#Her whole story was absolutely an escape from her family the minute she could and helped by justin

[freebooter4ever]

how's the job hunt going? would you ever relocate for a job love?

Oh wow what a question lol! Honestly i dont expect to be able to find anything new till this strike is over, the competition is insane right now. In the meantime my plan is to teach myself faster hard surface sculpting in z*brush using hockey gear \o/ mostly because i dont want to pay the $150 a month for maya, that shits insane. Like a fucking health insurance payment.

For the second question - i dont think i've ever experienced love like that. I think it would take a lot of devotion and sacrifice to give up your dreams for someone else. Admirable, for sure. And also a sacrifice that historically women are the ones expected to make. Every time. :( For a job? Lol, i would move in a heartbeat. I stayed in pittsburgh 6 years after college for my dream job - i only left when i lost it. Knew the next dream job wasnt going to be there, so made my way to LA. And now im having to come to terms with the idea that the dream job doesnt exist as i imagined it - or only exists for a very VERY select few.

And actually, thats not totally true about me and love. I think if i thought for one second that nick could love me back like i diid him, id already be in new england. When i applied to this one job, that sounded like a dream come true it listed the salary, and brian and i just read it and gaped. We looked at each other and i was like i dont even know what the fuck i would DO with all that. And of course the first thing that popped into my mind was i could buy that sailboat nick always talked about. When i was writing my programming textbook a decade ago, and really going through it, and nick and i were up until 3 or 4am every night painting theater sets, he'd talk about his sailing adventures, teach me rope knots, that sort of thing, basically a mental escape. And so last week i texted him like 'hey no promises but what if im suddenly actually making good money. Do you still want that boat?' Because, nick's worked so long and so hard and all he's gotten to is the point of still working on boats other people own, and its just not fair how devalued physical labor is, you know? And his immediate reaction was to launch into our very old daydream - the whole 'yes and you're coming with me, sail off into the sunset' stuff. And that hadnt occured to me - my idea was just- id give him the boat, and he'd fix it up, and id maybe demand photos or a visit or two every so often. Because i think finally -finally- im at a point in my life where being in love isnt enough - i want the other person to love me back. And lol definitely not someone who declares love one minute and then stops talking to me for weeks or months, and the cycle repeats over and over. I think its possible to love someone enough that you recognize you arent the one for them, but still want them to be happy? Happier than you could make them.

So long answer is yes, i would relocate for love, but i have learned the hard way to know when i shouldn't.

[lemon-lime-behavior]

Yes please!! Explain more! I’m so invested in the story and kids!!!!! Also thank you for being kind 🩷

No problem!!

welp, okay, put extremely simply and probably just a little bit wrong too because its been a hot minute and I have the memory of a goldfish, here’s the gist of it:

Sanji was born the prince of a kingdome called Germa (though it’s really more of a glorified mercenary group with delusions of being a kingdom) in the North Blue, the third of four quadruplet sons. His father king judge fancied himself a scientist and wanted to make his children into supersoldiers (via genetic modification) that could lead his armies and destroy his enemies. He wanted them to be super strong, fast, have impervious metal skin, be totally obedient and have basically no emotions. Perfect soldiers!

His wife Queen Sora was not stoked about this, especially after seeing what it looked like in their firstborn daughter Reiju, so when Judge tried to pull the same thing with the quadruplets she drank a special syrum to counteract the conditioning. Unfortunately it only worked on one of the princes, Sanji, and the other three (Ichiji, Niji, and Yonji) came out modified and were trained by their father into being perfect little monsters that made Sanji’s childhood a living hell. Sora was super sick fter all that and eventually died when the princes were very young. Long story short Sanji eventually escaped with Reiju’s help, got picked up by Zeff after Tragic Backstory 2: Starvation Rock Boogaloo, and eventually joined the straw hat pirates. Fast forward some more and there’s this whole *thing* that happens with his birth family trying to blackmail him into a political marriage blah blah blah blah he’s eventually rescued but now he’s very worried that due to certain circumstanced, his genetic modifications might have just been dormant and are now awakening within him, and eventually he’ll turn out just like his siblings, which is like, one of his worst nightmares. It hasn’t fully happened yet, but who knows!

So that’s all what happens in canon. What I’m doing in my own little fankids au is imagining that the genetic mutations are in fact dormant in Sanji and while they never fully materialize in him, they do pop up in one of his children, because genetic. So Kuina has black hair (because the mods include hair color changes and if Sanji was fully modified there’s evidence his hair would’ve been black) and she has unbreakable skin and enhanced physical abilities and she has… I guess what can be described as an empathy disorder? Like she experiences emotions differently and isn’t great at understanding/mirroring emotions in others. However, I don’t believe that makes someone a monster. Sanji’s brothers are absolutely terrible people because they were raised to be that way by Judge, who is absolutely a monster himself, entirely of his own volition. Reiju is not as bad as her brothers, because she had some positive influnce from their mother Sora. Kuina is gonna grow up absolutely surrounded by love and a lot of very honorable moral conviction, so while there will be ups and downs, I think she’s gonna be all right.

[whomeidontknowthem]

I was trying to articulate why I like "bad characters", and bitter realism is definitely a reason there, but I was also walking around a much more complicated and also trauma dump-y reason. But fuck it, why not indulge my habit of oversharing on this site, right?

I was, for a period of time that wasn't even that long ago, a kinda Caretaker. And I was bad at it.

It was all honestly kinda whumpy in retrospect.

Whumpee appeared in my life one day, wishing to escape an awful situation and having nowhere to go, so of course I let her in. She was obviously traumatized, and I had enough experience with it to know what was going on, and I tried my hardest to help.

A lot of stuff happened. Holding her bleeding body after she lost consciousness in my bathroom? Check. Having her startle and and stare at me in uncomprehending horror when I did such strange things for her like buy her favorite candies? Check. Spending hours and hours hugging and comforting her through another nightmare, another panic attack, another episode of not being able to move? Check. Holding her hand as she went to a therapist, encouraging trying but allowing her to back down when she ultimately thought she didn't want that? Check. Check check check check. She told some of the wildest stories I've heard before or after. With how some of them went, being a mess of trauma and coping mechanisms was completely understandable.

I tried. My absolute damn hardest. To be the kind of person I wished was there for me: to be steady and calm, supportive no matter what, give her whatever comfort and help I could, never flinching when it crossed my boundaries, because I wanted to help, right? I wanted what was best for her. She deserved so much better, and she didn't have anybody else to turn to, how could I say no?

(tw sexual assault until the end of this paragraph. One of the ways that helped her feel loved and safe was physical contact. I am bad at it. I don't like being touched. But she wanted it, and so I gave it to her, hours of dissociating and waiting for it to end because I wanted to help her. With the need for physical contact came the desire for sex. One day, she touched me and hinted at doing sex (it wasn't the first time) and I fell apart, unable to stop crying for a whole dozen minutes, shaking and wanting nothing more than for everything to stop. I calmed down, and she asked if I was okay, and I answered that sure. She told me it made her feel bad that I didn't want to have sex with her. I didn't want her to feel bad. I gave in. It wasn't the only time, as you can imagine. I was trying to help her -- in whatever way that came.)

Either way. It lasted for about a year. Her health did get better -- no more collapsing on my bathroom floor or being incapable of moving for long stretches of time. She was often exhausted and always brittle, and I tried my damn hardest to never show any frustration, any anger. Healing is hard and recovery isn't linear and it's gonna hurt before it gets better. I knew that from experience. My last suicide attempt was less than a month before she moved in.

I couldn't hide that I was, too, exhausted beyond reason most of the time. Most of my waking time, my every thought was dedicated to trying to figure out what was best for her. Give her time and attention and love, and then swallow back my own triggers when she pulled away because I worded something wrong. Give her my everything, and refuse to acknowledge it was taking a toll on me, because that one time I brought it up she burst into tears and refused to talk to me in fear of being too much. I was trying to help her. I was really, really trying.

I needed a break, and the summer break was coming, and I was expected to come to my hometown and take care of my little brother and my overworked mother for a bit. I told... Whumpee: "I was going to see my family for a bit." I invited her to come with me and promised to visit her in just a couple of weeks. I left her the keys for our shared flat and my credit card in case she needed money.

Two weeks in, she wrote to me that she'd talked to her family (the awful situation she was running away from in the beginning). They told her I was abusive, holding her back and limiting her, and who knows. Maybe I was. I didn't know how to navigate any of that, and I tried to talk her out of continuing with that job she took that threw her back to the whole nose bleeding to the point of dizziness and near collapsing. I didn't want her to hurt herself (kinda because I didn't want to deal with the consequences, because I already felt like I was spread way too thin, trying to care in any way I could), and that was limiting. Maybe I should have let her do whatever she wanted. Just be a safe space for her to return to? I tried to be that, genuinely, but apparently I failed.

Whatever. I don't think I was ever cut out to be a caretaker.

She told me in that message: the fact that I called my mother and brother "family" meant she wasn't my family. Meant I didn't love her. I promised I did, and reminded I was coming home to her soon. Just another week?

By the end of the week she told me she never wanted to see me again. Her right. I didn't try to stop her: it was her decision. I was trying damn hardest to let her decide things and respect these decisions. If being with me sucked and she wanted out, I was damn sure going to respect that. In the beginning, she wanted me to promise I'd never leave her, and I did promise that, ignoring my every reluctance to say the words like "love" or "forever", letting her in and working my best to stump out any of my trauma reactions that would have made me push her away. She promised to stay, too, but that was okay. She was obviously allowed to change her mind. I almost started to believe those nice words she wanted to hear from me, but I knew a forever was a silly fantasy. It was okay. I wanted what was best for her.

I told her that, and by the time I came home our shared flat was empty. It was dirty, too: dishes left in the sink, fridge turned off for some reason, with piles of rotting food inside. That was something to fixate on, the frustration of having to clean up mold instead of the pain of the fact that I had failed and was never going to see her again.

I've never talked to her again. I wanted to. But she told me in no uncertain terms that I was an abusive asshole holding her back, and I didn't want to distress her by reminding her of my existence. If that was so bad, it's for the best if I don't remind her.

As far as I know she's alive. I hope that she's doing better now. I don't know if she does, but I sure damn hope that she found something that works better for her. I was sure not that. Not enough.

But either way. Undoubtedly good caretakers that only want the best and somehow never fail make feel uncomfortable. Guilty, I suppose? They annoy me both because I never had such a person in my life, and because I failed to be such a person. Seeing a character unflinchingly take the burden of the other's whole existence and then manage it, somehow, makes me feel like even more of a failure than I already do. If they can do it, surely I should have tried harder? Be less selfish? More considerate? Less broken, in my own way? Give her more space to make her own decisions, and help her deal with the consequences whatever those were. I don't know what I could have done differently or better, but surely there had to be something. Surely.

I had panic attacks about that for half a year afterwards. Arguably, I had a near panic state just the other week, because of that experience and other fun experiences of my life that are definitely not trauma, nuh-huh. Just thinking about it -- about being required to give my all to someone, again, to push away every emotion, every discomfort, every desire to cry and ask to be left alone, or cry and beg to stop her from leaving. I felt trapped, many times. Letting her hug me when I didn't want to be touched, staring at the ceiling and waiting for it to be over. Desperate for it to be over, sometimes. It sucks that it was like that. She deserved someone who truly wanted her in every way, not the tired facsimile of care.

It took a toll and I wish it hadn't, and I wish I could be better at pretending it hadn't, and I wish I could have been satisfied with making her my entire world (she hated it, when I spent time with other people, I barely talked to any of my friends during the year) the way she wanted to make me hers. I wish it didn't hurt so much more than a year later, some potent mix of failure and guilt and loss and relief and loss again.

It sucks that it went like that.

I'm glad that she left, because I wouldn't have.

Real life is too complicated to put into the nice easy boxes of whump tropes. And that kinda sucks.

[saiilorstars]

Ch. 31: The Scamander Family

Fandom: Harry Potter (Hogwarts years 1-7) Pairing: Draco x OFC

taglist: @ocappreciationtag  @arrthurpendragon  @anotherunreadblog  @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @foxesandmagic @kmc1989

​​​​Story Masterlist // Romina’s Masterlist

Fanfic • Ao3 • Wattpad

If you’d like to be a part of this OC’s work/edits, let me know!

Hogwarts was bursting with all types of rumors following the escape of Sirius Black. It was almost hilarious to learn the ranges of those rumors. Romina had her fair share of laughs only minutes after she was let go from the night wing. After the night they'd gone through (the part they knew about anyways), Madame Pomfrey had kept her, Hermione, Ron and Harry for a night of observation and one "reconstruction".

Now that Romina was free, she did the only sane thing that anyone in her place would do: go to her Common Room and shower. She was eager to put on fresh clean clothes and fix herself up. After all, exams were over and now all they had to do was just lounge about. And for some reason, she felt lighter than she had in a very long time. She was on her way to the library to return the books she'd checked out for the exams when she bumped into Harry. He didn't look too well and upon asking the reason, she found it hard to keep her cheeriness up.

"Poor Lupin," she put a hand over her chest. "He's just going to leave like that?"

"Well, according to him, somebody let it slip that he was a werewolf," Harry rolled his eyes heavily. The whole conversation with Lupin was irritating because it was all due to someone's bitterness. "As if we don't know that it was Snape."

Romina had no doubt about it too. Snape had been beyond livid that Sirius had escaped and pinned the blame on Harry, despite the fact that he wasn't the only one involved in the whole thing. "I'm sorry. He really was the best professor we had for DADA. Definitely the most interesting one."

Harry could only sigh. There was nothing they could do for Lupin now. "Do you want to have breakfast together? Ron and Hermione are already there."

"Nah, gotta return these." Romina gestured to the books in her arms. "Then afterwards, I promised Arden and the group I'd go to Hogsmeade this time. You know, willingly and in a good mood."

Harry half smiled as she bid him goodbye. She was only a few steps away when he called her name. She looked back, eyebrows raised as she waited to hear what he had to say. Harry had no idea how to broach the subject because last time, they didn't exactly talk so much as snap at each other.

"You and, um, you and Malfoy—what's that about?" He supposed that was the best question he was going to be able to form. He watched the confusion flicker across Romina's face as well as the brief, and not so subtle, shift in her stance.

"What do you mean?" she asked, half shrugging her shoulders. "He's...him and I'm...me?"

Harry long knew her tricks to avoid the subject. She used them on the school playground to outwit other students. "Rom," he said sternly.

Romina sighed and turned completely to face him. "What do you want me to say, Harry? I just fixed his nose," she insisted. "Hermione broke it and I didn't want him to go blabbing to Snape." You didn't even think about that you liar. Romina cleared her throat and looked away.

"He wouldn't have," Harry said with absolute certainty. "Because Malfoy could never stand to let people know that he was bested by Hermione Granger, a muggleborn."

Point to Harry.

Romina shrugged again, less confident with her responses. "I just didn't want to take the chance, okay?" Liar. She hadn't once thought about the consequences Hermione could have faced for her action but the realization was scary enough and she definitely wasn't looking to get more questions from Harry.

"Rom, you and I, we've known each other since we were seven...I love you like a sister…"

Romina smiled lightly. "I feel the same. You're my brother."

"Okay," Harry nodded, hoping that this would soften the blow of what he was going to ask next, "So, keeping that in mind, you know, that I just want to make sure that you're okay."

"Yeah, just like I want the same for you."

"Right," Harry said, agreeing, taking a couple steps towards her. "And I get that being in Slytherin means you have to see Malfoy a lot more than we do—an act that I thank you for your service." Romina's lips stretched into a wider smile that could soon become a chuckle. "But, I mean, with everything that's happened, everything I've seen, you and Malfoy...you're not...you know…?"

Romina laughed on cue but absolutely nobody could take away the insane heat that rushed up to her face. "Harry Potter, what the hell kind of question is that?" She laughed so easily that Harry could believe her. "Absolutely not!"

"You sure?" Harry had to ask her again. "Cos, Rom, you know that wouldn't end well. He's not a good match for you."

Romina shrugged her shoulders in a careless manner, convincing too. "Good, because I wasn't looking for one with him. I don't under—I don't understand. You got all this just because I fixed his nose? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"

It did sound ridiculous and Harry himself felt very ridiculous, which was why he wanted to quickly move from the subject. "Sorry. I'm...I'm sure you're right. It's not even worth talking about."

"Yeah," Romina nodded at him. "Exactly."

"I mean, you're better off dating Angel Paes."

"Oh God, you know about that?" Romina brought a hand to her face in embarrassment.

Harry grinned. "Yeah. Hermione pointed it out."

"Dammit Hermione!"

"He's loads kinder and, you know, I would tolerate him," Harry said with an innocent face that made Romina laugh.

"Don't even go there! He's never actually made a move and, you know, I don't really see him that way either!"

"You never know," Harry said, beginning to tease her. She suspected that it would become his new game with her.

Romina rolled her eyes. "Not you too. Stop it, Harry Potter, or I'm going to hex you."

"I'm going back to the Dursleys soon—a hex sounds really good right about now."

Romina had no disagreements there. "How about we find something to calm them down before you go home?"

"Sounds like a date—don't tell Angel, though!" Romina groaned while he laughed. Harry preferred this type of atmosphere between them. "I'm done, I'm done," he promised her a moment later. "Sorry."

"You're on thin ice," she warned him. "This entire conversation has put you in quite some danger."

"I had to do it," Harry shrugged. "But no more, promise. I won't ask about you and Malfoy again, I got it."

"Good," Romina said, half smiling. "Because me and him, that's not...that's never happening." She almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.

Harry wholeheartedly agreed with her and started off for the Great Hall.

Romina's lips would slowly purse as the conversation replayed in her head. When she felt fresh new heat, she shook her head. "No," she told herself, turning for the library, "Absolutely not." She made it her mission to solely focus on returning her books then meeting Arden.

~ 0 ~

After coming out of the library, Romina was in a rush to get back to the common room for a quick change of clothes. She didn't want to go anywhere in the uniform. She reached for the hair tie holding her messy bun together as she came down the stairs of the dungeon to get a head start on changing. She had just yanked the hair tie when she crashed into someone on the last step.

"You're making a habit out of this, Oswell!" Draco snapped. He rubbed his forehead after the stumbles of the crash.

"You have eyes too, you know! Use them!" Romina crinkled her nose when she felt the dull ache on her forehead as well.

"Good advice, you should use—oh, you finally took care of that hair!" Draco flapped a hand at Romina's cascading hair. It was back to its original length over her chest and without the blazing red ombre tips.

Romina had already gone through one explanation about her hair change and she really didn't want to confuse herself with her lies with more explanations. "Uh, H-Hermione did a...she did a thing with it." That's the lame excuse she was going for and she would stick with it. "Madame Pomfrey had a ride undoing all of the transfiguration spells I put on it. I am forbidden to touch my hair again for the next 10 years or so."

"Good," the word flew out of Draco. "You were getting annoying with that stuff? And you, know, that's probably what you get for letting Granger of all people touch your hair. Have you seen hers?"

Romina scowled. "This coming from someone who just discovered hair gel isn't a requirement."

Draco rolled his eyes at her. "So does this mean you're finally going back to normal now? Cos that's also been beyond annoying."

"Maybe, I don't know. All I know is that right now things don't feel as bad as they've felt all year. Which is why I need to go change to meet Arden at Hogsmeade." Romina moved around to get into the common room.

"Actually, Oswell, wait a second," Draco's call stopped her inches from the entry. "Before you go to Hogsmeade, meet me at the lake."

"What? What for?"

"You just gotta be there," he said, though he seemed slightly nervous which was very unlike him.

"What are you planning, Draco?" Romina's eyes narrowed on him. "Because I swear to God I am not in the mood for any tricks.

"When have I ever played a trick on you?"

Romina scoffed.

"Oswell, seriously, name one time where I tricked you. Just one." Draco crossed his arms and waited for an answer. Romina was all for giving him one...until she couldn't come up with one. Draco smirked. "Can't think of one?" He called with a smirk on his face.

"I can too think of one!" Romina snapped.

"Name one, then."

Romina scrunched her face. Three years with him and she couldn't think of any moment where he'd played a trick on her? That was...oddly true.

Draco knew exactly when she gave up and so with that, he called out to her again. "So I'll see you by the lake, then?"

"Yes," Romina huffed, rather put out that she had lost. Satisfied with her response, Draco went up the stairs. Romina headed inside the common room to change.

Half an hour later, because she also meant to start packing some of her things, Romina headed for the Black Lake. The heat was reaching unbearable levels so she hoped that whatever Draco had for her wouldn't take a long time.

Things were off to a bad start when Romina didn't see him. He wasn't there. I swear to god if there's a trick…

She took a deep breath in to calm herself. She didn't want to be angry, she felt like that was all she'd been this year. She looked around the area and saw several other students lounging about, including Rolf. Since Draco was nowhere to be seen, Romina decided to pass the time with Rolf.

"Hey Rolf," she greeted the boy. Unsurprisingly, he was near the waters admiring the creatures they could see near the surface.

"Hey," he said, glancing at her then doing a double-take at her. Romina chuckled. "You changed your hair again!"

"Yeah," she said, reaching to take hold of a curl. "Decided maybe it was time to go back to normal, you know?"

"Looks great," Rolf smiled at her. "Are you, uh, feeling better about things, then?"

Romina half sighed. "You know, everyone has been asking me that and so far, I'm not entirely sure that I am but...I feel like I could actually get there again. I mean, I'm not brooding anymore."

"That's something," Rolf said. "The start of a recovery, right?"

Romina nodded. "I don't think I'll ever be able to shake off my parents' legacy though. I'll always have to live with the fact my family is full of dark wizards who did terrible stuff and wherever I go, it's the first thing that people will think about when they see me."

Rolf seemed nervous all of a sudden. He stepped back from the lake, his hands sliding into his pockets. "I don't think that's necessarily true..."

Romina managed a small smile at him. "Rolf, you did the same thing when we first met." She saw the flush on Rolf's face and chuckled. "It's okay. You managed to get past it. I have to believe that others will to."

Rolf let out a heavy breath. "Romina, that's not...that's not exactly what happened."

Romina raised an eyebrow at him. "Then what did?" Rolf held onto his words for what seemed the longest. Romina watched him open and close his mouth several times. "I don't mean to be pushy, but I'm actually supposed to meet Draco in a bit." She looked around and saw that he still wasn't nearby. "Although if he just flaked on me, I'm going to kick his arse."

"Romina, I'm sorry," Rolf's apology was naturally strange to Romina. She didn't understand what he was supposed to be sorry about. "I...I've known about you for a lot longer than this year."

"Yeah, I bet you have," Romina nodded. "First year was absolute hell for me."

"I know, and I'm sorry for never saying anything."

Romina tilted her head at him. "Never saying anything about what?"

Rolf seemed to grow even more nervous. He licked his lips nervously and brought his hands out of his pockets. "I, um, you have to believe me. I was just shocked when I...when I saw you for the first time."

"Okay...that's...that's a fair sentiment, I guess?" Romina thought this was turning very strange, very fast, and she didn't want anything to ruin her cheerier mood, not even Rolf.

Rolf knew she wasn't understanding him and it was his fault for not saying it already. "I've been lying to you, Romina. Back on the first day I talked to you in our Care of Magical Creatures class, I lied to you."

"What do you mean?" Romina instinctively gulped. What if this was going to turn into a huge trick on her? Maybe Pansy was behind it?

"I didn't just happen to talk to you that day. It wasn't random at all. I picked my moment. A-after the library when we bumped into each other, I realized I couldn't just be at Hogwarts without talking to you."

Oh god if he tells me has a crush on me. It was perhaps a pretentious thing to think about but Romina was more afraid than anything at the idea of losing such a good friend in Rolf. She didn't want to think about having to let him down easily.

"See, cos, you...you're...you're not my friend," Rolf said, wincing afterwards when he realized how that sounded.

Romina, meanwhile, gasped. "We're not? Why...why not? I thought we were. Did I...did I do something—"

"No!" Rolf's eyes were no longer on her. They'd fallen to the ground and no matter how many times he attempted to meet her gaze again, he couldn't.

"Then why aren't we friends?" Romina asked frailly.

"It's not like that, Romina. I'm not explaining myself well. I fumble over my words a lot. Especially when I'm nervous." He chuckled to himself. "Apparently, I get that from my grandfather."

"Hm, when I get nervous I tend to get funny. I get more sarcastic." Romina said as a means of comfort and in hopes to lighten up the mood. She was dead afraid of what Rolf wanted to say to her.

"Yeah, you get that from your grandmother, actually."

"Huh?"

Rolf drew in a breath and with all the courage in the world, he looked up at Romina. "You get that from your grandmother, Abigail."

Romina's eyebrows furrowed. "What? How do you...who is that?"

"Your grandmother." Rolf swallowed incredibly hard. He might choke there and then. "And mine."

"What!? Rolf, what the hell are you talking about!?" Romina didn't understand one bit.

"What do you know of your mother's family, Romina?"

Romina didn't want to think about her mother, especially when Rolf was saying such odd things. "I don't know! Who cares! Why are you saying these things!?"

"Romina, it's important," Rolf insisted, and urgently too, "Your mother's family. Do you know any of them?"

Romina shook her head. "No. Uncle Lyonel doesn't really talk about my family on both sides. You can understand why, right?"

Rolf nodded. That made perfect sense and it's exactly what he heard at home all the time. "Of course. I just don't think it's fair that they're hiding part of your family who loves you."

Romina was tired of not understanding. She suddenly wished she was dealing with Draco and his mysterious nonsense rather than this. "Rolf, please just tell me what you're talking about."

Rolf nodded. He supposed he was dragging it out a bit. "Your mum, Elora, she's my grandparents' daughter. She's my aunt. You're...my cousin."

Romina froze in her spot. Her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. For a second, Rolf had to worry if she was breathing or not. She wasn't moving either.

"Romina?" He called her gently. "Romina…?"

Romina slowly came out of her stupor and when she did, she came out with a tiny laugh. "Sorry, it's just...for a moment I thought you said you and I were—"

"Cousins?" Rolf finished for her. He nodded. "Yeah, we are."

Romina stumbled back a step. "Rolf...that can't...that's not…"

"It is," Rolf promised. "Your mum is the eldest daughter of my grandparents, Abigail and Newt Scamander. My dad is your mother's brother — your uncle. My grandparents are your grandparents. I'm your cousin, Romina."

The noises that left Romina's mouth were the only thing she could muster at the moment. "No, no, because...because I would...I would've known, I...the albums I had, they..."

Rolf felt more guilty as Romina ventured into her past — what she knew of her past — and found that nothing made sense anymore. As happy as the news could be, it was also devastating because what she once knew was no more.

Eventually, her dark eyes flickered to Rolf, her reaction so strong that it was almost like she was devoid of it because she didn't know which emotion to lean on first. "Why didn't you say anything?" Her voice was a frail whisper. "You were here — this whole time you were here and you didn't say anything."

Rolf nodded with his head hanging low. "I know, I'm sorry. I-I knew about you but I had only seen a couple pictures of you until we started Hogwarts. They were baby pictures."

"And when we finally started Hogwarts? What then? You were ashamed of me too?" As angry as Romina wanted to be with him, she knew she couldn't single him out either. There were plenty of people who put distance between themselves and the Oswell family.

"No!" Rolf exclaimed. "I just...I didn't know what to do. At first, when I heard your name in the Sorting, I was shocked. I wrote to my parents and grandparents, telling them that you were here. You were going to Hogwarts with me."

"And then?" Romina's eyes were tearing up. That had been three years ago. Clearly, if they had wanted anything to do with her, they would have reached out to her.

"It's complicated, Romina..." sighed Rolf, but that wasn't enough for her.

"Complicated? They either wanted me in their lives or not!"

"They did! They do! They've always wanted you to be in their lives!"

"So why didn't they do anything!?" Romina practically shouted. Other students nearby began to look at them. "I have lived in the same house my whole life! I've been at the same school for three years! They knew where to find me and they didn't do it! That doesn't sound like a people who wanted me in their lives!"

"After the war, your uncle Lyonel took custody of you. My dad says that Lyonel didn't want you to grow up near wizards in general. Their family name was in ruins and he didn't want you to suffer."

Romina breathed raggedly now as she felt a sob trying to make it out of her throat. She didn't want to make a spectacle in front of the others, not when she had already given them so much content over the year to work with. She turned away from Rolf, dragging a hand through her hair, working on calming herself down.

"My uncle — he knew about this? He knew about the-them?"

"It appears so," Rolf nodded. "Grandma Abby tried to talk to him after you were picked up but Lyonel refused. I think he was so scared that he wanted to personally make sure you were okay."

"By not letting me be with my other family?" Romina smiled sourly at the grass. "I turned out great, didn't I?"

"You did," Rolf said whole-heartedly. Romina turned sideways to see him smiling softly. "You're awesome! You're cool, you're smart, you're so funny."

Romina wiped some of the tears on her cheeks. "Why, um, why didn't they write to me?" Her voice was no longer demanding but instead lamenting. "I've been at Hogwarts for years. They could have written me here."

"I don't know, you'd have to ask them yourself. But one thing I know for sure is how much grandma Abby and grandpa Newt love you. They've been following your track record here at Hogwarts."

"What?" A brief look of panic flashed across Romina's face. Her track record at Hogwarts was less than stellar and this year had to be the worst of all.

"They have some history with Dumbledore so they've been kept in the loop about you."

"What? They went to school here?"

"Just grandpa, but it's honestly a whole other story that I think they would like to tell you."

"I-I can't...this is too much," Romina shook her head. "My whole life, my uncle and aunt knew I had more family who actually wanted to see me and they never said anything?"

There was a time where Romina often asked them about their other family. She was young but she knew they weren't the only Oswell family members. There were other distant members somewhere out there, and that included Elora's family. But whenever she asked or simply touched on the subject, it was almost immediately changed. As time went on, and she admittedly grew bitter about her dark family's legacy, she stopped asking. That was her fault, she now saw. Maybe if she had asked more, if she had been more persistent, they would've cracked and told her about this other side of her family.

But they could have also told you when you started Hogwarts, she told herself. Yes, she could have been more persistent but at the end of the day she was just a kid and they were the adults. They had the responsibility to tell her there were others who wanted to see her. She had grandparents who were right there.

"Romina?" Rolf gently called. When he moved to touch her arm, she stepped away. He tried not to look hurt, knowing it was a proper reaction to everything he had dumped on her. His own parents warned him that if he decided to say anything, she could react this way.

"I...I think I need to sit down..." Romina said slowly, glancing around for an empty spot away from others. "Alone."

Rolf knew exactly what that meant. "Okay," he accepted it without protest. It was fair. "But just...believe me when I say I'm very happy to have met you. I'm only sorry that I was a coward who waited too long to tell you. It's no excuse, I know, but I was scared. I'll write you, if that's okay."

Romina gave him a silent nod. She really needed to be on her own right now. Rolf was reluctant to leave her, though, after the huge bomb he'd dropped on her.

"Scamander, what are you doing here?" Draco's voice carried over seconds before he approached the two. He eyed Rolf with a crinkled nose. "Shouldn't you be off petting some of the gamekeeper's pets?"

