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anxiousstark · 4 years

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The Name of the Game | Mitch Rapp

Warnings: Vulgar vocabulary, public sex (if you squint), unprotected sex (this is a fic, be safe), teasing, foreplaying, etc. Porn with some plot.

Word Count: 3280

A/N: First time writing smut so, please don’t kill me. This CAN’T be considered flithy after the 11k I wrote for the Dylan fic.

BIG MASTERLIST | MIATCHEMBER | KO-FI

A long dark green silky dress hugged the shape of your body, accentuating the most appealing parts of your physique. Your bareback was full of goosebumps as your hair caressed the uncovered skin. Besides, your makeup was done flawlessly, emphasising the most attractive features you had.

Your walk was confident, the clicking of your heels turning heads towards you. Your presence too big for the room. However, you ignored the desiring gazes that you received from both men and women, focusing on your mission.

Liam Zajicek was your objective. A young and attractive man who was being searched by almost every CIA agent. At the young age of 22 years old, he was probably the most searched and wanted hacker. The CIA had been searching for him since last year when he successfully altered the votes in the elections of the new president of America. However, Zajicek was stealthy, not leaving any hint that could implicate him in such a grave crime.

But the man you worked for was even more stealthy, preparing his next moves before Liam Zajicek had the opportunity to do anything. And his next move was you.

The mission was easy, too easy for you. You would be lying if you denied feeling offended for receiving such a simplistic mission. It was as lightly as seducing Liam. Even if he was a talented hacker, he was still a young man who would be sex-driven.

A man in a tuxedo walked closer to you, a tray on his right hand, lowering it so you could grab the drink you craved. Nodding while offering him a charming smile, your eyes gazed around, trying to find the man whose pictures you had studied closely.

The ballroom was full of people. Elegant dresses and tuxedos, expensive drinks, and perfumes. It was the perfect environment to seduce someone, leading them out of the public eye to kill them. However, Liam was going to be luckier as your boss wanted to be the one taking care of him.

The golden light appeared to illuminate your beauty as you wandered closer to the bar, discerning your target talking to a considerably alluring woman. Sitting in a luxurious barstool, you crossed your right leg on top of your left one, causing the cut of the dress to expose your glowing skin.

Setting your intense gaze on him, waiting for his eyes to meet yours. Your tongue wetted your lip, exaggerating the action a little more as Liam Zajicek noticed you. His mouth turned into a smirk, eyes focused on you as he ignored whatever the red-haired girl was telling him.

The music turned into a ballad. Getting up from the barstool, you walked to the floor where some couples were already slow dancing, enjoying the closeness, and hoping to bring a nice one-night stand to their hotel room. As you walked to the floor, your gaze was focused on Liam. He completely ignored the red-haired woman, walking to where you were standing.

"Are you maybe waiting for someone who will have the chance to slow dance with you?" His voice was husky, and you weren't sure if it was due to the desperation he was radiating, or if it was his usual tone.

Your left hand grabbed his right hand, placing it on your waist. "I was hoping you would be that lucky someone." Your white teeth accentuated the red rich, rosewood lipstick.

His other hand instantly grabbed your other side, dragging you closer to him while your hands rested on his shoulders. "May I get your name?"

You wanted to groan, feeling a little overthrown. You expected to have fun during this mission, have some sexual tension yourself. But the way his hands only pulled you closer, without teasing you in some way was telling you that Liam Zajicek didn't have as much experience with women as he did with hacking.

"Holland," You lied, not displaying such valuable information to someone who was a mere target. "May I get yours?" This time it was you pulling him closer, biting your lower lip.

His eyes sparkled, and if you had gotten a little closer, he would have thrust against you, rutting just there. "I'm Adrian." You tried not to scoff, knowing that he was also lying.

His hands went lower, moving towards your back. He bit his lower lip too excessively, and you tried to contain a roll of your eyes. His hips got closer to yours, letting you know that there was a bulge growing, although nothing prominent.

"So," His fingers relocated, grazing your back. "Such a pretty lady coming to a party like this one on your own?" The knife being held by your garter ached to be grabbed. "Is your dad one of those rich men?" He smirked. "Because that means it will be difficult to impress you, baby." The pet name sounded lame coming from him.

Before you could answer, the music switched. The melody was still slow, a little more sensual, and you saw people wandering around to dance with other people, bodies even closer than before.

"May I take her from you now?" A deeper voice interrupted your words. Looking beside you, a man's gaze was focused on you. The other men preferred to look at your cleavage while this one preferred to gaze into your eyes, at least for now.

Before you could answer, the black-haired man had glared at Liam, making him walk away, whispering that he would try and find you later.

"Do I know you?" You did. You knew him, and he knew you. However, you both wanted to have a little fun, ignoring the detail of recognising each other.

Mitch Rapp innocently smiled at you. "I don't believe so." You had seen pictures of him that your boss had shown you, and this wouldn't be the first time Mitch Rapp had the same purpose as you. He had shaved his beard and styled his quite long dark hair. "But I wouldn't mind getting to know such a good-looking lady."

You grinned. Your hands dropped from his shoulders to run down his chest, pressing against firm muscles. Not caring about your long dress, his left leg parted yours, resting in the middle, grazing the sides of your inner thighs. His left hand slid from your back, resting upon your butt, pulling you even closer. His face near yours, warm breath hitting your top lip while his lightly upturned nose rested against the tip of yours.

"You told him your name is Holland, uh." He smirked. His right hand was on the right side of your waist, pulling you even closer to the point where your core was placed directly on top of his thigh. "I thought I told you this type of dudes are the CIA's business, Y/N."

You smirked, tongue leaping out to wet your lower lip, accidentally grazing his bottom lip, which made him try and hide a grunt. "You know I like the excitement of ruining your plans. And if Stan gets mad, it's a plus." You grinned. "Plus my boss wants him."

"I'm going to have to teach you a lesson." He scoffed. "So disobedient, always making my job harder." You suggestively glanced at him, noticing that wasn't the only hard thing you provoked as his bulge was pressed against your core. He understood what you were implying, shaking his head. The hand that was resting on your butt went to the front, brushing your tummy while going down. Disappointment overflowed you as his fingers skipped the part you desired he would graze, going directly under your dress, grabbing the knife that was being held by your garter. "You changed the place of the knife."

"Couldn't have you finding it again." You whined as his cold fingers left your thigh, not taking the blade as he was confident you wouldn't use it against him. "But seems like you did."

"Leave this one for me, baby girl." He referred to Zajicek, knowing he will have to fight you to take you away from whatever your boss had ordered you to do.

"Do you know how much I will get paid for this, Rapp?" Your hands went up again, circling his neck to bring him closer. Your next words made your lips brush against his. "A lot of money, Rapp. More than you can imagine." Your gaze moved around, remembering what you were there for. Mitch Rapp had distracted you from your objective. "Shit."

The man that was keeping you close to him turned around, following your gaze until he saw Liam speaking to a man while glancing at you two. He had discovered that you both were there to get him. He swiftly pushed through people, trying to escape both of you. "Fuck." Mitch's hands left your body, stepping as quickly as possible, following Zajicek. You did the same, trying to ignore the fabric stuck to your lower lips, confirming the effect Mitch Rapp had on you.

You lost both of them, finding yourself in an empty hall, glancing around. It wasn't until you heard a thump that you knew where both men were. Rushing to a white and golden door, you were met with Mitch as he dodged a chair that was thrown to his head by Liam.

You quickly walked closer, jumping on Zajicek's back, arms tightly around his neck, trying to choke him. "Mitch, he is mine." Your legs around his waist, pressing your thighs against him, trying to weaken the lower part of his body. Nonetheless, Liam Zajicek used his elbows to hit your stomach, causing you to fall on your butt and back, your breath being kicked out of you.

"No way, baby girl." He grunted as he ran after Liam again. As soon as you were able to get up, you ran behind them, seeing them going inside another room, which seemed to be an office. Liam tried to kick a shelf. Mitch was strong enough to stop the entire shelf from falling on top of him, although he would have a big bruise on the back of his arm.

Liam's eyes widened as he understood how tough, and trained Mitch Rapp was, running to a door that was inside the office. Pulling it open, he was met with no exit. Mitch and you ran to the other chamber, which was a bathroom.

You quickly kicked Liam's chest with your heels, making him wail in pain, collapsing on his bottom. Mitch gripped the boy's hair, dragging him over the white porcelain bath, turning the water on, and splashing his face with the head of the shower until he was turning purple as he couldn't breathe.

"Where's the SD?" You asked Zajicek. When he didn't answer you, Mitch turned the water on again. But the boy resisted, not wanting to reveal his secrets.

Your hands rapidly moved around Liam's body, going inside his pockets until your fingers found a hard object. Mitch Rapp was too distracted threatening the hacker. It was your opportunity to flew from the room with the SD you needed. Proof enough for your boss to get the money from finding and discovering the ways of Liam Zajicek.

You rushed out of the bathroom, not getting too far as a hand grabbed your right elbow. You didn't have time to turn around as a rough body pushed you against the desk placed on the middle of the office. Your chest was tightly squeezed against the hard wooden surface, while a body was pressed to the lower part of your body. A hand around the back of your neck, keeping you in place. A veiny hand came to view, grasping the SD card from your grip. "Such a snake, baby girl."

"I repeat," You tried to get away from his grasp, unsuccessfully. "I like ruining your plans."

"Good," You heard him shuffle behind you, probably hiding the SD in one of his pockets. "It's my turn to ruin you." There was no time to proceed his words as both of his hands went to the cut on your leg, ripping the dress so he could see what was underneath. His cold fingers grabbed the knife, throwing it somewhere in the room. "No underwear." He grunted, hips colliding with yours, showing how desperate he was.

You moaned, using your elbows to hold yourself up. You turned your head to look at him, his eyes already on you. "Underwear looks horrible with such a delightful dress." His eyes slipped from you to look down at your folds. Seeing the satisfaction in his eyes, you decided to move your hips back, hitting his hips again, leaving a little damp mark on the front of his pants due to your wetness. His eyes went back to yours, holding your gaze as the fingers of his right hand teased your folds, not touching them completely, just grazing them. "Mitch, you better touch me right now. I swear to g-." Your words were interrupted as he conducted your wish. Two of his fingers rubbing the wetness of your pussy all over your folds, making you gasp and hold his gaze.

"So wet." His fingers left your core, making you whine. He placed his hand between your centre and the desk, his fingers going back to the sought place. This time, toying with your clit as the other hand ran up, grabbing your boob through the dress, squeezing, and pinching. "Fuck. How can you be so wet even before I started touching you."

"You always do the same." Your hips trapped his hand against the desk, riding his hand as he played with your clit. "You always get me all turned on, and then, you leave." Your right hand stopped supporting your weight, blindly going behind your body until it was wrapping Mitch's bulge. "How can you be so hard even before I touched you."

"Shut up," He groaned, a little smirk decorating his face. His hand left your clit as he felt how you fere fastening your peace against him. His other hand removing yours off his bulge. He rapidly unzipped his jeans, and after thrusting his hips a couple of times against yours, he lowered his boxers. His left hand pushed your face against the desk, keeping you there as the head of his dick caressed your wet folds. "We have no time, baby girl. We have to be quick." He pushed the head between your folds, teasing. "No time to eat you out, no time to have my dick deep down your throat, and no time to finger you." You could notice that he was talking with a pout on his lips. He finally decided to shove himself fully in you.

"Mitch," You whined. "Don't go all soft on me, please." The grip he had around your neck tightened while his dick went out of your pussy, just to go back inside at a slow pace. You were going to beg him to do you harder, and faster, but the ringing of your phone interrupted you.

"Who's it?" Mitch mumbled. As you wanted to ignore the call, you didn't answer, which made Rapp stop his slow thrusts. When you complained, turning around to peer at him, he had an earnest expression. "I asked you a question, kitten." Your legs trembled, and you were grateful that Mitch and the desk retained your entire body.

With shaky fingers, you clutched your phone. Hazy vision trying to guess the ID of the caller. "Stan," You answered. Mitch couldn't help but smirk at the chance of fucking you while your boss was on call.

"Well, kitten." His hips went back, going forward, roughly, fastening the pace. "No more foreplay for us." Mitch and you did this in every mission that Stan sent the both of you to. You both acted as if you were each other's competition, ending up fucking somewhere after capturing or killing your target. "Answer him, baby." Your eyes widened, and before you could talk, Mitch thrust a couple of times into you, fast.

"Y-yes?" You replied after sliding your finger on the screen of the phone to accept the call.

"You guys are taking more time than normal. Was there any problem?" His annoyed voice sounded over the line, making you both roll your eyes.

Your hand went to your mouth, keeping yourself from moaning while being on the phone. Mitch was going harder and deeper as possible. His balls hitting your clit every time he thrust. "W-we already have him, Stan. We will be back soon." Soon, you were going to cum soon, not being able to hold back from how quick Mitch was doing you. "We are taking more time as I lost my knife," You plainly lied. "You know how much I love that kn-." A loud moan interrupted your sentence, followed by a couple of more.

"Oh my god, you horny rabbits." Stan realised what both of you were up to. "Finish quickly, and come back with Zajicek." He hung up.

"You heard him, kitten." He pushed you even farther into the desk, ordering you to stay there. His left hand went to your waist, moving your body to meets his thrusts. His right hand found its place on your clit, expertly moving in circles until your knees were buckling. "Come on, baby. Come on." He groaned, knowing you were so close to your high.

He pressed his chest against your back, his teeth biting your ear, not scared to moan loudly, letting you know that you had the same power on him that he had on you. "I'm so close baby." You could feel his dick grazing places that could make any woman pass out from pleasure. His member pulsating in you, letting you grasp that he was close.

A couple more of thrusts and he was cumming inside you, the movement of his hips still hitting you, perceiving you were close. "Mitch!" Your mouth was open, and a trail of drool running down your chin as your body shook from how hard you were cumming. His load filled you up, and even after both of you had reached your highs, Mitch was still inside you, pressed against you while breathing hard.

"Fuck, even quickies with you left me all satisfied." He groaned, deciding to slip his dick from you, which made you whine as you loved being filled up by him. Now, you moaned, the mix of your juices falling down your thighs. "Let me go grab you a towel." He moved to the bathroom, to come back a couple of minutes later with a warm wet towel on his hands, not hesitating to gently clean you up, knowing you were quite sensitive after sex.

"Hey," Your eyes widened. "What about Zajicek?"

"He was unconscious when I came here as you tried to escape." He hummed, concentrating on cleaning you up. "But when I went back inside to get the towel, he was conscious, tied to the bath. He probably enjoyed you moaning loudly." He winked, making you feel flustered.

"Mitch Rapp," You groaned. "My dress it's all ripped. How am I supposed to get out of this party like this?" You pointed at the ripped dress he was guilty of as he couldn't wait until you unzipped it to be inside you.

"You will have to keep closer to me, baby girl." He grabbed you, dragging you closer to his body. Your hands ended up against his firm chest. "Hard again?" You chuckled, feeling his bulge on the lower part of your tummy.

"Wait until we get home, Y/N Rapp." He winked. "I'm going to fuck you so hard, Ms. Rapp."

Taglist: @og-baby-ob14 - @siwiecola - @linkpk88 -

People in bold means I can’t tag them.

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kinglazrus · 3 years

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Deep Wounds Ch. 2 - What Now?

Previous | Next | AO3 | FFN

Word count: 4069

It takes ten minutes for everyone to change and clear out. During that time, an invisible Danny floats in one of the shower stalls, his gym bag clutched to his chest, one hand clamped around his mouth. If it hadn't been for Dash's shout of "No!" he might not have hidden in time. Danny only had a few seconds to snatch up his bandages and bag—but not the gauze—before the first person entered.

It was Tucker, thankfully. He gaped when he saw Danny and quickly waved for him to hide. Just in time, too, since Elliot was only a few steps behind.

Now, Danny can only hear a single person shuffling about.

"It's clear," Tucker whispers.

Danny floats through the door of the shower stall, breathing a sigh of relief when he sees the empty change room. He drops his invisibility and dumps his stuff on the floor in favour of clutching his side. "Why didn't I stay home today?"

"Because you want to graduate this year and you can't afford another absence." Tucker grabs his gym shirt off the floor, revealing the forgotten gauze pad, and sighs at the new stains. "I really liked this shirt."

"Sorry, man."

"Dude, you are literally bleeding. Shut up. You don't need to apologize. Just be glad I got my shirt off before Elliot could see the damn thing." Tucker grabs the gauze, rolls it into a ball, and tosses it toward the garbage can. "Ten points!"

The gauze bounces off the rim and falls to the floor.

"Zero points," Danny says.

"Rude."

"Hey, I'm bleeding, remember?"

"That only gets you a pass from saying sorry, not common decency."

Danny's shoulders shake as he laughs. It hurts, making his left side throbbing, but trying to hold it back hurts worse. "Ow, ow, ow," he says, gasps of pain interrupting him. Curling over, he hugs his side even tighter, fighting back a sharp cry. The tension in his body doesn't help, but the pressure on his side feels good.

"Sam on her way?" Danny asks.

"She's grabbing the first-aid kit from my locker. I'll fix you up this time. We all know I have steadier hands." That A-plus in home ec isn't for nothing.

"Thanks," Danny mumbles.

"Yeah, dude. We've got you."

After Sam arrives, Tucker redoes Danny's stitches in record time. Half of the lunch hour has passed by the time Danny gets patched up, but he doesn't feel hungry anyway. Tucker takes his and Danny's bloody gym shirts and stuffs them into the first-aid kit.

"I need to refill on some supplies at home," Tucker explains. "I'll get rid of these there."

"Good idea. My mom found a pair of jeans I forgot to throw away after a fight with Skulker. I had a hard time explaining that one away," Danny says. The "I tripped into a window" excuse probably only works once, anyway. "But we have another problem."

"Dash?" Sam asks.

Danny nods. "Yeah. How did you know?"

"He was acting weird when gym ended. Wouldn't let anyone come inside until we pushed him out of the way."

"Huh." Danny certainly didn't expect that. Dash might be a downright bully anymore, but he's still not prone to random acts of kindness. "That's... weird." It doesn't make up for him tearing Danny's wound back open, even if it was an accident, but it's something.

"I think we might not have to worry about him," Sam says.

Danny stares at her, incredulous. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, actually. He could have done anything when he saw the rest of the class coming, including telling everyone that you were hurt. But he stopped them instead."

"But this is Dash."

"That's surprising coming from you."

"What does that even mean? You guys and Valerie are being so weird today. Come on, Tucker. Back me up." Danny looks at Tucker, fully expecting him to be on Danny's side.

Tucker doesn't respond right away. Biting his thumbnail, he stares ahead at the floor, deep in thought. That alone is enough to send Danny for a loop. When Tucker does answer, Danny's jaw drops in disbelief.

"I'm with Sam on this."

"For real?"

"Yeah, man. We don't even know what Dash thinks he saw, anyway. What happened when he walked in?" Tucker asks.

Danny tells them, sparing no detail.

"Oh, wow."

Sam shakes her head. "I'll say. I can't believe you wailed at him."

"Almost. I almost wailed at him. It was a baby wail at most. More of a hum," Danny says. He was just so surprised when Dash walked in. Danny's instincts took over and all he could think about was getting Dash out of there as soon as possible. He is lucky no one else came running.

"That already will have freaked him out. If we go around making a big deal about it and getting in his face, that'll make things worse." Sam stands up from the floor, stretching her arms over her head. She looks completely unconcerned, so does Tucker for that matter. Both of them are content to let Dash be. "Let's wait to see what he does. If he starts spreading rumours, we'll know right away, and then we can confront him."

"On the other hand, he might go to you, Danny, first," Tucker adds. He takes a bottle of Aspirin from the first-aid kit and presses it into Danny's hand before zipping the bag up. "He might not do anything."

The bottle of Aspirin rattles as Danny twists the lid off. "I can't believe you guys are okay with this." He dumps a couple of pills into his palm and tosses them back. Wordlessly, Sam passes him a water bottle. One quick swig is all he needs to help the pills go down. "He could be telling everyone right now."

"He could," Sam admits. "But he won't."

Sam and Tucker get up to leave, and Danny's forced to follow, or else get left behind. He trails after them, stiff, sore, and aching. The pills won't kick in for a while, and he loathes having to walk now. If he could get away with it, he would spend the rest of the day floating through the halls.

Tragically, he has a secret to protect. One that is very much at risk right now, despite what Sam says. Wherever she and Tucker are getting their confidence from, Danny doesn't share it. He just hopes they're right.

Dash tries to hold it in. He really does. The sound of Danny's anger bearing down on him, reverberating through the change room, hasn't stopped rattling around his head. But as lunch nears its end, the words burst out of him.

"I think Fenton is in a gang or something," Dash says.

The table falls silent.

Kwan freezes in place, hand halfway to his mouth, and a piece of meatloaf falls off his fork. "You... what?"

"I think Danny is in a gang," Dash repeats, softer.

His friends gape at him, equally confused. Mostly. Star doesn't even look up from her math homework. In fact, Dash thinks she's smiling, but he ignores it.

"Kwan, I thought you said Danny was the one who got hit during gym class," Paulina says. She pushes her lunch aside and leans across the table, lifting a hand to Dash's forehead. "Are you sure you got it right?"

"I'm fine, Paulie." Dash ducks under his hand and hunkers low to the table. When no one else moves, he gestures for them to come closer. Kwan does so immediately. Paulina rolls her eyes but obliges.

"I'm good," Star says.

"Okay, so, I checked on Fenton after dropping him off, 'cause he looked kind of bad, and I guess, I don't know. I felt... whatever. It doesn't matter. But like, he had this huge cut."

Paulina grins and leans in closer, finally looking invested. "You felt kind of 'whatever?'"

Dash scowls. "Seriously, Paulie?"

"You're the one who said it!" Paulina smacks the table, a fit of giggles bursting from her. It's her "I've found some juicy gossip" noise and Dash hates it.

"Did you even hear me? Huge cut and all that?" Dash says.

Kwan shrugs. "I don't know. His parents build a lot of crazy stuff, don't they? He probably hurt himself on one of those. Did you see that new gun they were toting around last week? It melted Mr. Lancer's car!"

"Oh, my God. I totally saw that. I felt so bad for him," Paulina says.

Dash frowns down at the table while the conversation plods on. True, everyone knows the Fentons have some crazy inventions. But everything they make, they make to hurt ghosts, not people. Everyone in town has been caught in the Fentons crossfire at one point or another. Dash still remembers the disgusting taste of the Fenton Foamers. Like warm, month-old key lime yogurt. Disgusting, but ultimately harmless.

And Danny didn't just have a little cut. It was huge. Dash only got a brief look at it, but that short glance told him everything he needed to know. Something, or someone, had hurt Danny. Rather than going to the hospital—because no trained professional would do such a sloppy job—Danny fixed it himself or got his friends to fix it. The injury had to be new, too, since it was still bleeding.

But stitches could bleed if you ripped them, didn't treat the injury right. Judging by the placement, Danny's stitches must pull every time he moves his arm.

Could one of his parents' guns have done that?

Now that Dash thinks about it, he doesn’t remember ever seeing Danny get hit with his parents' weapons. Not their guns, at least. They have that dumb boomerang thing that he's seen smack Danny on the back of the head. Actually, that one hits Danny a lot.

Dash's frown deepens, etching into his face. Why on Earth would one of Danny's own parents' inventions hurt him so much? Unless...

"Hey, guys?" Dash asks, interrupting Star mid-sentence.

"You found more proof of Fenton's gang activities?" Paulina asks.

"What if, like, someone's hurting him?"

"You mean one of his gang buddies?"

"No, Paulie, I'm serious. What if someone is hurting him?"

The table falls silent once more, but this time, his friends' expressions are serious rather than disbelieving.

Kwan lowers his voice. "Do you really think... I mean, Fenton?"

"Well..." Star taps her chin. "Where was he hurt?"

"Here." Dash taps his ribs on his left side, under his arm.

Star nods. "Okay. Are you sure he couldn't have, you know...." She trails off, but Dash already knows what she means.

"No way. He could hardly see the cut, much less do it himself. And it was bad."

"So he was hurt, badly, in a place that no one else would normally see. He didn't miss any school, so he probably didn't go to the hospital. Was it recent?"

Dash nods. "There was blood. Too much to just be because of the stitches."

Star drums her fingers on the table, nodding slowly. "I think you could be right."

The A-listers glance around the table, meeting each other's eyes. None of them say anything, but the same question lurks in all their minds. Now what?

