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anika-ann · 4 years

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My Timid Hello, My Clumsy Goodbye (S.R.)

Type: one-shot, canon semi-compliant?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Barton!reader Word count: 8900 (...sorry)

Summary: You’re spending the evening and the night before your wedding with the two most important men of your life.

When the sun rises again, you’ll say your ‘I do’ in a close circle of friends and family. It’s not a goodbye to your old life and it’s not a hello to some enormous change; but you will no longer be a Barton. You will be a Rogers. Why not reminisce a bit?

Warnings: mention of an abandoned baby, blood and injuries, alcohol, implied possibly rougher sex (nothing graphic) ...mature?, language, so much sappiness... let me know if I missed any

A/N: For what-is-your-backupplan-today 10th anniversary of CA:TFA challenge. Prompts in bold. Thank you for coming up with this wonderful theme and hosting this challenge! Long live CA:TFA!

A/N: Throughout the fic, you’ll find snippets of lyrics from SYML’s "Everything All At Once”. Honestly, the song has a completely different meaning to me, but tearing it out of context works for this story just fine :) When you’re done reading, I recommend the music video. It friggin’ broke me in the worst and best ways. Enjoy!

This is my hello This is my clumsy goodbye I'm putting my glass down I wanna remember tonight

Tony rented an island for you. Clint nearly passed out learning about it and grumbled for days about having a hard time to top that, which, no arguing, was understandable.

It was an incredibly extravagant thing to do, throwing around money that could have been used for a much more honourable cause, but you couldn’t complain. One should not look a gifted horse into mouth – and so you didn’t.

Because Tony Stark renting an island was his premature wedding gift. The fact that your brother bitched about not being able to top that, well, that was his problem. You were certain that deep down, he knew you didn’t need any fancy gifts like that.

Then again, Tony’s gift might have been epically overpriced, but not exactly unthoughtful; along with a private island came a private jet and you being literally flied under radar so no single paparazzi knew where you and America’s golden boy Steve Rogers would seal the deal with your ‘I do.’ So, you were everything but ungrateful to your friend that he succeeded at pulling off such covert operation; and frankly, this place was nothing short of wonderful.

The golden sand was pleasantly warm under your toes as you as you and Clint walked towards the two single beach chairs facing the ocean. Wearing bikini under the baggy t-shirt and a pair of shorts, sunglasses on top of your head, because why would you deprive yourself the gorgeous view of the sun beginning to set down, you followed your brother – not in blood but in every other sense – to the seats, allured by the view, the serenity and the cold sixpack in his hand.

You had already had a traditional bachelorette party with your girls – with the team, with your family. Natasha, Wanda, Pepper, Sharon and Maria. The night had been the perfect blend of what was considered typically feminine, dress up, fanciness and wine and gossip, and a fun night out with shots, dancing, karaoke and pool. That particular night sadly was interrupted shortly by an annoying photographer, but he soon understood it was not very clever to annoy three and a half Avengers or the CEO of Stark Industries for that matter.

Clint however… Clint deserved a special evening with you. With the rest of the team in various state of chilling out, scattered around the luxurious small houses and gorgeous beaches, you two were left the privacy such moment required.

Even if the special moment consisted of simple talking and drinking beer while watching the sun set, a symbolic end of one phase of your life – a phase that was undeniably tied to the famous and yet barely known archer, one of the seven defenders who rushed into the Battle of New York to save the Earth.

One of the seven had been your brother, having previously been controlled by the monster who brought an army from outer space; there was no questioning whether you would join the fight or not, no matter how you preferred the latter part of your field medic job title to the former.

Another of these brave people, as it turned out, was your future husband. A man you had met for the first time that day, but whom you didn’t hesitate to push back down when he got hit by a freaking alien weapon and stood up, wanting to shake it off as if it was nothing. Your medical training told you not to let him; and your stubbornness had been just a touch stronger than his that day.

Apparently, Steve found you always standing your ground to be one of your most endearing qualities.

What a fancy way to express it instead of simply calling you a stubborn pain in his ass.

“You’re lost in your head, Twinkie,” Clint hummed, playfully nudging your ribs with an elbow, bringing you back to the present.

Your nose automatically scrunched at the childhood nickname.

“You gotta stop calling me that, Bobo,” you retorted, a grin spreading on your face as it was his turn to grimace.

You knew it was nothing but an act and that he in fact loved that nickname, because it held so much sentiment, so many memories… as did his endearment for you.

Bobo had been your first word or so Clint always claimed. Obviously, you wouldn’t remember.

You wouldn’t remember your parents, having been only two days old when your mother left you with a damn circus which was in your hometown at the time. You couldn’t recall how you wouldn’t stop crying until you heard a seven-year-old Clint humming a lullaby for you, with silly replacements of lyrics that always made you laugh later on when you could understand them.

How he started calling you Twinkie, because he was a sugar addict and apparently, you were sweet and small and he liked you; so much that he soon appointed himself to be your brother, your bro, your Bobo.

Once you were older and learned that your involuntary nickname for him also meant ‘crazy’ in Spanish, you were sold to that Bobo endearment forever.

Including the night before your wedding.

“You keep zoning out on me, Kid. Getting cold feet?” Clint hummed, casually handing you a can of beer, opening it up for you.

You automatically reached out and took a sip, eyes fixed on the warm colour on the horizon. What a ridiculous question… but kind and caring, with a hidden promise of getting you out of here if you just asked. Your amazing, protective, crazy brother.

You couldn’t but smile widely, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

“You offering to kidnap the bride, Clint? I’d like to see you try. You were always better at trapeze than at being an escape artist.”

Clint scoffed. “Please. These are amateurs. I bet I could pull it off.”

That drew a laugh from you.

“Are you calling the Avengers amateurs? Better yet, are you calling your wife an amateur?” you teased him, watching his face lose colour when he realized that he did exactly that. You leaned over and patted his thigh. “Don’t worry, Bobo. I won’t tell Nat.”

Clint visibly relaxed, but a shadow of worry twisting his expression.

“Seriously though. Where’s your head at, Kid?”

You just shrugged, smile resting on your lips as you wondered if you ever felt so relaxed. It went along well with the reminiscing of the past and despite the fact that tomorrow was a big day and you should probably be nervous, you weren’t. Not in the slightest, more like the opposite. You were giddy even; it dawned to you that nothing in your life had ever felt so right.

No moment in your life offered you such serenity to your heart, your shoulders free of any weight, body light as air.

“Just taking a trip down the memory lane. Thinking about how lucky I was to be dropped at your circus of all circuses of the world,” you grinned at Clint, your tone remaining completely serious.

Because you were being serious – words couldn’t express how grateful for everything that led to this moment you were. How grateful you were to your brother for watching over you, making sure you would always see the light of a new day, guiding you when you found yourself in a dark.

Clint didn’t react beside his fingers twitching and you knew he was giving you the chance to say what you needed to say.

“About how you taught me pretty much everything I know. About how while I might not be the best person in the world, my brother, who is the best brother ever, made me into a decent person and I owe him everything I am. And how I should probably feel guilty for tying myself to another guy who just swept in and whisked away your little sister.”

Clint stared at you, gulping as his eyes gradually filled with tears. You found yourself in a very cheesy moment, bordering on absurd and it was almost too much to handle – but Clint took a deep breath, cleared his throat and swallowed his tears.

“Well, that bastard did steal my greatest life achievement with way too little effort,” he remarked, voice cracking slightly, the image of him causing your eyes to burn as well even if his words made you both tear up and burst out laughing.

“Dammit, Clint, stop making me laugh and cry at the same time…”

“You started it!” he pointed his index finger at you accusingly, taking a large sip of his beer to drown his sentiment. “But for the record, you should not feel guilty. It’s not like you’re leaving me.”

“I know, but-“

“And if you were, you’d be leaving me in good hands.”

“That’s true, Natasha does have a grip on you and might keep you outta trouble-“

“She’s the one who gets me into trouble half of the time!” Clint cried out in protest and you would have argued if it wasn’t the truth.

But before he had met her, Clint was able to make up his own trouble just fine – he was more than half of a reason why while doing a bit of trapeze yourself, you also grew interested in medical care. Because who else than the little sister should treat her big brother’s wounds when he got too crazy?

“In all seriousness, I’m proud of you, Twinkie,” he said sincerely, one corner of his lips raised in a lopsided smile. “You’re entirely entitled to have your own life and if there’s one guy in this whole damn world I’m willing to trust to have you… well, I guess it’s that big blond dumbass.”

“He can be a bit dumb of ass occasionally, can’t he?” you mused lovingly. “I guess it’s right what they say… we do pick our partners similar to our parents, maybe not only in looks. I didn’t really have a dad, I had you, so…”

Clint sighed, smile widening, before it slipped from his face as he caught up on the not-so-hidden insult.

“Hey!”

You couldn’t but laugh at his shocked expression, accidently spilling a splosh of beer on the sand.

“Just… maybe make sure that even married, you still find time to hang out with your big dumb of ass brother every once in a while?” Clint suggested, sounding surprisingly vulnerable.

Your whole demander softened, a little pang of guilt stinging in your heart as he took your words too seriously – and at his worry.

“Clint… I will always find time for my amazing brother.”

“Well, you’re marrying a pretty amazing guy too, so, you know, I understand the dilemma…”

You snorted when he seemed to genuinely fawn over your future husband, shaking your head before downing the rest of your drink.

“As amazing as Steve might be – and gosh, he is, don’t get me started – you still own a pretty big chunk of my heart.”

“Good. You are a Barton at heart,” Clint hummed, pretending that a few tears didn’t roll down his cheeks, leaning towards you as his expression once again grew serious.

Your chest tightened. Oh no. He was gonna say something to make you cry too – as if you already weren’t at verge of crying, emotions bubbling under the surface.

“Clint-“ you warned him silently, but he spoke up anyway and you gulped, bracing yourself.

“Just… whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing. That you will stay who you are. Not a perfect housewife, but a good woman.”

That was not what you were prepared for, as touching as the sentiment was.

You burst out laughing, head thrown back, hands clutching at your stomach as it actually hurt with the sudden clench. Tears did spring from your eyes, a perfect blend of touched and infinitely amused at your brother’s words.

“Har, har, that’s what I get from trying to speak from heart…” Clint muttered grumpily and you willed yourself to calm your hitching breaths as you looked at him, the pout of his mouth causing you to cackle again.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just… I am moved, I really am. Thank you. But me? A perfect housewife? And you realize I’m marrying Steve Rogers, right? The epitome of a good man? He would probably threaten to sock me in a jaw if I tried to change into something I’m not just for his sake and actually sock me in my jaw if I turned into a bad woman.”

Clint’s eyebrows jumped, a smirk appearing on his face. “That’s a lot of punching.”

“My thoughts exactly,” you agreed, reaching for another can, pausing when a thought occurred to you. “Just so we’re clear, I might turn into a bit of a housewife when we have kids, alright? And I want to be a good wife, a good partner to Steve, which is what I’m trying to do even now.”

“I mean, yeah, sure, wouldn’t expect anything less. But… just promise me you’ll stay you and that you’ll keep giving him a run for his money, keep him on his toes a bit,” Clint shrugged with a grin, drawing another chuckle from you.

You saw his point – and you fully intended to keep Steve on his toes. You had a good reason to believe that your future husband enjoyed when you did.

“Oh Clinton… I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He nodded contentedly, picking up another beer and raising it for a toast, his can clinking with yours.

“Cheers to that!”

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you then, a quiet joy wrapped in one moment; the sun ending its quest, the warm breeze in your hair, the waves whispering of a journey you were about to take off to. And all that with a wordless comforting presence of your family, ready to offer you a shelter if a storm rocked your boat and the wind caused you to lose course.

As your mind wandered, you had to laugh at yourself – it was almost as if you were raised by pirates and not circus performers. Perhaps it was the little bit of free cheeky spirit these life journeys had in common what brought the metaphor to your mind. It was a bit like working with the Avengers too, always on a road, adrenaline in your veins even as you mostly stayed on the jet, ready to assist them… yet here you were pondering that maybe, you were yearning for settling down a bit more.

“Cap wouldn’t punch you anyway, right?” Clint remarked, breaking the silence and you blinked yourself back into reality, taking a moment to figure out what he was talking about.

Oh. Right. Steve punching you if you changed yourself significantly for his benefit.

You smiled softly, heart swelling in affection when the answer to that question appeared obvious.

“No, he wouldn’t.”

“Good. He’d try once and I’d put an arrow straight between his eyes,” Clint promised darkly, almost causing you to choke at the sudden violent note. He quickly fixed it with a ramble, lightening the atmosphere yet again. “Minus training of course. He’s allowed to try in order to improve your hand-to-hand. Not that he would ever land a hand on you anyway. Always so soft on you…” he grinned, seemingly alright with that attitude if not slightly calling the big strong supersoldier out.

Oh you could be cheeky too alright if that was what your brother wanted.

“That you know of.”

A confused huh was the only reaction you got – that and a puzzled look.

“He’s always soft on me,” you repeated Clint’s words, turning to him, lips slowly spreading in a wicked smirk. “That you know of.”

Clint’s brows furrowed for a short moment and then his features twisted in a disgusted grimace, face growing a tint crimson.

“Gross!” he complained, more blood rushing to his cheeks. “You know what, I changed my mind. We’re leaving. You’re not marrying him. I’m kidnapping the bride and never returning her, locking her somewhere far far away-“

You snorted at his indignation, your grin undoubtedly battling the one of the Cheshire cat.

“No will do, Bobo. I’m marrying Steve and you can’t stop me.”

This time, Clint didn’t even protest, eyes misted over, nose still scrunched at the mental image, lamenting as the night slowly settled over the paradise-like island.

“Oh god, please help, I can’t unsee it, can’t unhear it--- ew-”

Your laughter was carried away by the breeze as Clint seemed to be unable to look at you.

You swung your beer around, thinking that yes – nothing quite ever felt so right as being here in this moment. Relaxing with your brother, teasing him relentlessly and counting down hours to when you’d say ‘I do’ to the only man who in your eyes ever battled the mantle of the best man in the universe.

In one unending moment You fall within my reach I'm close enough to whisper Hold on to me Hold on to me

You weren’t sure what time it was when you snuck into the beach house, one of few, which had been wisely chosen to be occupied by you and Steve only. You attempted to be quiet and liked to think you succeeded, in your even barely tipsy state, but your effort turned out to be in vain as you found Steve perched against headboard of your bed; reading a book, thin white t-shirt and sleep shorts on display as the soft sheet had been kicked away, scrunched up by his feet.

He was gorgeous – he was gorgeous and yours, a momentary picture perfect of peace, appearing to feel just as light as you did and somehow the dullness of the moment, just him relaxing in bed with a good read as you came home… it was more alluring than one would think.

Steve looked up from the book when you wavered in the doorway, soft lopsided smile spreading on his face.

God, that smile. It might be over two years since you saw it for the first time, but it could still make you weak in your knees.

And somehow, it was now even more charming now than the day you met, more tender than just before you kissed for the first time, sweeter than when he proposed.

“Hey sweetheart,” he greeted you, appreciative gaze roaming your figure and the little too much skin on display – something you regretted when the warm sunrays had bid you goodbye, raising goosebumps. And Steve, the attentive man he was, noticed, his smile earning a teasing edge. “You look a bit cold in there.”

You resisted the urge to stick your tongue out.

“And you look pretty cosy in there. Thought you’d be either asleep or with Bucky.”

Steve shrugged, not letting go of his unfinished chapter just yet, knowing you had a routine to go through before joining him.

“Maybe I missed you. Maybe Bucky is an old man and needs his sleep.”

You chuckled, not rising to the bait – you knew what would follow if you dared to say Steve was just as old. Not that you would complain about Steve trying to convince you about the opposite. You could never.

“Well, I bet he still made you a promise of breaking a bone of mine or two if I ever hurt you. He’ll find energy for that, centenarian or not,” you hummed nonchalantly as you bounced off the doorframe, heading to the bathroom and leaving Steve puzzled by your remark.

“How did you know?” he called out after you, endearingly confused.

“That’s what big brothers do, love!”

Short silence was your answer as you reached for your toothbrush and begun your nighty ritual.

Steve must have figure out what did it mean for him, considering you had a protective brother of your own, because a moment later, his half-amused “noted!” reached your ears.

You chuckled and shook your head, smile spread on your face which you didn’t think could be erased as long as you were in this paradise – free of worry, full of joy. And why wouldn’t you be? You were about to marry one of the smartest, kindest, sassiest and most beautiful men that ever walked the Earth. What was not to love?

You couldn’t but let your mind wander again; if you had only known the day you met, right from that moment, that you’d end up here…. well. It felt a little surreal, knowing that by this time tomorrow, you’d be Steve’s wife; then again, Steve’s life story was surreal enough on its own.

Who would have thought that the stubborn handsome man in the ridiculous suit and you, equally stubborn about you at least checking on the wound upon half-dragging him to a quiet corner in a middle of a battlefield, would grow so close?

It hadn’t been simple. Steve wasn’t the most open guy and while friendly enough, he wasn’t exactly offering his heart on his sleeve, not to strangers. But it hadn’t been too hard, once you were meeting on regular basis. Piece by piece he revealed his true colours and soon after he did… you started falling; hard and fast.

Not necessarily swooning, not on the outside at least; you were a professional, after all. The safety and the well-being of the team was your priority.

It was just too bad – or the best thing, you supposed – that Steve had the same goal as you with one significant difference; as far as he was concerned, the responsibility to look after his team sometimes excluded him.

Oh, was he wrong about that.

And boy, did you let him know you thought so. You still kept proving him wrong to this day and was planning on nurturing his own acknowledgement of his self-worth till your last breath…

“Get your ass in here, Steve!” you called out after him, slowly losing patience as you had tried asking politely the previous two times with no result but being dismissed.

The change of tone and language made his head snap to you from where he was talking to Sam, an offended scowl on his face.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Captain. Don’t be a stubborn jerk and get your ass in here so I can clean your cuts.”

A few months ago, you wouldn’t have been able to talk to him like that; to the great legend, Captain America. At least you certainly wouldn’t have called him his first name and maybe, just maybe, you’d be a little less crass. But now? He might be Captain America still, a hero who deserved all the good things for the sacrifices he made for the world’s safety, but first and foremost, he was just Steve to you.

A colleague, a teammate, a friend. You might not be a part of the team per se, not the way Clint, Natasha or Steve were, but you still belonged. And you were all friends.

Friends irritated each other sometimes and frankly, Steve was often battling with Tony for the mantle of the most infuriating one.

Friends also needed to call each other out on their bullshit by any means necessary when the time was right and now the time was as good as any.

Usually, Steve slipped through your fingers, because he was a supersoldier and the others weren’t, so their injuries took precedence; today, it was only Natasha, Sam and Steve, and the captain was the only one whom you hadn’t checked yet. And you knew there were things to check, the trickle of blood from his eyebrow probably the least of your concerns.

“I wouldn’t argue with her, Steve. She can be pretty stubborn. Clint wouldn’t stop complaining about it,” Natasha supported you from the pilot seat and you fought yourself so you wouldn’t grin at her in victory – it would only irritated Steve further. “She’s almost as bull-headed as you are.”

At that, your smile would have slipped. But honestly, she wasn’t wrong.

“Don’t I know it,” Steve grunted, sparing Sam another glance and when the Falcon himself beckoned to you as well, wordlessly asking Steve to get himself checked up.

The captain sighed irately, but made his way back to the separate and well-lit space of your examination room.

He didn’t try to hide his annoyance – in fact, he squared his shoulders and his steps sounded a bit loud for anyone to believe it was a coincidence. Also, the scowl of exasperation never left his otherwise handsome face.

“This is completely unnecessary. A stupid waste of time,” he hissed as he walked past you and you took a deep calming breath, exchanging an eyeroll with Sam before you disappeared from sight.

“Captain. I respect you and your position, but you say one more time that my job here is unnecessary and stupid, you’ll be looking for a new medic,” you retorted as he stripped the upper part of his uniform angrily, revealing his white-tank-top-clad torso.

Well, at least the fabric used to be white – now a blood stain the size of both of your palms was seeping into the material at Steve’s right side, gushing from what definitely appeared to be a knife wound.

You were gonna murder him one of those days... unless he got killed himself first.

“Seriously?!”

“It’s just a graze-” he started to argue but you cut him off when you tore the fabric away. He winced as some of the dried blood had acted as a glue, having stuck the cloth into the wound, and now was violently ripped off.

“Tr to insinuate again that I’m incompetent at recognizing what’s just a graze, Steve. I dare you. This is a cut wide and deep enough for stitches! Haven’t you had the serum, you could have been bleeding out to death on this table!”

“But I do have it-“

“Or for fuck’s SAKE, stop being a baby and let me treat the bloody gash in your right mesogastric area! The serum accelerates your healing, but it doesn’t make you invincible OR immortal as far as I know--- Jesus fucking Christ-!”

He bristled, taking a deep breath to fight back, but he never got the chance, because you started working and the words died in his throat. Surprisingly, inspecting the damage, poking around a knife wound that might have already begin to seal itself thanks to Erskine’s formula but had not been just a graze hurt and coincidentally, it pulled the rug from under his feet.

To his credit, Steve barely even hissed at the pain.

“Just so you know, I’ll be using the disinfection that stings worse,” you noted, voice dripping venom, because you were genuinely done with Steve’s bullshit.

You lied through your teeth though. You wouldn’t. No matter how infuriating Steve was and how difficult he made your life – causing you to fall for his stupid martyr ass and pine after him among other things – you would never purposely hurt him.

And he must have sensed that, because your remark didn’t earn you a murderous glare or a retort – much to your surprise.

In fact, Steve fell entirely quiet, watching you work without protest, not even objecting when you applied enough local anaesthetic to knock out an elephant and sewed the tissue together so it healed easier. He let you inspect the rest of his torso and bandage his ribs, vigorously shaking his head when you asked him if he was injured anywhere below the waist.

He observed you as you kept an eye on his face for any minute sign of pain he’d be hiding, but all you could see were his irises, startlingly bright blue, pools of honesty and something you had trouble decoding. He seemed… humbled almost. It silenced the anger inside you, the flames of rage – and fear for his well-being, if you were being honest with yourself – turning into a barely smouldering pile of ash.

When you moved on to his head, gently pushing away the strands which obscured the gash on his eyebrow, his eyelids slid shut. You knew how unpleasant facial injuries were, especially around one’s eyes and so you took care to be extra careful as you cleaned the wound and the area surrounding it, most definitely not using the stingy disinfectant.

Not that Steve could get an infection as far as you knew. It was more force of a habit than anything else… and it made you feel better. He had this idiotic mask of an invincible hero he put up sometimes and it drove you insane, because you knew he was only human, a beautiful kind soul, but god, could he be an ass.

“Almost done,” you whispered soothingly when you noticed his jaw tightening as you had to apply a bit more pressure to get a tiny piece of gravel from the cut. You certainly didn’t want that to stay under the newly healing skin.

The moment you retreated with the bloody gauze, Steve’s eyes were back on you, wide and regretful.

“I’m sorry,” he offered quietly, a genuine apology that sounded almost absurd after you two were hissing at each other like damn hellcats. “I didn’t mean to--- I’m sorry for being rude and ungrateful. Thank you for taking care of my injuries.”

One glance into those deep irises and benign hesitant smile and you were done for. How could you stay mad at him? Well, you were still mad at him for the absolute disregard of his own health, but… well. You also understood he felt like he needed to stay strong for the team and put them first and how he actually was in pain.

Pretty much everyone was a pain in the ass when in pain.

You sighed as you searched for few band-aid strips to cover the cut.

“It’s alright, Steve. I’m used to old men being grumpy and not meaning things they say when they are,” you offered lightly and he hung his head with a chuckle, clearly not taking the old man remark personally – and understanding you were referring to your brother.

His smile was wider when he looked up again. “You shouldn’t have to be used to it.”

You shrugged, carefully slipping two fingers under his chin to angle his face so you could stick the strips over the wound.

“Well, I deserve it sometimes. I don’t mean to… to be overbearing and make you feel like you’re incompetent or something,” you added hesitantly, worrying your teeth over your lower lip as the tone you’d been handling him with caught up with you. Perhaps you could have been nicer.

You smoothened the stripes of band-aid, gulping as you felt Steve’s gaze boring into your face while you continued.

“I know you’re not incompetent. You’re very capable, you’re the best. It’s just… I still--- worry- for all of you. For the full-time Earth’s mightiest heroes. Silly, huh?” you muttered self-depreciatingly and when your eyes met, you were startled by the intensity he watched you with as you laid your fears bare in front of him, leaving you vulnerable. You swiftly looked away and dropped your hands. “Here, almost as good as new.”

A lump grew in your throat as you stripped your gloves, tossing them into the bin. Did you reveal too much? Didn’t it sound silly indeed as you said it out loud? Yes, you were all friendly with each other, but you were supposed to be a professional, focused on your task, not getting distracted by-

-by Steve gently grasping your wrist, causing your heart to skip a startled beat. Definitely not getting weak in the knees when you shot him a surprised glance and he just… brought your hand to his face, lips briefly skimming over your knuckles.

Jesus Christ, Lord have mercy with me.

“Don’t you ever apologize for caring. Don’t stop caring. Silly is the last thing I’d call it.”

Your cheeks felt like set on fire, stomach fluttering as well as your heart. You could feel the ghost of Steve’s lips on your skin, sending your heartrate sky-high, causing your head to spin a bit, your body hot all over.

Did he really—did he just-? And did it mean that… did it mean anything at all?

He let go of your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles, but held your gaze adamantly as he gave you a sad smile and rose to his feet, clearly ready to leave.

You, on the hand, stood there frozen, mind racing.

Why had he done that? Was he really just trying to express gratitude and say sorry for his previous behaviour? Because that was not the way it was supposed to be done, because such tenderness left you entirely bewildered. Was he trying to tell you he was somehow interested in something more than friendship? Was he just high from the anaesthetic, mind you, local one that was not supposed to mess with his brain? Was there any sign of a head injury you missed?

“Thank you, again,” he whispered softly, moving to sidestep you and your hand instinctively shot out, latching onto his forearm… gently.

You gulped, heart stuttering when he glanced at you, puzzled.

One part of you wanted to sink into the floor in embarrassment at your unwitting reaction. Another part of you observed him so closely that you would swear that there was another emotion in his eyes and it was neither apology nor gratitude. You wistfully hoped for longing, the same longing you felt when you were near him, sometimes distant and barely there, other times so acute it hurt.

With your stomach somersaulting in doubt, you willed yourself to raise your free hand slowly, purposely giving him a chance – Lord, please, don’t let him take it – to stop you before your palm settled on his cheek.

You were certain you experienced a small cardiac arrest when Steve not only didn’t avoid the touch, but actually leaned into it, gaze fixed on your face, eyes brighter and softer than you ever remembered seeing. Your gaze flickered to his mouth deliberately, throat turning dry. Too daring? He kissed you knuckles, surely you could reciprocate some affection?

Swallowing against your dry throat, you leaned in before you could change your mind and dropped the briefest peck to his lips, causing his eyelids to flutter shut.

Oh no. Oh no no no no, you totally crossed a line-

You went to retreat your hands from him, but the second you moved, his eyes were snapping open, hand covering yours on his face to keep it there, the other cradling your face and then there was a warm and soft sensation on your own lips as he seized them with his.

Your mind went completely blank save two single thoughts: Steve is kissing me. I really like that.

A small sound escaped you, a blend of surprise and contentment, breaking you from your trance and turning you into an actual participant of the pleasant and entirely unexpected activity.

You drew in a small breath, head spinning from the scent of Steve’s shampoo, disinfectant, sweat and something you couldn’t quite put your finger on and not caring.

