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naitiaclo960writings · 4 years

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Day 3 - Demonic

(Warnings for: non-consensual blood drinking)

The situation could have been worse. He could have had to defuse a bomb in less than ten seconds as in one of these action films, or even prevent a tsunami from destroying the continent. Really, Dean had something to be happy about, it was a Sunday afternoon like any other in the Winchester’s life. Here, it was simply a matter of escaping his little brother who wanted to kill him.

"Dean! Stop running like that, I just want to talk." Sam’s dangerously cold voice rose in the corridors of the bunker. "For now."

Dean took a sharp turn behind the engine room and arrived in the boiler room. He closed the door as quietly as possible and locked a chair under the handle as a thin bulwark against his psycho baby brother.

The hardest part to process in this strange situation was probably that Dean definitely didn’t know why he was facing it in the first place. Just yesterday, he was drinking beers with Sam in front of a classic Indiana Jones and now, his brother was addicted again to demon blood and trying to kill him. He had no rational explanation for all this except that he may have ended up going nuts. Was it a nightmare? He did not remember falling asleep. A hallucination in this case? But why now, in the safety of their home?

Unless all this comes down to Chuck still trying to mess with them, pushing all their buttons with sordid visions of each other one after another. Dean, however, did not want to believe that all this was real. Sam was all he had lately. He was still on bad terms with Castiel, his stubbornness being the death of him someday, and the grief that weighed on his shoulders threatening to crush him at every moment.

"Dean!"

Poundings on the door. Clenching his jaw, Dean glanced around him hastily before he focused his attention on the air vents. So the situation was as desperate as it seemed. Sam had blocked the main entrance, Dean knew that for trying to escape a first time and almost died. In a desperate rush to escape his brother’s death trap, he had had to jump from the balcony of the war room, explaining why he was now limping towards the air vents.

He couldn’t stay here, he had no plan and certainly no desire to hurt Sam, no matter what his brother’s intentions were toward him. Dean had to take a step back, lock his younger one in the bunker and think of a concrete strategy to save him. Maybe he could ask the girls for help? Apologize to Castiel? A violent blow to the door took him out of his thoughts and, after an anguished look at the wooden partition, Dean began to stack a few pieces of furniture to access the overhead ventilation.

The next impact was followed by a sinister snap of wood and Dean turned his head towards the door. At the center of it was now a large crack that revealed Sam’s twisted face. Dean was convinced that this expression would add to his many nightmares, although he was still not sure if he was in the middle of one of them now. Sam’s smile is widening.

"Ring a bell?" He teased before moving away to rip the door open a bit more.

Dean’s heart skipped a beat as he thought back to that damned time when he had been the one destroying a door with a hammer while Sam tried to escape him, black eyes on his face. But, like his brother at that time, he could not bring himself to face Sam and risk engaging in a mortal struggle with him. With his heart pounding down his throat, Dean stacked another chair on a desk before starting to climb his wobbly construction.

As he tried not to fall, he still heard Sam slamming against that door by the sheer force of his fists and feet. Once at the top, Dean began to dismantle the grid and the idle fan, cursing against the stubbornness of the screws. A flash of relief surpassed that of adrenaline when he managed to clear the air passage, but his victory was short-lived. There was no more noise behind him.

With a knot in his stomach, Dean turned to realize that Sam had entered the room, his eyes fixed on him.

- "Dammit!" Dean shouted before trying to rush into the ventilation, head first.

He was half-engulfed in the opening, his dislocated hip giving him a hard time, when he felt a powerful hand gripping his ankle. The grip was so strong that Dean was convinced it would leave a mark. Suddenly and despite his kicks, he felt himself being violently pulled back. With no grip inside the vent, Dean slipped once, twice before Sam grabbed him by the belt and pulled him out of that metal tunnel.

Thrown on the ground at least three meters below, Dean let out a yelp of pain as he felt his wounded hip dislocating further. Nevertheless, he did not have time to feel sorry for himself, feeling his brother’s hands come back on him to keep him on the ground. In an annoying grunt, Dean tried to flip-flop and punched his brother in the jaw. Sam simply smiled, taking it and barely moving. Dean opened wide helpless eyes.

"We both know how things are going to end, but I appreciate the effort Dean." Sam smirked.

"No!" Dean cried out in a hoarse voice. "It’s not real Sammy, you have to resist, you have to-"

Suddenly, Sam grabbed Dean by the neck and stuck his nails into his skin, strong enough to draw blood. Dean stopped talking, swallowing a complaint of pain.

"You see, it is real! Spare me your great martyr speeches this time, Dean, I don’t want your ‘I’m your big brother and I love you’ remake." Sam’s voice was filled with venom. "The sooner you stop fighting what’s bound to happen, the better for everyone."

The first punch came out of nowhere, colliding with Dean’s cheekbone and sending pain waves into his face. At the third, Dean seemed to come out of his drowsiness and tried to reverse the situation around, but it was clear that Sam was more than determined to dominate the fight. The beatings kept coming, so Dean had stopped counting, while his brother kept spitting unbearable truth in his face.

"So pathetic!" Sam shouted, raising him by the neck to the nearest wall, Dean collapsing into his grip. "Fight, strike back!"

Dean shook his head through the pain, unable to beat Sam as he was going through it himself. He had often wondered how he would die and, although the ideal scheme would be to leave a gun in the hand, the possibility of dying from his younger brother whom he had raised and protected all his life was the most unbearable.

"N-no…" Dean struggled to articulate, his face already swollen with blood.

Sam replied with another scream of rage and Dean couldn’t recognize the being in front of him. Sam was usually so different, so… composed and honest. He was loyal to his own principles, always here to help and share his pragmatic spirit. Sam was also, deep down, that person broken by life who was startled at the slightest too loud sound, that force of nature that never stopped seeing the good in people, even when it was not obvious. He was his little brother, his reason to fight, and he would never accept that Sam Winchester had now become a violent and sadistic demon. Dean shook his head again.

Annoyed by Dean’s passive behavior, Sam tightened his grip on him and, after a brief silence, had a rictus.

"All right… I guess I’ll have to show you why fighting is useless by myself."

Dean barely reacted, presumably having accepted his fate. If Sam was gone, there was no reason for him to remain a hero on this earth. With a sharp movement, Sam’s eyes fixed on Dean’s, he released him with one hand to search the inside of his jacket. Quickly, a pocket knife came out and he smiled again.

"Take one to know one…" He whispered.

Suddenly, the younger released his second hand by putting Dean on the wall with his forearm. Sam dangerously close to his face, Dean did not lose a thing when his brother cut the inside of his hand. A glance at Sam confirmed Dean’s fears and his confused expression gave way to fear. No.

"Sam-

"You chose this, Dean. Everything that leads us here, it’s your fault." Sam replied.

Immediately, Sam pressed his bloody hand against Dean’s mouth, forcing him to keep his jaw open. Dean repelled to the taste of warm blood coming to soak his lips and pour in his mouth, uttering a groan of frustration and anguish. No matter how hard he tried not to swallow, Sam kept filling his mouth with this infamous liquid that turned his stomach.

Could he end up like Sam if he swallowed that blood? Another Azazel protégé? Or maybe he was just going to die, sent back to Hell while he let the world perish. What the hell could he do about that anyway?

Worn out, Dean swallowed and closed his eyes.

"DEAN!"

He reopened his eyelids in a start, feeling the sweat on his back. A panicked look around him informed him that he was now in the library, sitting at a table. Sam was on his right, with a hand on his shoulder and a worried face. Dean looked into his brother’s sweet, frantic gaze.

"Dude, I don’t know what you were dreaming of…" Sam smiled gently. " But… you drooled on the table."

Dean frowned before looking at the wood, a small glistening puddle of saliva on the surface. With a quick gesture, he wiped the corner of his mouth, his fingers brushing the place covered with blood a few moments earlier.

Sam wasn’t fooled, and Dean knew his brother realized he was having a nightmare. The joke was only there to defuse the situation, Dean visibly still tense and confused, but Sam was kind enough not to ask. Dean could still feel the metallic taste of blood in his throat…

"… Do you want a mop?" Sam asked while pressing a little harder on his older brother’s shoulder, a discreet but necessary support.

"Shuddup." He groaned, leaning back in his chair, sighing slightly.

Dean turned his attention to Sam again, chasing the ghosts out of his nightmare, and when his brother let out a small innocuous laugh, Dean was able to imitate him. They were there for each other. * * * @winchester-reload Day 3 and a bit of brotherly love hehe. I can’t wait to work on day 4 already so see you tomorrow!

You can find the whole series on Ao3

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#suptober20 #day 3 #suptober #suptober2020 #inkotber #inktober2020 #supernatural #non-consensual blood drinking #demon blood addict sam #scared dean winchester #violence #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester #hurt dean winchester #Sam Winchester

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squeeneyart · 4 years

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Breathe in the Salt - Chapter 11

AO3

Beta read by @thesnadger!

Martin wants to do the right thing.

It's time to make some phone calls.

Martin resigned himself to a day of catch up. The recent circumstances hadn’t been the most conducive to completing his work tasks, but he was employed for the time being. He would wait for the right time to reopen the can of worms upstairs and in the meantime double down on the figures in front of him. The others went to work as well, going through the records they recovered from the library and verifying some information from the storage house.

After some time, he heard Sasha ask, “Martin? This place used to be a bigger fishing town, right? Before the Lukases showed up.”

Martin thought for a moment. “I don’t think it was that great to begin with? I’m sure they didn’t help, but the problem started long before I was born. There may be some people old enough to remember when things were a bit better, but it’s always been a shaky business despite the proximity to the sea.” He paused, then asked, “Is there a reason you’re looking into this? Doesn’t sound very ghost-related.”

Sasha tapped her pen on the table. “It helps to get a timeline of major events. Even if there are coincidences, a broader historical picture often helps with places where the phenomena are… far reaching.”

“What, did the lighthouse eat all the fish?” Martin laughed, but it quickly died as he continued to think about it. “...Could it do that?”

“Doubtful,” Jon said, keeping his eyes glued to his laptop. “It’s possible the family saw an existing, natural decline in job prospects and swooped in to create an even bigger vacuum they could then fill. Nothing supernatural, just horrid people finding a good opportunity.”

Tim snorted. “While they just so happened to buy and operate a possessed lighthouse?”

Jon looked over his screen. “People can have multiple motivations. For example, Peter Lukas apparently enjoys boating and taking the possessions of others for the fun of it. The two aren’t necessarily related.” His eyes dropped back to his task.

“Fair enough. Maybe someone in the family won it in a bet, then? Swiped it from some evil lighthouse keeper.” Tim wiggled his fingers.

Martin laughed silently through his nose and went back to work, assuming his part of the conversation was completed. If he’d learned anything from the situation earlier that morning, it was to quit before weird personal details about his deadbeat fisherman dad came out and ruined the mood.

The three continued to debate possible motivations and causes, eventually trailing off and lapsing into a focused silence. The scratches of pen on paper mingled with the tapping of the keyboard. It created an arrangement that echoed over itself in a round, filling the space and tunneling upward along the staircase. Despite himself, Martin strained to hear anything that felt out of place, but he could feel no intent in the repetition. It was loud, but it was the normal, unnerving loud he’d become accustomed to over the last few months.

There wouldn’t be anything, as long as he kept the dial in the correct position. Not anything he could perceive, anyway. Were they listening, even if they couldn’t stockpile his words? Were they seething at his decision? Were they-

Martin gritted his teeth, willing himself to focus on the page in front of him. The group would call Naomi soon, and if she responded they would be one step closer to confirming his suspicions. For the time being, he would sit with his churning insides and wait.

Relief came at eleven with his lunch hour, which the others were considerate enough to wait for. He barely tasted the sandwich he’d thrown together that morning. There was a heightened atmosphere spread across him and the others, a buzz of excitement. After hours of necessary but tedious paperwork and discussion, it was time again for action.

Sasha dialed the number and waited, drumming her fingers on a pad of paper in front of her. “Available number,” she mouthed, giving a thumbs up. A few seconds passed, and she frowned and ended the call. “But, of course, it is no longer her number. I would change mine too, if people were tailing me.”

They all slumped in their chairs and braced themselves for a long, slow afternoon as Sasha looked at her pad of paper and dialed the first number on the list of many, many Naomi Hernes.

Some answered with varying levels of politeness, mostly responding with “never heard of the place” or “the name doesn’t ring any bells”. Otherwise, she left a short, scripted voicemail giving little information other than Evan’s name in hopes that Naomi would take the bait. She kept their institute out of it entirely.

When asked why, Sasha explained that this part of the investigation would have to be off record. Evidently, the Magnus Institute encouraged thorough research until it involved digging into its own benefactors. Unless they discovered a lead that didn’t implicate the Lukas family, they would be on their own.

The minutes ticked on, dragging more and more with the lack of success. After thirty minutes of fruitless calls, Sasha said, “It may take a while. We don’t know her schedule or if she’s even on this list. I was able to go off her last recorded location, but that’s about it.” Sasha leaned back in her chair, stretching her shoulders.

Jon pulled his laptop back in front of him. “We’ll need to give her time. If she’s aware of the Lukases keeping tabs on her, she’ll probably be wary of us. Keep going through the list. Tim and I will continue with the rest.”

Martin sat around for the rest of his lunch hour, losing hope with each passing call. He ought to have considered how long it could take to reach her, or that she might not answer at all. Why would she? What reason did she really have to trust a bunch of strangers?

He looked down at his phone, mindlessly flipping between apps before settling on his notes. Under Naomi’s old number was the one for Evan’s mobile, locked safely away in the storage house. Running his thumb up and down the side of his phone, he peeked up at the others through his bangs.

“I know we’re waiting to hear back from Naomi, but-” They looked at him, and he swallowed hard. “We know who it probably is, right? We have something he would know, and we could even-”

“Sorry, Martin, but that’s a big ‘no’ from me,” Tim said, crossing his arms. “If it’s him, he can wait a bit longer. If it’s not, then there could be something bad on the other side that we’re not ready to deal with, something that might even pretend to be him given the opportunity.”

There was an edge to his voice that made Martin shrink sheepishly in his seat. Tim’s face grew soft. “You want to help. I get it, but we should play it safe for now. Once we’re certain of the situation, we’ll do the heroic thing and release his trapped soul or get him out of the sound booth he’s locked himself in or whatever it is that needs to be done.”

