#I’ll probably clean this up and color it later on… maybe on the plane back
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
The Sillies™ 💙
#I’ll probably clean this up and color it later on… maybe on the plane back#just wanted to doodle some fluff while I’m awake and everyone else is sleeping hehehe#neck kisses#tickle anticipation#neck tickles#avery nimbus#Casper Reid#ler!avery#lee!casper#tickling art#tickling#tickle art#fluffyart#tickle#tickling community#tickles
162 notes
·
View notes
Text
I've been weighing the pros and cons of where we want to move. The climate here is warm, Oregon was cold, and Citrus Heights fell somewhere in between. The climate in NM is between cold and in-between. It even gets a dusting of snow a few times a year although it doesn't last long since there's quite a big swing between the daily lows and highs. However, it would do wonders for my allergies and asthma. Plus, it would mean no year-round spiders and even the snakes would hibernate longer there compared to Arizona. The Chihuahuan Desert is much higher than the Sonoran, with night temperatures already dipping into the 20s for several months. I’ll definitely need a winter coat, which I haven’t needed since we lived in Oregon in 2007. I’ll miss this warmer weather, but not much else.
Becky mentioned that if we're interested in a particular piece of land, she’ll drive by and make sure it’s not a problematic spot. Apparently, the area has shifting sands, though most of that is over in White Sands.
Other pros and cons include moving into a place that will make this one seem big. But I’m also liking the idea of a minimalist lifestyle and having less space to clean.
Becky also mentioned that gunshots are common during hunting season but not too frequent, which is probably similar to Arizona. The sound might be a bit annoying outside city limits, but we plan to soundproof (monsoon storms can be just as loud as the storms here). Comparing the planes we hear here to the gunshots we heard in Arizona, the occasional gunfire is preferable. I only remember one year in Arizona where it was extreme, with gunshots from sunrise to sunset.
On another note, I ordered a new color-by-number book with a floral theme.
Had a couple of shitty dreams and I wonder if the Claritin could have caused them. This stuff can cause nightmares. My father was alive in one dream, and we were going somewhere at night. I knew in the dream that he was 89 years old, even though he only lived to be 80.
All of a sudden he got this funny look on his face And started mumbling incoherently. I asked if he was okay, and he just gave a slight nod. But then he started drifting into the wrong lane. I shouted at him to move over, and he did. A few minutes later, he started drifting off to the side of the road into trees and shrubs, and again I yelled at him. Fearing he was having a stroke, I was about to tell him to pull over when he floored it all of a sudden and I woke up right as we were about to slam into the back of another vehicle.
As a psychic, I'm a little worried when it comes to dreams like this. But maybe it doesn't mean anything, since it involves someone that's not even alive anymore. I sure hope not!
Where it got weird was that after the nightmare woke me up and I got up to pee, I got back in bed and had another dream where my mother was alive and I was telling her about the nightmare. I was hoping we could finally chat for a bit and spend some time together and asked her if she received an email I recently sent her. She gave a vague roundabout answer, which pretty much told me she didn't want to confirm it because she didn't want to hear from me. When I tried to tell her about the dream, some other guy entered the room and they started chatting and laughing together so I finally gave up.
Nothing from Michela, but fortunately 23andMe tells you when someone has been on the site. She hasn't been on since she requested to add me.
0 notes
Note
14 Frenrey for the kiss prompt! I am CHOMPING at the BIT
(Kiss Prompt List)
14: …casually.
Gordon’s going to miss his cab, which means he’s going to miss the plane, which means he’s going to miss the conference and probably get fired - yet he can’t help but linger in the doorway, bags on the stoop outside, one hand on the doorknob.
“What do you do if something happens?”
“Tell Benrey,” Joshua says, currently hanging from one of Benrey’s outstretched arms. Benrey’s other hand is holding his phone, and judging by the sounds, he’s playing Candy Crush.
“And what do you do when he’s not paying attention and doesn’t hear you?”
“I’m paying attention,” Benrey says, without looking up from his phone.
Joshua kicks his feet to swing back and forth. Benrey’s arm doesn’t move. Gordon isn’t going to think about the bulge of his deltoid muscle showing through his t-shirt. Nope, not thinking about it. See how good he is at not thinking about it?
“What do you do then, Joshie?”
Joshua huffs. “I call Grandpa Bubby, Grandpa Coomer, and Uncle Tommy, in that order,” he recites. “Then I go next door and knock until Mrs. Rodriguez answers and tell her what’s going on.”
“Perfect,” Gordon sighs. “You know where the address book is with all the numbers?”
Joshua points toward the counter, then loses his grip and drops to the floor with a thump. Benrey’s arm stays out, like he’s halfheartedly T-posing. Joshua climbs up the couch and clambers onto Benrey’s back, wrapping his arms around Benrey’s neck. After a moment, Benrey brings his hand down to catch one of Joshie’s kicking feet and help support his weight. A jingle plays from the phone, and Gordon can see the colored lights on the screen reflected in Joshua’s eyes as he peers over Benrey’s shoulder.
“Remember that Benrey’s screens count toward your daily screen time, buddy.”
“I’m paying attention,” Benrey says, obviously not paying attention.
“Okay, Dad,” Joshua says.
Downstairs, a car horn honks. Gordon twitches. “It’s - I’m only gone for two days, and I can come right back if you need me to, okay?”
Joshua looks up at him and nods. Benrey doesn’t react.
“Call me if you need anything, okay? And I’ll call tonight when the plane lands. Oh, make sure you finish off the open jar of applesauce before you start a new one - I know it’s the cheaper brand, but they really taste the same and it’s -”
The horn honks again and Gordon swears, then apologizes to his giggling son. He starts to step outside, then stops and steps back in to smack a whiskery kiss to Joshua’s round cheek - then autopilot kicks in and he moves his head three inches to kiss Benrey’s sharper cheek as well. “Be good, okay?”
Joshie nods with a grin, and Gordon knows he will be. It’s the other one he’s worried about. But there’s no time - the cab honks again, a longer tone, like the driver is losing patience. Gordon waves at Joshua and grabs his bags as he leaves.
He gets all the way to the cab before he realizes that he kissed Benrey. Casually, on the cheek, like they’re a couple. It was almost second nature - he didn’t even question it.
Gordon settles back in his seat, his mind whirring. Well. Joshie obviously doesn’t mind, and he wasn’t surprised, either, which is. Hm. It gives Gordon something to think about for the next few hours, at least. He has no idea how Benrey will react - hell, he isn’t even sure Benrey noticed.
