Ben’s and to Frankie before you turn your head to look at Will. He gives you the tiniest of nods and you roll your shoulders before looking at Pope again.  

“I was raised as a mundane, but I’ve been studying potions and spells for a long time. I work as a researcher at the museum's antique artefacts and extracts department. I know the basics but I promise you, any power that I possess is tiny compared to practising witches.” 

You speak calmly, wanting to diffuse any malice before it takes root. You glance at Will again, your eyes betraying you as they are filled with worry and fear. He smiles reassuringly and cups the back of your neck, kissing you fast, unafraid. 

It’s a possessive move as he devours your mouth, not caring an inch that his brothers are in the same room as you are. He pulls you in closer so that you are leaning towards his chest, hands on his pectorals and neck as he continues kissing you. You know the tendrils make another appearance as someone, maybe Frankie, gasps softly but you are lost to the kiss and in Will.

A cough finally separates you from one another but his large hand on your cheek doesn’t allow you to move far. “It’s going to be alright, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he murmurs to your lips before straightening himself to look at the other occupants of the room. There’s steel in his eyes, challenging any of his brothers to start anything, but none of them do. You watch intently as the men eye one another, the bond they share crackling in the room. Benny is the first to rip his gaze off, followed shortly by Frankie and Pope.   

“Ironhead, we always have your back, you know that.” Frankie finally speaks in a calm tone as he takes the lead and diffuses the situation. “But .. You glow when you kiss. Literally glow in gold and silver. How is this happening?” He glances at Ben and Pope, both nodding in surprised agreement.

A knock on the door shuts up any explanation you want to give and all four men rise to their feet quickly. Following their example, you lift yourself up too and Will tucks you under his arm. 

You can feel his emotions rush in his veins, mixing with yours but you are prepared this time and as they brush you, you embrace them and do not fight. You can feel your shields opening up minutely, the calming effect spreading through both of you as the connection sings in approval. You turn to face the door as Pope opens it. 

The elders are here.

*

Of potions and myths taglist: @mylifeisactuallyamess​ @luxmundee​ @innerpaperexpertcloud​

Everything taglist (I fully understand if you want to skip this one, please let me know and I’ll remove you!) @clydesducktape​ @wayward-rose​ @themuseic​ @miraclesabound​ @clydesfavoritegirl​ @a-true-janian-reply​  @10blurredsmoke10​  @caillea​ @mariesackler​

[gingyboo]

Mirror Mirror

A/N: Again many thanks to @booglebug

Description- Soulmates existed. People knew that much. Soulmates were rare, a handful in each generation, an unexplainable phenomenon that formed a bond closer than blood and more sacred than marriage.

Bucky finds his soulmate when he needs her most. Little does he know how much she needs him too.

(Soulmate au that slots pretty much in to the MCU but with soulmates. Set after TFATWS.)

Pairing- Bucky Barnes x OFC

Warnings- Mentions of violence and guns, but its mostly fluff, drama and angst.

This is a multi chaptered fic.

Please like, comment, reblog!

prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

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

Chapter 5

Sam woke them up the next morning dropping into one of the armchairs with a loud sigh.

‘’Well, isn’t this cosy,’’ he announced, Bucky shot up with a start, but Nancy rose much slower pushing her hair out of her face.

‘’Anything from Torres?’’ Bucky asked noticing Sam was fully kitted out in his suit again.

‘’They’re holding him at an army base off the m20, they’ve approved us leaving from there. So, there’s a high chance they haven’t just let you go, so getting out of London might be difficult.’’

‘’Right so let’s take stock,’’ Nancy said now seemingly alert.

‘’Metal arm, I’ve got the shield and the wings, what can you bring to the table?’’ Nancy sighed racking her brain.

‘’I’ve got a degree in English literature.’’ She answered with a hopeful smile, Bucky snorted.

‘’Okay well we’ve got that too.’’ Nancy left them discussing a plan to go and get packed. She entered her room, pink and white candy-striped wallpaper adorned the walls, the large mirror opposite her showed herself. She stood up tall shaking her head. This was crazy, and yet it was something she’d been trained for. She grabbed a hold-all and made her way through to her walk-in wardrobe. She picked things out for practicality, jeans, a jumper, some shorts and vest tops, Wakanda’s climate being quite different to the mild spring in London. She looked over at her vanity, her grandmothers necklace still laid out from the night before. She slipped it into a jewellery case with some other select items. She wrote a quick note for her housekeeper, Samara, who was due later that day,

‘I’ll be away a few days, don’t worry, I’ll explain when I see you x’

She finished packing her bag and made her way back down the stairs, she could trust Samara to look after her home, but she still hated to leave it. She walked into the drawing room Bucky and Sam were both stood waiting for her. She smiled reassuringly at Bucky who winked at her as she came to his side drawing his hand into hers.

“We were thinking how to get to the airfield, I don’t feel like calling a cab, it could too easily be hijacked.” Sam started Nancy opened her mouth with a suggestion, but Sam cut her off, “Before you suggest it we aren’t taking the ‘tube’ either.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest that, the underground doesn’t go out that far.” Nancy smirked with raised eyebrows. “Actually, I was going to suggest we take my car.”

“You have a car, you didn’t think of mentioning it sooner?” Sam said rolling his eyes.

“Alright so we’ll take the car.” Bucky said smiling at her.

“Well actually, we’ll take the car,” she indicated to herself and Bucky, “it’s a two-seater.”

“Great I’ll fly above, make sure no one’s on your tail.” Sam sighed, Bucky’s smile grew wider. Bucky thought he heard Sam mutter about what kind of car only had 2 seats, this made him chuckle.

They made their way to the back of the house where a door led to the garage. Nancy left Samara’s note on the kitchen counter where they’d find it. Sam looked disapprovingly but Nancy insisted they can be trusted. Her car sat covered in the garage she carefully drew back the cover and Sam let out a low whistle. Nancy smiled stroking the blue chrome finish.

“Isn’t she a beauty,” she mused fondly.

“It’s a nice car.” Bucky nodded attempting enthusiasm.

“You even know what kind of car this is Buckaroo?” Sam asked a look of offence on his face. Bucky exhaled loudly,

“Yes, its, um, a two-seater.” Nancy busied herself filling the boot and left Sam to explain.

“It’s a Mas-er-ra-ti.” Sam said sounding out each syllable, “It’s not just a car.” Bucky nodded in response and made his way round to the driver side door.

“Oh no you don’t James Barnes. My car, my rules, I drive.” She dashed over, blocking his entrance to the car.

“Sweetheart- “

“No no no don’t sweetheart me, have you ever even driven a car in this country, this century at least?” Bucky held up his palms in surrender and made his way to the passenger side. Sam clapped his partner on the shoulder as he strode past, lowering his goggles.

“Shouldn’t be too hard to follow you, she’s not exactly subtle.” Indicating to the sports car.

“No, but she is fast, hope you can keep up.” Nancy grinned wickedly.

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

Getting out of London was simple enough, Nancy was comfortable enough on its busy congested roads. Driving with Bucky was a very different experience, he looked around constantly, watching every car that joined the road, looking out for anything close to suspicious. Nancy was calmer, driving was simple to her and when they hit the motorway she pushed the car into 6th gear.

“So, should we talk about how you’re about to meet my dad?” Nancy said brightly turning briefly towards Bucky.

“I hadn’t really thought about it.” This was true, with his whole priority getting her safely to Wakanda he hadn’t for a moment thought of the ambassador and what he might say or do to him should he find out. Nancy had been gracious in accepting him just as he was, past and all, somehow he thought no father would want their daughter to be bound by the fates to a 100-year-old ex-assassin. In fact, he was surprised every day how Nancy had managed to take it in her stride. It was simple to her, he wasn’t that man anymore, the winter solider wasn’t her soulmate, Bucky Barnes was. He found himself staring at her again, where others found it unnerving, Nancy never mentioned it, she caught him and smiled taking one hand off the wheel to squeeze his, holding it tightly for a moment.

“It’ll be fine, I’ll handle him, and he’ll understand, he’ll have to.” She kept her eyes on the road, she hadn’t a clue what her dad would say.

“Will he?” Bucky said quietly.

“I’m not letting you go.” She responded firmly.

Bucky felt a warmth wash over him, like sinking into a hot bath.

He then heard Sam’s voice in his ear,

‘’Two SUVs just joined at the last junction, they’ve been on your tail for the past couple of miles, could be nothing I’m gonna send redwing down, get a lay of the land.” Bucky relayed the information on to Nancy whilst looking out the back window, Nancy saw the two silver cars in her rear-view mirror. She saw a lorry in the left had lane behind her, she quickly darted out in front of it, the two SUVs carried on the lorry blocking them access to the middle lane. They overtook, one pulling in ahead of her. The other attempting to remain level, a BMW frantically flashing its headlight behind it.

“Sit back!” Bucky had his gun drawn pointing it at the driver’s side window, aiming at the second SUV.

“Don’t you dare hurt my car!” She shouted eyes darting left again before flying into the inside lane and up the slip road beyond. The two SUVs had no time to react and were pushed onwards in the throng of traffic.

“Please warn me before you do that.” Bucky said, shaking slightly from surprise. He looked around confused. “Where are we?”

“Not far off now, this is a couple of junctions too early, we’ll have to take the back roads, but that might actually be easier, now we know they’re following.”

“How are you so calm about this?” Bucky said, concerned at her blasé attitude.

“Compartmentalisation. My parent’s divorce, Kit’s death, the blip and now this. I just have to focus on one thing at a time.” She said taking a turn off the roundabout, this led them down a side road. Bucky explained the new plan to Sam who then, reluctantly, gave up following the two SUVs. “I’ve been seeing a therapist since I was 10, she says I do it too much, pack everything into boxes and leave them up there.” She tapped her temple, “I don’t even notice I’m doing it anymore.” Bucky watched her, a question burning on his tongue, what happened when you were ten, he didn’t ask it, another time he thought. It was as if she read his mind though,

“It’s nothing close to what you’ve been through of course, I mean I should be asking how you’re so calm.” She laughed almost half-heartedly.

“You think this is calm? I had a good therapist, and then there’s you, you help a lot.”

“I do?” Nancy said noticeably touched.

“Like my very own guardian angel.” He winked at her.

“Bucky...” Nancy started no clue where her sentence was going. Her skin lit up with goose bumps under his gaze. She felt tears prick at her eyes.

“It’s okay, we’re in this together now.” He curled a stray strand of hair between his fingers. The sunlight streaming through the wind screen lit up the copper tones turning her hair into a mane of shining metallic.

“I want to know who these people are Bucky, I want to stop them.” She said defiantly.

“I’ll stop them, I won’t stop until you’re safe. Katima said they wanted to ransom you for information and co-operation from your father.” Bucky explained.

“You spoke to Katima?” She sounded surprised.

“Yeah, she sent us to rescue you, I didn’t realise you knew anyone from Wakanda.” He said apologetically.

“She’s my dad’s girlfriend, that sounds so weird, she’s his partner, she’s lovely.”

“She did seem worried about you.” Bucky said.

“Dads’ going to be frantic.” She sighed.

“Maybe we should leave telling him about us for a while?” He suggested dryly, this made Nancy smile.

“Don’t chicken out on me Barnes.” She smirked, “He’ll only be more annoyed the longer we leave it.”

“That does not fill me with confidence.” He laughed lightly. They drove quietly down the twisting road. As they neared the airfield Sam dove down flying alongside their car. The gates granted them access on the first sight of Sam, they made their way up to where Torres was sat on the steps waving to them. Nancy tossed her keys to the nearest member of ground crew.

“Please look after her, I expect her back in one piece.” The man looked as though all his Christmases had come at once, his mouth gaping at the Maserati. Bucky took Nancy hand as they walked towards the jet. Sam was already aboard, hanging out the military jet.

Before they could reach the stairs a loud gun shot fired behind them. Bucky instinctively spun round pushing Nancy behind him, a man stood all in black, skin milky white, he could have been 30 or fifty, a cloud of dark hair surrounded his head.

“Give me the girl!” He shouted, voice clear and calm.

“Not a chance!” Bucky called back, his own gun drawn “get to Sam now,” he hissed behind to Nancy, she didn’t move a muscle.

“Nancy, come with me.” The man continued. Nancy stood defiantly, feet routed to the spot.

“Go now,” Bucky said louder this time. More mean appeared now, each wearing the same masks as the men from the night before. They appeared from the same silver SUVs as they’d encountered on the motorway. The men held up arms against the military personnel of the airfield.

“Christopher is alive!” The man shouted. Nancy’s composure broke.

“Liar!” She came out from behind Bucky and stared the man down. Bucky reached out catching her arm in his metal one.

“I’ll take you to him.” The man continued.

“Nancy,” Bucky started, she looked over her shoulder and smiled. From above their heads Sam swooped down, the intruders so focussed on Nancy they hadn’t been watching Sam. He gripped the black hair man by the shoulders and shot straight up in the air. His men followed them with their eyes. The brief distraction allowed the soldiers to overpower the masked men. Nancy ran up the stairs, Bucky helped her up into the jet, Torres was already initiating take off. Bucky brought her over to the bench, strapping her in securely. He knelt in front of her. Her head hung to her chest.

���Nancy, I’m so sorry,” he muttered, cupping her face in his flesh hand.

“It’s not your fault, that bloody bastard!” She shouted, Bucky saw Torres jolt at her outburst from the cockpit.