Rolf rolled his eyes at Draco. "Seriously not the time but if you're itching for a comment, I bet you're super delighted that the hippogriff escaped, huh?"

The pleasantry was written all over Draco's face at the mention.

"Don't," came Romina's quiet whisper just as his mouth opened. "I just — I really don't want to hear it this time."

"What did I miss?" Draco's eyes shifted between her and Rolf, both curious and admittedly slightly put out. What the hell did Rolf do now?

Romina decided to turn away from the two and head to an empty tree where she could sit and maybe sulk a little bit. Rolf thought it was his time to go and when he did leave, Draco blocked his way.

"What are you up to, Scamander?" He frowned.

"Sod off, Malfoy! I'm not in the mood!" Rolf went to leave but Draco blocked his way again. "What do you care what's going on now? We've known each other for ever and this is probably the longest conversation we've had."

"Don't get it confused, I'm only interested because an hour ago, Oswell was up and grinning again and now suddenly she looks like she's about to throw herself into the lake. What gives?"

"If you're genuinely that interested, go ask her," Rolf said, figuring Romina could use anyone, even him, to vent. "Would do you some good to care about someone else rather than yourself for 10 minutes." He pushed past Draco and went on his way.

As irritated as Draco was, and he was, his curiosity won the best of him and he went to find Romina. She had found herself a spot on the ground, against a tree, and was staring blankly ahead.

"Okay, Oswell, what's the deal now? I thought you said you were done sobbing?"

Romina's eyes flickered from the lake up to him and flashed with anger. "Do I look like I'm shedding a tear to you?" she snapped.

"I don't know, I'm gonna wait it out 5 minutes and see."

"Eugh, go away!" She grabbed a rock from the ground and threw it at him.

"Hey!" He blocked his face with an old book in his hands. "Watch it! I don't need this, you know?"

"Then go away!"

"I could — and would — but I brought you something." Draco held out the book to her.

"I don't need your gifts."

"Would you take a look at the damn thing first?" Draco dropped the book on her lap and crossed his arms. "Look at it," he ordered her again.

Romina thought about the perfect moment she could chuck it at his face...until she saw the cover. "This is the yearbook Parkinson had..." she mumbled. It was the same yearbook where Elora and Caplan were pictured in one of their Hogwarts years. "Why do you have it?"

"I asked Parkinson to see it and she happily gave it to me. Didn't even ask me why I would want it."

Romina scoffed. "Are you really that shocked, though? You can see the humongous crush she has on you from a kilometer away."

"I could say the same thing about Angel."

Romina's head snapped up at Draco. They met each other's looks and upheld it until they both, ironically, rolled their eyes.

"Anyways," Draco went on, "I thought you might want to look at it, hold it, throw it away...or if you're feeling brave, burning it."

Romina curiously lifted an eyebrow at him. "What are you going to do when Parkinson eventually asks you for her book back?"

Draco slid his hands into his pockets then pulled them out. "Oh no, I must have misplaced it." He shrugged.

Romina couldn't help the laugh that broke out from her. "She'll kill you..."

"You just said she's hopelessly in love with me."

"That is not what I said."

"But it's still true."

Romina would have loved to argue but it was very true. Plus, she didn't want to spend time talking about Pansy's unfortunate love life. "Thank you..." She gripped the book in her hands, gazing at its cover. If you open it, you might find your supposed aunt and uncle. She felt knots in her stomach.

"Merlin, Oswell, what the fuck is it now!?" Draco couldn't stand watching Romina anymore. "I will take that book from you right now if you don't tell me!"

Romina thought about throwing the book at him again. She glared at him but in that moment, she couldn't muster that annoyance she usually did it with. "Why didn't you want me to know who Rolf was?"

"Huh?" Draco made a face. Of all the things Romina could have asked, that certainly wasn't what he thought it would be. "What are you going on about now?"

"Listen to me and just answer the question! Back at the library when I bumped into him, you didn't want me to know who he was. Why?"

"I don't—"

"Was it because you knew who he was?"

"Obviously I know who he is—"

"No, I meant because you knew that he was my bloody cousin!?"

"I'm sorry — what!?" Draco's eyes had widened dramatically.

Romina paused her interrogation to gauge his reaction. He seemed genuinely surprised with her right now. Maybe he hadn't known...

"Rolf is your cousin?" The news was too much not to ask more about. "When the hell did he tell you that?"

"Right now!" Romina gestured down to the lake. "Literally 5 minutes ago! Just told me the whole story! Elora is his father's sister, making us cousins!"

Draco stood like a statue for several minutes; the only things moving were his eyes and eyebrows as he thought about the idea. His face was the same one he made whenever she (or Arden) started talking about muggle-related stuff.

"You...you really didn't know?" Her question, albeit soft, still pulled a glare from him.

"No!" he snapped. "Why the hell would I know?"

"I don't know, you seem to always know everything around here—"

"I'm well educated, not a historian! I don't know every fucking member of every family, you know!"

Romina deadpanned him. "You want me to throw you the book?"

"Oh, calm yourself. The problem's not with me, is it? It's with the rest of the world, apparently."

Romina leaned back against the tree. No, her plan was not to be angry at the world again. She found the idea very tiresome. "So...you really had no idea? I mean, no one in your circle knows this?"

"Marriage amongst the sacred 30 is a funny thing..." Draco came over beside Romina and sat down next to her.

"Sacred 30?" Romina couldn't help her face, but it was a rather amusing sight for Draco.

"You are so painfully behind, Oswell. I know for a fact I told you about the Sacred 30 during our correspondence letters two summers ago. The Sacred 30 are the only remaining pureblood families in the wizarding community."

"Honestly, when you started writing essays on that part, I skimmed," Romina said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Draco rolled his eyes; he wasn't going to waste time being surprised. It sounded like something she would do. "The point I was trying to get to is that the way marriage works usually ends up with your maiden name being forgotten. Eventually, enough time passes and then it really is forgotten. I imagine that's what happened with the Scamander family. That and the fact your mother—"

"Not my mother," warned Romina. "Do not call her that. She isn't. Her name's Elora."

"Fine, Elora married into the Oswell family and that became her name. I imagine once she became a Death Eater, she really made a point to shed her maiden name and anything with it. The Scamanders are regarded as war heroes."

"Why?" Romina shifted on the ground to face Draco. "Rolf mentioned it too but he said...well it doesn't matter. I thought they were just authors and clothing designers."

"The war before the one with you-know-who. Dumbledore fought in it."

"Ooh," Romina made the connection now. "They all fought together?" Draco nodded. "That's how they know each other then."

"Like veterans," said Romina. "And Dumbledore never even alluded to it too..."

"Anyways, congrats, I guess? People are going to love this."

Romina stiffened as a familiar dread began to fall on her shoulders. "Again? I don't — if I have to go through what I did this year all over again, then I would rather not do anything about this! I would rather not meet anyone either!"

"And yet somehow I don't believe that," said Draco, glancing at her with a knowing smile despite her scowl. "Don't give me that look. You just found out you have more family and you're seriously going to tell me that you're not the least bit curious to meet them?"

"I don't know," Romina huffed and leaned back on the tree, crossing her arms. "If they had wanted to meet me before, they would've done it. My uncle tried to stop them but...I mean...if you really want something, why would you stop?"

"Maybe in fairy tales, things might have gone in that direction, but in this life? Things are not the way it seems and the quicker you accept that, the easier your life will be."

"What the hell would you do, then? If you were in my spot, what would you do?"

Draco was quiet for a few minutes. Romina was just waiting for him to come out with some smartass response about the whole thing.

"I wouldn't do a damn thing," he retorted. Romina looked at him suspiciously. "Why would I? I don't need anything from them."

"You wouldn't need anything from them?" repeated Romina who then scoffed. "Seriously?"

"What?" shrugged Draco. "If they didn't want to see me, then why the hell would I give them my time of day?"

"But — what about the questions you have? Because trust me, there would be some questions!"

Draco scoffed. "I wouldn't have any!"

"Yes you would!"

"No, I wouldn't."

Romina got more worked up the more Draco denied what she swore was true. "Yes, you would!" she finally snapped and pulled herself up from the ground. She glared down at Draco. "Because they are your family whom you just found out about after 13 years of bloody secrets! You would want to meet them! You would want them to tell you why didn't they look harder for you? Why did they give up on you!?"

Draco's expression remained cool under Romina's hard glare. Little by little, a smirk started worming across his face. "Well, then I guess I know your summer plans, don't I?"

It took Romina another moment to realize what he had done. She let out a heavy breath, mentally trying to decide whether to strangle him or appreciate his gesture. It was a very tough decision.

Draco started getting up and he picked up the yearbook off the ground. "You're welcome," he said as he held the book out to Romina.

She was beyond dumbfounded in the end and the more she thought about it, the more flushed she got. "I..." She was at a loss for words.

"You're tired," Draco said, and grabbed her hand to place the book on. "I suggest you go back to your dorm and just...stop thinking about it. At least for 10 minutes. After that, things don't seem as bad anymore."

Romina got the faint feeling that he spoke from direct experience. If it was, then it would be the first time Draco talked about himself in a real way. Not the showing off type of stuff he usually did. "Thank you," she whispered to him.

Draco nodded at her. He started leaving when Romina suddenly called him again.

"Could you...could you not tell anyone about this?" she nervously asked. "I'm not quite ready for people to...find out more about me again."

"Whatever you want." Draco flashed her a smile and went on his way. He missed the light smile that crossed Romina's face.

A/N:

Been waiting to drop that one! Romina is part of the Scamander family! And her grandmother is another of my OCs, Abigail, and obviously a Fantastic Beast oc but it's still in the drafts! But anyways, happy ending for book 3! Book 4 is where the real fun/drama starts ;)

[lexusiswriting]

A love you deserve (Ricky Olson) - Part 11 of ?

Hi guys!

Enjoy! <3

Warnings: none.

Tags: @multifandomcrackhead, @nicelittlenightmares, @roll-tide-babe89, @skulliecadaver-blog, @21-century-tae, @melissa-anderson, @abiomens, @w743, @insanitywulf, @awkwardalex, @philomenie

Requests: OPEN.

________________________________

Ricky’s point of view

It was almost 8 pm and I had 5 minutes left to get to Lexus’s house. Corey’s words were repeating over and over in my mind, “her heart is still full of you”. All the excitement I had before was now gone. I ruined her marriage, her family, her everything. Now, I was afraid I would ruin her life even more if I would do something stupid again.

Before deciding what would be the best next move, I had a plan. I want to hear her perspective on this. Maybe Corey wasn’t right and she really had different reasons to divorce. Even though it was clearly who was the one suffering, maybe there was something more to the story that he actually didn’t know about.

_____________________________________

Lexus’s point of view

I heard Ricky’s car in the driveway, and I looked in the mirror one last time. Everything seemed fine, from make-up to the dress. I decided to wear something casual, as this was a dinner between friends and nothing more. After I got my bag, I got out of the house.

My heart was going crazy, thinking anyone could hear its beatings. After he left my office earlier, I only thought about what the future may hold. Maybe he was not the same man I fell in love with, and that would make things easier. But what if he still is? What if he’ll make me fall for him even harder? Now it wasn’t just about me. I had to consider my daughter, Blaire, as well.

In the car, I was greeted by a not-so-happy Ricky. He had a little forced smile on his face.

“You’re absolutely gorgeous. These are for you.”

He reached his hand on the backseat to get something. It was a beautiful bouquet of red roses, my favourite type of flower.

“It’s really beautiful. But I thought this is not a date.”

“So, every time you receive flowers on your birthday from friends, you consider you are going on a date with them?”

“Touché.”

A little laugh escaped from his lips, being the only time his face lighted up for a little bit. Neither of us said anything else while we were on the way to the restaurant.

Only after we got inside, I decided to break the ice.

“Are you okay, Ricky? You barely said anything.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about me. What would you like to eat?”

We both ordered our meals, having some wine as well. I could feel how stressed he was, but I did not know what to do or how to get the answers out of his mouth. The thing that worried me the most was that he avoided looking me in the eyes.

“Look, if you don’t feel okay, or you’ve changed your mind, it’s fine. Just tell me, and after we eat, we can forget this night ever happened.”

“It’s complicated. The whole situation.”

“What do you mean? Please talk to me.”

“Corey and I met today, and he had some interesting things to say.”

My hands were shaking at this point. I was prepared if he had said this was a mistake, but I did not think this could happen.

“And what did he say exactly?”

“That you never loved him, and now you’re divorcing him because you are still in love with me.”

What a nice conversation I will have with Corey the next time I see him. All I wanted now was to get up and go home.

“Look, Lexus, the reason why I wanted to see you tonight was to see if I still have a chance to make things right. After hearing this, I don’t know if it’s a good idea. I do still want you so much in my life, but not at the cost of someone else’s happiness.”

“You know me, Ricky. Do you really think I would have married someone if I didn’t feel anything for that person? Or having a child?”

“That’s why I don’t know who I should trust. While he was talking about you, I could see the pain in his eyes. You had none.”

“Have you asked yourself why? While we were in a relationship, everything was perfect. When he proposed, I couldn’t contain how happy I was. But after Blaire was born, he became a different man. He refused to stay too much at home, even though I needed his help. At some point he made me look like a bad person, saying I should give up on the studio to raise our daughter, saying I was a bad mother. I refused to obey. The night when he came drunk home and almost hit me was the point where I decided to divorce. But thank you for believing him without hearing my side as well.”

____________________________________________

Ricky’s point of view

How could you respond to something like that? I was almost 100% sure she would agree to his story, with some little adjustments. Now it was even more complicated. Would he actually be violent? If that turned out to be true, I would regret I didn’t punch him in the face when I had the chance.

“I’m sorry, Lexus… I never thought he would…”

“Of course you didn’t. Everyone sees Corey as a God. But have you ever thought his story was just a strategy? He knows what happened between us, Ricky. Maybe it was his way to get into your head so you could back off. Before this conversation, I would have said that you had all the chances in the world to make things right. But now, I’m not that sure anymore.”

“You have all the right to hate me right now. All I tried was to find the full story, to know what happened.”

“And now that you know, it feels like you don’t know who to believe. I never expected that from you. I’m sorry, but I’m going home.”

“No, please. Let’s just change the subject and …”

“I said I’m going home. Before I’ll do something I will regret my whole life.”

“At least let me take you home.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get a taxi.”

While she got all her stuff, I saw tears forming in her eyes. She left without saying anything else. I fucked up really bad for the second time.

[greatwyrmgold]

I'm dangerously close to figuring out an Oshi no Ko/Parahumans crossover fic idea.

In this AU, Ai Hoshino is a young Dauntless-class parahuman—someone with powers that could theoretically make her a Triumvirate-tier heavy hitter one day, if she lives long enough. But unlike Dauntless, her powers also have the potential to turn into a Big Problem. (My first thought is a Master or drone-Tinker power that runs the risk of being exponential-growth self-replication if Ai goes rogue. My second thought is some kind of Master/Trump thing.)

So Ai is pressured into being a superhero—and not just any superhero, but an ideal superhero, someone so perfect that nobody could imagine her turning into a villain. Not just someone who fights Endbringers and supervillains to protect people, but a perfectly virtuous girl, a shining beacon to all (para)humanity.

Step 3: ???

Anyways, now Ai is pregnant. As per OnK's premise, the twins are reincarnations of two of Ai's fans, and retain their memories. Sarina's backstory doesn't really need to change; she's a sick/disabled little girl who wishes she could be a superhero. Having Dr. Goro be someone Ai rescued (and then became a big fan of) seems like a sensible way to adapt the original story to the AU.

Figuring out step 3 is going to be a lot easier once we learn more about Ai's relationship with the twins' dad, which we doubtless will in the next few chapters. So I'll channel this muse/gremlin into thinking about trigger events.

Oshi no Ko, like many manga/anime series, takes place in Japan. In Earth Bet, Japan isn't doing very well. Kyushu was drowned and crushed by hydrokinetically-generated waves, which also wrecked the rest of coastal Japan, also known as Japan. So idea 1: Stranded by floodwaters.

Without going into a tangent, Ai's mother Ayumi was jealous of and abusive to her daughter. (She insists that she wasn't abusive, and she probably believes that, but the things she admits to doing sound pretty abusive.) Whether out of guilt for how she treated Ai or to stop Ai's beauty from distracting her boyfriend*, Ayumi abandoned Ai in an orphanage.

All of that is core to canon!Ai's trauma, her desperation to love and be loved, her inability to recognize either. Obviously the entertainment industry's treatment of her didn't help, but problems start at the root. So idea 2: Abandonment by parental figures.

*Oh yeah, Ayumi's boyfriend was infatuated with Ai. I'm a bit fuzzy on the timeline here, but Ai had to be pretty f*ing young at that point. Motivations and methods aside, getting Ai away from him was probably good.

So Ai, Ayumi, and Ayumi's nameless boyfriend end up stranded by Leviathan's floodwaters. At some point, they have a way to escape, and Ai is lead to believe all three of them will escape, but at the last minute the adults betray her.

Maybe they all build a raft and gather supplies in the aftermath, the adults say they'll leave in the morning once they've rested, and then they abandon her in the night. Maybe during the fight a flying cape notices them, and Ayumi sends Ai indoors to grab something before the cape gets close enough to see that there's a child with them, to make sure both she and her boyfriend get rescued. Something along those lines.

.

Let's start working backwards. Ai needs to be a dangerously powerful cape, after all. The Master element is pretty self-evident; we don't have official guidelines for Master triggers, but Ai's hangups around love and family, would make it easy to justify having the Master minions reproduce. But a mere Nilbog clone isn't quite what we're looking for, now is it? Ai needs a Trump aspect, too.

The Trump document has guidelines on Trump trigger events. Categories 6 and 9 seem obviously relevant—6 because Leviathan turned the whole area into a new sea, 9 because the physical crisis makes it impossible to ignore filial problems which Ai had previously ignored quite well. So I guess that's a Trump power with an absolute swarm of minions?

Category 3 (copy/borrow/steal powers) would be easy to make into a Dauntless-class power. Like, she produces fairies which parahuman abilities can imprint on, letting it do something smaller but similar. (Or letting Ai do that thing. Or something.) And then Ai can merge/breed fairies to either make stronger versions of the same power or to mix them or something. There are a bunch of options.

However, category 3 guidelines require some kind of ongoing relationship with powers or a parahuman. (The examples given are kidnapping and manipulation by an emotion-controlling Master and...basically Syndrome if Mr. Incredible acted like he'd accept Buddy as a sidekick instead of the opposite.) That's a bit tricky to work into the trigger.

Might be easier if Ai's mom was a D-tier cape, though. Maybe a low-level Mover who works as a discreet courier. Someone with the power to save Ai, who should want to save her, who promises to save her after getting the boyfriend to safety. Who abandons her.

(Someone whose powers have as much influence on Ai's as Carol's do on Amy's.)

Alright, that's enough worrying about it for now. Maybe this idea will get kicked off the back burner next OnK chapter.

[writersblog20]

Let’s hide together

Chris Evans x reader

Summary: When the world becomes too much, Chris helps you escape by a fort of blankets and some Disney movies

Warnings: age-gap, anxiety, depression, panic attack, hints of suicidal thoughts but more if you squint,

Words: 3.1K

A/N: wow we just hit 1K followers!🎉🎉 thank you all for supporting me and/or enjoying my stories💞

Let’s hide together

Chris stayed at your house for a while. One of your family members asked you if you’d mind if he’d stayed for a while. You were a huge fan so for obvious reasons you didn’t mind at all. You developed a huge crush on Chris but always thought that he never saw much in you besides a little sister or whatever. Besides, there was a age-gap. Not that you minded it but maybe he would.

Anyhow, he stayed with you for a while, because set was closer, he was friends with some family members, who worked in the movie industry as well and especially on this movie.

You were really shy around Chris. Not that you wanted to be but you felt sort of intimidated by him. Not that there was any reason for that but you liked him so much that you felt flustered every time he talked to you or whatever. Chris knew that you weren’t feeling so well though. He could tell but also because you let out some snippets about it but he never really knew how bad it was until your mom talked about it with him.

She was waiting for you to come home after one of your many appointments lately. You were extremely busy with rearranging and stuff. Chris was shocked to learn how bad you were really doing. You had a great façade, he had to give you that. You eyed really strong to a lot of people in the moments you were caving in and nobody would know. it wasn’t that you did it on purpose but it was an mechanism to hold yourself up.

You came home and felt absolutely wrecked, like you just been hit with a bus, who went back and forth, only mentally. All you wanted to do was blow this whole thing off, tell everyone it was a joke and hide from the world. You had more peace in suffering alone and acting like you were okay then you have now.

You saw your mom and Chris talking and stopped when you came in the room. “Hey how did it go? I brought you dinner.” Your mom said. “Thanks and I don’t want to talk about it.” she nodded but you knew she wasn’t going to let it go, which irritated you to no end.

“Why don’t you want to talk about it?” she asked. Chris felt the tension and left the room for a minute, giving you a soft smile. “Because I don’t want to. I’m tired, still trying to comprehend and as simple as it could be, don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“Yes but talking….” You cut her off. “I will when I want to and now is clearly not the time. Stop it.” you told her angry and irritated but instantly felt bad. “Look I’m sorry I just don’t want to talk about it right now okay? Thank you for dinner though.” She nodded “I’m sorry I pushed you, I shouldn’t have. Call me when you feel like okay?” you nodded and gave you a kiss on your head before leaving.

You let yourself fall on the couch and buried your face in your hands. You felt the tears prickle and wanted to escape so badly that it all started to hurt physically. You were extremely frustrated and felt like there was no release for it, bubbling it all up.

Chris came down again and saw you sitting there on the couch. His heart broke for you as he could feel the heaviness in the room. He looked around a little and walked up to you. one thing was pretty clear and that was that you didn’t want to talk about it.

You felt the couch dip a little besides you. You looked besides you and saw Chris smiling softly at you. You tried to smile back but it felt impossible. You wiped away the tears but they instantly got replaced with new ones. He sat at a respectful distance but still placed his hand on your back to comfort you a little.

“I’m sorry that you feel like this sweetheart.” His voice so incredibly calm and soothing that it calmed you down in some sort of way. The tears started to flow more “I just want it all to stop Chris. I don’t want to do any of it anymore. I know it’s for the best at the end but I just want to be completely left alone right now. I want to leave everything behind, live somewhere else and start over. Like some cottage in the woods where no other people are. I just want it to end, it hurts so bad.” You said between sobs, completely breaking down right now.

He had a look of pain on his face and sat closer to you so he could pull you into a hug. He leaned back against the couch and held you, not saying a word but just let you cry. He never saw you cry so he was happy that you finally were able to cry and release at least some pressure from your heavy heart.

“I know baby, I know. It’s okay, let it out.” He shushed you a little after a while. His shirt was wet from your tears and you held onto him with clinched fists. He kept rubbing your back and went with his other hand over your head.  “I’m already tired of treatment and talking and the therapy hasn’t even started yet.” You felt hopeless right now.

Chris tightened his grip on you in response. He noticed that your breathing became rapid and your heartbeat was at a very fast pace. “Baby, baby, look at me. Try to breathe with me.” You knew there was a panic attack around the corner. You tried to stand up but felt dizzy. Chris stood up as well and prevented you from almost falling over.

“Are you having a panic attack?” Chris asked and you nodded, breathing becoming more rapid. Chris pulled you in his arms again. “Let me try to help you okay?” you nodded but felt in some sort of blackout. “Sweetheart, I need you to listen to me, okay can you do that for me?” he asked you calmly.

You nodded “This is not life threatening, you’re not going to die. Try not to fight it, I’m right here with you and I’ll promise you’ll be okay.” Chris sat down and pulled you softly and carefully along with him. You sat on his lap, face to face and you crossed your legs automatically around him. He gently cupped your cheeks. “Can you find a focus object for me sweetheart?” he asked you as he made deep eye contact with you.

You looked over at Chris’s shoulder and found a candle. “found something?” he asked you as he scanned your features. “Yes” you croaked out and he got a soft smile on his lips, hearing you speak “Can you describe it to me?” You start to describe the candle and before you knew it your panic attack slowed down.

“There you go sweetheart, you’re doing so well.” he told you and all of a sudden you got hyperfixated on Chris. You felt his hands on your thighs and felt flustered again. One hand let go of your thigh and found your cheek so you would look at him. You were sure that he could feel the heat radiating from your cheek. You were in his lap for god’s sake.

You awkwardly got off his lap and sat down next to him. He still placed his hand on your back. “Thank you.” you said shyly. He gave you a soft smile “You don’t have to thank me. I’m glad I could help.” You nodded and felt embarrassed, which he probably noticed.

“I have a very good book, which I think you might like.” He said all of a sudden, taking you by surprise and you looked at him. “Why don’t you take a nice hot bath and read one chapter and when you’re done, you tell me what you’ve read mhm?” you thought about it and it actually sounded like a good idea. “Okay, you said softly and he gave you a smile that made your heart flutter.

He got up to take the book and handed it to you. You walked upstairs and drew a bath and started reading it. Chris was right, you started to really like this book and found some sort of escape in it. After a while you got out and found your hoodie, blanket and put it on.

You did some skin care routine and walked down the stairs, still reading the book. Chris smiled when he saw you.

“After dinner, I got a little surprise for you.” it peaked your interest and you saw that he already made the table so you can have dinner. “Thank you Chris.” You told him again and he shook his head with a smile “You really don’t have to thank me sweetheart.” You smiled shyly and he noticed.

Chris knew about your little crush even though you thought you were subtle, he could tell. He found it adorable and liked you as well, more than you could ever know. Every time you got shy around him, his heart did flips in his chest.

Chris sat down opposite of you and asked you about the book. It got you out of the shyness and more into excitement and started talking passionately. Chris couldn’t wipe the smile off his face even if he wanted to.

He started to ask about your favorite movies since this was the most you’ve ever spoke to him and he loved every minute of it. You told him about your favorite movies and he instantly got more excited as his feelings grew for you.

You told him that your favorite movies were Shrek and Monster inc. He told you about his passion about Disney as well and talked more about it and about Disneyworld “I can take you some time if you’d like.” He told you with a slight grin. You looked up at him and a little excited. “Really?” you asked him and he chuckled “Yeah, it will be fun! I promise you. You can hang out at my place then. I have a pool.” He told you the last sentence playfully.

“We’ll have a great time. I can show you around and stuff. I think you’re gonna love it.” you smiled thinking about it. “I would actually love it.” he mirrored your smile “Then that’s settled. We can go when I have my break from shooting. That would be in two weeks. And then you can leave here for a while as well. See it as a vacation.” He told you and you nodded smiling.

You told him about an attraction park here and he smiled as he saw your enthusiasm. “Seems like you’ve got a lot to show me.” he told you and you felt shy again. “I think you’re going to like it.” you told him softly and he smiled “I’m sure of it. I can’t wait for you to show me.”

You smiled shyly and stood up to clean the table. Chris helped you and it was clean in no time. “I have that surprise remember?” he asked you cheekily. You looked at him and made immediate eye contact. You felt yourself heat up by the intense eye contact like he had you under his spell.

His eyes softened at you and held out his hand for you to take as he gave you a soft smile. You looked at his hand, which was huge compared to yours but took it. He led you upstairs and you were frowned a little but was still interested.

“okay, I’m going to stand behind you and put my hands over your eyes so you don’t take a peek.” You giggled feeling shy. He led you into a room and you heard close to your ear “Ready sweetheart?” you felt goosebumps rising on your skin from the close proximity Chris was. You nodded and he took his hand away from your eyes.

You blinked a few times but saw that he took a lot of blankets and made a huge fort out of it. There were fairy lights and the ‘tent’ was tucked behind the tv in Chris’s bedroom. So his whole bed became a tent, everything was covered and hidden by blankets.

You looked at Chris with disbelieve and he gave you a warm smile “Want to hide from the world with me?” he asked you softly and you felt your heart melt. Tears prickled in your eyes and you automatically placed your arms tightly around Chris in a hug. He smiled “I take this as a sign that you like it?” he asked you and you nodded.

He saw the tears fall from your cheeks and he wiped them away with his thumbs. “After you princess.” He told you once you got out of the hug. He held up the blanket so you could crawl in.

You immediately felt calm, protected and safe from the cruel world around you. It was like you finally found release and you could breathe again.

Chris climbed in and saw that the tears were still falling. He sat down next to you and wiped them away again. “So you really like it?” he asked you softly and you nodded “I haven’t felt this safe and protected and calm since I can actually remember. This feels like I can finally breathe again.” He gave you a sad smile and pulled you into a hug.

“I will leave this up for as long as you want to. Make this your small little getaway when everything feels too much.” You hugged him back and he kissed the top of your head. “I can’t thank you enough Chris, really this means the world to me.”

He smiled again, got you out of the hug and cupped your cheeks. His smile was radiating “Honey, like I said you really don’t have to thank me. It’s my pleasure and I’m glad I can help.” You looked into his eyes and you didn’t know what came over you but you placed your lips on his, taking him by surprise.

He didn’t move it was like he was froze so you quickly pulled back. “I am so sorry, I didn’t know what came over me, I…” all of a sudden you were caught off guard as he placed his lips on yours again. He gave you a second to comprehend before he slowly started to move. You felt his tongue against your lips and you quickly gave him access. He cupped your cheek and pulled you closer to him.

You sat down on your knees and moved over to his lap and sat down while Chris held your waist to help you climb on. You felt his beard slightly scrape against your chin but loved every minute of it as the euphoria and butterflies came up. Your hand moving slightly through his hair, which was extremely soft. His fingers kneaded in your waist and his lips found your neck as you placed your arms around his shoulders.

Your lips found each other again and after a heated make out session you pulled back for air. You both looked at each other in surprise but also adoration. He cupped your cheek again “I’ve liked you since the beginning Y/N, and I keep falling for you every day.” You smiled shyly, not able to believe what just happened and what still was happening.

“I liked you from the beginning too Chris. And I’m really in love.” You said embarrassed. Chris smiled sweetly at you as he placed a piece of hair behind your ear and softly kissed the tip of your nose. “so what now?” you asked him carefully since you’ve had bad experienced after you confessed your feelings.

He chuckled softly “Well, if you’d like it and of course want to. I’d like to have a relationship with you. and of course we’ll take it as slow as you want to.” He told you with a soft smile which you immediately returned “I’d like that.” He smiled and you both chuckled a little before he kissed you again.

You got off of his lap and laid down next to him. “So what movie do you want to watch? Shrek sounded like a great idea!” he told you and you chuckled “Yeah let’s watch that one.” He gave you a kiss on the top of your head before putting Netflix on.

When the movie started he placed a blanket over the two of you and pulled you closer to him. You rested your head on his shoulder and you let your arm rest on his chest. His arm was around you and drew circles on your back while his other hand held yours. He got it off his chest for a second and brought it to his lips to place a kiss on the back of it.

You both got more comfortable and disappeared together in the world of Shrek. He tucked you closer so know and then or nuzzled his nose in your hair, placing kisses on your forehead and general soft touches here and there.

