#also yes i do think Wes wears heels. no i will not elaborate or change my mind

[redysetdare]

Silly little mime guy.

bonus:

[mshalfemptygirl]

The Prince Agent (S.R)

Plot: Reader is called to help Spencer with a case and things get too cute.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Dr!Fem!Reader

Contents: Really quicky mention to kidnapping and lots of fuffy

A/N: guys it’s my first fic, so let me know if you guys liked it, if you need a part 2. There are some translations at the end for you to understand the fic. Just give support and love. Thank you very much. Enjoy! 

I never knew exactly where linguistics was going to take me, but this is too much. I was at the police station, dressed an updated version of what it was meant to be Mary Stuart all because I helped my teacher with an Scotch Language Class this afternoon. You know, I'm in the postdoctoral program and sometimes we need to help our teacher and that's mean look ridiculous when they ask you to do a "favor" to them. So, I'm here, next to the door, feeling lost and angry for not have time to change my outfit. They said that just need to find an Agent called Dr. Spencer Reid to translate a little girl who was saved by the team. It gonna be easy, but no.

I notice that there is a man looking at me, he’s next to bullpens with some paper in his right hand. He is tall and very handsome by the way. In fact, he's wearing a tie that makes him look really HOT but I can't think about those things at such a delicate moment like this, I need to focus. I walked towards him, looking at the floor because in addition to the long dress, I was wearing high heels and I didn't want to embarrass myself in the middle of the police station. When I stopped in front of him, he put the papers on the table and gave me a small smile.

“Excuse me, where can I find Dr. Spencer Reid?” I returned the smile, wishing it was him.

“Well, right here. I’m Dr Spencer Reid, nice to meet you. You should be Dr. Y/N L/N. Or maybe Princess Y/N L/N?” he give me a big smile. “Can you follow me?” I felt my face burn, he was making fun of me and it made me a thousand times more nervous. I start follow him to the hallway with many rooms, the walls were white and light blue, there is a clock on the wall.

“Sorry, I didn’t have time for change. And It supposed to be Mary Stuart. So it’s Queen Y/N L/N”. He nodded while he run his hand over his hair. He stopped to think about something. Even nervous, I can't take my eyes off him. “Did you know that Mary became Queen of Scots at only six days of age and Mary’s last night was spent drafting an elaborate will in which all her servants were remembered. On the day of her execution, she appeared in her customary black cloak and with a white veil over her head and she then dropped the cloak to reveal a crimson red dress?” he ask me, I can see the excited in his face. I couldn't help but smile big, he's so endearing, so cute. I think he's trying to make me more comfortable.

“Yes!!! And she also was the first woman to practice golf in Scotland. She even caused a scandal when she was seen playing the game at St Andrews within days of her husband Darnley's murder. She was a such badass, I like her” I said. Then I remember about the little girl, they must have been in a hurry to help her. “But Dr. Reid, changing the subject, can we talk about the little girl? What you want me to do?” the expression on his face changed from a happy face to a worried one.

He explained to me that she was only 6 years old, she is physically fine and she was rescued from a kidnapping a few hours ago, they couldn't find her family and they couldn't ask her questions because she only speaks Portuguese. That's why they called me. It looks like his team has been looking into this possible unsub for months. Well, now I'm more relieved to be dressed like this, she deserves a good time in the middle of this chaos, I hope she likes princesses. Doctor Reid will walk me into the room so I can be the bridge between him and Mila.

I was the first to enter the room, there were some children's things on a table in the corner of the room. In the center of the room was a shaggy green rug and a table. Mila was drawing on the table, she had her back to me, focused on drawing and there is another blonde woman in the room with her, it must be another agent. She got up and wished him good luck. I looked at him and he nodded for me to start.

"Oi Mila, me falaram que tinha uma princesa por aqui” ¹ she looked at me and took to give me a hug. She got really excited saying several things at the same time, I sat with her on the floor and she played with my hair. That's when she realized that Dr. Reid was in the room and her face was etched with fear. “Mila, ele não vai te fazer mal, ele é muito legal! Sabe, o nome dele é Spencer e ele é meu principe. Ele é meu cavaleiro que me protege de coisas ruins e ele protege princesas como você também. Então ele não vai te fazer mal. Okay?” ²

She waved at me and I gave her a smile. I called Spencer over and he sat on the other side of the table. I translated for him what I said to her and it was like that for 40 minutes. Mila was no longer afraid of him, she gave as much information as possible about the man who took her and she also talked about her family. When she was scared, she squeezed my hand really tight and I told her that everything was going to be alright. Now, she going to draw two drawings for us. “Y/N, I will pass the information for Agent Garcia so she can start the search. You helped a lot. Thank you. Can you stay with her?" I nodded to him. “Mila, diz “Bye, Spencer”, ele precisa ir agora” ³.

“NÃO! Ele tem que dar um presente para você. Ele é seu principe, não é? Vocês tem que casar e viver felizes para sempre” ⁴ At that moment my heart beat faster. Holy shit, how was I going to translate this to him?! I can feel the presure. If I was avoiding embarrassing myself, now is the time. She was looking for something in the toy box, she walked to Spencer and gave him a plastic ring. She just pointed at the ring and then at me. We looked at each other not knowing what to do. I was in PANIC. “Spencer, I think she wants us to get married. You don’t have to. Sorry, I can explain to her that...”.  

“Oh, don't worry, I can give you the ring. Give me your left hand" I held out my hand to him and when he touched me I feel a good feeling. His hand are so soft. Looking right into Mila's face who seemed very happy with our misfortune. "Right, we are married. I’m married to a queen. I have to go now but can we talk after this, my lady?" he said after kissing the ring on my hand. Damn, he obviously has a hold on me."Yes, we can, Prince Agent Reid". Then I give him a smirk and he left the room. I show Mila my hand, she was happy for the first time in days and I was thinking how lucky I would be if this fairytale were true.

1 Hi Mila, someone told me there was a princess around here.

2 Mila, he won't hurt you, he's really nice! You know, his name is Spencer and he's my prince. He is my knight who protects me from bad things and he protects princesses like you too. So he won't hurt you. OK?.

3 Mila, say “Bye Spencer”, he needs to go.

4 NO! He has to give you a gift. He's your prince, isn't he? You have to get married and live happily ever after.

[kimmysurveyblog]

33

Has anyone ever made fun of your taste in music? Maybe?

What’s your favorite season of the year? Autumn.

Do you have pop-tarts in your house right now? Nope.

Is anyone’s birthday coming up? Kinda. My daughter is beginning of April.

Does someone owe you over twenty dollars? No.

Do you remember who you liked in grade eight? No I don't.

When was the last time you burned any part of your body? Not badly but today I burnt my finger on a frying pan.

Have you ever overflown a bathtub? No.

Are you dressing up for Halloween this year? I might.

Have you ever called somebody dollface? No.

If I gave you ten dollars, what would you spend it on? A cold brew.

Have you ever thrown food at a stranger in a movie theater? Nope.

What are you most excited about right now? Taking my Grandma out for dinner on Saturday.

Does / did either of your parents serve in the military? No. My mom's brother and father did.

Are you somewhat of a perfectionist? Not really.

Do you like sour candy? Yes.

Where would you like to go on your honeymoon? I just asked my boyfriend and we discussed it. Iceland!

Do you have Verizon? No.

What do you do to stay awake when you’re tired? Coffee.

Are all nighters something you have grown used to? Absolutely not. Those days are behind me lol!

Do you usually wear sunglasses when you’re driving? I don't drive.

Do you wear your shoes around the house? Nope.

Is there ever a time that you enjoy cold showers? Nooo.

What clothes are you most comfortable in? Baggy sweater/tshirt and sweatpants. I'm a SAHM so I live in that attire.

Is there anybody you’re not ashamed to tell anything to? My boyfriend and one of my best friends.

What has changed most about you in the past year? Two really bad things have happened to me in the last year. I think what changed is that I've become a stronger person than I ever dreamed possible. I'm also feeling very confident in my abilities as a mom.

Are you good at painting nails? Nope.

Smoothies or slushies? Smoothies.

Are you good at filling silence in awkward situations? No.

Ignoring nutrition, could you live off veggies for the rest of your life? No. I like carbs.

Elaborate on a way you have volunteered? I've not done much of that.

Do you use a full length mirror daily? No. Special occasions only. We have one tucked away behind my daughter's bookcase.

Can you walk in heels, or do you feel awkward in them? I don't feel awkward.

Any TV shows you sit down weekly to watch? Nooo not anymore.

Does anybody know about your sex life other than your partners? Not really? I'm sure I've discussed it with girlfriends.

Even if you don’t like politics, do you still have opinions on the issues? Yes!

Are you one to sneak food into movie theaters? I have done it but don't anymore.

Will you tell someone if there’s something in their teeth? Yes.

Do you ever actually make your bed? I do not.

Do you make an effort to eat healthy? I've been making more of an effort lately. We're 1.5 months into 2024 and I'm kinda keeping up with my resolutions.

How are things between the person you like / love / are with? Wonderful! We're doing really well lately.

Where did you sleep last night? In my bed.

The last time you kissed someone, what color of shirt were they wearing? Black.

What kind of booze did you last take shots of? Whiskey.

What’s something you want to purchase next time you’re at the mall? Books for my daughter, always.

Has someone of the opposite sex ever told you that you were sexy? Yes.

If you could see any musician live, front row, who would you choose? Paul McCartney.

If you had to choose between a million dollars or to be able to change a regret? Money.

Are you taller than your mom? Yes.

Have you ever been around someone who was high? I was a stoner for several years. Definitely yes.

Do you prefer to take your showers at night or in the morning? Afternoon.

Think back to June. Were you in a relationship? Yup.

What’s so special about what you’re wearing? Nothing at all.

Do you have any ‘naughty’ photos on your phone? Yes.

Could you handle living with a male roommate? My boyfriend lol.

What were you doing at 10:00 this morning? Going for a walk with my daughter.

Why aren’t you texting the last person you kissed? He's beside me changing the water in one of our fishtanks.

Do you think anyone has feelings for you? I know they do.

What do you miss the most about your past? I've lost a lot of loved ones. I miss them being alive.

When is the next time you will kiss someone? Later tonight.

Has anyone taken their shirt off in front of you? Yes.

Plan on getting drunk or high tonight? No.

In the past week, have you cried hysterically? Yes.

Do you think you’ll actually live a happy life with somebody? For sure.

Are you on birth control? No.

Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night? No.

Last time you were really happy? One month ago.

Do you tend to fall for players? Nope.

Why aren’t you in ‘love’ with your last ex? Ancient history.

Have you ever asked a boy for advice? All the time.

Are you wrapped in a blanket? Nope.

Did you get a full 8 hours of sleep last night? I think so.

Have you spoken to your mother today? Father? Both of them have passed away. I lost my mom just a month ago. It still truly doesn't feel real. I talked to her every single day.

[talesofarcadia78]

Our Time || One shot

Summary: Douxie’s remembering the good old times. 

Warnings: angst, mention of character death, that's it I think?

Word count: 1,735

Everything was set. The lanterns were hung up on the trees nearby, providing light to Douxie for the night. The campfire was crackling just a couple of feet away from the round dining table and chairs that Douxie had set up not too long ago. The plates were also ready on the table, waiting to be filled with food.

Douxie magicked up a bouquet of roses, and placed them in the vase that was in the middle of the table.

Suddenly, he heard a twig snap behind him. He quickly spun around, staff and bracelet ready, only to see Archie looking up at him in his cat form.

"You seriously thought that I was danger?" Archie questioned with an eyebrow raised.

Douxie magicked his staff away and deactivated his bracelet, "Hehe… yes."

Archie rolled his eyes at his familiar's response, "Do you not remember that you put a ward around this whole area?"

Douxie just shrugged and went back to doing last minute preparations.

After a few minutes of silence, Archie cleared his throat to gain Douxie's attention.

"Yes, Arch?" Douxie asked, turning his gaze to the cat.

Archie pointed to the two figures in the distance heading towards them.

Douxie's eyes widened at how time flew by quickly. He didn't even have time to get changed!

He quickly got behind a tree and used a spell he had recently learned, and changed into a black dress shirt (sleeves rolled up of course), black pants and shoes, keeping his signature skull necklace.

He stepped out from the tree to see Archie fly away. His eyes wandered around until they landed on both you and Jim getting closer. You were wearing a stunning black A-line lace dress that went down to your knees with half laced sleeves and beige heels.

You were blindfolded as Douxie had requested Jim to do to you so you had a surprise.

Douxie could hear you complain to Jim how you didn't like being blindfolded. Jim just rolled his eyes at your antics and told you that all would be revealed in a matter of moments.

Douxie walked up to you two siblings and took you from Jim.

"Thank you, Jim. I'll take her from here," Douxie smiled and took your shoulders.

"No problem, Doux! Tell me the end result!" Jim waved and walked off.

"Douxie, where in the world am I?" you asked.

"Shhh. Be patient, love. All will be revealed," Douxie reassured.

After a few moments, the blindfold on your eyes was taken off.

You took in your surroundings. The trees were decorated with lanterns, a dining table was set and a campfire was already lit. Everything was beautiful.

You spun around to see Douxie holding out a rose for you to take, which you, without a doubt, accepted.

"Shall we, m'lady?" Douxie inquired, holding his arm out.

You nodded and you let him take you to the table.

~~~~~

Douxie had prepared f/f for dinner, and for dessert, an apple pie.

Now, the two of you were quietly sitting on a blanket at the campfire, leaning on each other.

"Love?" Douxie asked.

You hummed in response, letting him know he had your attention.

"Remember the first time we met? I had spilled a drink on the ground in the cafe and you rushed to help," Douxie remembered.

"Yeah," you nodded, memories flooding back.

~~~~~

You anxiously tapped your feet on the ground, waiting for your order to arrive.

You were in a big rush.

Mom had called to tell you that Jim was in the hospital. You knew that he was the Trollhunter, so he had gotten a lot of injuries, though, he didn't need to go to the hospital to get them treated, so you knew that this was serious.

Abruptly, you heard a crash from behind you. You turned around to see a drink had spilled all over the floor. The waiter was already on his knees, trying to clean it up.

You got up from your seat and ran over to help him. You kneeled in front of the guy to hear him faintly say, "Fuzzbuckets". You saw a faint sky blue spark come from his hand.

A wizard.

You placed a hand on his arm, making him look up into your e/c eyes. You mouthed ‘no’ and shook your head, telling him not to perform the spell. He stopped and sighed before cleaning up the mess the old fashioned way with your help.

After helping him, you returned to your seat.

Just when you were about to leave, getting fed up of the wait, the same waiter you had helped rushed up to you, order in hand.

"Hey! You were the one who helped me with the spill a couple of minutes ago, right?" he asked.

"Yeah," you nodded and then added quietly, "And the one who stopped you from using magic as a shortcut."

You smiled and took your order from him. You headed out but got stopped by the same guy.

"Hey, I never got your name. I'm Hisirdoux Casperan, but you can call me Douxie," Douxie winked and held out his hand for a handshake.

"Y/n, Y/n Lake," you replied, shaking his hand. "I'm really sorry, but I really need to go."

He nodded understandingly and waved goodbye.

As you walked to the hospital, you opened the bag that had your food in it, as well as a note. You took it out and read it:

Hey, stranger, who I probably got the name of!

I was wondering if you would grab a bite with me tomorrow at the cafe. 4 pm sharp.

Don't be late.

Yours truly,

Hisirdoux Casperan.

You smiled. You had finally found a fellow magic wielder.

~~~~~

"Then, the time when Jim got a bit overprotective of you when you were at the bookstore."

"A bit?"

"Okay, extremely overprotective of you."

~~~~~

The sun was shining high in the sky, your hair moving along with the gentle breeze, and a nice cup of coffee in your hands while you and Jim made your way to GDT Arcane Books.

Jim opened the door to reveal Archie, Douxie's familiar lying on the ground near the fireplace.

"Hey, Archie!" you greeted.

"Hello," Archie called.

You turned your attention away from the cat and to Jim, who was looking around in suspicion.

"Jim, what is it now?" you asked, placing your hand on your brother's shoulder.

"It's just… why does this store seem so… magical?" Jim inquired.

"Because a magical being owns the bookstore," you replied.

Jim nodded in response.

"Hello!" a new voice spoke.

You turned around to see Douxie coming out of the back. From the corner of your eye, you saw Jim's gaze harden at the sight of the wizard. He pulled you a bit closer to him.

Overprotective brother mode switched on.

"Hey, Doux. Did you call us in for some help?" you inquired.

"Yep! There's only so much a 900 year old wizard can do by himself," Douxie nodded.

Douxie told you and Jim what he needed help with.

Jim was sent off to get some supplies from around town, to his dismay. He wanted to keep an eye on you and Douxie, but alas, he had to go shopping.

Before Jim had left, you heard him send a death threat to Douxie.

"Don't do anything funny with my sister, Casperan. I won't hesitate to slice your head off with Daylight."

Your eyes widened. You knew Jim didn't like Douxie, but you didn't know that he hated him so much to actually threatened him.

Geez. He's way too overprotective.

You made your way over to Douxie as soon as Jim left the store.

"Don't mind him. He's just overprotective," you told Douxie.

"Uh-huh," Douxie nodded slowly.

~~~~~

"We know each other so well, made so many wonderful memories, we've spent so much time together," Douxie sighed. "And I want to spend more time with you."

You turned your head towards him, silently asking him to elaborate.

Douxie moved away and got up. He lent you his hand, which you accepted and followed suit. He took a deep breath and got down on one knee.

"Y/n, love, we've been through so much together. Good and bad. Sad and happy. And I'll continue to. You made me the most happiest man when you became my girlfriend and I thought I couldn't be any happier. But today may prove me wrong," Douxie expressed.

You gasped and clasped your hand over your mouth as Douxie took out a golden ring with embroidery and held it out.

"Y/n Lake… make me the happiest man in the world. Will you marry me?"

You had tears in your eyes at this point. Douxie looked at you with hope, love, admiration, and so much more as he waited for your answer.

"Yes."

Douxie's eyes lit up like a child on Christmas morning, and quickly got up. He grabbed your waist and brought you close. He leaned down and softly kissed you as he slipped the ring onto your finger.

~~~~~

Douxie stared at the photo of you two on your wedding day. You were wearing a short lace white dress and beige ankle strap heels and Douxie was wearing a white dress shirt, black tuxedo, black tie, black pants and a rose attached on the left as you two stood in front of each other, hand in hand while Douxie was kissing your forehead.

Douxie placed the photo back and glanced down at his wedding ring. It was simple, a silver band with swirl embroidery as you had the same, but gold. He remembered the feeling of your hand in his. Your giggling. Everything. But alas, ever since you had passed in battle, he couldn't seem to bring any of those memories back.

Tears formed in Douxie's eyes as he remembered the good times.

Suddenly, the door opened to reveal Jim and Claire.

"Hey, Teach. What were you--" Claire started before she noticed the tears streaming down his face.

Douxie wasn't going to cry but as soon as he saw the wedded couple, he couldn't help himself.

Jim and Claire rushed over to Douxie and enveloped the wizard in a hug, attempting to comfort him. He sobbed into Jim's chest as Jim ran his hand through his hair and Claire rubbing Douxie's back.

Nothing was going to be the same without you.

[albertasunrise]

Just Another Conquest - Part 1

Masterlist

Warnings: You were sweet, innocent and completely infatuated with Javier Peña. After an incident at the Christmas party, you become the talk of the secretary's at the embassy and everything starts falling around you.

Pairings: Javier Peña x Reader, Reader x Original Male Character

Warnings: Angst, Kissing, Mentions of sex

Notes: There are some touchy subjects at the end of this chapter. If you’re easily triggered this might not be for you. Don’t wanna add too many tags as it’ll spoil it.

For two years you had worked at the embassy as a secretary. You kept your head down and your nose out of trouble and so no one noticed you.

Except Greg.

Greg was sweet. You’d been on a few dates and you were taking it steady. Too many times you had jumped in headfirst into the flames and gotten burned so this time you were going to take things slow, Glacial, but Greg didn’t seem to mind. Greg was sweet.

Someone who wasn't sweet.

Javier Peña.

He had bedded most of the single or unmarried secretaries in the embassy. Even some of the married ones. He flirted with everyone. Well everyone except you and even though that stung a little you were glad. He couldn’t tarnish you if he couldn’t see you.

You’d been infatuated with the man from day dot at the embassy. He was a smooth talker and painfully handsome but you knew you weren’t his type. You were plain, a little on the chubbier side and uninteresting. You'd seen some of the women he’d slept with. Your apartment was across from his and they were all beautiful. The polar opposite of you.

It was the day of the Christmas office party. An event you looked forward to as it gave you a chance to dress up a little. Greg had bought you a stunning dress for the event, something you’d spotted in the window of a shop one day and told him you liked it. He’d managed to find out your size and had snuck back to buy it for you and you had swooned. No one had done anything like that for you before.

The dress fit perfectly. Highlighted all the right parts of you and for once you actually felt pretty. You did some simple makeup, pinned your hair up in a loose bun and wore the only pair of heels you could walk in. Greg was there to collect you when you were done, his jaw dropping to the floor when you emerged from your apartment building and you chuckled at his reaction. You both then got a taxi to the embassy and he had been unable to keep his eyes off of you or his lips from yours. Maybe tonight was the night that you’d let him into your bed.

You arrived a short while later and made your way inside, people excitedly bussing around you as you made your way to where the party was being held. The hall in the embassy had been decorated in traditional American fashion. Tinsel, baubles and lights adorned the walls and a large, audacious, tree sat in the centre of the room with presents surrounding its base. You gazed around in awe of what you were seeing and Greg couldn’t stop watching at you.

Little did you know, neither could Javier Peña.

He had spotted you as soon as you’d entered. He had seen you around over the past few years but until now had never spared you a second glance. He watched you as you entered with Greg from accounts. He’d spoken to Greg a handful of times and he always seemed nice enough, if not a little dull. His attention was so stuck on you that he didn’t even hear Steve talking his ear off until his name was shouted in frustration. Pulling the agent from his fancy.

“Oh no, you leave that one alone.” Growled Steve when he noticed who Javier was staring at.

“What… why?”

“Because I know what you’re like and she’s sweet. She has worked hard to keep herself out of the limelight and you paying her any sort of attention will destroy that completely.” Stated Steve, downing that last of his drink as he watched you head to the bar with your companion “Besides she’s dating Greg anyway.”

“Greg’s dull.” Mumbled Javier and Steve barked out a laugh.

“Greg is nice and perfect for her.” Asserted the blonde agent “Leave her alone.” He warned and Javier simply rolled his eyes, waving his partner off as he stood.

‘Another.’ He asked as he lifted his empty glass and Steve nodded before turning his head to seek out his wife in the bustle of people beside him.

Javier watched you as he approached the bar, taking you in as he came to a stop a few stools over. The dress you wore fitted your form beautifully, highlighting your small waist and larger breasts. You had a perfect hourglass figure and he practically salivated at the sight, wanting nothing more than to worship every inch of you but you were forbidden fruit. Which made it all the harder to resist you.