“Any chance he was telling the truth?” Bucky asked quietly, Nancy shook her head.

“Kits’ dead, he’s not coming back.” She ran her hands over her scraped back hair. Bucky raised himself onto the seat next to her.

“You should have gone when I told you to.” He Sid quietly taking her hand and running his thumb over her knuckles.

“I wasn’t going to leave you there. All alone.” Shook his head smiling, gently drawing her hand to his face and kissing her fingers. Nancy freed her hand from his grasp and cupped his cheek. “I’m not going to leave your side.” She whispered. He lowered his forehead to hers, closing his eyes.

Sam entered the jet with a bang as he landed on the metal floor. The couple jumped apart quickly.

“I’m sorry, were you two having a moment?” He jested, raising his eyebrows at the pair. He closed the jet’s side door and they all felt Torres increase the planes’ altitude.

[takenbyheartstrings]

LITTLE THINGS | peter parker x stark!reader

R E Q U E S T : can i request for prompt 26? peter parker x stark!reader? nick fury wanted to recruit them to form the new avengers, reader was a bit hesitant but eventually gave in. oh and pls add fluff to her & peter. thank u luv! <3 ( @barnes-parker ) P R O M P T : ❝ if and when you have the answer... let me know. ❞ W A R N I N G S : swearing, fluff, the tiniest bit of angst.

A U T H O R S   N O T E : i’m trying to write all the requests i never wrote... ahaha 😔, i actually tried writing this one a couple times, but, i never got to it because everything just happened with school and stuff, but now, school’s almost over for a couple weeks and THESE REQUESTS ARE GETTING DONE.... sorry! but like, also, Far From Home came out, so there’s a plus side to all my Peter requests 👀

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

You and Peter were sat in Happy’s jet straight out of a flower field. You both had cuts and bruises all over your body. The pink and white suit you usually wore was in the bathroom and you were now in a pair of jeans, and a t-shirt.

You could see the look on Peter’s face, like he’d failed someone... failed you. Failed MJ. Failed Ned. Failed Happy. Failed Pepper.

Failed your father.

He knew he should’ve seen it coming, but you were both too amazed by the fact the multi-verse theory was real... better yet, that he came from there to finally help you. Never did it cross your mind he could be evil, but they always wear disguises good enough to fool even Nick Fury.

You were sat sitting in a seat. Far away from Happy, far away from Peter. Your headphones plugged into your phone as you re-listened to the voicemail Fury had left you a couple months ago.

“Hey, Little Stark. I hope you’re doing alright-” Fury stopped himself for a slight moment, “But that’s not the reason I called. I called to let you know we’re in need for a few new Avengers and you and that Spider-Kid make quite the team. You don’t need to give me an answer now, but, if and when you have the answer... let me know.”

and that’s when the line cut short. You thought about it. What would happen if you and Peter never accepted the offer. You’d be in Paris onto of the Eiffel Tower, hopefully, telling Peter how you felt. But it all got hijacked because of him. Because of Mysterio; Quentin Beck, and it bothered you.

You felt a presence behind you. Peter. He took a seat beside you, taking your hand in his. He noticed the voicemail tab on your phone screen and a gloomed look fell upon his face.

You pulled out an earplug as he gave a soft smile- you could tell he was smiling through the pain. The sadness, but he was smiling for you.

“Don’t dwell on the past.” Peter told you, “There’s nothing to worry about anymore... We’re gonna stop him. I can feel it. Wether it’s with Nick Fury or not.”

“Yeah... I know- I just-” You stopped yourself for a good moment before opening your mouth once more letting the words roll off your tongue. “I just wonder what it would be like if we never took him up. On his offer. You ever think about that? We could’ve been in Paris right now, but we’re stuck in a jet, in the middle of a flower field, trying to stop someone that’s been hunting my father down for years.”

Peter laughed taking your hand, “I think we all wondered what it would’ve been like... I mean, who wants to stop a villain on a holiday?!” Peter questioned trying to make it seem happier than it actually was.

“Peter, you don’t have to pretend to be happy for me.” You said as his smile fell.

“If I don’t who’s gonna make you laugh and smile when you need it most?”

“Peter- I-” You cut yourself short once more as you took your chance and leaned in to match your lips with Peter’s.

They were soft- Like clouds that float around in the sky, or pillows in a really nice 5 star hotel. You felt him tense up in surprise at first. But soon he melted into it and kissed you back.

You pulled away biting your lip slightly as a smile overtook your face.

“I was gonna- I was gonna ask you out in Paris.” Peter told you, he pulled a small box out of his pocket, “It’s a small necklace, it’s got a little pink flower on it because I know cherry blossom’s are your favourite and I know that you like all that stuff and I was worried it was gonna break before I gave it to you, but it’s not so-”

“Peter. It’s beautiful.” You cut his rambling off, as he helped you place it on your neck. “Thank you,”

“I was gonna say thank you to your dad for helping me get it, it was the last one of it in the whole world, and he told me to take care of it and never let it go, and I was gonna give it to you on your birthday... five years go... but then everything with Thanos happened and yeah.”

“So, you got my dad’s permission before buying this?”

“Basically, yeah.”

You laughed with a small smile tears welling up in your eyes as his smile was genuine and yours was too, he went through all this trouble for you, and your father actually liked one of the boys who tried to ask you out. That just made everything better than it was.

[fullmetalscullyy]

a conspiracy theory - chapter 11

co-written by @snowdog49 and @jeanhaavoc

summary:  Detective Roy takes on a challenging task… To find Olivier Armstrong’s sword. However, he has a beautiful woman to distract him along the way. Will he, Jean, and Ed be able to find the sword in time, or will they succumb to the conspiracy?

warning: graphic depictions of violence

tags: conspiracy, pining, unresolved sexual tension, private detective au, royai, havolina, mystery, violence, modern au, coffee shops

rated: m | words: 4206

read on ao3

Jean was sitting at his desk, feet up on it, throwing a foam baseball at the ceiling and catching it. It was a habit that drove Rebecca up a wall, but she was at a lunch with her parents, so it was driving Roy insane instead. The room felt empty if anything. Ed was gone as well, doing something with Alphonse, his younger brother, but should have been back minutes ago. Roy tapped his pen against the desk to a tune stuck in his head and bit his lip. The last 24 hours have been overwhelming. Now that he had answers he needed action. 

“You’re trying to impress your girl,” Jean snickered from his seat, tossing the ball in the air again. “Save the Day Roy. We can call you that from now on to make you her hero.” 

Roy didn’t respond, only tapped his pen faster against his desk. “I’m one answer away from a breakthrough. I can feel it.” 

“So King Bradley has the sword,” Jean grabbed the ball, squeezing around it as he turned to Roy. “Now we have to get it out and deliver it back to Olivier. That’s easy right?” 

Roy hummed as he thought. 

“I can break into the office at night.” 

He groaned loudly. “Really? After I told Edward to play it legal?” 

His blonde co-worker laughed loudly. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” 

Roy grunted. 

“What did Riza say? King Bradley is bribing Raven?” 

Roy nodded. 

“Let Edward be the whistleblower that he feels he was destined to be. That can stop this ‘hitman’ business right?” 

“I should,” Roy snorted. “But the attention would get to the Armstrongs,” he sighed. “Like Ed said, they stay out of the media's eye. I think they want to keep it that way.” 

Jean nodded and went back to throwing the ball to the ceiling. “Have we even done a proper search through the system on this Kimblee guy?” 

Roy nodded as he tossed his pen on his desk. “I ran him through the system. He’s been in trouble with the law a few times. Apparently he beat the shit out of a guy.” 

“Nice,” Jean mumbled sarcastically.

Roy laughed in a cough. “He has a residence outside South City and one here in Central.” Roy leaned over on his computer and clicked a few times to bring up the report he had run. “He doesn’t have a good job history. It says he’s self employed. He was in the military for a few years. Our system wouldn’t access the military records and the process to get those records would take us weeks. But he hasn’t kept a job for more than two years and that was before he went to jail.” 

“He’s a hitman,” Jean quickly concluded. 

“I believe Riza… Or I believe her assumption.” 

“But she said he’s on the books?” 

Roy nodded. “And there’s no explanation to it.” 

Jean nodded. “What? Are you afraid of him?” 

Roy shook his head as he glanced at his shoulder holster hanging on the coat hanger by the door. He leaned back in his seat and rolled his sleeves up. 

“Roy,” Jean sat up and turned to him. “You know that I’m behind you 100%, right?” 

Roy nodded. “I’m not afraid of him. I just think that this has to be done carefully.” 

“You should ask for more money,” Jean laughed. 

“I’m tempted to, but she’s already sent me an email today asking me if I’ve found it.” 

“Damn.” 

The two looked up at the door as Ed walked in. “What,” he asked. 

Roy grinned as an idea donned on him. “I was thinking… We need to figure out how deep Raven is in all this…” 

Jean raised his eyebrow. 

“I wonder if Raven has hired this hitman too.” 

“Hitman?” Ed asked with a big grin as he walked through the door. “Everytime I come into this office it gets better and better!” 

“Ed,” Roy reached back to pull his wallet from his pocket. “Get that software update.” He tossed his credit card to his desk. “I need you to hack into Raven and Bradley’s accounting systems and tell me if they’re paying someone.” 

“I need more information than that. Do you have a banking account number?” It was like seeing a kid walk into a candy shop for the first time. Jean and Roy had never seen Ed move so fast as to buy the update of his hacking software. 

Roy groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “I can get Riza to give it to me,” he mumbled. 

“If you can,” Ed said as he typed away. “That’d help. Until then, I can see what I can find.” 

“If this is how you motivate, Ed, we should do this more often,” Jean laughed. 

It made Roy’s stomach curl as he thought about it. 

“So, who’s this hitman out to kill?” Ed tossed the card back to Roy. 

“I think Senator Marcoh,” Roy answered slowly. 

“No shit,” Ed’s eyes grew. “I told you they were corrupt.” 

“If he’s the only one maintaining any opposition to Bradley’s further success, it makes total sense,” Roy leaned back in his chair. 

Ed stopped typing and sat up straight. “Wait! They’re all part of the Gatekeepers!” 

Jean and Roy looked at each other. 

“If this guy needs the sword for a membership, what do you want to bet they’re going to have this guy kill him at the member’s party?” 

Jean nodded quickly. “Yeah! The assassin can get him in a private space and no one will know who did it.” 

“It’s perfect,” Ed exclaimed. 

Roy looked at the two as if they were geniuses. “The people at the building could all deny it,” he said carefully. “They’d all have alibis because they were all together when it happened.” He pointed to Jean and then to Edward. “It’d be perfect.” 

Jean nodded quickly. “That means we have to get the sword by the next meeting.” 

“When I talked to Ling, he said it was this Saturday.” 

“It’s Thursday.” Roy looked at his watch. “Thursday afternoon.” 

“Time is against us,” Jean admitted, though it was already known. 

Roy nodded to Ed. “You better get on that.” 

“Aye, Captain,” Ed grinned as he turned all his attention to his computer. 

Roy turned back to Jean. “I’m sure that the whole building is rigged with security sensors. Breaking into the building will not work.” 

“Hey!” Ed’s head popped up. “You told me I had to do things legal? And you’re going to break into a building?” 

“Shut up,” Roy grumped as he turned towards him. “Continue on your illegal hacking or I will take it away.” 

Just like that, Ed went back to his computer. 

“So, we need to get into Bradley’s office without being seen,” Jean crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat. He grinned a toothy grin as he got an idea. Roy had seen this look before and it scared him on some level. “You have someone in the office as it is, Roy.” 

“I can’t ask Riza to get it. It’s not only going to risk her job, but what if Bradley has her killed?” 

“Seriously,” Ed’s head popped up. “How deep are we into this?” 

Roy didn’t look at him. He just pointed at him and his computer. 

“No,” Jean shook his head. “She can either distract him, or we can, and get the sword out.” 

Roy snickered. “I have a wild idea.” 

“I like wild ideas,” Jean rubbed his hands together. 

*           *           *

Roy stood up and stretched. Looking up at the clock he saw that he had two hours to go home and shower before meeting Riza for dinner. He’d called and told her he had a plan and asked her to meet with him. It made him more excited to see her. 

His body was sluggish after being stuck in his desk chair all afternoon. He’d been trying to rack his brain for more dots to connect but had come up blank. The case had gone on too long, and what had just been discovered and theorized was too much. It was a waiting game now until Ed found what he was looking for in the accounts. The kid had been practically bouncing with glee, so when Roy bid them farewell for the day, he wasn’t surprised to hear Ed was going to remain at the office and do some extra work with the accounts. It wasn’t very often that Ed stayed longer than his shift, but the excitement was one of a kind. 

Despite his fatigue, Roy was looking forward to dinner. Strangely enough, he was able to convince her to go to dinner with him. Due to the conspiracy and security, Roy had suggested his house as a joke, but she was serious when she said yes. It was a safe place to review and converse on the plan tomorrow. Even though he was primarily doing it to share the plan with her, it was still dinner with Riza. After he’d interviewed her, he was desperate to talk to her some more about it. During her interview she’d been nervous about it all, and most of all, he just wanted to make sure they were alright.

Even after they’d discussed Bradley and his hitman, it wasn’t lost on Roy how he’d managed to find himself lost in her eyes. As his mind threatened to run away with him, desperately trying to reach a conclusion, he just had to look upon her face to calm himself down. After all, it was still spending time with her, and he wanted to savour every minute. What had started out as a simple coffee shop flirtation had ended up in her being dragged into his work. And yet, his emotions threatened to break him from the job. If she was now involved, he’d separate the two of them, submerging himself in only Riza, to be mentally with her 100%. Now it was complicated, and Roy hated it. 

