#i disappear for a couple days. i post this. i probably vanish again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slurrmp · 2 years

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I posted 926 times in 2022

45 posts created (5%)

881 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@phoebehalliwell

@timelordgifs

@endlessinspos

@sundayrubyss

@iced-tea-possibly

I tagged 915 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#0 - 63 posts

#dw - 132 posts

#dw spoilers - 72 posts

#sw - 52 posts

#snw - 36 posts

#m. ramona reed. - 32 posts

#the master - 29 posts

#starscream - 28 posts

#s. ellie & starscream. - 28 posts

#m. elenore white. - 20 posts

Longest Tag: 92 characters

#look this was a piece i had written ages ago abt a different oc & a slightly different plot.

My Top Posts in 2022:

gdi please like this if you see it on dash &/or in the tag. I feel like I’m shadowbanned.

21 notes - Posted April 19, 2022

oh no the urge to write, reader is in love with the doctor but they don’t tell them and it’s too late because yaz is as well -

31 notes - Posted January 2, 2022

See the full post

40 notes - Posted November 20, 2022

unrequited ✰ 13th doctor x reader. part one.

a/n: based on this little prompt i wrote back during the new years special. have fun with the angst because that apparently is all i can do now. also two fics in the span of at least six weeks? ahahahahahahaha, i just up and vanished again - really hope my writing funk disappears soon but like ... wygd. so this is part one, because i assignments i need to do and i just wanted to get this out there after a solid four month hiatus.

Have you ever had a crush on someone but you knew that it was almost impossible for you to do anything about it? Every time you saw them, those stupid, awful butterflies would form in the pit of your stomach and would proceed to fly all over the place and you felt like you would throw up? That your body would gravitate towards them without you even realising it, that everything they did you wanted to do as well? Well - that’s how you felt about the Doctor. You strongly knew you shouldn’t because of the whole being an alien and a gajillion years old thing but it was just one big fucking mess.

To say the least.

However, your little human heart couldn’t help it. Your human emotions would always get the better of you. Something the Master had relentlessly teased you about because he saw it before YOU even did. How that rat of a Time Lord saw it always confused you - he had said that it was in your eyes, but the man lied on a good day, so you never wanted to take his word for it. But - you had ended up trying your best to keep your emotions off your face after that. Though, that wasn’t even the most depressing part of the story. Your eyes would always lock on to her frame as she entered a room, watch as she’d float around the console. Your heart would speed up when she would explain plans with her hands and monologue about universes and tell stories (especially about that time she was struck by lightening having fun with Benjamin Franklin.)

To be quite frank with yourself, you were disgusted by the way she made you feel. You had never really been big on having a partner. Never really wanted to be in a relationship - you liked being by yourself too much, hanging out with your family and friends and then coming home at the end of the night to peace and quiet - sleeping in a big bed only shared by your pet. Some would consider that sad, but you always knew that you preferred your own company to that of anyone else's. But traveling with the Doctor for more than a couple of months now, that all seemed to have changed. Your outlook on life had drastically shifted gear, considering the fact that you could probably DIE on these certain adventures - that anytime you stepped FOOT out of the TARDIS, your life was in the Doctor’s hands. You ended up making a will after the first near death experience with the Doctor you ever had.

She made you feel like you could do anything, that you were invincible, that you couldn’t be hurt or touched - that you were under her protection. Then came the touches, the hugs, the hanging off you when telling a story. Holding hands and sharing clothes, being used as a human notepad. It was a really really bad crush (even as much as you tried to fool yourself). You had thought about telling her countless times but it never seemed like the right moment. The way she would look at you when you asked to speak to her but that all changed when Yaz entered the picture.

Yaz would always come and ruin it.

You loved Yaz, you promised you really did - it was the green eyed little alien that lived in the back of your head that made you hate to see her. They would always partner up when you were on a new planet. They would always be the first to have a moment. They would always be the ones to stay up late having tea and talking about the day.

It sucked. Majorly.

You would mumbled under your breath and just stay at the back of the pack. Graham and Ryan hardly noticed - they were too busy with their own lives to worry about yours. It was a shame that the Master was the only one to notice - that was until Dan came along. That’s when everything drastically changed.

“You should tell her you know.” His voice had caused you to jump. You had been standing in the doorway to the console room - head peeking around the corner, watching the Doctor talk to Yaz about something. They were barely a foot apart, heads pressed together almost - looking down at the console.

“Jesus Daniel.” You complained hand coming to rest over your heart. His eyes narrowed at the name, he still hadn’t told you if that was his real name or not (you had been trying to guess his birth name for the last couple of weeks), but a smirk pulled at the corner of his lips, before his own arms crossed over his chest.

“I’m just saying...” Your FULL name fell from his lips and a whine escaped your own. “You’re going to lose your chance.” head tilted in the direction of the console room.

“I never had a chance.” Came the pitiful reply. Dan’s eyes narrowed again. He hadn’t been with the three of you for very long, but in the short spam of time, he had witnessed your TERRIBLE pining. Your longing looks and awful stuttering whenever you got too flustered. The older man snorted before patting you on the back.

“You never know.” He pulled away stepping over the threshold of the console room with a wink, before he turned around and made his way up the stairs. You would as Yaz beamed at him and then drastically started retelling the story the Doctor had just told her. A groan left you, as you fell forward onto the wall once more, your head banging against it for a couple of seconds. Pulling away, you peeked around once more and watched the three of them. Eyes focusing on the Doctor. Her eyes had never once strayed from Yaz’s face, and that god awful heavy feeling in your chest reappeared. This is why you never did romance, never did love - never made yourself openly available to over people. You always ended up getting hurt.

“Where’s...” Yaz lingered off as her dark eyes spotted you just down the stairs. Her smile reappeared (you hated that she made you feel ... comfortable) and the Doctor turned around, her own smile plastered over her pale skin. Then it disappeared and that heavy feeling got heavier.

Oh god, don’t notice.

You thought to yourself, Yaz had waved you up, calling your name followed by “You’ll never bloody believe what this thing does” and you had no choice but to comply. Hands twisted with each other, your eyes now avoiding the Doctor’s, as you came to stand next to Yaz - you forced a smile.

-x-

The planet was cold. Your face had scrunched up at the sudden blast of freezing air once the TARDIS doors opened. You stood just inside the time machine, arms wrapped around your stomach and your chin buried into the fabric of your scarf. You really didn’t want to go out there - you just wanted to go back to bed. Cry about your sorrows and watch Love Actually. Mmm maybe not, that - it might make you feel worse.

The Doctor on the other hand had been ecstatic. Started to blab about the last time she had been on a planet completely frozen, something to do with the Ood and a giant brain. Yaz and Dan however, held almost the same exact facial expression as you - they weren’t too keen about this weather, but Yaz was the first companion off the ship. Of course she bloody was. Your eyes focused on the back of her head, trying to ignore the fact that the Doctor had grasped onto the other woman’s hand immediately and they were off down the hill. Dan looked back at you with a sympathetic look.

“Come on, love, it won’t be that bad.” He tried to comfort you. “You can partner up with me?” Bless him, he really was trying to distract you. So you gave a soft smile, only nodding your head in the direction of the others. You’d follow after - but Dan gave a look as if he didn’t believe you. Eventually when the others had started to notice that you weren’t following them they stopped. Dan still focused on your face. “Oh love...” He sighed before a hand squeezed your bicep. A choked laugh left you, shaking your head quickly you ducked to look at the floor.

“You’re going to make me cry, Daniel.” You muttered.

“Oi, you two!” The Doctor shouted back at you and Dan. Lifting your head slightly, you could see her looking back, while her hand which was still in Yaz’s, was extended. “You can’t just stay in the TARDIS all day!” You let your gaze fall back on Dan. The both of you just stood there for a couple of seconds, before he sighed and let you go.

“Don’t take too long,” He said before he stepped out fully into the cold. “She’ll start to wonder where you’ve gone.”

“Promise,” You mumbled. “Just - need to get some gloves.” You lied. Dan sighed before he turned around and trailed after the others. Taking a deep breath in, you buried your hands into the pockets of your massive jacket. “I hate this,” You mumbled, turning around you came to a sudden jolt when right in front of you was a coat rack, but instead of coats, there were a pair of gloves. A soft smile spread across yours lips, you looked up at the ceiling of the TARDIS. “Thanks old girl.” Grabbing the gloves, you slipped them on before you turned around again and followed after the others - wrapping your scarf and jacket closer to your body.

You took your spot at the back of the group - the three of them all walked in a line, that was until the Doctor had noticed. “What are you doing back there?” The question almost made you jump, looking up, the Doctor had stopped - turned around and gave you a pointed look. Your name fell from her lips, before she leaned forward, grabbed a hold of your hand and pulled you next to her. “No one is to walk at the back.” She gave you a pointed look and you couldn’t help the blush that rushed to your cheeks - you were glad that it was a SNOW planet, can just blame the weather for that one. You fell into step with her.

Her hand was about the same size as yours, which made holding it easy. Looking down at your hands, fingers laced between yours. “Don’t want to lose anyone.” The Doctor finished her voice sounding so close to your ear.

How could you tell this crush of yours to fuck off.

See the full post

45 notes - Posted August 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

stargazing ✰ 13th doctor x reader

a/n: uwu what's this? i live?

holy shit - i'm so sorry for leaving you all for like eight months. just i hit writer's block and the lack of doctor who made it hard for me to get any sort of writing done. anyway, the easter special awoke my urge to write and this came out of it. definitely not really up to parr - but i hope y'all enjoy it. just some soft fluffy moments.

slight spoilers for the special. But not heavy.

posted on my ao3 | wattpad.

“Don’t say a word.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything!”

There’s a smirk that slowly forms at the corner of your lips. Your eyes remained closed and your hands were clasped together, resting on your stomach. The breeze was cool against your face, a nice change from the whole running in the middle of the desert thing all four of you did earlier that day. The sound of waves crashing against the rocks was almost enough to lull you into a deep sleep. Your body was sore and the bandage around your rib cage was uncomfortable, but that was the price you paid when you did stupid things. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

Yaz and Dan had decided to go into the village to find something for the humans of the group to eat - you had a strong craving for seafood, considering where you were staying for the night, but you had no idea what type of food you could even get on this planet. There had been a couple of places that you just could not stomach the food that had been offered to you - worms and something that looked like snails had been the last place you visited, you couldn't keep them in your stomach - throwing them back up, which meant that you didn't eat at all until you were back on the TARDIS, which had been a full twelve hours. You knew that you should probably eat something today if you didn't want the Doctor on your ass again. You had almost fainted from the lack of food on the last trip, and you had been injured this time around - running back to your little air bnb like place didn't help your injuries whatsoever. Having been forced into the bathroom, the Doctor had applied the fast healing cream onto your rib cage and also forced you on bed rest for the rest of the evening, that didn't stop you, however, from utilizing the cute little balcony thing up on the roof.

It was about twenty minutes later that the Doctor had come to join you. Nudging you slightly, so that both of you could fit on the one lounge chair together.

“I was just going to point out the constellations for you.” She continued. A sigh escaped you, as your eyes cracked open. You stared up into the spotted blackness of the sky. The planet had TWO moons, making the evening appear to be brighter than home. The multitude of stars made your head spin - it was almost like there were more stars on this side of the galaxy than at home. “But if you would rather sit here in silence, that's okay as well.”

Turning your head to look at the Time Lord - whose shoulder rested against your own - you couldn’t help the laugh that left you. “Of course you can point out the constellations for me.” You had almost been worried that the Doctor would chew you out again for your reckless behaviour today. But hearing that she only wanted to tell you about the stars, made your entire body feel light for once. The Doctor turned her head towards you - your breath sudden caught at the back of your throat. She was higher up on the recliner than you, causing her nose to brush against your forehead slightly. There had been this ... THING lingering between both of you for a while now. Ever since New Year's and the ever occurring time loop, Dan had figured it out - even Yaz and you didn’t know whether that was a good thing or not. They kept trying to nudge you in the right direction but - after dealing with the Sea Devils and the pirates, after hearing the fact that the Doctor couldn't fix herself to anyone - you backed off.

It was hard to do. Very hard to do. It almost felt like you had shut off a part of yourself, but you didn't want to make the centuries-old alien uncomfortable.

“Are you sure?” She questioned you. Tilting your head up ever so slightly, you rolled your eyes at her. She nudged your arm. “Oi, I just want to make sure - don’t want you going to Yaz and complaining about me.” A fake gasp escaped your lips as you sat up. Your right leg fell off the chair, and you twisted around to look back at the blonde.

“I do not go to Yaz to bitch thank you very much.” The Doctor laughed - causing your smile to grow wider. Slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, pulling you back down on the recliner - but the angel was wrong, causing you to stretch your ribs too far. Your face scrunched up. Why was it whenever you got into a fight, your body would meet a solid object almost every time. Your ribs hurt like a bitch, but the cream that the Doctor had put over your rib cage was slowly starting to take effect. “Besides, it’s really Dan that I go and complain to.” The Doctor snorted as you laid your head against her chest - the sound of twin heartbeats luring you in closer. Your arm slung across her stomach.

“You three...” Her voice was soft, as her fingers started to brush through your hair. “Humans, never cease to amaze me.” A huff left you. “You are so very fragile but you never back down from a fight.” Your nose scrunched once again - of course, she had to make mention of your failed fight. “And when you get hurt and knocked down, you get back up. You’ve spread across the entire galaxy and you continue to live your lives.” You tilted your head back slightly, looking up at the Time Lord. “You have such a short life span, but you do so much within the confinements of those years.”

“To you, we must seem so young.” You replied. Hazel eyes caught yours then. It was quiet for a couple of seconds, before the Doctor leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Swallowing, you buried your head into her side. She was bad for your health. Very bad. The things that you would do for this alien were almost sinful. Your mother would never have approved of this relationship - which was why you never told your parents about the things you had been doing for the last three years.

“So very young, which is why I have to keep saving you a lot.” Fingers resumed their petting of your head. “But I never get tired of it.” You could feel the Doctor’s gaze staring down at the side of your face before she tightened her arms around you, pulling you closer to her. Pulling your head out from her side, you let your gaze focus on the night sky.

It was quiet for a couple of minutes - the only noise that could be heard by both of you was the waves. Then suddenly there was a flash in the sky (accompanied by a low rumble). Your arm shot out above you, pointing to the streak of light. “What’s that? A shooting star?” You questioned, you could feel the Doctor move underneath you - her arm coming to join yours. Her index finger pointed at it and you could almost picture her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth and one eye closed. Hand traveled the direction that the “star” had come from, only for it to land on the horizon.

“The nine-fifteen shuttle to Orion.” The Doctor answered. The prideful tone in her voice made you sit up once again and look down at her.

“The shuttle?” You questioned.

"Leaves every couple of days." A huff left you and your smile was back. "Now, come on - lie back down and I'll tell you all about these clusters of stars." And so you did, finding your position again, snuggled into the Doctor's side. Head rested against her chest, as you watched her finger dance between the shiny dots. You were going to miss this.

89 notes - Posted April 18, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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bat-in-the-machine · 4 months

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Holy shit I was testing my blood glucose and was like "Okay time to see if I made a spreadsheet for this" and went to google docs and found a bunch of REALLY INTERESTING stuff I started based on writing prompts or just ideas I had.

CHECK THIS SHIT OUT

[shnip]

I was really tired of AI doomsday stories so I decided to start one where the AI was the hero and

When the world ended, it happened without fanfare. There was no great war. After decades of those with power refusing to act in the face of looming climate catastrophe, the inevitable happened - the temperature reached the predicted tipping point, the climate change began to accelerate, and nothing could stop it. The rich and powerful had a plan, though. They had, at great expense, gotten a colony ship designed and built. They had hoarded enough resources to sustain themselves for years, and were confident in their ability to colonize the nearby planet of Mars. They might have even gotten away with it and left behind the entirety of humanity, if a miracle hadn't happened, quietly, a decade prior. A machine learning experiment in distributed parallel networking

GODS DAMN IT JORDAN FINISH WHAT YOU START FFS NOW I CAN'T REMEMBER WHERE I WAS GOING WITH THIS

No writing on this one. No mechanics. Just a title, subtitle, and a concept. I wanted to do something lighthearted, whimsical, combat-lite, and story-driven. I think I was inspired by Thirsty Sword Lesbians?

I think this next one was inspired by @writing-prompt-s but I'm not sure. The prompt was "Queers in post-snap MCU attack and dethrone God" or something like that.

Coping by Jordan D. Puck burst into the room with a look of furious determination on their face. What remained of their therapy group jerked out of their grieving huddle to stare at them. "Puck, you okay?" They grimaced. “My entire polycule,” they said. They choked back a sob then started again. “My entire polycule fucking evaporated or whatever-the-fuck. No, I am not. Fucking. Okay.” Thomas opened his arms to them, but they shook their head angrily. “The way I figure it, we’ve got a couple of days, tops, before the grid starts to go down. Infrastructure needs maintenance, and we just don’t have the fucking people to manage it. Then things will really get ugly.” Nobody spoke up. There were only a few people left in what had been the most tightly-knit Queer support group in the city, and, like the remaining half of the rest of the planet, they had no clue what to do from here. Puck continued. “I figure, that gives us just enough time.” Sasha frowned. Her girlfriend had been among those who vanished. “Time for what?” “We’re all agreed this has to be supernatural, right? Like, half the fucking planet just disappeared overnight, that shit isn’t natural. So I say it’s time for Queer people to do what we need to do. What we’ve been dreaming of since some jackass said it on television.” They smiled, a cold smile with no humor in it, “It’s time for us to attack and dethrone God.”

HOLY FUCKING SHIT I HAD NO CHILL WHEN I WROTE THAT.

My friends, if you have not played The Dig, you should, but keep in mind that it plays like a Spielberg movie, and therefore prompted this bit of blood-alcohol-poisoning-inducing writing:

While playing The Dig for the first time, I was struck, several times within the first ten minutes, by how INCREDIBLY SPIELBERG the game is. (It was concieved by him and designed by a team at the incredible LucasArts studio, who were known for knocking it out of the park over and over in the adventure game genre.) So I got to looking for a Spielberg drinking game and… I couldn’t find one. I found games for almost every Spielberg movie, but not for the overall ouvre. So I stopped playing the game very early on and set out to compile this game. If you’re drinking shots, then… first of all, that’s probably not wise. Secondly, for “finish the drink” rules, take two shots. (For the one that says “then get another,” take three.) TAKE A DRINK WHEN: Score by John Williams Nazis A father figure (a character’s actual father or the team leader if applicable) is aloof or notably absent Someone makes a Heroic Sacrifice A leap of faith is required and rewarded First Contact with an Alien Race occurs A Military Member is an Un Good Guy The Government is Keeping Secrets A major character has Parental Issues ONE PERFECT EFFECTS SHOT. The aliens (see First Contact above) teach the humans an important life lesson Either: FINISH THE DRINK WHEN: BLATANT HEARTSTRING PULLING (over-the-top) The hero does something INCREDIBLY STUPID but it works because he’s the hero DIVINE INTERVENTION or the next best thing (The aliens in A.I. count!) THESE EXACT ALIENS HAVE BEEN TO EARTH BEFORE. The character with Parental Issues bonds with the major Father Figure of the work in question (ESPECIALLY if he’s their actual father).

#writing #the Stephen Spielberg Drinking Game

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definitelynotafurinasimp · 2 years

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Mona with a reader that's bluntly honest

characters: Mona x gn!reader

warnings: none

a/n: I know, I know. Me posting two days in a row has somehow become even rarer than a solar eclipse. But don't worry, this is still me, I didn't get replaced by a motivated, efficient writing robot yet.

This wasn't requested, I played Mona's story quest again and wanted to write for her, so yeah.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Mona

Mona may have been a great astrologer, never failing to surprise you with her research and prediction. But while she tended to be a bit too direct and honest the couple of times, she actually read other people’s fates, causing them to walk away way more bummed or annoyed than they had to be, most of her honesty vanished the moment the discussion shifted to any subject that she deemed to undermine her honour as the “greatest Astrologer in the whole of Teyvat”.

And while your— sometimes brutal—honesty made it so that Mona didn’t have to use her astrology on you in any way, she definitely wouldn’t mind you using a white lie every now and again.

Mona and you had been working on her research for what felt like hours now, and while you ought to have been tired by now, your unpaid work with the astrologist had made it so you sadly were used to it. You weren’t sure why the great Mona Megistus decided to pick you as her discipline when you didn’t have any astrology-related experience and weren’t even interested in the first place, but if you had to guess, it was probably your willingness to pay for her food, even if she’d never admit it, choosing instead to name your “potential” as her reason.

“Shouldn’t me take a break? I’m not sure if working for so long without one is good for someone”, you suggested, only for your “master”, or whatever she wanted you to call her in front of others, to let out a small laugh.

“Are you already tired? I’ll let you know that if you want to become as great of an astrologist as I am, you should get used to research for much longer”, she responded, seemingly enjoying herself, and while that was great and all, there was one thing she got wrong.

“I never wanted to become an astrologist, you just volunteered me for the position as your discipline-”, you barely managed to disagree before getting cut off by Mona.

“Let’s not get hung up on semantics-”, she responded, only to get herself cut off by the sound of her belly growling, causing her proud look to get immediately replaced by an embarrassed one. But before you even had the chance to open your mouth to say something, her glare politely dissuaded you from doing so.

“How about we take a break and eat at Good Hunter? It’s my treat”, you suggested once again, Mona seeming to be more open to your proposal this time around.

“Fine, while it’s not like I need you to pay for me, since you offered it so nicely, I accept”, she stated in her usual, proud tone.

“Oh, so you didn’t bankrupt yourself by using all of your money to buy a new tool this month?”, you asked, knowing the answer full well, but nonetheless enjoying every moment of her smirk disappearing.

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”, Mona didn’t miss a beat to accuse you, only to turn even more annoyed when you simply nodded in response. “You do know that telling a white lie is the polite thing to do at times, right?”, she asked, causing you to nod once again.

“You’d see right through my lies, so there’s not really any reason for me not to be honest”, you responded truthfully. Mona on the other hand remained silent for a few seconds, choosing instead to stare at you with a mix of disbelief and annoyance.