Martin nodded glumly and looked back at his phone. After a moment, a notification popped up on the screen.

Tim: and if we get him out and hes as hot as they say he was, then who knows ;)

All the tension in Martin’s shoulders was released with a high-pitched snicker that his hand failed to stifle. The other two turned their gazes on him. Martin’s ears turned beet red at the attention he’d brought upon himself. Jon shot a suspicious glance at Tim, whose broad smile denied nothing.

By twenty minutes to four, there had been no sign of the person they were hoping for, ignoring one response by someone who thought they were being hilarious. Martin had only one task remaining before it was time to leave, and once his things were carefully packed away he walked over to the stairs and placed a hand on the rail. From behind him came the sound of chairs squeaking against hard tile.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw the three had all risen from their seats and were shooting surprised looks at each other.

Martin sighed. “I’m just going up for my normal work stuff. I won’t be touching anything I’m not supposed to.” Not that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind, but if he’d wanted to do anything there in secret, which he didn’t, there was no point in doing so when other people in the building could hear every amplified word.

“Well, I’ll be coming up anyway. Might as well get a better look at what buttons you’re pressing.” Tim jogged over, waving a hand at the other two dismissively and calling over his shoulder, “Don’t worry, I’ve got this. Keep an ear on the phone and text us if something comes up.” Jon and Sasha, who’d clearly been about to walk over and join them, sat down despite their visible apprehension. Tim started up the stairs, leaving Martin to trail behind.

Before long, Tim began to rely more and more on the handrail to keep his balance. About halfway up the stairs, he held up a hand for Martin to stop and dropped his head.

“Okay,” he said, flexing his grip on the rail. He took a moment to breath. “Okay, I’m good. Damn this place, though.”

When they reached the top, Tim faced the stairs and, at a regular speaking volume, said, “Hello? Tim Stoker to Boss Man.” He waited, then checked his phone. “Huh. Guess sound does have limits in this place. Good to know.” Tim smiled at Martin. “Let’s see those switches, then.”

Martin could see that Tim’s eye was just as drawn to the dial as Martin’s as they approached the panel. Martin slowed down his process, taking care to show Tim what he was doing with the different buttons and knobs, and Tim seemed to be taking notes on his phone.

“If it would help, I have a list of everything I do up here on my desk. My handwriting isn’t the best, but it’s legible.” Martin continued to complete the steps without thinking, allowing muscle memory to take over. “Not that I’ve looked at it super recently. I also have the version in my work contract? But that would have to wait ‘til tomorrow.”

Tim nodded, shoving his phone in his pocket. “Sounds like a plan. Who knows, maybe there’s a hidden ‘I cede my right to file a claim against any injury due to imprisoned spirits’ clause or something in the fine print.” Martin laughed weakly but said nothing. Leaning on the side of the panel, Tim looked at him. “You really think it’s the guy? Evan?”

Martin’s finger slipped, missing a button entirely. “...Yeah. I can’t think of anything else it could be? And I get it, there are some things I don’t know about-”

“Lots of things, actually. Look,” Tim stood up straight, crossing his arms. “I’m not usually the lecturing type, but you seem like a well-meaning guy, and this thing could very well be taking that from your voice and turning it back on you.” There was an unmistakable discomfort, though Tim was doing his best to look authoritative. “You’re not used to this stuff, but most of it ends up being not so nice.”

Resuming his task, Martin looked down and asked, “Have you ever… studied something like that?”

From the corner of Martin’s eye, he could see Tim shift a bit and lean against the panel again. “They’re something I’ve worked on, yeah.”

After a final flip of a switch, Martin looked back at Tim whose gaze was firmly centered on the window. Martin rolled his fingertips on the surface of the panel. “Any personal experiences or advice? For my benefit?”

Tim took some time to think, and without taking his eyes from the window responded, “If you can shut them up, make sure they stay that way.” Tim let out a breath through his nose. “And if someone’s got by one, chances are they won’t be kept alive. Once a copy is made, there’s no reason to keep the original.”

The bitter twinge in Tim’s voice warned against the questions forming on the tip of Martin’s tongue. If Tim was talking from experience, the specifics were none of Martin’s business.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Tim shook his head. “So, since I was the one who turned the dial, do me a favor and keep away from it?” When Martin nodded in agreement, Tim uncrossed his arms and pushed himself off the panel. “Good. It’s a deal then. Now, when we get back down, we can pretend to have had a riveting talk about how fish hate your town.”

Once they were back on the main floor, disappointment washed over Martin. “Was it too much to expect anything back so soon?” He looked through his bag, making sure he hadn’t forgotten anything.

“You get used to it.” Sasha paused from collecting some papers to watch him sulk in his corner. “Can’t tell you how many follow-up calls I’ve made that led to nothing.”

“Or all the numbers we’ve gotten that were for takeout places,” Jon grumbled.

“I dunno, I’ve been pretty lucky with numbers.” Tim winked at Sasha, who shoved some of the papers into his arms.

Martin smiled, though Tim’s comment reeked of forced levity. He zipped up his bag and walked to the door. “Let me know if anything comes up?”

“Of course.” Jon pushed himself out of his chair and walked at a brisk pace to meet him. “Could I have a word with you, before you head home?” He opened the door and gestured outside.

“Oh. Sure?” He avoided Tim’s very pointed eye contact and walked through the door. Jon followed behind with his arms wrapped around himself, his thin, long-sleeved shirt doing nothing for him in the cold. “Do you need to-”

“I’ll be back inside in a moment.” His stubbornness did nothing to protect him from the shivers. “About tonight.”

With all excitement and distraction gone, the weight that had been balancing precariously in Martin’s chest dropped to his stomach like a lead ball. “Is there a way to make this not horrible?”

Jon frowned. “I don’t know the full circumstances, but ultimately, I believe you’ll be doing the right thing.” He placed a tentative hand on Martin’s shoulder and gave it a stiff pat. He immediately retracted his hand and wrapped it back around himself, keeping his eyes on anything but Martin. “You know her better than I do. I’m sure you’ll be able to handle it.”

Martin clung to that confidence and the feeling of pressure from Jon’s hand. “Okay...” He took a large breath. “Okay. I should get going then. No point in putting it off.”

Jon nodded his head and hurried back inside, leaving Martin to walk home with more courage than he’d managed to gather for himself. As the sun drifted closer to its exit, Martin latched onto that little encouragement and thought of what to say.

“Hi, Mum. I found your skin? No, that sounds weird-”

“I know there are things I don’t understand, but-”

“Mum, I found this in the attic. I know it’s yours. Do you want to-”

“A guy from work said to give you this? Wait, no-”

And so he continued, muttering under his breath all the ways he could broach the subject without it being a complete disaster.

This could change things.

Would she scream? He’d never heard her truly scream. It wasn’t her way, but this could unlock something so much worse than he’d known. How dare he bring this to her if she’d hidden it for a good reason? That seemed a likely reaction.

Would she talk to him about her time in the water? Would she reminisce about a time before things went wrong, when he would watch her from the porch? Too hopeful to consider, but nice to think about.

Perhaps she would tell him to return it to the attic, and it would never be spoken of again. Things would be as they always were, just with a new secret to hang over them both. Another weight on their shoulders, another little barrier keeping them from being anything but what they had been for decades now.

Jon had said it would be the right thing to do. He would know about these things more than Martin, right? His word had to be worth something. No matter how she might react, this had to happen sooner or later.

The walk home sped past like nothing. The front door was before him, and then closed behind, and he felt more than ever like he was on a track, being moved from place to place without any consultation of his will. The night proceeded like clockwork, dinner prepared and completed with only his voice and the occasional terse response from his mother for filler noise. It wasn’t yet time.

The fog had rolled in thick as evening turned to night, and they looked out into it from the front porch, her breaths steady and bracing. Through his barely open eyes, Martin saw a hint of rolling waves before the salt brought out the tears and washed away his vision.

He walked his mother back inside and helped her prepare for bed. Once she was settled against the headboard, Martin coughed and began in a low, gentle tone. “Mum. Can I talk to you about something?”

She frowned, tired contempt rippling across her face. “Must you now? You’ve had all night to talk.”

Martin clenched and unclenched his teeth. “It’s important. Please, it’s...it’s about something I found in the attic.”

His mother froze, her hand gripping the quilt on her lap. Annoyance gave way to a wide, blank stare that brushed just over his shoulder. “I did not ask you to retrieve anything from there.”

Martin shrank back. “Yes, I know. I just went up to make sure there hadn’t been a-any issues with the roof after some of the rain recently since we keep some things in storage up there, and I wanted t-”

“Bring it to me. Now.” Her voice was quiet, almost too quiet for him to hear.

“Oh. Right. Of course.” Martin stood too quickly, grabbing the rickety bedside table for balance and causing a loud thump as one of its legs slammed into the ground. The dim lamp on top of it wobbled, creating unnerving shadows on the walls. He winced. “Sorry. I’ll be right back.”

He left the room and let himself breathe. Okay, he thought, this was a good thing. He walked up the stairs two at a time with his long legs, speeding down the hall while keeping his footsteps as quiet as possible. She wanted him to bring it to her. He would do as she ordered. Everything would be okay, he told himself, ignoring the strange sinking feeling in his gut.

It was where he’d left it, folded loosely in the corner to avoid any possible creasing. It pressed heavily into his hands, and he brushed off a little more dust as he walked back down the stairs. At his mother’s door, he paused and adjusted it one more time to a position he felt was the most dignified. Then, he entered the room.

She was looking out her window, through the misted glass and into the fog that surrounded their home. Her hands were limp over the quilt, one placed gently on top of the other. When the door clicked shut behind him, there was an almost imperceptible turn of her head, though he couldn’t see anything but her clenched jaw.

“Mum? I’ve brought it. Do you want me to place it on the bed? I-”

His mother turned to face him fully, and as her eyes locked onto him a torrent of pure fury slammed into his chest. He stumbled, the selkie skin almost escaping his large, clumsy hands.

“Give it to me.” Her rasping voice made Martin’s throat hurt, and her neck seemed to throb with effort. When he failed to move his legs, she forced out, “now, you stupid man!”

He tripped forward, and when he was within reach she snatched the skin from him. She clasped it to her chest just as Jon had that morning, with the same smoothing motion over its surface. Unsure of what to say, he became a statue. Every muffled intake of air burned down into his chest.

Taking in a shuddering breath, his mother whispered, “Leave.”

“What?” There was a painful crack in his voice.

“Leave me alone.”

The only thing he could see were his own near-faded footsteps as he climbed up the cliff side, the fog doing well to obscure the surrounding foliage.

He needed to be out of the damned fog. That’s why he’d fled the house, and the beach, and the crashing waves. That’s all it was down there, a house adrift in grey nothing, and he was too loud of a presence to truly give her solitude with his tramping feet on the floorboards upstairs.

It was past sundown when he reached the end of his climb, and the corner lights looked as much as they had the night before. As they had on any other night he’d spent wandering the dark, emptying streets. Pulling his coat more tightly around himself, Martin marched forward, drawn to the only other place to which he had a key.

He looked up before he could think too hard about it, and the sky bore down on him until all he could do was fall back into the gaping pit waiting just behind his heel. Had it felt like this before? Yes, it had, hadn’t it? A giant emptiness in the ground waiting to swallow him whole, and as he had seen it, so from it the vertigo had come. Only now it was polite enough to slow down and let him see the horror below.

He woke up on the ground with a groan, just outside of the florist shop. It was closed for the night, and there was no one inside or out to stare as he lifted himself out of a puddle, the arm of his coat soaked through with water. He was halfway through trying to regain some semblance of focus when he realized his glasses had fallen from his nose and were now lying on the ground beside him.

Relieved that his impaired vision was no worse than usual, he reached over to pick up his glasses. As he did so, he glimpsed at the water’s surface, and for just a moment the blurry vision of his face looked just enough like someone else. He gasped, snatching his glasses and scrambling to sit on the curb.

She’d never called Martin that. She’d had other ways of showing her frustration with him, but that… that had been for someone else. Of course. He hadn’t even thought to warn her of his re-entry, so he had gone into her room and with just that lamp by her bed the doorway must’ve been so dark-

The pounding in his head grew more fervent, and he curled into himself until he faced the ground, head between his knees. As the minutes crawled by, the pain began to subside, and eventually he was able to stand, even if there was a slight shake to his legs.

“Twenty years and still you don’t learn.”

He continued without reason, thankful for the empty road ahead, his arm going cold in its dripping sleeve.

#tma #the magnus archives #breathe in the salt #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #sasha james #timothy stoker #peter lukas #fanfic #au fanfic #selkie au #jonmartin

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arigatouiris · 5 years

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daughter of artemis // p.p — [06]

c h a p t e r s i x

Pairing: Peter Parker x Demigod! Reader [Female pronouns]

Warnings: swearing; angst [a lot of it]; greek mythology rewritten [completely my interpretation of it, oops]; slightly based off the games god of war and assassin’s creed odyssey; hurt/comfort; cliche; fluff [on later chapters sometimes]; mentions of sex and gore; slight alternate universe

Follows events after Endgame, but Tony, Natasha, Steve, Loki are alive in this universe.

Author’s Note: Finally it’s post Endgame now! Peter makes an entrance in this chapter, and there’s a change in POV as well. Hope ya’ll like this!

Word count: 4396

06 // φίλος friend

❅

Everything was strange. Peter never realized how much he valued being alive, until he saw Tony being quickly evacuated into a capsule to preserve his life. He had done it—snapped Thanos off the face of the universe; but almost at the cost of his own life. Peter thought he was dead, that was it, but when Pepper felt a faint pulse, they knew he was still there. Now, back on Earth, even if the doctors did say they were unsure, Peter knew one thing: Tony Stark had saved the world.

He felt strange, and not only did the world move without waiting for anyone who had been snapped five years ago, he had to pick up where he had left off. While the nurse cleaned his wounds, all he could ask about was Tony. If Tony is okay, if he’ll be fine, every question went unanswered, but it left Peter hoping. Tony was alive, and he damned well stay that way.

“Peter,” came Pepper’s voice as she walked into his room. She smiled softly at him, and he thought he could offer one back, but to no avail. They were currently in what used to be the Stark tower, but rebuilding this whole almost destroyed piece of land would take an incredibly long time.