You hadn’t noticed Javier watching you but Greg had and he felt resentment start to simmer beneath the surface of his skin. If Agent Peña had set his sights on you then he had no chance. No one could resist that man's charms. He was relieved however to see that you remained blissfully unaware of the man’s attentions so he did his best to keep yours on him.

“They’ve done a wonderful job with the decorations huh?” He spoke as he wrapped his arm around your waist and you nodded eagerly in reply “You’re the most beautiful thing here though.”

“Oh shush Greg.” You chuckled, you’d never been very good at taking a compliment.

“No seriously.” He said as he gazed longingly at you “These last few months have been… Well they’ve been wonderful and I know you want to take things slow and that’s fine. Just know that when you are ready, I will make sure to show you just how beautiful I think you are.”

You swooned at his statement but Javier scoffed and then as the narrative repeated in his mind he became intrigued. The two of you hadn’t slept together? How serious can you really be if you’ve never fucked? So he decided you were fair game. God help him, he was going to taste those lips before the night was done.

…

“Would you like another?” Javi asked you as he motioned to your empty glass.

You jumped at the sudden question, turning your head to see Javier Peña staring back at you. A mixture of thoughts and emotions rushed through you at once but the one that lingered was lust. The way the man opposite you was looking at you went straight to your core and you found you were losing yourself in his dark chocolate orbs.

“Oh uh… Yes please.” You fumbled, the shock of your current situation lingering.

“You look lovely.” He said sweetly as he motioned at the barman to refresh yours and his drinks “A little different to your usual get up.”

“How would you know what I usually wear?” You questioned, a little taken aback by his statement.

“I’ve seen you around.” He stated, shrugging his shoulders.

“Right.” You sniggered, taking a sip from your new drink “Thanks for the drink, Agent Peña.” You finished as you turned to leave only to be stopped by his hand grasping your arm.

“Call me Javi.’ He said softly as he smiled at you.

“Well, thank you again Javi but I must be getting back to my date.” Giving him a last nod you sauntered away, unable to miss the scowl plastered across Greg’s face.

“What did he want?” He asked as you came up beside him.

“He got me a drink.” You replied nonchalantly “That was all.”

“That isn’t all he wants from you.” He growled and your head shot back in shock at his change of tone.

“Greg, I am in no danger of attracting Javier Peña.” You snort, rolling your eyes at him.

“Have you seen how you look?” He snapped and you found yourself growing irritated.

“I have and I am not his type.” You spit “He’s only interested in slim, tall, perfect skinned beauties and I am none of those things Greg. You have nothing to worry about.”

Little did you know, he had plenty to worry about. As the evening went on the music started to die down and people began to say their goodnights, thinning the crowd down to the younger staff members of the embassy. Greg had remained possessive of you, noting how Javier would watch you as you danced with your friends or talked with other people from your department. He’d picked his prey and you were it. Greg, helpless to stop it.

“Would you like to dance Hermosa?” Came a deep voice from behind you and you shivered at the effect it had on you.

Turning you see Javier smiling down at you, his suit jacket long since discarded and tie also. He’d unfastened the top three buttons of his shirt and you couldn't help but lick your lips at the sight of his golden skin beneath. Then suddenly your brain caught up with the rest of you and you shook your head as you looked back up at the man that was towering over you.

“I shouldn’t.” You replied, shaking your head as you looked around nervously “I should get back to Greg.”

“Greg is stuck in a deep conversation with a bunch of other accountants.” He countered, taking one of your hands in his “Just one dance. Will be perfectly innocent I promise.”

You tried to find another reason to say no, anything, but you were coming up blank and so you were unable to resist when he pulled you gently towards the dance floor. The song was slow, soft and you glanced around at the other couples close to each other, slowly swaying to the music.

“Relax.” The agent whispered against the shell of your ear and you shivered,

“Why are you doing this Javi?” You questioned, looking up into his eyes.

“Doing what?” He asked with a mildly bemused expression on his face.

“This. Dancing with me, paying me any form of attention.” You elaborated and his brow furrowed “We both know I’m not your type so this isn’t some ploy to get me to sleep with you, or at least I hope it's not. You’ve never spoken to me before tonight so why? What’s this all about?”

“How do you know what my type is?” He questioned, dark eyes watching you closely.

“Because I live across the hall from you and so have seen many of your conquests leave. All thin and beautiful which I am not.” You chuckled to yourself, glancing at Steve who watched the two of you.

“Well firstly, I think you are beautiful.” He stated and you rolled your eyes “Really, you don’t believe me?”

“I believe you’re a smooth talker that’s good at getting women to fall in love with him.” He snorted at the, glancing at Steve a moment before returning his attention to you “I know I’m not beautiful.” You shrug “I came to terms with that a long time ago but I don’t like to be teased or played with. So if this is some sort of game or bet. Please don’t involve me.” You pleaded and Javier felt his heart ache a little that you’d think such a thing.

“This is no game Hermosa.” He said softly “I like you and I wanted to dance with you.” He continued, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek “That's all that is going on here.”

“You like me?” You questioned, unable to help the squeak in your voice.

He nodded as he smiled at you and then time seemed to stand still. Your eyes flitted to his lips as you gazed at each other, the world around you falling away as Javier Peña cupped your face and kissed you softly. You didn't react for a moment, shocked that this is even happening and then you responded, kissing him back as your hands gripped his wrists and when he pulled away, all eyes were on you.

“Can I take you home Hermosa?” He asked quietly as he gazed at you, smiling when you nodded in reply and then he was leading you out. Greg and the party were all forgotten.

…

“I hope you don’t expect me to sleep with you this evening.” You chuckled, smiling shyly at the man driving you.

“A man can always hope.” He replied, glancing at you a moment before returning his attention to the road.

“Well, I’m not that easy.” You stated, sticking your tongue out at him playfully which elicited a throating laugh from the agent "I like to be wooed first."

You loved his laugh. It brought you all new waves of pleasure to hear it but as your building seeped into view, along with a familiar-looking truck parked out front, the realisation hit you like a freight train.

“Oh my god.” You sobbed as you hopped out of his truck, clutching your middle as you cried.

“Hermosa what’s wrong?” Asked Javier, his tone panicked as he sprinted to your side.

“Greg.” You choked and he noticed you staring at the vehicle parked in front of his “I kissed you, and I left him there. What… Why would I do that?”

Javier pulls you into his arms, holding you as you cried over the relationship you know you had destroyed. He pulled you with him, taking you inside and into his apartment where he sat you down on his couch and poured you a drink.

“Thank you.” You hiccuped as you took the drink from him, staring at the glass as he sat beside you “I liked Greg.” You started, eyes not wavering from your glass “He was sweet. Liked me for me and I’d never had that before. All my previous boyfriends wanted one thing and I got burned so much I gave up on the idea that someone could want more with me.”

“You have to go through some hurt to find the right man.” Javier replied, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close “You’ll find him I’m sure. You deserve happiness.”

You sat there and talked for a little longer. Until your eyes were so heavy you could no longer keep them open and when Javier noticed you dosing off, he scooped you into his arms and carried you to his bed. He didn’t try anything. Just simply held you and it was the best sleep he’d had in years.

~

You had no idea you’d be the talk of the office when you returned from the holidays. Greg hadn’t spoken to you since that night and neither had Javi. You’d snuck out the next morning before he’d woken up, mortified that you’d fall asleep at his. You knew you hadn't had sex with him but you’d still slept with him and that brought on all kinds of different emotions. Did he like you the way you like him?

“So how was it?” Asked Kirsten as sat down at your desk, her eyebrows lifting.

“How was what?” You asked, your confusion evident in your features.

“Your hot night with agent Peña.” She elaborated and you almost choked on your coffee “You did fuck him right?”

“No, I didn’t.” You expelled, already feeling sick to the stomach at the realisation you were the talk of the office.

“Oh come on.” She rolled her eyes at your denial “No one goes home with Javier Peña without him having his way with them. You’re so lucky.” She sighed “Although poor Greg left with his tail between his legs. No one blames you for going to the better dish though… Javi is quite the meal.”

You abruptly grabbed your bag and stood from your chair, not stopping to pick it up as it clattered on the stone floor. All you could think about was getting out of there, and fast. You couldn’t miss the sniggering as you swiftly left the office, only to be stopped by two hands grabbing your shoulders.

“Woah what's up?” Asked Greg as he pulled you to the side.

“I uh… everyone's laughing at me.” You sobbed, eyes skirting around and catching peoples stares.

“What did you expect when you went home with Agent Peña.” He scoffed and you looked up at him with a broken expression “All those months clearly meant nothing to you as you dropped your panties for him the moment he called.”

“What? No… I didn’t sleep with him.” You assured, head shaking tears loose from your eyes “I swear to you I didn’t. He kissed me and that’s it.”

“Didn’t see you pushing him away.” He growled and your stomach sank “Despite what you pulled, I still care about you so I will have a word with the others. Just try to keep your head down from now on yeah?”

You nodded, sniffing as you watched him walk away but as you looked around you could see that everyone was still looking at you, talking about you.

You needed to leave.

Your sprinted to the elevators, uncaring of anyone else's attention and pressed the button vigorously, willing it to arrive. You didn’t even look when it opened, just shuffled inside and pressed the button for the parking level. You’d explain later why you’d left.

“Everything okay?” Came a soft Southern voice and you turned your head to see Steve beside you “Rough day?”

“Putting it lightly.” You replied, letting out a watery chuckle as you threw your head into your hands.

“I told Javi to leave you alone. Fucking prick.”

“No this is all my fault.” You sobbed as you looked up at him “Javi was sweet. I should really talk to him but today isn’t the day. Right now I need to go home and wallow.”

“Well, you can do that together if you like.” He chuckled and you looked at him in confusion “He ended up taking today off.

“Right.” You replied as you pulled your bag tighter over your shoulder as you exited the lift and headed towards your car.

Maybe you should speak to him today.

…

You’d more or less talked yourself out of it by the time you'd made it back to your apartment building. You pulled into your allotted parking spot, sprinted up the stairs and made it to your front door, only to be stopped by a familiar voice.

“What are you doing back?” He asked and you turned to face him, noting how his brows were drawn together in concern.

“I uh… Well, let's just say I’m the talk of the office.” You replied plainly as you pulled out your key, desperate to escape this inevitable conversation.

“Why?” He asked and you looked at him again in amazement.

Did this guy seriously have no clue?

“Well, let's see Javi. I turned up at this year's Christmas party with Greg, the guy I was seeing and then left with you after you kissed me in front of all of our colleagues. Why do you think that I’m the subject for office gossip?” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you awaited his response.

“We didn’t sleep together thought?”

“They don’t know that” You replied, rolling your eyes at him “So that’s what everyone assumed happened. That I waited months to take that step with Greg but one kiss from you and I give you what you want.”

“I’m sorry Hermosa.” He replied, his eyes taking on a sad puppy dog quality that immediately had your anger melting away.

“Why aren’t you at work today Javi?” You questioned as your body language relaxed and you turned to put your key in the door.

“One of my informants died.” He announced and you immediately turned to look at him “She uh… Well, she was ratted in by one of her colleagues. We found her last night mutilated and raped.”

“Oh Javi, I’m… I’m so sorry.” You replied as you gave him a sympathetic look, your heart breaking from the pain that was so evident on his face “Did you want to come in?” You asked innocently and he nodded, taking the hand you offered and following you inside.

Little did you know that this time, you really would give Javi what he wanted. You talked, you consoled each other, you kissed and then finally when the kissing became heated and passionate you fucked him, allowing your own troubles to be dissolved by pleasure. You allowed yourself to lose yourself in him and he buried himself in you to escape himself but when all was done and you lay their sated in his arms you started to wonder.

Maybe he did like you.

~

It doesn’t take long for word to spread around the office that you had fucked Javier Peña now. Someone else who lived in the building overhearing your activities and telling the entire office the following day so when you’d turned up the following feeling more relaxed, it was quickly ripped away from you.

“So decided to skive off for a fantastic fuck with Javi Peña eh?” Kirsten asked as she winked at you, the colour completely draining from your face “You lying slut though. I knew you were shagging him.”

“I uh…”

“Oh no use in denying it, you were heard. You’re apparently pretty vocal in the sack.” She sniggered as the other girls in the office started to chuckle along with her “Oh Javi.” She mocked “Oh Javi yes… just there-“

You left before she could finish her berating, tears streaming down your cheeks as you made your way through the halls to the bathrooms in the hope you could cry alone in there but sure enough, you were not to be so lucky. Greg grabbed you as you tried to scurry past but there was no sympathy in those blue orbs anymore, nothing but anger.

“You fucking slut.” He growled, eyes burning you “I courted you for months. Treated you right and the first moment you get you fuck man whore Peña?” He spat and you flinched at his outburst “You just used me. Did you even fucking like me?”

“Yes, Greg.” You sobbed, fat tears flowing freely now “I did like you... I do even. I like you a lot, I swear I didn’t use you.”

“But you couldn’t resist opening your legs for Javier Peña.” He growled, snarling at you as he watched your face crumble “You know he doesn’t commit so good luck regaining any credibility you had here.” He finished, leaving you sobbing in his wake.

You quickly sprinted through the halls, people's mocking laughter filling your ears but you just pushed forward. You looked up a moment and that's when you caught eyes with him, the man from which all this trouble had stemmed from and you stopped, giving him a hopeful look as he grabbed your arm and pulled you to one side.

“What's the matter?”

“You seriously the only person in the embassy not to hear the latest gossip?” You asked, noticing the genuine confusion that spread across his face.

“We were heard Javi.” You explained, wiping your cheeks with your sleeves “Someone heard us and has told everyone.” You sobbed, face leaning into his hand as he cupped your cheek “But you can set everyone straight, tell them that this is different? I mean, it was different right?” You asked, eyes pleading for him to soothe your worries.

“Hermosa…” He trailed off as he dropped his hand and shook his head, your stomach dropping “Hermosa I-.”

“You said you like me.” You choked, eyes growing wide as you shook your head in disbelief “That I’m beautiful.”

“I do and you are.” He assured you “But I’m not a commitment guy.” He paused and you felt sick “What we did was just two friends comforting each other. Nothing more.”

You can’t believe it. How had you gone and done this again? You’d given yourself to someone body and soul only to be stomped on again. You were a fool and you knew it. There was never going to be a chance of Javier Peña want more than to bury himself in you. You were plain. Simple.

Ordinary.

You left without another word. Darting into the nearest bathroom where you emptied the contents of your stomach before crying yourself dry. When you did finally emerge you were called into your manager's office and were instantly told to take some time. You had some leave to take so they advised you to take it. Let the scandal die down a little. You couldn’t be the talk of the office forever.

So you do. You take the two months you accrued and you leave, numb the entire drive back to your apartment. You thought about going home, actually taking a vacation but then you’ve never been one for adventure. You don’t have anyone back home. No family or friends to speak of so you decide to spend it here. At home. Wallowing in your own self-pity.

~

2 months later…

Javier had noticed your absence and he’d also noticed that you never left your apartment. At least you never left it when he was around to see it. He knew you were due back today, one of the other secretaries informing him that your leave had ended so why weren’t you here? It wasn’t like you to be late. You were always in before most of the other office admins were, sipping your coffee as you went through your daily schedule.

No one else seemed to be worried about your absence. A few assuming you’d forgotten that you were due to come back but they were a little surprised when Agent Peña had started asking around for you. Everyone knew that things between you and him had crashed and burned, your very public refusal being the next hot topic for the weeks that followed. So when he came up short with your colleagues he went to your boss, his worry growing by the minute.

“I’m not sure why it matters to you where she is.” Stated your boss as they continued to skim through the paperwork in front of them “It’s because of you that she ended up taking leave.”

“I understand that but…”He paused a moment, trying to carefully plan what he needed to say “She lives opposite me. I’ve not seen her leave in two months or even heard a peep from her apartment. I know that her suffering is my doing but I do care about her well being.”

“Well, you should have thought about her well being before you dragged her name through the dirt.”

“Do you know where she is?” He growled, growing more and more impatient by the second.

“Yes, I do.” They replied plainly.

“So?”

“She’s in the hospital.” Javier’s eyes shot open, stomach dropping as he stared at the older woman across from him.

“What… what happened?” He asked although he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“I can’t tell you that.” She stated and he let out a frustrated sigh

“Is she at least going to be okay?”

“She’s in a bad way.” She paused as she finally placed the documents in her hands down “If you want to see her I can’t stop you. Just know… it is very likely that she won’t want to see you.”

She told the agent where you were and watched as he left, knowing that deep down he had a right to know what had happened to put you there.

…

A few flashes of his badge and he was soon led to your room, stopping the doctor as he left your room and demanding he be told what was wrong. He could see that you were sleeping inside and he felt himself ease a little seeing that you weren’t bloody and beaten. So what was wrong?

“She was poisoned.” The doctor explained in Spanish and Javier felt his anxiety shoot through the roof again.

“Poisoned?” He asked “How? By who?”

“By herself.” The doctor stated and Javier’s stomach dropped.

Had he really hurt you that badly?

“She tried to terminate her pregnancy using an old home remedy.” The doctor elaborated and Javier jumped at that.

“Pregnancy?”

“Yes.” The doctor nodded “She is around 2 months pregnant.”

Javier knew instantly it was his and a mixture of emotions coursed through him. Why had you not come to him? Why did you feel like this was the right thing to do? If there was a baby involved he would do what was right. You had to know that right?

“She is sedated.” The doctor continued “The baby survived. The remedy did not work but it did nearly kill her. She was hysterical when she arrived. Begging us to save it.” He paused, glancing at you before returning his attention to Javier “I don’t think she really wanted to get rid of it. She was just desperate and scared. She should be okay though. We will continue to monitor her and the baby. ”

Javier nodded before stepping aside so the Doctor could leave. His mind was racing as he stepped inside of your hospital room and taking a seat at your side. He would wait. Wait until you woke up and he would talk to you. He needed to understand why you did this. Why you felt you had no other option.

…

You were shocked to find Peña dosing in the chair beside your bed when you woke up. How did he even know you were here? Your head was pounding and your mouth dry so you turned your head to find the bottle of water a nurse had brought you earlier, only to knock it when you went to grab it. The agent woke instantly and you groaned in frustration. You didn’t need his lecture right now.

“Hey.” He said softly as he grabbed the bottle and opened it before bringing it to your lips “How are you feeling?”

You shrugged as you sipped the water, relishing how it soothed your sore throat and dry tongue. You nodded when you’d had your fill and watched as he screwed the lid back on and placed it back on the table.

“What are you doing her Javier?” You rasped and he flinched at your inquiry.

“I was worried about you.” He stated, sad eyes locking with yours “The doctor said you and the baby are going to be okay.” He said with a smile and your eyes started to water.

“So you know?”

“Yes.” He replied plainly “He also told me you tried to get rid of it.” He paused, stroking away a tear that escaped from your eye “Why?”

“Because I knew you wouldn’t want it.” You replied, lip trembling as you spoke “And I didn't want to raise it on my own.” You paused, watching him process your words before you go for the jugular “Besides, I was just another one of your conquests. Can't go tarnishing your record and I’ve destroyed my reputation enough. Having your baby will just destroy whatever integrity I have left.”

“So what are you going to do?” He asks, stomach twisting.

“I’m going to leave Javier.” You said plainly “I will leave and I will raise this baby on my own. No one will ever need to know you have a bastard child with one of your many whores. I want nothing from you so you can go now.”

“Hermosa I-“

“Leave.” You growled, angry tears staining your cheeks “I’m giving you the out you want. Take it.”

Part 2

[the-witty-pen-name]

Can’t Help Falling in Love

Loki x Reader (f) 

Valentine’s Day with the God of Mischief 

Based on suggestion by: @squadleaderchase​

A/N: Thank you so much for the suggestion! I loved writing this, it was so much fun! 

Happy Valentine’s Day y’all!

There is also a gender neutral version of this fic, and will be posted shortly after this one! Read it here! 

I recommend to putting on Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis towards the end just for that finishing touch! 

Summary: When Loki learns about the traditions of Valentine’s Day, he asks you to be his Valentine- and reluctantly takes advice from Steve Rogers. 

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: none; just fluff 

“Can’t Midgardians have a holiday that doesn’t involve such a grotesque display of… red?” Loki asks walking into the living room of the Avengers compound. Loki arrived at the compound a few weeks before Christmas and so far, he’s experienced two Earth holidays: Christmas and New Year’s. Of course, Tony had picked the theme for both parties to be elaborately red and gold- he claimed the fact that it matched his suit was merely a coincidence.

“Just wait until next month,” you reply casually, your eyes not leaving the brief you were reading while you sat cozied up in one of the large armchairs. “I think you’ll like St. Patrick’s Day much more… color scheme wise at least.”

Loki looked up curiously at the hearts of all shades of red and pink Natasha had hung up to decorate the Avengers’ living quarters. She had gone to visit Clint’s family and his kids spent hours making Valentines and decorations out of construction paper and glitter. Loki looked almost puzzled at the lopsided hearts that hung from the ceiling on transparent line so they looked like they floated mid-air.

“Perhaps I might,” he mumbled to himself, the lovesick aura of his surroundings making him slightly disgusted. “Though I suppose I find your rituals as bizarre as you’d find on Asgard.”

“Mhmm,” you mumbled in response to his thinking out loud. It was rare that the compound would be this quiet. It was a Friday evening and in the middle of a team meeting earlier today, Tony declared exhaustedly that everyone needs to start the weekend early and dismissed everyone despite Steve’s protests. You weren’t sure where everyone else went and you didn’t particularly care- enjoying the rare peace and quiet.

You didn’t mind Loki’s company. He was a little aloof but overall, you found him more to be misunderstood than anything else. He wasn’t like Thor and sure, he had a very trouble ridden past to downplay it- but he’s confided in you all it wasn’t entirely his doing. Out of everyone living at the compound, he probably had grown the closest to you, or as close as Loki would allow himself to be to someone.

“What even is this holiday?” Loki asked, pulling his attention from the decorations to where you sat, binder in your lap. You looked up and closed the brief, tossing it onto the coffee table in front of where you sat.

“Sunday is Valentine’s Day,” you say looking back over to him, meeting his eyes. “I mean overtime the traditions and how we celebrate have changed but it’s originally the day meant to honor St. Valentine and commemorate his death. There’s a lot more to it than that and there’s all different of different origins, but now it’s more like a day where you celebrate love, because he was the patron Saint of Love.”

Loki nods, liking the idea of this holiday much more than New Years already. He didn’t mind Christmas, but the elaborate parties made everything not very appealing to him. You can’t blame the god for not having a good time at parties where every guest fears him or hates him. He walks over and takes a seat on the couch and crosses his legs. He was intrigued enough to continue the conversation and ask you more questions. “What are the traditions?” He asks curiously.

“Traditionally, you would ask someone to be your Valentine, and that’s the person you want to spend the day with,” you answer with a small shrug, trying to explain a holiday you’ve never had to explain before. “Some people have it easy and they ask their significant other, and if you don’t have one, you ask someone you’re romantically interested in to be your Valentine. Then you give each other gifts, like chocolates or flowers, anything really that’s romantic and you go out on a date, like a nice dinner but it doesn’t have to be. That’s the basic gist.”

“Thank you, (y/n),” Loki said, mulling over your explanation. “You’ve been helpful, as always. Tell me, who’s your Valentine?”