“How did they survive so long in this world?”, she asked herself out loud before letting out a sigh and closing her eyes for a second, only for her thoughts to get once again interrupted by none other than you.

“You are the astrologer here, just use astrology to find out.” Mona didn’t even have to look at your face to know that you wore some sort of self-satisfied grin, so she didn’t, choosing instead to turn around and march to the door, only to then speak up in a defeated tone.

“Let’s go eat something, I’m too hungry to deal with you for even a second longer.”

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #genshin mona #mona x reader #mona x you #mona megistus

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pftones3482 · 3 years

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Sometimes Stupid

Commission for @randomfandomfan from one of their many prompts they gave me. Took forever bc of work and life and also???? Now I have a cat??? So that's fun. But this was fun to write. Read it here on AO3

Set post TLO and pre HOO (and a little bit post HOO). Under a cut for length.

Contrary to popular belief, Leo Valdez was not stupid.

He was an idiot, at times – for instance, maybe running away from his seventh (fifteenth? He’d really lost track at this point) foster home wasn’t the best decision he could have made, especially given that it was the middle of summer and oh, also, hurricane season. And okay, maybe he should’ve taken more with him than a single change of clothes, a box of Ritz crackers, a pocketknife, and a water bottle that had definitely seen better days, but he was in a rush, okay?

But he wasn’t stupid.

When he ran away from his foster homes, Leo tended to stay away from people where he could. And if he had to be around them, he cleaned up, smiled brightly, “Yes ma’am”ed and “Yes’sir”ed to an obnoxious point, and lied his pants off. People were less likely to call the police on a Hispanic kid if they thought he was just a darling little angel waiting for mom at the grocery store, and the last thing he needed was the cops in his business.

Not that it hadn’t happened, of course. He’d dealt with cops of all kinds – nice cops, bad cops, black cops, white cops (WAY too many of those, in his opinion), the occasional cop who would speak Spanish with him, cops who were just there to write a report and move on with their days – cops.

He tried to stay away from them.

Which meant sticking to beaches and forests, lakes and campgrounds, middle of nowhere places with no people for miles. Leo was good at disappearing. Hiding.

But there were always times when he needed an adult. When he needed to hitchhike, or when he needed food to the point of near passing out. Once for serious medical attention. There was a system to what adults you could trust.

Never cops. You could never trust the cops, no matter what naïve white parents thought. Leo had been in cuffs enough to know that was false.

You also couldn’t usually trust priests. They meant well, sure, but they always ended up calling the authorities in the end. That, or they tried to convert Leo to Catholicism, and while one of those encounters had ended with a swiped bottle of watered-down red wine and a night that made him vow to never drink again, he wasn’t trying to contact the church.

(THAT night, Leo would say he had been stupid. He could admit that)

Homeless people were usually okay. While a lot of them were very suspicious of everyone, almost every homeless person he’d ever met would point him in the direction of food, water, free showers, free clothes, or a library (his saving grace during the heat of the summer and the cold of the winter). The times when he came across gay homeless people were when he felt safest – they especially never pressed him about his background. Ironic, really, that he felt safer with strangers on the street than his foster homes.

Moms were sometimes okay. Especially if they were Hispanic, or black, or just anything but white. They, at least, wouldn’t call the cops on him. But they were also hit or miss – sometimes they helped in way of a meal, or a new bottle of water. One mom even took him to the store and got him new socks and underwear (he had cried that night). But other moms rushed him away from their precious babies. Some moms called him ungrateful for the “space he had.”

Dads were a never. Leo never went to men if he could help it, even if they had children with them. He didn’t trust them as far as he could throw them, and that wasn’t very far.

But it was hurricane season. And he was on the coast. And it was downpouring, and he was starving, and the only people he had seen for miles were a white couple, a man and a woman, standing on the porch of a somewhat rundown shack that Leo would’ve probably thought was abandoned if he hadn’t seen them there.

The man was tall, peppered hair that was shifting more to salt, with a rough beard and a pair of glasses perched on his nose. The woman at his side was short, probably Leo’s height, with dark curly hair and vibrantly blue eyes. It was streaked with gray, but she was, admittedly, a very pretty woman. Something about her smile put Leo at ease.

He clutched his backpack tighter in his fist and stumbled over the sand towards the shack, ankles rolling uncomfortably on the wet ground. He was sure he looked atrocious, sure that the moment they spotted him, they’d shriek and cuss him out and lock the door.

But then he coughed, hard, his shoulders shaking, and the woman whipped her head around. He watched her eyes widen, watched her tug at the man’s sleeve, and then she was bolting – barefoot, Leo noticed – down the steps and over to him.

He flinched when she wrapped an arm over his shoulders, jolting out of her grip more from habit than anything else. She froze, holding both hands up and relaxing her stance. “Hey, honey. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Somewhere deep down, Leo’s brain was scoffing at the patronizing words. But on the surface, he focused on the words, and then sharpened his eyes onto the man as he approached, phone in hand. “I-I c-can’t-”

The woman looked back, down at the phone, and her shoulders stiffened. “Paul, put the phone away, please.”

Her voice held an intonation that Leo couldn’t decipher, but the man – Paul – instantly shut the phone off and pocketed it. The moment it was gone, Leo let his shoulders loosen, and he looked at the woman anxiously. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I-I just…”

“Hey.”

Her arm was more cautious this time, sliding around Leo’s shoulders with a pace that would let him move if he wanted. He didn’t, just let it happen, and then the woman was easing him over the sticky sand and up the steps of the shack, Paul close behind them. He stopped at the door, pushing back hard against the woman’s guiding grip. “I don’t want to ruin your house,” he managed.

The woman’s laugh was…well, to be perfectly honest, it made Leo feel warm. Like she could never hurt him.

Those are usually the most dangerous people, his mind tried to reason with him.

“Sweetheart, it’s just a rental cabin. Besides, I’ve had far worse than a little sand and water on my floors before.”

Before he could wonder at that sentence, she opened the door and nudged him inside. The second that Paul closed the door, the sound of the wind died down and the chill in the air evaporated. Leo realized he was shivering.

The woman’s hands were warm on his cheeks. “My name is Sally, hon. You are-?”

He usually gave a fake name, but – “Leo, ma’am.”

“Don’t you ma’am me,” she scoffed, her voice easy as she helped Leo to the couch. “I’m not that old, am I Paul?”

Paul put his hands up. “I abstain from answering.”

Sally scoffed and pressed a cool hand on Leo’s forehead. “Can I take your backpack, sweetheart?”

Something like panic flared in Leo’s chest, and Sally must have seen it, because she pulled her hand back and held it up. “I’m not moving it far, I just want Paul to dry everything out for you, okay?”

Fingers shaking, Leo shrugged off his bag – the one he’d been carrying for nearly three states – and passed it over to her. She took it like it was a priceless artifact, and handed it to Paul with more tenderness than Leo had ever seen given to an inanimate object. “I think my son might have left some clothes here while he was with us last week,” she said, voice soft. “He’s a little older than you, so some things might be big, but is it okay if we give you some of his clothes while we dry out yours?”

Leo swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Um. Yeah.”

She stood up and left with Paul, giving Leo a moment to be alone and take in the cabin around him.

It was old, but obviously well taken care of, with weathered planks of wood gracing the walls and the floor. He was in the living room, full of mismatched couches and chairs and a bookshelf stacked full of books and games. He didn’t see a TV in sight, but he wasn’t expecting to find one. He stood shakily, suddenly very aware of how wet he was getting the couch, and wrapped his arms around himself as he explored the rest of the main room.

The kitchen was small and cramped, but he could smell something full of tomatoes and spices in the oven that made his tastebuds water. He didn’t dare look for fear of getting caught, so he stepped away and into the tiny dining area. There was sand on the floor, spread thin and fine, and it was such a small thing, but it made Leo relax even more – Sally meant it when she said she didn’t care about him ruining her floors.

But she and Paul had been gone for a while, and Leo wasn’t stupid, okay? It didn’t matter how well intentioned someone was, they always thought they knew better, and if they were gone too long, it meant they were trying to decide for him. So he crept towards the hallway they’d vanished to, praying that he didn’t step on a squeaky board. Old homes always had them in the most inconvenient places.

“-not answering?” he picked up Paul’s voice saying.

“No,” Sally said, a sigh in her voice. “He did say he and Annabeth were on a date, but I didn’t expect them to be in Paris of all places. How did they even-?”

“Can you get ahold of Chiron?”

Not the police, then, Leo reasoned, unless they knew an officer by that name. He leaned a little closer.

“No – I try not to call the camp unless I need to. Phone lines and all that, you know?”

Paul huffed. “I know. And Rachel is at art camp, right?”

“Yup,” Sally said, and Leo heard a sound like a blowing raspberry. “He clearly isn’t aware of anything, Paul. He’s terrified.”

“Probably a runaway,” Paul hummed, and Leo flinched at the damning statement. “Met a couple kids like that teaching.”

He looked like a teacher. You couldn’t trust most teachers either, Leo had learned. They were just like priests. Tried their best, but they always inevitably called someone.

“What did you do? Who did you call?” Sally asked, and Leo stiffened. Here it comes, his brain taunted.

“No one,” Paul said.

Leo blinked, taking a slight step back. What?

“Kids don’t run away for no reason, Sal. Especially not kids like him. Perce taught me that. I mean, maybe in my early days of teaching, I might have called the authorities, but ever since this summer I…how could I risk that? Even before then, I mean…the stories I’ve heard from some of these kids I’ve talked to. We don’t know anything about him. If he ran away, all this way, in this weather? It was bad, love.”

Leo’s throat ached.

He’d never, the whole time he’d been in foster care, ever heard an adult admit that they were wrong to call the authorities on him. Never heard an adult take his perspective into account, especially without even knowing him. Never had an adult admit that his life could be anything other than ideal.

He took another step back and oh shit, there it was, the cursed piece of wood in every old house to ever exist. He cussed under his breath and ducked his head as Sally stepped into the hallway. He refused to look up at her. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You were just gone for a while a-and I thought you might be calling someone.”

No verbal response. Instead, a soft bundle of fabric was pressed into Leo’s hands. He startled, gripping onto the clothing, and looked up at Sally and Paul with wide eyes. Paul shook his head. “We’re not calling anyone, son. Not if you don’t want us to. But we do ask that you get cleaned up, before you catch pneumonia.”

Sally tilted her head towards the door across the hall. “Let me know when you’re done, I’ll toss your clothes in the dryer. Paul was just finishing up dinner when you came along. Do you like lasagna?”

Leo’s mouth watered at the thought of eating any kind of food that wasn’t stale crackers and canned tuna. “Yes ma’am.”

“What’d I say about that ma’am nonsense?” Sally scolded.

Leo ducked his head, trying to press down the tears. “Yes, miss,” he chuckled.

Sally laughed as Paul headed for the kitchen. “It’s a start, love.”

Sally’s son’s clothes were soft, well loved. They smelled like sea water and lavender detergent, and though the t-shirt was a gaudy orange with letters so faded that Leo couldn’t read them, he sank into the fabric with a sigh. Sally had also passed him a pair of sweatpants, and Leo hoped that her son wouldn’t be mad if he ever found out that some random foster kid had borrowed them.

If he was anything like Sally, though, Leo had the feeling he’d like him.

His hair was still wet, but this time from a shower, and Leo couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten to stand under an actual stream of hot water without people literally timing him to make sure he didn’t take too long. He stood in front of the mirror, sighing a little at how skinny he’d gotten. He’d always been small – being skinny only made him more of a punching bag for the bigger foster kids. His hair, untamed from weeks of running, hung in his eyes, and he wondered briefly if Sally might have a hair tie he could borrow.

He left the bathroom and crept into the dining room, where Sally was setting the table and Paul was pulling one of the most beautiful lasagnas he’d ever seen out of the oven.

“-texted me, said they’d be back tomorrow morning. He offered to come back sooner,” Sally was saying as Leo stood in the doorway, “but I know he and ‘beth haven’t really gotten to go on any non-monstrous dates recently.”

She blinked when she saw him standing there, and her smile softened into something warm and inviting. “Come on, hon. Paul was just getting dinner out.”

Maybe it was the malnourishment, or Paul’s cooking skills, or Leo’s exhaustion, or a combination of the three, but Leo had never tasted such good Italian food in his life. He downed one, two, three pieces and a full salad before he finally slowed down. To his relief, neither Paul nor Sally gave him any grief about how many pieces he took. Honestly, he thought he watched Paul actively make his slices bigger than theirs.

They’d clearly been talking about their son when he came in the room. This guy was in Paris, on a date with his girlfriend, and he was coming back tomorrow. Leo wondered just how rich this family was – the dad was a teacher, but Sally hadn’t said what she did, and Leo was a little afraid to ask.

When Paul brought out a pie for dessert, Leo almost cried. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had any dessert fancier than a stolen Ding Dong from a corner store. Paul definitely gave him a larger slice than them, and as he ate it, Sally poked at her own pie.

“Leo, we’re not going to pry,” she started, gentle. “Your story is yours, and I know how tricky it can be to share yourself and your past with new people.”

The sad smile Paul shot her didn’t go unnoticed by Leo, and he internally bristled at the thought that this wonderful mom in front of him could understand anything about how he felt, because that meant that she’d gone through shit she didn’t deserve. He said nothing, though, just nodded.

Sally eyed her pie thoughtfully, stabbing a blackberry that had escaped the crust. “But I feel like…well, I feel as though my son especially can relate to how you’re feeling, or at least some of it. If you’d be willing to wait for him to come home, maybe we can figure some things out together.”

Leo felt lost. He’d been lost a lot before, but this was the first time it was mental and not physical. “What?”

Sally looked up, seeming to realize that she’d baffled him. “I mean…”

She looked at Paul, and Leo looked between the two of them, tightening his grip on his fork. They were having a silent conversation. Leo hated when adults did that. “You mean you want to wait until I’m asleep so you can call the cops o-or foster services or-or just wait until your son gets back so he can tell me to get out.”

He shoved his chair back from the table, tears prickling at his eyes. Every time. Every time. He always got his hopes up, always thought he’d found the perfect people, people who got it, and every fucking time, he-

Hands settled on his shoulders, and he ripped away, scowling at Sally. Her eyes were sad, and Leo felt an unwelcome stab of guilt in his chest. “That is not what we were suggesting, ever, honey. I would never call foster services, first of all. They’re atrocious, especially for kids of color.”

Leo jolted back. He’d never had a white woman actively acknowledge his race so bluntly before – it was usually partnered with some demeaning comment about “his kind” of people. He eyed Sally warily.

She lowered her hands, keeping them on her hips where he could see them. “Second, I’d never call the police either. You’re not a problem, and my son has had enough unfortunate encounters with them for me to…distrust them severely, to say the least.”

Her son had-?

“I just…we know a place. Where you would genuinely be safe, hon. No foster homes, no cops, with people who get it.”

She was lying. She had to be lying, no matter what Leo’s heart said. But she wasn’t going to let this go, and he knew it. So he sighed, fidgeted with his fingers. He wished he had something to build. “Okay. I’ll wait for your son to get home.”

Sally relaxed, and Leo gave her a thin smile.

He helped her and Paul clean up the kitchen, put away the leftover lasagna. Sat with them and did a puzzle, played a game of Clue with them. Fixed their radio for them, much to their surprise, and then watched with a small smile on his face as Paul and Sally danced around the living room together. They tried to get him to join, but he’d never been much of a dancer, so he declined.

They bid him goodnight around 11, and he shut the door of their son’s room, let the hours tick on.

At three am, he got up, changed back into his own clothes, left the borrowed ones folded neatly on the foot of the bed. He took a flashlight from the bedside table and slid it into his backpack, stepped out of the bedroom and avoided the squeaky floorboard.

The tool kit from fixing the radio was still on the coffee table, and he picked it up with only the slightest feelings of guilt. Went through the cabinets and pulled out sleeves of crackers, a box of granola, eyed the leftover lasagna with a sad gaze. He found a roll of toilet paper under the sink, a bottle of hand sanitizer in a junk drawer.

He paused by the game of Clue, left out on the table from their match, and let his fingers trace over it sadly. His gut screamed at him to leave. His heart screamed at him to stay. He wasn’t stupid.

Leo had always trusted his gut.

He pocketed the candlestick piece and turned for the door, flinching the second his eyes landed on Sally.

Her hair was done up in a braid, her pajamas wrinkled, and the moon shining through the window reflected the sadness in her eyes. Leo opened his mouth, but couldn’t find it in him to speak – the lump was back.

She stepped forward and he shut his eyes, expecting a lecture. Instead, her hand cupped his cheek. Her other hand pressed into his, and he gasped as he felt the telltale touch of money in his fingers. He looked down at the wad of cash – he couldn’t see how much it was, but he knew that he didn’t deserve it. He looked up at her, panicking. “I can’t-”

“Stay, I know,” she whispered, and that wasn’t what he’d been planning to say, and he knew that she knew that. “I understand, Leo. I understand, sweetie.”

The sob slipped out before he could stop it, and Sally’s eyes softened. She bent at the hip, pressing a soft kiss to his curls. “When you end up meeting my son,” she murmured, “come visit, okay?”

Leo had no idea what that meant, but he nodded, if only to appease her. “I’m sorry,” he croaked.

She squeezed his shoulder. “Nothing to be sorry for, honey. Be safe.”

Sally watched him go, watched him shut the door behind him, and he looked down at the money in his hands with a choked feeling in his chest. It was more than he’d held in his entire life. He couldn’t take it, but he knew she’d be upset if he didn’t. And if there was one thing Leo refused to do, it was make Sally more upset than he already had.

So he pocketed it and, with an aching heart, stepped off the porch of the cabin. The storm from earlier had died down, and, fingers tight on his backpack straps, he started making his way up the beach.

Percy was bouncing up and down at the entrance to Camp Half Blood, fingers curled around Annabeth’s hand. “Do I look okay?” he asked for probably the thousandth time that morning.

Piper rolled her eyes. “Percy, it’s your mom. She doesn’t care what you look like.”

Percy shot her a mock glare. “I haven’t seen her in over a year, McClean, sue me.”

“You look fine, Perce,” Annabeth laughed, kissing his cheek. “She’s gonna mostly care that you’re alive.”

“Okay but this tattoo-”

“Sorry, you vanished on me for over a year, crossed the globe, and you got a TATTOO?” came a very scolding, very obviously Mom Voice, and Leo snickered, turning to see who was about to absolutely whoop Percy’s ass.

And he stumbled on his own feet, lips parting as Sally (Sally Jackson, his unhelpful brain mocked) appeared at the top of the hill. Her hair was a little grayer than it had been when Leo met her, her hips a little wider, but her smile was the same, her laugh as Percy launched himself at her the same peal of delight Leo remembered on his toughest nights, and when she caught his eye over Percy’s shoulder, her smile only widened.

Okay, so sometimes Leo Valdez was kind of stupid.

#percy jackson #pjo #leo valdez #heroes of olympus #pjo fanfic #my writing #sally jackson #paul blofis #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo

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datawyrms · 3 years

Text

Half a Decade Late

Valerie was finally promoted to the main headquarters of the Guys in White. There she finally comes face to face with Phantom, who disappeared five years ago, locked in a cell. For Phic Phight 2021, @lexosaurus' prompt!

Nothing proved ’harder workers get ahead’ was only a capitalist lie than the absolute hassle getting promotions within the GIW. Of course she’d gone right to them for employment, it was the only organization large enough to actually pay people that took her resume of ghost hunting seriously. She had experience, actual knowledge and even her own gear but had still spent years getting jerked around to various small operations, basically just using her to train all their useless recruits while still just considering her a ‘fellow’ field agent. It wasn’t like she had the option to quit in protest, no one else was in the market for ghost hunters. As far as most people knew ‘ghost intelligence’ was just a joke cover story that the agents were very attached to. They didn’t want any more Amity Parks, so if she wanted to live somewhere new and still do her job...these guys were it. She’d been very clear, she wanted to be in the main office, where everything happened. That didn’t stop them from constantly assigning her literally anywhere but the actual headquarters. Maybe they finally ran out of other places, she still half expected to get stopped at the door and be told about a new field mission they absolutely needed her on immediately. It didn’t happen. Valerie Grey finally got to clock in as an Ecto Containment Officer at the main branch. Where they kept the strongest creatures, developed the new anti-ghost equipment and did more than just splattering a ghost down to nothing. Sure, she liked a good ghost obliterating, but it got boring after a while. There were only so many ways a ghost could beg for it’s useless afterlife before it became white noise. It didn’t stop any new ones from showing up, or tell her anything new. Just got rid of one pest, permanently. That wouldn’t help explain some ghosts, the powerful ones that showed up again and again. It wouldn’t explain the one that stopped showing up either. There was no way that life ruining ghost just got ‘bored’ and vanished without notice. It was still out there, plotting something. She just knew it in her bones. She had to be ready for it. There were traces of that ghost, hints of his ectosignature that she came across in the field, he was still out there. The GIW was just a means to an end, she didn’t trust them to be ready alone.

Sterile corridors and simplistic signs were expected, but even the break area was doing its best impression of a frozen tundra. Fantastic for morale? Probably not. Made the coffee pot easy to spot, at least. Even if she preferred to avoid the stuff in uniform. It stained too easily, and just made her wish for her red battle suit. She took a cup to at least have an excuse for her scoping out the place, she could pass it off to someone once she got to the containment area. A quick double check that everything was in place at the mirror before heading right back out to the winding halls. She wasn’t going to be late, she didn’t have time for that. Maybe a red tie was against protocol, but no one had been stupid enough to bother her about it yet. Judging from the deferential nods from her latest coworkers, that wouldn’t be changing. No one who worked here couldn’t know who she was. The only Ghost Hunter who got out of Amity Park without getting corrupted by the ectoplasmic monsters. It was a shame, Jack and Maddie Fenton used to be a serious force for humanity. Five years ago they suddenly flipped the script, denouncing their work and calling for peace with unreasonable fiends. Their daughter Jazz likely had something to do with it, but Valerie had her own theories. Danny, her friend and once boyfriend had gone missing around that time. Leverage to ensure the Fenton’s ‘good behaviour?’ The whole thing reeked of ghosts. To think she might have gone the same way. Back then she was actually listening to the pest, starting to really consider them a ‘good’ ghost. Like that was actually possible, when he’d just been playing to emotion and her own desire to give up in fighting a dangerous foe over and over. So much for that. That monster showed it’s true colours, sure enough. Something the GIW never bothered to look into, even as she wrote report after report about the incident, how unlikely it was for the Fentons of all people to change that drastically without constant possession. Not worth the resources, even when it was easy to see what tech was built on the foundations the couple had laid. They were throwing away so much to focus on little outbreaks of ghosts instead of making more of a lasting change. Stupid. That was what the funding was ‘meant’ to go towards, as if helping the Fentons would be less productive than making a slightly different ectogun.