You felt your eyes become heavy and Chris noticed it. He knew you were in desperate need of some restful sleep without nightmares and he hoped he could provide that for you by making you feel so calm, secure, protected, safe and loved for.

He knew this was going to be a long tough road but he would be by your side with everything. He smiled softly at you as he saw how you tried to fight your heavy eyes. “Get some rest baby. You deserve it. I won’t go anywhere, I’ll be right here when you wake up.” he told you and kissed the top of your head again but letting his lips linger there for a second.

He noticed earlier how calm you became from him playing with your hair or just massaging your head so he did that again to help you give in to some much needed sleep. And it worked because you were out cold. He smiled and put the tv out and some lights, never letting go off you.

Once everything was out he got comfortable and looked at you for a little while with a soft, loving smile on your face. His other hand still making circles on your back before he tucked your head underneath his chin and closed his own eyes, knowing you were finally safe in his arms and not alone anymore.

Taglist: @rogersdrysdalebarber @patzammit

[jeepersblake]

The redhead gave a grin at the mention of the black cat, a slight nod of her head too. “Exactly. Now, see, the Black Cat has style. But the cat burglar I dealt with? Puh-lease. Absolute style disaster.” There weren’t many criminals who were stylish though, in her humble opinion. The whole doing ‘bad things’ stuff probably affected her opinion.

A laugh escaped her, giving an amused smile. What WAS with the animal suits? “Yeah, I don’t think it’s a question I want to be thinking about either. Sometimes it’s just best not to know.” The redhead brushed her hair behind her ear, smile still in place. “Bingo. Pretty much. Guy had a few motives - money is always the biggest one I’ve found. So cliche. But it is a problem for people.” Course, she was one to talk. She dealt with and handled her own finances separate from the family fortune these days - but she at least had a safety net. Not everyone did. “I have a long list of these stories. Which… I’m not sure if that makes me look good or not.”

Ah, so definitely a frequent customer around here. Kinda nice to know actually.

She grinned, amused glint in her eyes. “Good company? Is that your opinion? Who’s told you that before?” But Daph nodded, adding, “One macchiato coming up! And thanks! Won’t be a moment.”

Easy enough to remember, anyways. And only one person ahead of her - so hardly a wait. She glanced towards him, still a little amused, before turning away to place the order. (Her last minute order a vanilla latte because how could she resist some syrup?) This really wasn’t what she was expecting, but Daph liked to go with the flow anyways. And always interesting to chat to new people. She was probably sidling in on his personal time (and yeah, she knew busy working people needed their time alone) but he was stuck with her now. She’d just make not to ask too many difficult questions.

Thanking the barista, she grabbed their drinks and headed to the booth. “Nice table, getting a booth can be rare.” Drinks onto the table, she slid into the booth before taking a sip of her drink. “This is definitely needed. And the good company is always appreciated. Maybe I can even convert you to my column.”

Maybe some years ago, he'd have been more skeptical about the brand of crazy the city could conjure. Maybe a decade in the past, just maybe, because in the last few years the city had changed their definition of normalcy, and over the years Harry had long accepted it. If his days now included having coffee with mystery reporters and his nights were a matter of chasing down vigilantes, then so be it: Oscorp was still stranger than both.

"A cat-dressed cat burglar." He considered. "I'm still fonder of the Black Cat." He mentioned. "She only takes the motive. Still, it's still classier than some of the villains we see around these days." He pointed out. "Perhaps not so much the monkey suit." He conceded, amused enough. "Sometimes I do wonder what's with the animal suits, then I realize maybe I don't want to know." He hummed. "Let me guess, an attempt to devalue the movie set?"

Intriguing mysteries, like her name, and his smile only widened as she teased the secret, then revealed it. Not an unfamiliar family name, but he hadn't recognized her. He'd definitely keep an eye out for her, in the future.

As she next spoke, however, he pretended to consider it, then reach his choice soon enough.

"I can't be here and pass on a macchiato." He admitted. "This said, I'm glad. I've been known to be good company." He went on, smiling and greeting some of the servers with a small gesture. "I'll get us a table." He offered, soon afterwards. If they were in luck, and it seemed to be the case, some of the booths further from the door would be free, and those were some of the more spacious areas, as well as the most private ones.

[radiant-reid]

Something New

Summary: When his friend with benefits needs a date, Spencer agrees to play along before their relationship dramatically changes when she needs him emotionally.

Hi! Could you make a fic ab spencer & reader being fwb and reader needs a date to something important so she takes spencer w her and they have a cute lil moment after the event? can you do a fic inspired by “nothing new” by taylor swift

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 

Content Warning: smutty (like R18 level) | Implied homophobia | Alcohol consumption | Mommy issues | Internalized misogyny This didn't start out as sad, but it kind of is

Word Count: 5.4k

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"Fuck!" Y/n groaned in a far different tone than the one she had been using for the previous 15 minutes. She threw her head back at the sudden interruption of her moment of pleasure, irritated beyond belief.

Of course, as soon as Spencer's dick was in her, the phone just had to ring. Could a call really be so important that it had to disrupt the first alone time they'd had together in a week?

Sex on cases was strictly forbidden unless one of them desperately needed it, which resulted in an endless amount of ridiculing from the other. Plus, when their friends with benefits relationship only existed in DC, they could escape with less teasing from the team. No one could really prove it, but they knew there was something between them. Four months and they couldn't find anything more than circumstantial evidence.

"Really? Do you have to take it?" Spencer complained, looking up at her with pleading eyes, so his whole throat was on display. Always such a whore. It was also why he kept his fingers wrapped around her thighs, purposefully drawing her attention to the veins that became more prominent when he tensed them.

Y/n gave him a knowing look, tipping her head to the side. "In our line of work, we have to." She answered with what he already knew.

"Phones are the ultimate mood killer," Spencer grumbled, holding her by the hips to raise her off his lap.

Completely naked, Y/n walked across his bedroom to the bedside table where her phone sat. Usually, it was somewhere on the floor or still in her pants pocket.

She groaned even louder when she read the caller ID. "It's my mother." She announced, spinning back around to face Spencer. He had already stood up and was pulling his pants and boxer shorts back up.

"Now that is the ultimate mood killer." He corrected his previous with a chuckle.

"Worse than serial murder?" She asked, flashing him an amused grin.

Spencer huffed out a laugh. "From what you've told me, maybe." None of it was things she'd told him exclusively. They weren't, by any means, that close. It was stories she'd told the team when it was her turn to vent about her family.

"Be quiet," Y/n instructed, answering the call. The absolute last thing her mom needed to know was that she had a fuck buddy and not a boyfriend she could marry and have children with. "Hi, mom." She said into the phone, instinctively plastering on a fake smile.

Spencer found more amusement in not listening to her first instruction, walking up behind her. He placed his hands over her boobs, squeezing gently as he placed wet kisses on her neck.

It was far too hard to think when he did that, so she had to shove him off before replying. "You're coming to DC this week?" She repeated, making sure she didn't mishear. Even though she was hoping she did. "I can't say I'll be here and not out on a case." She rolled her eyes at the reply. "You really don't have to extend your trip here all week so you can see me." She was more or less pleading. "I can see you when I'm back near you." Or Thanksgiving, or Christmas, or the year 2050. "Yeah, I know I didn't come last time... Okay, I'm sure I'll be here Saturday night." That gave her five days to prepare. Not nearly enough time. "Yeah, just text me where and when... Okay, love you too, bye."

By the time she hung up the phone, Spencer couldn't stop his laughing. "Sounds like a fun weekend."

"Fuck you, Reid." She replied, throwing him an annoyed look over her shoulder before searching for her clothes.

"Yes, please, that's why you came here, wasn't it?" He asked, leaning his weight against the door frame.

Y/n briefly frowned at him, looking down at his pants. "Dude, you just got dressed."

"It felt inappropriate for you to be talking to your mom while I was naked." Spencer justified, placing his hands on her waist. It always made her skin break out in goosebumps and elicited a low chuckle, then a smirk from him at the effect he had on her.

She gestured to her own body, seeing the flaw in his logic. "I am very naked."

As always, Spencer had a good rebuttal. "And I wouldn't have it any other way." His finger began to circle over the skin on her lower stomach, making her breath hitch in the back of her throat.

Y/n's hands trailed down to his pants, biting her bottom lip as she looked up at him seductively. "I thought phones were the ultimate mood killer?" She challenged, tracing over the very apparent bulge.

"I don't think anything could turn me off right now," Spencer admitted, letting his head hang back as he closed his eyes. "Not even talking about your mom."

She quickly took her hands off his body. "Ew, that is just an indescribable amount of disgusting."

"Okay, okay, sorry." Spencer apologized, using his grip on her waist to push her backward until her calves hit the bed frame and she landed on the mattress.

~

"I am this close to throwing my phone out the window." Y/n declared, illustrating her threat to the technology by putting her index finger and thumb together until they were almost touching. The phone in question was still buzzing on her desk, something she was trying desperately to ignore.

It was Thursday, aka two days until the dreaded day, and she could not be less thrilled. The dress she intended to wear was hanging in her closet, taunting her every time she opened the door.

"No! Don't you dare do that to the tech." Penelope quickly threatened although it came out more like a plea, clearly unaware of the frustrating content of the messages.

The five of them- Y/n, JJ, Emily, Morgan, and Spencer- were sitting in the bullpen, trying to find a will to do their paperwork. And, of course, Penelope was there for moral support.

"Who is it?" Emily asked, figuring she was ready to share because anything was more interesting than paperwork days.

Her question went ignored by Morgan's observation. "I bet," He started, rocking back in his seat and drawing out a pause for dramatic effect. The smirk he wore was a clear sign he was about to say something ridiculous. "You've got a boyfriend."

That really made her chuckle. "You, Derek Morgan, are a terrible profiler." She informed him, glancing at her phone before promptly putting it back down. Morgan put his hand over the right side of his chest like his heart had been injured.

"Also, for future reference and general anatomy knowledge, your heart is on your left side, dumbass," Spencer mumbled, immediately having to duck when Morgan threatened to mess up his hair. He looked extra incredible that particular Thursday if she could say so herself. Which was a gray area. As daring as ever, Spencer flashed her a wink.

"Okay, not a boyfriend," JJ repeated, determined to test out her own profiling skills to one-up Morgan. Carefully, she eyed Y/n for any tell she might have had. "Your mom." She guessed.

Y/n pointed to her in affirmation. "Bingo." JJ grinned at the win, gloating to Morgan.

Having felt the same thing more than once in her life, Emily knew what the matter was. "You have to go see her, don't you?"

"Time and time again, we're learning the ladies of the BAU are far better profilers," Y/n said, informing her she was right.

"Oh, I want to take a turn at this," Spencer announced, smirking all for her to see. She gave him a, don't you dare, look which he firmly ignored. "You're not going home because she's coming to DC, and you're seeing her this Saturday... night." He was definitely attempting to act like he hadn't heard the very conversation he was profiling had occurred.

The rest of the team shared suspicious glances at how Y/n looked like she was about to slap him. They could guess, but they didn't know how Spencer knew the inner details of her life. As usual, the pair were far too in their own world to notice.

Penelope's voice snapped them out of it. "So, what exactly is the issue?"

"Oh, right, that." She was so close to having forgotten about it. "Well, I grossly underestimated what having dinner with her would look like. Now it's a gala with every friend she has and their kids, and I really don't want to go." She explained the details of the hundred text messages before adding on the worst part. "And I need a date."

Everyone wore the same sympathetic smiles. "I could come with you." Emily jokingly suggested.

"Yeah, she'd love that," Y/n replied sarcastically, picking up her phone to read the rest of the messages. "What's sad is that there isn't a single guy in DC who would actually date me." That earnt her a round of laughs at the depressing status of her love life.

"I know someone you could take," Morgan suggested, smirking with the same smirk he had before. She raised her eyebrows to warn him of what would happen if he said something dumb. Still, he continued. "Pretty Boy."

It wasn't an outrageous suggestion to the team. If anything, it was logical, but the looks on Y/n and Spencer's faces were filled with shock. She knew taking him would be dangerous, not only because she would want to jump his bones-he looked good in a suit- but because he could also be annoying and a wild card.

The four of them seemed to be desperately waiting on an answer. "So, got anything green?" She asked, half-jokingly so it wouldn't be awkward when he shut her down.

"I don't appreciate you pimping me out, Morgan," Spencer sounded, swinging his chair around to glare at his friend. "However, my time isn't free." His smug smirk shouldn't have been as attractive as she found it.

Y/n wasn't sure whether she had a better alternative. At least he was a doctor, which would earn her points with her mom. "What do you want?" She wondered, eyeing him carefully while she weighed up her options.

Instead of announcing it in front of the team, Spencer got up, cupping a hand around Y/n's ear to whisper to her. When she heard what he said, she was thankful he didn't say it aloud.

"Blow jobs, every day for a month," Spencer whispered, voice husky with his breath tickling her skin. Even just hearing him whisper something like that made a shiver run through her. The blush on her cheeks was enough for the team to realize something R18 was going on.

She tipped her head to the side, asking him if he was actually serious. Pulling him down by the tie, she took her turn to whisper into his ear. "You realize that's prostitution on my part?"

Spencer turned his head, their faces so close she could taste the lingering coffee on his tongue. Once he'd stared into her eyes for far longer than was appropriate for friends, he moved her head to the side. Quickly, his voice was in her ear again. "Is it, though? When you would do it anyway?" He challenged smugly.

God, she hated him for what he could effortlessly make her feel. She turned to Penelope to make sure there really wasn't another option. "Are you sure we don't have a case?"

The blonde shrugged. "Sorry, hon."

Sighing, she turned back to look at the only person in the world that she wanted to slap as well as makeout with. "One week." She offered, loud enough the team could hear it.

Scoffing, Spencer came up with a counteroffer. "Three weeks."

"Two and a half." Y/n proposed, holding out a hand to shake his. Spencer happily accepted it, wearing a shit-eating grin like he'd won the lottery.

The rest of the team shared equally confused looks. "Should I?" Emily asked them, unsure if she wanted to know what the deal was.

JJ shook her head, going back to the file in front of her. "I'd rather not know."

~

Upholding his end on the deal, Spencer knocked on her apartment door just before 6 that Saturday night. His eyes roamed over her figure for a moment. "Good evening, sweetheart." He greeted her sarcastically, stepping inside without being invited.

The pet name wasn't something she'd heard pass his lips, but it sounded nice. Whoever he eventually ended up with as a partner was lucky.

The suit he was wearing wasn't something she'd seen. A green suit jacket and pants with a white shirt, light brown tie, and matching in color leather loafers. The green of his suit matched the satin of her dress. If neither of them argued, they'd look like a perfect couple.

"Good news, we have a case." He announced.

Instant relief flooded her face, and she victoriously threw her hands up in the air. It wasn't the correct reaction to have to the news of a new case because it meant someone had died. "Yes, yes, yes!" She cheered, already getting out her phone to dial her mom's number.

"There's actually not. I was just joking." Spencer retracted, wearing his proudest, most smug smirk.

Y/n spun back to look at him, her mouth dropping open as she resisted the urge to slap the arrogance off his face. She didn't know what words could adequately summarize how irritating he was. "Did you know I like you less and less every day?"

Spencer's hands were quickly on her waist, pulling her hips to his. "Just had to see your disappointment face." He claimed, moving his right hand so he could brush a strand of hair off her cheek. "You know because I don't get to see it in bed when I'm screwing your brains out. Leaving you shaking and unable to walk." Aside from the smugness, the worst thing about him was his ability to do something sweet while saying something filthy. It was unfair and never failed to turn her on.

"That, right there, was the last sexual comment of the night," Y/n informed him sternly, knowing he loved breaking the rules when it came to her.

His hands raised in defense, eyes still playful. "Until after this thing is over, right?" He asked.

"If you behave, then sure, we can have sex." She granted, her giggling increasing when Spencer looked upward and mouthed 'yes.' So maybe he was cute as well as hot, intelligent, smug, amusing, and annoying.

Turning his wrist around, Spencer looked at the time on his watch before showing it to her. "Time to go?" He asked.

It was an unfamiliar feeling, being in Y/n's apartment for a reason other than having sex. He wasn't sure what to look at or focus on in the entryway.

"Uh, yeah, probably." Y/n agreed, stepping into her heels. Almost tenderly, Spencer held her hand to help her. She grabbed her clutch, activated the security system, and locked the door.

Instead of letting go of her hand, Spencer threaded his fingers through hers while they walked to the elevator. "You look gorgeous." He complimented, realizing he hadn't said it before.

That was also new. Y/n had heard 'hot' when she was naked, or 'beautiful' in a friendly way, but never something so romantic. It was different enough for her to look up at him with a smile, a genuine smile.

"Thank you." She replied as they stepped into the elevator. "You look handsome as well." Without their banter, it was far too intimate. "I really need to fix your tie, though." She added, unlacing their fingers to flip his collar up. His eyes were fixed on what she was doing, making it difficult to concentrate. "You have this habit of not doing your top button up and leaving your tie untightened." She explained while she did the top button, tightening his tie.

Spencer tipped his head back, exposing his throat further. If it wasn't for the stupid dinner, she'd have her lips all over it, threatening to make it up and leave him without makeup tips.

"It's not a habit. It's a style." He claimed, running his hands through his habitually- or deliberately- messy curls. "Ouch." He complained when she tightened the fabric until it was against his skin.

"Don't do that to your hair, either." She warned, moving his hands to comb through his hair and try to fluff it down.

Spencer ducked his head. "Hey! I thought you liked my sex hair."

Grabbing his wrists in one hand, Y/n used the other to rearrange his curls. "I like your sex hair when we've had sex, not when you're about to meet my mom." She corrected him like he didn't already know.

"Can you, like, not hold my hands?" He requested, wriggling them out of her grasp, just to be annoying.

"You can be so childish sometimes." She told him, finally satisfied with how his hair looked when the elevator doors opened.

Spencer grabbed her hand to hold again, whispering in her ear so no one else in the underground parking could hear. "Does that mean I can call you Mommy?" He was like a child acting out, being that it was impossible not to laugh.

"Spencer, zip it." She instructed, trying very hard to be stern.

Mimicking the zipping of a lock, he drew his lips closed, still unable to resist the urge to make jokes. "Yes, Mo-"

Y/n cut him off before he could continue, clamping a hand over his mouth and raising her eyebrows like it was a threat for him to continue. He was smart enough not to.

The swanky, upmarket hotel with valet drivers was absolutely not where Y/n wanted to spend her Saturday evening, even more so when she got the group text that Emily and Morgan were going out.

Y/n held his bicep while they walked inside the hotel's ballroom, close enough she could smell his cologne. Once again, she found herself nervous, and wishing she could turn back out the door.

At her grip tightening, Spencer stopped and turned to face her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Y/n was quick to ensure him she was okay, not wanting to spill her inner feelings to him.

Spencer looked like he wanted to say something else. Before he could, someone else called her name. A tone that elicited a squeezing of his arms.

Plastering on a fake smile, she turned away from Spencer. "Hi." She said, giving her a quick hug before spinning back and pulling Spencer closer. "Mom, this is Doctor Spencer Reid. Spencer, my mom." She introduced her.

Politely, Spencer shook her hand. "Y/n, what have I told you about introducing me by anything other than my name?" Her mom cautioned.

Spencer had never seen her confidence diminish so quickly in the four years he'd known her. The part of him that was her friend wanted to hug her while she squeaked out an apology. Logically, to Spencer, the person who raised Y/n would be just as amazing as she was and not unimpressed by her own daughter.

Winning points back for Y/n was his biggest goal. "It's really nice to meet you, ma'am."

The smile her mom gave he would have profiled as authentic. "So, you're a doctor?" She asked, curiously and almost impressed.

"I hold PhDs in Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering," Spencer answered, a charming smile on his cheeks as his hand drifted to Y/n's waist. If he wasn't just doing her a favor, she'd think it was protective.

Her mom carefully eyed her daughter. "And how long have you been dating?" She asked, making the underlying meaning of the question clear to her daughter.

Spencer stroked his thumb over her side, assuring her she could answer however she wanted. "Three months." Internally, she amused herself by replying with the timeline of their friends with benefits relationship. "I wanted to make sure it was serious before I introduced you." She tacked on, smiling up at him to sell the story.

"Well, that's good." Her mom agreed. "You need someone serious at your age." Spencer had to physically stop himself from letting his jaw drop open at the audacity of her comment.

Clearly, this wasn't a new situation to Y/n, who smiled tightly, like her mouth was wired to stay like that. "Yeah, I know, mom." She agreed, pretending it made sense to her and wasn't internalized misogyny.

"Good, now I've got to go and mingle." Her mom said, smiling at the couple before leaving.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Spencer spun her around, tentatively cupping her cheek. "Spence, I'm fine." She assured him, anticipating his question. "Even if I wasn't, this is not the place. I'm just sorry I didn't tell you."

Spencer trusted what she was telling him. Always. "Don't be sorry, baby." When she first heard what he called her in the bedroom, she realized it shouldn't have brought her so much comfort. But then it occurred to her that she was always comfortable around him. "Can I get you a drink?" He offered, purposefully steering the conversation in a different direction.

"If they have alcohol." She happily accepted with a wink.

The night dreadfully wore on, and Y/n spent every second wondering if she could leave. Spencer, more than her, owned the room. She'd seen him shine before, but it was usually talking about serial murder. In there, he was able to seamlessly fit into any conversation. He glided around the room, barely needing her there while he impressed everyone.

Maybe, she'd have to rent him out again. Giving him head was a small price to pay for boosting everyone's opinion of her. Particularly when he threw his head back the way he always did, looking at her through his unfairly long eyelashes. Still, thinking about how pretty her fake boyfriend looked while she was sucking him off wasn't appropriate for a charity gala.

All night, she drank more and more champagne, unsure what she was celebrating but sad about the state of her life.

Purposefully, she avoided her mother for the evening. It became tricky when it was time for dinner, and they had to sit at a table with her.

"Y/n, have you ever thought about leaving DC?" Another unrecognizable friend of her mom's asked as the dinner was finishing.

She shook her head, putting her fork down. "No, I really enjoy my job."

"Yes, but you could be doing something safer." Her mom disputed, her voice quiet enough no one else at the table could hear. Apparently, ridiculing your daughter is an okay thing to do, provided no one else is listening.

Y/n had far too much to drink and wasn't thinking about the consequences of her words. "I know, but I love it, and I've worked hard to get here." She countered, already reaching through her glass of champagne. Subtly, Spencer moved it out of the way before placing his hand on her thigh.

"Did you work hard, though?" Her mom asked rhetorically. "You went into college with big dreams of becoming a lawyer and left with an undergraduate degree to join the FBI after nothing but partying."

Unable to care anymore, Y/n groaned loudly. "Mom, I've gotten a master's degree since then." She reminded her, her temper boiling over. Maybe it was the alcohol in her system or how angry she was, but her cheeks were red hot. Spencer didn't think any of it was fair, and he wasn't one to get mad, but he would have jumped in to defend Y/n. "Seriously, I am so sick of you minimizing the work I do."

Just before her mom could reply, someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned her head around and immediately smiled. "Barabra, how are you?" She asked, already getting out of her seat to hug her. "Let me get my drink, and we can catch up." Just when Y/n thought she was out of the woods, her mom turned back around to face her. "This conversation is not over." She warned.

Y/n huffed once she left. "It is for tonight." She muttered under her breath. "I'm going to the bathroom." She informed Spencer, who gave her a pitiful look she really didn't want. He let her go, eyes following her with concern before he got caught up in a conversation about the importance of 16th-century artwork on modern street art.

When she hadn't come back in twenty minutes, Spencer excused himself from a conversation about political affiliations, which was uncomfortable enough already.

She was at the hotel bar with a near-empty glass in front of her. He'd been right next to her all night that he didn't have time to admire how beautiful she was from afar.

Making his way over, he slid into the barstool next to her, reaching out for her glass and moving it across the dark wood. The bar wasn't noisy at all, only a few businessmen around drinking with out-of-state colleagues or before their flights out of the city.

"Give it back." Y/n requested, trying to take the glass from him.

Spencer handed it to the bartender. "She doesn't need anymore." He reported, believed based on the fact he looked like her boyfriend.

"I'm sorry." She apologized, crossing her arms over her chest. Her emotions were clouded but bouncing between sad and mad. It was probably for the better because if her head was clear, she'd tell her mom what she really thought.

Gently, he touched her shoulder, drawing her attention away from the uninteresting art and to him. Maybe it was because she was drunk, but she could drown in the deep brown of his eyes.

"I think it's time to go home." Spencer declared, taking her clutch to get the valet ticket. He got out of his seat, handing the bartender a generous tip for looking after his girl and offering her a hand. She needed more than a hand, resting her weight against him while he practically carried her.

The front of the hotel was noisy, with people both leaving and coming back from night activities. It was cold too, and Spencer quickly shrugged off his jacket to wrap around her along with his arm still around her shoulder.

With the dark sky, she couldn't help but let it all out, crying with a hand clamped over her mouth so no one else would be able to tell. "Hey, hey, hey." Spencer cooed, drawing her into his chest so she could cry it out. It was a protective instinct, even if he'd seen the not innocent side of her because that's what he did: protect the people he loved.

Spencer held Y/n there until they brought her car around, opening the door for her before getting in the car himself. She sniffled out a sob while trying to wipe the mascara-stained tears running down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry that I'm such a mess." She apologized again, trying to put on a brave face.

"Sweetheart, it's okay. I'm here for you." Spencer assured her, reaching out to hold her hand while he drove. Even drunk, the nickname made her heart flip.

She figured being quiet was better than rambling the whole way home. Spencer didn't talk either, unsure of what to say to her to make it better, which he realized was absurd when he knew her so intimately.

The car right seemed to sober her up, enough she could get out by herself. He followed her, reaching out to grab her hand in case she tripped on her heels.

Once she opened the door, she turned back to look at him. "Spence, you really don't have to be here." He smiled before he could help it, and she was more than confused. "What?"

"Sorry, you just never call me Spence." He explained, awkwardly sticking his hands in his pocket.

"Thank you, seriously, for bringing me back." She was moving around her apartment, taking her shoes off, throwing her stuff on the couch and walking to the kitchen. When he followed, she shot him a confused glance. "I know I said we could have sex, but I think this evening was the ultimate mood killer." She guessed why he was still there with a dry laugh.

That broke Spencer's heart. The fact she thought he was only there because he wanted something. Even more, because she felt the need to pad it out with humor. Stunned, he stood there, wondering if he'd really messed her up that bad. "I'm not here to sleep with you," He said.

"Why then? You've only ever been here for that." Her tone wasn't even spiteful, just confused.

He stared at his shoes, figuring out an answer. "I... I don't just think about you like that, Y/n. I'm staying because you're my girl, and I like having sex, but I also respect you, and I think you need someone right now." Spencer blurted out all at once, not taking a breath.

"Your girl?" She caught the middle of his rambling. If he was looking, he would have seen the way the corner of her lips tugged up into a smile.

What he said quickly caught up to him, and he realized the possessiveness of his statement. "Sorry, I, uh, d-didn't mean it like that." He spat out.

Taking a step closer to him, she reached out to touch his arm, and his eyes flicked up to meet hers. Sure, she had been crying, but she was so beautiful, and he couldn't help but admire that for a moment. "I like it."

She was close enough he could have kissed her, and as much as he wanted to, he knew she was too vulnerable. Instead, he opted for hugging her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his chest. Although they'd been just as close naked, everything felt barer. He could feel her tears seeping into his top, but it didn't bother him in the slightest.

When he pulled back, he cupped her cheeks, resting his forehead against hers. "Do you want to talk about it, sweetheart?" He offered.

"Please." Y/n agreed, smiling a little at him.

They ended up in bed, under the covers, while Spencer held her. "It's not just about tonight, is it?" He sensed.

Y/n scoffed. "God, no. I've heard much worse than that before, believe me." Unfortunately, he did. "I just- she always makes me feel like I'm past my used by date." She explained. "Like I'm meant to get married and have kids just because she did."

"You know that's not true, right?" Spencer asked, making sure she knew. "You don't have to do any of those things, and you're completely enough by yourself."

Softly, she nodded, growing increasingly thankful he was there. Otherwise, she would have cried herself to sleep, getting deeper in her head about the whole situation.

"There's something else, though." Spencer realized, scanning over her face.

"I was in the bar for fifteen minutes, and not one guy offered to buy me a drink or talked to me." She mumbled, feeling like it was a dumb thing to say. "I shouldn't crave male validation, but when I don't get it, I still feel like I'm past my used by date."

All Spencer wanted was to make it better, but he wasn't sure how. It was so deeply ingrained in her that he wasn't sure he could, but he was determined to try. "Y/n." He was staring so intensely into her eyes he couldn't look away if he wanted to. "There's nothing about you that's worn out. You've got to stop thinking like that because you're so worthy. Everyone around you sees that every day."

"You're such an incredible person," Y/n informed him, inching her face closer to him.

"So are you," Spencer replied, determined to make her see it.

She glanced down at his lips for just a second, knowing she was close enough to kiss him. "Can I?" She asked hesitantly.

Spencer didn't verbally reply, closing the gap between their lips in the softest kiss they'd had as he held his palm against her cheek. "Don't feel obligated, but can I take you out on a date?"

"Yes, tomorrow?" She suggested, unable to bite back the grin.

"Of course."

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[rendevousz]

freak

avengers x teen!fem!reader

summary: you get captured during a mission and the team saves you.

warnings: language, violence, brief misogyny, torture, **NO sexual assault (because as i was proofreading, i only implied most of the torture scenes because i didn't want to write it in graphic detail and i realised the vague wordings might be misinterpreted as sexual assault which IT IS NOT, just clearing it up), and also again, my inability to write good endings

word count: 4589

notes: i just rewatched iron man 2 so that explains justin hammer LMAO also ooc justin hammer because even tho mans evil, he gets extremely um.. cruel here but anyways i hope you enjoy this!!

you were 13 when you first met the avengers and 16 when you officially joined. you grew up as one of HYDRA's experimented children and the team had found you when they raided the base that you were in.

a small, sickly-looking kid you were, sat against your cell wall, hugging your knees. 13 but you could probably pass off as a 10 year old due to how malnourished and miserable you were. burying your head in between your knees, you covered your ears as the loud gunshot noises filled the whole place. the metal door of your cell slamming open against the wall had you whimpering, hands above your head in fear.

every time the door slammed open, guards would come drag you out for more experiments so it was an instinct for you to cower in fear at the sound.

"last room in the west hall, i found a little girl."

you heard nothing because you were covering your ears, preparing yourself to be forcefully dragged by the guards to the experiment room. but it never came.

"hey," a soft voice called. you were violently shaking at this point, breathing heavily as you tried to calm down. "hey, it's okay." the voice called out again and you felt them touch your shoulders.

your head immediately jolted up, flinching away from the stranger's touch. your eyes met a blue pair as you backed away into the corner in fear. "i'm sorry! i'm sorry, i didn't mean to." the man apologised. you slowly looked up at him, observing him. he had on a full black outfit, a quiver of arrows slinging on his shoulder and he was holding onto a bow.