He tasted faintly of blood, but otherwise was nothing but sweet as his lips caressed yours, gently tugging at your lower lip and then the upper, the lightest graze of teeth and tease of tongue, finger pressing into your jaw to pull you closer, thumb stroking your cheek.

You whimpered involuntarily when his lips parted from yours, soothing as they returned for a short peck, to drop a brief kiss to the corner of your mouth, to brush your cheek.

Your name was a breathy whisper between the two of you, barely audible as all you could hear was your heartbeat pulsing frantically in your ears, growing aware of your fingers clutching at Steve’s still unzipped armour and nearly sinking in his hair, his hot breath tickling your skin.

You didn’t dare to open your eyes – what if you dreamed it up? What if you looked at him and saw regret – it didn’t feel like he would be regretting it, but… still. Insecurity tugged at your mind as it slowly cleared from the literally breath-taking kiss.

Steve repeated your name with urgency that was unheard of, the single word sounding almost as a plea.

“Please say something.”

Oh.

You blinked your eyes open, surprised to be met with his searching gaze, a minute furrow of his brows. It seemed you weren’t the only one whose mind was being the worst of one’s enemies.

Perhaps your brain was being stupid. Perhaps you both wanted this. Perhaps you felt exactly the same.

As you forced yourself to move, fingers actually slipping into his hair to caress his nape, Steve inhaled shakily, shoulders slumping. The tinniest of smiles tugged at his mouth, tempting red and minutely swollen from the kiss; you had to resist the urge to just taste it again.

Instead, you licked your lips only, savouring the previous sensations, smiling unwittingly.

“That’s… uhm, that’s a really creative new way of driving me crazy.”

Steve’s eyebrows rose along with one corner of his mouth, relief written all over his face.

“Oh? There are other ways in which I’m driving you crazy? Because I couldn’t tell...”

You narrowed your eyes, but you didn’t think he bought you unconvincing act of being irritated with him at such remark.

“Don’t push it, Captain,” you warned him, but your treacherous mouth kept curling up in a smile, your body still buzzing with aftershocks of the kiss.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Uh-huh… s-sure,” you stuttered briefly as his thumb caressed your cheek, bright smiling eyes watching only inches from your face – and yet it felt like he was too far.

“You’re driving me crazy too, you know,” he noted in a breathy voice, causing you to gulp as his gaze flickered to your mouth, clearly implying how you do so… among other ways… like your stubbornness practically matching his.

“Oh really? I do? I couldn’t tell…”

He chuckled, his hand slipping to your nape, soft tickle of his fingers making you squirm.

“I’m gonna kiss you again now if that’s okay,” he whispered, not waiting for your permission and erasing the distance between your lips again.

Still, you whispered your approval to his mouth.

“So okay…”

Long moments later when Sam called out to warn you that you’d be landing soon, you said yes to the grumpy old man’s request to let him treat you dinner.

Oh if you only knew by then how far you’d come…

Lost in thought, goofy smile on your face, you exited the bathroom, ready to snuggle your future husband… and to fully take the opportunity to make love, last night before you officially became his and he became yours.

You had a brief second to register that the bed was empty, your heart skipping a started and disappointed beat. The second you stepped out though, you were literally swept off your feet.

A yelp erupted from your throat as you found yourself with no ground under your feet and high in the air, one of Steve’s arms under your knees, the other under your back. Your hands frantically gripped at the nearest firm point, Steve’s shoulder and arm as you finally realized what the hell happened and was met with a cheeky grin and sparkling blue of his eyes.

That traitor was waiting just by the door to ambush you! Why?

You slapped his very much bare shoulder playfully, hissing a curse, not unaware of the heat radiating of him and seeping into your skin.

“You jerk! You almost gave me a heart attack!” you complained, but he didn’t even have the decency to look apologetic.

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

“No, you’re not.”

Steve grinned wider, shrugging and pulling you closer to his torso, nuzzling your temple and dropping a placatory kiss there.

“Still looking a little cold.”

“No, I look like this because you scared me,” you emphasized, vainly trying to resist the seduction; a mixture of playfulness, sweetness and blatant display of strength as he still held you with ease. It was hard not to be temped. “And you look like you’re awfully warm, parading here without a shirt.”

“Well, I’d call us even since you’re parading around in these absolutely sinful shorts. Makes me hot. I can warm you up,” he mumbled to your skin, lips moving to your ear, causing you to shudder.

How was it so easy for him to make you all hot and bothered? You guessed that at least, as he said, it made you even... it wasn’t difficult to get him riled up either.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Driving you crazy?” Steve offered, sounding awfully delighted at the idea and you only melted into him further at the reminiscence of your first kiss and what followed.

“Always,” you confirmed, deadly serious, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips or the mewl that escaped you when his teeth grazed the shell of your ear, warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of your neck.

“But you love it.”

“Uh-huh…”

“I can live with that with that then,” he said, stalking to the bed determinately. “Now let me drive you so crazy you can barely speak and the only sound you’re making is whimpering my name.”

He all but tossed you on the bed, a yelp of his name in fact erupting from your throat, followed by a fit of giggles that only died when his mouth seized yours, his lips only leaving when heading south to indeed drive you crazy.

And yes; you loved it.

And you loved him too.

In one unending moment I fall within your reach My song a sweet surrender Hold on to me Hold on to me

Before the girls could steal you from him, Steve decided – with your enthusiastic agreement – that you should once again try how it felt to make some morning lovin’ outside marriage. With the ceremony planned for the late afternoon, you had plenty of time; and needless to say, it was bliss. Then again, you believed that marital sex with Steve would be just as delightfully pleasant, thank you very much.

Then, it was a whirlwind – make up, hair, dress, a tear or two spilled when you saw the result in the mirror.

More tears spilled when you glanced out of the window and saw the tastefully and modestly decorated arch, the path created by few scattered rose petals, the male part of your almost family sans Clint in the suits, effectively hiding Steve from you; and you from his just in case, because no one wanted any bad luck.

Your staring was interrupted when your brother went to pick you up to lead you down the aisle.

Upon entering the room and setting his gaze on you, he promptly looked away with a sniffle. It both warmed your heart and made you laugh as did his remark.

“Nope, not giving you to him. In fact, I’m never giving you to anyone. No one will ever be worthy, so I’m keeping you.”

“Hush, Clinton, you’ll still have me,” Natasha winked at him as he took a deep calming breath before carefully eyeing you again.

Clearly, it hadn’t done the job, because few tears still found their way down his cheeks.

“You’re a knock-out, sis,” he sputtered hastily, but no less honestly – clearly moved to tears.

And yet… you snorted at his choice of words and he rolled his eyes, quick to compliment your beauty instead.

You wouldn’t have it any other way though, even appreciating his first remark more for it came from the bottom of his heart rather than from what convention required.

Embracing you carefully in fear he would mess up the work of art his wife and other girls created, he held you in his arms for a moment, as you retuned the hug, clutching at his suit with a little too force. From the corner of your eye, you noticed the bridesmaids clearing the room.

“It’s not like I’m leaving you, Bobo,” you hummed with a smile, throwing his own words from last night at him.

And you weren’t leaving him; your heart swelled with love for your brother, your father figure, your long-life friend.

With sniffle, he let go of you and looked you up and down, proud smile spreading on his lips.

“It’s okay. If you are, I have the best spy in the world for a wife, we’ll drag your ass back home.”

You just slapped his chest playfully and took a deep breath – it was time. Clint grasped your hand firmly then, elbows interlocking, and went to step out just a moment after the bridesmaids left to join the groomsmen.

Well-aware everyone was going to stare and that Steve awaited you at the end of the aisle to marry you, your legs were shaking minutely as the magnitude of the event finally dawned to you.

“Getting second thoughts now?” Clint teased you, eliciting a chuckle from you and shake of your head.

What a question.

“No. Just… please don’t let me fall,” you muttered to him, entirely serious and grateful for your choice of footwear – simple flats hidden by the long flowing skirt of your dress. Better chance of not spraining your ankle on your wedding day.

“Never.”

Clint squeezed your hand under his warm palm and you took a deep breath, stepping into the doorway. Soft melody welcomed you, your very own wedding march Bruce was playing on a mouth organ – something you had previously had no idea he was capable of.

Looking up from your skirt, you feasted your eyes on the company and the beautiful scenery for only a regretfully short moment, grateful for Sam’s Redwing programmed to record and take photos.

Your gaze instinctively searched the small crowd instead, until it fell under the arch where three men stood.

One of them was Sam himself, having obtained a licence so he could be your wedding registrar; he looked positively dashing. So did Bucky, who patted his best friend dressed in his old-fashioned green captain uniform on the shoulder, his smirk visible even from tens feet away as he stepped back.

Naturally, your gaze lingered on Steve, your feet acting of their own accord and following your brother’s lead.

Gosh, your future husband was the most handsome and absolutely hottest specimen to ever walk the Earth. Hair combed neatly to one side and in his old army uniform, he truly looked like the gentleman from another era he was and yet, he undeniably belonged exactly where he was. His eyes were bright and blue just like the sky, lips slightly parting before curling up into a brilliant smile which somehow still carried the tenderness he treated you with when he felt particularly affectionate.

He must have uttered something under his breath, because Bucky pressed his lips together as if he was holding back laugh. The absolutely best best man, ladies and gentleman.

Your found yourself smiling just as widely, a stray tear tickling the corner of your eye and you had to fight the sudden urge to ditch Clint in order to gather your skirts and run the rest of the way just to jump into Steve’s arms.

But in reality, there was no rush – here, on the damn island Tony rented, there was so much time that one short walk meant nothing in comparison.

“Alright, maybe I’ll give you to him,” Clint whispered, making you bite the inside of your cheek so you would cackle.

Leave it to your brother he would find Steve Rogers so fine he’d be willing to give you out just to have him become a part of your family.

One corner of Steve’s lips twitched in amusement – supersoldier hearing didn’t miss the remark then. Good. Then Bucky heard it too and you had a witness just in case Clint would change his mind. Again.

Finally, with your heart almost in your throat, you reached the end of the aisle, Clint gently putting your hand into Steve’s… without letting go.

“You be nice to her, Cap. And I mean really nice, you hear? Or else-“

“Hush,” you hissed good-naturedly in your brother’s direction, winking at him before you returned your gaze to Steve. “Hey there, handsome.”

Steve chuckled under his breath when Clint stepped back. He returned the greeting with soft ‘hey there, beautiful’ and then proceeded to lift your joined hands, brushing your knuckles with his lips – just like the day you shared your first kiss.

Well now you truly found yourself on the verge of crying. And Lord, you wanted to kiss him so much-

Sam cleared his throat loudly, casting you both a meaningful look as if he could read your mind and wanted to remind you that there were a few things to go through before that could happen.

Ugh. Formalities. Just let me kiss him…

Steve licked his lips – the audacity! – and turned, lightly tugging at your hand so you both faced your friend who held a little leather book open, beckoning towards the guests: Bucky and Natasha, the best man and the best woman, Clint, Bruce, Tony, Vision, Wanda, Sharon, Pepper. Just your closest friends and family.

Sam cleared his throat again.

“Alright. We all know why we gathered here today. To get these two amazing people married, so they could officially become a special team within our team.”

You grinned, peripherally noticing Steve eyeing you as well. Team indeed.

“This is the part where I would ask all of you, bride and groom included, to speak up now if you’re aware of anything standing in the way of this wedlock or to remain silent forever. But frankly, if you have something to say, right now is the perfect time to keep it to yourself. Just let these lovebirds get married…”

Muffled laughter and giggles erupted from your group. Honestly, you wouldn’t say it better. You noticed Clint shifting and Natasha forcefully holding his hand down; you bit down on your lip so you wouldn’t laugh and sent her a grateful smile instead. The best maid of honour ever.

“Good, that’s what I wanted to hear, folks. We have the rings, correct? Great. Just so you know, these two saps asked me to read one vow which they are making to each other, because they didn’t trust themselves to say theirs individually without bursting into tears. So now it’s left to me to cry instead. Thanks for that.”

Your cheeks were honestly starting to hurt from smiling so wide, but tears prickled in your eyes acutely just at the thought of the vow you agreed on. You spent countless hours thinking about what you wanted to say and realized that your vow would be too long and that you would in fact start crying and that you could never name all the things you loved Steve for. It had been a relief to find out that Steve shared the sentiment and the deal was made.

Natasha and Bucky dutifully laid the rings on the pillow Wanda’s powers held levitating by your and Steve’s side – not without Bucky finding a split second to compliment your appearance and earning a brief smirk from Steve.

“I know,” Steve uttered and you wondered if there was a dare going around as to who would make you burst out laughing first.

This was your wedding dammit. You could be at least a bit a lady and remain collected.

Hardly.

“With this ring,” Sam started, breathing in and out and you knew you already lost, first tear rolling down your cheek as you gazed into Steve’s inviting eyes, “I give myself to you without giving up myself. With this ring, I surrender to you for I have faith you understand the value of wielding such power and for I deem you worthy of it. With this ring, I promise to love you, to respect you and to support you to be your best self as I trust you to do the same for me, for us.”

You blinked away the waterfalls, reaching almost blindly for Steve’s ring and with fingers trembling – with giddiness, not nerves – you somehow succeeded at slipping it on his left ring finger.

“I do,” you whispered, your voice cracking even in such simple sentence and the watery smile Steve graced you with made your ribcage feel too small for your swelling heart.

Fingers equally clumsy, he slipped a ring on you as well, shoulders squaring as if in pride.

“I do,” he said firmly, the damp path down his left cheek only adding severity to his vow.

“You may-- uhm, okay, you may kiss the bride, your wife--- I mean, Mrs. Rogers. You may kiss the groom, your husband…” Sam mumbled under his breath until he didn’t, because Steve pulled you in for a kiss the same moment Sam said the first ‘may’ and incidentally, the same moment you practically threw yourself at Steve.

Laughter and whistles erupted from the group of your friends as Steve bend you back dramatically, the determined press of his lips to yours not at all disrupted by the change of angle, claiming your mouth in ways that made you shudder and stirred flames in your belly.

Years and years later, you’d recall that kiss and realized an amazing thing; how it felt just like your first kiss, your last one, and every single one in between.

With you still practically horizontal, Steve’s crinkling eyes met yours, delighted smile on his kiss-swollen lips.

“I love you, Mrs. Rogers,” he hummed, adding a cheeky grin. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“The horror,” you muttered back teasingly, pulling at his nape, demanding another kiss, your own declaration whispered to his mouth. “I love you too, Mr. Rogers.”

And you did. Gosh, you did.

S.R. masterlist

(divider by firefly-graphics)

Well. This turned out SO DIFFERENTLY than I anticipated and SO MUCH LONGER. If you feel like leaving feedback, I’ll be grateful. If not, well. *shurgs*

Excuse me while I go and continue dreaming of ONE fictional man. Ugh. Anyway.

Thank you for reading!

And once again, thanks to WIYBUPT for hosting and for just being awesome in general :)

#catfa 10th anniversary challenge #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #barton reader #barton reader fic #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america imagine #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers fafiction #steve rogers fanfic #my timid hello my clumsy goodbye #anika ann

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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years

Text

see? - [Reid x Reader] - Chapter 3

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previous chapter // series index // next chapter

Summary: Months after Reader left, Reid has tried to put his life back together. He’s never stopped trying to find Reader, but he may find her in the worst way possible.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k for Chapter 3

Content Warning: Normal Criminal Minds stuff. Mentions of drug addiction. This series has a villain, and he harms women. There is no s*xual assault, but there is brief talk of torture, and then the death of the victims. Spoiler: Our unsub targets pregnant women, one of the infants does not survive. Reader and her baby are fine. I don't go into detail, but if you need to skip this, I understand.

A/n: How can I ever thank you all enough for being so patient with me? That being said, this chapter does end on a cliffhanger that you probably saw coming if you read “River” by @yours-truly-r. She shared this plot with me, so this is my version. I’ll try my best not to make you wait too long for chapter 4. Chapter 3 & 4 are in Spencer’s point of view, but the remainder of the series will be in Reader’s POV.

-- Linear Progression --

(Spencer’s POV)

The night we came back from my first case with the BAU, Morgan declared that he was going to a bar near his apartment to "get lucky." When I pointed out the fact that it was almost 2 am, he had told me, "time is an illusion, Pretty Boy."

That was the first time he called me pretty boy, along with the first time I tried to explain a theoretical concept he had no interest in hearing.

He was right to a degree. The way we understand time is an illusion. Time doesn’t happen in the linear way that we as a society perceive it to. The physics of time are still widely debated, but the running hypothesis is that everything that has ever happened is still happening right now. Every single moment in time is happening all at once, and it always will be.

Morgan didn’t “get lucky” that night, but he did give me a ride back to my apartment. I think that was the beginning of our friendship; I had never been able to understand the social constructs of relationships and friendships, but I think he felt some sort of responsibility for the skinny kid with glasses who was babbling about the physics of time at 3 am.

My friendship with Derek Morgan was one of the most important of my life.

Which is why I wasn't going to murder him for banging on my door at 7 am.

“Open up, Pretty Boy!”

Grumbling, I got out of bed and padded down the hallway towards my living room where Morgan was pounding on the door so hard, I was concerned it was going to fly off its hinges.

“If you break my door, you’re gonna fix it,” I muttered out when I finally pulled the door open.

The man who was the closest thing to a brother I had just smiled at me. “I restore houses, kid. It’d be an improvement.”

Smirking, I waved him into my apartment. In the months since…Since February, Morgan had made it a habit of coming by several times a week whenever we were in town. I don’t know if the rest of the team knew he did it, I don’t know if they were as worried about me as he was, but it wouldn’t have surprised me.

“Coffee?” I asked, making my way into the kitchen.

"We'll grab some on the way," he said, flopping down on my couch. "We have a case; I told Hotch I'd swing by and get you. It's wheels up as soon as we get there and finish the briefing."

I frowned. “I didn’t get any message.”

“I know. I asked Garcia to let me wake you.” He turned his head around to look at me. “You haven’t been sleeping, kid.”

He wasn’t wrong. “It’s…I’m trying, Derek.”

I didn’t need to say it, because he knew it. Much like time, recovery isn’t a linear process. You start, you stumble, you go back, sometimes you go up then down. It’s an imperfect journey because there isn’t a finish line; addiction can’t be beaten, only beaten back.

Derek Morgan had been beside me through every step of my recovery.

Lumbering off the couch, he walked over to stand before me. “Reid, you’re doing the best you can. Everyone stumbles.”

I shook my head. “It’s different. I can…I can still see it. I can still see it all, Morgan.”

I could still see the look on Ben’s face when he found the vials of Dilaudid I had hidden all around my apartment. I could still remember the look on Hotch’s face when he told me she was gone. I could still see the anger on Garcia’s face when she refused to help me find her.

Most of all, I remember how y/n looked when I told her I would kill her, give up her precious life, for one more moment with Maeve. Every morning, right before I wake up, that memory flashes behind my eyes.

I’ve called in every favor I’m owed, reached out to every connection; no one could find her. She vanished.

I quickly realized the only way she could vanish like that is if she had help from inside the bureau, and if I had to guess, I’m sure I know who helped her. If she went to all these lengths, she didn’t want to be found, least of all by me.

"We'll find her, Spencer," Morgan said gently, pulling me from my thoughts.

He said the words to comfort me, but even he knew they weren’t true. No one would find y/n y/l/n until she wanted to be found.

Nodding my head, I made my way back towards my bedroom to get ready for the case.

Making amends is very big in the recovery process. I wanted to make amends to y/n, and while I wanted that to be in the traditional sense, I settled for a symbolic one.

I tried to make myself into the man she thought I was before that night. Every time I felt the itch crawl up my spine, I thought of her face. It didn't make the craving go away; it just made it easier to bear.

I didn’t deserve to have her back in my life, but I wanted to be someone who did.

After I had finished getting ready, I made my way over to my bedside table to pick up the coin I carried with me everywhere, running my fingers over the edges before placing it in my pocket.

Two hundred and forty-seven days sober, and each one of them was for her.

We never made it to the bullpen that morning. Hotch called and informed us that it was wheels up "immediately," and that we would debrief on the plane. Morgan and I were the last members of the team to arrive. He took a seat on the couch beside Callahan while I opted to sit at the table across from Hotch and JJ.

“Garcia is going to be out for the remainder of the week. She has the flu,” our unit chief informed us, his eyes fixed on the tablet in front of him.

Morgan toyed with his phone, no doubt trying to text his ‘baby girl’ before take-off. “Who is going to be running things from here since she’s out? Kevin?”

Hotch nodded, but I couldn’t help but notice he seemed distracted. “He’s the most familiar with Garcia’s systems.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days,” Rossi muttered just a bit too loudly, earning a mock glare from Hotch, a confused look from Kate, an eye roll from Morgan and JJ, and a soft huff of laughter from me.

“Let’s get started,” Hotch ordered, drawing all of our focus back to the present. “The Oregon State Police have requested our help.”

I couldn’t help but wrinkle my nose at the tablet in front of me, further proof Garcia wasn’t on this case. Despite how mad she was at me over Y/n, she still always accommodated my wishes for paper files.

The state police?” Morgan asked. “Not the locals?”

"No," Hotch answered, right as I brought up an image on my screen. "He's not sticking to one county."

I heard a strangled gasp from JJ, but I didn't need to look up to know why. “How many?” I asked.

“When the original request was made two women had been abducted. Both of them were pregnant, days from giving birth, and both from the same town of Silverton, Oregon. The first victim was Iris Jenkins. She was a 31-year-old woman, and she was 40 weeks and 2 days gestation when she was taken by the unsub. The M.E. estimates he held her for less than 24 hours before she died.”

“The baby?” JJ asked, her voice thick with emotion.

“He was left outside of a local hospital in Silverton. He was completely unharmed. The next intended victim is Nancy Williamson. She was abducted outside her workplace. Also 40 weeks pregnant with a boy.”

“Could that be a coincidence?”

Hotch still didn’t look up from his tablet. “It could have been before the latest victim.”

“But Nicole Williamson escaped?” Morgan asked. “That’s lucky. Did she give a description of the guy?”

“No, she said he kept her blindfolded and bound to a chair.”

That caused me to pause. "That doesn't make sense. Why would the unsub blindfold them if he plans on killing them anyway?"

Rossi spoke for the first time. “Psychological torture? Sensory deprivation?”

I thought about that as I swiped through the crime scene photos; pausing when I saw a photograph of a letter on the screen. "He makes them write letters?”

“Just the first victim and the third. The one that got away was only held for 12 hours.”

I frowned. “Is this blood? Or just red ink?”

“The first is red ink, the second letter is still being processed.”

It was obvious based on the letter spacing and how many loops were in the letters that a woman wrote this letter. Based on the contents of the letter, I could also assume she was under duress.

Hotch spoke again, pulling my focus. “Morgan, I'd like for you and JJ to drive up to Silverton. Visit Miss Williamson and ask if she's up for a cognitive interview, then visit the M.E., ask him if he remembers anything about the first victim.”

“Where was the…” JJ’s question trailed off when he got to the same image Kate’s hand had been frozen over for the last 47 seconds, the same photo that was described in the incident report that Hotch had on his screen.

My unit chief, my friend, cleared his throat before he spoke. “Kayla Whitmore was found an hour ago in Eugene, Oregon. The autopsies are already underway, and the scene is being processed.”

“The cause of death seems pretty apparent,” Morgan said with a look of disgust on his face.

"The time between this most recent kill and the last abduction is much shorter. We need to move fast," Hotch said, his voice grave. "Kate, I'd like for you to come with me to the FBI satellite office in Bend, that's where we're landing. Kayla Whitmore's credit card was used to buy gas right outside the town limits. Rossi, I'd like for you and Reid to ride out to Eugene. It should be undisturbed."

"I already don't understand this guy," Rossi muttered. "The first baby survives, the third doesn't. The second victim is blindfolded, but it doesn't appear the others were. He makes them write their own letters. Then he uses the third victim's credit card. This behavior…it's erratic."

“Is the message on the wall the same in both crime scenes?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes.”

The media hadn’t named our unsub yet, but I was sure it wouldn’t be long, especially once word of Kayla Whitmore reached the public. This type of violence always draws attention.

Rossi was moving around the room, silent, but his eyes moving rapidly over everything. “He’s a cocky son of a bitch, I’ll give him that.”

I nodded. “Do we have the original note?” One of the deputies brought over an evidence bag, inside of it was the wrinkled piece of paper. “Have we analyzed this yet?”

The man nodded. “It’s red ink, just like the last.”

"It makes sense; blood might start to coagulate and make it more difficult to work with. Rossi, come here." I called, offering him the note.

“Give justice to the weak and the fatherless; maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute. Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked,” he read. “It sounds biblical.”

“It is. It’s Psalm 82, verses 3 through 4.”

“Was the first note biblical?”

“The first victim was made to write, ‘Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them.’ That’s from Ephesians. There are similar themes in both letters.”

“So, he’s perverting the bible to fit his own fucked up narrative? How original.” The older man handed the paper back to me. “We have to find out how he’s choosing them.”

My gaze moved over to the right wall of the room. "Did the unsub leave any prints when he wrote on the wall?"

It wasn't the first message I'd seen written in blood, but I don't think it's something you ever get used to. “’Do you see this, son of man?’ could be another biblical reference. It’s Ezekiel chapter 8, verse 17. “Do you see this, son of man? Yet you will see still greater abominations than these.’”

“So, are the children abominations? Or the mothers?” The deputy said quietly.

“The mothers,” I answered. “He doesn’t harm the children. I think it must go against his…moral code.”

The deputy scoffed behind me, and I was inclined to agree; the idea that someone could do something like this and have a moral code was almost impossible to imagine.

But devils hide in plain sight all the time.

“His rage is escalating,” I pointed out.

I heard the deputy ask Rossi what that meant.

“This guy is a bum,” the man who developed the art of profiling explained. "He can't get a girlfriend, and he has this idea in his mind that it’s the women’s fault. He thinks women owe him sex, love, whatever he wants.”

I walked away from the wall, turning to face the two men. “He thinks they’re dirty, unclean. It’s why he makes them write the note. By making them say they deserved what he did to them, he’s humiliating them even after death.”

The deputy’s face was pale as he survived the scene around him. “Why does he make them leave the messages in their own blood?”

“Only one message is from them,” I replied, gesturing to the evidence bag. “The message in the blood is from the unsub.”

Before we exited the room, I turned back to that message again, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Both victims had been discovered in the exact same way. The women were naked, stabbed multiple times, but with no signs of sexual assault. They were positioned in the middle of the blood-soaked mattress, their arms spread wide.

He had left the same message on the walls of the room, written in the blood of the woman he killed.

“Do you see this, son of man? Do you see?”

“The media is calling him The Prophet.”

Rossi scoffed. “I bet it was that wet behind the ears deputy who leaked the note and told him the kid’s biblical theories.”

Rossi and I had arrived at the FBI office in Bend, Oregon about an hour ago. Kate and Hotch had already set up; JJ and Morgan were on their way back from Silverton now.

“So, what do we know about this jag-off?” Rossi questioned, staring at the evidence board.

Hotch came to stand at the head of the conference table, his eyes sharp, his voice clipped. "Reid, Dave, what did the M.E. say about the Eugene autopsies?”

"He said he suspected it was a botched c-section. Kayla was just over 40 weeks pregnant, but he said it's not uncommon for first-time mothers to go up to 42 weeks.”

“I know that’s right,” I heard JJ mutter from the speaker placed in the center of the table.

“Indicates a lack of medical knowledge,” Morgan offered. “Because we know this guy isn’t squeamish.”

I agreed with my friend but didn't comment on it; my mind already on another topic. "What's interesting is that Kayla had an anterior placenta, meaning it attached to the front of her uterus. Usually, the placenta attaches to the posterior wall, meaning it's more towards her back. Because of the unusual placement of the placenta, I think that the death of this fetus was accidental."