In the days following the change room debacle, Danny avoids Dash like his life depends on it. Which it might. Any time he sees Dash in the hall, he turns right around and walks away. When they're in class, Danny stares straight ahead and refuses to look Dash's way. In gym class, Tetslaff lets him sit out, finally. Having Danny blackout on her after she forced him to play must have spooked her because she benches him before he can even ask not to play.

"No student of mine is gonna pass out on my watch. Twice," she says.

It won't last forever, but Danny will take what he can get, while he can get it.

But the thing is, Dash doesn't try anything. It's surreal. For the past four years, Danny has grown accustomed to Dash's constant harassment. Even when it dropped significantly in sophomore year, Dash never stopped. He threw erasers at Danny during class, tripped him in the halls, called out teasing names every chance he got.

"I'm not the only one who thinks this is weird, right?" Danny asks Tucker on the third day.

Already done his lunch, Tucker is thoroughly engrossed by his phone and doesn't look up as he replies. "You think everything is weird lately."

"Because it is."

"Missing your quality time with Dash?" Tucker flashes a quick grin in Danny's direction before returning to his phone.

"Har, har. You are so funny." Danny would have to be some kind of masochist to miss Dash's badgering. It's just... strange, not to have to watch the halls for him in that way. It doesn't make Danny watch any less—in fact, he finds himself looking for Dash more than before. So that he can run away if he gets close. Except Dash isn't even trying, and that annoys the hell out of him.

Tucker sighs, finally putting down his phone, and rests a hand on Danny's head. "Such a hopeless young soul. Can't even understand your own heart."

Danny slaps the hand away. "Says the guy who asked out every girl in school because they all made him feel the same way because it turns out he's super ace and didn't actually feel anything for any of them."

"And what an emotional journey that was." Tucker faces Danny head-on. "Look, Danny. If it's bothering you that much, then go talk to him. Feed him some excuse about what happened. Just remember that there's a reason Sam and I think it will be okay."

Danny ponders Tucker's advice for the rest of the day. The weekend starts tomorrow, which gives him two whole Dash-free days to think about the situation. Maybe a little time to himself as what he needs. He goes for a flight after school rather than walking home with Tucker; being in the air always helps clear his head.

He soars far above the city until he is little more than a pinprick to everyone far below. At the peak of his flight, his phone rings. The caller ID shows it's Jazz.

"What's up?" he greets his sister.

"Taken over my room yet?" Jazz asks.

"When you've only been at college for a month? Of course." It made a great storage space. Danny turns over to float on his stomach and starts drifting down like a leaf, falling back and forth on the wind.

"Well, I'm gonna need it back this weekend."

"Dropping out already?"

"You wish. I got a tutoring gig: two sessions—Saturday and Sunday. I don't want to do the two hours there and back both days, so I'm coming home for the weekend."

"I can't believe someone is actually paying to spend time with you. Hope the loser doesn't rub off on them."

Jazz laughs. "Pretty sure any loser on my came from you. And it's four people. Actually, you know them."

When Danny comes downstairs Saturday morning and sees Jazz's students at the kitchen table, he stops dead.

"You have got to be kidding me," he says.

"Hi, Danny!" Paulina waves, far too perky for nine in the morning. Squished around the table with her, Kwan and Star offer their own small waves. Dash looks straight down at his textbook.

"Goodbye." Danny pivots and marches back toward the stairs. Forget breakfast; he didn't want to eat, anyway. He can still have a nice, relaxing, Dash-free day in the confines of his bedroom.

A cascade of whispers reaches his ears as he hits the first stair. The A-listers murmur too quiet for him to make out what they're saying, although he thinks he catches his name more than once. Maybe they're talking about how uncanny it is being inside his house. Or, perhaps, they're discussing the new school nurse, Tammy. But even as he thinks it, he knows neither theory is true.

A chair screeches in the kitchen, the plastic capped legs scraping against the linoleum. Danny throws himself up the stairs.

"Oh, Danny, wait!" Paulina's silky voice follows him.

He jerks to a stop at the landing, cringing. How mad would she be if he ignored her? It's funny to think that a few years ago his heart would have leapt at Paulina calling out his name, back when he had a crush on her.

His toes curl against the carpet as he hesitates; the pros and cons of ignoring her run through his head. Pro: he won't have to deal with whatever scheme she's up to, and Paulina is most certainly up to something. Con: she might sic Dash on him, and he's the last person Danny wants to see right now. But that's a moot point because Dash is already here. After some humming and hawing, he grits his teeth and turns back around.

Paulina hangs out the kitchen doorway, greeting him with a bright smile.

"Yes, Paulina?" Danny asks.

It should be physically impossible for her smile to get any wider, and yet it does. "You're having trouble in science class, right?"

Danny hesitates. "Maybe. Why?"

"So are we! We came here for a study session with your sister, since she was Casper's best student in thirty decades. You should join us!"

"Isn't Star acing all her classes? And I thought science was your best class."

Paulina rolls her eyes and huffs, but without any malice. It reminds him of the look Tucker gives his little cousins when they are being intentionally obstinate. Danny flushes, suddenly feeling stupid even though he doesn't understand why.

"Yeah, we're good at it, but the boys aren't. Duh." She says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it is. "It's easier to study in a group."

"Thanks, but no thanks. I like studying alone."

Paulina's smile doesn't fall, but it changes. Danny can't quite place what it turns into. Her mouth curves upward and her teeth are exposed; objectively, it's still a smile. But there's a new tension to it, one Danny only notices now, but he thinks might have been there the whole time, lurking behind the bright façade. His grip on the newel post tightens, the wood creaking beneath his finger.

At times like this, Danny wishes his ghost abilities included reading emotions. The look Paulina is giving him is important, he can feel it, even though he can't explain it. But it doesn't mean anything if he can't decipher it.

"If you say so." The moment shatters. Paulina withdraws back into the kitchen, leaving Danny alone and wondering if he missed something important.

Down the hall from him, Jazz's bedroom door opens. She emerges with an armful of books—old schoolbooks, Danny notes.

"Not hanging out with Sam and Tucker today?" she asks.

"Jazz, it's not even noon yet. I don't think Tucker's awake." Danny glances down the stairs toward the kitchen, mulling something over in his head. "I kind of want some alone time today. I know you're tutoring and everything, but could you make sure they don't bother me?"

Jazz frowns. "Is everything okay?"

"There was an... incident with Dash at school."

"Boy troubles?"

"Jazz!" Danny's entire face turns scarlet. "Please never say that about Dash." He lowers his voice. "It was ghost-related troubles."

Jazz's expression goes stony, her teasing smile replaced by a serious frown. "Do I need to take care of him for you?"

"Oh, my God, Jazz! Just keep him away from my room!" He marches the rest of the way to his room to the sound of Jazz's snickers and slams the door behind him.

When Paulina returns to the kitchen, Dash sits up straighter. She shakes her head as she reclaims her seat next to Star. Dash deflates again.

"I told you this wouldn't work," Dash says.

"Don't be so silly. That wasn't even plan A, although it would make things easier. Are you sure you didn't do anything to him in that change room?" Paulina asks.

Dash groans. "Please. Please never say anything like that again. It sounds so wrong."

"You're the one who took it that way."

Star and Kwan laugh at Dash's misfortune, watching him bury his face in his arms. When Star suggested they gather evidence, to confirm whether or not Danny was being abused at home, this wasn't what Dash expected. He pictured spy movie antics with them sneaking through the bushes dressed all in black, peeking through windows until they say something that proved—or disproved—their theory.

Things would go a lot easier if Dash could actually talk to Danny, but ever since that moment in the change room, he can't. He knows Danny has been avoiding him, which is better short term. If Danny walked up to Dash right now demanding to talk about what happened, Dash wouldn't know what to say.

How many times has he hurt Danny (pushed, kicked, body-checked) when he was injured? There's a possibility, however slim, that this was a fluke, the first time Danny has ever come to school injured. There have to be loads of reasons someone might not go to the hospital, such as bad insurance. Dash's cousin broke her nose once and let it heal crooked instead of going to the doctor since it was cheaper. He's heard stories of people sacrificing their health rather than paying exorbitant hospital fees. It's not impossible.

Except Danny's parents are inventors. They do projects for the government and can afford to throw money around for ridiculous ghost hunting contraptions. The Emergency Ops Centre only two floors above them must have cost millions. If that's the case, then surely his parents can afford a hospital visit for such a bad wound.

Dash doesn’t like to think about the alternative, but he has to. The alternative is the whole reason he and his friends are here.

That doesn't help with Dash's other dilemma, though. How is he supposed to talk to Fenton, now? Dash doesn't think he knows how to interact with Danny without some form of aggression. Even when he stopped outright bullying people, he never stopped with Danny. A push here, a shove there. It is instinct for Dash to stick his foot out if he sees Danny coming.

Danny even returns the favour, sometimes, growing bolder the older they became. Dash still doesn't know how Danny keeps getting into his stuffed bear collection, but it's not unusual for him to find one in his locker or sitting at his desk when he returns to class.

It's what they do. Dash can't help it. Any time he manages to trip Danny up enough that he gets a glare or a vengeful smile, it makes him feel good.

But he can't do that now. If Danny is actually getting hurt at home, Dash can't in his right mind keep agitating him. Just thinking about what he did to Danny's stitches makes him pale. He doesn't even want to think about what other wounds he's made worse over the years.

And he has. Dash knows this without a doubt. Thinking back on their interactions this year alone, more than five occasions come to mind where Danny grimaced, or flinched, or clutched some part of his body after Danny bumped his shoulder in the hall. It feels him with an indescribable dread, but the worst of it is he can't understand why.

He never knew Danny was injured; he can't be entirely to blame. Thinking that does nothing to assuage his guilt, though.

"Okay!" Jazz Fenton announces herself with a bright chirp. She clutches a stack of textbooks to her chest; books Dash recognizes from their classes. The idea that she stole them from the school flashes through his mind, but that's ludicrous. Jazz doesn't have a criminally minded bone in her body. If anything, she bought them, or the school gave them to her for being that amazing. Either option is more likely than her committing a crime.

Jazz slams the books down on the table directly across from Dash. She flashes him a brilliant smile as she sits and folds her hands over the table.

"So, Dash." She tilts her head. Her smile no longer looks kind. "I've heard some interesting things about you."

Previous | Next

#phic phight #phic phight 2021 #phanfic #phicc #dp fanfiction #danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #danny fenton #dash baxter #swagger bishie #danny/dash #deepwounds

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razorblade180 · 3 years

Text

Interdimensional Moms: Bonus

Part 4 here<-

After many tears and tissue boxes, all members of team RWBY had finally stopped crying. Blake was the best off with her eyes a little red while Ruby was the complete opposite. The girl’s face was still rather red and her eyes were puffy. She hadn’t even completely stopped sniffling yet; much like tear marked partner. Yang on the other hand rested her head on the table. She had cried hard enough to giver herself a minor headache. She was completely drained.

Yang:Ugh, this blows! I thought this was gonna be a fun learning experience.

Blake:We definitely learned. It just so happens we had to poke at some.... extremely sensitive topics.

Weiss:I’m all for looking inward and self reflection but I’ve had my fill.

Ruby:Same. Should’ve kept the summary light.

Yang:No, I’m glad you got that off your chest. We just need a way to lighten the mood.

Blake:.....I kicked Weiss’s butt in a tournament.

RWY:......What?

Blake:During the time spent training for Salem, another tournament was held between the schools. It had team matches and singles. I kicked Weiss’s butt in my fourth round. It was a good day.

Weiss:How is that lightening mood!?

Blake:Listen, it was a big deal! I never thought I was gonna win the whole tournament but I really wanted to beat you. I love you but your head gets a little big when you’re on a roll for too long; plus I just really didn’t want to lose. I always felt a bit of rivalry between us.

Yang:Hehe, is that you’re way of saying “It would look bad to lose to a Schnee?”

Blake:Well it would!

Ruby:Hehehe.

Yang:Wait, does that mean we went back to school?

Blake:Yeah. It was pretty comforting. There was definitely a lot left to learn.

Yang:Weird. School kinda faded into the background.

Ruby:I went back to school. We all did actually. It was fast tracked by roughly a year but it was fun. We all got to pose in caps and gowns.

Weiss:Damn! I should’ve went back just for that. Unfortunately I was busy making rent and learning how to properly preheat a oven.

Yang:It’s like two buttons.

Weiss:Gas stove, and six years out of date.

Yang:Awww, you had to learn the hard way. I’m surprised and thankful you never left the gas on.

Weiss:There’s an alarm for that. Also I’m not irresponsible! Anyways, I mentioned similar tournaments earlier. I didn’t participate much but enough old videos of me in them were enough for to really light a fire under my kids. For awhile I was a bit concerned that they were just following a trend but they really love it. They used to always go around playing like knights when they were tiny.

Ruby:Carmine was a little different. She definitely always tried doing things I could but nothing got the girl jumping like seeing Yang’s horses or new ballet shoes. There wasn’t a morning when I didn’t hear a vase fall over or seeing her spin like a top. Carmine still hums some old routines when she isn’t paying attention.

Yang:Not too many memories of Yujin when she was pint size. But I do remember that wild child always loved using my bandannas for everything! Napkins, capes, ropes; anything but an actual bandanna. I used to get a bit upset with the napkin one but she’d always look at me with her big eyes and crazy hair. I never stayed mad.

Weiss:Softie.

Yang:She was like a pudgy puff ball! Fat cheeks and wholesome smiles. Ah! So adorable!

Weiss:I used to always have at least one of my kids on my hip when I was out and about. I think the media has a magazine amount of pictures of me at the park kissing my babies. Summer liked tummy rubs. She’d never go to sleep without one. Some nights I’d sing too but start to doze off so Jaune would have to take over.

Yang:*smiles* Speaking of Jaune.....

Ruby:No.

Yang:You don’t even know what I was-

Ruby:Were you about to suggest we compare our Jaune’s in the bedroom?

Yang:*red*......Well not just the bedroom! What’s the harm!? I just wanna know if he’s consistent across the board. No need to get detailed.

Weiss:You really never change no matter the world.

Yang:Can’t change greatness. It shows in any form!

Blake:He’s pretty compliant and accommodating. The benefits of being his first when I had prior knowledge I suppose.

Ruby:Don’t answer!

Blake:Why not? I’m comfortable with it.

Yang:Don’t listen to those two Blake. They’re just a bit more embarrassed since Jaune has literally been their one and only.

Blake:Huh, I never thought about it like that. Jaune would’ve been the first person you two opened up to on such a level; especially Weiss.

Yang:That’s still hilarious. All the protesting and somehow you found yourself stripping for the guy.

Weiss:Shut up! I already know! It was....I.... *blushing* emotions ran really high.

Ruby:An entire mental rollercoaster of thoughts and firsts happening all at once. Anxiety was high.

Yang:Heh, so you could say that Jaune Arc-

RW:Got through our walls. Hardy har har.

Yang:Shit, I am the same in every universe. Well I don’t have any reservations about it! *grinning* He makes me feel special every time!

Blake:Bottom.

Yang:I’m ignoring you.🎶

Ruby:Hehe, sounds about right. He...might make me feel a bit special as well.

Blake:Switch.

Ruby:How can you just guess off of that!?

Blake:It’s a gift.

Weiss:......

Blake:*smiling*

Weiss:Leave me alone.

Blake:I don’t know what has you embarrassed. You told us you’ve slept with everyone here except Ruby! I knew you were repressed but geez.

Weiss:For your information it wasn’t my idea! It was yours!

Blake:Not surprising. Let’s switch the topic. How is this other child of mine? Can’t picture me having a daughter.

Weiss:Veronica is very sensitive. Even if she tries to act like she isn’t. One time when she was tiny, a soccer ball hit her straight in the face and she sprung up saying “I’m fine!” Then you took her behind the bleachers to patch her up; tears all on her face. It both breaks my heart and very adorable to see her act fine while her ears are folded back.

Ruby:Your other son Kovu was a bit of cry baby. Partly my fault. Carmine kept beating him up and making fun of him.

Blake:What!?

Yang:Ha! Wait, that’s my kid too. How the heck!? Are you telling me you raised the rowdy child and I got the baby?

Ruby:Yang you’re a baby. I’m like twice as rowdy compared to you. A nevermore got worked day one at school.

Weiss:She has a point. You cry the most out of any of us.

Yang:Wha- that not- how....shut up! *pouts* I’m not that touchy.

Ruby:Kovu is a sweetie and not a cry baby. Carmine is just a little mean when she tries to care about others. She beat him up in an attempt to make Kovu give up dreaming about being a huntsman. That way he wouldn’t be in such a dangerous job. Reasonable logic but you know, a little over the top. Almost broke his arm. Boy did I chew her out. All it did was make him want to try harder.

Yang:Fantastic. I shouldn’t expect less from my own blood. I bet Yujin would like him. Which reminds me, anybody have kids in relationships?

RWB:We’re working on it.

The three women paused briefly before laughing at their meddling. Yang could only admire and fear her friends.

Yang:Should I be scared for your children?

Blake:Lucas needs someone to break up the routine in his life. I’m not saying he has to date her, but it would put a smile on my face.

Ruby:Carmine takes after me, not really thinking about stuff like relationships much. However, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t at all. Carmine tries her best to not act like she’s a teenaged girl with teenage wishes. But everyone sees right through it. I’m fine with her not being in one but I would like if she acknowledged that it’s okay to just....ugh, be normal! Why can nobody have normal knees in my life!?

Weiss:Nick likes Valerie who tries to deny she likes him by liking Summer, who doesn’t like her; while Veronica crushes on Nick who obviously has conflicting feelings.

RBY.....

Yang:Why is it always complicated with you?

Weiss:How is this my fau- okay it is a little bit.

Blake:Where do you stand?

Weiss:I think Valerie would be lovely for him.

Yang:What’s wrong with my baby girl!?

Blake:Yeah!?

Weiss:One, not yours. Two, have you met who I’m married to? Can’t really say he’s wasting his efforts. Though I wouldn’t be upset with Veronica. I think those two might be good for each other.

Blake:Any other bombshells people got?

Ruby:......

Ruby:Ilia is happily married.*sips coffee*

Blake:Oh that’s wonderful! I’m glad she found a loving wi-

Ruby:*smirks* To Sun.

Blake:....*stands up* I need, champagne!

A bottle of champagne poofs into existence with several glasses. Blake immediately pours everyone a glass before raising hers into the sky.

Blake:Ruby Rose, today you’ve erased guilt upon my conscious. I’m happy there’s one world where it seems all of my good exes get over me.

Ruby:Are the Ilia and Sun where you’re from miserable like Yang!?

Blake:No, but they kinda fumble in actually going for relationships. It just always makes me feel a little bad.

Yang:You can technically count two worlds. I’m fine, Ilia is dating a pretty secretary, and your one evil ex is now raising a morally good family.

Blake:You’re right! This calls for a double toast! To alternate universes! *puts glass down*

Weiss:Haha, aren’t you gonna drink it!?

Blake:No I’m still recovering; but how could I pass up the opportunity!? Man I wish I could attend that wedding! I don’t know if I’d be a bridesmaid or the best man!

Yang:You’re just gonna steal Neptune’s thunder like that?

Blake:Hey, Sun and I have taken bullets for each other and stab wounds. I think I deserve to be a little greedy and say I ride or die for that man just a little harder than Neptune.

Ruby:Geeeeeez Blake! Haha, I didn’t even tell you about the baby.

Blake:*visble excitement* Excuse me!?

RWY:*raises glass* Cheers.

Blake:CHEERS! What’s he like!?

xxxxx

Aero:AAAACHOOOO!

Carmine:Eugh! Cover your mouth! I don’t need to get sick.

Aero:Damn! What happened to uh I don’t know, “bless you!?”

Carmine:*pulls out tissues* Happy?

Aero:Where...why are those in you book bag?

Carmine:It’s flu season.

Aero:....I can’t tell if you’re the coolest person around or just a second mother.

Carmine:I can be both. My mom is arguably both but don’t tell her that. It’ll make her month and she’ll hug me too tight.

Aero:Bitch, you love hugs. Stop being difficult.

Carmine:Mmmm nah.

Aero:I feel bad for your mom.

Carmine:I feel bad for yours.

Aero:Hop off. You’re so childish.

Carmine:And yet you love me.

Aero:*red* In your dreams!

Carmine:It would make your day if I dreamed about you,wouldn’t it?

Aero:I hope you dream of spiders.

Carmine:We do not joke about that! *grabs him* Aero I will beat you up if I dream of them tonight! That’s just mean!

Aero:Stop crying ya baby. I could’ve said they were- ow!

Sun:*hitting him* Shut up and just kiss something! We’re trying to watch a game.

Aero and Carmine:We don’t like each other!

Jaune:With all do respect, that’s a lie. But please by all means Aero, continue not touching my daughter if you know what’s best for you. I don’t wanna have to fight you and your parents right afterwards.

Sun:Ilia would kill you.

Jaune:Yeah! That’s why I don’t want the fight! Much like Ruby, she’s short and terrifying. Her size holds the rage.

Ilia:*peeks in* Who’s talking shit?

JASC:Nobody, we love you!

Ilia:.....Got my eyes on you four. *holds Garnet up* and this one; the most well behaved in this bunch even with no nap.

Garnet:*fussy grumbling* I’m a ball of rage!

Ilia:You wanna nap?

Garnet:Yes!!!

Ilia:See, behaved. *walks away* don’t make me come back out here.

Carmine:....So do you like me because your mother is also imposing?

Aero:This is it, my evil origin story. It begins today.

xxxxx

Ruby:I admire his patience.

#rwby #the void #jaune arc #ruby rose #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #carmine arc rose #aero amitola #ilia amitola #sun wukong #rwby ships #rwby lancaster #rwby whiteknight #rwby dragonslayer #rwby knightshade

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spencerspecifics · 3 years

Text

This is chapter two to that fic I posted a few months ago! I'm calling this fic "Technical Analyst". Enjoy :)

Technical Analyst (ch.2)

Chapter one here

———————————————————————

Derek started his search for more information at the beginning, the FBI database. He knew Spencer’s first and last name, plus his old division, he should be able to find it easily.

And he did, it wasn’t a lot of information, though. All Spencer’s personal information was blacked out, only could be opened by a unit chief or anyone else higher up. Which meant he’d have to go crawling back to Hotch to learn anything about the guy.

Damn, he was almost back at the start of his search, knowing nothing. But he wasn’t, he still had a bit of information on Reid, but not a lot, not enough. So he read all he could on the guy.

He’s a doctor, but in what, medical training? That seemed like the most reasonable answer, but if that’s the case- what’s a medical professional doing working on their computers? Derek wanted to learn more about that.

Past that, all Derek could see about him was his previous work in domestic terrorism. And he had an okay record. The chief unit agent had a few notes about him on the reports from their cases, such as; “While Dr. Spencer Reid is a bright individual, we found the information he does hold to not always be the most helpful. With that being said, we’ve set him on the research end of our work, to help him learn more and to help our field agents stay focused.” “Dr. Spencer Reid is an amazing researcher for the domestic terrorism unit, but he doesn’t socialize strongly with the rest of the group.” “Dr. Spencer Reid seems more interested in the scientific behavioral aspects of why our unsub’s do what they do, while that is helpful for de-escalation when we encounter our unsub’s, (which our other agents take care of, as Dr. Spencer Reid isn’t in the field much.) it is not necessary, as he is not a profiler, even though he has trained with SSA Jason Gideon. We have now set him on research full time.”

Derek kept scrolling, similar notes kept showing up, Dr. Spencer Reid was smart- but not always conventially, he was specifically interested in behavioral studies- so why wasn’t he with Garcia? Or on the field with the BAU? Not to mention he had trained with Jason Gideon, one of the BAU’s best agents. Morgan had only met Gideon briefly before he retired, and since then he hadn’t heard much of the guy (except for what Rossi would say once and a while.)

Derek had enough bread crumbs about the genius to put his next move together, he was going to ask the genius about his favorite behavioral cases (if he had looked over any, which Derek had a feeling he had). He was also going to try and apologize, Derek didn’t know if he upset the guy about the domestic terrorism unit question, but it was just plain curiosity. He wasn’t trying to upset or offend, he was just curious. He had no open cases, after all, what was he supposed to do? Finish logging his cases like a normal person? No, and he had already had that done (the last thing he had needed was Spencer putting them through VICAP, which he did at that insane speed of an hour). So Derek was making work for himself, investigating this genius he had never heard of before.

Spencer had made it back to his way too small office, practically shaking from an overwhelming feeling that he couldn’t pinpoint as he did his best to shut the door behind him (which sadly took a few tries, as his hands were shaking a bit too much for him to get a hold on the handle. He ended up pushing the door shut with the toe of his shoe instead).