"don't be scared. i'm here to help," he states with his hands out, as if to calm you down. "that's what they all say." you hissed through gritted teeth and a tear-stained face, glaring at him even though that could've been a very wrong move had it been with an actual HYDRA guard.

despite the strange feeling of being safe around this man, you didn't let your guard down. that's exactly what those scientists said seven years ago. trusting kind-looking men got you into this hell you never thought you would ever escape from and you weren't going to make the same mistake again.

"clint," a red-headed female, also in all black, entered through the open door of your cell with her pistol up. at the sight of the weapon, you broke your glare towards the man. your breathing quickened and you went back to your original position before the archer came; body pressed up against your knees and covering your ears with your palms.

"i'm sorry! i'm sorry! i'll come! please don't use that on me again," you whimpered, voice muffled as your face was hidden against your knees. the woman freezes mid-walk, looking at her friend with a bewildered expression.

"nat! put that away!" clint whispered harshly, eyes glaring at the pistol in nat's hands. nat's jaw dropped in realisation, a small gasp leaving her lips as she immediately put away her weapon.

she slowly makes her way to you and clint puts his arm out before she could get closer. he looks at her with a worried expression as he shook his head, as if telling her that she can't get too close to you. nat nods understandingly, crouching down a distance from you.

"hey," she spoke softly. "i promise you that we're not here to hurt you." you kept your face hidden from her, still hugging your legs tightly. nat sighs before sitting down.

"here, let's introduce ourselves. i'm nat and this right here is clint." you hear her speak and when you slowly lifted up your head, you saw the both of them sitting down in front of you, seeming to have made themselves at home in your pathetic cell. "what's your name?"

name? you had never been able to use your name before. you always kept your own name deep in your heart despite no one ever using it, afraid you would forget it if you stopped thinking of it. the only name they ever called you here was 'number five'.

"y/n," you whispered, still doubtful about these people's intentions. you almost burst out crying when you said your name out loud. that was the first time you introduced yourself with your actual name and not the number you were given ever since you were captured.

nat must have noticed this because she immediately spoke up, trying to distract you from your consuming thoughts. "y/n...that's a pretty name for a pretty girl like you. how old are you, y/n?" she asks again.

you contemplated once more but decided it was fine. you knew you were probably going to regret trusting these two strangers but what could be worse than what HYDRA has been doing to you for years?

"13," you muttered, looking down at your lap. you were now timidly seated cross-legged, playing with the tattered hem of your shorts. you heard a small gasp from one of them and looked up to see clint with his jaw dropped.

the two adults were both thinking of the same thing. how could you be 13? you were so small and sickly-looking, they didn't even think you were older than ten, let alone an early teen.

"i know you're scared and you have all the reasons in the world to be, but i promise you, we're here to help. we'll get you out of here, only if you trust us. will you trust us?" nat says. your mind was conflicted. you were either going to finally get out of this hellhole or you were going to be taken somewhere even worse than here. but could anywhere really be worse than here?

you decided to take a leap of faith and trust these two strangers. that decision had to have been the best decision you've ever made in your life.

you were now 18, an official avenger and you had the most amazing family you could've ever asked for. they were a bit on the crazier side but could you really have a normal family when said family consisted of superheroes? but you weren't complaining. you loved these people.

they were the ones who took care of you when you thought you had no one. having been a HYDRA experiment, you had abilities the normal human didn't. said ability being shapeshifting and healing. that's why you became an avenger. your shapeshifting ability was essential during missions where you had to sneak in and you being able to heal others was crucial when medic wasn't able to be there on time.

you pretty much came along to every mission despite the adults saying you don't have to. you knew they were only doing that to protect you from dangers of all those missions but how could you not when you had such abilities? they'd be much better with you helping.

that was why you were here, in bulgaria, fighting alongside the team. well, just steve, nat, clint, bucky and tony.

justin hammer had managed to get his hands on a type of out-of-this-planet weapon that tony was also trying to retrieve, and he had big plans with it. hence why the avengers had to come where hammer had wrecked havoc in; sofia, bulgaria. he had upgraded his robots with the tech used for the stolen weapon.

with evil robots attacking the whole city, it felt like you were living the story that wanda told you of what happened in sokovia before you met the avengers.

an hour passed before all of the robots had finally been taken down and you all knew you had to get to hammer before he activates more robots to distract you guys and uses the weapon for bad things.

"tony, have you located hammer?" steve's voice sounded in your ear through the comms. you had just finished healing the nasty gash on clint's side, nat's cut on her forehead and the bruises all over bucky. you were feeling significantly weaker now, from the amount of healing you did. you stumbled slightly when you walked and bucky immediately held onto your arm. "doll, are you okay?"

"i'm fine, buck. nothing i haven't dealt with before," you told him, gently removing his grip on your arm, walking back to the quinjet.

-

"no, absolutely not. we are not sending y/n right into a death trap. she's not even strong enough right now, she just finished healing us."

you were all back at the compound now and planning a second attack on justin hammer.

"it's not a death trap, buck. and i know you're worried but she's the only choice we got. y/n, all you gotta do is sneak in as one of his henchmen and provide entrance for us. once we get in, we'll take all his guards down and get that weapon from hammer and we won't have to worry about his world domination plans anymore. it'll be over as soon as it starts and she'll be back safe with us. sound good, y/n/n?"

"yeah, sure." you agreed, already having a person in mind that you were going to change yourself to.

-

the plan had gone just as steve wanted and they managed to raid justin hammer's building, tony stealing the very item that could've aided in the massacre of millions. justin and his henchmen managed to escape the building before the avengers could catch them.

"well, that was anticlimactic," tony scoffs, already making his way to the quinjet. "but good job, y/n. you saved the day once again."

he expected to hear a laugh from you, like you usually did, being the only one who ever responds to him after missions. but instead he was met with silence. "kid?" still no answer.

"y/n, where are you?" steve panicked, finally realising that you were the only one who hasn't responded in a hot minute. "y/n/n, this isn't funny." he breathed out.

"she's...she's gone."

-

"well, well, well," a voice spoke right as you woke up from your slumber. you squinted, noticing that you were in some sort of dark room with only one light bulb right above you. "what do we have here?"

a figure walks right in the light and you could barely make out justin hammer's ugly face with how dizzy you felt. "if it isn't the little freak." he states condescendingly, smirking down at your helpless position, both wrists and ankles cuffed onto the metal chair you were sat on. you struggled against the restraints, trying to get free but to no avail.

your breathing quickened, your current vulnerable state reminding you of your later years in HYDRA. they had started off experimenting on you on a metal gurney but as you grew older, you realised that what they were doing to you was bad so you started fighting back. that ended you up on a metal restraint chair instead of the gurney, strapped to the chair with cuffs on your wrists and ankles.

this felt like deja vu. the same panic you felt, the same breathing difficulties, the same amount of effort put into trying to get out of the restraints. "you should know, princess, that that doesn't work." hammer chuckled, a fake pout on his lips as he crouched in front of you, a rough hand on your cheek. you instinctively jerked away from his touch, to which he paid no mind to because he had expected that. he then grabbed your chin harshly, turning your head up towards him. you glared at him.

"you think i didn't know what you did? snuck in as one of my men using your freaky powers? not to mention useless. imagine having powers but not being able to use them to even escape from mere humans," he laughs in your face, harshly letting go of your chin, throwing your head backwards. "you tell me where stark planned to bring the weapon and i'll let you pretty little thing go."

"no."

before you could even comprehend, his fist came flying at your face and your head dropped to the side at the impact. your left cheekbone was throbbing and you could already tell you were gonna have a black eye. despite the pain, it wasn't something you weren't used to. you were an avenger, after all. getting decked in the face was practically in the contract.

he grabbed your chin once again, pulling your head upwards to face him. "you're gonna tell me where it is or i'm gonna make you regret it."

you looked up at him with a bored look. he punched you again. and again. and again. until you could taste the blood on your tongue. "think you wanna tell me now, sweetheart?"

"never. not to someone like you."

the man seemed to get a kick out of beating you up because he punched you again in the face. your whole face was pretty much numb now and the metallic taste in your mouth intensified. you smirked at the man before you, chuckling darkly.

"sure, beat up the helpless girl. that's the only way you can beat me, right? when i'm all tied up? what a man,"

his hand was around your throat within a second and he forced you to look him in the eyes again. "sweetheart, you're a girl. tied or not, you're still weak. not even with that useless power of yours."

taking advantage of how close his face was to yours, you gathered as much bloody saliva in your mouth before spitting it in his face.

it was very much the wrong thing to do because after he wiped off his face, he left the room and two men came in, various tools in hand for their fun with you.

-

"stark! my buddy! how's it going?" justin hammer's face appeared on the screen in the conference room, where the avengers were having a meeting about your possible whereabouts.

"where is she?!" wanda growled, standing up abruptly.

"what ever do you mean?" hammer smirked, feigning innocence. "you know what we mean. where is she?" steve spoke authoritatively, trying to control his anger at the sight of the man's face.

"i'll tell you where your thing is if you tell me where my thing is." he smiled wickedly. this caused wanda to get angrier. "y/n is not a thing! and the weapon was never yours in the first place!" vision held onto her to calm her down and it worked because she sat back down, though still glaring at the screen.

"oh she's not a thing? seems like it to me, though." he smirked and the team frowned, not understanding what he meant until they heard screams and justin's smirk widening at the sound. what a sick bastard. "what are you doing to her?!" bucky screamed, knocking his chair back as he stood up.

"i don't know, you tell me." he chuckles, and the screen changes to the live footage of you in the restraint chair with the two men in the room.

you were no longer fighting back now, just sat limply with your head dropped to the side. the first hour with them, you had been fighting back like you did with justin, despite the restraints, but now entering the second hour, you were too exhausted for anything.

your left eye had been swollen shut, you could barely breathe through your nose, your cheeks were throbbing like hell and your bottom lip was busted. your head was the only thing that moved freely when hit so the men seemed to find satisfaction the most when they punched you in the face. though that didn't stop them from inflicting pain on other parts of you.

"let her go, she's just a kid!" sam exclaimed, his grip on the edge of the table tightening to control his anger. peter and wanda were crying looking at the awful state you were in, clint, tony and bruce were silent in shock, steve and bucky were getting increasingly angry as the abuse continued.

"are you going to tell us where stark is keeping the weapon or have you not gotten enough?" one of the two men was heard asking, pulling your hair back to make you look up at him. you look at with your half-opened right eye, breathing heavily. "my answer's never gonna change no matter how many times you ask."

he scoffs, stepping back before the other man swings a bat right at your stomach. the air was immediately knocked out of your lung. the men laughed as you coughed up blood profusely. this caused wanda to get more hysterical.

"well, looks like she wants more. i'll call back when she's had enough. toodles," he waves his fingers at the camera with a sinister smirk before abruptly ending the call.

the room went silent after the call, save for bucky and sam breathing heavily from the anger they felt. bucky then turned to steve, pain could be seen on his face. "you said she would be safe."

"i–i'm sorry, buck. i didn't know he was gonna take her with him." steve was still frozen in shock, the image of you on the chair now permanently ingrained in his brain. in everyone's brains actually.

"guys, gear up, he's in colorado."

all heads turned towards natasha and she looked back at them with a 'what?' expression. "you were tracking him down the whole time?"

"um, duh? now come on, gotta save our girl."

-

you awoke to a stinging sensation on your inner forearm. after your bloody coughing fit, they proceeded to beat you up again and you were knocked out then. now you were slowly regaining consciousness but you were starting to prefer being passed out. your whole body was in pain and the fact that you couldn't even move made it even worse.

"oh, lookie here. sleeping beauty is up." you were met once again with justin hammer's ugly face. he was sitting on a chair perpendicular to your left side. you couldn't wait to get out of here so you didn't have to keep seeing his face every time you woke up. your inner forearm was stinging even more now so you looked down at it. you gasped at the sight.

"how'd you like my artwork?" he chuckled at your reaction. there on your arm, obviously carved out with the bloody knife that the asshole was so proudly holding on to, was 'FREAK'. carved out big and bold. on your skin. "pretty fitting, eh? freak? because, you know, that's what you are."

the blood was seeping out through the cuts and it stung even more now that it had been exposed to the air. the asshole moved his chair to your other side. "what should i write on this arm?" he feigns a thinking expression, looking up thoughtfully with his thumb and pointer finger on his chin.

"please, i–i don't know where tony put it. i really don't." you cried, tears now flowing freely down your face without a shame.

he looks at you with amusement. "what is this? are you...are you giving up already? can't take anymore?" he smirks and you sigh, closing your eyes. you just awoke but you were exhausted. so, so exhausted.

he takes out his phone, the smirk now permanent on his ugly face. "stark! kid's finally had enough. wanna tell me where the weapon is now or do you want to find her body at the bottom of the ocean?"

you couldn't even be bothered to react to his statement. the pain all finally registered and you were tired. tired and in excruciating pain.

"kinda busy right now, can you call back later?" you could hear tony's voice sound from justin's phone and the man beside you laughed. "i see you don't care for the girl. what could possibly be more important than saving her?"

"i don't know, you tell me." a voice said from behind you two and before you knew it, hammer was knocked off the chair he was on. you weakly turned your head just in time to see a metal arm force hammer up onto his feet before wrapping around his neck. "don't you fucking touch her again."

"y/n!" you heard wanda's voice as she entered the room with peter. more tears flowed down your face at the sight of them, stinging when they rolled past the cuts on your face but that didn't matter. your family was finally here to save you.

you saw the red mist of wanda's powers surround your cuffs before they clicked open. "oh, bubs, i'm so sorry." she cried, both hands hovering around your face, hesitating to touch you in fear of hurting you. her eyes fell onto the words carved out onto your skin and her mouth fell open before covering it with her hand. "i'm so sorry we couldn't get to you sooner." peter's voice cracked and you could tell he was emotional.

"it's okay," you told them, giving them a small smile, the biggest one you could give in your current state.

tony, sam and steve entered the room to see bucky relentlessly beating up your captor and wanda and peter standing by you as you cried.

"cupcake, we're here now. don't cry, you're safe now." tony came closer and despite knowing that you were because your family was finally here, you couldn't help but let out all the pent up emotions you've kept throughout your time of captivity.

sam had a go at justin once bucky was done and steve had to physically pry them both off of the sick bastard so that nat could cuff him and bring him back to the jet.

"y/n/n, i'm so sorry. if i hadn't–"

"it's okay, stevie." you cut him off. truthfully, you only did so because you knew he was going to giving a long-winded explanation justifying his actions and your headache couldn't bear to hear lengthy sentences. but you also didn't think it was in any way his fault so he didn't deserve to be beating himself up for this. shit happens, anyway.

"let's get you out of here, doll." bucky says, cringing when he sees the blood on the floor of your chair, as well as on your clothes. he quickly reaches to lift you off the chair but stops when you let out an ear-piercing scream of pain. "doll, i'm so sorry! did i hurt you?!" bucky questions in panic.

"y–you didn't, they did. it...it hurts everywhere," you cried, feeling hopeless that you couldn't even bear being carried by someone, let alone get up by yourself. their hearts broke when you said that. you never really cried much in front of them and you were known to withstand pain well because of how much shit HYDRA put you in as well as your powers being healing, meaning you had a higher pain tolerance than most people.

"it's okay, bubs. i got you. let's get you home, alright?" wanda's calming voice broke you out of your breakdown and red mist surrounded your whole body, wanda moving you with her powers. you were thankful of that because it didn't cause any more pain to your body.

maybe hammer was right. maybe you are just a freak with useless powers. wanda floated you into the jet and she set you down on the bed. "y/n, oh my god!" clint cried out once he sees you. you looked much worse than you did on hammer's camera footage during the call an hour ago. "kid, i'm so sorry."

"clint, take the wheel. bruce doesn't have all the resources needed. she needs to be treated ASAP." nat tells her best friend and he nods, taking the wheel and immediately taking off once everyone had boarded.

you were laid on the bed, right eye slightly open as bruce examined you. exhaustion hit you like a truck and before you knew it, you blacked out.

-

"how is she, doc?"

"pretty banged up but y/n, as i already knew, is a strong girl. lots of internal bleeding, broken bones, bruises and scars but she'll be fine. you can check her file later if you want," doctor cho tells tony outside of your room. "it's fine, can we see her?" he asks on behalf of the whole team standing behind him.

"yeah, of course! she woke up five minutes ago. i'll be off now, call me or my team if you need anything." she bids goodbye and left the group of superheroes.

steve slowly opens the door and there you were in bed, staring up at the ceiling. "hey, y/n/n," he greets sheepishly, feeling as though he had interrupted your alone time of blankly staring at the ceiling. the team trailed in behind him and soon your bed was surrounded by the avengers.

"hi, cupcake."

you looked away from the ceiling and turned your head towards tony. "oh, hey tones." you smile as sam helps you sit up while the rest sat on chairs all around you. "how you feeling, bub?" nat asks, eyes flickering down to the bold scarring of letters on your forearm.

"as okay as i can be." you answered truthfully, pressing your inner forearm closer to your body so the team doesn't see the letters carved onto your skin. you already know what you are, you didn't need the rest thinking so too.

"you're not a freak, bubs."

you look up at wanda. "i'm sorry, i didn't mean to read your mind. but they were awfully loud. you're not a freak, y/n. and you're not useless too. that bastard may have carved out that word onto your skin but the scar will fade. it's not permanent. you know why? because that's not what you are." she tells you, taking off her jacket to wrap it around you because you felt self conscious of the scars all over your arms where the team could see.

"yeah, doll. you're an amazing person and your powers help us so much. i mean, you saved millions just helping us get the weapon back from justin hammer. if you hadn't, well, who knows what could've been happening right now?" he places a gentle hand at the side of your head, stroking your hair.

"yeah and who heals us when we get really hurt during missions, huh? i mean, if you hadn't healed that stab wound i got during that mission in new mexico, i probably wouldn't even be here at this moment." clint tells you and you roll your eyes at him. "you're exaggerating."

"i am not!" he laughed and you playfully rolled your eyes once again.

"y/n/n, i'm really sorry for—"

"i don't wanna hear it, stevie."

"but–"

"no. it's not your fault. shit happens." you brush him off. "lang–"

"you say language to me, i'll blame this shit on you even when it's not your fault. try me, rogers." you glare at the blond super soldier. he raises his arms in surrender, leaning back on his chair as the team laughs.

the team continue to entertain you and you couldn't help but smile at the sight in front of you. these were the people who would drop anything for you and were willing to dropkick any asshole in the face for hurting you. justin hammer never had a chance against your family to begin with.

taglist <3

@amourtentiaa @rqmanoff @abitofeverythinggg

[musings-of-a-maladaptive-dream]

I may hate the sequels but I must admit even though I hate them I do not want the EU back.

Why? Because the EU is just as much bullshit in it as the sequels do and though it’s nostalgic I would rather take parts from the EU and parts from the sequels and make a good trilogy to replace the sequels instead.

I loved the sequel characters potential.

But that potential was wasted towards the end of the force awakens and completely ruined and tossed out in the 8-9th movies. It went from having characters with interesting backgrounds and amazing potential and turning all these characters into wasted potential by the end of the movie.

Finn: the ex stormtrooper who could’ve been a Jedi or lead a stormtrooper rebellion or both at the same time. But this was tossed out because Disney wants to pander to China.

Poe: a fighter pilot who was rebellious to his own family and an amazing pilot and meaningful to the resistance and could’ve been a great friend to Finn if not a love interest. But again Disney hates gay people, doesn’t like men in authority positions, and hates anyone who isn’t white.

Rey: a no one who proves the force can flow through anyone and who due to never having had the opportunity to have power or authority in her whole life as well as holding long term attachments to her parents who abandoned her could’ve made an amazing story about someone falling to the dark side without having proper training. Disney didn’t want to put a woman in the place of an antagonist or even having flaws after the first half of the force awakens.

Kylo: a misguided grandson to darth Vader who had been influenced by snoke through the force since before his birth and facing the knowledge of his grandfather’s legacy may have been an interesting antagonist with a great possible redemption story. He was turned into a joke and a weakling by the end of the movie who went from being able to stop a blaster bolt midair to not being able to fight two untrained rebels. Kylo could’ve seen Rey’s fall to the dark side and become a grey Jedi.

Hux: a powerful general who grew up indoctrinated into the imperial remnants and raised by his abusive father to become a distrustful and ambitious man. He was turned into a joke and all of his potential wasted first few minutes into episode 8 and any and all potential he could have had to be a major antagonist or a amazing spy and traitor if not a deserter were wasted. He could’ve become the main antagonist, he could’ve be a deserter who left to start a crime ring or his own military force after Rey fell to the dark side, he could’ve become a spy after two crazy dark side users started abusing him. All the potential wasted.

Phasma: a massive waste of potential to the point I have no idea why she was in the movies at all. Very forgettable and probably because Disney didn’t want a woman in the place of an antagonist. Could’ve been more like she was in her book and been amazing but we didn’t get that.

Rose: why was rose made to be a part of a horrible sub plot? Why couldn’t rose have been a great supporter character like Chewie or Luke’s friends in a new hope? Why was she written to be so bad? That was just mean to her actor. That whole horse/gambling planet was a worthless arc that could’ve been Finn, Poe, rose helping leia and the rebels abandon ship and set the ship to jump to hyperspace on its own with autopilot while they evacuated to crait before halfway through the movie and have enough time to contact help and escape. That whole plot could’ve been making the main characters useful instead of sending them off on a mission that did absolutely nothing. Poe could’ve actually looked like he was competent in helping the resistance by suggesting this idea with the help of Poe and rose who would be helping.

Luke: why did they do that to Luke? He’s a fan favorite and if he wasn’t made a joke Disney could’ve made bank off his merchandise alone. I have no idea why they decided to ruin every child or anyones hopes and dreams for the sequels who had known Star Wars for 20 or more years before tlj? Why? It makes no sense..

They could’ve had Mara jade in these movies and other EU characters and a hell of a lot better plot that what happened. Also had they left time open between each film as though years or months had passed between the films 7-8-9 they could’ve potentially made several clone wars type shows and made even more money.

I just think everything after midway through the force awakens was wasted potential. I enjoyed the characters and what could’ve been a great start to an amazing trilogy but it ended up so bad hardly anyone saw solo and my own family outright refuse to see it with me. And I didn’t even watch the final film so I have no idea who’s in it or what it’s about outside the memes. The actors who starred in this movie were done dirty and I could argue they were done as dirty as game of thrones season 8.

[firefly-in-darkness]

Lost and Found.

Pairing → Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Characters → Ciri, Jaskier, Priscilla, Yennefer (mentioned)

Summary → Geralt left with Yennefer for months.

Word Count → 5k

AFG Square Fill → Geralt @anyfandomgoesbingo

Warnings → 18+. Angst, heartache, jealousy, swearing, happy ending

Betas → @wonder-cole // all mistakes are my own.

A/N →  Well this ended up being a longer story than I expected… I’ve only written for Geralt / The Witcher fandom once before and will have used content from the series, the books and the games as I have watched, read and played everything based on our ashen haired babe

The tavern was full of locals that had escaped from the cold night air. Farmworkers caked in mud with a distinct stench of sweat, merchants drowned their sorrows or celebrated their successes. A shadowy corner for the gamblers prayed for their Gwent decks to fare better than their opponents. There were even some families gathered by the large fire with bowls of broth and torn pieces of bread.

You had taken a seat at an empty table, slightly out of sight from the group you were meant to be with. You weren’t ready to be confronted with that situation until you had at least two tankards worth of ale in your system. In all fairness, you had debated about coming here in the first place, but it was Cirilla’s twenty-first birthday, and you would have felt awful if you hadn’t shown your face, even for the briefest of moments to wish her well.

It had absolutely nothing to do with avoiding a certain witcher, nothing at all.

A few years ago, Ciri marched into a small school on the outskirts of Rochdale, a quaint town in Velen, and stated that she wanted to continue her studies. Even if it was only for a few days a month. When her family visited. The matron was sceptical at first, not knowing who this child was or where she had come from but when Ciri produced a large coin purse, there were no qualms of fitting her into the roster of students.

You took Ciri under your wing the moment she’d stepped into your classroom. Ciri’s love for history and mythology strengthened the bond between you. Many evenings were spent talking about the world and all its wonder. And particularly, the monsters that lurked in the darkness.

In the space of a few weeks, you learnt a lot about Ciri and her adoptive parent. She confided in you about her hardships of trying to find Geralt. He was someone that her grandmother had told her to go to when Cintra fell to the Nilfgaardians. Your heart had clenched at the thought of such a sweet young girl wandering this world alone, with no family and in search of someone that she did not truly know existed.

It was one evening when Ciri unravelled the rope attached to her horse outside the school, waiting for Geralt to arrive, that you first met him. While you loaded the saddlebags with books, the sound of hoofs on the cobblestones caught your attention, and a majestic mare appeared from the side of the stone wall with a man astride her. He silently nodded to Ciri, no further expression or acknowledgement was made.

It looked as if there were no more than fifteen years between Geralt and Ciri, and he was not what you had expected. You had envisioned an older man, a farmer or merchant perhaps, with a family of his own. Not this handsome man, in a black cape, luscious white hair that curled over his shoulders.

He had caught you off guard, enamoured as you watched him dismount the horse. Your bodies almost touched in the tight space between you both. You stared at his chest, the wolf head medallion indicating his occupation. A Witcher. He towered over you; amber eyes glared down as you froze to the spot. Your legs felt like lead as you were held in his gaze. He should have frightened you, a slayer of monsters but, regardless of his stoic appearance, his presence provided a sense of calm.

The first grunt that he expelled went unheard, you snapped out of it when he did it a second time and shifted from his path so he could collect the books from Ciri. You could have sworn that, even though he seemed gruff, a small smirk twitched at your flustered state.

“See you next week Miss,” Ciri called after you as you lifted yourself into the saddle and gave her a small wave.

The awkwardness heated your cheeks and your mind spiralled at the way you’d reacted to Geralt. You had never frozen in front of a parent or guardian before. A cough brought you to your senses and a groan rumbled through you unexpectedly as you turned to him, eyes wide with embarrassment and a wish for the ground to swallow you whole.

You waited for Geralt to say something, but no words followed, and he seemed to be in just a flustered state as yourself, but you tried to shake that thought. There was no way a man like him would ever think of a teacher in any way other than a guardian should.

Ciri popped from around Geralt’s horse, a mischievous look on her face, “He’s trying to ask you if you’d like to join us for dinner or would like company back to your lodgings.”

You smiled to yourself at the fond memory, the sound of music and laughter lifted your spirit in the small tavern. Until you glanced to the side; the seat beside you was empty, and its presence was a reminder of what you had lost. 

What had happened between you and Geralt was a friendship that had developed into secret sparks of lust. But your burning flame of love was extinguished the moment you saw him with Yennefer. After two years of tiptoeing around friendship and the late night trysts, you’d lost him to the most beautiful and powerful woman of the continent.

Your heart ached when you caught several glimpses of Geralt throughout the evening; either talking to the innkeeper or with Ciri and Jaskier as they attempted to get him to dance. He hadn’t seen you yet, you were sure of it, and you hadn’t made your presence known to anyone either. As much as you wanted to keep it that way, you would have to see Ciri at some point and that time came sooner than you expected as your eyes met across the tavern and she ran towards you.

In a flash of light, she teleported to your table and wrapped her arms around you. You would never get used to that. You returned the hug, clinging onto her as tightly as you could because it was likely this would be the last time, you would see her.

Nobody knew about your job offer at Oxenfurt Academy, that you were strongly considering the move to Redania, bags packed and ready at the door. It was what you needed, a fresh start. Plus, you knew that the matron was going to start looking at reducing the staff numbers after the drop in births in the town so you might as well get out before you were penniless.

You let Ciri go and caught another arrival to your side; Jaskier. His beaming smile was infectious, and he made you giggle as he dramatically bowed to you. Geralt was behind him, no expression on his face and not that you dared to look at him properly in fear for how much it would hurt you to do so. 

Completely unaware of the awkward tension that was filling the space between you and your former secret lover, Jaskier instantly took a seat opposite you and tipped his tankard upside down, “Oh Geralt, it looks like it’s your round!” 

Geralt grunted and left the three of you on your own. You relaxed ever so slightly as you watched him walk away and turned your attention to the birthday girl, woman.

“Oh, Y/N, it has been a while, three months at least!” Ciri said as she clasped your hands in hers.

“It has indeed, I heard from many merchants about your birthday celebrations, and I had to make sure at once that I was here to join in!” You beamed at her and shuffled along the wooden bench for her to join, “How long are you staying in town for this time?”

“I’m not sure, it depends on Geralt as always.” Ciri shrugged.

Priscilla, a beautiful blonde bard that caught Jaskier’s attention many moons ago in Novigrad, appeared at this side and pulled him away to perform a duet on the makeshift stage. In her excitement, Ciri jumped out and followed them. Even though they didn’t notice you had stayed behind, you didn’t mind and chuckled at their antics as they coaxed the patrons to gather around.

“Guess this is for you then.” Geralt slid into the seat opposite and gestured to the tankard, the foam spilling over the edge as you took it from him.

You were sure he could hear your heart thumping in your chest, choosing to give a small smile and a nod as you sipped the ale. The bittersweet melody filled the room, and it took you back to another time. To one where Geralt held you in his arms and filled you with so much hope for a future together.

It was your first visit to the Skellige Isles, and you loved every second that you spent with Crach an Craite and his clan, celebrating his daughter, Cerys, becoming Queen. You had been surprised when Geralt had asked you to accompany him, thinking that he’d ask Yennefer or Ciri to join him, but you didn’t let the moment pass you by; it was the first time you’d been on a ship and travelled the seas, let alone attended a coronation.

The banquet hall was full to the brim of Jarls and their clans from the many islands that formed Skellige. Enormous amounts of food were laid out on the tables and wine was on a never-ending supply. The revelry continued long into the night, you and Geralt clapping and laughing along to the guests dancing the Cèilidh.

You brought the goblet to your lips, now stained red from the wine, and sipped slowly as you felt the alcohol taking effect. Warmth filled your cheeks and you felt like you were floating with Geralt at your side, his arm securely around your waist.

“Drink up, because we are going up there any minute.” Geralt whispered in your ear.

Once more, Geralt had surprised you, thinking he’d never do such a thing and proving you wrong in an instant. Or, just, maybe, you shouldn’t believe everything that Yennefer tells you. He whisked you up into his arms and you skipped into the throng of bouncing and twirling dancers.

After a few stumbles and the odd miss turn, you found the rhythm and began to enjoy yourself. It was like you were in your own little world with Geralt. Your heart was beating so fast you thought it might burst from your chest. Together, you rounded the dance floor, twirling between other people and joining them for the group segments of the dance before returning to Geralt to skip through a human archway.

The music hit its end, you and Geralt both collapsing onto a bench, still giggling through the pain of being out of breath. He leant forward, his hand firmly on the nape of your neck, and pressed his lips to yours. You kissed him back with no inhibitions.