“I don’t have one,” you answered honestly. The only time you really celebrated was when you had been with someone. You’d never really participated otherwise. You planned to just spend the night alone or with Nat if she also didn’t have plans and probably watch a movie- most definitely Pride and Prejudice.

“Shame,” Loki said with a tsk. “Perhaps, if you would be interested, you could be my Valentine?”

“Really?” you ask, honestly surprised.

“I actually like the idea of the day,” Loki shrugged. “And I don’t know many people, people seem to hate me on this planet- no idea as to why. You’ve always been kind to me, and you are the most tolerable person I’ve encountered on this planet.”

“That’s oddly very kind of you,” you say with a chuckle. “I appreciate the sentiments. Um, yes. I’d be happy to be your Valentine.”

“Excellent,” he grinned. He clapped his hands together and stood up. “Splendid. I’ll ask Thor to help me plan something.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” you smile, picking up your paperwork again as Loki heads off to find his brother.

***

“Brother,” Thor’s voice echoed in the training room. “Spar with me?”

“As much as I would love to,” Loki said sarcastically, “I need your help with something I need to plan.” Loki walked over to the side of the mat where Thor had been training with Captain Rogers.

“Plan what?” Captain Rogers asked curiously. It was an innocent enough question but Loki took it as Rogers insinuating his distrust in him. Of course, Loki can’t blame the man but it did rub him the wrong way.

“If you must know Captain Rogers, I’m making plans for this upcoming Valentine’s Day,” Loki said matter-of-factly. “I’m sure since you have quite the active love life recently, your words of wisdom are probably of infinite value.”

“You can learn a thing or two from me,” Steve retorted as he put the punching bag beck into place. “But I don’t like your attitude.”

“I don’t know how I’ll ever manage without you,” Loki scoffed. He turned his attention back to his brother. “I need help to determine where I should take (y/n) and what I should get her.”

“(y/n) agreed to this?” Thor asks, his eyebrows raised in confusion. Rogers kept his mouth shut, deciding to see where this conversation will go before

“Yes, brother. I asked her to be my Valentine as stated by tradition and she said yes.”

“Ah! Good for you, brother!” Thor exclaimed, happily. “I’m glad you’re immersing yourself in the Midgard culture.”

“Yes, yes,” Loki waved him off, “Now, please, tell me what I should do.”

“I’ve never celebrated Valentine’s Day,” Thor says with a shrug and a sympathetic look. “I haven’t had much opportunity to explore the culture. Every time I’m on this planet I’m a little busy preventing its destruction. Perhaps Rogers can help you?”

Loki let out an exasperated sigh. He avoided Rogers as he knew the man had such a smug look on his face. Loki refused to give him the satisfaction. However, he realized that wouldn’t be fair to you. Rogers not only knew what to do, but he was also close friends with you. He quickly realized if he wanted to celebrate with you properly, he’d need to rely on the infamous super soldier.

“Captain Rogers,” Loki said with a charismatic smile, turning back to the man. “I wholeheartedly apologize for my lack of… social niceties. If you’d be willing to help me, to ensure your dear friend enjoys her holiday, I would be sincerely grateful.”

“Only because of (y/n),” Rogers says skeptically, waving a finger at Loki. “She deserves to enjoy her time and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you screw up her evening.”

“What a loyal friend.”

Years later, the Avengers would still talk about the fact Loki cared about you so much, he sought out advice from Captain America and Thor. And as Captain America said, he helped Loki with every last detail and Steve never let Loki forget it.

***

Loki had told you that he’d come to your room to get you at 6 o’clock Sunday evening. He wore clothes he had picked out, black dress pants, a white button-down shirt and shiny, black dress shoes. He had kept the last button of the shirt unbuttoned and he had rolled the sleeves up, a styling tip he had gotten from Thor. He had his long hair gelled back and tamed, ignoring Captain Roger’s horrible suggestion for a haircut. He felt very weird not wearing any green, but he took the advice he was given on his ensemble.

You were just putting on your heels when he knocked at your door Sunday promptly at 6pm. Of course, Loki would be very punctual. You gave yourself one more quick once more in the mirror in your room before heading to answer the door.

You had on a pair of dark green heels that perfectly matched your dress. You also layered over the outfit a suede brown jacket, that complimented the jewel tone of the dress and shoes nicely. You kept your appearance simple, sticking to how you usually styled your hair. Not wanting to keep him waiting, you quickly opened the door, your jacket and bag both in hand.

“Wow,” you say with a grin, when you take in Loki’s appearance. “You look very nice.”

“You look stunning,” Loki said, his eyes widening, taking in your appearance. The compliment made you have butterflies.

“Thank you,” you said with false confidence. Underneath, you were a nervous wreck as you took the arm that he extended to you.

“So,” Loki began to walk down the hallway with you. “Apparently, this planet has something called reservations, and anyone who tries to get one a few days before Valentine’s Day is a “moron,” according to a very rude young man I had the pleasure of speaking with- the first time using a phone too on top of that. So, I hope you don’t mind if the evening is a little… makeshift.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great,” you reassure him. You feel him relax slightly. You found how hard he was trying so endearing.

Where else did he bring you but just down the hall to the living room. At night with the lights dimmed, combined with Natasha’s homemade decorations, it actually looked quite beautiful. He had decorated with an eclectic array of candles as well that covered most surfaces of the room. It also looked like he had swiped every throw pillow in the whole compound and had them arranged the coffee table in the center of the room.

“Did you do all of this?” You ask in awe.

“Yes,” he replied, just watching you. “Do you like it?”

“It’s perfect.”

“I had to make my own version of advice I received,” he disclosed to you. You sat opposite each other on either side of the coffee table, you kicked off your heels and he did the same with his shoes. “Captain Rogers said- and I’m trying my best to quote verbatim, ‘You need to show a girl a good time. You gotta take her to dinner and dancing.’” He even mimicked Steve’s voice perfectly. It made you laugh.

“I can’t believe you subjected yourself to Steve for me, I’m touched,” you smiled. “I mean I love Steve,” you continue, “But I can’t imagine you too being best friends anytime soon.”

“No, I suppose we probably won’t be,” Loki chuckles.

“I hate to point it out,” you continue, “but I think you missed both the dinner part and the dancing part of that plan.” Loki smirked and when you blinked, he transformed the whole room.

“Did I?” he asks, with an eyebrow raised. You gasp, looking around the room you were now in. You knew it was an illusion, but it felt very real. The atmosphere, the breeze coming in from the large bay windows that weren’t there before. The coffee table now a table now one of many dining tables in an incredibly high-end restaurant. The table had food, and a bottle of wine. You were stunned. There was a live band and other couples in other tables and out on the dancefloor.

“Loki?” You exclaimed, looking around at your new surroundings. It was amazing. You couldn’t believe the magic right before your eyes. Of course, you knew it was just one of his tricks, but it felt so incredibly real. You picked up your fork and took a bite of the food in front of you. It was incredible, you questioned if you were even eating.

“It’s real,” Loki said, like he could read your mind. Honestly, he had only just anticipated your next question. “I made it. Well, I made it with Friday’s supervision.”

“It’s fantastic! I can’t believe you went through all this trouble just for me.”

“Sweetheart, you are very much worth it- worth much more than this,” he responded casually, throwing in the term of endearment to see how you’d react. He caught the way it made you smile.

You continued to talk for a little while, and shared stories. You were worried that compared to his life on Asgard, he’d find your stories incredibly boring and mundane. It seemed to be the opposite. His attention was only on you and he held on to every word you said. He created this elaborate setting just to keep you the center of his attention.

“Should we dance?” He asks suddenly, a glimmer in his eye. You looked down apprehensively.

“I’m not really a dancer,” you tried to insist.

“Do you actually not want to dance, darling? Because if so, I will not bring it up again,” he says earnestly, “But, if you’re saying no because you’re afraid I’m going to judge you, I honestly can promise you I would never dream of doing so.”

You give it another moment to ponder over his words. You were taken aback at how well he seemed to know how you were thinking. You let out a sigh of defeat, and smile. “I’d love to,” you reply.

He stands up and offers you his hand. His smile is enough to make you weak at the knees. You take his hand and he leads you over to the dancefloor as the band starts playing its next song. “Does that singer sound like Elvis?” You ask, the small glitch in the illusion throwing you off for only a moment.

“I don’t know who that is,” Loki says with a laugh. He pulls you in close and rests one hand on the small of your back and the other grasps your hand close. You wrap your other arm around his shoulder. You are both pressed up incredibly close to one another. You rest your head on his chest comfortably, and you can’t see how much the action makes his whole face go red. Guiding your movements together, it mostly just swaying in place. The steps were small, and with the music playing for the two of you.

“This place is incredible,” you sigh happily looking up at him. “But I think I liked the first place a little better.”

He nodded in agreement and you got to watch a green hue encompass the walls of the restaurant as they almost melted away, and everything around the two of you just fade away. The sconces on the walls, revealed themselves to be the candles that cluttered the living room and the couples evaporated with the green mist. The table you had both sat at, turned back to the coffee table but the empty plates remained. The elaborate statues that surrounded the room turned into the furniture you knew well, and then the live band faded away to reveal Steve’s record player indeed playing a 45 of Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis Presley.

When the room finished revealing its true appearance to you, you laid your head back on Loki’s chest and mumbled that now it was perfect. He smiled to himself, thinking about how without a doubt in his mind, Valentine’s Day is his absolute favorite holiday on Midgard. He now couldn’t believe this reality was real. If he wasn’t holding you, he’d pinch himself. You were here, with him, in his arms, dancing in the middle of the living room on this godforsaken planet.

“(y/n)?” he whispered softly as the song was coming to an end.

“Mhmm?” You responded, your eyes closed, really just basking in the feeling of being so close to him and the smell of his cologne.

“Will be mine?” He asks carefully, remembering the phrase from Captain Roger’s advice. That phrase apparently being very important if today went well and he wanted to ask you to “go steady.” You chuckled softly, hearing Steve’s influence in the phrase.

“I would love to,” you say with a shy smile looking back up to him. He beams, incredibly happy you said yes. Swept up in his emotions, he swiftly leans down and presses his lips to yours capturing them in a passionate first kiss.

“Oh gross!” You hear someone exclaim, making you both pull away. It’s Tony- who was currently holding his side in pain as Pepper elbowed him in the side.

“You really had to do that?” she chastised him, rolling her eyes and giving an apologetic look to you and Loki before pushing Tony down the hallway to give you both your moment back, as sullied as it had become thanks to Tony.

“I’m so sorry,” she said embarrassed by his outburst, ushering him out as quickly as possible.

Loki turns his head back to you, immediately after they are out of view. “Where were we, darling?” He smirks, pulling you in for another kiss.

[engie-ivy]

Receiving a love confession from Sirius Black is probably the dream of almost every student at Hogwarts. Remus just whishes Sirius would move on, but you should be careful what you wish for...

Don't worry, it's a short, fluffy Wolfstar get-together. Lily knows about Remus’ Furry Little Problem in this.

How do you feel about Sirius Black?

“I swear to Merlin, if Gina Simmons looks at me like that one more time, I’m gonna give her something to be mad about,” Lily grumbles, her eyes flaming with anger.

Gina Simmons, who had been glaring in their direction, quickly turns her head as Remus looks over his shoulder. She whispers something to Beth Walker and Davey Martens, who both glare at Lily and Remus as well.

Remus sighs. “Is it always like this?”

Lily’s expression softens. “It gets less,” she says. “But there’s this persistent group that just can’t get over it. This morning, I heard Rosemary Rowle call me ‘an entitled bitch who thinks she’s too good for James Potter’. Rosemary Rowle! The girl who can’t finish a sentence without mentioning her ‘daddy, who has such an important job at the Ministry’ calling me entitled!” The angry expression is back and she clenches her quill so hard Remus worries she’s gonna break the thing.

Remus frowns. “I overheard Randall Thorne ask Jules Flemming whether he reckoned I thought I could do better, and during Potions Kirsten Pembroke threw a vial of Armadillo bile over me!”

Lily winces. “I’m sorry. I should’ve warned you to stay away from Kirsten Pembroke if she has throwable substances within reach.”

“I just don’t understand what their problem is,” Remus mutters.

Lily smiles ruefully. “You’re now officially part of the club of people who have committed the atrocious crime of rejecting the school’s most popular and beloved students, Potter and Black. With you joining, our member count is now a total of two.”

“But that’s the thing! I rejected him,” Remus says. “Nothing’s changed. They can go on writing Mrs or Mr Black on their notebooks for all I care.”

“Oh Remus,” Lily sighs wistfully. “To be so naive. I’ve rejected Potter about fifteen times now, and they still won’t forgive me for him apparently choosing me over them. Of course, in my case it doesn’t help that Potter still refers to himself as the future Mr Evans,” Lily adds with a grimace.

“It just doesn’t make sense,” Remus says, shaking his head. “They should be thankful I don’t return his feelings!”

“Well, first of all, you saying no to Black doesn’t chance the fact that he’s head over heels in love with you. Not immediately, at least. So he’s still just as unavailable to them. And more importantly, in their eyes you were given the greatest gift that can be bestowed upon a man or woman: a full-blown love confession by Sirius Black.” Lily rolls her eyes while speaking. “And the fact that you didn’t even appreciate it, just makes it worse.”

“I never asked for-”

“I know, Remus, I know. I’m just explaining how they see it. You and I are the horrible people who had the audacity to break their heartthrobs Potter and Black’s hearts.”

Remus groans. “I whish Sirius would see how ridiculous it is for him to be in love with someone like me.”

“Remus,” Lily says in a dangerous tone.

Remus ignores her. “I whish he’d just move on. I whish he’d date someone else, so they’ll have no reason to pester me anymore!”

Remus is writing his essay. Frantically. Or rather, furiously. Pressing hard on his quill while scribbling in angry, fast strokes, a pile of broken quills already forming next to his parchment.

“Did that essay murder your family?” Lily asks, as she sits down in front of Remus. “I honestly thought you’d be in a good mood.”

Remus looks up at her, a sulky expression on his face. “So you’ve heard?”

“Heard?” Lily asks. “I’ve orchestrated the whole thing!”

Remus gives her a confused look, so Lily elaborates.

“After our last conversation, I went up to Black and I just told him ‘oi, the whole school knows about your unrequited love for Remus, and some twats are giving him a really hard time about it, so if you could just take someone on a date to Hogsmeade this Saturday so they’ll stop pestering Remus, that’ll be great’. And he agreed!”

Remus just blinks at her.

Lily frowns. “That’s what you wanted, right?”

“Yes!” Remus says a little too quickly. “I just... don’t get why he’d ask Alyssa MacMillan. She’s rather dull, don’t you think?”

Lily shrugs. “She’s nice enough, but more importantly, she thinks Black is fit and would love to go out with him, but she’s got no real feelings for him and isn’t looking for a relationship, so she won’t mind just drawing people’s attention away from you, or draw his attention away from you, for that matter.”

“Right,” Remus says. “Guess I just didn’t think she’s his type, is all.”

“Who knows,” Lily smiles mischievously. “It could become some kind of Fake Dating, Friends to Lovers scenario, and they might fall in love for real! Then your problem is solved for good.”

Remus looks at her like she just told him puppies have gone extinct.

“Merlin, Remus. What is it? Is this some kind of ‘I don’t want him, but I don’t want anybody else to have him either’ thing? Because that’s really shitty!”

“No,” Remus says defensively. “No, that’s not it. I just think Sirius can do better than Alyssa MacMillan, but if that’s what he likes, than good for him.”

“Oh, for Godric’s sake, you’re jealous!”

“No, I’m not! Or at least, I don’t think I am. Am I?”

Lily folds her arms over her chest and stares at Remus intently. “Remus Lupin, do you have feelings for Sirius Black?”

“I... I don’t know,” Remus looks quite miserable. “I mean, I’ve never thought about it.”

“Never thought about it?” Lily exclaims. “How do you mean, never thought about it? Do you remember that evening when Black took you out on a moonlit walk by the Great Lake, and poured his heart out to you, saying how he’s been crazy in love with you since the beginning of fifth year, and asked if you wanted to go on a date with him, to which you answered no? That would’ve been the moment to think about it!”

“It’s just...” Remus anxiously runs a hand through his hair. “With my condition, romantic relationships simply are not an option. I always saw romance as one part of being a teenager I didn’t have to concern myself with. I guess I just started to automatically ignore all thoughts and feelings related to romantic relationships. When Sirius made that confession, I was shocked, and the only thing I could think was ‘no, he can’t, he shouldn’t. I don’t do romance. I have to put an end to this immediately’. I never considered my own feelings. I mean, why would I?”

“Well, that’s a load of crap,” Lily scolds.

Remus opens his mouth to protest, but Lily cuts off whatever he was going to say.

“Not that you thought all of that, I believe you did, but that you can’t have romantic relationships with your condition is nonsense.”

“It’s never been done,” Remus argues.

“If no one ever did anything that’s never been done, we’d still be living in caves,” Lily firmly replies.

Remus fiddles with the hem of his sweater. “You really think it’s possible?”

“I don’t think it’s possible, I know it’s possible. So now we have established that, how do you feel about Sirius Black?”

“I’ve never thought-”

“Well, think about it now!”

“I don’t know,” Remus says, staring at the table. “Of course I think he’s attractive, but that doesn’t mean anything except that I have eyes. I mean, who doesn’t think he’s attractive? With that hair and those eyes... And I have even more reason, sharing a dorm with him. I see him when he comes out of the shower wearing just a towel, sweet mother of Merlin...”

Lily waits patiently for Remus to finish daydreaming.

Remus shakes himself out of his daze. “And of course I like him as a person. I wouldn’t have been friends with him all these years if I didn’t like him as a person. And what’s not to like? He’s clever, funny and brave, but he also has this really sweet side, you know? A side he doesn’t show much, and I guess it makes me feel special that he does show it around me. He always makes me feel special. It’s kind of weird, actually. He makes me feel special, but at the same time he makes me feel like I can just be myself, and that’s enough. I feel comfortable around him, and I suppose I do prefer his company above anyone else’s. Even on those moments when I normally don’t want to see anyone, he’s the only one I prefer being with over being alone. And when he’s not around I often find myself thinking about him. Now that I think about, I think about him almost all the time...”

Remus trails of and looks at Lily with wide eyes. Lily just nods.

“Oh Merlin,” Remus groans, hiding his face in his hands.

“Remus, Remus, Remus,” Lily sighs. “You’re so lucky to have me as a friend. Here’s what you’re going to do...”

“Padfoot?”

Sirius whirls around, and grins at Remus. Remus can tell he’s trying to act like everything’s normal between them, but he can also tell that his grin is somewhat forced and there’s a hint of pain in his eyes.

“Wotcher, Moony.”

“I wanted to talk to you,” Remus says.

The grin fades from Sirius’ face, and he runs a hand through his hair. “Ah, yeah, Evans told me about those people that’ve been bothering you. I’m really sorry, Moony. If I had known...”

“It’s not your fault,” Remus says.

“I know you feel uncomfortable about my feelings for you.” There’s a sadness in Sirius’ voice. “I won’t mention it again. I never meant to make you uncomfortable. If I could change it, I would, but being in love with you has become such a big part of me, and it’s not something I can just stop. Turns out, you’re a very hard person to not be in love with.”

“I don’t want you to not be in love with me!” Remus says.

Sirius frowns. “You like having me hopelessly pine after you that much?” He looks slightly hurt.

“No,” Remus says quickly. “No, I just think I might have been... too hasty in rejecting you?”

“Moony,” Sirius sighs. “You have every right to reject me. You don’t have to try and force yourself into feeling something you don’t, just because you pity me, or some stupid twats think they can judge you.”

“I rejected you because I didn’t think you should be with...” Remus gestures vaguely at himself. “Well, with someone like me. It only occurred to me recently, very recently, that I never even considered whether I have feelings for you.”

“And do you...”

“I do.”

“Oh.”

“Oh indeed.”

Sirius lets out a nervous chuckle. “So do you want to-”

“No!”

Sirius blinks in confusion. Remus quickly tries to clarify.

“I mean, no, you already asked me last time, this time I want to ask you.”

Sirius mutters something under his breath about a bloody emotional roller-coaster. Remus continues.

“I already talked to Alyssa MacMillan, and she told me to ‘go get my man’, so since you’re now free this Saturday, would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me, as in a date?”

Sirius’ face lights up in a smile so beautiful it makes Remus a little dizzy. “I’d absolutely love to!”

[writethelifeyouwant]

Alpha and Omega - Ch 2 / 2

Pairing: Sam x Dean Rating: 18+ Tags: A/B/O, Darkness magic,  Alpha!Dean, Omega!Sam, Dub-Con (biological necessity), little bit of meta (cuz why not), Sam’s a needy mess, Dean is possessive af  Word Count: 4k Created for: @first-time-wincest-fest​ - 12x02 Mamma Mia | @spnabobingo​ - Male Omega | Summary: Amara wants to thank Dean by giving him the thing he needs most – Sam – but she knows the boys are stubborn, so she’s going to have to be creative. Problem is, she doesn’t tell Dean or Sam what she’s put in motion, and magic can be unpredictable.

Despite the many apparent flaws of these British Men of Letters dicks, at least Mick has the good sense to let Dean and Sam go. He offers to try helping Sam, but he doesn’t have any more ideas about his condition than that blonde bitch does, so Dean declines and gets Sam the hell out of dodge.

The moment they make it over the property line and past the efficacy of the anti-angel warding Cas is by their sides, sliding under Sam’s other arm to help Dean carry him to the Impala.

“Don’t touch him,” Dean growls, startling Cas and himself. Cas raises his hands in a show of good faith.

“I am just trying to help, Dean,” he reassures the hunter, lowly.

“Yeah, um, sorry man,” Dean shakes his head to clear it. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t like the idea of anyone else touching Sam right now but he doesn’t want anyone’s hands on his baby brother. Begrudgingly, he lets Castiel grab Sam’s arm and help them to the car, where they gingerly lay a shivering, and for all intents and purposes unconscious, Sam on the back seat. “Cas, what’s wrong with him?” Dean tries to keep a grip on the panic in his voice but he doesn’t have much luck.

“It’s hard to be sure,” Castiel mutters, laying a hand against Sam’s forehead, which is burning hot. “We need to get him home immediately, this fever is dangerously high.”

Dean rounds the car to root through the first aid pack in the trunk, pulling out a few instant cold packs. “Here,” he cracks one up in his hands and passes it to Cas. “Get in back, try to keep him cool.” Cas slides into the back seat of the Impala, pulling Sam over his lap and pressing the cold pack against the young man’s forehead. Dean drops the spare cold packs beside him as he jumps in behind the wheel and peels out of the dirt road driveway in reverse, gunning them back home towards Kansas.

The use of cold packs and bags of ice they picked up at gas stations along their way get the trio home without Sam’s condition worsening. Dean would send up a thank you to Chuck for that except that he’s nearly positive Chuck’s sister is the reason Sam is in this mess in the first place. I thought she wanted to do something to thank me, not destroy my life. They get Sam into bed without too much trouble, and Castiel suggests stripping Sam out of his clothes to help keep him cool.