Was it anxiety? Stress? Anger? He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t angry at anyone, more at the bureau as a whole. He was mad he was demoted, but he had been living with that for six months now, the time frame for being reasonably mad had long been over by now.

But as soon as Derek had asked him why he was out of domestic terrorism, something flipped inside Spencer’s head. He never had to explain why he left before. Not to his mom in his letters to her, he just told her he was transferring to a different unit- to which she said that was good, and the less scary work he had to do was better for him (and for her piece of mind).

And when he had met Garcia, he didn’t have to explain himself, she never really asked. Hotchner or Strauss must’ve told her in advance why Spencer was now going to work alongside her and Kevin, but she kept her curiosities surrounding Spencer’s career path to herself. Kevin was the same as Garcia in that regard, he never asked. And Spencer wasn’t that close to Kevin, anyways. All their conversations revolved around computer work, or the occasional conversation about Doctor Who. But that was it, it never got personal.

Point is, Reid never had to explain to anyone why he was out of domestic terrorism. No one asked, no one dug deep. No one was curious. And Spencer couldn’t just answer Derek by saying; “They kicked me out because I didn’t click, I didn’t have any field hours. And because I wasn’t important enough to them to be saved. They let me go, budget cuts.” No, Spencer couldn’t say that.

It’s not that Spencer couldn’t admit defeat. He could, it’s just in this case, these people didn’t need to know about his defeats. He was working with them for a week. A week, that’s all. He didn’t want to tell them his life story, he didn’t want to tell them all the bad parts about his life. He didn’t want them to know about his failures, especially this one. It embarrassed him. The less the BAU agents knew about him, the better, in his opinion.

Spencer was standing in his office, still having not moved from where he pushed the door shut after he had entered. He just needed a second, he was still slightly shaking.

Maybe he should start seeing a therapist again. But maybe not, it’s not like he was having an attack of any kind. He was just overwhelmed. The thought of explaining why he left domestic terrorism was too much, the anxiety behind the explanation, then the embarrassment, not to mention his anger towards the bureau, and the stupid stress he felt of his daily job of being a glorified IT worker- it was just too much.

Spencer took a deep breath in. The shaking was slowing down ever so slightly, a good sign. He stepped towards his desk chair, sitting down while he kept trying to slow his breathing. God, he felt pitiful. He was shaking over having to explain himself, and while his reasoning was valid for not wanting to explain- this response his body was doing was not normal.

Spencer just kept breathing, counting off the digits of pi he could remember as he went. Numbers always helped him clear his head.

Spencer had continued counting, all the way to the forty-seventh digit of pi, before he fully felt calm again. Good, he breathed a sigh of relief as he tapped back onto his computers.

Now, hopefully, he could get some work done.

And Spencer did, he was able to help transfer a bunch of completed cases to Strauss, before another knock at his office door pulled him out of his work pace.

“Yes?” He said, turning around in his chair once again to see who was at the door. This time, it was Kevin who pushed the door open slowly as he entered, stepping in a bit to the room, but leaving the door open. “Hey, how’s your first day with the BAU going?” He asked curiously, just making small talk. He was probably trying to get out of work he was being told to do, either that or he was on break and bored.

“It, uh, it’s going okay. Nothing’s happened, really. I met agent Prentiss and agent Morgan.” He told Kevin casually as he turned back to his computer to finish logging in the files information, he knew Kevin wouldn’t mind if he turned away to do work while they talked. Kevin knew he was good at multitasking.

“Oh dude, Morgan-“ Kevin groaned, shutting the door behind him quickly as he entered the room to lean against Spencer’s desk, so Spencer could keep working and see Kevin. “Garcia loves him, and he’s a nice guy. But should I be jealous?”

Spencer wasn’t good in this conversational aspect. Ask him what the most poisonous frog in North America is, and he could answer you no problem (it’s the poisonous dart frog, no surprise there.) but this? Spencer couldn’t navigate this. So he took Kevin’s question scientifically.

“...I don’t think so. Garcia is a good person, she wouldn’t ever intentionally hurt someone. Especially you.” Spencer answered after a moment of thinking, turning to look at Kevin to gauge his reaction, “Right,” Kevin nodded in agreement, as that answer did make sense to him, “But should I-“ Kevin started, then stopped himself quickly.

He smiled down at Spencer sheepishly, “Sorry. I know you aren’t a therapist, my bad, man.” He apologized simply, Spencer just gave him a polite small smile in return, it’s all he could muster. “How did the meeting with IT go?” Reid asked, changing conversation topics easily.

“Stupid. I know how to fix my keyboard, so does anyone else here with basic understanding of computers. I bet the janitors could do it.” That elicited a small laugh from Spencer in return, as it was true. Fixing a keyboard definitely wasn’t complicated. It was just stupid nonsense that Kevin had to talk to IT, but that’s what they dealt with, day in and day out.

Kevin left quickly after that, he had just been on break, and before Spencer knew it kevin had to go running off to the child abduction unit to help them with their computers.

Though Derek had devised a plan on what he was going to say to spencer, he still had no clue how he should go back to the genius and start the conversation. He had no work related reason to go back, all of the files that needed to go through VICAP were sent.

Maybe Derek should get a paper cut, ask for the doctors help? No, a paper cut doesn’t require a doctors expertise. Not to mention he wasn’t even sure if Spencer was a medical doctor.

So Derek was stuck, looking over files at his desk that he most definitely was done with, as he messed with pens on his desk absentmindedly.

Emily noticed his mood shift into restless boredom pretty quickly, but she had her own work to do, too. So as she watched him tap away on his desk, she was doing her best to work. She had to get these cases filed correctly, after all.

Her urge to stay focused on work didn’t last long, though. Derek’s mood was just too much to not pay attention to, she would rather talk to him than do file work, anyways.

“Okay- what’s wrong with you? Drink too much coffee?” She asked him as she set down her case file onto her desk, Derek stopped tapping his pen to make eye contact with her. “Hm?” He asked simply, he hadn’t heard her, he was absorbed with thinking of what to do to get to Spencer and talk to him.

“I said,” Prentiss said, as she leaned forward a bit in her chair, “What’s with you?” Yeah, she was totally more interested in bugging Morgan than doing her cases. Derek just shrugged, he wasn’t about to tell her what he was actually thinking. That would just make her even more sure that Derek thought Spencer was cute, which wasn’t the case. He just was curious about the guy, and now he had struck a nerve in spencer, so he had to make it right and apologize. It was a normal thought process to have, but he knew Prentiss wouldn’t see it that way.

“Nothing,” Derek lied easily, gesturing to his finished case files as he spoke, “It’s just.. finished all my cases, and I can’t leave yet. So, I’m bored.”

Emily took his answer and nodded, “Wanna do mine?” She joked with him, gesturing to the short stack she had on her desk. Derek chuckled in response, shaking his head slowly.

“I don’t know ‘bout all of that.” He said, the stack, though short, had at least fifteen files, and as much Derek was bored (which was true, he was just stuck thinking.) he wasn’t bored enough to warrant work.

“Aw, c’mon, help a girl out. Here.” Prentiss said, grabbing a few off the top and passing them across her desk to his, setting them on the edge of his desk. “Just do these for me, please.”

Derek nodded, giving in. “Okay, sure. What’s left on these to do?” “I don’t think much, just finish filling out the descriptions on how we profiled the unsub, then get them into VICAP for me.” Emily specified, looking back to the rest of the stack of files.

VICAP. Derek couldn’t get them into VICAP, he didn’t know VICAP well enough. But Spencer did, and it wouldn’t take Spencer long. Perfect. He now had an excuse to get back to Spencer and talk to him more.

Derek just nodded, even though a small amount of excitedeness was now growing inside of him. Because now he had an excuse to keep talking to this mysterious genius.

“Yeah, I can do that.” He told Prentiss simply, she gave him a smile in return, along with a “thanks”, before turning back to the file she had sat down on her desk originally in favor of talking to Derek.

Now, all Derek had to do was fill these cases out. Easy.

And it was easy, as expected. Derek got them filled out no problem, writing the profile explanation had been something he’d been doing for years.

And it was always easy for him to do, it was just explaining the order of events- from ‘we spoke to local law enforcement’ to ‘we surveyed the area the victim was found in’ to ‘we looked at recovered evidence at the scene’, all the way to the end goal which usually was something like; ‘we figured our unsub was most likely a male in his 30’s with a menial part time job and bad temper’.

It was that, rinse and repeat. Except of course, every case was different. But the bullet points were all oddly similar.

But still, it didn’t matter. Derek had a reason to go back to Spencer now, to apologize, say “sorry I struck a nerve, doc.” And he wanted to. After all, he didn’t wanna piss off the computer genius the BAU was employing for this week.

So, Derek finished the case files as quickly as he could humanly manage, before making his way out of the bullpen. Thankfully Prentiss wasn’t there to ask him where he was going, as she was in a meeting with Hotchner. And double bonus, J.J. and Rossi were both at some profiling seminar for today. So the bullpen was practically empty. It was beautiful.

So, Derek made his way out of the glass doors, down the hall, back to Spencer’s office. He hoped to redeem himself of his earlier fuck up.

Spencer had his soundproof headphones on, totally oblivious to the outside world. After all, he had finished all his work for the day, now he just got to read, just as he had hoped for. So while Bach played through his headphones, his mind was focused on the thick Russian translation copy of the crucible. He was excited to see how Russian people viewed such an American phenomenon of the Salem Witch Trials.

He was ecstatic to say the least, translating the Russian letters to English in his head at lightning speed while he kept reading along. It was only when he was tapped on the shoulder that he got pulled out of his methodical pace. He pulled off his headphones as fast as humanly possible, turning around in time to see agent Derek Morgan back in his office. Crap.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt-“ Derek started, gesturing at the thick book in Spencer’s hands. “Oh- um, you’re fine. Sorry.” Spencer spoke quickly as he set the book down on his desk, leaving his headphones wrapped around his neck awkwardly, Bach’s light piano melodies could be heard very softly.

“What’re you reading?” Morgan asked Spencer politely, “The Russian translation of The Crucible. I’ve already read The Crucible, but knowing the Russian word choices and ways they choose to phrase such a strictly American experience is something fascinating to me, I notice that their word choices often-“ Spencer started on a tangent, only stopping when he looked up to see Derek’s face in the classic stare many people gave Spencer over his lifetime. A mixture of ‘slow down’ and ‘what the hell’ and ‘all I did was ask a question, I didn’t wanna hear him rant’.

Spencer slowed himself down, “Sorry. Uh-“ he looked down at Morgan’s hands, there were files. Perfect. “Have work for me?” Spencer asked politely, Reid’s swift change in conversation seemed to surprise Derek as he gave him a perplexed look.

“Uh, yeah- these just have to go into VICAP.” He said as he handed them over to Spencer. There were only four this time, Spencer could probably finish these in fourty five minutes, an hour tops. That meant Spencer would still have plenty of time to read, perfect.

“Okay, I can do that.” Spencer nodded as he took the files from Derek’s now outstretched arm. Derek let his arm fall back to his side once Spencer had taken the files and set them on his desk, next to his now empty coffee thermos and computer mouse.

“Hey- I also just wanted to say sorry about asking about your work in domestic terrorism earlier. Wasn’t my place to ask.” Derek spoke up awkwardly, after Spencer had started to look over the files. Spencer looked back up at Morgan when he said that, though. He wasn’t sure how to respond.

He never had to explain himself before, and now someone was apologizing to him. Normally, people wouldn’t. What was Spencer supposed to do now? He hadn’t ever been in a situation like this before. He felt like his IQ was going back down drastically, and not just because Derek was an attractive male, standing in Spencer’s office, wearing a short sleeved t-shirt that showed off his muscles in a way no one should ever show them off.

Well, it was partly that. But Spencer was doing his best to ignore that part of his brain. But now his entire brain was in the pitfall. Not sure what to do.

So Spencer muttered a ‘thank you’ and nodded quickly, pulling eyes back down to the files and not on agent Derek Morgan, because Spencer didn’t know what to do.

They were stuck in an awkward silence, for what felt like forever. But Derek didn’t want to leave it his way, that’s the last thing he wanted. After all, Spencer was a friend of Garcia’s, which makes them acquaintances by default. Plus, this guy was gonna be running the computer tech side for the next week or so of the BAU. He couldn’t make it awkward, what if a case happened and they had to go out there and work together?

Derek was overthinking this, but only because he cares so much about Garcia. That was his reasoning on why. Not like his reasoning mattered, though. He still hadn’t said anything to Spencer past the awkward apology. He had to say something new, now. Either that, or he should just tuck tail and leave Dr. Spencer Reid’s office that was the size of a walk in closet.

Derek wasn’t about to dip out, though. So he spoke. “I saw in your file that you worked with agent Jason Gideon, what was he like?”

Spencer’s eyes went back up to Morgan’s again. “He taught me a lot, he’s very simple and to the point. I thought you knew him- since you’re on the BAU?” Spencer responded to Derek’s question with a question.

Derek shrugged as he made himself more comfortable, leaning up against the file cabinet that was behind him. He was hoping to stay for a while and talk, and it seemed he was getting that. Spencer watched him as he did so, “I only met him once before he retired, I’m more familiar with Rossi and Hotch.” He spoke in return.

“I’ve read Rossi’s books, they’re phenomenal. I’ve wanted to approach him and talk about his work on some of the cases he’s done- but I never get the opportunity to.”

“You’re working with the entire BAU, you’ve got the opportunity now. You realize that, right?” Derek asked Spencer curiously. Spencer nodded, “I do. But I checked his schedule, he’s at a seminar right now:”

Derek chuckled, he didn’t know Spencer well enough to make presumptions about the guy, and he had agreed with the BAU a long time ago not to profile each other- and by that logic, he had also agreed not to profile Spencer. Not that he’d want to, though. That’s just not fair.

But oddly, Spencer checking Rossi’s schedule sounded like something this guy would do. He’s too smart to be working as a technical analyst in a small ass office. Derek still wanted to ask him so badly ‘why are you here?’. But he knew he shouldn’t. So he redirected the conversation again; “What’s some of your favorite behavioral cases?”

Spencer hadn’t meant to keep Morgan in his office for over an hour, explaining in depth about his favorite behavioral cases. It just happened on accident.

Usually Spencer stopped himself when he rambled, but Derek didn’t seem to mind. And once Spencer started talking, it was near impossible to stop. It was only when Prentiss knocked on the office door, peeking her head inside- did Spencer realize how much time he had taken away from Derek.

“Hey, I was looking for you, Morgan. You finish those files?” She asked him innocently, “I did, just getting our new tech analyst to put them in for me.” He responded easily, Spencer looked back down at the case files. Yeah, he needed to do them.

“I’ll get started on them now,” Spencer nodded, “Sorry.” He told Derek after Prentiss had left, leaving the office door cracked open.

“No worries. I enjoyed talking to you. Hope we do more work together.” Derek told him with a small smile. Crap, Spencer didn’t like this guy one bit. He was too nice, too handsome, too charming. This was a dumpster fire of a situation.

Thankfully, this seemed to be the end of it, at least for now. These were Prentiss’ files. He could finish these and leave them on her desk. No more interaction with Derek Morgan, which is definitely what Spencer needed.

“I’ll see you, doc. Thanks again.” Derek told him, that smile still on his face as he exited, shutting the door behind him. Spencer didn’t respond as Morgan left, he was just feeling his face blushing red, goddamnit. He was going to curse at Penelope garcia for having such an attractive best friend. This just wasn’t fair. This was going to be a problem, a nagging, buzzing fly around Spencer’s mind until the week was over.

Thankfully this was just a week long ordeal. Spencer could handle that. He wouldn’t know what to do if he was a permanent worker on the BAU.

Reid brought himself back to focus, working on the files. Which he did at record speed, like always.

“Dude, I was looking for you for like- an hour. Were you with the doctor the entire time?” Prentiss asked Derek curiously as soon as he sat down in his desk chair again.

Morgan shrugged, “I gave him your files, we were just talking.”

“For an hour? About what?” Prentiss asked him, surprised because Derek wasn’t that big on long conversations.

“Spencer used to work with agent Gideon. He told me about that.” “No shit, really? That’s cool.” Prentiss muttered, definitely a tinge of jealously in her voice, “I’m gonna ask him for whatever tips Gideon taught him.”

“Maybe I know those tips.” Derek joked, wagging his eyebrows up and down as a way to piss emily off. She rolled her eyes at him, “No way you remember all he said. You were probably too busy staring at his face.”

“For the last time, he isn’t cute.” “Uh, yes he is.” Prentiss scoffed at Derek for such a weak rebuttal. Now it was Morgan’s turn to roll his eyes, “I’m done talking to you. I got your files done, Prentiss.”

Now, emily was sarcastic; “Oh and thank god you did four of my fifteen files. I never would’ve finished without you- seriously, thank you so much Morgan.”

Derek just continued rolling his eyes, deciding to roll around in his office chair to face the other way, facing his filing cabinent. “What’re you even doing?” Prentiss asked him, “Ignoring you.” He replied easily, eliciting a giggle from Prentiss, before hearing her reply; “Whatever man.”

———————————————————————

taglist: so far just @electricsockhead bc they commented a while back they wanted to know of any more chapters coming out. If you want to be on my taglist send me a message :)

#fanfic #fic #writing #Dr. Spencer Reid #Moreid #Derek Morgan #criminal minds #cm #BAU #Emily Prentiss #Aaron Hotchner #jennifer jareau #Penelope Garcia #angst #Spencer Specific Fics #Spencer Reid #criminal minds fanfiction #this is for the anon who asked abt this fic #I see u bb

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houseisekai · 2 years

Text

Members I originally had planned to star in for a House Isekai sequel

I'm sure I've mentioned it plenty of times that I originally planned for this series to end at Shadowbringers, until I saw people wanted it to to continue.

I pulled A Realm Reborn out my ass essentially (Which should be obvious by how slow the series started), but now the plot is mostly ironed out, all that matters is the details in the way!

Without spoilers, after ARR, I have one last major arc planned for this series:

House Isekai: Heavensward

That will be the final adventure, one I plan to get to by the end of the year, that I promise!

So I wanted to share to you all the people I had planned for a House Isekai sequel, underneath the cut for anyone who wants to know!

Also a bonus segment on the Garreg Mach Students on why/how I created them!

Potential Members that didn't make the cut

The original House Isekai was going to, believe it or not, have even MORE members due to my insatiable lust for writing for things long past dead or obscure.

As a reminder, the original House includes:

Persona 3/4/5

Trails of Cold Steel

OVERLORD

Konosuba

DOOM

School-Live! (Gakkou Gurashi)

Fire Emblem: Three Houses

Which was a SHIT ton of people to keep track of because I'm an idiot who doesn't understand small casts.

I was going to MAYBE bring them into the New House Isekai, but decided against it, wanting to replicate what Cold Steel 3 did and focus on a smaller cast so screentime is less hellish to divy out (which I have NOT been doing a good job of)

And so here was the first team I scrapped:

Delta Squad from Star Wars: Republic Commando Sev, Boss, Scorch, Fixer

These guys were originally supposed to take the place of the ODST's, and to have a Star Wars: The Clone Wars rep in after that mini-AU that included them.

Sev was the sniper who enjoyed killing his targets a LOT and had a lot of sass.

Scorch was the wise-ass and demolitions expert of the group.

Boss was the no-nonsense leader who kept his team on track.

Fixer was the by the books technician of the team.

I decided against them since I wanted someone a bit more down to earth, and since I wanted someone less super soldiery, Raelyn excluded.

The Survey Corps from Attack on Titan Levi, Hanji, Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Historia, Ymir, Bertholdt, Reiner

I've always loved the cast of AOT and originally wanted them in for the new House Isekai.

BUT the biggest problem as you can read from that list of names was incorporating THAT many people into a story/setting like House Isekai.

Worst yet, giving ALL of them the equal screen time treatment woukd;ve been an absolute nightmare. If I had to narrow it down, I know for a fact I'd want Hanji, Levi, Eren, Mikasa, and Armin. Part of me kinda regrets not doing so but I'm getting some mileage out of the AOT Joke AU.

Plus, Doctor Valda is actually inspired 25% by Hanji, so I have that at least.

Class 3-E from Assassination Classroom Nagisa, Karma, Ritsu, Irina, Karasuma, Koro-sensei

This might blindside a few people since I've given almost 0 indications I've watched this show, but it was one of the first anime I've watched when I was getting back into the genre. (the series released 2013 almost a decade ago, holy SHIT)

But they were among the first ones I was considering bringing into the series.

As hilarious as it would've been to bring them in, I decided against it due to the unusual circumstances they're in, trying to constantly kill him, and it'd also fuck with the whole deadline of Koro-Sensei's plan to blow up the Earth.

At the time I also ruled that even they were training to be assassins, it was only super specific to Koro-Sensei, they couldn't fit in due to how much combat they'd be in.

...And it's only now I remember that the School-Living Club and Megu-nee existed in the original team.

Plus, seeing Koro-Sensei, Irina, and Karasuma get along with the old staff would've been amazing, a decision I'm kicking myself for even now.

Mukuro Ikusaba from Danganronpa (Specifically from Danganronpa IF, a What If? story where Mukuro survived and stopped Junko's plans)

I think some of you might remember she was in the list of candidates to bring along into the new story, which is where Raelyn was also.

Her purpose in the story was to be two-fold: to hearken back and pay my due respects to the very series of why I exist on Tumblr today with the writing skills I have now, and to bring even more character to her by protecting Hope in another world.

Plus as a soldier on par with some of the best combatants of House Isekai, I bet she would've had a lot of fun interactions with the new class.

Skill level I'd say she would be on par with Duvalie, Sharon, and Sara, the best of Class VII, but emotionally, thanks to Makoto's help, is near awkwardness of Naoto or Fie.

In the end, I decided against bringing her since I wanted the newcomers to mostly have stuck with series been in House Isekai before, such as Warhammer 40k and Red vs Blue (which includes the Halo series).

Though in all honesty, I kinda wanted an excuse to write Mukuro again. I miss her.

Guts and Puck from Berserk (Conviction Arc to be specific)

Guts is one of my favorite characters in fiction period.

Berserk was one of the major contributors of how and why I write, especially when it comes to Characterization. So having him in something I write, especially the action, would not only be a dream come true, but as the ultimate tribute to Miura.

Puck's inclusion would be comic relief, but also to level Guts back to earth when he needs it most. I would've included the Conviction Arc versions of them since that's when Guts cools it with being the edgiest son of a bitch in Midland.

However I couldn't really justify bringing them in. I respect Miura and his work so much that even doing fanfic with Guts is, in my head, doing a massive disservice to his legacy, one I am not worthy enough to include him in.

And so he was considered, then quickly dismissed, entirely out of respect for the series, otherwise I would've loved to have him stand in Raelyn's place, as the stalwart tank/protector/damage dealer of the group, but one of the most human groups there.

Also he would've fucking obliterated Nazarick if left alone too long with them.

Yuki Takeya from School-Live! (Gakkou Gurashi)

I know she's in Part 9 but I meant more as a main staff character like Rean, Kazuma, Towa, and Aigis

In all honesty I wanted Yuki REALLY bad, not just to take the place of a non-combat instructor, but to show just how far she's come since her original series/House Isekai, making Megu-nee proud.

Yuki was originally supposed to be one of the main returning staff, but I decided against it solely because getting transparent images of her was a pain in the ass compared to the other 4.

...Yeah, that was the only reason. A bit stupid in hindsight huh?

========

Background info on the Garreg Mach Students

I've mentioned before that Kairos, Astrid, Elizabeth, Helena, and Stefan were OC's of mine specifically created for Three Houses.

But their date of their creation was much MUCH longer ago, back around in 2019 when FE3H released...I think it was 2019 anyway.

I'll go in order of what dates they were created and more info on em and whatnot

If you remember Chrissy (aka @strawberrybrainrot), a VERY prominent FE3H writer back in the day, we both joined an OC dedicated server, which is when Kairos came into existence.

Kairos, alongside Elizabeth and Astrid were the only ones who needed little to no retconning.

He even has a timeskip designed, one which we will unfortunately not see.

As you can tell from his personality, his main influences come from Machias of Class VII, a Noble-Hating commoner. His first name came from a Warhammer character, Kairos Fateweaver, and his last name I just google searched.

He's honestly one of my fav characters I made cause of his personality standing out so aggressively from everyone else with that pole up his ass, which I intentionally stuffed in there.

But during the timeskip, he becomes far more gentle in his demeanour, and regrets all the times he was being such a dick, and tries to isolate himself from the group due to that guilt.

Fun fact about Kairos: since I was his creator in that server, and they all knew I thirsted over Ingrid, I specifically made his "canon" S-Support Hilda to spite everyone, and nothing else.