Your fingertips skimmed along your bottom lip, the memory of Geralt’s kiss still lingering there. After all this time, the memory had you brimming with hope and desire, or maybe it was the ale that was clouding your judgement. Without a second thought, you turned towards Geralt to find that he was looking straight at you, and he was too slow to hide his staring. You choked out a laugh as his eyes went wide and his cheeks tinged pink. Never in a million years did you think you’d see the witcher blush.

“I’m sorry but your face.” You giggled into your palm, swaying from side to side and clutching your belly. “So-sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” He tried to sound angry, but his smirk betrayed him.

Your fit of laughter tapered off and allowed you to regain your composure. The awkward silence filling the space between you once more as you resigned to not pursuing the conversation. A wave across the room caught your eye, Ciri beckoning you over but as you turned to stand, Geralt placed his hand atop yours on the table.

He hardly touched you, and you were staring at his hand, uncertain as to what he was doing. You lifted your head to find his softened gaze and immediately dropped back into your seat, nodding for him to say whatever it was that was on his mind.

“What were you thinking?” He whispered.

“When?” Your brow furrowed, the weight of Geralt’s hand growing as he relaxed.

“Just now. It looked like you were daydreaming.” He asked.

Your heart raced; you were silly to think he wouldn’t notice. He notices everything, and you couldn’t lie to him, he would catch you out, even if you were good at it. Stalling for time, you picked up your empty tankard and tried to catch the remaining droplets for some courage.

“If you really must know,” You paused, waiting for him to shut the conversation down but he didn’t and you felt the heat rising up your neck, “Erm, well, I was thinking about when we danced at Cerys’ ascension.”

Geralt smiled, a full beaming one, one that was like the moment he pulled away from your kiss all those years ago. It hit you with a force, and you couldn’t hold back all the feelings that you had packed away when he left with Yennefer not even a few months ago.

He didn’t say anything, just smiled and then sipped his ale. You weren’t sure what was happening and why he was looking at you like that. As if he was happy that you still thought of him fondly. Before you could question him, Ciri was at your side and tugging at your arm to join her, exclaiming that there would be dancing. You unfurled her hand from its grip and shook your head.

“I’m sorry Ciri, but I have to go now.” You gave her a sad smile as you stepped out from the table and pressed a light kiss to her cheek, “I hope you enjoy the rest of your celebrations little sparrow.”

Ciri’s face softened at the old nickname, “Thank you, do you need someone to walk you home.”

You chose to ignore the glare that Ciri was giving Geralt as you pulled the cloak around your shoulders. Geralt wouldn’t fall for her tricks but she was stubborn and from the huff and scrape of the chair, you knew she had gotten her way.

“Ready?” Geralt asked and you nodded, following him through the door into the night.

It was freezing, the air bit into the exposed skin of your cheeks and neck. Suddenly Geralt was in front of you, pulling the hood over your head and bringing it tighter around you.

“There’s a storm coming, you don’t want to catch a cold.” He explained.

You were dumbfounded at his care and the way he weaved an arm across your shoulders, guiding you back to your cottage. Unable to do or say anything more than put one foot in front of the other, or thereabouts, in your slightly merry state.

Geralt was warm, and smelt of ale, sandalwood, and leather. You were unable to stop yourself from sinking further into his hold, relishing the moment. Even if it meant that your heart would shatter once you reached your home, and the loss of his warmth would bring tears.

Silence remained between you, yet this time it was comfortable. It was as if this is where you were meant to be; walking side by side in a small town, surrounded by the multitude of stars and nothing but the beating of your hearts.

The cobbled path wound around various shops and cottages, culminating in the town square. It was empty, a distinct comparison to when you visited earlier in the morning to see if the visiting merchants had anything new or different to sell.

“Would you have liked to dance?” Geralt whispered, if the square was alive with the traders and merchants, you wouldn’t have heard him, but it was clear in the open air.

“I’m sorry?” You uncurled from his hold and stood in front of him, looking up at his glowing eyes.

“Back there, did I stop you?” He asked with a neutral expression that you had long ago realised was a mask to hide his true feelings.

“No,” you shook your head and wrapped your arms around yourself, “I did think it was time to leave though.”

“Because you were daydreaming about me?” Geralt asked, a lopsided smile on his lips as you continued down the path.

“Yes, because I was getting caught up in our past.” You ducked away from his sight, “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“I was thinking about the same thing, well more specifically what happened afterwards.” Geralt stopped at the gate to your cottage, “And I think you were too.”

You looked up at him, knowing you couldn’t lie, with a sad smile “You know I was Geralt. Don’t play games with your thinking. Thank you for walking me home.”

Geralt’s words rushed out, “Can I come in?”

Once again, Geralt was full of surprises, he’d never invited himself round and usually, he would just enter without question. Then you thought of how different things were now that you had gone your separate ways. When he chose to be with her.

“What would Yennefer think?” You asked, the jealousy not missing from your tone no matter how hard you tried to be nonchalant.

“Yennefer is not my master.” He grunted, “Why are we even talking about her?”

“Because you left with her. That day.” You bit down on your lip in a hope of tears not making an appearance. “I didn’t realise you had feelings for her until Jaskier mentioned the djinn and the wish you granted.”

“That fuckin’ bard.” He growled, “I do not have feelings for Yennefer, my wish was about you, but it didn’t work. You didn’t want me near you.”

You recoiled at his tone, “excuse me? You’re the one that left in a carriage to god knows where for months without a single word.”

“I left a letter.” Geralt pushed through the cottage door and gestured his hands towards the candles dotted around the cottage, causing a flame to ignite at their wicks.

You followed him into your bedroom and watched as he pulled at the drawer that you’d put aside for him many moons ago, and atop his tunics was a piece of folded paper. You stared at the letter, now in Geralt’s hand. 

It had been too painful to open the drawer, you hadn’t been in it since he left. It had taunted you enough just by being there, a reminder of you welcoming him into your home. Let alone being able to feel the fabric or take in his scent, it would have filled your heart with more pain.

“As it’s still in the drawer, I’m guessing you didn’t find it.” Geralt sighed, placing it down on the furniture and leaning back against, folding his arms. “And that explains why you didn’t turn up the other night.”

“I didn’t, why would I have gone in there?” You whispered as you began preparing the fireplace, anything to keep you busy.

He mumbled, “Because you sleep in my tunics when I’m away.”

“Okay, and what about the other night?” You questioned as the flames caught on the logs, “Where was I supposed to meet you?

At the lack of response, you turned to look at Geralt and he was scowling at something behind you, the trunk at the door and a collection of bags. You watched him taking in the rest of your home. There were no ornaments or trinkets on the walls, no books on the shelves or stacks of parchment dotted around. It was all packed away, ready for you to leave.

“Are you going somewhere?” He asked, the neutral appearance back on his features.

“Yes.” you nodded.

“For how long?” His arms dropped from their hold on his chest.

“For as long as I have a job.” You stated.

“Where?” Geralt was quiet and looking down at the floor.

“Oxenfurt Academy.”

His head snapped up, amber eyes glinting in the dim light of your cottage, “Why are you going to Redania?”

“Because I have nothing else here.” You shrugged as a tear fell from your cheek, you knew that not saying goodbye was hard, but this seemed a lot harder.

“What about Ciri? Or Jaskier? Priscilla?” Geralt asked, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he waited for your answer.

“I’m sure I’ll see them again. Ciri and I will likely cross paths if she pursues her education, and I’m sure she’d track me down the second she finds out about me leaving. I already made a promise to Jaskier that I’d see Priscilla’s shows wherever I am.” Before Geralt interrupted, you sat on the edge of your bed and continued, “He doesn’t know, it was an old promise, and you know what I’m like when it comes to those.”

Geralt silently moved across the room and sat beside you, taking your hand in his, “What about me?” 

You shook your head, “I thought you didn’t want me anymore.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Geralt looked at you, a softness in his eyes, “So, Oxenfurt Academy?”

You were unable to look at him, ashamed of deciding to leave in haste and without talking to him about it at least once, “Yes, I leave in a couple of weeks.”

“I’ll follow you anywhere.” He promised and before you could counter him, he continued, “I asked you to meet me at the docks because I wanted to give you this.” 

Geralt opened a pouch attached to his hip and pulled out a delicate silver chain. He held it out so you could see the side profile of a wolf’s head with an amber gem for the eye. You weren’t sure what to say as you marvelled at the beautiful gift, lifting your hair away from your neck for Geralt to clip it in place.

“Thank you, it’s beautiful.” You whispered.

Your fingers glided along the chain and you held the wolf away from your chest, twisting it in the glow of the candles. A stray tear fell down your cheek but Geralt caught it with the pad of his thumb. You leant into his warm touch, his calloused palm a welcome feeling that you had long missed. Geralt lifted your face and pressed his forehead to yours before he softly kissed you.

The kiss was tentative at first, light pecks making way for harder pushes and pulls, swipes of tongue until your arms were wrapped around Geralt’s neck. You adjusted until you were straddling his lap. Geralt pulled at the lacing of your tunic until it loosened around your shoulders and exposed more of your chest. 

He brought his lips to yours again, the kiss was more heated than before. Tongues swiped and teeth nibbled along each other’s lips with him pulling your body into a tight hold, his erection hardening and pushing against your core. 

At the spark of pleasure, you pulled away in shock and lifted your body from him. You held the tunic in place and backed away, sitting further down the bed from him, his head hanging down as you tried to make sense of why you pulled away and were still protecting yourself when it was clear that he wanted you.

“I’m sorry Geralt, I- for the longest time, I thought you were with Yennefer, I-” You sobbed, hand cupping your mouth as you let the emotions flow freely.

You felt the bed dip and you turned to find Geralt laying back against the pillows, an arm open in waiting. You scooted up the bed and curled into his side, sinking into his warmth, and being soothed by the fingertips that swirled up and down your arm in nonsensical patterns.

“As I said before, I will follow you anywhere that you go.” He murmured and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

With the tears no longer falling, you tipped your head up to look at Geralt to find his eyes closed. You rested your head onto his shoulder and began to trace the shape of the medallion on his chest, sleep finally taking you to the world of dreams as raindrops began to patter on the roof.

A new home: it was on a quiet street quite close to Oxenfurt academy, only a twenty-minute stroll until you were in the hustle and bustle of the city. It was a lot busier than you had prepared for, especially compared to your small town of Rochdale. 

Your colleagues had told you that you’d been lucky to find the lodgings in the area and for such a good rental rate too. The ground floor consisted of a kitchen and seating area and the upstairs hosted two bedrooms. It was just the right size for you, but you hadn’t fully unpacked yet. Satchels half-emptied and trunks open but still full to the brim with trinkets and books.

You were settled in the chair by the fireplace, the warm embers glowing as you read the book in your lap. It wasn’t late but your eyes were feeling heavy after the most hectic month of moving to the city and settling into your new role at the academy. 

A knock at the door made you jump; the book fell to the floor with a thud. Tentatively, you approached the entrance to your home and glanced through the frosted pane in the wooden door but could only make out two figures. Ciri and Geralt stood before you, your mouth dropped agape as their arrival was unexpected and you weren’t sure what to say.

“Surprise! I’ve enrolled at Oxenfurt Academy.” Ciri laughed and wrapped her arms around you.

You held her close and rested your chin on her shoulder, looking over at Geralt, shock and happiness coursing through you. In the dim light of the torches that lined the street, his mouth twitched into a smirk. Your heart fluttered and you couldn’t wait to have his arms wrapped around you once more.

“I cannot believe it; I wish you’d let me know beforehand so I could have prepared for your visit.” You beckoned them into the warmth of your new lodgings, picked up the fallen book and attempted to tidy away the pots and pans on the table.

“Oh, come on Y/N, it’s only us, I’ll start making a pot of tea.” Ciri headed over to the stove and filled the kettle.

Geralt entered your home, he filled the space with his height and broad shoulders, the atmosphere was tense, and you weren’t sure what to do. It had been a while since you last spoke to him; the morning after he returned and discovered you were moving away.

“Hello,” you squeaked, unable to keep the excitement from your tone, “erm- how long are you staying? Where are you staying?”

“Ciri mentioned you had spare beds.” Geralt murmured. “If that’s okay with you?”

“Yes, of course, right this way.” The steps creaked underfoot as you both ascended the staircase, and your nerves began to bubble as you felt his eyes on your back. You opened the first door to the spare room with two single frames and a small chest of drawers, “sorry it’s not much. My bedroom is just down the hall and there is a bath in there.”

Geralt placed a couple of satchels on the bed and removed his armoured plate. You couldn’t help the way you stared at him in the tunic and the dark hair across the exposed part of his chest. He pulled out a small bag from a satchel pocket and turned back to you with a small smile.

“I-We brought your favourite biscuits from Rochdale.”

The stutter did not go unnoticed, but you did not react to it, instead offered a smile and a whispered thank you as Geralt placed the bag into your outstretched hand. Instantly, you opened it and raised it to your face to inhale the sweet scent of the treat.

“This will go lovely with the tea, we should-.” You gestured back to the stairs and spun on your heel.

“Wait,” Geralt huffed and caught the crook of your arm to turn you to face him, “I should have done something else when you answered the door.”

A frown etched on your features until his hand cupped your cheek and you caught the way his amber eyes glowed as they flicked down to your lips. Your mouth parted and your eyes fluttered closed as you slowly edged towards one another, meeting in the middle in a soft kiss.

Your body tingled in Geralt’s hold, as your lips melted into his chapped ones. Knees grew weak as he invaded all your senses. It was as if he knew and wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you flush to his hard chest.

Both of you pulled away for air, his fiery gaze drank you in and sent a wave of pleasure through your body. He claimed your mouth once more with hunger, your hands carded through his ashen locks, and you tugged him closer still. Geralt lifted you into his arms and carried you to your bedroom.

Too consumed in your reunion and that Geralt had kept his promise to follow you anywhere, neither of you heard the door close behind Ciri’s hasty exit.

The tea and biscuits were long forgotten.

Everything Tag List: @kitkatd7 / @fandomfic-galore / @writerwrites / @thefridgeismybestie / @wedonttalkaboutitenough​ / @courtneychicken / @persephonesinfernos / @miraclesoflove​ / @lizzarooni​ / @queenoftheunderdark​

[totallysharkycomplete]

Waiting For You Part Five (Ford Pines x Reader) What’s Lost Isn’t Forgotten

“Brother!” Stan calls and walks towards Ford. Ford unexpectedly punches him in the face and begins arguing with him.

She takes a step forward and calls Ford’s name. He looks over at her and his face turns to disbelief, and he lets go of Stan.

He whispers her name. “Is it really you?” All she can do is nod and she runs forwards to hug him. He lifts her and spends her around. “I can’t believe it.” He sets her down and moves his hands to cup her face to pull her up for a kiss. “It really is you.”

Their tender moment was interrupted by Mabel.

She pulls away from Ford, red in the face, having forgotten the kids and Soos were even down here.

Ford is introduced to Mabel, then Dipper who freaks out. He spouts off about how he has so many questions and mentions how he can’t believe you’re married to the author of the journals.

She sits and listens to their whole ‘mysterious backstory’ as Mabel calls it. Enjoying hearing the story from both sides. After the whole situation was over Stan sent the kids off to bed.

She walked them upstairs to give the brothers some time alone to talk. Dipper bombarded her with questions that she happily answered. “No more secrets from me, promise.” She used her finger to cross her heart.

She tucked Dipper into bed then Mabel. “Thank you, Mable.” She smiled sweetly as Mabel looked confused.

“For what?” Mabel askes.

“You said you’d find me a boyfriend by the end of the summer, and if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have my boyfriend back.” She smiles as Mabel's eyes grow wide, as does her smile.

“Thank you too, Dipper. If you had never found the journal we wouldn’t have been able to get him back either. I’ll make sure you get to ask him plenty of questions soon, alright?” She promised and wished them a goodnight.

She comes back down the stairs to see the two brothers arguing and frowns as Stan storms away from him. Walking up to Ford she wraps her arms around him and he does the same. She breathes a sigh of relief.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she whispers.

“I’ve missed you too, more than I can say with words.” He leans down to kiss her forehead.

“Let’s go to sleep.” She takes his hand and starts walking to the bed room.

He turns to go into his old room but she stops him. “There’s no bed in there anymore. When I, um, we lost you, it was too painful to stay in there alone.”

He nods in understanding and follows her to her room. She closes the door behind her and he pulls her into another hug. “Did you really wait for me? For thirty years?”

“Oh course I did, Stanford.” She looks up at him concerned.

“It’s just that, you could have started a new life. You could have had a family.” His face is sad, almost guilty.

“I didn’t want to, Ford. Not without you.” She brought her hand to show him the ring he gave her. “You’re my family.”

He only nods before leaning down to kiss her. She leans into the kiss but feels tears begin to fall from her eyes, overwhelmed with emotions. Pulling away she wipes her cheeks, but sees that Ford is crying as well. They lock eyes and laugh, both wiping at their tears.

“We’ve both had a very emotional day. Let’s go to sleep.” She walks over to the dresser and digs around for a moment. “These are yours.” She states. “I’m not sure they’ll still fit though you look… More built.” She smirks.

He takes the clothes from her and watches and she begins to change into her night shirt. His eyes can’t pull away as she pulls her shirt over her head. She’s still as beautiful as the day he disappeared, but her body is different. It’s softer, with more age lines, but he feels awestruck by her beauty.

“Ford, you’re staring.” She looks embarrassed. “I know I’m not as young and fit as I was but-”

“You’re absolutely stunning. You look different, but in the most amazing way possible.” He assures her.

She nodded and finished changing. Her face turned mischievous as she looked at him. “Now it’s my turn to watch.”

He can’t help the heat that rises to his cheeks. “Uh, right.” He sits down and takes off his boots, and stands to remove his sweater. “Listen, I… The dimensions I visited weren't always friendly. I have some scars.”

“Ford, it’s alright. I expected as much.” She lays a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

She thought he would have scars, but didn't expect so many. “Oh, Ford.” She whimpers.

Almost his entire torso is covered in scars. She lays a hand over his peck and runs her fingers over one long scar. He sighs at her touch. “I’m so sorry,” she sniffs.

He takes her hand from his chest and raises it to his lips to kiss it. “Don’t think too much of it. For every hostile being I meet, there were just as many friendly ones who helped patch me up.” He slips his shirt on over his head, finding it just a little tight, but would work for the night.

She climbs into bed, with Ford right behind her, and snuggles close to him. He wraps his arms around her and holds her tight. “I love you, goodnight.”

“I love you, Ford. I’m so glad you’re back.” She yawns before falling asleep.

He wakes up from a nightmare and looks around the room. Although a little unfamiliar he knows he’s home. Looking at his side he sees his love gone from his side. His heart still beating fast from his dream he starts to panic, and calls her name.

Right as he does she walks back into the room and closes the door. “What’s wrong?” She quickly makes her way over to him. “I’m sorry, I was just in the bathroom. Are you alright?” Sitting back on the bed she pulls him close to her.

He sighs at the touch. “Just a bad dream is all. Have them quite frequently.”

“You can always wake me up, okay?” She coos, and kisses him on the shoulder. “Can you go back to sleep or do you need to stay up for a minute?”

He can’t help as a yawn escapes him. “I can sleep.”

They cuddle back together, but she stays awake until she is sure he’s asleep.

When she wakes up the sun is shining in through the curtains. She can feel the even breaths Ford is breathing under her cheek.

She shifts her head to look up at his sleeping face. Examining all the details that are the same, and how it’s changed. He still has a strong jawline, if not stronger. The hair on his head is graying, much like hers, and he has wrinkles under and beside his eyes.

She cant help herself from reaching up and running her hand across the stubble on his jaw. His eyes are still closed but he smiles.

He takes her hand and kisses it. “Good morning.”

She responds by moving off his chest up to his mouth to kiss him. “It’s a very good morning.” He kisses her back. “Maybe the best morning ever.”

He chuckles and she can feel his chest rumble under her hand. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Running her thumb over his stubble she smiles. “I can’t believe you got more handsome.” Ford’s cheeks turn red and he looks away. She laughs. “I see you’re still just as bashful.”

“I was just thinking the same thing about you.” He pulls her into another kiss, then another, and another. Sitting up, he pulls her into his lap. Now it’s her turn to blush.

There’s a knock on the door and Mabel’s voice sounds from the other side. She calls her name, but adds ‘Graunt’ in front of it. “Grunkle Stan is taking us to the diner! He said if you wanna come be in the car in five minutes or we’re leaving you!” Then her footsteps are heard running down the stairs.

Ford looks down at the woman in his lap. Her hand is held over her mouth, but he can see the impossibly wide smile behind it. “She called me her graunt…” Her heart feels so impossibly full from the simple word.

“Well you technically are.” Ford chuckles. “That seems to mean a lot to you. You must really care for those two.”

She nods. “Ford, they are such incredible kids. I’m excited for you to get to know them more. Dipper reminds me so much of you.” Ford frowns, and it doesn’t go unnoticed. “What’s wrong?”

“When Stan and I were talking last night, well, it was more of arguing, he told me he wanted me to stay away from the kids. I agreed. I also told him he can stay here until the end of the summer with the kids, but after he has to leave, and all this Mystery Shack nonsense ends.” He informs her.

“I, but Ford…” She was unsure what to say. It all seemed so unfair, so she decided to tell him. “That seems unfair to me.” She moved to sit on her knees next to him and took his hand in hers. “I might be being selfish but I just got you back, and now you want Stan to leave? We worked so hard to bring you back, Ford, and while you were gone Stan took care of me.” She sighs. “I, Ford, I was ready to give up but he wouldn’t let me. The only reason he opened the shack was to get money. I was spending every second of every day in the basement. Stan made sure I ate, and slept. He made sure I was taken care of.”

Ford scans her face. “Were you two…” He can’t finish his thought, but she gets what he means.

She can’t help but laugh. “Ford, you’re brother and I were nothing more than friends.” She thinks for a second. “We kissed once and it was terrible,” she laughs again. “But beside you, Ford, he’s my best friend, and your brother. All I’m asking is that you just think about reconsidering.”

His face is stern but he nods. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I ask.” She kisses him. There’s a squeal of car tires from outside signaling Stan and the kids are gone. “So how would you like to spend the rest of the morning?” She smirks.

“Well, I’d like to check on the portal, and my experiments.” He says thinking aloud.

She laughs and moves to straddle his lap, moving her hands to his chest, and kissing his collar bone. “I was thinking we could make up for lost time.”

“I like that idea much more.” He pulls her close.

----------

It’s midday when they make their way down into the lab. As Stan requested, Ford avoids the kids.

They stand in front of the portal.

“This was such a risky move.” He says without thinking.

“It was a risk I had to take.” She doesn’t apologize.

“I’m…” he wraps her in a hug. “I appreciate you getting me home, I really do. I thought I’d never see you again. However,” he looks back up at the portal. “We have to destroy this.”

She agrees and they get to work.

They have the portal about halfway deconstructed when one of the higher up panels starts to sway. Ford notices it moving and looks up, right as it breaks away and begins to fall. She is standing right below it.

“Watch out!” Ford dives towards her and pushes her out of the way, the metal panel making contact directly with his head and he falls to the ground motionless.

“Ford?” A small pool of blood has begun collecting around his head. “Oh my god Ford!” She yells and shakes his shoulder to stir him.

Tears begin to form in her eyes right as he opens his eyes. He looks at her and smiles.

“Ford?” She asks again.

He sits up and grabs his head. “Are you alright?” He asks.

She looks at him in disbelief before moving to check where his head is wounded. “Are you insane? I’m fine, you’re the one who's bleeding!”

“Hey, hey!” He takes her face in his hands forcing her to make eye contact. “I’m alright really, look.” Ford knocks on his head next to where he’s bleeding and there is a loud metallic banging.

She’s still looking at his eyes wide with confusion.

“A had a metal plate installed in my head that way Bill could never enter my mind again. It’s just a little cut, promise I’m alright.” He brushes a tear away from her cheek.

“God, Ford,” she sniffs. “I just got you back. I thought I was going to lose you again.” She pulls him in for a hug, not worrying about the blood that seeps down onto her sleeve.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He jokes and she lightly smacks his shoulder.

She pulls away from the hug to give him a passionate kiss, which he is happy to return.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” She takes his hand and pulls him up. His balance wavers and he grabs onto her shoulder. She helps him sit down in a chair and hurries back with the first aid kit, which she always made sure was well stocked with how much Stan hurt himself.

She begins cleaning his head wound. “You really have to be more careful.” She can’t help but scold him. One hand holds his cheek steady, he doesn’t move and Ford leans into her touch.

“I’d rather I get hurt over you anyday.” He doesn’t apologize.

“I just got you back.” She sighs.

Ford brings his hand up to caress one on his cheek. “I just got you back as well.” He reminds her.

She pauses, not having really thought of it that way, then continues cleaning his wound. “I guess even after all this time we are both just as hard headed.”

When she's done stitching his cut shut she kisses the top of his head for good measure. “There, that should be good as long as you don’t take any more metal panels to the head.”

He beams up at her. “How did you get so good at that?”

“Stan hurt himself a lot while we were working on the portal. I got used to stitching him up since it was faster and cheaper than going to the hospital every other day.” She gives him a sad smile. “Although you were a lot less whiny than Stan normally is.”

He hums in thought. “Maybe taking a break from the portal for a minute would be a good idea.”

“I agree. I’m going to go change out of this bloody shirt first.” She motions down at her blood soaked sleeve.

He grabs her arm as she begins to walk away. She can see the uncertainty on his face. Leaning down she places a gentle kiss to his lips.

“I’m only going upstairs. I won’t be far.” She looks into his eyes and he nods. “Plus I'm sure you brought back some experiments you need to check on.

She makes her way upstairs and almost makes it to her room before she bumps into Stan.

“Geez, kid, watch where you’re-” He stops talking and grimaces at the blood on her sleeve.”

She looks down and realizes what the problem is. “Oh, don’t worry it’s not mine.”

Stan’s face doesn’t look any less concerned.

“Ford’s fine too, just a little accident. You know how it goes.” She can’t help but laugh.

Stan grumbles something then walks away. An unusually harsh treatment from her normally warm best friend. She brushes it off though and quickly changes. When She’s back downstairs she finds everyone hanging out in the gift shop.

She greets them but only Mable acknowledges her. Stan’s head shoved deep in a newspaper and Dipper’s in Ford’s journal. There’s a moment of silence before Ford bursts out of his lab with a weird octopus-like creature stuck to his arm.

She tries to keep Dipper and Mable behind her for safety but they both peer around her eager to see their new Grunkle. Ford captures the creature easily enough and starts to head back to the lab, but Dipper’s right on his trail offering to help.

Ford turns down his offer before closing the door. Stan gives Dipper a lecture about staying away from Ford.

Dipper points at his newly titled Graunt. “But she gets to spend time with him and do dangerous stuff.”

She frowns. “Dipper, I’m an adult and have been doing this for a long time.”

“You’re still going to watch the season finale of Duck-Tective with us Friday, right?” Mabel checks.

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

The next week is spent helping Ford disassemble the portal and helping Stan with the shack. She getting ready for bed when Ford comes into the room beaming and gabbing about playing DD&MD that day.

She smiles and sits on the bed. “I’m glad you're spending time with him. He reminds me so much of you.” her smile falls for a second. “But didn’t Stan ask you to stay away from the kids?”

Ford is taking his boots off and he freezes and thinks. “Stan will just have to get over himself.”

She sighs and lays back onto the bed. “I know you and Stan didn’t have the best relationship before you went into the portal, and I knew it wouldn’t be magically fixed when we got you back, but I did hope it would be a little bit better.” She feels the bed shift as Ford sits next to her.

“Mine and Stan’s relationship has been complicated for a long time. Him bringing me back isn’t going to fix it overnight.” He places his hand on hers.

“I know but,” she sits up with a huff. “I feel like neither of you are trying. When summer ends I don’t want to lose my best friend. Stan means a lot to me, and he’s your brother. I wish you would both just try.

Ford looks almost mad for a second before his face softens. “Come here.” He pulls her into his lap. “For you, I’ll try. Promise… Well… I’ll at least try to be civil.”

She looks at him with a pout before she buries her head in the crook of his neck. “Fine.” She whines with a yawn.

The next day she's ready to watch the season finale of Duck-Tective with Mabel, Stan, and Grenda. She smiles to see Ford is sitting cross legged on the ground playing DD&MD just like they did in college and spending time with his great nephew. However her smile fades when Stan and Ford begin to argue. The argument turns for the worst when Stan throw Ford’s bag on dice on to the ground and causes them to scatter. Then they have to go on a ridiculous fantastic quest to save Dipper and Ford.

Afterwards Stan apologizes to Dipper and it warms her heart. He even says it's okay if Dipper spends time with Ford. She was a little disappointed Ford didn’t join them to watch Their show but she understood. After it was over Dipper went to find Ford.

She sat at the table with Stan to have a drink.

“You were very sweet today.” She almost teases Stan.

“Think you got me mistaken with someone else.” Stan grunts as he sits.

“No, the fact you changed your mind to let Dipper spend time with Ford is really sweet. I don’t think I have to tell you how similar they are. Plus I think it’ll be nice that Dipper can ask him questions himself instead of him asking me to ask Ford questions.” She smiles over her glass at Stan.

Stan frowns deepens. “Didn’t do it for Ford. Did it for Dipper. Ford still hasn’t told me thank you, and I haven’t forgotten.”

She groans. “Why do you two have to be like this?!” She almost shouts. “You’re both so stubborn and hard headed. If you two could just sit down and talk about your feelings like real adults I don’t think we’d have a problem.”

“Not until he tells me thank you!” Stan raises his voice back.

She slams her hand on the table and stands up. “He hasn’t even told me thank you, Stan! He’s appreciative to be home but he’s still upset we risked this whole universe for him!”

Stan stands up and opens his mouth to say something but closes it. He is absolutely fuming as he storms away from you.

She stands there for a second more before sitting back down with her face in her hands. Quiet tears fall down her face and she cries alone for a few minutes. Then she feels a hand on her back.

“Darling, are you crying? What’s wrong?” Ford’s warm, wide hand begins to stroke reassuring circles on her back.

She wraps her arms around his neck and brings him in for a hug. “I’ve just had a lot of big emotions this week. Think they’ve finally caught back up to me at once.” She’s not lying, she's had a lot of emotions to work through this week, but she doesn’t want to mention arguing with Stan. It would just make everything worse.

“Why don’t we get you to bed.” Ford suggests and she nods silently.

She tries to stand, but before she can Ford picks her up bridal style bringing a smile to her face. “Ford, I can walk.”

He kisses her forehead. “I know. But you’ve done so much for me, let me?” He wants to be sure it’s okay. She nods and falls asleep in his arms before they reach their room.

----------

Ford sits up from a nightmare which draws her from her sleep as well. Before she can even ask what’s wrong he tells her.

“We have to warn them. He’s coming.”

----------

“You gave her what?” She shouts at Ford once he tells her about his meeting with Dipper and Mable.

“Was that… was that bad?” Ford’s face flushes red.

“Stanford you gave a twelve year old a crossbow!” She stares at him in disbelief. “Would you or Stanley have been able to use one at twelve?”

Ford thinks for a second and opens his mouth and thinks better of it.