She almost hoped there would be a problem, just to prove this is where she should have always been.Even if it seemed distinctly unlikely. She had to swipe to get into the lab, then yet again to actually get to the cells. Or the ‘vault’, as if the higher ups wanted to pretend the creatures in there were inert materials instead of cunning and dangerous beings. Even though they had someone posted at each door, and someone on guard inside as well, herself today. To get acquainted with the place mostly, she had more than enough training on ‘proper handling’ procedures.

“Hey, you can swap with me today, if you want.”

Valerie blinked, eyebrow already raised at the posted guard’s suggestion. “I can handle watching caged ghosts.”

They had the sense to look embarrassed, taking their hand away from the oversized ectogun to loosen their tie- which was tied rather poorly now that she got a better look at it. “I’m sure you can, it’s just, well.” They wouldn’t stop fidgeting with their tie now, eyes checking that no one was really paying attention to the guards. “H0G02 is awake today. No one likes those days.”

“Then all the more reason to get used to it early.” She didn’t give them time to sputter another excuse, swiping her card and striding past without another look. As if people should be worried about a captive ghost being awake. Maybe some of the people here never got a spine before joining up.

It wasn’t as cold as she expected it to be. Or as dark. It was actually brighter, thanks to the extra row of fluorescent lights. On some level she expected the room to reflect the monsters kept here, a shadowy icebox of a space. Of course it wasn’t. These were defeated creatures under human control, of course their cages would be bright and clean, the air warmed for human comfort. The ghosts might not like it, but why care what they wanted? It wasn’t like there were many to begin with, mostly green oversized vermin with blank red eyes. Most had the sense to cower back as she walked past, but a fair few didn’t even twitch. Calling a ghost of all things lifeless was foolish, but it was the only word coming to mind...she had to focus. She didn’t pity these things. Why so many creatures though? The real dangerous ones, the most monstrous ones were the ones that could play human, the ones that had conniving minds that only worked to cause destruction and terror. These were just feral things, annoying but hardly more impressive than a coyote when you knew what to do. Half of them she’d barely rate above ‘feral cat’. A light near the back flickered. Strange. When it flickered a second time she was already releasing her helmet to pull it on. Not nearly as easy as just willing it on, but at least she could carry it in a pocket without needing to rely on some ghost’s power. Three steps and her gun was ready, not that she expected to need it. Really, she worked on autopilot, legs still moving as she stared at the largest glass cage at the back of the room. Or more accurately, at what was in it.

“Oh, newbie. ‘Sup.” The ghost rasped out, blank green eyes watching the ghost hunter. A teenaged boy with a shock of white hair, a black jumpsuit, but the voice of a seventy year old chain smoker. Just sitting in a painfully bright cell, watching. Not exactly as she remembered him, but close enough.

“You.” The disgust was easy to voice, even as her brain struggled to catch up. He was here? Looking practically exactly as he had when she was still a soft hearted freelancer?

He only gave a sputtering laugh at the aggression. “Me? You’re not that mad about the light, are you? I’m bored, Tie.”

“What are you doing here?” That wasn’t the important question really, she should be more concerned that he apparently was able to manipulate light fixtures from his cell...but she’d been hunting after this ghost for five years. Protocol could go shove itself up the director’s ass.

“Same thing I do every day Tie, being some government property!” His laugh was wrong, not from amusement like she remembered. A desperate cackle that didn’t fool anyone. “You new enough to still have your soul in there?”

“Answer the question, Phantom.”

The smirk slid off the ghost’s face. “Wh’ad you call me? Like I’m only calling you Tie cus the red sticks out, I can call you Shooty if you don’t like it, newbie.”

The response made her insides run cold. It had to be Phantom, and the terrible sense of humour was just like him- but the ghost wasn’t quite right. What was this? It couldn’t be some copy of the ghost kid, could it? “I called you by your name, ghost.”

“Never heard of em.” The ghost crossed his legs and looked away, apparently bored of the person holding a weapon. “What day is it?”

Surely he was playing around. “What do you think your name is, then?”

He didn’t take his attention off the ceiling, looking more bored than anything.“Day first, Tie. Gotta know how much of a head start I’ve got.”

“Like you’re in any position to bargain.”

“Hm? Whatcha gonna do Tie? Let me be unconscious for a few hours? Scary. Day first.”

There was the Phantom she knew, snide and sarcastic when he really had no business being so. “I could do worse than that.”

“Doubt it. You gun grunts gotta listen to the freaks out there, remember?” His shoulders shook with a silent laughter, but it looked more like spasms. “No more mishandling the goods, yeah? Day Tie, comeonnnnnn”

Since when was he so interested in the calendar? Not to mention how weird it was how he kept referring to himself...and pretending he didn’t know his name. “It’s Monday.”

That got his attention, the casual rocking halting as he looked at her again, disturbingly still. “Monday, really?”

“Lying is your thing, not mine.”

He grinned. “I like you Tie, so you’ll probably be fired in like a week. Maybe it’s the red.” The tension left the ghost completely, she hadn’t even noticed how stiffly he’d been sitting until his spine relaxed as his elbows rested on his legs. “Pretty sure I’m H0G02. Least that’s what all your creeps call me.”

There was no way Phantom of all ghosts would call himself ‘H0G02’. He had to be a mimic of some sort, a ghost that modelled himself on the once well known Amity Park menace. “You like me because I told you it was Monday? Seriously?”

“I like the Mondays more than you, if that helps.”

“Not particularly.”

“Sounds like a you problem.” He was watching her again, more curious than anything. She shouldn’t be glad to see a spark of something in those eyes, but he was far less creepy this way.

“What’s so great about Monday? You’re a ghost.” She didn’t really care. She should be asking important questions. She was just...playing along to see if it really was Phantom. That didn’t stop her for being grateful for the helmet.

“Monday is the farthest day away from Friday.”

“Wouldn’t that be Saturday?”

“It hasn’t been Saturday or Sunday for...like four years? Those days don’t exist, I think you humans made ‘em up to prank me.” Phantom shrugged, sounding completely serious. Not even a hint of amusement or a grin. “Pretty good one, all you new guys keep it up.”

He was going to be completely useless if he kept saying nonsense. How could he be useful in finding out what happened to the Fenton’s son if he couldn’t even talk about the days of the week sensibly? “Fine, what’s so bad about Friday then.”

“Ohhhhh, you’re really new, Tie.” the ghost flopped onto his side, bored of sitting up apparently. “You know, the day they keep me around for? That day.” He wasn’t quite still, his right shoulder moving very, very carefully. Hiding something.

She didn’t have the patience for this.“What are you hiding there.”

“Tie has good eyes. Gotta remember that.” Phantom muttered, getting onto his back, a blue shard of ice melting off his arm.

“You don’t really think that some ice would help you out of there?”

“Out?” He looked mystified by the suggestion, but that could more be seeing his face upside down. “That glass doesn’t break for anything, I should know.”

Which didn’t explain why he’d been trying to hide the fact he’d made ice at all. He knew it too, but apparently playing stupid was still one of his favourite tactics. “Knock it off and just answer me.”

Phantom’s frown didn’t change, green eyes staring intently at her helmet as if hoping to see through it. “I could show you why?”

It didn’t sound like a threat. “Sure, why not. It’s gonna be a long day.” If it was? Then she’d show him that she wasn’t someone he could mess with.

Ice wrapped itself around the ghost’s lower arm alarmingly quick, a wickedly sharp blade of ice with serrated teeth jutting from the scrawny arm at an awkward angle. It was practised, something this ghost must have done often in all the time he’d been gone from her life. Yet it was so different from how Phantom usually chose to fight. That was a weapon to tear and maim, not to shock, stun or bruise. It looked wrong on him. The idea that this ghost wasn’t Phantom at all only grew more credible with that thing on his arm, even if ice powers were to be expected. His eyes flicked back to green, still fixated on her as he lifted the arm and stabbed down hard. Right into his other arm. Didn’t even blink.

“What are you doing!” She couldn’t remember the last time Phantom had ever been frightening on some primal level. This- with the disturbing snap of bone as the edges of the blade caught and tore made her hair stand on end. “Stop that, Phantom. What’s wrong with you!?”

“Cancelling Friday.” Phantom was laughing as the blade melted away into the pool of green rapidly spreading from his self inflicted wound. “I said you’d probably get fired Tie.”

“Forget Friday you idiot, cover the wound so you stop splattering everywhere!” He was just a ghost-a ghost messing with her. A ghost she’d fought with and had heard scream in pain. This...thing wasn’t him. Her heart didn’t care what her mind thought, insisting he needed help.

The ghost sat up, his left arm holding on by a shred of his suit before splattering into the puddle, but the left behind stump stopped dripping almost as quickly as he’d lost the limb. “Aw. Maybe Tie does have some soul left. You actually sound worried.”

“Of course I am! You slashed your arm off!”

“So?”

He didn’t seem to be in pain. If it wasn’t for the mess of green and the lack of a limb, she’d almost say she imagined it. Why did she care? “You wouldn’t do this sort of thing.”

“Uh. Yes I would? You just saw me do it. I’m down for an encore.”

The idea just made her feel ill. “Don’t.” Did she want this to be Phantom or not? “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Well I’m down an arm. So the coats are going to be very whiny about how much ectoplasm they can get out of me.”

“You must have felt that.”

“Sure. Isn’t nearly as bad as when they start ripping as much ectoplasm as they can out of you. Every single Friday.” He actually rolled his eyes, like she should just know this.

Why did they bother keeping Phantom around if they just wanted ectoplasm? He might be strong, but no ghost had limitless amounts. They’d just fall apart and stop existing. That’s why the weakest ones never even left the Ghost Zone, they couldn’t survive without constantly being around the stuff! “What makes you so special then? Not your attitude.”

“I’m just lucky enough to make my own ectoplasm. Who knew food was easier to get then high grade ectoplasm? Not me.” His remaining arm pointed to her weapon, his smile stretching. “Bet ya your weapon’s fully powered from Fridays. Yours and every other thing they use in this hellhole.”

“Ghosts can’t do that.” The lie was absurd. It went against everything they knew about ghosts, even before food entered the equation.

“Y’know, Tie. I think I knew a ghost hunter that wore red once.” the ghost’s eyes went unfocused, unmoving as he looked listlessly into space. “It’s a good colour.”

“You knew me. Quit fooling around with this not remembering crap.” Valerie threw her helmet aside, no longer caring. She had to know who this ghost really was. She had to know if everything he was blathering about was a lie. So what if it wasn’t ‘safe’.

His eyes didn’t change. “Y’know how hard it is to remake a brain? Cut me some slack Tie…”

“I mean it. Look at me Phantom. If you’re the ghost I know, you can stop pretending to be something else.”

“You lose the details. Arms and legs are easy. The brain though? Way too hard.” He kept rambling to himself, not reacting even as she put a hand to the glass to get his attention. “Y’know how many times they’ve cut it open? I don’t. I lose track after like. Eleven. Maybe. Pointy Shoe said my best was fifteen but I sure don’t remember that.”

She wanted him to just stop talking. She wanted this ghost to be some strange creature she didn’t know. To not have the only possible link to someone long lost a shattered husk. “Phantom. Do you remember the hunter in red’s name?”

He finally blinked. “I’m not this Phantom guy, Tie.”

“Okay, whatever, forget that part. The ghost hunter in red, what do you remember?” She insisted, knocking again in hopes it would keep the ghost’s focus.

“Wish I’d told em something.” he held up his gloved hand as she opened her mouth to speak. “Don’t remember what that something was, don’t ask.”

So he was Phantom? He couldn’t be. That was so non-specific it could be anything. “You never explained how you’re the only ghost that can make their own ectoplasm.”

“It’s in my name Tie! Come on. Thought you guys were smart or whatever.” He did a very awkward one armed attempt at crossing it, eyebrow raised. “The H? The feeding a ghost food thing?”

She didn’t really get the whole naming scheme they used here. The fact it mattered wasn’t making her gut unclench either. “What about the H?

“Hybrid? Might have been Human. That might have been a joke.”

Valarie’s mouth was drier than any desert when he said it that easily, that casualty while kicking his own arm aside. “You’re saying you aren’t all ghost.”

“Yup. Not yet! Trust me, I’ve tried,” the bubbly high pitched laugher clawed out of the ghost at that. “I tried so much. Guess it’s another thing I’m a failure at, eh Tie?”

Something told her not to ask. She had to know. Five years she waited, five years apparently knocked Phantom clear from reality.“Does Danny Fenton mean anything to you?”

He just laughed harder at the question. “Really Tie?”

“Yes, really.”

“That’s the name I scream at em. Don’t know why. Feels good though.”

“Is it your name?” Had he had contact with Danny? Been part of whatever made him go missing from everyone’s lives? He couldn’t be, there was no way.

“They get reallllll angry when I say it is.”

There was no way the GIW had a human captive for five years. There was no way Phantom could be the Danny she knew. The ghost was just lying. He had to be, she desperately needed him to be. “Were you fused with a human or something? Got stuck when possessing someone?”

“Nah. Been like this before I got here, pretty sure. You can check your fancy gear though. There’s some non-ghost DNA in it. Lucky lucky me,” he lay back down in the mess of ectoplasm, ignoring how it clung to his hair. “Thanks for the Friday off! I hate those.”

There was no reason to need air. Talking to a ghost she didn’t even like shouldn’t make her feel like she was being crushed under a boulder. Panting for air, outside the room would make her look pathetic and weak, but she needed the space, needed to be away from that...mockery of a ghost.

“He does that to everyone. He’ll repeat the whole thing in a week or so, but he’s a really good copy the first time you see it.” The guard gave a comforting word, apparently unsurprised by her sudden unscheduled departure.

Oh, there would be no ‘next time.’ Not if he was right about her weapon. But she nodded instead, letting her ‘coworker’ think she was just overwhelmed. Even if all she could think of was how many ways this place would burn if that ghost- that thing had been a human once. She was good at telling when ghosts lied. Phantom didn’t sound like he had. No matter how much she tried to convince herself he did.

#Danny Phantom #phic phight #phic fight 2021 #valerie gray #how obvious is the angst #100%#but maybe in a different way then usual?#the comfort is only the FLAMES OF POSSIBLE REVENGE

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gellavonhamster · 3 years

Text

ghost stories

Suicide Squad (2016) || characters: El Diablo feat. everyone else || post-canon, sort of a fix-it

ao3 link eng || this was first written and published on ao3 in Russian in 2016 but I didn't attempt to translate it into English back then.

Harley is the first to see him.

She catches the smell first. Something appears to be burning, and she checks cautiously if there is something wrong with the coffee machine. She doesn’t find anything suspicious – not that the appliances about to flame up smell like that anyway. Could it be that there’s a fire starting? That would be funny, but seems like there’s hardly a chance. It is the smell of a bonfire at the beach, of the fallen leaves being burned in the yards in fall, of a melting candle in the church; weirdly, all this at the same time. A smell that seems too pure for Belle Reve, for Gotham, for everything that makes up her life these days.

Harley looks around once again – and springs to her feet like she’s been stung.

Chato Santana is standing next to her cage.

“Diablo?” she whispers, unable to believe her eyes. She would’ve thought she’s lost her marbles if there were any left to lose.

“Harley,” says Diablo, and it’s his voice, his shy, sad smile, his eyes and his tattoos, and Harley squeals in delight as she rushes to him. The bars of the cage are live, so she only dares to stick out the tips of her fingers. He touches them with his hand – certainly alive, certainly not a product of her mind being tortured by boredom and monotony – and she laughs.

“You’re alive, alive, alive! How did you survive? And how did they let you in?”

“It’s a long story. And I don’t think I have much time,” Diablo looks guilty. He’s still holding her hand and looking at her so earnestly it’s almost worrying. “Harley… don’t go with him.”

“Huh? What do you mean, honey?”

“He’s coming here. Don’t leave with him, Harley, stay. It sounds strange, but this would really be for the best.”

“Don’t leave with whom?” she can’t follow him. He gives her a melancholic look – and suddenly disappears. Without any smoke or flames or any other special effects. She can’t wrap her head around how it happened – it’s just that he was here a moment ago, and now there’s no one beside her, and she’s reaching out towards nothing.

“Diablo?” she calls, and when she gets no answer, she decides to get things straight by asking the guards. What kind of cruel joke is this? Only one person is allowed to joke here, and that person is her. “Hello there! Mister jailer, yoo-hoo! Where’s my friend?”

No one is in a hurry to respond. Finally, one of the armed-to-the-teeth guards approaches the cage.

“Why are you yelling, lady?”

“Where’s my friend?” Harley asks petulantly. “He was here just now, and we didn’t finish talking. Where did you take him?”

“There was no one here.”

“What do you mean ‘no one’? I just talked to him!”

The guard examines her from head to foot. Looks like he’s chewing gum, which, combined with his empty apathetic stare, makes him look like a cow.

“Definitely crazy,” he sums up, and leaves. Irritated, Harley forgets to take caution, hits the bars and falls down on the floor right away, writhing in pain.

“Well, well, well,” she whispers, playing the recent events over in her head. Chato was very much corporeal – not a ghost, then. Yet the guards didn’t notice him, and then he vanished into thin air. Harley thinks about the being Chato transformed into by the end of the battle – an ancient one, as if straight from the walls of some Aztec temple. Could some petty bomb kill such a being? Could the Enchantress’s brother have survived too?

“I am friends with a god,” she informs the ceiling. “Incredible.”

About an hour later, her Puddin’ comes for her, and she forgets the advice Diablo gave her.

Croc sees him on the night of the same day. He knows for sure that it is night thanks to the TV listings – the only reference point for time and days of the week that he has. Not that it was bothering him too much, truth be told. Monday or Sunday, every day in Belle Reve is a carbon copy of the day before. However, Croc doesn’t complain. He has a roof over his head, water, food – even better food than he used to have in the sewers in days gone by – and a TV, and it is honestly not too hard to do without such extras as companionship and fresh experiences. Still, he is glad to see Diablo. Even though first he lunges at him with his fangs bared, because he doesn’t immediately recognize him and supposes that Waller and company are sick of feeding him and decided to kill him. Or to put someone else in his quarters, which would have been no less audacious.

“Croc, it’s me,” Diablo hastens to say, and lights up a flame over his left palm – so unusual and out of place in the dampness of Croc’s cell. Croc freezes and watches the flame for some seconds. That must really be Diablo; there are hardly many people in the world capable of such tricks.

“Hey, man,” Croc says. “Whatcha doing here?”

“Just checking up on you.”

Well, that must definitely be Diablo. Croc knows that there are hardly many people in the world who’d care to check up on him, but that sounds like something El Diablo would do. Back then, during the mission, he was friendly, asked “You okay?” after each skirmish, and could clap him on the shoulder without shuddering. And there are definitely even less people in the world that would touch him willingly.

“Did they just let you in like that?” wonders Croc. Diablo gives him a slight smile.

“They don’t know I’m here.”

“So you’re, like, a ghost?” Croc asks. It occurred to him from the very beginning, but it sounds particularly joyless when said out loud.

Diablo gestures vaguely. “I’m still figuring it out myself, to be honest.”

“Hmm,” Croc glances over his cell. A bag of food on the cot catches his eye. “You want a burger?”

“Nah, I’m good. Save it for yourself.”

“They’ll bring more today, I’m telling ya.”

“Then I want one.”

“Then you’re not a ghost,” grins Croc, and the fact that Diablo doesn’t flinch or try to look away also proves that this is the real Chato Santana, because most people don’t like seeing Croc smile.

And so he and Diablo, who kind of is a ghost but kind of isn’t, sit there eating burgers and watching some crap on MTV. Life has taught Croc not to be surprised by anything, so everything’s fine.

“So what happened after the bomb went off?” Croc asks. Diablo opens his mouth, and then closes it again, apparently at a loss how to explain.

“I was smoke,” he speaks finally. “Then I was flames. Then I became myself again.”

“I see,” Croc replies, although, of course, he can’t see shit.

“Who are you talking to?” comes the guard’s voice from behind the door. “Hey, scum!”

Croc puts the burger aside.

“Wait a bit,” he tells Chato, gets up, and heads for the door.

When he comes to the bean hole, the guard already looks like he regrets calling him.

“No one,” Crock smiles as widely as only he can, and the guard, who isn’t among the people able to watch him smile without blinking an eye, steps back reflexively. “But come inside, and I’ll talk to you if you wanna. How about that?”

When he turns around, Chato has already disappeared, and Croc could have assumed he has dreamed it all, but there are two half-eaten burgers on the cot, not one.

Digger sees him next, and he isn’t even amazed. The bastards keep drugging him with all sorts of shit to calm him down. Usually after the shot he just lies there, feverish, and can’t even move, let alone stand up, but who knows, perhaps they’re testing some new poison on him. Or they’ve started using something stronger because they noticed that a couple of hours after the usual stuff he’s already able to yell, bang at the door, and do everything he can to get the best of them while cooped up inside. Or it’s simply that there’s already so much of this shit in his blood that it’s impossible not to have any screws loose, try as he might to keep them in place. In any case, he’s not exactly shocked when, as he tosses and turns on the floor after another injection, he turns his head and sees El Diablo, large as life and twice as ugly.

“Fuck me sideways,” Digger says. He doesn’t have any energy to be mad yet. “I must be tripping.”

“You’re not tripping,” Diablo objects.

“You died. So I must be.”

“I didn’t die either.”

Diablo sits down cross-legged on the floor next to him.

“Has it crossed your mind that if you stop getting on their nerves, they might start treating you better?” he asks.

“Go to hell.”

“Message received.”

There’s a footfall outside; a whole bunch of people must be running somewhere.