As if on cue, Gordon’s phone buzzes. He pulls it out and smiles at the lockscreen - Benrey had stolen his phone and taken a dozen selfies of himself and Joshua with baking soda all over them from a school science volcano mishap, then set one as Gordon’s background and a different one as his lockscreen. He'd also gotten baking soda and vinegar inside the charging port, but he cleaned it out later - after it started to smell and Gordon yelled at him enough about it.
Okay, maybe Gordon should have noticed this earlier. He swipes open his messages and sees another selfie, this time with Joshua hanging over Benrey’s shoulder and angling the phone to show Benrey’s flushed-red cheeks and the bright pink sweet voice bubbles trailing from his mouth. He looks a bit shell-shocked, and Josh is grinning evilly. He must have swiped the phone right out of Benrey’s hand as soon as Gordon closed the door.
He’s blinking at that image when another text comes through, actually from Benrey this time. see you soon, the message reads - and there’s a red heart emoji at the end.
Well then. Gordon has something to look forward to when he gets home. In the meantime, he braces himself as the cab takes a turn at speed, and carefully sets the photo as his new phone background.
#hlvrai#my words#kiss prompts#snippets#askbox#statesideshift#i had fun making this cute and quick - thank you!!#i wanted the baking soda and vinegar to have a delayed reaction and explode when gordon picked up his phone#but decided that might be too silly#hopefully you enjoy!
59 notes
·
View notes
Text
Heart Skips a Beat - Part 2
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Summary: Natasha faces her worst nightmare when a rescue mission goes wrong…
Warnings: Violence, blood
Word Count: 1837
Part 1
Tags: @blkmxrvel @blackxwidowsxwife @marvelwomen-simp
When Natasha sees your eyes close, she finally comes back to her senses. She squirms away from Steve, crawling under an ambulance and making her way towards you. She ignores Steve telling her to stay put and doesn’t hear Clint telling police officers the direction the bullets came from. All she can think about is bringing you to safety.
The ambulance engine is still running, causing its underside to reach temperatures that make Natasha feel like she is hiding in a furnace. She holds her breath from the fumes as she crawls to the front of the vehicle, throwing her arm out and reaching for your hand.
“Y/N!” she screams. “I’m right here! Hold on!” Her fingertips brush yours and she grabs onto your wrist tightly. You’re bigger and heavier than her, but the adrenaline gives her strength. With a massive heave, she drags you under the ambulance. You smear through the puddle of your own blood and it soaks through the back of your shirt.
There isn’t even enough room for her to lift her head, but she grabs onto both your arms, digging her elbows into the ground and crawling backwards. “I got you, Y/N. I got you,” she pants. But the lack of space and your deadweight make it impossible for her to pull you all the way through, so she backs out from under the ambulance. “Steve, help me!” she shouts.
“Move!” Steve says to her, although his shoulders are too broad to fit in the narrow gap. However, his arms are long enough to reach both of your hands, and all it takes is one big tug for you to come sliding out from the ambulance.
Your eyes fly open suddenly, awakened by the agonizing pain coursing through your shoulder like a lightning bolt. You scream, and as much as it makes Natasha’s heart hurt, she’s glad to see that you’re still alive.
“You guys need to get out of here right now!” Clint yells. “Take the ambulance!”
Steve pulls you into a standing position and wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you onto his shoulders effortlessly. You flop over him like a ragdoll, pain pulsing in your stomach when you bump against his chest.
BOOM.
A bullet shatters the sideview mirror of the ambulance.
“Go, go!” Natasha urges, putting herself between the danger and you and Steve. Steve runs with you to the back of the ambulance and flings the door open. There is no gurney, so Natasha helps him lay you on the floor and climbs in after you.
“Stay with Y/N. I’ll drive,” Steve offers, going around to the front. “Clint, we’re taking Y/N to the Quinjet! Hold the scene down!”
“Copy that!” Clint is just as concerned for your safety, but he knows you’re in good hands. Steve jumps into the driver’s seat and throws the ambulance in reverse.
BOOM.
The windshield explodes.
“Let’s go!” Natasha screams, ducking her head.
“Hold on!” Steve backs into a sharp U-turn. The tires screech as they find traction on the road to accelerate forward.
Natasha practically lays on top of you to prevent you from rolling around. From a shelf, she grabs a handful of gauze packets, tearing them open with her teeth. She rips your shirt open and presses the gauze first to your shoulder, then another to the side of your stomach. You’re completely soaked in blood and it continues to pump out of you with each heartbeat. Your face has faded to a sickly pale.
“N-Nat,” you whisper, trying to move but pinned down by the pain. “N-Nat—”
“Shh, it’s okay,” she comforts. “Just keep your eyes open for me, okay?”
You see the blood smeared on her face, her neck, and her hands, too delirious to remember that it’s yours. “A-Are you h-hurt?” you stammer.
Natasha wants to laugh and cry at the same time. You’re so in love with her that even in the face of death you don’t even think about yourself. “No, I’m fine,” she says, grabbing onto your hand and interlocking your fingers. She looks over at Steve, veering through parked cars and roadblocks. “Can we hurry it up a little?” she asks in panic, even though she knows he’s driving as fast as he can.
“I’m trying!” Steve swerves around a fire hydrant and the sudden movement jolts everyone in the ambulance. Natasha presses down on you too hard and you grunt in pain.
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “We’re almost there. We’re almost there.”
Your vision fades into fuzzy shapes and blurred colors. Even breathing seems to be too much of a task for you. Steve parks behind the Quinjet and comes around to help carry you in.
“Do you need me to go with you?” Steve asks as he lays you across the back seats of the Quinjet.
“No.” Natasha shakes her head. “Stay and help Barton.”
Steve doesn’t even try to argue. “We’ll find who did this, Nat. I promise.” He goes to the controls at the front and presses a few buttons. “The coordinates for the Tower are set. You’ll autopilot all the way there. Just make sure to update the medical team on Y/N’s condition.”
“Thanks, Steve.”
“Everything will be okay.” He places his hand on Natasha’s shoulder for a moment before jogging back to the ambulance. As soon as he’s off the Quinjet, the door raises shut and the engines blast on. You’re several states away from New York, but at the speeds the plane can travel, you should be there in minutes. You just have to hang on until then.
Natasha leaves your side only to grab more gauze, pressing it against your bullet wounds to slow the bleeding. She rolls you to your side so there’s no pressure on your front or back, but grimaces when she sees that your back looks as bad as your front.
“N-Nat,” you try whispering again, but she is quick to shush you.
“Not now, okay? Just stay awake for me, Y/N.”