Then, really thinking about it, I actually grew to like the ship.

I have a fully written Hilda and Kairos support if anyone's even interested, just ask.

Stefan has one of the biggest retcons of ALL my oc's.

He originally always wore a helmet when talking to people cause of his shyness, which obviously he doesn't do in HI:ARR, but I decided to not write that cause it felt gimmicky.

His name was, as you can see, originally Elliot since during that time writing, House Isekai didn't exist, I was still writing solely FE3H, and no one knew what Trails of Cold Steel was, so I could get away with the name.

Though his personality mostly stayed intact, a very very kind and gentle person with a tendency to be oblivious as hell. The retcon for this part, is well ya know, the levels of secrecy he's in for ARR. I'd go into more detail, but obviously spoilers.

Yeah as you can see, Helena was also inspired by Cold Steel. Which explains why she has almost the exact personality of Fie.

Funnily enough, the only thing that I changed about her was her name. Her origins/mannerisms is all 100% from the original source.

Her timeskip design I like a lot honestly.

Sometimes when I'm writing her for House Isekai, I have to correct myself because I type her name as Fie.

Helena I wanted as a good foil to everyone, Elizabeth's politeness, Kairos's hostility, Stefan's trusting nature, and Astrid's friendliness.

I need to write her with Kazuma more often...

Elizabeth, alongside Kairos, is one of the ones I barely had to touch.

Her existence actually predates the Ashen Wolves. I remember my thought process I wanted a female noble combining Ferdinand and Lorenz and wanted her insufferable as possible.

The reason for her eyepatch in the timeskip comes from protecting her father from an attempted assassination.

And as you can see in the wardrobe change, she has a more refined manner in the timeskip.

The only real retcon for House Isekai is that she doesn't ride a horse during battle despite the character bio saying she's the most proficient at it.

And that only came as a result of me forgetting to write it lmao.

Other than that, Elizabeth is the most intact character besides Astrid. Speaking of which

Astrid came about because I wanted a combination of Ingrid and Leonie, without the bitchiness, racism, and dad-fucking of the two.

She also stands out as the most "normal" one of the group, which might explain why you all seem to like her the most. I felt like she had no purpose other than to satisfy that quota until House Isekai.

In the FE3H timeline, she was supposed to become a Knight of Seiros.

For HI:ARR, obviously that's not an option for her anymore, but let's just say I have something planned for her, alongside the other 4 members.

The reason why I have such jarring artstyle's for them was because I used piccrew. I wanted them all to be uniform, but didn't want same face syndrome, it was a bitch and a half to make Kairos and Stefan look different enough.

One day I plan to draw all of them together with the same art style.

====

And that's it for now, if you want me to do more stuff behind the scenes of the thought process like the plot or reasoning of including certain characters/plotlines, lemme know and I'd love to answer in depth like this again!

#chris's thoughts #House Isekai

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paper-n-ashes · 3 years

Text

sparks and embers - chapter 3

Characters: Poe Dameron x Original Female Character, Kylo Ren x Original Female Character

Story Tags: Explicit (18+), Canon Compliant/Divergent (Set after TLJ), First Person POV, Love Triangle, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Porn with Plot, Hurt/Comfort, Kylo Ren hates Poe Dameron

Chapter 3 - The Return

Words: 4k

Chapter Tags/Warnings: medical descriptions and procedures, some sexual themes - mainly in the form of OC being thirsty AF

Read on AO3 or Start from the beginning

On the way back from the East village, filled with the Gossams, humans and other alien species who had similarly escaped to a simpler life, I couldn’t help but curse at myself for giving in so easily to the pleas of a good-looking stranger.

Aiding someone merely for their physical appearance? How horribly unprofessional.

The voice in the back of my mind was loud. And curiously judgemental.

It had been over a full day cycle since I’d departed the clinic, making Poe vow to remain within the confines of his bed until I had returned. I’d left him with enough food for two days of my travelling, hygiene supplies, a drip running slowly for some pain relief and range of tools for him to attempt getting BB-8 up and running, hoping he wouldn’t have any reason to struggle getting out of bed.

The thought of his still fragile femur bone breaking and splitting the artery I’d spent all my energy on mending was beyond frightening. I worried about him every minute I was awake, imagining any number of complications that would leave me a corpse to find when I arrived back.

Bleeding, clots, stroke, infection, sepsis.

It wasn’t easy to slip those thoughts from my mind in the lone starkness of the Raxus countryside. There wasn’t really anything to look at except grass and sky, nothing to distract me from the worst case scenarios.

I’d convinced some of my old patients to join my cause, promising them better medicine and equipment if I was only able to have a comm-tower to order everything I needed. It didn’t seem like lying. The comm-tower really was my only link to the rest of the galaxy, and I would have needed it fixed anyway. Only now, time seemed to be more of the essence.

After spending the night amongst the locals I had grown to be familiar with over the last few years, I’d begun the trek back with the knowledge at least one problem had been solved. Some promised spare parts, others were going to follow my path within the next day cycle to get my comm-link back online. I hadn’t divulged all the story, at least not the part about this repair job apparently being a determining factor in the fate of the galaxy.

I hadn’t pressed Poe about what that meant exactly. I was used to the Resistance and their soldiers having somewhat of a flair for the dramatic when it came to war, after healing many of their battle wounds in years past. I knew how fervently they believed in their cause - that they were the only thing standing between galaxy wide harmony and First Order dictatorship.

I understood their hope of peace in our lifetime, but I’d lost mine a long time ago. Good, bad, they were just two sides of a coin that would flip for eternity, desperately chasing power for their own reasons.

In truth, I didn’t particularly care. I just hoped to live my life somewhat free from the burden of picking a side.

Before unlocking the clinic door, my feet aching from hiking for 6 straight hours, I drew in a long breath with a silent prayer I wouldn’t be walking in to find a dead body. With a fluid motion I turned the handle and pushed the door open, my head popping in first around the entryway to where Poe’s hospital bed stood. He immediately heard the latch clicking and shot his head up to meet with my eyes.

“You’re back,” he smiled, as I noted how much colour had returned to his face during my absence.

He looked so much better.

For the first time, I found myself studying his face, my stare tracing from his strong angular jawline to his high cheekbones, the prominence of his nose, the whiskey colour of his large cheerful eyes, his tousled deep brown hair. Then I took in his wide grin, shapely pink lips curled upwards to show perfectly set white teeth.

Stars, he’s so handsome.

In the muddle of memories I’d conceived from the night of his crash I’d not recognised, at least not during the time I was struggling to keep him alive, how attractive he was. And now with his health a far better picture than the last time I’d seen him, it was all I could notice. My heart quivered through a beat as he beamed at me, soon realising his smile was more a reflection of the prospective good news I brought with my return, making it settle back into a normal rhythm.

“Hi,” I breathed, walking closer and setting my pack down at the foot of the hospital bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he answered, “The smaller burns are almost gone, and my chest wound is closed, look!” He pulled up the grey hospital shirt I’d managed to change him into before I had to leave. This time when I saw the nakedness of his chest and abdomen I couldn’t help but stare at his softly defined muscles, all tensing during his movement. He was right, the hole below his rib now sealed, a newly-formed, pink scar in its place. The chest tube was still secured above it, now redundant.

“Gotta love bacta,” I hummed. “I can take that drain out now if you like.”

He looked at me incredulously. “You’ve just done a 30 hour round trip for me, not even sat down, and you want to dive head first into more treatment?”

“I... uh... I mean... I just wanted to help you feel better,” I stammered.

Poe shook his head, smirking. “It’s okay, I appreciate it. Really, I do. But I’m alright, the tube can wait. How about you rest for a second and tell me how the mission- I mean, trip, went?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Two days ago you were begging me to get going so I couldn’t waste any time, now you’re telling me I can take a load off?”

"Uh, yeah… Sorry about that,” he grimaced. “Having some time to think while you were gone... It made me realise everything you’d done and were doing for me - a stranger you had no reason to help." Poe took a long exhale before speaking again, his tone serious. "I was in a lot of pain, just woken up in a strange place. It’s still imperative to get a message back to the Resistance as soon as possible but... that’s not your burden to bear. I can't thank you enough for your help, but I'll try not to ask too much more of you.”

It seemed not only had his physical health improved, but logical thought and patience had returned.

I took my cue to sit on one of the opposite hospital beds, letting my feet dangle over the edge to kick my shoes off, feet pulsing with gratitude at their release. “There’s some villagers coming tomorrow,” I started. “They will hopefully have a new comm-tower up and running within the next couple of days. I told them about your droid too. There’s some spare parts in that bag.” I pointed my hand out to the satchel at Poe’s feet, glancing at the L shaped table beside his bed I’d set up. BB-8 was sitting on top of it, head and body still separated and now unbolted at separate points, wires haphazardly sticking out in different directions. Falling back into the mattress, I let out an exhausted sigh, relishing the feel of the squeaky mattress under my body.

“I really owe you. The Resistance owes you,” Poe praised after a few moments of silence, as I heard him begin to rummage through the satchel. I held back a frown, even when I knew he wouldn’t be able to catch sight of my face.

I didn’t do any of this for the Resistance.

It occurred to me then I wasn’t really sure why I’d done it at all. I had always been a sucker for those in poor predicaments, hence why I became a doctor in the first place. But the trek had nothing to do with treatment or medicine. It was purely at the behest of this pilot, who’s charming appearance in the dimmed orange light of the evening made my skin feel hot.

“So, how did a girl like you find herself in the middle of nowhere on the Outer Rim?” Poe questioned, fiddling with some of the parts.

I sat back up. “I’m not a girl. I’m 28. That’s a little too old to be called girl anymore.”

Poe chuckled, the sound of his laugh both warming and positively thrilling. “I apologise. How did a woman like you end up here?”

“I used to work on Coruscant, that’s where I started my medical training,” I explained, remembering the glittering planet I’d spent much of my young life on. “Then moved into the war relief efforts on medical frigates scattered throughout the galaxy. Treating wounded soldiers day in day out took its toll, having people constantly injured and almost dying for a war they didn’t start.” I glanced to Poe's expression, seeing a glow of understanding behind his eyes before I continued. “Plus, there were more than a few times I felt a little redundant. The medical droids they have kind of... made my treatment obsolete. I wanted to practice medicine in a place where adequate health care was rare or non-existent. I wanted to help those who were most desperate, who otherwise couldn’t afford it, those who would actually value the care of a live human doctor. So I picked a planet at random, and settled here."

The random part was an utter lie. No one had cared about Raxus since the Clone Wars, and the First Order wouldn’t make it their priority to conquer Outer Rim worlds for a while yet. It was a quiet, calm planet with countless refugees fleeing here to make peaceful new lives. They wouldn’t be concerned about old, rusty equipment, lower quality bacta or no medical droids. They would simply be happy at having a doctor within a day’s trek.

And no one would think of looking here for a Force user.

Poe studied me in quiet thought for a moment, taking in what I’d divulged. “Well, they're damn lucky, with how nicely you patched me up. You’d run circles around some of the doctors and medical droids at the Resistance base.” He grinned at me again, earnestly, another attempt to thank me for my work. I felt the pit of my stomach tense, and it wouldn’t retreat, the thought of his smile lingering in my mind even after he’d gone back to his tinkering.

It had to be because I’d been in isolation for so long, why I was reacting so strongly to the innocent smiles and compliments of a man I barely knew. I definitely wasn’t used to conversing with men so close in age to my own. Most of the local humans were older, married with children, and I rarely made conversation around any other topic than their illnesses.

“What... uh... Why were you flying over Raxus?” I asked awkwardly.

His eyebrows creased together as he looked back at me. “Raxus wasn’t my destination, but I... can’t tell you any more than that.”

“Oh…”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he urged. “It’s just, you know, highly confidential.” He seemed apologetic, like he owed me more of an explanation.

I nodded, agreeing the less I knew about the Resistance and their missions the better. “Well, you’ll be able to get back to it in a couple of days,” I insisted, breaking the awkward silence that had lingered. “Some time and a little bit more bacta and you’ll be like new again.”

“Actually, speaking of that,” he started, an uneasy expression now settling in his features. “I was wondering when you were thinking of letting me get out of this bed.”

“Depends on the reason Poe. I’d recommend starting your formal rehab tomorrow at the absolute earliest, otherwise we can get you up and walking if you need to do something… uh… specific.” There was no hiding the waver in my voice.

He laughed, louder than he had before, the sound making it difficult for me not to blush. “Aren’t you a doctor? Why are you embarrassed for me to use the bathroom?”

“Hey!” I frowned. “I was trying to save you from being embarrassed.”

He shook his head, still chuckling. “I’m alright on that front for now. I was actually hoping to use your refresher. It’s been a few days…”

“Oh of course!” I’d cleaned him up as much as I could before I’d left, getting rid of his obliterated flight suit and helping change into the bland hospital outfit I reserved for overnighters, but even to myself the idea of a shower was enticing.

A thought flashed into my mind of steaming water hitting Poe’s sun darkened skin, trickling down his toned body as he lathered himself in soap suds.

Woah.

Okay.

That was new.

It had been such a long time since I’d felt the fire of blood rushing to the lower portion of my abdomen, insides clenching at the heat so suddenly ignited.

Poe was looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue. I internally shook away the incriminating thoughts before they could be conveyed on my face. “How about I get that chest tube out first? Then I can help you to the ‘fresher?”

He breathed out in relief. “That would be fantastic.”

I stepped lightly off the hospital bed, walking shoe-less over to my medical trolley to drag it back to Poe’s side. And immediately, without me asking, he sat up and began a haphazard attempt to pull off his shirt, left arm bandaged and stiff, right arm enveloped in the cast I’d made and evidently still painful to move.

In a wordless reply, I helped him pull the fabric over his head, confronted with the image of a half-naked, strikingly handsome man in front of me.

I couldn’t believe I hadn’t recognised any of his raw allure when he’d been almost stripped completely bare by my own hands on the night of his crash. It seemed bizarre I wouldn’t have noted the strong, broadness of his shoulders, his armoured chest littered deliciously with dark hair, carved abdominal muscles tensed in waiting.

I swallowed hard, hoping Poe wouldn’t register my shaking hands as I prepared the tube removal kit. Snipping the sutures around the plastic, unsteady gloved fingers pulled out the tube as smoothly as I could manage, Poe flinching slightly at the sensation. He continued to look away as I injected some bacta gel into the wound, sealing it closed with a few new sutures and placing a waterproof dressing over the site.

“All done,” I settled. “Like nothing happened at all.”

Poe looked back to me and smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. It was obvious he remained troubled by the memories of his crash, and understandably so. I’d seen the same look in many other military personnel, the attempt to put on a brave face when images of fire, blood and terror pierced their thoughts. I desperately wanted to take his mind to a brighter place. “So, ready to try walking?”

“Absolutely! Lead the way doc.”

Ugh. Eventually I would have to correct him on that.

I stepped back from the side of the bed, arms stretched in readiness for when he inevitably stumbled. “Please take it slowly. Your muscles aren’t going to be pleased with what you’re doing after over two days of bed rest.”

“Sure thing,” Poe scoffed.

Typical male.

Initially he seemed to take my direction, moving his legs slowly from under the blanket, pain now registering on his features. He swivelled himself sluggishly to let his legs fall over the side of the mattress, breathing slightly heavier to push through the discomfort.

He was leaning more on his left side, right arm hovering over his thigh. Tentatively, he slipped his left foot onto the floor and shifted his weight onto it, pushing his hand into the mattress to help himself up.

Soon he was standing in front of me for the first time since we’d met, and even amongst all the burns, bruises, dressings and bandages, he looked impossibly strong, toned muscles wrapping his form.

He noticed the timid smile form on my lips.

“Hey don’t start laughing at me. I don’t think I could handle my ego being bruised along with the rest of me.”

“Oh... I wasn’t-,” I stumbled, quietly relieved he’d misread the reason behind my smirk.

He held his hand up in protest, grinning. “I was kidding. You’re welcome to laugh at the adult sized toddler learning to walk again.”

It was difficult not to snicker at his words. “Come on,” I encouraged. “Just think of how nice that hot water will feel.”

He sighed in agreement and moved, taking a hesitant step onto the previously fractured leg. I swiftly froze with anxiety, even when the logical side of my brain told me both the break and the artery would have stabilised exponentially by now. But the emotional side, the part that remembered the rush of blood that had exploded from the wound site, nagged incessantly at me, insisting that this was a very bad idea.

My eyes were glued to Poe’s figure as he shifted his weight deliberately, muscles tensing at the trigger of pain he was likely feeling, before he made a delicate hop to move back onto his left leg.

Even that one haggard step appeared to take a lot out of him, but he seemed determined, eyebrows already wrinkled in concentration. He continued the process a few times over, my arms still poised in waiting for the foreseeable stumble as I walked backwards. I couldn’t help but hold my breath as he limped, following me out of the clinic room into the hallway that lead to my office, the ‘fresher, and my living quarters all the way at the end.

His steps became faster, more confident, when all of a sudden, his balance wavered.

Reacting quickly, I stepped forward to catch him, arms circling under his own and around his torso, hands now gripping the muscles on his back as he crashed into me. I would have stayed there for a moment, my fingertips registering the warmth radiating off his skin, until I became fully aware where his face had fallen into.

I felt Poe’s heated exhale through the cotton of my white shirt after his face had collided into my chest, directly between my breasts. The twinge in my lower abdomen occurred again, breath hitching in my throat.

He scrambled to push himself back into a standing position, my arms releasing from around him, his hands clamping around my biceps as he fought to reclaim his steadiness again.

“I am so sorry!” he blurted, his face dangerously close to mine, only a small touch of redness visible under his caramel skinned cheeks. I knew my blushing would be much more pronounced.

“It’s okay,” I breathed. “I was waiting for that to happen.”

His eyes widened.

“Not that!” I yelped. “I meant you falling! I was waiting for you to fall!”

Poe’s face illuminated into a beaming grin. “Sure you did.”

I frowned in protest, but couldn’t stop the chuckle escaping. I shifted to face the same way as him, an arm curling around his torso, angling my body under his own. “How about I help you the rest of the way?”

His hand gripped onto my shoulder, the hardened squeeze making the tensing inside me ripple even faster.

Focus Alex.

Poe let me support him as he limped down the hallway, and I desperately tried to distance myself from the thoughts that swirled in my mind at being connected so closely.

Eventually we made it into the ‘fresher, a white and grey tiled room with the large, frameless shower enclosure taking up most of the space, the only privacy a plastic curtain that could be pulled across the entire spans of the room. I’d designed it with the idea there would be enough space to assist overnighter patient’s in washing themselves, since I didn’t have a nurse to do it for me. Yet, it still gave me the ability to provide some discretion by stepping out past the other side of the curtain, ready to swoop in if I was needed.

And that’s what I’d planned for Poe, knowing he was hardly the type of patient that was going to let me do anything for him if he could help it. Guiding him to the backless shower chair, I released him to his own devices and quickly pulled the curtain across. It was more for my own concealment at this point, needing to take a moment to settle myself down, the memory of his hold still lingering on my skin.

“I’ll be right here if you need any help okay? Everything you need will be on the shelf under the shower start button.”

“Thanks Alex,” he answered, his voice huffing out as I could hear he’d already started to shimmy down his pants.

Stop imagining it Alex. Stop thinking about him naked, a metre away, behind that thin curtain.

The sound of water rushing into the tile floor pulled me back into some impression of reality. I busied myself with organising my own hygienic supplies in the mirrored cupboard, desperately trying to think of anything other than the man hidden from my view, steam swirling around his figure, water dribbling down his bare skin. From behind the screen I heard a pleasant moan leave him, obviously enjoying the hot water battering into his aching muscles for the first time in days.

And with that sound I felt a twinge between my legs, heat swelling and rippling outwards through my body.

Stars, that was... hot.

It felt so unprofessional, to be tantalized by the thought of a man, a patient, in the middle of such a basic act of human hygiene. But I couldn’t deny he was more attractive than any patient I’d ever had in my life, and the thought of ripping open the curtain so I could join him was suddenly the most tempting thing in the galaxy.

I locked my hands onto the basin that stood in front of me, trying not to be overwhelmed by the sound of Poe lathering soap between his hands, then sliding over an unseen portion of his body.

It was then I started to pace, hoping the repetitive movement would stop me ruminating over the indecent notions my mind was conjuring. Minutes ticked by too slowly as I waited for him to finish his routine, begging for the irresistible pull of craving to be released from me.

“Hey Alex?” Poe suddenly called.

“What's wrong?” I squeaked, cursing at myself for sounding so startled.

“I actually need some help.”

Oh maker, why do you do this to me?

I swallowed hard. “Y-yeah. Sure. Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he began, voice sounding a little forced. “It’s just... with my left arm still bandaged, and my right arm still in the cast, I can’t wash my hair. I know it’s a little strange, but could you help me out?”

My heart ricocheted inside my rib cage, frolicking at the thought of seeing him soaked in water, fingers raking through his dampened hair.

Come on Alex, try to keep at least one shred of professionalism.

“Sure,” I agreed, a more competent tone saturating my voice as I withheld my internal fluttering. “Make yourself… uh… decent, and I’ll open the curtain.”

I heard Poe’s movement as he reached for one of the towels hanging on the rail nearby and wrapped it around his lower body. The flowing water soon came to a stop, the sudden silence making me feel uneasy.

“Ready.”

I placed myself in front of the curtain between us, his stature only barely visible through the clouded screen. My jaw was locked as I took a deep breath through my nose, meditating in thought, frantically clawing at a sense of calm.

Then I reached towards the plastic, clenched my hand around it, and pulled.

Next Chapter

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#poe dameron #poe dameron x original female character #kylo ren #kylo ren x original female character #star wars #star wars fanfiction #adcu #adcu fanfiction

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years

Text

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s Daughter (The Teenage Years)

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

warnings:

a/n: this is LONG so please dont let this flop

prompt: y/n is 12-16, takes place from Avengers 1 to Avengers 2

The Early Years (1) The Intense Years (3) The Aftermath (4) Continued (5)

starting out with tony powering stark tower with clean energy:

it was very late, you were supposed to be asleep

“what are you doing up, missy? it’s way past your bedtime”

“it’s my fault, i let her stay up to see her dad’s big achievement” -pepper

just vibing on the couch with absolutely no intention of sleeping anytime soon

you really did take after your dad

“how was the show, sweetheart?”

“uh, cool?”

coulson showing up when he did

you were excited bc you knew he had to be there for superhero stuff

“hi, agent coulson!!”

“hey there, kiddo!

BEGGING to come with your dad

“no. absolutely not. there is absolutely no way im letting you get involved in any of this”

you got involved

but like, not the whole “im a 12 year old superhero” involved

“y/n, sweetie, this is dr. banner, you’re gonna be his assistant in the lab!”

“—what?” *bruce utterly shocked*

talking that man’s ear off oh my GOD

he taught you a few things along the way, though

it ended up being very educational

“yeah i built my own suit! it’s definitely not as cool as my dad’s...and he put a bunch of safety controls on it. obviously, i could bypass them and do whatever i wanted, but it’s best not to break his trust, you know?”

“you are astonishingly wise for a 12 year old”

bruce being kind of scared around you because he thinks he could hurt you

also scared you might hurt yourself on the scepter

CASUALLY talking to the rest of the avengers

“so, you’re stark’s daughter? now i’ve met three generations of starks.” -steve

“oh, wonderful, there’s a smaller one!” -thor

“hey, y/n, it’s good to see you again. still practicing those moves i showed you?” -natasha

listennnn as you got older you started to exert more of your father’s personality traits

you developed his sarcastic and occasionally ill-timed humor...and

YOU WERE COCKY AS FUCK

“i mean, i’m not saying that i’m better than you but i know you’re thinking it”

when the helicarrier was attacked nobody really knew the correct way to protect you

“dad? dad??”

“right here, y/n, come with me”

tony brought your suit for emergency purposes

“you put this on and you stay here, understand?”

oh, another thing you got from him? NOT LISTENING

helping where you could, the first step to becoming a superhero, right?

being really upset when coulson died

but understanding that it was apart of the job

going back to new york for some alien ass kicking and having the whole team check on you every thirty seconds

“y/n, how’s it going?” “stark junior, are you doing okay?” “need any help out there, kid?”

