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skyfallslayer · 2 years

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The Daughter of The (Dare)Devil - Story 4

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: A Series of stories revolving around the MCU timeline of Matt Murdock and his Daughter, Kaila. Being the child of a vigilante can be hard and scary at times, but it doesn’t mean she ain’t going to enjoy the most of it.

(Can be read as Y/N if you’d like)

Story Summary: He’s already confessed his fears, but sometimes talking it over with a love one is so much better than any priest.

Or, Matt has no choice but to spill his fears to Kaila who just desperately wants him to come home safe (Set during S1E8 & E9 "Shadows in The Glass” & “Speak of The Devil")

(Read the previous stories for a better understanding)

Date: 6/9

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 9811 (This is a long one y'all)

Warning: Very Fast Pace; Hints of Karedevil; Changing POVs (?); Lots of Blood; Traumatic Moments; Kaila having some Mommy Issues; Matt being a bit annoying (?); The Murdocks are bad at expressing their feeling; Slight Child Neglect; Guilt; Lying; Protective!Matt; Mini Panic Attacks; Angst, Like SO MUCH angst; A bit of fluff; Unhealthy dealings with stress; Talks about Murdering; Brief mention of religion; READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

There are also Spanish translated with Google so it might be inaccurate. Just a heads up as well.

A/N: Also, I mention above that Kaila will be dealing with some Mommy Issues. Now, it may seem out of place in this story but it does have meaning, and will be a topic discuss later on in the series. So keep whatever she says in mind. :)

Thank you and enjoy!

Yet another sleepless night for the girl in the navy blue hoodie.

The young Murdock sat in one of the office’s chairs by the door, trying to not let her emotions show as she scrolled through her phone. It only got worse as she read more. The stories about her father’s night job got worse and worse, and even the people with their tin foil hats started crawling out of their caves. Biased sources, and people who just hated vigilantes in general (or any heroes for that matter) were there too, spewing nonsense that made her head spin. It was all getting a bit too much.

“Shit…” She whispers, scratching her forehead.

Dad, this is not good.

When she heard one of the office doors swing open, she quickly swiped to a new tab, away from the nail biting topics.

“Matt wouldn’t understand.” Karen said, coming out of Foggy’s office.

“That we’re awesome?” He replies, trailing behind with a piece of bagel in his mouth.

She scoffed. “No, that we’re being stupid.” She explains, tossing the folder down on a table.

“I prefer the term, ‘foolheartedly provocative’.”

“Yeah, that’s lawyer talk for stupid.” She points out while starting to make herself something hot to drink. “You want coffee?”

Foggy makes a face and shakes his head. “If we’re gonna be Nancy Drew-ing together, I think a certain level of honesty is required.”

Karen looked surprised. “What? You don’t like my coffee?”

“No, I hate it.” He says, making her gasp. “I appreciate the effort, but the technique, or lack thereof–”

She laughs, swiping the file from the table again and walks past him. “My god, you are such a dick.”

Kaila snorts, their conversation actually lifting her hopes up a bit. “It took you this long to figure that out, Miss Page?” She asks, making the woman laugh a little bit more.

“Hey! Who asked for your opinion, young lady?” Foggy said, pointing. “On occasion, Karen, some dickery may leak out, but doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

“Well, it means something.” Karen replies.

“Okay, let’s say we keep Matt in the dark–” He begins, then faces the teenager again. “Sorry, Kaila.”

His apology was one of many he gave last night. Both him and Karen almost begged her to keep this quiet until they figure out how they're going to loop her father into this. Or in some cases/scenarios, to not loop him in at all. Kaila accepts these, but doesn’t think keeping her father in the dark about all this is right (especially when his nightly activities intertwine with them).

Foggy continues despite the unsettling look on her face. “How long do you think–” The door suddenly opens, and everyone’s room in the heart sinks. “I should grow my hair? Matt, what’s your take on that? Mullet? Full pony?”

“Holy shit. Did you fall down again?” Karen said, worriedly as she took in his bruised and bandaged face.

Kaila slides off her chair, heart pounding for a different reason now. “Dad?”

“I’m alright. It’s nothing.” Matt says, looking in her direction. He gives her a sad smile before placing his things against a wall. “Don’t tell me what?”

“Damn it!” Foggy cursed.

“You heard that?” Karen asked, shocked.

“Guy’s like a bat. Not blind like a… I mean, you know, with the hearing.”

“Bats aren’t blind, Foggy.” Matt says, his face becoming more business-like.

“They’re not?”

“It’s a myth.”

“If you really want to talk about great hearing, Moths supposedly have the best.” Kaila explains, using her school knowledge.

“So what, you’re dad’s mothman?” Foggy asked, actually intrigued. She shrugs. “Huh. So, we’re good, then?”

Kaila bit the inside of her cheek. Mentally slapping her Uncle on the head.

Damn it, Foggy. I was trying to steer you away from him. She watches her father turn on a bit of charm as he faces the other adult present in the room.

“Karen?” He says, almost sickening sweetly. She hums, trying to avoid eye contact in this trap. “What don’t the two of you want me to know?”

The blonde looks around, looking for an answer, or a way to get out of this. But the guilt only intensified when Foggy shook his head ‘No’.

She caved in.

“We’re investigating Union Allied.” Karen says, bowing her head.

“Remind me to keep you off the witness stand.” Foggy replies, sighing.

“You can’t be doing that.” Matt says, immediately.

“Why not?” Karen asked, defensively.

“For starters, you signed legal papers and took money to leave it alone.”

“No, I signed papers saying that I wouldn’t go public and I won’t.”

“We have someone lined up for that part.” Foggy chimes in.

Matt tilts his head, puzzled. “What part?” He asked, sensing the unnerving attention building up again.

“Breaking the story that, uh…” Karen sighs, realigning herself. “Look, whoever is behind Union Allied, or whatever they call themselves now, they are trying to strong-arm people like Elena so that they can sweep their homes away from them and build condos no one can afford–”

“And what do you think’s gonna happen when these ‘whoevers’ find out what it is you’re up to?” Matt asked, voice on the edge of irritation.

“We already took care of it.” Foggy replies, sensing this like everyone else.

“Took care of what?”

Karen bits her lip, shifting uncomfortably. “The… Uh, guys who busted up Elena’s apartment.” She says, feeling his surprised stare. “They, uh, came after me when I was leaving her place last night.”

His tense form slackened. “Are you okay?” Matt asked, concerned.

“Yes. Uh…” She gestures to her other friend. “Foggy was following me.”

He hums and faces his partner. “You were following–” His face dawned on realization. “Wait. You were following her?”

“Yeah.” Foggy says, with his hands.

“Last night?”

“Yes. Last night? When do you think?”

Matt frowns. “You were following Karen last night… with my daughter?” He heard everyone’s pulses pick up the pace, which was enough confirmation. “Oh my…” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Guys… Kai?”

Kaila stiffens. “Uh, well, we–”

“She had nothing to do with last night’s decision, okay?” Foggy cuts in, protectively. “That was all on me. If I had known we were going to get into some trouble I wouldn’t have dragged her along with me.”

“It’s not that, Foggy, but the fact that my child knows about some risky attempt at taking down a shady business before I do is what’s making me mad.” Matt explained his reasons. “I mean, what if this goes so much deeper than you expect, and now we all have targets on our backs? A school student has a target on her back with information she shouldn’t have.”

“Okay, then blame me, Matt. Blame me!” Karen says, guiltily. “Okay?! I’m sorry! I did not plan to get anyone involved. Especially her. It just kind of happened, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry.”

Kaila saw the unshed tears in her eyes, making her come out of her trance. “Dad, just… forget about me for a minute.” She says, tugging on his jacket sleeve. “Just… Can you guys just talk it out? Please?”

It took him a minute to cave in as well. A very long, hard minute to get his senses straightened, and to not see completely red. But here we are.

He sighs. “Who else is involved? Who’s helping you break whatever it is you think you’re gonna find out?”

“Ben Urich, from the Bulletin.” Karen replies.

“The one who wrote the Union Allied piece?”

“Karen’s been working with. He seems like a good guy.” Foggy backs up.

Matt chuckles dryly. “Yeah, everybody does, until they aren’t.”

“No, I trust Ben as much as I do you or Foggy, Matt.” Karen says, truthfully. “I know what I am doing. I am not some kid–”

“Then don’t act like one. Both of you. I know you’re just trying to do the right thing here, but we have to be smart about this.”

“We?” Foggy asked, perking up with excitement.

“First rule, no more skulking around, asking to get hurt. We do this, it’s gonna be on our turf. The legal system.”

“That’s not nearly as heroic as you think.” Karen says, crossing her arms.

“I don’t want anyone to be a hero, Karen I want you to be safe. And I want to protect this firm and everything we’re trying to build here. We know the law. We’ll use it to our advantage. Agreed?”

“Do we have a choice?” Foggy asked, already knowing the answer.

“Not so much.” Matt replies.

Karen takes in a breath. “Yeah. Okay. So, what’s the second rule?”

Matt clenches his jaw. “I don’t know, I’m making this up as I go along.”

And with those words, he was now wrapped up even more in this dangerous web of destruction.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“This is pointless, Matt.” Foggy said as they were well into the night. The three adults were surrounding the table that was lined with paper and their electronic devices. “We should be out on the streets, cracking names and taking skulls.”

“I think you have that backwards.” Karen points out.

“Not the way I do it.”

Matt laughs. “Five minutes out there and you’d be in intensive care.”

“Hey, I handled myself pretty damn skippy against baldy and his tattooed gorilla. Tell him, K.” Foggy says, looking in her direction.

“No, you did.” She says, before looking confused. “What? I’m… What, I’m ‘K’ now?”

He shrugs. “I’m trying something new.”

“Mmm… Don’t.”

“Wait, this is interesting.” Matt says, finding something intriguing after many hours of reading. “Confederated Global Investments.”

Foggy became puzzled, and a bit worried too at the fresh memory rolling in. “The company that hired us to defend that bowling alley nut?”

“Yeah. Karen, do you have a list of the subsidiaries you were able to track down through their check?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I think so.” She says, setting a file down to go for her computer. She quickly types something in, nodding as it makes a chiming sign. “Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

“Can you tell me if…” He reads something really quickly. “Westmeyer-Holt Contracting is on the list?”

“Um…” She scrolls through the page, tired eyes squinting at the tiny font. She soon smiles. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

“There are half a dozen complaints against them for doing the same thing they did at Elena’s tenement.”

“Confed Global’s trying to force renters out of tenements?” Foggy said, trying to piece this together.

“Wh-What about Elena’s landlord? That Tully guy?” Karen begins, also trying to put two and two together. “I mean, he’s gotta know something about this.”

“See if I can track him down.” Foggy says, making a move to get out of his chair.

“Use the phone.” Matt replies, sternly.

He sighs, plopping back down in his chair. “Oh, come on!”

“I’m making that rule number two.”

“Your rules suck. I want that on record.”

“Fine, noted.”

Karen’s smiling face soon lessened when something flashes across her screen. “Oh, my god.”

“What do you got?” Matt asked, looking her way.

“Uh, no, it’s not, um… the New York Bulletin online just reported that that cop that got shot, just regained consciousness.”

Matt feels his heart skip as he pulls his earbud out. “Detective Blake?”

“Yeah.”

“Guy’s a real dick.” Foggy says, shrugging. “Still, he didn’t deserve a bullet from that masked douchebag.”

“Okay.” She scoffs. “Nobody knows what really happened out there.”

“Detective Blake might.” Matt says, already getting an itch to get out of here.

“Be interested in what he has to say.” Foggy agrees.

“Yeah, so would I.”

They went for another hour before deciding to call it a night. They gathered their things, turning off the lights, and locking the windows. Karen left first, like usual, promising the boys she’s going straight home (which there was no lie there from what he could sense). Matt found himself by the chair his daughter was cuddled up in, fast asleep. He was debating with himself if he should wake her up or not.

Foggy paused at the door, staring at the sight. “Do… do you want me to carry her home for you?” He asks, sincerely.

“Um… no thanks. It’s fine.” Matt says, still a little annoyed by the incident last night. “I’ll just wake her.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. Night, Foggy.”

Foggy nods, opening the door with defeat. He pauses. “Hey, Matt?” He gets a hum as a reply. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

He closes the door soon enough, disappearing from his line of hearing in a matter of minutes. Matt sighs, slinging his bag over his body, and stuffing his cane into one of the pouches before gently shaking her awake.

“Hey, Hey. Kai?” He says, softly getting a groan. “Kai, get up. Let’s go home.”

Kaila groans again, slowly prying her groggy eyes open. “H-home?”

“Yeah.”

She blinks while unwinding herself. “What… what time is it?”

“Late.” His lips curve up a little. “I can give you a lift if you want to keep sleeping?”

She gives him a tired, confused look. “You’re going to get quite a few stares, you know?”

“It’s New York, no one will think of it.” He faces the opposite way. “Hop up.”

The young Murdock wastes no time to jump up on his back, locking her arms around him as he holds her up by her legs. She hums, closing her eyes again as she buries her head in the crook of his neck. Once he thought she was secure enough, they left. Miraculously, but not surprisingly, they got home in one piece, but Matt was unfortunately dreading the outcome of the arrival. His daughter was not fully asleep like he would’ve liked, because he knows as soon as she opens her eyes and takes a look at their place, he’s screwed.

Instead of just getting her to the bedroom, Kaila slid off as soon as they were through the front door, still a bit out of it, but aware enough to remove her shoes and leave her backpack. She makes a noise while she stretches her arms out, the mind fog starts to clear a little more.

“You going to shower?” Matt asked, setting his own stuff down.

“Eh, probably not. I’ll just take one before school tomorrow.” She says, smirking. “So it’s not going to be extremely warm when you come back from your nightly activities.”

“I think I can manage.” He says, hearing her journey towards the living room, stopping at the edge of it. He picks up on so many emotions right now, as her brown orbs meet his.

“What the hell happened?” She asked, worriedly. “Dad?”

“I…” He stops to think. How should he put this? “I… just met someone I knew a long time ago, and it didn’t go so well.”

“Well…” Kaila looks at the nonexistent coffee table, and then back at him. “W-Who?”

Matt swallows. “I… I rather not say. You know…” He sighs quietly, shifting weirdly as he walks where she is. “You know when I say there are things I’m going to keep from you, and there are things that I’m not?”

She nods. “Yeah. I remember.”

“Well… I think this… incident is gonna have to go into the first box. For now. I’m still…” Memories flash before him, making him want to scream. “Processing it.”

“Okay.” She shrugs. “That’s fine.” She then sighs, looking around again, seeing the damages down. “Umm…” She stares back at him. “Are you okay?”

He perks up at the change in direction. “Me?” he said, hearing her nodding. “Oh… I’m… I’m fine. I’m banged up a little, but I’m overall fine.”

“No, no, no. Are you okay?” She tries again, stepping closer. “Like… not physically, I mean, mentally, emotionally. Are you okay?”

Matt was taken back by this, baffled because he didn’t know how to respond. “I uh… I’m fine.” He could tell she didn’t believe him as she carefully took his glasses off his face, getting a good look.

“Are you? Because this goes both ways, dad. You can talk to me. I know something’s bothering you even before you found out about the whole Union Allied thing.” Kaila explains, worriedly. “Just talk to me.”

Matt’s heart stung at those words, because she sounded so genuine, desperate. But at last…

He couldn’t. He couldn’t dare speak of the demons he had inside him right now.

“I’ve got nothing.” He lies, reassuringly. “I just… can’t talk right now. However, depending on how these next few days go, I might need to.”

A lie. A white lie he tells himself. But she seems to believe him enough to drop it.

“Okay.” She says.

“Okay.” He kisses her forehead. “Go get some sleep. You’ve got school.”

“Alright. Are you sure you don’t want me to stay up to bandage you?”

“No. I think I’m just going to do a reconnaissance mission tonight.”

Kaila raises an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Alright. But you will wake me up if you get a serious injury, right?”

“Yes. I will. Promise.”

“Okay. I’ll see you when I get home.” She smiles, reaching up to give him a quick hug. “Love you. Night, dad.”

“Night.”

She exits the room slower than unusual, almost like she was waiting for a different reaction from him which he never gave.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The next two days were strange for the teenager. Although she hasn’t visited the office since then (she is starting to think her Father’s still mad about the whole incident and is making excuses for her not to come), she just has this gut feeling that things aren’t going as planned. Her father comes home more stressed than ever, and his job as a vigilante wasn’t helping either.

On the night she came back home from her intense day with Foggy/Karen, something happened with her Father’s reconnaissance mission, but he wouldn’t budge on why he was so pissed. So… when she saw that Detective Blake was found dead in his hospital room, all fingers were pointed at The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Of course, she knows he didn’t, but what could she do about it?

Then on the following night, her Father met with Ben Urich of the Bulletin. She tried to joke that maybe the devil shouldn’t be delivering news to a reporter, but that failed to make him laugh at all. So that’s when it dawns on her that something BIG is going on, something that’s making her Father’s blood boil, but wouldn’t dare share with her. It made her a little angry because she could see that something was eating away at him, and he’s just bottling it up (And she just wonders how long until the bottle overflows).

Now, on the next morning, she strolling into class, trying to clear her mind for a stupid test her history teacher has decided to prepare out of the blue. Luckily for her it seems like Mr. Dan’s running a bit behind, so all the kids had spare time to kill. The unlucky part of this…

Well…

If only the news wasn’t on.

She sets her bag down on her desk chair, eyes trailing to her neighbouring classmate. “What are you watching, Charles?” She asked, curiously.

The boy flashes her a quick glance. “Oh…” He sighs, and shrugs. “I heard the news was going to report about that Youtube hero, the… ‘Spider-Boy’, I think they’re calling him, but um, some fat guy is making an emergency broadcast before then. It’s weird. I don’t even know who this guy is.”

Kaila walks a bit closer, standing next to him, her eyes looking at the phone. She suddenly felt the air in her lungs get sucked away, her face growing a ghostly white. The caption: ‘WILSON FISK PLEDGES AID TO HELL’S KITCHEN’ was casted on the bottom of the screen, and above it was the man she’s heard of but never seen. An older, but broader, and sharply dressed. A man who looked like he had all the power without trying to look like he does.

A wolf in sheep's clothing.

[I’m not very good at this, out being in public–] He begins, looking nervous to be there, but holding up a good facade.

Oh no… She felt her chest tightening.

[But I felt the need to speak up for this city that I love with all my heart. No one should have to live in fear.]

The crowd applauded lightly.

[In fear of madmen… who have no regard for who they injure. In fear of the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, who has inflicted untold pain and suffering.]

Kaila clenched her fist, the underlying anger under her worriedness was shining through.

[This masked terrorist and psychopaths of his kind, we must show them that we will not bow down to their campaign of coercion and intimidation.]

More applause. Just more souls he’s manipulating.

[We must stand up to them. As this man, my dearest friend, Leland Owlsley, a pillar in the financial community, stood up when he was recently assaulted. But this assault was for no other reason than to send me a message.]

Kaila perks up this. Assault? By her father? He never told her that he was going after a businessman. And when exactly did he go after this guy?

[A message warning me to stop. To give up my dream that I have for this city. A dream of a better place. A place for its citizens to feel safe. To feel pride.]

She could hear people muttering in agreement, and shook her head.

No, no. If only you knew what he’s done. But again, would that be enough for people to reconsider.

[I tried to do this quietly, not wanting to draw attention. The last thing I wanted was for anyone close to me to become a target from those who do not share my dream.]

Dream? She mentally scoffs. Because what dream? The dream of destruction and blood stained sidewalks? What was this big ‘dream’ of his?

[For those who will have this city stay exactly as it is, mired in poverty and crime. But I know now it was foolish to make that decision. That I can no longer do it alone. That I cannot keep living in the shadows… afraid of the light.]

Shit, shit, shit… She bit her lip, waiting for his closing statement that would win everyone over.

[None of us can. None of us should be forced to. We must do this together. We must resist those who would have us live in fear.]

More clapping and nods of approval from the crowd off camera.

[My name…]

He looks directly at the camera, a silent message to tell that anyone gutting for him will pay the price.

It was chilling.

[Is Wilson Fisk. And together, we can make this city a better place.]

The crowd burst into cheering, and Kaila felt the rest of the world fade away. He just declared war without even saying it. He had just challenged everyone who hated him to come fight. He was ready to spill blood without lifting a single finger.

Oh, dad. What are you going to do now?

As Kaila ponders the question, somewhere on the other side of the city, her father lets out a frustrated scream before throwing his laptop onto the floor.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“This doesn’t change anything, Ben.” Karen says, trying to sound reassuring. Her, and everyone she knew, morning’s weren’t going as expected. And she can thank Wilson Fisk for that.

“Except now we know who your king of diamonds is.” Foggy adds as an attempt to lift their spirits, but that didn’t help the journalist at all.

“You see the news? Everything’s changed.” Ben said, handing her today’s newspaper (which was a shot of City Hall’s big speech). “Fisk has gotten out in front of being dragged into the spotlight. My editor thinks he’s the Second Coming. Hell, the whole city does.”

Karen shakes her head. “So, w-we just— we just keep digging.”

“I’ve been doing that. Internet went from nothing on Fisk to filled with three-hanky stories about a poor little fat kid from Hell’s Kitchen.” Ben explains. “Abandoned by his father when he was 12. Mother died a year later. Now look at him. Boot straps and a big dream.”

“Somebody knows something.” Foggy replies, determinedly. “It’s just a matter of asking the right questions in the right tone of voice.”

“Yeah, that’s how you get yourself hurt.”

The door opens to a not-so-happy Matt Murdock. The confession session he had with Father Lantom couldn’t ease the troubles he was feeling. In fact… he felt a little more scared worse than he should be.

“That’s what I keep telling them.” He says, closing the door. “Maybe they’ll listen to you.”

“Ben Urich, Matt Murdock. Attorney at Why the Hell Bother.” Karen pointed out, irritated at the whole thing.

Ben stuck his hand out, which took a moment for a shake. “Mr. Murdock. So you're the one with the Daughter. She looks exactly like you."

“Matt's fine. And so everyone tells me.” He flashes a rather quick smile.

“My partner thinks we should be pursuing this through the legal system.” Foggy explains.

“A lot safer that way.” Ben agrees.

“Well, why don’t we all just crawl under the covers, then?” Karen said, slamming the newspaper onto her desk.

Matt frowns. “No, Karen–”

“Well, I’m sorry, but if Fisk is really behind everything that has happened, then we need to do something.”

“If we were the only ones after him, I’d tend to agree.” Ben said, bittersweetly. “Friend of yours came to see me the other night… The Man in the Mask.”

“Terrorist cop-killer.” Foggy said, oblivious to Matt wandering off to his own office.

“Says he was framed.”

“I could say I’m Captain America, but it doesn’t put wings on my head.”

“What did he want?” Karen asked, intrigued.

“Same thing we do… expose Fisk.” Ben replies, pulling out a stack of paper from his bag, handing them over. “I printed this from a thumb drive he gave me.”

Her eyes widened as she read the first few paragraphs. “Oh my god.”

“Told me Fisk was behind the bombings and shooting those cops… said he owns half the police… that they helped him take down the Russians.”

“But I don’t understand. If you have all of this, then–”

“Hearsay. Can’t print any of it without corroboration, can you?” Matt asked, from the doorframe.

“He could just be throwing smoke.” Foggy said, still on the fence. “I mean, he just killed Detective Blake.”

“Said Blake’s partner Hoffman did it, probably on Fisk’s orders. But yeah, it occurred to me.” Ben says, on the fence too.

“You could talk to Hoffman.” Matt suggests, hoping to get something useful for later’s night out.

“Tried. He’s in the wind. Or bottom of the river. Either way…” He shrugs defeatedly.

“He just shrugged.” Foggy says to his friend.

“Sorry.”

“Wait, what about the Union Allied money? Is there a way that we can tie it directly to Fisk?” Karen asked, determinedly.

“Maybe. According to the Mask, a man named, uh, Leland Owlsley runs the books. But since getting roughed up by him, Owlsley’s been surrounded by Fisk’s security. Can’t get anywhere near him.” Ben explains carefully (mostly directed at Karen at this point). “Same goes with, uh, James Wesley, the guy you said hired you to defend Healy.”

“Look, the Mask came to Ben for help. And I don’t care how rich Fisk is, nobody can totally erase their past.” Karen said, those words holding a heavy meaning for her. “I mean, somewhere out there, there has to be a piece of paper, a witness… the truth.”

“What about Confederated Global?” Foggy says, wheels turning now. “The suit that hired us to defend Healy standing right next to Fisk when he gave his big speech.”

Ben scratches his chin, also thinking. “I looked into that. According to FCC filings, Confed Global’s where Fisk gets most of his reported income.”

“Alright, let’s play this out.” Matt said, eager by this new information. “If Fisk is connected to Confed Global, that means he’s involved in Westmeyer-Holt Contracting, which–”

“Westmeyer-Holt is strong-arming tenants out of their rent-controlled apartments.” Karen clarifies for her mentor. “Um, they were hired by a guy named Armand Tully.”

“The slumlord?” Ben asked, surprised.

“Landman and Zack say he’s on vacation on an island that no one can pronounce, where they use coconuts as phones.” Foggy replies, making everyone chuckle at that (leave it up to Nelson to get the good mood going).

“Another connection in the wind.”

“Westmeyer-Holt to Confed to Fisk. We pull that thread, see what it unravels.” Matt finishes.

“Still not sure about this mask guy.” Foggy adds, back to being skeptical.

“He didn’t hurt Ben, and he didn’t hurt me. I-I’ll take the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen over Fisk any day. Plus, he kicks ass.” Karen says, earning a few stares (but missing the blind man’s grin). “No, you should’ve seen the way that he was flipping around in the rain.”

“Well, if he’s such a badass, why did he come to Ben? Why not just take Fisk down himself?”

“Maybe he knows there’s some roads you can’t come back from.” Ben said, frowning.

His words linger in the air heavily.

It took Matt a lot of strength not to look at hands, wondering what they’ll be like when he's done with Fisk.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Kaila hugged herself as she walked down the sidewalk. Everything just felt so… wrong. All day she heard the whispers of the teachers, and even some of the students, about praising Fisk and damning the Devil. It was like worshiping God and spitting on Lucifer. It was sickening.

She swallows upon walking up the two steps, wondering if her father could already hear as–

“¿Oh, Estoy en el edificio equivocado otra vez?” Someone said, sighing (*Oh, am I in the wrong building again?).

Kaila turns around, seeing an elderly woman clenching her purse with confusion. The woman looked the building up and down, her face puzzling again.

“Um…” Kaila said, waving a little to get her attention. “¿Qué estás buscando?” (*What are you looking for?)

The woman’s face lights up. “Estoy buscando… uh..” She looks like she’s struggling with the words (*I’m looking for…). “Señor Foggy y Murdock office…”

“Uh… Sí, Sí. Este es el edificio correcto.” (*Yes, Yes. This is the correct building.)

She gasps with relief. “Para que mis ojos no me engañen. Simplemente no esperaba una niña aquí.” She says, chuckling (*So my eyes do not deceive me. I just wasn’t expecting a child here).

Then there’s a bit of confusion again, along with concern. “¿Y quien eres tu?” She asked (*And who are you?).

Kaila smiled softly. “Soy la hija de Matt Murdock.” She replies, gesturing to herself (*I’m the daughter of Matt Murdock).

“La hija del Señor Murdock?”

“Sí.”

“So…” The woman looked confused again, but also a little hopeful looking. “¿La Señora Karen es tu madre?” (*Is Ms. Karen your mother?)

Kaila’s eyes widened at that. “¿Mi madre?”

The woman nods, smiling brighter. “Sí. Sí. Ambos comparten estos ojos bonitos y curiosos.” (*Yes. Yes. You both have these pretty and curious eyes.)

Kaila chuckles nervously, shifting in her place as a heaviness falls upon her chest. I mean…

How does she respond to that?

The young girl brushes some of her loose hair behind her ear, thinking on the fly. “I mean, I… I wish she was… I mean! No! I-I… I mean…” She sighs, her heart beating in her ears. “Um… No. Ella es solo una amiga.” (*No. She is only a friend.)