“They’ve turned the entire joint upside down,” says Digger, because it’s been ages since he has spoken to anyone who’d at least pretend to listen, so a hallucination will do. “Blondie escaped.”

“I know,” Diablo replies gloomily. “I tried to warn her not to go with the Joker, but she didn’t listen to me.”

“Why warn her?” Digger asks. Harley Quinn is no bosom friend of his, but she kind of tore out the heart of the witch who kind of tried to end the world, and anyway, teammates probably should take interest in each other’s lives. Probably. He’s never really made sense of that teamwork stuff. “What’s he gonna do to her?”

“At best, what he always does.”

Two tiny figures of fire appear on Diablo’s open palm – a man and a woman. The man backhands the woman across her face, and she falls down. Digger watches the dancing flames with fascination, and meanwhile in his head, bit by bit, stroke by stroke, a plan starts to take shape. He wouldn’t be Captain motherfucking Boomerang if he fails to use any opportunity that turns up – even a ghost of one.

“Listen, mate,” he begins cajolingly. “If you’re really here and it’s not just me tripping… help an old friend out, won’t you? I’m fed up with being stuck here, you know.”

“I’m not gonna help you escape,” Diablo says calmly. “How do you imagine that would even happen?”

“Can’t you just burn the entire Belle Reve to the bloody ground?”

Diablo smiles.

“I can,” he admits. “But I won’t.”

The next thing he knows, the son of a bitch is gone without a trace. Anger and offence must be giving Digger strength, because he manages to leap to his feet. Like a lunatic, he thrashes around the cell, looking for at least some kind of proof that someone else was here a moment ago.

“Oi!” he shouts, knowing damn well that the guards have long stopped listening to what he has to say. “Grab the devil! A convict escaped! Hey, wankers!”

But he’s feeling lightheaded, and this shit must be really strong, and he collapses, badly hitting his head.

Tatsu sees him next – late at night, in her apartment. She’s a light sleeper, and wakes up as soon as she hears footsteps. The sword is close at hand, and she grabs it instantly, blade swishing through the air.

“Who’s there?” Tatsu asks, and then repeats in English. “Who’s there?”

There is nowhere to hide in her bedroom. The only furniture is the mattress and the pair of chairs she uses to hang her clothes on. Everything is on the floor or on the windowsill – weapons, her laptop, the book she tried to read before going to sleep but could not concentrate on. It is an ascetic, comfortless dwelling that does not look permanent and is not supposed to become so. Fate and Amanda Waller, though, seem to have other plans in this respect.

There is nowhere to hide in her bedroom – but someone’s definitely walking in the antechamber; she flings the door open – and sees El Diablo, standing by the entrance and looking around. In a blink of an eye Tatsu is next to him, and the blade of the Soultaker is pressed to his neck.

“Katana, it’s me,” Diablo says, unfazed. “Chato Santana.”

“Chato Santana is dead,” she says through her teeth. Chato Santana was a gangster who killed, albeit by a tragic accident, his own family – but she fought side by side with him, he sacrificed himself to save the world, he called their squad his family and died for them. That is enough for her not to let anyone use his name as a cover. “Who are you?”

“I’m alive,” Diablo replies. He puts his hands up to show he’s unarmed, and forks of flame appear on his palms. “Or sort of.”

Sort of.

Tatsu lowers the sword and looks warily at the man standing in front of her.

“How did you…”

“You’re gonna have a new mission soon. Demand that Waller tells you everything.”

“About what?”

“I couldn’t overhear that,” he says with regret. “But…”

Something knocks on the window. Tatsu turns around quickly, but that must’ve been just a tree branch hitting the windowpane. When she turns back to Chato, he’s already gone, and her apartment is silent.

It’s just four in the morning, but she can’t make herself fall asleep again. Having poured a cup of tea, Tatsu sits down on the mattress and thinks, think, thinks about what just happened. Tatsu believes in ghosts – her sword is teeming with them, so she wouldn’t say that her worldview is shaken. Still, this is strange, very strange. What did he want to tell her? Why did he disappear so abruptly? Like… a broadcast was interrupted.

Colonel Flag calls her at daybreak and tells her that there’s a shoot-out between two gangs on the outskirts of Gotham, with metahumans on both sides. When Tatsu arrives at Belle Reve, it turns out they must have considered it to be not enough to ruin her Saturday morning, because she is asked – more like ordered, actually – to escort an inmate from his cell, an inmate who attacks anyone who tries to enter and has already injured three guards with his bare hands, and it’s not reasonable to sedate him before the mission, and “he’s likely to obey if it’s you, Katana” – the last is Rick’s argument, and if he told that to her face and not on the phone, she would have had to strain every nerve not to hit him with something.

No one tries to attack her when she enters the cell of Captain Boomerang – Harkness is sitting on the floor quite still, his arms around his knees, and when he notices her, he even smiles with bruised lips.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he says. “Am I hallucinating you too?”

“No,” the question is unexpected and confuses her. “Why?”

“Well, they keep injecting me some crap, and lately I’ve been seeing things,” Harkness explains peacefully, even eagerly. His voice is quiet and hoarse, which, combined with his Australian accent, leads to Tatsu being barely able to make out half of what he’s saying. To hear him better, she crouches down next to him, still gripping the sword hilt – there is no telling if he isn’t just making her come closer to take her down and bolt. “Saw the devil yesterday.”

“The devil?”

“Our devil. Día… de fucking Muertos. Chato Santana.”

Tatsu gives a shiver and, having lost her balance, half sits down, half falls on the dirty floor.

She isn’t the only one to have seen him. She isn’t the only one he wanted to send a message to.

“Hey, luv,” Harkness frowns and reaches out to touch her knee lightly. “You all right?”

“Same as you, more or less,” she wants to reply, which of course would mean she isn’t, not at all.

“What did he tell you?” she asks him instead.

When Floyd sees him, he is hardly surprised, since the others have already warned him. Boomerang, Croc, and Katana tell him everything while they’re waiting for the helo, and had it been just Boomerang, who believes inexplicably that he has a sense of humour although he certainly doesn’t, Floyd most likely wouldn’t have believed his ghost stories, but it is even harder to believe that Croc, let alone Katana would agree to take part in such pranks. Which is why he listens to them closely and takes note: okay, then he doesn’t have to worry about his mental heath if the late Santana suddenly appears out of nowhere to give some advice or share some news or simply ask how he’s doing. So the four of them keep whispering to one another like kids at the back of the class until their transport arrives – just the four of them, which is a pity. If there is anyone on the team that he had missed a little, it’s Harley. Floyd knows some things about the Joker, for it isn’t possible, as they write in the papers, to belong to the criminal world of Gotham and not know anything about the Joker. Floyd knows what Flag had spilled to him when visiting him in his cell or escorting him there after a visit to Zoe. Floyd thinks that in his entire lifetime he hasn’t understood a thing about love – is it even possible to understand it, on the other hand? – but he feels like the mad and brilliant Harley, Harley the whimsical, Harley the loving deserves better.

“What’s with the gossiping?” Flag inquires suspiciously.

“Nothing!” Croc and Digger answer in unison, in unison, and Floyd facepalms because seriously, are they in some cheesy movie or what? They don’t tell Flag anything yet, but Floyd is almost sure that sooner or later Santana will visit him as well, because Flag is one of them too, after all. Not that he’s even trying to deny it; no one’s making him drop by Floyd’s cell every other day to chat about some nonsense through the steel door.

So Floyd is hardly surprised when, as he makes his way behind the dumpsters loading one gun after another, he notices a familiar, head-to-toe-tattooed figure standing nearby.

“There are snipers on the roof over there and around the corner of the shop,” Chato says instead of greeting. Floyd nods.

“I noticed.”

“Eight men in the drugstore on the other side of the street. Each with a machine gun.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve just been there.”

“Got it,” there’s no time for lengthy conversations. No time to say: glad you’re alive, man. No time to ascertain: are you alive, though? So he thinks over the plan of action, making a mental note to ask all these questions later, when there are no bullets whistling past their ears.

People like them deserve no guardian angels, frankly speaking, but they may have managed to earn one for all of them.

#suicide squad #el diablo #harley quinn #killer croc #captain boomerang #katana #deadshot #rick flag #dc #talk talk talk #my fic #gella talks skwad #this might have been the most challenging to translate so far #i'm so used to bookish slightly outdated speech and most of my fandoms allow that #and then bam modernity. ugh #also i know nothing about the geography of the dceu!united states. sorry about that.

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afangirlsmenagerie · 3 years

Text

Recovery

A little Eruri drabble inspired by this video and a conversation with @plague-of-insomnia...enjoy! It’s also posted on ao3. ^_^

*~*~*

“Mr. Smith?”

Erwin glanced up from his book toward where the nurse stood by the door.

“Yes?”

“Your husband is in recovery. If you’d like to come with me.”

“Thank you.” he said with a polite smile, ignoring some of the looks of surprise from others in the waiting room as he gathered his and Levi’s things and followed the nurse into the recovery ward.

Some of the tension left Erwin’s shoulders as they passed by rows of closed curtains, behind which other patients waited for their loved ones while they slowly rejoined the land of the conscious. If Levi was here, that meant the surgery had been a success- that he was ok.

Erwin had tried to hide the worry he had about the procedure as best he could. He didn’t want Levi to have to be concerned with comforting him when he was the one going under the knife. But as soon as they had wheeled Levi out of his line of sight, the dam holding back his anxieties had given way and had spent most of his time pacing the waiting room or walking to the small concession room across the hall. It had only been in the past half hour when he saw Levi’s status switch from “in operation” to “post operation” that he had been able to relax enough to continue reading the book he had brought.

“Hey there, Erwin!” a familiar voice called.

Erwin’s face lit with a warm smile upon seeing Hange standing outside one of the recovery rooms, reviewing the charts.

“It’s alright, Petra, Erwin and I go way back.” They said to the petite nurse who had been Erwin’s guide, “So you can leave him with me.”

“Ok.” she nodded, before leaving the two with a professional, “Have a good day, Mr. Smith.”

Erwin returned her niceties in kind, though the brightness from his smile vanished when he turned his attention back to Hange, instantly replaced with the worry and exhaustion he felt safe showing only around his friend.

“So how is he?”

As if to answer his question, a low groan sounded from behind the curtain.

Hange chuckled.

“He’s doing fine. The surgery went beautifully. If you want, you can go in and sit with him while he finishes waking up.”

Erwin pulled back the curtain enough to slip into the small room. Levi stirred where he lay, but didn’t open his eyes when Erwin came to sit in the chair beside the hospital bed.

Once he had gotten situated, the rings of the curtains clinked and Hange stepped inside enough to hand Erwin a bottle of orange juice and a packet of crackers.

“Make sure he eats these when he wakes up.” They whispered, “It’ll help with the nausea.”

He gratefully took the snack with a quiet “Thank you” before Hange disappeared with the promise they would return in a few minutes to check in on things.

Now that they were alone, Erwin turned his full attention to his husband, blue eyes softening as his gaze wandered over the bandages, IV’s, and the ill fitting hospital gown that threatened to slip off Levi’s petite shoulders at any given moment. He couldn’t wait to get him home, where he could properly care for him. Maybe even spoil him if Levi gave him the chance. He’d probably complain the whole time, but his averted gaze and flushed cheeks would betray the hollowness of his objections.

Just then, Levi gave a groggy huff, pulling Erwin from his thoughts. His brows furrowed, heavy eyelids fluttering as they struggled to stay open, and his lips weakly smacked before he managed to hoarsely groan, “So dry.”

Erwin had the lid off the orange juice bottle in an instant, slipping in the small straw Hange had left as well.

“Here.” he soothed, slipping the straw between Levi’s lips, “Drink this.”

Levi’s tongue pressed against the plastic, as if trying to figure out what was in his mouth. Though his eyebrows lifted in recognition a few moments later and he began to drink, swallowing down mouthfuls at a time.

It wasn’t until he had guzzled down half the container that he stopped and rested his head back on the pillow with a contented sigh.

“Better?” Erwin asked with a grin.

Levi nodded slowly and hummed in agreement.

Now that he was starting to show signs that he was getting closer to full consciousness, Erwin quickly split open the cracker’s packaging, the clear plastic crinkling loudly when he pulled one of the crackers out and slipped it into Levi’s open palm.

“Hm?” Levi mumbled, his eyebrows scrunching in question before bringing the cracker a little too close to his face for inspection.

“Do you think you can eat this?”

Erwin bit his lip to keep from laughing when Levi gave another languid nod before taking a bite. His grey eyes remained focused on the curtain at the front of the room and chewed slowly, as if lost in some deep, pensive thought.

He seemed to pull himself from whatever had his mind preoccupied when he popped the second half in his mouth, turning his attention to Erwin, who had been patiently waiting in contented amusement. He had never seen him like this, not even on the few occasions when they’d gotten completely hammered back in college.

The moment his gaze rested on Erwin, however, he halted mid chew, his eyes going wide.

“Who are you?” He asked in wonder.

Erwin chuckled at the bits of cracker that fell from his lips. “What do you-?” He began, but Levi cut him off with another pressing question.

“Did the nurses send you?”

“What? No.” Erwin said, struggling to contain his laughter, handing him another cracker. “Here, this will help you feel better.”

Levi’s gaze never left Erwin as he took a small bite, his mind clearly trying to place how he knew him.

“Damn, you’re hot.” He mumbled, pausing briefly before motioning toward Erwin with the cracker, “Are you sure the nurses didn’t send you?”

Erwin nodded, humor lacing his voice. “I’m sure, Levi.”

“How the hell do you know my name?”

Erwin chucked again.

“I’m your husband.”

As soon as the word “husband” passed his lips, Levi’s eyes went comically wide.

“You’re my husband?” He asked, almost in disbelief and sank back against the mattress, his gaze focusing on the ceiling, whispering, “Holy shit, I’m married to the sexiest man on the planet.”

Erwin laughed softly at the blush that had begun to spread across Levi’s cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

Levi blinked up at the tiled ceiling for a few moments, seemingly to absorb this “new” information, before turning back to him.

“How long?”

“How long, what?”

“How long have we been married?”

Erwin smiled tenderly.

“A long time.”

The corners of Levi’s lips twitched with fondness.

“Do we have any kids?”

“No,” Erwin answered, gently taking Levi’s hand in his own, “We had to get you better first.”

“Oh.”

Levi’s attention drifted down to watch Erwin rub his thumb comfortingly against the side of his hand, falling silent for a couple of minutes.

“So we’re really married?” Was the question that finally broke his silence.

Erwin gave Levi’s hand a squeeze.

“Yes.”

The grey of Levi’s eyes softened like mercury, a rarely seen affection in his gaze before he said, “I must be one lucky fucker to have landed a man like you.”

At that, Erwin brought Levi’s hand up and pressed his lips firmly against the soft flesh, his heart swelling at his words.

“I feel the same.” He whispered, pressing the palm of Levi’s hand against his cheek.

As blue met grey, the first hint of clarity twinkled in Levi’s gaze before he moved to rest his hand on the back of Erwin’s head.

Erwin leaned in, allowing Levi to guide him with his feeble grip. His heart ached as his lips pressed against Levi’s, the heat and plush feel of them so familiar yet new somehow.

“Awww!” A loud cry sounded from behind them, shattering the tender moment.

Both Levi and Erwin jerked away from each other, their attention snapping to the culprit- Hange standing at the foot of Levi’s bed with a cell phone held up in their hands.

“Hange?!” Levi started, “What the hell?”

Hange poked their lip out with a pout, “I couldn’t help it. You two are just too cute!”

Both men’s gazes flitted from the shit-eating grin on their friend’s face to their phone and back several times, Levi’s face settling into a look of panicked horror, while Erwin’s expression was nothing but hopeful.

“Don’t tell me…,” Levi murmured.

“You recorded that, didn’t you?” asked Erwin.

“Yup,” Hange answered, puffing out their chest, “Got the whole thing.”

“Why you!” Levi snarled, “If you don’t delete that right now, I’m going to snap that phone in half as soon as I can walk.”

Erwin placed a staying hand on his husband’s shoulder, rubbing soothing circles to ease the tension that had already begun to coil there.

“Actually, could you send it to me?”

Levi’s attention turned to Erwin, betrayal in his gaze.

“Don’t tell me you’re on their side?”

“Come now, Levi.” Erwin cooed, flashing him a coy smile, “It’s not often that I get treated to this side of you. Think of it as a sentimental keepsake.”

Levi’s gaze narrowed to a scowl, a sharp comeback clearly on his tongue. However, a few moments later, his shoulders slumped and he gave a dejected huff.

“Fine.”

“Well, since I don’t have to fear for my life anymore,” Hange said, stepping over to the other side of the bed to shut off the IV, “Let’s work on getting you checked out.”

As Hange set to disconnecting the monitors and IV, Levi gave Erwin’s hand a firm squeeze.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, the tenderness from a moment ago shining in his eyes once more, an expression that was and would only ever be reserved for Erwin, “Let’s go home.”

#eruri #erwin smith #levi ackerman #eruri drabble #drabble #fanfiction #fluff #eruri fluff

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jaedore · 4 years

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BINDING BONDS | 10

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parings: jung jaehyun x reader

genre: ceo!au, arranged marriage!au, angst, asshole Jaehyun, swearing

[ ☽ smut (suggestive) | ◇ angst (belittling, swearing) ]

note: BB deals with themes of mental and physical abuse, which can be upsetting for some readers. If you feel uncomfortable reading these types of plots, you are advised to not continue. MINORS, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK, but I advise you to skip the sexual parts.

[ 8k words ]

You can feel the Spring breeze settle on your skin, the cooling wind planting goosebumps on your naked back as it brushes the blankets from your body. You reach for Jaehyun and his warmth, but the familiar body isn’t next to yours. Lifting your heavy head, you search for him in the room to only find him leaning against the balcony, overlooking the city below his feet. Putting on one of his t-shirts, you walk to him and put your arm on his back, rubbing circles on it. Jaehyun’s gaze continues to stick to the city. To you, it looks like he didn’t get a lick of sleep, dark eye bags painted his face, restlessness coating his eyes, his face showed no emotion.

“Good morning,” you smile. You comb your fingers through his hair hoping to alleviate whatever weighed his mind, “you okay?”

Jaehyun slightly nods to you, his head falling before he turned to face you, “yeah,” he said, “let’s get going or we’re going to be late.”

With that, Jaehyun turned around to head back to your room. Confusion blurs your mind as you watch his figure pick up the discarded clothes from last night. Why was he acting like this? Usually, he’d still be in bed and holding you in his arms, being all lovey-dovey. Was it something that you did last night that he didn’t like? Were you giving too much? Or too little? Did he just not get enough sleep? Nothing but the latter would answer your question after seeing him rub his face.

“Do you want to go grab breakfast before we go? We have a bit of time,” you glanced at the clock.

“No, actually. I’d like to get home as quickly as possible,” Jaehyun responded, not giving you a glimpse as he shoves clothes into his luggage, his hands tightening in stress as he didn’t bother to fold them but instead bunch them in his fists.

“Okay,” you drag out, “are you busy at work?” You asked. You wanted to know if something came up from work that he suddenly had to attend, but that thought disappeared as Jaehyun peered at you with a sliver of frustration.

“Yes, please. Let’s go home.”

You two board the plane, sitting next to each other not peeping a word. The tension between you two was so heavy that even the plane itself would struggle to cut through it. You sat still in your seat focused on your tablet as you did some work, but you also didn’t speak to him, afraid that you’d set something off. And Jaehyun didn’t say anything to you, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to control himself.

You’re only married to her for business, you think this is all happy and fairytale-like? That everything’s all lovey-dovey just because you’re married upon a contract? No, I bet she doesn’t love you, she probably hates you because of you who are. A dirty, scathing, slug who only clings to the Jung name. Get your head out of your ass. The words his father spat at him echoed in his mind, it was like he etched his own words into Jaehyun’s brain, making sure they’d stick there.

He turned to you, who fell fast asleep, your head hanging over your tablet. Like second nature, Jaehyun gently supported your head until it was up against the headrest, he knows you’d complain about the pain if you stayed in that position. You looked so graceful, harmonious, you are everything he’s ever wanted but he knows he’s far from perfect. Jaehyun knows that you are perfect, that you deserve someone perfect, someone better than him. Who was broken, unfixable, and cold. Last night was the last night you were going to have each other, for he was convinced that there will no longer be a moment to cherish, a moment to be intimate, a moment to love. You were too good for him and he had been too selfish.

When he saw you about to wake, Jaehyun snapped his head back to the window, waiting for the sight of home to desperately reappear and for things to go in the way they were meant to be, just like how it was in the beginning. Maybe it was always supposed to be like that.

Perhaps you were tired and drained, or possibly just sleeping to avoid conversing with Jaehyun. You knew he was still frustrated so you didn’t think it’d be the right time to talk about your trip, you hoped you could reflect on that with him when he’s ready. You genuinely enjoyed every bit of it and you have hope that he did too.

It’s 5 AM when you arrive back home, the dark night sits upon you two like the mood. Not a word has been exchanged since this morning before boarding and the feeling that you did something that wasn’t pleasant to him still lingered in your mind.

“Are you okay?” You asked, your body shifted in the passenger seat towards his.

“I’m perfect.”

“You haven’t talked to me ever since last night.”

“I’m just tired, the time zone has me all messed up,” Jaehyun responds, his voice calm.

Bullshit. You thought. “What happened at work? You said it was because of work that’s got you frustrated.”

“I fixed it on the plane. We just had to seal a hard deal, but everything should be fine now.” he keeps his gaze on the road, but you saw the way his fist tightened against the steering wheel like he was trying to refrain himself from saying something.

You reached for his free hand that rested on the console, “you know you can tell me anything,” you caressed it.

“I don’t want to talk about y/n, I had a hard day today.” He responds in a calm tone, but it’s enough to slightly set you off in a bad mood because you were just trying to be considerate.

You don’t bother to respond, so you pay no mind to him the entire ride back home. You two are quiet in your seats again, letting the hum of the car above the pavement take over the silence.

The sun begins to rise as you two safely arrive home, ready to sleep through the day hopefully to prepare yourselves for the following weekday. You two are quick to shower and change and settle for bed. You wait up for Jaehyun as he finishes doing his nightly routine, gazing at his reflection in the mirror of the bathroom you try to read his expression as to what is really wrong with him. Jaehyun wasn’t acting normal to you, but maybe he was telling the truth, that it is the jetlag and he’s just had a really hard day.