“Get away from him,” Dean growls, baring his teeth at his friend. Castiel once again looks at him in confusion, his brow crinkling as he stares hard at Dean.

“I’m going to call Rowena, see if maybe she can help us determine what is wrong with Sam.” Cas backs up cautiously, and Dean is glad to see him go.

Once he’s alone with his brother, he does think that stripping Sam down is a decent idea – at the very least he should change him into some clean pyjamas instead of the bloodied tatters he’s dressed in now. Dean sits on the edge of the bed, gently brushing Sam’s hair away from his eyes. He has the sudden urge to lean down and kiss Sam, so he does – very carefully placing his lips against his little brother’s forehead. It seems to Dean like Sam presses back into the kiss, and when his lips retreat, Sam stretches his neck and turns his head into Dean’s side, almost like he’s burrowing there. The unconscious display of affection brings a surge of warmth to Dean’s chest, though he can’t find it in him to smile with Sam like this.

Gingerly, Dean unbuttons Sam’s shirt and eases it over his shoulders, his fingers tracing over Sam’s muscles on the way down each arm. He hadn’t spent too much time around Sam’s unclothed chest recently and he couldn’t help staring at the contours of his frame. Sometimes he spends so much time thinking about Sam as his little brother, he forgets how much he’d built himself up over the years, forgets about the strength that all those layers of shirts they wear everyday are hiding. Dean has to shake himself in chastisement for staring at Sam’s body and lusting after it like a creep when he’s supposed to be taking care of him. How could he be thinking with his dick, even now, when Sam is deathly ill? But he was thinking with his dick, because even seeing Sam half naked for a matter of thirty seconds seems to be enough to give him a semi. For fuck’s sake, Dean curses himself, and sets about the task of easing Sam out of his torn up jeans.

As he gets Sam’s abnormally long jeans off his abnormally long body, three things strike Dean as odd. The first, that the smell he’d overwhelmingly associated with Sam back at the farmhouse in Missouri all of the sudden permeates the air around him. Sure, he’d been smelling it this whole time – it had been almost unbearably strong on the 6 hour drive back to Kansas – but he figured he must have gotten used to it because it had sort of faded into the background until just now. Secondly, the way Sam’s legs were splayed out across the bed right now gave Dean a view of a dark wet patch on the light grey of Sam’s underwear – gross, Dean thinks to himself, until he realises that the stain isn’t on the front of Sam’s briefs like it would be if he’d pissed himself. That examination leads him to his third odd discovery, which is that Sam has a boner.

“Well, what have we here?” Dean spins to see Rowena standing in the doorway, smirking.

“I’m sorry, Sam’s turned into a what?” Dean blinks incredulously at Rowena, who’s perching on the edge of the table in the kitchen. He turns his head to look at Castiel, who is sitting stoically behind Rowena. The angel shrugs unhelpfully.

“An Omega, dearie,” Rowena enunciates more clearly, like she imagines she’s talking to a four year old.

“Right,” Dean nods, although he doesn’t really understand. “And I’m a–”

“An Alpha, yes,” Rowena reiterates, clearly annoyed Dean isn’t getting this. “Well, Sam’s Alpha, more specifically,” she amends.

“And what exactly does all this mean?” Dean grunts, frustrated.

“It means that you and Samuel are mates,” Rowena elaborates.

“We know that, we saw our shared heaven, like a decade ago. What the hell does it have to do with him being sick?”

“Samuel is sick because he’s an Omega in heat, and he needs his mate.”

“Well if I’m his ‘mate’ and he ‘needs me’ – I’m right here! So why isn’t he better?” Dean growls.

“I believe,” Cas clears his throat, “from what I understand of the traditional elements of this condition, that what Rowena means is that Sam needs you, as his mate, physically.” Cas looks sheepishly at Rowena for confirmation.

“Precisely,” she smiles thankfully at Castiel.

“Physically?” Dean’s not any closer to understanding what’s happening. “So what, I need to go hold his hand until his fever breaks?”

“Well, I’m not surprised that you might want to hold his hand, but it’s going to take a wee bit more than that.”

“Will you just tell me how the hell to cure him?” Dean shouts, accidentally shattering the beer bottle he’s holding. He looks down, surprised at his own strength and at the end of his tether now.

“Sexual intercourse,” Cas answers shortly, his face carefully blank. “Though, again, from my understanding, that will only cure his heat. He will remain an Omega and you will remain an Alpha.”

“What the hell are you talking about ‘from what you understand’?” Dean makes indignant air quotes at Cas.

“When Metatron put all of popular culture into my head it included every story ever written. There are a large number of stories on the internet that incorporate the dynamics of the Alpha/Omega hierarchy. It’s a trope primarily found in something called ‘fanfiction’,” Cas explains. “In fact, there is some ‘fanfiction’ about yourself and Sam if it would help you to understand the mating requirements.” Dean feels like he’s going to be sick.

“Cas, listen to me very carefully: under no circumstances are you to ever tell anyone else that those exist,” Dean groans, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Why is this happening?”

“That’s the part I’ve not got the faintest idea about,” Rowena sighs. “It would take something more than a simple spell to alter your anatomies like this. Not even an angel,” she glances at Castiel quickly to check she’s right in her assumption. “I’ve never heard of something like this actually happening outside of fiction.”

“It was Amara,” Dean sighs. “When she left she told me she was going to give me what I ‘needed most’, but I don’t know why she thought this was it. It just seems like some sick joke.”

“Ah,” Rowena nods sagely like she understands now. “She was giving you Samuel.”

“How is this ‘giving me’ Sam?”

“A physically bonded Alpha and Omega are bonded for life, inseparable. Without the other, they won’t survive their heats – or ruts, in your case.”

“So every time Sam goes into a heat, we need to have sex, or he dies?” Dean can’t believe how fucked up this is.

“You’ll also need to knot him,” Cas adds gravely. Noticing Dean’s look of incredulity, he continues. “The base of your penis will inflate when you ejaculate and lock you and Sam together for a brief time. It’s the knot that Sam needs to relieve the symptoms of his heat.”

“What the fuck?” Dean blanches.

“Not to importune but I do believe Samuel was running out of time when I examined him. You really should get to it, Dean,” Rowena cuts in.

“And how am I supposed to do that, huh? The guy’s unconscious! I can’t just–” Dean’s stomach roiled. The thought of fucking Sam was tempting, amazingly so, but the thought of doing it to Sam, without his knowledge or participation, was sickening.

“I can make him a wee draft to revive him and stave off the fever,” Rowena moves towards one of the cupboards in the kitchen where Sam keeps the common spell ingredients. “Then Castiel and I can make ourselves scarce and leave you two to it,” she smiles.

“And you’re positive this is the only way?” Dean presses desperately.

“That Amara is a crafty woman, she knew what she was doing.” Rowena throws some herbs into a small dish. “She saw that you would never ‘put the moves on Sam’, as you say. This is her way of giving you both that little push.”

“Yeah, well, she’s a bitch,” Dean grumbles, dropping his head in his hands and waiting for Rowena to finish the potion to wake Sam up.

Sam blinks awake wearily, vaguely aware that he’s safe and not being held captive anymore, but he can’t remember much more than snippets of sound and scent. The rumble of an engine, the smell of motor oil; the low tenor of Dean’s voice, and the scent of whiskey, apple pie, and old leather. He can make out all of those scents now, too, swirling around him and pulling him back into consciousness – like smelling salts.

“Hey, there he is,” Dean’s voice says nearby, he’s sitting on the side of Sam’s bed.

Sam nuzzles towards his older brother, inexplicably craving the closeness. “De,” Sam mumbles, still sleepy.

“Yeah, it’s me Sammy,” Dean smiles down at him gently, eyes soft. Sam feels an unusual rush of need wash over him like a heat wave and he presses himself as close to Dean as two bodies can possibly get with a blanket still in between them.

“Wha s’happening?” he grumbles into Dean’s chest, looping his long arms around his brother’s waist.

“Short version?” Dean scoffs, but not unkindly. “Listen man, I’ll explain everything, I promise but – right now I just need to make sure you get outta this in one piece,” Dean sighs, drawing his hand down Sam’s face and holding his cheek. Sam looks up at Dean quizzically, unused to the level of physical affection but finding he was in desperate want of more. He nods at his big brother – whatever’s wrong, he knows Dean will take care of him. “You trust me Sammy?” Dean’s voice is hoarse, and Sam realises he’s scared.

“Yeah, Dean,” Sam breathes quietly into the slowly decreasing space between them. “Course I do,” he confirms again.

“Alright then,” Dean gulps and nods, mostly to himself though, like he’s trying to psych himself up for something. Then without any further warning, Dean’s lips are covering Sam’s and pressing him down onto the bed.

The fire that had been smouldering inside Sam for days now leaps and dances, as if Dean’s kiss is gasoline being thrown across him. Sam clings to Dean as he’s laid back onto the bed, and lets Dean climb into his lap and bury his hands in Sam’s hair. Dean licks across the seam of his lips and Sam parts them willingly, drinking in every bit of Dean that is being offered to him. He can’t remember why he needs Dean like this so badly, or when he started needing him, but now that he has him he couldn’t care less. He knows with certainty that the only thing he needs to be happy for the rest of his life is Dean – Dean loving him, Dean kissing him, Dean inside him. Fuck, he needs Dean inside him right fucking now.

At this realisation, Sam starts tearing into Dean’s clothes, ripping through the thread keeping buttons in their places without a thought. He expects Dean to start doing the same to him, but then realises he’s not wearing anything but his underwear, which suits Sam just fine. Dean has to pull away from him to wriggle out of his jeans, and Sam groans involuntarily at the sight of the bulge Dean reveals when he strips down.

“Someone likes the view, huh?” Dean teases him, voice deep and throaty, but Sam’s too far gone to come up with a bratty retort. All he can focus on is that he wants Dean’s cock – now.

“Shit, you look so big De,” Sam groans, reaching out a hand to cup around Dean’s member, still hidden behind black cotton. The front of the material is wet with precum, Sam can feel it against his fingertips.

“Think you can handle me, little bro?” Dean grabs Sam’s wrist and drags his fingers along the outline of his cock, up to the elastic waist of his boxers, and then inside them. Sam’s fingers curl around Dean and stroke him gently beneath the fabric. “Think you can fit all that inside your tight little ass f’me?” he grunts, thrusting into Sam’s grip.

“Fuck yes,” Sam rasps, and his breath sounds like it’s raking over hot coals in his throat. He pulls back from Dean to shed his own underwear, staring at it puzzledly when it comes away from his body covered in slick. What is that, he wonders as he feels it on his fingers. It doesn't feel like lube… “Dean?” Sam looks to his brother for answers.

“S’okay,” Dean rushes to reassure him, joining his little brother on the bed, both of them now completely bared to the other. “I’ll explain later, yeah? Just let me take care of you right now, okay?” Dean’s eyes are wide and pleading as he looks to Sam, and Sam nods; he trusts Dean. “Just lemme take care a’you,” Dean whispers again as he brushes their lips together, and Sam pulls him in tight for another bruising kiss.

Their bodies twist and tangle easily, Sam just letting Dean put them together however he wanted. The heat of Dean against him is overwhelming, the sweat on their skin mingles and sticks them together, pulling at their nerves every time they part. Sam doesn’t want them to part. He reaches between them, grabbing Dean’s cock in his hand and thrusts his own into the same grip. Their moans ring through each others’ mouths as Sam jerks them against each other, and they take turns fucking into his fist. Before long Dean pulls away from Sam with a groan, probably to stop himself from finishing before he’s had a chance to see what the inside of his brother feels like. Sam is glad of his consideration in this case, because if he ends tonight without Dean locked firmly inside of him, he’s going to feel like he’s missing out. If he was more clear headed, he might question why the phrase ‘locked inside of him’ is the one that came to mind but he’s not thinking too deeply about what he wants right now — he just wants.

“Need you, Dean,” Sam pants, widely, grabbing at Dean, trying to bring their bodies back together. “Need… ne—” Sam’s vocabulary has become shockingly singular, and he doesn’t have the presence of mind to be irritated with his brother when Dean smiles down at him smugly, knowingly.

“I know what you need, Sammy” Dean grins down at his little brother. Having Sam this strung out and desperate for him is like a drug. I could get used to this being a monthly thing, he smirks to himself, reaching his hand down between Sam’s legs and rubbing at his slick entrance. “Need me right here, dontcha Sammy? I can feel how much you need me,” Dean groans as the tip of his finger slips inside of Sam too easily, “fuck, you’re wet. So fucking wet for me, huh Sammy?”

Sam just nods blissfully down at Dean; it seems his vocabulary of one word has now receded to zero.

Cas had warned him about this, that as an Omega, Sam would start leaking like a fire hydrant, but at least it saved him having to hunt around for some kind of lube — he’d never needed to have that on hand before, and if he found any lying around the bunker there’s a decent chance it would be cursed or something. Plus, he bet this made the whole experience way better for Sam, so he was all for it. Dean moves between Sam’s legs and runs the head of his cock over Sam’s twitching entrance. Sammy lets out a weak moan and arches against the pressure, trying to get Dean to slip inside. Dean’s about to oblige when he remembers what Cas said about them getting locked together by the Alpha’s knot once he comes, and he thinks better of their position. It will be easier to roll on to their sides and rest if he does this with Sam on his hands and knees.

He manhandles Sam into position, rolling him over, and when Sam gets the idea and pushes himself onto his hands and knees, arching his back and presenting himself to Dean like some kind of trophy, Dean can’t hold himself back any longer. He pushes his cock inside Sam slowly, agonisingly and torturously slowly. Not because he’s concerned about hurting Sam, who is opening up beneath him like he was born for this — born to take Dean’s cock — but because he knows he wants to savour this moment for the rest of his life. He wants to remember every second of the first time he felt what it was like to truly possess Sam, to be joined so completely to one another that not even their bodies can keep them separate. So Dean goes slow, even though Sam is begging beneath him, asking him to just fuck him already, Dean ignores him, and he drinks the feelings in.

When he’s got himself bottomed out inside of Sam he leans down over his brother and presses a kiss to his shoulder, tenderly, thanking him for what he’s giving Dean right now. “You feel so good Sammy,” Dean moans, and he doesn’t mean for it to sound as sappy as it does but it’s hard to regulate things like that when you feel like you’ve just connected to your soulmate for the first time, so he gives himself a pass.

The next time Sam begs, Dean gives in, snapping his hips back and fucking into him as hard as he can manage. And once he’s started he can’t stop. Every instinct inside of Dean is shouting at him to take, to fuck Sam into the mattress and never let up, which Sam doesn’t seem to mind, because no matter how roughly Dean thrusts into him he keeps shouting for more, faster, harder, please. So Dean, ever the good big brother, gives Sammy what he needs — what they both need.

Dean can feel himself getting closer and closer to his release, and that’s when he notices that he can’t quite pull out as far as before. His knot has begun swelling at the base of his cock, getting ready to pop and bind him and Sam together. The fattening edges catching on Sam’s rim give Dean a kind of friction no sex ever has before and, fucking hell, it feels unbelievably good. He grinds himself harder against Sam, dropping over his back so they can be as close as possible, and bringing his hand up beneath Sam to grasp at his little brother’s dick. It’s the first time he’s properly touched it, felt it in his hand, and shit, it feels even bigger than it looks.

“Oh my god, Dean,” Sam groans, sounding absolutely wrecked, and Dean takes that as a compliment. “Fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop, fuck, please,” Sam is pleading with him so prettily, and Dean wants to cum just as badly as him.

“Not stopping Sammy,” Dean strokes him faster, grinds into him harder, “not stopping until you cum all over my hand baby boy, so c’mon, want you to cum f’me.” Dean thanks God that Sam starts to cum loudly when Dean tells him too, because the second he feels Sam start to convulse around him his knot pops and he’s cumming harder than he ever has in his life. The thought of his seed whitewashing Sam’s insides is sickeningly thrilling and he swears a second, small orgasm rocks through him — and hey, if that’s a perk of being an Alpha, I could get used to this.

When Dean comes back to himself, his breathing finally evening out, he notices Sam slumped beneath him, no longer holding himself up. He quickly checks for a pulse, and relaxes when he finds one – Sam’s just passed out. Fuck, he came so hard he passed out. Dean shudders, feeling another small blurt of cum force itself out of his cock at the thought that he’d fucked Sam so thoroughly. To be honest he was a little proud of himself.

Dean arranges himself on his side on the bed, so he can curl around Sam while he waits for his knot to deflate. He thought he’d be annoyed by having to stay still like this for so long but it’s surprisingly peaceful, laying here with Sam asleep in his arms. He hugs his little brother tighter to him, clasping his hands over Sam’s chest – over his heart – feels the rhythm and reassures himself that Sam is here, and alive, and safe. And his. The realisation hits Dean unexpectedly. Sam is finally his in the most permanent way he can think of, and his heart leaps at the thought. The last thing he thinks before he drops off to sleep too, is that he hopes Sam still wants to be his when he wakes up.

Tags: @vulgar-library​ @tintentrinkerin​ @negans-lucille-tblr​ @fandomfic-galore​ @petitgateau911​ @whoreforackles-deactivated20210​ @schaefchenherde​ @kickingitwithkirk​ @little-diable​ @laxe-chester67​ @kassyscarlett​ @akshi8278 @deandreamernp @lyarr24 @lovealways-j @stoneyggirl 

[love-amihan]

| ʜᴏᴍᴇ | ᴊᴊᴋ | ᴀᴏᴛ | ʜǫ | ꜰɪʟᴏ | ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛs | ᴍɪᴍɪ |

PERSEVERANCE // OIKAWA TORU

word count: 2.0k+

warning: slight angst, reader is blaming themself due to failure of past relationship, might have spelling and grammar errors

song inspo: next to me by imagine dragons

amihan’s note: temporary banner bcs haven't got the chance to edit oikawa's. ahhh, i love this fic too, pardon my horrible transitions. here's your request bb @okakamaki happy reading!

!! small manga spoiler

best friend!toru x gn!reader (aoba johsai’s vbc manager)

“what comes to your mind when you hear ‘oikawa toru’?” the interviewer smiles brightly, holding the mic in front of you for your voice to be heard loud and clear.

the question makes you stop and think about it carefully. you look at the interviewer who’s standing out of frame, “oikawa toru?” you repeat after them, they nod at your words.

“ah him, oikawa toru... is a patient man,” you look at their eyes before looking around. “also a reliable person who puts everyone before himself,” the interviewer hums, letting you continue.

“most importantly, oikawa toru perfectly embodies egalitarian,” the interviewer retracts the mic to ask, “would you care to elaborate us on that, mx?”

you nod and lean down to say, “he believes in everyone,” your eyes staying in contact with the camera lens.

“thank you, mx,” the interviewer bows to you as you do the same, bidding goodbye with a smile before going back to your table.

────────────────────────────

oikawa toru is known by all, he has a lot of girls swooning over him, heck some male players have at least a small crush on him.

who wouldn’t? he’s perfect, positive energy is surrounding him everyday. he’s there to lift up everybody’s spirits, even yours.

“y/n-chan!” toru’s cheerful voice echoes in the gym. you turn and give toru a disappointed look. hajime, who was talking to you not long ago, follows suit, “the hell are you doing here, shittykawa?”

toru huffs, “to play volleyball of course,” approaching the two of you, he opens up his arms about to give you a hug.

you put a hand out, “no, it hasn’t been a day since you had your injury.” the captain, being the stubborn guy he is, “i’m all good to go.”

hajime grumbles, “i’ll kick him out,” you nod at his words, “please do.” toru looks at the two of you with his mouth hanging open, “don’t talk like i’m not he- hey iwa-chan! nooooo!” toru’s whines fade as he’s dragged outside by the wing spiker.

after taking care of toru, hajime looks at you with concern in his eyes, “are you sure you’re gonna be alright?” you snicker at him, “can’t believe i’m saying this but toru’s right, are you my mother?” you say in a teasing manner.

but instead of facing his wrath, the boy just sighs, “how many months has it been since you’ve last seen him?” you shrug, “don’t know and don’t care, haji” you say while avoiding eye-contact.

────────────────────────────

after the practice match ends, “y/n...san,” wakatoshi calls after you. you stop from speed-walking, back still facing him. shiratorizawa's ace stares at your back, mind running on what to say next.

he slowly approach you, hand reaching out. taking a hold of your wrist, he spins you around and engulfs you in a hug. tears start running down your face, your head pressed firmly against his chest.

meanwhile, toru, who did not listen and stayed even with your and hajime's protest, his smile falters watching the scene unfold.

issei blocks the view and turns him around, ushering him back inside the gym. “come on, i’m sure that’s nothing” the middle blocker tries to assure him.

“it’s not your fault,” wakatoshi mumbles, pulling away as he wipes your tears. you close your eyes, nodding along his words, “you’ll find someone better, i'm sure of it.” he's not one to cry but seeing him with red eyes and hear his sniffles makes your heart clench.

“but i want you,” you whisper, holding the hand on your face, looking up to him. wakatoshi shakes his head, “you know we can’t," his tone firm and stern.

he leans down, forehead touching with yours, both your eyes fluttering close, “it’s not your fault, okay?” wakatoshi reminds you once again, as if to engrave it in your mind.

“no, it is” you say while shaking your head, he holds your face still, with a stern voice he says, “none of this is your fault, y/n.”

slowly, he lets go of your face, whispering, “i’m letting you go. you’re free, y/n.”

your tears continue to stream down, taking some deep breaths trying your best to calm down. wakatoshi takes a few steps back, the two of you looking deeply into each other’s eyes.

────────────────────────────

your lips tremble at his words. he bows down to you, taking a moment before turning on his heel. your hand reaches out for him as his frame slowly disappears from your sight.

months had passed yet you can’t seem to forget wakatoshi, the closure is still fresh on your mind, replaying like it just happened yesterday.

you sit down on the floor, back leaning on the wall. good thing, there’s nothing much going on for today.

you hear some shuffling next to you, “toru, i said no. i’m not ready,” you say, not opening your eyes to check on the person, “ouch, you’re brutal. i’m surprised oikawa hasn’t given up yet,” takahiro states while wiping his sweat.

you sigh, looking at the boy beside you, repeating your words, “i’m not ready.” he hums, downing the rest of his water.

“you won’t get rid of him easily though,” he smiles, bringing a hand to ruffle your hair, “it’ll get better soon.”

────────────────────────────

toru’s smile gets wider seeing the gift you have for him, “i’m sorry, it’s not that much valuable,” you say as he takes out the hand-made bracelet, “what do you mean? i love it!” his hand fumbling, thrilled to wear the gift.

“you love anything that comes from y/n,” issei says, snickering at their captain. “but i do love it,” toru replies, “i’m glad,” you smile at him, his heart skipping a beat. “toru..?” you call out, the boy frozen in place, “this dork..” hajime mutters.

────────────────────────────

you hug your knees closer to your chest, sobs getting uncontrollable. destiny must have its ways with you two because like always, toru finds you in your vulnerable state. “y/n,” he mutters, approaching your fragile frame.

you look up to him, “i’m no good toru, it was all my fault,” you mumble against your knees, eyes red and puffy from crying. toru cradles you and pulls you close to him, his presence making you feel at home and secure.