“It wasn’t a fetus, Reid,” Kate snapped. “It was a baby.”

I cleared my throat, meeting her angry gaze. I knew Callahan was the guardian of a young girl, and based on my years working with fellow agents who were also parents, I knew it was best not to argue about definitions and semantics. "I'm sorry, Kate," I murmured.

Her gaze softened. "It's fine. Sorry. This case is just…this is a lot." She looked down to swipe across her tablet screen. "This child was a boy too?"

I nodded. “All three of the victims were pregnant with boys.”

“So, he wants boys?”

Rossi turned to Kate. “He wants mothers of boys. Probably his way of killing his mother over and over again.”

“But how does he know the babies are boys?” JJ asked.

“So, what do they have in common?” Hotch asked. “Let’s add Nicole Williamson into the mix too, what do we have?”

“There were quotes from the bible in the two complete notes. Those specific verses are often referenced when they speak about protecting children,” I said, my eyes moving over the files. “The women were all in their 20’s. They were all at least 39 weeks pregnant, and...huh, there’s not a father named in any of the medical charts.”

“But how does he know that!” JJ huffed again in frustration.

“And are we sure this unsub is a guy?” Callahan questioned. “There was no sign of sexual assault.”

“If we follow statistics, women take babies, and men take children. With that in mind, it would be safe to assume this was a woman, but the amount of rage we’re seeing makes me think it’s a man.” I turned my back to the team, my eyes moving over the crime scene photos. "The letter was written under duress, but the language is very misogynic. Based on the information Kevin gathered about Kayla's online life, she had a normal amount of self-esteem. It's out of character that she'd talk about herself this way. By all accounts, she was excited for the baby. It's also incredibly difficult to stab someone 54 times. All the women would have fought him until the end. He'd have to be stronger to subdue her. It's a biological instinct, mothers' will stop at nothing to protect their children."

Hotch had pulled out his phone before I finished speaking, dialing Kevin Lynch to give him the criteria of the person we were searching for. "We need women in the Bend, Oregon area that are close to giving birth. There will not be fathers listed on the medical charts. She'll be at least 39 weeks into her pregnancy."

“Alright, so that would leave us with…” Kevin wasn’t able to finish his sentence before an alarm started blaring over the speaker, almost drowning out Kevin’s yelp of surprise.

“What is it?” Hotch asked. “Did something happen?”

"I…I don't know, sir," Kevin answered after he had finally gotten the alarm to quiet. "I was running the search, and…it triggered some sort of system-wide alarm. It completely locked me out of Penny’s system.”

Morgan clicked his tongue. “That doesn’t make any sense. Penelope wouldn’t set some alarm without a reason.”

“Wait. Kevin, was there any sort of message that came up when you triggered the alarm?” Hotch asked, his tone urgent.

There was a weird tension on Hotch’s face while he waited for Kevin to reply. “Yeah, uh, just a dialogue box that says ‘Nightingale.’”

“Nightingale?” Kate asked. “Isn’t that the…”

Hotch didn't reply; he hung up abruptly while Kevin was still speaking. I felt a chill run down my spine when I noticed his hands trembled slightly.

“What is it, Hotch?” Rossi asked urgently.

But he never got a chance to answer; a deputy stormed into the room. "We just got a report of an abandoned car outside of a grocery store about half a mile from here. It's registered to a young woman, and there was an empty infant car seat strapped in the back."

Hotch took the paper from him but didn't look at it. His eyes were screwed shut, and his shoulders were tense.

I heard when the voice spoke on the other end of the line. I heard the deep breath Hotch let out before he spoke.

“Penelope, I need to know where y/n is.”

----------

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#Spencer Reid #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fan fic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #Spencer reid fic #Dr Reid #Reid #Spencer Reid x y/n #Spencer Reid x you #Reader insert #Dr Spencer Reid x Reader #Reid x Reader #Spencer Reid imagine #Criminal minds imagine

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jiejie-eonni-onee-sama · 3 years

Text

Mystery Girl

For the cute @multifandomfix 💝🌹

Hope you will like this gift!

"No, Gil! Don't tell me you agreed to this!"

"Sorry, Malcolm, but those are the orders of the hierarchy. Besides, having backup can't hurt you!"

The profiler shook his head, annoyed: he didn't need this!

Bright repeated to anyone who would listen that he preferred to profile criminals alone. Why pair him up with a stranger?

Grumbling, the young man nervously ran a hand through his hair. The police didn't want to let him work properly.

JT, one of his friends, patted him on the shoulder and said jokingly:

"Congratulations, Malcolm. You're about to discover an unknown concept: teamwork!

"Very funny, JT."

Dani, his colleague and best friend, tried to make him smile.

"Don't worry: I'm sure you'll be fine. You might even get along with your new partner!"

Malcolm rolled his eyes.

"I think you're very optimistic, Dani. They're going to send me some pimply, snooty kid from the best police academy who's more likely to get in my way than help me! So, sorry, but I'm not enthusiastic!"

"What do you know? You've never met them!"

At the same time, Gil joined them.

"Bright, your new partner is waiting for you in the office! Try to hide your bad mood!"

Letting out a long sigh of annoyance, Malcolm headed for the room, ranting in anticipation of this unwelcome partner.

"I hope Malcolm doesn't get upset!" muttered JT.

"The way he's in a bad mood, it's not looking good!" whispered Dani.

"Don't worry, both of you. When Malcolm meets our new profiler, I bet he will be different!"

Meanwhile, Bright walked into the room, expecting to run into an arrogant young graduate who would have already criticized his work to no avail without knowing a single detail about the case. Instead, he came across a lovely young woman who was reading the report of the initial investigations.

Forgetting his sour mood, Bright tried to make a good impression on the newcomer.

Quickly combing his hair and checking his breath, he cleared his throat, attracting the attention of the lady who looked up from her reading.

"Hello," she replied.

Malcolm noticed that she had a lovely voice. Charming must have been her middle name.

Smiling kindly, he introduced himself:

"Hello, you must be the new profiler. I'm..."

The young woman interrupted him with an amused smile.

"I know who you are, Malcolm Bright. I've heard a lot about you."

"Yes, I suppose you've heard that I'm crazy, insufferable, dangerous, and the spawn of a terrible serial killer. Don't bother with that: I hear it all day long!"

Placing the file back on the table, the young woman continued:

"Yes, I've heard that, but those aren't the only things I've heard. I understand that you are intelligent, perceptive, cultured, observant, and stubborn! All in all, an interesting person to work with!"

Bright was surprised!

"Wait, does that mean you asked your superiors to come and work with me?"

"Yes, I did. And from what I can see, you fit the description well: your clothing shows a comfortable lifestyle. I would say that you are very well off financially.

On the other hand, the paleness of your complexion and the dark circles appearing under your beautiful brown eyes indicate a poor sleep pattern, which can lead to one of two things.

Either you are an incorrigible party animal, or you are a man whose mind is always racing and troubled by traumatic memories. In your case, I'd go for the second hypothesis. You are a more complex person than most people want to believe."

Crossing her arms, she asked defiantly, a smile on her face:

"Now, Mr Bright, your turn: what can you deduce about me? Apart from the fact that I'm not a pimply little pretentious graduate!"

Malcolm winced: she had heard him!

"I assure you I had no idea who you were. Otherwise, I would never have allowed myself to say such things!"

"Judging without even knowing the people? Big mistake for a brilliant profiler like you, Malcolm!" laughed the young woman.

"Even the best make mistakes."

"If you can give me as much correct information as possible, I'll give you my name. If not, I'll let you search all day. Are you up to the challenge?"

"Challenge accepted. Well, let's see: who are you, mysterious miss?"

He circled the young woman, looking for the slightest detail that might give him information.

After a few minutes of observation, he gave his conclusions:

"From the look of your clothing, you are in a decent financial position. You are not a multi-millionaire, but you make a good living. You like simple, comfortable styles, probably because you like to look elegant and efficient at the same time.

Your posture and stature tell me that you are an athlete. I'd say you've done quite a bit of dancing, but your muscularity shows that you're a martial artist. Am I right?"

"I have a black belt in karate and judo, and I practice taekwondo, as well as ju-jitsu and Muay Thai. And I did a lot of dancing when I was younger."

"Haha! I was right. Well, as for the rest, I'd say you have an excellent photographic memory: you put that file down exactly where you took it. You are also a brilliant observer because you have deduced details of my life just by looking at me.

I suppose you are an artist in your spare time. I saw in your bag a sketchbook and a box of pencils. Both are well placed, which betrays your meticulous side.

Finally, I would say that you are a hard-working, kind and mischievous person. Your superiors must appreciate you enough to accept your request to come here. So, what do you say?"

Amused, the young woman clapped slowly.

"Well done, Malcolm Bright. You've lived up to your reputation. Everything you have deduced is correct."

"You will find me delighted. And now, to finish the introductions properly, may I know your name?"

"Of course: my name is (Y/N) (L/N), a certified FBI profiler."

"Pleased to meet you, Miss (Y/N) (L/N). Something tells me we'll work well together."

"That's what I hope."

Hiding behind the door, Gil, JT and Dani were relieved to see that Malcolm and (Y/N) seemed to be getting along well. Now, let's hope that this duo can be effective against the criminals that have New Yorkers on edge.

A few months later.

Sitting on a bench, Malcolm and (Y/N) enjoyed a hot chocolate while enjoying a beautiful autumn day. The two profilers wanted to have a quiet moment, away from the eyes of their colleagues and Malcolm's family!

"Are you going to tell them the truth about us, or are you going to let them stew for a while longer?" the young woman asked.

The profiler smiled mischievously.

"I think I'll let them work their brains out for a few days before I tell them everything. Just for the fun of seeing their faces when they learn the truth!"

"I didn't know you were such a tease!" joked (Y/N).

For all answers, Malcolm took the young woman's hand in his and placed a kiss on it.

"I'm a man full of surprises, my dear. Just like you!"

"You sure didn't expect me to kiss you first!"

Malcolm pretended to be offended.

"But I thought of it first!"

"Oh, did you?"

"Certainly. Let me prove it!"

The profiler leaned over and kissed his girlfriend on the lips.

Unfortunately, this sweet moment was interrupted by a ringing mobile phone.

"I think you should pick up the phone!" the young woman pointed out.

Grumbling, Malcolm picked up his mobile phone and picked it up:

"Hello?"

**"Hello, big brother!"**

"Good afternoon, Ainsley. To what do I owe this call?" the profiler asked.

**"I just wanted to let you know that Mum's inviting us to dinner at the house tonight. She's counting on your presence. Is that so?"** asked the reporter.

"I'll be there. It's not like I have a choice!" quipped Malcolm.

**"I'll take that as a yes... Oh, by the way, she'd like you to invite your mystery girlfriend!"**

At these words, the two lovers looked at each other in amazement: would Jessica know?

Controlling his stress, Malcolm replied:

"I don't know what she means, but I don't have a girlfriend!"

**"Oh yeah? Well then, you can tell me who the pretty lady you just kissed lovingly is!"**

Looking around him, the profiler spotted his little sister standing at the other end of the park and waving at him, a smirk on her face.

A little annoyed, Malcolm asked:

"Is your favourite pastime spying on me?"

"I admit it's very distracting. But I promise I won't tell Mum. I'll leave the great honour of making the introductions to you."

"I'm sure you'll be glad to, dear little sister."

"See you tonight, big brother. And give my regards to your lady of heart!"

When the conversation was over, (Y/N) smiled:

"It seems that someone has found out..."

"And unfortunately, it is my sister."

(Y/N) kissed her boyfriend on the cheek.

"Honey, I can't be your mystery girl forever anyway. They're going to have to know that!"

Malcolm smiled.

"I have to admit, you're right. In any case, my love for you will never be a mystery again."

Now that their secret love affair gets revealed, Malcolm and (Y/N) will have more time to unsolve differents mysteries...

Thanks for reading!

I hope you enjoyed the story!

Please don’t hesitate to request me a story and see you soon!

Take care! 😍🥰😘

#requests #gifts #prodigal son #malcolm bright #tom payne #zoe kravitz

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aestheticallyholland · 3 years

Text

NEVER NOT | AFTER YEARS . . .

❃ PAIRING tom holland x fem!reader

❃ DISCLAIMER i do not own the artists (and the reader) that are going to portray the characters, but i do own some of the their names. the plot of the story is inspired to the book and movie 'to all the boys i've loved before' but with changes. the gifs and photos used in this series are edited by me but i get credits to the originals. also, this series is first posted in wattpad by me. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST IT SOMEWHERE ELSE !

❃ WORD COUNT 2.8k words

❃ AUTHOR'S NOTES you have reached the final chapter of my tom holland series, never not! for those who have reached this part, i would like to say thank you so much for taking your time to read this cliche story that i wrote originally on wattpad, and hopefully, you enjoyed and loved it. thank you also for the constant reblogs and likes for each chapter in this series. i truly appreciate every reblog and like you gave. i also hope that you are satisfied with the ending of this series. with lots of love, lei <3

NEVER NOT MASTERPOST | LEI'S LIBRARY

"All love stories are tales of beginnings. When we talk about falling in love, we go to the beginning, to pinpoint the moment of freefall." - Meghan O'Rourke

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"ONE MORE POSE FOR ME!"

Flash.

"And another one!"

Flash.

"Alright!" Y/N exclaimed and removed her Canon 90D DSLR camera from her right eye. "That's it for today, guys! Great job everyone!" shouted once more and looked at the photos that she took from the monitor of the computer.

She was doing a photoshoot for one of the famous magazine companies, The Hollywood Reporter. She was one of the photographers for the magazine company for almost a year already. She surely was so happy to receive a call way back a year ago before that she was hired. And, she surely was so happy to pursue what she dreamed of.

"Great shots, Y/N. Great as always." Someone said from behind her and Y/N could just smile at the compliment.

"Thank you, Millie." She said and looked at Camille. Camille became a fashion designer like how she always wanted to be. She worked alongside Y/N in several photoshoots just this year, coincidentally.

"Want to grab some coffee on the way home?" Camille asked as she prepared her purse and placed it on her shoulder.

"Sure," Y/N said and got the hard drive that was plugged into the computer since all of the photos were there. Not only was she a photographer but also one of the editors for the magazines. "But after that, I gotta go somewhere."

"Are you gonna go to that place again?" Camille asked and Y/N looked at her and nodded as an answer. They walked out together as they were the only people left there.

"I'll probably call Erika after you go. Just gonna remind her about the reunion that our family had planned for this weekend." Camille said while walking beside Y/N.

"But she'll probably be with Harrison right now," Y/N said.

"They're still together all these years? Never knew she was a relationship person honestly." Camille said.

"Me either. But, she's happy so I'm happy for her." Y/N said.

They entered the coffeehouse that was packed with busy people. The scent of coffee went to their noses as soon as they got in.

"I totally forgot that it's still Friday today," Camille said. "So many people."

They lined up in the long line since there was only one cashier available.

"By the way, have you seen the latest movie?" Camille asked Y/N and she gave a confused look.

"Which one?" Y/N asked back.

"I think it was the— erm— The latest Spiderman movie. I don't know the full title but I heard they just released a new one this month." Camille said. "Tom is in it right?"

Tom.

That name that Y/N will never forget.

Y/N smiled under her breath before answering her. "Yeah, I guess."

After that, they just waited for the line to be shorter and shorter until they were the next one to order. After they ordered, they stood in the corner waiting for their coffee to be made.

"One cappuccino and latte for Y/N!"

"I'll get it," Camille said and walked fast to get their orders. She mouthed thank you to the lady and went to Y/N's side again. "Here's your cappuccino," Camille said and handed Y/N her drink as they made their way out of the coffeehouse.

"So, I'll see you on Monday at work?" Camille asked.

"Always." That was what Y/N answered. "Take care!" She added before waving goodbye to Camille and went in the opposite direction as her with her drink in her hand.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Y/N parked her car on the side of the empty road. After how many months, almost a year, of driving lessons, she could finally drive for herself.

Before she got out, she got her drink and her other things first and removed her coat. She got out of the car with her things and shut the door and locked it.

The wind suddenly blew her hair and she smiled at this great feeling. As she walked towards the sand, she took off her shoes and placed them in the same spot that she would sit on. Luckily, no one was in the place other than herself.

The sun was almost setting and the waves were still moving in the ocean. She had come to this place almost every day or at least most of the time. The light of the sun reflected on the sun symbol on her bracelet that he gave her a few years back. She sighed at the thought of him.

She had lost contact with him just almost a year ago because of his busy schedule but Harrison would be the one to tell her how Tom was doing and all. Well, not really lost contact but they rarely contacted each other for the past few months due to their work.

Although those had happened, she never stopped going back to this place that Tom wanted her to always go. This was the place that kept her alive and stress-free.

Their relationship had its ups and downs.

Tom became one of the most famous celebrities in the world ever since he got the role of being Spiderman. After that, he had more upcoming movies for the past years later on.

Although there may have been rumors about him being in a relationship with one of his co-stars, Zendaya, because of their roles in Spider-Man, her trust for him remain. Although at some point, it hurt her but that just passed away.

Overall, she was happy for him and for what he has achieved. She was so proud of what he had become. It didn't stop her from visiting his family's house and spending time with them.

"I wish you were here right now." She whispered to herself as the wind could not stop making her hair fly.

"And I'm here." A voice said from a distance but loud enough for her to hear. Her eyes widen at this very familiar voice and her eyes began to water.

She slowly looked in the direction of the voice that she heard and there stood the person that she has been waiting for.

He gave her the same smile that she would never forget. He still looked the same as before but he was more muscular now. He looked better in person than on the big screen or in his interviews. His brown hair is now shorter but still had curls on.

"Tom?" She whispered and he could just easily read her lips calling his name. He opened his arms widely for her. She then ran up to his open arms and did not think twice about wrapping her arms around him. He spun her around as soon as he closed his arms around her.

Her tears fell from her eyes while hugging him. When Tom heard her sob, he placed a hand on her head and stroked her hair. "I'm home, love." He whispered to her.

She pulled away for a while and admired him. His face features, his hair. Everything about him. She suddenly pinched his cheeks with both of her hands that surprised Tom.

"Ow! What was that for?" He asked as he felt the slight pain from the pinch. His voice is deeper than before and his British accent is kind of mixed with an American accent.

"You are real," Y/N said that made Tom chuckle.

She was still as adorable as always. Tom thought

"Of course I am. You thought you're hallucinating?" Tom asked her and she nodded.

"It's been so long to finally see you personally," Y/N said and she slapped him on the chest. "You kept me waiting you know!"

"I'm sorry, love." Tom apologized and kissed her forehead. "Four years, huh?"

"And three months," Y/N added while looking at him and grinned.

"You have been counting," Tom said that made Y/N nod. "I missed you so much." He said and pulled her for a hug again. "God, I do miss you."

"I missed you too, Thomas." She replied and noticed the scrunchie that was on his wrist. The same scrunchie that she gave him before. "You kept it." She said and held to his wrist where the scrunchie was and smiled at him.

"Of course. It really reminded me of you." He answered.

They decided to sit down and talked about each other's new life. Tom was surprised about Y/N's career since he never thought she would be into photography like his brother, Harry.

"Your mom really influenced me to go to that," Y/N said. "That's why I'm so grateful for her."

"I had a photoshoot in that company actually," Tom said and that made her eyes widen. "Really?" She asked.

"Yeah, but that was like two thousand seventeen or something." He answered.

"Your American accent is really showing up," Y/N said and smiled at him.

"Well, most of my roles required this accent which I'm good at, surprisingly." He answered.

"How long have you been here already?" She asked him, curiously.

"Just today. I told my family first and Harrison that I was coming back for a week's vacation. And, I wanted to surprise you." He answered and placed his arms around her shoulders. She placed her head on his shoulder and gave a relieved sigh. Her happiness cannot be measured right now.

"You wanna go to the water?" Tom said and Y/N suddenly ran away from him and giggled.

"If you could catch me first!" Y/N said and ran which made Tom scoffed a laugh.

"I will!" Tom said and chased after her. After a few seconds of running, Tom was a few inches away from her and scooped her legs and carried her bridal style and he walked towards the water.

"No! Put me down! The water is gonna be so cold!" Y/N said but Tom ignored her and laughed. Then, Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck and forcefully pushed both of them down together to the water.

"Holy shit, the water is so cold," Y/N said as she raised her head up from the water as well as Tom. "Damn you, Holland!"

"You're gonna pay for that," Tom said and splashed her with water and Y/N did the same. Basically, the couple had a water fight. They kept laughing and splashing on the water to each other even as they stood up.

Tom then grabbed Y/N's arm and pulled her closer to him. They both wrapped their arms around each other and Y/N just gave a light laugh.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"Do you have a towel in your car?" Tom asked as they got out of the water, their bodies and clothes soaking wet as they stayed there a while ago to watch the sunset.

"Yep. It's on the back. I came prepared." Y/N said as she gave Tom the keys and walked towards her car. Tom could just laugh.

Tom got the towel and wrapped it around Y/N's body and continued to hug her from behind. They decided to stay on the beach a little longer until they dried up. After a few minutes, they then went inside the car with Tom as a driver although Y/N insisted that she would drive.

They went directly to Y/N's apartment that she rented ever since she got her work. Tom parked in the basement of the building. As soon as they got out, Tom locked the cars and gave Y/N back her keys. They walked together and got to an elevator going to her apartment.

"How's your dad and Aria?" Tom asked as Y/N shoved the key on the doorknob.

"They are doing great actually," Y/N answered. "Aria got a job in New Zealand in tourism. And, will you believe that my dad actually got married a year ago?" Y/N said happily and opened the door.

"Really? I never heard of that." Tom said.

"Because we made it a private wedding so it's only our relatives and Mom Trina's family too," Y/N explained to Tom. "Mom Trina is an amazing woman and I'm glad they got to meet each other."

"Your mom will be happy that your dad is happy," Tom said and Y/N could only smile.

She placed her things down the counter table. "This is my home." She said to Tom who was looking everywhere in the apartment. "It's not that bad." He said.

"Yep. In my room, I get to see the city and the sunset and sunrise too." While Y/N was talking. Tom just kept staring at her, admiring her. He couldn't explain how happy he felt when he finally saw her again. He walked closer to her and wrapped his arms around her from behind. This startled Y/N a bit but she held his arms and leaned her back to his chest.

"How did I get so lucky to have you?" Tom whispered and moved her hair away and gave a peck on her neck.

"Destiny, I guess." She answered and turned around to face him. She saw him looked at her lips and decided to close the gap between them by pressing her lips to his. Tom responded to the kiss and pulled her closer to him. As soon as the kiss became heated, she jumped and wrapped her legs around Tom's waist and he was carrying her. He then walked towards her room and shut the room by kicking his foot at the door while kissing and carrying her.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The ray of light hit Y/N's eyes as soon as she woke up. She felt strong arms around her bare waist and she smiled. She yawned and stretched her legs before she tried to move Tom's arm around her. She could still hear his soft snores beside her. His curls are really showing off when his head was on the pillow. She tried to get up but was stopped when she felt a hand grabbing her wrist and pulling her back to the bed. Strong arms wrapped around her again but this time tighter.

"Tom!" She exclaimed.

"Don't leave me here," Tom mumbled while his eyes were still closed and snuggled his head to her neck which tickled a little.

"Alright, baby," Y/N said and snuggled back at him. "But I have to cook breakfast. It's like almost lunch already."

"That was a long long night." Tom teased and Y/N felt her cheeks heat up as she remembered what happened last night. She slapped Tom's arm playfully who just laughed at her. "Let's do it again," Tom whispered in her ear with a husky voice and attempted to kiss her again but Y/N covered his mouth with her hand.

"Nope, nope. Not happening." Y/N said as she shoved his arms away from her and stood up with the blanket wrapped around her. "You better go and shower, Holland!" She exclaimed as she exited her room.

"Join me, then!"

"Shut it, Thomas!"

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"Alright, we're on our way now, mum," Tom said through his phone as he drove in the road. "Love you too. Bye." He ended the call and placed his phone down. His eyes focusing on the road.

"What did she say?" Y/N asked.

"Harrison and Erika are already there and there done preparing." He answered and she just nodded as an answer. He glanced at her and smiled, taking her nearest hand and intertwining their fingers together. Y/N looked at him and smiled back. Tom decided to stop driving for a while which made Y/N confused. He parked the car on the side of the road.

"What's wrong?" Y/N asked, concerned.

"I just..." Tom paused for a while. "I'm just so happy that I got to see you again," Tom said and looked at her deep in her eyes.

Y/N placed a hand on his cheek and smiled. "Me too, Tom." She said.

"I'll take you with me once my vacation is over," Tom said and her eyes widen.

"But I have work—"

"I already talked to your manager and he's fine with it. He's gonna give you a break for a while." Tom said.

"How is that even possible?" She asked and giggled.

"Secret," Tom said and grinned. "I want you to see my work and some of the co-stars want to meet you."

"Seriously?" Y/N asked. "You talked about me to them?"

"Yep." Tom answered, emphasizing the 'p'. "Even the Avenger cast wants to meet you."

"Alright, then. I'll get to see celebrities." Y/N squealed and smiled at him. "At least I get to see my boyfriend work. This is exciting."

Tom placed a hand on her nape and pulled her head closer for him to kiss your forehead and lips.

"I love you, my love." He said. "You are my world and my everything."

Oh, how lucky they were for each other.

"I love you, too, Tom."

Always.

Forever.

Fin.

❝ WE WERE SO BEAUTIFUL

WE WERE SO TRAGIC

NO OTHER MAGIC

COULD EVER COMPARE ❞

❃ ANOTHER AUTHOR'S NOTE to add, feel free to also comment or reblog how this series was. i would lovre to read your thoughts and feelings about this series. once again, thank you for reading NEVER NOT, by yours truly 🦋

❃ TAGLIST @allthisfortommy @kait4073 @lovebittenbyevans @l0ve-0f-my-life @spiitfiires @robertpattinson-th @jackiehollanderr @butterflies-glitter

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland series

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hauntedbythefanficsofmypast · 4 years

Text

SuperChat September 2- No Powers

Masterlist

Adrien and Marinette took in the beautiful city of Metropolis as they stepped out of their hotel. "I owe you twenty bucks Mari. This place is beautiful." Marinette snorted, shaking, her head as he offered her his arm.

"What a gentleman, if only we weren't gay.” Marinette said, causing Adrien to laugh and shake his head. They started walking to the park they’d seen on their way to the hotel last night.

“Mari you’re only Bi. I’m clearly the gay one here. Sadly it took dating you to realize that not only were you my sister, but I preferred men.” This caused both of them to share a look before bursting into laughter. Adrien’s loud and eye catching, Marinette’s soft and fairy like, it’s safe to say they drew a lot of people’s eyes. Though neither of them noticed their admirers as they walked. They were too focused on each other.

“Thanks for coming with Adrien, I’m nervous for this show. Not only is it a big show with a lot of publicity, I haven’t even started on the main piece of the show and I only have a week and a half.” Marinette rambled on about her final outfit not noticing Adrien smiling at her fondly. “ I don’t know how I’m going to do this Adrien. An entire outfit inspired by Metropolis-ugh! I should’ve come here months ago! Now I’m on such a tight schedule! I’m going to fail and my name in fashion disgraced! I’ll have to leave the country and work at a coffee shop for the rest of my life!” This caused Adrien to laugh again as they walked into the park. He stopped causing Marinette to stop with him. Adrien turned to her and grabbed her forearms looking her dead in the eye.

“You worry too much Marinette. I know you’ll be able to pull this off, you’ve done more in a shorter amount of time. If anyone can draw inspiration from this beautiful city, it’s you.” He let go of her right arm and pulled out her sketchbook placing it in her hand. “You’re going to sit underneath that tree by the lake and take in the park. I am going to run to the cafe we passed, get myself something that will root my teeth and make my old dietitian cry and you something with so much espresso the barista is worried!” Marinette laughed softly and nodded taking her sketchbook completely from Adrien and pulling out her pencils.