“May’s back. I called the shelter. I’ve told her you’ll be coming to see her as soon as your wounds are cleaned.”

Peter stood up without thinking and rushed to the door, Pepper smiling a bit at the ground. Happy would be waiting for him at the front, ready to take him to where his aunt was. The last time he saw her was at the shelter, and he hoped and prayed things were alright now. He knew he should have felt happiness, but like he kept repeating in his mind, everything felt strange. He looked and felt like he was 18, but five years had passed.

He was quiet during the whole drive, Happy wasn’t even trying to engage in conversation.

“The shelter’s fine, kid. I… I took care of it while you were gone.”

“Thanks, Happy.” Peter’s voice was dry.

On reaching the shelter, his eyes welled up with tears. It looked the same, but there were new trees near the entrance he hadn’t seen before. His memory was fresh, and this ached his heart more than he thought it would. Walking inside, he came face to face with May’s back, as she was standing and reading something, two people near her.

“M-May?” Peter’s voice broke, and he was a small boy again.

May turned around and her hand went to her mouth in surprise. Running to her nephew, she embraced him as tightly as she could, letting out breaths of relief and happiness at the sight of this boy. Peter hugged her back, as if his life depended on it, and he was starting to feel that happiness he thought he wasn’t going to feel.

It’s alright, he told himself, breathing in his aunt’s presence. It’s going to be okay, he could finally tell himself. Pulling back, he smiled at her, as she did the same, rubbing his face with her hands.

“How is he?”

Somehow, Peter knew this question was about Tony. Nodding, Peter offered a small smile, indicating that things weren’t as bad as he thought would go. May’s relief calmed him. Suddenly, his eyes began to fill with tears, May pressed her lips together and waited. She knew what was coming, and she knew it had to come. Bursting into tears, Peter covered his eyes with his hand and cried—to cry was to release all sorts of ugly little pressures and tensions. Like waking out of a long, dark dream to a sun-filled day. And right then, he felt it leave his body; the pain, the sorrow. May was holding him, school would begin, he would go back to being Spiderman, Tony Stark was alive, and things were slowly going to get better.

That night, as he had dinner with May, she brought up the topic of school.

“Midtown’s offering a whole different system of schooling from a month now. They’ve pushed reopening the school to mid-November now because of the kids returning.”

“That makes sense.” Peter said, eating his rice as normally as he would have five years ago.

“You’re in Senior year.” May grinned, tilting her head a bit.

Peter smiled back before focusing on his food. He found it funny that he had an appetite, but it wasn’t as if it was anything extraordinary. He felt as hungry as he normally would have on any weekend.

“Peter,” he looked up to meet his aunt’s gaze. “Give it time.”

Smiling at her, he finished his meal and headed up to his room. He froze at the entrance; it felt as if he hadn’t left the room at all. Five years? He asked himself again, tears filling his eyes. He quickly rushed in and looked around his room; everything was in place, left in order. He had heard from Pepper that Happy kept this place the way it was, which proved that the man had hope that everyone would return.

However, he couldn’t sleep that night. Grabbing his suit, Peter quickly pressed the device to wear his suit, and webbed himself out of his room. Maybe this’ll take my mind off things, he thought swinging through buildings. It wasn’t that late out, and he could see people look at him with awe, and another emotion he couldn’t quite explain.

“Welcome back, Peter.” Karen’s voice startled him.

“Karen! Uh, is there something happening?”

“People are at their homes, trying to figure out what’s really going on. Everyone’s back, and surprisingly, the crime rate is really low tonight. You can relax.”

“Thanks, Karen.”

Swinging through buildings, Spiderman sucked in the air of Queens that night, letting the breeze heal his mind. As he passed a building, to his right he saw a girl on the terrace, with a bow and was trying to shoot a target. Blinking confusedly, Peter perched on the building opposite, and watched from above. What is she doing? He thought, It’s dark out, she can hurt herself!

Peter found it almost too easy to jump right behind her, but apparently it was a bad decision. The next thing he felt was the girl had roughly pushed him down and pinned him to the ground, his web shooter was kicked away, a few feet away from where he was being held. His eyes widened, which caused the eyes on his mask to widen, only to meet the girl’s surprised expression.

“Spiderman?” Her voice was slightly familiar, but there was no mistaking it. He had seen her before.

She stepped back and pulled away, and Spiderman took a good long glance at her. Her (h/c) hair reached her shoulders, and waved around in the breeze; she was pretty, more than pretty, but there was something about her that screamed as if she was not from around here. She wore a black jacket, a white top inside, and black jeans. Strangely, she was barefoot.

“Are you okay?” She asked again, cocking her eyebrow.

Standing up, Spiderman remembered her like it was yesterday. Because it was, he thought, unaware that a smile had crept on his lips.

“You’re her.” He said, his voice in awe.

She blinked at him before offering him a smile, but it was a different sort of smile. She was teasing him.

“I go by ‘her’, yes. Try not to make that assumption with everyone though.”

“N-No! I meant, you’re the girl from the shelter. The one who—”

“—also beat you to the ground the last time we met, did the same this time.” She chuckled, crossing her hands in front of her chest.

Peter couldn’t believe his eyes. She looked older, prettier, and not to mention, sassier. There she was, standing in front of him, after having pushed a superhero to the ground twice in a row. However, if she had grown up from the last time he had seen her, then that meant…

“You… You’ve—”

“I wasn’t turned to dust, if that’s what you’re saying.” She smirked.

Peter’s heart went out for her. It must have been lonely. “What about your family—”

Stepping one step closer to him, she looked up at him and said, “It’s very nice to see you again, Spiderman. This place has missed you.”

Peter’s heart warmed at her words. He remembered having saved her from getting too flustered in the middle of the road, and he remembered bringing her to his aunt’s shelter; she had changed so much in these five years, a battle he probably would never learn about. Hearing her say that this place missed Spiderman gave him the closure he needed.

“I still don’t understand some of it, but… I’m glad I’m back. I’m glad everyone’s back, um…?”

She chuckled once before saying, “(y/n).”

“You know who I am now at least.” Spiderman teased, remembering how she didn’t know him the last time they had met.

The girl turned to the target and then looked back at her bow, thus bringing Peter to ask her the question he had been meaning to ask her since he laid eyes on her the second time.

“Why are you shooting arrows in the dark?”

(y/n) shrugged before pulling the arrow against the bow and just as she released it, “I can see better in the dark than most people.”

The arrow hit the mark, right at the center, stunning Peter in hindsight. He saw how she turned to the moon after that, a small smile on her features.

“But, it’s not safe.” Spiderman said, sounding like a puppy.

“What you’re doing isn’t safe either.”

“But, I’m a superhero—”

“What if I’m a demigod?” She said, smirking widely.

Peter deadpanned at her, but the mask just stared at her without expression.

“Yeah, and I’m stronger than the Hulk. Come on, (y/n). Don’t joke around. You can really hurt yourself.”

For some reason, (y/n)’s laugh after what he said sounded as if she was hiding something. Choosing not to press more buttons, Spiderman folded his arms and waited for her to respond. There was no way he’d let her do something so stupid when he was around.

“Alright, Spiderman. I’ll go home now. Go and save people or something.” She said, smiling back at him.

Laughing, the superhero gave her a thumbs up, waved her goodbye, and left the area. Peter left the area in two minutes, but he wouldn’t deny how he felt much better than he did when coming there.

❅

He wanted to laugh out loud, but he didn’t want to startle her. There she was, doing the same thing again, the next night. It was now as if she knew he’d come and stop her. Jumping right behind her, Spiderman tensed and waited to see if she’d try and pin him to the ground again.

“Are you stalking me now, Spiderman?”

Standing up straight, “You train a lot for what exactly?”

She didn’t say anything, and shot another arrow. Moving to her right, Spiderman noticed her put down her bow and face him, offering a kind smile at him while doing so.

“Friends call me Spidey.” He said, waiting for her answer.

“So, I’m a friend now?” She asked, eyes widening a bit.

“W-Well, yeah, I mean—”

“Relax, I was just teasing.” (y/n) giggled before placing her bow on the ground. She walked over to the edge of the roof and sat down, letting her legs dangle at the side. Spiderman followed suite, and sat beside her.

“So, you still didn’t tell me.”

(y/n) placed her hands on her lap and looked at them. “It takes my mind off things.”

“Do these ‘things’ bother you a lot?”

The girl then looked up at the moon. It wasn’t in full today, a little less than full, but a smile came her way either way.

“You like the moon?” Spiderman asked, without knowing.

“Oh, yeah. I love the moon.” She said, almost as if the moon were a person.

“Don’t you have any friends you can talk to about those ‘things’?” Spiderman asked.

“Well, I’m sure you have things bothering you too, Spidey. You don’t talk about them to everyone, do you?” She hit the nail.

Turning away from her, he sighed. “I wish I could.”

“It won’t help.” She said, shaking her head a bit.

“You can talk to me.”

(y/n) smiled, her eyes turning small as she did. “Because I don’t know you? And sometimes it’s best to trust you because I don’t know you?”

Spiderman let out a laugh, “You remember very clearly my exact words. You must be a fan.”

“I’m a fan of anyone who’s trying to do the good thing.” (y/n) said.

These meetings continued on most nights. Spiderman would often find her busy with either shooting arrows, or landing kicks and punches to a very tattered looking punching bag. Some nights, he doesn’t bother her. He knew she knew what she was doing, so he let her be. Other nights, he’d join her, and they’d talk. He’d tell her about Liz without ever mentioning her name, and she told him facts about animals he never really knew about.

She was so down to earth it was startling. Some nights, she looked vulnerable, like she needed a friend to sit by her side in comfortable silence. Other nights, she looked almost like a deity—the perfect balance of danger and charm, she was at the same time fascinating and inaccessible, distant because of her demonstrated flawlessness, and possessing such strength of character that she was dismaying and at the same time utterly attractive in an enticing and forbidden way.

Before he knew it, it was already mid-November. Which meant school would reopen, final year of his schooling, and he might not meet (y/n) on the rooftop again. Crime was slowly beginning to pick up, and with school starting, Queens would go back to being regular.

Regular meant crime would follow.

One night before school reopened, he spotted (y/n) sitting by the edge, all by herself. Jumping down to the roof, Peter sat beside her as Spiderman and waited to see if she wanted to talk. She was playing with her fingers, being absolutely comfortable with herself.

“No training today?”

“You’re late so you missed it.” She answered, looking ahead of her.

He was impressed with her in so many ways. She had never asked him once who he was, she had never asked him anything about what Spiderman does, or about a robbery; it was as if she wasn’t curious about him at all, and had no questions for him. It was in a way great that he didn’t have to deal with lying to her, but it was all too simple.

“Aren’t you… curious about me?” Spiderman wasn’t intending on asking her this, but the words slipped out.

She looked at him and blinked, “Would you rather you lie to me?”

He couldn’t believe it. “So, you’re not asking because it’ll be hard for me?”

She shrugged, “People have their secrets, Spidey. We all do.”

Of course she did, Peter thought. She was training almost every single day for something or someone he had no idea about. And when he thought about it, she had never answered a single question about family or why she was training. She had her secrets, and this was the sole reason why she could respect that he had his.

“So, when you first came here,” Spiderman began, “You were from some other place.”

“Greece.” She said, nodding.

“That’s so cool!”

“Is it?” She asked, grinning amusingly.

“It is, it’s an insane place. I’ve always wanted to go there.”

(y/n)’s smile almost died. I never want to go back, she thought.

“I came here after my mother died. I came looking for my father. But, at some point, finding him became secondary. I train because I want to be strong.”

“I’m sorry about your mother.” Peter’s voice was low. He of all people knew what death felt like. Having lost uncle Ben himself.

“I too had someone who passed away. Right before I got these… powers, it killed me when I lost them. Ever since then, I knew I had to use these powers for good. And so, Spiderman was born.”

“It is loss that pushes us to do better things.” She said, smiling at him.

Spiderman nodded. “My mother was everything to me. Ours was a… traditional joint family. No one else accepted me because my mother was a single mom and things didn’t exactly run that way where I come from. But she always made me feel so loved.” (y/n)’s voice broke at the end, Peter noticed.

A second later, he hugged her from the side, startling her. Her eyes were wide, and she remembered how her uncle had hugged her last. This was the first time in five years that she was being hugged. It felt nice. Once he pulled away, she offered him a kind smile.

“You’re really a good guy, aren’t you?”

Spiderman scoffs, “I try to be.”

Looking away from her friend, (y/n) thought about school.

“School starts from tomorrow.”

“You don’t sound too excited.”

She laughed as she replied, “Nah. My classmates literally have labelled me the ‘mysterious exotic girl’. It freaks me out a little, honestly.”

She felt Spiderman’s hand on her shoulder as he said, “I hope you find good friends this year.”

Smiling at him made her recall the eyes of the brown eyed boy she had seen in her visions. She hadn’t had any visions of him these past few years, but whenever she thought of him, her heart felt warm. There was something utterly heartbreaking with the way he looks at her, each time she thinks of it, a part of her dies for not knowing.

❅

Walking into school felt familiar and strange to him, all at the same time. Not a familiar face in sight, as his heart raced in his chest, his stomach doing backflips with all the anticipation. However, just as he was about to head into what was supposed to be the senior class, a familiar face made him almost want to cry.

Ned’s surprised expression didn’t go past him, as Peter rushed to his best friend and embraced him. Thank goodness, he thought, holding onto his friend. Ned pulled away and smiled at Peter, who smiled back, a familiarity not being born again but only restarting.

It’s quite early for class to start, but there was already someone there. Peter stopped dead in his tracks, not a word of what Ned was saying reflected in his ear. His eyes widened at who was sitting there, and he forgot his own name.

But, he didn’t forget hers.

“(y/n).”

Ned paused and looked at his best friend and followed his gaze to the girl sitting near the last bench, reading a book. She looked comfortable, and really really pretty in Ned’s eyes, but she also looked like she didn’t want to be disturbed. But, seeing that she had earphones on, Ned nodded to himself once and turned to his friend.

“She can’t hear you, she’s got earphones on.”

Peter walked inside and sat down, surprised that she didn’t even look up from her book. He wanted to walk over to her and say hello, but that was the problem. He knew her as Spiderman and Peter had no idea who she was. There was nothing he could do.