“why would you even want me?” you sniff and wipe your tears harshly with the back of your hand, “you have everyone at your will yet…” you sob, “yet you’re here.” you can see the pain in his smile, “because the world seems to stop if i’m not with you.”

────────────────────────────

toru smiles at the camera, waving at it before looking back at the interviewer, “before leaving the country, as one of the well-known monster generation, do you have something to say?” the boy nods, looking at the camera.

“i’ll get everything i want and will be the one standing at the top with a big smile on my face,” confidence overflowing in his words.

hajime’s face scrunches up from their ex-captain’s words, they've graduated college and he’s still as ambitious as ever.

takahiro peeks from behind hajime and points at toru’s hand as he waves goodbye to the camera, “he still has that?” their eyes fleeting down on toru’s hand.

your eyes widen while watching toru’s last interview before going abroad, “toru…”

────────────────────────────

you groan, your phone’s been ringing for a while now, peeking at the clock, the red bold ‘2:00 am’ staring back at you.

not caring about the caller, you press the green button and mumble, “hello?” eyes fluttering close.

toru gasps and mutters apologies after apologies, “y/n-chan, i’m sorry i didn’t mean to call you,” he exclaims. you hum, “uh huh,” your mind on auto-pilot, his words not registering to you.

the boy on the other side of the phone smiles fondly, “do you find me attractive?” you nod, “yes,” you mutter.

he chuckles, “alright, i’m hanging u-” his farewell getting cut off by his own thought, ‘should i?’ he ponders, at least he can hear those sweet words even if you don’t mean it.

he gnaws on his bottom lip before uttering, “will you be my other half?” you mumble incoherent words while toru presses the phone against his ear more to hear you better, “i would love to,” his eyes widen, cheeks beginning to shade red.

“damn it, it's not fair how you still make me fluster even if you’re not aware,” he mutters behind his hand.

“have a nice sleep, love. sorry for the disturbing,” he ends the call with a sigh, his teammates looking at him weirdly, he sheepishly smiles and turns his back on them.

────────────────────────────

hajime groans, his expression screaming displeasure. “come on haji, he’s not that much late,” you say while poking his side, “ah, y’all missed me too much,” toru’s voice makes four heads snap in his direction.

it seems like nothing has changed, the group is still buzzing with never ending stories, it’s like no one aged at all. you smile to yourself looking around the table, “you okay?” you turn to toru and nod, especially him.

as toru strikes a conversation with you, takahiro opens up a topic that has not been brought up ever since high school, “you two are still not together?” toru shakes his head, holding his chest and fakes a hurt expression, “why must you break my heart like this, y/n.”

glancing at hajime, he nods to you while gesturing at toru, issei raises a brow to this, “wait… no way,” he mutters while takahiro looks at him, “what?” he whispers to him, you take toru’s hand where he wears the bracelet on.

his dramatic script coming to a stop, he looks at you, confused by the actions. “y/n-” you turn the bracelet around, a different color from how he usually wears it.

“you know i’ve always wondered why it’s a different color from each side,” he looks into your eyes, oblivious to what’s happening.

“that means yes, toru” you smile up to him, his eyes widening, “yes..?” he echoes you. “finally,” hajime mumbles with a big smile, you nod to his words, his eyes welling up in tears. “please tell me this isn’t a dream nor a prank,”

you shake your head and open your arms for him, he lets out a breath and tackles you in a hug. you chuckle at his actions while petting his hair, “thank you for taking a chance on me,” you mumble against the crook of his neck.

────────────────────────────

“congratulations on your win!” the same interviewer exclaims, a big smile on their face as toru clasps his hands together bowing in gratitude, sweat dripping down his pretty face.

“i have one question for you,” toru turns to the side leaning forward to hear the interviewer better, “ah yes, ask away” a charming smile plastered on his face, the same smile that made people all over the world swoon.

“what comes to your mind when you hear ‘oikawa y/n’?” the same question as yours, he continuously nods while taking a deep breath looking around as he thinks of the word.

he looks back at the interviewer, leaning closer to the mic. he stares at the lens, “oikawa y/n is my world.”

the interviewer smiles fondly, the action exactly like yours. “do you want to know what they thought of you?” toru looks back at the interviewer and wipes the sweat from his forehead. “but don’t tell them you told me,” he says while holding his index finger in front of his lips.

the interviewer chuckles and recites your exact words, “oikawa toru is a patient, reliable, and an egalitarian person,” the last word perking his interest, “egalitarian?” he repeats the word, looking at them.

they nod, “it means you believe in everyone.” toru’s eyes immediately softened, his fatigue fading away like magic, “did they really?” the interviewer eagerly nods, somehow feeling like a real-life cupid.

toru looks back at the camera smiling and shows the bracelet, kissing it together with the ring on his finger, “i’ll keep that in mind, mx oikawa,” he says while pointing at the lens.

copyright © 2021 by love-amihan all rights reserved. do not repost in other platforms. reblogs are welcome and highly appreciated! <33

taglist: @foxxtrot-116 @lumpiang-toge @chibishae34 @kirakirasaku @tohman @gay-bitch23 @crybabyjabby

[do-y0u-have-to-let-it-linger]

Hi! Can I get a ship? I'm an INFP, straight girl with social anxiety. I listen to music all the time. (mostly rock) I never leave the house without my earphones. I enjoy movie nights, reading books (romance and mystery are my favourite genres), playing videogames, goofing around with my friends. My friends would describe me as kind, helpful and loyal. I'm really into photography. I wanted to be a photographer as a kid, but it's just a hobby nowadays. I'm a hopeless romantic and a night owl. It takes time for me to open up to people, but once I'm there I can be pretty talkative. I'm 5'8" tall, I have half long brown hair, dark brown eyes and I wear glasses. If I have to describe my style it would be somewhat 80s grunge. Thank you!

(tw: swearing and eating)

I ship you with Scott Summers!

You never got along very well with Scott Summers.

He always came across as a bit of a preppy asshole. Not that his preppy-ness was necessarily correlated to his asshole-ness, but it did seem to enhance it.

You may think that not getting along perfectly with some random boy who happened to live in the (large) building you live in is not much of a problem, but you are incorrect.

When your best friend (and dorm-mate) of ten years, Jean, is on a so-called "superhero team" with and is good friends with said boy, it is not exactly easy to avoid him.

Since Jean's biological family was not around, she made her own.

The first member of her so-called found family was you, who arrived just a day before she did. When she first entered your dorm, you were adjusting all of your newly unpacked trinkets. You were both young enough to immediately become friends, no questions asked, and your friendship stuck. You two tended to keep to yourselves and each other, until you two were older.

When Jean was invited to join the X-Men with some of her friends, you couldn’t have been prouder. The problem was that when you met this other part of her found family, it did not go well. None of you clicked whenever in the same room, and Scott immediately made fun of you the moment he met you. You ultimately decided to avoid her other friends, but be supportive of them. Not because you couldn’t handle Scott, but because you didn’t want to put Jean in a position where she had to choose between you and them. Overall, this just made Jean desperately want you and her other friends to get along.

"Come on, just sneak out with us this one time!" Jean was sitting on the edge of your bed, making puppy dog eyes at you and clasping her hands together.

She always tried to convince you to hang out with her friend group. Even if that meant, in this case, convincing you to break (very reasonable) rules with them.

"No. Absolutely not. Jubilee is going to try to 'catch me a man', and Scott's going to try to be funny but just end up making fun of me. Besides, why would I break school rules and steal a car for a trip to the mall?"

"Because you haven't seen Empire Strikes Back yet, and I bought you a ticket for 1:00 PM today."

"Shit. You're evil, you know that? This is unfair. You know me too well."

Jean beamed at you. "Thank you, I try. Now, get dressed, you're going to love this."

"I am dressed, and you can’t make demands. I’m the one being convinced here!"

"I will not be pestered by Jubilee's pleas to let her give you a makeover! Just throw on jeans instead of your sweatpants or something! Now chop, chop! We're leaving in 10 minutes!"

"I'm sorry, 10 minutes?"

"I knew if you had more than 15, you would change your mind. Meet me by the front door when you're ready to go!"

After Jean left your shared room, you threw on some different clothes and hastily grabbed everything you needed to go. With your sneakers in your hands, you ran into the school's kitchen and shoved a granola bar in your mouth. As you were hopping, trying to force your shoes on your feet, someone spoke from behind you.

"Well, you look elegant as ever."

You froze, squinted your eyes, and clenched your jaw. Well, as much as you could with the previously mentioned granola bar in your mouth.

Scott Summers.

You swallowed and turned around, plastering on a smile in preparation to respond to his sarcasm.

"Well, you know me, unwaveringly ethereal."

Once you finished your attempt to keep the peace, your grin dropped off your face and you went to tie on your shoes, occasionally having to push your glasses back up your nose as you did so.

Jean then started talking to you while making her way into the kitchen.

"Come on, we need to go before Charles's class ends- well, well, well, look at you two!" she spoke in a sing-song tone at the end.

"Trust me, there's no 'you two' here." Scott hissed at her. Hissed! The audacity, would it be so terrible for him to be theoretical friends with you?

"Calm down, I just mean that I'm glad you two are talking," Jean said. "But we need to go. Like- now."

Jean then grabbed you by the arm and started to pull you out of the room, wiggling her eyebrows at Scott on the way out. Scott got up to trail behind you two, if he could glare at people with the glasses he wore, then he would have been glaring at her.

You elbowed Jean in the side and whisper shouted at her.

"What was that? What was the purpose of the eyebrow wiggle?"

"What eyebrow wiggle? I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You're a menace to society, you know that?"

"I am aware that you don't actually think I'm a menace, but I appreciate the compliment." She leaned down and messed up your hair. "Now let's move it!"

When you got to the minivan you were all "borrowing" from Charles, most everyone was already there. Kurt, Jubilee, and Peter took the back seats, and Ororo was sitting in the driver's seat.

You walked to sit shotgun, but Jean sped up to beat you to the seat.

Suspicious.

Squinting at her, you went to sit in the middle row, where Scott also made to sit.

It was silent for the first minute of the drive until Jubilee tried to strike up a conversation.

"So! Y/N, I'm so glad you decided to hang out with us! I love your outfit. Ooh! Peter, hand me my bag! I have a scrunchie that will match perfectly."

Peter looked at her with mock disbelief. "Yeah. dude, make me reach behind my seat and into the trunk of the car."

Kurt clearly did not want to be part of this conflict.

Jubilee smiled sweetly at Peter. "Shut up and grab me my bag, please?"

Peter sighed half-sarcastically. "Yes ma'am."

Well, Jean's friends were just as you remember (aka slightly crazy).

You heard Jean's voice in your mind "If you don't wear that scrunchie it will genuinely hurt Jubilee's feelings, and I will never forgive you."

You looked at her through the mirror and raised your eyebrows.

Jubilee's voice took back your attention. "Here it is! Scotty, I can't reach. Can you hand this to her?"

Scott visibly winced at the nickname "Scotty" but handed you the scrunchie anyway. After trying to hide your amusement at the use of "Scotty", you attempted to put your hair up with the scrunchie, and you saw Jean smile. You were determined to make friends with these people for Jean.

"Thanks, Jubilee," You smiled at her. "So, how do I look?"

Scott chimed in immediately. "Like you're twelve."

"Ok, shut up Scott. You look cool, Y/N." Ororo gave you a thumbs up from the front seat. They were all clearly told to make friends with you by Jean in the same way you were. Well... told or threatened. Who's to say.

The car ride was awkward, to say the least. When you finally arrived at the mall and exited the car, you felt like you could finally breathe. You spoke first while you were all walking into the mall.

"So, how are we planning on killing time before Empire?"

"Well, Jubilee wanted to pick up some more eyeshadow with me, and Peter, Kurt, and Ororo are probably going to buy even more colored leather jackets," Jean said.

"Where does that leave me and your wallflower?" Scott asked Jean. You turned to look at him, attempting to make your lack of amusement clear. "What?" He shrugged, "It's true!"

"Ok, first of all, she's not actually that shy, you're just mean. Second of all, I was hoping you two could go into the book shop together until we're done."

Your eyes widened as you turned to Jean, silently begging her not to leave you and Scott alone.

"What? Why are you looking at me like I'm crazy? Maybe I thought you would try to get along because you both love me and I want you to be friends!"

Scott responded first. "You're totally guilt-tripping us right now."

"Yes!" Jean responded. "Yes I am, and you better be feeling guilty. Now, we're all going inside, and you are going into that bookstore together, you are going to bond over your cheesy dreams about falling in love, and, Scott, you are going to be kind! Or I will be very upset!"

You and Scott looked at each other (slightly afraid) before you turned to Jean and nodded your head at her.

"Ok. Let's go, Scott." You looked at him and he nodded at you both of you then started to head to the bookstore.

In the door of the shop, you glanced at him awkwardly. "So... is there a specific section you want to visit? Or-"

"Uh, I usually just... wander." He was bouncing on his heels.

"Oh! Ok, uh... where you lead I will follow!"

He spun around and started to walk aimlessly, actually trying to make conversation.

"So- you take photos?"

"...How did you know that?"

"I've seen you. That sounds creepy, I just mean that I saw you with a camera once when you walked Jean to training. It seemed nice. Only a dumbass would own a nice camera and not use it."

"How kind of you to not see me as a dumbass," you mumbled as you ran your hand across the book binds. "Do you have any hobbies?"

"Not really to be honest. Well, actually- I like... cars."

"...Cars. Huh. Elaborate."

"My brother, his name is Alex, taught me how to fix up cars when I was younger. Ooh- recently we found this beautiful 1962 AMC Rambler- I mean, it was basically a pile of garbage, but we're fixing it up."

"What's a Rambler?"

"W- 'What's a Rambler?'" He looked at you like you were speaking another language. "A 1962 AMC Rambler is only the car of my dreams!"

"The 'car of your dreams'?"

"Uh, yeah. What- do you not have a dream car?"

You laughed at him, "No? I don’t know that much about cars."

"You don’t have to know shit about cars to have a dream car! Come on, you don't have any car you would want to drive?"

"A school bus."

"...What do you mean."

"I mean- I bet I could live in a school bus. It's big, has a lot of windows, it's yellow." Scott was surprisingly easy to talk to.

"A school bus. Huh."

"I thought of that on the spot, it's not a long-term dream of mine."

"No, I see the appeal. I do think it's weird that you listed it being yellow as one of its positive attributes though."

"Holy shit. Holy shit!"

"What? What's the problem?"

You grabbed the book you spotted and held it out to him with your arms fully outstretched, it almost hit his nose. "Do you know what this is?"

Scott's hands appeared at the top of the book, and he pushed it down so you could see his confused expression. "A... book?"

"Very funny, Scotty, but no this is not just a book. This is a sequel."

He crossed his arms across his chest. "... 'Scotty'? I'm gonna kill Lee."

"Who's Lee?"

"Jubilee."

"If you can call her 'Lee' why can’t she call you 'Scotty'?"

"Because 'Scotty' makes me sound like I'm twelve!"

"Well, according to you, this scrunchie makes me look twelve. So I guess we're even, Scotty."

"I see why you and Jean are friends. You’re both evil."

"I called her evil not 10 minutes ago! Look at us, 'bonding' and all."

"Speaking of a 10 minutes ago, and that whole 'twelve' thing, I'm sorry."

"What do you mean?"

"Sorry for calling you twelve... and a wallflower. You seem... neat."

"Thanks... I think."

"Neat is a good thing."

"I'm kinda messy actually."

"I meant neat as in like- cool. Plus, you’re the first friend-ish person I've had that also wears glasses!"

You smiled at each other for a moment.

This was amusing.

He was amusing.

Unfortunately, someone popped the bubble encasing you and Scott. "Wow, 'friendish'? That's an upgrade from them low-key hating each other."

You whipped your head around to see Peter and Jean standing on the other side of the aisle, clearly having been observing and talking about you.

Scott spoke first. "How long have you two been standing there?"

"Long enough," Jean smiled. "You two get along."

"...So?" Scott asked.

"So, about an hour ago that seemed completely impossible."

An hour? That couldn’t be possible. "Wait, what time is it?"

Jean responded. "12:45, you’ve sure been chatting for a long time."

Scott cleared his throat and turned to you, "So, uh, you should buy that book, and then we should head to the movie theater room thingie."

You looked back at him. "Yeah! Ok, so... yeah."

After you and Scott walked away, Peter leaned over to whisper to Jean. "Well, that was a long glance. We've really gotta lock 'em in a closet together or something."

Jean shoved Peter, and you all went about your mall trip as you did before, except that now you might have a new friend... ish.

[deja-you]

times new roman | episode nine

t. jefferson x reader

summary: Y/n needs a date. Thomas would be more than happy to oblige.

word count: 2.4k

A/N: this chapter contains smut! if you’re not comfortable with that feel free to skip this chapter, it not technically necessary to the next part. 

also this is my first smut,, so read at your own discretion. wrote this all in one sitting idk what to think. but at least it was a fast update or something??

masterlist | previous | next

Y/n ended up picking out a sparkly, blue minidress. Peggy had insisted she buy it months ago, and now she finally had an occasion to wear it. Now that it was on, Y/n wondered why she had never worn it before. It fit her snuggly, accentuating all her best features. And when paired with heels? She felt like some kind of runway model. 

If the smile on her face when she looked in the mirror wasn’t enough to boost her ego, the look on Thomas’s face would have sent her over the edge. When she opened the door, he was wearing a confident smirk, but it dropped from his face when he saw what she was wearing. 

“Wow. I just... wow.” He stared at her with his mouth open. 

Y/n stepped out into the hallway and turned to close the door so he didn’t see the proud smile she has on. “Hm? Have I finally brought Thomas Jefferson to a loss for words?”

Thomas blinked a few times, shook his head, and attempted to recover. “I’m always at a loss for words when it comes to you, angel.”

“Annnndddd he’s back,” she laughed. “Let’s get to that speakeasy now, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

This time there was no awkward silence this time like there had been before their first official date. Thomas had asked Y/n out a few times since then, sometimes it was just for lunch or coffee, sometimes it was front row orchestra tickets. Despite all the dates, Y/n nor Thomas tried to define the relationship, both seemingly happy to have a casual thing between the two of them.

That didn’t change the fact that every time Y/n’s phone buzzed, her serotonin levels raised, and if the text did happen to be from Thomas, she wouldn’t even try to hide her smile. She had attempted to hide her smile before, but discovered it was too tiring an ordeal. 

It was true that they had grown quite close over the span of a few weeks, but they still insisted on keeping whatever their relationship was a secret from their friends, co-workers, and family. 

“Are we really making a detour to a bookstore?” Y/n asked as Thomas tugged her into a rundown shop. 

Thomas raised an eyebrow and glanced back at her. “Angel, what do you think a speakeasy is?”

She narrowed her eyes, wondering if he was trying to insult her or set up a trap. “It’s a secret bar.”

“Yes,” he nodded, “and it wouldn’t be much of a secret if the entrance was in an obvious place.”

Her mouth formed a small ‘o’ when the realization struck her. In the back of the store, Thomas approached a bookstore employee and tapped them on the shoulder. Thomas exchanged a few lines of a Shakespeare sonnet with the employee (a pretentious fact that Y/n made a note to make fun of him for later), and the employee was sliding open a bookcase a few seconds later. 

Thomas turned back to smile at Y/n, easily slipping his hand through her’s, and tugging her inside. The bookcase slid shut behind them. Y/n was shocked that a moment ago she had been standing in a quiet bookshop, and now she was standing in a lavish speakeasy. 

In one corner of the room, there was an arrangement of opulent lounge chairs. There was a bar in the back of the room where a bartender was mixing up elaborate cocktails, and a small crowd was gathered around him. Jazzy music filled the air, and occupants found any room in the small space to dance wildly with each other. 

Y/n wrapped her hand around Thomas’s arm, pulling him closer in case she lost him in the sea of dancing bodies. 

“I don’t know if I was expecting it to be so lively,” she spoke loudly in Thomas’s ear.

He shrugged. “It’s the grand opening, I doubt it’s always like this. Want to grab a drink?”

Y/n wanted to say something about the last time she had gotten drunk around him, but the truth is, she did want a drink, so she just nodded. Thomas gripped her hand and they journeyed through the sea of drunken dancers to the bar. After a few minutes, they were able to place their orders for drinks that sounded good in theory, but were more intimidating when the bartender lit the drink on fire. 

“So what do you think?” Thomas leaned against the bar, his eyes watching her carefully. 

Y/n grinned widely. “I love it here. Glad I didn’t decline your answer to go out tonight.”

“Did you really consider declining?” He laughed, feigning an offended expression. 

“The point is, I didn’t,” Y/n said, leaning forward and gripping his arm. “C’mon, let’s go dance.”

Thomas was in no position to deny her, and he happily allowed Y/n to pull him away from the bar and into the lively crowd. Y/n wasn’t an expert dancer, but Thomas made her look good, spinning and swaying in time with the music. She had her arms thrown around his shoulder, her fingertips lightly tapping a rhythm into the fabric of his back as she hummed along to the song playing. 

This close to him, Y/n could distinctly smell the scents of cedar and amber on him with a faint trace of cherry blossoms. It was like he had just walked out of the Library of Congress, and she would have believed him if he said he had. Thomas’s hands dug firmly into her skin, pulling her hips so they were flush against his. 

They continued dancing like this for a few songs, but by the time the third song came to an end, both of them were nearly out of breath.

“I think I need some water,” Y/n laughed, as their bodies parted slightly.

“I think you’re right,” he grinned. Something caught Thomas’s eye beyond Y/n’s shoulder, and he tapped her hip lightly. “I think I see my client over there, angel. I should go say hi. Would you mind getting me a glass of water as well?”

She stood on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear, “don’t take too long.”

Y/n released him and sauntered over to the bar, making sure to swing her hips with every step, knowing exactly the effect she had on Thomas. He cursed quietly under his breath and shook his head. 

Thomas wasn’t planning on spending too much time thanking his client for inviting him to the speakeasy, but now he had even more reason to make the conversation short. He couldn’t have been parted from Y/n for more than five minutes when he found her once more at the bar. 

The sight that greeted him wasn’t a pleasant one. A young blonde guy had found his way to her side, and he was leaning in a little too close. Y/n didn’t pay much mind to him, occasionally rolling her eyes at some cheesy pick-up line he was attempting. She felt Thomas’s gaze on her before she turned to see him staring at her a few feet away. 

One glance was all she needed to see how worked up he was just having another man talk to her. Y/n sent Thomas a coy smirk and turned to the blonde beside her with a newfound interest. 

“What was that you were saying, handsome?” She asked the blonde in a soft tone, her hand reaching up to lightly trace over his tie. Y/n glanced at Thomas, her grin widening a little when she saw his eyes narrowing and his fists clenched at his sides. 

“I was wondering if you wanted to come home with me tonight,” the blonde said, stunned at her change in attitude toward him.

“Hm, that’s an interesting off--”

Y/n felt a hand tightly grip the wrist of the hand she had absentmindedly playing with the blonde’s tie. She looked up to see a seething Thomas glaring at her. 

“Sorry, she’s already got plans for this evening.” Thomas didn’t waste anymore breath on the blonde, placing his hand on her lower back and leading her away from the bar. 

“I can’t leave you alone for a minute, can I?” He growled softly when they were out of earshot. 