“Very well, I shall sit down and wait for you to bring me my caffeine death. Make sure to text me if it’s going to take you longer than twenty minutes. Metropolis is much safer than most cities, but you know I worry.” Adrien laughed agreeing before heading off to the cafe, a bounce in his step.

He entered the cafe taking a deep breath, enjoying the smell of coffee beans. He was quick to get in line studying the menu, he hummed softly deciding when he would get. He stepped up and pulled out his wallet smiling cheerful at the barista. “Hello! I would like one chocolate chip frappe, extra chocolate chip, and a red velvet latte with as many expresso you are legally allowed to give!” The girl froze while putting his order in, looking up at him. “Yes, as much as possible.” He said laughing a bright smile on his face the girl nodded before giving him the total. Adrian happily paid, before putting twenty in the tip jar. He stepped to the side allowing others to move up as he waited for his drinks. He thanked them profusely before walking out of the cafe. On his way back to the park he noticed a crew of photographers and reporters standing outside the park. He walked past hoping none would realize he was former model Adrien Agreste. However one reporter caught his eye, a tall man with black hair and stunning blue eyes hidden behind glasses. Adrien paused looking at the man, until he realized the man was staring at him too. He blushed before turning hurrying quickly over to the tree Marinette was under. Jon watched him go before his attention was taken by his photographer again, but his thoughts remained on beautiful green eyes.

Jon was there to write a joint piece on the newly renovated park, he and a few others were dispersing across the park to take pictures and right notes about the new improvements. He and Megan set off towards the small pond together, he wrote down all the improvements while Megan took pictures. Megan hurried over to a couple sitting together under the tree. “Excuse me, we’re doing a piece on the renovations done to the park and I was hoping to get a picture of you relaxing under the tree.” Jon walked over and his eyes widened when blue met green. Finally able to take in the other man’s appearance and Jon couldn’t help but think he was the definition of beauty. A few seconds later he looked over at the girl he was sitting with and was astonished by her beauty. They were obviously a power couple together, Jon was almost jealous by their beauty. He was certainly jealous of Marinette, who he assumed was Adrien’s girlfriend.

“Yes we’d love to get pictures of you and your girlfriend.” He said smiling at Adrien, his smile wavered when the two burst into laughter. ‘Everything they do is beautiful.” Marinette smiled softly at the two placing her sketchbook down.

“We’d be more than happy to have a picture taken, however we are not a couple. I’m Marinette and this is my adoptive brother Adrien.” He introduced himself as hope swelled in Jon’s heart while Megan took pictures of them together, after Jon asked them what they thought of the park writing in his notebook. They chatted shortly before Megan pulled him away for more pictures. His eyes were constantly drifting back to Adrien sitting with Marinette. It was an hour later that he finally was able to break away, just in time as Marinette and Adrien were about to leave the park.

“Adrien!” Jon called out running up to him, Adrien turned looking at him in surprise. He shared a brief look with Marinette before giving Jon his full attention. “ Before you go, I was hoping I could take you out tonight?” Adrien blinked confused, while Marinette’s eyes widened a bright smile covering her face.

“Take me out? You mean like, on a date?” He said with surprise clear in his voice when he realized. Jon shifted nervously, positive he was about to be rejected.

“He’d love to! We are staying at Madeira just down the road, our place is 748, it's one of the penthouses. Be there at six thirty, he’ll be ready for you.” Marinette said excitedly before pulling out her sketchbook and writing down Adrien’s number, she ripped it out before giving it to Jon. “Now we must go! I need to get fabric, then help get you ready for your date!” Marinette pulled him away excitedly, and Adrien only had a few seconds to turn around and smile at Jon.

“I’ll see you at six thirty Jon!”

Jon was ten minutes early that night and stood outside the door nervously debating knocking or waiting until six thirty. Marinette decided for him when she opened giving him a mischievous look. “You’re here early.” She teased giggling softly when Jon blushed stuttering. She let him in allowing him to see their current home. He was greeted by a toy poodle who barked softly looking up at him. Marinette picked her up, smiling softly.

“This is Tikki, my poodle, over there on the couch in Adrien’s cat Plagg.”

Jon chuckled, giving a hello to Tikki petting the poodle gently. His eyes strayed to the manikin in the corner an unfinished outfit pin to it and cloth surrounding it. He surveyed the outfit and then the multiple garment bags hanging on a rack.

“Are you here for the fashion show?” He asked turning back to Marinette, who raised an eyebrow giving him an amused look. “Or do you just like designing clothing?” Marinette snorted smiling.

“You don’t pay attention to fashion much do you?” Jon shook his head causing Marinette to smile more. “I am not just here for the fashion show, I am running it. All the outfits there will be the designers under me, as well as mine over there. So you don’t know Adrien at all?” Jon shook his head again looking amused.

“Why would I know Adrien?” Marinette just gave him a mischievous smile telling him to ask during his date. Adrien came out soon after giving Jon a beautiful smile when their eyes met.

“Wow, you look amazing, like really really amazing.” Jon said smiling brightly offering his arm to Adrien. They walked out the door together laughing when Marinette told them not to stay out too late.

Jon managed to get them reservations at one of Metropolis’ most popular restaurants. Adrien was definitely impressed with their date so far, it helped that Jon was one of the most attractive people he’d ever seen. Although he could easily tell that Jon didn’t realize his own attractiveness. They made small talk asking small things about each other’s life until their dinner came. “So I gotta ask, what made you ask me on this date?” Adrien asked, taking a bite of his spaghetti. Jon blushed slightly as he chewed, debating how to answer before deciding to stick with the truth.

“You’re eyes, you have beautiful green eyes. I mean everything about you is beautiful.” Adrien blushed slightly but he smiled at the compliment. “Actually when I first saw you and Marinette together I thought you were a couple. It didn’t help that you two were both so damn beautiful. I really thought you were a couple!” Adrien snorted, looking up at Jon through his eyelashes.

“Funny enough, Mari and I actually dated. She helped me discover my sexuality and I realized I didn’t see her as anything more than a sister. I even moved in with her and her parents when my father...when my father went away.” Jon was quick to change the subject, when Adrien’s eyes looked sad.

“So you're here for the fashion show Marinette is running? Are you going to be in it?” He asked, causing Adrien to laugh, which made him happy. “You are certainly beautiful enough to be a model.” Jon complimented him causing Adrien to laugh again.

“I was a model growing up and I hated it. Marinette asks me to model occasionally, but it's only for parties or pictures for her website.” He took a sip of his drink leaning back in his chair. “I actually just graduated college and am taking time off, so I decided to travel with Mari. I majored in Chemistry, it was always one of my favorite classes, so I decided to make a career out of it” Jon smiled leaning back as well.

“I followed in my parent’s footsteps, both were reporters at the Daily Plant and I always loved writing. So it was an easy decision to make for my future.”

They spent the rest of the night getting to know each other until they ended up outside the siblings penthouse. Adrien was leaning against the door looking up at Jon. They just stood talking softly until Adrien yawned, causing Jon to suggest they saw goodnight. Adrien grabbed his arm and squeezed it smiling softly.

“I’d like to go out with you again Jon. I had a lot of fun tonight.” Jon nodded, smiling brightly before pulling out his phone and unlocking it. Adrien took it typing his number in and then texting himself before handing it back.

“I work tomorrow but if you’re free afterward I’d like to go out again.” Adrian agreed before leaning up and kissing Jon’s cheek.

“I’d love to, just let me know the time and place. I’m probably only going to be here unless Mari needs more fabric. See you tomorrow Jon.” Adrien winked at Jon, before entering the penthouse.

@superchat-september2k20

#superchat september #superchat #DC comics #ml x dc #DC Universe #miraculous ladybug #miraculous marinette #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #miraculous fandom #adrien agreste #jon kent

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blue-angel-wings · 4 years

Text

Bishop Drabble - take your times

18+ (because I got a little nasty for a brief moment hehe)

Characters: Bishop Losa x Reader (Y/N), basically all the Mayans briefly but mainly Angel, Coco, Gilly.

Summary: Reader is a single mum and close with the Mayans specifically Bishop, because they crushing on each other. And Emily Galindo being a bitch because I don’t like her 😊.

Warnings: Cursing, horny talks but not full blown smut, slight talk of injuries.

Word count: 3,768 it’s longer because I got carried away 😈

You had known the Mayans since you were little, although your Father wasn’t a patch he always helped them.

As a day job your Father owned a small car dealership and would often frequent Romero scrap and salvage for odd pieces to use on whatever new vehicle he was working on, but behind the calm face of a man who liked cars and bikes, was a trained assassin, murder for hire, hitman, whatever you wanted to call it. So over time your Dad did jobs for the Mayans. Through that they met you and whilst your Mother didn’t really like the Mayans knowing your family she had to admit it was useful always having a group of knights in shiny leather to hand.

Your father had been killed one a run with them when you were sixteen years old, and ever since then the club had take your Fathers place with you and your mother. She worked the bar sometimes and whilst you chose to work elsewhere you always attend the parties, well as much as you could whilst also being a single parent. At the age of eighteen you became a mother to a beautiful baby boy you lovingly named Rio. The guys were shocked but supportive and excited for the new little baby in their lives. The Dad of your son decided that a baby wouldn’t work for him so he ran. Not like you needed him.

Yours and Bishop’s relationship had only just started, you had been on a few dates but you spoke constantly and you may have slept with him on a few occasions, because who could resist a man like that. He had started to find you attractive once you showed up more. For your safety and now Rio’s your Mother kept you away from the guys until you were in your twenties, so when you turned twenty one and could legally drink you knew exactly where you were going to get wasted for the first time. The clubhouse.

Ever since Bishop saw you in a tiny black dress that made your body just look too good he knew we wanted you but stayed back not wanting to look like a perv who only dated girls half his age. He admired you for years, how you raised Rio somewhat alone, how you always helped the club without a complaint, how you deeply cared for the guys and he just couldn’t helped that he fell for you more and more.

But he was done waiting and at Rio’s eighth birthday party, whilst you stood there playing nice with the other parents from the prestigious school you sent Rio to, and whilst wearing jeans that Bishop swore were painted on, he asked you out.

You thanked the heavens he did because you were getting sick of the waiting game.

A few months had passed and although you had been on dates, Bishop was yet to ask you to be his. It was almost like he was still scared that you would reject him. During the day he was almost shy around you not saying much or interacting with you as much as you hoped almost like he feared he would say or do something wrong, but at night he’d have you shaking in ecstasy on a bed drenched with your arousal, whilst whispering the nastiest shit you’d ever heard.

You didn’t think too much about it you knew he loved you deep down he was just struggling to say it, he had no problem showing it through his actions and you saw the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t looking. But saying the words that would make you his girl officially, he just couldn’t manage do that.

At Rio’s birthday he had been gifted a skate board. A small red plank of wood you swore would be the end of your son. And although Angel had also purchased a helmet to go with it, your son seemingly refused to wear it. He constantly rode it without the helmet no matter how much you asked him to, it was like he was allergic.

You had taken the board away once he started to show zero regard for himself and others. Swerving through people on the sidewalk was okay if it was quiet and people moved out the way in time, but once he started heading towards the roads without his helmet you called time on his little Tony Hawk phase.

A few weeks passed before he grew restless and bored without it. He had come looking for you with full safety gear on, helmet, knee pads, elbow pads and little gloves. And you cracked, you gave him back his death board and sent him on his way.

Rio’s school was just out of Santo Padre and about 45 mins away from your home, it was a bit of nuisance being so far from you but your son was smart, too smart. He had eidetic imagery or as some would say photographic memory. He had shown signs when he was little, about 4 or 5, when he was able to recall in perfect detail his toys as if they were still there in front of you. It was terrifying to you but when the doctor explained what it was you were stunned. Due to his abilities you sent him to a school that burned a whole in your pockets each month but was perfect for your little boy. He loved it, he excelled at all subjects aced every test and had a big group of friends that were surprisingly pleasant children.

The Mayans clubhouse was only twenty minutes away from Rio’s school. And when work had started to get busier, you couldn’t pick him up from school anymore. You generally finished worked at the boutique in town at 4:30 an hour after Rio had finished school, you hadn’t given him a key to the house out of fear he would lose it, so you suggested he’d ride his board to the clubhouse and then once you were done you would pick him up. It worked out great, the guys loved having him there and you got to see Bishop more.

The guys were just chilling at the club, the younger ones were playing poker and smoking whilst the elders were in templo.

‘What the fuck prospect!?’ Slamming his cards on the table in a frenzy, Coco practically threw his money at the chuckling Ezekiel who in return shook his head at the snipers antics.

‘Not a prospect anymore bro, imma patch now.’ He said smugly, pointing lazily at the patch on his kutte.

‘Keep taking my money and I will change that real quick.’ Coco was pissed, he owed Ez about $300 from just this afternoon alone.

At the front porch Angel and Gilly were working the yard when they heard the slight rattling of small wheels of the stones, lifting their heads just in time to see the arrival of Rio on his board. They had to admit when they purchased the board for him they were worried he’d be crap at it and give up, but we wasn’t. The guys sometimes rode behind him on their bikes just to watch his skate. It was mesmerising.

Happily finishing up their work, Angel nudged Gilly towards the clubhouse to tell the others of your son’s arrival.

‘Hey, Rio’s here.’ The larger man bellowed into the space causing the other Mayans to stop what they were doing and follow him out.

Outside Angel had Rio swinging from his neck, when Rio was around the Mayans he deliberately acted younger to get more attention, the guys didn’t do anything to stop him they enjoyed him acting all silly and somewhat babyish, it stopped the sad truth of him getting older right before their eyes from rising to the surface.

‘Hey little guy, how was the ride in?’ El presidente asked the boy whilst messing with his hair, that he spent hours getting perfect for school.

Bishop was closest to Rio, well joint with Angel. Rio saw Bishop as a father figure, much to your delight, and Angel as a brother figure.

‘It was okay, some car was following me really closely and honking at me.’ He pouted whilst spinning the wheels on his board.

The men perked up at the sound of somebody pestering the young boy.

‘ I don’t know why though, mama says I can ride in the road if I stay to the side out of the way with my helmet on.’ Rio didn’t seem to be upset, more worried he was defying your rules of riding his skateboard.

‘Well, what did the car look like?’ Creeper asked whilst blowing the smoke from his cigarette behind him, being mindful of the small child in front of him.

‘A black Lexus RX Hybrid, black tinted windows, driver was a middle aged male, bald, tattoos up his arms.....’ the boy rambled on, his memory working overtime. The guys stopped him mid way through not wanting him to worry himself with the stranger who was bothering him. They assured him he did nothing wrong and took him into clubhouse.

None of the other guys recognised description of the car or driver, but Ez did. He knew who was sat in the back of the vehicle, whilst they texted him and continued to call upon him every waking second of the day. He heard the sound of a car coming to a halt at the front of the scrap yard, he knew this was the car that was following Rio plus he saw the man Rio had described in great detail. He glanced at his phone to check if his suspicions were true. His screen was flooded with notifications of texts and calls, and some social media notifications, all from the same person.

Emily Galindo.

She had been contacting Ez, at first he didn’t mind the contact from his ex, he selfishly used to want the relationship to rekindle with the married woman, but now with Gabby in his life he didn’t, he wanted her gone. She nodded to his trailer, with a pleading look is her eyes he succumbed to her request, checked nobody was around and headed to his trailer.

‘Do you have any Capri-Suns i’m kinda thirsty?’ Rio asked, cheekily checking behind the bar for something to eat hoping one of guys would fulfil his request. Bishop smirked reached into the fridge round the corner and retrieved two orange Capri-Sun pouches and grasped the bag of Doritos they kept on top of the fridge for him to munch on as well.

‘How’s school going mate?’ Bishop genuinely enjoyed talking with Rio because he reminded him of you, he much like yourself, was so passionate even over the little things.

Bishop played with Rio’s discarded school tie, folding it neatly knowing you hated ironing it.

‘It was alright, we learning about dinosaurs in science which is cool cos I really like Jurassic park and I’m gonna ask mama later if we can watch it.’ Rio exclaimed loudly waving his hands around wildly. He continues to tell Bishop about school, avoiding telling him about the masses of homework that was set knowing the older man would tell him to do it and wouldn’t drop it until it was done. The conversation was interrupted by Angel who had just got finished on a call.

‘Hey Rio, your Mum just called saying she got caught up at work and won’t be picking up til 5.’ The oldest Reyes told the child who was seemingly unbothered by the change of plans, but the news had Bishop frowning, why didn’t you call him, you knew he didn’t have Templo today so he would have his phone on him?

‘Okay, can I go practice my kick flips out front?’ He asked the president.

‘Yeah sure, take one of guys to watch you incase you fall, and remember to map out where your skating with the cones.’

‘Yeah I think I can remember that.’ He teased the older man, by referencing his condition.

The guys had bought these little orange cones for him to use when he was skating in the yard so he didn’t get in the way of them working.

Bishop lightly shoved him in the direction of the door with a shake of his head, he needed to call you, the jealously he felt when you called Angel instead of him was growing unbearable. Was it Angel stretching out your tight little pussy each night? Was it Angel that had you screaming with his head between your legs? Was it Angel that you called Daddy? Was it Angel that had you making the most delicious moans?

No it wasn’t, it was Bishop.

So why weren’t you calling him?

It was 5:30 when you pulled up to the scrap yard to retrieve your child. You surveyed the grounds looking for Rio once you had parked. But when you were greeted with the noise of laughter, you opted to follow that. Turning off your car you headed to the front porch where a groaning Coco was laying on the floor clutching his arm. You walked over not too worried seeming as the sniper had sustained worse injuries than a scrape on the arm.

‘You okay there Coco baby?’

You squatted beside the man and glanced as the injury on his arm, there wasn’t more that’s a slight graze on his elbow however from he noises he was now making you’d think he’d been shot.

‘No! This piece of sh-‘ you clapped a hand over this mouth before he could finish once you realised that the giggling you heard earlier came from your son, who sat comfortably in Gilly’s lap at the bench a few feet away. Standing up, leaving Coco to get on with it, you walked over to your son to kiss his forehead.

‘You okay baby? School was good?’

‘Yeah it was good we are doing dinosaurs in science so I was wondering if I can watch Jurassic park tonight to learn more about T-rex’s, please? ‘ he pleaded with both hands clasped together.

‘Of course baby.’ You went to say more but you saw Bishop on the step, looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

You knew why though, in an attempt to push Bishop to ask you to his girl you messed with him a little by deliberately calling Angel instead of him to inform the guys of the change of plans. Normally you wouldn’t mess with the man who so clearly had control of the reigns in the relationship but you were sick of waiting, you wanted him and he wanted you, the hickies on your breasts and inner thighs confirming that.

You kissed Rio’s head and Gilly’s, once he jokingly pointed to his forehead, and headed towards Bishop. He turned without a word and heard towards the clubhouse, the guys waited a few minutes before following suit, not wanting to miss the potential start of your long awaited romance. Rio was left alone to skate outside after he said he wanted to practice a little more, Angel was happy to leave him out there alone knowing he could ride perfectly fine.

Bishop sat on a couch in the far corner and when you went to sit next to him he grasped your wrist and manoeuvred you onto his lap, well this is a good start you thought.

‘How was work?’ He asked whilst sneaking a peek at your cleavage that you pushed up slightly before you left work.

‘It was good, busy which is good. A little tired and my feet hurt.’ You answered, slightly wriggling your feet. Bishop caught on quickly, removing you shoes and and starting to rub your feet slightly, causing a slight moan to slip from your lips.

‘Y/N I want to ask you something.’

Here it comes, you acted calm almost ignorant to what he was saying but inside you were screaming.

‘I really like you and I love spending time with you, you make me feel like a little kid with his first crush. You’re my first thought in the morning and last thought at night. I wanna be with you always and forever, so i was won—‘

‘Hey!’

Bishop’s monologue was cut short by a small voice you recognised to be your son’s. Every head in the clubhouse turn so quickly you feared they all get whiplash.

Grabbing your shoes and placing them haphazardly on your feet you all but sprinted to the front porch, where the now female voice could be heard.

Running out you saw your son sat on the floor fighting back tears and Emily Galindo standing over him slightly. She obviously was leaving Ez’s trailer, because that’s what married women do, they meet with their ex’s in trailers behind their husband’s back.

‘Hey baby you okay, are you injured?’

You rushed to your sons side as well as Bishop, who carefully picks up Rio’s skate board that was currently sporting a large crack in the middle of the wood.

‘No, I’m okay mama.’ He whispered growing embarrassed at the crowd around him, his bottom lip started to tremble telling you that tears where only moments away. Bishop started brushing the hair off of Rio’s face to calm the young boy, he too knew Rio hated crying in front of crowds.

‘What happened sweetheart?’ You spoke quietly not wanting to blow up too much in front of your son, you’d had a long day at work and you didn’t have time for a confrontation today. You wanted this sorted so you can go back to Bishop and then go home.

‘He wasn’t watching where he was going!’ The blonde woman spoke, the venom in her voice unnecessary in this situation.

‘I wasn’t fucking talking to you!’ Apparently you did have time today. All heads snapped to you and Gilly managed to scoop Rio into his arms before you whipped yourself in front of the culprit of your son’s upset.

‘So that warrants you to push him!? A small, eight year old child!? Did you not see the cones hun? They are bright fucking orange, maybe if you lifted your head of your ex’s dick for a moment you would see my son skating out here.’ The guys were loving it, watching with smirks on their faces.

‘Somebody should’ve been watching him.’

‘Hah okay sweetheart.’ You scoffed, you worked in retail you could handle opportunists like Emily Galindo.

‘I’m hardly gonna take parenting advice from you, am I? Mrs Galindo.’ You emphasised her name in the hopes she’d remember her marriage and start acting like a wife.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Well you’re hardly mother of the year, not after your practically gave your son away to a terrorist.’ You weren’t backing down, gasps were heard throughout the yard, the hang-arounds emerging in the hopes of a fight.

‘Thats not fair, they were armed and I was terrified.’ She tried to reason with you, who would try to rationalise their son’s kidnapping?

‘See that’s the difference between you and me, Emily, see they would have to pry my son from my cold, dead hands.’

‘They were shooting people right in front of me!’

‘I’d let them shoot every motherfucking bitch in this town before they ever laid a hand on my child!’

You screamed in her face, women like Emily didn’t deserve the love or attention they received.

‘I just hope his four nannies that actually raise him coped alright during that time.’ That was it, the final straw. She raised her hand but you never cowered, she went to slap you but al she could do is try. You got there first taking the board from Bishop’s hands and slapping her in the stomach, so it’s not as obvious as a face injury, you didn’t fancy having the cartel on your ass.

She doubled over in pain and screamed, clutching her ribs. You didn’t hear a crack but you knew it mustn’t of ickled.

‘Ez take the whore back to her car, tell the driver the pain is due to her period that’s just started, and it’s nothing to worry about.’

Ez nodded and quickly moved Emily from the scene, not daring to speak a word incase he got the same treatment.

You spun around and thanked heavens that Gilly had taken Rio inside, although you knew the Mayan would be pissed that he missed the altercation.

‘Damn Mamas you got some claws!’ Taza was the first to break the silence, beaming at you and your display of violence. You pulled into his embrace and chuckled.

‘Yeah it was kinda hot seeing you all angry’

Of course Coco was the one to turn it into a dirty joke. All the guys gathered round you and starting joking about you joining UFC.

But one man was quiet, too quiet. Bishop was yet to move a muscle let alone say anything, you worried it was too much and that your outburst made him change his mind.

The guys followed your eyes to the president behind them.

‘Let’s go inside and check on Rio, yeah guys?’

Riz encouraged the guys to move, catching on that you needed a moment alone with their president.

‘Bishop I’m so sorry about that, I just freaked when I saw Rio on the floor, I know this probably fucks things up with Galindo. And I get it if you take back what you said inside, it’s just I—‘ you were stopped short by a pair of lips on yours, you took a few seconds or realise they were Bishop’s, you moved your lips in sync with his and after what felt like a lifetime you pulled away for air.

‘I guess I gotta make you mine to watch over you now. Can’t have to terrorising the streets with the this can I?’ He joked whilst holding up Rio’s now fully snapped board

‘You still wanna be with me after that?’

‘Yeah I do because I’m in love with you.’

You melted right there on the spot, you laughed a little at your previous panic.

He leant in close to whisper in your ear

‘Plus Coco was right, it was fucking hot.’

You groaned and palmed his chest playfully. You finally had it, a perfect little family, it was about time. You went back to kissing Bishop and at this moment nothing could go wrong.

‘Hey, my board! What the hell Mom!’

Taglist: @mayans-sauce @one-shot-plus-size

#mayans mc #bishop 🥰🥰#bishop losa #my fics

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queerbutstillhere · 5 years

Text

Addressing the Batman Conspiracy theories, on the Wayne Family true crime podcast.

(this is based off of my post. I just had fun with this, and yes it's very chaotic. I hope it makes sense!)

"Welcome, listeners, to this months episode of the Wayne Family Circus-"

"That is NOT what it is called and you know it!"

"Okay okay! Shut up Tim!"

There was a hard cut in the audio. You, the listener, smile and put your car into reverse, backing out of your parking spot, you had a long drive to get home, and hopefully this new podcast will entertain you.

"As I was saying! Welcome to episode seven of Crime In Our Midst - I still hate that name - today we are discussing our most requested case. The Mysterious Batman. We will be discussing where he came from, and conspiracy theories involving him," the voice said, ending with a hum. "Today, I am your host, and for anyone who doesn't know, I'm Dick Grayson, the eldest Wayne child. To my left is our illustrious father, and number one theory for today, Bruce Wayne."

"Dick, I told you I didn't want-" a new, deeper male voice started.

"Next to him is Jason, the second eldest and the wildcard of the family."

"Sup bi*****," was the voice response.

"Master Jason," an older accented voice inputted.

"Sorry Alfie."

"Then we have Cassandra Cain-Wayne."

"Hello!" A chipper female voice said.

"They can't see you wave, Cass."

"Oh, sorry."

"Tim Drake is also present, as always. Tim have you ever missed an episode?"

"No," a softer male voice said with a hum.

"Even Damian has missed."

"Tt, that is because I have a life, unlike Drake."

"I am literally a CEO-"

"And just then you heard Damian Wayne, our youngest and saltiest member. Say Hi, Damian."

"Salutations," a younger sounding, yet still accented voice said.

"So formal," the host, Dick, said with a laugh. "And always, we are moderated by our Butler and Grandfather, Alfred Pennyworth!"

"Hello, listeners."

"And this week, we are joined by special guest, Barbara Gordon, daughter of Ex-Commissioner, Jim Gordon. He's not here in person, because he said, and I quote, 'This is bs and there's no amount of money you could pay me to be on your weird podcast'. To which I would like to counter, Jim, we most likely could pay that amount of money-"

"Grayson, you're rambling again," Damian said, sounding annoyed.

"Why did Dick get to host this episode?" Jason asked.

"Because it's Bruce didn't want to, so it was my turn next, shut up Jason."

"Come at me!"

There was another hard cut and a few seconds of pause. You chuckled, already enjoying this pointless bickering.

"So. We're going to start at the beginning. Batman, the masked vigilante who guards Gotham and battles crime, appeared way back when in the 2000's. He was considered a criminal for a long time, mostly due to his method of fear and violence, despite that he never killed, and solved countless cold cases - much like we do, if I might add -" Dick started explaining, paper could be heard rustling.

"Yeah but we don't dress up in spandex and go out every night and punch people, Dick."

"Okay, obviously, Jason."

There was muffled sniggering and then a grunt as someone got hit.

"Boys, calm down and let your brother finish explaining."

"Thank you, Bruce!" Dick exclaimed, there was the beginning of a yell and then another audio cut.