A short while later, people poured in to class and for some strange reason, no one interacted with her. As Peter was watching her, a hand fell around his shoulder and a very annoying voice whispered in his ear. He was thankful that it wasn’t Flash.

“That’s (y/n). She’s so mysterious and cold, dude. Don’t even try with her.” He said, teasingly.

Peter was annoyed. So this is what she meant, he thought in his head and snapped, “That’s because no one’s tried to get to know her.”

The boy blinked, “Oh, but people have. She’s just too intimidating.”

She’s nothing close to intimidating, Peter thought before turning to his books. For him, it felt as if he had read off a book just yesterday. It’s been five years, Peter, he thought before sighing. Once the first class was done, they were supposed to move in to the other. Luckily for him, the kids who were brought back from the snap shared all classes so that they could pick up what they had left off.

“I sort of feel bad for her too.” Ned said, looking at the ground.

Peter didn’t say anything, and he didn’t know why. He could have told Ned that he was friends with her as Spiderman.

“I have a great idea,” Ned said, grinning. “We should invite her over to build a new Lego Death Star—”

“What if she doesn’t like Star Wars?” Peter asked, rolling his eyes.

“Then we stop trying, I mean come on—”

“Ned.” Peter scolded, fighting back a smile.

“Just ask her!”

Walking to his locker, Ned and Peter both find her standing in front of her’s, reading the last few pages off a book. Peeking in closely, he read the title of the book ‘Leaves of Grass’. Ned ushered Peter to go to her and the secret superhero glared at him. Walking over to the girl, Peter cleared his throat before expecting to be blown away.

Her eyes widened when she met his gaze. Her jaw opened just a bit, almost as if she had seen him before, somewhere, a hint of familiarity sparked in her eyes; she knew the face she was seeing, it was quite obvious.

Peter freaked out. Oh my god, he thought, feeling his heart beat faster in his chest. What if she recognized me? Did she recognize me? How could she? There’s no way, right?

“Uh, I’m uh… Parker. Peter. Ugh, Peter Parker.” Peter said, feeling stupid.

The girl instantly broke out a grin and replied, “Hi, Peter Parker.”

Peter stops talking and just looks at her, a soft smile on his lips as she cocks her eyebrow at him. Pressing her lips together, she folded her arms in front of her chest and waited. She was blinking at him, slowly, and his heart slowed down as well. He could spend hours looking at her the way she was looking at him.

“Hi.” He said, slapping himself internally.

Giggling, she replied, “Hi.”

He could feel Ned hit himself on his forehead. “I’m (y/n).” She said after.

“I know.” Peter said, smiling like an idiot.

He noticed her features stiffen and immediately regretted his answer. Putting his hands in front of him apologetically, “No, no! I meant, I mean—”

“What’s up, Peter Parker?” She asked, tilting her head.

“So, uh… Ned and I,” Peter gestured to Ned, who was behind him and waved at her—(y/n) sent a wave back, “We were wondering if you’d like to come build a Lego Death Star with us—”

“I’m sorry, but I have no idea what that is.” She said, slightly wide eyed.

Peter stilled. “No way. Star Wars?”

(y/n) shook her head, chuckling. “Where I come from, we don’t really watch movies.”

“Greece?” He asked, blinking.

“Yep.” She said, popping the ‘p’.

“No movies in Greece?” Ned suddenly asked, standing beside Peter.

“Hi, Ned. I’m (y/n).”

Ned smiled a lovely smile at the girl.

“And no, my family is very… traditional.”

Standing in silence for what felt like a minute, (y/n) picked up her book, closed her locker and grinned at them as she said, “Sorry boys, but I’ll have to pass this time. Maybe next time.” She looked at Peter, eyeing him funnily, and walked off.

“She’s so dreamy.” Ned said, watching her leave.

❅

The very next day, there was a new English Literature teacher who was assigned to their homeroom. (y/n) couldn’t care less about who would teach her, no one compared to Athena or even her uncle, but he hadn’t shown himself around in quite a while. However, when this new teacher walked in, brown hair, strong jawline, thick framed glasses—anger surged in her veins.

What the hell is he doing here? She thought, glaring at her uncle who stood in front of the class. Suddenly, girls and a few boys began to whisper to themselves, hearing words like ‘hot’ and ‘cute’ being thrown around. She was certain her uncle heard everything the kids were saying, and she was not impressed. Sending him the ugliest glare she could conjure, (y/n) sat there. Apollo looked at her and immediately looked away, not wanting to reveal much at the moment.

Peter, on the other hand, noticed this exchange. He was sure it was because of his spider senses, but for some strange reason, (y/n) looked quite angry with the new professor, Alec Stavros. Turning back to the teacher, he probably wouldn’t want to ask her.

Just as class ended, Apollo raced out, (y/n) following quickly behind him. She caught up to him easily, however, despite his worry.

“What are you doing here? And what is this? You’re wearing a disguise!” She hissed, frowning at her uncle.

Apollo grabbed her arm and turned her around. (y/n)’s eyes fell on the janitor at the far end of the corridor. Turning back to her uncle, she glared at him questioningly. Apollo kept still. Blinking, (y/n) turned around and spotted the janitor, doing his work, his back turned to them, but a symbol so familiar from her past was staring right back at her.

Her eyes widened as they landed on the symbol of a Hyena.

“He doesn’t know what you look like. But, if he finds you, he won’t care if it’s public or inside a sheltered area. He will try to kill you.”

There was no fear in her heart. Only anticipation. As if wild dreams were beating inside her, (y/n) wanted to laugh to channel her rage. It had begun.

Smirking, she looked up at her uncle and said, “I’ve been waiting for five years. Let them try.”

❅

series taglist:

Those I could not tag, I’ve added your urls here!

@maddie-laufeyson, @mscoloneldanvers, @https://dancing-flame.tumblr.com, @daughter-of-stark, @spider-mendes, @nerdyandproudofitsstuff, @someonekeepstakingmyusernames, @alina-margaret, @yourwonderbelle, @viarogers, @https://huangsushii.tumblr.com, @eridanuswave @oliviaisnotlistening @mizpotatobiscuits @editsbyjenny @abbieroseb @justtrynagetthroughlife @secretlittlewonders @missmulti @shallowshawnshallowshawn.tumblr.com @eunoiametonia @adistiany @justletmesleeptillidie @ppunderoos @myheartonthemove @heir2chaos @honeybutterparker @truthdaze @mvmakki @-thatgirloverthere- @growingthornz @freddies-fried-chicken @jinxedleo https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/wrongyuckie @gogoca

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hope-for-olicity · 6 years

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Fabulous Olicity Fanfic Friday - December 7th, 2018

Happy Friday! So this is my attempt to both thank awesome fanfic writers for their amazing work and offer my recommendations to anyone who is interested. Here are the fantastic fanfic stories I read this week! They are posted in the order I read them.

Earth 2 Felicity Q-Smoak by @cruzrogue - A look into Earth 2 Felicity's life and how she may meet Oliver http://cruzrogue.tumblr.com/post/180523358099/earth-2-felicity-q-smoak-having-fun-with-this-i

Homecoming by @alexiablackbriar13 - The journey home from Slabside is exhausting for Oliver, who is already bloody, battered and bruised from the riot. Felicity takes care of him and stops him from fracturing. https://archiveofourown.org/works/16764172

Love and Little Cupcakes multi-chapter WIP by @christinabeggs - Felicity loved sweets so much that she paid no attention to her lovelife. Until Thea Queen came into her store wanting fabulous cupcakes for her sixteenth birthday. SO ADORABLE! http://archiveofourown.org/works/12400539/chapters/28216053

Just Beneath the Surface multi-chapter WIP by @smoaking-greenarrow arrow - When an S.O.S signal is sent to the FBI from a woman named Felicity Smoak, Director Oliver Queen knows that she is in grave danger. He can’t help but notice the haunting similarities between what’s happening to her and what happened nine years ago; in thirteen unsolved cold cases that drove ex-agent John Diggle out of the bureau. With a race against the clock, Oliver enlists the help of his old mentor to reopen the investigation, and hopefully save Felicity’s life. https://archiveofourown.org/works/16239002/chapters/37963052

The Gate by @foreverfelicityqueen - What might have gone through Oliver's head as he was being released and seeing his wife for the first time in a while. https://archiveofourown.org/works/16768138

To Have and To Hold by anythingbutplatonic - It's been six months and twelve days since she's seen him. It’s been five thousand, four hundred and sixty-eight hours since she’s really, really seen him. https://archiveofourown.org/works/16761286

Carry You Like You Carry Me multi-chapter Complete by inlovewithimpossibility - three-shot on post-7x07, dealing with the immediate after-effects of Oliver's release https://archiveofourown.org/works/16760950/chapters/39324724

The Numbness of Disuse by @juvinadelgreko - A short one-shot about Oliver and Felicity’s return from Slabside. https://archiveofourown.org/works/16758562

(Tear Me To Pieces, Skin and Bones) Hello, Welcome Home. by @inenochian - Oliver and Felicity spend their one year anniversary in their bed. Recovering. Healing. Loving. (pure and unadulterated fluff because that's what we deserve) https://archiveofourown.org/works/16773454

With the Speed of an Arrow multi-chapter WIP by @academyofshipping - Oliver Queen’s elite and silver-spoon life has taken some blows in the past few years, but he is still the carefree billionaire everyone knows of and loves. When his role in the family business is in jeopardy and he is introduced to a motley of new people, his status quo is threatened. With a changed perspective, Oliver realizes his feeling for his best friend and anchor-in-life, Felicity Smoak, may be more than just platonic. OR A modern adaption of Jane Austen’s Emma with a gender swap* and no island. *Knowing that gender is not binary https://archiveofourown.org/works/16559846/chapters/38799857

Doppelgangers P2 by @lostolicityscenes - Oliver is taken by Faux Felicity who believes she can spice up his sex life https://lostolicityscenes.tumblr.com/post/180592892411/doppelgangers-part-2-part-1-nsfw-more

Home To You multi-chapter WIP by @the-shy-and-anxious-fangirl - Oliver Queen has never done what his family expected of him. He took a gap year after high school instead of going to college right away. He quit his fraternity sophomore year to join the student newspaper, switching his major from business to journalism. He became a photojournalist for a wire service instead of taking a place at Queen Consolidated. He went missing after six months instead of coming home for his sister’s twenty-first birthday. He survived five years of captivity in a war zone when everyone thought he was dead. He came home. But home didn’t have a place for him in it anymore. His parents were both dead, casualties of their own mistakes and a city they had turned against them. His sister was all grown up, the CEO of Queen Consolidated with a fiancé and a dog and a life of her own. Oliver didn’t belong in his old life, but there was nowhere else for him to go. He was a man without a home, without any way of finding one, until he stopped by the IT department of his sister’s company to get files off an old, battered memory card, and found a woman with curly blonde hair and bright, intelligent eyes chewing on a bright red pen and swearing at a computer screen. https://archiveofourown.org/works/12613188/chapters/28734552

Time for a Story multi-chapter WIP by @smkkbert - This fic shows Olicity and their life as a (married) couple with family. Although Olicity (and their kids) are the protagonists, other characters of Arrow and Flash make appearances. YOU NEED THIS STORY IN YOUR LIFE. https://archiveofourown.org/works/3912157/chapters/8757172

The Queen's Mage multi-chapter WIP by @the-shy-and-anxious-fangirl - Words have power, and mages, those with the aptitude to draw on that power, are few in number. Thus, their services are highly sought after by anyone who has exhausted all mundane means of solving whatever problem is plaguing them. Felicity is reminded of this fact the hard way when she is hired by Moira Queen, the Lady Starling, to find and return to her son Oliver, who fled his family home five years ago following the death of his father. With a threat hanging over her should she return without Robert Queen's heir, Felicity begins her search. When she finds Oliver, and ends up joining his vigilante crusade while she waits for him to decide whether to return home, the last thing she expects to do is fall in love with him. https://archiveofourown.org/works/14617068/chapters/33781269

Charmed I'm Sure! multi-chapter WIP by @christinabeggs - What happens when three witchy sisters take on the evil in the world? https://archiveofourown.org/works/15852249/chapters/36922482

Hard To Find Love multi-chapter WIP by Mellowyellowdiamonds - Through a tragic twist of fate Felicity finds herself left with an orphaned young William Clayton. Keeping her promise to her friend, Felicity raises William diligently, loving him as if he were her own child, only to have Moira Queen storm into their lives several years later demanding custody of her grandson. Locked in a war with Moira Queen, things get complicated when Felicity finds herself developing unwanted feelings for William's biological father, Oliver Queen. At the same time she must try to manage her meddling 13 year old son, who has it in his head that if Felicity would just cooperate and fall for his father, everything would be right in the world. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15941786/chapters/37173917

Different People by @geneshaven - Olicity after their talk in 7x08 https://geneshaven.tumblr.com/post/180822452124/different-people

Arrow Ficlet: Oh the Past, It Wanted Me Dead by @theshipsfirstmate - post-7x07. It’s hard to believe she’s seen him look worse. https://archiveofourown.org/works/8435797/chapters/39324094#workskin

Rebels Connected multi-chapter Complete by @mindramblingsfics - Felicity Smoak is an escaped mutant on the run. Oliver Queen, leader of an underground safe house for mutants to call home comes to her rescue. Everything changes once he brings her into the organization and his life. https://archiveofourown.org/works/16014089/chapters/37369784

From Somewhere Within multi-chapter WIP by @smoaking-greenarrow - Their connection has always felt natural to them, safe and secure. But others tend to fear what they don’t understand, and as far as their enemies are concerned, the world isn’t ready to accept two people who can know each other the way that Oliver and Felicity do. https://archiveofourown.org/works/16009244/chapters/37356257

Pieces of Always multi-chapter WIP by @so-caffeinated and @dust2dust34 - Life continues after Forever is Composed of Nows. Ongoing non-linear collection of family moments for the Queens. http://archiveofourown.org/works/8220479/chapters/18840356

My Thoughts on You multi-chapter WIP by @rachelrenalove -Felicity Smoak is sure of 3 things: 1. She's a badass and she is damn good at what she does. 2. She hates the man in the green hood. 3. Oliver Queen is a pain in her ass and she cannot wait until the day she can quit her job at Queen Consolidated. Or Felicity Smoak goes undercover at Queen Consolidated and meets Oliver Queen. She quickly realizes that she doesn't like him and wishes she was never chosen for this mission. Outside of QC, she is dealing with her hatred towards the man in the green hood that has found out exactly which buttons of hers to press in order to piss her off. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15089954/chapters/34989344