Thomas brought her back into the crowd of dancers, but the mood had changed immensely since the last time they had been dancing. His hands were holding her body tightly as if he was afraid she might slip away. Y/n could feel the heat of his breath while he slid his hands up and down her body.

“I’m an adult, you don’t have to babysit me,” she shut her eyes momentarily, enjoying the feeling of his body against her’s. 

“I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t act like a child.”

Her eyes snapped open and she glared at him. “Bite me.”

Thomas didn’t miss a beat. “Where?”

Y/n gasped softly, her eyes going wide. Thomas didn’t wait long for a reply, pulling her body closer, if that was even possible, and placing his lips on the exposed skin on her neck. He lightly nipped at her skin, and Y/n refrained from letting out a deep moan, swallowing roughly instead. Her hand found the back of his neck and she pulled him closer to her. 

“Don’t talk to other guys like that,” Thomas’s voice was raspy as his lips pressed kisses against her skin. 

Framing his face with her hands, Y/n brought him up to look her in the eye, an eyebrow raised. Realizing his mistake, Thomas quickly rephrased. “Wait, no. I’m aware I can’t tell you what to do. I just... please don’t talk to anyone else like that. Not in front of me.”

“I don’t want to talk to anyone but you. You’re an idiot,” she smiled, “now kiss me.”

Thomas didn’t need to be asked twice. He held Y/n’s face in one hand, the other hand resting on her lower back. Thomas pressed his lips against her’s like her kiss was the oxygen he needed to breathe. His knee slid between her thighs, and she grinded against his leg on instinct. He groaned into the kiss, and the next thing Y/n knew, he had pulled away from her completely.

“We need to get out of here,” Thomas panted.

Y/n nodded. “Your place?”

“My place,” he agreed.

They exited the speakeasy in record time, and the cool air outside seemed to momentarily sober them up. Thomas was sure the Uber driver didn’t appreciate how handsy they were being in the backseat, so he made sure he tipped generously. 

When Thomas had closed his apartment door behind him, Y/n nearly jumped on him, your lips latching onto his. His hands slid up her legs, the electric blue dress she had been wearing began to bunch up around her waist. Thomas’s fingers slipped expertly into her panties, sliding them down her legs and to her ankles.

Thomas got down on his knees in front of her, tearing down a wall Y/n had tried so hard to keep up with every kiss he placed on the inside of her thighs. Y/n could feel her heart racing a hundred beats per minute in her chest as her head hit the the wall behind her. She reached a hand down to thread through Thomas’s hair, gently guiding him to where she needed him the most. 

He took the hint, his tongue sliding against Y/n’s pussy lips, once, then twice. Thomas successfully elicited an unrestrained moan from your mouth. Enjoying the sound, his tongue darted into her folds once more, his fingers digging bruises into her hips.

Thomas brought her close to the edge, then in some kind of telepathic way, he pulled away just as she was about to reach her climax. He continued this pattern a few more times until she couldn’t take it anymore and tugged at his hair.

“Thomas, please,” his name sounded like a prayer on her lips. “I need you to stop teasing me. I want you. All of you.”

He nodded in understanding, standing up and pulling her into his bedroom. Thomas’s hands found the hem of Y/n’s dress in the dark and pulled it over her head. Y/n began undoing Thomas’s belt buckle while he unclasped her bra and flung the garment into some forgotten corner of the room. His hands traced her body, memorizing every curve and indent and Y/n tugged down his pants. 

Thomas picked her up and threw her onto the bed. He tugged off his shirt before climbing onto the bed after her. Thomas pressed his lips to hers firmly, and Y/n willing returned the kiss. She ran her hand down his back, and Thomas’s hips bucked forward at the feeling. Y/n’s eyes widened slightly at the feeling of his large erection through his boxers. 

“You have protection?” She asked with a hoarse voice. 

“Yeah,” he murmured, climbing off of her to retrieve a condom from his nightstand. 

Y/n heard the crinkling of foil, then a few moments later she felt the bed dip under his weight and he was once more above her. He lined himself up at her entrance then paused, thumbing tracing the outline of her lips and eyes staring into her’s in a moment of raw intimacy. 

“You’re sure about this?” He said softly. “I’ll stop right now if you say the word.”

Y/n admired the way he searched her features for any trace of hesitance or doubt. She shook her head. “Don’t stop. Please, I need you--”

She was cut off with her own moan when he pushed his length inside her. Y/n gasped as she struggled to accommodate his large size. Her nails dug into his blood, and she wouldn’t have been surprised if she drew blood. 

“Oh, angel, you feel so good around me,” Thomas panted as he pumped in and out of her. 

Y/n didn’t even try to restrain her scream of his name when he began to pick up his pace, gaining speed and working through her body skillfully. His neighbors would not be happy with Y/n tomorrow, but she couldn’t care what they thought. She was in bliss.

“Thomas... oh god, Thomas...” Y/n struggled getting any coherent words out as she neared her climax, and Thomas wasn’t having any more luck. 

Thomas kept up at his rapid pace, and a few minutes later he was riding her through her orgasm. Y/n screamed out his name once more, and that seemed to push Thomas over the edge as he reached his climax as well. 

Y/n and Thomas stood still for a moment, panting. Finally, Thomas pulled out and got up long enough to throw the used condom in the trash before collapsing down at Y/n’s side where he belonged. 

“You’re perfect, angel. You’re perfect.”

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[honeypiehotchner]

i knew you (Bucky Barnes soulmate AU) -- part seven

Okay I feel like this is where the story gets a little CRAZY because I’m deadass ignoring canon from here on out. Who is canon? We don’t know her 

Anywho, I’m thinking this might have two or three parts left? I’m shit at estimating but this story is almost done :(

Warnings: I mean. Just the general stuff that’s been happening. More angst, because apparently they haven’t suffered enough

The Soldier sneaks the four of you out to some abandoned building. It’s strange, the way the Soldier acts. He’s cold and dry, a contrast from Bucky’s rollercoaster of emotions. The Soldier is quite literally a machine, and that’s exactly what you feel.

He never moves unless he senses you’re right there with him, and his steps even faltered once when your hand slipped as you were adjusting your grip. The Soldier doesn’t talk much at all, and it lacks any and all emotion, again, unlike Bucky.

You feel disgustingly traitorous gripping his arm and bicep like this, holding him so close, but you remind yourself that you don’t have another option right now.

Steve keeps sending glances your way, more frequently now that Sam is walking on his own and fully awake again. Sam is the lookout as usual, but Steve sends a sympathetic -- or is it pity? -- look your way every time you look to make sure they’re still following.

The building the Soldier takes you to looks like an old warehouse of sorts, with heavy machinery all rusted and scattered around. It’ll do the trick.

You slip your hand from his, letting go of his arm. The Soldier looks up at you, expectant, curious, waiting for his next orders. You try to keep your tears at bay when you look into his blue eyes. They’re Bucky’s, but they’re...not. He can’t stay this way.

Steve stands to your left, waiting to see what you’re going to do. It’s another long shot, but considering the other one worked, you might as well try this.

“Soldier,” you breathe shakily, feeling worse about this situation in general than anything else. “I’m ordering you to give Bucky control. Can you give him back to me?”

The Soldier nods, but doesn’t seem happy about it. “Yes.”

“Okay,” you clench your jaw, using all of your strength. “Do whatever you need to do.”

The Soldier nods once more. He sits down on the ground, legs outstretched. He leans his head against the wall and closes his eyes. You’re not sure if he’s passed out, but it looks like it, his shoulders slumping and head dropping to one side.

You feel the Soldier leaving him and you close your eyes, letting out a breath that nearly breaks into a sob. “He’s gone. He’ll be Bucky when he wakes up.” You look over at Steve, tears shining in your eyes. “I’m gonna take a walk. Come get me when you need me.”

“Y/N…” Steve says, but you’re already walking away.

You wrap your arms around yourself as you walk, hating that you miss the weight of Bucky’s arm around your waist. Hating that the Soldier is gone now, and hating yourself for hating that. The Winter Soldier can’t stay, you know that. The Winter Soldier isn’t Bucky, you know that. So why does this hurt so bad?

At least he would look at you. Hold your waist, hold your hand. The Bucky that’s in there now will insist he doesn’t know you, insist he doesn’t have a soulmate.

You cover your mouth to muffle your sob, not wanting the noise to echo.

You sit against the farthest wall, hidden behind some crane or something. You pull your knees up to your chest again, resting your chin on your knee as the tears start falling.

Steve told you what he figured out. Someone framed Bucky somehow because he wanted Bucky to be caught. He has no idea why anyone would want that, or how they got Bucky’s face to frame him, but he knows Bucky didn’t bomb Vienna.

You didn’t have the energy to tell him that you told him so at the time. You were too focused on savoring the feeling of your hand in Bucky’s, knowing it would be the last time.

You don’t know what the plan is next, but you know whatever it is, you’ll do it. You’ll get Bucky to safety and then you’ll...leave him alone.

It’s what he wants, after all. Even if he is lying about not knowing you, he’s still saying it. You doubt his turning into the Soldier will change anything, even if he protected you while he was the Soldier.

You have no clue why the Soldier said those were his orders -- protecting you. Or why he listened to you. If his orders are to protect you, why didn’t he stay with you that day in D.C.? Why did he run off then?

All of that aside, you need proof that the psychiatrist was posing as someone else. If you can get proof of that, and proof of how he got Bucky’s face, then Bucky is free of the bombing. Getting him free of everything else he did as the Soldier, though, that will be harder.

If he even wants it. He said earlier it was smart, a good strategy for them to come in and kill him. The last thing you want is to do something else to make him more pissed off with you.

But you have to do something.

Tears having subsided for now, you tug the neckline of your shirt down to fish for your object of desire that’s hidden in your bra. You smile when your fingertips connect with the metal, pulling it out.

You slap the device over your wrist. “Buckeye,” you whisper, and the AI comes to life. “I need you to do some digging.”

+++

Steve keeps watch through a small crack in the building. Helicopters circle overhead, no doubt searching for any sign of them.

“Hey Cap!” Sam yells.

Steve trots over with Sam to where Bucky sits, now trying to stand.

“Steve,” Bucky groans.

“Which Bucky am I talking to?” Steve asks cautiously.

Bucky thinks. “Your mom’s name was Sarah.” He pauses, the corners of his lips turning up in a smile. “You used to wear newspapers in your shoes,” he chuckles, the old forgotten memory appearing so vivid now when he looks down at Steve’s feet.

Steve sighs in relief. “Can’t read that in a museum.”

Sam stares at the pair incredulously. “Just like that, we’re supposed to be cool?”

“What did I do?” Bucky asks. 

“Enough,” Steve replies, refusing to elaborate.

“Oh, God, I knew this would happen,” Bucky mutters. “Everything HYDRA put inside me is still there. All he had to do was say the goddamn words.”

“Who was he?”

“I don’t know.”

“People are dead. The bombing, the setup. The doctor did all that just to get ten minutes with you. I need you to do better than ‘I don’t know.’”

“Where is she?” Bucky asks. “Where’s Y/N? I’ll tell you, I just-- Where is she?”

You’re already making your way over, having felt it when he woke. The rush of panic, not knowing where he was but knowing he had turned, and then the relief upon seeing Steve -- and probably also from being out of any restraints with no guns pointed at his face.

“Here,” you call out, making all three heads turn to you. You keep your distance, standing a little further back than Steve and Sam, your arms crossed over your chest. “What’s the plan?”

Bucky speaks before Steve can. “Did I hurt you?”

“Depends,” you say quietly.

He lowers his eyes to the floor. “Physically.”

“No,” you answer, too tired to start a fight. “Quite the opposite, actually. You wouldn’t let me walk two steps without you next to me.” You pause, shrugging. “Don’t sweat it. I know it wasn’t you, so. You can go back to insisting you don’t know me.”

“Y/N…”

“It’s fine,” you shake your head. “I know it’s a lot to deal with right now.” 

Sam nods, urging Bucky to continue. “She’s here. Keep going.”

Reluctantly, Bucky does. “The doctor… He wanted to know about Siberia. Where I was kept. He wanted to know exactly where.”

“Why would he need to know that?” Steve questions.

You can feel it inside of Bucky. The dread. You have a suspicion of his answer before he even says it.

“Because I’m not the only Winter Soldier.”

“There’s more of you?” You blurt, half panicked and half disbelieving. 

Bucky nods silently.

“Who were they?” Steve asks.

“Their most elite death squad,” Bucky continues. “More kills in HYDRA history. And that was before the serum.”

Sam nods at Bucky. “They all turn out like you?”

“Worse.”

“This doctor,” Steve says. “Can he control them?”

“Not right now he can’t,” you mutter.

“What?” Steve asks, turning his head to you. Sam shifts against the wall, uncrossing his arms.

“Well, since we’re getting secrets out of the way today,” you raise your wrist and tap the device. Above it appears a hologram, showing hospital footage. You ignore the looks of shock coming from every man around you. “That’s our guy. Colonel Helmut Zemo. He’s Sokovian. And currently in a coma.” You glance at Bucky, but he looks away. Sighing, you lower your arm, the hologram disappearing. “I’m gonna contact Tony. Say I lost you guys somewhere but that I know the truth about the doctor.”

Steve frowns. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I do,” you nod. “At the very least it’ll give you guys time to get the hell out of here if they aren’t willing to help. But I am gonna try to get this cleared up. I’ll call you.”

“Woah,” Sam stops you, holding out his arm. “Where the hell did you get that thing?”

“Stole it from Tony,” you chuckle. “It was broken, but I fixed it. I needed something to help me out since I was gonna be alone.” You pause, looking to your soulmate. “His name is Buckeye.”

Without another word or glance back to see if Bucky is looking, you turn on your heel and begin jogging to the exit point of the building.

Sam shakes his head. “That woman pulls something new out of her sleeve every damn day.”

Steve watches Bucky’s expression turn from sorrow to pain to longing in a matter of seconds.

“Why’d you say all that stuff earlier?” Steve asks. “That you didn’t know her, didn’t have a soulmate. I saw your journal. You still dream about her.”

Bucky looks down again. “She’s better off without me.”

“Did you ask her that?”

The question causes Bucky to meet Steve’s eyes again. “She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“Because she thinks you don’t want her,” Steve replies, remembering how hard you cried in the office. “Any other girl would’ve went running in the other direction after D.C., but she didn’t. Buck, she’s been holding out hope for the past two years that she’d see you again. And then when she did, you said you didn’t know her. How do you think that makes her feel?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Bucky says, still fighting it, despite the fact that he knows exactly how it makes you feel. He feels it, too. “I wasn’t even in Vienna, and look at all this. It’ll only get worse. I can’t put her through that.”

Steve chuckles, shaking his head. “This girl jumped off buildings for you today. You aren’t putting her through anything. She’s tougher than she looks.”

“A lot tougher,” Sam chimes, reminding the pair of best friends that he’s still there. “After today, man I would not want to get in a fight with that woman.”

Bucky laughs a little, but it dies out. “She’s mad at me.”

“She’ll forgive you,” Steve says, like he’s sure of it. “She already has, I think. She wouldn’t be helping us right now if she hadn’t.”

“He’s got a point,” Sam nods.

“She looks exactly like your drawings,” Bucky murmurs, looking up at Steve. “Got the hair wrong, though.”

“Really wrong,” Steve chuckles. “I met her at a museum. She was standing in front of the part they have for you.”

“She knew it was me?”

Steve nods. “Said she found out when her friend took her there. Seeing your face made it all click.” He pauses to shrug. “I don’t know how she did it. I mean, we thought you were dead three years ago.”

“I thought she would’ve moved on.”

“She won’t,” Steve says quietly. 

Bucky hears the underlying meaning. You won’t move on -- with him in your life or not. There will be no moving on. You don’t know that you’ll ever be able to let him go.

+++

The first thing that Tony Stark says when he answers his phone is not, “Hello,” or “Are you okay?” It’s--

“Where the hell are you?”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” you mutter, kicking a rock underneath your feet. You tucked your AI device back into your bra a moment ago. “I ditched the guys a while ago, been trying to get a hold of you since.”

“Where did you ditch them?”

“Hell if I know,” you reply. “I was too pissed off to look. But hey, where’s the psychiatrist?” You try your best to play dumb, not in the mood to tell Tony about your (his) AI device. Not yet, at least.

“At the hospital. He was beaten up pretty badly. Unconscious. Possible coma.”

“Gotcha. Have Friday look into him.”

“Why?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s not who he says he is.”

“Uh, can I get more information?”

“Can you give me a ride?” You ask impatiently. “And can you get Everett to listen to me about this? Secretary Ross, too?”

“Done and...maybe.”

“Whatever. Just get here.”

“I’ll have Friday start looking into it. And we’re almost there.”

“Thanks,” you exhale. “Where are you?”

No sooner than the question leaves your mouth, a black car pulls up to the curb. The window rolls down to reveal Tony in the passenger seat and Natasha driving. She looks...pissed.

You hang up the call and climb in the backseat. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Thanks for calling,” Tony replies, sounding like he means it for once. “So, Helmut Zemo?”

“Who?” You keep up the act. 

“Friday did facial recognition on the guy. His name is Helmut Zemo. He’s not a psychiatrist. Or German. He’s Sokovian.”

After having time to give it extra thought, you recall something. “Isn’t that the country you guys wrecked?”

Tony glares at you in the rearview mirror. That was clearly a sore spot. “Yes.”

“Only asking because now we know his motive, dumbass,” you roll your eyes. “Have them check his hotel room.”

“Why?”

“You wanna know more about a guy, you look at where he sleeps. Since he’s obviously not a German psychiatrist, we need to look at his hotel room. Gotta sleep somewhere when you’re out of town.”

“Getting the address now,” Tony sighs. “Friday, send this over to Secretary Ross and Deputy Task Force Commander Ross. Tell them we’re going to the hotel and to have police meet us there.”

Natasha flicks the sirens and lights on the car -- your first real sign that you’re in an undercover government vehicle -- as she floors it to the address Tony uploaded.

+++

As expected, the hotel room reveals exactly what you need it to.

Dr. Theo Broussard is found dead in the bathtub, a sight that makes you hurl into the toilet. You quickly flush and leave the bathroom, wiping the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. Of all the things you’ve seen and done today, of course, it had to be a dead body that makes you puke.

Tony eyes you worriedly. “You okay?”

“Fine,” you exhale, actually feeling better. “What else is here?”

A police officer speaks up, his gloved hands holding what looks like skin. “Facial prosthetics.” He places them down and together, and your gaze hardens.

“Who does that look like to you, huh?” You tap Tony’s arm.

The realization dawns on Tony’s face and he closes his eyes, muttering, “Shit.” Because he sees it perfectly. That’s Bucky’s face.

That’s so twisted, you think. What the hell kind of person does this?

Secretary Ross enters the room with the look of a man who hates being wrong. You’ll feel great pleasure rubbing it in that you’re right.

After he takes everything in, the dead psychiatrist, the prosthetics, Zemo’s identification, and on and on, he comes to you and Tony.

“We have some things we need to discuss.” He says it with his eyes on Tony, but you are having none of it.

You smile sweetly, humming. “I think we do, Secretary.”

[vampiresuns]

🍋 Two Is A Crowd, Three Is A Party | Amparo x Rodrigo x Jacqui

Written or the @midsummer-masquerade​, Day 5, using the prompt ‘degradation’ and a little bit of ‘lingerie’, if you squint. In which Amparo has no patience for Rodrigo, and Jacqui gets to know her a little better. 1.9k words.

Posting this one day late, because it got too late yesterday.

Rodrigo and Jacqui belong to @apprenticealec​, my beloved. You can read the rest of City of Delights here.

CW: Light degradation, oral sex, anal fingering, penetration, spitroasting.

After she had ran into him after her opening performance, Rodrigo lost no time suggesting they found their own little corner to fuck. Amparo snorted inelegantly, an incredulous and amused look on her face, while Rodrigo called Jacqui over, who excused himself to the people he was talking to and began making their way towards Rodrigo and Amparo.

“What?” He said, annoyance palpable. 

“I do not fuck in little corners, I’m not you. I have a room, you inelegant thot. Oh, hi Jacqui, long time no see!”

Jacqui kissed her knuckles to say hello to her, congratulating her on her performance. 

“Why, thank you! You don’t suppose you’d like to join us, would you?”

She began running patterns over his chest with her finger, ignoring Rodrigo who complained about not being given attention. Jacqui swallowed as Amparo’s tone became sweeter. 

“You wouldn’t leave me all alone with him, would you?” 

“I’m right here.” 

Amparo rolled her eyes. “You’ll take what you’re given, and you know I don’t like brats, honey. A valid quest, just not my cup of tea. So are you going to keep complaining, or do you want me to suck your dick while Jacqui fucks me?” 

Rodrigo and her bickered almost the entire way to her room. Like Rodrigo she didn’t mind not wearing a mask, though when Jacqui asked, she shot him a witty: “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to ask personal questions here?” 

He was about to apologise when she smiled at him — she had a wide, beaming smile that was very charming. She explained her reasons with ease, the same presence and poise he remembered from the time Rodrigo insisted into a theatre to rob someone rich who had something he wanted. It was petty, but he was determined. Rodrigo never found it. Instead he found Amparo. 

Or rather, Amparo found him. 

He didn’t know much about her, other than what she did for a living and the fact she was a Cassano. In that way, he knew more of her family than he did of her; whether she knew or not she didn’t say. From what Jacqui remembered she was not very prone to explaining herself. Ever. 

He had no chance to take the room in, because the moment they were inside, Rodrigo was already on it. He had waited long enough for his standards, so he was already kissing Amparo, rough and fast and a lot. Amparo still made him wait a little, solely so she could give Jacqui some attention of her own, but she still was going straight to the point. As soon as she could, she handed Jacqui a bottle of oil, telling him to make her feel good. 

She began fingering while the three of them exchanged kisses and Amparo took both Jacqui’s and Rodrigo’s dicks in her hands, sandwiched between them. As soon as she was ready, she told Rodrigo to lie back, as she moved to get on her hands and knees between them — she leant against Jacqui first, her lips parting as his cock sunk into her ass slowly. Once she felt comfortable, she got fully on all fours. However, Rodrigo was kneeling back on his heels, talking some talk about doing what he wanted.

Jacqui couldn’t see Amparo but he could feel her roll her eyes. 

Before he agreed to get into this, Jacqui would’ve never thought the hottest part was going to be Amparo taking none of Rodrigo’s bullshit. First, he tried to pull her hair, which she didn’t like so she pinched his inner thigh very unpleasantly, picking at the soft skin there with her fingernails. Rodrigo whimpered, which he denied. Jacqui almost stopped moving but Amparo told him not to.

“Oh no, handsome, I think he’ll like it best if I chew him out while he doesn’t just see you fucking me, but also when he can hear it in my voice.” 

Lo and behold, she was correct. Every time Rodrigo got too cocky, or too comfortable running his mouth, Amparo pinched him. She never just pinched him too, for every thing, she had a witty turn of phra. Some were witty, some were meaner, but all of them bothered Rodrigo one way or another in a way that was both really arousing and really funny. 

At some point Rodrigo threatened to leave. Jacqui knew him enough to know he didn’t mean it. 