"Batman eventually became a founding member of the Justice League of America, alongside heroes such as Superman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Green Lantern and the Flash. It was around this time his protege, Robin, joined his side for the first time. Batman would eventually become the hero of our city, stopping criminals such as the Joker, Bane, Harley Quinn, the Riddler, and Poison Ivy, whom we all Stan," Dick's smooth voice continued.

"Dick," Bruce warned.

"Continuing! It is believed that Batman has had five or six different Robin's over the years, including two female ones, though neither were Robin for very long. The Batman has become a international, and even interstellar hero, working with the Green Lantern Corp on many occasions. I don't think I need to go into further detail, as almost everyone knows who the Batman is. Now let's get into theories!"

"Oh, finally," Tim said, followed by a muffled yawn.

"Shush, Drake. Let Grayson finish talking."

"Now most the theories are about Batman's secret identity or where he came from, right? And obviously the number one theory is that Bruce Wayne, our dear daddy here, is Batman."

"Do not ever say those words again," Jason groaned out.

"I most likely will."

"Can we all just agree this theory is absolute bulls***?"

"Damian!"

"I am speaking the truth father. I live with you, I can confidentially say you do not spend your nights running around Gotham unless it is in a sports car with some annoying woman-"

"Master Damian."

"My apologies Alfred."

"Can I give the evidence?!" Dick exclaimed.

There was mocking noises, and yet ANOTHER hard audio cut.

"So the main source of evidence is that Bruce Wayne and Batman have never been seen together. Which isn't true, because I have seen, and there is photographic evidence of such, which of course, you can find on our website!"

"The second evidence is something about them having the same a**, which I would rather not go into because of obvious reasons. Third, is all of us kids, somebody on Reddit mapped out all of our arrivals with in a years time of the Robin's arrival, and they think that we are the Robin's."

"Implausible. Have you seen Drake? He couldn't be a Robin, he'd snap right in half. And the second Robin died in an explosions, wouldn't that be Jason?" Damian countered.

"There actually was a kid Bruce fostered for a bit named Jason that actually died in an accident," Dick explained. "People think that Jason is the Robin."

"So we're not going to discuss the fact that you had another kid named Jason?"

"Jason, we've already discussed this a million times, I did not bring you into the family because of your name-"

"Can I continue?!"

"Please," A female voice piped in, Cass.

"Okay, the rest of the evidence is just kinda, fishy, I guess? Someone reports having heard Bruce actively state he was Batman as an excuse to not be on a jury duty, but let's be honest, who hasn't? Lastly is that Bruce Wayne disappears a lot around the time big things are happening, which is quote 'awfully coincidentally.' but circumstantial. An example of this is about five years back, Batman and Bruce Wayne both disappeared for a week, and then when Batman came back, he was reportedly 'different, more cheerful, and more charming. Less threatening', while Bruce Wayne remainder missing. Nearly a year later, Bruce Wayne returned, and Batman once again became gruff and intimidating. Shall we discuss this theory?"

"I don't see what we need to discuss," Damian grumbled.

"It's really not good evidence, but it is a good theory," Tim chipped in.

Jason spoke next. "I haven't been here for long, so it seems plausible to me."

"Jason!"

"What?!"

More bickering. Audio cut. This is getting a little weird with all the audio cuts.

"I think we can all agree that Bruce is not Batman," Cass said finally.

"Dad thinks the Bruce Wayne theory is dumb, and he's been working with Batman since year two. They're nothing alike. He suspected Bruce for a few years, but started seeing them in the same room and area and finally had to drop the theory," another female voice spoke, sounding bored.

"See? So, not plausible, moving on," Damian said dismissively.

The next theory was about some random middle aged man, the whole team thought this one wasn't terribly plausible either.

The third theory was that Batman was some type of alien, and this caused a lot of loud bickering and arguing.

The final theory was that Batman was a vampire, and all the kids seemed to like this theory, while Bruce was less then amused.

"Okay, Bruce, who do you think the Batman is?" Jason asked the second Dick closed out his presentation.

"I think he's a hero who protects the city and the planet, and had saved my life, and the lives of those closest too me, many times. If he wishes to keep his identity secret, then we should respect that the same way we respect Superman and Wonder Woman."

"Boooooo!" Jason and Tim yelled.

"Come on, Bruce. Really, give us an answer."

"Okay, I can't because I do actually know who it is," Bruce admitted.

"WHAT?" Tim screeched.

"You know who the Batman is and never told us?!" Dick exclaimed.

"Did you really miss his speech just now?" Damian asked with a huff. "He obviously wants to protect The Batman."

"You won't tell us?" Cass asked.

"Nope."

More bickering over this for a moment.

"Okay, how many agree with Vampire theory?" Dick asked.

There was a pause in the audio.

"Okay that's four. Any takers on alien theory? . . . No hands. Smith theory? And that's one. Jason and Damian, do you want to elaborate?"

"I still vote for Bruce Wayne theory," Jason said with a sigh.

"OH MY GOD-"

"OW! BRUCE HE PUNCHED ME!"

"BOYS!"

There was muffled speaking and sounds of hitting.

"Damian?"

"I don't like any of the theories."

"Do you have your own then?"

"Not particularly, but I suppose if I would have to give one. . . I believe the Batman is just some random guy with some behavioral and mental issues, and decided that the best way to combat crime, instead of becoming a police detective, was to put on spandex and Kevlar and a bat mask and theme everything after bats."

Dick chuckled. "Well there you have it folks. We finally tackled the Batman conspiracy, now could you please stop flooding our social medias with requests for it? Take that as you may, but obviously, as Bruce said, even if some of our members may know the identity of the Batman, we will not disclose that information, because it's not ours to give away. It's his choice and his privacy, so do not ask us who he is. We will not tell. Guys, anything to say?"

"I'm tired-"

"Tim you're always tired!"

"Ookaaaay! Anyway, next month is Bruce's turn, since we switched, and as always, we'll be putting up a poll on Twitter to see what case you want us to discuss! Until next time, this is the Wayne family signing off!"

"Goodbye."

"Peace out."

"Farwell."

"Death is inevitable."

"Time is a social construct."

"Children- Thank you for listening!"

"Please free me from this hell-"

"And in all the other ways to say it, Goodbye, and Goodnight!"

And you, dear listener, were left to listen to dead silence for a few minutes until you reached your destination, thoroughly confused, and mildly unsettled.

#batfam #batfam headcanons #headcanons #drabbles #drabble #writing #bruce wayne #batman #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #cassandra cain #damian wayne #barbara gordon #alfred Pennyworth #conspiracy theories #queerbutstillhere #queerbutstillhere writes

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theotherackerman · 3 years

Text

My Mind Turns Your Life Into Folklore

NOTES:

Sunday, January 24th

chapter twenty-seven: save me from this january gloom

Mikasa truly hated driving.

She kept her eyes on the road and blared her music.

Zeke’s house was truly in the middle of nowhere.

The mailbox read JAEGER as the GPS told Mikasa she was in the right place.

Zeke’s van and car were both sitting in the driveway. Zeke himself was standing out there smoking.

Mikasa pulled up to the three story home and parked in the driveway. She got out, grabbing her backpack.

“Eren’s inside. The girl in there is Pieck. Don’t mind her, she just broke up with her boyfriend,” Zeke said as he pointed to the door.

Mikasa made her way to the front door along with Zeke and stepped inside. There was a brunette girl that Mikasa guessed was Pieck.

“You’re Mikasa from all the pictures. I’ve heard a lot about you. You were pretty in the photos but you’re even prettier in person. I’m Pieck,” she said as she extended her hand.

Mikasa shook it.

“Hi,” Mikasa replied awkwardly.

After a moment, Pieck let go of Mikasa’s hand.

“Pieck, don’t be weird to Eren's girlfriend,” Zeke sighed as closed the door behind him.

“Do you see her bone structure? Not to mention the photos I’ve seen! She’d be perfect!”

Zeke sighed again, “you’re making it worse. She doesn’t want to be one of your models. She’s also friends with your ex boyfriend.”

“He’s not my ex boyfriend.”

“Okay, I believe that,” Zeke scoffed.

Mikasa felt like she was missing something.

“Upstairs, second floor, third door on the left,” Zeke informed her.

Mikasa walked upstairs and found the room Zeke was talking about. Should she knock?

“How did you win again?!” She heard Eren say through the wall. She took that as a sign that it was safe for her to open the door.

Eren was sitting on his bed, playing video games. A headset was on his head, plugged into the controller he was using.

“Oh hey, Mikasa,” He said, giving her a little wave.

Mikasa dropped her backpack, took off her coat, and kicked off her shoes before sitting on the bed next to Eren.

“Jean and Connie say hi.”

“Hi, Connie and Jean,” Mikasa said as she leaned over close to the mic.

“Yeah, I’m getting off, bye.” Eren said before exiting out the game and powering the console off.

He got up and put his headset on his desk. Then he sat back back down next to Mikasa.

“How are you?” She asked.

“I’m okay. Had therapy this morning so that was fun.”

“Oh.”

“We talked about my dad. I kind of had to...with everything.”

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“I know but you’re you. I mean we’re not keeping secrets anymore, right? Besides, you saw first hand the down spiral I went through when he died.”

“I’m sor-”

“Please, don’t. I know everyone says they’re sorry he’s gone but as fucked up as it sounds, I’m not,” he leaned back in his bed, his head hit the pillow. “I wonder if mom hadn’t died if he would have smashed my guitar eventually too.”

“Eren-”

This time he cut her off by grabbing her waist and pulling her close to him. He made sure her head hit the pillow next to him.

“Eren!” she squeaked in surprise.

He laughed, “I’m okay, really. You can ask Zeke. I just don’t…..want to end up like him. I know, I know. That was my whole problem before but now I’m just telling you. I’m not…..”

“Running away like a coward?”

“Yeah, that. He’s ruined enough for me, about me. Zeke grew up in spite of him. I failed at that part.”

“Did he ever apologize to you about hiding the fact you had a brother?”

“I never heard him apologize to anyone, not even my mom. Whatever was wrong with him….he didn’t want help for it. I think he was drowning in it, like I was. I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want to smash a guitar or leave my family.”

“Kind of already did the last part.”

“Yeah, I know. My therapist is pretty proud of me for telling you everything.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, said I was pretty lucky to get this chance. Most people don’t and to not fuck it up again.”

“I doubt that they said that.”

“Oh, you have not met Dr. Magath.”

Mikasa and Eren laughed.

“You are laughing and the door is open. I am taking that as my cue that you are not having sex and I can come in,” Zeke said as he entered the room from the hallway.

Mikasa and Eren both immediately went red. They both remembered when Zeke had walked into Grisha’s house on New Year's Day.

“Anyway, Pieck wants lunch so get your coat. We are meeting up with the Galliards and Reiner,” Zeke informed them.

"What are you? My mother?" Eren asked.

"Someone has to be."

"Where are we going?"

"Fuck if I know."

"Eren, if you don't hurry up, I'm going to become a cannibal," Pieck said as she entered the room. "Are you joining us, Mikasa?

"She goes where I go," Eren replied as he swung his legs to the floor.

"Another girl! Finally! And one who isn't trying to date Zeke for his money!"

"Why do you constantly have to bring her up?" Zeke groaned.

"Because your reaction amuses me,” Pieck said as she booped him on the nose.

Zeke flicked her in the ear causing her to jump.

Pieck immediately grabbed his glasses and ran away.

"Pieck! I cannot see without those. I will fall down the stairs and die."

"Then die," her voice called from the hallway.

Zeke sighed as he left Eren's room.

A thud was heard right outside of Eren's room.

"Ow! You knocked me down!"

"Maybe because I cannot fucking see without my glasses."

"You're buying me lunch."

"When do I not buy you lunch?"

"Are they….." Mikasa asked after they heard the footsteps retreat.

"No, not to my knowledge. Pieck was hooking up with Jean until recently. They broke up the other day. She’s not taking it too well.”

“Jean? Really?”

“Yeah. I’ve been talking to him about the whole thing. He gave her a chance to be more and she didn’t take it. He seems pretty heartbroken by it. I kind of feel bad for the guy.”

“Why?”

“Because he finally moved on from you for real this time and she broke his heart while breaking her own.”

“Well, that’s depressing,” Mikasa muttered.

-----------------------

The restaurant was mostly empty.

"Why do you assholes have to come here? Not you, Pieck and Mikasa," Niccolo asked as he leaned on the podium.

"Because they just love you so much," Pieck replied.

"Zeke better tip well. How many?" Niccolo began to gather menus.

"Let's see, Marcel, Porco, us, Reiner, and Gabi."

"So seven, you want a table or a booth? And how is Gabi holding up?"

"Either. I'm not sure about Gabi. I imagine as well as someone who’s mom is dying can. I can’t believe it after losing her dad…”

"I'll give you a table."

Niccolo led them to a table in the back.

Mikasa sat down on one side of Eren while Zeke sat on the other.

Pieck sat down on the other side of Zeke.

"Niccolo! Come wait on us!" A voice called from the front of the restaurant.

"Porco…….I'll wait on you alright. We're over here!" Niccolo yelled back.

A tall blonde man and a brunette man made their way over to the table.

"Porco, Marcel, this is the infamous Mikasa. Isn't she super pretty?" Pieck asked.

"There you go making it weird again, Pieck." Zeke sighed.

"Hey Mikasa, I'm Marcel,” the brunette man said as he sat down.

"And I'm Porco. Good to meet the girl behind the songs. Don't let Pieck scare you off. She's just...someone who appreciates beauty,” the blonde said as he sat down next to Pieck.

"And she's a photographer. She tries to recruit people to model for her,” Marcel replied.

“Zeke! Pieck! You here yet?!”

That was a voice Mikasa recognized.

“Back here, Reiner!” Zeke yelled.

Reiner made his way to the table. He looked a mess. There was a young girl getting a piggyback ride from him.

"You look like shit," Porco replied.

"He does look like shit," the young girl replied.

"Don't say shit, Gabi," Reiner scolded.

Gabi and Mikasa's eyes met. Then Mikasa realized she was the girl from the video of the kids dancing.

"You're the pretty keyboard lady!" She exclaimed. "Reiner, put me down! I want to talk to her! Can I sit next to you?"

Mikasa remembered what Niccolo had said. This girl had one parent while another was dying. She’d be an orphan soon, just like Mikasa was.

"Sure," she replied.

Gabi squealed before she took the seat next to Mikasa.

"Hey, how come you don't freak out when you see us?" Niccolo asked.

Gabi ignored Niccolo and launched right into talking to Mikasa. "Hi. I'm Gabi Braun. I'm starting a band with my friends. My friend Falco can play the piano like you and I'm going to be the lead singer. Mr. Zeke is even giving me guitar lessons! Then my friend Udo is learning the drums and Zofia is going to play bass and we're going to be just like you!"

"Take a breath in there sometime, Gabi," Reiner scoffed as he sat down on the other side of Gabi

"And you're really pretty! All of you are! Just like me!" Gabi smiled at Mikasa.

Mikasa's face turned red. She wasn't used to this type of attention. "Thank you," she said.

"You all want drinks or am I just supposed to stand here all afternoon?" Niccolo said.

As the table ordered their drinks, Mikasa realized she hadn't even looked at the menu.

When it got to her, Mikasa felt very self conscious.

"I like the strawberry slushie lemonade,” Gabi informed her.

"Yeah, okay. I'll take that,” Mikasa told her.

Gabi beamed at the fact that Mikasa listened.

Eren smiled at Mikasa, “your first big fan!”

"Oh! I forgot they have those! Niccolo, can I change mine, please?” Pieck asked.

“Sure,” Niccolo said, “Eren? What do you want?”

“Blue raspberry slushie lemonade,” Eren replied.

“I’ll be back,” Niccolo said before he walked away.

Mikasa looked at the menu. She was trying to figure out what she was in the mood for. Gabi seemed to have calmed down with all her questions. Eren leaned over to Mikasa.

“Her dad died a few years ago. Her mom went into the hospital last week,” he whispered.

“How?”

“Dad was a soldier, died in an explosion. Her mom has cancer. Reiner’s mom will probably get custody of her.”

Mikasa looked over at the small girl to her side.

The story was all too familiar.

An explosion.

What had killed Levi’s squad and given him scars, mental and physical.

The rest of the table was happily chatting among themselves. Gabi, who may have seemed okay to some, seemed to be exhausted. The excitement of seeing Mikasa was wearing off.

“So who is going to write your songs then?” Mikasa asked.

Gabi lit up as she looked at the older girl. “Me, of course! Falco wrote a love song and I’m not singing that shit.”

“Gabi, don’t say shit,” Reiner scolded her again.

Niccolo returned with a tray of drinks. He passed them out to everyone.

“You seem to be in a shitty ass mood, Niccolo. What’s up with that?” Marcel asked.

“Don’t worry about it. You ready to order?” He asked.

“I am,” Pieck said.

The orders began and Niccolo stormed away from the table after he was done.

“What the fuck is up with that?” Porco asked as he sipped on his drink.

“Sasha and him had a fight. I think they broke up,” Pieck replied.

Mikasa remembered what Sasha had told her. She felt a little guilty being her in that moment. Then again, it was not like she had planned to see Niccolo.

After ordering, Mikasa pulled out her phone and began to text Sasha.

Mikasa Ackerman:

Hey sorry I’m at lunch and Niccolo is here. He’s waiting on us. Zeke and Pieck picked the place...I think.

Sasha Blouse:

Not a big deal.

Mikasa Ackerman:

I still feel bad.

Sasha Blouse:

Don’t.

Mikasa Ackerman:

Sasha Blouse:

You worry too much. Just don’t say anything about me. K?

Mikasa Ackerman:

Done.

Sasha Blouse:

Ily. Now go enjoy your lunch. Don’t text me back. :)

Mikasa put her phone back into her pocket.

“I’m just saying a love song is a bad idea. What does Falco even know about love? He’s only twelve! Besides, who could he be in love with?” Gabi argued.

Reiner looked over at Mikasa.

“Remind you of anyone?” he asked.

Eren had said the exact same thing about Mikasa.

“Be nice to Falco, Gabi. He cares about you a lot,” Reiner said.

“Yeah, he’s a good kid,” Eren said before he took a drink.

“I am nice to him! He comes over everyday! We walk home together. We take turns carrying one another’s books! I’m super nice to Falco!” Gabi protested.

“Maybe he is in love with someone but he isn’t ready to tell them yet. That’s what I did,” Mikasa reassured Gabi.

“I just hope it’s not Zofia because that would be….I dunno what it would be but I wouldn’t like. I don’t want him to be in love with somebody.”

“She’s just as clueless as my brother,” Zeke muttered.

“Still not as clueless as Pieck with…..” Porco said.

Pieck stomped on Porco’s foot as hard as she possibly could.

“What the fuck, Pieck?” Porco said to her.

“We’re not talking about him!” Pieck yelled.

“Why are you so loud?” Niccolo asked as he returned with the food.

------------

Once Zeke paid for lunch and they were on their way out, Reiner stopped Mikasa.

“Thanks for listening to Gabi. I know she’ll talk your ear off but this is the first time I’ve seen her smile since her mom went into the hospital She really loves your band,” Reiner confessed. “She’s a good kid. Reminds me a lot of….”

“Me?” Eren said as he walked up to them and wrapped his arm around Mikasa's shoulders.

“She’s exactly like you. Clueless as ever,” Reiner scoffed.

“Don’t let her fuck it up with Falco then.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Jaeger. She’s not making your mistakes.”

Gabi ran up to them.

“Do you think you can give me a shoutout on your next livestream?” She asked.

“Yeah, we can,” Mikasa smiled.

“Take that, Falco!” she yelled as she pumped her hand into the air.

--------------

The rest of the day was mostly keeping Eren busy.

Mikasa tried to beat him at video games again.

Once again, she lost to him.

The Restorationists had practice once Niccolo was off work. Mikasa respected their privacy, working on her own lyrics. She had a good idea for a song, though she wasn’t sure how exactly she wanted to compose the music. She hoped Historia would like it.

The music from the Restorationists filled the house.

Niccolo was still clearly upset. He would get angry when he’d mess up, yelling every time the band had to restart.

Then again, Mikasa hadn’t been around him all that much. So maybe this was natural.

“Mikasa! You want pizza? I am not cooking!” Zeke yelled when they were taking a break.

“I’m okay with that!” She yelled back.

“Okay! I will order it!”

Practice resumed.

Listening to the music echo through the house, Mikasa remember that she was suppose to ask them if they wanted to collaborate. She and Eren had done that many times in high school. This would be different. Her and Historia had already written the music and lyrics with the collaboration in mind.

“Bye, Mikasa! I’m going to work at the club!” Niccolo called after practice ended.

“Bye!” she yelled.

Eren walked into the room after a moment. He collapsed on his bed.

“Bad?” she asked him.

“Eh, not really. I mean, everyone has an off day,” he replied.

“What do you think about a collaboration? I mean I saw someone posted it on Instagram with the video of the kids but I didn’t know if your band actually wanted to.”

“Niccolo is my only worry but he was the one to suggest it on Instagram. I think it’s a good idea. We’ll just have to ask Zeke and Pieck. Let’s go bother them,” Eren said before getting out of bed.

Mikasa followed his lead and then followed him downstairs.

“Collaboration with No Name?” Eren asked as he walked into the living room.

“Yes! More girls!” Pieck exclaimed.

“It would be beneficial for both bands,” Zeke said.

“Well, I guess that means it's happening. We already wrote a song with your band in mind,” Mikasa remarked.

There was a knock on the door.

“That would be the pizza,” Zeke said as he made his way to the door.

------------------

Pieck left at dinner, leaving just Zeke, Eren, and Mikasa.

“You should show her the third floor,” Zeke said as he pulled his coat on.

“Oh yeah! I forgot about that!” Eren exclaimed as he stood up from the kitchen table.

“What’s on the third floor?” Mikasa asked as she stood up.

“Come on, I’ll show you,” Eren said before taking her hand and dragging her up the stairs.

They passed Eren’s bedroom as they went towards the next set of stairs.

The third floor had several rooms that they passed as they walked up to two large doors. Eren pulled them open, revealing a large ornate room. There was a grand piano in the middle of the room. One side was nothing but bookshelves. The pictures that once lined the halls of Grisha’s house lined one wall along with pictures of Zeke and his friends.

“That’s Dina, Zeke’s mom,” Eren said, pointing to a photo of Grisha, Zeke, and Dina. “How my dad ended up with all these pretty women is a mystery to me.”

“Zeke looks like a blonde you,” Mikasa teased.

“Don’t remind me. There’s my grandparents, my aunt.”

“What happened to her?”

“She died when my dad was a kid. He never really spoke about her. Neither did our grandparents according to Zeke. There was some sort of accident and I guess my dad blames himself for it. That’s all we know,” Eren replied before he pulled her towards the piano.

Mikasa sat down on the bench and Eren sat down next to her.

“You can play it. Zeke gets it tuned regularly. He and Pieck can play. Go on,” Eren encouraged her.

Mikasa reached and pressed one of the keys.

It was such a familiar, comforting sound.

Music was an escape for both Eren and Mikasa. A way to speak that others could understand. A way to get all the horrible feelings out of their heads.

Eren watched her play. How her fingers skillfully navigated for each note. He didn’t recognize the song, that wasn’t surprising to him. Mikasa wrote new songs almost every other day. He wasn’t much better.

It was very comforting that while everything else had changed, Mikasa still wrote music.

Eren smiled, allowing the music to take over.

Zeke had snuck up to see how Eren and Mikasa were, just checking up on them. He smiled at the sight he saw in front of him.

For some reason, Zeke felt his mom in that moment. He could see her playing that piano. Though her own family had kicked her out, Zeke’s grandparents had not, even after Grisha left her. She was still their daughter in law.

The piano had been in Zeke’s childhood home before it had been moved here during the renovations.

Zeke snapped a picture of the young couple and sent it to Levi.

Levi sent back a simple message.

CAPTAIN LEVI ACKERMAN:

Told you so.

Yeah. Levi had.

----------------------

Niccolo got the word that night that The Restorationists were actually collaborating with No Name.

He had been the one to suggest that.

He couldn’t back out of it now.

Not to mention how happy everyone else in the band seemed to be about it .

Maybe that’s why he got drunk that night.

Maybe it was because he had been here before.

A girl he liked being so close to her ex, it was all too familiar.

There was a rational part of him that said Sasha wasn’t his ex girlfriend.

Then there was the part of him that had already seen this play out before.

Girls seemed to always end up back with their exes.

He knew Connie was a good guy or at least he had seemed that way.

He knew Connie had a girlfriend.

Niccolo took a drink of whiskey directly from the bottle.

He felt like an idiot.

He knew he shouldn’t have gotten mad about Connie.

It was stupid.

But there was no taking it back now.

He had gone to the bar earlier in the night with plans to take someone home but he couldn’t bring himself to.

How had they gone from not being able to talk to one another to becoming more comfortable to this?

But it hurt him.

Maybe it was because he had hoped to be her first.

He was stupid and having double standards.

He got that.

But the fact that it was with someone she was still friends with?

Yeah, he wasn’t okay with that at all.

He took another drink before he put the cap back on before he sat it back down on the kitchen counter.

He climbed the stairs and went to bed at 6:00 am.

#mmtylif #my writing

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madeofitzits · 5 years

Text

In honor of the impending return of Brooklyn 99, here are 99 reasons that...

1. He was precocious enough to know, at 5 years old, that he wanted to change his name (x)

2. He has a bunch of nicknames: Sandy Amberg, Young Sandwich, etc. but the most endearing one is 'Droidy', his family's name for him (x)

3. He is still super close friends with people he's known since: Elementary School (Chelsea Peretti) (x)...

4. Junior High/High School (Kiv and Jorm) (x)

5. … Summer Camp (Irene Neuwirth) (x)

7. ...and Film School (Chester Tam) (x)

8. Before he met Joanna, he dated other famous ladies but - out of respect - he never discussed it/them (x)

9. He loves turtles and tortoises. When he was a kid, he had a pet turtle that he named 'Squirt' because the first time he held it, it peed on him. His Mom, Margie, accidentally killed Squirt when Andy was at Summer camp... (x)

10. … Maybe this is why, when shooting 'Popstar', Andy fell hard for Maximus (Conner 4 Real's turtle). He says they "had a good thing going" and that he wanted to adopt him. In the end, he decided against it because there are a bunch of coyotes in his neighborhood and he was worried the little guy wouldn't be safe. (Popstar: DVD Commentary)

11. Speaking of his Mom, despite being a super private person, he appeared on 'Finding your Roots' so that he could help her track down her birth family (x)

12. When he succeeded he cried (although we never got to see it on camera) (x)

13. That's because, like all good boys, he loves his Mama which is why - as part of the same episode - he said "My mom is basically the kindest person I know… and many people would corroborate that" (x)

14. Andy's Sisters, Hannie (Johanna) and Darrow, used to make him wear diapers and put his hair in pigtails until he was 5 years old. He says he didn't mind because he just liked that they were paying attention to him (x)

15. That's why he sees his identity in comedy as being 'America's kid brother'. When he was young, he would annoy his sisters until they laughed and he claims to have been replicating that approach to entertainment ever since

16. Although a bunch of his characters have 'Daddy Issues', Andy definitely doesn't. He's super close with his Papa (Joe) and has said "he's a good man" and "the best Dad in the world" (x)

17. Joe was Andy's youth soccer coach and in one scene in 'Hot Rod', Joe's favorite photograph can be seen in the background. It shows a very young Andy posing with a soccer ball, after "scoring the winning goal against Mersey" (x)

18. He's been a loyal Golden State Warriors fan since he was a little kid, living in Oakland (then Berkeley) and, in 2010, he correctly predicted that they would "win a Championship in my lifetime" (x)

19. The proceeds from his Umami Burger ('The Samburger') went to a deafness early detection program in Berkeley. This cause is close to his heart because Margie uses hearing aids and used to work in the special needs program, teaching deaf kids (x)

20. He, Kiv, and Jorm have made multiple donations to their old school district, including $250 000 to its theater program (x)

21. On the subject of The Lonely Island; Andy always goes out of his way to make sure that everyone knows how much he owes to his buddies. For instance, he told Marc Maron, during his WTF appearance, that "I get a lot of credit for what Kiv and Jorm have done" (x)

22. He makes this face when he knows he’s said something naughty…

(Gif credit: @andrewsambags)

23. During his 'Wild Horses' appearance, he said that he can't watch scary movies because they freak him out too much. He told 'Complex' that he's still scared of 'The Shining' (x)...