Life's All About Changes multi-chapter Complete by Crazyreader2468 - After agreeing to plead guilty to being the Green Arrow in order to get FBI assistance in capturing Diaz, Oliver finds himself in a supermax, a maximum security federal prison, serving a life sentence. As he struggles to become accustomed to life in prison, his family, friends, and teammates struggle to live without him, as well as continually attempting to find a way to get him pardoned. Will they succeed in obtaining a pardon and will Oliver survive until they do? Mostly AU from right before the ending of episode 6 x 22 and after most of 6 x 23. https://archiveofourown.org/works/14936172

Re-Airrow 2x10 by @lostolicityscenes - Just one scene for the episode: A riff on the line that Oliver says to Felicity about Barry. https://lostolicityscenes.tumblr.com/post/180799804486/re-airrow-2x10

If I Tremble multi-chapter WIP by @smoaking-greenarrow - A collection of prompts and ficlets, with all the smut! Olicity sexy times are the best times. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15409122/chapters/35762643

seemingly impossible (but not untrue) multi-chapter WIP by @alexiablackbriar13 - Young genius historian Dr Felicity Smoak unknowingly and accidentally calls up a bewitched alchemical manuscript within the Oxford Bodleian Libraries - a book that has been lost for centuries. Descended from an old and distinguished line of witches, Felicity wants nothing to do with magic, despite her unruly and powerful abilities. But her discovery of Ashmole 782 sets the world of creatures stirring; with a mystery afoot and new, dangerous magical abilities manifesting for her to navigate, she is approached by the enigmatic vampire biochemist Professor Oliver Queen, who seems to have a deep interest in both the manuscript… and her. Based on A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness. https://archiveofourown.org/works/16224353/chapters/37923743

// @emmaamelia95 // @mel-loves-all // @oliverfel4 // @green-arrows-of-karamel // @coal000 // @miriam1779 // @memcjo// @captainolicitysbedroom // @tdgal1 // @spaztronautwriter // @lalawo1// @quiveringbunny // @wrongshipper // @thebookjumper // @vaelisamaza // @myhauntedblacksoul // @lovelycssefan // @laurabelle2930 //

#FabulousOlicityFanficFriday #olicity fanfiction #fic recs

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hookaroo · 6 years

Text

A Captain’s Heart (22 of 34?)

Chapter 1 Chapter 21

Rated T for language and graphic descriptions of injuries.

Also on FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12937105/1/A-Captain-s-Heart

Tagging @therooksshiningknight & @killian-whump by request :)

There was nothing all that unusual about waking in restraints, at least not as a concept. Varying levels of pain and confusion, that was par for the course, too. But the pillow… that was a new one.

As usual, Killian remained as still as possible while he waited for full consciousness to return. Better to be fully awake with at least a vague sense of what was going on before alerting his captors. It was difficult not to react, though, when even shallow breathing hurt.

Ropes wound around his torso, just under his arms. Binding him to a solid cylinder of sorts. Tree stump, perhaps? His hand and brace were bound together - in front of him, thank goodness - but he didn’t yet dare try and lift them to see if they were attached anywhere else. His toes pointed skyward, the pressure on his ankles a good indication of their tied state, as well.

The pillows - one to sit on and one to rest his head against - were an oddity no matter what scenario his injured brain tried to recall or imagine. He was definitely outside: the scent on the air, the breeze, the light beyond closed eyelids all attested to that. And unless the head injury had completely scrambled his sanity, pillows were uncommon outdoors.

Killian shifted fractionally and immediately regretted it. In addition to the wildly throbbing bump on his head, which now felt as if it had been clumsily bandaged, a dozen other points of pain vied for his attention. And some of them were eerily familiar, yet jarring in their coexistence. The blow from Excalibur that had sent him to the Underworld, alongside the raw desperation of a newly empty wrist. Ribs buckled by several tons of steel, echoing an ankle snapped by malice and burdened too soon. Burning stripes crisscrossing his back. A recent annoyance, returned. Muted, all; mere shadows of their original agonies. But increasing in intensity with each passing moment.

Oh gods. He was dead, wasn’t he? Hades had returned to his throne, intent on renewing his tortures, starting with one who had assisted in his defeat. Killian would open his eyes to see the flame-haired monstrosity leering at him. He swallowed a whimper and snatched his resolve from stores he had forgotten he possessed.

The sky was blue. Not orange, not bloodstain red. There were wispy clouds and sea birds - not the pluck-your-eyes-out-as-you-crossed-the-River-Styx kind, but the follow-your-ship-in-hopes-of-a-handout kind. Killian’s eyes watered in relief. And then he spotted Marvel at the helm. And then he remembered everything and was too dumbfounded to do much beyond stare, for a full minute, as concussion muddled his thoughts.

She had knocked him out. Tied him to the mast. And now stood sailing the ship - her own damn self! - without one glance his way. Killian regained the power of action and immediately set to work straining against the ropes, trying to free his hand and burning wrist. He could feel sticky blood stiffening his shirt, front and back. Gathering within his brace. Trickling down his temple.

The flurry of exertion soon had his head spasming in bursts of pain, and he dropped back against the pillow in defeat. With eyes squeezed tight against the throbbing ache, he snarled,

“Dammit, Marvel; what the bloody hell d’you think you’re playing at?”

There was a long pause, and Killian began to wonder if she had even heard. But when he peeled his eyes open again, it was to find her staring down at him in guilt. She rubbed the back of her neck and mumbled,

“Are you very angry, Captain?”

“Furious,” he replied evenly. Her lower lip trembled, but she put on a determined scowl.

“I’m sorry to have infuriated you. But I don’t regret having done it. I only want you to live.”

About to respond, Killian felt the skin on his neck split; just the very top layer, but so uncannily reminiscent of Camelot that it felt worse than it actually was. He sucked a breath and tried to remain calm as the initial sting faded. Marvel must have seen the pain on his face, for she abandoned the wheel and rushed to his side.

“Dearest? What’s wrong? Are you all right?”

Grimacing, Killian lifted his bound wrists in order to press the back of his hand against the newly reopened wound. “No, I’m bloody well not all right! My own damn ship has mutinied against me, and meanwhile I’m cursed to be torn to bits and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

Marvel pulled his arms away and examined the cut along the side of his neck. It was little more than a red line at present, much like the first result of Excalibur’s touch. But she had observed his other cursed injuries and knew it would only grow worse with the passage of time. Grimly, she fished a large square bandage from her pocket; one of the modern ones she had looted from the first aid kit in the captain’s quarters.

Eyes still closed, Killian rested his arms on his legs. “You’re a terrible captor, you know.”

“Am I?” She pulled open the package and aimed the sticky edges toward the intact portion of skin.

“You’re much too close, for one thing.” Killian sat still until the bandage was in place, then slowly reached up, demonstrating his ability to catch her off guard without actually making the attempt. Marvel held her ground; she knew he had no intention of hurting her. As she gently smoothed the bandage down, she murmured,

“I don’t recall being there for this injury.”

Killian opened his eyes and met her gaze sadly. “I don’t believe you were.”

“Was it serious?”

“Aye.”

She bit her lip, wincing at the thought. Then she turned her attention to his abdomen. Only two buttons needed undoing before the blood soaked bandage came into view. It would likely need wrapping soon. Killian flinched when she lay a soft hand over the wound.

“And… this one…” She sounded tentative. “This one… They came to me, didn’t they? After. Each on their own, never knowing of the others. But all bringing their memories. Their thanks. Their… t… tears. And… and I couldn’t...”

She broke off, shaking with a sudden onslaught of sobs. Gingerly, Killian lifted tied wrists and used his brace to rub her arm soothingly, disregarding the tenderness of the stump beneath. He shed a tear of his own, thinking of his loved ones each making secret pilgrimages to his beloved ship as they mourned their loss, spilling profound grief to the vessel that was not quite as empty as they had believed it to be.

Gradually, Marvel composed herself and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. With a sniffle, she turned an earnest gaze on her patient captain.

“Don’t you see, my love? I can’t lose you, not again. Not when there’s something I can do to save you.”

Killian sighed heavily. “I understand, lass. And in many instances, I would react in the same way.”

“So you agree with me, then? It isn’t mutiny? We’ll retrieve the potion together?”

She looked so hopeful, and Killian hated to let her down, but…

“No.”

“No? But you just said-”

“Marvel, this is wrong. Elevating one life over the lives of a multitude, even if that one life is someone you care for and the others are strangers… it’s morally unethical.”

She looked hurt for a moment, then her face hardened. “Well, I suppose I’m just not built to think that way.” She began to blot at the line of blood that had suddenly appeared on his cheek, adding, “You are everything to me. I can be nothing but loyal to you, and no one else. You see, while a captain’s heart may be given away, a ship’s heart belongs always to her captain.”

Killian closed his eyes, feeling as if he’d betrayed her, even though he knew that was absurd. “Marvel, please-”

“I must retrieve more bandages from below,” she announced. “If I agree to release your arms, will you promise not to turn the ship around?”

Killian winced. “Afraid I couldn’t do that, love.”

She stood up, all prickles and coldness. “Well, then. That settles that.” Her inexperience at masking emotion showed then as tenderness crept back into her demeanor. “Just wait here. Don't be foolish and make an escape attempt; you’ll only end up hurting yourself more. I’ll be back presently.”

#ouat fanfiction #killian jones #the jolly roger #a captain's heart #cursed #blood #pain #bandages #angst about old wounds #tied up

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jj-ktae · 7 years

Text

Operation proposal - Prologue -

Title: Operation Proposal

Genre: Drama, Angst, Fluff

Pairing : Jinyoung x You

Summary: You and Jinyoung have been friends since high-school. He loves you, but his clumsy way of dealing with love made him miss his chance with you. Today is your wedding but you’re marrying another man, and as Jinyoung is full of regrets, a fairy appears, giving him a chance to change the past and win your heart.

Disclaimer: Inspired from the 2007 drama Proposal Daisakusen.

- Teaser -

Prologue

It’s complicated. Everything is a struggle. A sleepless night is a struggle, waking up in the morning is a struggle, regretting is a struggle.

Today is the worst struggle in Jinyoung’s life.

The coffee machine is broken, so he sighs. Yet another struggle. He throws his mug in the sink and grabs his keys before heading out. He is late but he doesn’t care. He hates feeling this way, but he doesn’t give a damn whether he makes it on time or not.

The taxi is incredibly slow, just like Jinyoung’s brain. It should be scattered, torn, broken, but it’s still processing the information with a killing pace. It’s like he can’t accept it.

The driver pulls him out of whatever his brain was doing when he speaks up, voice raspy and bored “We here.” Jinyoung’s feet stop tapping the ground before he takes a deep breath.

Everything’s going to be just fine.

“Thanks.” He pays the man and gets off the black car, his suit wrinkled and hair a tad dishevelled. His appearance is one of a free guy, a guy who does as he pleases, a guy who is raw and uncaring when it comes to his self.

He sucks at self-help.

“Jinyoung! It’s about to start!” He stares at his shoes, shiny on the red carpet and enters the huge green house, pure white and paradise-like.

It suits you well.

“Why are you late? Damn it, it’s a special day!” Jinyoung’s friends love drama. Of all things, he just wants them to shut up and stop making a fuss over nothing. He looks up to one of his friend, Mark, who is wearing the biggest grin ever.

“Overslept.” He didn’t. He didn’t sleep a wink. He thought about the story over and over, the result always the same.

“We would like to call the newlyweds, if they are ready.” Mark grabs him by the arm and drags him deeper into the crowd. They both stop right in front of the biggest table. It’s made of deep mahogany and lights, with white arum lily and deep green leaves.

It’s pretty, but Jinyoung sees nothing.

He looks up to the first person stepping into the greenhouse. Violins pop up in his ears, just like light illuminates his brownish eyes and tints his bewildered expression.

You walk into the greenhouse with uneasy steps. Everyone is looking at you. Some of them are emotional, others are serious. You close your eyes and walk deeper, your dress floating around you in a swift yet delicate manner.

You try to focus on everything but your surroundings but there is only one thing that strikes you. You don’t need to see it to notice Jinyoung. You never needed to look at each other to know the other was around. He is wearing the same suit he always wears whenever there’s an event.

“You’re so pretty.” You hear and it makes you blush.

You look at Jinyoung when you gather enough courage to face him on such an important day, but he is gone. Your husband is right next to you, in his bright white suit. He smiles widely at your heavenly features.

Right. Jinyoung is a guest. One of the best men, among all your male friends.

You have a husband, now.

“I’m nervous.” His voice is a tad shaky as his head approach yours, making you tear your eyes from the void to stare at his anxious face.

“Me too.” You breathe and smile at him. You’re not sad, it’s not like you didn’t pick your husband yourself. You love your husband, he is a caring and gentle man, with a great personality.

“Shall we greet the guests?” He asks while readjusting his tie and waves at his friends.

You don’t feel like wandering the place yet. Nervousness is eating you from the inside, and the idea of meeting Jinyoung now is frightening.

But then again, Jinyoung wouldn’t care. He never did, and you feel stupid as you think about him.

It has always been one-sided. Right from the start.

You sigh and take a step down, separating from your husband to meet your guests. At the same time, someone else is running away from the hassle to find peace, but an annoying hand stops him before he can take a step out of the crowded place.

“Get your ass inside.”

Jinyoung turns around, a brow lifted “Can you let me live?”

But Mark has other plans. “I want you to have fun. Don’t be down now when you did nothing back then.”

Jinyoung smacks his lips in irritation. Of all people, Mark is the only one who knew at the time, and has always been the nagging type, the friend who pushes him until he wants to yell in frustration. He is a great friend, and Jinyoung doesn’t want to admit he is actually damn right on this one.

“So I can’t even hate myself?” He exhales and Mark laughs wish his stupid white teeth.

“I told you regrets would eat you alive. What did you answer, then? Oh yeah ‘It’s not like I need her to live’ you stupid dimwit.” Mark rolls his eyes, falsely dramatic.

“Ok first of all, stupid and dimwit mean the same thing. And thank you for the support. I appreciate.” Jinyoung almost forgets about his own depression at some point, and Mark laughs again, grabbing him by the shoulder to pull him back inside.