“Leave them, you know brat aren’t my thing.”

“I’m not a brat.”

“Oh, my mistake — you preferred ‘loser’, didn’t you? The door’s wide then, because I don’t fuck losers. I’m keeping Jacqui, though.”

“Nuh-huh you’re not.”

“Yes, yes I am.”

Amparo wasn’t even touching Rodrigo any more, and yet Jacqui didn’t miss how his cock twitched. Neither did Amparo, who sounded incredibly unimpressed. 

“Seriously?” She sighed, though with how Jacqui was fucking her, it sounded more like a moan. “Do you want your dick sucked or not, Drigo?”

To Jacqui’s surprise, Rodrigo gave in. Amparo told him to remember: no more hair grabbing, which he didn’t, and to not get too frisky — which he did anyway, gaining him more thigh pinches, but at this point, Jacqui suspected Rodrigo was into it. Still, Amparo didn’t stop sucking him off now. Instead she swayed between them, the wet moans coming from her against Rodrigo’s dick as Jacqui began pressing against her prostate. 

The longer he thrust into her, the more her hands gripped Rodrigo’s thighs. Proper grabs this time, not the retaliation pinches she was giving him before. Rodrigo came first, Amparo swallowing around him and then whipping her mouth with the back of her hand. It didn’t take him long to leave afterwards, Amparo patting his cheek and telling him to “not be too unbearable” around the party. 

Once they were alone, Amparo asked Jacqui if there was anything he wanted, her demeanour changing from contrary, to the same stuff her beaming smile was made of. Jacqui took it slower, spooning her as they fucked, changing the position. Amparo took his hand to her chest, and turned her head to share indulgent, deep kisses with him. 

She came before him, but Jacqui followed soon after, kissing her neck gently as they both caught their breaths, enjoying each other’s company. 

“Do you mind if—?”

“You get up?” She said, finishing her sentence for him. “Not at all! Let me move.”

She did so swiftly but stayed on the bed, stretching with a pleased whine and lying there for a while. She told him to feel free to take a bath if he wasn’t ready to leave yet, she didn’t mind if he wanted to wind down. As always, she didn’t elaborate if that was politeness or an educated, albeit correct, guess. Jacqui wanted to ask, but didn’t, settling for getting in the bath instead, enjoying the water and the flowers floating in it. 

He could hear Amparo move in the background, shuffling around as she hummed a song Jacqui couldn’t recognise. She was an odd woman, Jacqui determined once they were alone. Even in loneliness she carried a presence to her, something he couldn’t quite place. Pizzazz was the closest word for it. Yet, despite her fiery personality and charming frankness, Amparo was not a talker. The moment the extrovert (Rodrigo) was removed from the room, she felt no need to talk. If Jacqui was being honest with his own observations, she didn’t even do so when Rodrigo was with them. 

To his embarrassment, she caught him staring. Amparo smiled at him again. 

“I don’t bite unless you ask, or you earn it.”

“Like Rodrigo earned his pinches?”

She shrugged. “That depends entirely on you.”

She asked him if he minded if she joined him in the bath. He didn’t. Without prompting, she let him know he didn’t mind him watching — a good look was just as powerful a form of flirting than any other. She was now wearing a deep red robe that was completely sheer, and that was casted aside before she sunk into the bath, giving out a little sigh of pleasure with the temperature. 

Keeping her hair out of the way, she lied into the water as much as she could, her piercing green eyes closed, and a placid expression on her face. 

After a while, she spoke again. “You have questions.”

“Which I’m sure you won’t answer,” Jacqui said, amused. 

“Smart man… but I like you, you’ve always been the nice one. So ask if you want, I promise to at least answer one.”

If that was how it was going to be, then Jacqui better think his question thoroughly. After some moments of consideration, he fired away: “I remember, I remember from when we met you with Rodrigo that someone asked you about your family. I don’t think they noticed you never answered their question, because you sounded really excited to talk about how much you appreciate them, but Rodrigo asked you about your cousin on our way here and you simply didn’t answer. Do you never talk about them?”

Amparo sat up, turning to face Jacqui, her green eyes looking directly at him. They were dark green, like a very lush forest after the spring rains, and very, very piercing. 

“You were a scholar, weren’t you not?”

Jacqui froze. 

“As I suspected. You don’t resemble them, in the slightest, I wouldn’t let you near me if you did. You’re too good for them, clearly… but I can tell that you were,” her tone was heavy, almost sad. It didn’t sound like pity, Jacqui felt like she wouldn’t be the type, but it felt like something else he couldn’t tell. Jacqui didn’t even want to ask what it was.

“How can you—?”

“Do you really think the Valerian Cassano didn’t teach us how to spot you? Even before the Valperga joined us, the Scholars and my family have not gotten along.”

Jacqui had to admit she had a point. He knew this. 

“I assume you do not speak of them.”

“Your family cannot be anything like them—”

Amparo interrupted him in a snap. “Of course they’re not. The Scholars do not deserve to walk the same soil as my family, but that wasn’t why I said it. You don’t speak of them because it is safer, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“So, what do you think Jacqui? I am very protective of my loved ones. I will not be one to bring harm to them.”

“Is all your family like this?” 

“Take a guess.”

Jacqui let out a snort, but he let the topic go, Amparo sinking back into the water and looking as if she had no intention to continue that line of talk. Eventually, Jacqui got up to leave the bath, but Amparo stopped him, peaking one eye open and smiling at him once again. 

“You know, if you’d like, I would not mind another round, if you’d like one too.” 

She paused to move towards him, the water moving around her with gentle sounds. She put her hand on Jacqui’s thigh, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. 

“I don’t have anywhere to be in a while, but the call is yours.” 

She began retreating, but Jacqui took her hand, softly pulling her back to him and kissing her. She immediately deepened the kiss; it had the same fire than before, but it lacked the rush — it was more like a constant flame, a steady movement. 

Naturally, Jacqui said yes.

[mrs-theirin]

understanding.

so uh this originally started as “hating rebecca hours”, then it was loving nate hours, and then suddenly at the last second it became.......mutually respecting adam hours??? so here we are. @magebastard this one’s for you <3

calliope langford x nate sewell / calliope & adam du mortain, 2585 words. mommy issues paired with getting to know your stuffy leader better (also on ao3 <3)

The apartment is quiet. 

Mind-numbingly quiet, actually.

“Stay home and enjoy yourself,” Tina had said, practically pushing Calliope out the door, a wide smile plastered on her face that said if you don’t go home right now I will end you. Even Verda came out from the lab to say goodbye, his gentle eyes hardened in a way that let her know there was no fighting him. 

She needs something to do. The apartment just isn’t the same without Farah’s laughter, Adam’s groans of distaste, the irritating clouds of Morgan’s smoke—which still lingers on everything she owns. Honestly, she’s going to take Morgan’s cigarettes and shove them somewhere unpleasant—and Nate’s warm, calming presence. She debates sending him a text, maybe asking him for coffee, but the idea leaves as quickly as it came. 

He’s probably busy. She’s sure he has more important things to do than—

Im bad at this texting thing. Coffee

Calliope laughs. Before she can respond, another text from Nate comes in.

That was supposed to be a question. I cant find the apostrophe or question mark. I would like to have coffee with you. 

Another text, separate from the last.

Now, if you can. I heard you were sent home from work and I know how much you like the pastries there.

Her heart races at the thought of Nate frantically typing away at his phone, confused but determined to send her a text. She must admit, it’s a hilarious image, and she laughs as she sends her response.

relax and look for the “123” on the left of the keyboard. you’ll find all your punctuation needs there. and yes, i’d love to go get coffee. meet me there?

Ah! Found it. Thank you. And no, I’m outside your apartment. 

Calliope straightens, deigning to push aside the curtain and peek out at the sidewalk. Sure enough, Nate stands awkwardly outside, staring down at his phone. His gaze flickers up as her hand makes the curtain dance, and he waves politely. She waves back. She mouths “be right there” and pulls away, cursing herself for looking outside in the first place. Did he just run here? Was he just outside her apartment when he sent the original text? Did he just assume she would say yes? 

She rushes to her bedroom, ripping the nicest—and hopefully subtle—thing she owns out of her closet and throws it on, stopping in front of the mirror to undo the messy bun she has her bright orange hair in and tussle it into something appropriate. She glances at the panicked look in her eyes, and tries to calm down. What is she freaking out for? It’s just Nate. 

I would fight through any form of technology if I knew you were on the other end.

Nate, who can make her face flush with just a few words. Nate, who towers over her, his warm brown eyes staring into her soul. Nate, who is patiently standing outside waiting to take her to coffee. She tries not to hold out too much hope that it’s a date.

“Hey!” she says when she finally makes it outside, unconsciously taking too large of a step and standing uncomfortably close to him, which she quickly rectifies by inching backwards. They both laugh nervously. “Did you—”

“I was in the neighborhood,” Nate rushes out, his face flushing. “It’s a beautiful day out.”

She accepts the obvious lie with a face full of heat. “Let’s go then.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She loves the way he laughs. 

At Haley’s, he relaxes; his shoulders slouching, his gaze softening. He is no longer scanning every person on the street, trying to gauge if they’re a threat. He is talking and he is joking and he is smiling and he is laughing. And every time he throws his head back to laugh at some stupid sarcastic joke she makes, she melts. 

He sighs dreamily, then faces her with soft, kind eyes. “I really missed you, Calliope.”

Her heart thumps in her chest. “I missed you too. You could’ve called, you know.”

His smile fades. “I wasn’t allowed to. The Agency thought it was better if we just...left you alone for a while.”

“So I could recover?”

Nate turns away, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah. That’s it.”

Before she can ask him to elaborate, she hears a familiar clack of heels behind her. Her body tenses. “Calliope,” her mother’s voice says, clear and professional, though surprised. She wasn’t expecting her daughter to be here. 

Calliope doesn’t even turn. Her hand clenches around her coffee and she clears her throat. “Rebecca.”

Something in her dies when she sees Rebecca take the seat next to her. It is crushed to ash as she turns to Nate, who is smiling kindly at Rebecca, ordering another pastry for her, inviting her to stay longer than Calliope prefers. Her mother hums gently. “Coffee date?” she asks, though there is something else in her voice. Something resentful. Something...cautious.

“And what if it was?” Calliope mumbles into her coffee, as Nate replies, “Oh no, just catching up.”

“You should be careful about how much time you spend in the open, Agent Sewell,” Rebecca offers, and it’s obvious why she’s saying it. Calliope begins to shake, as she always does around her mother, and washes her resentment down with her coffee. The warm liquid contrasts the coldness of her bitterness. 

It wasn’t always this way with Rebecca; there was a time where they laughed and smiled and shot each other with water guns. But eventually laughter dies out, smiles fade away, and water guns change to Glock 22s. Love changes to resentment. Dads die. 

She understands why secrets were kept. She hates that Rebecca doesn’t understand why she would be upset by the secrets that were kept. The way Rebecca’s eye twitches when Nate leans into Calliope is sign enough on its own. Can’t even be happy with the circumstances she has, apparently. 

“Of course,” Nate says, professional as always. “Understood.”

“Let the man...or, vamp, live,” Calliope retorts. “We’re just having coffee.”

Rebecca presses her lips together tightly. “Calliope. Do I need to remind you why you’ve been wearing turtlenecks for months?”

She chokes on her coffee, slamming the cup down on the counter, the paper crunching in her hand. Typical of her mother to remind her of trauma, trauma that deeply affects her, as if it’s just a statement she can throw out at any given moment, like a quick anecdote or conversation starter. How can one look at their daughter having her neck torn out by a killer vampire and think, “This will be good for future scoldings”? And her scoldings, well, of course they aren’t scoldings, they’re concerns. Worries from a concerned mother. A mother who was so concerned about her daughter that she left for years with no contact, leaving the local librarians to raise Calliope. 

Calliope tenses as she feels a hand on her shoulder, but deflates when she realizes what side the hand is on. Nate squeezes her shoulder affectionately, and she cannot thank him enough for being a rock. If Rebecca is the storm—cold, predictable, unrelenting—then Nate is the hearth; warm, welcoming, reassuring. He smiles softly at her. 

“Of course you don’t,” she finally speaks, subconsciously scratching at the scars. “But considering I’ll be working with the Agency again soon, getting coffee won’t matter much, will it? Or are you trying to say that I can only put myself at risk if I’m not having fun?”

Rebecca’s eyebrow twitches as she sighs. “I’m only trying to look out for you—”

“No, you aren’t.” Her voice is stern, but quiet. Don’t want to draw too much attention. That’s the way it’s always been, right?. “You’re looking out for yourself and your reputation as a ‘good mother’, but it’s all crap anyway. If you wanted to preserve that, you wouldn’t be begging me every 5 seconds to tell you you’re doing a good job.” 

“Calliope,” Nate gently warns, and she slowly shrugs his hand off of her shoulder. Now is not the time for another one of those sad, soulful looks he gives her when she argues with Rebecca. She doesn’t have the effort. 

Rebecca’s lips are thinned again, in that disappointed scowl Calliope’s seen so much of since this whole Agency business started. “Sweetheart,” she starts, and Calliope is already cringing away, already preparing herself for whatever pandering crap Rebecca is about to spew. “I want you to be safe.”

“But not happy, clearly.”

“Calliope Langford.” Rebecca’s voice is harsh, but it only manages to enrage Calliope more. Her mother isn’t stern often, usually grabbing for the ‘soft and meek’ route, but on the occasion she does show annoyance, it’s never a pleasant feeling. Not because it upsets Calliope, but because she knows it’s a ruse. If she holds out, her mother will give in, because they both know she can’t stand being the bad guy (despite making herself the bad guy in every single conversation they have). “This is dangerous business. I don’t want to see you hurt. I do love you, whether you believe me or not.”

Calliope stands abruptly, slapping a $20 bill on the counter. “Why don’t you concern yourself less with whether I believe you, and more with whether you believe yourself. Come on, Nate.”

She starts to walk away, but hesitates when Nate doesn’t immediately follow, out of his seat but hunched over, like a kicked, obedient puppy. A twinge of betrayal tugs at Calliope’s chest, but she waves it off, instead holding up her hand, exasperated. She leaves without another word. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The phone rings.

Once. 

Twice. 

Three times. 

Calliope sighs in exasperation, about to hit the red ‘end call’ button, when the phone finally clicks, a stern, professional voice coming through as clear as day: “Special Agent Adam du Mortain. Is this something important?”

She rolls her eyes, unable to keep the smile off of her face. “It’s just me, Adam. You don’t have to answer the phone like that.”

“Is this something important,” he repeats, though this time it’s less of a question. 

She gives in. “I was wondering if you wanted to spar. You said you were...less than impressed with my combat skills, so why don’t you teach me?”

The line is silent for a moment, before Adam lets out a small huff. “Where?” 

She blinks. She hadn’t thought of that. “...Here?” she offers, uncertain.

He sighs heavily. “Open the door.” 

The call ends and she is rooted in place for a moment before she springs up from her couch, opening the door and peeking out. Adam is standing on her stairs, looming over her, and he raises a single eyebrow, making the action of entering her apartment. She steps aside and watches him analyze the living room. “Move the table,” he says.

“You’re the one with the super strength,” she jokes, closing the door behind her. “Can’t you do it?”

He glares at her. “Are you serious about training with me?”

She straightens under his gaze, nodding sharply. “Yes,” she responds, though it comes out like a nervous question.

“Then move the table. And slide the couch away too. We need plenty of room.”

She salutes him, tying her hair back into a high ponytail. “Can do!”

He groans. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why didn’t you call one of the others?” Adam asks, crossing his arms and staring down at the panting, sweating Calliope, who is holding onto her knees for dear life.

“Oh, you know—” she says between heavy breaths. “You’re starting to grow on me.”

“Your form is poor.”

“Oh, I know!” she wheezes. “You actually told me that, a bunch of times, like two seconds ago.”

If she didn’t know any better, she can swear she sees a ghost of a smile threatening to appear on Adam’s lips, then it’s gone as quickly as it came. He regards her with complete and utter disappointment. “They would’ve been nicer.”

“Ah, but nice isn’t what I need. I need to learn how to fight.”

This time Adam does actually smile, though it’s still not quite a full smile, more like pride over seeing a lesson learned. He cocks his head to the side. “It could also be that you’re fighting with Nate.”

She hesitates for a moment before scoffing. “I’m not fighting with Nate. Fighting would require words, of which there were none.”

Her two seconds of hesitation were enough for Adam, because he nods his head sharply, and scowls. “Figure it out. I don’t want you two at odds next time we’re all together.”

“Why?” Calliope drags the table back to its original spot, collapsing on the couch with a heave. “I thought I was a distraction.”

He joins her on the couch, his posture as formal as ever, the distance an obvious sign of something. “You are a distraction. But you’re more of a distraction when Nate is running through his mind trying to make up a list of ways he can make it up to you.”

“Make what up to me?”

“You’d have to tell me that.”

The two stare at each other before Calliope sighs, smiling. “Thank you for coming over. You didn’t have to.”

“I don’t have to do anything I don’t wish to,” he simply says, and she rolls her eyes.

“Loosen up a little sometime, huh? I think it would do you good.”

“Then you and I will have to have differing opinions.”

A knock sounds at the door, and Calliope starts to stand, but Adam takes the lead instead, gesturing for her to stay put. She doesn’t put up a fight, after all, her body is aching and all she really wants is a nap right now, maybe a 3 day slumber. When the door opens, she strains her ears to hear the soft mumbles of whoever is at the door. Adam’s voice is strong, and overshadows the meeker, much quieter voice of the person—no, woman, that’s a woman’s voice—standing at the door. A few more minutes pass until Calliope finally hears Adam say, “I think you should leave,” and shuts the door. When he returns, she gives him a curious smile. 

“Who was that?” she asks, and he shakes his head. 

“No one important. It’s late, I should leave. Goodnight, Detective Langford.”

She stops him before he can zip out. “Adam, honestly. You can call me Calliope. I promise you won’t implode.”

He hesitates, gears in his head clearly turning, then gives in, his shoulders visibly relaxing. “Goodnight, Calliope. You did well.”

“You’re lying to me!” she calls after him, and he says nothing as the door shuts behind him. She lets out a soft, incredulous laugh. Well, at least one good thing happened today. 

She heads to the light switch, peeking out of the window just for a second to try to catch a glimpse of the woman Adam had sent away. Her heart drops into her feet as she sees the car she knows too well. Rebecca sits in her car, taking a deep breath, and eventually starts it up and drives away, shaking her head. Calliope is frozen at the window. 

It was Rebecca at the door. Rebecca, who Adam...turned away? Told to leave?

She takes a moment to suck in a deep breath, letting out a loud sigh. Huh, she thinks, turning off the light and heading to her shower, eager to wash off the grime and sweat of training. Maybe he’s not so bad after all.

[thepancakeboi]

96. “I saw that. You just checked me out.”

“That takes care of that,” I remark as the leopard-like Shadow crumbles. It explodes into black wisps from Robin Hood’s power piercing its chest. If this is the strongest that Sae’s Palace has, then this will be easier than I thought.

Mona looks up at me. “You’re not so bad,” he remarks.

“And I am capable of much more,” I reply, letting a little bit of my cockiness show. Much more than they can possibly imagine, more than the Phantom Thieves will ever see. “Now then, let us deal with the Shadows quickly.”

“Wait,” Panther interrupts. “Doesn’t it sound like we’re gonna get ambushed based on what we heard earlier?”

“I agree,” Queen adds. “I’d like to deal with them as quick as we can... But now that we have an infiltration route, I’d suggest we return for now and prepare.”

Her suggestion makes sense, even if I know I could tear my way through this Palace on my own power. “Very well, I trust your experience and judgment. Let us do that.”

With a nod, Joker says, “Let’s go.” Everyone begins to depart, but I continue to stand by the elevator. Something has been on my mind, and it has been bothering me since our outfits first changed. Joker is the first to notice my absence. He stops. A worried look appears on his face. “Crow?”

“Yo! You comin’, Joker?” Skull calls out. He is waiting by the stairs heading up alongside the rest of the thieves.

“Go on ahead. We’ll meet you at the entrance,” he replies with a wave of his hand. They obey without another word, although Mona gives a somewhat concerned look at us before leaving. Joker waits until they’ve left before asking, “What’s wrong?”

Now that it’s just us, I walk right up to Joker, getting almost in his face. I’m finally able to confirm my suspicions. “You’re taller than me.”

“Hmm? I’ve always been taller.”

“No, I distinctly remember you being slightly shorter than me by about an inch.”

“I grew.”

“In the last two minutes?”

“Yes?”

“I highly doubt that.” I take a step back and look down at his boots. As I suspected, they have a rather noticeable heel on them. “Really, Joker? Really?”

“What?”

“Are the heels truly necessary?”

“Maybe. Why?” he asks and, with a smirk that only Joker can pull off, rests his arms on my shoulders as he whispers the next question in my ear. “Does it bother you that I’m taller?”

“We should probably leave now,” I blurt while pulling away from him. This close proximity is sending shivers down my spine, and I don’t have the time to investigate why that is. Besides, there’s no way I’m giving him the satisfaction of knowing that, yes, it does. It irritates me immensely. It already bothers me that Fox is taller, although at least he never mentions it. He doesn’t care. Joker, meanwhile, is the type of person who would probably wear heels in the real world just to mess with me. I’m not letting that become a possibility.

“Okay.” I’m surprised that he leaves it at that. He turns and walks over to the stairs. I don’t initially follow after him. Something about the Phantom Thief leader is grabbing my attention, though what is it? Is it the way he exudes confidence that Ren normally represses? Perhaps it’s the way he holds himself like he’s about to take on the entire world and win in style just because he can. Or maybe it’s his outfit that I’m now taking notice of. One of these days those flaps on his coat are going to get stuck in a door. Oh wait, is it-

“I saw that. You just checked me out.”

I blink, startled. I hadn’t even realized that Joker’s now leaning on the stair railing, looking back at me with mild amusement. “I did not,” I say, barely refraining from snapping the response.

“Yeah, you did.”

“I was not checking you out.”

“Then what were you doing besides staring at my ass?”

“I was not staring.”

“Were too.”

“No. I simply noticed you walk like a girl.” At the confused tilt of his head, I elaborate. “The coat mostly obscures it, but you definitely sway your hips while walking.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Excuse me, but I don’t have a feminine walk nor heeled boots like you do.”

“Maybe not,” he acquiesces, but he doesn’t seem bothered by his admission. He strides over to me, placing his hands on my hips. What is he scheming? The cheeky smirk that creeps onto his face concerns me. “But you do have feminine hips.”

I stare at him, flabbergasted. “W-What?”

“You heard me.”

His hands shift ever so slightly. The movement draws my attention back to the sensation. I can hear him chuckle as I tilt my head down in an attempt to hide the blush dusting my cheeks. “How would you even know something like that?”

“I see things, and you didn’t deny it.”

“It should be obvious that your statement is false.”

“You also have feminine hands,” he adds, taking my left hand in his right. His other hand is still on my hips. His fingers tap idly against my side as he looks deep in thought. “Is that why you wear those gloves all the time?”

“That is not the reason. Besides, my hands are completely normal.”

“Then why do you?”