As he slid into the driver’s side of the car, Roy grimaced. Work seemed to always be interrupting their dates. He’d hijacked their last one and managed to convince her to come to the office, where she’d been overwhelmed by his insistence. He’d seen it in her eyes. Even if she’d been eager to help, it still didn’t sit well with him. He hadn’t been very considerate. As his shoulders drooped, Roy hoped that didn’t work against his favour in the long run. He vowed to himself that on the third date, a real third date, if she wasn’t sick of him by then, there would be nothing work related mentioned at all. 

Stepping inside his apartment Roy hooked his keys on the wall by the door. His jacket followed soon afterwards then he stepped inside his living area.

He sighed loudly through his mouth. He had a lot of tidying to do. There were papers everywhere. Some were from finished cases that were all piled together, but he just kept putting off actually filing them somewhere. They shouldn’t even be in his apartment, they should be filed at the office, but he hadn’t gotten round to sorting through them yet. Picking up the pile from his coffee table, Roy carried them through to his home office. On his way back through he grabbed the dirty socks he’d kicked off the night before and tossed them in his washing basket. He couldn’t have Riza round for dinner and have his dirty clothes lying out.

It didn’t take him long to find some kind of order inside his home, and Roy quickly jumped into the shower with half an hour to spare. They were just ordering food in tonight since it was such short notice. He would have loved to cook for Riza, have her criticize it with her cooking knowledge, but he barely had any food in his fridge anyway, and had no time to prepare and make anything. She’d said she didn’t mind, but as the water poured over Roy’s head, he pouted. He should’ve been more prepared.

“Should spend less time at the office,” he muttered to himself, turning the water off with force. “Then you’d actually have food in the house.”

He’d chosen to go with smart attire for the night. He didn’t need it to be fancy, and didn’t expect Riza to dress up, but still, Roy wanted to make an effort for her. He donned black slacks and a white shirt, which he buttoned up to his neck. He chose not to go for a tie, as he didn’t want the end of it to be accidentally dipped into his food. Dabbing aftershave on his neck, he observed himself critically in the mirror. 

His hair was getting too long. It needed a cut. He puffed air out of his mouth, shifting his fringe out the way of his eyes. His styling gel caught his eye, and Roy stared at it for a second. He could slick his hair back… He grinned to himself.

Riza knocked on his door at that moment, and in his excitement, he forgot about his hair gel. As he walked to greet her he forced himself not to lunge for the handle. His palms were sweaty and he rubbed them against his pants before reaching for the door. His throat felt dry and he didn’t know what to say… As if he’d never talked to a girl before. No other girl had done this to him. No other girl had actually taken his breath, taken his word, and left him to gawk like a fourteen-year-old boy. He cleared his throat, standing up straight, and turned the handle.  

There she stood in the doorway, looking down the hall so only her side profile was on show to him. Roy noted the way her long hair tumbled both down her back and over her shoulder. Her fringe partially obscured her whisky eyes from his view, but that quickly changed as she turned to face him. A soft smile graced her lips and her expression softened. He didn’t miss the way she gave him a quick once over, and lingered on his face for a moment longer as her mouth parted only slightly.

As he set his eyes upon her mouth and noticed her reaction, the memory of their ‘almost kiss’ crept upon him suddenly…

Surprisingly, she’d dressed up more than he’d expected. It made him feel less self-conscious knowing that she’d thought the same way he did. She was wearing a flowing beige skirt that brushed her ankles and shifted as her hips moved. Her white blouse looked light, with the sleeves puffing out slightly, before cinching at the wrists. The neckline was open, exposing the skin of her throat, with her elegant neck on show. 

Roy swallowed thickly and tried to remember how to breathe.

“Hello, Roy.”

“Riza,” he smiled brightly at her. He tightened his grip on the door handle. “Hi.”

*           *           *

Roy leaned on his dining table in his home while Riza giggled. “I love this plan. It’s kind of… wild.” The excitement was clear in her eyes. “Do you go on crazy adventures like this often?”

“Only once a month,” Roy quipped.

She snorted and shook her head fondly.

“I’m not even sure it’s going to work. If it doesn’t, we are all in for a world of hurt.” His tone took on a more serious note, but he had a sheepish grin on his face. 

She leaned close to him, her hand on his. Roy stopped breathing as he felt the softness in her touch. “I hope that you’ll be able to protect yourself. Solf has been at the office lately. He’s been in and out of all the offices.” 

Roy coughed quietly, trying to focus his mind on the topic and less on the aching feeling to grab her face and pull her into a passionate kiss. “I’ll be fine,” he assured. 

“Good…” She opened her mouth to add something else, but decided against it. “Good. You better be,” she teased.

“Oh, yeah?” Roy smirked. “Is that a threat?”

“It can if you want it to be,” she shrugged carelessly with a coy smile, but Roy noted the look in her eyes. There was real concern there for him.

“I promise, I’ll do my best. Just for you.”

“Just for me?” she asked. He noticed an increased pressure on the back of his hand from her fingertips. Whether it was her subconscious or not, Roy didn’t really care. He couldn’t spare brain power for much else, all he could focus on was how soft her hands were. “That’s quite a claim.” Her voice had dropped lower, to a murmur, along with her gaze.

Roy followed her eyes, noticing that she was looking at the back of her hand, resting atop his. “Is it a problem if I make that claim?” His question was sincere.

Slowly, Roy flipped his hand over, moving it to grasp her fingers instead. His smile was easy, but he felt like his hands would start shaking at any moment. He held his breath as he lifted her hand to her lips, kissing the back of it.

Riza just stared at him as he moved as he ran his thumb over her knuckles.

Her cheeks were pink and she glanced away for a second, withdrawing her hand from his. She looked slightly embarrassed and Roy had to hold back a chuckle that he could get that kind of response from her. 

“I don’t know…” She trailed off as she continued to look away from him with a blush. But then that worried look was back on her face, the same one he’d seen in his office.

“Are you worried about your part in all of this?”  He tilted his head with concern.

“I’m worried about Kimblee. Not just for you, but…” She took a deep breath and exhaled sharply.

“You said he’s been in and out of the offices. Has he approached you at all?”

She shook her head. Her spine straightened and she rolled her shoulders back. “No. He has no real reason to until…”

“Until something happens.”

Riza nodded, glancing over at him. “I… I do trust you, Roy, with this. That’s why I came to you. You seem like a good person and after meeting Rebecca the other day, I felt more confident in sharing the information with you all.”

“I’m glad. And I mean it about calling us anytime. We’re professionals, and we’ll offer you protection if you need it.”

“That’s good to hear.” A tiny smile crossed her face and she looked relieved. “I don’t think it will come to that, but… This is way bigger than I thought it would be.” She shifted in her seat uncomfortably. “If I’d known what was really going on I would never have worked for Bradley in the first place. I mean,” she chuckled in disbelief, “I just ignored the fact that a hitman is on Bradley’s books, and hid the evidence.” She sat back in her seat, her posture screaming defeat. “And I still have to dismiss it.”

“But it’s to protect yourself,” Roy urged. “Don’t bring it up and don’t question it. Just do as Bradley says and don’t draw attention to yourself. We’ll sort out the rest,” he reminded her. “Just keep yourself safe. That’s the most important thing.” Roy swallowed. “That’s very important to me.”

Her eyes locked with his and Riza sat forward in her chair. At the same time, Roy straightened. She kept leaning forward, but at a slower pace, as Roy lifted his free hand, bringing his palm to cup her cheek. She inhaled sharply. His fingers slid into the hair behind her ear, and he marvelled at how silky smooth it felt. Lifting her hand, Riza hung on tightly to the forearm by her face. Licking her lips in anticipation, her eyes dropped to Roy’s own.

They were less than an inch away before they were jolted apart. Roy let out a frustrated sigh as his phone buzzed, the ringtone sounding loudly in his apartment. Riza pulled away with a sympathetic look, but she did squeeze his wrist. That was a comfort at least.

Removing his hand from her neck, he cursed every piece of technology on the planet as he fished his phone out of his pocket. 

“Edward,” Roy greeted in a tone that told the teenager that this better be good.

“You are not going to believe what I’ve found tonight,” he cackled happily to himself.

“What have you got?” His tone was dejected. He glanced at Riza then placed the phone down on the table between them, putting Ed on speaker.

“Bradley is a dodgy dude!” he sang cheerily. The kid sounded like he was on cloud nine. “And is definitely working with Raven. Our dear Senator’s personal accounts show large sums of money being transferred from a certain Mr. Bradley. He’s definitely bribing him.”

“Edward’s right, Roy,” he heard Rebecca call out. She was still at the office? “We’ve been going through it all and there’s definitely been some shady deals going down.”

“There’s so much money that’s been moved over the last few months,” Jean’s voice sounded, “and I’m talking six figure sums, not just chump change. This is serious, and I think it’s what we’ve been looking for.”

“You’re all still there?” Roy asked.

“There’s been a lot to go through, and it's been exciting!” Rebecca called.

Roy glanced over at Riza. “See anything about an assassin?”

“Can’t see anything like that. There’s so many big figures though, that it could be any one of them. Did you know the Police Chief is being paid off too? A lot of effort to go through, especially for a reputable business like Bradley’s and such a well loved public figure like Raven.”

Roy snorted at Ed’s sarcasm.

“The accounts are easy to track though, if they’re public. It will take some time but I’ll be able to manage it. There will be a pattern somewhere.” Edward snickered. “I doubt they’ll miss the money if we want to have some fun. I could very easily move some money around so we could replace that damn 3D printer.”

“You will do no such thing,” Roy scolded through the phone, leaning forwards, as if it would increase the force of his words. Riza laughed quietly beside him. “It’s bad enough you're even looking at those accounts.”

He was quickly dismissed. “Stop worrying. You’ll end with another grey hair in that shaggy mane of yours.”

Roy grit his teeth tightly together. “Goodbye, Edward. Go home and get some sleep. We all know how cranky children get when they don’t get enough sleep.” He hit the end call button as soon as he heard Edward’s outrage beginning.

“That was childish,” Riza giggled.

“Serves him right for the grey hair comment,” Roy scowled at his phone.

“I can’t see any,” she stated softly. Roy turned his head to face her sharply, noting how she was looking at his hair. Roy only then realised he’d forgotten to actually slick his hair back. “I think you’re good,” she smiled. “Plus, that hairstyle is a nice look on you.”

“Were you pleasantly surprised when you first met me?”

“In more ways than just one,” she replied, winking at him. She stood from her chair and Roy felt his shoulder slump slightly, knowing what was coming. “I should get going,” Riza murmured.

“Okay,” Roy nodded, not letting his disappointment show. “Of course. I can walk you home, if you like?”

Riza shook her head. “You’re sweet, but I’ll be fine. I’ve got my car.”

“Text me when you get home? Just so I know you got back safe.”

“I will.” She smiled and reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze. “Thank you for tonight, Roy. Although it was talking shop… I still had a lot of fun.”

“Really?” Her eyebrows raised in amusement at his surprised tone. “I mean, you did?” He couldn't quite hide how earnest he sounded.

“It’s very interesting watching you work.” Riza cocked her head to the side, regarding him. “You can be very intense.”

“I hope that’s not a bad thing,” he laughed nervously.

“Not at all,” she reassured him. “Just shows you’re passionate.”

“Good. And I promise that on the next date there will be no talking shop. Once is okay, but every time we’ve met up I feel like I always manage to steer the conversation that way.”

“You’re in love with your job, Roy, I get it,” she smirked with a mischievous smile. “I can take coming in second place. Just for you, though,” she winked.

“I’m not… I mean, I wouldn’t -”

“Goodnight, Roy.” A placating hand was pressed to his bicep in farewell, cutting off his stammered speech. “And thank you for everything. I mean it. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He swallowed, opening his mouth to reply, but was rendered mute and frozen in place as Riza leaned up to peck his cheek. She just smiled at him as she walked away, leaving him staring, dumbfounded, after her.

[idonthaveanaccent]

Isaac Takes the Mic

So this is the first part of the wattpad exclusive content I made, and it’s in the humans POV! I took everyone’s favorite, Isaac, and gave him the reigns for this part! I wonder what wacky things he’ll get into?

Isaac frowned as he unscrewed the panel. He shifted his body into the narrow hole, and turned on a flashlight. He stuck it in his mouth and began tightening one of the mobs that had come loose.

He could hear Grudge tapping a wrench against the ground. It made for good ambience, but was overall annoying. He sighed, shifting a bit more to keep his body from locking.

It's too tight in here.

"Thank you kindly, Browne. You've been a mighty fine help 'round here." Grudge suddenly cut in.

Isaac rolled his eyes before taking the flashlight out of his mouth. "Compliment me all you want later, but right now I gotta focus, otherwise the pipes will burst. We'd be screwed if that were to happen."

Grudge brushed him off with some strange noise, but didn't say anything else. Isaac sighed as he tightened the knob until it moved no more. "Done. Now, pull me out. Slowly, please. We don't want a repeat of what happened last time."

The last time Grudge had helped Isaac out of a narrow place, he ended up miscalculating how much he weighed and checking him across the room. Isaac had to go to the infirmary. It was okay though, he got to have Quinn at his beck and call. He smiled at the memory of her hitting him for making her cool his meals. It was beautiful.