24. … Similarly, when he was at UC Santa Cruz he worked at the Del Mar movie theater and he had a hard time coping with screenings of 'Species 2' (x)

25. He fell in love with Joanna, the moment he met her, when she greeted him by addressing him as 'Steve the C**t' (x)

26. He listened to 'Ys', everyday for a year, before he and Joanna started dating (x)

27. He bought the original portrait that was used as the basis of the cover art for 'Ys' and gave it to Joanna as a Christmas present, so that she could hang it in her music room (x)

28. He loves birds and goes hiking and birding with Joanna (x)

29. Every new comment he makes about Joanna becomes an instant contender for 'most beautiful thing a person has ever said about their spouse' (x)

30. For example, he readily admits that Jake's iconic heart eyes are the result of him thinking about his amazing wife (x)

31. There are many stories about how incredibly romantic Andy and Joanna's wedding was and Jorm has said that it featured "the most magical vows I've ever heard" (x)

32. The Newsombergs now live in Charlie Chaplin's old house (x)

33. On the Emmys Red Carpet (2015), the year he hosted, they took a momentary break from posing for the world's press to whisper 'I love you' to each other (x)

34. At last year's Vanity Fair party, Andy carried Joanna's purse for her so she could grab a snack (x)

35. He was a semi-permanent fixture in the audience for her recent run of shows for the 'Strings/Keys Incident' tour, even officially confirming his status as the 'President of her Fan Club' (x)

36. He used his Golden Globes monologue to call out the government for framing and murdering the Black Panthers (x)

37. On the Carpet for the Guy's Choice Awards, he called the event "a ridiculous farce", adding that "men already have it so easy - it's insane that there's a show that celebrates them". That makes sense when you consider that he, Kiv and Jorm have made an entire career out of parodying toxic masculinity (x)

38. He once said that only "idiot-ass men" think that women aren't funny (x)

39. He’s been wearing glasses since 7th Grade and he has the most heartbreakingly cute habit of nudging them up his nose, (especially when he wears his Sol Moscot frames) (x)...

40. ... and of rubbing his eyes under them (x)

41. He barely ever wears glasses for roles but he also avoids contacts (because he doesn't like touching his eyeballs) which means he's almost always 'acting blind' (x)

42. He has worn his glasses in character a few times - as 'himself' ('Lady Dynamite'), as 'Paul' ('I Think You Should Leave') and during a very small number of SNL sketches (e.g. during his one appearance in a 'Gilly' with Kristen Wiig) (x)

43. He can't tolerate glare and when that makes him squint it's a sight that's too cute for words (x)

44. He owns about six outfits and has been rotating them for well over a decade (x)

45. He barely ever breaks during shooting/while performing, so when he does it's aggressively adorable. (x), (x)

46. He's a grown ass man who persuades people to come with him to the bathroom because if he goes by himself he'll get lonely (x)

47. He didn't announce he was leaving SNL, until after his last appearance, selflessly choosing not to detract from Kirsten Wiig's huge and emotional send-off (x)

48. He undertook a quest to smell like Lorne Michaels (x)

49. He's ageing like a fine wine (x)

50. To protect their daughter's privacy, Andy and Joanna never announced that they were expecting. They've never released their little girl's name or date of birth and most news outlets still report that they became parents in August 2017 (even though that's inaccurate) (x)

51. Although he's careful not to talk about his daughter often, sometimes he can't keep from gushing about her. For example, when asked about his first year of fatherhood he said: "It’s been the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Just like a beautiful, incredible dream. It has surpassed every expectation I ever had. It’s definitely been very blissful" (x)

52. After their daughter was born, Andy and Joanna spent the first 40 days at home with her (in a practice known as 'confinement'). He's described it as being "a really special time". (x)

53. Andy is famously mild-mannered but, when asked about what triggers his 'Dad claws', he admitted that if anyone attempted to touch his daughter, without permission, he'd "probably sock them hard in the face"…

54. ...Characteristically, he went on to add that he hopes that never happens, since he hasn't been in a fight since 6th Grade (x)

55. Cyndi Lauper was his first celebrity crush and he plays her record ('She's so unusual') for his daughter all the time. (x)

56. His is the very definition of a precious laugh (x)...

57. It's made even more wonderful by the way it makes his voice go high-pitched (x)

58. … and the way it causes his eyebrow to rise involuntarily

59. It's impossible not to smile at his impression of his Mom (x)

60. And laugh at his impression of John Mulaney (x)

61. He was so convinced he wouldn't win the Golden Globe for Best Actor in a Comedy or Musical, that he didn't prepare a speech. Instead, as he explained to David Letterman, he "just went… and started drinking". The resulting list of improvised 'thank yous' was perfect in every way (x)

62. As producers, Andy, Kiv and Jorm have given life to some amazing projects ('Alone Together', 'Brigsby Bear', 'I Think You Should Leave')...

63. … and gone out of their way to support women in comedy ('Party Over Here', 'PEN15') (x)

64. As well as being a comedy legend, he's a super-talented dramatic actor, who gave the performance of a lifetime in 'Celeste and Jesse Forever' but, after the movie wrapped, and it was time to do press for it, he was straight back to goofing around (x)

65. His lip bite should be illegal (x)

66. Even though he wears the same vanishingly small number of outfits, over and over, he has a vast collection of the most excellent socks (x)

67. He always gives 'editing notes' during his own interviews (x)

68. He has a super sweet and sincere way of thanking interviewers when they compliment him (x)

69. He adjusts his hoodie constantly (x)

70. The two most perfect Jake laughs in b99 are actually real Andy laughs 'https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=W38A_xuXaeg https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=sVm9nYrTWRQ

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71. Virtually everyone who has ever worked with Andy has talked about what a wonderful person he is. This explains why so many of them have been involved with more than one of his projects (x)

72. It's not only his colleagues who talk about what a delight he is (x), (x)

73. This lovestruck fool wore his own wife's merch when he went out to dinner (x)

74. No one else uses the word 'dinky' quite like Andy (x). The same goes for 'snacky' (see point 70)

75. He does this with his tongue (x)

76. He still likes to play soccer but his eyesight is so bad that he has to keep his glasses on for it

77. When he lets his gorgeous floofy hair grow a little it sits perfectly over the arms of his glasses (x)

78. He gifted the world with Jakey's little curl (x)

79. At the James Franco Roast, he couldn't bring himself to be mean to anyone except himself (and Jeff Ross, a little!) (x)

80. In fact, he's always been willing to laugh at himself (x) and he still is (x)

81. He changes b99 scripts to make them more feminist (x)

82. Despite their humble insistence that they just benefited from 'good timing', the reality is that Andy, Kiv and Jorm (along with Chris Parnell) revolutionized digital media, when 'Lazy Sunday' popularized YouTube, increasing its traffic by 85% overnight (x)

83. He once attended the Vanity Fair party because his Mom told him to (x)

84. He has an amazing way of subtly but firmly shutting down inappropriate questions, like when this interviewer suggested that Holt being gay was something that could have been played for laughs https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=idQsYQfkR5o

85. He auditioned for SNL at the same time as Bill Hader. Hader thought he'd blown it because Andy had a bunch of props and Bill had none. In the meantime, Andy thought he'd blown it when he saw Hader and realized 'this guy doesn't need any props' (x)

86. His bromance with Seth Meyers is one for the ages (x)

87. Every single second of this video is proof of why Andy, Kiv and Jorm deserve the world (x)

88. He once dragged Mulaney up on stage for SNL Goodnights, even though writers weren't allowed to join in (x)

89. He has a hilarious phobia of pooping anywhere except his own bathroom (x)

90. His beautiful, beautiful, face: His smile (radiant), his eyes (caramel - hella disarming), his ears (adorably asymmetrical), his nose (perfect), His chin (the dimple… *swoon*), his jaw (could cut glass), The 'Sambeard' (another amazing layer of pretty) (x)

91. His body: His butt (x), his thighs, (x) his soft lil tummy (The ‘Sambelly’) (x), his hands. (x), his arms (x), his hips…

(Gif credit: @amystiago /@badpostandy on Twitter)

92. All signs point to the fact that, like Jake, Andy uses his glasses case as a wallet (x)

93. Jake's "cool-cool-cool-cool-cool-cool" is an irl Andy-ism that the writers worked into b99 scripts. What's even better is that Joanna does it, too (x)

94. He has a really good arm and is low key competitive, which is super hot https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=e32K_nBDy3Q

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95. He's one half of the cutest Red Carpet pose of all time (x)

96. He barely ever seems to get mad but if angry Jake is anything to go by, maybe he should... (x)

97. He's a huge nerd, who geeks out over GOT, LOTR, 'Star Wars', 'Alien(s)' and anything relating to time travel (x), (x)

98. He has a gorgeous speaking voice, especially when he’s tired or a little sick. (Bonus points for any time he uses the word ‘correct’. See point 30) (x)

99. He’s still so committed to his b99 fans and fam, even after all this time and is as excited as the rest of us that...

#99 reasons to love #andy samberg #brooklyn nine nine #b99 #a masterpost for the best boy there is

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sophielovesbarnes · 4 years

Text

All or nothing, chapter three.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Winchester!reader

Warnings: Mention of death, fluff, drinking.

Author note: Took me a while to write this one, I had a horrible writer’s block, and yesterday I managed to break it.

I hope you enjoy the chapter, let me know if you want to be tagged.

Requests are open.

Gifs are not mine.

Masterlist

Chapter two

Chapter three.

Why the hell did you have to wait until the last minute to start cleaning? You mentally slap yourself and sigh before getting back to scrub the floor; you wanted to give Spencer a good image and for what you have learned so far, he is a neat person and likes very clean spaces, which is why you were in the middle of an intensive cleaning session.

You aren’t much of a messy person, but you are also in college, so there is unfolded laundry on the couch, empty food containers on the kitchen, dirty dishes in the sink, and shoes on the floor, and you have had a hell of a week, after meeting Spencer on Tuesday, you spent all night on the moon, then on Wednesday you had to spend all the afternoon doing homework, so now you had a lot of work to do, including packing to go back home after school on Friday.

“Come one Y/N, stop procrastinating and get to it.”

Three hours later the kitchen and the living room are spotless, your laundry is folded and stacked on your closet, there is nothing on the floor, your suitcases are ready and the lasagna is in the oven, and there is freshly baked garlic bread on the table.

You admire your work as you rub your wet hair with a towel, trying to absorb as much water possible so you can blow dry it, then you go back to your room so you can find something decent to wear in your closet, you end up choosing the blue summer dress Sam gave you for your birthday last year, you had been saving it for a special occasion and this was definitely one.

When you are ready you finish setting the table and at 6 o’clock on the dot your doorbell rings.

***

Spencer has changed a total of seven times in a lapse of fifteen minutes, he can’t remember the last time he felt this nervous.

He likes you, he really does, and it shouldn’t be possible to like someone this much in such a short span of time, but you are the most gorgeous girl he has ever been with, and you are also funny, and kind, and smart, and as hard as it seems you both share so many interests in common.

But at the same time you are like him you are also quite the opposite, you take him out and far away from his comfort zone, and it is both exciting and terrifying, but it makes his mind wander and worry, will he be enough for you? And if he is, if you manage to get into a relationship, how will you make it work? With him living 576 miles away from you, and you both having such different lifestyles.

He also has Maeve on mind, he couldn’t keep her safe, and he has seen the families and loved ones of his time getting in the crossfire, he saw it with Hotch, when Hayley got killed by Foyet, and he is terrified by the idea of something happening to you because of him.

He stops himself and tries to shake the shiver from his spine, he shouldn’t be worrying so much at this point, he brings himself back to the hotel room and stares at the mirror and finally decides what to wear, the blue sweater with the matching tie will do, he tries to tame his hair with his fingers and then he leaves his hotel room, he is lucky enough to have both Morgan and Rossi out so he won’t be asked to explain something he hasn’t finished understanding.

The address you gave him is quite close to the hotel he is staying in so he decides to walk, the city is nice and he can see why do you like it so much, sooner than he expected it he finds himself in front of the apartment complex that you indicated, he builds himself with courage and he rings the bell, the gate opens and he enters and calls the elevator on the fourth floor he gets down and knocks on your door.

When you open he is astonished, you look incredibly beautiful, you are wearing your hair down and curled, and the blue dress you are wearing hugs your body perfectly, and just like that he confirms one more time how much he likes you.

“Spencer! Hi, come on in.” He enters, closing the door behind him and you give him a smile.

“I-I got you these.” He gives you the bouquet of gerberas he bought in the way and he sees your eyes sparkle as you receive them.

“They are so pretty! Thank you.” You head to the sink, fill a vase with water and then you place the flowers on the kitchen bar. “Please take a seat, can I get you anything to drink?”

“Water is fine.” He answers admiring your house, it’s small and cozy and all the pictures on the walls make it feel like a home. “It’s a nice place.”

“Thank you, I owe it to Dean, like pretty much everything in my life.” The timer rings, giving you the cue to turn off the oven and take out the lasagna, you put on your gloves and take it, and then put it on the heat proof mat you had placed on the table. “I hope you are hungry.”

“Starving.” He replies with a soft smile.

You cut the lasagna and serve it on both of your plates, Spencer gives you a soft smile thanking you, you sit in front of him and raise your glass.

“To us.” He imitates your action and clinks his wine glass with yours. “Cheers.”

“Did you know that “Cheers” originated from the old French word chiere which meant “face” or “head.” By the 18th century, it meant “gladness,” and was used as a way of expressing encouragement.” He rambles. “And toasting is thought to come from sacrificial libations in which a sacred liquid was offered to the gods in exchange for a wish, or a prayer for health. It was Greek and Roman tradition to leave an offering to the gods, including alcoholic beverages, during celebrations and commonly after a death. In Greek mythology, the god of wine, Bacchus, was often toasted.”

“I did, and did you know that in Medieval times, glasses were clinked and people cheered loudly to ward off any demons or evil spirits? And that there are theories that say that it was done to avoid poisoning?” You reply, and he is fascinated to be able to talk with someone that is actually interested on this kind of facts and willing to talk about them with him.

You take a sip of your wine and smile at him, and he could swear his heart jumps every time you do it.

“Bon appetit.”

He takes the first bite and then looks at you with his eyes wide open.

“This is really good.”

“Thanks, it’s my mom’s recipe. She used to have a restaurant and people would make lines to try her food.”

“Are those your parents?” He asks pointing to the picture of your parent’s wedding, it was your favorite photograph of them, your mom looks beautiful in her white dress and she seems so happy and your dad is looking at her, and you can see the love in their eyes.

“Yeah.” You reply, nostalgia running through your veins.

“It’s a nice picture, do they live in Kansas as well?”

“No.” You take a deep breath and then continue. “They are gone.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, it has been a long time.” You sigh and try to keep your emotions on the line. “They died in a car crash when I was eleven.”

“That’s why I owe Dean so much, when the accident happened Adam was already in college, but I was still little, and my aunt Sabine tried to take me back to Minnesota, but Dean wouldn’t have it, he filled to be my legal guardian and he went to trial against my aunt and he won, then he sold his bachelor’s apartment and bought a house for the both of us and he became both my mom and my dad.”

“He sounds like a great brother.”

“He is, I’m lucky to have him, and Sam and Adam, they are quite amazing.” You take the picture from your first competition and show it to him. “These are my brothers, Dean is carrying me, Sam is on the left and Adam is on the right.”

“You look really happy.” He comments.

“Yeah, I was, it was probably one of the best days of my life.” You reply, filled with joy of reliving the memory, the moment when your team was announced champion, the proud looks on your brothers’ eyes, the screams of excitement coming from your teammates, and the intense feeling of joy running through your veins. “It was my first all star competition, man, you should've seen Dean, he bragged about it for months.”

“For how long have you been a cheerleader?”

“I started with ballet and gymnastics when I was 3 and I joined the squad at my elementary school as soon as I got in.”

“What do you like about it?”

“Well, I love dancing and I love sharing joy, cheerleading lets me do both.”

“Are you planning to do it professionally?” He asks.

“I don’t think so, to be honest I think I would rather develop my career as a psychologist, I would also like to have a dance academy, but I think that would be an extra.” You take a small pause to admire the soft color of his eyes and then ask. “What about you? Did you always know that you wanted to be an FBI agent?”

“Not really, I knew that I wanted to help people but I wasn’t sure how, then when I was 22 I decided to join the FBI.”

“Have you ever considered doing anything else?”

“A part of me would like to teach, but I don’t think I do good in front of many people.”

“Well being honest, I loved hearing you.” You see his cheeks blush and he looks away for a moment.

“Thank you.”

You finish eating while doing small talk, you ask him about his career, his team, you see how enthusiastic he gets when he talks about them, when he tells you how they became his family.

He also tells you about his mom, about how she slowly deteriorated and how much it scares him to get sick like her. When he is speaking you place your hand on top of his, he gives you a small smile and then changes the subject.

“Tell me about your brothers.”

“Well, Dean’s the oldest, and he has always taken care of all of us, he is the most loving person I know. He taught me how to ride a bike and helped me to do my homework every day until highschool.

He is a mechanic, he has his own workshop where he does restorations on vintage cars, he was also a soldier, he enlisted after 9/11, that’s where he met Castiel, he was an army doctor, he crushed on him but he was already married to Lisa, and she was expecting Ben, my nephew, then he came back home but he and Lisa didn’t work together as a couple anymore, they tried to stay together for Ben, but they weren’t happy, so they got divorced and stayed as friends, then like fifteen years later Dean got in a small car accident and the doctor that got his case was Castiel, they started dating very little after that, and they got married three years ago, this year they adopted a little boy, Leo, he is the love of their lives.”

While you are talking Spencer looks at you with attention, and your hand never leaves his.

“Sam’s the smart one, he studied law at Stanford and he is now a junior partner on one of the biggest firms on Kansas, he is married with Jess, they have two daughters, Marie and Elizabeth, and Adam studied Mechanical Engineering at KU, he works on the workshop with Dean, and he is expecting a baby with Jo, who is basically my sister, they used to hate each other they were always jumping at the other’s neck, so it was definitely a surprise.”

“Do you miss living in Kansas?”

“Yeah, I do, sometimes I get very lonely here, I have friends and all but, it’s not the same as having my family here, that’s why I love vacations so much, because I can go back home and see them.”

“Yeah, I get the feeling.”

Talking to him is easy, when you are with him you don’t feel the need to keep your guard up, you feel like you can trust him with anything, when you talk he listens with attention, he actually listens, not like other boys you have met, that only wait for you to stop talking so they can focus the conversation on them, and when he talks you are fascinated, he is insanely smart and well educated, you have the most interesting conversation you have had in your entire life , and time seems to fade away, when you notice it, it’s already past midnight.

He helps you to clean, after you finish you walk him to the door, you are standing under the threshold when you both start to speak at the same time, you chuckle softly and then let him start.

“Thank you for having me.”

“It was my pleasure.”

Then you stay in silence, and you allow yourself to get lost in his eyes, slowly you get closer to him, so close you can feel his soft breath over your mouth, he hesitates for a minute but then he places his hand on your waist and then you close the distance between your lips and his.

Kissing you has to be the most exhilarating feeling he has ever had, it is like his lips were meant to be in yours, you run your fingers through his hair and then he pulls you closer to him, making your chest rest on his, your lips move softly and in synchrony his his.

He wonders if you can feel his heart beating, because it seems like it may abandon his chest at any moment.

Every shadow of doubt fades away, at that very moment he makes the decision that he is not willing to let you slip away from him, he will fight to keep you next to him, he will do whatever it takes.

“Good night Doctor Reid.”

Tags: @that-aesthetic-wannabe

#spencer reid x winchester!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #reid x you #reid x reader #winchester!reader #winchester!sister #supernatural x you #supernatural x reader #supernatural

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captainscanadian · 5 years

Text

Better | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Epilogue 2)

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: You did good. No, you did better than good.

Word Count: 2505

Pairing: Doctor!Bucky x Doctor!Reader, Portia Barnes, Grant Barnes, Sarah Rogers

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Abuse, Mentions of Death

A/N: This is it. This is the end of an era. This is the end of me writing Better. I cannot believe I actually managed to finish a fic. Most importantly, I cannot believe so many of you have taken your time to read this and to love this story and Better!Bucky as much as I do. From the bottom of my heart, I would like to thank you all. I am forever grateful for every single one of you. This one’s dedicated to @dramadreamer14 because after the torture that I put her through, she needs this domestic, fluffy, “growing old together” kind of wrap-up for this fic. Pic’s not mine, credit to the owners!

20 years later...

New Hope, Pennsylvania was a quiet little town. No one ever knew that it had even existed. Even Bucky had only come to know of this small town until he had met you. Over the years, you had not questioned why your husband had been sending money orders to your hometown every single month. You knew the answer to that. But you also knew that a few years into your marriage, the payments had stopped. Bucky had not mentioned it to you, but you knew that they had stopped. You did not live under the biggest rock on earth for crying out loud.

When you had asked Bucky about it though, he did not try to hide it from you. He did not lie to your face in the name of wanting to protect you, even if he knew how much pain was behind the answer to your query. Your biological parents had tragically passed away after your childhood home had caught fire and burnt down. A kitchen fire, apparently. It had spread so quickly by the time one of the neighbors had found out and managed to call the fire department, that your parents could not be saved.

Bucky had believed that you had every right to grieve your parents, to feel completely free from them now that they were really gone for good. A fire accident in your childhood home, he had told you. Neither of them survived. As it turned out, your mother had left a will before her death, stating that whatever the remaining amount of money she had left in her bank account should go to the science teacher at your school. After all, she had signed a contract saying that she would cut all ties with you. Of course, she was not going to leave you that money. But it seemed as though, after all these years of never being able to be on the same page, your mother did understand you at some point. She knew that you owed your old teacher so much for that one night of shelter and your mother also owed her that much for ensuring that her only child had not frozen to death. And that was the end of that.

Portia Natalia Barnes never got to know her maternal grandparents, but she knew from a very young age that her mother had not been as lucky as she had been when it came to being the recipient of unconditional parental love. You and Bucky had made sure to let both of your children know that they were loved from the day they were born. You never took them or the responsibility that you had taken on as being their parents for granted. You were honest with them, allowing them to understand that their parents were not perfect. But they were human beings with their own flaws, who thrived to be better. You had given them the space and the openness to be honest with you too. If they ever felt like your parenting was unfair to them, they would tell you. You communicated with them to make sure that they understood the boundaries that you had set for them as their parents and they felt understood as well. You were much better parents that the ones you had.

As the years rolled on, Portia had left your nest to go off to Harvard. Having inherited her father photographic memory, she had been quite a smart kid. When it came to her going to college, she had managed to grab an acceptance to multiple Ivy League schools. Her father had taken it personally that she had chosen Harvard over Columbia, his own alma mater. But truth be told, Bucky was simply not willing to see his little girl go off to live on her own. He had been a very protective father.

While your daughter was attending university in Boston, your son was freaking out over the football tryouts at his high school. While neither you nor your husband was athletically talented, it seemed as though Grant had taken a particular liking to playing sport. Now a senior in high school, he was well under way of getting a football scholarship. Both of your children were doing well for themselves and you could not be any prouder.

And as for you and your James, the two of you had resigned from the hospital when your children were starting school. The two of you had agreed that the unpredictable work schedule that came with working at the hospital was not ideal when you wanted to be raising two children. Bucky had admitted that he wanted to be more present in their lives. As much as he had been raised by a nanny, he was against the idea of you hiring one.

But the time had been right, for Bucky’s friend T’Challa, who had taken over your in-laws’ private practice from them had sold it back to the two of you before moving back to Africa. You and James began working together as partners, dictating your own work hours to accommodate your school runs and running your own clinic at the shelter. The two of you had really built yourselves a life together, just for the two of you.

Of course, this did not mean that you did not get to see your friends at all. Every weekend and the holidays were spent in each other’s company, no matter how far away from each other your lives had taken you all. Even if you all had your own families now, you still made time for each other. In the end, you were all each other’s families and that was never going to change all that easily.

“Mooooom!” Your son whined as he made his way down the stairs, his feet stomping across the hardwood floor with every step he took until he reached the kitchen. For a seventeen year old, he was quite broad and tall. He sure had the built for a football player, towering over your height too. According to your mother-in-law, he certainly took on after his father. But you would not say that he only took on Bucky’s appearance; he had his father’s heart too. “Mom, Portia says she needs the car tomorrow but I’ve got practice. Can you please remind her that she doesn’t live here anymore and the car’s mine now?”

You let out a sigh as you finished chopping up the vegetables, discarding the scraps in the compost bin before walking over to the stove to check on the pasta.

“I told you. I’ll even drop you off and pick you up, you punk.” Your daughter’s voice echoed through the hallway as she followed after her brother. “Mom, I’m just meeting up with my friend for coffee. We have our project due after spring break and we were going to be working on it together.”

“It’s spring break. Why aren’t you taking a road trip to Canada and getting pissed drunk or something like a proper college kid?”

“It’s spring break. Why do you have practice, huh?” She asked her brother.

You turned off the stove before turning around to face your children, letting out a sigh of disbelief. “Have you two seriously forgotten what day it is?” You asked them as you crossed your arms against your chest.

They both looked at each other for a moment before their eyes grew wide in realization of what day it was.

“Oh shit-” Portia quickly covered her mouth. “Sorry, mom! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to forget, I... I’ll text my friend right now and cancel our study session. I promise, I’m not leaving the house for the whole day.”

“Sorry, mom...” Grant frowned as he pulled out his phone from his pocket. “I’m calling the coach and telling him that I can’t make it. Family comes first.”

“As much as I’m a little disappointed that the two of you forgot your father’s birthday, I’m glad that you two are at least fighting about study sessions and football practice.” You admitted, chuckling softly. “Help me finish up with dinner and set the table? Dad will be home soon and it’s been a while since we’ve had a family meal with all four of us.”

“Of course.” Your daughter smiled as she walked around the kitchen counter to wash her hands. “I’ll roast the vegetables.”

“I’ll drain the pasta.”

“And I’ll finish up the sauce!” You announced and the three of you worked together to finish cooking before your husband got home.

Dr. James Barnes was a lucky man. At sixty years of age, he was happily married to his wife of twenty-two years. With a successful private practice and a part-time position teaching anatomy at Columbia Medical School, he had learned to keep himself busy with work while still managing to have a family of his own. He had two wonderful children who loved him dearly and were well onto becoming responsible adults. He was not worried about their future; they were good kids.

His goddaughter on the other hand though, he was worried about her for sure. “Sarah, I’m telling you. Being my little niece does not mean that you’re going to get special treatment in my class.” With an eye roll, Bucky made his way upstairs right after he entered his home.

“But that doesn’t give you any reason to be twice as hard on me, Dr. Barnes.” She told him sternly as she watched him ascend up the stairs. She walked into the dining room, her expression a little softer as she greeted you. “Hey, Aunty Y/N.”

“Hey, sweetheart... will you be joining us for dinner this evening?” You asked your beloved niece as you finished setting the table. Just as you had been a regular visitor of the Rogers-Carter household when you had first started working with Steve and Peggy, Sarah was a frequent dinner guest as your house as well.