But Jinyoung isn’t sad, Jinyoung is totally out of it. He still hasn’t realised the fact that you are getting married, and until he set foot in here, he couldn’t believe it. He looks around the place again and sees you, hugging people and laughing with others. You look happy, like the world is complete and he wants to hit his head against the nearest table.

You don’t look for him in the crowd. You don’t need to see him. You can’t look at him because you decided not to think about this. Hurting yourself has always been your forte, but today isn’t about him, today is about your future and your husband. You can’t possibly ruin everything for the sake of a man who doesn’t even care about you.

He doesn’t deserve your love anyways.

When everyone is greeted, it’s time to go back to the main table. Your friends have a surprise for you, and even though it’s scaring you, you’re glad you can run away from Jinyoung to focus on something else. You take a seat and the master of ceremonies approaches you.

“If the guests would like to have a seat, we have a surprise for tonight’s princess.”

You cringe at the choice of word, before looking in front of you. This is so cliché-

You stop processing whatever you brain is thinking when Jinyoung’s eyes meet yours in the middle of the room. He is among your group of friends and he looks bored. He stares at you like you are the most stupid person on earth, and at some point, it’s hard to stare back so you focus on your other friends.

Mark looks so happy, and your best friend Gina is crying a river. The table is full of emotions, and then there is Jinyoung, who looks like he would rather jump out the window rather than be here.

You husband sits right before the video projector turns on.

“The bride’s friends prepared a little something. If you’d like.” He takes a tiny remote control and presses a button.

Our Best Moments

Jinyoung turns to Mark, bewildered. “Did you do this?” He can’t believe this.

Mark nods, pointing at him, Gina, and another one of their friends, Jaebum -who is too busy stuffing his mouth to notice the general atmosphere-. “Of course we did. You’re so useless we had to do it without you.”

“Hopefully my name won’t appear. You guys are so soppy I want to throw up.” Jinyoung makes a face and Mark almost smacks him on the head.

Gina leans to whisper. “Only people with a heart can understand so shut it.” She high fives Mark and they both team up to mock Jinyoung.

What a day to be alive.

When the first picture appears, Jinyoung freezes right on the spot. His heart starts to beat faster and his eyes can’t get away from the scene.

It’s a picture of you all. Everyone is happy in their old high-school uniforms. The class sends nostalgic vibes to Jinyoung, but what strikes him the most is the way you look at the camera. You look so unhappy.

He can’t deal with this. He thought he could, he thought he could deal with you being happy and loving another man but he can’t. It’s right at this moment that everything he built to come here crushes like a sand castle. It’s hard, it hurts, but he can’t do anything about it.

He can’t stop you from being happy.

He didn’t know he could feel moved anymore. He had been so miserable all these years he thought he wouldn’t feel anything, but the way you look at the picture, with that tiny smile he loves so much is enough make him release a shaky breath.

Jinyoung made the biggest mistake in his life.

He closes his eyes and lets his head drop on his hand, pensive.

He can’t hear anything at some point, but he blames it on his wandering mind. He is totally out of it and wants to disappear, so when he reopens his eyes, he is surprised to see everyone frozen.

He blinks a couple of times but no one is moving. The music has stopped, the master of ceremony is frozen with the mic right over his lips, your smile doesn’t move.

“What the hell is happening-” he jumps when he sees everyone frozen next to him. Mark’s hands stop while clapping, Gina’s face is close to crying again, and Jaebum’s mouth is wide opened.

“Hey.” He jumps when a deep voice blows on his ear and finds a man in a bright white suit. He has the goofiest smile ever, with a bit of mischief and blinks cutely at him.

“What do you want?” Jinyoung gets up so fast he almost falls, surprised to see at least someone who actually moves.

“Let me introduce myself. I’m Jackson Wang. You can call me Jackson.” The Jackson boy smiles at him and extends a hand, which Jinyoung totally ignore. “I’m here to help you.” He adds.

Jinyoung’s brain disconnect for a second and Jackson laughs.

“I’m a fairy. I’m here to help you.” He explains like it’s the most natural thing in the world and pushes on Jinyoung’s shoulder to make him sit. “You might want to sit down, kid.”

Jinyoung purses his lips, his eyes narrowing at the fairy who takes another chair to sit next to him.

“Before you say anything, let me explain. I’m a fairy. I’m here to help you get this girl,” he points to you, still frozen “I’m here to make you both happy!” Jackson squeals so loud Jinyoung jumps again.

“Are you drunk? Do we know each other? And why is everyone frozen?” Jinyoung groans because this is getting too crazy for his liking. Now what, a fairy?

He knew weddings were dangerous places.

“I’m perfectly fine, thank you very much. Everyone is frozen because I made them froze.” He wriggles his brows at Jinyoung who is by now totally lost as to what is happening.

“They sent you, right?” He laughs at some point, because he has no other way to explain the situation, and even less when he sure didn’t drink enough to get this drunk.

Jackson points at his frozen friends with furrowed brows, “Them? Come on kid, do you really think everyone here agreed to this type of joke? No seriously, come on.” He makes gestures with his hands like the fact that he is a fairy is obvious.

But something inside Jinyoung’s brain ticks and he opens his mouth, eyes turned into two slits “How do you even know about her and I?”

When Jackson whines, he jumps back, shocked. “Because I’m a damn fairy! Are you even listening to me?”

“Ok so, let’s say you’re actually a fairy. You’re here because you want to help me get the person who is getting married right now?” It doesn’t make any sense, but Jinyoung gives it a try, because maybe, just maybe, this guy will go away.

But he doesn’t, and inches even closer. “exactly,” he whispers. “I’m here for that.”

“And how are you genius going to do so?” Jinyoung tries to confront this bullshit. Maybe Jackson is a psycho who is about to slander his body. Who knows.

“The pictures! You’ll go into the pictures.”

How interesting.

“Look, I had a lot of fun talking to you but maybe you’re out of your damn mind.” Jinyoung starts scratching his face in an annoying manner and takes another sip of his glass. Maybe he should get drunk.

“Come on, you were crying from the inside a couple of minutes earlier. Don’t act like it’s not true. I’ll give you one last chance. Well technically, you have five more chances.” Jackson starts explaining the deal and Jinyoung finds himself listening to him before he can even protest. It’s way too crazy to be ignored and he will have to beat Mark’s ass for this very lame joke later.

“So once I jump into the picture what do I do?” A smirk appears on Jinyoung face. He must be going crazy, too.

“You do what you were not able to do back then. I can only send you, you’ll have to pay for some good dating pro-tips.” The fairy winks and laugh loudly, before stopping. “I’m joking. I send you right on the day the picture was taken, and you do the rest.”

Jinyoung bites his lips, slowly nodding. “and… how do I get to…go there?”

He can’t believe he is actually having a conversation about going into pictures to get the girl he loves.

“If it’s your most precious wish, you only have to ask for it.” Jackson explains, grabbing the first champagne glass he finds.

“How?” Jinyoung is too tired to deal with crazy people right now. It’s the worst day of his life, he feels lonely, sad, frustrated, angry and now there is a weird guy talking about fairies and steps back in time.

“The magic words.” The fairy answers and Jinyoung wants to slam his head against the table in despair.

“Get lost, freak.” His hand moves on its own, signalling the guy he isn’t going to play along.

Not today.

He tried playing along, he tried being nice, but now it’s too much for him to handle.

“Come on. Just say ‘One more chance!’”

“One more chance.” Jinyoung repeats with a bored voice and Jacksons slaps his arm.

“You have to believe it! Try again! Come on get up, spread your arms, do something but be passionate, for god’s sake.”

“One more chance!” He yells once Jackson pushes him up and the last thing he sees is Jackson talking to him.

“May your wish be fulfilled.”

An: Credit to the owners for the pictures!

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kfawkes · 7 years

Text

Promise - [Eggsy Unwin x Reader]

[AHHH THIS WAS SO FUCKING MUCH FUN HOLY SHIT lol. This is sorta like a TGC sequel…. kinda??? Sorta, lol with a fix it where everyone is happy lol. But its angsty af too because yes. :) Hope you like it anon!!!! Also hope you like the end I worked hard on that for you lol. As usual the codename Tristan is used for you :)

Pairing: Eggsy x Reader with Roxy, Merlin AND Harry lol. I had fun with this one.

Words: 3.1K I am so sorry hahahaha

Warnings: Cursing, angst, sorta spoilers but not really?

— Read on Ao3!]

“You can’t actually be suggesting that we don’t tell her. This is her fi—” Roxy started, quite loudly might you add.

“Of course not, but she doesn’t need t—“

Roxy was standing across from Merlin, and he seemed to have been just as affected by whatever the hell was happening. You clearly had walked in on a moment, a tense one at that. And by the shift in air and cascade of silence as you stepped forward, you had a feeling just who the ‘her’ in question was.

But… what the fuck were they talking about?

Roxy took an uneasy step from Merlin, pulling her top lip between her teeth as she slid her slender fingers to her hips; unable to look at you. Merlin behaved just as suspiciously, shuffling his weight and pulling a hand across his chin while he absently tapped his notepad to his thigh.

It was hard for you to talk at first, and not knowing what was happening didn’t help one bit. One thing you did know was that you really didn’t like when people talked about you… especially when the conversation was heated and/or involved not telling you something.

Before you spoke you sent out a soft smile; one not nearly as convincing as you wanted it to be as you crossed your arms. “Tell me what?”

Neither of them had even tried denying you were their subject; but after a moment they both slid their eyes to yours almost guiltily as if on queue. Roxy gritted her teeth before stepping towards you, twiddling her fingers anxiously at her navel.

“What?” When you spoke this time, you didn’t bother masking your confusion and near engulfing anger. Those nerves sent their familiar prickle of anxiety through you so strongly it tingled clear to your fingertips, and you needed to know what was going on. “What is it?”

“Eggsy… He-there’s been… something happened during the mission.” Roxy’s brows were dark, and so were her pale amber eyes.

“Wh… what do y—,” You paused to swallow down the lump that began forming in your throat as your mouth went dry. Moving your eyes from Roxy to Merlin’s offered no sense of comfort, and his were much darker than hers had been… Now as you finish he wasn’t even able to even look at you anymore. “What happened?”

Neither of them offered their response, and your eyes immediately began filling with warm tears; they pressed ferociously at your lids begging for release. “He’s… Eggsy’s okay, right? He— there w-was an accident, he—he’s hurt… bu-but he’s okay, he’s fine… right?”

But you knew by the look they sent you that Eggsy was anything but ‘fine’.

“He’s not…” You breathed lightly trying to ground yourself as you leaned back on Merlin’s desk.

Roxy stepped forward again, attempting to place a hand to your shoulder, but you pulled back forcefully. You weren’t mad at her, of course you weren’t… But you knew what that touch meant and you didn’t want to believe it— you wouldn’t.

Only, by the way she looked at you as she shook her head softly, you knew you couldn’t deny it.

Those eyes of hers were so heavy and full of despair; and in that second it felt like a bomb had been dropped atop your head. You couldn’t hear anything… you couldn’t see anything, there was just a dull persistent ringing clanging in your otherwise still mind.

“No. There– it’s not possible.” You began shaking your head profusely standing in protest; the denial setting in, sinking its teeth into your worried flesh. And now you were losing your balance as the sickly feeling stuck to you like tree sap.

You were so light headed, so fucking confused that you nearly forgot where you were. The tears weren’t gentle, but coursing and pouring with a vengeance and all you could see were flashes of his face…

Flashes of black and Eggsy’s smile…

Another flash of darkness began creeping, poisoning your mind and vision as you nearly felt his hands sliding up your neck and into your hair…

Then all you could hear was dull ringing in the silence; the voices of your friends and coworkers were muffled and echoing as if in the distance…

“No… please no.”

———

It’s quite… it’s so damn quiet.

It’s been this way since you lost Eggsy and all you felt was emptiness. Deep, dark, emptiness and part of you wondered if this would ever get better.

Since Eggsy died, you had trouble doing the simplest things. Everything you did was a chore. Breathing was a chore, eating was a chore… Even the things you loved were hard for you to do, and you knew it wasn’t right. That he wouldn’t want you to rot away alongside him wherever the hell that was…

But you couldn’t help it. There just didn’t seem to be a point anymore as terrible as that sounds. And if there was? You were having a hard time seeing it lately.

You’d never loved anything the way you loved Eggsy, and not having a body to bury made everything that much worse. It was like you couldn’t find closure… because as crazy as it sounds, without a body there was still a chance he could be alive, wasn’t there?

Eggsy would never give up on you, you couldn’t give up on him. Even though you knew, deep down you knew… it was pointless.

All you could hear right now is Eggsy promising you he’d always make it back to you. That you’d never be alone…

Funny enough… you were alone, and that’s exactly how you felt.

And that just made things harder to accept. It was hard to accept that the only person you ever loved was gone forever. That someone could be here one day, and just… gone the next. That everything you admired and cared for had just been erased suddenly; like wiping a fucking computer. Reduced to a name on a tombstone and a bunch of fucking pictures and memories too painful to revisit.

It was hard to move on when you had someone like Eggsy showing you just how special you were… Showing you everyday that you were meant to be his. That he was it: your end game.

It’d been 6 months, and it still felt fresh every morning you woke in that bed; cold and alone. A painful reminder that you lost everything locked around your ring finger, unspoken vows and broken promises… But you had to try to be a person, didn’t you? If not for yourself, at least for Eggsy.

So today, like all days you rolled over lazily— exhausted even though you’d slept at least 10 hours. The funny thing about being depressed was that you could sleep as much as you wanted, but you still woke up just as tired. Or… maybe that wasn’t funny now that you thought about it.

You eyed the empty space beside you with heavy eyelids, curling your lips into a pained frown. The wound reopening and poring its fresh blood across you and for a second you could almost see Eggsy there again… Laying shirtless on his stomach; with his broad shoulders hiding the lower half of his face, his arms stuffed under his pillow effortlessly… That golden crown of hair every which way from the night before, and his restful slumber shining in the sunlight.

You reached your hand out, wanting to feel his warmth there, but you only felt emptiness instead. The cold, crisp reminder that he was really gone and like a wave it overtook you once more. Pulling you into its wild current and you couldn’t breathe.

And as the feelings take you over, you shoved your face into his pillow almost desperately. It still smelled like him, but if you kept this shit up it wouldn’t for much longer and that scared you.