He loved to make her scream.

Any dirty thoughts he had were pushed out of his head when Grudge yanked him out of the narrow tunnel, sending him flying about three feet. He hit the ground. Pain flared up in his rib cage. Isaac wheezed as he sat up. "Warn a guy next time!"

Grudge clicked his tongue. It was his way of laughing, he had discovered. Isaac narrowed his eyes at his friend. "Shut up now. Since I did the fixing and you also threw me, you get to clean up. I'm going to go get some ice and chow."

His friend laughed again, nodding at him. "Alright then, little guy. I'll see you in about an hour or two."

"Make it three." Isaac said as he ran out. Now, he didn't have to hear Grudge tell him no. He had three hours all to himself!

Isaac sighed as he sat in the cafeteria. He had a bag of ice wrapped around his torso. A bruise had already begun to form. At least he wasn't in a cast. He took a bite of his sub sandwich, enjoying the delicious mix of flavors that coated his mouth.

Lovely. Like a mini orgasm in my mouth.

Someone sat down next to Isaac. He glanced to the side and smiled. Sitting there was Quinn. She smiled sweetly at him. "Hey. You have some grease right here." She brushed her thumb across his cheek. When she pulled it back he saw a blob of black coating it. Quinn reached for his napkin.

Isaac quickly grabbed it and stuffed it down the front of his pants. Quinn huffed, looking at him. "Isaac!"

"You're gonna have to get it to use it." He said, a cheeky grin filling his face. There's no way she'd—

Isaac gasped as she shoved her hand down his pants. His body went numb as she grabbed the napkin and pulled it out. "Thank you, Sweetie." Quinn said as she wiped her thumb. "By the way, you're gonna want to take care of that." She looked down. Isaac didn't need her to tell him.

His face flushed, but he quickly shook it away. He leaned towards her, his breath fanning her face. "Why don't you help me, love?"

Quinn's eyes darkened. However, she gently pushed him back. "I'd love to, but I can't. Not today."

"Why not? What's wrong?"

His girlfriend frowned. "Isaac, did you forget—?"

Suddenly, Sil'keen ran in. Her eyes were wide and her hair raised. She looked around before her eyes met Isaac's. She ran towards him. "Mister Browne! Mister Browne!"

"Sil'keen! What is it?"

"You have visitors— a Jacqueline and Leonardo?"

Isaac's face paled. He glanced at Quinn, his food, and then his crotch. "Shit!”

Isaac scampered around his room. He hurriedly threw clothes into the closet— dirty or otherwise. Quinn stood at the doorway, a graceful smirk present on her face. Isaac scowled at her. "The least you can do is help me after that stunt you pulled."

"You shoved the napkin down your pants and challenged me. It's your fault."

"You've left me with blue balls! What will they think of that, huh? This is the first time you're meeting them, do you really want me to tell them about this?"

Quinn chuckled. "I'll tell them you challenged me, and forgot completely that you invited them."

"Jacqueline invited herself wherever she wants to go. You must understand that. Leonardo probably heard she was hijacking the shop and jumped at the chance. Frigging criminals." Isaac muttered as he adjusted his pants yet again.

His girlfriends sighed before walking forward. "Jenny and Fred are walking them over here. They'll be here soon. As much as I want to help you with your situation, I'd prefer they not have the potentiality of walking in on something that is quite personal. I'm sure you wouldn't want anyone to see that either, right?"

Isaac nodded, jealously filling his body. He grabbed a hold of her arms and pressed a hard kiss against her lips. "Alright, but promise me that later you'll finish what you started."

Quinn nodded, her eyes wide. "Deal."

Isaac pressed one last kiss on the corner of her mouth before continuing his desperate attempts at making their room presentable. As he picked up one of his dirty boxers, the sound of the door opening was heard. His eyes widened as he chucked it into the closet and pressed the button to close it madly. Just as it shut, the door opened.

Fred and Jenny walked in. Jenny laughed at something, and after her walked in a man. He was tall and bulky. Dark hair laid atop his head, with the sides shaved down. He ran a hand through his longer hair, allowing the curls to fall over his forehead. His dark eyes were like voids as they drank in Jenny's appearance. His skin was tan, pretty much the exact same tone as Isaac's. He wore a fitted black tank top and gray jeans. The shirt was tucked neatly under the jeans. His combat boots were laced up, but could easily be unlaced to look even more angsty. Isaac rolled his eyes.

Behind the man was a tall woman. Her dark hair was tied up into a braid that fell down her back. She had natural makeup on, though the eyeshadow and fake lashes looked heavy upon her eyes. Her lips were pursed as she eyed Jenny. Her eyes were a lighter shade, more of a caramel brown. Her skin was also a little lighter in comparison to the man and Isaac's skin tone. She wore a light blue dress that accentuated her curves. A black belt was tied around her waist, making it look trimmer and giving her more of an hourglass figure. Tall pumps made her taller than the man in front of her.

Isaac sighed. Fred looked at him and grinned. "Hey, Isaac! We brought your siblings here."

Jenny nodded. "They're really nice, unlike you."

"Ha ha, very funny, Jennifer."

The red head scowled at him. "Come on then, Freddie." She grabbed the poor blond's arm and yanked him out. Fred managed to say a goodbye as he was pulled into the hallway. The door closed behind them.

The man chuckled before looking at Isaac. "Hello there, brother. You haven't changed. Always chasing away girls, huh?"

Isaac rolled his eyes. "I saw you eyeing her, Leo."

Leo laughed. "Who wouldn't? She's a fine lady, that's for sure. Surprised you haven't tapped that, brother."

The woman rolled her eyes before shoving Leo. "Back off, brother. Leave the poor girl on her own."

"You're only saying that because you want her too, Jackie."

Jacqueline sighed, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of her eyes. "Who doesn't want that lovely little lady?"

"Fred, Mason, Me, Zellnor, Grudge, Tilorian—"

"Okay, we get it. But we want her, and that's what matters." Leo said, narrowing his eyes at Isaac.

"Whatever."

Quinn walked up. "Care to introduce me, Isaac?"

"Right! This is Quinn."

Jacqueline looked her up and down. A smile graced her face. "Hey there, sweet heart! My name's Jacqueline. I'm this one's older sister!"

Leo pushed in. "Name's Leonardo. You can call me if you ever want to have a good time." He winked. He had the audacity to wink.

Isaac scowled. He opened his mouth to say something when Quinn gently pushed passed him. "My apologies, Leonardo. But, I'm in a committed relationship."

"He doesn't have to know."

Quinn chuckled as she looked him up and down. Then, she met his eyes. She gently pulled him down and pressed her lips to his ears. Leo looked incredibly happy. "In your dreams, asshole."

She pushed him back. Leo's eyes went wide as he registered her words. Jacqueline smirked, clearly pleased with what just transpired. Isaac laughed as he hooked an arm around his girlfriend. "That's how you do it, baby."

Quinn chuckled before pressing a kiss to Isaac's lips. Leo frowned. "So you managed to snag this chick? I didn't know you had it in you, brother."

"To be fair, I snagged him." Quinn joked, pulling him against her. Isaac laughed as he kissed the side of her head. "We have a lot to talk about, it seems."

"That we do, brother. That we do." Jacqueline said, sitting down.

Isaac sat down in the cafeteria as his siblings gobbled down the food Micheele had cooked for them. Isaac sighed contentedly as Quinn held his hand. They typically held hands while they were eating. It just felt right to do it.

He squeezed her hand, which she squeezed right back. They fit together like puzzle pieces, which he loved.

He was cut out of his loving thoughts when Leo began to speak. "So, you're like a repairman aboard here, right?"

"Yes. I fix different parts of the ship that Grudge can't fix."

"Who's Grudge? They sound hot." Jacqueline said, grinning. Isaac had no idea if she was kidding or not.

"Grudge is a Harsivian. They look kind of like Drax mixed with Thanos." Isaac said, taking a bite of his food.

Leo frowned. "Is he purple?"

"No, he's still gray. He just has a longer face. He does have a lot of tattoos though." Isaac said, looking at his brother.

Jacqueline sighed. "Ah well. I was kind of wanting to hook up with an alien. Just imagine it— having sex with a strange creature that seem humanoid but is of another race!"

Quinn chuckled. "I like you, Jacqueline."

"Please, call me Jackie."

"Alright then, Jackie." Quinn said, smiling as she took another bite of her food.

Jacqueline turned back to her brother. "It's not illegal to hook up with an alien, right?"

Isaac shrugged, taking her another bite of his food. "Who knows. First you'd have to find an alien that would even want to hook up with you."

His sister rolled her eyes. "Just point me to this Grudge fellow and I'll see if I like him."

Isaac looked around. As he did so, he noticed Xylion sitting at a table with Jenny. They were talking, and Jenny kept laughing. He then noticed Fred sitting down alone, a phone in hand. He laughed as he talked to someone. It was most likely Justin. He then saw Mason sitting alone, eating his food in silence. At another table was Dattalion, Grudge, and Sil'keen. Grudge was holding up a glass of alcohol from his planet, while Dattalion excitedly told a story. Sil'keen kept laughing at him. Isaac was sure she had a crush on him.

"Over there, the guy with the big glass of alcohol."

"Ooo, sexy. Me like-y."

Isaac rolled his eyes. "If you do hook up with him, make sure he doesn't tell me about it. Or, don't tell me. I'd rather not know that my sister hooked up with my boss."

Jacqueline nodded. "I'll be good, brother dearest."

"Thank you."

Leo sighed. "There's no cute chicks aboard, besides that Jenny. She's busy flirting with that green dude."

Quinn nodded, taking a drink. "They're totally in love. They either won't admit it or don't realize it yet. I can't wait until they finally cross the line and have a hot, steamy make out session."

"We have a bet around here about how long it'll take them to crack. I think it'll be in three months."

"Lion thinks it'll be in one. He's optimistic. Says that Xylion already talks about her, and that he's sure one slip up will have them making babies in no time." Quinn said, laughing.

Isaac frowned. "Dattalion would never say that."

"He didn't use those exact words, I paraphrased."

Leo chuckled. "I can see them together. They'd be cute."

"Do they have a ship name?"

Isaac frowned, shaking his head. "They don't. But, I'm sure someone out there could think of one."

"Out where?" Leo asked, looking around.

"Dunno. I just said that."

Jacqueline shook her head. "You're weird, little brother."

"I try."

Isaac sighed as he stood at the docks. Quinn was next to him, her brown eyes drinking in all the people mulling around them. Leo and Jacqueline stood in front of them, also looking incredibly interested in the docks.

He smiled softly at his siblings. "Even though I didn't want you guys to be here at all, I'm glad you came."

Leo snorted. "Thanks, you're so kind."

Jacqueline narrowed her eyes. "I'll tell you all about the extracurricular activities I experienced if you say anything like that again."

Isaac gulped. He then mock saluted her. "As you say, sista!"

His sister laughed before pressing a sloppy kiss against his cheek. "Love you, little bro. Make sure that you keep Quinn happy and satisfied."

Isaac grimaced while Quinn laughed. Leo pushed Isaac's shoulder. "Don't mess up. I'd be honored to have this chick in the Browne family."

Both of their faces flushed as they glanced at one another. Leo smiled, squeezing his brother's shoulder and pressing a kiss to Quinn's cheek. "Goodbye."

Jacqueline waved. "Adios, mi hermano. I hope to see you later!"

Isaac smiled as his siblings walked down the dock towards their ship home. Quinn hooked an arm around him and pulled him against her. Isaac returned the gesture and they stood there for a few minutes.

"I like your family. They're nice." Quinn said, looking up towards him.

Isaac turned to look down at her. A smile stretched across his face. "You haven't even met my grandma yet. She'd love you."

Quinn chuckled as she pressed his face against his chest. "I love you, Isaac."

"I love you more, Quinn."

[teuvoterafinen]

Not the Same - Part 1

Author’s Note: Alright, guys. I’ve never written hockey stuff before, but I’ve been wanting to for a while. This is going to be a multi-part, probably slow burn piece and I’m still not sure who I want the love interest to be, but Auston is definitely going to be the best friend. It’s also completely self indulgent, so tolerate me. Inspired by my crushed dreams of William playing Center next season and the possibility of Elias Lindholm getting traded in the near future.

If you want me to write anything, just shoot me an ask!

Word Count: 2212

Warnings: I curse like a sailor, drinking, references to lady balls???

April was never meant to be this cold, you thought, fumbling for your keys outside of your basement apartment. It was the only thing you could afford, having moved up to Toronto on just more than a whim. Four months ago, you were a college student in Raleigh, North Carolina and now it was 3am and you had just gotten back from your second bartending job, completely exhausted from your nearly sixteen-hour day. The key stuck in the lock and your fingers were quickly going numb, but the door eventually swung open. 

It was a decent space for what you were paying for it, just a kitchen, bathroom and an open living area. Most of your books were still in boxes against the wall and a wooden futon was serving as a bed and a couch, much to the dismay of your back. It had been hours, apart from the car ride, since you had sat down, so within seconds, both of your Dr. Martens were off and you’d laid yourself out, face down against the blanket. You probably would have fallen asleep in your work clothes if it weren’t for the abrupt chorus of a Swedish rap song screaming from your phone. You groaned as you flopped over to silence it, contemplating whether answering was a good idea, knowing exactly who it was.