“Do I have a choice? I have an anatomy quiz after the break that I’m supposed to study for and my professor’s a jerk. Uncle Bucky... offered to help me study tonight.” Sarah Rogers, in the way she carried herself and spoke her mind, was her mother’s daughter. But when it came to her constant banter with Bucky, she was all Steve. “I’m telling you. If I end up dropping out of med school, it was your husband’s fault.”

“This... is exactly why I went off to Harvard.” Portia pointed out as she walked over to Sarah and pulled her into a hug. “Cheer up, Rogers.”

“Wait, I thought Uncle Bucky is your professor...”

The girls turned around to give Grant a look of disbelief.

You gave him a pat on the back. “Let’s finish setting the table, baby.”

Your husband made his way downstairs after freshening up, having changed into a pair of sweatpants and a Henley. Even after years, he still liked to separate his personal and professional lives with how he dressed. When the two of you were home, you rarely spoke of work. Your children had always been your priorities.

James’ hair had a hint of grey now. But that only made him look much more attractive to you. The years had been kind to the two of you, despite a few wrinkles here and there. Your physical appearance did not matter much to you though, for your hearts were still the same? You loved each other just as much as you did that night in your hospital room and that was never going to change.

After a long-awaited family meal, the children got busy with doing the dishes while you found yourself heading up to your room for a quick shower. By the time you had changed into a pair of pyjamas and made your way downstairs, you found Sarah and Portia huddled on the living room floor with their textbooks laying wide open around them. Grant had followed their example and grabbed himself a book to read while he laid on the couch – The Merchant of Venice, which was apparently now being taught in his high school English class. He really was his father’s son.

Bucky sat in his study, reading through his emails. As you knocked on the door and poked your head through, he looked up at you with a smile. “I wasn’t expecting any visitors at this time, doll. But I’ll take it.”

You walked into the room, making sure to close the door around you. “So, this is where you spend all of your free time after... a hard day’s work and a good family meal.” You told him with a wink.

He chuckled softly as he stood up from his seat. “Well, I do think that there’s a lot more value to my time if it’s spent in the presence of my wife.” There was a teasing tone in his voice and you knew that he had caught on.

“Hm... flattery will get you everywhere, Dr. Barnes.” You giggled as you walked up to him, leaving up to quickly peck his lips. You were cautious, for you did not want the children to see you like this. “A wise man once told me that I was capable of being so much better than what life had to offer me. Happy birthday to him, I guess.”

“I think there’s still a few hours until midnight.” He said, his eyes darting to the wall clock behind you.

You reached into the pockets of your robe and pulled out an envelope. “I just thought I might give you your present a little earlier...”

“What’s this?” Bucky asked you as he took the envelope, his eyebrow raised at you as he stepped back to retrieve the letter opener from his desk. He carefully tore through the envelope before retrieving the tickets to your romantic vacation destination.

You watched as he looked down at the tickets. “A wise man also told me that if I really wanted to live like I’m in the Merchant of Venice, all I had to do was hop on a plane.”

He turned around to give you a cheeky grin. “A romantic getaway to Venice? Really, doll?”

“I think we both need one, don’t you think? Now that Portia’s out of the house and Grant will be moving out soon.” You shrugged. “We can just travel the world like free birds, just you and me.”

“I think I’d like that.” He agreed as he walked back to you and kissed you softly.

You giggled as you kissed him back, wrapping your arms tightly around him as you took in his scent. “We did good, James...” You admitted, laying your head against his shoulder and shutting you eyes for a moment. You wanted to savor this, for every single intimate the two of you shared was precious. You still saw it as a blessing, having a wonderful husband like him and beautiful children.

“No, I think we did better, Y/N.”

#aj writes #better #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes au #doctor!bucky #doctor au #marvel au #better!bucky

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lifeinahole27 · 4 years

Text

CS ff: “Walking the Tightrope” (Chapter 10/10) (au)

Summary: Killian’s daily routines are a matter of habit. When he wakes up late one morning, his routines all change for the better. Emma doesn’t care about routines, but she does care about Killian, no matter how reluctant she is to admit it to herself.

Rating: E (the content warnings matter this time!)

Content Warnings: Everything from the previous chapter applies as far as the Walsh business is concerned. Other than that, a very tame chapter.

A Special Thank You: My continued gratitude to my lovely friends, @captainstudmuffin and @phiralovesloki. And a heap of love to @captainswanbigbang for putting this together and helping me accomplish this.

A/N: So, this is the last main chapter. There is an epilogue which I will post on Sunday, and then this grand adventure will be wrapped up! Thanks for being with me on this ride and for any comments, reblogs, and likes. I’m thankful beyond words. <3

Find it on Ao3 & FFN!

-x-

Chapter 10: Snowshine

Walsh still looks exactly the same as the last time she was here. Emma tries her best to keep her stomach calm when all she wants to do is throw up on his face, projecting an outward cool that she doesn’t feel as he enters the room and looks up at her.

“What the - Emma? What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

“Taking back what’s rightfully mine,” Emma says, gesturing to the box of pictures sitting on the bed beside her.

“Oh no, sweetheart. I would hardly call all of those yours.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart, asshole.”

Through all of this, James has been watching a progress bar load on the computer screen. With a noise of victory, he looks back to her.

“There you go, Emma. All done.”

“You brought David with you? Mr. Wouldn’t-hurt-a-fly?”

“Oh, buddy, believe me. You’re gonna wish I was David by the end of this. Good job hosting a whole website with a bunch of non-consensual photos on it. But shame on you for making it so easy to break into.”

“You have another brother?”

“Didn’t I ever tell you that David was an identical twin?”

At the little jingle that plays from the desk, he tries to push James out of the way. “What did you do to my computer?”

“Gave it a little tune up,” James tells him, crossing his arms with pride as a little unicorn marches into the center of the screen.

All three of them watch with rapt attention as the unicorn stands and waves, before squatting.

“Oh my god,” Emma says, bursting out in laughter as the unicorn defecates in the shape of an artfully written “fuck you” in rainbow colors.

After a couple seconds, the whole thing emits a screeching noise and shuts off with a loud pop.

“All your buddies that subscribed to your email list got something pretty similar. I mean, I don’t know if they’ll all open it but with the heading ‘Check out the brand new section!’ I’m willing to bet a lot of dudes are about to lose their computers.”

Walsh finally makes it around James, desperately trying to turn on his computer but nothing happens when he hits the button. “All of my business files were on there.”

“You kept all your shit on your personal computer? Wow. You’re even dumber than I thought.” James turns towards Emma on the tail of that thought. “You ready?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Emma responds, picking up the box of photographs and handing it over to James. They manage to make it out of the bedroom before Walsh must come to his senses, and he’s after them immediately.

His hand closes around Emma’s arm, and she spins around. On instinct, Emma swings as she breaks the hold. And while James misses taking a snapshot of that hit, he doesn’t miss the one where Emma knees him in the nuts hard enough to bring him to his knees.

“I have the perfect new image for the welcome screen on his trash web page,” James says as Emma backs away. He holds the phone out for her to see and she just barely stops herself from cracking up. “Here, take this. I’ll be right behind you.” He hands over the box, gently ushering her towards the door.

She doesn’t go far, leaving the door cracked just enough to hear what James has to say to Walsh.

“Here’s the deal, you Wizard of Oz-looking monkey piece of shit. All of the accounts for that website are completely wiped out. All that money you made off of people like my sister? That money is so far offshore that you’ll never be able to trace it ever again. Got it?”

“I’ll call the cops,” Walsh says weakly.

“You won’t. You have no evidence. And if you try to do that, or ever try to do this again, I will screw up your whole life. We’re in a digital age now, Walsh Whitney Covington. I have everything of yours now. Personal records, social media, bank accounts, the password to your pretentious little LinkedIn page that lists you as a connoisseur of wood, which… come on, man.”

“That’s all illegal,” he whines back, and Emma is mostly just enjoying the snivelling tone in his voice.

“Yeah? And? I’m sure Emma signed a consent form for those pictures you had posted of her, right? You had her sign away her financial freedoms for the profits on it, too? Don’t ever fuck with our family ever again or you’ll regret it.”

After a couple more minutes of silence, James exits the apartment and gives her a bright smile.

“Now, that was a fun afternoon with my brother. See? We should bond like this more often,” Emma says as they make their way out of the building and back down to where he parked his car.

“Yeah yeah, don’t get used to it. Jack would kill me if she found out this is how I spent my day.”

“You’re still with Jack?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I did marry her, after all. She wanted to wait until she made partner to have a baby and so I switched gears and became a stay-at-home dad after she went back from maternity leave. It helps to have a super lawyer as your wife.”

“None of the words that just came out of your mouth are what I was expecting when I called you about all this.”

“Well, it’s not like I send out Christmas cards with updates on the family,” James says, a little resignation in his voice.

“Did you really take all the profits from the website?”

“And refunded the money you spent on that settee you bought there back before you started dating.”

Just as he says it, Emma’s phone dings with a notification. There’s a message from her bank saying there’s been a deposit into her account. Looking at the numbers, it’s way more than what she paid for the moderately priced item, but James shrugs.

“Maybe I got the numbers backwards in my head. Added an extra digit. Whatever. So you mentioned earlier that you have a boyfriend? You haven’t changed your status on Facebook.”

“You follow my social media?”

“Just because I don’t let any of you know about what’s going on in my life doesn’t mean I don’t check up on you.”

“Well, I’m supposed to be at a Christmas party for his company down in New York but someone insisted we do this today.”

He rolls his eyes as he opens his door and climbs into the driver’s seat. No sooner is she seat-belting in when another notification chimes on her phone.

“Did you seriously just buy me a plane ticket to New York City?”

“I’ll hand all of that over to David,” James says, indicating the box she placed in the backseat. “Besides, he and I are severely overdue for a brotherly chat.” Without another word, he starts a route for the airport.

“When was the last time you had one of those? When you were fifteen?”

“Something like that. Hey, text him and let him know what’s going on. I should be back there in about an hour but I don’t want him to worry.”

She shakes her head, doing as he asked and sending a message to David.

As they pull up outside the airport, Emma turns to James. “So, what do I still owe you?”

“Nothing. I got the cash he had stashed in his desk, all the money from his subscription side of the website, and free childcare for the evening after Jack gets home from the office today.”

“Did you tell David that yet?”

“No, but I will. And you know he will - he’s David. Go on,” he tells her when they arrive a short time later. “Enjoy the party.”

“Okay then. And hey, thanks for all your help. I couldn’t imagine doing that with anyone else.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, Emma?”

Her door is open and she’s just about to climb out when he says her name.

“It was nice seeing you,” he admits.

She leans in quickly and hugs him, noting how familiar yet utterly foreign it feels. “Come visit us sometime,” she tells him as she pulls away. She stands there until his car pulls away and he’s out of view before she walks through the doors.

Somehow, James managed to get her the perfect flight so she had enough time to get through security, although she looks suspicious as hell going in with nothing but her purse, if you ask her. It’s still considered early when she lands in the city, but with nothing else with her, she has to get party-ready with nothing but the money in her bank account. Thanks to James, there’s a little bit extra to play with in there.

Emma feels like she should be in some cheesy movie montage as she struggles to find everything she’ll need to get ready. Hair and makeup come first, and she’s thankful the salon isn’t far from a decent looking clothing shop or else her charges in cab fares alone would’ve gotten out of hand.

The dress she finds is perfect - a sleek, black number that doesn’t fit too tight but that doesn’t hide her shape. It’s similar enough to the dress she was planning on wearing to this, the one she borrowed from Ruby as a first-date possibility but put aside in favor of the soft pink she wore instead. She admires the whole look in the mirror as the shop attendant helps her clip tags after Emma pays. She buys two pairs of shoes - a cute pair of cutout ankle boots and a pair of flats - in anticipation of the point in the party where she’ll want to feel her toes again.

It’s only once she’s fully satisfied with the total picture that she heads out, making sure everything she wore down here is tucked securely into the weekender bag the attendant helped her pick out.

This time, she opens the rideshare app for a little more comfort, and then it’s off to the Manhattan Penthouse to finally get to where she wants to be.

-x-

Tucking away the knowledge that Robin just gave him, Killian settles into his seat with only a lone glance at the empty chair beside him. He has Henry on his other side, and the rest of the Mills-Hood family in the remaining seats. They’ve not even begun when he receives a sharp, bony elbow to the side.

“Hey,” Henry whispers as he leans close. “Isn’t that Emma?”

He turns his head, glancing in the direction Henry is pointing, and his breath catches. Sure enough, Emma is standing there in a black dress that surely should be illegal to look so good in. Her hair and makeup are all done, and she’s scanning the room. It takes another elbow to his ribs for Killian to finally stand up, waving over his girlfriend and attempting to wipe the surprise off his face while he does.

“Hi! Sorry I’m late.”

“You’re just in time, actually. I’m so… don’t get me wrong, Swan, but I never expected you’d be able to make it.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to her cheek and taking a moment to soak up her closeness.

“Yeah, well, sometimes when you make a deal with the devil to take down satan, you get what you want faster than you expected,” she says, and while he doesn’t fully understand, he knows he’ll get the full story later.

He pulls out her chair for her, pushing it in as she sits. “I do believe we all know one another,” he says to the table at large. “I’d told them to cancel your meal, so excuse me while I get that turned around.”

“Emma! I’m so glad you’re here!” Henry who’d been sitting on his right, beams from ear to ear as he slides over to talk to her.

“Hi Henry. Everyone. Glad I could make it.”

Hearing her voice and the animated conversation that sparks up between her and Henry immediately calms his nerves for the evening, and he hastens to find one of the caterers so he can return to the table.

By the time their dinner is served, he’s noticed no less than four times Henry has pulled out his iPod to jot down something in his notes. He smiles as he watches it happen, watches the gears turn in the lad’s head and the magic take root. He manages to keep it in his pocket for the entirety of the meal, but he’s pretty sure that was due to a questioning look from Regina right as the salads were placed in front of them.

With the rest of the table occupied with their desserts, Killian takes a moment to lean over, keeping his voice low as he whispers in her ear. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” she says, a satisfied little smile on her face. There’s been a peace evident on her face since the moment she walked in, and he’s intrigued but enjoying it. She was never too tightly wound to begin with, apart from the times she got stuck in her own head. This, he assumes, is due to the business with her ex being all wrapped up.

After the dishes have been cleared, Killian rests in his seat for a bit. There’s still a lot more networking he’ll have to do, but for now he takes the time to relax as he and Robin discuss strategy for announcements. He’s in the middle of helping figure out the order when Emma’s hand creeps onto his thigh. His words falter for a moment, and he can see Emma’s smile get just a little wider.

When her hand travels a little higher, he reaches down, knowing full well that his ears and cheeks are both bright with flush, and takes a moment when Robin is asking Henry a question to fully turn to her.

“Have pity on me,” he whispers, pulling her hand to his lips to place a kiss on the back of it, and she laughs quietly, turning her palm to link her fingers with his.

“Just this one time,” she concedes, settling in with their hands clasped.

-x-

Walking into the venue, Emma is momentarily overwhelmed. She forgot that the Storybrooke office isn’t the whole team, and that a lot of the authors would be there, so there’s just a sea of people as far as she can see across the space. But then Killian stands up, her eyes finding his as he waves her over.

And it’s halfway between where she is and where he’s waiting that it hits her full in the gut: She is in love with Killian. She is so in love with that man that she can hardly stand it. He has never once looked at her differently or placed unrealistic expectations on her - he never set out to hurt her.

There, with the lights of the chandeliers glittering overhead, and the backdrop of the city getting dusted in snow, Emma realizes that she is looking at the man she wants to spend all of her time with if she can. Her heart squeezes, even as she smiles and accepts the kiss he places on her cheek as they settle in.

It’s the first time she’s ever been to a party like this, and she has to think it’s going pretty well. While Killian is occupied with his duties, Emma offers to watch Roland so Regina can go with Robin as he makes rounds to greet everyone. Emma follows him as he drags her from one end of the penthouse to the other, eager to show her anything and everything he can.

By the end of the night, her feet hurt and she’s all too happy to get her belongings from the coat check room so she can slip on the flats she bought. She’s leaning against the wall, innocently trying to pry her feet out of the booties when Killian comes up behind her, his hand warm through the material of her dress and his voice hot in her ear.

“Are you trying to kill me tonight?”

“I’m just trying to change my shoes. It’s not my fault your eyes automatically go to my ass when you approach me.”

He looks affronted when she turns to look at him, a smile hiding behind the expression.

“Besides,” she says, “I just can’t wait for you to get me out of this dress.”

“I’m ordering us a car right now.”

It’s amazing; she knows he prefers the quiet and solitude of their little town, but he performs so well in the city - like he was built to live here - and she loves that he chooses not to. They’re both on their best behavior in the car, but Killian purposely sat on her left so his hand can rest on her knee. Rather than spiking that part in her that’s always game for another round of sex, though, it reignites her thoughts from when she entered the party and she stares at him in the dark as the city lights pass them by.

When he notices, he turns to her with a peaceful look on his face, and they smile at each other. “What?” he asks, his fingers tightening once.

“Nothing,” she replies, taking the moment to rest her head on his shoulder for the rest of the journey. “Tonight was great.”

Back at the hotel, they at least manage to settle a bit before Killian follows through with her request, with both of them sighing as the dress slips from her shoulders and drops lightly to the floor. They take their time, slow and languid, savoring each moment with each other.

“I know I’ve said this plenty of times, but I am so happy you were able to make it,” Killian tells her as their skin is still cooling. She needs to go wash the makeup from her face but she’s not quite sure her legs will function in order to do so.

“Me too.” She stares at him, her eyes roaming his face and sinking into the wonder that has been the last three months of her life, thanks to this man.

“What is it?” he asks, his expression serious as he tries to figure out what she’s thinking.

“I… want to thank you for everything. You went into this without knowing and you still haven’t pushed me to talk about what happened or anything and so I just… wanted to say thanks.”

His smile falters, still there but just a touch disappointed that the words weren’t the ones he was expecting after she set it up to be something else, and she knows how it feels. Her thumb strokes along his cheek, pushing at his smile briefly as she leans in to kiss him.

Maybe next time, she thinks as she moves to the bathroom to clean up before climbing back into bed. Outside, the city keeps moving on as their world slows for sleep.

-x- December 21: Saturday

As usual, Killian is the one that wakes up first. He sets about ordering breakfast and jumps in the shower in the interim. Emma is awake and sitting up in bed when he comes back out, and he leans over the bed to kiss her good morning.

“David texted me that he’s on his way home. He has everything we took from Walsh and he’s going to drop it off at my place.”

“That’s certainly good news. Even better news is I have coffee and breakfast being delivered soon.”

She chuckles at that. “Perfect. I wish I had more clothes with me, but I suppose yesterday’s will be fine.”

“My luggage is yours, love. I always pack extra just in case, so help yourself.”

Which seemed like a good idea, until Emma walks out of the bathroom after her own shower in one of his button up shirts, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and her supple form filling out the garment better than he ever could.

They eat breakfast in bed, the curtains flung open wide to let in the weak, winter sunshine. As they graze their food, Emma books her ticket for their return to Storybrooke, crowing in victory when she scores a seat on Killian’s flight.

“I’ll text David and see if he can pick us up,” Emma tells him when they’re getting ready for their outside adventure, pulling her hat securely over her ears and wrapping her scarf around her neck.

They brave the cold to hit some of the popular winter activities in the city, taking in the Christmas markets and strolling Fifth Avenue. In the early evening, they meet up with Robin, Regina, and the two boys again to enjoy dinner together. With the pressure from the night before long gone, they talk instead of the upcoming holidays.

It’s clear that Henry is willing to keep the magic alive for Roland, asking the younger boy what he’s planning on asking for Christmas when they go to see Santa after the meal is over. When Killian catches Henry’s eye a short bit later, the lad smiles and gives him a thumbs up.

After dinner, they set out on their own again to see the Rockefeller tree in person. They stand there, watching the lights twinkle and the skaters on the rink until neither of them can feel their toes and their noses are bright red.

Sinking into their hotel bed that night, Killian makes sure to set his alarm, but Emma grabs for it before he can set it down.

“Just wanted to double check. Wouldn’t want to miss your alarm or anything,” she says, that smile hidden in the corner of her mouth.

“Cheeky woman,” he says quietly, making sure to kiss her hard and lovely before they each burrow under the covers.

There’s another message from David waiting for Emma when they wake up letting her know they’ll be there to pick them up. Thankfully, with no luggage, their disembarking process is much faster and they’re able to get out of the departure door right as David and Snow pull up.

While they go their separate ways when they get back to town, he and Emma have a standing appointment for later in the afternoon to take everything that was acquired from Walsh’s apartment to send it off properly, as she did with her uniform.

He sets to work on a mission, unpacking his bag and stripping off his dirty clothes to throw everything in his hamper. There’s still time before he meets with Emma, but since he’s been out of town since Friday, he’s behind on his weekend duties and he knows he’ll feel better if he takes the time to do it now rather than waiting. He throws his clothes in the wash, opting for warmer clothes for their task ahead. Instead of sitting around and waiting for the machine to be done, he takes the time instead to pack a picnic of sorts for the task ahead of them. Those items and a blanket all go into a tote bag he got from the last publishing conference he attended.

Shortly after his laundry is folded and put away, Emma breezes through the door with a large box in her arms.

“Ready?”

“Aye, just let me grab my keys.”

He locks the door behind them on their way out, and then they make their way to the beach closest to his flat. There’s a fire pit that was built ages ago, large stones surrounding it and a fresh pile of logs that Killian would place money on betting that David set it up for them.

As he sets to work lighting the fire, he hands Emma the tote to start unpacking their items. She hums happily as she finds the soup, and again when she opens the second thermos that has the hot chocolate. He’s just finishing with his task when he turns to see her pouring the drink into each mug he brought, and raises an eyebrow as she tips a generous amount of whiskey into each one.

She shrugs when she sees his look. “Believe me, I’m going to need it,” she says after a sip to taste-test.

They stay on the beach much longer than most people would in December, with fresh snow occasionally falling around them. But they make sure each individual picture makes it into the fire. As delicately as they can, they remove them from the box, and he hands a stack face-down to Emma for her to fold each picture so he can feed it into the fire.

She sets the thumb drive on the rocks around the pit, making sure to give it a solid stomp before throwing that in as an afterthought.

“I’m sure it’s terrible for the environment but I need that thing wiped from existence.”

When each item has met its demise, including the box it was all packed away in, Emma puts out the fire using every precaution he’s sure David taught her.

Back in the comforting warmth of his place, Killian pulls out every blanket he owns and waits for Emma to come out of his bedroom from getting changed into pajamas. He piles them on top of her, going to change his own clothes before joining her on the couch. He holds her while she processes the whole thing - some anger and tears, some relief, until she falls asleep on Killian’s shoulder and he has to shift around until they can both stretch out.

He doesn’t fall asleep until long after she does, whispering a quiet “I love you” against her hair before he finally falls asleep, as well.

-x- December 23: Monday

They’re still on the couch when Emma wakes up, if only just barely. She’s facing Killian, her back pressed against the couch, with Killian’s arm looped over her waist. She’s just opening her eyes when she hears his gasp and then he’s teetering off the edge. Now wide awake, she peers down to see Killian wincing on the floor.

“Are you okay?”

“Just peachy, love,” he grumbles, rubbing his head where it smacked on the floor. She’s stifling laughter when he leans up and kisses her softly. “Good morning to you, my sweet couch hog.”

“We could’ve moved at any time. Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Because I love you and wanted you to rest more than I cared about my own comfort,” he responds, only realizing as he finishes speaking that he may have said too much. His eyes, wider and brighter blue than she’s ever seen them, meet her steady gaze.

“I love you, too. But that’s a little dramatic of a reason for why you’re now on the floor.”

“I’d go to the ends of the earth for you. Or time. This time just happens to be on my remarkably uncomfortable area rug.” She can’t help the laugh that slips out this time and she runs her hands through his hair. Hangover be damned, she loves this man so much.

“Thanks again for last night. I was a bit of a mess,” she says, even though it feels like a vast understatement to what she actually was the day before. He waves his hand to dismiss her words.

“Sometimes, we just need to throw a mini-rager and burn a bunch of illegally obtained pornographic materials. You sure we’ll never need any of that as evidence in case there’s some kind of criminal investigation?”

“James was pretty clear with Walsh about what would happen to him if he tried to pursue legal action. Not only that, but every picture on the website has been removed and the only thing that pops up when the site is unlocked now is a picture of Walsh clutching his junk with an expression of pain on his face.”

“I wish I could’ve been there to see you make that hit,” Killian admits, pushing up off the cushion to stand. “Come, love, let’s sail away to the kitchen where I can recite dirty poetry to you and make you breakfast.”

She laughs as she takes his hand, because while he doesn’t recite dirty poetry, he does make her breakfast and convince her to play hooky with him for the day. And when he takes her to bed a short time later, he infuses her skin with the words of his love over and over again.

It’s the first time in years he doesn’t stick to any kind of routine at all, and they’re both perfectly okay with that.

-x-

Epilogue

#captain swan #cs ff au #captain swan ff #sarah writes ff #csrt

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lennydaisy · 4 years

Text

EPIPHANY SERIES // OUTER BANKS // CHAPTER ONE.

(n.) a moment when you suddenly feel that you understand. or suddenly become conscious of something that is very important to you.

“Care to seize the day, my friend?”

Outer Banks Season 1- FEM OC! and ?

Here's the Prologue in case you haven’t read it already <3 Check it out!

There is something that I should probably tell you: My Dad went missing at sea nine months ago looking for a shipwreck. Heavy, I know. My dad has always been obsessed with the waves and their secrets. Going above and beyond with his research just to understand the smallest corners of the ocean. I still remember the day he told me about this amazing ship called ‘The Royal Merchant’ like it was yesterday.

Bursting through the tarnished door of the Château, kicking my shoes off as I rushed into the kitchen, “Dad! Look what my friend made me,” I announced causing my dad to jump, smacking his head on the cabinet that he was tucked within, screwdriver in hand.

“Ow. Fuck!” he hissed and I gasped at the man, pointing accusingly at the jar which reads 'Pay up, Chuck!’. Grunting, but not objecting, he pulls out a dollar, stuffing it in the jar before turning around staring at my innocent face.

“You have a mark,” I giggled and gestured his whole face, “There,” and he just asked “Has it damaged my handsome face?” which I instantly shake my head at saying, “Of course not.”

“That’s my girl,” he ruffles my hair causing me to huff and swat away his hands as he pulls out a chair now looking eye-level at me, “And what’s this?” he asked, gently taking the delicate origami boat out of my small hands.

“It’s a boat,” I stated the obvious, “My friend and I are going to sail it tomorrow at the boat race,” I said proudly with my hands on my hips

“Oh really,” he raised his eyebrows at me, brushing his fingers over the pink initials on the side of the 'boat’.

’M&T’

“Yes. My friend has a remote control boat that he’s going to race and I want to take part too, so he made me this,” I confess, eyes sparkling at the boat my dad’s fiddling with, “It’s good isn’t it?”

My dad just looked at me, “Do you really want to enter the boat race?” he asked, his eyes searching mine for any sign of uncertainty.

“Well yeah,” I tilted my head, “Do you think I’ll win?”

“Can I show you something?” he asked ignoring my question which I scrunched my nose at, but nodded none the less. My paper boat still in hand, dad made his way over to his office and I followed behind cautiously, stopping at the door, peering in at him as he sits at his desk, “Come in Ladybug.”

Placing my boat at the head of his desk, he beckons me over, tapping the photographs he pulled out. It was a ship. I had never seen a ship like it before. It had huge, white sails that were propelled forward with the weight of the wind. Painted coal black with the most luxurious gold lining along the sides, but what stood out the most was the angel. At the bow of the ship, there was the most beautiful sculpture, its wings spread and arms wide, welcoming the waves that it cruised through.