And why did that hurt so much to say? The thought crossed her mind heavily, leaving her to feel… confused.

But she just smiles and shakes it off. “Lo siento. ¡Vamos! Por favor.” Kaila opens the door, letting her inside (*Sorry. Let’s go! Please).

She lets out a sigh before following. Time kind of faded away as the woman knocked on the office door, and waited for a bubbly, familiar face.

“Buenos Días.” The woman greeted.

“Ah, Hola, Señora Cardenas.” Foggy said, holding the door open. His face became bewildered upon seeing the young girl. He raised an eyebrow while closing the door. “K-Pop?”

“What are you doing here?” Matt asked, just as confused.

“Uh… It was a half-day.” Kaila said, hugging herself again. “Um… can we talk after this is done?”

He frowned at the way she sounded, and nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Of course.”

Foggy tries to get things going with his client, turning on the charm again. “Uh… ¿Dónde está la biblioteca?” He asked, earning a few chuckles.

“You just asked her where the library is.” Matt points out, before listening to Karen and Elena talk; Translating. “They doubled the offer to get the tenants to move out.”

Elena spoke quickly, bitterly, making Karen sigh.

“Oh, damn it.” She says, frowning.

“What?” Foggy asked, worriedly.

“Her neighbours are thinking about taking it.”

“Maybe they should.” Matt says, getting shocked faces.

“No! Tell her to stand firm.” Foggy jumps in. “We told her we’re gonna help her and that’s what we’re gonna do.”

Karen nods, replying with urgency, which made the elderly woman proud.

Elena faces Foggy. “Such a good boy.” She replies, then tells Karen something.

The blonde smiled joyfully at the news. “She thinks she can change their minds. Enough of them maybe to make a difference.”

Elena shakes her head, angry at her landlord. “I no take. This my home. We fight, yes?”

“Yes, Sí.” Foggy says, giving her a thumbs up which made her laugh again.

“He is good man. All of you… good.” She looks in Matt’s direction. “Señor Murdock, tiene una hija tan buena. Muy buena.” (*Mr. Murdock, you have such a good daughter. Very good.)

He gives her a warm expression. “Muchas gracias.”

Elena nods, and starts heading out, but pats the teenager on the shoulder, saying, “Sé una buena chica y cuídate. ‘Kay?” (*Be a good girl and take care of yourself. Okay?)

Kaila chuckled, cheeks flushing. “Sí. Prometo.” (*Yes. I promise.)

The woman leaves, but the tension between the three workers stays, the teenager casted aside for a moment.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” Matt says, immediately.

“What? Fight for the rights of the little guy, right?” Foggy said.

“Fisk wants the tenements, he’s not gonna stop until he gets them.”

“Well, so what? We’re just supposed to roll over?” Karen said, getting annoyed again.

“Fisk is public with this.” Foggy points out. “If we tie him up with an injunction, maybe we find something in the deposition that we–”

“Oh, come on, Foggy, you think we’re gonna trip this guy with a deposition? After everything that’s happened, you don’t get who we’re dealing with?” Matt replies, frustratedly.

“No, we get it, Matt, he’s a rich dickhead who thinks he can pay people off to kiss his ass.” Karen fires back, snatching the newspaper off her desk, fiercely showing it off. “Look, he is standing on City Hall with his cronies like he’s already won.”

Foggy’s shoulder sag, giving her a sad look. “You know he can’t see that.”

“Alright–” She throws it back on her desk. “We can’t let him get away with this.”

Matt nods. “I know.”

“So, what are we gonna do?” Foggy asked the million dollar question.

The blind man sighs, quickly conjuring something up. “Basic tent of both law and war, know your enemy.” He says, going into his office.

“Thank you, Sun Tzu. What does that actually mean?”

“It means we keep digging.” Matt continues, sliding on his jacket. “Like Karen said, somewhere out there, there’s a piece of paper or a witness, or something that’ll lead to the truth.”

“Okay, good.” Karen said, smiling.

“But, do it quietly. Stay under the radar.” He finishes, as he grabs his walking stick.

Foggy raised an eyebrow. “Where are you going?”

“Three people stood with Fisk when he addressed the city. His man from Confed Global, Owlsley and a woman. One the press said he seemed close with.”

“Oh, yeah, uh, Vanessa, um….” Karen stutters, grabbing the paper again. “Marianna. It says she works at Scene Contempo Gallery.”

“Maybe it’s time I invested in some art.” He jokes, opening the door.

“Um, Dad?” Kaila announces, coming out of the kitchenette (feeling the surprised and forgetful stares from the adults). “Can we talk real quick?”

“Um…” Matt says, mentally slapping himself out of the shock. “Yeah. Yeah. Come on.”

He gestures for her to step into the hallway, which she did as he could feel his friends giving him wishful, ‘goodluck’, faces. He closes the door behind him, both of them taking a few steps away for a bit more privacy.

She hugs herself again, looking down. “You guys forgot.”

He shakes his head. “No, um… we just…”

Kaila sighs. “I-It’s f-fine. Seriously. I guess we both are having an eventful day.”

Matt perks up at that, worriedly. “What do you mean?”

Another sigh. “I’m…” She shifts uncomfortably, looking at him now. “I’m worried. Like really worried about this whole Fisk thing. I mean, I saw the news this morning, and between that and all the other stuff you shared about this guy with me makes everything worse. I mean–”

She starts talking with her hands, continuing, “Y-You know I’m not the religious type and even I know when someone is talking about a second coming. I mean, all my teachers, ALL of them, believe this guy is a second coming of Christ. I wouldn’t even be the least bit surprised if they thought Fisk could turn water into wine. The things they’re saying are concerning, Dad.”

Matt bite the inside of his cheek.

Shit. He cursed, running his free hand through his hair. The corruption was worse than he thought.

“I know, I know. I know, Kai.” He says, trying to sound reassuring.

“And… now you all are officially going after him with the firm?” She asked, her heart picking up speed. “Are you– this is…”

“Hey, hey, hey. Take it easy.” He takes her by the shoulder. “We’re being careful. We’re not going in guns blazing with this.”

She frowns. “It sure feels like it. I mean what if this Vanessa woman is dangerous and you don’t know it?”

“Well, that’s unfortunately the risk I have to take, Kai.” Matt says, sensing something else. “Hey. What else is bothering you?”

She looks away, shaking her head. “N-Nothing…”

“Kai-”

“I’m fine, just… It’s fine.” She stuffs her hands inside her, trying to cool the feelings swirling inside. “C-Can I… I walk with you to the art gallery?” He opens his mouth to protest, but- “I can wait outside, I just… I want to stay with you. Please?”

He ponders, debating if this was a good idea. On one hand, he could leave her here in the office, but she’ll probably end up alone when Foggy and Karen go after leads, so there’s that. And on the other, he wants to send her home, but the uneasiness in her voice was tugging at him. There was something else besides Fisk that was bothering her, and it was eating at her (Kind of father like daughter there).

He gives in eventually, just because she needed him close.

“Okay. Let’s go then.”

Back on the road, arms locked to not draw suspicion. It wasn’t going to take too long, the crowds weren’t so bad, but the two Murdocks were unknowingly dragging their feet for two different reasons that the two of them didn’t want to share completely.

“Hey, Dad?” Kaila asked, after they crossed an intersection, the gallery was coming up.

“Yeah?” He said, listening.

“Um… how do you feel about Karen?”

Matt looks her way, taken back by her question. “How do I feel about Karen?”

“Yeah.”

Well that’s an odd question. “Why do you ask?”

“Um, You know…” She half shrugs. “You’ve only known her a few months, and I already know how Foggy feels about her, so I thought I asked how you feel about her. You know, since you guys hired her for extra help, and I’m not always there to see so… yeah.”

Odd. Again. Matt found it rather strange.

She’s not telling me something.

“Um.” He begins. “I… I like her a lot. She’s helpful around the office, smart, funny. Uh… caring. Really caring. Um… She’s reckless sometimes, which drives me crazy sometimes, but I admire her ambition.” He chuckles fondly. “What else? Uh… sorry, why are you asking again? Did something happen between the two of you?”

Kaila’s cheeks flushed again. “Uh, well, Um… Hey!” She halts the both of them to a quick stop. “W-we’re here! We’re here. Yay.”

Matt wanted to keep prying, but unfortunately his investigation came first as he quickly picked up some interesting chatter over security’s intercoms. That got him worried. An art gallery this small shouldn’t be getting this much security.

So Fisk really cares about someone. He comes to realize.

“So I’ll wait here. You do your thing.” She finishes, patting him on the arm before letting go.

“Actually-” He says, pulling her back. “I would feel more comfortable if you’d follow me.”

“But-”

“Just… Help me out. Okay?” He gives her arm a squeeze when he hears her inhale sharply. “It’ll be fine. Besides–” He grins. “Most women like children.”

She snorts. “Okay. I suppose I’ll be your… Wingchild…?” She practically winced at her wording. “Okay, that was corny…”

“It was.” He says, patting her arm and stringing her along.

They made their way inside, acting as casually as they could, while Matt continued listening. He hears more chattering, and even the sound of guns brushing against the security guards’ sides every time they move. It was a bit unsettling. It made him grip his cane a little bit tighter, almost feeling like he might use it to defend himself and Kaila.

“May I help you?” A woman called out, coming over.

“I hope so. Um, Matthew.” Matt said, holding out his hand.

She shook it politely. “Vanessa.” She smiles, eyes trailing somewhere else. “And you are?”

Kaila returns the expression. “Kaila.”

“What a lovely name.”

“Likewise.”

Matt plays along with the vibe. “Well, Ms. Vanessa, you’re probably wondering what a man who can’t see is doing in an art gallery.”

Vanessa laughs at his attempt at humor, while not sounding rude. “I didn’t want to be forward.”

He hums. “I’m told by my guests my apartment’s a bit stark. I thought maybe some art would warm it up.”

“I’m going to go out on a limb and assume these ‘guests’ were women?”

Kaila tried not to wince at her father’s fake laughter. It was just so… cringy.

“Well, I’m not trying to impress the pizza guy.” He replies, flashing his pearly whites.

“He’s trying to keep this girl he likes around.” Kaila adds, chirpy. “It’s sweet.”

“It is.” Vanessa agrees, nodding. “You don’t need sight to appreciate art, but you do need honesty.”

“Sight helps.” Matt says, witty.

“Sure, But–” She touches his shoulder, guiding them along. “There’s something very intimate in experiencing art through someone else’s eyes. That’s a good line, by the way. You should use it.”

A chuckle. “I might.”

“So, give me an idea of what you’re after.”

“I am not sure.”

“Good… art isn’t furniture. If you knew exactly what you were looking for, you’d be just decorating. Art should speak to you… move you. This one, for example–” She moves them to a display. “One of my favorite pieces.”

Kaila frowns, keeping her mouth shut as she elbows her father to get him to keep talking.

“Describe it for me.” He finally says, sweetly.

“Imagine a sea of tonal reds.” Vanessa begins. “The color of anger… of rage… but also the color of the heart. Of love… hope. This strikes the perfect balance between the two.”

“Huh.” Kaila says, almost captivated by its appearance. “It’s… interesting. Definitely would add some color to the place.”

“I don’t know, it sounds aggressive.” Matt expresses.

“All depends on your point of view.” Vanessa says, intrigued by both of their opinions.

“Maybe something a little less challenging.” Matt replies, going in for the kill. “Tell me, do you have a man in your life?”

Kaila rolls her eyes, going along with it. “Oh, dad…”

“Matthew, are you hitting on me?” Vanessa teased.

He chuckles. “No, I just mean, what does he like? What does he respond to?” He asked, sensing her blushing. “If I can get inside the head of the man who won the heart of such a charming woman, it would inform my decision.”

“Well… you could always ask him yourself.”

The two Murdocks’ blood ran cold.

Hearts stopping.

Eyes widening.

It was like time froze as the man entered, causing a stir inside them.

Matt clenched his fist angrily, almost ready to lunge and attack until he felt his daughter’s grip on him got stronger. He could feel the slightest tremble in her body, her pulse racing, and the salt forming in her eyes.

Shit.

This is how it was not how it was supposed to go. They were not supposed to run into him. The enemy. The lying snake.

The devil.

He spares his daughter a glance, whispering, “I’m sorry.” Which got her frightened attention.

“-I see.” Fisk said, giving his lover a kiss on the cheek.

“Wilson Fisk, Matthew…” Vanessa starts introducing.

“Murdock.” Matt finishes, straightening up and giving the man a handshake.

“Oh, yes, the attorney. I’ve heard about all your work in Hell’s Kitchen.” Fisk said, making him run cold again.

“Huh.” He wasn’t expecting that response either. “I’m aware of yours as well.”

Vanessa seemed oblivious to her client’s discomfort, and carried on. “Mr. Murdock is thinking of purchasing some art with his…” She pauses, and nervously chuckles. “I’m sorry. I never asked. This is your daughter, I’m presuming. Yes?”

“Well, I would hope so.” Fisk said, with a smile that would set anyone on edge. “She looks so much like you.”

“Um…” Kaila tries to wipe the nerves off her features. “Y-Yeah. I am. I’m…” She holds her hand out too. “Kaila.”

He shakes her hand. “Kaila Murdock.” Fisk tests it out. “You’ve got a lot… history in a name like that.”

“I… suppose so.”

He hums, and faces her father again. “So, Mr. Murdock, you’re looking to buy some art?”

“He was looking for some advice from a man of taste.” Vanessa explains, simply.

“Well, that’s simple. Buy whatever the lady tells you.” He responds, getting her to laugh.

Matt musters up the strength to smile. “Thank you. Although we probably shouldn’t be talking. I believe we’re on opposite sides of a tenancy case.”

“Oh, you are?” Vanessa asked, intrigued.

“Yes. The rental properties I recently acquired from Mr. Tully. But I’m sure that will be settled to everyone’s benefit. The city has suffered long enough under the burden of poverty and decay.” Fisk said, his voice smooth and hitting the right emotions in everyone. “I believe we have opportunities now with–”

“Wilson–” Vanessa says, getting his attention. “Mr. Murdock is a customer, not a donor.”

“Yes, I apologize for the hard sell. This city and its future… seeing Hell’s Kitchen to its fullest potential is very important to me.”

“I feel the same way.” Matt said, through his teeth. “Vanessa, Thank you so much for your time.” He pulls himself and his daughter away, feeling the man’s heavy gaze follow the move.

“Have you changed your mind about what you came for?” Vanessa asked, puzzled by his sudden exit.

“No, No, I would just need to consider the cost.” He nods his head to the man. “Mr. Fisk.”

And when they both left, it was like a breath of fresh air. Both felt like their knees of jelly would break, and they would crumble to the ground. It took a few moments to gather themselves, or at least somewhat gathered themselves, whole.

“G-Go home.” Matt finally says, hating the tiny tremble in his voice.

Kaila looked shocked, pupils blown wide. “What?”

“Go home. Please.” He pulls himself away from her, already starting to walk the opposite direction. “I need to make a quick stop, and then I’ll come home.”

“But, Dad-”

“Kai, please.” He stops to look at her. “Go home.”

And without anything else said, he parted away, thinking it would be better for her to stay away from him and his burdens. However, it was quite the opposite. All she really needed, and wanted, was some tough love and a blissful hug she'll never receive.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The rest of the day was rough, awkward. Quiet. The two of them barely muttered more than a few words at a time before calling it night. Same thing in the morning, heading off in different directions for school and work, both unaware of the drama that was going to happen in these 24 hours.

Kaila came straight home to silence. Did chores in silence. Kept herself occupied with silence. Her mind raced with thoughts that were both good and bad.

She was so out of it, she barely heard the noise coming from her living room. She ventures out there, finding her dad pacing in front of his open wardrobe, the chest where his makeshift suit was was taunting him.

“Dad?” She said, making him freeze. She caught him off guard, which makes her wonder how clouded his mind was today. “You’re back late.”

It was a little unnerving how long he just stared, saying nothing too as she waited for something, anything as the seconds passed rather fast. However before she could even blink, he was latching his arms around her in a giant hug. He closes his eyes, taking her in piece-by-piece. He soaked in the warmth knowing that she was safe from the hell outside. Kaila, who was baffled by his sudden affectionate state, found herself giving her father an odd look.

“Dad? Are you okay?” She asked, worriedly. Alcohol soon hits her nose hard, scrunching up from it. “You smell like a bar.” Silence. Her heart picks up. “Dad?”

He squeezed her tighter. “She’s gone.”

And she dares to ask, “Who’s gone?”

“Ms. Cardenas. They called us down to the station, someone got to her, probably someone Fisk hired. She’s gone.” He nervously laughs. “She’s really gone…”

Kaila felt her heart clenched for the woman she only met once, but had an impact on her. It hurt even worse to hear her dad so close to the crumbling edge, ready to fall or dive.

She frowns, dolefully. “Dad–”

“Sorry, I just… really need to hug you.” He whispers, quivering in his understone. He sounded so scared. Something that was rare for him to express or to even admit to a degree.

He was ready to dive over the edge.

Her frowns deepen. “Okay–” She begins, pulling back just enough to get a good look at him. “What’s going through your head? Something’s eating at you, and I can see it.”

He shakes his head. “Kai-”

“No. Don’t shut me down. I know you’re angry, but you can’t go out there like that or you’re going to make mistakes. So please…” She takes his hands, giving them a gentle, but tight, squeeze. “Talk to me.”

Matt lets his distant gaze fall to the floor, almost too ashamed to even look her way. Was he really about to confess to everything that’s sinking him into the abyss? Was he about to lay his burdens on a fourteen year old?

He exhales shakily, swallowing heavily. “These… past few days have been horrible. I’ve been… dealing with so many things at once I feel like I’m drowning sometimes. And there are things I… I can’t bare myself to tell you because you’re not ready for them, but, um, I just…”

He pauses, not realizing he was shaking until he felt her hands squeeze his again; Calming him. He sighs quietly, regathering his point.

“I know you don’t… believe in the things I do, but I come to realize that… the devil walks among us.” Matt says, his blood started to turn hot while thinking about it. “Wearing… a fancy suit, and living the high life. That’s the devil, and I know it. I know it. And…”

Now it was his turn to grip back, like he was trying to ground himself for these next few sentences.

“The more I see what he’s done, the more I hear about it, the angrier I get. And-And when… we met him yesterday, I could tell how scared you were, how scared I was, it made me angier and I…” He sighs again, head hanging low. “What if I… how would you feel… if I made him go away… p-permanently?”

Her face morphs into shock for a split second, before turning into concern. Another gentle squeeze back as she says, “How would you feel?”

Matt shakes his head. “No, no. I asked you—”

“I know you did, but this isn’t about me. This isn't my decision, Dad. It’s yours.” Kaila says carefully, making sure he understands. “How would you feel if you took his life?”

“I…” His lips pursed. “I don’t know…”

“Well I can tell you that you’ll always think about it. That’s just how you are. But…” It was her turn to sigh. “Okay, let’s look at it this way, So let’s say there’s no consequences to it. Meaning, if you do it, you won’t be arrested or trialed or anything. Let’s forget about that. So let’s say you do it, there are ‘probable’ ways you’ll feel about this.

“On one hand you’ll… feel relieved. Happy. Not a second thought about it. You go home, and you go along like it was a normal day for you. Or on the other hand, you might feel relieved, maybe happy, but guilty. Guilty. And that’ll eat at you even when you push it away deep down, and that will haunt you for the rest of your life. Maybe even get yourself an early death if you know what I mean. So the real question is, Dad–”

She places her hand over his heart. “Which one will make you feel more human?”

And that hit like a bus.

He soaked up every word she said, all taking it to heart. Because–

Damn it. He cursed. He was damned with confusion and pain. What should he do in a dangerous game he’s playing with Fisk? What was logical? Or better yet…

What was logical for himself?

He sighs, closing his eyes. “I still have to go look for him…”

“I know you do. That’s okay.” Kaila said, removing her hand. “Go do what you think you have to do.”

He listens to that, and quickly changes his clothes, sliding the mask on last. This feeling of changing into another version of himself felt different tonight. A different way that he didn’t know what it meant yet.

“Just be careful, please. Try to come home in one piece.” She replies, with a ghost of a smile.

“I will.” He says, taking her face in hands and placing a kiss on her head. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Matt leaves his usual way out the window, leaving his daughter to stay awake for his return; Just in case something goes horribly wrong…

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

When Kaila heard a loud crash, she immediately sprung up from her position on the couch, setting her phone and earbuds aside. She realized the sound was coming from her father’s room, and grew worried (Memories of the first time she found out about him being a vigilante started to flash across her very eyes).

“Shit…” She mumbled, speed walking into his room. The door was still busted, all she had to do was walk around it to get inside. “Dad? What happened this time? How bad are you…”

She felt herself grow white.

The man in black was barely panting, despite looking like he ran for miles without ever stopping. His clothes were soaking wet, but the blood was still there, caking his scarred skin. There were large, long gashes all over his body, ripping through the fabric of his sweater. The room was so quiet, all you could hear was the dripping of blood and water. Then he tried to move, which resulted in a painful groan.

“No, no, no, no, no, no.” Kaila said frantically, rushing over. Her hands were firmly placed on his chest, getting bathed in red, as she tried to keep him from moving. “Y-You st-stay right here. Do not move. I-I’ll get the first aid kit!”

He feels her hands move away, and croaks, “K-kai…”

“Don’t move! Stay with me, damn it! I swear to God!”

She prays he’ll listen as she runs into the bathroom, completely incoherent to the banging at her front door. She rips open the cabinet door, frantically grabbing things she needs. Then—

She heard another crash.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” She says, picking up the speed, already picturing the scene of her father bleeding out again.

With things piled in her arms, she rushes out of the bathroom, only to be surprised at what she finds, other than her dad passed out on the living floor.

“F-Foggy?” She says, trembling.

His head snaps towards her way, pale as she was, scared too. But also… so, so disoriented. She sees his hand hovering over her father’s bruised face, his mask pulled back to reveal it fully.

He knows. Foggy knows. She tells herself, not knowing what to say.

He blinks a few times, like he was checking if she was real. “Kaila?” He said, and started looking between the two. “What… What is… H-How…?”

She saw him starting to have a mini panic attack, and started shaking her head. “F-Foggy. Foggy l-look…” She begins, setting the things aside and coming his way. She makes sure she has his attention. “Look at me. I-I know this looks bad, and I-I promise I-I’ll explain everything afterwards, b-but you have to help me.”

He looks torn between two worlds, his gaze going back and forth again with disbelief. And even though he wanted to just stare at his friend, his niece was always bringing him back.

“Foggy! Please! Please. I’m begging you. Please.” Kaila pleads, tears in eyes. “Please, help me. Please.”

Foggy looked at Matt again, it was almost less painful to look at him then a crying child. But still… They were both so chilling to see. His exhales was rigid, as he blink away the salt building his eyes, before locking eyes with her, saying,

“Give me the first aid kit.”

A/N: This was the hardest one for me to write so far. So hopefully I did alright :)

-Taglist is open if anyone wants to join-

@stinkywhore @invinciblerikkai @glass-ghost

@your-not-invisible-to-me @ohtacosindrome

@mirkwoodshewolf @dreamscandys

@omniromanticbitch @987coley

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 3 years

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The Long Con Part Five

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Notes: I hope y’all had a good week! 💕 Warnings: This is almost purely fluff. There’s some angst in there, but it’s just, like...A speck. And it’s covered over by fluff. Also I’ve never been to Austin, I did a lot of Googling for this bit, so if any of it is inaccurate, I’m sorry!! It seems like such a cool town and I don’t wanna do it a disservice! Lastly, I linked the museum and the art pieces mentioned in the chapter at the end of the chapter, under the tags. Summary: You’d stayed behind to get ready— but you didn’t know what exactly what you were be getting ready for.

While you and Marcus would be helping Marnie and the family out with wedding prep during the week, they didn’t have anything in particular scheduled for that day. After he’d had his breakfast, Marcus had showered, gotten dressed, and left to get the car that he’d rented for two of you to use that week. You’d stayed behind to get ready— but you didn’t know what exactly what you were be getting ready for. “I wanna show you around while we’ve got some time,” Marcus had told you between stealing sips of your coffee (which were solely permitted because the two of you were pretending to be together - if this had been under any other circumstance, he would not have gotten away with a single sip. His parents had found it adorable. You had found it a loss of coffee).

You dressed in casual clothing, things that you knew you’d have no trouble walking around in for the day. Marcus honked twice once he was outside in the rental, and you bid quick goodbyes to his family.

-- “So,” Marcus glanced over at you from behind the dark lenses of his aviator sunglasses, “We have a few options-- well, we’ve got a ton, but, I was thinking we could take a tour of the Capitol building, and check out the Harry Ransom Center -- it’s this massive archive and library. There are a few places we could hit for lunch, and then… I don’t know, the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center? And I thought we could finish with the Blanton Museum of Art?... Or is that, like, a no, since we’re both kinda around art all the time?” You watched him for a few moments, stunned. He’d clearly gone out of his way to think about what you’d like to do -- places that he knew and that you would like. He wanted you to have fun, and time out of the house - away from his family. Marcus was taking you out and about like… Like he probably would a real girlfriend. “That all sounds really awesome,” You admitted softly. Marcus grinned at you, and you settled back in your seat, facing forward again. -- Conversation came as easily as it had when you were in D.C. Marcus dropped the odd fact about Austin now and again (though it was nothing near his panicked post-flight info-dump), pointed out his old haunts, told you about his and Marnie’s childhoods. Even without his family around, you found that the two of you kept close. You reached for one another’s hands; Marcus drew you into his side when you were in crowded places; even when there was plenty of room, Marcus’ hand was on your shoulder, or your back. The contact was comforting; it didn’t feel forced. You found yourselves strolling through the Blanton with your fingers intertwined, speaking in hushed tones so as not to disturb the patrons around you. It was where the two of you wound up spending most of your day, discussing Fogel’s Conflict and Kern’s The Adoration of the Magi and Dorigny’s Diana of the Hunt. When you drifted into the Klimt pieces on loan from the Belvedere Museum in Vienna, and the two of you stopped in front of The Kiss, Marcus cupped your chin and leaned down, pecking the corner of your lips. You couldn’t help the stupid grin that took over your face, and you leaned into him, turning your head and hiding your face in his shoulder.

He just curled an arm around you, smoothing a thumb along your side as you let your sheepishness run its course. You turned your head as it ebbed away, finally, taking in the intertwined lovers, robed in gold and adorned with flowers.