On the forth ring, you decided that he would probably end up calling back if you didn’t answer.

“What the fuck, Lindy? It’s nearly four in the morning.” You garbled out the teasingly angry statement at your favorite Swede, who you’d become close friends with while you lived in Raleigh. Elias Lindholm had kept in touch with you after you’d moved to Toronto when very few of your other friends had reached out. It was less lonely now, but sometimes you still needed the familiar voice.

“Y/N, I need your help. I told a friend of mine that I had a friend, who lives in Toronto that needs a new place and I was drunk and I didn’t ask you first, but he’s looking for a roomie, so what do you think?”

“Woah, slow down. How?”

“Alcohol and golf? And Instagram?”

“Okay, yeah, makes sense,” you shrugged, knowing that that was pretty much all he’d been doing for the past week. It was really a shame that the Canes didn’t get to the playoffs this year, but you were jealous of how much free time your friend had. What you wouldn’t give to be playing golf and going to concerts. Work was always first now that you had to support yourself.

“Just hear me out, the house is apparently really nice and you wouldn’t have to deal with him or his other roommates too often. They just want someone else to be at the house so they can get a dog.” He really did know how to get you to listen. Having a backyard for a potential dog was always at the top of your list of domestic goals. Unfortunately, it was unlikely that you would be able to afford that without roommates.

“Alright, I’ll check it out. Who is it anyway?” you questioned. Suddenly you were skeptical of who he was about to set you up with. You got along well with most of the Canes, but they were generally pretty mellow. As much as you loved being social, wild parties weren’t exactly your scene and some of Elias’s friends were more than a little wild.

There was a pause on the other side of the phone and you heard him shout in Swedish, presumably to one of his teammates. He was speaking too fast for you to even think about keeping up, so you drifted back onto your pillow, letting him finish. “Tell the boys I say hi,” you mentioned after a brief pause. “And tell Victor he still owes me a hundred dollars. I could use the money about now.” They were on speaker at this point and you could tell it was Rask in the background. He’d had the nerve to bet you couldn’t make one save against him. You obviously weren’t going to let that slide and you managed a perfect glove save on the first shot.

“Rasky says he’ll pay your first month’s rent if you can put up with Willy for that long,” Lindy laughed, but his statement had caused you to jolt up.

“No, there is no fucking way. I’m not living with William Nylander.” There was a bit of motion on the other end, and some muffled cursing. You had met him a couple times. Last time he spilled his beer on you while incredibly drunk at a party, looked down at your then see through shirt and said “Boobs!” before turning and walking away. You laughed about it later with the guys, but Willy was not someone that you desired to spend an extended amount of time with.

“Y/N, hey,” Rask slurred, having taken the phone from the other man. “I told him you wouldn’t do it. I knew you didn’t have the balls.” You sighed, attempting to keep your cool, you tried hard not to give him the rise that he expected out of you.

“I think you have the lady balls!” Shouted an incredibly intoxicated Jeff Skinner and the rest of the group erupted into hysterical giggles. After a good minute, they seemed to calm down and Elias managed to get the phone back.

“I’m sorry, I already gave him your number,” Elias admitted. You were more than a little pissed, but it wasn’t like he was actually going to call. “I also gave him your address and told him that you didn’t work tomorrow, so he should stop by. He seemed really excited to meet you again.” There was definitely a hint of remorse in his voice, but the fact that your only day to sleep in might have been hijacked…You couldn’t help but be angry.

“It’s my one day off,” you practically whined, “I don’t want to have to deal with goldilocks. Does he even remember last time? Or did you just tell him that we met before?”

“I might have had to remind him.”

“I sent him that video of you in a bikini catching a beer and shotgunning it out of your goalie glove,” Victor added.

“I can’t fucking believe you two.”

An unfamiliar ring tone broke you from what seemed like a brief nap and you rejected the call immediately. Nothing was going to get you out of bed before at least midafternoon; the only obvious reaction was to roll over and go back to sleep. Fifteen minutes later the phone rang again. Looking at your phone, this time you were conscious enough to check the time: 2 o’clock in the afternoon. You groaned and answered the probable telemarketer, the events of last night far from your mind.

“Hi, is this Y/N?” A man questioned, shaking you from sleep.

“Yeah, who is this,” your voice cracked.

“It’s William, Elias Lindholm’s friend. I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” Your early morning conversation was slowly coming back to you and as reluctant as you were to talk to the Leaf this soon after waking up, you found it very difficult to be rude most of the time.

Clearing your voice quickly away from your phone, you responded with fake alertness, “No, I was actually just about to make lunch. What’s up?”

“Really? That’s perfect. We were just in the neighborhood and were wondering if we could stop by.” You scrambled to your feet at the realization that you might soon be having company, rushing to grab a change of clothes and a ball cap from the dresser. There was a pair of black ripped jeans on the dresser that you always thought looked good on you. Check. Finding a clean shirt was more of a challenge. 

“Uh, sure, I don’t see why not,” you mumbled trying to pull the fly on your pants while holding the phone to your ear. There you were, pulling on skinny jeans while on the phone, trying to make it sound like you weren’t hopping around on one leg in attempt to get the waistband over your too big ass. It crossed your mind briefly how the wealthy athlete just happening to be in your neighborhood of all places was a bit of a stretch. “I’m not super prepared for company. . . Are you guys close by?” There were a couple long seconds of silence on the other end of the line before he responded again.

“Well, we’re actually already at your place. We’ve kind of been driving around the block waiting for you to pick up.” Of course. The Toronto Maple Leafs were on your doorstep and you couldn’t find a shirt. You quickly grabbed an old band tee from the top of your laundry basket that you didn’t think you wore to work, shamefully did a sniff test and pulled it over your head.

The fact that the blonde’s statement didn’t actually come as a surprise was a testament to the amount of time you had spent around professional hockey players. None of them seemed to know the concept of making plans, they all just assumed they could show up to your apartment, eat your leftovers and watch shitty shows on your Netflix account. You would always forgive them when they asked if you’d make dinner, like a bunch of huge, rowdy kids coming in from a game of road hockey. Laughing lightly, you pulled your well-worn Blue Jays hat on over your mess of bed head and went to the kitchen to start on the lunch that you had lied about.

“Sorry…You can park on the side of the road right in front of the apartment. I’m down the stairs.”

“Awesome! We’ll be down in a minute,” he chimed before hanging up. He honestly didn’t seem so bad, now that you’d spoken to him while you were both sober. Maybe living with him would have more pluses than minuses. And Victor would pay the bill for the first month. You wouldn’t have to deal with your ceiling leaking during storms and the constant smell of old cigarette smoke that had soaked in to the cheap carpeting. You might even be able to start saving for a car. Not that you didn’t love your ‘98 Camry to bits, but she was coming up on a much-deserved retirement.

The clamor of muffled voices could be heard all the way in your kitchen through the thin front door and suddenly you were a bit nervous. You were already walking over when they knocked, unlocking the deadbolt and the main lock before pausing for a second. Nylander was one thing, but it hadn’t crossed your mind who else might be on the other side of the door. I look like a slob. I should have washed my face again, there’s probably make up under my eyes. Do I even understand the concept of looking cute anymore??? Biting the bullet, you swung the door wide to reveal Willy, Kasperi Kapanen, and, the nail in your coffin, Auston Matthews. You thanked your lucky stars that they hadn’t shown up to your door in suits, your neighbors were bound to talk about three of Toronto’s golden boys showing up on your doorstep, let alone wearing designer brands.

“Hey, Willy,” you smiled, forcing yourself to push back the sudden panic that had taken you by surprise. The three made their way through the doorway and you awkwardly reached out your hand to introduce yourself to the two that you had yet to meet. Kapanen accepted it graciously, Matthews was standing further back, closing the door behind them. “I’m Y/N…” It wasn’t exactly easy to say how you knew William, so you just avoided that part. “I’m sorry about the mess, I wasn’t really expecting to do anything today.” The blond had already gone over to sit on your futon/bed and was about to put his feet up on the coffee table when you cast a look in his direction that had a clear message attached.

“I’m Kappy,” the Finnish man introduced himself, laughing at your silent reprimand of his friend.

“Auston.” The American nodded from a distance and didn’t reach out to shake your hand. He instead took the time to look at you like everything about you confused him. The rumors of his ‘too cool’ attitude were all too true it seemed. Tall and handsome in his ripped skinny jeans that did nothing to hide his impressive physique. He leaned against the door like he owned the place, like his shitty band shirt was somehow cooler than your shitty band shirt. He oozed competitiveness and you felt yourself drowning in it. You didn’t know what game you were playing, but you couldn’t let him win. The room was tense as you sweated through your internal monologue, interrupted only by a sly smirk slipping onto Auston’s face as he reached up to pull the Jays hat off his head.

“So did you guys call each other to plan your outfits? I would say I feel left out, but I don’t think I could twin that perfectly if I tried.”

[ladyscribbles]

The Secret

(bold, italic = email; italic = inner thoughts/flashbacks)

Hey, can you keep a secret? 

I grinned slightly, wondering just what juicy secret this random lady from the internet was going to share with me. Hopefully, it was some kind of declaration of love for my brother, the actual owner of this computer that I was currently hijacking, which I could later embarrass him with. 

Yeah, I typed. So what is it?

Her responses shot out like bullets, each one only a few seconds apart. Somehow, I knew her fingers were flying across the keys with almost lightning speed. Maybe she was going as fast as lightning. Maybe she’d become an entire storm. 

He got paint into my hair. It was red. I remember that. I was mad at him for a little bit, but I couldn’t stay mad for long. At least, that’s how I remember it. Who knows? Maybe he turned me into a fiery redhead for the whole day. 

I’d shoot hoops at recess, and he’d wait under the basket and return them for me. 

His nose always bled at recess. I always wondered about that, but I never asked. It was something normal for him. 

He always sat at lunch with me. Even when Jerri Parkson wouldn’t. 

We used to be next-door neighbors. Back in second grade, I think. We used to blow bubbles and eat popsicles. It kind of sucked because I’d always end up getting a bubble or two on my popsicle. The taste of bubbles. I used to hate it. But I don’t now. 

I stared at the computer screen. Holy shit. 

She remembered too? 

“Bill!” she screeched after I accidently dumped a few droplets of red paint into her hair. She whirled around to face me, her face beet red and her nose scrunched up in anger. A few seconds passed, before the mad scowl disappeared, and she turned back to her artwork. “You’re lucky I’m not an angry kind of person,” she said, but I knew she was grinning. 

Sometimes, I laid awake at night, thinking about nothing but that grin. 

“Darn it!” she cried as she missed yet another shot. 

I tried not to smile as I tossed her back the ball, but I must have failed because she scrunched up her nose at me. “What?” I asked innocently. 

She only stuck her tongue out at me. 

I wondered if she continued to shoot hoops without me. Somehow, the thought made me green with envy. 

I clutched a tissue to my nose, as red was starting to spread. Why does it always have to happen at recess, where everyone can see? 

“You okay?” she asked as she approached me from behind. 

“Yeah. It’s fine.”

“Alright.”

I never did tell her the reason why I had so many nosebleeds, did I? 

I saw her let out a big huff before sitting down, her eyes focused on something. I followed her gaze and saw Jerri had sat down at another table. I took my place beside her, and she munched angrily on an apple. She didn’t say anything. She almost never did. 

I didn’t either. I figured I didn’t need to tell her I wouldn’t ever leave her. 

It was a good thing I didn’t, in the end. Considering I did end up leaving her. 

We sat on the porch. She was sitting on the porch, sucking on her popsicle. Every now and then, she made a face, which I’m sure mirrored my own. I swung my legs back and forth. 

“I used to not like summer very much,” she said after a few minutes. 

“Why?” 

“I usually don’t get to see my friends 'till school starts again.”

“You live in town, don’t you?”

“Outside. In the middle of nowhere. Well, down a lane with some other houses. But none of them have kids. Well, one of them does, but I don’t know her. And Mom didn’t always live here.”

“Yeah, but that’s not true anymore. Now, you live right next to me.”

“I hope we’ll always stay neighbors. I like having my friend for a neighbor.”

That was so long ago. I remembered thinking way back when if I’d ever taste bubbles again. So far, I haven’t. 

I wished I could remember more, but there were only a few memories, and even those were hazy. 

There was another ding from the computer, and I realized she was messaging my brother again. Probably had to take a break, and now she was ready to fire bullets again.

I can’t remember all the memories we shared together, not like I used to. I still think about him, though. 

Nine years later. God. 

I thought I’d forgotten about him. Moved on. 

But then I saw him when I was in sixth grade at my grandma’s church. We barely talked though. 

“Hey, Bill,” a familiar voice greeted from behind me. 

I turned, and like a dream, there she was. Her eyes were cast down, not necessarily on the floor, but just away from my eyes. I’m sure mine were too. I said hi, too, but that was it, I think. I couldn’t think of anything else to say, other than the obvious, “I really really miss you and I hope we see each other again - and oh, by the way I’m secretly in love with you”. Well, there was, but there was no way I could get the guts up to say it. 

But then I thought about him again after me and Austin broke up. Austin was my first and only boyfriend. 

A spike of jealousy rose up within me, and I had to suppress it to avoid smashing my fist through the computer. After the envy drained away, I was left with a deep sorrow. 

Maybe if he’d stayed, we would’ve dated too. 

Maybe I’d taste bubbles again. 

The sweet taste of bubbles...