You’ve never felt so weak before. It feels like you were hit by a bus and ground up by its tires. Your mind processes in slow-motion—probably a side effect of the blood loss—and you already forgot how you got into the Quinjet. But the physical pain isn’t your greatest concern anymore. You just don’t want to lose your fight and leave her.
Natasha fits an oxygen mask around your face and the cool air is comforting, but you know your time is ticking away. You don’t notice the Quinjet hiss to a landing or acknowledge the team of doctors suddenly hovering over you.
“We’ll do the surgery in room six!”
“Prep a blood transfusion!”
“Two gunshot wounds from a large-caliber gun!”
The doctors move you to a gurney and wheel you off the Quinjet. Natasha holds onto your hand as they take you to the surgery room, but a doctor stops her from entering with you.
“No, Romanoff. You gotta stay out here. We’ll take it from here.”
Natasha doesn’t fight back, letting your fingers slip through hers as you disappear behind the doors.
***********************************************************************
“Any updates?” Clint and Steve finally arrive a few hours later, but you’re still in surgery.
“Not yet.” Natasha paces the kitchen anxiously. Although she found the time to wash your blood off her hands and face, she hasn’t changed out of her uniform yet.
“Nat, you should get cleaned up. Y/N isn’t going anywhere,” Clint says.
“I know, I just…I want to be there when—” She can’t finish her sentence, falling into Clint’s arms and crying into his shoulder.
“Y/N is a fighter, remember?” Clint says, rubbing her back.
“But the amount of blood—”
“Super soldiers don’t go down easy,” Steve reminds her. “Y/N will pull through. And besides, you’ll be there to help with the recovery.”
Natasha nods, pulling away from Clint and wiping her face. “I’m sorry I froze when I saw Y/N get shot—”
“What are you apologizing for?” Clint asks.
“I don’t know—I put you all in danger because I couldn’t get myself out of the way—” she hiccups.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Steve assures. “In fact, you were the one who dragged Y/N to safety, remember? I couldn’t fit under the ambulance and Clint was just sitting around like a duck—”
“Excuse you,” Clint interrupts, and Natasha smiles thinly.
“So, did you find who did this?” she asks.
“Uh—” Clint and Steve look at each other awkwardly. “Natasha, we—”
“Did you find them?” Natasha repeats with more force. Clint motions for Steve to explain.
“That’s the thing,” Steve says. “We don’t know who did this. We scoped out the whole area with the police. We went out more than a mile, but we couldn’t find anything. No shell casings, nothing.”
“Oh, so you’re telling me a ghost shot and tried to kill Y/N?” Natasha scoffs.
“No, we…” Steve tries to find the right words. “We think it was a setup, maybe like a hired assassin or something.”
“Who would want to kill Y/N?” Natasha asks.
“That’s what we need to figure out.”
Natasha knows you have a lot of baggage from your past, particularly when you were forced into illegal covert operations by the government. But it’s been a long time since then. You became your own person and changed your life for the better. Unfortunately, not everyone sees the side of you that Natasha and the Avengers do.
When Clint and Steve leave to shower and change, Natasha finally does the same. She dresses in clean clothes and curls up on your shared bed, inhaling your scent through the pillow and blankets.
Sometime later, Clint visits and knocks on the door. “Hey, Nat? Y/N just got out of surgery—” He doesn’t even get a chance to finish his sentence and is almost run over by Natasha as she hurries over to the medical bay. She doesn’t know which specific room they’re keeping you in, but it’s like she’s drawn to your very presence and finds the correct one instantly.
You lie upright in the bed, propped forward with pillows so there’s less pressure on your back. Your right arm is in a sling and your entire torso is wrapped in bandages. An IV drip leads into the veins on your hand, while a blood pouch sends blood into the vein inside of your elbow. You have an oxygen tube up your nose and looped around your ears.
“I heard the doctor went a little overboard on the anesthesia,” Clint says from behind Natasha, startling her. “You know, with the super soldier serum and everything. Y/N will probably be out of it for a while.” Natasha walks to your side and kneels, gently taking your hand. Your skin is clammy and colder than normal, but your pulse beats strongly.
“I’ll be here as long as it takes.” Natasha raises your hand, mindful of the wires around your wrist, and kisses your fingers.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Click here for Part 3!
AN: Thanks for the amazing support from everyone! Definitely didn’t think I’d get that kind of response, but I’m extremely grateful for you all. The next part will reveal the identity of the shooter, so I hope you’ll stick around for that. :) Peace out!
#natasha romanoff x reader#black widow fanfiction#natasha romanoff fanfic#natasha romanoff#black widow#marvel
230 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stay
A/N: This is my entry for CJ’s Twisted Valentine’s Day Challenge. @hufflebucky I hope I did the character justice! ;))
Trope: ‘There’s only one bed’ & “I’ll have a drink but only if you’re buying.”
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Warnings: 18+ content, Smut, fluff, cheating?
Word count: 1945
Main Masterlist
Everything Taglist – @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @swaggysposts @littlegasps @little-baby-vixen @another-stark-sub @supraveng @kahlanmars @marvelgirl7 @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles @fyreball66 @asmigurub @avantgardium-leviosa @imerdwarf @gladiosamicitias
…
Rain.
Just perfect.
Torrential rains seeming to appear out of nowhere from formerly clear skies had you and Steve sprint to find shelter in a nearby alley with a lone canopy lending refuge from the downpour. Then again this weather wasn’t unexpected since you were in London, a city famous for unpredictable showers.
Most of the damage was done since you had a minor injury to your ankle and Steve didn’t want to leave you behind.
Panting heavily as you leaned against the brick wall, Steve threw a concerned glance at your leg before mirroring your stance.
“Is your wound bleeding?”
“It wasn’t back at the building.”
Your damp trousers made it a bit hard to peel them back to inspect the injury and so did the limited source of light, when you did, there was in fact a sizable cut and blood spewing from it, making it quite clear that you’d be needing first-aid.
“We need to get that wrapped up. Our hotel isn’t far from here, you think you can walk?” Steve frowned, looking around to find no cabs, it was way past midnight and not a soul on the street.
“Y-yes. I think I can manage.”
You leaned on him for support and limped ungracefully, stopping every now and then before the Captain lifted you up bridal style and proceeded to hurry up the lobby to your hotel - a rather quaint bed and breakfast chosen for your stay for this particular mission.
Chilly air made you shiver and huddle closer to his warm chest, though the two of you were soaked, he seemed warmer somehow.
Maybe it was a super soldier thing, you wondered.