“Okay, this… Is stupidly cool,” You admitted, looking around. “I was a little worried that you were going to stop at ‘stupid’.” “No!” You laughed, “I’ve never been anywhere like this.” Marcus had brought you to a bar with an arcade in Southern Congress for dinner. The two of you had ordered dinner and were looking for a few games to play before the food arrived. “They’ve got a little bit of everything. Pinball, Pac-man, Tron, Skeeball,” Marcus listed off. “Galaga?” “They’ve got Galaga.” “Perfect.” Marcus was exceptional at Pac-man and pinball, but you learned that you had the upper hand when it came to air hockey. You managed to play two games of it (both of which you won) before the food came. “Today has all been insanely awesome,” You told him after you’d polished off your pizza, “Thank you. I mean-- Seriously, you didn’t have to do this.” “I didn’t want you feeling like we were stuck at my family’s place all week, and...I mean I know we’re down here for Marnie, but you said you’d never been to Austin. I didn’t want you to miss out on seeing the city.” You and Marcus shared a smile before he added, “The whole day has been insanely awesome, huh?” “Yeah.” “Even in the kitchen?” “You mean when you were drinking my coffee? ‘Cause that put you on thin ice, mister.” “Right before that,” He corrected. The smile he was giving you was two parts bashfulness and one part coy. You folded one arm on the table, pillowing your chin on your other hand. “...Yeah, I’d include that. As first kisses go, it was…” You nodded a little, eyeing Marcus from under your lashes, “It was very...Very nice.” “‘Very nice’?” Marcus repeated, “I guess that’s not the worst review I’ve ever gotten.” “Don’t get all huffy,” You chuckled, ”I mean it, it was… I forgot what being kissed like that even felt like.” “What do you mean?” “I mean that...Was my first kiss in two years.” “Two-- How is that possible?” Marcus’ brow furrowed. You rolled your eyes a little bit, glancing away from Marcus as embarrassment swirled in your stomach. “The last person was my ex-fiancé. After that fell apart…” You shrugged, “I haven’t dated since.” You felt Marcus lean a little closer to get a better look at you. “Did you give up on finding someone?” “Not on purpose. I think I just...Built up some walls that I had torn down really quickly with them. And I built those walls up double. I prioritized work-- the devil I knew, you know.” “No dates, nothing?” “Nope.” “How many people did you turn down?” “What makes you think I turned anyone down?” Marcus tipped his head to the side, giving you a slight once-over as he muttered, “C’mon.” You shook your head, letting out a quiet, embarrassed laugh. “Well, how long after your engagement broke did you wait to date?” You asked. Marcus’ lips pressed into a thin, contemplative line before he admitted, “Five months.” “What made you get back out there? I mean… How’d you know you were ready?” “I wasn’t, but I was worried that if I waited until I was, the woman that had asked me out wouldn’t be available when I got there. I took a leap. It wasn’t a good leap, but it was a leap,” he chuckled, “And it made me remember that dating can suck and putting myself out there could be scary, but… Ultimately, it’s worth it.” You and Marcus regarded one another quietly for a moment. You couldn't even imagine what he was thinking. You couldn't understand how he was still so open to finding love when he'd been hurt the way he had. That sort of loss had only made you want to recede; it seemed to make Marcus even more determined to find love. Frankly, it was a wonder that he hadn't yet— he was the kindest man you'd ever met. You lowered your eyes to your empty plate as you realized that you were staring. It was easy to get caught up in his warm eyes; you’d found it happening more often lately, and it certainly suited the purposes of the lie you were playing up around his family. But there was something about all of it— his gaze, his smile, everything that the two of you had done today — it stirred up twinges or remorse. Lately you’d found yourself wondering if there ever could’ve been something real between the two of you, if you’d met under different circumstances. That was a very dangerous line of thought.

“If you’re finished with your food, we can go play some more air hockey.” You smiled at the offer, glancing back up at him as you asked, “I didn’t kick your ass enough the first time?” “Oh-- I was just warming up.” “Clocking all of my moves?” “Exactly.” “We’ll see about that.” (You beat him three more times.) (You let him win once.)

You flicked off the light before getting into bed, tucking yourself in beside Marcus. He yawned and mumbled, “G’night.” “Goodnight, what?” Marcus let out an exaggerated sigh, “Goodnight, supreme air hockey winner.” “Thank you.” “Mhm.” “I don’t ask for much.” “I know.” “Just that you steer clear of my coffee—” “Uh huh.” “And address me by my proper title.” You glanced over as you felt Marcus shift in the bed. Your breath caught in your throat as his arm wound around your middle, his hand dangling against your side as he rested his forehead against your shoulder. “Sleep,” He urged in a mumble, “Oh supreme one.” You settled down, resting one of your hands atop Marcus’ arm. It was a warm, comforting weight; a sweet touch that you could, if you weren’t careful, find yourself getting used to. “‘Oh supreme one’,” You repeated quietly, peering up at the ceiling, “I could get used to that.” Tag list: @hufflepuffing-all-day-long ; @spideysimpossiblegirl ; @blueeyesatnight ; @elen-aranel ; @yespolkadotkitty ; @artsymaddie ; @phoenixhalliwell ; @lunaserenade ; @winniedaboo ; @empress-palpat1ne ; @randomness501 ; @nutmeg-20 ; @leonieb ; @the-feckless-wonder ; @lou-la-lou ; @captain-jebi ; @supernaturalgirl ; @naturenebula21 ; @evelynseventyr ; @giselatropicana ; @heatherbel ; @marydjarin ; @annathewitch ; @absurdthirst ; @hnt-escape ; @writingletterstothefire ; @misswriter ; @bison-writes

Museums & Art Work

The Blanton Museum of Art

Fogel’s Conflict

Kern’s The Adoration of the Magi

Dorigny’s Diana of the Hunt The Belvedere Museum

Klimt’s The Kiss

#The Long Con #marcus pike imagine #marcus pike x reader #Marcus Pike x You #Marcus Pike/Reader #Marcus Pike/You #Marcus Pike fic

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wooyunhwa · 4 years

Text

Genre: smut, fluff, humorous undertones

Pairing: barista!san & barista!wooyoung x fem!reader

Word Count: 7.6k

Warnings: idk just a lot of smut scenes, semi-public sex (in a bathroom), minor pet play (san discovers he’s furry trash), threesome with san and wooyoung but they’re not gay for each other, mild food play (whipped cream)

Synopsis: How do you choose between two cute baristas competing for your attention? The short answer: you don’t.

A/N: This one starts wholesome and gets wild. I have a problem with writing San with a furry kink oops,, anyway there’s three separate smut scenes in this so strap in and enjoy the ride~ this was so much fun to write and I hope it’s just as fun to read! Comments are appreciated as always <3

You paid for your coffee, taking your debit card back from the cashier with a polite nod and a “thank you.” He smiled warmly, flashing his brilliant teeth as he tore off the little piece of paper from the printer.

“Receipt?” he asked.

“Sure,” you replied.

His name was San, which you knew from his nametag. You had come to that particular cafe enough that you were pretty familiar with everyone. You took it, smiling back at him. It could have been your imagination, but lately it seemed like his gaze had been lingering on you. He would make eye contact for a little longer than necessary when you ordered, or smile a little too much when handing you your coffee, or maybe not, and it was all just in your head. You kinda hoped it wasn’t, because he was really, really cute.

You’d been coming to that coffee shop since earlier in the summer, sporadically at first, but midterms coming up meant you really had to buckle down on trying to tame your workload. You kinda regretted taking summer classes at first, but it was nice to have the coffee shop all to yourself in the evenings, unlike in the fall when it was packed with students. It was so quiet, in fact, that the employees had shut the lights off and almost closed up once when they hadn’t noticed you were still inside. It wasn’t strange for you to be the last customer left in the cafe, especially since you’d been staying late to study more often.

You set your laptop up in your usual spot—the corner seat with the outlet. It was cozy and out of the way, and relatively free of distractions. Well, relatively meaning there was still a very cute barista shooting glances your way, and you tried your best to keep your eyes glued to your screen as you typed out your essay for your literature class. But you couldn’t help but peek in his direction every now and then.

“Y/N?” a voice called. It was Wooyoung’s voice, not San’s. Wooyoung was the other cute barista who worked there, and honestly, you’d kinda had your eye on both of them for a while. It wasn’t unusual for them to be working at the same time, but most nights it was either one or the other. He gave you a sweet smile as you thanked him and took the cup back to your seat.

Next to your name was a smiley face and some cute flower doodles, and you grinned at the fact that he’d gone out of his way to make your coffee cup look special. Wooyoung always drew a cute little design next to your name, sometimes including phrases like “have a good day!” or “you rock!” or even a short little joke. You often wondered if he did that for other customers, or if he was doing it to flirt with you. Which you kinda hoped was the case, to be honest. He had a playful, sexy charm about him, and you often wondered how a person could make an apron look so hot.

The next day, you were working diligently when you noticed San slide into the empty seat across from you as you worked. You looked up from your coffee, startled, but moved your laptop out of the way to give him some room.

“What’cha studying?” he asked, grinning as he leaned over to peek at your screen.

“Oh—uh, just studying for midterms, nothing too exciting,” you said, taking a shy sip of your coffee. He was even more beautiful up close, his smile almost too dazzling for words. He ran a hand through his pale blonde hair, turning his head to glance out the window, and you marvelled at the cut of his jawline as he tipped his chin up slightly. He turned back, meeting your stare warmly.

“Is it ok if I sit here? I can move, I don’t wanna bother you—“

“No, not at all!” you said a little too quickly. “Actually, I was just about to take a break from studying.”

“Oh, nice! I’m on break, too,” he said, a warm smile still plastered across his face. You tried your best not to stare, but it was futile.

“I’m Y/N,” you said instinctively.

He laughed. “Yeah, I know. I take your coffee order every day!”

Your face felt red hot. Something about looking at how gorgeous he was made your brain short-circuit.

“But while we’re introducing ourselves, I’m San,” he said seriously before breaking into a smile. He extended his hand for a cheesy handshake.Your heart fluttered a bit at how charming he was.

“I know, I order coffee from you every day,” you teased back.

You chatted for a while, exchanging flirtatious quips with each other. The time seemed to fly by and you noticed him glancing at the clock nervously.

“Shit, I gotta get back to work,” he sighed, lifting himself up from the table, his toned arms flexing beneath the rolled sleeves of his button up. “But hey, here’s my number,” he pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket smoothly and slid it across the table. “We should do something this weekend.”

You knew he was being flirtatious, but you didn’t expect him to actually make a move. You wouldn’t say you were unattractive, but this guy felt way out of your league.

You nodded a bit too enthusiastically, flashing a smile. “I’ll call you,” you said, holding the piece of paper up between your fingers.

He winked, and nodded towards the bar. “You know where to find me.”

You found yourself at the cafe again the following night, as your workload never seemed to end. Last night, San had given you his number on his break, and you smiled as you got a text from him asking if you were free that weekend. You messaged back and forth for a bit, eventually settling on a plan to meet at a cat cafe on Saturday.

San wasn’t working that night, but Wooyoung was, and you felt a little strange flirting with him after you’d already given San your number. But he probably didn’t know that, and it’s not like you were dating either of them, so why not?

Wooyoung called your name when your coffee was ready, and you hopped out of your seat to grab it from the bar. To your surprise, there was no cup to be seen, and you looked up to see Wooyoung holding your drink in his hand with a mischievous smile.

“Question,” he said. “Why did the coffee file a police report?”

You looked at him in confusion, trying to come up with a response.

“Because it was mugged!” he said, grinning at his joke.

“Ha-ha,” you said sarcastically, but you couldn’t help the smile spreading across your face. “Are you holding my drink hostage?”

“Yes, would you like to hear the conditions?”

“Conditions?” you laughed, raising your eyebrows.

“Mhm. One: I have another joke, and this time you have to laugh.” Wooyoung dangled the cup of coffee in his fingers, taunting you with it.

“Ok, I’ll do my best. What’s the second condition?”

“Second condition: you have to text me,” he said, and he turned the cup to show you he’d written his number on one side, surrounded by hearts and winky faces.

“Ok, deal,” you said, cheeks heating up as you saw the smile spread across his face. He was gorgeous, and undoubtedly charming, how could you say no?

“Alright, why did the hipster burn his tongue?”

“Why?”

“He drank it before it was cool.” He pushed the cup across the bar to you, and you forced a laugh, taking it from his hand as he stuck his tongue out cheekily.

You put his number in your phone, sending him a text with an equally cheesy joke you found off google. You heard him laugh when he read it, and you smiled as you continued to type out your essay.

[Saturday, 4pm]

It was finally time for your first date, and you arrived at the cat cafe a few minutes early, eager in anticipation. You couldn’t help but think about how cute he was as you waited—you couldn’t believe he’d even asked you out in the first place. Let alone both of them.

You heard him calling to you and you turned in the direction of his voice as he walked up to meet you by the entrance. “Hey, Y/N! I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.” You shook your head reassuringly. “Shall we go inside? Pretty ladies first,” he said, opening the door for you and flashing you a flirtatious smile.

You two were seated at your table, and immediately the cats took interest in you, rubbing on your legs and mewing. You admired him as he pet them lovingly. There was nothing more attractive than a man who loved animals.

He ordered coffee and you opted for tea, and you both split a blueberry scone. The waitress came over with a small basket full of cat toys and accessories to play with, and you grabbed a handful, including a cute little headband with cat ears, which you slid on your head. You started playing with the cat toys when you noticed San’s eyes trained to you—specifically to the cheap cat ears on your head.

He tipped his head to the side in thought. “Wow, you look really nice in those ears.”

“Huh, these?” you said, gesturing to the cat ears. “I didn’t know you were into that kind of thing,” you teased jokingly. You noticed his face go red suddenly, and you couldn’t help but blush back. He was looking at you like you were the only other person in existence.

“You never know,” he joked back, letting out a soft laugh and raising his eyebrow. He was so damn charming.

You spent the rest of the time playing with the kitties at the cafe, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how cute he was. He was the poster child for duality—his good looks were intimidating, and every time you saw him standing there with a straight face, he looked kind of scary, the kind of man you wouldn’t ever have the courage to approach. That is, until he flashed his intoxicating, dimpled smile of his, which immediately put you at ease, his eyes forming into cute crescents as he laughed.

“Do you have any pets?” He asked, making light conversation as he dangled a toy in front of one of the kittens.

“Not right now, my apartment doesn’t allow them,” you said dejectedly. “But I really want a dog when I move out.”

“Hey, I have a dog! He’s a Shiba, he’s super sweet. Everyone who meets him falls in love instantly,” he smiled, twirling the cat toy between his fingers. “You could come meet him if you want?”

You blushed, flustered a bit at the idea of going to his place. But you two were really hitting it off, and you definitely didn’t want the day to end. You nodded eagerly. “I’d really like that.”

He flashed you another big smile, and you were entranced. How could he be so charming?

When you got to his apartment, he immediately introduced you to his dog, Shiber. You laughed at the unexpectedly literal name choice.

“Shiber the Shiba?” you teased, and he laughed with you about it. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a date go so well, and your cheeks hurt from the constant smiling.

You ended up settling on the couch to watch a movie, but neither of you were paying attention. Your movie plans had devolved into you talking and laughing with the TV only acting as background noise for your conversation. At one point, your conversation reached its natural conclusion, and you had your eyes trained to his lips, signaling that you wanted him to make a move. He noticed immediately, and scooted himself as close as possible to you, pushing your hair behind your ear. “Can I kiss you?” he asked softly, like you hadn't just been begging him to with your eyes seconds before. You answered by pressing your lips to his softly, and he reciprocated fervently. You immediately tasted the faint lingering of coffee, and you smiled against his lips. What could be more fitting for a man you’d met at the coffee shop?

As the kisses began to escalate in intensity, you swung your leg over his and planted yourself firmly in his lap. He pulled you in by the waist, his hands grasping at your shirt eagerly, and you pressed your hips down against his crotch. The sudden pressure caused his breath to hitch in his throat.

“That feels so good,” he moaned against your lips.

You took his words as motivation to grind yourself faster and harder against the hard mound growing underneath you, taking pleasure in the moans and grunts escaping him. He grasped hungrily at the fabric of your shirt, practically tearing it off of your body. You were taken aback by his sudden aggression, but welcomed his forwardness as he began kissing and sucking down your neck.

You pulled back, slipping off of his lap, and planted your knees in the carpet. You began unzipping his pants, and he ran his fingers through your hair in anticipation.

“Wait,” he said suddenly. You looked at him, brows furrowed in confusion. “I keep thinking about something… those cat ears from earlier looked so sexy on you.”

“I told you you had a cat kink,” you said with a chuckle.

“I can’t stop thinking about making you my pet. You’d just look so good in ears and a collar,” he said, eyes darkening as he marveled at the sight of you kneeling before him. The way he said it sent shivers down your spine. His voice was so much deeper now, dripping with lust.

“Well you do have a dog,” you joked lightly.

A lightbulb seemed to go off in his head, and he quickly got up and rustled around in the other room for something. When he came back you were still in the same position, and he knelt behind you, leaning in close.

“Wanna be my pet?” he whispered in your ear, and you giggled, thinking he was still joking.

“Sounds fun,” you responded.

You were met with the feeling of a vice being tightened around your neck. He was serious? “I’ve always wanted to try something like this,” he mused in your ear, clicking the collar together. “Turn around,” he demanded, and his sudden commanding tone had you melting at his feet. You liked when he was cute, but you might have liked this side of him even more.

You wasted no time getting your lips around his cock. It was picturesque in every way, and you wanted to savor it. His hands tangled in your hair as he held back from thrusting himself into you, and you took him as deeply as you could into your mouth. You took his dick enthusiastically, pressing your tongue firmly against it as you hollowed your cheeks to suck. You hummed against him, and you felt his fingers tense in your hair as he bucked his hips up needily. You glanced up at him, hoping to catch a glimpse of his pleasured expression. The view from beneath him was incredible, and it gave you a chance to marvel at the curve of his jaw from below. “Fuck...” he moaned. You pulled back for a moment to take a breath, your saliva connecting at the tip of his cock, and he let out a pleased sigh at the lewd display. “Good girl,” he praised, patting the top of your head softly. It was cute and hot at the same time, and you didn’t know how that was even possible, but he pulled it off effortlessly.

You resisted the urge to joke around with him—you weren’t in a position to kink shame.

As he patted your head, you noticed something glistening on the floor next to you. A leash?

“What, are you gonna leash me up now?” you asked playfully, glancing up at him from your submissive position.

“Well, yeah. I am.” His lips drew up into a devilish smirk as he retrieved the leash from beside you and hooked it on the collar around your neck. You had never done anything like this before, and you couldn’t deny it was kinda hot. You let out a small whimper as he tugged at the chain, testing your reaction. He wrapped his hand around the end of the leash a few times before yanking it gently, drawing you up to your feet. Even though it started as a joke, he was really getting into it, and you couldn’t lie, you were too.

His finger dragged along the edge of the collar. “God, you look so good in this thing. Come to bed with me.” You wanted to, not that you really had a choice in the matter as he led you by the chain to his bed.

He shoved you down forcefully onto your stomach, but you bounced back gently against the soft mattress. He slipped off your panties, bringing a finger down between your legs to sample your wetness.

“Looks like I’m not the only one with a cat kink here,” he teased, pushing one finger inside. It slipped in effortlessly, and you let out a whine at the stimulation. He teased in and out with his finger torturously, twisting it inside you, every so often pushing against your clit to watch you squirm.

You couldn’t take it anymore. “San, Jesus Christ, just fuck me.”

That was all he needed to hear. He pushed in slowly at first before bottoming out inside of you. He tugged your collar as he pulsed his dick inside you, tugging at your collar, causing you to let out a soft choked moan against the pressure. He grabbed your hips hungrily, pulling your hips back against him impatiently.

He started to pick up the pace, thrusting rhythmically, one hand holding the leash and the other fisted in your hair. You were entirely overwhelmed in the best way possible. “Harder,” you urged, and his thrusts followed your orders. Your eyes rolled back in your head at the sensation of him inside you, and of course, the high you got from the collar choking around your neck. He pulled out of you and released himself on your lower back with heavy labored breaths. Your body gave out beneath you, causing you to collapse on the bed, waiting for him to bring back a cool cloth to clean you up with.

After you both had collected yourselves, you flopped into the soft sheets of San’s bed. He sunk into the sheets next to you, and you rolled over to swing a tired arm around his chest.

“Well that was… memorable,” you giggled, and he laughed with you, still riding a high from your orgasm.

“So I made a good impression?” he joked.

You melted into his touch as he traced his fingers down your back. You nuzzled your head into the warm crook of his neck, finally starting to feel a bit drowsy from your wild night.

“Yeah, you made a great one.”

[Sunday, 9pm]

The buzzer went off in the laser tag arena, signaling the start of the game. Everyone scattered, artificial gun sounds filling the room as you ducked for cover. Glowing barrels leaking “toxic waste” littered the dark room, and you dove behind one, dodging enemy fire with a nimble slide.

Wooyoung spotted you as you poked your head over the top of the barrel, and he pursued you with a grin, weapon poised to shoot. Lasers discharged from his gun, aiming for the target at the center of your chest, and you squealed and scrambled away.

He chased you, running a full circle around the barricade, and you turned on your heels, shooting him square in the chest. Wooyoung gasped in mock-offense, and you ran away as he raised his gun again. He had insisted on playing for the opposing team so he could whoop your ass, but so far you were winning.

You chased each other around like that for a while, giggling and shooting lasers at each other, ignoring the other players in favor of your own flirty warfare. He landed a particularly well-placed shot at your gun, and it made a sad little noise and died, lights flickering as it disabled.

Wooyoung smirked, backing you into a corner, cut off from all the other players by an artificially dilapidated wall.

“You’re weaponless,” he laughed, nodding his head toward your defunct toy gun. He pressed closer, causing your back to hit the wall, and he brought a hand up to it to cage you there.

“Please, spare me!” you giggled, your faces just inches apart. Your heart began to beat faster as he leaned in, sliding his arm around your waist, pulling your body against his.

“Not this time,” he said, and pressed your lips together. You dropped your gun, letting it fall to the carpet as you wrapped your hands around his shoulders, reciprocating the kiss.

Wooyoung pressed you firmly against the wall, his tongue sliding against yours with a soft sigh. You got way too into it, completely forgetting where you were as the kiss grew more and more heated. His hands came down to squeeze your ass, pulling you even closer against his body, and you were about ready to fuck him right then and there before the buzzer went off once more, snapping you back to reality.

You both pulled back, startled, then burst into laughter. As you caught your breath, you couldn’t help but stare. He had a beautiful smile, and a contagious laugh that had you doubled over for a second time.

“We should probably go before they kick us out,” you said breathlessly, picking your gun up from the floor.

“It was just getting good, too,” he pouted, pulling you in for another quick kiss before leading the way back to the gear room.

You hung up your vests and put yours guns back, and you were grabbing your purse from the locker when you felt Wooyoung come up behind you. He slid his hands over your waist and leaned in close to your ear, his warm breath tickling your neck. You quickly looked around to see if anyone was around, but you were the last two there, since it had taken you the longest to return.

“What’s my prize for winning?” he asked, his lips just barely brushing against your neck.

“Oh, there was a prize?” you teased, and turned around to face him. He had mischief all over his face, and you kinda just wanted to pull him in and pick up where you left off in the arena.

As if thinking the same thing, he leaned in, pressing your back against the lockers as he sealed your lips together. The kiss was even more heated than before, and you let your hands wander over his shirt, across the plane of his chest, moving downward to give him a teasing squeeze to the front of his jeans. He groaned against your lips, pulling back just enough to give you a sly smile.

“Just can’t wait, huh?”

“So what if I can’t?” you said against his lips, and he pressed you harder against the lockers.

“Dirty, I like it. You want my dick that bad?”

“Mm, maybe,” you laughed, and he captured your lips again, sliding his hands down to your hips.

“Why does home have to be so far away,” he whined playfully.

“I mean… they have a bathroom.” You were joking, but then again, were you?

“A bathroom?” he raised his eyebrows, surprised and also quite impressed at your suggestion. “What goes on in that little head of yours?”

“I guess you’ll see,” you said, grabbing his wrist, sliding out from underneath him to lead him into the single occupant bathroom down the hall. It was pretty late, and most of the employees were up front, so you were able to slip into the bathroom together without being seen. You flipped the lock, pushing Wooyoung against the heavy door as it slammed shut.

You kissed him hard, palming the bulge forming in his jeans, reveling in the way he moaned against your lips. You were on a roll—two hot baristas in one weekend? You felt a little guilty agreeing to both dates at first, but who could blame you?

The heart wanted what the heart wanted. Well, maybe not your heart so much...

You sank to your knees, maintaining eye contact as you worked his belt open and pulled down the zipper on his jeans, and he helped you slide his boxers down enough to let his dick spring free.

You wrapped your hand around his length, jerking it a few times until he bit his lip and tipped his head back against the door. You were in the mood to tease him, for some reason, and it was working. You planted a tiny kiss to the head of his cock, and you heard him sigh above you.

“Stop torturing me.”

You giggled, giving the tip of his dick another small peck. Slowly, you wrapped your lips around it, giving the slit a little flick with your tongue, and he groaned in the back of his throat. You took more of it, letting it sink deeper into your mouth, curling your hand around what you couldn’t fit.

You sucked hard, cheeks hollowing out as you bobbed your head, forming a steady rhythm as you began jerking him off as well. A particularly well-executed twisting motion had him cursing aloud, and you pulled back, a thin string of saliva connected to your lip.

“Shh, quiet!” you stage-whispered up at him, grinning at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“C’mere,” Woouoing said as he pulled you up, giving you a quick kiss before spinning you around. “Hands on the counter.”

“But it’s wet,” you whined, grabbing a few paper towels from the dispenser to mop up the water.

“Don’t be such a baby,” Wooyoung teased, flipping your skirt up to give you a sudden smack on the ass. You yelped, partially because of the smack, partially because your elbows were resting in a puddle of cold water.

You watched him in the mirror as he massaged your ass, momentarily in his own world as he admired it. You wiggled your hips to pull him back to reality.

He slid a hand between your legs, rubbing over the crotch of your panties, watching your face in the mirror as he added more pressure and started teasing circles over your clit with his fingers. You whined, breathy and needy, and you watched his face light up into a smirk in the mirror.

He slid your panties down, the thin fabric falling around your ankles. He pulled his wallet out of his jeans, retrieving a condom from between the bills. He ripped it open with his teeth, spitting the torn plastic onto the floor as he rolled the condom onto his cock.

Wooyoung lined his cock up with your pussy, dragging it along your wet folds, and it slid in easily. You bit your lip as he slipped it in, pushing in slowly with a groan. He started off slow at first, then quickly picked up the pace, falling into a fast rhythm as he fucked you.

You didn’t even care that the counter was wet anymore. You clawed at it with your fingernails, scratching against the sink as he fucked you harder, and it was becoming difficult to silence the cries that spilled from your mouth.

“Fuck, harder,” you whined, and he obliged. The wet sound of his cock fucking into you echoed in the small, single-person bathroom, and you wondered if people could hear from outside. Not that you really cared at that moment.

You were in heaven, not in a grimy public bathroom. At least, that’s what it felt like. His thrusts grew faster, and he slid a hand around your front to stroke his fingers over your clit. You had to slap a hand over your mouth to keep from crying out, and your other hand slipped forward and accidentally set off the automatic soap dispenser, depositing foam all over the back of your hand.

“Fuck, shit,” you said, and you both started cracking up as you shook your hand, splattering foamy soap all over the mirror.

Tears welled up in your eyes from laughing so hard, but it wasn’t long before your laughter turned to moans again as fucked you faster, giving a few broken thrusts as he finished, groaning as he buried his cock to the hilt.

Wooyoung let his sweaty forehead fall against your back, panting out laughter as you wiped your soapy hand against his arm.

“Someone definitely heard us,” he said, and you hummed in agreement.

He pulled out, snapping the condom off and tying it up before slingshotting it into the trash can with impressive accuracy. You were busy using toilet paper to wipe down your crotch when a sudden knock on the door made you both freeze.

Wooyoung mouthed oh shit! as you clamped a hand around your mouth to muffle your laughter.

“Just a minute!” he called at the door, and you both cleaned up as fast as you could, bursting into a new round of laughter every time you made eye contact.

Good thing you’d chosen to go with the adults only time slot for your laser tag date.

In the days following your two dates, you still attended the coffee shop as regularly as you had before. You couldn’t seem to focus anywhere else. Things were relatively normal, but any time Wooyoung and San happened to be working together on the same day, you didn’t know how to speak to one without exposing yourself to the other, so you opted for no flirting at all, pretending instead to be too preoccupied with your studies. It was probably suspicious, how cold you acted to them when they were working together, but you didn’t want to seem like you were flirting with one and not the other.

It was Friday, and you were engaged in a particularly intense study session, and in your focused state, the time seemed to slip away without warning. You glanced up to realize the sun had set completely, meaning it’d soon be time for the cafe to close. It was just you, Wooyoung and San left in the cafe now, who were the only ones working the evening closing shift that night. You gathered up your things quickly, trying to leave without making much of a scene. You still felt awkward around the both of them when they were together, not knowing how to approach the delicate situation.

As you were walking out the door, an arm came down and blocked your exit.

“Don’t leave just yet.” It was San’s voice, and you turned to see him looking at you with a strange expression. You were the last one left in the store, so he was obviously addressing you. He kept his arm out to block your path. You looked at him in confusion.

“So I was talking with Wooyoung, and both of us happened to hook up with a cute regular over the weekend. Turns out, it was the same one.”

You shifted uncomfortably under his intense gaze, not knowing what to make of the awkward situation. Was he mad? You peeked up at him to gauge his expression, but to your surprise, he was smiling. “Oh, uh…” was all you could say.