“Am I not allowed to wear them just because I like them?” I yank my hand away and push Joker’s hand off my hips before he gets any ideas. His lower lip twitches a little as if he’s bothered by this. I pretend I don’t notice this trivial change. Why does it matter anyway? It’s not like I care or anything. “It’s definitely not because of something like having slender hands. Your assumption is wrong.”

Something about this seems to snap Joker out of whatever sour mood he was just in. “But you do, and it’s perfect.”

I’m foolish enough to take the bait he’s laid for me. “How would such a thing be perfect?”

“Because,” he says while grabbing ahold of both my hands this time, “they fit so well in mine!”

My face flushes red at his response. It’s even worse because he is correct. Something about this gesture seems right...like it’s meant to be this way. I want nothing more than to agree, but this isn’t going to end in a way he desires. Instead, I respond, “You’re delusional.”

“No, I’m not. Weren’t you the one who said ‘we seem to share some kind of bond’?” Those were my exact words a couple of months ago. How he remembers I have no idea. He brushes a hand along my cheek, his smile turning into a smirk as my face heats up even more. “And I didn’t imagine that. You’re blushing, aren’t you?”

“I’m not.”

He beams, seeing right through my lie. “You are! And quite adorably too! You’re so cute!”

“I’m not-” I repeat, scowling. Does he really think that? I hate that I love the possibility. He chuckles in response. “What is it, Joker?”

“You’re cute when you’re angry.”

“Stop calling me cute.”

“Okay...cutie,” he says while tousling my hair with his free hand.

“Joker-” I try to smooth it down, but he grabs my hand in his own. It’s all too tempting to take my mask and jab him in the eye for this. That wouldn’t be very becoming of an ace detective, though. “I’m not cute.”

“You are too. Did you not see your reaction to finding out the calling card is for more than show?”

“That doesn’t mean I’m cute,” I mutter. Perhaps I went a little overboard on my ‘reaction’. “I told you to stop calling me cute.”

“But I didn’t call you cute earlier.”

“Cute and cutie are practically the same thing.”

“You didn’t say I couldn’t call you a cutie.”

I hate that he has a valid point. “Stop calling me cutie then.”

“Adorable?”

“No.”

“Beautiful?”

“Also no.”

“Precious?”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Love of my life?”

“Stop joking around, you menace.” If he’s trying to get to me, it’s working. I need to end this conversation now. “The others are probably wondering where we are. Let’s go.”

“Yeah.” He lets go of my hands now. I don’t miss the warmth of his hands holding mine. I don’t. He snickers as he proceeds to walk away. I’m confused as to why at first. It’s then I notice his gait. Is the hip-swaying from earlier more...exaggerated this time? When he turns his head and gives me a flirtatious wink, I know that he did it entirely on purpose. I shake my head as I follow after him, knowing I’ll only have to suffer through this for just another month. One more month, though maybe...no. I can’t stop now. Even if this feels so...perfect.

Prompt list

[theshatteredrose]

Relic Keepers: Awakening of the Red Lily (Chapter 28) - Original Fiction

AN: I am so sorry it took me this long to get this chapter out! The usual excuses, I’m afraid. I am dedicated to finishing this story, and I promise I won’t leave it hanging for like a year or something. With that said, hope you enjoy reading~

Ao3 | Wattpad | Inkitt | FictionPress

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Chapter 28:

Eishirou sat on the edge of an infirmary bed. His jacket laid out on the bed next to him, his t-shirt on his lap as Neriah wound medical tape around his right shoulder. The pain had subsided, but that was due entirely to the pain medication he had received the moment he was brought to the infirmary.

Jacob was the one who near literally whisked Eishirou to the infirmary, leaving Zayne at the museum with the Star Rebellion follower.

He had no idea what was going on outside this examination room. Sigmund had been called to deal with the situation. The rest of Team 3 had also been called in order to offer assistance should it be needed.

Neriah was the only person in the room with him. The only insight he could offer him was his diagnosis of his injuries.

“Nothing is broken, thankfully. But it was close. It’s going to be sore for a few days. So, be sure to take your pain medication.”

Eishirou offered the professor a small smile. “Sure,” he said as he immediately struggled to pull on his t-shirt.

The low ache of pain and stress was still there, but nothing like it was. That sharp, jagged jolt of pain he felt when it first happened was extraordinary. He hadn’t felt anything like it. And to think, his attacker simply tossed him aside. Literally.

He didn’t even want to consider what they would have done to him if they had set out to hurt him.

“Now.” Neriah’s voice quickly turned stern. The tone of voice he would take just before he would launch into a lecture. “Have you been eating properly?”

Eishirou dutifully nodded his head. “Yes.”

Neriah gave him a look that was uniquely cynical and interrogative. “Really? When was the last time you ate?”

“It was…”

Last night. He accidentally skipped breakfast that morning. Whoops!

Ah, crap. He had to tell Neriah that, huh? M-maybe he could talk his way around it to avoid a lecture? No, that wouldn’t work. Maybe blurt it out and beg for mercy?

“Hey.”

Eishirou just barely caught himself from uttering a sigh of relief when Jacob walked into the room. Jacob’s timing was perfect once again!

“How are you doing?” he asked as he immediately gave Eishirou a concerned, inspecting look.

“I’m all right,” Eishirou replied instinctively.

“For now,” Neriah added as he picked up Eishirou’s jacket to drape over his shoulders. “Those painkillers will wear off eventually.”

Jacob frowned. “How bad?”

“Not too bad, thankfully. He’s going to have a few bumps and bruises, though. His shoulder received the worst of it. His wrists are going to have the darkest bruises, though.”

Eishirou immediately glanced down at his wrists and winced. Yeah, the angry red skin was beginning to turn into an ugly purple. Typing, basically anything with his hands was going to hurt.

It was likely that his attacker knew that, so targeted him that way on purpose.

Jacob dragged a chair over toward the bed and sat down in front of Eishirou, a very serious expression on his face. “What happened?”

Eishirou sighed as he subconsciously tugged his jacket closer around him. “They were after the Red Lily.”

A wrinkle immediately appeared in Jacob’s brow. “Are you sure?”

“They demanded to know where it was. That’s pretty clear.”

“Indeed.” The frown on Jacob’s lips deepened and he leaned back into the chair. “Now, why would they want with a relic?”

That was a good question. They, of course, wouldn’t tell him. And that led to so many other questions. The most troubling question he had was why did they know they could go through him to get to the Red Lily?

The sound of someone striding purposefully down the hall just outside the room caught Eishirou’s attention. The sound was oddly familiar to him and he looked over at the door expectantly.

Sure enough, it was Zayne who appeared in the doorway, hand on the frame and a worried frown on his face.

“Eishirou?” Zayne questioned as he moved into the room.

“I’m all right,” Eishirou automatically replied as he reached out a hand toward Zayne.

But soon regretted it when his shoulder ached sharply, prompting him to grimace and clutch at his shoulder. And that propelled Zayne to his side, crouching near the bed with obvious worry on his face. Much like the first time Zayne had visited him in the infirmary.

He actually felt a prang of guilt with that memory. The second time he had worried Zayne unwittingly. Both times he couldn’t exactly help. He knew that. So, the guilt was irrational. But as illogical as it was, he still felt it and made the silent promise to make it up to Zayne somehow.

“Just a few bumps and bruises,” he tried to reassure with a small smile.

Of course, Zayne wasn’t exactly convinced and still looked sincerely worried as he sat down onto the bed next to him.

“What happened to that guy?”

“He’s under surveillance.”

Sigmund was the one to answer as he abruptly stepped into the room.

He made no attempt to elaborate further. And from the tone of his voice, Eishirou didn’t want to know where, what they were planning to do, or what state his attacker was in. As nosy as he was, some things were better off not knowing.

“Care to explain what happened?” Sigmund went on to ask him.

Eishirou took a moment to gather his thoughts before he heaved a sigh. He started from the very beginning. From when he entered the museum to when he felt a presence, and to how he was accosted. He tried to give as much detail as possible as he knew anything and everything could be vital to learn more about the motive.

The men in the room all had varying degrees of protectiveness when Eishirou went on to explain what happened when he was attacked. Zayne’s bristle was the most obvious of the four, with Jacob and Neriah an equal second. Sigmund simply narrowed his eyes, his gaze hardening into a stoic expression that Eishirou couldn’t even begin to describe.

Their expressions changed a moment later when Eishirou moved onto how he had used the Sound Orb in his desperate attempt to escape.

“After that, they threatened to kill me, so I ran. That’s when Zayne appeared. He took care of things from there.” Eishirou sighed and twisted his hands in a nervous motion upon his lap, feeling winded from simply explaining everything. “That’s all I know.”

The room fell silent, each occupant taking the time needed to fully comprehend all the information Eishirou had just given them.

“They’re after a relic?” Sigmund’s musing broke the silence. “Hm. I’ll have Elites patrolling around the museum for the next few days. And it appears that Eishirou here will need a bodyguard.”

A knowing half-grin suddenly appeared on Jacob’s face. “He already has one.”

Sigmund arched a questioning eyebrow. “Hm?”

“He obviously means me,” Zayne responded with a light snort. As if it was all so apparent.

“Well, it makes sense since you room together, hm?”

Sigmund’s expression remained stoic, but he did raise a questioning eyebrow. “Roommates?”

“That’s right,” Zayne answered swiftly in defensiveness. Sounding as though he was willing to rebuke anything negative that Sigmund could or would respond with.

Instead, Sigmund furrowed his brow, mildly confused. “I see. Well, it’s safe to assume that the attack from yesterday is connected to the one of today. And it is Eishirou who was their primary target.”

Eishirou was unable to prevent himself from wincing. He had felt as much moments after the attack. He wasn’t exactly thrilled knowing that his hunch had been right.

“Honestly, all this fuss over a relic,” Neriah suddenly commented, pure exasperation in his voice. “Is it really that special?”

“We have absolutely no idea,” Jacob grumbled as he roughly scratched at his head. “It’s unwilling to reveal its secrets.”

It wouldn’t reveal its secrets until certain conditions were met. That was what Jairus believed from their session yesterday.

A troubled expression suddenly appeared on Neriah’s features. “If you are yet to work it out, why are those Star Rebellion followers so intent on it?”

Jacob immediately stilled, and so did Eishirou. That was a very good question. And a disturbing one at that.

…Did the Star Rebellion know something about the Red Lily that they didn’t?

“Who were they?” Eishirou directed that question toward Sigmund. “The one who attacked me?”

“We’re still attempting to establish that. They’re unwilling to talk, unsurprisingly,” he answered gruffly. He glanced over at the clock on the wall and frowned. “I best return. Perhaps now, they will talk.”

Highly unlikely.

Zayne didn’t move from his spot and Sigmund made no attempt to order him to follow him. Instead, he simply turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. Back straight, shoulder’s back; he was definitely a man on a mission.

Eishirou almost felt sorry for his attacker. Almost.

“Eishirou.” The serious tone of Jacob’s voice caused Eishirou to immediately turn to him. “How did you use the Sound Orb?”

That was a fair question. “I remembered a recording I viewed earlier. It said something like; 'The right hands to hinder the wrong ears'. So, I focused my intent on the Sound Orb only affecting the one attacking me. And only them.”

And it actually worked. Thank goodness that it did!

“That would explain why we heard the sound but not affected by it,” Jacob murmured as he held his chin in a pondering stance. “Interesting.”

Neriah clapped his hands sharply to gain everyone’s attention. “Enough musing and pondering for today,” he said as he sent Jacob a pointed look. “You’ve got work to do back at the museum.”

Jacob raised his hands in a surrendering manner. “Right, right.”

“And you,” Neriah continued as he turned to give Eishirou the same pointed stare. “You are to return to your room and get some rest. I don’t want to see you in any classes for at least two days.”

Eishirou couldn’t help but pout. “Ah, so I have two days off, then?” Was he going to do? Staying put and just being still wasn’t exactly his thing.

Neriah heaved a sigh and his shoulders drooped in exasperation. “Anyone else would be thrilled with having days off,” he muttered as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “But not you researchers. Honestly, you’re a breed of your own.”

Rude. Though, it was probably true.

“Zayne, get him out of here and make sure he doesn’t try to sneak in some research,” Neriah went on to order.

An amused smirk made its way to Zayne’s lips and he nodded. “I’ll do my best,” he promised.

Zayne then wrapped an arm around Eishirou’s back and helped him to his feet. Eishirou was glad for the support as his head throbbed from light-headedness and he had to fight off the urge drop back down onto the bed. He honestly feared for a moment that he was going to faint.

He hoped that no one else had caught onto that little stumble. But, of course, he was wrong. Zayne tightened his arm around his back, his hand pressed against his side, while Neriah also reached out to steady him. He wasn’t alarmed, however. He simply prattled off his orders and handed over a box of painkillers he would need to take every six hours.

A few minutes later, Eishirou was being escorted through the gardens of the Academy toward the dorms once more. Zayne continued to keep him close to him, his gaze alternating between looking at their surroundings for any threats. And toward him in concern.

Eishirou felt that prang of guilt once. “Sigmund seemed surprised that we’re roommates.”

Zayne, however, simply shrugged nonchalantly. Completely unconcerned about Sigmund’s reaction. So, Eishirou decided to drop it altogether. If Zayne wasn’t concerned, he didn’t need to be either. Though, thinking about it there was no need to have any concern anyway, right? It wasn’t like there was an iron-clad rule stating that Elites and Passives couldn’t be roommates.

There might be such a rule in that stupid, hypocritical Academy Hierarchy. But those who worshipped such an obnoxious set of rules weren’t worth worrying about.

The rest of the journey to the dorms was made in silence. There were thankful very few people roaming about. The less people to witness him in such a state, the better. He didn’t want any more gossip to make the circlet around the Academy. It might reach the ears of the Star Rebellion, after all.

He didn’t know much about them, but he was fairly certain that if they knew about his injuries, they would immediately make their move.

“Get some sleep,” Zayne suggested as he took a moment to ensured that the door to their room was closed and locked tightly behind them. “You didn’t get much last night.”

Eishirou turned toward him and shrugged off his jacket. “Ah, well, you didn’t either.” As he dropped his jacket to the end of his bed and sat down himself, he felt another wave of light-headedness wash over him.

“But now that you mention it, I feel exhausted all of a sudden,” he muttered as he kicked off his shoes. “It’s probably because of the painkillers.”

He ignored the desire to simply flop down onto the bed, instead lowering himself slowly so not to bring himself more pain. He laid his head upon the pillow and closed his eyes. He half expected to lay there for a few minutes, simply trying to get comfortable.

Instead, as soon as his head hit the pillow, he dropped off to sleep.

When Eishirou opened his eyes again, the room was far darker than before. It was the type of darkness that came from evening, not just from the closing of the blinds. He remembered it being around lunchtime when he returned to his room. Had he slept that long?

He supressed a groan as he rolled onto his side. His vision was still slightly blurry as he looked over at Zayne’s side of the room. However, Zayne was not on the bed. Instead, he was in a crouched position in the middle of the floor. Focused entirely on the door of their room. In his hands, his holsters. Grip tight, shoulders tensed, completely still.

Eishirou lifted his head up off the pillow. He looked just like he had last night. Was he on alert again?

“Zay-?”

“Shhh,” Zayne suddenly hushed him, indicating that he was completely conscious. “There’s something out there.”

Eishirou slowly pushed himself into a sitting position and glanced over at the door. He couldn’t see anything, obviously. Just a dim beam of light from under the door. The light was unbroken, indicating that there wasn’t anything just outside the door.

But Zayne wasn’t reacting to nothing. He was fully conscious. He was reacting to something.

The sudden buzz of his communicator alerting him to a message caused Eishirou to jump, jarring his shoulder in the process. He hissed in pain as he grabbed his shoulder. He mused mildly to himself that he was likely due to take another dose of pain medication, and it was likely Neriah who messaged him.

But as he checked, he was surprised to find that it was from Katsuto, the dorm superintendent. And the message wasn’t good.

“Oh…” Eishirou felt his heart sink.

“What?” Zayne asked, his voice low and his attention focused toward the door.

“It’s an alert telling Passives to stay in their dorms,” Eishirou winced.

“ShadowDwellers?”

“Yeah. We’re in lockdown.”

Zayne replaced one of his holsters into his leg holder and reached out a hand in Eishirou’s direction. Eishirou gazed at his open hand for a moment before he slipped in his own and allowed Zayne to pull him toward him. As Zayne pushed himself to stand tall, he pressed Eishirou tightly against his side and wound an arm around his waist.

“What do you usually do in lockdowns?” he asked as he pulled Eishirou with him away from the door.

“Turn off the lights and hide,” Eishirou answered as he grasped at the front of Zayne’s shirt with his left hand.

Zayne didn’t immediately reply. He appeared as though he waited for more information. When Eishirou didn’t offer anything more, as there was none to give, he gave him a frustrated look. “That’s it?”

Well, what else could they do?

“Passives can’t fight, remember?”

“This is ridiculous; you’re all sitting ducks here,” Zayne muttered angrily as he manifested his gun-blade and held it offensively toward the door. “Are there any other Elites here?”

Eishirou shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of.”

“Great. I’m literally the only Elite here.”

Eishirou tightened his grip on Zayne’s clothing. He hoped the lockdown was just a false alarm. That there weren’t any ShadowDwellers actually inside the building. But…Zayne’s reaction. He wouldn’t have reacted in such a way if there wasn’t a threat to be found somewhere, right?

He could only hope that the other Passives in the dormitory were going to be all right.

He stayed pressed against Zayne’s side as seconds ticked by ever-so slowly. Zayne kept an arm around his back, keeping him close for both protection and comfort. Reminding Eishirou that he was lucky to have Zayne there with him. He couldn’t imagine going through something like this on his own.

Sitting alone in the pitch-darkness, waiting for either the lockdown to be lifted. Or to come face to face with a ShadowDweller. And not being able to do anything about it.

Zayne suddenly tensed and held Eishirou tighter. Eishirou wasn’t sure of his reaction at first. Until he heard it. There was a noise just outside the room. A strange noise. It sounded like scurrying. And yet, the movements sounded sloppy and wet.

The single beam of light at the bottom of the door was abruptly overtaken by darkness. It covered the entirety of the light.

“Whatever happens, do not let go,” Zayne whispered to him.

Eishirou could only nod his head. Though his shoulder ached in protest, he turned so that he was pressed against Zayne’s chest, gripping at his jacket with both hands.

Another noise unexpectedly erupted from the door. A noise that could only be described as a monstrous groan of excitement. As if the ShadowDweller had found what it was after. And they were moving in.

A sticky sound followed. Like that of someone walking through thick, dense mud. Then a black mass began to bubble up from the lower gap of the door. Seeping its way into the room. Bubbling across the floor like a muddy stream.

That noise. That movement.

It sounded just like those Humanoid ShadowDwellers that ambushed them at the lighthouse. The ones that could have, and would have, killed Zayne and the others if the Red Lily didn’t appear.

The pool of black liquid began to boil, forming the distorted, deformed shape of a human.

Not again. Please, not again.

“Zayne…”

“I know how to kill these assholes now,” Zayne suddenly growled.

He quickly lashed out with his weapon, abruptly slicing the top of its head. Scalping it, if it had been a human. But it seemed to have done the trick; the ShadowDweller uttered a loud shriek before folding to the floor in a puddle. And that soon dissipated into a thick, greenish mist.

But as that ShadowDweller disappeared from existence, another began to seep its way under the door to take its place.

They thankfully couldn’t break their way through the door, but they could squeeze in under it. But how many were on the other side? And why were they targeting their room specifically?

Several loud, ear-splitting shrieks suddenly erupted just outside the door before abruptly falling silent. The light beneath the foot of the door quickly returned. The screams and the light indicated that there were indeed a group for ShadowDwellers there. And they had been dealt with swiftly.

Two shadows, likely that of feet, stopped just in front of the door. The figure on the other side seemed to turn toward the door to regard it for a moment. They stood there for a few drawn out seconds before, finally, the feet shifted and moved from view.

Footsteps were heard moving away before disappearing entirely.

Zayne unexpectedly lowered his gun-blade. “That was an Elite,” he said with mild confusion.

Zayne’s puzzled expression confused Eishirou in return. Before he could question him, however, his communicator buzzed once more. Another message. This one positive, however.

“Lockdown has been lifted.”

Though…it was a surprise by how quickly it had been lifted. Not even five minutes ago, there was a group of ShadowDwellers attempting to break in. How could have Katsuto known to lift the alert that quickly? And just who was that Elite?

A sharp ache in Eishirou’s shoulder abruptly reminded him that he was too tired and sore to be thinking too much.

He sighed as he finally peeled his fingers away from Zayne’s jacket. He could have done without that.

Two attacks of Star Rebellion followers. A lockdown due to ShadowDwellers in the area. A group ShadowDweller just on the other side of the door. A ShadowDweller actually making its way inside.

It had been a wild couple of days. To put it mildly.

“This lockdown bullshit needs to be handled better,” Zayne suddenly stated as he helped Eishirou back over to his bed before he pulled out his communicator to harshly mash at the buttons.

“What are you going to do?” Eishirou asked as he sat down on his bed. But his question only to prompt Zayne to start ranting.

“I’m going to speak with Sigmund about this. Expecting Passives to hide and hope for the best is bullshit. Room some Elites in here. That’s what we’re here for; we fight ShadowDwellers. It’s no good having Elites several minutes away. Had no one else thought of this? This divide between Elites and Passives is such bullshit. Holy shit, where do I begin?”

Despite Zayne’s angry rambling, Eishirou found a sense of comfort from him.

However, he also felt a sense of concern.

“Are you going to be all right?” Eishirou abruptly asked.

Zayne looked up from his communicator to give Eishirou a look that was a mix of confusion and amusement. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Ok, that was fair. “Well, it’s been stressful, you know? You’re sure to be on alert for a while. Right?”

Zayne soon caught onto what he was referring to and winced. “Yeah,” he muttered. He soon shook his head, however, and waved dismissively. “But that’s fine. This is different. I’ll be up for hours, so try to get some sleep. Wait, take a painkiller first and then get some sleep.”

Eishirou wasn’t going to argue with that. The ache in his shoulder, along with his head, was really starting to set in.

“I’m actually looking forward to taking tomorrow off,” he said as he reached for his pain medication that was set on his bedside table. “These last few days have been so…crazy.”

To put it lightly.

He also couldn’t help but feel a sense of detachment at the moment. Two attacks and a lockdown in a matter of hours. And yet, here he was, preparing to head off to bed and get some sleep. Like nothing had happened. Or like this kind of thing happened regularly.

Honestly, he should be a jumbled mess of nerves and stress.

But he wasn’t. He just felt tired.

The painkillers definitely had something to do with it. Which was fortunate for him. Zayne being there with him, however, was definitely the major factor in everything. He was safe with him. Even if a ShadowDweller made its way into their room, Zayne would deal with it. He would know of its presence before it even made its way into the room.

Honestly, what would Eishirou do without him?

“Why don’t we head to that café?” Zayne suddenly suggested. “The one with the all-you-can-eat breakfast?”

Hm? Oh, the one that Eishirou treated Zayne to on the morning after their first meeting?

“Sure,” Eishirou smiled. “Sounds good.”