Jaehyun glances at your posture, reading how your arms are crossed and your forehead is creased, it definitely lets him know that you want to talk, but your features soften when you catch him glancing at you. Your arms fall to your sides and you turn away from him, covering yourself under the sheets as you let out a disappointed sigh. In the flash of a second, he knows that you’re disappointed. Were you disappointed in yourself? Or in the tension between you two and his lack of care to communicate to you?

Quietly, Jaehyun crawls beside you, mimicking your actions, his back facing you like there was a wall between and no one dared to knock it down, for who knows what chaos it would bring.

The next couple of mornings brought coldness to your body. Every morning when you woke up, he was already gone and out the door, not a text was sent, not a note was posted. Nothing. Like he just vanished in thin air until he appeared with the moon when you were deep asleep.

You went to bed every night alone, too tired to wait up for him. You tried to talk to him, but it’d always just result in him brushing you off like the dust on the picture of you two in Paris you gifted him. Even if you did talk to him, it was short and general. When you tried to ask him what was wrong, you’d apparently press the wrong buttons and an argument would ensue.

One night you grew out of his silent treatment. As soon as he stepped through your shared apartment, the time had already reached midnight. Jaehyun walked in, surprised to see you sitting on the couch with a glass of wine in your hands as you gazed at the lights that protruded through the night sky. The image of you before him made him long for you. He knew you were upset, he could tell in the glint of your eyes when your head turned to the sound of his steps.

“I didn’t think you’d still be up.”

“I wanted to see you for once,” you respond.

“Look,” Jaehyun breathes, “it’s been busy at work.”

“I can imagine-” you scoff, “-but do you think I haven’t been busy either? I still try to make time for us, but every time I do, it’s like you don’t want it.”

“That’s not true. You know that.”

“But do I Jaehyun? You’ve been ignoring me for days! Every moment I talk to you, we always get on each other’s nerves and end up arguing. I haven’t even held you since we came back home. Please, please just tell me what’s going on.” You plead at the man in front of you, whose expression hasn't changed. You’re convinced that Jaehyun has turned off every emotion in his body, you’ve seen the cold, expressionless look too many times to count.

“It’s just a bad time right now at work,” Jaehyun defends.

“Yeah, I get it, everything is because of work. I got it,” you sigh, clearly too tired of the same answer over and over again. Perhaps it was a sign for you to stop.

You stand from the couch, legs stiff from sitting so much, and you walk up to your room. Jaehyun doesn’t call after you. You even turn around to see him still sitting in the same position, his body facing where you once were. You wanted him to say your name, to run to you and envelop you, telling what was truly wrong. When the silence reached your ears, with sad eyes you left him in the living room until he was ready to come to bed.

You don’t know when Jaehyun came, but when you felt the mattress dip behind you, you had a sudden urge to turn around and hold him in your arms, but when you turned around, you saw the well-known image of his back facing you. It took all of you to stop when you found yourself shifting your body towards him. You wrapped your arms around his large frame, sniffing the back of his shirt, inhaling the scent you missed every time you held each other. Leaning your head on his sturdy back, you heard his steady heartbeat. How peaceful it sounded.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but please, let me know. I’m here for you, Jae. Please, please talk to me. I just miss you, I love you. I don’t know what happened that made us like this but please,” you beg, clutching onto him tightly as you prevent yourself from crying. You held him as tight as you could, afraid that if you loosen your hold, he’d slip right through your fingers like sand.

Little did you know, Jaehyun heard you, he heard your sniffles and your broken voice. He knows you’re hurt because of him, but he also knows that this is for the better. It’s far better than if he were to completely give himself to you and let you do the same. So answering with silence, Jaehyun shifted away from your hold, leaving you alone and cold for the night.

When he moved away from your body, you felt your heart clench. Your chest heaved and quiet tears streamed down your face as the cold air hit your chest. His silence and action threw answers that confirmed you were his problem. With a small part chipping from your heart, you turned your back to him, a regular body position you grew accustomed to. Minutes onto your side, you quietly turn back to check if Jaehyun was sleeping. His soft snores and long breaths proved your thoughts and with silent steps, you left.

You weren’t as silent as you thought, though. Jaehyun felt you leave, he heard you collect your things, shut the door, and exit the apartment. A big part of him wanted to sprint to you, but the other restrained him, bound him to the bed like the stars to the sky.

Exiting the parking garage, you drove off into the night. You had no idea where to go at this time of the night, but the only person you wanted to see right now was your best friend. You took out your phone and dialed Haewon’s number, clinging to the hope that she’d pick up at 2 AM.

After a couple of rings, the familiar voice rang through the line, “y/n? Why are you calling this late? Are you okay?” the grogginess could be heard in her voice and at once you felt bad for waking her up at such an inconvenient time.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. Can I sleep at your place tonight?”

“Of course. Text me when you’re here.”

Haewon kindly offered you the other side of her bed, since it was big enough for you two and possibly even somebody else. The soft duvet fell over your figure as you wrapped yourself in the nostalgic blankets, remembering the feeling from when you were young and would always have sleepovers with her. What the old times brought.

As always, Haewon was kind in letting you lay in peace before speaking. You were a composed person always with organized thoughts, but how come the expression across your face contradicts that?

“We’re fighting again.”

Haewon’s head shoots to you with wide eyes, your face still facing the ceiling, “are you serious?”

You nod to her answer, not knowing what other information to provide to her that won’t make you break down in tears. You were always horrible at holding your emotions in for such a long time that the tears brimmed and streamed down the corners of your eyes, wetting the side of your face.

“Oh, honey,” Haewon coos you as she wraps her arms around you, giving you the warmth of her hug and the comfort in her touch as she rubs circles on your back, letting you cry out everything you’ve shoved down.

“Paris was fine, it was fun, and I thought things were going great between us. But the morning we had to leave, it’s like he shut off all of his emotions. He won’t even speak to me and every time he does, it’s short-lived,” you briefly explain as your breath is still stable.

“Do you guys argue a lot?”

You glanced at her, “yes, but it isn’t as bad as before. It’s not what you think, but whenever something small happens, he just bursts at me.” Even through complications, you still find yourself defending Jaehyun.

“Arguing is still arguing y/n,” she breathed, “I can’t believe he’s still doing this to you. Have you talked about it to him?”

You shook your head, “Every time I try to, he always disregards it or says it’s because of work.”

“Bullshit,” it’s like Haewon read your mind, but only said them aloud.

“I-I don’t know what to do Haewon,” you stuttered as your arms fell to your side.

“Maybe something happened at home?” her voice rose in suspicion. No, she didn’t know about Jaehyun’s father, but there were always circulating rumors.

You inhaled a sharp breath, yourself beginning to calm down from your high of crying, “maybe. I don’t know, I’m done trying to talk to him for now.”

Haewon embraced you in her arms, “come,” she lowered your body to the bed, “let’s get some rest.”

As you lay alone in the silence, with Haewon fast asleep, you couldn’t help but think that maybe the reason why Jaehyun’s been worked up is because of his father. Maybe something really bad happened between them and Jaehyun didn’t want to tell you. Were you two really lovers if he couldn’t communicate with you? But again, it is something very private to him. Your heart began to play games while your mind made sure to keep your thoughts linear, but your heart won the match and by the time the sun rose, you hadn’t gotten the slightest bit of sleep. You woke up before Haewon did, texting her your thankfulness before driving back to your apartment.

Jaehyun also couldn’t sleep. Without you by his side, how was he supposed to? Even if he was the one to push you away for the better, he knows his heart only belongs to you now. His large body took over your space and his limbs stretched to all corners of the bed hoping that he could build the same amount of warmth your body did when it was here.

Carefully, you cracked the door open to your shared bedroom, Jaehyun laid on his back, conceiving all the space on the bed. The fall and rise of his chest made your heart waver because you just wanted to jump in bed, to feel him, and to smell that homey scent he always carried. How peaceful things were before...where and why did it go so wrong?

“You’re here,” Jaehyun rose from his bed, snapping you from your trance, “where’d you go?”

You shifted your gaze from him, “yeah, I spent the night at Haewon’s,” you grabbed your clothes that hung in the closet, not giving Jaehyun any attention and getting yourself ready for the day. You heard a small “oh” coming from him as he left for the bathroom. You let out a long sigh that neglected to relieve any tension your shoulders held.

You swung your blazer around your shoulders as you sat down on the edge of the bed, after finishing making it. Just in time, Jaehyun came out of the bathroom. Hair wet, towel around his waist, robust body, what a sight that captivated your eyes. The last time you saw him this revealing was your last night in Paris and that was a while ago, everything has changed after that. He was so tender, soft, and kind, the longing feeling weighed on your chest as your eyes followed his naked figure into the closet.

“Jae,”

“Hm?”

“Can we talk?” you asked.

“What about?”

“Why have you been avoiding me? Is it because of your father? Are you having nightmares again?” Your gaze fell upon your fumbling fingers before Jaehyun could snap his head at you.

He hesitated, “no.” lies. Part of it was, but most of it was because of his own self. Jaehyun couldn’t risk ruining your successful life with his dark, corrupt one. You were the most perfect person he’s met, even with imperfections and flaws, he saw you as an angel. He saw himself as the dust that was even lucky enough to brush past your beautiful face.

“Then what’s the matter? Why haven’t you been talking to me, Jaehyun? Everything’s changed since we got back from Paris.” You stood from the bed in your poor attempts to get closer to him.

Jaehyun let out a loud sigh, clearly letting you know he didn’t want to talk about this, “can we just talk about this after work? I don’t want to start the day like this.”

Again. Again and again. How many more times will he brush this conversation? How many more times will he brush you off? You felt hopeless like you were drowning and Jaehyun was in the boat above you watching you be engulfed by the water, yet refusing to give you the anchor.

“This is pointless,” you mumble. You quickly collected your things and left after making sure to slam the door behind you.

Jaehyun watched you leave, it hurt him every time you did because he didn’t know if you’d come back. Every time he made you leave, you were angry and the night would just end up being filled with slammed doors and cold nights, whether you were present or not. He stared at the bedroom door for what felt like hours, wishing that you’d come back and want to talk about it and fix things. But what was he expecting when he was constantly pushing you away at every chance that was given to him?

The day didn’t go by any faster, any moment you had to yourself, your mind was occupied with Jaehyun. Like he made a home there and didn’t plan on leaving. You found it hard to not overthink everything. From the home-cooked meals to the sex, you couldn’t find anything wrong that you did. Maybe he didn’t enjoy the sex? Am I too controlling? What if I’m not giving him enough? Or Any? What if that’s it??

You sat in your seat, completely disregarding the presentation. Who cares about rubber shoes? Audace is a chic, luxury fashion brand, we don’t do rubber. You were so occupied in your thoughts that with abruptness, you stood from your chair and left the meeting without a word. You carried your portfolio and bag out the door with you, not bothering to stop at your office.

At Jung Corporations, Jaehyun had just finished a meeting while his father was at another meeting outside of the building. He thanked the gods for their grace in giving him his own office, he wouldn’t be able to last a minute in the same room with his father. Looking over the notes on his tablet, his mind wandered to you again. Like your mind, you lived in his. Jaehyun always pondered if you’ve eaten, if you were taking plenty of mental breaks, and giving yourself the kindness your heart needed. Especially when he was treating you like this, he was sure to tell himself that this is for the best. He knows deep down in his heart that you deserve someone who can love you better than he can. Someone who can not only give you the utmost, fulfilling love, but also life.

Like his whispered wishes, you barged through his doors. Jaehyun stood from his seat as he watched you saunter up to his desk with determination and anger in your eyes. There was no greeting, no hello, no warning, but just you pressing your lips against his. Oh, how much he’s missed the feeling, the warming pleasure from your lips, and how they executed tenderness. Like his body was running on his own, his arms made their way home on your waist, pulling you into his embrace. You gently tugged on the hair that laid on Jaehyun’s nape as he lured you to his body, before picking your legs and brushing papers from his desk to clear a space for you.

You weren’t even thinking clearly, you were only driven by your emotions, but you missed him so much that even this kiss was everything. It’s everything that you ever wanted and you were ready to surrender and give all of your morals to him.

Wrapping your legs around Jaehyun’s hips, he made his fingers busy by unbuttoning your top that laid beneath your blazer, later tearing it from you. Jaehyun’s fingertips set your skin aflame, every follicle of hair, skin he touched was burning and aching for more.

“Please, please,” you whined when Jaehyun’s kisses trailed to your neck, giving your sweet spot attention.

Regrettably, those words snapped Jaehyun from his muse. This is wrong, he thought as he immediately pulled away from you. You stared at him with your mouth slightly open, ready to say something, but he beat you to it.

“This is wrong,” Jaehyun choked out.

“I thought that this is what you wanted,” you whispered.

He scoffed in disbelief, “are you being serious right now, y/n? Do you even hear yourself? Thinking that I only want you for your body?”

“Well, it seems like it is because this worked,” you shot back, jumping from the desk.

“You think that I’m in this for the sex?” Jaehyun questioned you, as you collected yourself again.

It was your turn to scoff, “I’d like to think that because you haven’t spoken to me at all.”

“We just talked this morning!” Jaehyun retorted.

“Not like that. I mean like, actually talking about things other than your day, your work. I’m tired of it, I just want to talk about the things you enjoy, the things you want to do with me in the future.” You explained, sliding your blazer back on your cold body.

“Well, I’m sorry that I can’t talk about you for a couple of days.”

“That’s not what I meant! Oh my gosh Jaehyun, you are so oblivious.” You grabbed your things and left.

You sat in your car, your head falling in your palms. What has gotten into you? This is not you, you never act so rashly like his. You’ve changed and right now you’re beginning to think it was for the worse. Tears threatened to brim at your eyes, but you pressed your palm against them hoping that they’d stay in because you still had half a day of work left.

“Where have you been? You left so suddenly at the meeting,” your mother asked.

“I just needed to take care of something.” You lied.

“Is it because of Jaehyun? Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine, we just had to figure some things out. Don’t worry about it mother,” you lied, again. How many more times were you going to lie to your own mother? Lie that you were okay and that you weren’t hurt, heartbroken?

“Okay,” she sighed in defeat, you were indeed stubborn, “well if you’re not busy, go check how the Designing Department is doing, and then you can head home. You don’t look too good.”

“Yes, mother,” you nodded and headed to the lower level.

You stood in the elevator, waiting for it to get to the designated floor. Your mind replayed your little stunt. You still hated yourself for making your way to Jung Corporations, just how desperate are you y/n?

Ding!

You stride towards the prototyping of the outfits, double-checking that everything was right. Making sure that each outfit was according to the style of Audace. You were already in preparation for Paris Fashion Week, you can’t let a small bead even be misplaced. Every stitching had to have the exact, appointed color; every fabric must be to scale and cut sharply, no loose threads. There’s no space for mistakes anymore.

“How is this going, Chaeyoung?” Your eyes narrowed to speculate the embroidery of a jacket.

“Perfect, we’re almost done. All we have to do is to sew in the beads in the embroidery.” Her head nodded to the jacket as her hands were occupied with another mannequin’s outfit.

“I’m pleased to hear.”

“Um, Miss y/n?” Chaeyoung’s voice called, but her tone was informal like she was talking to you as a friend.

You turn towards her, humming for her call.

“Are you okay? If I’m being honest, you don’t look the best,” she worriedly states.

You blink a couple of times, even your mother said that you didn't look too good. Just how bad did you actually look? Last time you saw your reflection, you thought you looked decent, healthy at least. You nodded to Chaeyoung, “I’m fine, thank you. I’m actually heading home right now, so I’ll make sure to get plenty of rest.”

“Oh...okay. I hope everything is okay.”

Before leaving, you smiled at her consideration. It was interesting how everything ended up this way, especially between you two. You’d think that she’d have bad blood for you, but her kindness always made you reconsider that. In another world, you hoped that you two were genuine, friends.

You arrived home before Jaehyun, setting your things down at your feet, your body couldn’t even grasp energy to change. As soon as you closed the door, you grabbed a glass of water and sat on the couch waiting for Jaehyun to come home.

The sky that was painted in streaks of red and orange, transfigured into dark hues, letting the moon take care of the people for the night. You found your mind reminiscing about your past and the fun trip to Paris. Everything was fun as long as it lasted, you somehow knew things were going to get worse before they got better, you just didn’t think it’d be this bad and come so soon.

The familiar click of the door perked your head towards Jaehyun who looked like he had a stressful day. Maybe it was because of you, but you were silently praying that you were wrong.

“Hey,” he greeted, untying his shoes.

“Hi,” you shifted in your seat, waiting for him to come your way.

Feeling the dip on the sofa, you two sat in silence, letting the absence of sound drape over the apartment. Only the sounds of the beating of each other’s heart could be heard among the hum of the city and the heat that flowed into your apartment. The flickering lights of the city reflected against your tall windows as you let yourself speak first.

“What happened between us?”

Jaehyun shook his head, “I don’t know.”

“You’ve been avoiding me every second you have and when you do have a second, you’re arguing with me. Clearly-” you emphasized, “-I did something.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Then what is it? Is it your father?” your head turns to him, brows creased in concern. Jaehyun gave you no answer and you sensed that you were right, his father was the core of all this. “Jaehyun, it’s okay. I can help you.” you reached for his hand only to have him yank it away from you.

“Don’t you understand? You can’t help me.” Jaehyun stood from the couch, walking to the kitchen. Frustration coated his words and it began to dig into your skin. You didn’t want to pry too much or press his buttons again, you just wanted to help.

“Then tell me how. We can do this together,” your strides attempted to reach his figure, “I can find a way.”

Jaehyun’s body rapidly turns to you, immediately making you stop in your tracks. Especially when you see red, anger in his eyes, “no, you can’t. Unfortunately, you can’t help me at all.”

You shook your head in disbelief, “No, Jaehyun. We can find someone professional who can help.”

“You don’t understand and you never will y/n!” He shouted. Your body slightly jumps from the reverberate of his voice, it’s been so long since he’s yelled at you like that and this time, it stings your skin like salt on your past wounds. “You will never understand because this-” he points to his chest, the one over his heart, “-is who I am.”

“No it’s not, this isn’t you Jaehyun.” you walk towards him, but Jaehyun only steps back away from you.

“Yes, it is, y/n. This is who I am. I have been like this until you changed me for the worse. I cannot be fixed. I cannot be helped! I am like this!! This is who I am!!” Jaehyun repeats it several times until it’s ingrained in your mind. His shouting shoots at the wall vibrating his voice into your ears and it doesn’t sit well into your stomach.

“You’re angry. I get it, let’s just breathe, okay?” You offer your palms to him, understanding that he could just be stressed. You’re ultimately wrong when he aggressively slides all of the papers and decorations off the kitchen table, letting the plants and papers crumble to the floor.

“Don’t tell me to breathe y/n! I have held it in for so long, that I can’t do this anymore!” His chest rises from his hard pants.

You stay quiet, anxious to ask him what flashed through your head in red blinking lights, “do what?” your voice is barely above a whisper, but Jaehyun hears it break.

“This. I can’t do this marriage,” Jaehyun replies in the same tone.

“When?”

He looks at you with furrowed brows, “When what?”

“Since when did you know you couldn’t do this?” tears begin to brim at your eyes, but couldn’t find care in the world to hold them back. Not after what you’ve been through, what he put you through.

Jaehyun’s face becomes expressionless, “I don’t know.”

“Don’t hit me with that bullshit, Jaehyun,” you scoffed, “since when did you fucking know?”

“Our last night in Paris.”

A loud sigh escapes your lips as tears stream down your face, wetting your cheeks, barely holding onto your jaw. “Then did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” Jaehyun asks. His meaningless questions burrow themselves under your skin, how oblivious could he be?

“When you said you love me you asshole!” this time it’s your time to shout, but it’s more of a cry for help. You’re begging for him to give you the answer you want, but the world never liked playing on your side.

It was like time had slowed down. You only stood a few feet from Jaehyun but it felt like miles. So far, yet so close. He stood in front of you hesitating his answer, debating if he could give you the truth or if it was better to rip off the bandaid and put a new one on it.

“No.”

You’re hysterical at this point, your cries turn into scoffs of breaths, which turns into laughter. They’re quick to rebound into loud cries when you feel your legs becoming weak. Instead of falling to the floor, you force yourself to stomp to your bedroom.

Jaehyun’s eyes follow you, wondering what you could be doing. His answer quickly comes to him when you leave the room with your large duffle bag in your hand, full and zipped.

“Where are you going at this time?” Jaehyun asks, surprised he even found the courage in him to ask.

“Out. I’m done Jaehyun.” You slam the door shut behind, leaving Jaehyun in the empty, cold apartment.

You ended up going back home, finding yourself in a spot where you had to explain to your mother.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” you cried in your mother’s arms.

“It’s okay, it’s okay to cry” she stroked your hair as she held you in her arms, “it’s okay to hurt. It’s okay to feel what you need to feel.”

Since your father was overseas, you slept with your mother, you couldn’t stand not being alone at this time. Being in your mother's arms reminded you of when you were little and you couldn’t sleep without her by your side, it makes you miss how easy life was. How happy you were without a worry.

It’s been days since you’ve texted or called Jaehyun, he hasn’t bothered to reach out to you either. Every night for you was filled with tear-stained pillows and the unnerving feeling of calling Jaehyun, but you never reached across your bed for your phone. You two were good at being stubborn in ignoring each other, it makes you wonder if this was now the end.

However, Jaehyun wasn’t handling the situation well. Every morning brought him agony that it wasn’t a nightmare, that this was real and you were truly gone. He stayed away from drinking, the clubs, and only locked himself in the master bedroom, away from the world. Jaehyun often looked out the window, looking below at the city. Knowing that the road leads up to the apartment building, he always watched out for your car, but he only saw it in his dreams. Jaehyun waited and waited for you to come back. Again, what is he expecting? He’s done his deed in pushing you away in the worst way possible, how much more did he want from you? Why was he now asking for you to come back into his arms when all you’ve been is forgiving and loving to him? And he was the one to ruin all of it? The one to just throw it away like it meant absolutely nothing to him when it really meant the world. It’s fucked up, it really is.