She sighs. “I’ll just go with them to make sure they’re safe.” She srumbles together her things and tosses on a bag. She's about to walk out the door without saying anything when Ford grabs her arm.

“Let’s not part ways angry.” His eyes look over her face and he looks so unbelievably caring.

She sighs and pulls him into a kiss. “I’m not angry, I’m just worried about Mabel. She sometimes doesn't have the best judgment of character. Did I tell you she dated the gnomes at the beginning of summer?”

He laughs against her lips. “I understand you’re worried.” He pauses and thinks for a moment. “I’m worried too. Last time I encountered Bill he drove me away from you. I can’t let that happen again.”

She gives him another kiss. “I know you won’t.”

Later she returns with the girls to the shack, beaten and bruised.

Ford gives her a kiss and congratulates them on getting the unicorn hair. Dipper helps them glue the unicorn hair to the outside of the shack. Ford wraps his arm around her shoulder and she can’t but feel a little bit safer.

----------

She stares at the rift. “Ford it’s….”

He sighs and places his hand on her shoulder. “I’m aware.”

“You didn’t tell me?” She looks at him hurt.

“I didn’t keep it from you to keep it secret. I just didn’t want you to worry.” He sighs.

“But I could help. Ford I just got you back and now it feels like the world is about to end. I can’t lose you again.” He places her hand on top of his.

“Nor I you.” He looks in her eyes then looks away and clears his throat. “I was hoping that, um…” Ford searches his brain for the right words.

“Ford you know I’ll do anything for you, just ask.” She smiles sweetly at him.

“Well, I don’t need you to do anything for me. I was just hoping you’d do something with me.” He wraps his arms around her and rests his forehead on her. “When all this nonsense with Bill is done, I’d really like to finally marry you.”

She laughs. She cannot help it, but she laughs. Ford looks almost hurt. Her hands come up to cup her face and bring him in for a kiss. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. I just can't believe you were worried about asking me that. I’ve waited thirty year for you, of course I’m going to marry you.”

He smiles against her lips before bringing her back in for another kiss. “I’m the luckiest man alive to have you for a wife.”

“I’m the luckiest woman alive.”

----------

She runs after Mabel as soon as she runs from the shack, but by the time she reaches her, Bill has already been released into reality.

“Mabel no!” She screams as she watches the small girl suspended in the air as she gets wrapped in a bubble and chains and flown away.

“Well, well, well, well, well, well, well. Look what we have here! If it isn’t peace sign herself!” A voice behind her booms.

She turns around, already sure of who the voice belongs to. “Bill.”

“In the flesh!” He confirms as the yellow on his triangle opens and closes, revealing flesh and bones.

She turns and tries to run back to the shack, but is stopped as she is suspended in the air.

“Not so fast peace sign! I think you’d be a useful pawn against my dear friend six fingers!” Bill snaps his fingers and she is encased in a bubble similar to the one that carried Mabel away. “Can't have anything happening to you!” The bubble begins to move and flies to Bill’s Fearamid.

Bill keeps her behind bars. She sits and watches helplessly as people she knows from town are brought in one by one, turned to stone, and placed on Bill’s throne. She silently wishes Bill would have done the same to her, to spare her the awful reality in which she has to witness all this awful weirdness. But she knows that’s probably exactly why Bill didn’t turn her to stone, to make her suffer.

She won’t give up hope yet. She knows as long as Ford is out there fighting, there is still hope. That hope is quickly shattered as she watches Bill set Ford by his throne.

“Hey peace sign! Like my new back scratcher?!” He cackles at her anguished face. “The extra finger really adds to the scratch!”

She pulls her knees to her chest and quietly cries.

By the fourth day she can’t cry anymore, her head aches, her eyes are red and puffy, and she wishes she could sleep more than five minutes. The blaring music she had gotten used to, but the second one of Bill’s minions noticed she was asleep, they'd come over and smack the bars of her cage and wake her up.

---------

Stan is extremely relieved when the kids barge back into the shack. After he greets everyone he looks at the door expectantly.

“Are Fords and-” He tries to say but Dipper knows what he's going to ask.

“I know for a fact Bill has Grunkle Ford, but as for…” Dipper trails off.

They begin to argue a course of action and the other townspeople when Stan accidentally turns on the television. Every person and creature in the shack is brought to the reality that the people of Gravity Falls are being turned into stone, then the camera pans over to show their friend and Graunt.

She is behind bars and looks absolutely worn down.

Mabel and Dipper begin to hype everyone up to band together, but Stan is fast to voice his opinion against it.

“Grunkle Stan how can you say that?” Mabel pouts. “Bill has your best friend and brother. Are you just going to sit her while she suffers?”

Stan watches as everyone begins to form a plan.

----------

“Everyone has a weakness though guy, I’ll make you talk.” Bill threatens Ford at the top of the Fearamid. Ford is placed in chains.

Bill snaps and Ford watches in horror as his fiance appears next to the triangular menace.

“Don’t listen to him, Ford. I’m fine, don’t-” a rope comes up and wraps around her body and mouth.

“No!” Ford lets out an anguished scream. “Let her go, she has nothing to do with this.”

“Oh, Fordsie! Did you forget all the time we spent together? I’ve been in that silly little brain of yours, and I know how much she consumes your every thought! Did you forget who it was that showed you where the ufo was so you could propose to her there?! I know with her by my side I can get you to do what I want! Or maybe…”

Bill draws her close to his eye and looks closely at her. “If you know how to bring down the barrier she must know too! I’ll get one of you to talk for sure!”

----------

She watches in horror as Bill begins electrocuting Ford, knowing she would be next.

“If only one of you would talk, then you wouldn’t have to watch the love of your life torchered!” Bill cackles boisterously.

There’s a loud crash as the Mystery Shack crashes through one of the walls. She looks at Ford with hope on her face. Until Bill realizes maybe if he tortured the kids he could get Ford or her to talk, they both begin to yell before being turned to stone.

Her vision returns to her and she looks around to see everyone back to their normal selves. Ford takes her hand and pulls her to the kids where they share in a group hug.

Ford’s taken aback when he sees his old friend Fiddleford. She feels bad never having gotten around to telling Ford what happened to him. They share in a few heartfelt words and a hug before Dipper brings everyone's attention back to the fact that Bill is outside.

“Drawing a circle on the floor. Well. he’s lost his mind.” Stan shouts.

She lays a hand on Stan’s arm. “Trust him. Please.” Her smile is tired, and she looks so weak compared to the normal strong woman Stan was sued to seeing.

Ford explains the meaning of the symbol on the floor, and everyone begins taking their places.

“The peace sign.” Ford smiles fondly as she takes your place between him and Stan’s symbol.

Everyone takes hands and the ground begins to shake. She reaches her hand out towards Stan.

Stan begins to argue and everyone pleads him to join the circle.

“Stan, please.” She begs her friend.

“Fine, just do one thing, say thank you.” Stan says.

Her heart drops to her stomach. She knew both brothers were too proud and now wasn’t the time for this.

“What?” Ford gawks.

“We spent thirty years trying to bring you back and you couldn’t even tell me or your girlfriend, not wife, thank you!?” Stan barks.

She felt tears begin to prick her eyes. There was no need for Stan to add that she wasn’t his wife yet. She knew he was angry and being petty but it hurt.

“Now’s not the time, Stan.” She scowled, blinking back tears.

“Fine. Thank you.” Ford begrudgingly says and Stan takes his hand. It looks like for a second it might be working, until Stan begins to fight with his brother and breaks the circle.

“You two stop!” She shouts.

But it’s too late. Bill has arrived. He takes Stan, Ford, and her into his grasp and everyone gets ready to fight. Bill snaps his fingers but everyone but the twins levitates and disappears. The young twins are entrapped in a cage.

“Last chance: Tell me how to take Weirdmageddon global and I’ll spare the kids!” Bill threatens.

Mabel yells at him and gets his attention before spraying him in his eye with spray paint, causing his grip on the three to disappear. The kids free themselves and order them to run. The kids run off and they try to follow but Bill traps the three of them in another cage.

All she can do is sit beside Ford as he and his brother share a moment. Ford finally stands and states his idea of letting Bill inside his head.

“You can’t do that to Ford.” She grabs his hand.

“I’ll,” She chokes on her words. “I’ll let him inside my mind and you can erase him.” She's scared. She's so extremely scared to lose everything important to her, but she’s more afraid of losing Dipper and Mabel.

The brothers share a look. “Absolutely not.” They say at the same time.

“But, but,” She whimpers.

“What if…” Stan states his plan, and she's against it. She’d rather take the sacrifice but she knows neither of them would let her. So she watches helplessly as the two exchange clothes.

Stan brings her into a hug. “You’ve really made my life worth living, kid.”

She hugs him as tight as she can. “Don’t talk like this is goodbye, because it’s not.” She kisses his cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Stan reminds her, he shares a quick glance and hug from his brother, then they wait.

Everything that happens next happens in a blur. Stan, dressed as Ford, agrees to help Bill and steps towards him and Ford and her and are held in bonds again. Dipper screams for Ford to stop. Her vision blurs with tears.

As soon as Bill enters Stan’s mind she kneels down and draws both of the twins close to her and watches helplessly as Ford erases Stanley’s mind.

Everything returns to the normal state it should be. Mabel rushes to Stan's side and begins to praise him, but quickly she has to be pulled back.

She pulls Mabel into a tight hug as Ford explains what happened. They all cry, then they head back to the remains of the shack. The twins hold Stan’s hands.

Her hand is held tight in Ford’s, he holds her hand back equally as tight.

They stand awkwardly in front of Stan as he sits in his chair. Mabel refuses to accept Stan is gone and begins showing him her scrapbook from the summer. To everyone's surprise, it actually starts to work. They all gather around his chair while she reads.

-----------

It’s a few days later and Stan has recovered a lot of his memory. He’s not exactly himself yet but he is on the road to recovery.

It’s late in the afternoon and she’s outside repairing the steps up to the shack when Stan finds her. She greets him with a bright smile.

“Stanley!” She beams. “How are you feeling?” She takes a break from her work and sits down.

“Hey, kid. I’m feeling pretty good.” He smiles back and sits beside her. Then he begins to rub the back of his neck.

“What’s on your mind?” She places a hand on his shoulder.

“How’d ya know?”

“You always rub your neck like that when somethings on your mind.” She reminds him.

He pulls him hand down into his lap and sighs. “Listen, I feel like before I wasn’t the best at expressing my emotions, and when I fully recover I’m probably going to be the same again.” He thinks for a second. “I wanted to let you know that besides Ford, you’re the most important person in my life. You’re my best friend and you’ve been with me through everything, despite what an ass I can be a lot of the time. I wanted to say, ya know, thanks, and I love you.”

Stan can’t look at her face to see her reaction because she pulls him into the tightest bear hug. “I know, but it feels good to hear you say it. You’re my best friend too. If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have Ford back.” She pulls back from the hug and sits.

“And another thing… I remember when we were all taking hands back during,” he waves his hand, “Ya know… I pointed out you weren’t married to Ford yet. I did it just to hurt your feelings. I was mad that you were okay he hadn’t said thank you to us yet. You’ve always been more level headed than me, more of a peacekeeper.”

She laughs. “I guess that’s why I was the peace sign.” She jokingly throws up a peace sign with her hands. “Joking aside though, all is forgiven Stanley. I could never stay mad at you. It means a lot to hear you talk like this. I know in a few days you won’t want to have conversations like this, so it’s nice, ya know?” The two of them sit in silence as the clouds pass overhead.

----------

Miraculously the Mystery Shack is back in one piece in just a week. Just in time for Dipper and Mabel’s birthday. Ford pulls Stan aside to tell him his plan to sail around the world.

She and Ford had discussed it beforehand, and she understood the boys needed some time alone to bond. She’d be happy waiting for them both to return back home.

“What are you crazy?” Stan playfully shoved his brother. “She’s not invited?”

“Well, no, we had discussed it beforehand and she thought it would be a good idea for us to have some time to bond. As brothers. I’ll miss her of course, but-”

Stan cut his twin off. “No buts! She waited thirty year for you. I say we bring her.”

Ford laughs. “I’m happy to hear you say that. As long as she wants to be stuck in a small boat with two old men I’d be happy to bring her.”

“You do realise she is as old as us right?” Stan calls her over to where the two are talking.

Ford wraps his arm around her waist and she smiles. “Did you tell him your plan?” She beams up at him.

“I did, however,” Ford frowns, and she frowns too. She looks to Stanley for explanation.

“You must be out of your mind if you think you’re not coming with us.” Stan smirks.

“But I thought…” She looks up at Ford.

“It was Stanley’s idea, and it’s fine by me. Actually more than fine by me, lovely even.” Ford leans down to give her a kiss.

“We’re family, so I think it’d be stupid to make you wait here alone for the both of us. So you coming or what?” Stan’s smile is wide and genuine.

She lets go of Ford to pull Stan into a crushing hug. “Thank you, Stan.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Stan rolls his eyes.

Her hand reaches back towards Ford. “Get over here, I need to hug you both.” Ford chuckles but compiles.

Stan surprises everyone by announcing the closure of the Mystery Shack before giving Soos permission to run it.

She keeps close to Ford’s side as they wait for the bus to take the kids back home. Mabel grabs her hand and pulls her down to her level. “You’re the best Graunt in the whole world.”

She hugs Mabel tight and closes her eyes to stop the tears from spilling from her eyes. “You’re the best great niece and match maker in the world. Thank you for getting Ford back for me.”

Stan and Ford threaten the bus driver to let Waddles on. They all wave goodbye and run after the bus, cheering farewells.

Ford holds her close with one arm while the other wraps reassuringly around his brother. “They’ll be back next summer. Until then, let’s have an adventure.”

[brockadoodles]

Let me tell you that I love you (4 +1) - b. boeser

AN: Burn this gif onto my grave honestly. BUT ANYWAYS. Uh decided to write during the Canucks game just in case they gave me pain. And they didn’t, and I finished something. A short sweet little 4+1 for you all. I haven’t written one of these in forever, so i really tried to keep each snippet short. Let me know what you think :)

Word Count: 3433

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol briefly 

One 

Brock Boeser was an irremediable fucking romantic. He was the guy who was always more than willing to cozy up on a rainy day with a tragic Nicholas Sparks-esque movie on in the background, never shy at admitting that something as achingly faux romantic as The Notebook could make him weep. He was the guy that all of the cliches were written about, the over sensitive Pisces who stitched his heart on the inside of his left sleeve, ready and eager to give it to someone. That someone, the one who he wanted to give his entire soul to over the last year had become you. 

You were someone he had met by accident, a romantic comedy worthy moment where you both had bonded helplessly at some overly fancy bar where you both had been stood up on dates. He felt stiff in his suit jacket, and you were there in that beautiful navy piece that had him wondering how the stars and planets had aligned in such a way that he was lucky enough to be half enjoying a drink next to you. You had smiled at him, opening the gates for a shitty date turned into a memory he couldn’t wait to tell the story of in twenty five years. One chance meeting had become a date, and more dates after that until over the summer he was bringing you home to meet his parents, where he told you that he loved you for the first time. 

Brock was nervous to take you home but it wasn’t because there was an underlying fear that his family wouldn’t see all of the things in you that he did. He was apprehensive because he knew the backstory of his own life was enough baggage to send someone away, and it had. He had gone through this before, bringing someone home who didn’t want to bear the burden of what life with Brock Boeser actually meant and that loss had shaped his perspective on relationships. Bringing you home was hard, because he wanted so desperately for this to work out, and if you couldn’t take on that baggage, he knew that it wouldn’t. 

Brock felt like he had that nervousness in his chest and stomach for the whole first twenty four hours that you were there. You had flown in late, settling into bed and falling right to sleep next to him. You always found a way to sleep, whereas he was consciously restless late into the witching hour, anxious about the next day where you would be actually meeting his family for the first time. 

He had spent so long waiting for the other shoe to drop, that when you got along seamlessly with his dad, he was still uncontrollably on edge. He was watching wordlessly as you sat out on the porch with Duke, a smile on your face as you listened to him, nodding and responding with Easton comfortably playing in your lap. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned, seeing his mom with a comforting expression on her face.

“She’s great, Brock. Stop waiting for the bad.” She murmured. Brock turned back to look outside, where you were just reaching a hand to his dad’s wrist and laughing. He felt like the air was exhaling from his lungs the longer he let his mom’s words marinate in his mind. Brock opened the slider door and stepped outside, slowly walking over and pressing a soft kiss to his dad’s cheek, who in return patted his hand reassuringly. He then moved to you, settling into the wicker chair next to you and letting you hand over his nephew who was now reaching for him. As you handed Easton over, it was like everything clicked into place for him. This was what he wanted one day with you, passing over your own child with the sun setting over the lake and family all around. That was the first time he realized that he had finally figured out what love meant, because the feeling struck him harshly. He loved you, and instead of overthinking the feeling, he told you.

“I love you.” He murmured, softly enough that only you could hear it. Your eyes widened and your mouth hung open as if he could see every thought that was stampeding through your mind. He recoiled a bit, diverting his eyes from yours and swallowing back the feelings he had just let escape without thinking about the consequences. You smiled awkwardly, grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers together. You brought his hand to your lips and pressed a soft kiss to it, your non verbal way of not reciprocating. It wasn’t until you were alone that you explained to him you just weren’t ready yet, a conversation that felt like a punch to his gut but that he bore with patience and understanding. He pressed a soft kiss to your temple after, reassuring you that he understood what you were saying. You didn’t not love him, you just weren’t there yet, something he could have the patience to wait for. 

Two

The second time that Brock shared with you that he loved you was by accident. It was a classic case of drunk words revealing sober thoughts. Not that his love for you was a secret that he was trying to keep, but instead it was a closely locked away feeling that he was trying to wait to share again until you gave him the go ahead. The wait had been eating him up inside, a small sense of rejection had made a home out of his heart after telling you the first time didn’t go how he envisioned. He loved you, he was so beyond in love with you that he wished for nothing more than to be able to tell you that every second of every day. But you weren’t ready, and his sober self knew that, his wine drunk self, did not.  

It was your birthday and Vancouver had blessed (or cursed, according to most of the people that lived there) you with a dusting of snow. It was nowhere near what Brock was used to from growing up in Minnesota. He was used to long winters where the lake would be a solid sheet of ice that he and his buddies could spend their days skating on, with sometimes over a foot of snow on the ground. 

Vancouver snow was a different story. The small amount was enough to close businesses early, and cause the city to almost shut down until the snow was gone. The mere 5 inches was a lot to people in the pacific northwest, so he watched you with a fond expression as you dragged him down to the park that was near his condo, a pom pom beanie on your head and one of his jackets wrapped around you. 

You both had knocked back almost two bottles of wine, and there was a hazy aura surrounding you as he watched you twirl around with your arms out, catching snowflakes in your hair. Brock grabbed your hand and pulled you into his chest, kissing your forehead and then your nose and cheeks that were cold from the snow. 

“What are you doing?” You giggled, bringing your hand up to rest on his cheek as he looked at you. God, you were his entire fucking world, and once again he didn’t think before opening the box to that thought he had buried in his heart from the summer, the words slipping from his lips before any sense of sobriety could catch up to him. 

“I love you.” He whispered, a soft smile tugging at his lips and his eyes searching yours, hoping for a different outcome than the first time just a few months prior. You stepped back from him, bracing your hands on his arms and shifting your gaze away, something that sobered him up completely. 

“I’m not ready.” You mumbled, a sad expression behind your eyes that Brock wished wasn’t there. He tugged you closer into his chest, another soft kiss to your temple as he ran a hand along your back.

“Take as long as you need.” Brock reassured you, more than willing to live by that promise. You were worth any wait that he had to endure.  

Three 

Playoffs were Brock’s favorite part of his job. The rush of the do-or-die series was something that every player loved. He felt like playoffs were the time where his real skills came into view, where he stood on his own as a talented forward instead of in the shadows wondering where his place was. It wasn’t that Brock was insecure per say, he just always felt like he had something to prove, mainly to himself. The Canucks had battled through all of the rounds, knocking out their opponents, leading them here to the Western Conference Finals against Vegas. It was game seven, the last hurdle before playing for the cup, absolutely do-or-die for this season.  

It was everything Brock had been striving towards. It wasn’t a Stanley Cup, but god in that moment it may as well have felt like one. A game seven game winning goal, sending the team to the finals. Every year he had spent plagued with injuries, wondering if he would ever get back to that spot he had been at his rookie year, wondering if he’d ever actually feel like he deserved to be a part of that core that were the faces scattered on the outside of Rogers Arena. He nearly couldn't breathe as the puck passed by Marc Andre Fleury, hitting the back of the net and sounding off the familiar goal horn. Elias and JT were quick to pile on top of him, nearly knocking him backwards into the boards as the rest of the team ran out onto the ice. This was everything he had hoped for, a chance to play for the Stanley Cup and he was in tears knowing it was his goal that sent him there. 

After the game, all he wanted was to find you. He raced out of the locker room, past the press area where thankfully he still had twenty minutes before he needed to sit down for his interviews. He ran out into the tunnel, hair still slightly damp as he searched for you. It didn’t take him long to find you, you were standing near Holly. You turned to face him just as he rounded the corner into your line of view. He watched as you touched Holly’s arm, saying something to her that he wasn’t close enough to read on your lips. You nearly jogged up to him, jumping into his arms hard and sending him backwards as he braced for your impact. 

The two of you stood there for a moment, ignoring the entire commotion around you as some of his other teammates were cheering and coming out. He didn’t care about any of it, he cared about you. You were the one who was there for the worst season of his career, and sharing this win with you was almost more special than the win itself. You grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him hard, peppering kisses after. Brock took this as his moment, another moment where he could share with you just how he felt.

“I love you, I love you, holy shit, I fucking love you.” He mumbled against your lips. You froze slightly in his arms, hesitating before you crashed your lips back into his, hopefully distracting him from the uneasy feeling in your chest.

“I am so proud of you, Brock.” You whispered. He just looked at you and smiled, ignoring the slight feeling of letdown he felt at your lack of reciprocation. You weren’t ready, and he was okay with that. Instead of dwelling he just kissed you one last time to your lips and then your temple, holding you close before he went to answer questions from people he didn’t care to answer to before you all were going to celebrate. The Canucks didn’t win the cup that year, and his first thought after watching the Flyers rush out and hoist the coveted trophy was that maybe the disappointment would fade once he got home to you. 

Four

Brock Boeser was a fucking romantic, and there was nothing more romantic to him than a wedding. It didn’t matter how many he watched in movies, or attended as he got older and his friends and teammates started getting married. No matter who it was, there was something that calmed him about seeing two people so in love and committing to that for their lives. He always pictured his wedding, except it was only ever from his perspective. In his daydreams, he never saw someone walking down the aisle toward him, he only saw himself standing there with tears in his eyes and a smile on his face as he waited for whoever that person was to get to him. It wasn’t until he loved you that the perspective changed, and he saw himself looking at you walking toward him. 

It was Troy and Emma’s wedding, a small gathering just outside of the city and Brock was in a good mood all day. He was humming softly as he drove the two of you there, a smile permanently settled on his lips as the soft sounds of Kodaline came through the speakers of the car. He had one hand secured with yours in your lap and occasionally he glanced over at you, wondering how in the hell he got so lucky to still have you. 

The wedding was beautiful, Troy and Emma both cried softly as they went through their vows, cementing their relationship with that final first kiss as the small group of close friends and families sat in the gazebo in attendance. Brock held your hand the entire time, feeling his chest tighten when you reached up and kissed the back of it just as the vows were being shared. 

He loved weddings, but going to one with you had him tumbling back toward that locked away feeling in his chest. The romantic atmosphere clouded his judgement and dared it to come out for another time to share it with you. Brock made a mental note to stop getting ahead of himself, to stop planning out an entire future with you when you weren’t ready to even say you loved him yet. He tried to push the anxiety away, the feeling that maybe he was the one holding you back, maybe he was too sensitive or putting too much pressure on you to say it back, even though he had only let it slip less than a handful of times. He swore that sometimes he felt it. Sometimes you would look at him just long enough, with your lips pursed and the words sitting right there as he waited, but then you would falter and shake your head a bit, playing the moment off with a smile. He counted so many of those times and they were casting doubt into his chest that maybe he was there planning an entire future with someone who would never realistically be ready, no matter how hard he wanted you to be.  

You could tell that he was in his head, something about the way he was carrying himself through the day had you worried. You watched as his eyes wandered around the reception hall. He was watching everyone carefully and you knew him so well by now that it felt like you were almost inside his head with him. Only instead of letting you hear what was running through his mind, there was a locked door keeping you out. Brock shifted back to face you, grabbing your hand once more and helping you up.

“Dance with me?” He asked. Brock pulled you into his chest, wrapping an arm around your waist as he swayed slowly with you, not paying attention to much around him other than you. He was feeling grateful for a lot of things, grateful that he was able to share such a special day with some of his closest friends, grateful that now the picture of this with you was so clear in his mind, and grateful that you were there with him, dancing slowly around the room. Brock closed his eyes for a moment as you leaned your head into his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as he moved you around. He pictured all of it, the flower crown you’d probably wear, the smile on your face, and the tears in his own eyes that he would have watching as you came toward him. He pictured every last detail, a vivid dream that he was set on becoming a reality now. 

“I love you.” He hummed, letting his eyes open slowly as you lifted your head. You didn’t even have to say you weren’t ready this time, the slight shift of your eyes had unfortunately become something that Brock was learning all too well. He did what he always did though, he pressed a soft kiss to your temple and tucked the box of love back inside, sighing softly to himself and wishing that one day you’d take it.  

Plus One

Brock loved you in all the ways that he ever thought that he could love someone, down to each subtlety of your demeanor and personality. He loved the way you laughed at his bad jokes, the way that you were patient with his dad, and the way you cared so much about the health of the world. But he also loved the bad things, the little annoyances that came with navigating a relationship that was long distance part time, the way you’d sometimes leave a mess at his place, hitting a nerve after a tough loss, he loved all of those things because that’s what made you human and your relationship normal.

This morning wasn’t anything special, there was no event the previous night that had kept you out late. There was no celebration of any kind. You had come over for dinner and stayed, falling asleep tucked under his arm with Coolie and Milo snuggled at your feet. This no doubt was Brock’s favorite way to wake up, and he’d do it for a lifetime as soon as you’d let him. 

Brock always woke up before you, he was often an early riser and whenever you were there he found himself settling in and watching you sleep for just a few moments before he would slowly roll away from you to get up and make coffee. This morning was no different. His fingers drummed along your hip as your eyes fluttered open and his chest filled with the same feeling he only ever imagined existed in an alternate reality. You smiled softly and tucked yourself closer into his chest, a soft and groggy  good morning escaping from your lips. He didn’t have time to think about if you were on his page, he was already writing the rest of the book with you. 

“I love you.” He said. 

He supposed it was just another instance added to the shortlist in his mind of attempts at telling you he loved you. Brock was now zero for four, more than a strikeout on the scoreboard, but Brock was also patient, and didn’t mind a late bottom of the 9th inning comeback if it meant his love was finally reciprocated. He didn’t mind telling you he loved you, because he did, but a small part of his heart cracked each time you smiled and nodded in favor of saying those three words back that he’d do anything to hear. Each kiss to the temple after masking that crack in his chest that was widening, possibly too far to fill in with hope much longer. 

Except this time, your smile wasn’t forced. There wasn’t a nervousness behind your eyes, there was something else. You leaned into him, kissing him softly while your hand tugged at the ends of his hair. Something felt different in this kiss, a calm wave settling into his chest instead of the usual feeling that Brock felt from the previous times he shared this with you. You pulled back, smiling at him brightly. 

“I love you, too.” And those words that fell from your lips didn’t hold a flame to any of the hopeless romances he not so secretly liked to enjoy, he now had the real thing. 

[duuhrayliegh]

A Friend of Yours - pt. 3

pairing: bucky x reader

warnings: TFATWS SPOILERS!!!!!, language, canon lvl violence, soft!bucky, some suggestive content, it’s ten thousand words so i’m sure i missed something, just lmk and i’ll tag it accordingly babes.

word count: 10,246 (i may have gone a little overboard)

a/n: this is the last part, unless y’all want more. i’m rlly proud of myself w this series, granted MUCH of the content was already written for me, nonetheless, here you go. i hope y’all like it <3

read A Friend of Yours - pt. 1 and A Friend of Yours - pt. 2

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

check out my m.list here!

xoxo ray

The Wilson family house was adorable. Two stories with chipped blue paint on the walls and yellowing white on the columns. You had beat Sam there, so you decided to just look around for a few minutes before meeting Sarah and the boys. You walked out to the dock in front of their house, admiring the water, how still and calm it was. You were staring into the distance when you heard small footsteps from behind you.

“You know, it’s rude to sneak up on people.” You weren’t sure which boy it was, but you were trying to present a non-threatening front.

“You know, it’s rude to invite yourself onto someone else's property.” You were surprised when you heard Sam’s voice respond to you. Turning quickly to face the man with the confused expression. “I thought you wouldn’t come to the States because of the whole Enemy of it thing.” He walked away from you, gesturing for you to follow as he picked up your abandoned duffle. “He’s not here if that’s who you’re looking for.” You shook your head as you crossed the threshold into the living room.

“I’m not here for him, although he would be a much welcome bonus.” The two of you shared a laugh. “But no, I’m here to help you however I can.” Sam’s eyes narrowed, wondering if he should question your generosity. Your eyes must have given away your desperation for a home because he decided against it.

“Okay, but if you’re here, you’re gonna work. We’ve got a lot of shit to get done if we’re going to fix this boat up.”

“What boat?” You smiled at him as he began explaining what was going on. He just skimmed the top of what was really happening, but you could tell he was worried even though he wore a good facade.

“Get changed into some clothes you don’t mind getting messed up.”

“Am I going to be doing, like, manual labor?” He gave you a ‘duh’ look to which you groaned, “So, shorts are out of the question?” Sam had already walked into the kitchen before replying.

“Only if you want to freeze your ass off!” You changed quickly into a pair of ripped mom jeans that you cinched with a belt at your waist and a white short sleeved shirt.

“Do you have an overshirt I can borrow?”

“You mean, a flannel?” Sam shot back as he exited the room.

“Yeah, an overshirt.”

“No. A flannel. Come on, say it with me, flannel.” He tossed one your way, which you put on the rolled the sleeves up to your elbows.

“It’s an overshirt, Sam. I’m not seeing the issue.”

“Y/N, it's a flannel. Just say flannel, why you gotta make it all fancy?” He walked out the back door and onto a wooden bridge that led to the marina the boat was docked at. He didn’t let the flannel thing go the whole way over, making you laugh loudly and shake your head. As you walked up the dock, you could see several people helping Sarah and Sam with their boat.

“This is all you guys?” You were amazed, you hadn’t seen togetherness like this since before Aunt Peggy died. “Wow.” You said mostly to yourself as Sam walked you up to the woman of the hour.