JB and Prince noticed your fit, but of course they did… Within seconds they both began licking your face and the fingers you draped over it affectionately. They missed Eggsy almost as much as you did, that much was clear but they didn’t understand where he went the way you did… how could they?

You wiped your eyes with the long sleeves of his button up, throwing your heavy arms around them both, pulling them tightly into a hug.

“I’m sorry you guys…” You whispered into JB’s head as you pressed kisses to both of them.

You were half ready to just call in today… let Roxy and Harry deal with whatever needed to be done while you ate a tub of lavender ice cream while crying and watching some romantic movie with a happy ending. But when you looked at your phone and read the message across the screen, you felt a strange trickle rushing through you.

MESSAGES

Merlin

‘It’s urgent. Bring JB.’

———

When you made it to Kingsman things felt… weird. Off. Like something wasn’t right. But it wasn’t every day your coworkers asked you to bring in your dead fiancés dog to work, so clearly something was up.

The message alone was enough to get you out of the house in less than 10 minutes, but considering you basically gave up on personal care or looking– well, not dead, that was close to your average nowadays.

When you pushed through the doors of the shop Merlin, Roxy and Harry were all there clearly awaiting your arrival. As you stepped closer they all stood anxiously and you felt it like a truck had slammed into your chest at full speed.

“What the hell is this… is this an intervention or something? Cause if it is, I’m goi—” You started taking a defensive step towards the door as you pull JB closer to your chest protectively.

“No, Tristan… It’s nothing like that.” Roxy started shaking her head with brows lowered. The look she wore was one you didn’t know so well and it made you more nervous than you were before.

“Then… what is it like? This is— kinda… weird don’t you think?” You were rather uneasy and talking faster than you wanted to be, but seriously just… what the fuck was this?

“We… we have something to show you.” Merlin cleared his throat before talking, his hand held his other wrist tightly. “Try not to… be alarmed if you can manage.”

Harry just sent you a soft smile lowering his head slightly in a nod; and you tried to read the expression behind his eye, but his too was nearly impossible to understand.

“Okay… what?” You breathed out with chest heaving tenaciously. JB was beginning to wrestle about in your arms, so you dropped him to your feet lightly.

“Do you remember when Eggsy and I found Harry… How he didn’t really know who he was?” Merlin asked raising his brows at you passively releasing his grip on his wrist as he signal towards Harry.

“Yeah, of course. What about it?” You asked tossing them all a quick glance, feeling as though you were late and seriously unprepared for a performance. “What are you trying to say…”

You didn’t realize it at first with how overwhelmed you were feeling, but Harry had left the room.

Merlin was talking still, but now you weren’t listening… Instead you were watching as Harry walked slowly down the stairs tucked behind the register. You listened as a second set of feet made their way behind him… Your eyes followed as JB ran from your side and up the stairs, barking excitedly.

All you could see were two legs in a pair of bright white adidas. After a moment two arms kneeled down to pet him and your breath was so fast, that you felt like your heart was seconds away from bursting through your chest; Aliens style.

But you just watched anxiously as the hands lifted JB up, and continued their decent down the steps leisurely…

Time itself was moving so slowly that it felt like everything had almost stopped and you didn’t know what to expect… what you’d see…

But when the man reached the base of the stairs… it was Eggsy, just like you knew it would be.

He was there, just standing and looking from Roxy to Harry, then ending on Merlin… Smiling wide and pure as JB licked his face excitedly.

Tears filled your eyes immediately, and you felt your whole body begin to shake as you stare at him. Watching in awe as he looked at JB still holding that perfectly cheeky smile you loved so fucking much. The smile you were sure you’d never see again…

“An who’s this?” Eggsy asked not looking from the pug he held tightly, enjoying the shower of affection.

Eggsy still hadn’t noticed you standing off in the corner by the door and it was apparent that he didn’t recognize JB at all… At that realization you took in a deep pained gasp; one that was far too loud, throwing your hand over your mouth as the salted tears slipped from your eyes aggressively.

He darted his gaze to yours immediately upon your exhale, clearly being caught by surprise; and at first he looked so young and innocent… like someone else entirely. And he didn’t know who the fuck you were…

“This guy yours?” Eggsy asked, hardly seeming to notice you…

You pulled your hand from your mouth, still not moving or speaking as you send your tongue to wet your lips. When he looked at you again, you shook your head ever so slightly back and fourth in silent reply.

In the next seconds you watched as Eggsy’s eyes changed. That azure stare shifted as he narrowed his eyes on yours; scanning you like the pages of a book he could hardly make out. A moment later he stepped closer, each footstep more cautious than the last; with eyes still pushed to thin slits. The expression he wore was one you’d seen a hundred times before. It was the same look he made when he was trying to remember an actors name, or the title of some song stuck in his head…

Like something was on the tip of his tongue… but he just couldn’t figure out what it was.

He cocked his head slightly, standing between the two tables holding their respective items sporting that same bewildered look. His lips parted as he place JB to the ground taking another leery step in your direction. “I… I know you, don’I?”

You still couldn’t speak, but you nodded once with lips clenched together like they were glued in place.

“Wh… where do I…” Eggsy started with uncertainty, then turned to look at Harry sharply. He pulled his hand to his head gripping his eyes shut behind a tight fist, his face pulled about uncomfortably.

You stepped closer to him instinctively, wanting nothing more than to protect him. To hug him, and tell him how much you loved him and missed him. You didn’t even give a shit how he got there, or that he was legally dead… You could figure all that shit out later.

What mattered now was that he was here… that he was alive.

After a moment Eggsy lifted his face to yours, his eyes wide matching your own. His lips parted again as he swallowed deeply before saying your name.

In a flash you closed the space between each other, pressing your bodies together tightly like you couldn’t be close enough. The pull was so strong it was magnetic and you never wanted to let him go. The way he kissed you was deep, fervent, and you honestly didn’t care if you were just stuck in some sick dream.

When you separated you noticed that the others had already retreated someplace else; offering the privacy you so desperately needed. You were full of questions, and desperate for answers but nothing came out but more tears.

Eggsy put both of his hands around your face, holding you softly between them as he wipe the tears away with his thumbs. “How long’s it been, luv? Why’s it feel like years since I done that?”

You pulled your hands to rest around his wrists as you rub your thumbs on the back of his hands. When you spoke, you could hardly raise above a whisper and your tone was lined with reluctance. “6 months and 22 days…”

Eggsy shook his head unbelieving, released a pained exhale at your chest; his mouth opening and taking many shapes before he pulled his lip tightly between his teeth. He looked like he was going to break for a moment, but his eyes lightened and he smiled at you so sweetly that all of your worries began seeping away.

“Did you miss me?” He asked softly, his words sweet like honey as he kissed you on the tip of your nose.

“That’s what you have to say? Seriously?” You laughed pushing him playfully in the stomach, feeling the familiar way he flinched at your soft pokes; and for a moment you were back to normal. Back to before you had to live a life without him in it, if you could really call what you did living…

He pulled you closer, locking his arms around your waist securely. “Bit better than ‘I lived’, innit?”

“I don’t know what the fuck I expected.” You confessed, deciding that this was most definitely the response you’d anticipated. Leave it to Eggsy to crack a joke after coming back from the dead, so to say…

But it really was nice to laugh again and it was amazing to have him back– even his shitty one liners.

Eggsy kissed you again, softer than the last time; like he was soaking you up as he pulled one hand to the back of your neck softly. Breathing you in like a long forgotten scent, and in a way: you were. “I love you so fuckin’ much, you know that don’ya?”

“Love you too, Eggy.” You scanned each new pale scar that decorated his chin as you pulled your fingers across the one over his eyebrow; tracing it lightly. “I can’t lose you again…”

“You ain’t gonna. Was a one time thing— my dyin’, I swear it.” He reassured you with confidence so strong, there was no denying he believed it wholeheartedly.

So you kissed him, finally feeling whole again. “Do you promise?”

“Promise, luv. Told ya, didn'I? Was always gonna come back to ya… jus lost my way for a bit.”

You weren’t sure he could really make a promise like that again, but for now you were prepared to believe anything that slipped from his perfect lips. And if you’d learned anything from this mess, it was that if anyone could keep their word… it was Eggsy.

“Always.”

#Eggsy Imagine #eggsy x reader #eggsy unwin x reader #kingsman #kingsman fic #eggsy #prompt #my fic #kingsman the golden circle #roxy morton #merlin #harry hart #fan fic

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ekultanraine · 4 years

Text

Bloody Knuckles (Rating R) August Walker/OFC

Warnings: Sex and violence (is there any other way with Walker?)

“Whisper all the naughty things you want to do to me, Mr.Walker,” she murmured into his ear, he closed his eyes as he felt her warm breath tickle his skin and reopened them as she pulled away, her hand still on his inner thigh.

“Baby girl, you can’t even imagine the things I want to do to you,” he remarked, sliding a hand behind her neck and she smiled at him, leaning closer. He pressed his lips firmly against hers and she moaned into his mouth, causing his cock to stir.

“Let me go freshen up and we’ll go,” she promised and he released his hold on her, watching as her hips swayed as she made her way through the crowd. His eyes quickly moved to a man that had been leaning against the bar, the man’s eyes were on her and he followed through the crowd. August’s jaw flexed but he let it alone, she knew how to handle herself.

It was twenty minutes later and she hadn’t returned yet, he pulled himself off the couch. He quickly moved through the crowd, his eyes on the bathroom and leaned against the door, listening quietly. He heard her voice, it was distressed and he abruptly pushed through the door, finding her against the wall. The bald man held her in place with a hand around his neck and another man stood with a gun pointed at her, they both looked over their shoulders at the entry.

“Ah, August Walker, we were wondering when you’d finally show up,” the bald man hissed and August’s eyes went to her, she held his gaze. She made it known between them that she was ready when he was and he looked back at the bald man. “I thought you would’ve been quicker to protect your lady friend here,” he grunted in his thick Russian accent and August studied him. The man was short but his muscles made up for everything else, the gun the other held looked like it shook slightly. It was clear this was one of the first missions for his friend and it would only play in August’s favor.

“I think you underestimate my lady friend,” he snarled and the Russian began to laugh but her knee was swift, slamming into his crotch. He grabbed at it, groaning in pain and let her go. She was quick with her other knee, giving a good jab to his chin and he fell backwards towards August, who had a left hook ready. The fluid and well versed dance between August and her turned him on even more. She knew where to step, where to hit and where to avoid so she wouldn’t get in his way. He had a moment to watch her in action and god she was fucking gorgeous.

“Who sent you!” August demanded, a foot on the Russian’s throat and he gurgled, August let up slightly. He looked back over his shoulder as he heard a crack and saw the other man go through the bathroom stall door, falling to the floor. She tossed her black hair over her shoulder and looked back at August, a triumphant smile on her face.

<<>>

Once they gained the information, it was obvious they would be going back to their hotel suite and she couldn’t keep her hands off him in the taxi to the hotel, sitting in his lap. She unbuttoned his shirt, sliding her hands beneath the fabric and rubbing it over his hairy chest, kissing down his neck. He saw the cab driver peering at the rear view mirror but quickly looked away when he caught sight of August’s glare.

The cab pulled up to the hotel, August threw money at the man and took her hand as she led him through the lobby, his shirt still unbuttoned. She slammed her finger against the elevator button and it slid open, everything seemed to listen to her command, including his cock that was twitching at every touch she gave him. She pulled him into the elevator and as the doors slid shut, she slammed him into the back wall with her lips against his. He dug his fingers into her voluptuous ass and she groaned into the kiss, the heat between them was intense. The doors slid open to their penthouse suite and she pulled him out, shoving him down onto the red couch.

She straddled him, digging her fingers into his brown curls and kissed him passionately, grinding her hips into his crotch. His hand reached beneath her to unbuckle his belt but she shook her head.

“No, not here,” she commanded and pulled him off the couch again, he growled. “Patience, Mr. Walker,” she warned, a smirk over her shoulder and opened the glass doors to the balcony, turning to him. She reached back, unzipping her gorgeous silver dress and it fell around her ankles, his eyes widened taking in her naked body.

“Fuck,” he muttered and she grinned at him, reaching out for his hand. She pulled him against her and he kissed her hungrily, biting at her bottom lip as he pulled away. She reached down to undo his belt, unzip his pants but he slid to his knees before her, her eyes lit up as he pushed apart her tan thighs.

His face buried itself between her legs, his tongue darted out and he hummed against her lips at her sweet taste, closing his eyes in absolute delight. She moaned, leaning her head back and leaning against the glass railing, tossing her hair over the edge. He continued to eat her out, feeling her thighs quivering on his face but he wanted more, he thrust his tongue into her pussy. She moaned loudly, her knuckles turning white as they gripped the railing and with one last long lick to her pussy, he stood up. She growled and her green eyes, heavy with lust, turned on him angrily.

“Patience, Mrs. Walker,” he warned with a teasing smiled, unbuckling his pants letting them as well as his boxer briefs drop to the ground. She turned so her breasts hung over the railing and he admired her round ass, slapping it. She yelped and he grinned, spreading her cheeks. He slammed his cock deep inside her, just as she liked and she groaned loudly, he leaned against her. He bit her shoulder and she moaned again.

“Fuck,” she grunted and he smiled, kissing her neck. Her hair was scooped to one side, giving him plenty of access and he reached around, pinching her nipples. She moaned and wriggled her ass, causing him to growl in pleasure. He thrust in and out of her, hungrily demanding her as well as his release. Her moans told him how close she was and he quickened his pace, knowing she liked it hard as she came. He slammed into her, a hand on her shoulder and she cried out in pleasure, he moaned as he spurted inside her. He pulled out of her, stumbling back into the red arm chair on the balcony and she turned, breathing heavily. He admired her large breasts as they moved up and down with each breath. “I told you I wouldn’t be a liability on your missions,” she said, smiling at him and he laughed.

“No, I just have to deal with the erection when we fight,” he stated and she laughed now.

“Not such a bad thing, is it?” she asked and he smiled, shaking his head as he studied her. She was gorgeous and he was a damn lucky man to be married to her.

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fic #august walker #august walker fanfic

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himbocj · 6 years

Text

Gas Station AU!

So, I work overnights at Circle K, and I was inspired to write a Gavin-centric fluff piece after a shitty night I had, which, may or may not have accidentally turned into an entire AU? Either way- here’s the first fic. Enjoy!