“you guys don’t have to babysit me” “i’m still kickin’ it, thanks”

tony calling right before he went through the wormhole

“hey sweetheart, just gotta let you know that i love you and i am so proud of everything you’ve done”

the avengers holding you back from him when he fell back to the ground because you were unreasonably worried for obvious reasons

“is he breathing? steve? steve, let me see him! JARVIS, are you there?”

falling on the ground and hugging him (with your clunky-ass armor still on)

“hey! yeah, i missed you too”

*clink clink* pat on the back

schwarma stop

“you’re gonna eat it and you’re gonna like it”

having your own input on the stark tower remodel

taking a slight pause for random stuff

you’ve definitely drawn his mustache/goatee on your face before

“please tell me that’s not permanent marker”

“it’s permanent marker”

you and pepper doing mother/daughter things for bonding (but you and her already had a great relationship)

unreasonable amount of cussing from your father has rubbed off onto you and now he doesn’t notice when you say bad words

natasha taught you how to shoot so that was cool

“if i can shoot a repulsor, i think i can shoot a gun”

“whatever you say, baby stark”

obviously the team is just a bunch of protective uncles and an aunt

“i miss [insert avenger here]”

resume to iron man 3

just tinkering in the shop with pops

“are you sure that’s safe, dad?”

“duh, why wouldn’t it be safe?”

you were right and it was not safe

sometimes you proved your dad wrong and it made him happy?

“well would you look at that, you’re right”

learning how to help your dad with his anxiety and panic attacks

the house in malibu got blown up and your dad disappeared

you were benched by pepper effective immediately

“don’t you think it would be better if i were still out there? someone has to be out there and...i don’t know, protect the people?”

“y/n, please, you’re still a kid. i can excuse fighting aliens but i draw the line at terrorism”

“you can excuse fighting aliens??”

pepper sent you to a different house and hired a...babysitter

zip zip zip its AOU time yall remember the beginning of that at the hydra base

*explosion* “oh, shit! didn’t mean to do that...”

“watch your language, y/n!” -cap

“don’t tell my daughter what to do!”

having an external monologue that everyone just kind of rolls with

“glad i put a heater in this suit” “anyone up for burgers?” *humming Eye of the Tiger*

going back to the lab with tony and bruce and being very uncomfortable with the idea of ultron

“okay dad, you know how im usually right?”

“lighten up, kiddo. remember what i taught you about trial and error? this is a learning experience”

*bruce and you side eying*

“i’ll ground you”

“what?!”

“kidding, im kidding”

a lot of kid jokes from other partygoers

“isnt it past your bedtime”

“very funny”

actually dressing up nice for a change, as opposed to an oil-stained band tee

but then ur outfit was ruined because you had to shoot murder bots :(

“not cool! i designed this room!”

tony still got all the blame for ultron while you and bruce went 😬

tony made a joke about ultron being your brother and you didn’t talk to him for hours

“oh, come on! you have to learn to laugh at your mistakes!”

“poor choice of words, stark” -literally everyone

🎶getting to see your worst feaaar🎶

which was a mixture between tony not surviving the wormhole and being abandoned and vulnerable again

your phone got confiscated “because of ultron”

meeting wanda and pietro on better terms

“you are stark’s daughter?”

“um, yeah, that’s me. i sincerely apologize for anything he’s ever done wrong while i’ve been alive”

actually getting along with them (plus you were in a similar age range)

“uncle rhodey!!!”

“staying out of trouble, i hope?”

“define ‘trouble’”

okay okay, enough of that. besides a few robots hitting you and you hitting harder...and ultron taking a couple personal jabs at you after accessing some of your social media accounts...it went back to normal(ish)

you made a friend of wanda and visited the avengers compound weekly and helped with training

and nat gave you some spy pointers to help you if you ever found yourself without the suit

when you left the compound after thor that day, you had some nice father/daughter time

“why don’t i give you a driving lesson, yeah?”

“you’re gonna trust me to drive this thing?”

“sure, why not?”

you drove very fast, wonder where you learned that from

he was clasping onto the seats and whispering curse words

“next time, you can drive with happy”

#tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark #iron man #iron man x daughter!reader #iron man imagine #iron man x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #avengers

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toomanysurveys9 · 2 years

Text

How are you? Honestly, not great. I’m really struggling with a lot right now... like how I started a job a couple weeks ago and I’m already quitting and going back to my old job. But to be fair, they weren’t honest about the hours, and it’s a 40 minute drive there and back home, and I still have to take care of my kids, plus my little sisters and grandparents, make dinner, and find time for my schooling. Which can be hard when you’re not getting off work until at least 5:30 PM.

What’s your preferred name? Marlina.

Have you ever sit under a bridge? I might have. I don’t remember for sure either way.

Do you ever go fishing or do you find it to be cruel? I’ve fished before. I’m not as into it as Jacob is or would like me to be.

What’s your favorite kind of donut? I usually go for Boston creme or just chocolate frosted yeast donuts.

When was the last time you went on a date? Jacob and I kind of had a date last Sunday I think? I don’t know. We went to a Japanese food place because Jacob has been on a sushi kick.

What flowers look best in a bouquet? I don’t know. I just love flower bouquets in general.

Do you like chia pudding, if you’ve ever tried it? I’ve never tried it.

Have you ever put the blame on someone for something that was your fault? I’m sure I have at one point or another, but I’m more likely to take the blame than pass it on.

Do you have trouble remembering people’s names? Yeah, sometimes.

Do you separate your laundry or just throw it all in there and hope for the best? Throw it all in and hope for the best. I’m such a great adult. Ha.

What is something you want? A flexible job that actually pays a decent amount.

Have you ever been in a castle? I have not.

Can you sing well? People think I do usually. I don’t know why though. I don’t think I can.

Are you currently procrastinating? Not really. I’m more wasting time at work. It doesn’t make sense for me to do the training videos when my last day is next Friday, but I can’t get my next client until later sooo this it is. I’m loving this surface pro though. I’m definitely going to save up and get one.

When was the last time you kicked a ball? I don’t remember.

What age did you learn how to tie your shoes?

I don’t remember. I think I was around five... another thing to work on with Wy man.

When did you last change clothes?

This morning.

What all have you done here recently that you found to be fun? Spent time with my kiddos. I also bought a karaoke computer and some speakers so I’ve been enjoying karaoke.

Do you ever like to watch the clouds? Not really anymore.

Have you ever tried to make your own bread? I keep thinking about it, but no.

Have you ever shut your hand up in a door? Yeah. Not enjoyable.

IHow did you get your last bruise? It’s hard telling.

What’s your favorite kind of tree? Willow.

Do you like to collect rocks you find outside? I do not. My kiddos sure do though.

Do you collect anything or would you like to? Books. I have so many books and they make me so happy. I want to go book shopping again soon.

What’s something you find hard to believe? That there is a god.

What color is your favorite pair of socks? I don’t really have a favorite.

What makes you sensitive? Like, emotionally? Kids.

Does your town have a lot of graffiti? Not really.

Do you like mozzarella sticks? I do.

Have you ever tried to fit inside of a suitcase? Not that I can remember. But I forget a lot from my childhood so there’s that.

Do you like mullets or wish they were a thing of the past? It’s not my favorite, although there are baby pictures of my brother with one and those are cute. Lol.

What’s a current trend you do not like? I really don’t know.

Have you ever stepped on glass barefoot? Yeah.

What’s your opinion on The Beatles? I like some of their music.

What’s sitting on your dining room table currently? I know my computer for sure. And probably clean clothes. And who knows what else.

What do you hear right now? A therapist talking on the computer or their phone. And me typing.

Do you ever argue with people online? I have.

Have you ever caught someone doing something they shouldn’t? Yup.

Do you think it’s possible to fall in love with someone online? It’s happened before to other people, so sure.

Do you ever pluck your eyebrows? No.

Last time you ran into someone you know in public? I honestly don’t remember.

What is for supper today? Most people are having frozen pizza. Jake and I might take Wy out for dinner though because it’s kindergarten blast-off night.

What is a tv show that you find annoying? Family Guy. I just can never get into that one.

Tell me about an embarrassing thing you’ve said to someone so I can feel less alone in being weird. 😅 I know I’ve said embarrassing things but can’t think of anything specific.

What’s a music video you enjoy? Hm. Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off by Joe Nichols makes me giggle.

How long do you spend in a bath or shower? Fifteen minutes, if I’m lucky.

Are you accident prone? Very. And Eliana seems to have got that gene from me.

Name a song that reminds you of summer. Summertime by Kenny Chesney.

What did you last use a microwave or air fryer for? I warmed up green beans a couple nights ago.

What’s your middle name? I’m sure it is on here somewhere but I’m not sharing it again.

Have you ever regifted something? Probably.

Have you ever been scared of something you’ve seen on the internet? Yes. All the time. I get so anxious.

Do you share any of the same favorite bands as your parents/guardian? Yup. Mostly my mom.

How much money are you willing to spend on a new pair of shoes? If I’m getting converse, like $60. Otherwise, $20 or less.

What kinds of cereal do you have in your pantry/cupboard? I know honey nut cheerios, frosted flakes, and probably frosted shredded wheat and lucky charms without the marshmallows because the kids ate them all.

What’s the last thing you spent more than $20 on? Gas.

Do you enjoy maple syrup? On certain things, yes.

Do you or anyone you know want to run for any political office? Nope.

Have you ever used a kerosene heater? I have not.

What’s your favorite outfit to wear? Leggings and whatever tshirt and a hoodie.

Do you own any purple clothing? I do.

Do you currently see anything shiny in the room you’re in? A few things.

How many pairs of jeans do you have? Two.

Do you have any alcohol in your house? Thankfully, yes. I’m gonna need it after this week and probably next.

Could you easily wake up at 5am every morning? I hate waking up early. But that’s because I really struggle to fall asleep.

Would you want to know if you were adopted? Are you adopted? Yes, but I’m not.

Are you allergic to any foods? Nope.

What’s something you’ve owned for more than 10 years? I have some clothes still. Some stuffed animals.

When was the last time you were excited over something? I’m excited right now to go see my brother in like two weeks.

Is there a tv family that reminds you of yours? Kind of.

If you had to create a character for a book or whatever, what would they be like? I have some ideas.

What’s the weather like where you are? It’s so cold!

Chapstick or lip gloss? Chapstick.

Have you ever been in a wedding? Just my own.

Do you or anyone you know constantly stay on their cell phone? Jacob is all the time.

Do you know how long your screen time is? I don’t know.

#survey #surveys #personal #question #questions #random

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pricemarshfield · 3 years

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i dig you

A fluff & angst Amberprice fic. Chapter 1/2. Read on AO3 here.

Chloe still seems shocked every time Rachel sits next to her at lunch. She hides it well, snarks at anyone who questions them, teases Rachel about the plays she still brings to read and reread again and again.

But Rachel's pretty insightful, and she notices when Chloe's eyes widen, when she shifts like she's not quite sure what to do, when her smile dims a little when Victoria loudly questions why Rachel's still hanging around the soon-to-be-dropout.

She's not sure what to do about it. If she just tells her no, Chloe, I do want to be here still, she's sure Chloe'd find a way to take it the wrong way, question why she needed to bring it up, deny she ever doubted it in the first place. One or all of those things. She loves her, but her abandonment issues run deep. Rachel could punch Victoria, but she'd definitely get kicked out for that, and she doesn't want to risk law school.

So she makes an effort to include Chloe in everything. Chloe sits in on rehearsals, ignoring Mr. Keaton's increasingly desperate attempts to get her to join or at least take the intro elective class. They get high in the junkyard, find a little room and make it their own with graffiti (with actual spray paint, thank you, not a Sharpie). Rachel watches Chloe's weird movies, Chloe watches Rachel's Broadway bootlegs, they listen to punk and drive around in the truck, fabric of the seat replaced so they can't see the deep, dark red stain from when she got stabbed.

It doesn't change anything. Chloe still looks at her like it'll be the last time they hang out every time they have some minor disagreement, texts a hundred times in a row begging her not to leave her every time she gets drunk without Rachel there to reassure her in person. It's...a little exhausting, if she's being honest. She loves Chloe, she wants to help her! But it's...sometimes she's just trying to have fun with some other group, and it's been three parties of that in a row.

"You texting your girlfriend?" asks some well-meaning newbie to the Vortex Club. Rachel opens her mouth to deny it, already dreading having to make herself heard over Victoria's snide commentary and Nathan's barely-veiled homophobia, but then her phone goes off again, and again, and one more time for good measure.

"I do have to take this," she says, and pretends she can't hear the conversation that kicks up before the door's fully shut behind her.

The cool, fresh air outside is refreshing, and she takes a couple deep breaths before calling Chloe.

"Rachel," Chloe says, voice slurring enough that Rachel's heart immediately kicks into a higher gear.

"Hey, Chlo," Rachel says, a nickname she has not used once in her life. "What's up?"

"Wher're you?" Chloe asks instead. Rachel doesn't hear the sound of the train, so probably not in the junkyard? But it could just not be passing.

"At Blackwell," Rachel says, which isn't, technically, a lie. She's on school grounds, and she says it casually enough that Chloe doesn't immediately push. "Do you want to come over? We could put on a movie, light some incense."

Chloe laughs, and the sound is light and easy before it cuts out abruptly. She can't hear anything on the other end.

"Chloe? Are you okay?"

"I'm fucking fine," Chloe says, and she keeps her voice quiet, so that means she's at her house. Rachel's tipsiness from earlier in the night has long since faded, she's probably good to drive, and she really, really doesn't want to leave Chloe alone. There's an edge to her voice that Rachel doesn't trust, reminds her of the fragility in her mom's voice the last time she visited before apparently disappearing off the face of the earth.

Rachel hopes she's in rehab. But she thinks Rose would tell her if that was the case.

"Okay," Rachel says. "I'd still like to hang out, if you're free."

"'Course I'm free," Chloe says. "i don't have any fuckin' friends, do I." It's not said like a question.

"You have me."

"Right," Chloe says. "Just the best of friends."

Rachel's already in the parking lot, trying to remember where the hell she'd parked the car. (Her dad's: knowing how much evidence they have on him working with Damon, he's been inclined to give her everything she wants, especially now that she's already met her mom. Rose still tries, too.) "Yeah. We're best friends, Chloe. You're the person I care about most in this shithole town."

"Yeah," Chloe says. "Yeah, when are we leaving, again? Thought you wanted to leave more than anything?"

"I did!" Rachel says, then corrects, "I do. I had to heal up after getting stabbed, remember?"

It's shitty and manipulative, but it works; Chloe's irritation switches to concern. "Yeah. I remember."

"But I am feeling better now," Rachel says. "I'm ready to go when you are."

"Now?"

"Sure," Rachel says. "Tell me where you are."

"Step-dick's house," Chloe says, quieter now. "Do you mean it?"

"Of course I mean it," Rachel says. "Do you still have all the clothes I packed you?"

"Yeah," Chloe says, voice hitching a little like she's about to cry. "I do."

"Awesome," Rachel says, excited despite herself. "Then I'll see you soon."

---

Rachel wants to be ready for the grand adventure with her friend at her side, but Chloe's house is more than a couple minutes' drive from Blackwell, which gives the logical parts of her plenty of time to ask her what the fuck she thinks she's doing.

They have no money. Rachel's barely gotten her first credit card, and it has, like, 1500 dollars on it. Which is a lot of money, but she's already spent some of it on alcohol, on their half-decent fakes, on Venmoing Frank for their weed or the other things she's tentatively tried. So they have about a thousand, which will cover gas to LA, at least, and probably food, and do they really need hotel rooms?

But of course they need hotel rooms, they can't just park by the side of the road in the middle-of-nowhere freeways. Those are like...fifty bucks? A hundred bucks? They can share a bed, that should make it cheaper.

So. A thousand will get them to LA. Then they'll...get jobs, Rachel guesses.

She's got this idea of herself working at a diner, wearing some cute outfit with pops of red, serving coffee and making small talk with the chefs while she waits for her big break. But that's only good for the modelling; she wants to go into law one day, too.

Maybe she can transfer to a school there? Showing she's independent enough to live on her own (with Chloe, of course, but without her parents there) has to look good on an application?

Or reckless and irresponsible, like her dad keeps calling Chloe.

All-in-all, Rachel's doubting everything in her entire life as she pulls up to Chloe's house. Chloe isn't outside, and she's about to throw some pebbles at her window when the front door opens with barely a creak.

"Did you oil the hinges?" Rachel asks, trying to keep the tone light. "Handy."

Chloe beams at her, wearing Rachel's old tarot shirt. Fuck, her tarot decks, she wants to bring those. All her things. At least some clothes. Probably some food, too?

"Do you have all the stuff you wanna bring?" Rachel asks. "We might need to stop by my place."

"That's what you said last time," Chloe says, but looks at Rachel, wearing her party outfit--only a tank top and some high shorts, which are cute but not great for the only outfit to have in a big life change--and shrugs.

Rachel breathes a sigh of relief. "Plus, they'll get mad if we steal the car. And gas is gonna be expensive enough."

"Don't care," Chloe says. "I'll take the truck."

Chloe, who is visibly swaying on her feet, is absolutely not good to drive. Rachel thinks for a second--if she drives her dad's car back, Chloe can be in the passenger seat, but then they'll have to walk with all her bags back to the truck. If they take the truck, Rachel can leave the keys and a note explaining where it is. They'll be mad, but whatever.

"Can I drive your truck, actually?" Rachel asks, and Chloe shrugs again. It won't be the first time behind the wheel of the truck, but it will be the first time on actual roads, not the paths they'd cleared in the junkyard. "Thanks, Chloe."

"Sure," Chloe says, tossing her the keys and yanking at the handle on her side. Rachel opens her door, reaches over to unlock the passenger side so Chloe can climb in. "What are we getting?"

"Clothes," Rachel says. "Maybe my tarot decks."

A couple of the plays she has physical copies of. Any and all drugs left in her room. Her flashlight that Chloe made for her. The important things.

"Okay," Chloe says. "You mean it? We're gonna leave?"

"I do," Rachel says, and she should kiss her. She should. She has before. She wants to. But she looks at Chloe, eyes still wide with disbelief that Rachel will follow her, will help lead the way out. If she pushes this, and she's wrong...

Rachel grabs her hand instead, smiles at her. Chloe squeezes it, and they keep holding hands the whole way to the Amber house. Rachel hopes she won't ever let go.

#amberprice #rachel amber #chloe price #life is strange #my fics #OKAY done crossposting sorry for spam everyone

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itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto · 4 years

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Doctor’s Orders.

A/N: Hi everyone, this fic is a crossover between Criminal Minds and CSI New York, so I hope you enjoy. Just before you do, I’d just like to do a little shout-out to @g0ldengubler who proof read some of this fic for me. I won’t be publishing a lot now, as I have a lot of University work and exam to prepare for, but I’ll still be online! My requests for Matthew Gray Gubler and Spencer Reid are still open, as is my taglist!

Triggers: Shootings at Churches/religious places, swearing, sex/smut (implied)

“Right my darlings, today I am taking you to New York.” Garcia said “Ooh, all expenses paid?” Emily asked all excited. “Case.” Hotch said as everyone groaned, in desperate need for a holiday. “There has been a series of shootings at Churches, and every time a family sadly dies.” J.J says, “They get shot and well, you get the idea. Detective Mac Taylor called us for help.” “I thought the NYPD would be able to solve this, they’re all really smart.” Spencer said “They are, but they need our help in bringing the unsub, or unsubs down. They don’t know who they are looking for.” Penelope said, “Now go crime fighters, the plane leaves in an hour.” “Bye baby girl.” Morgan said kissing Penelope’s cheek. “Come back safe my darlings.” Penelope said waving goodbye to them as they got in the lift “God I love that woman.” Morgan smiled “Speaking of women, Reid, you single?” Rossi asked Spencer looked up from his book and his cheeks flushed. “Yes. I don’t see how that is relevant.” “Maybe we can get you a pretty lady on the next team night out, or maybe even whilst we are in New York. I mean, we need to get you a girl.” J.J smiled “Yeah, we need another girl we can take on girls night.” Emily said “Maybe we can see if we can get the vacancy filled for a new agent on the team whilst in New York.” Hotch said, agreeing with J.J and Emily, but tried to think of a professional response. “I didn’t realise we had the budget for a new agent, I would have got a new type of coffee if I knew.” Rossi said “Not everything is about coffee Rossi.” Morgan said “It is when you are Italian.” Rossi said and got out of the lift. Spencer rolled his eyes at his co-workers and picked up another book. He did agree he needed to get out there but wanted to when he was ready. On the plane “My darlings, there’s been another church shooting. Mac Taylor will meet you with Detective and all-round forensics & Detective and Doctor Y/N Y/S/N will be there too, oh, and her PhDs are in Mathematics and Chemistry, same as genius baby.” Penelope said on the phone providing more details. “Thank you Garcia.” Hotch said and hung up. “Did someone enjoy researching the detective?” Morgan texts Garcia “That’s classified chocolate thunder and you know it. ;)” Penelope replied “Reid, Rossi go with Agent/Doctor Y/N Y/S/N and see what they have so far. J.J, Emily and Morgan with me and Mac Taylor when we get off the plane.” Hotch said. “Aaron Hotchner, Dr Y/N Y/S/N, we spoke on the phone. This is Detective Mac Taylor.” You say and do handshakes with everyone except the cute curly haired one. “It’s actually safer to kiss or hug.” Spencer said to you after introducing himself to you. “Nice to meet another Doctor.” He smiled You smile back, “You too Dr Reid.” “You can call me Spence if you like.” Spencer smiled as J.J and Emily give each-other ‘the look’ and text Penelope. “And you can call me Y/N or Y/N/N. I only let special people call me my nickname though.” You wink and Spencer’s cheeks flush. “Special people kid. She likes you.” Rossi winked Spencer rolled his eyes and went with you, Hotch and Mac to the office to discuss the case so far. “Would you like some coffee? The flight must’ve been a long one.” You say putting the machine on. “Only 1 hour, 12 minutes.” Spencer smiled “He means yes, we’d love some coffee.” Rossi said as Spencer gave him a ‘What?’ facial expression “Here you go.” You smile. “Sugar and milk are on the table behind you. I got some donuts earlier, there were more but I had a sugar craving.” “Thank you Y/N, this is perfect. We don’t normally get food.” Spencer said picking up a donut “Rossi, could you join Hotch and I to go through some forensics?” Mac asked “Sure.” Rossi said and left the two Doctors to it. “They seem to be getting on. Y/N/N is my best detective.” Mac smiled at Rossi, “But she doesn’t have much of a life outside of the job. She’s only 28 and started here at 16 as an intern.” “I could say the same about Spencer, and he’s 30 but he started at the FBI when he was 22.” Rossi said as he looked at some evidence under the microscope. “So, what are your PhDs in Y/N/N?” Spencer smiled at you even though he knew the answer. “Maths and Chemistry, but I want to go for one in History next. What about you Spence?” You ask as the team walk back in. “Oh me too! Well, not the History bit.” Spencer said and sipped his coffee. “Look guys, Dr Y/S/N brought us donuts.” He said “Ooh good, I’m starving.” J.J smiled grabbing one. You, Mac and the FBI went through the case, and the team went through their profile. “You keep staring at him.” Mac whispered to you “Who?” You whisper back “Dr Reid.” Mac whispered as your cheeks flush, maybe you have got a crush on him. “Is it that obvious?” You whisper Mac nods and you go back to listening. “So, you think it’s a foster kid then?” You chat to Emily and J.J who have taken a shine to you. “Yeah, we have seen it before.” Emily said “I’m sorry.” You say “Don’t be Y/N. We’ve all seen terrible things.” J.J said “I’ll drink to that.” You say “Once the case is over, we should all go for a drink.” Rossi said “That’d be good.” Hotch said You and Spencer nod and continue reading some old case files that Penelope sent. “This is interesting. Drew Smith was in and out of care all his life, and all of his foster families said he was sweet at first but then turned into the devil. Could he fit the profile Spence?” You ask, handing him the file. Spencer reads it in all of 30 seconds. “Yeah. Definitely. Hotch?” He asks. “Y/N has a theory.” “Put me on the spot why don’t you?” You giggle at Spencer, “Mac?” You ask and the two teams listen to you. “Look at Spencer giving Y/N the googly eyes.” Morgan smirked to Rossi. “She’s smart and beautiful, he had better ask her out. Or Hotch better ask her to join us.” J.J said looking at Hotch in the eye “Plus she has a gun and a badge already. She wouldn’t need training.” Emily said agreeing with her co-workers. “She’s Mac’s best detective, he won’t give her up easy.” Rossi said You finish delivering your theory. “I’ll have a word with Mac once the case is over.” Hotch says after hearing the teams discussion. “Y/N, could you go with Spencer and Flack to see if you can bring in Smith? Make sure to take your gun though.” Mac asked, “If that’s okay with you Hotch.” “Yes, that is fine.” Hotch said as the girls and Morgan smirked at each-other. You nod biting your lip and go to your desk to get your weapon Spencer follows you, noticing a photo of you and the NYPD team at Halloween dressed up, but you look very young. “When was this?” Spencer asked you. “Oh, the year the NYPD offered me a paid job. I started here as an intern at 16 and worked my way up. I got a paid detective internship at 18 that means I’ve been here 12 years this year. That’s a fucking long time.” You chuckle putting your hoodie on. Spencer nods. “Definitely. I’ve been at the FBI for 8.” “You ready Y/N? Dr Reid, right? I’m Flack.” Flack asks putting his hand out to Spencer. “He doesn’t do handshakes.” You smile, remembering his germaphobia. “It’s safer to kiss or hug.” Spencer said “But we’ve kissed before Y/N.” Flack smiled at you Spencer immediately feels jealous, and he doesn’t understand why… Maybe he does fancy you. “Yes, on the cheek as my best friend.” You smile as Flack wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Let’s roll.” “Is it me or did Spencer look jealous then?” Morgan smirked “Yes. Definitely.” Hotch said Mac laughed. “Flack has a girlfriend. I can tell Y/N likes Spencer. She’s like a daughter to me, but I am terrified of her sometimes.” Rossi laughed, “We are terrified of Spencer sometimes.” In the car “Turn left you fucker.” Flack laughed as you took the wrong turn. “I turned left.” You smirk “You turned right.” Spencer said laughing at your banter with Flack. “You may be a Doctor Y/N, but you are shit at listening for directions.” Flack said “You may need my Maths skills one day you bell-end and if you hadn’t noticed, the sign said no left turn.” You smirk and arrive at Smith’s apartment. “Maybe listen to your doctor.” Spencer smirked “Ah she knows I’m messing with her.” Flack smiled as he got out of the car. “She’s like my little sister.” “And you’re my dickhead of a big brother.” You say and park up. “I miss when you were 16 and didn’t answer back.” Flack laughed as some shots were fired, you all quickly put vests on as Flack kicks down the door. “I see you have your own Derek Morgan.” Spencer thought to himself “Freeze! NYPD and FBI! Lower your weapons.” You announce, as Smith tries to run but you trip him up. “Got you, you son of a bitch. Oh, and you have a little weed farm here too, we better add that to the murder charge.” “Murder?” Smith says as Flack puts him in cuffs. “We got Smith and we need a crime scene team here ASAP.” You say calling it in. “Don’t play dumb with us asshole.” Flack said putting him in the car. Back at the office, Mac and Hotch are talking to Drew, whilst the rest of your team and the FBI compare notes before they interview him.