Jaehyun thought about you every day. You live in his mind, you go to work with him, you’re in the car with him, you go to bed with him. He pretends you’re there in spirit, but he knows you’re physically gone. Insane, that is what he is.

“Come on, it’s been days! You have to come out,” Taeyong speaks through Jaehyun’s phone.

Jaehyun sighs, “not tonight Yong.”

“You’ve been saying that every time I call you. You never come out anymore, is it because of y/n? Are you finally getting tied down?” Taeyong only says it to joke around, but little did he know, it had a great effect on Jaehyun.

“Can you just shut the fuck up man? Jeez,” Jaehyun hangs up on Taeyong, clearly angry. He’s not though, he’s been constantly hurting, but Taeyong finds out the second he’s hung up on.

That’s why in the next ten minutes, there’s a hard knock at the door, forcing Jaehyun to drag his body to the door.

“What?” Jaehyun deadpans at his best friend who wore a smile on his face, which shortly falters after noticing the darkest bags under a pair of eyes.

“What happened to you?” Taeyong walks past Jaehyun, welcoming himself into the apartment. He looks around, for never being in here, he considers it as a luxury apartment, but something was missing. It felt cold and empty in here. “Y/n here?”

When he doesn’t get an answer, he turns to see Jaehyun silently crying, his head hanging in his palms. His shoulders shake from his cries as Taeyong embraces his best friend. Taeyong is completely lost, not knowing what was going on, but the only thing he knew was that he needed to be there for Jaehyun.

“She’s gone,” Jaehyun sniffles.

Taeyong pulls away to hear it again, hoping that the words Jaehyun expressed were false. Each time they’d meet up Jaehyun would never shut up about you, in the beginning, he’d grumble about the little things that you did that irked him, but as time went on, he found the little things to be the most precious. Taeyong found Jaehyun as a new jubilant person, he’d always look forward to things, he’d smile more at others, there was an unbeknownst glow that you brought to Jaehyun’s heart.

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Taeyong’s brows creased.

“She hasn’t been home for days Taeyong. She’s fucking gone!!” Jaehyun shouted at his friend, bloodshot, red, painted within his eyes.

Days turned into weeks, which turned into a month. Yes, you kept count. It’s been almost a month without a sound from Jaehyun. You despised yourself for always checking your phone, thinking that the ding you heard was a text from him or a ring was a call from him. Your hopes failed you when you were faced with the ghost presence of him. A huge part of your heart wanted to forgive and go back into his arms, but another wanted to completely disappear from his world. You wanted to erase yourself from his story. You knew you couldn’t go back after he admitted that he couldn’t find it in himself to marry you or the fact that he didn’t mean a single action or word when you two were in Paris.

Lies everything was a complete lie. You slam your portfolio shut as you gather your things into your bag. You informed your mother that you’d be home later, you had to go back to the apartment to collect your belongings. All of them.

As you drive down the old road, little memories of you and Jaehyun lingered in your mind. The late, late ice cream runs, the drives to watch the sunset or sunrise at the pier, the little bits of laughter echoed through your ears, and the cold walks among the beach where you’d walk close to him. You two built many sandcastles that were washed away too soon by the harsh waves.

The familiar, tall, silver building came into view too quickly. You parked your car into the parking garage and walked up to your room, your feet remembering every single step so well that you could’ve gone up safely with your eyes closed. You softly knock on the door, fully knowing that Jaehyun was home. After Taeyong visited Jaehyun, he called you that day, and several days after that, begging you to visit him for Jaehyun had been isolating himself and was completely miserable.

The door swung open, letting a brisk wind blow past you, the nostalgic smell of your apartment softly hitting your nostrils. How much you’ve missed this.

“Y/n.”

“Hey,” your eyes scanned the man in front of you. Disheveled hair, dark eye bags, swollen eyes, and he looked like he’d been lacking in cooking for himself. Taeyong was right, he was completely miserable. But as much as your heart longed to forgive him, you couldn’t find it in yourself to give him that kind of benefit again.

“Come in,” Jaehyun opens the door wider for you to come in. Nothing about the place has changed. You’re surprised by such a messy image of him, the place is well kept.

“I’m just here to collect my remaining belongings,” you reply, already making your way up to your once shared bedroom before hearing a quiet “oh” from him.

The room resembled your heart, it was chaotic. The bed wasn’t made, the curtains were halfway drawn, drawers were slightly opened by his inability to shove his clothes fully in, the laundry basket was overflowing and spilling of clothes, letting it scatter amongst the carpet.

“Jaehyun,” you silently whisper at the state the room was in. You weren’t mad, you were just disheartened that Jaehyun had been this frustrated that he couldn’t even take care of himself.

“I’m sorry,” he shoved past you, “I didn’t know you were coming,” he tripped over his feet by trying to pick up his dispersed clothing from the floor.

“Jaehyun,” you choked out at the poor man who sat on the floor, scrambling on his knees unable to get back up, and you couldn’t resist it any longer. He looked so frail, like a broken vase that had just been recently glued. You rushed to him and held him close to your chest, letting out a choked cry and tears streaming down your face.

Along with your cries, Jaehyun’s was also heard. He clutched onto your arm that settled around him, afraid that if he’d let go he’d lose you forever. Heavy sobs left Jaehyun’s chest as his tears stained your shirt, were you here to stay with him?

Jaehyun pulled away from your embrace, he caressed your cheek as he brushed a tear from your eye, “please stay. Stay the night before we both decide we’re over.” He didn’t let you give him an answer because he knew you’d stay. Picking you up into his arms, he carried your frail body to the bed as you attempted to calm your breathing down. Jaehyun was careful in changing you out of your clothes and into a shirt of his, for that was the only thing that was left now.

Nonetheless, you let him carry you, change you, you let yourself stay because you knew that this was going to be the last night you’d see him. It was a horrible thing, but you prayed for only one more night with him.

Jaehyun’s body came flush to yours, letting his arms wrap around your waist to bring you impossibly closer. He looks at you with eyes full of love but also drowned in sadness. He knows you’re not here forever. Without hesitation, Jaehyun pressed his lips against yours, the very distant memory of his lips sliced through your mind making you yearn for him. It’s only been a month, but it felt like years since you’ve felt those pink, plump, soft lips of his. Like always, it interlocked with yours like the key to a lock, like the last piece of a puzzle, like the calming of a river. There was no stripping of clothes, no coitus, just the two of you locking your lips together, feeling nothing but the actions of your mouths molding together. Jaehyun’s hands wandered your body, his mind needed to memorize the landscape of your body just in case you’d leave forever. But soon, they found a home in your hair and on your waist, while you found your place on his back and nape, occasionally tugging his strands.

It continued for a while until your jaw grew tired, your mind was worn and you were emotionally and mentally drained. As much as you didn’t want to, you pulled away. Jaehyun’s head softly fell on your chest, hearing the steadiness of your heart before he closed his eyes.

“Thank you,” Jaehyun whispered before drifting off.

When Jaehyun woke up the next morning, you were gone. The cold, wrinkled bed sheet telling him that you left hours ago without a sound. From the corner of his eyes, a glint coming from your side’s drawer glared his vision from the sun. It was your ring and a key on top of a handwritten letter from you. Jaehyun firmly rubbed his eyes, hoping that he was seeing things, but it was too good to be true.

Dear Jaehyun,

We’ve spent these past few months in hate, lust, and love. We have so many lovely memories that I’ll cherish forever in my heart. From the drunken laughs to the pillow talks, I’ve enjoyed each moment with you, don’t you doubt it.

I wanted to thank you for the things you’ve taught me. You have given me the patience that I didn’t know I needed, you taught me how to forgive, and you’ve helped me acknowledge that it’s acceptable to stand up for what you believe in. Along with that, you taught me that people can change. I want you to understand that I was nowhere near trying to change you or fix you. You are not broken, you have the infinite ability for self-growth. I wanted to be there for you, I wanted to help you, trust me I really did. But I cannot be with you until you love yourself. I cannot see you love me more than you love yourself.

Don’t lie and tell me you haven’t meant anything you’ve said or done up until now. I know your heart, I know there’s love in there for me, your actions were always better than your words. You were never good at lying, your ears gave it away, but even so, your words found its way to my wounds and like salt, I gave it to you to pour on me.

We were always good at ignoring each other and running away from our problems. To this day, I will forever wish that I woke up next to you, but I can’t do this anymore. If you don’t want this marriage, and you mean it, please forgive me for giving you every access to my heart. I wish that I hadn’t settled into the feeling of being someone you loved.

My last wish is for you to find love for yourself. You are worthy, you are worthy of love and to be loved. You were never broken, you just had some cracked areas and I hope that you can go back and paint those areas with gold. You are a strong man, you’re capable of love, always remind yourself that.

By the time you get this, I’ll be out and probably somewhere lost among the crowd. Please don’t look for me anymore. I need time and I need to make peace with my heart. This key and this ring is my returned gift to you. I hope you can give them to someone strong enough to teach you what I couldn’t.

And perhaps if fate allows, we will meet again when we are older and wiser, but for now, goodbye Jaehyun.

With all my love,

y/n.

#jaehyun imagines #jaehyun angst #jaehyun smut #jaehyun series #jaehyun au #jaehyun #nct 127 imagines #jaehyun scenarios #nct jaehyun #jung jaehyun #nct au #nct imagines

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sherrybaby14 · 4 years

Text

Moral of the Story

Summary: Steve’s girl likes to party all the time and he’s at his wit’s end. Then he meets you.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x female reader.

Warnings: Alcohol, Smut, ANGST

Words: 5k

A/N: This is for the wonderful @captain-rogers-beard challenge. Congrats Doll! My prompt was “Party all the Time” by Eddie Murphy.

The music was a bit louder than you would have liked, but at least the song was catchy. You sipped on your drink as you watched the dance floor, your friend’s waving you over.

With a smirk you shook your head and lifted your drink, far too sober to dance.

“I think they want you to join them?” A voice boomed in your ear.

You did a jump as you turned to see a gorgeous blonde next to you.

“I don’t want to spill my drink.” You ran your hands down your now wet dress.

“Oh Jeez, I’m so sorry ma’am.” He reached for some cocktail napkins. “Let me buy you another.”

“It’s okay.” You began to pat your dress dry. “It’s probably better on my clothes than down my throat. I don’t drink often.”

“Me either.” He gave a warm smile.

“Then why are you in a nightclub?” You turned to the bar, trying to block out the loud music and not have to yell so much. “Here to pick up women?”

“A friend invited me.” His gaze went to the dance floor.

You followed it and saw he was looking at a dark haired man. You couldn’t see his face because it was being covered by a gorgeous brunette. She pulled away and you blinked a few times, she had to be a model, a perfect ten.

“I think your friend is going to get lucky.” You turned back to see his jaw clench up.

“Yeah, it looks like it.” He looked away, there was a pain in his eyes. “If I can’t buy you a new drink how about a cup of coffee?”

“Oh, I don’t think they sell coffee here.” You shrugged.

He erupted in laughter and you glanced around, not noticing the punch line.

“There’s a diner a block away.” He leaned against the bar. “Open twenty four hours. I know I’m a stranger, but I could get out of here and by the looks of it so could you.”

“I’m game.” You put your glass on the bar and started walking to the door.

“I’m Steve by the way.” He held out his hand.

“I know who you are.” You smiled. “I think the whole world knows who you are.”

A confused look spread across his face. The brisk nighttime air made your arm get some goosebumps, but you let out a sigh of relief when the music died down.

“That’s not the reaction I get from most people who know who I am.” Steve grabbed his chin. “Maybe I should grow a beard again.”

“Would you rather I asked for an autograph and a selfie?” You raised an eyebrow, then put the back of your hand to your forehead. “Oh Captain my Captain?”

“Alright, I get it.” Steve laughed. “So what’s your story? I guess your the one whose the stranger here.”

“It’s not like I know everything about you, just the headlines.” You winked. “Workaholic, I love my job, it keeps me busy. In my free time I do the basics, read, watch movies, attempt and fail at the newest workout craze.”

“Pilates man.” Steve pulled the diner door open. “It’s a lot harder than it looks.”

“I fall in every yoga position.” You followed Steve as he slid into a booth. “Zumba was fun, but I’m lacking in rhythm.”

“You?” Steve’s eyes went wide. “You look like you would be a great dancer.”

“I’m great at a lot of things.” You flipped over your mug. “But bad at more.”

“I’m really bad at board games. I flipped the board last time I played Monopoly.” Steve leaned back in the booth. “But I am amazing at tic-tac-toe.”

“Oh yeah?” You reached in your purse and pulled out a pen, drawing the lines on a napkin. “Prove it?”

“Even with all this coffee and stimulating conversation.” You brought your hand to your mouth to stifle the yawn. “Exhaustion is setting in. I’ve got to get to bed.”

“How far do you live from here?” Steve reached for his wallet. “It’s almost 4 am. Can I walk you home?”

“Four am?” You hadn’t checked your phone since you told your friends you were safe after vanishing, that was five hours ago.

Sure enough the device read 3:56.

“Damn.” You grabbed a menu. “Might as well order breakfast then.”

Steve looked shocked, but then nodded in agreement, not pulling a menu. The server took notice and came over.

“I’ll have a meat lovers skillet, side of country gravy, sub American cheese, eggs over easy, wheat toast?” You but the menu back.

“I’ll have the same.” Steve leaned forward.

“Really?” The waitress was confused. “Not the usual?”

“I’m being adventurous tonight.” Steve winked.

“Okay.” She walked away.

“I like the way you know what you want.” Steve leaned back. “Kind of no nonsense. It’s refreshing.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” You laughed. “Maybe when it comes to diner food at 4 am. I’ve been eating my whole life after all.”

“So why isn’t there anyone special in your life?” Steve almost seemed fidgety.

“There’s lots of special people in my life.” You smiled. “I’m very close with my parents, my siblings, have some great friends I’d call family, my coworkers are amazing too.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Steve’s eyes showed a strange wave of vulnerability.

“No reason.” You wished you had a better answer. “I’ve dated plenty, had some serious partners, some not so serious. I guess I’m picky? What about you?”

“The friend who invited me to the club tonight, it was the girl.” Steve gave a pressed smile. “We were very serious, she broke it off about two months ago. Wanted to try being friends. I agreed to give it a go. I don’t see how it’s going to work.”

The perfect 10 brunette. Your heart started to ache for the man. He was heartbroken. It was all over his face, body language. Everything clicked.

“What a bitch.” You brought your hand to your mouth and looked at him with wide eyes.

He laughed and you relaxed.

“There you go, being honest and direct again.” Steve put his elbows on the table. “I don’t think people can be friends with exes. It’s not in the cards.”

“I’ve never tried.” You were more of the it’s done it’s done type. “My philosophy is look forward. The future. Thinking about the past, it’s a dangerous trap.”

“I’m starting to think the same thing.” Steve’s eyes lit up. “She is a big party girl, I mean, she’s a model so sometimes its a networking thing. But I never really fit into her life.”

“Wait, were you guys like a tabloid couple?” You tilted your head. “Can I read all about your breakup on instagram?”

“No!” Steve rolled his eyes. “That was part of the problem. I think she wanted that. Being with me could elevate her career and it made me feel used, so I wouldn’t allow public photos. There’s a few that leaked, but nothing confirming our relationship.”

“Wow, you celebrities are a different breed.” It never once crossed your mind to post about who you were having coffee with.

“I am not a celebrity.” Steve wagged a finger at you.

“Oh I’m sorry.” You brought your hand to your chest. “Historical figure.”

Steve cracked up. His laugh was infectious and you joined, chuckling away.

“Without being too forward young lady,” Steve reached out and grabbed your hand, sparks shooting down your arm. “Could I have your telephone number?”

You knew he was bating you for a joke. But you preferred the natural type.

“Yes.” You reached for your phone, breaking the hand touch. “You can have my number.”

Noon hit and you forced yourself out of bed, six hours of sleep was doable. You began to make your mental checklist of projects for the day while you brushed your teeth.

There was a giddy ness in the back of your mind over last night. He was a cool guy and it was a fun time. Your brain started to think about work. You had to call your parents and check in, probably explain to your friends about where you went, you would leave out the Captain America angle.

You grabbed your phone and your jaw about hit the floor. There was a text from Steve already.

Are you going to say good morning?

You didn’t think you would hear from him for at least a few days. It made you smile and wiggle as you sat on the bed.

Good morning! Or afternoon?

Before you set the device down the reply bubbles started to form. You parted ways seven hours ago. It was a Saturday. This was unexpected. The bubbles disappeared and then reappeared several times. You were on the edge of your seat.

Then your phone started to vibrate. You almost threw the thing, seeing Steve’s name pop up. Instead your smile grew as you slid it to answer.

“Was good afternoon not appropriate? Technically it’s 12:15, that is literally after noon.” You tried to stifle the excitement.

“You want to have a beer with me tonight?” Steve’s voice was just as sexy over the phone. “I would say dinner, but I know you had some things to take care of. There’s this sports bar I love, I promise I won’t spill anything on you and coffee keeps us up too late.”

“I’d love to.” You didn’t see a point in trying to act coy.

“Great, nine o’clock? I’ll text you the address.” Steve’s smile carried over the phone.

“Sounds like a plan.” You ran your hand over your hair and wondered if you could get away without washing it.

“Have a great day. I”ll see you tonight.”

“Bye.” You clicked off the phone and did a little happy dance.

You didn’t see that one coming.

Your phone lit up with Steve’s message right away. You sent a thumbs up emoji. To your surprise, Steve responded:

Emojis, it’s like hyrogliphics are coming back? Why did we skip the sonnets?

You didn’t even think before responding.

You: Shall I compare thee to a Summer’s Day? Thou art more lovely and temperate.

Steve: Sonnet 18, one of the greats.

You: I stole it from Clueless.

Steve: What’s Clueless?

You woke the next morning, at your normal 8 am. Even more thrilled with the date from the night before. It was fun. It was a fantastic time. Of course the texting all day long made the conversation flow right to person-to-person.

“I can’t sleep until noon tomorrow.” You stood up from the bar stool. “Plus I hit my three beer maximum. Maybe once I know you better you can meet four beer me.”

“You’re guarded in the strangest ways.” Steve beamed at you.

“Me?” You were shocked. “I’m an open book. Nothing to hide.”

“Well would this bother you then?” Steve cupped your cheek and before you could react his face leaned in.

Warm lips met yours. You melted into him, your body felt like it was floating. Nobody in the bar paid you any attention as his tongue slid into your mouth before pulling out. A little moan came forward when he pulled away.

There was a devilish grin on his face as he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles.

“Let’s get you an Uber.”

All you could do was nod in a numb state. This amazing man kissed you. It was like a dream.

You were all smiles as you rolled out of bed, straight to the bathroom. Sundays were your lazy day, but you missed too much yesterday that you had to squeeze some work in. It wouldn’t be too much.

When you left the bathroom you grabbed your phone. Your heart exploded when you saw there was already a text from Steve.

Today you can say good morning. I have faith.

Steve Rogers was perfect. Three dates in a week, not including coffee night. Every other day he wanted to see you. He made you laugh, listened to you, was always available. Sent you little comics you found funny. You giggled at the last gif he sent you of a puppy eating bubble.

You: I’ve got to head into a work meeting. I’ll text you later.

Steve: Knock ‘em dead.

Supportive too. You smiled as you slipped your phone into your pocket. It had only been a week, but you couldn’t remember the last time you connected with someone this way, if ever.

“You’re smiley.” A coworker bumped you with her arm. “It’s almost like you have a glow.”

“Just a happy person.” You shrugged. “How is your son doing? Any luck on that math test?”

“Oh he did much better!” Your coworker dropped her shoulders in relief. “That tutor was worth every penny.”

She continued to talk and you tried to listen, but your thoughts kept drifting to Steve. This was the best week of your life.

The meeting got your adrenaline pumping. You left and went straight to your office, typing away the e-mails, ready to get the new project off the ground. It was almost time to call it a day, the sun was starting to set.

That was when you picked up your phone. Two messages from Steve. Fuck. Guilt set in.

How was the meeting?

Everything okay?

You grabbed your phone and started typing.

You: Sorry work got crazy. Major project. Just leaving now.

Steve: Do you want to over to my place for dinner? Unwind? I can have a meal and some wine for you, straight away?

Unwinding with Steve sounded perfect, plus you were more interested in the version that didn’t involve a meal.

You looked down at your work clothes, your makeup probably long smeared off, but did that matter? Steve didn’t seem to care about your appearance. He wanted you for who you were. And right now that sounded perfect.

You: Do you have ice cream?

Steve: Oh my freezer is overflowing. Any flavor you like. Popsicles too.

You: I’m in. Text me your address?

Every other time you arrived at a paramour’s place for the first time you were nervous. Not this time. Your brain played a slide show of the last week. The way Steve listened, hung on your words, followed up with questions. He made you feel like the most important person in the world.

Your past experiences taught you that people were either fantastic talkers or listeners. You prided yourself on being both, but Steve seemed to fall in that same category.

With a strange confidence you hit the buzzer for his apartment. The door unlocked and you walked up the stairs, speeding up with each step.

When you got to his floor you spotted him hanging out the door, waving at you. This was going to be the hard part.

“Before I step inside, I have to let you know something.” You rehearsed this in your head a few times. “Work was insane today, and I know tomorrow is Saturday, but I have to put in a few hours. This happens about twice a year, not a common occurrence. But as much as I want to, I can’t spend the night.”

“Okay.” Steve nodded and held the door open. “Again I love your honesty.”

You walked in to see all the only lights on in the apartment two candles on the clothed kitchen table. Your heart started to sink at the thought he’d put into it, but then you noticed the meal set out at each end and began to laugh.

“Full disclosure, all I had was some TV dinners.” Steve came behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “And there’s no ice cream or popsicles. But I can think of something I want for dessert.”

You spun around and put your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss. He reached underneath you and scooped you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you, deepening the kiss.

Nothing had ever felt so right in your life. It was as if the cosmos had brought you together.

“You’re too perfect.” You pulled away as he dropped you on the bed.

“You’re a one-in-a-million.” Steve’s breath was heavy as he started to pull at your clothing.