You glanced over your shoulder, and Wooyoung had sat down at one of the tables in the middle of the cafe, leaning nonchalantly back into his seat.

“Come on, let’s have a chat,” San said, and for some reason his tone sent shivers down your spine. You swallowed, San’s hands on your shoulders spinning you around and guiding you to the table where Wooyoung was sitting. Neither of them seemed particularly upset, which made you even more confused on why they were confronting you about it in the first place.

You sat down at one side of the table, and San joined, both of them facing you. You set your bag on the floor and placed your hands in your lap, feeling like you were in trouble.

“Alright, spill. Who was better?” Wooyoung said bluntly.

“Who was—huh?” you said, gaping at the unexpected question.

Wooyoung threw San a glance, like there was an inside joke you were missing. “C’mon, we just wanna know. We have a bet going, so who was better?”

“No way, I’m not answering that!” you laughed indignantly. San made a pouty face at you.

“I think it was me,” Wooyoung said, crossing his arms. “I kicked your ass at laser tag and you loved it.”

“Hell no! Cat cafe totally wins,” San whined.

“C’mon, you wish you’d thought of laser tag. Just admit it.”

“Ok, fine, laser tag is pretty cool,” San sighed. “But you don’t have a cute dog like I do.”

“I don’t need a cute dog, I’m already cute enough as it is,” Wooyoung said, making a cutesy gesture with his hands around his face at you. You and San both rolled your eyes.

“Whatever you wanna tell yourself,” San said dryly, and Wooyoung gave him a playful shove. “Ok, laser tag or cat cafe?” he asked you seriously.

“I can’t pick,” you said, which was the truth. They were both fun, how could you possibly pick the superior date?

“Making out in a laser tag arena or… cat hair up your nose. Tough choice.” Wooyoung pretended to seriously mull over the question.

“Uh, how ‘bout… sexy kittycat with a leash, or disgusting public bathroom?” San shot back at him.

“I’m not saying public bathrooms aren’t gross, but that’s why it’s hot,” Wooyoung shrugged, confident with his answer.

You covered your face with your hands, mortified to be having this conversation. “Do we have to be having this discussion?” you groaned.

“Yes!” they said in unison, like cartoon characters.

“Which of us was the better lay?” Wooyoung demanded.

“Not telling!” you hmph’d, crossing your arms petulantly.

“I put a dog collar on you, so obviously me,” San said, hitting the table like a lawyer who’d just won his case.

“You did help San discover his furry kink—,”

“I’ll kill you.”

“—But my dick is bigger.”

“No it isn’t!”

They both looked at you expectantly, as if waiting for you to settle it. You made a gesture indicating that your lips were sealed. You wondered how long they planned on arguing for.

“I think there’s only one way to settle this,” Wooyoung said matter-of-factly.

What, were they about to whip their dicks out and measure them?

“You fuck both of us.” Didn’t you do that already? “...Right now.” Oh.

“Deal,” you said a little too quickly. You couldn’t choose anyway, so wasn’t it the perfect solution?

“Wow, fast answer,” San commented, and you blushed a little at his call-out. “Don’t forget, the bet is still on,” he called over his shoulder as he got up to lock the door and draw the blinds over the windows.

“And I’m so winning it,” Wooyoung said as he scooped you up from your chair, carrying you honeymoon-style to the bar and depositing you onto the counter. San flipped a few of the lights off as he came back, keeping just enough of them on so that it wasn't completely dark.

Wooyoung disappeared for a second, ducking down to retrieve something from the fridge underneath the counter. He popped back up with a canister of whipped cream, then threw his shirt over his head, tossing it behind him. He sprayed a line of whipped cream along his neck, tipping his chin up to give you the most access. He leaned in, caging you against the counter with his arms. He quirked an eyebrow, waiting for your move.

You kissed along his neck, scooping up the whipped cream with your tongue and tasting the sugar on his skin. You licked it clean, and glanced up at San, who rolled his eyes and grabbed the can from Wooyoung’s hand. Not to be bested, he sprayed some directly into his mouth, maintaining eye contact with you as he did so.

He leaned on the counter next to you, and you hooked a finger in the collar of his shirt and pulled him in, leaning over Wooyoung’s shoulder to kiss him. You slid your tongue into his mouth, lapping up the whipped cream as he smirked against your lips.

Wooyoung scoffed as he kissed along your neck, pulling back to utter a brief but sarcastic “wooow.” His hands came up to feel underneath your shirt, pushing it up to your shoulders, ducking his head to pull your bra down with his teeth. He brought his mouth to your nipple, licking and sucking on it, and you moaned against San’s lips. His thumb traced circles along your skin, and you wanted more.

San moved a hand between your legs, giving your thigh a quick squeeze before dipping under your skirt and brushing his fingers over the crotch of your panties. He used just enough pressure to have you squirming, determined to be the one to make you moan. You felt like the luckiest girl alive, having these two hot baristas competing over you.

San slid your panties off, dropping them to the floor. He teased his thumb over your clit, and you arched your back, threading your fingers into Wooyoung’s hair. He gave a soft moan against your breast, then raised his head, stealing you from San as he locked you in a heated kiss.

You felt the press of San’s fingers as he slipped them inside you, dragging them in and out as you moaned into Wooyoung’s mouth. You raised your arms so Wooyoung could take your shirt off, and he worked on your bra next. San’s fingers moved faster as Wooyoung brushed your nipples with his thumbs, and you had no idea who was winning at this point.

You tipped your head back, moaning loudly as San fucked you with his fingers, and Wooyoung sucked along the curve of your neck, teeth scraping along the sensitive skin. Suddenly, Wooyoung brought a hand up to your face, brushing his fingers along your lips, and you opened them, letting him dip two fingers into your mouth. You sucked, letting your tongue drag between them, and both of them watched you hungrily, eyes full of desire.

“Alright, how ‘bout this?” Wooyoung said, pulling back. You looked at him in confusion, and San slipped his fingers out to see what he was about to do. Wooyoung worked his belt open, sliding his pants down enough to free his dick. It sprang free, and he grabbed the canister again, spraying whipped cream in a line along his cock.

“Gross,” San muttered to himself as you hopped off the counter, getting on your knees in front of Wooyoung.

You gave the tip of his dick a tiny lick, laughing as a little puff of whipped cream stuck to your nose. He wiped it off with his finger, then licked it off with a smirk. You dragged your tongue along his cock, kissing and sucking off the whipped cream as you worked your way down the shaft. He gave a satisfied moan, petting your hair as you licked it clean.

"Let's take this to the couch," Wooyoung said, and San agreed with a nod.

San guided you to a small carpeted area with a couch and a few chairs, draping you over the arm of the couch as he slid beneath you, grabbing your hips and lining you up with his mouth. He took a few tentative licks. “Mm, you taste so good,” he moaned against you.

Wooyoung moved in front of you, and you took him in your mouth eagerly, twisting the base of his dick with your hands as you sucked. He let out a few pleasured groans, signaling that he wanted more.

Pleasure swelled inside of you as San began circling your clit with his tongue. You moaned around Wooyoung’s cock, sending vibrations up the shaft that had him biting his lip. You let your tongue circle the head of his cock, distracted by San as he upped the intensity.

Soon enough you were grinding against his face, leaning your head against Wooyoung’s hip as you jerked him off, moaning as San slid his fingers into you once again.

You brought the tip of Wooyoung’s cock back into your mouth, bobbing your head over his length. You pulled off as you felt your climax growing, Wooyoung’s hand stroking your hair as you rode San’s face. San sucked hard on your clit as he fucked you with his fingers, and you cried out as you came, bucking your hips against his face involuntarily.

San kissed all the way down your inner thigh as he slid out from under you, a subtle smirk on his face that indicated he thought he was winning so far. You caught your breath, moving to the center of the couch to make room for the guys. San swiveled to face you, his cock in front of your face as Wooyoung’s hands found their way to your ass.

You repositioned yourself to all fours, waiting expectantly to feel Wooyoung’s cock push into you. In front of you, San tipped your chin up to meet his gaze, his lips pulling into a sinister smirk. He pushed his thumb against your lip, dragging it down slightly, then hooked two fingers in your mouth, pulling it open to accept his eager cock.

As if they had conspired, Wooyoung slid the tip of his dick inside of you at the same time that San pushed his against your lips. Your head rushed with bliss at the sudden overwhelming sensation of being taken from both ends. You moaned deeply, sending vibrations against San’s dick as Wooyoung pushed fully into you.

“Look at me,” San cooed, resting one hand under your chin, the other wrapped tightly in your hair. You lifted your gaze up, maintaining eye contact with him as he gently rocked against the roof of your mouth. “Good girl.” You heard Wooyoung scoff as San sang your praises. They fought for your attention as San maintained eye contact, but Wooyoung’s thrusts behind you had you seeing stars. Wooyoung’s hands clamped your ass, digging his nails in as he squeezed, delivering a harsh slap to your ass. They seemed to be enjoying themselves as much as you were—you could tell from their moans harmonizing beautifully as they shared you, and your mind short-circuited trying to focus just on one or the other.

“That’s a good girl… just like that, princess,” San purred, holding your chin as you sucked and licked at his dick enthusiastically.

“Can you shut up,” Wooyoung groaned, making a fake gagging noise. “I don’t wanna hear your voice right now.”

San smirked in amusement as he continued sliding in and out of your mouth. You wondered how much fun he must be having making Wooyoung gag like that.

You pressed your tongue firmly on San’s shaft as you sucked, and he bit his lip, holding back stifled moans. Behind you, Wooyoung’s thrusts grew more aggressive as he sunk his nails into your ass. “Fuck,” Wooyoung grunted, giving one final thrust before pulling out hastily, cursing as he finished. Warm liquid dripped slowly down the curve of your back as you turned your attention back to San, who was nearing his tipping point. You focused all your efforts on his dick, sucking mercilessly until he couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled out, painting your face with hot streaks of cum. You stuck your tongue out to catch some, and the rest dribbled down your cheeks and chin. He smiled, petting your hair softly.

“What a good kitty, lapping up my milk,” he said, making direct eye-contact with Wooyoung, who immediately gagged.

“Are you trying to make me sick right now? If I hadn’t cum already my boner would be dead.” San laughed, cherishing Wooyoung’s disgust. “Just having a little fun. I know how to show my girl a good time.”

“My girl,” Wooyoung corrected.

You took pleasure in listening to them fight over you. You knew they were going to ask you who was better, but you really couldn’t decide in this moment. You honestly kind of wanted both. But right now you were more worried about the sticky liquid threatening to drip on the cafe’s couch.

“Guys, stop. Can someone get me a towel or something?” you asked. Hearing your voice, they both stopped bickering and trained their eyes on you, eyes growing wide as they realized you were still draped over the arm of the couch, cum dripping slowly down your sides.

“Shit! Sorry,” Wooyoung said as he scrambled to locate the nearest towel. Wooyoung got you cleaned up, and you all searched for your haphazardly discarded clothing scattered around the cafe.

“Pretty sure that violated like, every food safety rule,” San joked as he buttoned his shirt back up.

“Yikes, you’re right. Maybe we should throw that whipped cream away,” Wooyoung said, pretending to cringe. You laughed, shuddering at the idea of them using it for people’s drinks after such… unprofessional activities. Wooyoung came and stood next to you, crossing his arms. “So, who won?”

#san smut #ateez smut #woosan smut #wooyoung smut #seonghwa smut #choi san smut #ateez fic #yunho smut #hongjoong smut #mingi smut #yeosang smut #ateez reaction #ateez scenario

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henrycavillobsessed · 3 years

Text

Captivated

Henry x first person reader

Words: 2377

Summary: You and Henry have a “friends with benefits” situation going on, but you’ve caught feelings, and so has he. Everything comes to a head when you see photos of him out with another woman.

CW: Angsty smut! Sex, male and female oral giving and receiving; female ejaculation. Bad language. Anger and slight violence (struggles).

Notes: Hope you all enjoy this smutty, angsty one! I really enjoyed writing it :)

Looking in the mirror, I smiled widely. Damn I look good, I thought to myself. It was Henry’s turn to visit my house, and I knew he’d love the new lingerie set I’d bought that day; a scarlet babydoll with matching lace panties. Pulling on a silk robe and stepping into a pair of black stilettos, I quickly checked my makeup and hair was still perfect and then I left my bedroom. In the kitchen, I pulled out a chilled bottle of white wine from the wine cooler and set it on the table with two glasses, and then lit the scented candles and dimmed the lights. Looking at the clock I saw that I still had half an hour until Henry arrived, so I took a seat on the table and turned on the TV that was mounted on the wall. The showbiz news was on, and funnily enough the newsreader was talking about Henry and his new movie. I smiled to myself. It always amazed me whenever I saw Henry on TV, or in a celebrity magazine, knowing that I was sleeping with him, and had been for the last six months. It had started off as a one-night stand after I met him in a club on a night out in London, and it soon turned to a regular “friends with benefits” situation. The secrecy was what made what was already hot sex even hotter, and we regularly met up, taking it in turns to go to each other’s places for the evening, always leaving in the early hours to avoid the paparazzi. It was a complete no-strings attached arrangement, with both of us knowing it would never go any further, although recently I had started to look forward to our evenings more and more. I suppose you could say I missed him when I wasn’t with him, which was dangerous territory to be in. I needed to keep a check on that. Shaking my head away from these thoughts, I reached for the wine and poured myself a glass, glancing up at the TV.

“… and speaking about Henry Cavill, could there be a new lady in his life? Known as one of Hollywood’s most eligible bachelors, Cavill was spotted today in Kensington enjoying a drink with an unknown, but incredibly pretty, brunette…”

A photo flashed up on the screen, and there he was. Sat at an outside table of a wine bar, holding a large glass of red, Henry’s head was thrown back in laughter. The woman next to him was also laughing, her hand resting on his forearm. They looked incredibly cosy. It was obvious they were on a date.

I felt like someone had literally grabbed my heart and was crushing it. My stomach plummeted, and I went icy cold. I gasped for breath, my hand flying to cover my mouth to try and stop the sob clawing its way up my throat from escaping. Tears sprung to my eyes, spilling over and streaking my mascara. Where was my phone? I grabbed it from the counter, opening Google. Typing his name in the search bar, I cried out as photos of them both popped up immediately, all with speculative captions asking who this mystery woman could be. I threw the phone across the room. My breathing was too fast. Grabbing the wine, I drank the whole glass in one.

“What the fuck!” I whispered to myself. What was this reaction? I knew this would happen one day. He was Henry Cavill for fuck sake, I was lucky to have managed this far having a secret fling with him. Of course he’d end up with someone for real one day, probably an actress or a model, not a nobody like me. But if I knew what was coming, then why did it feel like my heart had been shattered? Why did it feel like I’d just lost him?

“Fuck!” I said again, louder this time. I poured myself some more wine, trying to get my bearings and control my breathing. As I was drinking the second glass of wine, slower than the first, I heard a key turn in the front door. Shit. I forgot he had a key. Usually he’d knock and I’d answer the door, giving him his first view of whatever lingerie I’d chosen for that night; he’d barely make it through the door before his mouth was on mine, his sexy muscular arms wrapped around me, a hand reaching down to

Jesus Christ, this was not the time to get horny over memories! What was I going to do? I stood up, wobbling slightly on my heels. I pulled them off, and turned to face the window so he wouldn’t see my tear-stained face when he entered the kitchen.

“Hi! I did knock but you didn’t answer, I hope you didn’t mind me using the key,” I heard him call as he walked down the hallway.

I could smell his aftershave as he came into the room; he smelled absolutely delicious. I hastily wiped the black streaks from my face, using the dark window as mirror, and turned around to face him.

“There you are!” Henry beamed, and then whistled. “Wow. You look breath-taking. But hey, um, before we, erm, begin, I need to talk to you about something…”

Something inside me snapped, anger replacing the devastation I’d felt at seeing those photos. Who the fuck did he think he was? Did he honestly think that I’d still get on my back for him after he’d told me about his new woman?!

“Oh, I know what you’re going to say,” I said, my voice low.

“You do?” Henry looked taken-aback. “But I-“

“I saw the photos, Henry.”

He stilled. I walked slowly towards him, seething.

“How long has this been going on then, huh? Have you only come here to tell me because you knew I’d see the news today?”

I stopped in front of him, wishing I’d kept the heels on. He towered over me, his male scent overpowering my senses.

“Listen, it’s not-“

“It’s not what I think it is? Ha, spare me,” I spat, my voice louder now. The anger was bubbling up to the surface; I couldn’t control it. “What have you come here tonight for, Henry? One last fuck before you move on with your brunette?”

His face clouded over with anger of his own. He stepped closer to me. “Y/N, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

I laughed humourlessly. “Oh I think I do! That’s all I ever was to you, wasn’t I, a hole to fill- literally! – until you found someone better! Well, fuck you, okay! I’m a human being, with feelings! Didn’t you know I’d end up-“

My hand flew up to my mouth again, halting the words before I said something I’d regret. Henry frowned.

“You’d end up what?” he asked. He walked towards me as I shook my head.

He didn’t stop until he’d backed me up against the wall.

“Nothing, just forget it-“

“I asked you a question.” His voice was dangerously quiet.

“I said it was nothing!” I pushed against his chest, trying to get away from him. I’d have had more success pushing against a brick wall, but I didn’t stop.

“Y/N!” he shouted, grabbing the tops of my arms.

“Get off me!”

“Not until you answer me!”

I struggled against him, and he growled, the sound echoing in my sex which traitorously clenched in response. He was all male, and I was completely captivated by him.

“For fuck- I love you Henry, okay? I love you don’t you see that?” I angrily wiped the fresh tears from my face. Henry let go of me, finally, and stared at me, an indiscernible look in his eyes.

And then his mouth was on mine, our lips crushing together. One of his hands grabbed the back of my head, and mine wound up behind his neck. His other arm was around me, holding me tight against him as we made out passionately. He growled again, and I could feel his erection straining against his jeans. He picked me up one handed and kicked the door behind him; we fell into the living room. He threw me down onto the sofa, and pulled off his t-shirt, his perfectly sculpted chest and abs coming into view. I was panting, and so fucking wet; my legs clenched together for some relief as he ripped off his shoes and scrambled to take off his jeans and boxers. He impressive cock sprung free as he stood there naked, eyeing me up like a lion does his prey. Then he bent down and threw open my robe, his breath hissing as he saw what I was wearing. He stretched his body out over mine, and kissed me again, hard, and then moved to my neck, biting down. I cried out, raking my nails down his back; I was sure I drew blood. He moved further down my body, taking one of my nipples in his mouth and rolling it around with his tongue. I arched up, the onslaught of pleasure taking over. I was desperate for him to touch me elsewhere, my pussy pulsing with need. After giving attention to my other breast, he moved down, looking me dead in the eyes as he tore the delicate lace panties off me with his teeth. And finally, his attention was on my clit, and I nearly came there and then just from the first lick of his tongue. He thrust two fingers into me, and fucked me with them as he ate me, and the first orgasm exploded around him, as I squirted hard, causing him to groan erotically; he licked my juices up, looking up and licking his lips when he was done. I sprung up, twisting him around and down so that he was sitting on the sofa and I took his dick in my mouth, sucking him feverently, licking up and down the velvety warmness, tasting the exquisite salty flavour of him. His threw his head back, a vein popping on his neck. He came quickly, and hard, the onslaught of ejaculate flooding my mouth. I swallowed it down quickly, wiping my mouth. Henry reached out and grabbed me, pulling me down towards him. I knew what he wanted. I mounted him, taking all of him in one, and then I was riding him, hard, his hands grabbing my hips, urging me to go faster, harder. We didn’t speak, our breath coming out in pants and gasps, both of us racing to climax. I screamed as I came again, ferociously, almost painfully, tightening around him, milking him as hot spurts of his cum pumped into me as he roared his release.

As far as last fucks went, it was spectacular. Wait. Last fuck. The argument before came back to me, and I gasped, the pain in my chest returning. I got off of Henry quickly, grabbing my robe and covering myself up again. I could feel tears choking my throat and I did nothing to stop them.

“Y/N, wait, I-“

“I didn’t need your pity, Cavill. That was a mistake.”

“For fuck sake, Y/N!” Henry cried, getting in and stepping into his boxers. “That wasn’t about pity!”

“Then what was it about?”

“I love you too! There, I said it! I fucking love you too, alright!” Henry thrust a hand through his curly hair, pacing around the room. I stood rooted to the stop, speechless.

“But… but what about that woman, your date?” I asked when my voice returned.

“She wasn’t a date! She’s a new director, we met for a drink to talk about a potential project!”

Realisation began to dawn on me. “So when you said you needed to talk to me about something…”

“I wanted to tell you how I felt, how I truly felt about you! Because I saw the paparazzi at lunch, I knew that there would be photos, I knew you’d see them. And then I thought, if it had been the other way around, if you had been seen out with another man and I saw photos of that, I’d be consumed with jealousy. The mere thought of it made me rage.” He stopped pacing and turned to face me.

“I know we have a “friends with benefits” thing going on, but it isn’t enough for me anymore. I love you. I want more. I need more.”

I looked at him incredulously; I can’t believe how wrong I’d gotten it.

“You actually, really love me? Like I love you?” I asked, daring to hope.

“Yes!” Henry laughed. He picked me up, and spun you around. “I really love you!”

We both laughed together. It was like the beginning of the evening hadn’t even happened. When I thought I’d lost him…

“I thought I’d lost you,” I said, voicing my worries. “Not that I was yours to begin with, not really…”

“I think you’ve always been mine Y/N, and I’ve always been yours. I’ve been captivated with you from the moment I first saw you, first kissed you. I couldn’t even look at anyone else. It’s always been you.”

I started crying again, the whirlwind of emotions I’d felt since seeing that news report completely overwhelming me. Henry smiled indulgently, opening his arms.

“Come here, baby.”

I entered his embrace, taking in his scent of expensive aftershave and sex. Being in his arms felt so familiar, like I was always meant to be here.

“What’s going to happen now?” I asked, looking up at him. “Am I going to be seen as the “new lady” in your life?”

He responded by gifting me with the most gentle, loving kiss. “Hell yeah, baby. Now I’ve got you, I’m not letting you go, and I want the whole world to know.”

He kissed me again, and we went upstairs to spend the night as we’d originally intended. But now our true feelings for each other were out in the open, it was like the first time all over again. Plus I didn’t feel like a nobody any more. I was Henry’s, and he was mine. And I couldn’t wait for the whole world to find out.

#henry cavill #henry cavill fan fic #henry cavill fan fiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill obsessed #henrycavillobsessed #henry cavill x (y/n)#henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill angst #henry cavill smut #henry cavill angst fan fic #henry cavill smut fan fic

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bookwyrminspiration · 2 years

Text

Response to an ask from Ophelia:

(this is the out of context paracosm one!)

Ophelia!! Hello!! I'm so glad you're feeling a little better. I meant to remind you on the last ask to drink fluids and rest, to take care of yourself in general. But better late than never, I suppose. And of course, you're not annoying me at all so there's no need to apologize

And I don't think it's an annoying idea either! Actually kudos to you for having a list of things, even if it is incoherent. All my information exists solely in my brain...actually wait I think I drew one iteration of one of the main characters in my own paracosm. Oh! It's actually still posted on instagram, wow (this one. the character has changed a lot since then and has a bunch of tattoos/scars, but didn't at the time so they're not in that drawing)

(and no problem with cutting things out! it's completely understandable, and I just want you to be comfortable <33 and also I'm putting it under a cut for space!)

that being said...I am so curious about these out of context quotes oh my. once again i'm kinda just spewing out questions in response you don't actually have to answer them tho!

if he's not a ventriloquist then what could be possibly be!! how did he get mistaken for a ventriloquist. is he lying to people about being a ventriloquist because that's an impressive thing to fake

vampires, you say? my interest has been piqued. I'm totally normal about them (no I'm not). okay but like what iteration of vampires are we talking here. do they crawl around with considerable speed quite like a lizard (dracula)? do they sparkle in the sunlight and angst over their monstrous nature (twilight, but specifically edward)? do they pass for human and go out in the sun but need to mix their diet with human food and blood while being extremely flammable (i've forgotten the specifics but that's what I remember from the simon snow trilogy)? Like I said, I'm very normal about vampires

oo there's employment in this world of yours...is that within or outside The Shell? does The Shell have jobs? What does a person do with their time when inside it? but that poor tired employee..,

are they...a fake person? not a real person sounds like a warning label, like the "not meant for human consumption" kind of thing or "not safe for children" so my brain is interpreting this as a warning

and they're right to be scared! staircases will get you. honestly the ones that get people the most are the smallest. in my house theres a slightly raised section of the floor right in front of the door like a platform that requires a single step up and down, and visitors trip over it all. the. time. which isn't great when the majority of people who visit your house are old

rice cakes! I don't think I've actually had a rice cake before now that I think about it. wait maybe I have. okay looked it up I have not eaten the puffed rice cakes, but i have had the other ones. google is just calling them asian rice cakes

I think she deserves to fight 100% of the time. I don't know her but like that number is close enough to 100 that it seems only reasonably to bump it up. what does she want the other 10 percent? is this a situation where she's loving the other 10 or where it's not a want to fight but a want to murder and it adds up to 100% violence

wait you're so right frozen grapes are so good. like the variety of different consistencies...so fun. also great when your grapes are no longer taut and are instead slightly squishy, which is unsatisfactory. just freeze them and no more squish!

robot-clown-lady. I. who? I am so curious. who is this lady and what is the proportion of each of those three parts. is she more robot than clown? more clown than lady? or is she a lady who happens to be slightly the other two. also for some reason the first mental image I got was of Circus Baby, which is probably not what you intended

ah yes, anxious anger, the very shaky and orange (I think?) emotion. feel that one a lot

froggy raincoat!! I didn't have a raincoat, but I used to have a froggy umbrella!! like the ones with the eyes sticking up. let me find a picture. like this!! my sister had a ladybug

my immediate response to hearing a thing called useless was defense of said thing. i know nothing about them but my compassion for inanimate things holds no bounds i will love and cherish these useless things he's made if no one else will

shout out to left-handed people, the world truly is against you. i wonder how effectively I could teach myself to learn to use my left hand to write. I mean writing is just a skill. I once saw a youtube channel entirely dedicated to this guy learning to write with his left hand, but I don't remember what the channel name was

and they're right to do so! I will also freeze any fruit for consumption. fruit is just so *screams* /pos.

I respect the froggy raincoat. I love the froggy raincoat. I'd do anything for the froggy raincoat. I have absolutely no need for a raincoat as I live in a desert in the mountains, but if I had a raincoat I'd want it to be a froggy one. or a dragon. both are good I'll just wear two

(ignore this paragraph break tumblr is telling me I'm talking too much so I have to break it up)

very valid of the computer-program-equivalent thing that doesn't have preferred pronouns. I'm curious whether that's because all pronouns works or if it doesn't have any. pronounless...beautiful

who what when where why and how can her head turn 360 degrees. what owl sorcery is this and how can I replicate it in my bedroom. makes me think of the bird species whose name I can't remember (rostrae?) from the Magonia duology by Maria Dahvana Headley. I didn't actually understand their biology at all based on the descriptions but I'm going to pretend like I did !!

oh I love characters like that! immediately like oh no. they just have such a strong presence it overwhelms you. I met someone one who based on the single first thing they said to me I went "oh shit" /pos you're intense. turns out it was a fluke and they're actually very goofy like many of the other people in my life (cough, my partner's family, cough), but before I figured that out they had a presence. but congrats to this character for being a good brother!

why don't the drinks provide hydration wait. what's going on here. is that because they're drinking super sugary/fatty things or are there magic drinks in The Shell that don't actually quench your thirst. has this character heard of water. they should try some

AGAS (Assigned gamer at Shell). good for them. I hope they enjoy their gamer days or whatever else is going on (idk what's happening I don't have context). but wait what kind of gamer. a video gamer? what kind of games? a board gamer? how does this character feel about puzzles

okay wait I love the shooting star comparison, a rapidly moving entity of destruction. is there also something in there about being beautiful from afar but deadly close up? because I think that'd also be cool. shooting stars in general are just cool. and since I mentioned magonia earlier now I'm reminded of this detail in the series where some shooting stars are actually just magonians sending messages to each other by tying them to an arrow and shooting them from ship to ship across the skyv(the ships are in the sky)

sometimes your immune system just doesn't work anymore and that's just how it is. I could make a joke here about yours failing you and letting you get sick but I don't know how to word that so I'm moving on.

electricity!! congratulations to this world on having electricity, doing better than the world i was reading about yesterday...in which it both did and didn't because it occupied two different times. main character was an elderly woman who did have access to electricity talking about a part of her life when she was young in which there wasn't. but mostly my thoughts rn are ooo more details about the world: they have electricity !!