I drew his name on Notability several times. Over and over. I said I loved him several times. 

I was just sitting on the couch with a pen and paper when my hand started moving on its own. I wasn’t paying much attention and was just zoned out. But when I returned to reality, I realized I’d written her name over and over again. 

Before he left, I asked Jerri Parkson if she was dating him. She said no. I could’ve asked him. But I didn’t. I wish I did, though. 

Wait, what? I reread the message, disbelieving. She’d wanted to ask me? 

“Hey, Alexander, you’re not, uh, dating anybody, are you?” I asked him in the most discreet manner I could manage, which wasn’t much. “Like, um, Sandra?” 

“No,” he replied with a confused look. 

“Okay.”

I could’ve asked her. But I didn’t. 

I wish I did, though. 

Damn, I wish he was here. 

I think I still love him after all this time. 

I was just doodling in my notepad, and after a while, my randomized faces began to morph into a specific one. “It’s been nine years, but I think the feelings never went away,” I said softly. 

Billie Jean. You know, after that MJ song. 

“Hey, Billie Jean!” she called from the top of the bridge before throwing a ball at me. I threw my arms up and somehow managed to catch it. “You turd!” she cried. 

“Don’t call me Billie Jean, then!” I cried back. 

But to be honest, I actually liked it. Mainly because it’d come from her. 

I used to call him that. Sometimes, I say that aloud and wish it could just bring him here. That’s stupid, huh? 

No, not stupid at all. Hell, I’d wish for the same thing. In fact, I think I have. 

I want the taste of bubbles back. 

I want him. 

I want him back. 

I want to be his friend again. 

I want our friendship back. 

I want Billie Jean. 

I want Bill Gayce. 

I felt a tear roll down my cheek, and I wiped it away. Two came in its place, though, and soon, my face was flooded. I sniffed and wiped them all away once they stopped coming. 

My fingers hovered over the keyboard. I want Sandra Lawrence. I had typed the sentence and was about to send it, but I hesitated. I ended up deleting it. I’m Bill Gayce. Delete. 

I sighed in frustration and ran my fingers through my hair. “Damn it, I’m hopeless,” I muttered. 

I’m sorry for loading all this onto you. I just needed to tell somebody. I needed to tell somebody other than me about my feelings. About how I’m hopelessly pining after a boy I haven’t seen in nine years even though it’s stupid. 

It’s not stupid, I typed. I hit send before I could even think twice about it. 

A few moments passed. Then she came back with, Thanks. You’re a cool guy...uh, can I have your name? You know, other than RandomBoiii01?

Bill, I typed and sent without thinking. The bubble that indicated she was in the middle of typing popped up. Billie Jean, I quickly typed. 

The bubble immediately disappeared. It stayed like that for a few minutes. Then, You’re a jackass. This isn’t funny. 

Sandy Cheeks, I then sent.

“What are you doing?” Sandra asked as she peered over my shoulder. I was sitting on the bleachers while everyone else was on the gymnasium floor, playing in one form or another. 

“Drawing,” I replied. 

“Drawing what? I can’t tell.”

“Your sandy cheeks.”

She punched me in the arm. “I’ll kick your butt, Billie Jean!” 

“And I’ll kick yours, Sandy Cheeks!” Another punch. This one actually hurt a little. “Ow!” 

“You know you shouldn’t insult someone with a softball arm,” Sandra said haughtily. 

I only smiled, deciding to let her have this one. Besides, I didn’t want to end up telling her that I had actually been drawing our two heads together. 

You’re shitting me. 

No, you’re the one shitting. Out of your sandy cheeks, I replied with a small grin.

You’re lucky I’m not beside you. Otherwise, I’d punch you with my softball arm. A few moments passed. So, we’ve been talking this whole time? 

No, I replied. This is my brother’s computer. I hijacked it a few minutes ago. 

So...you saw what I said. 

Yeah. 

God. This is so freakin’ embarrassing. 

Um...Sandra...can you keep a secret?

Secret? Yeah, I guess. What is it? 

I have a crush on someone. For a long time now. I don’t want anyone to know about it. Only you. 

A few minutes passed. I thought perhaps that she had secretly gone as green with jealousy as I had when I’d heard about her first boyfriend. I was about to tell her just who it was, when she finally responded. 

I won’t tell. 

You swear it? 

OMFG, I’m going to take a plane to Idaho and punch you in the freakin’ face if you don’t just tell me already!!!

Her name’s Sandra Lawrence. 

What? 

She’s also known as Sandy Cheeks. 

Suddenly, my brother’s phone started ringing. I picked it up and saw Sandra was trying to facetime me. Huh. I guess she and my bro swapped numbers. I swiped and I found myself staring at a nineteen-year-old version of the Sandra I’d known. Her hair had turned from dark blonde to brown. Her sapphire eyes were still as sparkling blue as ever, and they were widened now. 

“Oh, wow, you got real hot.” 

Her face then turned beet red, and she started stammering. Whatever I was going to say went out of mind as I entered a trance-like state where all I could focus on was how cute and endearing her continuous stammering was to me. 

She finally stopped talking, took a deep breath, and said in a calm voice, “Did you…” Her brows knit together as she hesitated, letting her sentence trail a bit before continuing. “Did you mean...what you said?”

“Did you?” 

Sandra scrunched her nose up at me. “Hey, I asked you first, Billie Jean!” She then started laughing softly, running her hand through her hair. “Wow,” she muttered. “How the hell does something like this happen? You don’t see a friend for nine years, and then you see him again and act like nothing changed. How the hell is that possible?”

I shrugged. Then a thought occurred to me, and I replied, “I guess it’s as possible as liking the taste of bubbles.” 

Sandra grinned slightly, a little bit of color flooding into her cheeks. “You know, I think you might be right.”

“Anyway, will you keep it?” I asked. 

“Keep what?”

“My secret. Can you keep my secret?”

She blinked a few times in confusion before the realization dawned on her. Sandy Cheeks then grinned. “Sure will, Billie Jean.” 

[iamvegorott]

HiJacked Chapter 4

Hotel

“Dead? What do you mean he’s dead?” Mark asked with voice lowered to a whisper. The group had all moved to the kitchen while Alec and Mason talked on the couch in the living room and were all speaking softly.

“I mean he’s been dead for years,” Jack whispered back.

“He either not dead or he’s a good-looking zombie,” Wade said.

“How did Mason die?” Amy asked.

“Alec did it. He said he used a spell in an attempt to take Mason’s magic away and it didn’t work.” Jack answered.

“Why did Alec try to take his magic away?”

“The Magic Society drove him insane and Alec was ordered to take care of it.”

“This is insane.” Felix rubbed his face. “We have a fucking zombie in the living room.”

“We’re currently in a magic created world with gray blobs trying to kill us, is a zombie really that hard to believe?” Mark said.

“If something was wrong with Mason, Alec would know, right?” Signe asked.

“Yeah, he-” Jack stopped when he heard a hiss, he turned around and saw that Callie was glaring at Mason. “Callie, come here.” Jack patted at his legs. Callie perked up and rushed over to Jack, crawling up to his shoulder. “He’s fine.” He said to Callie, packing them on the head.

“Is everything alright?” Alec asked as he stood. He took Mason’s hand and lead him into the kitchen.

“Alec, how is Mason here?” Jack asked.

“Honestly, I have no idea,” Alec admitted.

“I...I just kind of woke up and found myself in front of the house.” Mason rocked back and forth between his feet, clearly very anxious. “I figured that if someone was here, it was better than being alone.” Mason swallowed and stepped closer to Alec.

Mason was almost the same size as Alec, he was a good few inches taller than the other man. His face was a lot rounder and softer and he was definitely a lot shyer than his partner.

“I’m so glad that you did,” Alec said, giving Mason a peck on the cheek.

“So...dinner?” Felix awkwardly asked, not wanting to interrupt the moment, but really wanting some food.

“Yes, yes, of course. We should get back to our plan.” Alec went over to Signe and Amy, Mason still holding his hand. “Shall we get started?”

“Yes, sir!” Both Amy and Signe said.

x~x~x

“Hello!?” Alec yelled into the hotel, gun out and ready. “All clear!” He called, the others walking into the hotel as well.

“Do we want to see if the elevators work here, too?” Wade asked.

“They should,” Alec said, leading the group deeper into the building.

“My chest still hurts from the sprint up.” Jack shook his head.

“You never wait for the elevator in a high-stress situation,” Signe stated. “That’s how people die in horror movies.”

“She does have a point,” Felix said.

“I have a feeling it’s going to turn dark soon,” Alec said as he pressed the elevator button. “We’ll go to the top floor, I’ll look for the weak point and we’ll crash here.”

“I am checking the hell out of the hotel room I claim, I will not have another one of those things sneaking up on us,” Bob stated, twirling the bat in his hand.

“My stomach already hurts from the memory of the last time we were on a hotel roof.” Felix groaned, being the last one to enter the elevator.

“Thinking about you throwing up is making me want to throw up.” Wade rubbed his stomach.

“Can we stop talking about vomiting?” Mark asked. Felix and Wade shared a look before they both air heaved.

“You asked for it.” Jack chuckled.

“I’m Signe.” Singe introduced herself to Mason, her shoulders lowering in slight disappointment when Mason said nothing back and hugged Alec’s arm.

“He doesn’t do well with new people,” Alec explained. “Give him some time, he was like this to me when we first met and now we’re married.”

“I’m a grown ass man and I can’t say hello to strangers,” Mason grumbled. “The only time I can is if I’m manipulating them.”

“Let’s not talk about that part of the past.” Alec ran his hand through Mason’s hair.

“You two are adorable,” Amy said, the elevator dinging and opening up prevented Alec from answering.

“I hate the structure of these buildings.” Alec groaned. “Everyone thinks of them so inaccurately.”

“The sooner we get out of here, the sooner you can get away from inaccurate buildings,” Mark stated.

“I’m going to climb to the top,” Alec stated, pointing to the highest point of the building.

“We can start searching the rooms on this floor to make sure that everything is clear,” Jack said.

“I’m staying with Alec,” Mason said softly.

“Shocker.” Felix teased, earning a thump on the back of the head by Bob. “Rude.”

“That’s what I was going to say,” Bob said.

“I was joking,” Felix said as everyone but Alec and Mason went through the door to enter the top floor.

Jack went up to the first door they saw, he pressed his against the wood and knocked. He held his breath as he listened. After taking his gun out, Jack put his hand on the knob and slowly opened the door. He propped the door open with his foot and aimed his gun into the room. Nothing.

“Looks like this is a two-person suite,” Wade stated.

“Dibs!” Signe sang, waving a hand in the air.

“Let me check the bathroom first,” Jack said, going deeper into the room after seeing that Mark was holding the door. Jack repeated what he did to the first door, but kept his gun up as he slowly walked over to the bathtub, throwing open the curtain and placing his finger on the trigger. He let out a sigh of relief when it was empty. “Bathroom’s clear.”

“So’s this,” Felix added, pointing to the empty closet.

“Shall we check next door?” Wade said, gesturing with his thumb.

“You, Bob and Felix can check the room to the left. Mark, Amy, Signe and I can check the one on the right.” Jack said.

“We should keep the door propped open so we know which one we’ve checked,” Signe suggested. Jack nodded his head and slipped off his backpack, Callie leaped out of the bag as soon as it was opened, going to Jack’s shoulder and showing that they were clearly upset about being trapped in there.

“Sorry, Callie. I had to make sure you didn’t get hurt.” Jack gave Callie a pat on the head before zipping the bag back up. He sat the bag at the door’s frame and allowed the door to close in it. Jack saw that Wade, Bob, and Felix were already at the other door and after making sure that nothing jumped out at them when Felix opened the door, he joined Mark, Amy, and Signe. Mark already had a hand on the doorknob. Jack nodded his head when he was ready.

“Four-person suite,” Amy commented after the door was opened and nothing attacked them.

“We’re clear,” Wade called from down the hall.

“It’s a two person,” Bob added.

“We got a four,” Mark called back.

“Bathroom’s fine,” Signe said after she was done.

“And closet’s good.” Jack closed the closet.

“So, we got two twos and a four. If we can find another two, the couples can stay in their own rooms and Wade, Bob and Felix can have this one.” Amy said.

“Boy’s night!” Felix laughed and high-fived Wade and Bob.

“I found the spot,” Alec stated when he walked through the door, seeing that the others were standing together in front of a room. “We clear?”

“We’re gonna look for one more room and them we’re thinking of splitting into couples and letting Felix, Wade, and Bob claim this room,” Signe answered.

“Me and Mason can check this room, you guys go ahead and start settling for the night. The sun’s gone, so there’s not much else we can do outside.” Alec said. Everyone nodded and went to their claimed rooms. Amy and Mark went to the furthest one, while Signe and Jack took the one next to it. Felix, Wade, and Bob were discussing sleeping arrangements as they went into the four-person suite.

“Do you think the mini-fridge is stocked?” Jack asked as he crouched down in front of the unit.

“I would love some candy, right now.” Signe sighed as she made sure the door was locked.

“How do cold M&Ms sound?” Jack asked, pulling out several bags of the candy.

“Please!” Signe took one of the bags and sat on the bed.

“They have single servings bottles of wine.” Jack chuckled as he took out the bottles. “This place is fancy and we don’t have to worry about a bill.”

“If you have more than two of those, I’m fighting you,” Signe warned with a smile.

“Depends on how strong this shit is,” Jack said as he started removing the bottle’s wrapping.