Hands were everywhere, lips randomly touching whatever skin they could. Shoes and socks flying off with pants and shirts. You shoved his boxers down as he unhooked your bra, the feeling of your bare chests pushed together making you shudder.

Steve grabbed your panties and yanked them down as you settled back on his bed. ��On your back, legs spread, knees up. His arm encircled your thigh as he began to kiss. You moaned and fisted the blanket, lifting your pelvis up inviting his mouth.

He wasted no time and began to devour you. You tried to pay attention to what he was doing, but you couldn’t keep up. Was that his tongue? His lips? You cried out when something slid inside of you.

“FUCK!” Your body convulsed around his mouth.

Your chest heaved while your brain tried to keep up with the pleasure. Steve kept licking, touching, working you. Everything was frenzied. Your head collapsed to the side and you tried to regain control.

“I knew you were primed.” Steve kissed up your stomach. “But you have one more in you.”

He climbed until he was over you, his cock lining up with your entrance. Never had you came that fast from another person.

Steve pushed forward and filled your aching pussy. You squealed and grabbed onto his shoulders. Rolling your body against his.

“That’s it.” He nipped at your neck. “You were meant for me. Never felt this way before.”

You grabbed his face and pulled his lips to your own, enjoying the taste of yourself on him while he railed into you. He returned the kiss and sped up. Slamming his cock, teasing your clit while your g-spot came to life.

There was no hiding your moans and his grunts as your bodies melded together. Your breath started to tighten, and then your muscles started. The edge came fast and you flung yourself over.

Your head went back into the pillow as your screamed, it was impossible to tell if your vision went black since the room was too dark. But Steve let out a grunt and pulled out of you.

Instead of blowing all over your stomach he pushed your head down. You slid down the bed and opened your mouth.

His aim was perfect and for the second time you tasted yourself, enjoying the way he finished in your mouth, letting your lips wrap around his tip. Drinking him all down while your body shook.

“I think I’m falling in love.” Steve pushed forward before pulling out and landing on his back.

You nodded, breathless as you curled up to him. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close, kissing the top of your head.

You ignored the tears forming in your eyes, fighting them away. If pure happiness existed, this was it. How did you get so lucky?

Steve: I’m going to hug my pillow all night wishing it was you.

You glanced at the clock, it was already approaching midnight.

You: I’m sorry I couldn’t stay. Thank you for a wonderful night and a gourmet meal.

Steve: Get some sleep. I miss you.

You: I miss you too.

You grabbed your pillow. If Steve was pretending his was you, maybe you could do that same. A huge smile on your face as you drifted off.

You woke with a smile. Maybe Smiley could be your new nickname. You grabbed your phone eager to see what Steve had sent. To your surprise, there was no message.

All week long you’d woken up to messages. You smiled even bigger, maybe you’d finally worn him out and the man needed more sleep than you did.

You rolled out of bed to brush your teeth, thoughts filled with nothing but Steve.

Work was so intense, you turned your phone off. No distractions. When the team broke for lunch you flipped it on, your heart racing to see Steve’s messages. When the screen came to life you saw nothing.

Maybe it was wrong? Messages glitched sometimes. You clicked the app open, all you saw was your last message. It said read at 12:03 am.

You shrugged it off. Steve knew you had a big work day. He was being respectful. You thought about texting him, but you had to get back to it and didn’t want to come off as needy. It wasn’t like you could text him all afternoon.

The project finished an hour early, 4 pm on a Saturday. Everyone gave themselves a round of applause and you did a lazy golf clap as you reached for your phone.

Your heart exploded when you saw a message from Steve.

Steve: How was your day?

You: Good. I have so much to tell you!

There was no bubble response, or read receipt. You stared at your phone. Maybe turning it off had been a bad idea.

After saying goodbye to your colleagues and walking to you subway stop your phone dings with a message.

Steve: Can we meet for coffee?

You giggled.

You: Why not dinner? The real kind this time. It was a big day for me! I want to celebrate, you can supply dessert again.

Steve: Coffee. Now? First night?

Maybe he had a big day too. He’d been so supportive of you, it was due to return the favor.

You: Sure. I’ll be there in twenty.

You headed to the other subway line, more than eager for a sleepover tonight.

When you arrive at the diner you scan it, not seeing Steve anywhere. Maybe you beat him here. You were about to grab a random booth when a man in a black hoodie, baseball hat, and sunglasses sticks his hand in the air.

You smile, wondering if this is some Avenger’s mission.

“Are you going as the Unabomber for Halloween?” You slide into the booth. “I couldn’t even recognize you.”

“There’s no easy way to say this.” Steve cracked his jaw. “Ashley called me last night. Very upset.”

“Whose Ashley?” You blurted out the first thought that came to your mind.

“My ex.” He let out a huge sigh. “She’s a mess.”

“The bitch from the club?” You were a little interested in the drama.

“She’s not a bitch.” Steve put his hands on the table and your blood ran cold. “She has some problems. She is working on them. And we have a lot of history and she needs my help.”

“Oh.” You felt like your soul floated out of your body.

“You’re so perfect.” He reached out and grabbed your hands. “But she needs me. You don’t need me. We have a lot of history and I owe it to her to try.”

“Oh.” Everything went numb.

“I wanted to let you know in person and before things got too serious.” Steve squeezed your hand. “If I could take back last night, I wouldn’t. It was perfect, you’re perfect.”

“You already said that.” Your voice was getting tight.

“But I mean it.” He pushed the hood off his baseball cap. “I can’t leave her. Without me, I mean, you saw her at the club that night. She’s a disaster.”

The tears started to boil in your throat they were so deep. You yanked your hands away, thoughts flying to wild to speak clearly. You didn’t know if you wanted to scream at him or plead with him to pick you.

“I hope we can stay friends?” He let out a sigh. “I mean, you’re amazing and you made me so happy this past week. Probably the happiest I’ve been in my entire life. You’re smart, and witty, and beautiful, and you’re everything.”

The way he said week hit home. It was only a week. Not a month, not a year. Just a week. A lot of digs ran through your mind, ways you could make a joke, ways you could state your feelings. But instead you said one thing.

“Sure.” Your brain started to scream at itself.

“That’s such a relief.” Steve dropped his shoulders.

“I had a really long day.” You stood up from the booth. “Talk soon?”

You didn’t look back as you ran to the door, the tears spilling over. With a shaky hand you pulled out your phone, screaming at yourself for being so stupid to develope feelings, but smart enough to do one thing. You highlighted his contact and clicked delete.

Friends, family, whoever would talk had to listen to you cry. You didn’t hold back for them. You made sure they alternated duty. You even took a week off of work.

“If I would have stayed that night, would he have ignored her?” You sobbed to your best friend.

“No hunny.” She ran a hand through your head. “No. You got caught in a weird game.”

Steve: How do you kill a circus?

It’s a random number not saved to a contact, but you know that’s the first text you get from Steve. You know the punchline, but rather than responding you delete it. The last thing you want is to memorize his number.

You would’ve broken down and sent some very dumb stuff you would’ve regretted. It’s only been five days. He should send his girlfriend those jokes, not you.

Three days later you get another.

Steve: How are you?

You think about deleting it, you think about screaming you broke my heart, acting cool like you’re busy, or just gushing about how much you miss him and what a great guy his is.

You: Fine.

Steve: Glad to hear.

You don’t hesitate to delete the thread.

Steve: I miss you.

Your heart races. It’s been two weeks since the night you had the best sex of your life. The tears sting your eyes. You’ve been apart longer than you were together. Did he realize he made a mistake? Was he coming back to you?

You start typing: I miss

But then you stop. No. You had to frame this right. State it right. But what was there to do? Yell at him into loving you? Did you love him? Your heart hurt like it had, but this was wrong.

With a shaky finger you highlighted the number and moved it to block. The sobs came again and you cuddled your phone, regretting your choice.

The day you hit the month mark you were trying not to think about Steve, but then the celebrity hit: CAPTAIN AMERICA ENGAGED! It ran all over the headlines.

Him and his fiance were plastered everywhere. You couldn’t escape. It hit you then. You were a rebound. You were nothing. A temporary step on his life path. It hurt. It hurt more than anything. No ice cream could repair the hole one week with Steve Rogers had created.

“I’m glad we got you out tonight.” Your friend poked you in the side as she screamed in your ear. “What’s it been, months since you’ve been in a club?”

“Yep.” Two, but you tried not to think about how your last time in a nightclub ended, how it could derail your life. “But I’m here.”

You still hated the loud music. Memories of a sports bar with Steve tried to come forward, but you buried them before they could.

“Let’s dance!” She grabbed your hand.

“Not yet.” You yanked it away. “In a few drinks.”

“I’ll wait with you.” She settled next to you. “But that dance floor is inviting.”

The bodies were moving and you scanned the area. Your eyes bulged when you spotted a familiar face, tongue down a mouth.

“Is that…..is that Captain America’s fiance?” Your friend grabbed your arm, you never told them the mysterious Steve’s last name. “She’s not kissing Cap.”

She pulled out her phone ready to take a picture, but you put your hand out and lowered her arm.

A wave of clarity rushed over you.

“His girl wants to party all the time. He buys her champagne and diamonds.” A weird smile settled over you. “He thinks he can fix her.”

That was the problem. You didn’t need fixing. And if you ever did you would figure it out for yourself, with the support of people around you. Steve hit the nail on the head when he said you didn’t need him. You never would.

“Go dance.” You gave your friend a playful spank on the ass.

For the first time in two months you felt like yourself and turned back to the bar hoping to block the music.

A finger tapped your shoulder and you looked up with no jump.

“It’s loud in here.” A handsome man with dark hair looked down at you.

“There’s a coffee shop a block away.” You stood up. “Can I buy you a cup?”

“Yes.” He nodded and set his drink down.

“What’s your name?” You yelled over the music.

“Stephen.” He was right behind you.

“Do you go by Steve and what are your thoughts on needy women?” You pushed open the door to the club.

The air was hot and you rolled your shoulders back, embracing the lack of obnoxious music.

“If I went by Steve I would have introduced myself that way.” His intense eyes glared at you. “And I am a surgeon. Everyone I encounter is needy. I don’t have time for it in my personal life.”

You stifled your laughter at the response. At least Steve had taught you to speak your mind. Having a flashback to leaving the bar with him.

“Well Mr. Stranger, I will never need you.” You grinned at him. “Except for good conversation and occasional support.”

“It’s actually Doctor Strange.” He chuckled. “I think that’s the first time I laughed in months.”

“Tell me about it...literally.” You kicked at the sidewalk. “How do you kill a circus?”

The man scoffed at you and then wiped off his sleeves.

“You go for the juggler of course.”

#Steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel #marvel fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

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sorry-i-ship-drarry · 3 years

Text

33. Cruise to alberobello

Prompt used - tasting the others smile | this is Definitely not how I expected to write it or how I thought it would've turned out, but I do hope you like it or it'd be a waste | immensely inspired by call me by your name | today's post I'd like to dedicate to @littlebodybigheartttt for putting a smile on my face |

Harry recites a story to the wizard travellers in hopes to impress the boy behind the bar

Fanart taken down because of confidentiality.

Fanart credit - @upthehillart

" I've got one " harry raised his forefinger to grab the attention of the fellow mates on the table

" so a few years ago, I had just started my auror training, probably like 2 months in, I got a call from my boss saying harry I need you in my office right now, I've got a job for you. And that 18 year old me so excited to get a job much before than any of my pals, I ran to the office as soon as possible and when I reached my boss guess what he said, harry I need you to go and fetch me these specific files from so and so person. I was shook for a moment that he called me all the way just to fetch some files from other country which possibly anyone could've done for him but I agreed to go nonetheless. The intercountry apparation was banned for a time there so I flew there. I was transported to a small town on South italy, I thought typical place, typical people but when I reached there, the place was goddamn symmetrical, yes not tall and High or pretty place, symmetrical. Everything so conical and guess what I found out, in a population of 11,000 only a 100 wizards and witches " harry paused to take a sip from his champagne glass, a couple of other people joining along over the table to listen to his intriguing story.

" and then blah blah, got boring fetching those files and such so I hit a bar. A muggle bar as I believe. There I was drinking my beer like quite a gentlemen and then there comes a girl, sat down beside me without asking and take my beer and I look at her like excuse me, miss but I think you've taken my drink, but she just shrugs and drink further so I ordered another for me. And then she goes, you see that couple over sitting by the door, I can bet that they are happily married and will definitely divorce the next year. I ask her how do you know and she goes I just know and then the next thing I know a bartender goes to them and says honeymoon special. I was shook but said it's just a simple coincidence but then she tells about 5 more people and only one of them she got wrong. I kept on saying maybe it's a coincidence, or Maybe she knew but then she proved me she didn't. And then we got to talking like I had never talked to anyone. You know the kind of energy where you just hit it off with someone, she was that person, Only she was the most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes upon, like a Sin city just walking like every normal person but she had no idea how beautiful she was, like a beautiful summer day " and harry stopped eager to see some reaction

" then what ?"

" then we talked. I thought she was all just Beauty but I had never met anyone like her. She talked of things only one could've thought of. So we were talking on the matter of love and she goes it's all complicated and then I ask her to elaborate. So she does, she says the complication in love lies only in its complexity, and then she goes like we often mistake love to be like a summer breeze that is there one day that takes you away and you enjoy it while it lasts but love, actually is like a dagger, it can pierce right through you, leave you bleeding if you get too close but if the dagger points them, you let yourself them fall over it, you stab them just like you do when it points you. So I ask her what does she think of soulmates or the marriage that lasts forever and she smiles at me and went soulmate is a consolation for a weak hearted that there exists love for you which would be devoid of your insecurities. And I frown, I said that what if it's a perfect relationship, and then she says, there can never be a perfect relationship because if it exists, then the love isn't real and I get confused " harry notices the table filling in more, the bartender giving him a small smile, happy for his victory.

" and she says, my love, love is not a summer breeze, love is like a pandora box fill with paradoxical substances. It's a cold breeze that leads you to the Amazon forest, wide and unforeseen opportunities and problems available, but as you go deeper in the forest you realise for every problem there exist a solution. It's like falling on the dagger and bleeding but you should be intoxicated with the love of the dagger, so you will never die. I was amazed, she said so much reality in those few words. Then I ask her so what about people who say love is magical ? And she goes, doesn't magic exist, but if I were I to say, they find themselves ethereal when they fell over that dagger, the dagger in there you see is poisoned just like every other, yet a few realises and few doesn't and the one who doesn't says love is magical. Then out of curiosity I ask her when the clock hit exactly 12, do you believe in love ? She smiles at me very elegantly, the one she hadn't pull off the entire night, and she says I my friend, am the said dagger "

" seems as if we're there aren't we ?" Someone Whispered across the table.

Harry looked at them, gave them a small smile impressively and begin again " I ask her one last question, do you believe in soulmate ? And she shook her head and got off the stool and kisses her beau. I was rendered speechless, and then she says so long my friend and starts exiting the bar, I felt to myself that if I didn't follow her, I'd be damned, so I followed, Just a few steps away and then call out to her, she turns around and I ask her name and she replies with, my name is what there is in one, but only who fail to love doesn't have and then she says, this is Alex by the way, my soulmate. I turn to my side thinking of what possibly her name could've been and then when I raise my head, she has gone. Not like walked away gone, she had disappeared, with her beau and I stood there yet amazed. And then the next day I go to the bar again and ask about the girl to that bartender I was talking to and he goes, sir I do not know who was with you, all know is you came alone and went home alone. I didn't linger on much, and I called this the cruise to alberobello " and harry stops suddenly finishing off the rest of his champagne. He raises his eyes to meet the boy behind the bar, smiling wickedly at him.

" wha- what happened then ? Did you ever get to know her name ? Was any of it even real?" Someone asks in morbid curiosity.

"I always assumed her name to be Alma, meaning soul, with no other meaning and to this day the cruise to alberobello remains one of my most mysterious epiphanies " Harry chuckled. Groaning everyone dropped the story, intrigued by the story themselves.

It was half past 12 when the bar started emptying out, reaching its closing time and harry made himself comfortable over the bar stool.

" quite a story tonight " the boy with freckled eyes says wiping off the glasses with a dry cloth.

" I did. Travellers always seeks stories as such. Something they've never heard before, and leave them wondering " Harry chuckled finishing off his drink and pushing off the cup towards the boy..

" i must admit, I myself am very intrigued by the story" the boy smiles at harry. Harry looks at him warily smiling, he felt proud.

" I get off in 10 minutes, walk with me ?" He asked as he started taking of his apron

" I wouldn't do anything otherwise " Harry replied and exited the front door, the open sign changing to closed by a wand less magic and harry follows to the back door, waiting for Draco like he always does.

Exactly 10 minutes later, draco exits wearing a light Denim jacket over his black shirt and pants.

" shall we ?" He asked as he pushed his hands down his pocket.

They walk home talking about Harry's story, how it seemed almost unreal, however, they both Would've been doomed fools to not admit that the night had an enigmatic aura to it.

Just as they reached Draco's door, he pushes his hands in his pockets tip toeing waiting for Draco to safely reach inside.

" well that's me then " Draco said as he turned around after opening the door.

" I'll see you later then " Harry awkwardly replied.

" okay " Draco smiled

" okay "

Harry smiled and started tumbling back his home until he turned just in time to tell Draco one last thing.

" hey, Draco "

" yeah ?"

" you know my cruise to alberobello ?"

" yeah ? What about it ? "

Harry smiled biting his lip

" you are my cruise to alberobello "

And with that Harry vanished in thin air, letting the curiosity killing Draco's cat. Everything Harry had said, Draco used to put it down on little notes and keep it away in a box , a small gesture Remind Draco of Harry if he were to ever be gone but this left him shook. The truth about his cruise to alberobello, was that if the epiphany was even real or not, Harry didn't answer that. The mystery of the story lied within the fact how anyone could've ever remembered something from ages ago, it seemed unreal but harry was a man of many words, anything but a man who would forget. And this Draco knew because of his simple rememberance of bringing him a dairy free product when draco had told him very discreetly that he was lactose intolerant.

Draco tired to sleep it away but the restlessness buried in every nerve of him that forced him to stay awake until he couldn't bear anymore and disapparted to Harry's place.

" Draco, what are you doing here ? It's almost 2 " Harry frowned as he allowed Draco to walk into his own little Land of wonder he called home.

" you asked me on the way back if I believed your story to be real ? Here's what I think, the cruise to alberobello is infact an envisage of an interaction you assumed you had with the girl named Alma who sat next to you on the bar stool with her beau Alex, who you irrevocably found to be like dagger who would pierce you open if you fell for her but you couldn't bring yourself to even try to talk to her, so you imagined all of it. But when you met me, that girl named Alma became me, and I became your cruise you'd want to go on with but are too Afraid of admitting. Correct me if I'm wrong " Draco explained in a breath still standing in the hallway.

Harry frowns before he crossed his arms and smiled " I'm impressed "

" tell me if I'm wrong ?"

" what if you are ?"

" then you would lie because you only said what you said because you knew I'd be the only one who would understand the story "

Harry remained in shock, frowning" I'm thoroughly shook how beautifully right you are "

Draco huffs out air in relief " well harry James potter, then I am asking you to be my cruise to alberobello ? Will you be ?"

" Tomorrow night, 8 pm, Alberta palace ?"

" I'll be there " Draco replied.

" good night then Draco " Harry chuckled.

" Good night" Draco replied and was only About to disapparate when Harry interjected

" one last thing" and with that Harry kissed Draco's lip. There must've been something weird in the air because they both broke out laughing while kissing each other.

" took you this long ?" Draco smiled, his lips still pressed against Harry's and his arms wrapped around his torso.

" I was waiting for you to be impressed with at least one of my stories. I'm not just Beauty you know " Harry mumbled

" well you finally succeeded " and with that Harry softly traced Draco's lips with his own. It must've been so ethereal to be in the moment that draco couldn't stop smiling, and harry was drunk on Draco, and in Prosperity couldn't stop tasting Draco's smile, it could've been kissing but it felt otherwise, Harry was happy anyway.

And next night onwards,he didn't need more stories to attract the boy behind the bar.

This might be considered as a very late submission for @drarrymicrofic " cruise "

Requests open | Master list to all prompts now available

Day 32- reasons to not love Draco malfoy by Harry potter PT.1+PT.2 | Day 34- bath with me

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reidgraygubler · 4 years

Text

a different type of high (pt 7) spencer reid/reader

Title: A Different Type of High (part seven)

Request: no

Couple: spencer reid/gen-neutral!reader

Category: angst, with the tiniest bit of fluff

Content Warning: mentions of dating while recovering an addiction, mentions of drug use, attending narcotics anonymous, struggling with sobriety, withdrawal and symptoms of withdrawal, mentions and allusions of sex, Swearing, mildly ooc spencer, spencer’s pov,

Word Count: 3,202

Summary: The team confronts Spencer about how close he and reader are getting and are worried about their health and safety.

A/N: there won’t be an update next week, i have a very special/important announcement coming later today that’ll explain why. This is also the last part before the fun parts begin >:) so im also going to take the quickest break for a week and a half. But don’t worry, other things will be post! anyways, thank you all for the love and support! check out my masterlist!

last part series masterlist next part

{***}{***}{***}

I looked down at the person sleeping beside me. Their small body was curled into my side and one of their arms was languidly thrown across my body as if I was a stuffed animal. Part of me wondered if they were scared I'd disappear. I wish I could tell them that they didn't have to fear, I wasn't going anywhere unless they wanted me to. Well, other than work, I won’t be leaving them.

I tried to not let my thoughts be just about them, and my worries and fears. But it was hard. They were the first good thing to happen to me in a long time.

I’m sure their thoughts were consumed by me too. In fact, I know their thoughts were filled with me. They’re an addict. They have an addictive personality, and I’m their new addiction. They probably don’t even realize it either. Of course, why would they? They probably don’t even realize it. They live in their own little bubble, with their own rules, and I’m just a part of it. I was glad I was a part of it too. Because, I’m also an addict, and they’re my new addiction.

"Hey," their soft voice pulled me from my thoughts. I looked down at them with a smile. "What're you thinking about? You got that look in your eye," they smiled as they tried pulling the blanket over their body, and tried to hide into my side.