After placing you on the wooden chair in your room and shutting the door, Steve asked permission to lift up your pants to reveal the wound which looked nastier than before, it had turned dark and had swollen quite a bit.
“I’ll call for a first-aid kit from downstairs.”
“Don’t. I have one lying in my bag.” You nodded towards the closet where you’d kept your kit just in case.
He cleaned the injury carefully before wrapping it up in medical gauze and a roller bandage before smiling.
“Were you prepared for this to happen?”
“Hey not all of us have super healing powers. Besides, you know how clumsy I can be.”
He chuckled before letting his fingers graze over the exposed skin of your leg, his blue eyes fixed on yours, making you forget that you were shivering and dripping wet.
“Ah! I’m a fucking idiot.” You exclaimed suddenly.
“Whoa language (Y/N). What’s wrong?”
“Should’ve taken a shower before this.”
You muttered, pointing to your freshly bandaged foot. The weariness from your mission had begun to creep up on you and all you wanted was to bathe, eat and sleep, precisely in that order.
It must’ve slipped Cap’s mind too as he seemed to have an ‘oh shit’ face, before helping you stand up.
“Call me if you need help in there.” He called out, making your eyebrows travel up at the boldness.
“Look at you all flirty Mr Rogers. Thank you but I think I can manage.”
‘Mr Rogers’ stirring something inside of him that secretly made him wish you would ask for his aid in the bathroom as he stared at your back before you closed the door behind you.
You managed to take a shower somewhat awkwardly, careful not to disturb the dressing before another string of profanities slipped from your mouth.
“Umm..Steve?”
“Do you need a towel?”
He answered before you could ask, his shuffling feet approached the door faster than you thought, giving you no time to cover your naked form.
Like a gentleman, he covered his eyes before handing you the towel and turning around, not leaving the room.
“You can leave, I’ll waddle out.” You said quietly, wrapping the fluffy towel around yourself.
“Not a chance. You’ll end up tripping over something, let me help you change. I swear I won’t look.”
He said with finality, eyes still closed, a little curt nod as if to warn himself not to peak.
After helping you dress in comfortable sleepwear, Steve sat you on your bed and checked his beeping phone with his brows knitted together.
“Something wrong?”
“My plane got delayed.”
“Oh.”
Your face gave nothing away, but on the inside you were relieved that you wouldn’t be spending the night alone. You knew Steve was supposed to meet up with Sharon Carter, you also weren’t alien to him being old-school in so many ways, so much so that he hadn’t the courage to ask her out properly yet.
“Are you getting a room here then?” You regretted asking the question instead of offering to share as realization hit Steve and he walked out of your room after muttering a quick ‘right, I probably should.’
Thirty minutes passed with you surfing mindlessly through channels on the television after having ordered room service, waiting to hear from Steve, when you received a text.
Hey doll, turns out they don’t have any rooms left and it’s too late to go look for another hotel. I’m at the bar. You should get some sleep. - Steve
Rolling your eyes at the message, you threw on a jacket over the pjs you had and made your way to the bar where Steve sat nursing a glass of scotch whiskey.
“Alright what are we drinking?” You took a seat next to him, much to his surprise.
“I thought you were asleep.”
“I couldn’t leave you here all alone and mopey about not having a place to stay. Besides, I could use a drink.”
“So a pity stay?” He teased, downing the rest of the amber liquid.
“Believe what you have to Cap. I’ll have a drink but only if you’re buying.”
“Yes ma’am.”
You smirked, while the bartender brought you a glass of your favourite whiskey on the rocks, the fact that Steve knew your drink of choice was surprising.
.
The clock showed 3:00AM when you and Steve returned to your room. Two glasses of liquid courage working wonders in keeping your body in a warm buzz while pushing Steve’s worries about sharing a bed far far away.
Steve began peeling his clothes off while you made no attempts of giving him privacy to do so, getting under the covers and leaning against the headboard.
“Enjoying the view?”
“I’d be lying if I said no.”
A quick run to the bathroom later Steve got under the sheets next to you, wearing his white tank and dark colored bottoms.
“Good night (Y/N). Thanks again for letting me stay here.”
“You’re welcome Steve.”
The bed suddenly seemed small now that a tall muscular super soldier was occupying it along with you. He turned to face you as you did the same, not quite done with the conversation yet but not knowing what to say either.
Silence hung heavy as the berry scent of your shower gel filled Steve’s senses, the way your body heat radiated towards him, the way you were angled facing him almost close enough to touch, he was grateful for the sheets covering his tenting bottoms.
“So how are things with your boyfriend? John was it?” He asked bitterly, staring down at his crossed arms.
“Not great. Pretty sure I’m dumping him after we get back.”
Your answer made Steve’s heart soar, a light blush appeared on his cheeks evident in the little light your room was bathed in.
“Well I’m sorry.”
“Are you?”
“What?”
He looked up to find your face closer to his, eyes flitting towards his lips, hot breath reaching his skin.
“Then I shouldn’t feel guilty for doing this.”
Steve’s hands found the side of your neck while his lips brushed against yours testing at first but when you captured his bottom lip with your teeth and shifted closer, his other arm found your waist and pulled you against his chest.
He pushed you gently, laying you on the bed carefully and hovering over you, settling between your legs. Breaking the kiss abruptly, you stared into his lust-filled eyes, hardly in any blue left in those, breaths mingling as you both smiled panting, your fingers weaving through his short blonde hair at the nape of his neck.
“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.” Steve admitted, the blush on his cheeks returning.
“Well I’m glad you did now.”
You whispered, brushing your thumb against his cheek before he dipped down to kiss you again. Wasting no time in running his tongue along your closed lips, he deepened the kiss as your arms went around his shoulders, spurring him on. You sighed when Steve moved his lips over to your neck, placing feather-light pecks all over the skin before finding your junction and sucking there, driving you insane.
He sat up on his knees to rid you of your clothing, before undressing himself down to his boxers and resuming his actions.
“So beautiful..”
His large hands palmed your breasts, kneading and pinching your hardened nipples before replacing his hands with his mouth.
“S-steve. I want you.”
You whined, pulling on his hair as you felt his clothed erection poking against your inner thigh. His hands slid down between the valley of your breasts, down to your stomach and reached your mound, stopping where you wanted him the most.
Silently asking permission before your hips lifted off the bed granting it, Steve groaned when his fingers found your slick opening, wanting, aching for him. He brushed your folds, thumb grazing over your bundle of nerves before plunging a finger inside, eliciting a gasp from your lips. You clenched your walls around his digit to show just how much you needed him, while he chuckled against the skin of your neck.