This was positively delightful! not annoying in the slightest, I love learning about this world and about the paracosm as a whole.

I'm doing alright, doing schoolwork in the mornings and chilling the rest of the day (reading, writing, tumblr, things like that). And the car thing is mostly just like "really? I still have to deal with this?" because there is so much where it's like...I very clearly was not at fault in this situation. The police statement puts the other driver at 100% fault! My insurance puts the other driver at 100% fault! The statements the other driver gave are different; one mentions a motorcycle distracting her and the other she doesn't mention at all and claims she had a green arrow--which she couldn't have had, because I had the green. Like she's contradicting herself!! It's like my guy. why is this still being dragged out. thank you for the thumbs up tho <333

also yes!! smoothies!! Oh emotionally I am picking fresh fruit from some garden to put in the smoothies. I love fruit it's so good, and I also love you!! /p I hope you have/had a nice day as well

#quil's queries #ophelia nonsie #colored text #other's ocs #really went overboard on the colors this time because it's so blocky #bullet points be like that but it seemed the most efficient way to answer so!!#seriously I'm so intrigued by this world #your mind *chef kiss* incredible!!

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sazc94 · 3 years

Text

Pietro and Bunny

Here is my second entry for the wonderful @msmarvelwrites 2k Challenge.

This a spin-off from my Bucky fic: The three times Bucky broke your heart. Part 1 linked Here.

It follows the same timeline and explores the relationship of Pietro and Reader (Bunny) More.

Words 4890 ish

Themes. Angst, Suggestions of smut. But mostly lots and lots of fluff. 18+ Because of the smut suggestions.

Part 2. (Part 1)

2015. Pietro and you stayed in touch. Both getting swept away in your busy year. Pietro had gone into Business with Wanda creating a fashion company. His dad was helping to fund the start-up costs, but Pietro was never one to take a handout so worked an extra job, he mostly did courier services. this allowed him to be flexible with his days.

Meaning he was able to pick up supplies and do whatever else it was his sister had him running around the city for. It also helped pay towards the rent of his apartment, his father covering half. One day in the summer when Pietro was rushing around he entered into the Baxter building and literally ran smack into a head of blonde hair.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. This is my fault. I keep getting told I should slow down.” Pietro said bending offering a hand to the woman he had knocked over. “I’m just as much to blame, honestly I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going and all though I may be nicknamed The Invisible woman, I need to remember that I’m not actually invisible” replied the blonde brushing herself down.

She was pretty in that conventional way but her piercing blue eyes drew Pietro in. “Pietro”, he said sticking out his hand. “Susan, but you can call me Sue”, she replied shaking his hand.

Pietro and Susan began dating in the autumn. All though you and Pietro still stayed in touch. The contact was dwindling. He also found it incredibly hard not to call you by your old pet name. “Hey sis, Vis”. Pietro said walking into the small office space they rented in downtown NYC. Wanda was hard at work behind her sewing machine.

“So you’re dating Susan Storm,” Vision said. It wasn’t a question but Wanda’s eyes shot up from her machine to look at Pietro with an acquisitional look. This was news to her. She knew you were dating someone but Susan Storm was practically a celebrity with her brain and looks, plus her high profile relationships with Reed Richards and Victor von Doom. Not to mention her dad was a renowned Scientist too.

“How did you know?” Pietro asked grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl in the middle of the space. “Your pictures from last nights date are all over the internet. Someone called Prez Hilton broke the story” Vision said shrugging. Wanda shot Vision a puzzled look, he may be great with technology and smart enough to work with Tony Stuck, but Vision didn’t usually follow much on the internet. “Ah yes, Pepper Potts showed me how to set up google alerts”. Vision said before heading out the door.

2016

Pietro knew you and Bucky had grown closer over recent months, but it still took him by surprise when he heard from you that you had gotten back together. He knew he had no right to be jealous as it had ultimately been his decision to break up, and he was dating the stunning Sue Storm. But it didn’t stop the small seed of jealousy he felt.

What didn’t help matters was that Sue had been working later and later at the Baxter Building, and getting closer with her ex, Reed. Pietro tried to shrug it off but ultimately after almost a year of dating, he could see that Sue’s heart belonged to another, and if he was being honest. Part of his heart still belonged to his Bunny. So, after a night out in NYC Pietro had kissed Sue Storm goodnight for the final time.

Pietro respected you too much to ruin your newfound happiness with Bucky and it seemed like he had finally turned a leaf over. That was until he got a text from your cousin explaining that Bucky had been unable to get the time off for your Grandma’s funeral.

Pietro didn’t even think twice about using his links to his dad to secure a flight out of NYC for the funeral in September. His heart shattered when he saw you at the airport, with tear-stained cheeks, a red nose, and puffy eyes. He didn’t hesitate to pull you into a huge hug.

“Shhh Bunny” – the old pet name slipping out. “It’s okay, I’m here. She was a wonderful woman. She wouldn’t want all these tears” he said releasing you from his grip. It had been two years since you’d last seen each other in person. Other than the brown in your hair having slightly grown out, no doubt due to your mind being on more pressing matters. You looked exactly the same. His Bunny.

After the funeral Pietro planned to catch the first flight out of Miami back to NYC. With the launch of Scarlett Witch fast approaching Pietro didn’t want to leave his sister to deal with all the pressure herself. At least that’s what Pietro told himself was the reasoning. Truthfully it was that he couldn’t bear to be around you and not be with you.

But when your family had insisted on putting him up for the night and feeding him, he couldn’t refuse.

After the wake when your Mum had insisted on Pietro leaving the dishes, he grabbed two beers from the fridge and went looking for you. He found you sat on the private beach your grandma’s house backed on too.

You sat with one of Bucky’s jumpers wrapped around you. It wasn’t cold but still, you felt cold, so you had grabbed his jumper as a source of comfort and warmth. Pietro stopped for a second before swallowing. This wasn’t about him; this wasn’t about Bucky. This was about you and being there for you whilst you waded through this grief. 7

“Hey Y/N. I thought I’d find you here. Your grandma used to tell me about how she found the sea hypnotising” Pietro said sitting down on the sand before offering you one of the beers he had grabbed.

That night Pietro sat with you in solidarity offering you nothing more than friendship and a pillar of support whilst you cried and then laughed, and then cried some more reminiscing about your cherished times with both your now deceased grandparents.

After Pietro returned to NYC, he put the thought of you out of his head, instead, he turned his efforts to focus on the upcoming December launch party. Thanks to their dad’s connections. Wanda’s hard work and a few strategic tweets and IG posts from a hard-working friend who did add campaign work for a living there was a real buzz around Scarlett Witch.

“Hey Brother, I was thinking of asking Y/N to attend the launch and to wear something from the evening collection for the launch, Jane is in town and already said yes, she’s bringing her Boyfriend Thor, I extended two further invitations to them encase Thor’s brother Loki is around. What do you think?” Wanda said throwing herself onto the grey sofa opposite Pietro. They were at Pietro’s apartment as he had the most amount of spare room.

“Excellent idea, she should bring Bucky too,” Pietro said sipping on his coffee. Pietro wanted to remain in your life and after the funeral, your conversations had been a bit more frequent. Most importantly Pietro wanted you to be happy.

Pietro brought a date along to the event; her name was Crystal and they had been on a few dates before. However, they both had an understanding that this was more of a casual thing and that neither of them were looking for a relationship with each other. Crystal had gone off to schmooze with some of the guests when you arrived. Pietro made a mental note to introduce you both later, he was sure you would both get along with your similar senses of humour. Pietro couldn’t take his eyes off you the moment you entered the event. You looked stunning, Wanda had asked for Pietro’s input when choosing the outfits that You, Wanda and Jane were going to wear. Pietro had chosen a silver two-piece skirt and top for Jane, a scarlet red ensemble for his sister and a Black strapless dress, the top was form-fitting made from chiffon fabric, the skirt cut out the front made of black tulle sparkled with the touches of glitter.

Pietro had chosen the ensembles for two reasons, one they were undoubtedly the showstoppers from Wanda’s evening collection and they all complimented each other well. He made a mental note to ensure Peter Parker got a photo of the three of the ladies together before the evening got away from everyone.

“Bunny! I agree absolutely amazing. Bucky, you don’t look too bad yourself” Pietro said kissing you on the cheek. Pietro was wearing a deep blue suit; it made his hair and ice-blue eyes pop. Wanda had insisted on the blue over a grey suit Pietro had originally planned on wearing. Pietro didn’t miss the smile on your face after they had complimented you, it was as big and bright as it had been that final summer. And you've got a smile That can light up this whole town

After photos and ensuring everyone’s, drinks were full, Wanda and Pietro left the small group of old school friends in the private area of the event and made their way around the guests. The press contained fashion bloggers, small fashion magazines, social media influencers and gossip columnist too. Pietro found his way back to Crystal after he’d finished making the rounds. He was on his way to introduce you when he spotted an unfamiliar red head amongst the group.

Thor introduced her as Natasha, Pietro tried not to give away the surprise in his eyes, but he could sense that there was some tension as you avoided making eye contact with both Pietro and Bucky. Pietro kept his nose out of it for the most part, but when the pair of you said your farewells for the evening, he couldn’t help but assure you that he was there if you wanted to talk.

“Was that Natasha Romanoff I saw hanging around Thor and Y/N’s group most of the evening?” Wanda asked when she and Pietro slipped into the back of the waiting car. “Yes it would appear so, did you know she was coming?” He asked loosening his tie. “Vis said Jane had asked to bring a friend along as Loki couldn’t make it, I told him to tell her it was fine as she technically had four invites. I didn’t realise it was going to be her”, Wanda explained, there was an emphasis on her.

Regardless of her brother's relationship status with yourself she genuinely liked you and always would, her loyalties lied with you and as far as Wanda was concerned, she didn’t even want to know Natasha, something about her didn’t sit right with her from the few interactions they’d had over the years.

“Will Crystal meet you at your apartment? I didn’t see her as we were clearing away”, Wanda said changing the subject. “Huh? Oh, no she’s meeting her friends downtown at the Voodoo Lounge, something about a magic night” Pietro said looking out the window as the streets of NYC blurred into one. He couldn’t help but worry about you, you could put on a bright smile and laugh all you liked, but Pietro knew when you were faking.

2017

The launch of Scarlet Witch had gone better than Pietro and Wanda had hoped. When the label opened up to online orders in February, they had sold out of everything in 30 minutes flat. Now they were looking at opening up an in-person store in the lower east side sometime early next year. Pietro was working late one night in the office when Vision turned up.

“Hey Vision, it's good to see you but Wanda’s not here,” Pietro said sitting back down behind his desk. It was late and the numbers had started to dance around the screen but Pietro was determined to get these figures finished before the weekend. It was the least he could do as Wanda had been working flat out, she insisted on sewing as many of the items herself as possible, and when she had hired two seamstresses, Wanda still checked all their work.

“Thank you, Pietro, but I know she is back at our apartment. It is actually you that I came to see” Vision said. James or Vision as everyone called him very rarely looked nervous, yes he sometimes missed social cues but he was never one to act nervous. Pietro sensing this was important saved his spreadsheets and shut down his computer.

“What’s going on Vis?” Pietro asked walking over to the sofa area where vision, stood awkwardly. “Traditionally, this question would be asked to your father, but as your father was not in your lives much until recent years, I felt it better to ask you” Vision babbled on. Pietro had a pretty good where this was going, but this was Visions plan and Pietro wasn’t about to jump the gun, besides if this was going where he thought it was, it was only right to make him suffer ever so slightly.

“Well Vision, I’m all ears. What is it you want to ask?” Pietro asked grinning. “Well you know how much I adore your sister Wanda, and we have been together a good many years now. So I would like to ask your permission for your sister's hand in Marriage” Vision asked. Vision’s heart was pounding so loud and fast he thought that he might collapse. Pietro’s eyes watered, he was happy for his sister and he was of course going to say yes, but he wanted to have a bit of fun first. He quickly stood and turned away from Vision, heading towards the small fridge of the small office kitchen.

“So you want to marry my sister, are you certain about this Vis? Because once that ring is on her finger, there is no backing down, even if you get cold feet.” Pietro remarked. “I assure you Mr Maximoff, I want this with my whole self” Vison responded. Pietro couldn’t continue with the charade anymore. “Of course you have my blessing Vision, I would be honoured to call you brother,” Pietro said handing Vision a beer.

Vision proposed to Wanda that summer on the fourth of July. The three of them attended Tony Stark’s exclusive fourth of July bash at Stark Tower. Vision had a good relationship with Stark and Pepper was a hopeless romantic at heart. Shortly before the fireworks, Vision and Wanda wandered off to a private balcony three floors above the outside decking where everyone else would watch. Tony introduced the display then the three of them slipped out of the crowd as the fireworks got underway.

Tony had his AI software J.A.R.V.I.S set to record the whole thing. As the firework display got underway. Vision got down on one knee and popped the question. Wanda of course squealed and said yes between tears. That’s when Pietro, Pepper and Tony appeared with glasses of champagne and toasted to the happy couple. “Congratulations Sis, also please let me be there when you call Y/N and tell her, I know she is absolutely going to flip her shit when she finds out,” Pietro said kissing his sister on the cheek.

Sure enough, Pietro was right, three days later when Wanda Facetimed you to show of the ring your excited screams were loud enough to be heard all through NYC. “Oh my god. He did it, he finally proposed! I was wondering if he was ever going to pull his finger out and propose. Oh Wands I am so happy for you, you deserve this” you said. Wanda was so elated she missed the small crack in your voice towards the end of the sentence, but Pietro didn’t.

“Here Pietro want’s to say hi. Go on tell her all about how you had known about this since March! I’m going to get ready Visions parent’s got into town today and we’re meeting them for dinner before they see a show tonight,” Wanda passed the phone to Pietro before heading off to her shower. Pietro had come round specifically to hear the call. Pietro waited for the door to close before he turned his attention back to your face on his sister's screen.

“Everything okay Y/N?” Pietro asked. You sighed before letting your hair out of its ponytail, You were avoiding the question. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I’m tired, going out later with Peggy Carter, she’s the girlfriend of Bucky’s teammate, Steve. We’re going to get some lunch and do a bit of shopping, Steve’s working on some projects and Bucky said he’s running some extra training drills at the stadium. Not that he needs to the season doesn’t start for another two months, oh I’m sorry. I’m wittering on, how are you? Had any good dates recently?” you asked forcing your voice to be light and carefree.

Pietro knew what you were doing but it wasn’t his place to call you out on lying. “Naa, not really. None that would ever go anywhere” Pietro said. The two of you stayed on facetime for a few more short minutes before Pietro reluctantly advised he had to get going to the office.

September 2017

“So Y/N I have a very important question, will you be one of my Bridesmaids?” Wanda asked. Pietro walked into Wanda’s office just in time to hear you scream your response. “OH MY GOD, ARE YOU KIDDING OF COURSE I WILL” Wanda moved the phone from her ears and looked up at her brother who just grinned. “You owe me 20 bucks I told you she would scream,” Pietro said making himself comfortable in the chair opposite his sister's desk.

“ I should be offended, but I’m in too much of a great mood to care” you chuckled. “Oh, is that so?” Wanda teased. Pietro felt sick, had Bucky proposed? Worse, were you pregnant? “I got offered this amazing job opportunity, it would be working for Stark Industries, Pepper Potts approached me directly about it the other week, I shot it down but she called me again today doubling the offer,” you squealed.

The weight that had threatened to crush Pietro lifted, not that his sister hadn’t noticed the change in his complexion a few moments ago.

“Oh my god Y/N, That’s amazing! Are you going to take it? I miss you and would love to have you nearby like old times. And I am not only saying that so you can do my wedding planning for me” Wanda sang. “I don’t know, I said I would think it over and get back to her after the weekend, I’m going to talk it through with Bucky tonight” you replied. “It sounds like a great opportunity Y/N” Pietro responded with earnest.

“Huh, that’s weird, I wonder what she’s doing here,” you said out loud “Who’s where?” asked Wanda. “Oh um nothing, look I got to go I just got to Buck’s and I’m cooking dinner, going to talk to him about Tony’s offer,” you said before hanging up. Wanda and Pietro just looked at each other. Pietro got up to leave but Wanda shot him a look as if to say she wasn’t finished with him.

“You still love her” she spoke plainly. “He doesn’t deserve her. He’s always posting pictures of him and that Natasha doing “Official” Lions events” Pietro replied simply. “You are right brother, he doesn’t deserve her, but like I told you all those years ago. If you had asked her she would have waited. You don’t get to complain that she moved on with someone who was a big part of her life for 13 or so years” replied Wanda.

She was right and Pietro knew it. He sighed before lifting his gaze to meet his sister's cold blue eyes. “You’re right.” He said simply before exiting the room.

Pietro awoke to his phone ringing at 2 am, he wasn’t going to answer it until he saw your name and the picture of the pair of you from Uni flash up on his phone. “Y/N? Is everything okay? It’s 2 am.” Pietro asked rubbing a hand along his face. You didn’t respond.#

“Y/N, are you safe? Should I call Bucky?” he asked urgency surging in his voice. “NO!” you practically shouted. “Sorry, no please don’t call Bucky,” you asked quietly.

Pietro shifted leaning over to turn on his bedside lamp. “Bunny, you’re scaring me, what’s going on?” Pietro pleaded. The comfort in his voice was enough to break you all over again. You started sobbing all over again. How you had any tears left was beyond you.

“I’ll fucking kill him” Pietro growled. Pietro knew, the pictures Bucky had been posting on IG, the tears now, the way you had withdrawn recently. You didn’t need to say it for him to know. “Please don’t, I don’t have enough money to bail you out of prison” you managed to squeak.

Pietro felt his heart shatter, all he had wanted since you two had started dating was to save you from the heartbreak you had experienced in the summer of 2010 and he had failed you. That night Pietro stayed on the phone with you until 4 am where you finally fell asleep exhausted from the day's turmoil.

May 2018

Pietro and Wanda had helped you apartment hunt. They helped decorate and furnish your apartment ready for your move to the Big Apple in January. Wanda had introduced you to her friends slash employees but to Wanda, they really were her friends: Doreen Green, Janet Van Dyne, Julia Carpenter and Laura Kinney. Including you on many girls nights.

Vision and Pietro always walked you home after nights out. Wanda made sure to invite you to brunch with her and Vision when Pietro was attending. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to give you and Pietro another shot, it’s just you weren’t certain he would want you, after all, Bucky had really done a number on you again.

Sighing you picked up your phone and decided to take a leap of faith and text him, the two of you hadn’t spent any time alone together since you had moved in January.

Pietro’s Pov

Pietro’s phone buzzed. You, me and that little cafe in times square tomorrow = date? – Y/N x Pietro was stunned, he was sure that the time for you guys to be a couple had long passed. “Brother, are you listening?” Wanda asked agitated at her brother's lack of respect, the two of them were going through the plans for the rest of the year. Plans for when they would drop certain collections, run certain in-store promos. When they would run online promo’s.

“Sorry, it’s just Y/N just text me, asking me on a date” Pietro’s voice came out dazed. All though Wanda was miffed, she couldn’t help but smile. Looks like Y/N had finally listened to the girls last night when they went out for Monday night happy hour. “You had best text her back then brother” She responded raising her eyebrows at Pietro. I thought you’d never ask. How does 5 pm work? Pietro shot back.

Perfect x Your response came through almost immediately.

Your Pov

You got to the café early, you were too nervous to focus on anything in the office. And as you were only scheduled to work until four, you decided it was just easier to go to the café and wait with a book or something, you had to deal with this nervous energy somehow. You walked in expecting he’d be late, but Pietro got there early and he stood and waved. You walked to him Pietro pulled your chair out and helped you in. Pietro sat down opposite you and shot you a small nervous grin.

“I ordered you a hot chocolate and a cookie, I know how much you like hot chocolate even if it’s warm out like today,” he said shyly. “Thank you,” you said, you felt yourself blush. For goodness sake Y/N this is Pietro, you dated him for three years get a grip you silently berated yourself.

As the date got underway you felt yourself relax and slip into a comfortable bubble, you told Pietro about a recent mishap where one of your colleagues Darcy Lewis had accidentally thrown toner waste all over you.

You couldn’t help but smile as Pietro threw his head back laughing like a little kid. He took your hand and rubbed small circles on the back of it, that familiar feeling made your stomach erupt in butterflies.

I've been spending the last eight months Thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end But on a Wednesday in a cafe I watched it begin again.

December 2017 Pietro’s Pov. The snow was falling, and the streets of New York City were quitter than usual, a sign that Christmas was just around the corner. You had finished for a nice long Christmas break earlier that week and last night Pietro had taken you out for drinks and dinner as a surprise. However, due to the snow the restaurant had been unable to open as staff couldn’t get in due to all the delays on the subway. Pietro had felt crestfallen.

Right up until you had suggested that the pair of you skipped dinner and went back to Pietro’s straight for dessert. Pietro had struggled to leave you this morning. As he only had a few things to deal with before Scarlett Witch shut down for three weeks for a well-earned extended Holiday break he hadn’t left until later that morning around 10:30.

You had once again found your way back to the bright bubbly person you and everyone else knew you to be. Pietro as always being that safe place for you to heal. The way you danced around the kitchen cooking pancakes had Pietro beside himself. You really were ultraviolet. That fire you ignited, Good, Bad and undecided, Burns when I stand beside it Your light is ultraviolet. Pietro thought to himself.

All though you had only been back together since May this time Pietro was never going to let you again.

Pietro was leaving the office for a late lunch when his phone pinned with a google alert. James “Bucky” Barnes announces engagement to Natasha Romanoff! Read the headline. Fuck. That piece of shit. Pietro felt rage on behalf of you. He knocked on Wanda’s door. “Hey, Wanda. I know were almost done here anyway, but I got to go early” Pietro shifted uncomfortably.

“Why?” Wanda asked simply. They were almost done but Pietro was meant to be shutting down the website whilst Wanda finalised everyone’s surprise Christmas bonuses. Pietro didn’t say anything simply handing his phone to his sister. Wanda scanned the headline and the article. Sucking in a deep breath. “Go. I’ve got this. Go check on Y/N” she said her eyes softening.

Pietro practically raced home. Just as he was coming out the subway his phone rang, caller ID showing Sam. “What the fuck is that dickhead playing at?!” Sam asked. Pretty much the entire friend group had cut ties with Bucky after they found out he had been cheating on you again.

“I have no idea, but he better hope to god I never see him, because I will not hesitate to rip him a new one, look I’m just letting myself into my apartment building, Y/N stayed here last night as she didn’t have work today and we’re meant to be going to Stark’s Christmas gala this evening. I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later. Pietro said ringing off before Sam could respond. Pietro knew Sam would understand.

“Hey handsome how was your day?” you asked not taking your eyes away from the street below. Pietro breathed a sigh of relief, he was certain he would have come home to find you curled up in bed, or worse the floor crying. You were happy together but that didn’t make Bucky’s betrayal sting any less.

“It was good, busy” he replied taking off his coat and walking over to join you at the window seat. Wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. He smiled to himself as he caught sight of the kids below. He could faintly see in the reflection of the window that your eyes were rimmed with red.

“How about you Bunny? I saw a news alert. I’m guessing you know about the engagement?” he asked. You hummed a response. Pietro knew you loved him; he also knew that you knew how much he loved you. But that didn’t make seeing you hurt any easier. Suddenly you shifted turning around to face him. His floppy silver-blonde hair covering those beautiful ice blue eyes, they looked at you with such love and endearment, they also spoke a silent promise. You kissed him gently on the lips before standing up.

“Come on Quicksilver let's shower before the Stark Christmas Gala,” you said pulling your boyfriend along behind you shooting him a knowing grin. God, he fucking loved you.

All this time how could you not know, baby? You belong with me

#pietro maximoff #pietro x reader #pietro x you #pietro fluff #bucky x natasha #wanda x vision #msmarvelwrites2k #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #avengers au #pietro x y/n #soft pietro

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pbandjesse · 3 years

Text

After another 350 miles we have made it to South Carolina! Specifically we have made it to Myrtle Beach. And while we didn't get to see a lot of it this seems like an exceptional camp ground. I'm glad we are here for two days. We might end up not doing the planned things tomorrow and just enjoying it here because it seems excellent. We'll see what tomorrow brings.

Last night after I got my post up I sat and enjoyed the stars a little longer before I joined Jess in the car. We turned off the lights only to discover that the trunk open light was on. And had been. I didn't know what to do about that and was very worried it was going to somehow drain the battery. So after a quick Google I found someone who also wanted to leave their Crosstrek open for camping reasons and they said you can use a carabiner and engage the lock so it thinks it's closed it will work. But I was exhausted and couldn't get it and was getting a little worked up. So we just cracked the window a little and hoped it wouldn't get to hot or anything inside. And honestly it was fine.

Except we both had nightmares and the air mattress deflated. To close the trunk we had to let some air out and it just leaked out all night til we woke up on the floor. Ugh.

But we both woke up in a good mood. Absolutely everything outside was wet. But thankfully the weird moisture stayed out there and we were comfortable.

We went to get washed and dressed. Apparently a toilet overflowed and we had to work around that but it was okay in the end. We had a nice chat with a lady and her dog. And then walked to the beach to see the ocean. We collected shells and stones but we didn't go to far. The paths to the beach from our campsite were not well marked and we were afraid we would get lost so we didn't stay to long. We had to get on the road again.

We checked out right at 9. And Jess drove the first leg. Which I appreciated. I was in charge of music and eventually a podcast. I also drew for a bit. But mostly we just talked or enjoyed the scenery.

It really was beautiful. We saw a lot of different types of trees and nature. Laughed about all the bridges we had to keep crossing. And right around lunch time we got to New Bern. The birthplace of Pepsi!

We went to the little store front that used to be the soda fountain. And it was really cute. We got shirts and post cards and chatted with the women who worked there. I liked seeing all the old stuff and the different ways things have changed over time. The international cans were interesting. And we both got squished pennies. Excellent.

We went to have lunch next. We did stop in a few little stores. But Jess wanted to go eat on the water.

This was a weird place. We agreed it was trying to be fancy. The decore and the prices. But the food was not anything special. And the menu claimed to have a vegan option available and so I asked and the waitress was literally like 'well what do you want them to make?' and I was like. What? And she was like well what would you order somewhere else, he usually just comes up with something. I was honestly shocked. Finally she said it usually a stuffed pepper but mainly it's a surprise. And I was like. I can't order a surprise. I will have a salad. But honestly it put a bad taste in my mouth about the place.

And we had sat outside because it was nice but there were so many gnats we were so uncomfortable. They were dying in our drinks. So we asked to move inside and it was better. And the salad (and risotto Jess ordered) were good enough.

But it was basically time to go. We stopped so Jess could get a coffee and we had a nice little conversation with the girls there. And then back to the car.

It was my turn to drive for the long haul of it. And I didn't mind. I got my drink and my snack and changed back into my slippers and we were off.

We drove for a while before we stopped for gas. It was almost 4 hours to South Carolina. And it was a beautiful drive. But I was getting very sore. I was really glad when we crossed over the state line.

Myrtle Beach is really large. And has a whole international airport. Which keeps flying over head and has been the only downside to this campsite so far. But when we got here we were both like. Look at the trees!! And the first park ranger we spoke to was so nice. He had very kind eyes and we followed his directions to go check in.

And once we did it was really easy. We are in a loop farther from the beach but close to a bathroom. It's much more woods than I expected. But in the best way. It's a lot of RVs. And we have a nice little wooded corner to back into.