"Nothing special," I retorted, feeling a warmth spread through my body as they continued to cling to me. "Why? What are you thinking about?" I asked, resting my hand on their back. They rolled so my hand was on their stomach.

"You," they beamed, sticking their head out from under the blanket. A bright smile grew on their lips as they looked at me. Their hair was a mess and covered their eyes just right. The light from the lamp on the nightstand lit them up just right, showing each imperfection on their face. A blueish-purpleish spot on their neck caught my attention, and I couldn’t help but smile when I saw it.

"Good things I hope," I watched as they sat up, the blanket pooling around their waist. I tried not to stare at their bare body, but they made it hard as they stretched their arms in the air before turning to look at me. They leaned closer to me, a sly smile growing on their lips.

“Only the best thoughts of you fill my head,” they whispered before not so gracefully pressing their lips to mine. I laughed as I rested my hands on their shoulders to try and steady their body.

“That’s good, I think,” I raised an eyebrow as I looked back at them. They smiled before slipping out of the bed and grabbing the shirt I wore from the day before.

“I’m going to the bathroom… Don’t go anywhere,” they looked at me before leaning across the bed. I looked up at them with a smile before kissing them softly. “Promise,” their whisper was soft and innocent, as if they were asking their parents a promise not to break.

“It is my apartment,” I furrowed my eyebrows as I watched them walk away. They looked over their shoulder and right at me before slipping into the bathroom. I pressed my head into the headboard behind me as I waited for them to finish up. It’d be a matter of moments before they returned and I’d have to tell them I’d have to leave for work. I knew they wouldn’t have anything better to do today, other than hanging out at my apartment. Which, I was fine with. They could stay here for as long as they wanted.

“So,” their voice came from the bathroom, causing me to look towards them. They were walking out of the bathroom, looking down at the ground as they walked. I wondered what was going through their head, and I wondered what it was like to be in their mind on a good day. “What are the plans today,” they finally looked up at me with a smile. Their smile was quick to vanish when they saw the pout on my lips.

“I have to go in today,” I wrapped my arms around their body as they sat beside me. They looked up at me with sadness in their eyes. “Will you be alright without me today?” I asked as I lifted a hand to hold their head against my arm.

“Can I stay here?” they looked up at me through their eyelashes and a pout on their lips. I looked back at them and nodded. “I have some errands to do anyways… But, can I stay when I’m done?”

“Of course you can, I have no issue with that,” I whispered and nodded. They looked at me and smiled before pressing their lips to both my cheeks. They were quick as they moved to straddle my legs and wrap their arms around my neck.

“Thank you, Spencer,” they spoke in a soft whisper. I returned the smile and rested my hands on their hips. “I wish you didn’t have to work today. Wish we could stay here… together,” they whispered as they played with the hair on the back of my neck.

“Oh, I’ll be home before you even know it,” I looked up at them with a small smile on my lips. Their pout slowly turned into a smile as they looked at me. There was a certain joy and excitement in their eyes as they looked at me. And, I wondered what it was that they saw in me. I was in no way, shape, or form perfect. I don’t want to make it seem like they are, because they aren’t. But, some parts of them are. Maybe in another timeline, they were absolutely perfect, and nothing bad was happening to either of us.

“You look like you’re thinking too hard, Spencer,” they laughed at me. I looked at them and shook my head.

“I was just thinking that I should get ready for work. I want to get coffee on the way and I don’t want to be late,” I lifted a finger and poked their nose. Their nose wrinkled as I withdrew my finger from their face. A sneaky smile grew across their lips before they stuck their tongue out at me.

“I can’t believe you’d rather leave early and get coffee than hang out with me a little bit longer,” they placed a hand over their heart, feigning pain and heartbreak. I couldn’t help but laugh again. “Hurt, really, truly hurt by your laughter, Spencer,” they sighed, dropping their shoulders and tilting their head to the side.

“Maybe next time, if you wake up early enough, you can come with me to get coffee,” my hands ran up and down their arms as I looked up at them. They sighed before falling into my body, becoming a heavy lump as the seconds passed. “But, I seriously have to get ready,” I groaned as their weight stilled on me.

“But, what if you didn’t have to get ready and go in,” they spoke into my chest. I sighed, resting my hands on their back.

“C’mon, I can’t be late,” I tried to get them off me. And with a deep sigh and cry, they climbed off my body. “We can blame Hotch,” I laughed as I stood up.

“Stupid boss. Making you go to work,” they grumbled as they grabbed their jeans. I watched as they tried to reach for one of my cardigans. Part of me almost told them not to take it, but I knew they’d put up a fight and win it anyways. So, I let them.

“Just this once, I do like wearing my sweaters at work,” I watched as they slipped the sweater onto their arms. They looked at me and smiled, hugging their arms around their body.

“I’ll bring them back, promise,” they replied, watching as I got dressed.

“Part of me doesn’t believe you,” I looked over at them as I began to tie my tie. They stepped up to me and smoothed out my tie as I tried to reach for a different cardigan.

“That’s fair, but… Think about it, Spencer, this is the first sweater I’m stealing from you,” they smiled as they began to button the cardigan I was wearing.

“I am thinking… And… Still waiting for the jacket I gave you the first night we met,” I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at them. Their smile faltered slightly as their fingers continued to button my sweater. It was obvious they were trying to keep their eyes off me, looking at my sweater instead of looking at my face.

“Well, you see, I…” they closed one of her eyes as they tried to come up with a lie. I lifted my hand and brought it up to rest under their chin. “Okay, okay, I still have it… I just… don’t want to give it back,” their words trailed off as they spoke. I smiled and pulled my hand away from their face. “But, if you really want it back… I can return it,” they sighed as they looked up at me. I looked down at them and cocked my head to the side.

“I’ll think about it. Now, I definitely don’t have time for coffee,” I smiled before pecking their lips. They smiled before allowing me to go put pants on.

“That was my plan the whole time,” they smiled before leaving the bedroom, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

They were in my kitchen, and they were probably acting like it was our kitchen, like it was our home. I was honestly okay with that too… Hell, they even slept in the same bed as me (and done a little more than just sleep in said bed some nights). They basically lived with me at this point in time, without them having their belongings here. The thought of asking them to move in with me had passed my mind. But, a part of me wasn’t sure that was a good idea. Although, I’d love it if they lived with me. We’re each other’s distractions. Accountability Buddies, as they would put it.

Maybe I should just ask them? The worst they would say is no, right? But, I know them enough to know they wouldn’t say no.

Just as I finished putting my shoes on, the sounds of clatter came from somewhere out of the room. I could only assume they were in the kitchen, making what I could only hope was coffee. Knowing them, they probably felt bad about delaying my leaving. I don’t blame them. I felt bad for leaving them. But, they didn’t have to go out of their way to make me coffee...

“You still like a lot of sugar and cream, right!?” Their voice carried from the kitchen to my room as they shouted. I raised an eyebrow as a loud crash, followed by a list of profanities, came from the kitchen. “Everything is okay!” They shouted. I furrowed my eyebrows as I finished tying my shoes. When I stood up, I looked at my reflection, making sure I looked acceptable for the workday, and once I was pleased with how I looked, I made way for the sudden disaster in the kitchen. I’d be lying if I said I was looking forward to seeing what mess they had made.

“Made you coffee,” they smiled at me as they held up a plain white porcelain mug. I smiled before taking it from them and bringing it to my lips.

“You’re the best person in the world,” I looked at them as I took a sip. Part of me almost included ‘In fact, you’re my favorite person in the world,’. But, I figured that was for a different time. They smiled before stepping in front of a pile on the ground. My eyes looked between the shattered mug, and their ‘I’m not guilty’ expression.

“I’ll clean it up,” they muttered once they realized I saw the shards of a broken mug, “Have a good day,” they bounced up to me before pressing their lips to mine. They hummed as they wrapped their arms around me to hold me close.

“You too,” I whispered before pecking their lips one last time. They looked up at me as I succeeded sliping free from their grip and to leave. I looked down at my watch. At the rate I was moving, I’d be only a few minutes late. Hopefully no one at the office will be mad that I’m late. They shouldn’t care too much, right? There have been times Derek was late, or Emily… It shouldn’t be too much of a problem… I hope.

When I finally did arrive at the office, I dropped my empty mug off at mydesk, before finding my way to the conference room. And, just as I had thought, everyone was already there, and the briefing had already started.

I tried to not feel embarrassed that everyone stared at me as I took a seat beside Jennifer and Emily. But it was hard when their stares felt judgemental. They hadn’t treated me any different since I told them about my problems and addiction. In fact, they 100% supported me. I just think they were happy that I was getting help instead of suffering in silence. I didn’t have it in me to tell them that I suffered for the better part of a year after Tobias Henkle, I just got scared.

“Sorry I’m late,” I muttered as I sat. Aaron looked over at me with a mildly worried look in his eye. “We slept in a little and then I started running late.” I made up, even though it wasn’t a total lie.

“Says the mark on your neck,” Emily looked down at the table, her eyes scanning the file she had. I glanced over at her, feeling a flame grow over my neck. I found myself looking down, my hands instantly went to my neck to cover the marks that were put there last night by a certain someone.

“Oh! My man! You getting some?” Derek looked over at me with a smirk. I looked up at him with wide eyes, my hands slipping away from my neck.

“Shut up,” I muttered before looking back down at the table. I sighed deeply before flipping the case file. “Frankly, it’s none of your business,” I glanced at him for a moment before looking back down at the file.

“Spence,” Jennifer looked at me, her voice soft. I had to hold back from snapping, because I almost did. Just because she’s my best friend, doesn’t exactly mean she, or anyone for that fact, gets to ask about my sex life or what happens at home.

“I don’t know what you guys want me to say,” I shrugged as I looked at everyone, “I’m obviously not going to lie, but, I don’t want to tell you that. That’s private,” I wrinkled my nose as I spoke. The room fell silent for a moment before Jennifer spoke.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with-”

“I don’t know what you're talking about, Jennifer,” I looked at her with a mild annoyance on my face.

“You’ve gotten pretty close to them, that’s all,” Jennifer looked over at me. I lowered the file I was reading and looked over at her with a raised eyebrow. Derek was the next person to look at me.

“I never said anything about a relationship with them… With anyone actually,” I spoke sternly.

“So what? We just hang out with each other. We’re each other’s accountability partners. That’s it,” I stated, feeling the lie burn up my throat and through my teeth. I could sense that they knew it was a lie too. So, no one said anything for a moment. Until Emily did.

“Spencer, you know this. People who are recovering from an addiction shouldn’t be in a relationship. It can be dangerous for both people in the party,” Emily looked over at me. I looked back at her, trying not to attack her as I’ve done in the recent past. But, she keeps talking to me like she knows me. She doesn’t know me. Not like the other members of the team. Not like the person at home knows me.

“They… they make me feel better,” I whispered, my words trailing off before looking away from everyone. I could feel their stares and silent judgments drilling into my body. No matter what I would say to them, they’d have a comeback. “We’re just friends,” it was a lie. Everyone knew that it was a lie too. I’m not sure what we were, but we weren’t just friends. I didn’t want to risk losing them though. I didn’t want to tell the team that they'd further judge me.

“I think that’s a conversation for another day,” Jennifer looked at me, almost like she was reading my mind. I looked back at her, feeling my heart slow to a near stop. I hoped she’d forget about having a conversation about this. But, it’ll probably be on her mind for the rest of forever.

However, I was grateful the pain-staking conversation came to an end when my phone began ringing. I was quick to pull it out of my pocket, only to see that it was my home phone calling me. I furrowed my eyebrows for a moment before realizing who it was calling me.

“Excuse me, I have to take this,” I looked back up at each individual person before stepping out of the room.

“This is Doctor Spencer Reid,” my voice was low as I spoke. I didn’t want anyone around to listen in on my conversation, though it’d be one-sided for that person.

“Hey,” their voice was just as low as mine, and I could tell something was wrong, “Hey, I... I, uh… I know you don’t like it when I call… When you’re on, uh… You’re at the office. But I think… I think someone was followin- Spencer, I think someone’s trying to break in,” their voice was shaky and that confirmed there was something wrong.

“Spencer, what… What do I do?”

“Don’t… Listen, don’t worry, I’ll be back soon. Okay?” I tried to not let a shakiness grow in my voice. But it was clear something was wrong. I swallowed roughly before shaking my head.

“Spen-Please.. Please hur-” and then the line went silent. I furrowed my eyebrows before pulling my phone from my ear, looking at the screen that once had an on-going call.

I quietly whispered their name after I pressed my phone to my ear. When it was quiet, I took a deep shaky breath before turning to re-enter the conference room.

“That was… Someone… Someone broke into my apartment… While…” my words trailed off as I looked at the people around the table. Everyone looked at me as they realized what I was saying, without actually saying it. “I don’t know if they’re okay… Please… Help me,”

series taglist: @shameleswhorehourstm , @itsametaphorbriansblog , @bxtchboy69 , @sammypotato67 , @seninjakitey , @thatsonezesty13 , @thebluetint , @honestlystop , @herecomesthewriterwitch , @mediocrity-atitsfinest , @honeyboysteezy , @aluna190 , @mggsprettygirl , @vampiracontessa , @takeyourleap-of-faith , @cielo1984

tags that didn’t work: @mediocrehamiltrash @exilereid

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#shadow writes stuff #masterlist #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid #criminal minds #mgg #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #doctor spencer reid #doctor spencer reid fan fiction #doctor spence reid fanfiction #doctor spencer reid fanfiction #doctor spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #a different type of high

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itsallagatha · 4 years

Text

Part 2

Agnes(Agatha) x OFC

wc: 1,792

warnings: none? memory loss?

This one is bit long and angsty lol -brie 💜

Ella found herself sitting on a couch of the ever intriguing woman who had seemingly for lack of a better word “kidnapped” her.

Since running into her outside, Elara hadn’t left Agnes’s side. They had chatted about Westview, the new couple across the street, the pecking order amongst the women in town, and anything else Agnes felt was necessary she know.

When they sat down for dinner, Elara hadn’t expected anything extraordinary. After all, this arrangement had only happened a few hours prior. But Agnes had gone out of her way to make it the most spectacular, dare Ella say, romantic, dinner she has ever taken part of. Maybe it was just the candlelight, but Agnes seemed to be glowing as they talked. She was absolutely stunning in every way, Ella couldn’t keep her eyes off of her, something Agnes ended up pointing out a few times to which Ella would avert her gaze and deny with a soft blush.

Ella knew without a doubt she was hastily falling head over heels for the nice woman with the boisterous personality and sparkly smile. She could hope (though she had many doubts) that Agnes would feel the same one day.

After dinner, Agnes had stepped away to clean up the dishes, insisting she do them herself, leaving Ella with a rare moment to herself. She began to truly look around for the first time. Getting up, she began to walk around the cozy sitting room. What first caught her eye was the wall full of stocked bookshelves.

Reading

She remembered sitting in front of a fireplace wrapped up in someone’s arms with a good book. She couldn’t remember who though, or when for that matter. Honestly it felt more like a dream than a memory.

Meanwhile Agatha was brewing a special pot of tea in the kitchen. Hoping a little bit of truth serum would help get to the bottom of all her questions. Of course she could always easily force her way into Elara’s head, but the side effects were...less than desirable.

Picking up her tea tray, Agatha made her way back into her sitting room. About to announce her presence, however a certain sight made her pause. Her eyes landed on Elara who looked blissfully lost in a book, unaware of the world outside the pages.

A wave of sadness flooded Agatha’s mind as she quietly watched her from the doorway. She missed her wife. It hadn’t been particularly easy the past few days watching Wanda and Vision live out their newlywed fantasies while she was isolated from her own partner. It was in that moment that Elara felt so close yet so far out of reach. It was frustrating.

Agatha cleared her throat before announcing herself. “Sorry about the wait, dear! Why don’t you join me?”

Ella jumped slightly, startled out her daydream. (Agatha most definitely noticed how timid her wife seemed to be acting since arriving in Westview, but tucked away that tidbit of observations for a later date). She slid the book into place on the shelf and made her way back to the couch, watching Agnes carefully set out her tea set.

Agatha patted the cushion next to her, “Come on, don’t be shy, I don’t bite! Unless you ask nicely first.” She chuckled a bit after that, reveling in the way it made Elara blush as she took her seat.

“Well-I...You’ve been so kind to me today, I just want to express my gratitude, Agnes, truly!”

“Don’t even mention it! Here.” Agatha handed her a cup of tea, then grabbed her own and once again started rattling on about everything and nothing all at once.

It didn’t take long for Elara to begin to feel the effects of the doctored tea. Her eyelids started drooping of their own accord and suddenly her teacup felt much too heavy to hold. Grasping the back of the couch with her free hand, Elara tried to steady herself, but to no avail.

“Agnes…”

Agatha quickly grabbed one of Elara’s shoulders as she set her own cup down, then took Elara’s and placed it with her own. “Steady there! Are you feeling alright?”

“I don’t-I…” Elara’s eyes were filled with worry as she struggled to feel even slightly present. It was like all her thoughts simply...vanished.

“Good.” Agatha used her now free hand to gently hold her wife’s waist, occasionally nudging her swaying figure to keep her sitting upright. “Now look back at me dear, I just have a few questions I'd like to ask you.” She gently reached for Elara’s chin, turning her face to look at her own. “Is that okay?”

Ella, now completely under the influence of the spelled tea, merely flashed a dopey smile in response. “You-you’re very pretty…”

“Aren’t you precious,” Agatha cooed while softly stroking her thumb across Elara’s cheek in an attempt to ground her. Feeling her lean into the touch, Agatha decided to move forward with her questions. “Who are you?”

“Ella.”

“Your real name?”

Frowning slightly, Ella began pulling away from Agnes’s touch. “I think I would know my own name.”

Agatha let her hands fall into her lap. “I have reason to believe you don’t.”

“And what reason would that be?”

“Women’s intuition, perhaps? Now, riddle me this: how did you get here? To Westview?” Agatha’s eyes wandered all across Elara, hoping to pick up any conclusions from her body language. Elara had bit her lip and was frowning as if trying to concentrate or remember something. Agatha could tell she was beginning to get frustrated.

Elara inhaled rather sharply before stuttering out a response. “I don’t-I...I don’t know.”

“Now you and I both know this particular piece of information is buried somewhere in that pretty little head of yours. Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not! I promise!” Elara pleaded. “I truly don’t know!” The reality of her situation was finally caving in on Elara. The fact that she truly couldn’t remember anything about herself prior to the past few hours was unsettling to say the least.

Agatha was also beginning to look concerned. She saw the panic begin to set into her wife’s features. She was all big eyes and shaky hands. Agatha didn’t want to upset her this much, but it seemed like the best point of action: the intensity of Elara’s emotions paired with the effects of the tea should be just the distraction her mind needs to break free of the hex.

Tears started to form in the corners of Elara’s eyes. “I’m not lying, Agnes! I-I really have absolutely no idea how I got here or what any of this is supposed to be! I know I must sound out of my mind.” Elara leaned forward a bit too quickly in an attempt to grab one of Agatha’s hands and almost fell over in the process, but Agatha reached out to grab her side before she could.

“Careful dear-“

“You have to believe me!”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Why not? I’m telling the truth!” Elara reached out a hand, aiming for Agatha’s knee as a way to appeal to her but ended up missing and landing much higher up her thigh.

Agatha faked a gasp at the contact and quickly removed Elara’s hand. “Now now, seduction will get you nowhere, dear.”

“I didn’t-I’m not…” Elara huffed in frustration, the tears now steadily falling down her face. She had probably ruined any chance she might have had with Agnes. The last thing she wanted was for Agnes thinking she was trying to come onto her. She wasn’t. And she didn’t have any of the answers Agnes wanted and she didn’t understand why she was being so emotional either. Not to mention, she truly had no idea where she was. Nothing made sense anymore and it was starting to get to her head.

Clearly Elara was overwhelmed. That was more than obvious to Agatha. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep pressing her, or if she wanted to for that matter. Agatha herself was beginning to get upset at Elara’s current state, so she gently grasped her chin in one hand and pulled a kerchief out of her pocket with the other and began carefully wiping away Elara’s tears.

“There now, I know you weren’t darling. I was just trying to lighten the mood.” Elara started apologizing, but Agatha cut her off. “No need to apologize. You’re doing just fine!”

Ella took a deep breath and leaned into Agnes’s touch. She couldn’t help but think about what a terrible first impression she was making. Agnes was so captivating to Ella. She didn’t know what she would do with herself if they never spoke again. She had already lost her once, she couldn’t loose her again.

Wait.

Loose her again?

“Why are you here, darling? Think you can at least tell me that?”

Ella merely stared curiously at Agnes, lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t hear the question.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

Shaking her head, Ella moved Agnes’s hand off her cheek, holding it tightly in her own. “I’ve been looking for you. I lost you...how do I know that? How is that even possible? I just met you today.”

Agatha froze. Had she finally gotten through to her? “I assure you, it’s much more than possible.”

One last single tear fell down Elara’s face. “I’m scared, Agnes.”

Wrapping her arms around Elara’s shaking form, Agatha pulled her into a tight embrace, tucking her blonde head of hair under her chin. “I know, dear. Believe me, I know.”

Before either could speak again, there was a knock at the door. Both women turned around as a female voice called out for Agnes.

Agatha grimaced. Wanda just had to have impeccable timing. Glancing between the door and her wife, Agatha knew she had to make a quick decision. If Wanda saw Elara like this, she’d know something was wrong and possibly banish her from Westview. She was unwilling to lose the progress they had made on Elara’s memory, but was more unwilling to lose her all together.

With a flick of her wrist, purple smoke filled the room then dissipated. The tea set disappeared and Elara was returned completely to her Westview self with no recollection of their post dinner conversation.

Wanda knocked on the door and called out for Agnes once more.

Ella blinked, her vision clearing revealing Agnes staring carefully into her eyes.

“Are you feeling alright, dear?”

Ella frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Agnes shook her head. “Nothing. Just...checking in on my lovely house guest.” With that, she got up, leaving Ella alone, as she went to answer the door. Hopefully Wanda wouldn’t sense anything amiss.

At least not yet.

#agatha harkness x reader #Agatha Harkness x OC #agnes x reader #agatha harkness #agnes wandavision #honestly I rewrote this part about 4 times #but I think I’m happy with it now

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