“Do they always say no comment?” Emily asked you. “Yeah, or a string of swear words.” You shrug Spencer came in holding two cups of coffee. “Thanks pretty boy.” Morgan smiled reaching for the cup “Oh it’s not for you it’s for Y/N/N.” Spencer smiled handing you a cup “Ooh thanks Spence.” You smile taking the cup. Morgan looked at Spencer, “You always buy me coffee.” He said pretending to be a little hurt. “Well, in the 8 years I’ve been at the FBI, you have only brought me coffee 8 times, and I have brought you coffee 16 times. Y/N/N however brought me coffee and donuts upon our first meeting therefore she has the advantage over you.” Spencer said and sipped his coffee. “Is that the way to your heart Spence? Buy you donuts?” You ask Spencer nodded smiling as the team give each-other ‘the look’. “Here’s that file you asked for.” You say to Hotch after it finally prints, it’s about 30 pages in total. “Reid... Can you?” Hotch asked Spencer sighed and took the file. “I’ll give you the DL.” He said “DL?” Hotch asked “Downlow, summary.” You say assuming that is what Spencer meant “I was trying to be cool.” Spencer mumbled “You are plenty cool kid.” Rossi laughed “If you want answers out of him, question his foster families and experiences there.” Spencer said, “It could trigger him, but it could also get a confession. Also, he was closest to his foster Mum 5. Debbie, who passed away recently.” He handed back the file. “Thanks Dr Reid.” Mac said as Hotch nods. “Dr Y/S/N, could I have a word with you later?” Hotch asks “Yeah, sure.” You smile, wondering what it is about. “Have I done something wrong?” You ask “No, far from it.” Hotch said returning the smile “Hotch just smiled, he must really like Dr Y/S/N.” Morgan said on the phone to Penelope “Chocolate thunder, I want all the details. Keep me posted. Ciao.” Penelope giggled having done her research on you. “Bye baby girl.” Morgan says and hangs up “Y/N could you maybe give Drew a shot? He doesn’t seem to pay attention to us.” Hotch asked as he came back with Mac. “Yeah sure.” You say getting up “Hotch, this guy is huge, he could crush her with one push.” Morgan said “She can handle it.” Mac said, “You ok Y/N?” You stretch your muscles. “Yeah I’m great, just doing some stretching because it helps keep my brain limber.” You say and stretch your legs. Everyone looks at you confused, except Spencer who looks at you in awe. “Nice socks.” Spencer smiled, noticing they are mismatched. “Thanks.” You smile at your polka dot one and stripes one. “What socks are you wearing?” You ask tying your shoelace of your trainers. “One of dinosaurs and one of pumpkins. The classics.” Spencer smiled as Mac handed you Drew’s file. “Do you want company in the room?” “Nah, I’m good but you can watch from behind the glass in case I need back up.” You wink as Spencer’s cheeks flush. “Are you coming?” You ask walking to the room. Spencer gets out of his chair and follows you, as you walk you share Maths theories with Spencer. “Did anyone get a word of that?” Emily asked “The last thing I understood was their socks discussion.” J.J said shrugging “I don’t even understand half of the words she uses, sometimes, between us I have to research what she means after hours.” Mac laughed as a forensics analyst handed him something. “Y/N/N!” He called just before you walked in the room “Yeah?” You smile “Fingerprints match his. We have him.” He says and you nod as Mac goes back and tells the rest of the teams. “We got the bastard.” Morgan said “Drew, I’m Doctor Y/S/N, I just have a few more questions.” You say sitting down as Spencer watches you from behind the glass, the guy is huge. “Shoot lady.” Drew smirked “Tell me about your childhood, and Debbie.” You say “There’s nothing to tell, I’m sure that file tells you everything you need to know.” Drew said, loosing the smirk instantly. “And what about Debbie?” You ask “She was my foster Mom, the only one who liked me. But she got sick.” Drew said “That must’ve been tough.” You say, “The doctor mis-diagnosed her, didn’t he? Made you feel rage.” “Yeah but I didn’t kill anyone over it.” Drew admitted “So, why are your fingerprints on the weapon found at the last scene?” You ask “Well, that escalated fast.” Spencer says as Morgan, Hotch and Mac come into the room. “They’re not mine.” Drew said to you “Oh, who do they belong to? The guy we have downstairs for drunk driving, or the guy in the room down the hall who shot an officer with an unlicensed weapon?” You ask innocently “Is she always like this? Sarcastic?” Hotch asked “She plays dumb, because she has a baby-face they assume she’s young and not really a detective, but she can usually get them talking once she’s snapped. Just wait.” Mac smirked “Yeah, it’s one of them lady. I’m clean.” Drew says “Clean as the blood on your right breast pocket?” You ask “It’s.. It’s not like that lady.” Drew stutters covering the blood. “I wonder if it matched the blood found out the crime scene… Could get a decent sample too.” You say putting your feet up on the desk, “But if you are so innocent, that could be wine.” “Shut up lady! Calm down!” Drew ends up shouting “This is calm, and it’s doctor. Sit down.” You say calmly, “Now let me test that wine for blood.” You say, “Take off the shirt.” You say giving him a bright pink one to wear. Everyone laughs from behind the glass, “Oh she’s good.” Hotch smirked You put gloves on and do a test on the shirt. “Didn’t realise you could get human blood wine, where did you buy it?” You ask once the test comes back positive for human blood. “Is there anything she doesn’t know?” Spencer asked Mac noticing you know your way around forensics “How to get a boyfriend.” Mac said “Okay okay, I did it! I did all of them. Lock me up.” Drew said “Aww, because you asked so nicely. Get up.” You say as Drew gets up but headbutts you and kicks your knees in the process as you crash to the floor. “You’ll regret that.” You say with a busted lip and put him in cuffs as everyone runs in. “You ok?” Spencer asked you “Oh yeah, that’s nothing.” You shrug, handing him over to Mac then go to the bathroom to clean up limping a little. “That’s nothing?” Spencer asked in a slightly high-pitched voice. “Once a suspect pushed her so hard, she broke her back, had therapy and she still showed up to work in a wheelchair.” Flack said “When was this?” Hotch asked “She was 21. She’s from a rough neighbourhood so she does herself proud every-day.” Mac said “Can we have a word in your office?” Hotch asked Mack who nodded, thinking he knows where this is going. “I’m going to check on Y/N/N.” Spencer said as he eventually found the bathroom. “Hey Y/N/N, you okay?” He asks softly as you come out “Yeah. Coming!” You say walking out all patched up. “You good?” You ask “I should be asking you; you had your head butted into. You should get it checked out.” Spencer said worried “First respondent said I’m good, and for someone I met today, you seem very worried about me, it’s almost adorable.” You admit biting your lip then wince forgetting you’d hurt yourself. “Fuck.” You grumble at your stupidity as Spencer laughs “Almost adorable?” Spencer asked with a raised eyebrow “What’s going on?” Morgan asked a little too loud as Rossi, J.J and Emily were watching “Ssssh.” Emily said putting a finger to Morgan’s lips “Okay, a lot adorable.” You say blushing In Mac’s office “No, absolutely not. She’s my best detective.” Mac shouted to Hotch as he kept shaking his head, “I’m not letting her go.” “You told Rossi she needed to get out there, I think this would be great for her.” Hotch shouted back “I meant settle down, get a boyfriend, have kids. Not leave New York.” Mac said “The change would suit her.” Hotch said, “And at the end of the day it’s her decision.” J.J knocks on the door, “Hotch, we’re all going to Shaw’s for a beer. You both coming?” She smiles “We’ll be there soon.” Mac said as J.J nods, closing the door on her way out. “Regardless of what you say, I’m making my offer.” Hotch said At the bar “Any idea what they were on about in there? Shouting match or what?” You say to Spencer. “No idea.” Spencer lied, “What do you want to drink?” “Just a pint of the house beer.” You say handing over the money. “What are you doing?” Spencer asked “Er, paying for my own drink because screw the gentlemen pays.” You say “Y/N/N, you got kicked and pushed to the floor today. I can buy you a beer for that.” Spencer said, “Two pints of the house beer please.” He told the barman who nods “I’ll buy some snacks then. Whatcha want Doctor?” You ask eyeing up the fries on the menu. “Whatever you’re having Doctor.” Spencer smiled as Hotch and Mac come in, Mac still looking cross and Hotch looking smug. “Mac, what’s up?” You ask him “Nothing.” Mack lied “Don’t bullshit me. We’re off the clock.” You say to him as Mac walks off and goes outside for some air, “Just some crisps and nuts please.” You tell the barman and pay then find a seat with Spencer “Dr Y/N, can we talk?” Hotch asked just as you sat down “Yeah sure.” You say and walk off with him, leaving your drink on the table “Oooh, it’s happening.” Emily said pouring herself a glass of wine from the bottle “What’s happening?” Spencer asked sipping his drink “We’re getting a new agent.” J.J smiled Spencer smiles to himself and sips his drink. “So, Y/N. I was talking to Mac, and as much as he really doesn’t want to let you go... I’d like to make you an offer anyway.” Hotch began “Offer?” You ask “We have a position for an agent at the FBI, with us. You are overqualified, but I think you’d like it. You understand the work, and even used our terminology on your case. We don’t see that every-day.” Hotch said, “Plus you wouldn’t be in New York every-day. We travel a lot, but we are a family.” You look at Mac, and your team there, then to the FBI. You have debated about leaving for a year, not because of the people but wanting a change, and this could be the one you need. You then look at Spencer, who looks a little sad. “What if she doesn’t take it?” Spencer asked “I think she will.” Morgan said sipping his drink Suddenly, you and Hotch walk back. “Well?” Emily asked “Looks like I need a new badge.” You say with a smile Everyone cheers. “I’m sorry to see you go Y/N/N but please visit.” Mac said “Course.” You smile. “Hey, can we have a word?” Spencer asked you You nod, confused. “Everyone wants words with me tonight.” You laugh as Spencer and you go outside “Do you think?” Rossi asked “Oh yeah. Pretty boy about to ask baby girl genius out.” Morgan said “Everything okay Spence?” You ask once you get outside. “Yeah, I mean… No… I mean, want to go out with me on a date?” Spencer blurted out then gasped. “Fuck. I didn’t mean to say that, but I did. But if you don’t want to that’s fine.” He says going through all the emotions of a menopausal woman at once. “Every time a pretty face comes pops up your brain turns into a god damn potato. Prentiss is right, my IQ lowers from 187 to 60.” You quickly grab his arm gently. “Hey... Let me answer before you get yourself in a tizz.” Spencer calms down at your touch, which he finds strange, not really liking being touched but when you do it, it makes him feel, safe almost. “Okay... okay...” Spencer says looking at you “Yes.” You smile and kiss his cheek. “Want to sneak off and grab some pizza? I have a lot of packing to do. Hotch wants me to start in two weeks.” Spencer nods smiling as you do just that. “Where are the pretty people at?” Morgan asked noticing you’ve been a while. “I don’t think they’re coming back.” Rossi winked. “Ooooh.” Emily and J.J smirked “So, what pizza can I get you Spence?” You smile. “I’m going for four cheese.” “That’s fine with me.” Spencer smiled at you, “Does this count as a date?” “If you want it to.” You say and place your order “I do.” Spencer smiled “Me too.” You say and pay for the pizza “I should pay half.” Spencer said feeling bad “You��re good, you can always buy ice cream if you want.” You assure him Spencer nods, as you walk around New York eating pizza. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, but would you like to come to my flat and have a nightcap?” You suggest as you finish your ice cream “I’d like that.” Spencer smiled, “But I’d like to do one thing first.” He said having a desire to kiss you there and then. “And that is?” You ask Spencer puts his hands on your cheeks and kisses you deeply. “Oh.” You giggle, pulling away after a few moments Spencer giggles too, “Told you it’s safer to kiss.” You walk to your flat, and let Spencer in. It’s fairly small with a double bed, en-suite, a kitchen and a small library. “I don’t normally have people back to my place on the first date. But I think there’s something special about you Dr Reid.” You say locking the door once Spencer walks in and takes his shoes off. “There’s something special about you too Dr Y/S/N.” Spencer says, “Can I take a seat?” He asks gesturing to your two-seater sofa “Of course. You okay with whiskey or scotch on the rocks?” You ask getting two glasses down “Scotch please.” Spencer said looking at your bum when your back was turned You bring the glasses over and sit next to him, “Can I tell and ask you something Spence?” “Of course Y/N/N.” Spencer says, “Thanks.” He says taking the glass “It’s more of an observation, but I’ve noticed you don’t like physical touch, but when I’ve done it, you go from tense, to relaxed in seconds. Why?” You ask sipping your scotch “I feel safe around you, and I don’t feel like that around many people.” Spencer admitted “Do you want to kiss again?” You blurt out and finish your drink quickly in-case Spencer says no “I do.” Spencer smiled and finished his drink and pulled you in for a kiss

After a few more drinks, you end up having sex with Spencer.

Spencer pulled out of you gently and wrapped the condom up and put it in the bin. “That was amazing.” He says as you cuddle into his arms glad Morgan slipped him that condom earlier. Even though you were on the pill, Spencer wanted to be extra safe. You nod agreeing, “Aren’t your team wondering where you are?” as you trace little patterns on his chest with your finger. Spencer checks his phone, as a text comes through from Hotch ‘Plane leaves at 2PM tomorrow, as Mac and I have some paperwork to sort out for Y/N’s transfer. Meet us at the Police Station at 12PM.’ He then shows the text to you. You nod, “Least we don’t have to be in early.” As Mac texts you that you need to be in at 12 to sign the papers and get a new badge. Spencer smirks, as Morgan texts him, ‘You got laid didn’t you pretty boy?’ and replies, ‘Yep.’ And turns his attention back to you. “You comfy?” He asks wrapping the duvet over your shoulder You nod, “Stay the night if you want.” “Doctor’s orders?” Spencer asked “Doctor’s orders.” You yawn and fall asleep as does Spencer. Taglist: @pumpkin-goob , @jpegjade , @andiebeaword , @hopebaker , @hotchsbabygirl , @hercleverboy , @cupcake525 , @gubetube , @aperrywilliams , @cosmic-psychickitty , @marleyhotchner , @gubler-me-up , @trina2323 , @goldentournesol , @jenna-jd , @reidgraygubler , @g0ldengubler , @gcblers , @peachpitfics

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds fic #csi new york #aaron hotchner #donald flack #mac taylor #david rossi #spencer reid #jj #emily prentiss #derek morgan #penelope garcia #spencer reid fluff #spencer x reader #my fics

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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years

Text

chapter eleven: the end of the world

The next morning was a cold, gray, and soggy one, but Sam had no intention on returning to Louie's apartment for another round that day: she had already packed her things in the back seat and she nestled down in the front seat with her arms folded across her chest and the lapels of her jacket pulled up to her ears. She had no hood or something to cover her head but she wished for one. She didn't want to be seen. Louie himself meanwhile, locked the door behind him and he headed down the steps. She looked on at him as he rounded the front end of the car and opened the door. She sighed through her nose as he climbed into the front seat.

“You okay?” he asked her in a low voice, and she nodded her head.

“Look—I was thinking about this last night before I fell asleep, too,” he started, “neither of us mean to inflame or kick up any old wounds with anyone. We're just—fooling around, messing around, you know?”

She gazed out the window right as he said that. She had nothing to say to that.

“If either of us made you uncomfortable—and I can tell we did—we didn't mean to. I didn't mean to, and I know Alex didn't mean to, either. And for that, I want to personally apologize to you for it.”

Sam never moved from her spot in the seat next to him. She couldn't hardly stop thinking about any of what went down the night before, such that it almost brought a tear to her eye.

“Also—I, uh—” he stammered and then he cleared his throat, “—hate to tell you this, but I'm kinda out of money.”

She turned her attention over to him and frowned.

“What do you mean you're out of money?” she demanded.

“I'm out of money,” he repeated, “well, for now anyway. Remember what I said yesterday, I had enough for breakfast and a cab?”

“Oh, right, right.” She hesitated. “So what's this mean?”

“Well, I have a full tank of fuel to start with,” he stated, to which she frowned and scoffed at that.

“Louie, we're not driving back to Elsinore from here—it's too far.” She was scorn.

“But the train already left, though,” he pointed out. “It's kind of overkill to fly on down to Elsinore, too.”

She sighed through her nose again.

“Don't really feel like driving through the valley, either,” he added.

“Yeah, it's boring as hell,” she said in a soft voice.

“Boring as hell and still hot as fuck, too,” he said, “at least here we have a bit of leeway with the San Francisco fog. Seven hours of nothin'.” He paused for a second. “We could take the coast.”

“That's longer, though,” she pointed out.

“Nicer, though,” he insisted.

“True. It's way nicer, actually.”

“Bet you've missed the Pacific Coast, too,” he said.

“I have—it's one of the many things I haven't been able to do like at all. Especially when I was growing up out here.”

“Really?” Louie was genuinely taken aback by that.

“Yeah.”

“Well, let's—” He set his hand on the ignition key and turned it. “Let's.”

Sam strapped herself in and Louie shook his head of hair about a bit.

“One thing I really wanted to do with Zelda,” he started again as he pulled on the parking lever, “when we were together was go on a road trip with her somewhere. I always considered driving from Providence down to some place like D.C., or go all the way down to like West Virginia. The two of us on a trip together and just hanging out together.”

“What kept you from doing it?” she asked him.

“Touring and making albums—and dealing with record company horse shit in her case—and in my case it was living a double life. There was no way I could do it, not with my other life in full swing.”

They pulled ahead and began up the block, around the cemetery and towards the block on the other side.

“So—I haven't really taken the Pacific Coast Highway much from my place so just kind of—like—bear with me here,” he sputtered.

“It's okay, it's okay.”

Louie glanced over at her at one point as they rolled up to a stoplight.

“You know—and I'm being perfectly honest with you here, Sam—I'm a little intimidated by you,” he confessed.

“You?” she asked him.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I dunno,” he replied with a shake of his head, “but there's just something about you that completely intimidates me. Like it's hard for me to maintain composure when I'm near you.”

“There's no reason to be, though,” she promised him.

“But I feel it anyways, though. It could be because you made a bold move in moving across the country and back again, but I can't really say for sure.”

“Funny you say that 'cause you did that,” she pointed out.

“True. But see, you weren't living a double life like I was.”

“I mean, I kinda am now,” she assured him.

“How so?”

“Joey doesn't know about Bill. He also doesn't know that I'm hanging out with you guys, either. For the record, Bill doesn't know that I'm hanging out with you guys, either. It's like a triangle of sorts with me come to think of it.”

“A delta,” said Louie.

“A delta?”

“Yeah. You know the Greek letter delta?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah!”

“Apparently in the realm of science, it's symbolic of change. Like change in temperature or heat.”

“How do you know that?”

“I dunno if she's shown you this but Morgan—you know, Morgan from the Cherry Suicides—has this old chemistry textbook back at her place. She found it in the garbage believe it or not.”

“Something wrong about that,” Sam declared.

“Oh, yeah. Unless it's actually trash, books do not belong in the trash. But yeah, she found it and I just happened to prop it open one day, and I read a tidbit in a chapter about equations at one point.”

“Huh. Bill has a bunch of old books at his place—mostly old literature, but it's worth a peek, though. I keep meaning to crack them open but I'm not sure where to begin.”

The light turned green and Louie lunged ahead on the street. The clouds hung even lower over them as he merged lanes and they headed for the 880 Freeway. To the right of them was the stretch of gray waters that made up the very Bay itself.

“If you ever come back up here this way,” he started again, “you know you're in a car on the P.C.H., you've got to cross the Golden Gate Bridge at some point. There's just—something majestic about it, even if you've lived here your whole life like the five of us. Well, four of us, anyway, unless Chuck was telling a fib about where he was born. This will take us right by Santa Clara and down to the interchange in San Jose, which'll in turn take us all the way down the coastline to the City of Angels.”

Sam nodded her head and she peered out the windshield to the gray overhead. To think that the assumption with the California coast was all bright sunshine and infinite beaches: it made her laugh the more in which she thought about it.

“What's even the deal with him, anyway?” Louie asked her out of the blue.

“Who, Bill?” She looked over at him with her eyebrows knitted together and he took a glimpse over at her.

“Yeah.”

“Well,” she began, “I mean, you were sitting right there when I called Chuck and told him what was going on.”

“Pff, how could I forget? But what I'm asking is—is there like a time limit with him? Like you signed a marriage contract plus a prenup but surely someone over at the school has to figure that out at some point because it's totally illegal. Setting you up like that and forcing you into something that you had no desire to get into and then threatening a whole bunch of bullshit with you like locking you in your room and forbidding you from going out and visiting people.”

“Well, when I first came out here and I spoke to Marla over the phone—you know, she's been trying to get a job and she finally did with Belinda up in Albany. But she went to the school and she told them that he was still on the payroll. He got fired, Louie, but there was some weird glitch of some sort so he still got paid and he got paid a lot of money, too. So he was able to afford that large house and care for his daughters, such that he enlisted them in a private school.”

“So he loses his paycheck, he's fucked, basically,” he followed along.

“Yeah. Unless he got something to help him out when we weren't looking, he's probably got to pull the girls out of school and sell the house.”

“And what happens to you if and when that happens?” he asked her.

“I—” She froze. Louie glanced over at her with his eyebrows raised. “I—don't know. Oh, wait!” She snapped her fingers.

“What's that?”

“My mom's moving down to the Southland soon. Where exactly is another question, though. She might be going out to Catalina or she might be going to San Pedro, I dunno.”

“Or you can go back to Joey,” he pointed out. “You know, make things easier on your mom. It's another cross country, for sure, but I feel it'd be more beneficial to take that risk again and go with him rather than put extra pressure on your mom like that. But that's my opinion, though. You do whatever you want.”

“There should be a way to null it, too,” she added.

“Yeah, being in a car with another dude,” he joked, and that brought a laugh out of her.

Within time, signs for the interchange came into their view and Louie took the next exit which looped around and met up with the Pacific Coast Highway. Right as they matched up with the pavement, the clouds over them swirled about like the old feathers or the wisps of paint mixed into the wash for a watercolor project. She looked out to the low hills off to the right, all of them different shades of green and yellow. All of them still that rich green despite the late summer. All of them still rich dark green despite the yellow dead grass everywhere. The clouds overhead beckoned rain but at the same time waned away from the coast line.