“Maybe we should call it a night? It’s early but…” Signe stopped when she saw that Jack was crawling over to her, a large grin on his face.

“Maybe we could have some fun first?” Jack suggested.

“Really?” Signe asked with a raised brow, getting her answer when Jack gently tackled her.

Eventually, everyone managed to fall asleep, but for Jack, it was short lived. He woke with a scream stuck in his throat, gasping for air as his entire body went cold. Jack saw that Signe was, thankfully, still asleep. He swallowed a few times before getting out of the bed, stumbling in the dark as he searched for his shirt and pants. He should have packed sweatpants or something, but no, jeans were needed the most.

Jack left the room, making sure that the door shut as quietly as possible. He waited a moment before heading over to the room Alec and Mason were in. Jack was going to knock on the door, but after hearing some sounds that he knew he should not interrupt, he walked away. He saw that Mark had left his room as well, being extra careful with the door. The two shared a look, both not needing words to explain why they were out of bed.

“Three times.” Mark sighed.

“I gave up after one.” Jack chuckled as he went over to Mark. “I thought I was over that.”

“With all that’s been happening, I’m not shocked,” Mark said. “Are you going to talk to Alec?”

“I was going to, but he’s a little...busy.” The face Jack made told Mark all that he needed to know.

“I was just gonna walk back and forth down the hall till either the others get up or I pass out, wanna join?” Mark offered.

“Who doesn’t love passing out?” Jack chuckled as he joined Mark.

“I do it at least once a week.” Mark chuckled as well.

“You ain’t living if you ain’t passing out.”

“Passing out is the best part of living.”

“I love-” Mark and Jack stopped their jokes when they heard a gong. It only went off once, but it was enough to make the two men run out to the roof.

“Holy shit,” Mark said when they saw a large moon in the sky. “What is this Hunger Games, bullshit!?”

“There’s someone down there!” Jack started leaning over the edge of the roof. “Hey! Hey!” He called. Either the person didn’t hear him or was ignoring him since they just kept walking, going into the woods. “Wait! Don’t go!” Jack crawled up to the edge, standing up.

“Jack!” Mark yelled when Jack jumped off, cursing loudly when he saw that Jack was now running down large, illuminated squares that formed a staircase. “Fucking, shit, fuck, god-damn!” Mark took several steps towards the door, then went back to the stairs, back to the door and again to the steps. “Fuck!” Mark scrambled up the edge and jumped down as well. Continuing his cursing as he went after his friend.

[segadores-y-soldados]

Hola, amigos!

Hit another follower milestone the other day and like holy hell, I just cannot believe there are so many of you hanging out here??  Seriously, thank you for all the love and support, especially on that “Gabriel/Reaper is mlm/gay-coded” post.  It meant so much to me to see all the people supporting it in the tags.  

Normally when I hit these follower milestones, I do a little introduction about who I am for newcomers and to help older followers remember who I am and what I’m about.  In this one, I’m gonna do something a little different.  I’m gonna do a small showcase of my writing.

Tumblr username: Segadores-y-soldados AO3 username: clickclickBANG Semi-personal info: transdude from California, please use he/him for me Semi-relevant skills: slowly improving my Spanish - feel free to correct my nonsense Content: All Overwatch stuff, lots of Reaper76 shippy stuff - be sure to look at my About page to find my other ships I’ll reblog

Works Showcase:

Old Habits (Rating: T - Action/Adventure - slow-burn Reaper76): 

“We’re gonna blow the train - ”

“Do you think that maybe - just maybe - blowing up a bridge with a fucking military-grade bomb on it is...not a great idea?” Reaper growls, and Widowmaker shoots him another bitter glare.

Hernandez, genius military strategist that he is not, frowns a little at this, before saying, “Ya know… we’re just gonna have to roll with it because we don’t got any other options.”

“...We could hijack the train?”  You know, like normal terrorist assholes.

“Nah, they got extra security on there - brought in some fancy Helix guards from Egypt itself after that shitshow in Grand Mesa two days ago.  Gonna be extra tough to stop it without heavy fire power.”

This is a recipe for disaster.

“Anyways, y’all ain’t even gonna be at the blast site,” Hernandez continues, sliding onto the crude overhead map of the gorge.  Reaper can see some of the buildings that line the winding road of Deadlock Gorge, as Hernandez points a baton of a finger at some of the buildings closest to the entrance to the Deadlock base, “Y’all are gonna be here and here - ” he points to a tunnel on the southern side of the map, cut into the cliffs, “We think that posting y’all up in the tunnel o’ mysteries here and in the guard house here - ” he moves his hand to the building on the north side of the road, the one built into the bluff, “ - will best suit our needs.  The gang and I - we’re gonna be out here, in the diner - ” he moves his finger to the far west side of the map, to the building almost directly under the blast site, “ - so that we can jump on the cargo rapido, get ‘em while they’re surprised.  If everything goes according to plan, we’ll meet up with y’all at the first gate here, and it should be smooth sailing into the base.”

“Except for the part where the military and Helix fucking rain hellfire on us, right?” Reaper asks, and he sees some of the Talon agents glance at each other, “Cause you didn’t mention that part.”

“Well, yeah, no shit they’re gonna be pissed.  But don’t you worry your ugly little head, hombre de craneo, we’re gonna take care of the worst of ‘em.  Got us some heavy duty shit, if you know what I mean.”  Hernandez flashes a toothy grin and Reaper rolls his eyes.

Blowing up a bridge, a military-grade bomb, and rocket launchers.

Fucking swell.

“Why even bring us here if you weren’t gonna let Widowmaker snipe for you?” Reaper asks sourly.

“Well, uh…” Hernandez stumbles over his genius military strategy, “She can, uh...snipe from the cliffside where you’re at.”

“Does it have a view for sniping?” he snaps at the gang leader who mumbles, “I...uh...don’t know?”

Reaper sighs, rubbing at the forehead of his mask as if that would help clear up his real headache at all before muttering, “Alright, listen, here’s a better plan -”

“No one asked you, cabrón -”

“No, no one did, but you know, Widowmaker can’t fail this mission and, frankly, right now, this mission is a failure.  How ‘bout instead, we’re gonna be posted here, on this cliff - ”  Reaper points a talon at the cliff just east across the road from the diner, but on the non-blast side, “ - Widowmaker and - which one of you assholes can snipe?  Oh, Henri, right - Widowmaker and Henri will be up here, and once the blast is cleared, you two will start sniping the wreck survivors.  If they’ve brought in Helix from Egypt, that means Raptora Mark VI units, which are fliers with rocket power, so you’re gonna want snipers on the scene ASAP.  Me and these other assholes, we’re gonna be posted up in this ground tunnel just beneath Widowmaker and Henri, so we can help out with some of the ground units that are bound to show up - they always fucking do.  If we move fast, we can get the payload past this cliff and by this building here before they even know what hit them.  AT THAT POINT, we can start fanning back out - no need to put all of our eggs in one basket, that’s just begging for us all to get blown the fuck up.  Widowmaker’s squad will back out to the positions you originally suggested, but we’ll crawl on it, moving behind that building and up to the tunnels by the first gate.  There’s gotta be a second or even third military train of support for this - there’s no way in fucking hell they’re letting this go with only one train.  That means backup will be hitting us just before the first gate if we’re unlucky, or just past it if we’re lucky - we want it to be past the first gate as soon as fucking possible, so that we can block them off if need be.  Shoring up these tunnels around the gate is gonna be a pain in the ass, why do you even have them here?  But well, I guess we’ll just have to fucking deal with them.  I don’t like the look of this curve with all these buildings here - ridiculously fucking open to airstrikes and heavy ground-level pushes, but we’ll just have to ambush them out of the buildings instead - I take it you don’t give a shit if these shitholes are still standing after this?”

Reaper pauses, but when the tractor of a man doesn’t respond, he finally looks up from the map to see that…

Oh.

They’re all staring at him.

Oh shit. --------- 76 + 127: How We Were Made (Rating: Explicit - Reaper76 (SEP-era Morreyeson)):  Even now, Jack knows Gabriel has already found a way out of his cell. 

Jack just has no idea what he did. 

Think outside the box, he can practically hear Gabriel whisper incessantly to him in his rattling, loose brain. 

I can’t, Gabe - I’m fucking trapped inside the box. 

You just gotta assess the situation critically.  You have advantages, Jack - you just gotta find them. 

Advantages. 

Sure. 

Being locked in a cell has zero advantages over a guard in light body armor and a rubber-bullet gun. 

The haze of sleepiness and exhaustion and pent-up frustration and roiling, thunderous energy in his veins is killing every idea in his head. 

Look at your situation, think of what you have that 16 or 14 doesn’t. 

“...So you are you gonna suck 16’s dick or nah?” 83 asks him vaguely from across the hall. 

Sucking dicks is thinking outside the box, right? Jack half-wonders to himself, half to whatever sliver of Gabriel exists in his exhausted mind.  He can practically see Gabriel’s shrug - Gabriel would understand if Jack sucked a dick to get out of jail.  Gabriel would probably do that himself. 

Had Gabriel sucked his guard’s dick for the key? 

The thought alone makes his head pound harder. 

Jack grunts, “Fuck off.  Get 99 to do it.” 

“Dude, I fucking will,” 99 whines but 100 snorts, “16 won’t want you, asshole.  At least 76 is attractive.” 

Reflexively, Jack makes a face as 78 chuckles. 

“Y’all know I fucking hear you, right?” Jack asks loudly and 100 calls back, “Oh, we know.  We just don’t care.” 

Think, Jack.  Think about your advantages. 

I don’t have any, Gabriel. You can think outside of the box.  I can’t.  I’m not like you.  I’m not good enough.  Not smart enough. 

I’m inside the box. 

I’ve always been inside the box.  

---------

(More content under the cut)

---------

Sharpshooter: Hit Me Like A Drum (Rating: T - McHanzo): At this point in his life, Jesse is used to the stares. Doesn’t matter where he goes, people oogle him. Well, okay, not entirely true - some parts of Central and Southern America still got some authentic vaqueros and oddly enough some banditos, but even there, Jesse’s height makes him stand easily above most heads and shoulders. 

And yes, okay, maaaaybe the hat doesn’t help. But he’ll let the Devil drag him to Hell kicking and screaming before giving up the damn thing. 

So he barely notices the glances the poor patrons of Rikimaru are shooting his way when someone behind him taps him just above his right elbow. 

Jesse jerks a little, startling out of his semi-mosing thoughts and vacant-eyed stare at the menu to twist and little and glance behind him and oh Jesus, Mary, Joseph and the Arizona Diamondbacks, what a gorgeous face. 

The man behind him is a beautiful mix of high, sweeping curves and careful angles - his face is fairly chiseled but features a softness to it that is offset by the neatly trimmed beard and steady glint in his deep, dark eyes. His jet-black hair, peppered on the sides with some strands of grey, is pulled back into a small ponytail at the back of his head, and Jesse thinks he sees a long yellow...ribbon holding it back. But otherwise the man is dressed in a simple sweatshirt and some black jeans except that - 

Is that a fucking bow and quiver? Jesse wonders. The man is not much shorter than him - only a few inches - but Jesse can see something slung over his shoulder and something else that looks suspiciously like a bunch of arrow feathers poking out from behind his back. 

Jesse flicks his eyes from the apparent quiver back to the man’s amazing face and his dark eyes and immediately knows two things: 

1 - This man is absolutely the most handsome person Jesse has ever had the blessed fortune of meeting. 

2 - He does not understand a word coming out of the man’s mouth. 

“...Pardon?” Jesse asks absently, blinking awkwardly. The...archer (?) tilts his head a little and scowls a bit - oh jackrabbit turds, I pissed him right off - before saying in flawless English, “It is your turn.” 

Oh. Jesse thinks lamely. English. 

“Oh uh, thanks, partner,” Jesse says awkwardly, glancing back towards the counter where one of the chefs is waiting with an expression of stern politeness that is fading into increasing annoyance. Jesse makes eye contact with the chef and she gives him a small handwave of “hurry up, tourist, I don’t have all day.” 

“Uh…” Jesse glances back sheepishly at the man behind me, giving him an embarrassed smile, “You wouldn’t happen to know which one is the spicy pork ramen, would you?” 

The man’s scowl fades for a quick second before returning, and he says with startlingly serious focus, “Oh. You can’t read it.” 

“Uh…no, sorry ‘bout that, darlin’,” Jesse apologizes without thinking and the man raises an eyebrow, asking, “‘Darling?’” 

OH FUCK ME AND MY DUMB ASS 

Why, yes, please do, the wiseass side of Jesse cracks in his head and he fucking flounders over the barrage of shame and embarrassment and attraction. 

“Oh, damn, shit, sorry - oh cheese on a cracker, I shouldn’t be swearing, oh god you’re gonna think I was never taught manners - shoot, sugar, I’m so sorry, it’s a bad habit I got from my pa and - Shit, I just did it again - sorry, it’s been a long trip here and, oh Lord, I just swore again, this is so embarrassing -” 

A startled look of wonder blossoms on the man’s face and if Jesse wasn’t so fucking flustered, he would love to try and mentally catalogue how the man looks so open and surprised. Jesse is in the middle of tripping over his words when the unthinkable happens.  

A miracle occurs. 

The man gives a surprisingly broad and genuinely happy grin and starts to laugh.   --------- Segador: It Is Not Him (Rating - T):

Gabriel practically jogs up to her in the hallway to the main entrance, muttering, “Gabrielle…  Gabrielle… Adawe, fucking stop.”