“Sarah, we’ve got another one. Sarah, Y/N. Y/N, Sarah.” You stuck your hand out for Sarah to shake, which she did kindly. “I’m going to work on getting some of the siding off the boat. Sarah, Y/N is all yours.” He darted off, leaving you with Sarah.

“What ya got for me, Sarah? I’m here to do whatever you need.” She began instructing you to help with cataloging everything that people were bringing. Whether it be rusty spare parts or a couple twenty dollar bills, Sarah wanted to know and she wanted a record of it. A truck pulled up next to the boat and Sam got out hugging the men that exited it.

“Tommy, Carlos, man, this is amazing.” They exchanged a few more words before one of them asked the inevitable question.

“How do we get it off the truck?” A loud scraping sound emitted as the pallet was taken from the truck bed. Bucky lifted the bundle of parts over his head effortlessly, dropping it on the ground. He turned to the group of three men staring at him.

“You’re welcome.” You laughed as you approached. Bucky hauled a gray and black case onto the truck bed, speaking to Sam about it. Suddenly, one of the pipe fittings went out of whack, causing a steady stream of air to escape on the boat. Sarah stopped in front of it on the dock.

“Sam!” She was holding her clipboard as she watched Sam try to stop the leak with a crescent wrench. Bucky walked up next to Sarah, saying hi before telling Sam he was doing it wrong.

“Men. They even mansplain to other men, can you believe that?” You said from beside Sarah while Bucky finished fixing the leak. You tilted your head to admire him, “But we love to watch them work, huh?” She laughed as you wiggled your eyebrows at her. Bucky and Sam turned back to you and Sarah and Bucky’s eyes widened when they landed on your figure. Sam walked toward the front of the boat as Bucky stopped to introduce himself to Sarah.

“Sarah--” His eyes flicked to yours, “Y/N.” Then he quickly followed behind Sam.

“Oh, what was that, Y/N?” Sarah teased, two can play at that game.

“I don’t know, what was your thing about, Sarah?” You said her name like Bucky did to mess with her. She shoved your shoulder away and pushed you back to work.

You had to admit, watching Bucky do domestic type things with his metal appendage did things to you. Just knowing that he was comfortable enough to be around Sam’s whole family with his arm fully on display, made you happy.  The sun was beginning to go down, and you were sharing a beer with Sam and Bucky. Bucky hadn’t spoken to you directly since he got there and it was starting to irk you. You thought that you had something, but maybe not. Bucky rose from his position on the boat, clinking his bottle with Sam’s, claiming he needed to find a hotel room so he could catch his flight tomorrow.

“You’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?” Sam joked.

“I just don’t wanna make it weird for your family.” But Bucky’s eyes caught yours as he spoke.

“Just stay here, man.” Sam began a rant about the people of the town, ending with, “Plus we already got one freeloader for the night, what’s one more, right?”

“Oh goodie! Are we going to braid each other’s hair and play Seven Minutes in Heaven, too?” you teased Sam, but Bucky stiffened.

“We can do whatever you want.” Sam said, then he pointed at Bucky, “Just don’t flirt with my sister. Cause if you do, I’ll have Carlos cut you up, feed you to the fish.” Bucky made a face at Sam before smiling again.

Later that night, after you had all eaten dinner and the kids had gone to bed, you contemplated what your next move was going to be. You were sitting in one of the patio couches outside, a blanket wrapped around your legs, watching the stars reflection in the water. Bucky walked out on the porch, a pair of sweats-- that he had to borrow from Sam because he didn’t pack anything-- slung low on his hips, his blue Henley stopping just before the waistband of his boxers.

His gaze met yours and he approached you as if you were a wild animal and you were going to run away if he made any sudden movements. Your legs had been sprawled across both cushions of the couch, so instead of letting you change positions, Bucky just lifted your legs and then rested them on his lap. His left hand was rubbing back and forth just above your ankle.

“Is there a reason you’ve been avoiding me, James?” He ignored your question all together, opting to ask his own.

“Do you remember when we first met?” You thought back to the first time that you ever saw him. Chained to a chair, hair hiding his face from nosy onlookers.

“Uh, yeah. You were being treated like an animal, caged in a glass box. Why?” His left hand never stopped its motion on your leg.

“When you first started staring at me, I was absolutely positive that it was out of fear. Then when I actually looked at you, you were curious.” You nodded your head, recalling the emotions.

“That was a stressful day.” You could sense that Bucky didn’t need your input to get to where he was going.

“Then, when we were in that stupid tiny blue car that Steve had crammed us into,” he paused to laugh at the memory, “I was sure in that moment, that I was never going to see you again.” His gaze hadn’t left his palms on your legs, refusing to meet your eyes. “And when I saw you in Madripoor, I was positive that it was just someone who looked a lot like you. It couldn’t have been you, I wasn’t that lucky.”

His left hand gripped your leg as he spoke, “But then you started talking and I would’ve known that voice anywhere. All I wanted was to be close to you.”

“Bucky, you almost broke my arm because I sucker punched Zemo.” He shushed you.

“All I wanted was to be close to you, but I’m also a violent person.” He brought his head up, locking his steel blue orbs with yours. “Then you kept talking and you were so smart. So beautiful.” His metal hand left your leg to cup your chin. “Every word out of your mouth mesmerized me, even when you were kind of insulting me.” His thumb stroked your jaw, traveling up to your bottom lip. “And God, the way you said my name.” Your nostrils flared and your brow raised.

“What? James?” You trapped your bottom lip in between your teeth, giving Bucky reason to pull it out with his metal thumb. Your tongue shot out to wet your lips out of habit and Bucky shot you a glare.

“Doll. What’re you doing to me?” He dropped his thumb back to your cheek as his eye flicked over your face. He brought his hands down to your waist, holding it tightly and pulling you closer to him. Your ass now rested against his right leg, and he transferred his grip to wrap around your blanket covered thighs. A squeal escaped your lips without your permission, making your face contort.

“When we were sitting at the bar in your gallery I wanted nothing more than to smother you with all my love and affection.” Your heart rate increased, you want that too. “I’m glad I wasn’t able to though.” Your stomach dropped, a feeling of rejection washing over you. You began to pull away from him, wanting to escape his touch. He gripped your legs tighter against his body, “At that time, I wasn’t what I should be for you. I’ll probably never be exactly what I should be for you, but I’m selfish enough right now that I don’t care anymore.” He twisted his upper body to face you.

“What are you talking about, James?” A visible shiver ran down his spine as you said his real name. He brought both his hands up to grip your face. The cool air added to the temperature difference of his hands.

“I’m talking about this.” It wasn’t a half a second later that his lips were on yours. It took you a second to respond, but you did with fervor. Your hands traveled to his neck to show him that you wanted this too. His fingers fanned out, cupping behind your ears to bring you impossibly closer to him. His tongue traced your bottom lip, seeking entrance which you denied playfully. He brought his thumbs to rest on your chin, applying pressure as he asked again. At this point, you didn’t care about the pardon, or Karli and the Flag Smashers, or Sharon and the Power Broker, or even Sam, Sarah and the boys. You could only focus on James’ lips that were molding so perfectly with your own. You eventually had to break apart, your fingertips coming to rest on James’ kiss swollen lips. You locked eyes with him again, his pupils blown wide, and the two of you laughed.

“Oh, that.” You traced his lips while holding his stare. “Is that why you haven’t been talking to me?” He nodded quickly, gaze drifting down to your lips again. He leaned forward wanting to steal another kiss, but you stopped him. “That’s not okay behavior, James. You can’t just not talk to me because you’re frustrated with yourself.” He hummed a noise of assent, kissing your fingertips on his lips. His palm came up to keep your fingers pressed to his lips as his eyes roamed your face. “What does this mean, James? You aren’t just going to get my hopes up and then walk away right?”  He pulled back from you, a look of disappointment crossing his features.

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like that would be a possibility.” He took a deep breath, “After my time in Wakanda, after Shuri de-programmed me, I thought I finally had a group of people I could trust. Then, Ayo was able to remove my arm within the blink of an eye, but not the way that they had when they were tweaking it.” He rested his body against the back of the patio couch. “My therapist had been telling me that I needed to trust someone, and up until that point, I did. I thought I had people who fully trusted me as well.” He looked over at you, silent tears racing down his cheeks. “This clearly isn’t a good excuse, but I felt like you wouldn’t have trusted me either.” Your hands came up to his face, wiping away his tears.

“James, I’ve known of you for years before I met you. Remember how Sharon said I did that report on you in high school?” He nodded as much as your hold on his face would allow him to. “Well, that’s when I first fell in love with the idea of you.” His eyes widened as you continued speaking. “Then, I was lucky enough to meet you and it felt like everything fell into place. After Sharon and I ran off to Madripoor, I wasn’t sure if I was going to see you again, and I was okay with that because maybe you were better left as an idea.” You laughed as you looked down at your lap, dropping your hands from his face. “Then I got dusted during the Blip, which is a whole other thing and then Sharon said that you were in Madripoor.” You shook your head then faced him, eyes locking with his red rimmed pair.

“I would love to fall in love with you. And right now, I want nothing more than to let the trust we have for each other grow into something more.” A wide smile spread across his face and he bared his teeth at you, scrunching his face at the nose.

“I want that too.” He leaned forward slapping a sloppy kiss onto your lips, which you returned with equal intensity. When Bucky pulled back from you to catch his breath, he left his forehead resting against your own. Your breaths synchronized and he patted his hand twice on your outer thigh, signalling you that he was going to get up. “We better get some sleep.” He stood in front of you, offering you his hand. You smiled as you entwined your fingers with his metal ones.

Luckily, Cas and AJ were kind enough to share a room tonight so you could sleep in the other. Bucky’s hand never left your side as he walked you up the stairs. Once you had reached the closed door, he wrapped his arm around you, twisting your body to face him, back pressed against the cold wood of the door. He pushed his whole body forward, molding your bodies together as his hands hooked into the waistband of your sleep shorts.

“I’m glad that we talked, Y/N.” He pecked your lips, pulling back afterwards to stare at your face.

“I’m glad we did too, but what are you doing?” A nervous laugh left your lips and Bucky’s eyes followed the movement.

“You’re just so pretty.” He leaned forward kissing your cheeks, “I’m happy,” A kiss to your chin. “that I’ll be able to,” one to your nose, “call you my doll soon.” His lips lingering on your forehead before bringing his chin up to the top of your head, pulling you into him for a hug. You brought your arms up to wrap around his waist, your face pressed into the spot where his neck and collarbone met.

“Am I not already your doll?” Your question was muffled against his skin, but he heard you.

“Not until I specifically ask you. You can be mine without being my doll, but I want to wine and dine you before I feast.” Your brows raised again and your lips rolled inwards.

“Before you feast?” You were holding back a laugh, so Bucky pulled back, his hands gripping your shoulders, face serious.

“Feast.” He reached behind you opening the door. He gave you a quick smooch before pushing you into the empty room, alone with your thoughts. You had a harder time falling asleep that night. Bucky, on the other hand, had no problem, sleeping like a rock with a smug smile on his face.

You woke up to the sound of eggshells being cracked and forks hitting the sides of ceramic plates. Walking down the stairs and into the kitchen, you saw Sarah working over the stove while Cas was scrambling eggs. Sarah heard you coming down, ever the always aware mother.

“Hey, hope you’re hungry, ‘cause you aren’t leaving this kitchen without eating somethin’.” She watched as you peered into the living room, searching for Bucky’s imposing figure. “I think he’s down at the dock with Sam. They left real early this morning and girl, I swear to God if they’re messin’ with that water pump, I’m going to strangle the both of them.” You laughed, taking the plate of scrambled eggs that AJ was holding out to you.

“Did you tell them that the water pump wasn’t the issue?” She nodded as she stirred the eggs in her pan. “Then you know that they are, Sarah.” The two of you shared a laugh as Cas and AJ sat down to eat, as well.

“Y’all better hurry up before you’re late for the bus.” The boys quickly shoved their remaining food into their mouths, rushing out the door after kissing their mother goodbye.

“How do you do it?” Sarah’s head tilted, wondering what you were referring to. “Being a single mother and managing a business? Does it all get to be too much sometimes?” She could tell you were genuinely curious, so she sighed.

“It’s definitely challenging at times, but thankfully I have a good enough relationship with AJ and Cas that we’re able to get through pretty much anything. After we lost their Dad, I was all alone and scared. I’m still scared a lot of the time, scared that I’m going to mess them up, you know?” She paused a second to recollect her thoughts. “It’s just by chance that we live in this amazing community that helped me whenever I needed a little bit of assistance.” The conversation between the two of you fizzled after that, perhaps it was too heavy a topic for breakfast to handle. You followed her to meet a group of people at the marina, but the journey there wasn’t silent.

“So, I have a question, but you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to. Although I feel like if you don’t answer it, you’re kind of answering it.” You encouraged her to ask whatever she wanted to. “You and Bucky are a thing, right?” You coughed, unsure of how to answer. “That’s all the confirmation I needed.” Sarah smiled at you as your mouth struggled to form words.

“We are, but we aren’t?” Sarah gave you a look making you roll your eyes. “I don’t know he said that he was excited to see where this was going and then we kissed, so yes?”

“Oh, he looks like a good kisser.”

“Right? Just like he’s got the bone structure and lip plumpness ratio down to a T.” There was a brief moment of silence before the two of you burst into a fit of laughter. The walk down the marina dock wasn’t a long one, so you were able to see Sam and Bucky hunched over a pile of scattered parts.

“Uh-huh. No. No.” Sarah’s head began shaking as Sam was arguing with Bucky, who wasn’t paying attention to him. Instead, his eyes were roaming your figure, lingering on your face. His eyes darted to Sam before he greeted the two of you with a wave of his hand.

“I told you specifically that the water pump was not the problem, and yet, here you are.”

“Yep, Samuel.” Bucky teasingly berated, taking Sarah’s side.

“You’re in just as much trouble, you by-stander.” Your voice lilted into a playful tone as Bucky made a shocked face at you.

“In our defense, we were supposed to be done long before you woke up.”

“I don’t come up to the sky to tell you how to barrel roll, so don’t come down here and mess around with things you don’t understand.” Your fist came up to your mouth.

“Oh, that’s a-burn, Bird Brain.” You pointed a finger at Sam, clutching your stomach with your other hand as Sarah swatted the two boys away. Bucky stopped next to you, wrapping his metal arm around the front of your body, delivering a soft kiss to your temple. He left with Sam, arguing the whole way to the house while you stayed with Sarah, reassembling the water pump.

By the time you had gotten back to the Wilson house, Bucky was hauling his backpack strap onto his shoulder. You slowed your approach, holding your open palms in front of you, confused as to what Bucky was doing.

“Where are you going?” He turned to face you, a smile spreading over his face. His metal arm wrapped around your waist again, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I’m heading to New York, I’ve got some stuff to wrap up there. I want you to come with me.” You were taken aback, what about Karli and the GRC?

“We haven’t finished this whole thing with the Flag Smashers, or Walker. Bucky, we can’t just walk away from our responsibilities.” Bucky’s hands clasped around your shoulders.

“We aren’t, Y/N, I promise. Sam has Torres doing something with some signal do-dads and he’s going to call us the second he gets a lead.” He spoke calmly and you thought it over. At least he wasn’t trying to run away again, he was accepting that he had a real role in this. You could feel a shift coming, you weren’t quite sure what it meant, but you were hoping it was a good one.

“Okay, let’s go to New York.”

The two of you hadn’t even been in New York maybe twenty minutes when Sam texted Bucky that he had a line on where Karli was. Supposedly she was heading a takeover of the GRC meeting in Lower Manhattan. If being in New York as a wanted person was nerve wracking enough, now you were going to be surrounded by hundreds of government officials and some of New York’s finest. Bucky was on the phone with Sam, talking through the plan when your phone buzzed. Pulling the device out of your pocket, you saw Sharon’s name pop up.

“Heard you were having a bit of trouble with Karli again. Don’t worry, help is on the way, dear.” Your eyes rolled, still not over your argument before.

“You don’t need to be here for this Sharon.” You paused for a second, your left hand resting on your hip. “How did you even hear about this? Sam just now called Bucky, and I guarantee that he didn’t call you first.” Sharon chuckled on her end of the phone.

“You underestimate my reach, Y/N. I’ll meet you outside the building.” Your jaw clenched.

“Sharon, you said you didn’t want to help. What the hell changed that you’re so willing to put yourself in the middle of all this shit?” She was silent on her end.

“I figured you would want me there.” Well, shit what the fuck were you supposed to say to that?

“Lower Manhattan, keep quiet.” You hung up the phone before she could say anything else. You hated not talking to her, and being mad at her was next to impossible. This was your way of saying ‘I forgive you,’ and you knew she would understand. Bucky didn’t say anything as he watched you push your phone into the pockets of your jeans. He could tell something was off, but he could also see that you definitely didn’t want to talk about it right now. Instead he jerked his head for you to follow him, leading you through the streets of Manhattan.

The two of you could see the red lights illuminating the streets, letting you know that you were here. Bucky turned to you, holding his hand out to you, a single earpiece laying in the middle of his palm. As you took it, his hand drifted to your jaw, lifting it to face him. He placed a sweet kiss to your lips before nodding for you to stay behind him. You pulled the brim down on the hat you wore as you stuck to Bucky like glue. He led you through the barricade, one of the soldiers addressing him accordingly.

“Sergeant Barnes.” You made a face beneath your cap, holding back a laugh as Bucky came to a stop in front of you.

“Oh, Sergeant Barnes.” Bucky looked at you over his shoulder as his skin twitched. Your eyes widened. “Does that turn you on, James?” He wasn’t able to answer because of an interruption by Sam’s voice in your ears.

“By the way, I called in some backup.” An agent approached the two of you while Sam kept speaking. “Also, please remember that I can hear everything you say, Y/N. And I don’t need to know what makes the Tin Man tick.” You laughed at Sam’s statement as a twinge of pink ran up the back of Bucky’s neck.

“Excuse me, sir. Are you supposed to be here?” The agent’s hand came up to his hairline. A click sounded as the agent’s face began to glitch. “It’s me.”

“Sharon, what the hell are you doing here?” Sharon pointed an accusatory finger at you.

“Why didn’t you say that to her? The same people who want me in the Raft, want her there too. Or did you forget that?”

“Do I hear Sharon?” Sam asked as he listened in on your conversation.

“Unfortunately.” Bucky grumbled back.

“Hey Sam. I thought I’d get the band back together.” She threw a wink at you as she stepped closer to Bucky. Sam said something else to her, but you had zoned out to watch Sharon. “I hear pardons aren’t all they’re cracked up to be anyway.”

“Depends on the therapist.” Bucky said as he backed away from Sharon and closer to you.

“They’re going to move on the building soon. Be ready.” Sam brought you all back to the task at hand, switching into Captain mode. Bucky nodded to you and Sharon.

“Go with her.” You made a face at him, about to protest when he cut you off. “I don’t care. Stick with her, Y/N. Don’t get arrested though. We’ve got a date.” He wrapped his arm around the front of your waist, like he did at the Wilson house. He pressed a kiss to your temple, staying a little longer than necessary and giving your hip a squeeze before he released you. You heard glass break above your head as Sam crashed through one of the windows upstairs.

“You guys are going to have to do something. Don’t let ‘em out of the building.” You walked behind Bucky to enter the building, the metal detector going off for both you and Sharon. You shared a look with the woman.

“Oops.” Bucky pointed at a guard in tactical gear while he stepped forward.

“He’s one of them. I’ll get the evac.” He left before you could stop him, leaving you and Sharon to deal with the man he pointed at. The both of you followed him to the parking garage, where he was standing post next to two black armored vehicles. The two of you were waiting behind a pillar as you debated what to do.

“We need to stop him.”

“If we take him down now, they’re going to be suspicious and we are going to get arrested. Cool your jets, Y/N.” Your nostrils flared at her tone, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Why didn’t you tell Sam you were already coming?”

“What?” Sharon seemed startled by the question as if you didn’t catch the slip Sam said earlier.

“Sam said that he called in backup. I’m assuming he meant you because we’re the only four people he knows. So why didn’t you tell him you were already coming, or already here or whatever?”

“I didn’t think it was important.” She said dismissively, you could tell she wanted you to drop the subject, but you wanted the truth. Throwing a glance up to the guard, you saw him helping the GRC officials into the vans.

“Damn it Bucky, you had one job.” Bucky ran past you, grumbling a response as he loaded his weight onto a motorbike.

“We aren’t done with this, Sharon.” You pointed at her before she walked away from you. You watched as she ran into the guard then apologized profusely to him. When you caught up to her, she clicked a button in her hand, releasing a noxious gas in the guard’s face. You saw his skin being bubbling and sizzling.

“How’d you do that?” Your eyes hadn’t left the man in the car.

“Mercury vapor, amongst other things.” The two of you continued walking out of the garage, a helicopter started taking off from the helipad on the top of the building.

“Sam, that chopper’s about to take off.”

“Bucky!”

“I don’t fly, man. That’s your thing.” Sam groaned in the earpiece and then you saw him shoot out the window again, chasing after the helicopter. You walked alongside Sharon, following Bucky’s path after the NYPD vans. You got to the barricade just in time to see Scruff holding one of the cars back from falling off a ledge. You were too far away to be able to get to him in time to help, though. You stood next to Sharon as he was ripped away from the back of the car. Your heart dropped as your gaze went to Bucky, who was standing directly underneath the car that was about to crush him.

The crowd around you was holding their phones in front of their faces, at an angle that all they could see was the back of the NYPD van full of GRC officials screaming for help. As the car slipped farther and farther down the platform, your stomach churned more and more. Suddenly, the car stopped, hovering over the opening in the ground. You could make out Sam’s new wings on either side of the car. He pushed forward, lifting the car back to a safe position and then moving away, allowing the crowd to see him fully. The star on his suit glinted proudly as he stood still for a second. The crowd erupted in cheers for the savior. A man to your left cheered for ‘Black Falcon,’ but the man beside him corrected him before you had the chance to.

“No. That’s Captain America.” Red Wing left Sam’s suit to undo the locking mechanism on the back of the van and the GRC officials evacuated the vehicle quickly. Sam turned in the air, removing his shield from his back and throwing it at the Flag Smashers below, knocking them off their feet. At some point, you began moving toward the edge of the platform, ready to help and away from Sharon.

An explosion went off to your right, causing you to search for the source. Puffs of smoke were being thrown in the pit where Sam and Bucky stood and you could see Karli getting away in the confusion. Bucky’s voice rang through your ear.

“Hey. We’re underground. We entered the tunnel on William. Heading south.” You searched for Sharon so you could join up again, but you couldn’t find her. You could hear Sam telling Bucky that the Smashers had split up, and you knew that Bucky would’ve gone with Scruff to keep an eye on him, the unstable bastard. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Sharon crouched behind a stack of pallets, and your brows furrowed. She began whistling and then you heard Karli’s voice.

“Dovich? Is that you?” Sharon emerged from behind the stack, holding her gun in front of her.

“I’m disappointed in you.” Karli brought her gun up as well, speaking to Sharon as an old friend.

“That’s what I was gonna say.” Sharon brought her hands up in surrender, and your head tilted, what the fuck is going on? “You know, when you first came to Madripoor, you reminded me of a young me. I took you in, gave you an opportunity, and you betrayed me.” Oh hell no.

“Because you wanted to control a world that hurt you.” Karli lowered her gun but all her senses remained in overdrive. “But I wanted to change it. I’m not interested in power or an empire. I have bigger dreams.” Sharon scoffed, looking around, her eyes darting over where you were hidden behind a stack of boxes. Could it really be? Was Sharon really the person that you thought you knew?

“What, like this?” She stepped closer to Karli. “Come back and work for me again. All of you. We can make a difference together.” Sharon was trying really hard to convince Karli, but she wasn’t having it.

“You just want me because you need your muscle back. Without us Super Soldiers, how much power does the Power Broker really have?” Motherfucker. You zoned out a bit, trying to decide what to do. A male voice began speaking in French causing you to refocus.

“Four times, or--” You could see Batroc’s gun pointed at Karli and Sharon’s face was indifferent.

“I don’t do blackmail.” Sharon gripped her gun tighter, raising it quickly to shoot Batroc. Karli panicked and shot Sharon in the process. The gunshots were loud enough to give Sam an idea of where you were all located. You came out from your position, gun gripped in your hand as you stood closer to Sharon. Maybe you could salvage this situation before Sam got here.

“Karli, calm down.” You kept a tight hold on your pistol as you talked. “Look, I get it. You’re scared, but I’m going to need you to put the gun down.”

“I’ll put mine down when you do.” You could hear a slight shake in her voice. You tilted your head at her apologetically.

“You know I can’t do that.” You cast a glance at Sharon who was clutching her stomach, attempting to stop the blood flow. Karli gulped as she raised her gun again.

“Well, I can’t have any loose ends now, can I? You taught me that, Power Broker.” She sneered at a groaning Sharon. A blinding pain began radiating from your shoulder and your hand immediately when to the area. The force of the bullet knocked you off your feet, slamming your head into the ground.

“Shit, what the fuck Karli!” You could make out Sam’s figure coming up from behind Karli. You saw him process Karli standing over one dead body and two injured ones. The wheels began turning and he started speaking.

“So, what’s next, huh? You kill ten this time, then, what, a hundred? Where does it end?” He stepped closer to an agitated Karli. “Please, let me help you.” He kept his voice calm.

“Don’t try and manipulate me.” Karli approached Sam ready to attack. Their fight continued as she pushed Sam backwards.

“I’m not gonna fight you!” She knocked Sam down to the ground, with the swing of a metal bar.

“Stay down!” She shouted at him. You pushed yourself to your knees, adrenaline pumping allowing you to get to Sharon to help hold pressure on her stomach. You watched from over Sharon as Sam rose to his feet, holding his body in a fighting stance.

“I can do this all day.” She launched herself at Sam, throwing his body back into a bunch of cinder blocks. Sam held his shield in front of him, protecting from her punches.

“Fight back!” She shouted as she delivered blow after blow. Sam ducked low, grabbing onto her torso, using his thrusters to send the both of them flying. Karli used the momentum to push off the ground, to bring Sam up to the ceiling. You sat back on your knees, worry lacing your features.

Sam held one of her hands to his chest as she continued throwing the other into his shield. She gripped the top edge of the shield, using it to gain leverage. She pulled her hand away from his chest, tossing his body forward. The shield slipped from Sam’s arm and he laid on the ground, recovering from her attacks. Karli leant down to pick up her gun and you pushed yourself to your feet, ready to tackle her.

She raised her gun, aiming it at a now shieldless Sam. Karli hesitated, staring at Sam before committing to her cause, ready to kill Captain America. You were steadily creeping forward as she debated, but you could see the moment she decided to pull the trigger. Just before she could, a gunshot sounded from behind you. A gasp left your lips as Sam ran to hold Karli.

Your head whipped around to see Sharon leaning against the stack behind her, gun still smoking. Sharon shook her head at you as she holstered her weapon. Sam lifted Karli into his arms and carried her away from the both of you. You stood a good three feet away from Sharon, hand on your gun in the waistband of your jeans.

“When were you going to tell me that you’re the Power Broker.”

“What the hell are you on about now, Y/N.” Your brows raised and your mouth opened in shock.

“I was fucking here when Karli was talking to you, dumbass. Is that why you shot her? ‘Can’t have any loose ends,’ she said you taught her that, Sharon. What the fuck?” Sharon laughed at you.

“You’re imagining things, Y/N.” She rose to her feet and began walking away from you.

“Sharon, don’t fuck with me right now. How long have you been the fucking Power Broker?” You followed her up the tunnel and out to where you could see Sam lecturing a Senator. Sneaking around to a medical bag, you grabbed two pieces of gauze.

“I’m not the Power Broker.” Sharon rolled her eyes at you, leaning against a car behind the ambulances. You were about to say something else when you saw Bucky and Sam approach the two of you. They took in the two of you, an angry look on your face and an annoyed one on hers.

“You’re blocking my light.” Sharon bit out to Sam.

“We got to get you to a hospital.” Sam told Sharon as Bucky walked up to you, pulling your gauze away from your shoulder, checking your bullet wound.

“It’s through and through and you know they aren’t going to listen to you.”

“It’s not the worst thing that’s happened to me all week.” Your eyes glared at Sharon as you spoke. How long has she been doing this behind your back? Someone called for Sam’s attention.

“I think he’s talking to you.” Sharon said, turning away from the newcomer’s view. “Look, I’m sorry for how things ended down there.” Your jaw clenched but you remained silent. “For what it’s worth, the suit looks good on you.” She played a good victim, that’s for sure.

“Alright, can we get out of here, please?” Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist, leading you away from the ambulances and news cameras.

“I didn’t forget my promise either, guys.” Sam nodded at the two of you before turning to do his Cap duties. Bucky remained silent beside you, content with just being in your presence again.

He led you to his apartment, bringing you to the bathroom where he pulled out a first aid kit. He placed it on the countertop, placing his hands on your hips and lifting you onto the granite.

“You’re gonna need to take your shirt off.” He flipped the top of the kit open, searching for what he needed.

“Trying to get me naked already? At least take me to dinner first, Sergeant.” You winked as you peeled your shirt off. Bucky glared at you then quickly looked at your shoulder.

“This is going to hurt, just so you know.” He didn’t give you time to say anything else before starting to clean the hole in your shoulder. You hissed as stings radiated from the wound, cursing under your breath as he blew on it. “Alright, here we go.”  Bucky began stitching, returning your body to its former glory in his eyes. “How’d you managed to get shot?”

“I was attempting to get Karli to drop her gun.” You debated on telling Bucky what you learned about Sharon. “Who do you think the Power Broker is?” You asked gauging his reaction. His attention never wavered from his task. He soon finished with the front side of your shoulder, backing away and telling you to face the mirror. Bucky leaned forward, his hips pressing against your ass as he set to work on the exit wound.

“I have my theories. What about you?” You looked at the granite below, tracing the different lines, not answering for a few minutes.

“Mm, not really.” Was it naive to keep the knowledge to yourself? Probably, but this way you could deal with Sharon on your own and not have to involve Captain America.

“Y/N. You lived there for years, you’re telling me that you never encountered the Power Broker? Never worked for him before, procuring a particular art piece?” You shook your head as you felt him start to wrap your shoulder.

“No, I made sure that all my dealings were as clean as the illegal art trade could be.” Bucky nodded, closing the first aid kit and placing it back under the sink. He walked out of the bathroom and into his kitchen, pulling out a bottle of Advil. He shook two tablets into his metal hand and gave them to you along with a water bottle from the fridge.

“Take these and then go lay down. You need to sleep so your body can heal.” You could tell something was bothering him. You reached out to grasp his metal wrist.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Hmm?”

“Nothing. I’ve just got something to do.” You nodded.

“Do you want me to come with you?” His head shook back and forth in denial.

“No, I need to do this alone. I’ll be back soon. Whenever I get back you better be asleep in that bed.” He pointed at the door to his room. He walked up next to you, wrapping his arm around the front of your waist and giving you a kiss on your temple. “I’ll be back, doll. I’ve just got a few things to wrap up.”