Jess handled cooking while I set up the bed and lights. We had charged everything during the drive. And since we had a better system this time it didn't take as long to set up. So once we ate we spent sunset taking a walk looking at everyone's set ups. The sky was pink and all the light was lovely and soft.

We got back to our campsite and got out stuff to go shower. Which was an adventure only because the nozzles we're confusing. But it was much easier this time to get a proper shower. Jess even washed her hair. I'll do that tomorrow. But I am thankful to be clean.

I walked back alone while she finished getting herself together. And now I'm just chilling in the camp chair under the string lights. Jess is laying in the car. I think I will add more air to the mattress just in case but for now I'm going to chill out here. James is going to FaceTime me soon. I miss them a lot.

Tomorrow we're going to explore more. And spend time with nature. If we get bored there is a lot to do around here though but I'm not worried about that. This seems like a great place.

Sleep well everyone. Take care of each other. Goodnight!!

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i-know-like-four-things · 4 years

Text

The First Pride

Rating: gen

Warnings: none

Parings: Destiel

Summary: Dean never had a good experience with the gay community, and between his homophobic dad and the hunter lifestyle, that wasn't out of the ordinary. But maybe this pride would change things for Dean.

A/N: so @malmuses and @lizleeships wrote and drew, respectively, for a fic called “In Your Own Time” that I absolutely loved. Anyway, I’m feeling gay and since I can’t go to a pride parade, I’m making the boys go.

Read on AO3 here, or continue reading below. Thanks so much, love you all.

The first time Dean heard about “the gays” he was ten. Dean remembered it fairly vividly, not because of the gay thing, but because it was the same night that Sammy finally started to figure out his math flashcards. He was only doing addition, and it's not like little six-year-old Sammy really knew the addition yet, but Dean saw the logic of it click in Sammy’s eyes. Dean could always remember the little things like that, when Sammy got something, because Sammy was always so proud of himself, and Dean was even more proud.

But that's not the point. Right as Dean was explaining to Sammy that “there is more than one way to make ten,” John was having a very heated conversation with some other hunters. They had just gotten back, and Dean was trying his hardest to not throw himself at his dad’s feet and prove how good he was. Instead, Dean was being more subtle. Good boys help their younger brothers with school work, and surely his dad must realize that. Anyway, that was the only reason Dean wasn’t in the middle of the conversation.

But hunters are a loud breed, and they were talking about politics. Really, they were only talking politics because every hunter there had had at least four beers and the room reeked of the stuff. They were wasted and wanted to complain about something. So they did. Mostly, Dean didn’t understand what they were talking about, but he caught a couple of things. He heard the words “dirty” and “homo” and “fag,” but that was about it.

Dean was ten, so of course he knew completely what all of those words meant. “Fag” and “homo” were things you did not want to be. You did not talk about those things, unless you were saying that you didn’t like them. So this was simply normal background noise for a slightly memorable day.

------

When Dean was 17 (well 22, according to his I.D.) he was trying to prove to his dad that he could handle talking to witnesses. This witch was killing young, attractive people, and they couldn’t figure out why.

So Dean decided to go to a bar and ask around, see if anyone knew anything. Dean, being the clever kid that he was, accidentally went to the only gay bar in that tiny town.

He didn’t notice at first. He just thought that the owner hired a weird decorator who couldn’t pick a color palate to roll with and who liked glitter more than any person should. Dean didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, until he saw a boy barely older than himself, wearing nothing but obscenely short jean shorts.

Dean just went with it because he was working, after all. He went to the bar, hoping to flirt with some ladies. He sat, ordered a beer from a guy (girl?) who was dressed in all black and had piercings all over his (her? their?) face, and who gave Dean a disapproving look at his drink order. Dean paid the bartender no mind and just waited for someone in the crowd to sit next to him.

The only person who did was a huge man, with well-defined muscles, and a beard for days. Dean made some awkward chit-chat with the guy until he had had enough beers to lose some of his inhibitions. Dean made an excuse to use the bathroom.

He was washing his hands and checking himself out (he looked hot, thank you very much), when the guy from the bar came in. Dean said a half-aborted greeting before the man threw him against the sink and attacked his mouth.

Now, Dean had had plenty of affairs in his short life, but he had never been kissed like this man kissed him. It was all tongues and teeth and hot breath that tasted like alcohol, and it was the best experience of his life. This man was power and dominance and sex incarnate, and Dean felt like he could have fallen in love right there.

They broke the kiss and just breathed in each other’s air. Dean could barely breathe, but this guy looked about as bothered as someone who had just gotten off the couch. Then, the man took his large, beefy hand and placed it on Dean’s shoulder. Dean’s knees started to bend before a panic sounding like the boys who said “that’s gay” and his father screaming “faggot” resounded in his head. Dean lost it. His palms started sweating and his ribs started suffocating his lungs and his tongue was twice its normal size for some reason. And someone was screaming. They were screaming these horrible words and part of Dean hated that person and part of him thought they were right.

It turns out that Dean was the one screaming, and he barely dogged the guy slapping him before he ran out of the bar. Dean didn’t sleep that night, and he just told his dad and brother that the bar was a dead end.

They never did solve that case. Dean never figured out why.

------

There were many more instances like that throughout Dean’s life, but he mostly blocked them out. Dean was a man and a hunter at that, so he didn’t need to concern himself with things like sexuality or romance.

It's not like he was never curious. He did some googling once or twice, trying to figure out what he was, and why he likes the things he does. But he never let himself call himself anything. Also, he basically gave up on romance after Lisa. If she couldn’t handle his life, then no one could.

But that’s not important.

------

It was a disgustingly muggy summer day in Kansas and Dean was dying. Normally, Dean didn’t mind a little heat, but he did not like the heat and humidity combo. It made him feel like an animal and he hated it. It was eight o’clock in the morning and Dean was sweating like a whore in church. He was sitting in his room in the bunker trying to cool down, when Cas walked in the room.

“Hello Dean,” Cas began, as usual.

“Hey Cas. What’s up buddy?” Dean asked.

Cas’ face had not changed at all, except for a tiny little microscopic wrinkle between his eyebrows, which told Dean that he was uncomfortable. Dean turned his full attention to Cas and waited for him to speak.

“There is an event in Kansas City today. I would like you to take me. I think we should go now.” Dean raised his eyebrows at Cas’ determined tone, but stood up all the same. He put on a plain grey tee shirt and jeans (Dean Winchester does not do shorts) and tied a flannel around his waist. Dean didn’t say anything, just walked out to baby and expected Cas to follow.

Cas did just as Dean expected him to, and they both got in the car and left.

Another thing about the heat that Dean hated, was that it always made him feel bored. Like, it was too hot to wash baby or do anything really interesting. So the excuse to drive around with his best friend was a lot more appealing than sitting with his thoughts.

“So,” Dean began once they were on the main road, away from the bunker, “what’s in KC? A bee convention?”

The corner of Cas’ lip twitched a little, and Dean knew that Cas liked it. Cas twisted his mouth in a way that told Dean that Cas was in a mood to be stubborn.

“I’m not telling,” was all Cas said as he crossed his arms over his chest in a way that was painfully human.

“You’re not telling me?” Dean asked, incredulous. “Then how will I know where to go?”

“I’ll direct you to a parking lot, and then we will walk.”

“We have to walk?”

“Yes, Dean. We will walk. Humans evolved to be bipeds and walk on two legs, so that’s what we are going to do. Walk.”

Dean gave the biggest eye roll he could muster and kept on driving. Cas put in the mix tape that Dean made him, that he always seemed to carry around everywhere. (Cas was also the only one besides Dean who could choose the music, but that is neither here nor there.)

They drove for a while. When they got to the outskirts of Kansas City, Cas started giving directions. Dean felt that they were arbitrary directions, like Cas was just taking him around. Eventually, Cas directed him to a parking lot, and Dean put baby in a corner (heh) as far away from all other cars as he could get. Cas got out with and started walking purposefully away. Dean locked the car and followed.

Cas walked out of the parking lot and down the street, never speaking once. They walked for just a bit, before they turned a corner and Dean felt the wind get knocked out of him.

There were fucking rainbows everywhere. Men in banana hammocks. Women with only pasties on. People in leather and fluffy outfits. There was so much glitter Dean felt like he was choking on it.

They walked into the most crowded part of what was evidently a pride parade. Cas was walking close enough to Dean that he could feel the heat of his body, but not so close that they were touching. Dean was just following Cas’ lead, too beside himself to make any decisions of his own.

Good lord, it was hot. There were so many goddamned people, so many colors, so much glitter. God, everything smelled like sweat and bodies. Normally that smell meant a hunt, but now Dean was just trying to convince his heart that nothing was trying to kill him. He was fine. There was no danger, no need to run, he was fine.

Cas was walking over to one of the booths, filled with colorful fabric that made Dean’s skin itch. Dean was following Cas, walking just a half-step behind him, when he was struck with the smell of stale beer. That, with the stench of bodies was not an unfamiliar smell, but for some reason it turned Dean’s stomach in the most unpleasant way.

Cas was standing off to the side of the booth, looking at flags or something, when a man passed by Dean. It was the most casual gesture, but he pushed on the top of Dean’s shoulder in a way that had Dean’s knees shaking . If he didn’t feel like vomiting before, he sure as hell did now.

Apparently he had stopped walking and Cas was calling his name, but all Dean could think of was his dad screaming at him. How dare Dean not have a date with a girl? Why did Dean like Harrson Ford so damn much? Was Dean a homo? A pussy? A faggot?

“Dean. Dean. Dean!” Cas was screaming at him and Dean was hyperventilating. Jesus it was hot. There were so many people.

And then Dean was hotter but the world was brown and soft and smelled like the air before lightning and grass after it had rained. Cas was wrapping his arms around Dean, crushing Dean to his chest and stroking his hair. Dean shoved his nose into Cas’ shoulder and just tried to breathe, tried to not hear his dad anymore, tried to not hear the voices of hunters he knew from long ago, tried not to hear the voices of mean boys in the locker room.

Eventually, Dean’s breathing became more regular, and the tears that he would deny having shed stopped flowing, and he was okay. He stayed like that for a moment longer than necessary, just breathing in the smell of Cas. After a while, he pulled himself away from Cas, ready to deal with whatever the hell that was.

“Dean?” was the only thing Cas said, eyes open and pleading. He just wanted to make sure Dean was okay, and that made him feel worse.

“Sorry, man,” Dean said, running his fingers over the back of his head, “I guess I had some sort of panic attack or something. Sorry to be such a bummer.” Dean was deflecting harder than he ever had before. This day was one for the books, for sure.

“Dean, it’s okay. Every person’s first pride can bring up different emotions. Would you like to talk about what is troubling you?” And, of course, Cas saw right through his bullshit.

“Nah, man. I think I just got overwhelmed with all the people. It's no biggie. Hey, why’d you wanna come here, anyway? Not that I don’t support… this,” Dean gestured wildly, “but I just thought, ya know, you aren’t human so this wouldn’t apply to you. Or whatever.” Eloquent, Winchester.

Cas just gave his version of a grin and made no comment on Dean’s rambling. “I may not be human, but I pass as one. And, either way, I am living in the world as a human and I do not exactly conform to human standards of gender and sexuality. I am a genderless wave of celestial intent, and I feel attraction to all genders. I thought that, if I am living as a human, I may as well celebrate in the ways they do. Besides,” for the first time in Cas’ speech he looked away from Dean, “I thought you might enjoy it.”

Dean was baffled by this. How could Cas think he could enjoy this?

“Cas, I’m not… you know. I, uh, like chicks, man.”

“Dean,” Cas looked at him sympathetically, “it's okay. I know.”

Dean stood up then, pissed right the fuck off. “What the fuck do you mean ‘it’s okay’? What the fuck do you mean you know? You don’t know shit, Cas. You don’t know jack shit about me, or what I’ve been through, or who I am. You don’t know Cas!”

And people were looking now, and Cas was standing up and holding out his hands like he was trying to calm a spooked stallion. “Dean, stop. I did not mean to imply that I know what your experience has been. I just-”

“You just what, Cas? You don’t know how awful my dad was. You don’t know--. God, Cas you don’t know.” Dean was looking at Cas now, swept up in the depth of his eyes and all he could think of was blue and how much Cas simply did not know.

“What, Dean? What do I not know?” Dean couldn’t tell if that was fear or pity in Cas’ eyes, maybe it was both, but he decided he did not like it.

“God, Cas, you don’t fucking know --” and then they were kissing because for some reason, that was the thing that made sense to Dean in this moment. Later Dean would question why, in the middle of a gay panic, he would decide that making out with his best friend, who is a dude, was the most logical thing to do, but right then it was. Dean unceremoniously crashed his lips into Cas’, and they were the best fucking things Dean had ever tasted.

Cas seemed like he didn’t understand what was happening at first. He just stood there, until Dean almost stopped slobbering all over Cas’ face, before he got with the program. Cas fisted Dean’s short hair, pulling until it hurt, and he was kissing him back. Cas’ tongue was in Dean’s mouth and his chest was pressed against Dean.

They pulled off after a few minutes, and there was some cheering from off to their left, which made Dean blush. He hid his face by burying it in Cas’ coat, when Cas said, “What don’t I know, Dean?”

“That I fucking love you, you big asshole.” Dean grinned and punched the shoulder that wasn’t currently hiding his face.

Cas was silent for a moment, but eventually he replied. “I knew, you dummy. I know, and I love you too.”

Dean pulled away, and looked at this man, this angel, in complete awe of how he was in Dean’s life. But he decided to ride this wave of maybe-a-little-bit-more-than-nothingness that he was feeling and not overthink anything. He was just going to hold his angel’s hand and enjoy this parade.

#Destiel #destiel fic #dean winchester #castiel #homophobia #internalized homophobia #pride #pride parade #Cameron Black's Reads #My writing

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catchester · 4 years

Text

12 Days of Christmas

Title: Ten Lords a Leaping

Authors: @evieplease and @catchester

Which character: Actor!Tom and OFC Rocky

Genre: Humour/Explicit

Fic Summary: Tom and Rocky spend their first Christmas as a couple and Rocky meets Tom’s Mum for the first time. Expect 12 gifts, too much boozy, bad puns and lots of fun!

Rating: Mature

Previous Chapters: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17138390/chapters/40304798

Chapter 13 - 10 Lords a Leaping

Knowing that the Ten Lords a Leaping was looming, I’d spent ages wracking my brain to come up with something for Tom’s Tenth Day of Christmas present. Why did I ever agree to this mad scheme? But after his Nine Ladies Dancing I needed to raise the bar. Wait. Oh dear. If I couldn’t get Lords to Leap, maybe Tom and I could do the Leaping? From barre to bar? There are loads of pubs with Lords and Royalty in their names in the greater London metropolitan area!

An hour with google maps and Bob’s yer uncle! I had a list of pubs and a walking map. There were some really terrible pub names out there! I mean, The Royal Flush? Really? They’d better have excellent plumbing!

However, I found the best, most wonderful name of all. The Queen’s Scepter!! I can’t even think of it without laughing out loud! Though it sounds like it ought to be the name of a sex shoppe where one can buy really quality dildoes.

I arranged our pub ‘leaping’ so that all our stops were within walking distance. We’ll take a cab to the first one, because it’s The Queen’s Scepter, (snicker!) which was farthest away, walk from pub to pub, and take a cab back from the last one, as we’ll probably be legless by then.

I checked I had all my ‘leaping’ gear. I needed to be comfortable and warm for a long day in and out of doors. I wore the red wool peacoat that Tom had given me for Christmas of course, a rather deep cut v-neck black jumper, and my good jeans, the ones that cup my arse just right. I bounced on the toes of my old comfy black trainers, eager to get to our adventures.

A beaming Tom met me on the stoop, pulling me indoors, wrapping his arms around me and bending me back to kiss me as if he hadn’t kissed me in months, instead of just this morning.

Naturally, I gave as good as I got, my tongue dancing with his, my hands in his hair and my leg winding around his thigh. Finally he let me up for air and grinned down at me.

“Now will you tell me what you have planned for today?”

I grinned slyly back. The only clue I’d given him was to wear comfortable shoes. He’d taken it a little far, if you ask me, he looked more like he was going hiking, but that wax jacket with a hoodie underneath did suit him, and he was in those lovely old, soft, black jeans so I wasn't about to ask him to change! I kind of liked the tan Caterpillar boots, they gave his posh image a working man’s edge, which oddly suited him. I realised I’d been staring at him for longer than was perhaps appropriate.

“Um, right.” I surreptitiously checked for drool in the guise of fixing my lipstick. That might have been more suave if it hadn’t been lip balm.

“This was a tricky one! I mean, short of setting Parliament on fire, where the hell am I going to get Ten Lords a Leaping?! And anyway the lazy sods aren’t even in session!” I waved my arms about in exasperation.

Tom looked faintly alarmed. “Well, not to mention that it is Christmas, and you’re not Guy Fawkes, after all!”

“And aren’t you glad I’m not!” I wriggled my bum and batted my eyelashes at him, just to remind him how lucky he is. “So, while I wouldn’t mind doing something that would shift that lot off their arses, I can hardly wait to see what you’ve laid on for Eleven Pipers Piping, and I don’t want to be languishing at Her Majesty’s pleasure for it! Plus, your Nine Ladies Dancing was so brilliant! I needed to raise the barre, so to speak… And anyway, they say that ten out of Ten Lords proof-er drinking in the daytime!”

Tom glanced out the window at the chilly, grey day. “So we’re going to a pub...?” He frowned. “What does that have to do with Lords a Leaping?”

I crossed my arms and shook my head in mock disapproval at his slowness.

“Well, I figured that if the lazy bastards won’t leap to it, it’ll have to be our job! And there are loads of pubs named after Lords and other Royalty, so we’re going on a Ten Lords Pub Leaping!”

Tom choked “Good Lord! That’s…so bad, it’s actually good!”

“Why thank you,” I curtsied. “So you approve, then?”

“Certainly! It sounds marvelous fun!”

“Well, I’m glad I won’t have to gin up any excitement, because I’ve been tankering with the list of pubs and maps all morning!”

“And will we have to order particular drinks at each of these noble establishments?”

“Nah. Let’s just play it by beer.”

“ Well, you’ve done an excellent job, as far as I can see.”

“It’s ale in a days work!”

Pulling up to the Queen’s Sceptre, Tom stepped from the cab onto the kerb and gallantly offered me a hand out. I stifled a snicker. If my Posh Idiot wants to treat me like a grand lady, am I going to object?

Besides, his hand was warm when I slid my cold fingers into his palm, and when he tugged me onto my feet he met me with a kiss. I shivered in the cool damp air and he bundled me into the pub.

The Queen’s Sceptre was a traditional olde worlde pub with dark beams overhead and a quiet fire in the fireplace, immediately warming us.

Tom helped me off with my coat. “Thank you again for my pretty wool coat, Tom.” I stroked the sleeve. Tom smiled, pleased. “It’s totally baa-aa-d-ass!”

Now he groaned and rolled his eyes. “You know, when I was shopping for your gift, I had a conversation with myself…” he trailed off expectantly. Ok, I’ll play.

“Oh yes? Do tell!” I raised an enquiring eyebrow.

“It’s a coat, I said to myself. What could possibly go wrong with a coat, I asked myself. I totally forgot to check for puns!”

I stood on my toes and kissed the end of his nose. “Now you know! It’s good to learn something new each day, right? You should write it up as a life-hack!”

“What, and give some runny nosed kid online the opportunity to say ‘Ok, boomer’ to me? I think snot.” Tom raised an offended eyebrow and I snickered. I’d like to see some kid try to get away with calling Tom old!

After we ordered our drinks at the bar, I plopped down on the bench and looked around the scarred old place. There were cracks in the plaster, probably left over from the London bombings during the war. The rough wood floor had probably never been polished, the tabletops were gouged and scratched, and the mullioned windows were filled with wavy, bubbled old glass. There were only a couple of other drinkers there. But the place was perfect. It carried the rich, warm, smell of good ale, and the scent of the logs burning on the fire.

“Your sheep impersonation needs some work, by the way,” he told me. “That ‘baa’ sound needs to come from the throat,” he rubbed his hand suggestively along his throat, tracing a finger around his adam’s apple. “You need to practice until you can literally feel the vibration and-”

I stared at him, my mouth falling open. Was he seriously trying to give me an acting lesson here to improve my sheep bleating?? I’m supposed to be the weird one in this relationship, not him!

“Then with a little-” he stopped and burst out laughing. “I’m sorry... your face!” he said between guffaws.

I could feel my blush rising but hopefully he’d think it was still from the cold outside. He’d got me, but there was no way I was going to admit that!

Fortunately the barman interrupted for our drinks order. I went for a lager, and Tom asked for a glass of wine, whee aren’t we adventurous?

Soon we were sitting at a table in the window of the nearly empty pub, looking out at the grey day.

“I have to say, I’m impressed by your choice of a pub crawl,” Tom grinned at me over his wine, his eyes twinkling merrily. “This ought to be interesting, since you can’t hold your liquor.”

“Can too!” I drew myself up indignantly.

“Darling,” he drawled, “you were three sheets to the wind the first time you met my mother! Your first words to her were, if I remember correctly, to stumble over calling her ‘Mum’, ‘Hiddleston’ and ‘Mrs. Posh Idiot’! You were squiffy!

“How long are you going to bludgeon me with that one for?” I teased. “But, that’s fair,” I nodded judiciously. “Of course I’d had nearly half a bottle of scotch on my own, and it was all your fault!”

“My fault?! How was you turning up trolleyed my fault?”

“She was your mother!”

Tom blinked, confused. “Well yes, she was. I mean, she still is.” He shook his head. “What’s your point?”

I rolled my eyes. “Obviously, I’d never have got drunk in front of your mother if you hadn’t insisted on introducing me! It stands to riesling.”

“You’re treading a vine line, there.” He snorted and looked skeptical, but he had to concede my logic. Reluctantly.

“Now let’s have a look at this list of Lordly pubs of yours.”

I pulled the list and map from my bag and set them in front of Tom with a flourish:

The Queens Sceptre

Sir Vesa’s

The Lord Lucan

The Royal Flush

The Barons Bollocks

The Duchess and Tipple

Down for the Count

The Bloody Queen Mary

The Earls Whiskers

The Laird of Scotch

The Princes Licker

The Rummy Lord

The Fresh Prince

The Dukes Drunk Ducks

The Kings Cocktail

Tom ran a finger down the list and laughed. “You’ve got fifteen pubs listed here, love, not ten!

“Hey, it’s not my fault that London publicans have an over fondness for kissing Royal arse!” I rolled my eyes. “Anyway, some of them are too far away for our walking programme. I only included the ten in walking distance of each other. Check the map. See?”

Tom flipped the list over and looked at our proposed ‘leaping’ route.

Tom laughed, pointing at The Prince’s Licker.

“Is that really what it’s called? The Prince’s Licker??”

I grinned. “Well no, it’s spelled Liquor. But I like my spelling better, as in ‘Candy is dandy, but lick-her is quicker to her heart’!”

Tom pulled me closer and nuzzled behind my ear. “It certainly is with you.”

I nuzzled back. “And you have a very good licker…” I trailed off suggestively.

Tom promptly licked a broad, very wet stripe up my cheek as I squealed and ducked away. “Guess I deserved that,” I said ruefully, scrubbing at my face with the sleeve of my jumper. Tom innocently drank from his glass, returning his attention to the list.

“The Lord Lucan.” he mused. “Isn't he the one who murdered his nanny, tried to murder his wife, and then disappeared, never to be seen again?”

“Yes,” I said with a grin. The macabre nature of the pub’s namesake had played a little into my choice. “You order your drinks at the bar, then they hide them and you have to find them before you can drink.”

“Are you serious?”

“No,” I laughed. “But it is said that only 50% of customers are ever seen again.”

He wasn't falling for it this time, no matter how deadpan my delivery.

“And the staff all carry pokers to bludgeon rude customers?” he suggested.

“Not far off,” I grinned and explained. “They stage murder mystery nights once a month, so if we like it here, we could try one sometime.”

“That sounds perfectly gruesome. We should go some evening.”

“I’ll check their schedule.” I promised. “You can’t get near it at Halloween, but it should be ok at any other time of the year.”

Tom looked back at our list. He grimaced at the next one.

“The Royal Flush? What is that?”

“I know, right? I couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be a pub, a gambling hell, or a shop that sells gold toilets!“

“I don’t know, darling. I don’t have high hops for a pub that has the word Flush right in its name.”

“Yeah, I think urine trouble if they can’t come up with a better name for a pub! It’s out of our walking zone, so we’re spared that one, anyway. What about the next one?”

“The Barons Bollocks?” Tom narrowed his eyes at me. “Did you spell that one wrong as well?”

I laughed. “Maybe? It used to be called the Barons Bullock, but some wag went and painted over the original letters on the sign. Every time the landlord fixed it, someone would come round and change it back. Eventually the landlord just gave up and left it that way. I hear their drinks are strong enough to put hair on your chest, and further south!”

“But darling, I like your chest just the way it is!” Tom traced a finger along the neckline of my jumper.

I glanced down. Oops. There was a bit too much of the girls on display for the public. I gave my jumper a tug and Tom sat back looking disappointed.

“Too bad.” I consoled him in mock sorrow. “But I wouldn’t want to get a chest cold.”

“Or a cold chest, I suppose.” Tom brightened and nuzzled my ear. “But I’d be happy to warm them up for you.”

“I’ll let you know,” I said dryly. I shook the pub list at him to get his attention off my boobs.

“The Duchess and Tipple is supposed to have quite a good wine cellar. And they have 2 for 1 House wine at happy hour!”

“Well, that’s an offer we decant refuse!

We finished our drinks at the Queen’s Sceptre and pulled on our coats. I grabbed Tom’s hand, tugging him out the door.

“Come on, Sir Vesa’s is only hops, skip and a jump from here!” I did my best to hop, skip and jump, but it’s not as easy as it sounds.

“Come on!” I urged Tom, who was laughing as he watched me. “Live a little!”

“How far is this pub?” he asked.

“According to the map, we’re only a quarter of a mile away.” I gave him my best side eye. “Yeah, you’re probably too old to skip for that long.”

His eyes narrowed. I was going to pay for that quip later. I couldn't wait!

“Fine.”

And so we ended up going this weird sort of flailing hop scotch dance down the pavement. Do you know how hard it is to hop, skip, and jump while laughing and dodging other, more sedate walkers? For a miracle nobody grumbled at our cavorting like ninnies, some even laughed and joined us for a hop or two! It must be the season.

Laughing and breathless from leaping about playing silly buggers down the pavement, I saw my chance. A narrow space between buildings was dark, a street light shining faintly through at the end of the gap, showing that the space was deserted. It was just the thing!

I tugged his hand and pulled him into the dark, turning and slinging my arm around his neck, reaching up on my toes to lick my way into his mouth.

Fingers ran over my cheek and down my neck, moving around my nape to dig into my hair and return the favour.

Tom braced himself with a hand on the bricks beside my head, brushing his lips teasingly across mine, but I wasn’t having it. I wanted his body against mine, and wrapped my hands in his jacket, pulling to grind against him. Tom chuckled into my mouth.

“Impatient little thing, aren’t you?”

“Oh, you have no idea…”

The warm wool of my coat cushioned me against the frigid brick wall at my back, but I could still feel the chill seeping through. It was bloody cold out there! Tom, however, was warming my front nicely, his body pressing into mine as he took over the kiss, heating me up from the inside. I wanted to put my hands in his hair, but my damned gloves…

Tom lifted his head, searching my face for something. I was about to pull him down for another kiss just to see if he really could make me burst into flames, when he startled and his head whipped toward the entrance of our dark little niche.

I’d been so lost in his kisses that I hadn’t even noticed the chattering and noise of passersby until that moment. A loud burst of laughter echoed around us as a group of men walked past, joking and pushing each other as they passed only a couple of meters from us.

Tom took a step back with a shake of his head and a regretful sigh. Yeah, that place was too public, and I didn’t fancy getting caught doing Tom Hiddleston in a dark alley! I’m not into exhibitionism anyway, and the reminder that we were nearly in public cooled me right off.

I shrugged and grinned ruefully at Tom, standing on my toes for a quick brushing kiss over his lips.