Such a strange position to be in as was the state of California, but that pocket there, the hills that followed her and Louie all along the highway on that lengthy seven hour drive, reminded her of that special place.

The quiet place. The spot that she and Charlie had found together and the place where she and Joey visited during their final days together.

“This is almost like the precious part of California,” she noted aloud.

“Nah, the eastern Sierra is the precious part of California in my opinion,” he said. “There's something lonely and ancient about the eastern Sierra Nevadas.”

“This whole area here reminds me of a place that Charlie and I found together when they were making the Stormtroopers of Death album,” she followed up.

“Really?”

“It was like this little nook in the trees down the street from the studio,” she explained as she returned her attention to him. “We called it 'the quiet place' because you go in there and it's like completely untouched in comparison to everything else. You walk down the street and you have to duck underneath the trees as you're going in there.”

“Sounds like something you keep a secret,” he remarked.

“I told Joey about it, though,” she told him. “I imagine upstate being covered in places like that.”

“Places you go to that no one else knows about,” he followed along. “This part of California and the eastern Sierra is like that, too. Lots of nooks and crannies and what have you. Like there's a place outside of Salinas—I'll have to show it to you when we get there. It's closer to Monterey Bay, though, which means we'll have to leave this highway, though.”

“It's okay—it'll get us over to the ocean.”

“The ocean makes everything better,” he remarked.

The highway took them down past Morgan Hill and then Gilroy: at one point the road turned towards Monterey Bay; off in the distance loomed those cold dark gray waters that seemed to stretch on forever. The view enlarged as they came closer and closer to the next turn off and the 156: Louie told her it would take them to Highway 1, which would in turn take them to the place he had in mind. At that point, the clouds increased and everything grew dark despite it being almost ten o'clock in the morning.

“While we're over here, you don't mind spending a little money for breakfast, do you?” he asked her at one point.

“Not at all. I was just gonna ask you if you're hungry at all.”

He showed her a grin in response, and then he pointed out the windshield to the next sign up ahead: the town of Castroville as well as the turn off to Highway 1.

“So anyway, this place—it's over by the Salinas River, which eventually heads out to the ocean,” he explained. “When I first met Zelda, and I was waffling on if I wanted to go with her or stay with my concurrent girlfriend and our baby, I always came here. It always helped me clear my head to drive down here when the baby fell asleep and Zelda was back in Rhode Island. I remember staying down here for a full afternoon once. Like I didn't get back home until well after the sun went down. Needless to say, I almost got in trouble for that.”

She laughed at that, and he gave his long smooth hair a little toss back from his face and the side of his neck.

“And the highway will take us all the way down the coastline, too. Take us down to Big Sur and all around the coast, all the way down to San Simeon and Cambria, and then Morro Bay, and then that'll take us over to San Luis Obispo and that's where we meet up with 101 again.”

“And that'll take us all the way back to L.A., too.”

He nodded his head at that, and then Sam cleared her throat.

“I don't think I get Alex,” she confessed.

“A lot of people don't,” he assured her with a straight face.

“It's funny, he said the exact same thing to me,” she recalled. “Word for word.”

“Well, because it's true! A lot of people don't get Alex. That kid is a bundle of contradictions, many of which are not for the faint of heart. I've only known him for a few years but can confirm that, though. And what's mind blowing to me is he's completely aware of it, too. I remember the first time I got into an in-depth conversation with him a few years ago when Testament first formed and we were still Legacy. Sam, I never had such a worse headache.”

“Well, like. For example, when we were in Germany and he and I spent a whole day together—”

“And he missed the train?” he finished for her. “Chuck told me.”

“Yeah, he missed the train and he got upset with me when I tried to grab his attention and get him to come onboard. Then the fireball happened and he realized the error of his ways and we patched it up. And then, you know last night, he opened up the wound over Cliff with me.”

“The fireball happened and what exactly did he do there?”

“I put my arms around him and held him close to me,” she explained. “Wept like a baby right into my chest.”

“He probably liked to feel your chest,” he pointed out.

“What makes you think that?”

“Sam—he's nineteen, soon to be twenty. When I was nineteen, that was all I ever thought about were touching and feeling boobs and clits. We're horny bastards at that age, and I would imagine that he is especially, too. Alex is bit of a nerd—it's the whole thing about how girls don't really talk to nerds.”

“But he's a guitar player, though. I would imagine the girls getting all hot and bothered to guitar players.”

“Not Alex and not our crowds, no. He's like the thinking man's guitarist. I'm sure you've seen him before a television.”

“Oh, yeah, he's all over news reports whenever they come on. Well, I was with you guys in Boston and he and Greg were right before the TV in the room there.”

“Oh, yeah, that's right! But still—at the end of the day, even with his large brain and social scientist parents, he's still a guy. And he probably wanted to feel something soft and warm and comfy.” Louie glimpsed over at her. “You said he was scared, right?”

“Yeah. It was right when that big fireball went up. He just—came over to me and burst into tears at the sight of it. I held him so close to me and I let him weep into my chest.”

“Well—if you see him next time, really pay attention to his behavior towards you,” he advised her. “If he's actually sincere with you, then it's probably because he's confused and his inexperience is showing. If not, like if he gets close to you again, then don't bother with him for a second longer.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I'm saying is he either wants you for you or he's using you,” he explained. “I wish I could tell you more about it, but I'm not Alex, though. I can only tell you what I know from being in between two women for a couple of years.” He shook his hair again and then raked his fingers through one side: outside, the signs for Castroville emerged from the scraggly shrubs on either side of the road.

“I imagine him being soft and sweet, though,” he confessed in a low voice, such that it took her aback to hear that.

“Is—there something about him that you see with him?” she sputtered out as she took a glimpse over at him with a bewildered look on her face. Louie bowed his head and cleared his throat.

“Let me ask you a question,” he said as he leaned his head closer to her.

“Okay.”

“Does it bother you at all—” She could tell that he chose his words with care. “—when a guy finds another guy attractive and it's obvious he's not gay at all?”

She opened her mouth to say something to that, but no sound came out.

“Take as much time as you need to answer that, too,” he assured her, “—I asked Zelda this once and she really had to think about it.”

She thought of all the times that she made art while in class, and she thought of the time that she drew Marla in her journal. It wasn't until she really got to know Marla as well as Belinda when she began to see them as a couple of beautiful women. Indeed, as she thought about their willingness to help her out even while she had posted up out on the West Coast, the more she wondered if the whole thing extended further than their smooth New Yorker skin. Further than Marla's colorful hair and further than Belinda's soft doll like features. There was something more to Alex, much like there was something more to Louie in the seat there next to her, and there had to be something more to herself as well. More to them all, and the fact that she and Louie both had a quiet place, a place where they went that fell on blind eyes, was enough to give her a clue.

The hidden spots and everything in between. It was only the beginning.

And thus it only made sense to her to realize that it resided with everyone, including Alex himself.

“No,” she replied after a long while. “No, it doesn't bother me at all.”

“Okay,” Louie proclaimed as they rolled into Castroville. “Sometimes I look at Alex and I think, 'god, he's a really beautiful boy. I imagine being the perfect cuddler, like he must be adept to snuggling and feeling soft underneath a bunch of blankets.' Not necessarily sexy, although he does have a nice chest and thighs.”

“Nice arms, too,” she said in a soft voice.

“Yeah, he's got those really lanky strong guitar player arms.”

“Hey, you've got nice arms, too, Lewis,” she declared.

“Drummer arms.” He shook his right elbow about: his muscles were tight and sinewy.

“Reminds me of Joey's arms,” she said.

“Oh, yeah, that's right! He's a drummer, too.”

“Drummer and a hockey player.”

Louie took the first exit off into that small town and Sam volunteered to buy the both of them cups of coffee and a couple of scones for themselves: she took a chocolate one where he took a peach one for himself.

Within time, they climbed back into the car and Louie guided her over to the spot in question, right down by the Salinas River and where it widened out before it reached the ocean in small narrow fashion. It was there that the shades of yellow that followed them out of the Bay Area returned to that rich dark green that reminded her of New York. The space in the forest outside of the studio where she and Charlie ventured to together, and then she and Joey visited under a blanket of pure white snow.

“We all have a quiet place,” she declared.

“We really do,” Louie said as he sipped on his coffee.

“We all have a house and a home, even if it isn't physical,” she said.

“Yeah, we all have an attic. We all have secrets. We all have things that we show to everyone.”

“We all have things that we've buried—skeletons in the closet,” she muttered.

“And we all have a quiet place,” he added with a raise of his eyebrows.

He took the next right turn, one that brought them down the Salinas River and away from civilization. All the while, the ponderosa pines stretched high up into the sky around them, all up into those low dark swirling clouds that enveloped them in a blanket of coziness. Soon, the pavement gave way to gravel and broken pieces of pavement itself; and every so often, Sam spotted a series of shrubs all over the places, shrubs with little light pink and pearly white flowers.

“The rhododendrons are still in bloom I see,” Louie remarked.

“I don't think I've actually seen those before,” she confessed; the whole scenery made her think of the hole in the wall back in Ithaca. “They only grow here on the coast and in northern Nevada, we have all manner of pines and trees but nothing like this, though. Nothing as delicate and fluffy as those, though.”

“You guys get oleanders down in the Southland. I've seen those a number of times, they're quite lovely.”

“Oh, yeah. Only drawback with oleanders is they grow like weeds down there. Which is absolutely amazing to me because they're very poisonous.”

“At least it's not strychnine,” he told her. “Strychnine or—better yet deadly nightshade.” And Joey entered her mind right as that final word left his lips. “I don't even know if strychnine grows out here,” he continued.

“Yeah, I don't know, either...” Her voice trailed off at that. She thought about Joey and what he was doing right at that moment. They were still touring over in Europe and they were about to drop their brand new album in the meantime as well. If nothing else when she got back to Lake Elsinore, she had to pick up a copy of that.

She would have to search about for that familiar lettering: she knew it when she saw it.

“There should be a garden somewhere,” he continued, “one full of poison plants.”

“The most dangerous garden in the world,” she declared.

“We should literally call it that.”

“'We'?”

“'They', I should say,” he corrected himself; before them, the little road led to that wide part of the river. Big lush ponderosas as well as oak trees with large wide green leaves the size of dinner plates and tall narrow trees with high canopies surrounded them.

“I was just gonna say—do you really wanna go there, Louie?”

“Unless you wanna.” He tugged on the parking lever and switched off the car. “I ain't gonna do it unless you want to do it.”

“We gotta be careful, though,” she pointed out.

“Oh, absolutely. That's something that's just not for the faint of heart. The quintessential declaration of 'you can look but don't touch'. Might wanna throw in a 'for the love of god' in there, too. 'You can look but for the love of god, do not touch.'”

“'Welcome to Shelley and Clemente's poison garden,'” she declared with a gesture of her hand, “the most dangerous garden on Earth. We've got everything from strychnine to belladonna to oleanders to—whatever else we can find. Have it all together under one umbrella. You and me—we could retire off the profits.”

“You think people would actually pay money to see that?” he asked her, stunned.

“Yeah. People pay money to see the weirdest shit, Louie.”

“Case in point!” He gestured to himself.

“You guys aren't weird,” she assured him.

“Yes, we are. We're as weird as weird can possibly be.” He sipped on his coffee a bit more and then he unbuckled his seat belt. “Anyways, this is where I come to clear my head. I call this place 'the end of the world' 'cause it's far removed away from anything. It's only ten miles back to Castroville but—still.”

They both climbed out of there in unison; Sam peered up to the gray sky overhead and she took in the smell of the salt as it filtered in through the trees before them. The Salinas River flowed right next to the small stretch of gravel and partially collapsed pavement.

“This is like the perfect place for a poison garden,” she told him as he led her to the soft dark river bank.

“Oh, yeah, this lush soil here. Look up the plants and see what kind of environment they thrive in.”

“I do know oleanders like heat,” she told him, “it's why they're everywhere in the L.A. area and in the south, too.”

“Have a special greenhouse for those guys,” he continued as he held his cup of coffee close to his chest. “Kinda clean up the pavement behind us a bit so—Skolnick can drive around on it on his—golf—cart.”

“Shelley and Clemente's poison garden—featuring Alex Skolnick's golf cart.” She laughed at that and he laughed with her.

“Can you imagine Alex on a golf cart?” he asked her, and then he held out his arms, “'oh! Oh god! Oh god here we go!'” And he lowered his voice to where he almost matched Alex's tone.

“Four wheelin' on a golf cart,” she laughed some more.

“Hey, Alex! Take it easy, little man!” Louie lowered his voice to a near whisper. “There's stuff in here that'll kill you faster than you can say your middle name!” He shook his head and chuckled some more, and then he took another sip of his coffee.

“So what's the quiet place like?” he asked her as they neared the river's edge.

“In upstate?”

“Yeah.”

“It's about like this, without the river, of course. There was another spot that Joey and I went to when Stormtroopers were in Ithaca a few summers ago—right by the water's edge at the one lake—one of the Finger Lakes that's there. It kind of reminds me of that, like I'm getting the same feeling as that.”

They stopped at the water's edge and Sam leaned out a little bit for a view beyond the trees. The stretch of rich black and gray that was the Pacific Ocean, a mere stone's throw up ahead of them. Even though Louie had a different opinion, Sam couldn't help but feel that there was something prehistoric about this part of the river; something precious and untouched.

“Sometimes, when it's a bit sunnier out,” he started again, “I'll kneel down to the waters here and search around for insects and rocks and stuff. There's a lot of bizarre life here that's endemic only to this part of the river and as far as I know, the whole state.”

“Kind of like a 'keep it forever' sort of thing,” she noted.

“Exactly, right. Keep this whole place hidden away from the world so as to protect it from everything and everyone. Eastern Sierra is the same way. Exact same way.” He sipped on his coffee once again.

“C'mon, I think it's gonna rain—I feel it.”

They returned to the car and sure enough, as Louie fired it up again and they made a turn back at the dead end and proceeded back up the pavement, the first large drops of rain pattered on the roof and the windshield. It would be some time before they reached the Highway 1 once again, but once they did, Sam wondered as to how far they could go without seeing another sliver of civilization between Monterey Bay and the next spot on the coast.

To the left of them stood the high sea cliffs in all their withered and eroded glory, strong and high over their heads, much stronger and higher than the buildings back in New York City or Los Angeles or even San Francisco itself. To the right stood the ocean: the gray and black waters that went on forever into the horizon. Empty and cold, and cradled by the clouds over them. Everything gray and black.

Every so often, Sam peered down to the waves down below as they crashed on the rocks. She looked to the left once again: every so often in the cliffs, a minute ponderosa jutted out from the cracks as if it gasped for the fresh oceanic air. The coast line seemed to stretch on for infinity before them. She glanced over at Louie and the serene expression on his face.

He was her drummer in that moment.

She turned her attention back out to the ocean beyond them as they went around a corner. Maybe it was the lack of anything discernible on the cliffs or the fact that the ocean appearead so endless beyond them, but something about all of this made her squirm in her seat.

Louie's occasional peers down to the gages behind the steering wheel didn't help, either.

An eternity in such a small pocket of the coastline. They really were at the end of the world.

A sign emerged on the side of the road but she had no idea what it read.

“We probably should've stopped for gas in Castroville,” he told her at one point.

“Why, are we low?” she asked him as her heart skipped a beat.

“Sorta. I hope. I don't really know the economy on this thing—I don't really pay attention to that sort of thing.”

They rounded another corner and Louie drummed his fingers on the steering wheel: that time they had a full view of the ocean. The grand view of the waves as they welcomed her to the end of the world, and they were about to run out of gas as far as she knew right then.

Another sign emerged from behind the guard rail and that time she saw that they were ten miles from the central part of the coast.

“Mother fucker!” he spat under his breath.

“It's okay—we're almost to San Simeon,” she told him.

“Yeah, I know—I'm still kicking myself, though. We'll probably gonna coast there the rate we're going at right at the moment.”

“Seriously?” she demanded, shocked.

“Yeah!”

She closed her eyes and she thought of Joey over in Europe. The only thing that seemed worse than losing Cliff to a bus accident that was far beyond her control was her being stranded on the Central California coast and not being able to tell anyone. But then again, they were close to the next piece of civilization.

“As long as we don't drive into the ocean, I think we'll be fine,” she told him.

“We don't drive into a—poison garden,” he muttered as they went around yet another bend in the road: the cliffs soon began to lower away to the sight of more ponderosas and scraggly shrubs.

“There's no poison gardens here,” she assured him.

“You sure? 'Cause like—there's a bend here—and another here—it's like this.”

They rounded a corner as it wound around the coastline: the road dipped inward into a gentle curve and they doubled back to the next crevice in the landscape.

“Sit—” He pointed to the left. “—down—” He pointed to the right. “—sit—down—sit—down—poison garden.” He pointed straight ahead at that last part and she chuckled at that.

Sure enough, the car sputtered a bit right outside of San Simeon: Hearst Castle rose up off in the distance but they had no time to visit right at that moment.

“Told ya we'd have to coast,” he told her as he guided the car to the gas station right there at the edge of town. The engine sputtered again and died right as they coasted into the first spot near the driveway. He let out a low whistle and leaned back in his seat.

“That was close,” she remarked.

“Yeah, I'll say,” he breathed, and then he turned his attention to her. “A twenty'll get us to the heart of Lost Angles and it'll get me up the Grapevine and into the Central Valley.”

“You're not gonna hang out there with me?”

“I can't,” he told her. “We're supposed to make a new album ourselves.”

“Oh, yeah, that's right!” She handed him a twenty dollar bill, followed by another which would ensure him a ride back home to the Bay Area.

Once they were filled up, they returned to the road.

“I don't know if Hearst Castle is even open,” Louie confessed.

“I don't, either. It's getting kind of late in the day, too.”

“Yeah, exactly!”

Some more coastline and they found their way down into Solvang and then San Luis Obispo where they were met with the Pacific Coast Highway yet again, and they moved away from the end of the world. So much that she wanted to show to Joey. And so much that she wished Cliff could see again, especially that one stretch of the highway where everything felt so finite and endless at the same time.

They wound their way through the low foothills and yet another unknown pocket of California, until they skirted the outside of Santa Barbara followed by Carpinteria.

The waves down below thrashed even more as they wound along the cliffs towards Ventura. At that point, the sky began to darken with the setting sun on the other side of the blanket of clouds overhead.

“Part of me wants to go down to the beaches here,” Louie confessed to her. “Like—take a walk on one of the beaches here. Yet another thing I wanted to do with Zelda when we were together.”

“We don't have towels, though,” she pointed out.

“And it's cold, too!”

“Right!”

The highway led them into Camarillo and then the heart of Los Angeles, where it ended and became the 210. At that point, night was about to fall over them, and the feeling of dread washed over Sam herself. She knew that Bill would be furious by the mere sight of her walking through that front door without any sort of explanation.

Louie drove them down to Corona and then the hills which cradled Lake Elsinore away from the rest of the region. The clouds had finally dissipated and gave way to a violet and orange sky overhead. Such a great length of time to be in that car with him and a part of her wished they had more time.

More time together. More time to relish over the idea of the poison garden.

But that time was all they had right then and there, much like that stretch of highway that overlooked the ocean.

She guided him to the house by the lake and within time, she recognized the neighborhood in question.

He pulled up to the curb and she sighed through her nose at the realization. Her head spun a bit from having driven such a great distance but at least they could come to a stop on a steady piece of ground. She looked on at the house, with its windows dark and the shades pulled despite the fact that it wasn't that late in the evening.

“Do you need any help?” he offered her, to which she shook her head. Instead, she sighed through her nose again and she climbed out to fetch her things out of the back seat. She decided to give her mother a ring later that night when Bill and the girls had gone to bed, that is if they already did. She hoisted her overnight bag over her shoulder and she held her purse close to her body as she reached the driver's side window. He rolled it down so she could speak to him one last time.

“Louie?”

He leaned closer to the window with his eyebrows raised.

“Thank you,” she said to him in a soft voice, and he showed her a sweet smile.

“It's my pleasure,” he told her with a wink. “Poison garden.”

“Poison garden,” she echoed him with a smile on her face.

“Also—”

She stopped and he gestured for her to come on closer to him.

“Don't worry, I'll—I'll talk to him,” he vowed to her.

“Who?”

“You know. The little man.”

“Oh, him!” She stopped right in her tracks. “What for?”

“Just to see if he's alright. One thing I've noticed about him when he fucks up something—he's real hard on himself. So if it's kinda messed between the two of you, I'll check in on him. I'll check in on him anyways.”

“Good plan,” she told him. “You be safe going back up, alright?”

“You be safe, too. Poison garden!”

Sam stepped away from the car and she turned back to the house, still in one place. Louie drove away right then and he disappeared around the corner. Another seven hours and he'd be back up there. She returned to the front door of the house and she opened it with ease. Silence.

She knew that he wouldn't do it. Sam shook her head and she bowed upstairs to her room.

#fanfic #fanfiction #chapter 11 #book four #souls of black #fever in fever out #fever in fever out fanfic #testament fanfic #testament band #testament #louie clemente #oc tag #long reads #friendship #also on ao3 #also on wattpad #slice of life #writing #text

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straightouttaneptune · 4 years

Text

Partner

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warning: FLOOF, everyone except Tasha and Y/N is stupid, swearing, guns, fighting, that’s it bb!

Summary: Natasha is assigned a mission with an Agent she doesn’t know. So, she ends up dragging a civilian who she assumes is her partner into a highly-violent mission.

A/N: AHHHHH EVERYONE ITS MY FIRST FIC IN MONTHS IM BACK THANK YOU ALL FOR THE LOVE AND THE PATIENCE!!

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Y/N Y/L/N. You were just another citizen of the planet earth, not an inhuman, not an assassin, not a super, not a mutant and certainly not an Avenger. You grew up in an everyday household, went to school, had decent grades, led a good career, and overall life.

So... how did you get here right now? To know this, we have to rewind time, to around a month ago.

-11:00 am, SHIELD office 09

"Agent Romanoff, sorry to do this to you." Nick Fury looked over at Natasha apologetically, while she herself remained stoic. "But you know that the rest of your teammates can be... unpredictable." To this, she let out a small chuckle.

"It's not a big deal, I know they can be dramatic." She slid the file on the table, opening it to examine the details of the mission. "Wait, this is a doubles mission?" The surprise was evident in her voice, as she assumed that this would be a one-woman job.

"She's a beginner agent. Don't worry, she's just there for support." Fury stated casually as if he didn't leave out one of the most relevant information.

"Right, okay, can I meet her?"

"No. She's out at the moment."

"How do you expect me to work with someone I've never met?" Natasha inquired, confused beyond words.

"There's a description! And everything!" Fury defended himself, pointing at the file she held in her hands. At that moment, Natasha could see why he was the leader of the Avengers. Sighing in defeat, she retreated back to the training area.

Y/H/C hair, Y/E/C eyes, around her age, pretty, it probably wouldn't be hard to find this partner. And just like that, her mind wandered away from the mission, to her training regime for the day.

-5:00 pm, Y/N's apartment

"C'mon, Y/N! It'll be so fun, I'm telling you!" Your old uni friend pleaded over the phone, while you balanced the pros and cons of going out tonight.

"Mm, I don't know... I mean, I was going to have a Star Wars marathon." You pouted, glancing at your TV wantingly. Oh, what you'd give to cuddle up with a tub of ice cream tonight.

"Y/N, come on. You can't just couch potato every day." You ran out of excuses to give, reluctantly agreeing to her offer.

"God, I haven't been to a club in forever." You rummaged through your closet, only finding office clothes and comfy hoodies. In the very back, though, you knew that there was a little skimpy dress you used to wear back when you were in university. "... Fuck it. It's just one night."

You closed the door to your apartment with your heart hammering in your chest. You hadn't dressed like this in what felt like forever, you almost forgot how good you looked. Whatever happens, you had your trusty taser gun hidden in your thigh-high boots.

Feeling like an utter and complete boss b*tch, you entered the booming club with your friends in tow. "Y/N! I knew you still had it in ya." You rolled your eyes at one of your friends' comments, but your heart secretly swelled at her words.

The start of the night was amusing, but as time flew by, your buddies were swooped away by unknown guys and girls, leaving you to drink all alone by the bar. Of course, it wasn't like you didn’t have dance requests and numbers asked, but none of them really interested you.

Natasha had arrived at the club a little later than you did, clad in a spy-dress and spy-shoes with various weapons hidden underneath, inside, wherever there was space. The infamous Strucker was reported to be here in this club tonight, but first, she needed to find her associate.