He left soon after, leaving you alone in his barren apartment. It was easy to see that he hadn’t made it his home. Probably feeling like he had no reason to, no ties to anyone here. Makes it easier when you have to bug out in a pinch. You walked into his room, searching for a shirt to wear to bed. Finding one of his shirts hanging in his closet, you pulled it over your head after removing your bra. You took off your jeans, trading them for your sleep shorts from your bag.

You climbed into his bed, waiting for his scent to envelope you, but it never came. Has he ever actually slept in this bed? So you laid there, unable to fall asleep, too many thoughts swirling in your brain. How long has Sharon been the Power Broker? Did it start when you first got to Madripoor? Or was it after you were dusted and she was there alone for five years? None of this changed the fact that she needed to be stopped. The amount of influence she had was too great. Your phone buzzed on the nightstand next to the bed, so you rolled over to pick it up.

Court hearing with the Senators tomorrow at 8 A.M. for you. -Sam

You thought about the possibility of being welcome back into your own country and not being treated like a criminal. Thought of the possibility of going to work for the government again. Of working with Bucky and Sam. Of being with Bucky without having to look over your shoulder all the time, and it made you smile. Your phone buzzing brought you out of your trance.

Also, you and Bucky need to come to my house tomorrow. Sarah’s throwing a party, they got the boat finished so we’re celebrating.

That made your smile grow, you were happy for the first time in a long time. The lock of the front door clicked and you jumped out of the bed, grabbing your knife, ready for an attack. You waited behind the door to Bucky’s bedroom, then swung it open. Your hand came up to the intruder's throat and your mind switched out of attack dog mode when you saw Bucky’s raised brow.

“Is there a reason for this?” His eyes were red and he had tear stains on his cheeks. You flipped your knife back down and placed it on top of your jeans.

“Sorry. Are you okay, James?” He shook his head and you opened your arms to him. He walked into your embrace, before exhaling harshly into your uninjured shoulder.

“No, but I will be.” He backed away for a second, taking in your form. “Didn’t I tell you that you were supposed to be asleep when I got back? Also, is that my shirt?”

“Yes, you did and yes, it is. Do you have an issue with that, Sergeant?” He quickly shook his head back and forth, leaning down to pick you up by your thighs and tossing you onto his bed.

“Not at all, doll. You look better in it than I do.” He smiled at you as he stripped down to his boxers before climbing into bed with you. Bucky tossed his arm over your waist, pulling your body into his. He sighed contentedly, basking in the way you smelled.

“Sam got me a hearing for a pardon.”

“Oh yeah? When’s that?” Bucky’s voice was muffled because he had buried his face in your neck, peppering small pecks there.

“Tomorrow morning at nine. Are you going to come?” Bucky thought on it for a moment, before shaking his head.

“I have one more thing to take care of.” You nodded.

“They got the boat fixed and Sarah invited us to the party. Sam says we have to go, it’s tomorrow too. I don’t actually know what time though he didn’t say.”

“Alright, I’ll pick something up to bring after I finish my thing.” You turned to face him, a smirk plastered on your face.

“So, Sergeant does it for you?” You giggled as he groaned and removed his arm from your waist. His hand came up to run through his hair, scratching his head

“Are we doing this right now, Y/N?” You released a cackle of a laugh, nodding in response. “Oh that’s how you’re gonna play this?” He attacked your sides, beginning to tickle you causing you to react accordingly. Somehow, he managed to end up on top of you, in between your thighs. He stopped suddenly to watch as you writhed and giggled.

“What?” You started getting self-conscious, afraid that there was something on your face. Your hands came up to hide your face from him, but Bucky wasn’t having it. He took your hands away from your face by trapping your wrists beside your head. “What? Why are you doing that?” You questioned, only halfway serious.

“You’re just so pretty.” He leaned forward, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss that soon turned into something else. His hands traveled back down to your sides, resting on the bare skin showing from your shirt having ridden up. The temperature difference shocked you enough to make you gasp, giving Bucky the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, escalating the situation.

Your hands came up to the back of his head, holding him in the kiss, guaranteeing that he wasn’t going anywhere. They made their way down his body to rest on his shirtless back. He pushed forward with his hips, the fabric separating the two of you becoming increasingly annoying. Bucky pulled back slightly, nudging you to open your eyes. There was a silent interaction between the two of you in that moment, neither of you was ready for anything intense, so the momentum slowed, but the energy level remained.

Bucky’s hands never left your body that night. Exploring and memorizing every ridge, every stretch mark, every piece of you that made you, you. You drifted your fingers over the scarred skin next to his arm, tiny feather touches that made him hum. Falling asleep in his arms was the easiest thing you ever had to do. And for Bucky, being able to hold you as you flutter asleep was beautiful. He watched as your face relaxed and all the tension left your body, allowing yourself to melt into his embrace. Bucky didn’t like to admit it, but he was a touch starved human being. All those years in and out of cryo and isolation gave his body plenty of reason to crave genuine human touch. And to have a human as charming and annoying as you was a dream come true, his doll.

You woke up before Bucky the next morning. You looked over at his face, tranquility lacing his features, unburdened with no glorious purposes. He was just your James. The two of you had separated sometime during the night, so you scooted closer to his frame. His metal arm is thrown across the pillow behind your head, giving you perfect access to his neck and chest. You glanced at the clock across the room, the hands telling you that it was seven thirty in the morning. If you wake him now, you could have at least thirty-five minutes of bliss, plus some heavy petting if you both were feeling cheeky.

You leaned forward towards his neck, placing tiny kisses from the base of his ear to the puckered skin of his shoulder. You were so focused on your task that you didn’t recognize the change in his breathing pattern.

“Good morning, doll.” If you could melt into the mattress, that would’ve done it. His fucking rasp grated you into a fine powder of a human. You hummed at him, not stopping your kisses, instead climbing up to his jaw and then to his lips. He turned his head and playfully laughed. “Nuh-uh, we’ve got morning breath, ya nasty.” You groaned, retreating from his figure completely.

“Fine, we will brush our teeth together and then come right back to this bed and you will love me, damn it.” Bucky laughed at you as you drug yourself into his bathroom. This was the type of bliss you wanted, and you only wanted to share it with a particular metal armed super soldier. It didn’t take long to brush your teeth, and you pushed on Bucky’s back to get him into the bed quicker. When he did get back into the bed, he was grumbling.

“I don’t know why we’re getting back in bed, we’re already up now.” He smiled as you glared at him. Bucky’s back was leaned against his headboard, so you swung your leg over his thighs, straddling his lower half. His hands rested on your waist as you brought yours up to the sides of his face.

“You frustrate me.” You said with a loving smile and tone before pecking his lips softly as he laughed. “What time do you have to leave for your thing?” You played with the strings of your sleep shorts as he answered you.

“Around eight-thirty, it takes me about thirty minutes to get there and it doesn’t open until nine.”

“I’m gonna be leaving around then, too. What do you wear when you’re going in front of senators to be pardoned for stealing a metal frisbee?” Bucky huffed a laugh, pulling you closer to him wrapping his arms around your back. “I’m thinking a crop top that says “Fuck You,” would that be too obvious?”

“Yeah, that one might be a little on the nose.” Bucky checked your shoulder as he spoke. “Your shoulder looks good, no infection, thanks to me.” He plastered a wide smile on his face afterwards. “Do you know what time Sharon’s hearing is?” You stiffened slightly at the mention of Sharon.

“Uh, no. Sam just told me my time and I haven’t talked to Sharon.” Bucky’s head tilted.

“Everything okay on that front?”

“Not really?” You went back and forth on what to tell him. You didn’t want to give him the extra burden of knowing what Sharon was. “We had a fight a few days ago and neither one of us has cooled off about it, so that’s a bit rocky.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” You shook your head, so Bucky just held you tighter. “Okay, you don’t have to.” He held you for a few more minutes, before backing away. “Alright we need to get ready.” You groaned, slackening your body, making everything about you dead weight.

“No. I don’t wanna.” You sounded like a child.

“You sound like a child.” Oh you whore, get out of my head, butt munch. Bucky said, pushing your body off his. He walked to his closet as you laid spread out like a starfish on his bed. Bucky had already picked out a shirt and put on pants whenever he walked back in and you were still laid on his bed.

“You’re gonna be late.” He leaned over your head, appearing to you upside down. His arms were resting on either side of your face, dropping down he pressed a kiss to your lips. “You’ve got to get up, Y/N.” He went to the other end of the bed, where your feet dangled off the edge. He grabbed your ankles and pulled you, you slid off the bed, taking the comforter with you. “Oh my god, this is pitiful, Y/N. You’re a grown woman!” Bucky shouted at you as he left the room.

The two of you parted ways after you got dressed, but not before Bucky wrapped his arm around the front of your waist and placed a kiss on your temple. You wondered why he did that so much, but you weren’t going to argue with the attention because you loved it. You walked up to the extravagant building that was bustling with people. Everything was white, you always wondered why that was. White represented innocence and America was anything but innocence. You ended up wearing your casual clothes for two reasons. One, you were being pardoned, why couldn’t you be comfortable for that? And two, you had somewhere to go after this and that was just as important as this court meeting to you. Walking into the courtroom, you took in all the faces in the seats. Your name was called immediately, so you approached the podium.

“Ms. Y/L/N, on behalf of the United States Intelligence Community, I’d like to offer you and your family our sincerest apologies.” You wanted to scoff, but you bit your tongue. “You’ve always been an incredible asset to our country. Today, we begin to set things right. We begin to repay some of the debt that is owed to you.” You bowed your head.

“Thank you, Senator. It’s been a long time coming.” You could see the Senator’s jaw clench, not used to being brushed off.

“And we’d like to offer you a full pardon. There might be an opening in your old division. Is that something that you’d be interested in?”

“Actually, Senator. I would like to thank you for that opportunity, but no. I’ll be working with Captain America.” The man’s whole body seemed to twitch.

“You aren’t authorized to make that kind of decision, Ms. Y/L/N.” This time you did scoff.

“Yeah, okay. Well thanks for the pardon.” You tapped the podium twice, leaning to walk away. “This has been great, I really feel like we’ve both said our peace. See ya later, Senator.” You walked out as you heard him calling your name. You pulled your phone out, dialing Bucky’s number.

“Hey doll! How’d court go?” You started walking to where you and Bucky had planned to meet after you got done with your respective tasks.

“Oh great! I’m working with Cap now.” You could almost see Bucky’s face.

“Wow, how’d you manage that?” You smirked.

“I can be very persuasive when I want to be, James.”

“Oh is that so, Y/N?” You could hear his smirk as he spoke. “Maybe you’ll have to be persuasive with me one day.” You laughed.

“James, I don’t have to be persuasive with you.” You caught sight of Bucky walking down the street with a store-bought cake in his hand. You held up your pinky finger wiggling it for emphasis, “I’ve got you wrapped around my finger.”

By the time you got to the marina that docked Paul & Darlene, you were buzzing with excitement. Bucky was giggling at your antics, you were practically bouncing in the passenger seat. As soon as Bucky got out of the car, Cas and AJ latched onto him. He went along with them, playing as if he was going to slam the cake into their faces. You walked past Bucky, hugging everyone who greeted you. Once you reached Sarah, you sat down on the picnic table for a second before taking off again. You stood to the side as you watched Sam take picture after picture with pretty much everyone from town.

Bucky stood next to you, chuckling about everyone’s reaction to Cap being from their hometown. One woman almost knocked Sam flat on his ass when she hugged him, a huge smile stretched over her face. You went back to the table Sarah was at, taking a seat next to her. Suddenly Bucky climbed on top of the table, holding his vibranium arm out with two children dangling off it. He was talking animatedly with his other as he told a story about Sam. You had zoned out just staring at him with the kids.

“You know, this could be you.” Sarah said as she leaned next to your ear.

“What could be?” You made a face at her.

“The kids, the community.” She looked over at Bucky, “That hunk of a man over there.” You slapped her shoulder softly before humming.

“I’ve thought about it, but that’s a two person decision and I don’t think either of us are at a point in our lives to raise another tiny human.” Sarah nodded, her features disbelieving.

“Just don’t let that one get away.” Her finger was pointed at Bucky who was playing with the kids at the edge of the dock. Bucky must’ve felt your gaze on him because he looked up, removing his dark sunglasses to lock eyes with you.

“Oh I don’t plan on it.” You smiled at her. You joined Bucky and Sam as they stood in front of Paul & Darlene, taking in the sunset reflecting on the water. Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple. You definitely don’t plan on it, you thought to yourself as you leaned into his embrace.

**********************

@londonalozzy @marvelofwitch @dramaticwittch @hellmoonsin @jn-wolf @youcancallmeishita @iabrokengirl @veroxloki @liveloudwriteloud @lainternettuale @angelofthetrenchcoats @rosiahills22 @peachymichu @sj-ficrecs @learisa @itsyagirl01 @simply-me-xoxo @ghoststudyy @taina-eny @japanrecs @sinfulhun-collapsedheart @isaordora @shutupstevie @sprsoldierfics @beachbabe925 @afuckingshituniverse @distinguishedgardenroadbonk @littlewhiterose @bcadc42 @tcc-gizmachine @imagines78643258 @mia-j-333

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Bet On It | Charlie Gillespie

Requested:  I may have already requested this (or I may have dreamed it) - but I would love an imagine with Charlie and the reader having a bet. Charlie loses and has to get the readers name tattooed somewhere and his fans go INSANE. Can be either platonic or romantic, your choice.

A/N: This was too good to pass up. Hope you like it! And special thanks to @calamitykaty for helping me out again on this one! I appreciate your help and love so much! You are the best of the best! Love you! 💖

Pairing: Charlie x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, tattoos 

Song(s) used: Show Me How You Burlesque - Christina Aguilera 

Words:  3,880

“Wanna bet on it?” was one of the first things he had ever said to you three years ago when you met him after your dance troupe had performed at the annual showcase. 

You and Meghan Gillespie had been friends since you started taking dance classes when both of you were five. However, your friendship never expanded from dance classes. Both of you were totally fine with that. 

This also meant neither of you had ever met each other's siblings, but that changed when you were seventeen and Charlie tapped your shoulder when you’d come up to greet your own family after the showcase. He’d complimented you on your dancing, and told you a little flustered that you had stolen the show. You didn’t even need to ask his name to know this was Charlie. He had the same bone structure and the same eyes Meghan did. She had told you about her siblings, mostly about Charlie since he was the closest in age and, according to her, the most annoying out of all her brothers. 

The two of you talked the whole night, even long after everyone had gone. Most of it was absolute nonsense, but  you loved getting to know him a little more aside from the stories you’d heard from Meghan. You enjoyed his presence and the way he carried himself and told his stories. This boy just seemed like the most excitable and passionate person you had ever met in your life. A lot of similarities to his sister, you noticed. 

“Can I see you again soon?” he asked when the two of  you wrapped up the night when it neared twelve am. 

You had raised your eyebrow at his nervosity more than his question. “Are you asking me out on a date?” 

Charlie’s head snapped up at your question, his eyes wide and jaw tight. “Wha-What? Nah! I wouldn’t date my sister’s friend! Uhm, more like, uh… Like a platonic date!” he exclaimed a little too excitedly. He even added some finger guns to top it all off. 

“All right, a platonic date it is,” you said as a teasing grin made its way to your features. “But you have to promise me one thing…” He nodded his head, encouraging you to go on. “You  have to promise you won’t fall in love with me.” 

A snicker raked through his body before he mimicked your teasing grin, “Wanna bet on it?” 

Even though back then there was nothing at stake, he still lost the bet. You both did, technically. Because after that first ‘platonic’ date followed more dates that grew into non-platonic dates until he finally picked up the courage to kiss you on your doorstep. 

Now three years later, you were working together on a second season of Julie and The Phantoms, both of you having been on the first season too. You as a background dancer and him as one of the leads of the show. 

To say you were proud of him would be an understatement. 

However, no one knew you were dating except for the closest people in your life. Meghan knew from the first ‘platonic’ date that this would be more than just a shallow friendship, and all your other friends and family were just happy you found each other. The cast of Julie and The Phantoms, however, were your biggest shippers. They loved to tease you both to the point where fans were suspicious, but you never made anything official. You kept telling them you were just best friends. 

After a full day on a corona proof set, the two of you finally settle on the sofa of your shared apartment with Owen. Said third roommate still had to film a couple of scenes with Booboo, which meant the two of you had the space all to yourself. 

Cuddled up on the couch, the two of you scroll through your phone, catching up on anything  you’d missed on social media. You’d received a few comments on your latest Instagram story with Savannah and Tori, and even more on the ones with Charlie in them. Most of them told you they wanted you to do a live together soon. 

“People are asking for a live,” you stated, showing some of the messages in your inbox. 

“Then they shall receive,” Charlie replied and got up from the couch, making his way into the bedroom. You furrowed your eyebrows, wondering why he just left, but you were given answers when he returned with an acoustic in his hand. “They always love a good jam session,” he explained before handing  you his phone so you could set up the live on his account since he had a lot more followers than you. 

“Let’s see,” you mumbled as you pressed the button, letting the phone rest against a large candle on the coffee table. Names started popping up at the bottom of the screen while the little number in the right-hand corner raked up quickly. “Hey guys!” 

“‘Sup!” Charlie shouted excitedly, a wide smile taking over his features while he tuned his guitar. “What do you guys wanna see from us today? Send us some requests for songs I should play or questions you want us to answer.” 

A laugh escaped your mouth as you noticed a lot of the questions were about whether or not you were a couple. “No, we’re not together, we’re just best buddies.” You put your head on Charlie’s shoulder, smiling a toothy smile at the camera. 

“Do you pull pranks on Owen or others from the cast?” Charlie read aloud as you pulled yourself up again, nodding your head in response. “Yeah, we pull pranks on each other all the time!” 

“Yeah! I love to prank this one whenever I find him somewhere napping,” you chuckled, especially when you noticed his expression on the screen. His mouth ajar as his eyes went from left to right. “I swear, this boy can sleep anywhere!” 

“Don’t expose me like that!” he cried out, which made you burst out with laughter to the point where you even let out a snort. You couldn’t hold yourself anymore at how offended he was by all of this, you were practically cackling. “Okay, if we’re exposing each other, you’re always dancing. ALWAYS,” he put emphasis on the last ‘always’. His eyes widened at the word as well as his voice growing louder. 

You stopped laughing at this, suddenly turning serious. “That’s my job, Char,” you deadpanned. Charlie wasn’t Charlie if he let it go so quickly. 

“Yeah, on set and maybe at practice, but you dance everywhere,” he turned to the camera, “Seriously, she dances in the shower, on the toilet, at catering, in bed,...” he stopped himself upon realizing he’d said a tiny bit too much. 

“People are asking how you know all that, Charlie. How do you know all of that?” you teased along, knowing he had dug himself a hole and you loved to see him squirm to get him out. 

“Because I… Come on, y/n, we’re best friends, we fall asleep in the same bed all the time,” he quickly saved himself in a very nonchalant, very Charlie way. You couldn’t help the smirk tugging at one corner of your lip, thinking ‘Nice save, Gillespie’.

“But that’s still not as bad as sleeping everywhere,” you countered, your face still overtaken by that smirk. “I bet I could get a whole album of pictures of you sleeping anywhere.” 

This claim made Charlie’s head snap up, a feeling of dejavu rushing through his mind. This suddenly felt very familiar since both of you had  been in a situation like this before, both pulling the short straw.

“Wanna bet on it?” he declared, his eyebrows nearly reaching up to his hairline. 

Your tongue glided across your turned up lips as you replied, “What’s at stake?” 

“Let’s see what they think. Guys! Help us out with this bet, please! What should be at stake?”

Dozens of replies came in, but your eyes fell on one in particular. “The loser has to get the winner’s name tattooed in a place of the winner’s choice!” you read aloud, pointing at the screen where the comment used to be. “Yes! Okay! So, let’s say we have to each get ten pictures of videos by -- it’s now Tuesday, so Monday?”  Charlie nodded his head in agreement. “First one to get ten wins.” 

Charlie held his hand out for you to shake, which you gladly did so, sealing the bet. 

“Get ready to get tatted for the first time, baby,” Charlie quipped with a smirk. 

“Oh, no, Char. I’m gonna leave this a blank canvas,” you responded, gliding your hands over your ribcage and down to your sides for emphasis. “You better get ready to get ‘y/n’ tattooed in big block letters across your chest!” You patted his pecs before adding with a giggle, “No ragrets.” 

He let out a chuckle at the meme reference before turning to the phone again. The two of you spent the next twenty minutes talking to the fans on Instagram live, playing them some songs and teasing one another non-stop. The fans were pretty certain you were a thing by now, but you still insisted all this was just a really close friendship. 

By the next day, everyone knew about the bet and was willing to help both of you out. Though, most of them told you afterwards they were on your side all the way. 

Savannah skipped over to you when you were waiting at the Hollywood Ghost Club set, getting ready for the last rehearsal before you’d start filming the scene tomorrow. You were going over the steps in your head until she spoke up. “Have you caught Charlie yet today?” she asked with a smirk. You let out a chuckle, shaking your head. 

“No, haven’t really stopped today, so I haven’t seen him much either.” This made you realize you kind of missed him and were up for a cuddle right about now. “Why? Have you seen him somewhere?” 

The mischievous look in her eyes spoke a thousand words. “Gimme your phone, I’ll go take a picture, so you can stay here.” You mull over the option for a second before deciding against it. 

“No, that’s not very fair. I’ll just go and look for him after this rehearsal and hope he’ll still be napping.” Savannah shrugged at your response before tucking a strand of hair of yours behind your ears. 

“Suit yourself, he’s in the breakroom.” You made a mental note of that. “You’re so soft for him, it’s adorable,” she uttered as a tender smile found its way to her lips. “I’ll let you get to rehearsal and I’ll make sure no one wakes Charlie before you can get to him, okay?” 

You shot her a thankful smile, “Yeah, thanks, Sav.” She kissed your cheek before walking away to wherever she needed to go. 

Thankfully, Charlie was indeed still asleep by the time you made it to the breakroom. He looked adorable all curled up on the small sofa with his arms wrapped around his own stomach. With an endeared smile, you grabbed your phone from the pocket of your sweater and snapped a picture before making your way over to him and squatting down in front of the couch. Softly, you brushed a strand of hair off his forehead before combing through the luscious mop of brown locks. 

He stirred slightly and squeezed his eyes tighter before they fluttered open. When they met yours, a soft, sleepy smile lit up his face. With a beam mirroring his, you said to him, “You look very cuddly up here, mind if I join you?” He scooted over and turned to his side, answering your question without words. You joined him on the small couch and rested your forehead on his chest, shutting your eyes as you inhaled the familiar scent of his cologne. 

“You took a picture, didn’t you?” he mumbled, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. You giggled, which was enough for him to know that you did. 

“One point y/n, Charlie zero,” you said and kissed his shirt-covered chest. 

“Oh, I’ll get my revenge, Bubba, I promise you!” He poked you in the ribs, making you squirm in his arms. “But let’s nap first until they need us again.” 

When Charlie promised something, he stuck to it. So, during lunch that same day, you stood in line with Madison, Jadah, Savannah, Tori and some of the other dancers, chatting a bit while music played from the speakers in the spacious area where everyone was either already eating or queueing to get food. 

“You really never know if you--” you cut yourself off once your ears picked up on the song that was playing in the background. “Oh my God! I know the choreo to this one. Tori, you do too, right?!” 

You put the plate you were holding on top of Savannah’s while Tori and some of the other dancers gave theirs to the other girls. Tori and Sam, one of the dancers you were closest with, got up on the table. Chuckling, you watched as a few others followed their example, and you quickly give in too. 

“Hit it up, get it up, won’t let you rest Hit it up, get it up, this is not a test Hit it up, get it up, gotta give me your best So get your ass up, show me how you burlesque”

You’ve loved this movie since it came out ten years ago. Your mother showed you some videos of you dancing in front of the tv, trying to imitate the dancers. It was pretty hilarious to see a ten-year-old do this dance. 

Right now though, you were ready to show off in front of everyone with some of the greatest dancers on this crew. Moments like these were proof that you were born to be a dancer. 

“A little bit of naughty, it's a little bit nice She’s a whole lot of glam, sweat, sugar, sex, spice Shimmy, shimmy, strut, strut Give a little what, what Up on the tables we’ll be dancing all night”   

Little did you know that Charlie had walked in with Owen, Jeremy and Booboo just as you’d started to dance. He was quick enough to grab  his phone from his pocket and film it. Even though he loved the fact that it was now a tie, he couldn’t help but smile proudly at the girl he’d fallen in love with three years ago. 

This was his favorite side of yours. You were in your element on the dance floor -- or table in this case. He just loved how confident you were and how free you seemed. While you’d be kind of shy when around new people, nobody would notice that when you’re dancing. He found it incredibly sexy to see you up there. 

You groaned as Charlie held his hand out to help you down the table when you’d finished the impromptu performance. With a smirk, he said, “1-1, Bubba,” and pressed a kiss to your flustered cheek. 

“I hate you,” you mumbled, but you couldn’t withhold the smile tugging at your lips. He looked so chuffed with his victory, even if it was a small one. You wanted to grant him this one win. 

The one win quickly turned into eight more, for the both of you, by Saturday. 

Match point. 

There was a mutual agreement to pause the bet on Sunday since the two of you had a day off and were going to sleep and dance around the apartment while cleaning up anyway, so that wouldn’t be fair. But on Monday, it was game on. 

You were certain you were going to win. All you had to do is find Charlie when you knew he didn’t have to film anything and try to withhold yourself from dancing if it wasn’t a part of the filming or rehearsal progress.

By noon, you had succeeded in one department. The only thing left to do now, was find Charlie. You knew he had an hour off for lunch and  that he’d spent twenty minutes of it taking a power nap somewhere on set. The only downside was, that you had no clue where he could possibly be sleeping  now. 

“Mads! Jer!” you exclaimed when you saw Madison and Jeremy walking up to you with sandwiches in their hands. “Have you guys seen Charlie anywhere?” The two glanced at each other before giving you a look that screamed ‘seriously, y/n?’. 

“What’s the best napping spot in the entire studio and isn’t used for anything today?” Jeremy asked as a way of responding to your question. 

Your eyes widened as the image of the bed popped into your head. You quickly muttered, “Thank you!” before hurrying your way to the set that holds Julie Molina’s bedroom. And there, smack in the middle of the bed, cuddled up to a pink cushion, lied your boyfriend. 

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as you nervously grabbed your phone and snapped a few pictures to make sure there was at least one that wasn’t blurry. Your hands were shaking way too much from the excitement, but you couldn’t just let this one pass. You had to win. If not just to prove a point. 

You rapidly scrolled through the photos and when you saw one that was in focus, you shrieked and leapt onto the bed on top of Charlie. He let out a groan at the sudden weight pressing down on his body as he shook awake. 

“I won, bitch!” you screamed out, doing a happy dance as you straddled his lap.

He rubbed his eyes like a toddler whilst giggling like one too before placing his hands on your thighs and saying, “I didn’t think you’d find me here.” He started rubbing up and down your jeans-cladded legs, a pout tugging at his bottom lip. 

You raised your eyebrows at him, “Seriously? This is the most infamous napping spot of the entire studio! I immediately came here when I couldn’t find you in your regular spot in the breakroom.” Now it was his turn to raise his eyebrows at you. 

“Someone else told you I was here, didn’t they?”

“Yep, definitely.” 

He groaned and then flipped you over, so you were lying next to him, and you let out a shriek before it turned into a giggle. “I already know where you’re gonna put my name too,” you mumbled. You pressed your forehead against his while tracing a heart on his chest, right above his heart. 

His eyes fluttered shut as he kissed your forehead. Placing it back, he muttered, “Let me guess, on my left pec, so you’re forever in my heart?” You simply hummed in response, earning a chuckle from your boyfriend. “Why are you so predictable?” 

“Shut up, you love me.” 

Butterflies welled up in his belly as you said that. He loved the overconfident way you always said those words. They were true. Very true and he loved that you knew that. But that didn’t take away the fun into actually reminding you too. 

“That’s true.” 

The following day, you took Charlie to the tattoo parlor to get his tattoo. You had told him a thousand times he didn’t have to do it, that knowing you were the winner sufficed, but he just replied with a, “No, I want that tattoo.” 

The tattoo artist asked if  you had a design in mind, so you handed her the slip of paper on which you had perfectly written your name in cursive and told her where to put it. She simply stated, “You got great  handwriting,” before showing you and Charlie to the back. 

“Film this for Insta, babe, so the people know I lost,” Charlie had ordered you sweetly as he tugged his shirt over his body, handing it over to you while he sat down. 

You grabbed your phone and started filming when the tattoo artist, whose name was CeCe, she’d said, started on his tattoo. Charlie looked up at you, biting his lip, and then reaching out to you. Without asking him what was wrong, you swung his shirt over your shoulder and took his hand with the one you weren’t filming with. He squeezed hard, nearly bone-crushingly hard, but you let him. After all, it was kind of your fault he was there in the first place. 

When CeCe had finished and put a protective band-aid on it, Charlie grabbed his shirt from your shoulder, and kissed you on the lips sweetly. You paid for the work and time CeCe had put into this, said your goodbyes, and headed back home. 

Pretty much every single one of the cast was waiting at your place, ready to see the finished product. However, Charlie wasn’t allowed to take the covering off yet. It needed to stay there for two to four hours before he could take it off. 

And once he did, you were surprised to not only see your name on his chest, but also your favorite flower worked into it beautifully. Confused and surprised, you looked up at Charlie. 

“When did you even tell her to do that?” you asked as everyone started to take pictures of the tattoo and of the interaction between the two of you. 

“Called in beforehand,” he simply shrugged. Shaking  your head, you leaned up and planted a kiss to his lips. Even though it was bat-shit crazy he even went through with tattooing your name on his chest, the fact he added an element of you made it extra special. 

That night, Charlie posted the video of him getting his tattoo on his Instagram stories while you made a compilation post of all ten of the sleeping Charlie pictures you had accumulated in the last week, along with a picture of his tattoo. 

@Yourinstahandle: Victory is mine! You are absolutely crazy. I can’t believe you went through with this. At least now I’m forever embedded on your heart and I’ll be yours forever. 💖 @Charles_Gillespie 

And with that, you immediately went Instagram official too. Following your example, Charlie shared a picture of his brand new tattoo as well. 

@Charles_Gillespie: Wanna bet on it? Forever mine 💖 @Yourinstahandle

When he joined you in bed that night, you went to lie down on his chest, only to receive a painful hiss from him, causing you to shoot up again. “GAH! Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!” you shouted, and looked at him in shock. 

“It’s fine,” he muttered and went to pull you back but you refused to. 

“No, Char, I’m not gonna hurt you for an entire night,” you grumble and crawl across his legs to lie down on his other side. “This feels weird.” You rested your head against the non-painful side of his chest. “But better than no cuddles.” 

“Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn’t have won, so I wouldn’t be in pain right now,” he responded, followed by a small chuckle, letting you know he was just joking.    

“You are the most ridiculous person I have ever met,” you muttered. Before closing your eyes, you quickly leaned up and pecked his cheek. 

“Wanna bet on it?”

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