“Wow,” was all I could say and my dad seemed to understand the overwhelmingness, “Amazing, isn’t it?” he asked and I nodded agreeing wholeheartedly.

“Imagine sailing that in the boat competition,” I dreamed, I could see it then. Me, standing tall and proud, captains hat on my head, sword in hand as I order us forward, trusting the directions of the angel.

“That would be something,” he muses tapping my nose as I was causing condensation to gather on the photo with how closely I was examining at it, “But sadly this ship sank a long time ago.”

The news shocked me. 'How could such a breathtaking ship just sink?’ I thought, so I asked just that.

“Well, sometimes ships don’t always make it through their voyage,” he reasoned and I looked at him with careful eyes, “Maybe it was pirates?” I suggested.

“Pirates?” he laughed, leaning back in his chair, watching with amusement as I darted around his office reenacting the scene of a Pirate trying to steal the ship, “Argh! Where be the gold?” a pencil held accusingly in his direction.

“At the bottom off the ocean.”

His abruptness caused me to lose character as I stared at him in curiosity, “Wait, really?” I jumped on his desk, my act is long forgotten as I swung my legs back and forward. He just nods, eyes wrinkling with a wide smile.

I grabbed his hand, shaking it, “Then what are we waiting for? Let go get it,” my innocence was nothing short of entertaining for my dad, “It’s a little harder than that, ladybug,” he answered, my shoulders dropping at his response, “And what would you do with $500 million in gold, huh?”

$500 million!? Ignoring my initial shock and answered back with the utmost certainty, “I’d go, full Kook.”

He chuckled at my honesty, reaching down for the old box that was sitting beside his chair. Pulling off the tape and rummaging through the brown tissue paper as I sneezed at the dust that danced around in the air.

He pulled out a boat. It was like a replica of the 'Royal Merchant’ with a bit of character. Its blue paint peeling off the sides and the single sail sitting askew at the mast. Passing it gently to me he said, “I want you to sail this at the boat competition tomorrow,” he announced as he timidly waited for my reaction.

“I know it’s old and not remote-controlled-” placing the boat beside me, I lunged forward pulling my dad in for a hug. The hairs on his chin digging into my shoulder caused me to back away slightly, “Thank you, Dad,” I whispered.

Picking up the boat, I stared at it proudly.

My own Royal Merchant.

“I call it… the 'HMS Pogue.”

I miss him.

Life was so much easier when I was five. No worries or responsibilities. Life was just… good.

Three months after he went missing the police declared him dead, but John B and I weren’t giving up. Until I see a body, I’m not signing anything.

As for mom, you’ve probably had a better chance of seeing her than I have. She left when we were three years old and moved to Colorado. At least John B said it was Colorado.

Then there’s the legend himself, Uncle T. I say legend because I haven’t seen him in years, for all I know he might not even be real. Since dad vanished he is supposed to be our legal guardian. However, he’s currently in Mississippi for construction, 'Building an Empire’, as he explained to me over the phone, or did he. No, he really did, something about him 'making his way up in the world.’Good for him, I guess?

So, for the time being, it’s just been, Johnny Boy and I. A pair of unemancipated teenagers who have been living on our own.

“It has come to our attention that you’re two unemancipated minors living on your own,” Cheryl says sighing, taking off her glass staring us down as if daring us to tell her otherwise.

John B and I exchange looks before turning back to Cheryl who looks at us expectingly, “No,” John B laughs scoffing at her 'assumption’. She tilts her head at John B, turning to me waiting for my Input, “Sounds false,” I say, going back to clicking the rather expensive pen that I nabbed off her desk.

Rolling her eyes at the pair of us, “What I need from you two is honesty,” reaching over in an attempt to snatch the pen out of my hand. I just hold it my above my head out of her reach with a childish smile. Sighing, she slumps back in her chair, “I want to help you. That’s what we want, right?” she continues.

“Yeah, we’ll be honest,” John B nods as I hold up three fingers, “Scouts honour,” I smile at the lady.

Letting out another sigh, 'God, she sighs a lot,’ she begins to write, “When was the last time you both saw your uncle?” she asks.

Not even having to look at my brother, I already know what he was going to say, “34 minutes ago,” we both announce. Cheryl glances up from her papers, squinting at our synchronization, “And when was the last time you saw him?”

“Two hours and 43 minutes ago,” I say again in sync with John B who shudders at the fact that I knew exactly what he was going to say. Shrugging off his wide eyes, I stare at Cheryl who places down her pen, hands now clasped professionally on her desk, “We’re going to come out tomorrow, to speak with your uncle. If he’s not there, we’re going to move forward with foster care.”

With that, John B and I stand up moving our way to the door, my knees slightly shaking at the lady’s words. John B holds the door open for me but pauses when Cheryl calls out, “I can assure you, both of you, we will find a safe and loving home,”

Turning back once more, “You don’t want this back, do you?” I ask, dangling the turquoise Tiffany pen catching her attention again.

“I’ll collect it when we come by tomorrow,” she dismisses.

'Right. Tomorrow.’

“How did you do that?” John B questions as we walk towards the van, “Do what?” I ask, sticking the pen behind my ear.

“Know what I was going to say to Cheryl,” He answers fishing the keys out of his pocket, “Because we’re psychic, remember?”

Feeling the lack of presence beside me, I turn to see John B just eyeing me down. Shrugging my shoulders, I reply, “You think out loud,” referring to John B’s concerning amount of mumbling before arriving here.

“I do not,” he mutters walking up to the driver’s side of the van, “also, you weren’t a scout,” he calls out.

“I know,” I admit, “It just made me feel less bad about lying.”

Sitting in the uncomfortable heat, my back sticking to the ripped leather seats, my head running with thoughts, I ask, “Do you think they’ll split us up?”

Looking out the rolled-down window all I see is passing houses and blurred faces. I see people with no worries and I can’t help but feel helpless in my situation. We have no control over anything that happens. Sure we can run, but how long is it until we run out of breath?

Sometimes I just wish we could go back in time, back to when my biggest problem in life was arguing with Pope that it was a useless skill knowing the first thirty numbers of PI. It’s impressive, super nerdy, but still impressive, and also completely useless. ’See, I still can’t get over it.’

“Is that what you’re so worried about? Us being split up,” he questions, now understand why the first five minutes of the drive home was unnaturally silent.

“Well yeah, doesn’t it scare you too? The thought of living with another family who have no idea who we are and take pity on us because our dad went missing,” my voice cracking slightly at the mention of dad. Even after nine months, it’s still hard to believe that he’s just… gone. Things like that don’t just happen. Not here. Not now.

“Hey,” he says rubbing my knee, I stop picking at my bracelet, looking up at him with damp eyes, “Foster care is the last place we’ll be going, okay?” Despite the niggling at the back of my head, I sheepishly nod at him now feeling stupid for getting upset about something that I knew John B would never allow to happen.

“And beside’s if they did split us up, which they won’t 'cause we’re not going to foster care, you’d for sure be given back after they realise how much of a pest you are,” I couldn’t help but laugh at his comment, rubbing my hand under my nose, “Oh, I’m the pest?” I cough, leaning my back against the door looking accusingly at the boy.

“100%. You know what your problem is?” looking in my direction quickly making sure I was still listening to him, a knowing smirk covering his face, “You love me too much and you can’t bare the thought of living without me.”

I know what he’s was saying was meant to be joke, but it holds truth behind it. I don’t know where I would be without John B. Say its because we’re twins and we naturally have that bond together, but he has been a constant rock throughout my life. He has always been there, not only from birth.

From when he learned how to walk before me and would attempt to lift me by my head urging me to do the same. From our first day at school, when we walked hand in hand through the gates. From my first relationship that didn’t last longer than a day because I got him to hand the poor boy a note saying 'I wanted to break up’.

I don’t know why I thought this would be any different.

John B didn’t have to be my friend. He could have just left it at 'sister’ and that’s it. But he didn’t and he never would. I might be his sister first and foremost, but secondly, I’m also his friend. A friend that he can tell anything to. A friend who he can lean on when times get tough. A friend who will always be there for him. I support and love him as a sister and as a friend.

He’s my rock.

“I really couldn’t,” I admit knowing fine well that if John B wasn’t here I wouldn’t want to know who I’d be. I’d be a completely different person and that’s a person I’d rather not meet.

“Don’t get all sappy on me now,” he says pulling up to the Château, bringing the van to a stop. Pushing open the door, I stop when I hear him confess, “I couldn’t live you either,” he smiles at me.

“Look whose being sappy now,” closing the door behind me, making my way round to the front of the house.

“Hey, you’ll be alright on your own for a bit yeah? I’m going to head in town, see what’s up with the storm,” he calls and I just nod and eagerly ask, “Can you bring me home Reese’s cup? Kie ate them all.”

“Pretty sure it was you who ate them all, but sure Mace,” he honks the horn as I wave him off down the road.

The Château. Home sweet home. Well, as sweet as an old fish shack on the marsh can be. It might not look like much, but if you can look past the peeling wallpaper, leaking ceiling, tatted coach, and a terrible internet connection, you’d see a home.

Kicking off my shoes, I welcome in the smell of burnt toast courtesy of John B this morning. 'It’s not burnt, just lightly crisped,’ he said. If you would consider a chard slice on bread to be 'lightly crisped’ then he’s an expert at making toast.

I’ve had a tough day, more like a tough year, but I digress. My dad’s missing, mom’s out of the picture, my uncle is M.I.A, and now the bride of Frankenstein is threatening me with foster care. I deserve a gold star just for not going insane yet.

Pulling out dad’s stash of old records, my eyes flicker until I set sight on the album. 'Elvis’ Gold Records Vol 4,’ smiling fondly at the faded cover, the corners hanging together for dear life with the number of times its been played.

Tactfully, I place the record on the turntable of dad’s '54 Garrard oak record player. Gently I blow on the record until the static scratching fades and Elvis’ soulful voice fills the room with an energy that I can’t help, but dance to.

'You look like an angel, walk like an angel,’

I prance around the room, mumbling the lyrics under my breath, swaying my hips slowly, losing myself for just a moment within the strumming of the bass. Just as fast, I’m jumping around the living room like Tazmanian Devil, flipping my hair as I pretend to be playing the instruments as the chorus drops.

'You’re the devil in disguise, oh yes, you are the devil in disguise,’

I grab the stick of deodorant, using it as a microphone as I yell the lyrics, pointing at my reflection like a rockstar. My eyes instantly closing as a glare of light reflects into my eyes, 'It’s the paparazzi, they’ve found me,’ I thought.

I was wrong.

Squeezing one eye open, still posing in my rockstar stance, I spot the reflection a hysterical JJ hunched over on himself, phone in hand as he runs the other through his hair, “Pope was right, you can’t sing, or dance,” he wheezes, wiping away the streaks running down his red cheeks.

Sighing, I place the deodorant back in its place, turning to face the boy, my eyes follow him as he types away, nose buried in his phone, 'So much for my big break.’ Flicking off the record, I hear the sound of my singing protruding from JJ’s phone, the boy still laughing at what he had just witnessed.

“You better not show that to anyone,” I threat, holding eye contact with him and he nods, “Don’t worry May, this is for my eyes only,” he sniggers waving his phone around soon shoving it into the back pocket of his shorts.

“Why are you here anyway?” I question watching JJ kick his feet up on the couch, arms crossed leisurely behind his head. He nods in the direction of his disregard bag that he dumped in the middle of the room, “Well, as you can see, I packed a bag and-”

“And now you’re in my house… why?” I interrupt still failing to see the logic behind him being here. He was here this morning and he was back already?

“Storm Aggies hitting tonight and I know how much you hate storms so, naturally here I am” he excuses, “To protect you,” he explains but I just stayed focussed on the boy with raised eyebrows.

Eventually getting tired of his own excuses, JJ sits up, legs in a basket, picking at the rings on his fingers, “My dad’s been on a three-day bender,” he admits and trails off, “I just don’t want to deal with him right now.”

’Welp, now I feel like an asshole.’

Of course, I know about JJ’s home life and all the terrible shit his dad, if you could even call him that, puts him through. I realised pretty early on in our friendship when he showed up at the Château one day with a shiner. When my dad opened the door he was instantly alarmed at the spurt of colour invading the young boy’s face, but JJ being JJ just brushed it off and said he fell.

My dad wasn’t stupid and had his speculations about JJ’s father, often seeing the drunk man stumbling around the marsh, but he didn’t want to question the boy as he had no idea what he goes through behind closed doors.

That night when JJ went home, dad told both John B and I that we should never go to JJ’s house on our own, but never actually telling us the reason why. As you can probably guess, I didn’t listen to my dad’s wishes, and what I learned that day changed the way I saw JJ.

It was weird. I had never gone this long without seeing the boisterous blonde.

Last week JJ promised me that he would take me to see his dad’s boat. ‘The Phantom’, he called it. After recently seeing how interested I had gotten into boats and ships he wanted to show me his dad’s most prized possession.

So, there I was, sitting at the curb outside my house, two ice-cold ice pops in hand, a strawberry one for me and an orange one for JJ, waiting patiently for the boy in question.

My tongue and lips were tinted pink as my wonderous eyes watched the passing cars and letting out the occasional 'awe’ when dogs strutted past.

'Where is he? His ice pop’s melting,’ I thought as the cold condensation ran down my hands, evaporating as soon as the drips hit the burning tarmac.

'He wouldn’t ditch me, would he?’ I instantly shook away my doubts, 'JJ would never do that, don’t be stupid Mason.’

Sparing a glance over my shoulder I saw dad and John B getting ready to head to the marsh in hopes of catching some drum. When I saw the boat head out into the water, I brushed myself off and ran in the direction of JJ’s house.

Now, I knew that my dad told me never to go there, but I wasn’t planning on chapping his door, I would just hopefully meet him halfway. Maybe he was late?

JJ’s house wasn’t far from mine, I was practically a straight road. Something you’ll notice about the cut is the further you venture in the more, how should I put it, Pogue-like it gets, and JJ’s house was no exception to this.

Having not seen a glimpse of his blonde locks, I wandered down the dirt drive aside of the house.

That’s when I heard it.

Whilst stepping through the long grass, dodging the scattered litter, broken beer bottles, and petrol canisters. I paused. Too scared to move.

“Where do you think you’re going, boy?” I heard a gravelling voice slur, I assumed it was his dad. As skillfully as possible, I tiptoed to the wall of the house, leaning over slightly to peer in through the screened porch.

I don’t know who I saw that day but, it wasn’t my JJ.

My JJ had this aura of mischief around him. My JJ had boisterously messy hair and wild eyes sparkling with strength. My JJ was my knight in shining armour, but the boy I was looking at was… broken. An empty shell. Not at all JJ.

“Out,” was all he said. That’s all he said.

What I saw that day stayed with me forever. I couldn’t watch it. The sight of JJ being tackled to the ground by his dad caused me to gasp, ducking back against the wall, trembling fingers over my mouth as all I could do was listen with numb ears.

I can’t remember how long it went on for, the cries and pleas seemed to play on repeat. The slamming of a car door and the kickback of dirt hitting my shins brung me back to that sad reality. Watching the car speed off with damp eyes, I wobbled my way around the house.

“JJ,” I whispered trying not to frighten the boy, but ultimately doing so when the screen door let out an ear pinching screak.

Once lying on his back, but now he stood defensively before me, eyes wide, “May? What,-” he chocked, using the back of his hand in an attempt to wipe away the blood that crept its way onto his white teeth, “what are you doing here?”

He attempted to shield his face from my wavering eyes, but I still saw. I saw his swollen lip. I saw his bloodshot eyes. I saw the handprints around his neck.

I saw him.

“We were supposed to hang out today,” I reminded him, but instantly shook my head and took a step closer to him as he took one back, bumping into the cabinet causing a cluster of empty beer bottles to smash against the floor.

Crouching down, mumbling something like 'his dads going to kill him,’ he attempts to pick up the shards of glass, hissing as they stuck to his fingers.

Still timid with my actions, I spoke up, “Go grab a first aid kit,” as I looked around the messy living room for a safe way to clean the glass, “I’ve got it,” but the boy just cried.

In front of the broken glass sat a more broken boy, head buried in his hands, knees up to his chest that heaved with panic. It hurt to see JJ like this. It was like seeing what happens behind the curtain and it frankly terrified me. The thought that this had been happening to my best friend and I had no idea.

I was so used to JJ being there for me that I didn’t stop to think 'Who was there for him?’ And that makes me a terrible friend.

I ignored the screaming of the old floorboards under my weight. I ignored the feeling of the glass digging into my knees. I ignored, despite how difficult it was, the guilt that ached my heart.

I just hugged him.

My JJ.

From that day forward I promised myself one thing: that I would never be innocently ignorant of what is going on around me.

Life isn’t always sunshine and daffodils, with peaceful doves and poetic words. Life can be cruel and unfair for a variety of reasons, majority none of our own, and that’s where friends come in. All you have to do is show them that sometimes the grass is greener on the other side and sometimes it isn’t, but that’s okay because as long as you’re there for them, the tiniest shed of light can grow a flower.

“You’re gonna have to start paying rent dude,” I joke in hopes of lifting his spirit and it partly works as the corners of his mouth twitch upwards, “But hey, you’re always welcome here, alright?”

JJ knows that I would never turn him away, but sometimes he just needs that little bit of reassurance. No matter what, our door is always open, for anyone really, who might need a break from their life because I can guarantee that once they see the shitshow that is my life, they’ll realise that they’re not alone.

Holding eye contact with me, he nods sheepishly, “I know,” causing bliss to erupt in the pit of my stomach.

But shy JJ never lasts very long. That smirk that I know all too well tells me that I’m in for a ride tonight, “Besides, with this fresh, juicy bait that I have on you now, you’d never let me leave.”

There he is, that’s the JJ I know and love.

“You might single-handedly be the most annoying person I’ve ever met.” I just poured a bit of my heart out to this boy and what does he do? He laughs in my face, but I can’t help but giggle at the sight of his eyes popping out at my sudden confession, “Might!? There’s someone else!?”

The night that Storm Agatha hit the Outer Banks was filled with nothing but playful banter, the chugging of many beers, and a friendly, not so friendly, game of Go-Fish.

Whether it was intensional or not, JJ made me forget all about the whirling winds that subtly shook the Château. Instead fogging my mind with his failed attempts to try and cheat himself a win.

I could deny it until the cows come home, but there’s no point.

JJ is my knight in shining armour.

He’s my JJ.

But, I’ll never tell him that.

Chapter One: FIN!

Oft, two flashbacks in one, sounds goos to me. There will be a lot of these throughout this story. I feel as though it helps me establish Mason’s current relationships with those around her, but I’ll let you be the judge of that.

What did you think?

I didn’t mean to hit you with fluff, angst, and then fluff again, but I’m proud of this chapter, even if its just the very beginning and we still have a lot to go through so, saddle up troops.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter <3

Also, if anyone would like to be tagged in future chapters just let me know and I will for sure do that!

*TAGLIST*

@xshinytrashcanx

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kessielrg · 4 years

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[Kingdom Hearts] Sabi in the Sky with Diamonds

Summary: In which Ventus wakes from an unscheduled naptime and tries to make heads or tails of the figure over him. He then proceeds to aggressively flirt with the last person who wants him to flirt with her. Inspired by two prompts (x and x) by @dialouge-prompts on Tumblr. [established VentusxOC][modern AU][oneshot]

Word Count: 1,763 words

Rating: K+

If you like this story, please reblog!

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The last thing Ventus could easily remember was someone shouting his name, and a very loud crack. What he knew now was… not a lot, actually. His eyelids were too heavy to open, his limbs felt like someone had filled them with lead, and somewhere -far too distant from here- was someone trying to call his name.

Panic was probably the first sense that came back to him. He struggled to open his eyes with a sudden desperation. When Ventus could finally open his eyes, he was immediately -and harshly- greeted with a flash of light. Ven squinted as his sense of sight came back to him. As it turns out- light was incredibly bright.

Heh…

Light is bright.

Light bright.

Lite Bright.

Aqua used to have Lite Bright. She had used it as a way to express her current emotion for that day. She never used the backing paper, so the Lite Bright itself became a colorful, one sided lamp. Did she still have it? He felt like she had lost all the little pegs before he and Vanitas moved in. She probably didn't have it anymore.

Regardless, the biggest factor of his brain coming back into consciousness was realizing something was standing over him. This something was blocking a lot of the light coming into Ven's eyes. He was grateful for this something. He tried to get a better look at it. Or them, as it seemed. A girl, to be even more precise, as his eyes were able to adjust for the brightness around the figure.

He originally thought that her hair and eyes were the same color. Both looked incredibly dark in the circumstances he found himself in. But he realized that her hair was actually a different color than her eyes. The girl's long raven black hair was tucked behind her ear on one side, with the rest hanging freely beside her. She was almost so close that if Ven moved his face a certain way, his nose could just barely brush against the ends.

And then there were her eyes. They held a nice soft brown color that nearly made Ven take a deep breath in. There was even a certain kind of haughtiness in those eyes. As he couldn't help but stare into them, Ven found that they trying to hold back a grave concern. He knew those eyes, and a name came to mind that he couldn't quite figure out yet. It was at the tip of his tongue. Didn't it start with an S? Like… Sayuri. Or Sable? Or maybe even… “Sabrina.” Ventus croaked. The girl paused, looking at him now with a quirked eyebrow. If Ven's arms didn't feel like weights had been attached, he might have placed a gentle hand against her cheek. Her skin looked rather smooth. And pale. Almost like a real life porcelain doll. Vanitas tried to scare Ventus with one of those before- and shortly after watching the Chucky remake, no less. Ven still hated his twin for doing that. There were a lot of things he hated his twin for.

“Sabrina.” Ven repeated, his voice a bit more steady now. “You’re… beautiful.”

And just like that, any worry that was on her face was wiped clean away.

“And you’re concussed.” she shot back with a grimace.

For some reason, he felt rather proud about that. Or maybe it was because he had gotten her name right on the first try. However, even though he had her name, he still only had faint inklings of who she was.

“Are you dating anyone?” Ven lazily asked as Sabrina moved to check his pulse rate.

“Yes.” she immediately snapped.

Ven's face quickly fell at the response. He even let out a small, disappointed, “Oh.”

Sabrina looked over and cocked an eyebrow at him. “It's you, you dumbass.”

Ventus's eyes lit up halfway. “Really?”

“Unfortunately.” the young woman grumbled in response.

A wistful sigh escaped the young man's lips as he relaxed his body. His eyes trained up to the inky black sky above them. It was a new moon tonight, and that meant the stars were far more visible than usual. There was going to be a meteor shower tonight, right? That's why he and her were outside? They had come with other people too, didn't they? If that was the case, why was Sabrina the only one that seemed worried about him? Not that it mattered, he didn't want to stop fondly staring at her while she checked him over.

Ven gave another sigh before wistfully remarking, “Look at the stars.”

“Don’t.” came the swift warning.

“Look how they shine for you.”

“Stop it!” Sabrina now demanded without so much looking over at him.

“I wish I could go back in time.” Ven wistfully sighed. “You know why?”

Sabrina refused to answer, but he took it as a sign to continue anyway.

“Because I'd tell the Romans to rearrange the alphabet so U and I are together.”

And that was when Sabrina slapped him across the face. His cheek immediately flared from the impact- if his arms didn't feel like they were filled with lead, he could have rubbed the spot with a pout.

“Ow.” Ven retorted. “Love hurts.”

“Gonna make it hurt more if you don't freaking shut up.”

Ven gave a small groan and a pout as he relaxed his body again.

“Sabrina! Ven!” a new voice called out. It didn't take much for Ventus to know that it was Terra- he'd recognize that voice anywhere. The boy could only manage to move his chin slightly to be sure. Sure enough, the familiar browned hair young adult came into Ven's view. He looked a lot more worried than what Sabrina was letting on.

“Is Ven alright?” Terra questioned, looking to Sabrina. The glare she gave him was practically venomous.

“He's flirting with me,” she spat, “He's fine.”

Terra recoiled at this. His face changing from worry to one of personal affront.

“You do understand that isn't a good indicator.”

“Terra,” Ven tried to speak up, “Am I a good photographer?”

Confused, Terra looked down at Ven. “I don't think you take photos at all.” he admitted. “Why?”

Giving a lopsided grin, Ven looked back at Sabrina and said, “Because I can picture Sabi and I together.”

“See?!” Sabrina demanded.

“That was kinda bad...” Terra admitted, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck.

Sabrina rolled her eyes as she got up on her feet. Standing over Ven, she carefully took his arms to try to hoist him up. Even with the upper body strength of a ballerina, Ven was a lot heavier than he looked, leaving her to have very little luck in even getting him to sit up. After about three failed tries, she turned to Terra and gave an impatient huff.

"Can you help me get this moron so we can take him home?" she prudently asked him.

“You must be so exhausted,” Ventus cheerily told her, “Running through my mind...”

“Before I kick him.” Sabrina added on with a grimace. Terra simply snorted at her. He did get Ven though; taking care to use an arm to support Ven's back, and the other to tuck under his knees, before hoisting him up as simple as a basket of laundry. With Ven securely in Terra's arms, Sabrina absently hugged herself.

“Thanks.” she grumbled.

“He's going to the hospital,” Terra reminded her before starting to head to his truck.

“W-wait!” Ven sluggishly whined. “I want to stay with her! I was told to follow my dreams, and there she is!”

Despite his better judgment, Terra snorted. “Don't worry Romeo, she'll be waiting for you when you get home. I almost guarantee it.”

This seemed to sate the boy somewhat- relaxing in Terra's arms, but still trying to get a last glimpse at Sabrina. She was doing her best not to look concerned. It was here that the casual observer would have assumed a faint ignorance to Ven's safety. But her worry was very quietly hidden in the wrinkles on her forehead. A fool would say it was because of her furrowed eyebrows. Ven knew better than that. He knew her better than that.

When Ventus and Terra were no longer in eye range, Sabrina let her guard down for all of a moment to let out a sigh of relief. That moment of vulnerability was quickly replaced with indifference when she could hear someone coming up to her.

“Well princess,” the voice of someone truly loathsome hissed into her ear, “That was an adventurous ten minutes. Don't you think?”

Sabrina immediately whirled around to smack the newcomer with her fist, but he was faster than her- taking a tight hold of her wrist just seconds before she could make impact. Smirking at her failed attempt was none other than Vanitas. He looked so smug- it only made Sabrina want to punch him harder. She growled as she struggled to get out of Vanitas's grip. But, just like her efforts of trying to pick Ven up, it was useless.

“Why would you purposely hit Ventus with a baseball?” she instead growled at him.

“I was trying to help you out, princess.” Vanitas claimed with half a shrug and a snide smirk.

“By murdering your own brother?!”

“By giving you a chance to flirt back, obviously. It's not like he's going to remember all of this later.”

“I'll make him remember,” she hissed, “Just like how you're going to remember this.” And without any other warning, she kneed him in the exact place where it would hurt the most. Vanitas immediately let her hand go, flinching at the pain he had put himself in. Sabrina adjusted herself for a moment before standing tall.

“If you even dare try to hurt him like that again, I'll gut you in your sleep. Got it?”

Even in pain, Vanitas winched out a smirk. “So feisty,” he snickered. “I see why he likes having you around.”

He didn't really deserve a swift kick to his kneecaps, but it felt cathartic.

With Vanitas in a sufficient amount of pain, Sabrina gave a rather satisfied grin before spinning on her heel to head to her car.

“Wait,” Vanitas tried to argue, his voice only slightly giving away how much pain he was in. “Where do you think you're going? You're my ride home now!”

“Sounds like a personal problem.” Sabrina callously informed him from over her shoulder. And with that, she left Vanitas on the ground, still in pain, as he freely cussed her out.

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