—————————————————-

All in all, working the night shift isn’t so bad, Gavin thinks. Especially in a convenience store as slow as the one he worked in, and with such a laid back manager. As long as the floors are swept and mopped, the day is closed out and reopened at two, and the coffee is made every morning, Hank genuinely gave no fucks about what he did. He could sit on his phone and play games, hell, even watch Netflix if he wanted. As long as the tiny store was clean and well-kept, Gavin was in the clear.

Not to mention, Connor’s hot older brother came in every single morning, so that was a plus. His sleep schedule may be a bit fucked, but it was fucked before he got this job anyway. Besides, he only worked three days a week.

Well, four, this week. Connor, on his way home a couple days previous had been pulled over. Apparently, Connor Davis was a really common name. One such Connor Davis, of fucking Vermont, had three warrants out for his arrest, and an unpaid DUI.

So, Connor, their Connor, got dragged to jail. Gavin almost laughed aloud when Tina told him. Connor, sweet, innocent Connor, got arrested? He would have paid to see that.

Hank, in a moment of desperation, had begged him to pick up one of Connor’s shifts, being the only other overnight guy. Just one, he promised, he’d take the other two. The fifty bucks he threw into the deal was pretty sweet too. Besides, it’s not like he had to twist Gavin’s arm. Not only did he need the extra hours, but, he wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to see Niles in all his glory, maybe flirt it up a little.

“Hey, Gavin.” Chris greets him as he walks in.

“Hey, Chris.” Gavin waves back at him, quickly plugging his login to the timeclock database. “No Tina tonight? I thought she was mid.”

“She was, but we switched. I’m guessing you heard what happened to Connor.”

“Yeah, pretty fuckin’ hilarious honestly. I’d’ve loved to see his face.” Gavin smirks as he sets up his phone charger. “I mean, it’s terrible and all, and I feel bad for the guy, but I would have paid good money to see that.”

“I’m pretty sure he cried.” Chris muses. “At least he sounded it when he was finally able to call Hank.”

Oh. Well. Now he just felt like a prick.

“So, I guess Hank was pretty anxious to get his shift covered today?” Chris asks.

“Yeah. Connor was released I guess, after they realized how royally they fucked up, given that the other Connor Davis is, in fact in jail. He offered to come in but Hank just told him to take it easy this week.”

“Yeah. Makes sense.”

Gavin glances at the fogged up windows as he logs into the terminal. The humidity has been a bitch, but at least that means Niles’ hair will have that nice curl by the nape of his neck. Connor, however. Hoo, boy, his hair must be as messy as his life has reportedly been the past few days.

“Nice horror movie aesthetic.” Gavin murmurs. He adjusts the nametag on his polo.

“I know right? All you can see out the windows is headlights. Fuckin’ creepy as hell.” Chris shudders. “Anyway. Hope you don’t mind if I head out a bit early. I’ve gotta be at my other job by eight tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, go ahead, man. It’s gonna be a slow night, anyway.”

“Isn’t it always?”

“True. But like, slower than usual. No deliveries to deal with, except maybe the donut guy. It’s usually the not-creepy one on Wednesday nights, right?”

“Hell if I know.” Chris shrugs. “Anyway. Think I’m gonna grab something for Sadie and head out.” Chris busies himself with shutting his drawer down as Gavin pays in.

Slow night, indeed. Gavin resigns himself to a night of shitty phone games, maybe a few episodes of a new Netflix series.

“When’s Sadie due, anyway?” Gavin finds himself asking.

“Three weeks.”

“Holy shit. You ready to be a dad?”

“Fuck no.” Chris snorts, ringing himself out for a bag of candy on Gavin’s register. “But, at the same time, yeah? I dunno, it’s weird. Like, I’m nervous but I’m also like. Stoked as hell to finally see him, you know?” Chris sighs. “Anyway. Don’t have too much fun.”

“Yeah, no promises. You know me. I’m a regular party animal.”

“Ever the social butterfly.” Chris chuckles. “Have a good night, Gavin.” with one last wave, Chris is out the door and Gavin is alone.

***

All is well for quite a while. Gavin sits on his phone for a good hour or so. He has maybe two customers before eleven. Some kid draws a smile in the condensation on the window outside. Gavin turns the radio on for a bit of background noise.

And then, it happens.

It’s pretty damn normal for people to come in looking rough, and Gavin learned pretty quick to not judge a book by its cover. But the girl that comes in at eleven or so…well, Gavin tries his best to ignore her, even as she ambles through the store for a good twenty minutes, picking things up, putting them down, mumbling to herself. Right when he had to sweep and mop too. It takes all of his willpower to snap at her and tell her he has an actual shit to do.

“Can I help you find something ma’am?” he asks as politely as he’s able. The girl sneers at him. Furrowing his brow, Gavin turns his attention to his phone. Maybe she’s having a bad day.

Finally, finally, she walks up to the counter, placing several items down. Now, it’s only been two weeks that he’s worked for the company, but he likes to think he’s rather good on the register, given that it’s easy as hell.

“How’s your night goin’?” Gavin asks, as he scans each item. No answer.

Okay then.

“…right. Do you need a bag?”

“Yeah.” her tone is annoyingly succinct, like Gavin is the scum of the earth.

“Nine seventy six for you.” Gavin busies himself with putting the items in the bag as the girl slaps a fifty on the counter.

“I need the rest on pump five.”

“Sure thing.” Gavin nods, selects the pump number and presses the ‘rest in gas’ button. “Have a great night.” without another word, the girl briskly walks out of his store. Gavin mumbles under his breath as he puts the money away.

So this is how his night is going to go. Okay, yeah. He’ll just roll with the punches. He’s flexible.

It’s blissfully empty for a few minutes, and Gavin is actually able to sweep up some of the store. He’s almost done when the girl walks back in.

“Hello again.” Gavin calls, hurrying back behind the counter.

“I need my change back.”

“Okay, sure thi-,” Gavin stops when he notices that there’s no option to do so. “Your car took the rest of the gas.”

“But it only took thirty nine dollars out.”

“…right. Plus everything else makes an even fifty.”

“How does that make sense when my total was seven and some change?”

“Wait, what?”

“Can you reprint my receipt?”

“Um…sure…” Gavin does so, and grabs a pen.

“All this should’ve added up to only seven dollars. Ring it up again.” She pulls all her stuff out of the bag, and Gavin stares in disbelief for a second before sighing and doing as she asked. He doesn't have time for this. There’s another customer waiting in line.

“Right, so, it’s nine seventy six. Plus the thirty nine seventy five on the pump.”

“You rang it up wrong. It’s simple math, honey.”

Ooh. Yeah. No. Not today. Gavin can’t handle condescension at the best of times.

“I’d appreciate a little less attitude, ma’am.” He bites out.

“You’re the one who did it, not me!” she snaps back.

“Okay, look right here on the receipt-,” before Gavin can show her the forty nine dollars and fifty one cents that was her subtotal, and the forty nine cents that was her tax, which equals fifty fucking dollars, the lady snatches her receipt back.

“I don’t have time for this, I have to get to work. I’m gonna call corporate, you’re refusing to give me my money back.”

Oh, great. The corporate excuse. Not to mention, she wouldn’t be late for work if she didn’t wander around the store for twenty fucking minutes!

“Jesus Christ, take your three fucking dollars.” Gavin opens his drawer, yanks the three dollars out and hands them over, hands shaking. “You have a wonderful night.” he drives his point home by slamming his register shut.

Okay, so, maybe he should’ve handled that better but Jesus Christ.

Gavin smiles as much as he can at the next customer, only managing a thin, sickly sweet looking curve to his lips.

“Sorry about tha-,”

“I should have two dollars off on this.” the man slams two energy drinks down on the counter.

All-fucking-righty then.

Gavin nods, rings up the two drinks. Strangely enough, the discount doesn’t show up.

And Gavin doesn’t know how to put it on manually. Furrowing his brow, he gets up on his tiptoes to try and check the sign.

“How much is it?” the man all but demands.

“Well, right now it’s five dollars and some change, but-,”

“Five dollars?” the man all but shouts. “For two energy drinks? And that’s with the discount?”

“Well, it’s not on there yet. It should have gone on there automatically, so I’m trying to figure out-.”

“Then why does it say buy two and get two dollars off!?”

“I don’t know sir, it might be part of our rewards program-,”

“It doesn’t say that on the sign.”

If this dude interrupts him one more time.

“I’m trying to figure it out for you, sir.”

“You need to take that sign down, it’s misleading.” the man’s voice is steadily rising in volume. Gavin takes a good look at him. Middle aged, well dressed, absolutely oozing privilege. Figures. The guy probably hasn’t worked a day of customer service in his life.

“I’ll let my manager know tomorrow that-,”

“No, take it down right now.” there he goes again.

“Are you kidding me.” Gavin deadpans.

“Where’s your manager?”

“I’m the only one in the store right now, my manager comes in at six in the morning.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

Gavin purses his lips. “I’ll go take it down right now.” he tells the man.

“Put these back while you’re at it.” the man shoves the cans back at him and storms out of the store.

“Fucking wow!” Gavin shouts as soon as the door closes. He grabs the two cans, storms over to the cooler, and shoves them back in, hands still trembling. He storms back over to the door, checking to see if anybody is in his parking lot. No sign of the two assholes. Good. He locks the door, and just as he does, the angry tears start falling, rapidly.

Gavin storms into the bathroom. The urge to punch something is severe. His hands are still shaking, and he’s still crying angry tears. God, he hates that about himself. He always cries when he’s angry, which makes him even angrier, which makes him cry harder. It’s a vicious cycle.

Gavin crouches, hands gripping his hair as he tries to get a hold of himself. It takes a minute or two to calm down, but he gets there. He fixes his hair in the mirror, wipes his face down with wet paper towels, and goes to unlock the door.

His hands still tremble lightly, but he thinks he’ll be okay. He rubs his hands over his face and takes a deep breath, leaning against the counter. He steels himself when the door opens again, ready to face another asshole.

“Hey there- oh! Hey, Niles.” Gavin furrows his brow as steel grey eyes meet his. “Not that I’m not happy to see my favorite regular, but what are you doing here so early? Or, well, late, I guess, for you.” a ghost of a smile passes over Niles’ lips.

“Connor asked me to check on you. He forgot to tell you about the drug addict that comes in every Wednesday and kicks up a fuss about nonexistent change.”

Oh, yeah. That made sense.

“Yeah, she uh.” Gavin clears his throat. “She was interesting.”

“Oof. Already met her, huh?” Niles’ gives him a sympathetic look. “Connor tells me she can be a downright nightmare.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” Gavin goes for casual, but the crack in his voice gives him away. Niles furrows his brow, steps closer to the counter.

“You alright, Gavin?”

“Oh, me? I’m peachy. After the tweaker came your classic middle aged white man, so that’s great. Also, the windows are fogged so like, I’ve got the horror movie aspect too.” his attempt at a joke is weak at best, voice quavering pathetically. “It’s fine, everything’s fine.”

Everything is not fine.

Gavin opens his mouth to say something more but only manages a pathetic soundle garble.

And just like that, he’s losing his shit again.

“Fuck, sorry, I’m not- it’s not-,” he slams one hand down on the counter, the other moving up to viciously wipe his eyes.

“Gavin.” Suddenly, there’s a warm hand on his. Gavin startles, gaze snapping back up to Niles. He’s smiling, a proper, warm and comforting smile. “It’s okay. Come here.” he gestures Gavin over. He hesitates for a brief moment, before throwing caution to the wind and making his way out from behind the counter. As soon as he’s close enough, he’s gently pulled into a tight hug.

Normally, he doesn’t like to be held like this, even when he’s crying. But…it feels nice, Niles holding him, rubbing soothing circles into his back. It’s totally unprofessional, but fuck it. He allows himself to cry again, and he allows himself to be calmed and soothed by the man holding him.

“Wanna step outside with me for a minute, get some air? The parking lot is empty, so you don’t have to worry about getting customers.” he should hate the softness in Niles’ voice, but he finds he rather doesn’t. He nods, finally pulling himself together.

“Thank you.” he whispers. Niles rubs his back one last times as he pulls away, gesturing towards the door.

Patting his pocket for his cigarettes, Gavin steps out into the humid air, Niles not too far behind him. He lights a smoke, inhaling deeply, relaxing immediately. Niles is quiet beside him, and he’s grateful for that.

A sudden noise from the roof has him flinching suddenly, grabbing onto Niles’ arm. Niles lets out a soft chuckle.

“Relax, Gavin. It’s just the building settling.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“It’s quite alright.”

Gavin all but inhales his cigarette, stamping it out underneath his shoe when he’s done.

“Feel better?” Niles asks.

“Yeah.” Gavin nods. “A lot. Thank you, I…I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it.”

And then Niles does something unexpected. He leans down, and presses a kiss to Gavin’s head.

“Goodnight, Gavin. Hope it gets better for you.”

Niles leaves him there, all but sputtering. He refuses to admit that he’s blushing furiously.

***

Connor stops in right before Gavin’s shift ends to grab a coffee, waves hello to Hank and Gavin in turn.

“Heard you met my friend last night.” Connor says, smile sympathetic. “I’m sorry, I totally forgot to warn you about her. She’s…interesting.”

“An understatement.” Hank grouses.

“Yeah, well, you spent a night in jail. I think the award for ‘worst night ever’ goes to you.” Gavin shrugs as Hank hands him the “Register Closed” sign and tells him he’s good to start counting down.

“It wasn’t horrible.” Connor shrugs. “More of an inconvenience.” he’s definitely lying through his teeth. Gavin huffs out a snort as he counts out his change. “Oh! Niles asked me to give you this. He told me you had kind of a rough night.”

When Gavin looks up, Connor is handing him a piece of paper.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t read it.” Connor winks at him, the asshole, and leans over the counter to talk to Hank.

Gavin finishes counting the money, dropping it in the safe when he’s done. Only after he’s logged out does he open the note.

On it, in neat handwriting is a number, along with:

Sorry I couldn’t come in this morning, I had things to take care of. I hope you’re feeling better though.

Oh, and, let me know if you’d like to hang out sometime when you don’t have to work. I find that I rather enjoy your company, Gavin.

-Niles

Gavin is not blushing, he’s not.

But there’s no way he can fool himself.

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