“Baby, it’s cold outside…” I sang. Tom chuckled.

“Then let us repair to somewhere warmer. Perhaps to yon public house?” Tom made a grand sweeping gesture and offered me his arm with a bow.

“Delighted, good Sir!” I laughingly tucked my hand in his elbow and he drew me back onto the busy pavement, nonchalantly merging us into the bustling foot traffic without a ripple. We were only a couple of doors from our destination.

Sir Vesa’s turned out to be surprisingly posh, with menus at the tables and waitstaff to take your order. My tummy rumbled. I immediately determined that I hadn’t had enough chips in my life.

“Oh look! I pointed at the drinks menu. They have Budweiser on tap! I’ve never had any, have you?

Tom made an adorable moue of disgust. “I have. Listen to me well when I tell you, Bud you’d be wieser to choose something else.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Like watered down goat piss!” Tom muttered quietly.

I choked. Eugh! I flipped the menu over, glancing down the list. “Oh, do they have that here?” i feigned innocence.

Tom looked at the menu over my shoulder, pretending to be serious. “Doesn’t look like it. Nope, no goat’s piss. Only the Budweiser.”

“You mean they don’t have real goat’s piss on offer, they only have the artificial stuff in a Budweiser can?? Well, all I can say is that’s a bitter pils to swallow!” I made my most outraged face and looked ‘round for the barman.

Tom slid an arm over my shoulders, holding me firmly in my seat, obviously not trusting me not to leap up and give the barman a piece of my mind on his lack of authentic goat’s piss. Wise man, our Tom.

“Now darling, you mustn’t harass the barman over his stock. You wouldn’t want to booze his ego, would you?”

“Who said anything about egos?” I eyed the man behind the bar. “He looks a stout young man, but I bet I could take ‘im…”

“Darling, I forbid you to take the poor man anywhere!! I’ll nip this in the bud!” And then Tom used his patented distraction technique, snogging me until I forgot what I was saying.

“Mmmm.” I blinked my eyes open and tried to stop my knees wobbling. Well, that was… refreshing. “Um. What was I saying?”

“We were perusing the menu,” Tom said with a sly smile, and I turned my attention back to the menu in my hand. Luckily while page one was the tried and not-so-true international brands, page two made this beer bar worth the visit. Of course the cervesa pun didn’t hurt, either! I don’t think you could have kept us out once we heard that name.

The various beers were described like a posh wine menu that had been turned into beer porn.

For example, Vienna Pale was described as “Based on the classic Vienna Lager style (though technically an ale), and annoyer of a certain type of beer geek, Vienna Pale is a sweet, malty drinking pint, with plenty of Saaz, Citra and Cascade dry-hopping to keep things interesting”.

I giggled over the menu. It might have been a little pretentious, if someone hadn’t come along and dirtied up the prose, but what the hell.

In the end, I chose a Pilot Bucks Peach, of which the menu said ‘Pilot is a Leith microbrewery that specialises in kick-arse brews. Lovingly handcrafted by braw men in kilts, it’ll lay you out with a smile on your face!’

Apparently it came in flavours! I didn’t fancy the mochachino flavoured one, which seemed more like a breakfast beer, if there is such a thing, but the Buck’s Peach sounded good.

Tom opted for one called, with devastating originality, An IPA.

I knew that meant an India Pale Ale. It was described as “An interpretation of the challenge ‘Create a New Scotland IPA’. A mix of malted oats and barley, then dry hopped both during active fermentation, then once fermentation is complete. A juicy, orgasmic starburst of a beer.”

“Tom, you know that it’s just beer, right? I mean it’s a bit much to expect the earth to move from a beer..” I cautioned him, shaking my head at the over-the-top description.

Tom’s lips twitched.. “But I have such high hops for it!”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, I hope it moves you to cheers!” I patted his hand. “If the earth doesn’t move, I’ll move it for you when we get home, dear.”

The beer turned out to be pretty good, but nowhere good enough to move anyone’s earth. Eh, the chips were much better, golden crisp on the outside, lovely, hot, and mealy in the center. With lashings of salt and malt vinegar they were the orgasmic item on the menu!

Tom took the last chip on my plate as I was swallowing the last of my Bucks Peach, which was a good lager, but not peachy at all. My other hand came down on his wrist, pinning it to the table. I carefully set my glass down and narrowed my eyes at him.

The fucker gave me those big puppy dog eyes and I lost all desire to fight him for it. I let go his wrist and gently took the chip from him, brushing his lips tantalizingly with it.

Tom delicately took it between his teeth and nibbled it down to my fingertips, licking the last of the salt away.

I sighed. “The sacrifries I make for you…” and shook my head. Tom chuckled.

“Darling, I always pay my debts.” His hand slid around to the nape of my neck and he leaned in to take my lips in a searing kiss that I felt all the way down to my toes.

“That’s only the down payment, you’ll get the balance when we get home,” he murmured against my lips. I tried not to whimper too loudly when he sat up.

“Right. Get off your heineken, it’s time to go. What’s next?” Suddenly Tom is all business. I blinked, and after a moment to gather myself, got the list from my bag.

“It says here The Lairds Scotch. And it’s only three doors down.”

A quick dash into the cold and we were there.

Tom took my coat, and when he came back I nodded at the bar, turning innocent eyes up at him.

“If you ask the barman to help you find the good scotch does that make him your spirit-guide?”

“Dear god, I hope so,” he groaned. “I’m going to need all the spiritual help I can get after that clanker!”

“Oh look,” I pointed to an upright piano next to the opposite wall to change the subject. I could just imagine people having a sing-song around it in the old days. “You should give us a tune,” I cajoled as we stepped up to the bar.

Tom ordered a Laphroig, but I couldn’t face any more scotch after my last go round. I asked for a G&T.

“It doesn't look like it’s been tuned since the war,” Tom deflected.

“They play it every Sat’de,” an elderly gentleman at the next table interrupted. “Owner’s son is studying music and he or one o’ ‘is friends play for us every weekend.” He nodded judiciously. “They’re not bad.”

Tom did not look thrilled by this news, but I’d seen his eyes linger longingly on the old piano.

“There you go,” I smiled smugly as I sipped my G and T.

“If I’m playing, you’re singing,” he challenged.

Ooh! Things just got interesting. Well, whatever my reluctance to be caught singing in public, if he wanted this, then I would give it to him. But I’d make him work for it!

“Is that right?”

“Of course, the only song I know is Little Drummer Boy,” he said as if that settled it. Bloody hell, I hate that song!

“No,” I shook my head. “There will be no pa-rum-pa-pums! Besides,” I sassed, “Drummers are the twelfth day of Christmas! And I definitely remember your Mum saying something about how you’d regale them with Christmas carols every year until you left for Uni!”

“My darling,” He affected a world weary air. “Do you have any idea how long ago university was for me?”

“Sure, grandpa,” I teased. “But you don’t play something for that many years and just forget it.”

I polished off my G&T, and went to order another from the barman. I’d need more booze to get me up to the piano. Either I sing better when I’ve had a good belt, or I only think I do. But it’s all in the mind, right? Let’s hear is for Dutch Courage!

I brought another scotch for Tom as well, even though he doesn’t actually need any Dutch Courage to perform. He’s in his element. But fair is fair, right? If I need to get tipsy to sing in public, well, he’s just going to have to keep up!

“I’ll tell you one I do remember.” The twinkle in his eye had an evil slant.

“Hmm?” I was cautious. God knows what he’d come up with

“I’ll be Home for Christmas.”

I smiled smugly. He thought he’d stump me? Ha! I know that song. By heart, even. I love that old tune. Dad had a bunch of old LP’s, and an honest-to-god turntable, and he loved to play the old songs at Christmas time. His favourites, and mine as well, were Nat King Cole, and Bing Crosby.

But I decided to be difficult. Anyway, if he thinks I don’t know the tune, he’s in for a surprise! And there’s nothing I like better than surprising Tom.

“Sorry, I don’t know the lyrics.”

“And you say I’m the old one,” He laughed. “Google them on your phone, you numpty!” Tom rolled his eyes and shook his head despairingly.

Yeah, I was sort of hoping he wouldn’t think of that. What the hell, I’d made him work hard enough for it. I relented. Besides, he has to pay for that ‘numpty’ crack!

“Bring it.” I tossed my hair behind my back and straightened my jumper, giving it a little tug downward to distract him.

It’s a song written from the perspective of a soldier in World War II, to his girl back home.”

His eyes closed and I could see him relax, his shoulders went down and his head fell forward, drawing a deep breath in and letting it out slowly. His long fingers carefully picked out the tune as if reminding himself how it went.

His fingers danced over the keys as he launched into the slow, romantic song. It did have a world war two vibe to it. I swear he could have been one of those old fashioned crooners as he began to sing in his smooth baritone. I shouldn’t have been surprised, he’s an amazing mimic, and I saw I Saw the Light.

“I'll be home for Christmas...You can plan on me… Please have snow, and mistletoe...and presents by the tree…”

Tom lifted his chin at me, commanding me to sing with him. I smiled and purposely set my mobile down on the piano, joining in with my alto voice.

“Christmas Eve will find you...Where the love light gleams...I'll be home for Christmas...If only in my dreams…”

The old gent and his friends, as well as the barman joined in and sang the rest with us. They clapped when we’d finished, encouraging Tom to play more.

One of the old gents waved his pint glass at us. “Can you give us Oh Holy Night, lad?

Tom nodded. “If you don’t mind the odd stumble, I might just manage it, “ Tom said modestly. Then he launched into the old church music, the old men singing along with us. Dad had always dragged us to Christmas services, so I was able to keep up.

Where I didn’t remember the verse, I sipped at my G&T and enjoyed the men’s voices winding together. They weren’t half bad! Everybody clapped happily at the end, egging Tom on to play another.

Tom laughingly agreed, sliding me a sly challenging look. He was a picture, his face flushed with exhilaration and happiness. It’s a good look on him. And it melts my knickers!

“Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…” There went that challenging eyebrow. I wrinkled my nose at him and joined in.

“Jack Frost nipping at your toes...Yuletide carols being sung by a choir...And folks dressed up like Eskimos…”

The old gents were silent, not knowing the lyrics, I suppose. So we gave them a duet. Dad would have been proud.

When we’d finished and the last lingering note faded the gents applauded and called compliments, offering us another round, which we both declined. But we gave them Auld Lang Syne for an encore, and they all joined in. Tom laughingly refused requests for more.

“I’d better get back to my date, or there won’t be any kisses for me tonight!” he kidded. “And she’s ever so much better looking than you lot! Thanks for letting me play your piano!”

I tend to forget that Tom is such a born performer until moments like that. Watching him perform for an audience is like watching a rose bloom on fast forward; all that is hidden quietly away burst into full colour, and everyone nearby just basks in it.

When we went to finish our drinks back at our table, I slid into his lap, nuzzling his hair and wrapping my arms around him wordlessly. He is so precious to me, and I’m not making a Lord of the Rings joke.

At the Duchess and Tipple Tom made me drink a big glass of water after I called it the Duchess and Nipple, and couldn’t stop giggling. We agreed it was time for dinner.

“How about the Dukes Drunk Ducks? That’s not too far from here.”

“The what?”

“Dukes Drunk Ducks. It’s an old legend. It used to be called The Dukes Duck. One day the landlady came down to find all her ducks dead. Being a practical sort, she shrugged and put duck on the menu for that night. But as she was preparing them to cook, they woke up! Apparently they were only drunk and passed out after drinking from a leaking barrel of ale, not dead, and the name kind of stuck.”

“Yeah, okay, they sound like ducks I’d want to know.”

“I haven't been there for a few years but they used to do good food too.”

I checked my watch. “We do need something to soak up the alcohol,” I agreed. That and the mile long walk there should help sober us up enough to finish the crawl, I mean ‘Leap’, without being totally blotto. A good night out is no fun if you can’t remember it the next day!

“We’d best have a pee before we leave,” Tom cautioned.

“Good idea.” Yeah, a mile long walk with crossed legs didn't sound like much fun.

***

The Drunk Duck took its name and theme very seriously. Every wall was adorned with pictures of ducks, including duck portraits of ducks in Victorian clothing, some in military uniforms with high ranking titles.

Mr Firequacker, Sir Quacks a Lot, and Admiral Moby Duck were among my favorite names, although the fanged duck in a black cape titled Count Quackula topped my fav list.

“I’m surprised they don’t have duck a l'orange,” I said.

“You don’t kill your namesake,” Tom said with mock shock, clutching his chest.

“I don’t care how much I like this place, I am not giving up crispy duck pancakes with hoisin sauce. Not even if I can never look another duck in the eye again.”

Tom Laughed as the waiter set our plates in front of us, wished us bon appetit, and bustled off. I smiled at Tom over my Shepherds Pie and he smiled fondly back, and we both took a bite.

“It’s pretty good stuff, this.” I scooped a bit more onto the back of my fork.

“Not as good as yours, though.”

“Well, cheers!” I lifted my glass of wine and tilted my glass to him.

“Mm. Pudding was even better, as I recall.” Tom purred, sending shivers down my spine. My brow furrowed. I didn’t remember any pudding.

“What pudding ? We drank beer and watched Lawrence Llewellyn-Bowen destroy some poor sod’s house!”

Tom wiped his mouth with his serviette and grinned wickedly.

“Oh yes! I distinctly remember I had a couple of lovely frozen bombes with cherries on top.” Tom’s eyes fell to the v-neck of my jumper, and I felt my face warm.

“Uh huh. Icy what you did there.”

We each nursed only one glass of wine during the meal, but we ordered water too and stayed for desert. I was feeling almost sober as we left, but I could do with the walk to the next bar to help the food digest.

“Where to?” Tom asked as we stepped out the door.

“Oh, um…” I felt my pockets but couldn’t find the list. “The Bloody Bits of Barons or something?”

“Do you mean The Barron’s Bollocks?”

“That’s the one. But I think my name is better.”

“Definitely more memorable, darling,” Tom piped up. “And rather bloodthirsty. If I ever become a publican I shall definitely call my establishment The Baron’s Bollocks.” He discretely hid a belch behind his hand.

God, I adored that cut glass accent of his. He could say absolutely ridiculous things like that and still sound like a sexy toff. It wasn't fair! I was about 50% sure I was drooling by now, and I’m absolutely certain that my mascara has migrated south since I put it on before we left. Tom meanwhile just had that sexy, tousled look about him. All he needs is some lipstick. Which I was happy to provide! I grabbed his chin and snogged him hard. Leaning back, I surveyed him. Damn, that shade looks as good on him as it does on me.

I eventually found my list in a pocket I was sure I’d checked three times already.

I slipped my arm through Tom’s and leaned my head on his shoulder, sighing contentedly as we strolled along.

“You seem happy.” Tom noted.

“Mmm,” I wrapped my other arm around his too.

“If I’d known feeding you was all it took to tame the beast, I’d have tried it months ago,” he laughed.

The idea of having been tamed made me giggle. Okay, maybe I wasn't quite as sober as I felt, but I was feeling very happy right now, even if I was freezing my metaphorical bollocks off.

“Feeding’s not the only thing that tames me,” I purred, but the effect was rather ruined when I slipped on a patch of ice. Luckily Tom was there to catch me up. I might have hammed it up a bit.

“We still have three more pubs to get to!” Tom groaned, scrubbing at his face to wake himself up

“No, two more!” I corrected.

“Three!”

“Look, mister, this is my day and if you keep arguing, it’ll be four.” I crossed my arms and glared at him. We’d been arguing about whether it was Ten or Eleven Lords a Leaping all evening. Tom liked the alliteration, the drunk posh idiot. Alliteration! I ask you!

“But, that’s brewtal! I’m sure-”

“Five.”

“Alright! Okay, you win! Please don't make me go to five more pubs! We’ll be drunk as Lords until Easter!”

“Now see how much easier it is when you agree with me?” I smiled my victory and batted my eyelashes.

“Well the alliteration is still better with Eleven Lords a Leaping,” he grumbled, “but if you make us go to 13 pubs neither of us will be having much fun after! So, what’s it going to be?

“Fine, we can skip the Duke of Marlborough. Never liked his ciggies anyway.” I drew a rather drunken line through the name, and Tom took it from me, stuffing it in his pocket.

Tom grinned, pleased to have won. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you later.”

“Oh yes you will!! What’s next?” I patted my pockets again. Wait. Now Tom had my list as well! But he had an excellent memory. Well, he did when he wasn't drunk. I reached for his pocket to retrieve the list of pubs, but he wasn’t having it. After tussling with him for a minute I gave up and tried for a stern expression.

“Hang on, this is my game! I make the rules.” I tilted my head, thinking hard. “It is my game, right?”

Tom snickered into his pint of cider. “You, my darling, are drunk.”

“You wouldn't exactly pass a breathalyser either, buddy! Better still, I’d like to see you do those American tests, where you walk heel to toe and touch your finger to your nose!” I swayed as I made my point. What was it again?

“I’d rather touch your nose,” Tom smouldered as he leaned in close, his nose inches from mine.

I shook my head as if shaking off a stupor. “Hey, no fair using The Smoulder to distract me!” I paused, trying to puzzle out where I was going with this. “Um, what were you distracting me from, anyway?”

“Hell if I know.”

“My good sir, you are snockered!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Not!”

“Too!”

“That’s the way to do it,” the barman said with a chuckle as he wiped down the neighbouring table.

“Sorry?” Tom asked.

“Am not, are too?” he imitated them. “I thought you were doing pantomime. ‘Tis the season, right?”

“‘That’s the way to do it’ is Punch and Judy,” I corrected him.

“Oh no it isn’t,” the barman teased.

“Oh yes it is!”

“This could go on for a while and I need to pee.” Tom drained the rest of his cider before he stood up and headed for the toilets. “Behave yourself!” he shot over his shoulder as he ambled away.

“Right, onward to the next bacchanalia! The Bloody Queen Mary was it?”

I pulled the list from my pocket and unfolded it. “Yes.”

We staggered out into the cold night air. I breathed deeply, letting it sober me up a little.

Not that I was roaring drunk. Not quite. Not yet. This next one was our second to last pub of the night though, and we were only having one each. Two more couldn't hurt too much, right?

Down for the Count was our final pub of the night and I held up my glass of sherry and giggled. I was definitely getting tiddly. And naughty. “Here’s to every Tom’s Dick and Sherry!”

“That, my dear, was a toastament to bad puns! And who’s this Sherry bird, anyway?” Tom squinted at me. “You aren’t setting up a threesome are you?”

“No fear,” I snickered, “I don’t think Tom’s dick would be up to the job after all this!” I waved my glass around, spilling it over the rim.

Tom grinned. “Apparently Sherry is sloshed as well!”

I snickered and made a small noise of annoyance at the sherry trailing down my wrist, glancing around for something to wipe it off, but there were only glasses and coasters on the small table.

Tom tisked, taking my glass from me and lifting my hand to his mouth. “May I?” The fucking smoulder was back.

“Be my guest.” My voice had gone all breathy, and I swallowed hard as his tongue came out and delicately licked the trickle of sherry from my wrist to my fingers.

Hot blue eyes stared into mine as he sucked a finger into his mouth, swirling his tongue around each one to clean the sticky sherry from my fingers.

I breathed out hard, squirming in my seat to ease the need building below as he left a kiss in my palm.

“Mmm. Sherry tastes sweet, but you taste sweeter…”

“I’ll call us a cab,”

It started to snow on our way home in the cab, just light flurries at first, and then big, fat flakes drifting down out of the sky just as we were climbing out of the cab in front of Tom’s.

The cab left, and Tom wrapped his arms around me, turning my back to his front, and setting his cheek next to mine. We stood on his top step, tranquilly watching the snow fall , peacefully muffling the city noises all around us, listening to each other’s breathing as it fogged in the cold air.

Tom was warm at my back and I leaned against him, wrapping my own arms over his, and just simply enjoying the quiet moments.

Eventually I realised that I needed to pee. With that came the awareness that my feet were freezing in their trainers, and a headache was beginning to bloom behind my eyes.

I turned my head back and up, kissing Tom’s cool lips for a long luxurious moment.

I whispered in his ear, “I really need to pee.”

He didn’t laugh, he simply nodded and fished his keys out of his pocket and let us in. Tom took my coat as I kicked my trainers off and padded through the dark house to the loo.

I gasped when I flipped the switch, light stabbing through my eyes and waking my incipient headache. I quickly flipped the light off, deciding that there were some things that I was perfectly capable of doing in the dark.

I did what I needed to do and had a quick wash before I opened the door and found Tom leaning on the wall opposite, with two bottles of water and a bottle of paracetamol crooked in his elbow against his chest.

He took my hand and quietly drew me up the stairs, undressed me, and sat me on the bed. Setting down his burden, he twisted the cap off a bottle of cold water and handed it to me, quickly doing the same for himself.

“One more drink, darling. What shall we drink to?”

“Don’t know, don’t care!”

“That’s good enough!”

He tapped his water bottle against mine and we both drank thirstily. I moaned at the cool liquid sliding down my throat, it felt so good.

“Nothing like copious amounts of alcohol to dry you out.” Tom set his half empty bottle down and opened the paracetamol, tapping two out on his palm and offering them to me.

I’m nobody’s fool, I took the damn pills even though I detest swallowing them. If I didn’t I knew I’d be sorry in the morning.

I fell back on the bed with a groan. Tom settled me under the blankets, chuckling and ignoring my uncoordinated attempt to do it. I gave up and let him man handle me because I really was tired.

Stripping off as he made his way a little carefully into the ensuite, I listened drowsily to the homey sound of Tom humming to himself as he did whatever. I think it might have been a bit of the Nutcracker. My eyes were drifting shut on the slightly swaying bed, feeling warm and sleepy.

Tom lifted the blankets and slid in next to me, wrapping around me and dropping a kiss below my ear.

I woke some time before dawn with Tom’s warm body spooned around me from behind, and my bloody phone ringing far too loudly.

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thewalkingdead-imagines · 5 years

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Negan Drabble #4

“Y’know, tomorrow morning I’ll regret drinking with you”, you mumbled, the edge of the fancy whiskey glass still resting on your lips as you swallowed the amber liquid that washed down your throat and filled it with a tingling warmth. Stretching your exhausted and worked-marked limbs, you shifted over your chair on the platform outside the Sanctuary, still clinging to the glass of whiskey that definitely wasn’t your first one. Your fuzzy growing eyes swayed over the darker becoming sky until they caught the man by your side who glimpsed over at you with a lazy grin. “How come?”, Negan grumbled, taking a sip of his whiskey before he bit his lip and perked his brows curiously up. Huffing you leaned back, feeling how the alcohol was working on you before it drew a grin on your face and made a chuckle fall from your lips as you allowed your glances to stay connected. “Cause I talk waaay too fucking much when I’m drunk...and I get too damn direct...”, you mumbled taking another sip of the whiskey before a thicker chuckle left your lips,”Actually, I feel like I’m turning into the Negan version of myself.” “Well holy shit, Now was that a compliment or a damn drag?”, he laughed, glancing at you as he licked the remaining scotch of his lips before you shrugged your shoulders, focusing your fuzzy glance on him with a lazy but provocative grin drawn over your lips. “Decide for yourself.” “Well shit”, he grumbled, taking another thick gulp of his whiskey before he pursed his lips and puckered his brows, even though the edges of his lips twitched. “Oh don’t pout”, you groaned, a drunken giggle leaving your lips as you nudged his arm playfully,”You’re the best. And it’s just that you’re way better at being Negan than my damn drunk me is.” A thick laugh rumbled through your body before it hushed as your tipsy mind processed what had just slipped out of your lips, the truth carried out by the alcohol and the straightforwardness it evoked in you. “Shit”, you mumbled, half chuckling, half groaning as you heft yourself off the chair, feeling the impact of the scotch kicking in, even more as soon as you stood on your feet. Stumbling over to the railing you still held onto your glass, hearing the hearty and loud laughter of Negan shaking through the air as you huffed with a small grin on your lips out, “Ah here we go.” “I’m the best”, he chuckled as he repeated you, relish echoing through his voice as if he was tasting every single word ,”Mhm and that outta your mouth.” The metal of his chair screeched over the concrete floor as you saw him standing up from the corner of your eyes, catching how he swung his body over to you. “I’m the best”, he mumbled again, wolfish and with even more tease than before while he leaned down, smirking widely as you turned to him and tilted your head with a playfully annoyed glance at him. “Stop”, you mumbled, shoving his chest as he instead smirked even wider before taking another sip of his drink and slowly shaking his head. “Uh-uh”, he mumbled, now nodding towards you and your glass ,“Think we two are drinking more often now.” Another, slight drunken chuckle left his lips as he got close enough for you to feel his body’s warmth against yours and the heat of his breath on your skin, before he pointed his finger up at your head. “Wanna know what this sweet ass drink can reveal what else’s going on in that pretty head”, he mumbled, snaking his tongue over his lower lip as his gaze shifted a little down,”And hear what can come outta those damn lips...bet you got some dirty dirty thoughts in there that just wanna slip out” “Oh, you asshole”, you laughed, using his body as crutch for yours as you raised your middle finger up into his face, only to elicit a thicker laugh to rumble through his chest. Shaking his head slightly he sneaked an arm around you to pull you closer against him, chuckling deeply before he grinned even wider at you. “Lemme correct you there, Baby. The best asshole.”

tags are under the cut:

@agespenst @imaginesforthepeople @porgs-r-us @squidgy84 @toxic-ink@Nobodylastname @nice-shoes-nerd @thegirlwiththelyrics99 @tolieboy @writteninthestars288@magical-spit @straightestgay-voice @xsnak-3x @myrabbitholetoneverland @dasani-saraai @negan-is-god@harry-titss@traumbruch @negans-network@theblankestostares @amysuemc@ashzombie13 @trashimaginezblog @jeffreydeanneganstrash @sweetwittlebosco @futureofdestiel @bananakid42 @dragongirl420 @kalliewinchester-queenofhell@futureofdestiel @timeladyrikaofgallifrey @osakamilk @kattyshea20 @dinodiegos @missmotherhen @kinkygamertrash @beahippie23 @xabeautifultragedyx @negansmagic@starwarsandstufff @bdohe21 @lovesjdm @vanilla-negan @to-pick-ourselves-up-7 @roselover159 @mamarhee @the-writingdead @traumbruch @bellawindixon @dlb1999 @thelittlewolf45 @collette04 @ask-kakashihatake @princessbelgoof @adixon13@botanicalthoughts @nijiru@cheyanhicks @jtklover123 @twentyonewalkerss@originalwinchestervamp@readytourie@ijashanaa @i-am-lady-anarchy @marauderspads@humble-thumb @hp-hogwartsexpress @mydeliciousdandelion @warriorqueen1991 @unholyjs @kentuckywalker @mydeliciousdandelion@dancing-in-embers @gackts-guwashi @ugh-abbyxx @frozenhuntress67 @hela-rious48 @thoughtfullyoptimisticgalaxy @xojeffreydeanmorgan @thelittlewolf45 @babygirlmeepi @thehybridsqueen@blueeyedsoutherngal @naniky @negans-network @the-wintergirl @fangirl-and-medstudent-help@lovesjdm @oofasaurus @putnamjessie@escaping-reality-22 (In case you want to be tagged or untagged for specific things or everything I write, just let me know! The gif is not mine, I found it on google so credit to the original owner)

#twd #the walking dead #Negan #twd imagine #negan imagine #the walking dead imagine #negan imagines #twd imagines #the walking dead imagines #negan x reader #negan fic #twd fic #nts #negan's network #negan x you #negan drabble #twd drabble #thewalkingdead-imagines

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chaoticgothicwiccanchik · 4 years

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Type of Post: Fanfiction

Main Fandom: Harry Potter

Side Fandom: Sherlock(BBC), Dexter(TV)

Story Summary & Information: This is what I think would've happened if Lily and James had three sons instead of one. I gave Harry one older brother named Charles and a younger brother named Evan.

This story will also be a minor crossover with a few other fandoms. I say minor because it will mostly have the children of the MC in some other fandoms mention their parents.