Desperately, you pushed his boxers down and wrapped your fingers around his cock, pumping a few times as he groaned against your ear before lining it over your entrance.
Steve pushed in, slowly, intimately, inch by inch stretching you out as your warmth enveloped him, soon fully sheathed inside you. He gave you time to adjust for a moment before pulling almost all the way out and thrust back in, making you grab his shoulder as you cried out.
Soon he set a steady rhythm, driving in and out of you at a pace that had you rush closer and closer to the edge as your pants and mewls echoed into the night. Steve snaked a hand between your bodies and rubbed your clit in circles, whispering words that sent your senses into overdrive as your orgasm washed over you, body trembling underneath his, back arching off the bed while he held you close, never stopping his thrusts.
He chased his own end while you still rode out yours, hips slamming into yours at a rapid pace as your walls still fluttered around his cock. Hiding his face in the crook of your neck, he grunted loudly as you felt his cum paint your walls, cock twitching inside you.
Steve cleaned you up before pulling the sheets over the two of you, kissing your forehead tenderly as you snuggled to his side.
“Thank God your plane got delayed.” You mumbled sleepily.
“Thank God you made me stay.”
Outside, the sun began peaking through the horizon, the sky turning lighter by the minute as the two of you closed your eyes, sleep welcoming instantly.

#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers smut#captain america x reader#captain america smut#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers fluff#steve rogers fanfiction#marvel writing challenge#fanfiction writing challenge#captain america fandom#marvel fanfiction#mostly marvel musings
221 notes
·
View notes
Text
Twisted Soulmate shorts.
Listen, I do plan on making a sequel eventually, but in the meantime, can I tempt you with some half assed bits of Tim’s life as Ra’s Bonded/Bride/Unwilling Sugar baby? All in the spirit of putting off studying for my finals :D
~.~
“We need some ground rules”, Tim stated plainly, staring at the fiery hell in front of them. By his side, Ra’s sipped his wine glass, as cozy in front of all the destruction as one would standing by a fireplace. He looked ready to break out the s'mores. “Some Do’s and Do not’s, with penalties for each one we break. So, you know. We don’t completely destroy each other.”
“Be honest with me, Beloved, would that actually stop you from infringing damage to my properties?”
In the spirit of good sportsmanship, Tim actually thought about it for a few minutes.
~.~
Or; Tim elopes with Ra’s and commits to his role as the world’s most unimpressed, reluctant bride ‘soulmate’. Featuring Pru (who is having entirely too much fun), four little minions (whoever catches the reference and knows which fandom I stole them from gets brownie points) and absolutely no sign of any bats to spoil Tim’s fun.
~.~
~.~
The robe was green, and that was a problem. It wasn’t itchy, it wasn’t uncomfortable, it wasn’t restrictive.
But it was green.
Pru’s eyes found his in the mirror, a scowl and a smirk facing each other. Tim crossed his arms, the exquisite silk not even creasing, and his frown deepened. One of the robe’s sleeves covered him from shoulder to wrist, the other leaving the opposite limb completely bare. The intent was obvious enough, one mark on display, the others hidden away like dirty secrets.
So why the need for that branding color?
“Isn’t this excessive? Putting a collar on me may be easier, for his purpose.”
“Should I forward that idea to the Master?”
“Only if you want another punch to the nose.”
A snort, and Pru took the two steps keeping her at his back. Her hand dropped to his shoulder, and the expression on the assassin’s face changed to a far more serious one.
“Are you sure you want to do this? I could help you out of the base. Still owe you a few, we can call this one even for that time in Budapest.”
Tim’s scowl went away, a contemplative look on his eyes as they lowered to the ground.
“I’m not sure of anything nowadays, Pru. Except perhaps that I don’t want to wear this color.”
Her grip tightened for a second, two, three. Then, her eyes flew to the window and back to him before her next words came out, fake smirk back on place.
“Well then, the Master expects you to join him for breakfast. We’ll be moving bases soon, and I think he wanted to give you the tour before that.”
Tim’s eyes, that had followed hers to the window, stayed there, guarded and cold like they never were. He nodded.
“I’ll be there shortly. Just need to… fix my appearance a bit.”
She nodded, her smirk more sincere now, and left his bedchambers.
The shadows jumped into the room before the door was even halfway closed.
A little over half an hour later, Ra’s Al Ghul looked up from the reports he was revising, cup of tea still untouched on the table, pastries and fruits perfectly distributed in front of him, to watch the Detective approach.
His robe was a curious maroon.
As if sensing his question, the young man took his place across from the Demon’s head, placid smile softening his features despite ice cold eyes boring into his.
“Oh, this?”, demurely, he raised the covered arm, accepting the coffee one of his servants provided. The sleeve slipped down enough to show three names on white skin, but Ra’s eyes strayed to the clothe. He knew that shade of brownish.
“I could have sworn I sent you green robes, Detective. I do wonder, where did you find a dye?”
“As I’m sure Pru can tell you, noses bleed a lot. On the bright side, you don’t have to worry about sending a clean up crew to tidy up my bedchambers. Nice morning workout, too, thank you.”
Amused despite himself, Ra’s threw his head back and laughed.
----.---
“We need some ground rules”, Tim stated plainly, staring at the fiery hell in front of them. By his side, Ra’s sipped his wine glass, as cozy in front of all the destruction as one would standing by a fireplace. He looked ready to break out the s'mores. “Some Do’s and Do not’s, with penalties for each one we break. So, you know. We don’t completely destroy each other.”
“Be honest with me, Beloved, would that actually stop you from infringing damage to my properties?”
In the spirit of good sportsmanship, Tim actually thought about it for a few minutes. “I mean, as long as you respect my boundaries, I won’t have a reason to show my displeasure.”
“And what about my boundaries? It’s only reasonable that for each rule you decide on, I get to demand one of my own making.”
“If they don’t conflict with mine, I guess I could learn to work around them. Considering what you do for a living, it’s not like you can ask for more.”
Ra’s tilted his head, as if saying ‘yeah, fair’. They watched the flames consuming one of Ra’s favored castles in silence for a while longer. The parisian authorities would be arriving soon, though no before they were ready to leave; Ra’s wouldn’t allow any interruptions.
They were probably making the ninja standing guard behind them uncomfortable, with the silence, veiled threats and mind games. Except for Pru. She’d be thriving in her fellows’ fear.
“Should we go somewhere more private to decide this rules, Timothy?”
A shake, long raven locks hitting the air like small whips, and the young hero turned on his heel to go back to the plane waiting for them.
“I need some time to think them over. I’ll let you know when I decide.”
---.---
Is the Demon’s Head, instead, who demands the first one.