That gets her attention, and she snaps around towards him with a fierce stare, squaring herself up to him rather impressively with her short stature as she whispers dangerously, “Do not take that tone of voice with me, Gabriel -”

“I can’t do this.”

Adawe pauses because -

There’s a cracking in his voice.

Gabriel knows he has problems conveying his emotions - Jack always jokes that Gabriel’s face could make a bed of nails look soft.  Gabriel knows he has problems expressing himself - he can never find the right words to say.  Gabriel knows he has problems opening up - his heart struggles behind the layers of steel and bravado and taunting sarcasm, barriers only a select few have managed to get past.

Gabriel knows he has problems taking pictures.

Gabriel locks onto her dark eyes and -

He wouldn’t call it begging, per se -

But he’s definitely pleading with her:

“Please… Please, Gabrielle - we need to talk about this,” he says softly and Adawe’s dark mood lightens a bit as she says to him gently, “...It is just a few pictures, Gabriel.”

“...It’s not the pictures, Gabrielle.”

Adawe’s eyes - normally so bright and lively, now turned solemn and serious - search his for an answer and Gabriel whispers, dangerously close to feeling vulnerable -

He feels uncomfortable.

He feels unlike himself.

“This isn’t me, Gabrielle,” Gabriel says, his voice breaking under the pressure of a too-tight headset and the pressure of a too-tight chestpiece and the weight of carrying an empty rifle that isn’t his, “The meetings, the Security Council, planning city reconstructions, balancing budgets - I’m a general, not a politician.”

“There are still many parts of the world under great violence, Gabriel,” she reminds him, with a gentle pressure but a pressure nonetheless, “The world still needs you as Commander.”

“Out there, on the battlefield, sure, yeah, fuck, I’ll fight, I’ll always fight, but this?” Gabriel says, gesturing to himself, to the ridiculous blue pieces of armor and the empty rifle, “This is playing fucking dress-up -”

“Funny,” Adawe smirks at him, “I thought you would have liked that, considering your fondness for that American costume holiday.”

“This isn’t fucking Halloween, Adawe,” he snaps, perhaps a touch more...violently than he should have, “This is not what I wore when I was ripping heads off Bastions or tripping up Spiders or even destroying Titans - and it won’t be what I wear when I put down terrorists or gangs or mercenaries.”

“It’s just a photoshoot, Reyes -”

“We need to talk about putting Jack or Ana in charge of Overwatch.”

Adawe stops, her mouth sealing into a tight line and Gabriel scowls at her, muttering in a low, dark, bittersweet growl, his words curling out of his lungs like black smoke, “I’ll fight whatever new battles this damn organization faces, I’ll do whatever needs to be done - whether that’s mercing a few bad guys or cleaning up the leftover Bastions or fucking balancing budgets - but you cannot keep putting this off on me. We both know that this is a fucking sham, my math skills aren’t fucking great, I can't persuade anyone anything for shit, and you need someone who will fight your political battles, who will balance your budgets, who will find great recruits, and who will actually take good photos when you pressure them into it -

“And we both know that is not me.”

[dutifullymadameashley]

Stonathan Fanfiction: A Study in Attraction: Chapter 5

The door opens and Steve is greeted by the warm, bewildered smile of Joyce Byers; this is more startling than it should be. In Steve’s world, parents are rarely home, let alone present and right now Joyce is both, her face happily surprised by his arrival, her voice friendly and curious. “Steven! Come on in! Is Jonathan expecting you?”

As she’s closing the door behind him, Steve catches her stealing a quick glance in the direction of the driveway. He knows that she expects to see Nancy in the passenger seat of his BMW. Finding the car vacant, Joyce gives him a bemused look, but says nothing.

Steve has arrived a half-hour ahead of schedule hoping that he and Jonathan could fool around for a bit before heading out, but Joyce and her cheerful interrogation have thrown him off balance. He’s stammering something about grabbing a bite to eat just as Jonathan strolls into the living room.

His blond hair is towel-dried and unkempt, his slender frame clad in faded black jeans and a white T-shirt that clings to his chest and shoulders where the skin is still damp. He stops short when he sees Steve. “You’re early."

Harrington cocks an eyebrow, bites his lower lip and gives Jonathan an approving once-over that says, “Oh no, Jonny-boy, it looks as though I’m right on time.” The non-verbal message is received; Jonathan blushes and looks away to hide a pleased smile. It’s a perfect moment until Steve remembers that Joyce has witnessed the whole exchange.

“Well,” she says, breaking the awkward silence. “Have a good time, whatever you get up to.” Steve can’t bring himself to look at her, but he can easily envision the knowing grin on her face as she wanders out of the room, leaving the boys to exchange a look of wide-eyed relief.

***********

Steve is about to turn the key in the ignition but thinks better of it and places a hand on his date’s knee, leaning in for a kiss. Jonathan scowls, gesturing towards the house with a slight nod, and Harrington retreats with a sigh. “Your mom’s pretty nosy, huh?”

“She’s protective, if that’s what you mean.” Jonathan’s terse correction reminds Steve to tread carefully around the topic of Byers’ family.

When he starts the car, the radio is blasting “Love is a Battlefield” at full volume and Steve moves to turn it down. Jonathan does one better, producing a cassette tape from the pocket of his jacket and inserting it into the player just as Pat Benetar is launching into her overwrought chorus. The tape hisses for a few seconds before a sharp, jangly guitar fills the space; soon a lilting falsetto begins to croon. I would go out tonight but I haven’t got a stitch to wear… It is unlike anything Steve has ever heard, and he likes it immediately.

“Do you always carry a mix tape for hijacking the car stereos of others?”

“Top 40 radio makes my ears bleed. Besides, if you’re going to insist on driving, I insist on not being tormented by garbage pop rock.”

It’s true that Steve had been adamant about picking Jonathan up at his house rather than meeting downtown as they had for their cinema rendezvous. He reasoned that the evening would feel more like a date that way.

They pulled into the parking lot of Hawkins’ only pizzeria, and secured the last spot. “It’s pretty busy,” Jonathan observed, glancing around. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Harrington shut off the car. “Byers, we can’t sneak around all the time. No one will even notice us, provided that you can resist the urge to put your tongue down my throat between bites of garlic bread.”

“Ew. Shut up.”

“What, you don’t like garlic bread?”

Exasperated silence.

“Because I know you like putting your tongue in my mouth…”

Jonathan lunges at him as if to throw a punch, but instead grabs Steve’s jacket by the shoulder, pulling him in for a brief hot kiss then drawing back with a grin. “You talk shit just so I’ll shut you up, don’t you?”

Harrington shrugged. “What can I say? Guilty as charged.”

*************

They are seated in a corner booth of the restaurant, a large room dimly lit by old-fashioned stained glass lamps hanging low over each table. Jonathan fidgets with the straw in his cola, his eyes ceaselessly shifting around the space. Steve wants nothing more than to reach out and take his hand; it’s frustrating that, under the circumstances, a gesture intended to give comfort would only aggravate his companion’s anxious state.

“Hey,” he says softly, and Byers turns to him with a stricken look. “Everything’s cool, alright? As far as anyone else is concerned, we’re just a couple of guys out for pizza.” Then, dropping his voice to a whisper, he adds, “Nobody here has any idea about the things that went through my mind when I saw you in that wet T-shirt.”

Jonathan smiles in spite of himself. “What kinds of things?”

“Let’s just say that if your mom hadn’t been home, I would have…eaten this whole pizza by myself.” The waitress’ arrival interrupts Steve’s salacious chatter, and a tray of pepperoni pizza is set down between them.

They eat in silence until Steve gets bored. “You see, the thing I don’t get,” he remarks, around a mouthful of crust, “is that I thought you were one of those guys who didn’t give a shit what people thought of you, and now here you are more worried about it than I am.”

“You don’t know what it’s like to have been called a queer since before you even knew the meaning of the word,” Jonathan muttered.

“Well, you clearly haven’t met my father,” Steve pointed out, taking a swig of the beer the waitress brought without carding him. “That asshole never misses an opportunity to tell me that I style my hair like a faggot.”

“Christ, it sounds like your dad and my dad should get together and share a pizza,” Jonathan smirked. “Lonnie’s convinced that no ‘real man’ hates baseball, so naturally I’m a big disappointment.”

Steve gasped in mock outrage. “Wait – you hate baseball? I don’t think this is going to work out. I mean, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“Not everyone can swing a bat like you, Steve Harrington.” Jonathan’s tone is unexpectedly playful.

“Byers, are you flirting with me?”

There is a bold look in Jonathan’s enigmatic brown eyes, a sexy smirk playing on his lips. In a surprise reversal of roles, Steve is blushing.

*************

Jonathan refuses to be walked to the front door, flouting Steve’s attempt at dating etiquette with a sneer. Instead they sit in the car, trying to discern if the darkened windows of the Byers’ residence mean that Joyce is asleep or that she is spying. Steve yawns, stretches and brings one arm to rest across Jonathan’s shoulders; it’s an old trick, but it works, and Byers relaxes into his touch.

He draws Jonathan close, holding his shy gaze and tracing a path along the blond’s cheekbone with his thumb. When Steve speaks, his voice is barely a whisper. “You have no idea how gorgeous you are, do you?”

Byers doesn’t roll his eyes, or make a snarky comment. He just smiles, turning up the volume on the mix tape that has been a mere murmur in the background. Joan Jett’s “Crimson & Clover.” The raw guitar and laconic vocal provide a raunchy backdrop as Jonathan plants a gentle kiss on Steve’s mouth, and they soon strike a familiar rhythm, steaming up the windows of the BMW as the music vibrates around them.

Hands are beginning to wander, and Steve’s pulse is racing with anticipation but Jonathan suddenly pulls away, his eyes on the headlights turning into the driveway. “Shit! It’s the cops!” Harrington hisses, adjusting himself to hide his arousal.

“It’s Hopper,” Jonathan mumbles, zipping up his jacket and moving to exit the vehicle.

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“No, it isn’t. Look, I’ve gotta go.” With a warm glance and a nod, Jonathan gets out of the car. Steve promises to call just as Byers is closing the door. Hopper has gotten out of his truck, and Steve watches with some curiosity as the two men enter the house together.

Harrington is about to back out of the driveway when he remembers the mix tape in his cassette deck. He hits ‘eject’ and examines the tape closely in the moonlight, his heart skipping when he reads the label, written in Jonathan’s neat hand: “For Steve, This Charming Man.”

[coyotedoesrpmemes]

🐺Left Boy -”Permenant Midnight”  - Sentence Starters

“you’re still clutching that bottle of wine like it’s the fucking essence of your heart and mind,” “I ain’t got no time to listen to your stories,” “I’ll show you how I feel if you ever needed proof,” “I’m tired as always,” “I don’t wanna fall back on all that,” “That’s just a thing I can’t do for her,” “I don’t know what I been told, I’ma do this ‘til I get old,” “You better watch your back, cause the guys want money and the girls want cash,” “Alright, fuck this line, Imma cut this shit,” “What do you want, man, what’s your deal?” “I’m about to have a panic attack,” “Imma have to go and hijack a machine,” “I don’t think imma make it home tonight” “A dude like me is always gonna get through,” “Hit ‘em with the Hebrew, Mazel Tov to you,” “Just gimme one day, I’ll teach them girls how to chill,” “Let’s make love, I never wanna fight,” “It looks like I’m about to get in trouble,” “I like your skinny jeans better when they’re laying on the ground,” “I think we vibed, girl,” “Whatever, I know you been working hard,” “I don’t mean to make you feel that way, I be on my grind all day,” “I wanna get you whatever you please,” “No woman in this world is more deserving than you,” “You’re the best, I swear,” “Work is a bitch and me and her don’t get along,” “I know if I don’t get up nothing ‘round here’s gonna be better,” “I’m at home, up all night, all alone most of the time,” “Why do I do this shit?” “Who’s that kid? Looks like shit,” “Gimme some good weed in the motherfucking hot tub,” “You always see it all differently, you’re wonderful,” “That’s why I fall in love with you every time I see you,” “Every time you hold my hand I want to kiss you on the lips,” “Hoping that I’m what’s on your mind,” “Mom I’m scared I might go out and change,” “I can feel the pressure building up, people thinking I’m something I’m not,” “I need to be the star that they’re expecting to see, I hope it doesn’t ruin me,” “It’s a little more than I expected, I’m fucking terrified,” “I know I’m fuckin’ good, ‘cause I’m doing so much better than they thought i would.” “I can’t say no ‘cause this is the dream,” “I don’t wanna be stoned no more,” “I don’t wanna be what you turned me into,” “Don’t blame me ‘cause I did what you never thought I could,” “You made me feel I was supposed to be,” “I don’t think I’m gonna be there to do it,” “I’m not the man you need,” “They shouldn’t have told me where to find you,” “I think she might be the one that’s right for me,” “Fuck being alone, let’s go back together,” “Put your trust in me, cause I really like what you let me see,” “You made a mess of me, and it’s fucking wonderful,” “This girl thinks that I’m famous, I’m famous for the night,” “You can be my girl for the rest of the night, but I’ma be a stranger for the rest of your life,” “It’s just a little bit of partying, and it’s just cocaine,” “I’ve had it all, it’s hard to stop,” “I thought I know it all, can’t get my facts straight,” “She’s asking me to stop, but I can’t wait.”