For example, this will be a Dexter crossover because Dexter's son Harrison will attend Hogwarts in the same year as Harry (I know Dexter is set in America but I change the fandom slightly to fit this, also in my story S1 ended differently and anything after S5 never happened). This will be a Sherlock crossover because John's daughter Rosie is in Charles' year (also Fred and George's year)(also Johnlock is mentioned). I may also reference other fandoms but those are the two that matter as the Potter brothers will be interacting with their children and maybe sometimes them. You do not have to have watched Sherlock or Dexter to read this fic, maybe just do a basic Google search and you'll be good to go.

Chapter 1- Potters Fate

Straight out of Hogwarts Lily Evans married James Potter and to the jealousy of her older sister Petunia got pregnant right away. (Though Petunia would later say Lily must have gotten knocked up in school and was trying to hide it. How shameful, in her fine opinion.) The Potters were overjoyed as James' parents were getting quite on in years and wanted to be sure their family had an heir. With such a fine, young, and fertile bride, the elder Potters could be quite content their family would survive the next few generations. James and Lily named the boy, Charles Fleamont Cadmar Potter, he had James' hair and eyes but would grow to have many of Lily's facial features.

Just as Fleamont and Euphemia Potter were on their death beds, Lily fell pregnant again, another boy, Henry James Hyacinth Potter. These were dark times to be living in but James' parents died with the hope that their two grandsons would live to see a better future. (Petunia also sent a scathing letter to Lily that contained news of Dudley Dursley's birth but mentioned several times she had waited a few years into her marriage to have a child "like a proper born woman.") Shortly after Harry was born the Potters moved several times every few weeks as Dumbledore had informed them of a prophecy which Voldemort thought was referring to Harry.

While on the run Lily took the entire Potter family library with her sorted into several trunks, sorted by subject, then date, then author names alphabetically. One trunk however contained only books written/edited by members of the Potter family, it was these books that had Lily hunched over a table looking desperately for an answer. According to many spell crafters research, the Killing Curse was so effective because it simply killed you, there were no injures that could possibly be healed, no poisons to find an antidote to, you simply die. Many of the same researchers theorized that this was because the curse didn't just kill you, it tore your soul from your body.

For many years the Potter family specialized in soul and blood magic, until the Ministry banned such arts a few centuries ago. Aegeus Potter, one of James' great-grandfather, had entirely disagreed with the laws and argued heavily against them. When the laws finally went through due to the votes of one of the Potter House rivals, Basil Livington, Aegeus hid the real books on Soul and Blood magic and gave the Ministry some fake books and journals he messed with so they couldn't read it anyways. "Potter family magik, you understand Livington? Even if I have to give it away I can't let anyone else read it." And so the Potters had taken up Transfiguration as their new family magiks instead.

Lily smirked, she really did love the family she had married into. The books on soul magic disappointingly did not contain much extra knowledge on the Killing Curse, they did however contain several draughts which could heal a person who had suffered the other Unforgivables to their previous state. According to the Potters, the other two curses were soul magic as well, the Cruciatus targeting your souls ability to function in this world and the Imperius targeting your souls will to live freely and crushing your spirit. Disappointed, Lily jotted those potions down and closed the books on soul magic.

It felt as if all her work was for nothing, she had been searching and searching for a way to have her children survive and there was nothing. Lily had tried convincing James to leave the country and stay gone until Charles was ready for Hogwarts or the war ended but James was adamant about staying to fight...not that they did much fighting these days. James was so confident, he thought they would win and it would all be okay. Lily wished she had such faith, such hope.

The Lady of Potter House was also unsure about how much longer she could keep this next secret from her husband...she had fallen pregnant again. In these dark times, with two children already and on the run Lily wondered if she should get rid of it. Could she force a child to grow up in this life? Never staying in one place, always moving, always afraid, never making any friends. Lily wasn't even sure they would get to go to Hogwarts, what if Voldemort captured it first? Would her children ever know joy? Would the other two (oh goodness she was already thinking of the baby inside her as hers) resent Harry for being the reason their family was targeted?

No! That was enough! The second Lily Marie Evans Potter let some madman dictate her actions was the second she became someone else. Lily wanted this baby, it was hers, it was a little piece of James and Lily growing inside her and Lily wanted to be his or her mother. Voldemort would not force her to give up on her dream of becoming a mother, he could not force her out of her world, Lily Potter would fight to the death if it ever came to it but she would not give up on a way to protect and save her children. (And, well, if Charles or the little one inside her ever decided to be angry with Harry because he happened to be apart of some prophecy then Lily would just have to be a mother and explain the them that it was not Harry's fault and that it was always the fault of the murderer, not the one they intended to murder.) With a renewed sense of passion, Lily began to go through the blood magic books, leave no stone unturned, there must be something that could help.

-~-~

James was ecstatic when he found out Lily was pregnant again. They threw a big party with the rest of the order. Sirius was made godfather again with Lily choosing Alice Longbottom as godmother (Charles' godmother was Pandora Lovegood and Harry's was Marlene McKinnon.) Lily was worried her choices of godparents would either die in the war so she chose three separate ones just in case. Surely not all of these people would die if she did? Right? James laughed it off and said Sirius would be alright. Sometimes she thought her husband didn't get the point. The party was also partly a naming ceremony because the Potters doubted there'd be another opportunity. It was decided that a boy would be named Evan Godfrey Elijah Potter and a girl would be named Amethyst Evelyn Astor Potter.

There was some good news, Lily had found a way to protect her children. Within the Potter books about blood magic there was a ritual often called the Ritual of Love. There was a protector and a protectee, the protector had to make several potions involving some blood from the protector, willingly given. The protectee (or protectees, in one case an older brother used this on all four of his younger sisters) must drink the potion while the protector drew a soul-symbol over their heart to symbolize the love the protector must feel for the protectee. The protector would then place the protectee in a symbol meant to represent their relationship. This would ensure that if the protector shielded one protectee from any kind of magical attack the attacker would then have their attack rebound on them and would no longer be able to touch any of the protectees, even if the protector was only shielding one. There seemed to be a few downsides to this plan, Lily would die meaning she could no longer protect them from anything else (what if Voldemort sent one of his lackeys to kill her children but the others and himself were free to do so?), Lily had no idea what symbol would represent herself and her children (easily fixed, find something to do with motherhood or sons), and there was no recorded incident of it being used to shield the killing curse (what if it didn't work?!).

Because this ritual could only be used once Lily would have to wait until the new baby was born. She also picked out several different symbols in case the child was a girl and the one to do with mothers and sons was no longer applicable. "Don't worry baby," Lily whispered rubbing her swollen stomach. "Mommy won't let anyone hurt you or your big brothers." Then she sighed and added "Hopefully I won't have to die for you to be safe."

-~-~

Charles wasn't sure what had happened. It had been Halloween and Daddy was shooting sparks up in the air and Mommy was laughing. Harry and Evan were being their usual baby selves. Mommy said Charles had to be patient with them because they were small and couldn't do as much as he could. Charles could do lots, he could runs and speak with big words and ride a toy broom alone and climb Daddy's deer antlers. Harry and Evan couldn't do that though, they were small but that was okay 'cause Charles was a big boy and he would teach his little brothers to be big boys too! (But not bigger than him because he was the big brother.)

Anyways, what was he talking about? Oh, yeah, yeah. There was a weird man at the door and Mommy suddenly started actin' scared like something was gonna hurt her. But that was silly because she was Mommy and Mommy's weren't supposed to be scared. Mommy told him to run real fast up to Harry and Evan's room and Charles did. (Mommy had to carry Harry and Evan because they were big boys yet like Charles and couldn't run up the stairs like he could.) Charles thought it was weird though, Mommy told him he wasn't 'posed to run up and down the stairs. Maybe it was different because they only ran up once?

Bangs and shouts chased them up the stairs and Charles reminded himself not to be scared, it sounded like thunder and Mommy said thunder didn't hurt. Mommy was still scared and she placed Harry and Evan inside the big crib where Harry slept. Mommy picked him up to put him inside the crib too, that was when he complained, "I'm too big Momma, I get the big boy bed."

That was the first time his mother ever gave him a sharp look, "Charles Potter, I need you inside this crib and I can't argue with you right now." Charles shut his mouth and let his mother put him inside the crib. Mommy had never spoken to him that way, her voice was always gentle and soft. The bangs had fallen silent and Mommy looked sad. Mommy leaned down so she was level with their tiny faces, even Evan had been sat up against Charles' tummy. "Listen very carefully, my boys, Mommy loves you, Daddy loves you. We will always love you even if we aren't around anymore." Mommy looked so afraid and Charles reached his tiny hands (big boy hands!) through the bars to touch her face. It came back wet, Mommy was crying.

There was a lot of shouting, Mommy cried, she begged to man in the odd cloak to leave them alone. Charles would remember her screams for the rest of his life. "Please not my babies! Take anyone else! Please not Harry! Take me! Kill me instead!"

And the high, cold voice which answered. "Stand aside! Move Mudblood! Stand aside you silly girl! Avada Kedavra!" And the man turned his wand on Harry. Charles made sure to wrap his arms around Harry and Evan incase they were scared but when the man pointed his wand at Harry and the green light flashed it got sent back to the man and the room exploded outwards.

-~-~

Charles didn't like this new place. These people were apparently called the Dursley's and they were his Aunt, Uncle, and cousins Dudley and Daisy. Dudley was Harry's age and Daisy was younger than Evan, she was still in Aunt Petunia's tummy when they got here. Charles, Harry and Evan all shared the littlest bedroom in the Dursley's household while Dudley and Daisy each got their own room. Whenever Charles or Harry or Evan disobeyed the Dursley's or annoyed the Dursley's or took food without asking first (the answer was always no) they were put in the cupboard until the Dursley's thought they were properly punished.

The Potter boys had chores as soon as they could walk. They cleaned the house, cooked the food as soon as Charles could reach the stove, and weeded the garden. Charles told stories to his brothers in the middle of the night, he told them all he remembered about Mommy and Daddy and what he called their real Aunts and Uncles. (He learned to only say this when all the Dursley's had gone to bed because Aunt Petunia had screamed and slapped him and Uncle Vernon had put red stripes across his back until he was bleeding with his belt.) When they didn't do the chores properly (which as often as small children could not get that much done in a day) they weren't fed. Once, Harry abandoned his chores to talk to one of the neighborhood boys, Uncle Vernon pulled off his belt and beat him until he screamed, he beat Charles too because the second he heard his little brother cry he jumped in front of Vernon and tried unsuccessfully to drive him off.

Charles tried to protect Harry and Evan but he wasn't sure he was good at it. Interrupting their punishments only got him beaten as well and if he was in the cupboard with one he couldn't protect the other. Then school happened and he was forced away from his little brothers for eight whole hours!

Something strange happened in his second year of school though. Charles had taken to staying in the library so he could read their books. Mommy was always reading books and Charles vaguely remembered her saying the books had helped Mommy save him and Harry and Evan. It probably didn't work though, Mommy was gone and if she couldn't protect herself then how could she protect them? The library didn't have any books on how to save his little brothers though. While mostly a loner as he didn't know how to talk to other children, Charles eventually realized he had to ask the librarian what he wanted to find like he'd seen some of the other kids doing.

"Mrs.Bradley? I need help finding a book but I'm not sure what it's called."

Mrs.Bradley smiled down at the polite little boy. He had been coming into the school library for over a year now, never checked anything out, just sat quietly in a chair and read for the whole of recess and lunch. He seemed a bit too thin and she had been bringing in extra sandwiches for him a few other kids, it was so sad how some families couldn't afford enough food. "What are you looking for, dear?"

"I need something to help me save my brothers." Charles said with a very serious tone.

Feeling slightly amused the old librarian smiled down at him. "Save them from what?"

She was not going to like the answer.

-~-~

On July 24th to Charles' Potter amazement he found his Hogwarts letter amidst the boring Dursley's mail. Charles had gotten rather good at looking miserable when he was happy (the Dursley's didn't like it when he was happy) so he plastered a miserable look on his face and brought his relatives his mail. The second he was aloud back in his room he tore open the Hogwarts letter and read it with gusto.

This was it! He was finally going to Hogwarts! And Harry and Evan would see--

And just like that the happiness he's been carrying beyond his miserable expression popped.

Oh. Oh no. Charles was the only one to get a letter. What if Harry and Evan couldn't come? He--he couldn't leave them here! They were brothers! They were supposed to stick together! What would Uncle Vernon do to Evan with only Harry to protect him? And Harry couldn't defend himself either! (Common sense would say that Charles couldn't either really but who listened the that?)

Still, Charles might as well write his reply to see if he could go though he didn't know where he would find an owl.

Dear Professor McGonagall,

I have a few concerns about Hogwarts I would like to ask if you have the time. First, where do I get all this supplies? I live with my muggle relatives and they aren't too fond of magic. I doubt they'd take me to a magic shop or that they even know where one is. Second, where would my brothers go while I'm at school? They can't stay here. As I said before my relatives aren't fond of magic, it would be more apt to say they hate it. I worry that if I leave my Aunt and Uncle would treat them even worse. Please reply if you have anywhere for them to stay while I'm at Hogwarts. If you do not, I would not bother. I won't leave this house if I don't know my brothers will be safe.

Sincerely, Charles Fleamont Cadmar Potter

The owl problem was fixed almost as soon as he went outside. An owl swooped down and grabbed his letter and took off with it. Hopefully it was the right owl.

Author's Note

Okay so that was Chapter 1. I usually like to try and finish a story before I post it but I've decided with this one to roll with it and post immediately. I hope I didn't make any glaring mistakes but I wrote this as soon as I got the idea and it took about 4 hrs.

Some notes for if you didn't read the summary. This story has small multicrossover parts in it. It's nothing big, just some kids from various other TV shows going to Hogwarts at the same time as the Potters. You don't have to watch any of the shows the kids are from to read this story.

Rosie Watson, John's daughter from Sherlock is in the same year as Charles, she doesn't have a big part and I don't even think I'll put her dad in at all. (Just know I ship Johnlock so she will mention having two dads and some adopted siblings I made up who aren't at all important to the story.)

Another kid, Harrison Morgan from Dexter will be in Harry's year. I know, I know, Dexter is in Miami, Florida, how did his son get an invite to a boarding school in Britain? Basically Dex took a family vacation at one point and Harrison did some accidental magic in Britain. Hogwarts picked up on it and sent him a letter. So he got one Hogwarts letter and one Ilvermorny letter and chose Hogwarts. Dex thought it was a good idea to send his son away so he would be safer away from Dexter and his enemies. (Also in my personal headcannon Brian survives past S1 but I probably won't mention it. Also I liked Lumen so I always headcannon Dex and her together so when Harrison says "Mom" he's talking about her and I have him a little brother who, again, isn't important to the story. You don't need to know who Dexter and Lumen are to enjoy the story and can consider Harrison an OC if you want.)

Those are the only other fandom kids that are important to the story but if you recognize any familiar last names from other shows who aren't in the original Harry Potter schoolmates list just ask. For example, Beatrice "Trixie" Decker from Lucifer will be in the year above Harry's but will only be mentioned attending things like DA meeting and stuff. No importance to the storyline. And yes I know Lucifer is set in LA, just refer to Harrison's answer for any questions about that.

Tell me if you have any request for a kid cameo and I'll try to grant it. For easy reading try to write it like this:

Kids name

Parents name(s)

Fandom/Fandoms

What country they are from

Any special attributes they might have

You may also include things like:

What year you want them to be in (in accordance to Harry's year)

Anything special you want them to say/do?

I'm certain if I need to find out anything else I can just use their name and the shows name to find more. I will say one thing though, no one who's not in this world. That means no Lord of the Rings, no Avatar:The Last Airbender, no Game of Thrones. It has to be set in the real world. And yes, regretfully, I will include Twilight in that as it technically fits. Want me to include your Sam and Emily, Jared and Kim, Jacob and Renessmee , any wolf and their imprints kid, I can work with that. ( I wonder how many times I'll have to use the vacation and chose the foreign school option?)

Also, no overpowered kids. I'm going to try to make everything work in the realm of possibly so no kids that can alter reality or something.

And these kids have to exist as KIDS in their respective fandom, with their parents as the main character. For example I won't use Wanda and Pietro Maximoff because although they are Magneto's children they are also adult character with their own storylines. (I refuse to accept that Magneto isn't their father. Suck it Marvel.)

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter has brothers fanfiction #minor crossover with sherlock #minor crossover with dexter #harry potter

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eye-zen · 4 years

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SILENE

The sun blended with the bright blue sky like an ornament. Waves crashed on the beach, bringing with it small stones from the sea and sand that became buried between her toes. An ocean breeze opened her nasal passages and a gust of sea salt covered her inhale, The white sandy beach was empty and serene as if she were the only human left on earth. For that moment, I’m sure she wouldn’t have minded if that were true. Using her right pointer finger she drew in the sand, writing, “Where Am I Right Now ? “ As she finished writing, a wave swept along the beach erasing her words.

*TIK TOK TIK TOK TIK TOK TIK TOK TIK TOK”

Her hand was balled up in a fist resting on her right cheek,reluctantly holding her head up. She looked at the clock across the room as it read 8:07 am. The sound of the clock was the loudest thing in the empty office. Echoing a constant reminder that this would be her serene beach for the next 8 hours or 28,800 tik toks to be exact. Her desk was covered in a mound of paper that would be better suited for a beach bonfire but….who wants to get fired on a Friday.

Usually she sat at her desk diligently doing her work and occasionally looking out the window. Daydreaming about staring out of a plane or reading a novel under a palm tree. Her daydreaming at moments felt so real that she became upset whenever she “snapped back to reality”. Wishing one day that her eyes opened and the image of what she imagined would not escape her brown eyes.

She finished her tasks just before noon with a wearisome four hours remaining to the end of her shift. Opening her laptop she exited out of the work programs and logged on to the internet.

Searching google, she typed the question “How Do you lucid dream ? “ An array of images and articles flooded the screen with many directions and tips for lucid dreaming. She clicked through at least 6 pages of tips before the alarm on her phone went off signaling the beginning of lunch. Reaching in her tote, she retrieved a black plastic bag with a bowl of yesterday’s dinner. It was still warm from this morning as she heated it up before leaving the house. Sitting at her desk and eating she continued to look through the many articles and images. There were thousands of people with advice but who was right ?

As she continued browsing…her phone vibrated from a text message…

You’re right, The world has finally gone crazy lol…

Yes, I know lol…

If there was a off button to make everyone STFU I would like to push it..

Lol well I think there is. It’s called Wifi and Tv.

Lol wow, I think you’re right. I’m literally witnessing people go crazy. Just from watching the news on TV and self proclaimed scientists, politicians, and news reporters on social media.

Lol yea i see. Well today I was spared from those at work but well see how the rest of the day goes.

.Lol right, Well what are you doing later ?

I’m not sure yet. No plans, just going home and relaxing, maybe go to the beach.

Ok cool, The beach ? what beach are you going too.

None smh..lol I wish though, Have to speak things into existence.

Yes! You’re right about that. I’ll speak to you later.

Okay…

Time after lunch went relatively quickly. She read enough about dreams to receive her bachelor’s degree and doodled enough to fill a whole children’s book. The clock read 3:50 pm. She thought to herself, 10 more minutes until I’m free. She began cleaning her desk and organizing the folders back accordingly. There was a pile of papers of doodles accumulated from the day. She began throwing them away in the trash. One drawing in particular captured her attention so she decided to keep it. Folding it neatly and placing it in a small zippered compartment on her bag. After a final check of her desk she stood up and left the office.

On the way home she stopped at the grocery store and ran a couple of errands. Once she entered her front door a sigh of relief hit her like falling on a thick pile of feathers.

She placed her groceries on the kitchen counter and washed her hands. Sat down in the chair and answered an incoming text message.

Hey, do you still want to go to the beach ?

what ? I mean yea but when ? I know you don’t mean now.

Sure..yes, now..sooo do you still want to go ?

Do you see what time it is

Yes, I know. We have all the time in the world.

Lol ok. If you say so…

She unpacked her groceries then walked to her bedroom. After undressing then headed to the shower. Bathing herself with a sweet lavender soap that washed off the filth of the day. Following her shower she went back to her bedroom and threw herself on the bed. There, she laid and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes. The black oscillating fan dried her off and swayed her curtains back and forth. Her bag lay at the side of the bed, she rolled over, unzipped a pocket and pulled out the drawing she kept from work. It was a drawing of a beach. There was a full moon that shone bright in the night sky leaving a streak of glistening water in the sea. On the beach was a small bonfire pit and a few feet away from that was a large blanket just under a leaning palm tree. She stared at the drawing for a few minutes before placing it on the nightstand near her bed. After a few deep breaths she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

*ATTENTION ALL PASSENGERS, FLIGHT NUMBER 1135 WILL BE BOARDING IN 15 MINUTES. PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO GATE 7 AND PREPARE TO BOARD YOUR FLIGHT*

The airport was hardly crowded. It was a Tuesday afternoon with a slight overcast. A few people could be seen stretched out on airport chairs awaiting their flight as a few other gates began boarding. Two or three airport workers were canvassing the terminal wiping down seats and searching for trash on the floor. She had a bag of chips that were almost finished and a bottle of water she used to wash it down, Her black sweatpants and hoodie had managed to accumulate a few crumbs. With her phone in her lap she used her pinkie finger to swipe through music switching from song to song.

After finishing the bag of chips she wiped her hand with a paper towel and made her way to the bathroom and back to the boarding gate. Passport and ticket in hand she passed through the gate and walked down the long corridor to the plane. The flight was relatively empty. When she boarded the plane and sat down there were plenty of seats unoccupied. She was assigned to the middle seat in her row. After 15 minutes there seemed to be no one else coming so she moved to the window seat and placed her bag in the seat next to her.

*THANK YOU FOR BOARDING FLIGHT 1135 , PLEASE BE SEATED, FASTEN YOUR SEAT BELT AND PREPARE FOR TAKEOFF*

As the flight attendant began giving the flight instructions she turned her phone on airplane mode and put the playlist on shuffle. The plane began making its way up the airstrip and increased in speed. The plane’s engine began roaring as her back pressed firmly against the seat. Within seconds the slowly began ascending off the ground and towards the sun. She opened the window cover and was now adjacent with the clouds.

*GOOD AFTERNOON LADIES AND GENTLEMEN THIS IS YOUR CAPTAIN SPEAKING. WE WILL BE CLIMBING TO 30,000 FEET. PLEASE REMAIN SEATED UNTIL WE REACH THAT ALTITUDE. THIS FLIGHT IS SCHEDULED TO TAKE 5 HOURS. THE WEATHER IS PRETTY CLEAR UP HERE SO WE EXPECT A SMOOTH RIDE. SIT BACK RELAX AND THANK YOU FOR FLYING WITH US.

*BUZZZ BUZZZ BUZZZ*

The phone vibrated the bed but it was nowhere in sight. With eyes still closed she felt around for it until it stopped vibrating. The fan was still spinning like propellers and had moved the curtain just enough to see out the window. The sun was down but the last bit of light created a purple hue in the sky covered by fresh white clouds. She rolled over and the phone was just under her left leg. When she looked at it, it read…

DO YOU STILL WANT TO GO TO THE BEACH ?

SURE, WHY NOT…

OK MEET ME AT MY HOUSE IN 50 MINUTES…

OK..

She laid in bed for a few minutes before heading to the kitchen for a drink. While she was in there, she grabbed a bottle of water and walked back to the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of her bed she browsed through her phone for a few minutes before preparing to go out.

I AM ON MY WAY..WILL BE THERE IN ABOUT 7 MINUTES.

OK…..WHEN YOU GET HERE JUST OPEN THE GATE AND COME IN.

OK…COOL

The sky was black as tar and the stars painted trails across its surface. The moon was full and occasionally blanketed by passing clouds. There was a slight breeze, warm enough to wear shorts but cool enough for a long sleeve shirt or hoodie. As she approached the black gate, insects could be heard speaking in the bush and dogs barking in the distance. She opened the gate as it squealed and closed it gently behind her. Immediately a hammock caught her attention hanging just under the house. She laid her bag down on a nearby chair and sat in the hammock. As she sat down he exited the front door of the house with two cups in hand.

WHAT’S UP…I HOPE YOU AREN’T ALLERGIC TO NUTS.

NO, I’M NOT.

OK COOL…WELL I MADE A SMOOTHIE. IT HAS BANANA, NUTMEG, PEANUT BUTTER, HONEY AND DATES

UHhhh…..SOUNDS INTERESTING…

JUST TRY IT….

OK.

She took a sip of the smoothie and didn’t die so she began drinking some more.

OK, SO IT’S NOT THAT BAD

LOL OK COOL

Yea SO WHAT BEACH ARE WE GOING TO THIS TIME OF NIGHT.

WELL WE HAVE TIME, BE THERE IN A MINUTE.

They both sat there and drank their smoothies until finished. Talking and discussing their days and plans for the weekend.

WELL I KNOW YOU HAD A LONG WEEK…

HOW WOULD YOU KNOW THAT ?

BECAUSE YOU HAVE A JOB..DOESN’T IT COME WITH THE TERRITORY

WELL IN MY CASE I CAN’T ARGUE WITH THAT..

SO I WANT TO HELP YOU WIND DOWN AND RELAX

OK…HELP LIKE WHAT ?

He walks back in the house for a few minutes and comes back out with a small bag.

OK…SO…THIS IS WHAT I LIKE TO CALL A DREAM KIT.

Lol ok….A DREAM KIT ? You just got weird on me,,

LOL NAH JUST TRUST ME.

He reaches into the bag and pulls out a bottle of lavender oil, diffuser , and Shea. He placed each item on the table just left of the hammock.

JUST RELAX…LAY BACK AND TAKE DEEP BREATHS.

He picks up his phone and turns on a sound of waves, similar to the sounds at a beach.

OK…WOW SO IS THIS YOUR BEACH….SMH

He then puts lavender into the diffuser, letting out a warm scent of lavender that complimented the brisk night air. As she takes deeper breaths her body relaxes more and she falls deeper into the hammock. He grabs a piece of shea from the small container then puts a flame to it. The shea begins to melt in his hand and spreads across his palms. He then picks up the bottle of lavender oil and puts a drop in his hand along with the shea. Rubbing his hands quickly together he creates heat and then grabs her foot. Firmly squeezing until the heat transferred from his hand to her feet. She takes an even deeper breath and inhales the soothing lavender air. He began firmly pressing on her feet inch by inch removing the tension as the stress began escaping with each press. A few minutes had gone by as she laid in silence and gently moaning from the massage.

ARE YOU OK ?

She replied…Yes.

OK, well I need you to do one thing for me.

What is that ?

I need you to continue breathing slowly and deeply. Focus on your inhale and your exhales. Synchronize your breaths with the sound of the waves.

OK, and then what ?

WITH EVERY INHALE THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU WANT AND WITH EVERY EXHALE DISPEL ALL NEGATIVE THOUGHTS.

OK…

Her body temperature began rising and her breaths got deeper and deeper. After a final exhale her body got a tingling sensation and everything went black. When she blinked her eyes she looked up at the moon and its mesmerizing presence. As she continued gazing at the moon she could hear the waves crashing in the background. Her eyes slowly panned until she was staring at the sea. In disbelief she looked around and realized she was on the beach. The hammock was now a large quilt and it was under a palm tree instead of the house. A few feet to the left of her was a small bonfire with crackling wood. She stood up and started walking towards the water. A wave washed her feet and removed all of the sand, only to put more in between her toes. She began walking up the beach, feet sinking deep into the sand with every step. She walked towards the moon which was so large it felt as though she could grab it.

HEY ! ….you couldn’t hear me ?

Huh…um no. No, I couldn’t hear anything.

Dam,Yea you was knocked out for a couple of hours.

At that moment an alarm goes off..

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

Oh No not again… SMH

Not again what… What’s wrong ?

Don’t tell me this is another D…

Yes…….it’s another Dinner. That’s the alarm for dinner at the restaurant on the beach. Did you not like the food last time ?

She turns around and sees a trail of lights and hears the faint sound of laughter, music, and forks clanking against plates.

No, It’s ok, Lets go

We have to be there in 20 minutes. Let’s try to make it on time today,

They both started walking on the beach towards their belongings.

Wow..i Just had the weirdest dream. Felt like I was there……

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