“You will allow a squad of my people around you at all times, Detective, and you’ll let them tend to you as it’s becoming of my bride.”
“If you ever call me your bride again”, states the young man, calmly turning a page on the book he was reading, curled up in the armchair Ra’s had specifically made his men drag into his office for the sole purpose of tempting him into staying put and in Ra’s direct line of sight, “the next base I make go boom will be the one you’re in at that moment.”
“My soulmate.”
“Still creepy, but significantly less; I’ll accept it. What were you saying about bodyguards? The answer is no, by the way, but I thought it would be fair to let you explain your reasoning before shooting you down again.”
“I have no need for explaining myself; you were the one to suggest rules. This is merely the first one. As it is, and since you asked so nicely, I’ll tell you that, as my bonded, you have a price in your head so high even the purest of heart man would be tempted to hunt you down. It’s merely for your safety, as I worry so.”
The dirty look the younger gives him over his book shows him exactly what he thinks of Ra’s obvious jab at his abilities and strength.
“There’s also the matter of your lack of sleep, or the blatant underweight you’re showing.”
“I don’t need a nanny nor a bodyguard, Ra’s.”
“Maybe so, but what would my enemies think of my power if I couldn’t spare a few men to protect my bonded? You can think of it as a political tactic, if it’ll lay your worries at rest. It won’t be to spy on you, as I already have a team dedicated to that.”
Not even a blink, of course he knew, he’d be an idiot to think Ra’s was giving him wiggle room without someone hounding his steps. A hum, the flicker of something behind the man’s eyes that put Ra’s instantly on guard, but not enough to help him predict his next movement.
“You know that any rule you make, I can counter with one of my own.”
“I do, and am ready to honor, as it’s the nature of our deal. I’m a man of my word.”
“Okay then”, the detective finally conceded, sitting up straight, book closed on his lap and hands resting easily over the cover. “I’ll accept your terms, and won’t give my future clique the slip.”
Despite this small victory, Ra’s didn’t allow himself to relax; now came the detective’s countermeasure.
Calmly as still water, the slim man stood up, walking towards Ra’s desk, opening the book on its first page and softly placing in on the wood between them. One slice of paper, carefully folded, gave the Demon’s Head pause.
“Since you insist this is for show, and thus not requiring specific skills on the ninja’s part, I’m going to choose who will be part of my clique. After all, I’ll be in perpetual close quarters with these people, it’s only fair I get to decide who it’ll be.”
Ra’s eyes never left the icy blue ones staring him down. It’d be a fatal mistake to let one’s sight wander when there was a viper in the room.
“Prudence is already tasked with managing your schedule, she can’t be considered among these you selected.”
“She isn’t”, was fired back. “These aren’t fully fledged ninja, they have just begun their training. As such, I can make sure their progress aligns with my needs, something that will make them more useful in the long run if they are to be my shadows. A sniper that can socially blend in as a perfect camaleon. A prodigy, both in mind games and the technological world. A mechanic well versed in a caregiver tasks. A naturally born fighter, showed proficiency particularly on swords and hand to hand. I think those four tick every box you might want to fill, don’t you?”
A few seconds pass, while Ra’s tries to think back on every newish recruit who had the described qualities. He couldn’t come with a single one. Too many variables.
Despite himself, he nods. His bonded lifts his hand from the desk, and picks up his book on his way to the door, not looking back while Ra's unfolds the list.
He feels himself freeze.
“Children?”
Timothy has already left the room. Ra's can't help but feel pride. As foolish as he thinks his bonded's mission to be, he has to admire his dedication to it, and Timothy had just spent the equivalent of a Genie's first wish with the purpose of freeing four young ones from the League's training and future.
-----.-----
Tim is looking down at his three 'bodyguards', knowing he made the right call but still feeling the panic creeping up on him. Like, fuck, this was clearly an evil organization, as no self respecting moral one would allow him to be responsible of four impressionable, probably traumatized children.
L, P, H and K. 9, 7, 10 and 9 respectively. All sitting down, hands on their laps, eyes down. Ready to obey any order.
Fuck, he wanted to puke.
Breathing in deeply, he crouched in front of them. Tried for a smile. Too forced. Settled for a grimace.
“My name is Tim”, he started, “and you're safe with me. I'll train you, protect you from the League as much as possible, and try my best to help you escape if I find a better place for you.”
He doesn't bother lying for appearances sake. Ra's must know Tim's reasons for choosing children (too good, would be noticed soon by their teachers, would be under Ra's thumb sooner rather than later), but it didn't matter. Even if Tim managed to get them away, it was his right. For all intents and purposes, as far as the League was concerned, he owned them. Not that he was going to tell them that: if it made him sick to think that, he can only imagine that information on the children's minds.
They don't seem to believe him, but answer honestly when asked questions about their past. L had (bravely, stupidly) sold himself into servitude to the League to help his family. P, apparently a smart cookie, was sold away by some scientific organization back home when she started asking too many question about the disappearance of her father and brother. One of H's mothers had left the League when she married, and her son was taken away as compensation in the middle of the night, when she couldn't fight back (luckily, as she'd have died and they would have still taken the kid). K was an orphan, sucked into the League too young, but saved by an older apprentice who took him under his wing: said boy was now missing, and K's obvious short fuse wouldn't stand for it long.
He wants to save these children so bad it hurts. Has to remind himself that whatever he will do about this (and he still has to think about it), he won't be able to do for a while.
----.----
He keeps some sort of schedule. Waking up in the morning, breakfast with Ra's unless previously canceled by the other man, training his new minions, break a fight between L and K, lunch, give them numerous tasks to get them off his back (keeping one close for appearances sake; they were his bodyguards after all, or would be after some training), wander along whichever base they were at the moment, tea with Ra's, picking up his brats, wander some more and some time for them to play like actual children, dinner, bed. Rinse repeat.
Some variations, however, were inevitable.
Groaning Tim rolled on his back, silken sheets under him and around his legs, to look at the four little heads waiting by his bedside, various degrees of alarm there.
“What is it?”
H's hand gripped tighter L's, who had the other arm wrapped around P. K was standing in front of them, dagger at the ready.
“The base is under attack. We await our instructions, Master.”
“Tim”, he reminded the child, before yawning. “Who is it again?”
This time, the youngest and only girl talked. “We are not sure. Said something about The Demon's Head being their archenemy and/”
“Then it's a Ra's problem, not a Us problem. Let the man handle it, he has enough manpower as it is, and even if he doesn’t, he's due for a swim anytime now”, dropping his head and closing his eyes once again, he vaguely waved a hand in their general direction. “You guys go back to bed, just be careful and lock the door in case some of Ra's worst people let someone wander.”