It wasn't hard to find you, as she assumed that an Agent would be somewhere that was easy to see, unlike the dance floor. So the bar. And luckily, by the bar, there was only one woman who fit the description given to her. You.

To her surprise, you were way more distracting than she had expected. Your short dress hugged your curves just right, your effortless movements were eye-catching and elegant. And your smile, god. The way you smiled at the bartender made her wish she was him.

But at that moment, she was an Agent of SHIELD, and she had a job to do.

You were just about to order another glass of your drink when a hand was laid on your shoulder. You looked back to see if it was another flirter, but was taken aback by the gorgeous woman standing there. She had her calloused hand on your shoulder, yet her eyes were not on you, scanning the crowd.

"Uhm, can I help-"

"How did you get here?" Natasha recited her code-word, to double-check if it really was her assigned partner.

"With my friends...?" You wondered if you were drunker than you thought, and hallucinating this beautiful woman in front of you, asking weird questions.

But the problem was, "With my friends" was the actual code-word.

"Good. Agent Natasha Romanoff. I assume you already know about the mission. I've got intel that Strucker's up in the VIP lounge." She gently tugged at your arm and pulled you off of your stool, handing you an earpiece.

"Oh, um..." You tried to ask this 'Agent Natasha Romanoff' what was happening, but she continued to talk about things you couldn't even start to comprehend.

"Come on, put it on. We might need it." She stared you down, in a quite intimidating manner, that you had no choice but to follow. You really didn't know what was happening, whether this was role-playing or something else, you had no idea.

You really didn't have much else to do anyway, maybe it wouldn't be that bad to just go with it. You were a little tipsy, but not so much that you could be dreaming about this whole conversation. Maybe it was this woman's way of hitting on you? They say weird things happen in clubs, right? (They don't)

"We have to get through the 4 security details on the outside, plus the 10 estimated to be inside." You watched with your eyes glued to her smooth movements, as she checked her various hidden weapons. You were so entranced that with a little help from alcohol, you managed to completely ignore the fact that this didn't look normal. At all.

"It's fine, I know you just started. Just be on alert, alright?" Although Natasha felt her partner's whole attitude was a little off, she shook it off, reminding herself that she had just started out. "Say, what should I call you?" She asked, starting to walk towards the stairs leading to Strucker's location.

"Oh, uhm- Y/N's fine." You stuttered, suddenly pulled away from a trance-like state you were in. "Right, and where are we go-"

Suddenly, as the two of you got to the top of the stairs, Natasha shushed you and slammed you on the wall before you made a turn around the corner. Your cheeks burned up at her roughness, and her close proximity to you.

"Okay, I've got visual. 4 men, not an issue. Stay here." She whispered, and before you could even respond, she was out of your sight.

"What the fuck?!" After a few moments, you peeked over at where Natasha had gone, just to be met with a sight of 4 bodies on the floor. You debated whether to just run away while she was distracted, but she had already gotten to you, pulling you by your arm.

"I know this is your first field mission, Agent. But I need support." You had no reason to comply, except for the shiny black gun she held in her hands. Your breath hitched at the weapon, your mouth unable to form words. Telling yourself that this will be over soon, you could only follow. At the very least, she didn’t look like she was going to shoot you.

From there, you experienced something you never thought you would, ever, in your life. As soon as Natasha kicked open the door to the lounge, bullets were flying, kicks and punches were being thrown everywhere, knives flying across the air, and whole lotta things that had you cursing in confusion and fear every 10 seconds.

Natasha, in the corner of her eyes, saw the panic that flashed across your eyes. She shoved you to the farthest corner of the room, shielding the knives and guns that pointed your way. She usually would’ve been annoyed at an Agent’s lack of experience, but seeing you so small almost hurt her physical heart.

You were curled up by the wall, watching this intricate dance of deadliness. But even though the chaos, the woman, who called herself Agent Natasha Romanoff was like a magnet for your eyes. Her movements, her punches, kicks, even the way she held her gun was so rhythmical and controlled, that you almost forgot you were in the middle of a gun-fight.

That's when it hit you.

She was a real Agent who mistook you for her partner.

So when Natasha was going one-on-one and overpowered by who seemed to be the leader of the gang, you only had 2 choices in front of you. Either you run while all the other men are knocked out and the leader is distracted, or you toughen up and help Natasha.

It was perfect. The mafia-looking guy had his back to you, completely unaware that you were even in the room. All rational thoughts went out the window as you heard Natasha choke in his grip. You almost don't remember what you did after that. All you know is that you slid your stun-gun out of your boot, and shot him right on his shoulder.

You stood still in your spot after that, watching as she cleaned up.

"Thanks for the last-minute save." Natasha's voice sounded like you were hearing her from underwater, your senses dulled from the shock. You fell to the floor, suddenly losing control of your legs.

"Hey, what's the matter?" She dropped the knocked out and hand-cuffed body of the man on the ground, and ran over to you.

"Agent... I'm not who you think I am." You looked up at her with glossy eyes, not even knowing why you were about to cry.

-a whole lot of explaining later-

"You're a civilian." She fell down next to you, clearly horrified by this new revelation. "I don't even know how to apologize. I'm sorry." She cradled her head in her hands, cursing herself for being so irresponsible.

"Uhm, Agent Romanoff? It's okay, I think." You wiped away your stray tears, cry-laughing at yourself and this whole ridiculous situation. Natasha looked over at you with sympathy filled in her eyes, laying a hand over yours that rested on the carpet.

"Oh god, this is crazy." Natasha couldn't do anything but laugh. The two of you kept on talking and laughing about how today turned out as you dragged the handcuffed body out of the VIP exit, and into her police-car like vehicle.

You had to let her take you back to her office, to check you for injuries and explain the situation to her boss. You must’ve received at least 50 apologies from the both of them, but you assured them that you were okay.

And... it turns out, not a lot of people can react like you did in a first fight. On top of this, the Avengers were actually looking for a support agent, who stays back at the compound and become that “girl in the chair”.

And guess how all of that coincidence on top of a coincidence turned out.

That simple night out led you inside a gigantic tower that everyone in New York knew about, where the notorious Avengers lived, the Stark Tower.

“Hi, my name is Y/N Y/L/N.”

-a month later-

You felt emotionally fulfilled, looking out at the sight of the living room. When it was just you, it was always quiet, considering you used to lived on your own. But in a short span of a month, you quickly got used to the noisy mornings, the laughters and banters filling the room.

“Hi, принцесса.” You felt a pair of arms slide under your arms, and a small kiss planted on your bare shoulder. You giggled as Natasha twirled you around, sitting you down on the counter as she kissed you.

“Mm, good morning babe.” You whispered back. And in her strong arms, you felt what the people call love, in this fiery assassin. Natasha couldn’t ask for a better partner to share her deepest secrets with, to follow to the ends of the earth, and protect with all she had.

“Tonyyy, Y/N and Tasha are making out on your coffee beansss.” Clint yelled from his place on the couch, an evil smile on his face as Tony ran into the kitchen.

“Not my Tanzania Peaberry Coffee beans!”

All is good. (?)

(The real Agent got shit-faced and was fired lol)

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ofcloudsandstars · 3 years

Note

Hey you doing well?? Its been a while, i just wanted to make sure saturn wasn't kicking your ass too much. Idk you're loved and appreciated ❤❤

This is so sweet omg like sorry I have been quiet for a while but its really nice to see that people will notice if I suddenly disappear and people care! 😩 I dunno sorry to sound so dramatic but sometimes we all get that thot like what if I dropped off the face of the earth would anyone care and I know its irrational and caused by mental health stress cause of course people would notice, certainly my boss who would be like bitch you gotta clock in at 8AM where the fuck you at lol.

Actually things have been ok so far. Just the general Aries season stress but nothing astronomically stressful. Spring Equinox was INCREDIBLE!! We had an incredible zoom celebration and then I met up with some friends of friends which lead me to meet this incredible clique of unfriendly black hottie london afro queer witches and we had a secret rave in someone’s warehouse loft which gave me so much life it like healed me from past traumas of feeling like I don’t fit in like I felt so seen and cherished that whole night. Plus they are all about creativity and living in tune with yourself and they all taught each other how to DJ and use those fancy DJ table sets and they had incredible music sets all night so we danced nonstop. Like I thought I was getting old but I managed to stay up until 7am lol. We had a cat!!! A random cat who lived in one of the warehouses come and crash our party!! He was sooo sweet and cute and probably was intrigued by a group of random magical humans up in the deadass of night during #RealCatHours when most humans would be sleeping so the cat just vibed with us like he came in, found a cozy seat and just sat at the edge of our dancing area as everyone pet and cherished him lol. Shortly after some man with ram horns bust in lol. He was wearing the horns cause it was aries season so he was appropriate. He brought balloons and I have always been apprehensive about doing synthetic substances as I am a child of the earth and will stick to my weeds and plants but I mean if you were ever planning to just experiment with a balloon in your life, why not on Spring equinox on the day of aries season when a strange fae with ram horns crashes your secret warehouse party? It was a good experience lol yolo

Work started early but for a good reason cause my job changed again and we are working on a new system so my manager actually just wants us to get familiar with the changes before we kick off forreal. We’ve been working from home so its ok. It seems once we get the hang of it it will make our jobs a lot easier so I am grateful. Someone organizing the Spring Equinox readings got a bit sick (thankfully not Covid) but was unwell to continue doing it so I have to arrange them now and I feel a bit overwhelmed cause my weekend I am working so I hope I can sort it out :( I feel like people may be understanding since we all have witnessed that getting sick is No Joke these days.

My week has just been busy with events and I finally have today and tomorrow off but I know not everyone is free during weekdays which is wack. I would have tried to start organizing yesterday when I was off but I took off to help this ADORABLE farm in Dartford start up their veggie bed with my gardening group. Oh my god it was so cute and magical and they had all kinds of animals grazing in flowering fields and it was such a sensually spring experience. They had so many cute native flowers blooming everywhere. When I got off the rail train my phone directed me to cut through the local woods for a 20 minute walk lol I felt like I was in some harvest moon shit. The woods were full of flowering trees or trees with fresh green shoots and daffodils and it was soo sunny. There was this one very friendly pig at the farm that was huge and smelly but really liked his back being rubbed so I had fun rubbing his back every time I had to run up to the house to use the toilet and back again.

Anyway now that I have a nothing day I am just sorting through life admin stuff. Thanks for checking up on me. April side of Aries season is always a bit more chaotic for me for some reason so I can’t say how this Saturn transit feels yet but it’s over on the 10th. So far it’s been rewarding and peaceful but I notice my issues with Saturn are really internal cause my native Saturn is retrograde. I feel like its really hard for me to progress in life cause I shut down any budding efforts because they aren’t good enough. It’s pretty crippling but I guess this first transit lesson is to figure out how to get over that for good hopefully.

Anyway I have rambled long enough. I may be pretty quiet for the rest of Aries season as I try to get my bearings (I am pretty excited but really nervous for Uranus entering my 4th house in April!! 😰) but will be more active here in Taurus season for sure. I think I will just come back to make some important posts for astro transits highlighting the more important ones to grace our presence the day before they hit. I mean I’ve always wanted to do that since I know not everyone has time to read the whole monthly forecast in one go and remember it, but life gets in the way lol.

#long post #anon #personal

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corvidshipping · 3 years

Text

Heartbeat

Summary: On a sleepless night, Possum tells Cliff they think his heartbeat is comforting. He’s not quite sure what they mean Pairing: Cliff Stｅｅlｅ/Heather “Red” Bowers (Possum) Warnings: none Rating: G/T Word count: 2.8k A/N: Editing? Outline? bitch what outline here we go

The manor creaked and sighed in the wind, the ancient and fragile upper floors almost seeming to sway with each gust. Cliff's heavy steps echoed through the silent halls, his eyes straining to pick up obstacles in his way with only moonlight to guide him. His outdated cameras failed him often even in good conditions, but in dead of night he usually had to make his way nearly blind, worsened by the lack of other senses like touch. He cringed internally as he noticed, through the static in his hearing that was ever-present now, how loud his footsteps were, and he wished it were easier for him to walk softly. He hoped it wouldn't wake anyone up.

As carefully as one could in a metal body, Cliff made his way down from his bedroom to the living room of the manor. A digital clock glowed softly on the mantle, a nightlight that the Chief liked to keep for Dorothy. The lit numbers read 1:47 AM. Cliff sighed out loud at the sight of it, realizing he had been trying and failing to sleep for almost three hours. He had managed it, at one point, briefly, but was haunted by visions of the past melding with the present - watching the accident over and over from an outside view, every time Clara replaced by someone different. Dorothy, Jane, and at one point, for some reason, Rachel Weisz was there. He watched a specter of his daughter, trapped in her youth, falling into the hands of Mr. Nobody. He saw worlds where he had died, and Clara was retrieved, her brain shoved into a cold, metallic prison, unforgiving and unfeeling. He heard his only child screaming, trying to cry, slowly realizing that robotic eyes could spill no tears. That was the worst dream so far, and the one that jolted him awake hours ago, the one that kept occupying his brain with anxieties and guilt.

An odd feeling rose within him, one he had grown unpleasantly familiar with. In his youth - that is, when he was human - he would grow sick with anxiety, a physical feeling that felt heavy in his gut. Now, with no body, he had no physical response to the near-constant dread, but a phantom response followed him, something he thought of as a leaden ball. It almost always was accompanied by a ghostly chill, one he should not feel - the expectation of a feeling that his brain, the only soft and organic part of him left, still remembered. Uselessly, Cliff shook his head, as if he were a dog trying to clear his ears of water. He tried to pretend the motion helped.

In the dark, Cliff ventured to the couch, dropping heavily onto it. He wasn't sure why, truly, he still sat there. Not like it's any more comfortable than anywhere else, he thought bitterly. He supposed it was habit, or maybe just that these joints were stiff, and it was awfully hard to bend enough to get up and down off the floor. Getting up the stairs was enough of an effort as it was, he didn't need to make life harder for himself. He blinked slowly, he needed to get his mind off this. His thoughts were just running in circles now, a car on an empty racetrack, making endless grim laps.

Somewhere to the right of him, the curtains fluttered over a closed window, the glass fogging just a little.

"Hey, Possum." Cliff's voice was quiet, and tinged with a hint of static tonight. He turned his head to the window to see writing forming, as if drawn by an invisible finger.

"It's late." The window read, drips slowly forming in the condensation. Slowly, the writing faded back into fog.

"Yeah, yeah, like you're one to talk. We're both awake right now." The curtain moved again, gently. He wondered if that was their way of laughing.

In the silvery moonlight, a soft voice rang out, barely audible and almost a whisper. "I'm a ghost. It's my job to haunt people late at night."

The resident bump-in-the-night, Heather Bowers - or as she preferred to be called, Red, and as Jane had christened her, Possum - could not be easily described in generally accepted terms. In the 1970s, when she was in her 20s, she was met with a terrible accident in small-town Ohio that she refused to speak about. At the exact moment of this accident, her latent psychic powers apparently activated, causing her body to cease to exist and become a thoughtform - a living consciousness, separate from a body, that exists only in its own thoughts, spread across multiple planes of existence. They now spent most of their time incorporeal, floating through the halls (and sometimes the walls) of Doom Manor, rattling chains and giving ghostly moans - the usual fare for a stereotypical ghost. At times, they could become corporeal - though it consumed quite a lot of energy - and, as a thoughtform, they could enter others' minds as a concept, especially in dreams, where they could form a body for themself and act corporeal in the sleeping person's dreamscape. It was almost comparable to Mr. Nobody, but rather than using these powers to cause harm and distress, they just tended to act as a year-round Halloween prop. The easiest way to describe her, in that case, was simply as a ghost, or poltergeist. Or at least, that was how Chief described it.

The accent pillows that Rita had insisted on earlier in the month shifted next to Cliff. "You weren't in the dreamscape when I came looking for you." Possum and Cliff had met when the former had begun entering his dreams, seeking an escape from the loneliness and boredom of life as an invisible consciousness. Possum was shocked when Cliff was able to see her and pointed her out as an anomaly in the memory he frequently revisited when he slept, and after she explained her situation to him and the Patrol, they had formed a comfortable routine of her entering his dreams frequently. An open invitation stood now between the two of them, Cliff trusting them never to overstep boundaries or snoop in memories that weren't theirs. It was a symbiotic thing, mutually beneficial; they got to re-experience corporeality and interact with the world, and they could influence the world of his mind, quelling anxiety and keeping nightmares at bay. Plus they were able to help him dream of his old body, so he got to experience human senses again.

Cliff made a sound between a scoff and a laugh. "You wouldn't have wanted to see what I was dreaming about anyway." Immediately, he regretted speaking, knowing that those words would make Possum worry. "It wasn't that bad," he quickly added before she could respond. "Just the usual shit."

There was a heavy silence after that, each passing second making Cliff more and more uncomfortable, wondering what he could say to cut the tension.

Finally, Possum responded.

"I'm sorry. I wish I'd been there earlier," they said gently.

"Aw, don't sweat it, Red." He leaned further forward on the couch, his aging metal joints groaning with the effort. "I'm up now, anyway. And so are you."

A hand reached out from the darkness, pale white and translucent, landing on his arm. He couldn't feel her touch, but he could tell from looking that it was gentle, resting on the plates of his forearm delicately, like he was something fragile, precious. Like she was afraid he would break.

When they spoke, Possum's voice was even quieter, lower, as if she hoped he wouldn't hear her. "Can I... will you, um, rest with me?"

"Huh?"

Possum cleared her throat. "You need rest. I uh, I saw once on the Discovery Channel that if you can't sleep, it's better to lay down and close your eyes, even if you don't sleep. Y'know, it helps, um, y'know, you don't strain yourself that way. Your brain, and stuff."

"Oh. Yeah, I'll be okay, pint-size." Cliff leaned back against the couch arm again. "You okay?"

He heard her inhale, a strange sound in the empty darkness. "Can I sleep with you here, tonight?" Before Cliff could respond, she continued. "It's just that the attic is so far away from everyone else, it's so quiet, and the trains keep coming through, and it's cold up there. And no one's been around all day, you know? I haven't been able to talk to anyone, it's been a bad day for corporeality. And, y'know. The attic is just... really cold."

If he could have furrowed his brows, he would have. Instead, he settled for a nonplussed blink. Briefly, he wondered if she might just be afraid of the dark. The thought made him laugh a bit, the bonafide ghost haunting the manor being scared of the dark in the attic she occupies. "Sure, yeah."

Before him, Possum's figure manifested fully. The nickname "pint-size" was not a misnomer - when Cliff stood at full height next to them, the very top of their head barely hit his shoulder. They were a tiny, ghostly apparition, red hair floating as if they were underwater shocking against the pale glowing white of their skin. Right now, this phantom was floating in midair, as if laying on some bed, one hand propping up their chin and the other still on his arm, their legs kicking slowly behind them. Slowly, moving as if in a pool, they rearranged their body's positioning, pulling their legs under them so they were sitting normally on the couch next to him. Cliff saw the couch shift as they became more corporeal, taking up more weight on the cushions as they became more grounded in physical reality. Once they had fully manifested, they slowly leaned over towards him, eyes averting from his.

They laid their head on his shoulder, gently, like they were testing if he would pull away. He didn't, just looking at them. They took a deep, quiet breath, and relaxed, positioning themself so their head was laying on his chest. Once they were in the position they wanted, they stretched out, the tips of their toes stretching to the other arm of the couch. Cliff shifted a bit, leaning back to make them more comfortable. Possum closed their eyes and smiled, and it reminded him a bit of an extremely self-satisfied cat.

Cliff looked down at their head nestled on his metal torso. "There's no way you're comfortable like that," he muttered, trying to be mindful of his volume with how close to his voicebox their ear was. With the way they smiled when he spoke, he could swear they liked the vibrations of his voicebox in his chest.

She opened her eyes to look up at him, black eyes gazing up at him and glittering like the stars reflected in a deep black pool. Their spectral ailment only served to deepen the effect of their eyes, leaving very little white to their sclerae, completing an otherworldly look. "No, I am. I like to listen to your heartbeat."

Was she making fun of him? "I don't have a heartbeat," Cliff said flatly.

They sat up, propping themself on their arms so they were eye-to-eye with him. "No, you do. Sometimes when we sleep and I'm not in the dreamscape, I listen to it, just like this."

"Possum, I don't have any organs. I barely have a brain." He laughed a bit at the end, trying to cover his confusion.

"I'll show you!" Suddenly, she had bolted upright, and swooped down to the ground like an Olympic diver, passing through the floor towards the basement level. Cliff waited a minute in the silence, the dark no longer lit by their odd phantasmic glow. Finally, they flew back up through a different space in the floor closer to the television with the same vigor. They held a stethoscope in their hands, likely borrowed from Chief's hoard, and Cliff wondered in bemusement what the logic of a solid object passing through the floor with them was.

"Here." They clambered back onto the couch, regaining solidity, and leaned against him. They stretched up to his head, and he leaned forward a bit to help them put the earpieces against the auditory inputs on either side of his head. "Listen!" They placed the resonator against his chest.

Cliff heard nothing, but Possum sat staring at him, their index finger placed against their lips in a hushing gesture. After a moment, he was about to call it quits and say they were hearing things, but their stare was so earnest, he couldn't bring himself to. He waited,

and waited,

and Possum shifted the resonator,

and then he heard it.

It wasn't that it had just started. It had been there. But it was a low noise, one he was used to, and when Possum shifted the resonator it only then became loud enough for him to recognize as a sound distinct from his usual background noise.

It wasn't a heartbeat, per se. Not in the organic sense, at least. It was more of a mechanical thrumming, a pulsing, a deep noise that wasn't so much like the beating of a drum as it was like the quiet revving of an engine a few streets over, reduced by distance and acoustics to only its most bassy components. He looked down, and he heard the whirring and whining of the servos in his neck and shoulders through the stethoscope. The placement of the stethoscope was slightly left of center of his chest, where his heart naturally should be.

Possum pulled away the stethoscope, the earpieces falling away from his head. "You hear it, right?"

"That's not my heart," Cliff repeated. "None of my body past my neck was saved. I think that's my nutrient tubes. Or maybe my power system. Or my servos."

"So?"

"... So what?" He blinked at her.

Possum sat upright and spread their arms out to either side of them, palms up, theatrically. "That's exactly what I'm saying!" They said with overdramatic exasperation.

She let herself fall back onto his body, a soft thud echoing inside his chest. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and serious. "So what? I know it isn't an organ, dummy. It doesn't have to be an organ to be your heart. It's comforting either way. It just reminds me that you're here, right now. It doesn't have to be a literal heart to do that, just as long as it's part of you."

Cliff sat silently, as they shifted back into their preferred positioning. He mulled over their words as they pulled themself as close as possible to his body, snuggling their head into the crevice between his shoulder and chest. Mindlessly, he moved his right arm to the small of their back, like he was supporting them, and his left hand moved to their hair, gently running through the strands, liquid copper over the rust of his fingers.

When he finally moved to respond, he realized they had fallen asleep long ago, letting out small snuffles every once in a while. So instead of giving a retort, he simply pulled them closer to his chest, tighter, like if he held them tightly enough he could feel the warmth of their body or the softness of their skin. He nestled his face in their hair, a nuzzling motion with his nose, and let his eyelids drop closed.

✥﹤ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ﹥✥

The manor creaked and sighed in the wind, the ancient and fragile upper floors almost seeming to sway with each gust. Between the slats of the half-drawn blinds, dawn light crept through the windows, lighting up the motes of dust that floated in the air and landing in stripes across sleeping forms. Cliff slept, now, on the couch, half sitting, Heather's pale form clutched in his arms and her hair tangled over his left hand's fingers like wild vines. In his chest, a mechanical heart thrummed and pulsed in a gentle rhythm, delivering power to his limbs, his brain. There were no nightmares, now, no dreams of his anxieties, no personified guilt; nor did he dream of the past, the bittersweet memories that, though happy, always left him with an empty feeling when he woke. He didn't dream of Clara's youth, of his last phone call to Kate. He didn't dream of Mr. Nobody, he didn't dream of Chief locking him away in an iron prison. He simply didn't dream. For once, it was quiet within his mind, even without the shared dreamscape.

The manor creaked and sighed in the wind, the ancient and fragile upper floors almost seeming to sway with each gust. As the manor began to stir and come to life with the others, Cliff was at peace there on the couch in the living room, and so was Heather.

And two hearts beat between them.

#self shipping #self ship fanfic #self ship fic #self ship community #self ship #paper_heart.txt #lucky stars #FUCK it im posting this i dont wanna wait anymore enjoy #good luck wit this if u read it /j #s: human after all

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