“We can't possibly leave you! What if you're attacked? We'd be too far away to protect you!” K’s tiny hand tightened around his knife. “We'd fail our mission!”
Reigning in a groan, he gave it a thought. They had a point, in that were anything to happen, he risked not being close enough to keep the children safe.
Sighing, he waved a hand again.
“Okay, you guys can stay, but we are not getting up. It's like five am, I went to sleep less than an hour ago.”
P jumped in place and frowned at him. “We escorted you here right after dinner.”
“That you did. Anyway, cuddle piles anyone?”
L jumped right in, as he expected, worming his way under the sheets until he could cuddle to Tim's left side, dragging H behind him. P seemed to think about it, but if the dark circles under her eyes (and his informants) were to be trusted, she'd probably slept as much as him, most assuredly looking into her family's disappearance. She finally fell on his other side, instantly groaning.
K looked at all of them in disappointment, and stubbornly sat down behind P, his back to them and facing the door. Tim wondered what it would take to get the kid to chill.
Shrugging (you can't win them all), he went back to sleep.
By the time he really woke up, it was to an amused Pru holding hauntingly a camera and smirking down at him. All four kids were now cuddled around him.
“Shut up, Pru. Like you can talk. I saw you giving L that practice gun the other day, don't think I didn't.”
#twisted soulmate#soulmate au#nemesis au#Tim drake#Ra's al Ghul#Pru#four small minions Tim's gonna steal from Ra's#those are a reference to another fandom I love#brownie points to whoever notices the reference#spy vs spy kinda thing#Tim drake is an unwilling sugar baby#Ra's is all too happy to play sugar daddy for this kid#Ra's is creepy#my writting#my writing#Red robin
166 notes
·
View notes
Text
Once Upon A Summer (Ch.3)
Tony was tired. It had only been a few days, but taking care of Peter was repetitive and draining. He actually wanted to go to a meeting just so he could get some more adult interaction. Sure, Stephen's brief visits to make sure he hadn't killed Peter were helping keep him sane, but he needed more. Either he was going to have to grab Peter and take him out into the public, or he would have to beg Stephen to stay longer than he has been. Which wasn't going to happen. Tony Stark didn't beg, and he also didn't want to deal with the public when they saw him with a baby.
So he found himself in his lab more often than not. Tony would get the playpen set up in the lab and put Peter in it with some of his toys before he mindlessly tinkered and built. The first day he was actually productive, but as the days passed, Tony ended up on auto pilot. Half the time he didn't even know what he was working on. He just knew he was tired and going stir crazy with mostly just a six month old baby to talk to.
He wished Stephen would stick around more. Despite the mountains of sarcasm that passed between them, Tony enjoyed his company. He enjoyed looking into blue eyes that always seemed to change colors every time he looked into them, he enjoyed their back and forth, and he even liked watching Stephen with Peter. The sorcerer always put up a front with Tony, but whenever he played with the baby or did anything with him, he softened. Any stress lines Stephen had melted away, and sometimes the softness even carried over to Tony.
Whenever it did, Tony wasn't really sure how to receive it. No one ever really showed him that kind of kindness. They were just as sarcastic and rude to him as he was with them and Tony never really realized it until all of this happened. He was actually glad Peter got caught in a magical fight.
Even if it meant he woke Tony up every two to three hours because of teething pains.
"...ark...Tony…Tony!"
Tony sits up with a jolt and looks around in alarm. He didn't even know when he had dozed off, but the small puddle of drool on his workbench was evidence enough as well as embarrassing. He subtly wipes the corner of his mouth with a nearby rag before using it to clean up the small puddle before finally looking around to see what woke him. Based off the position of the sun outside, only an hour had passed and a quick glance at the playpen found Peter fast asleep. Maybe a dream woke him up?
"Tony."
The engineer looks back toward his workbench and jumps in his seat when he finds Stephen standing on the other side of it. "I should probably tell you I'm a heart patient."
"Normally I'd be concerned that you just wiped your mouth with a dirty rag, but it's you so it's probably a common occurrence." Stephen replies as he walks over to look down at Peter in the playpen. "How long has he been sleeping?"
"I dunno. Probably about as long as me." Tony looked at his watch and was both glad and disappointed to find that his earlier assumption was correct and only an hour had passed. "Maybe half an hour."
The sorcerer nods. "Have you left the tower since you brought Peter home a few days ago?"
"I don't have the energy to deal with the tabloids if anyone saw me with Pete as he is right now." Tony admits. "I don't even have the energy to have nightmares."
Stephen gave him an odd look for the last bit but Tony just shook his head. He didn't want to get into it. He had nightmares about so many different things, but what he said was the truth. He was a little sleep deprived so his nightmares didn't get a chance to plague him because Peter would wake him up before they got a chance to. Tony still hadn't decided if he was happy about it or not.
"You look like you could use a change of scenery." Stephen observes.
"You know what? I do." Tony admits. "I rebuilt my mansion in Malibu...maybe you can use a vacation too."
"I--" Stephen looks between Tony and Peter. "I'm sure Wong can take care of things for a little while."
Tony looks at the sorcerer in surprise. "Really?"
"Were you not inviting me?"
"Of course I was! I need help with Pete anyway."
Tony wanted to facepalm. Why in the world did he say that? He used Peter as an excuse to invite Stephen to Malibu with them, and while he did need help with the baby, he wouldn't mind actually spending time with the sorcerer. He needed the adult companionship. The Avengers all sort of did their own thing and Rhodey was busy with the Air Force so Tony would take what he could get.
And Stephen was nothing to sneeze at.
"Right...of course. I can take us there whenever you want." Stephen offers and Tony makes a face.
"We can take the jet."
Stephen looks at him with a raised brow. "You want to take a six month old baby on a plane for six hours?"
"...Touché. You mind watching Peter while I get some stuff together?" Tony asks and sighs when the baby chooses that moment to wake up and sit up.
"Go ahead. I can still watch him. I can even take him to the Sanctum and pack."
"Just be careful."
Tony could tell that Stephen was keeping himself from rolling his eyes but neither of them said anything as they went their separate ways. He went upstairs to pack some clothes and things for Peter, and Stephen scooped up the baby and disappeared through a gateway he made. Tony looked at some of the baby furniture around the penthouse when he arrived on the floor but decided that he didn't want to lug any of it. Even through one of Stephen's gateways. So he asked FRIDAY to order some more of the furniture and have it delivered to the mansion as soon as possible. Then he went upstairs and threw some of his things into a duffel bag before he packed a bag for Peter which he filled with everything he needed and then some extra. He even grabbed some of the teen's regular clothes in case by some miracle he changed back to his normal self while they were in Malibu. Tony didn't have anything for Peter at the mansion yet, but he figured it was time to get a room set up for him.
"Did you pack his food?" Stephen asks and Tony jumps and holds his hand to his pounding chest.
"Heart patient!" Tony drops his hand and grabs the bags. "You of all people should understand what that means! And yes, I packed food. I had FRIDAY order furniture and send it to the house too."
Stephen nods and shifts Peter into one of his arms so he can free his hands and make a gateway to the mansion. "Seems a waste of money but I wouldn't want to drag it all around either."
"Precisely."
Tony gathers the bags as well as the one Stephen brought and steps through the gateway with a little less hesitation. Magic still put him on edge but he felt he could trust Stephen, and the younger man really was doing Tony a favor by doing this anyway. Taking Peter on the jet for six hours would have been a nightmare.
When Stephen follows Tony through the gateway, it closes behind them as the sorcerer looks around. The layout was nearly identical to the previous mansion since Tony was pretty happy with it, and he didn't miss the curiosity in Stephen's eyes when he saw the grand piano. The sorcerer gently places baby Peter down on the floor with a few of his toys, and once he makes sure the infant is adequately occupied, Stephen walks over to the piano before looking at Tony.
"May I?" He asks softly.
"Sure. Make yourself at home. What do you want for lunch? I'll order something." Tony offers.
"I'm not picky." Stephen shrugs and sits down at the piano.
The music that filled the air shortly after was nice to listen to but it was obvious that Stephen's hands affected his playing. Tony wouldn't say anything because it probably took a lot of courage to play with people listening, and it was nice to listen to. Even Peter seemed entranced by the music. He sat on the floor staring at the sorcerer, drooling on the block he was holding to his mouth, and it made Tony smile. There may have been night after sleepless night since Peter was turned into a baby, but he was a cute one. Peter watched Stephen with such awe that Tony was actually a little jealous.
He couldn't blame the kid...and Peter was easily impressed even as a baby. Anything Tony did made Peter happy. Even sneezing... whatever that was about.
A sudden wrong note pulls Tony out of his thoughts and Stephen sighs. "Don't worry about it. It sounded great." Tony assures quickly.
"...thank you."
"Even Pete was hypnotized." Tony chuckles as Stephen gets up and walks back over to the baby.
"Is that right?" Stephen smiles and pokes the baby's tummy, drawing a laugh from him. "How about some cereal puffs?"
Peter bounces with excitement when Stephen pulls Peter's bag closer and pulls out the container of puffs, and he drops his block when the sorcerer offers him one. The softness that Stephen only seemed to show Peter immediately surfaced when the baby babbled happily between strawberry flavored cereal puffs and Tony was glad to see it. The stress and frown lines were gone and Stephen was more beautiful than ever--
Tony should probably stop staring.
"FRIDAY, order my usual from the pizza place." Tony says.
"Yes, Boss. It should arrive within the hour."
"Thanks sweetheart."
"Umm…" Stephen looks up from Peter after giving him another puff. "Where will I be sleeping by the way?"
Tony grins. "I've got a king sized bed in my room." When Stephen looks at him flatly he sighs dramatically. "There's a bedroom next to mine you can use. It's eventually going to be Peter's but you can use it for now. Would have been nice to have another warm body in my bed though."
"I'm sure it would be." Stephen says dryly.
Tony smiles and walks over to dig through Peter's bag and grabs everything he needs to make Peter a bottle. Once he's finished with that, he leaves the formula on the counter for a later time and takes the bottle over to Stephen after shaking it to mix it. In the meantime, the sorcerer had dug out the portable changing pad and was in the middle of changing Peter's diaper when Tony gave the bottle to the baby.
"How about a movie and lunch?" Tony says. "I'd say the beach but I'm not sure how good of an idea that is with Peter."
"He might try to eat the sand." Stephen points out.
"Unless I hold him. He might like to get his feet wet. There's a cabana down there too."
Stephen looks out the floor to ceiling windows and then back at Peter to finish changing his diaper. "You have a pool. He can get his feet wet in that."
"That's true." Tony shrugs. "So movie, lunch, and tire the tyke out in the pool?"
"I don't have swim trunks."
"You wearing underwear?"
Stephen turns red. "Well...yes."
"Just wear those." Tony shrugs and leans down to pick up Peter when he was finished being diapered and dressed. "Hey kiddo. Feeling better?"
"Why am I the one changing him anyway?" Stephen mumbles to himself.
Tony didn't bother answering him. He just sat on the couch with Peter and turned on a movie that he let Stephen choose. When the pizza arrived, the sorcerer got up to get their food and then brought it back for them to eat while they finished their movie. It was a nice change in pace even though he was still inside. Stephen would periodically make a comment about the movie, and even one time they argued about the scientific accuracy of... something. Tony sort of forgot what the problem was part way through their argument because Stephen was distracting. Peter interrupted them with a loud belch that Tony swore shook the walls and it sent both men into a fit of laughter.
By the time they got around to going out to the pool, Stephen pointed out a problem.
"He needs a swim diaper."
Tony holds Peter out in front of him and frowns. "He's got a diaper on."
"It's not the same. That will soak up all the water and probably fall off." Stephen turns to head inside. "If you give me a few dollars, I can go pick some up."
Tony follows him back inside and grabs his wallet off the counter. He pulls out his card and hands it to Stephen after the sorcerer grabs his sling ring. "Here. Get the special diapers and a pair of swim trunks for yourself."
Stephen disappeared through a gateway and was back not even five minutes later with both items. Tony was given the diapers to change Peter into and Stephen went into his room to change into his swim trunks, and soon enough Tony was back outside with Peter. He carefully descended into the pool until the water was up to his waist and then he held Peter out to dip his feet in the water. The baby's following squeal of happiness almost made Tony cringe from the intensity of it but he couldn't help but laugh when tiny legs kicked in excitement.
"Hey, hey, hey! I'm already in the water!" Tony chuckles and lowers Peter into the water a little more. The baby was squirming in his hands, but Tony had a firm grasp on him. "Remind me to bring you back here when you're back to normal."
"I grabbed some sunblock too." Stephen says as he walks out.
Tony gawked. Stephen was really beautiful in every way. He was even fit. Which of course made sense when the sorcerer used martial arts as a means of defense and fighting.
"Oh...yeah. Good idea." Tony wades over to the side of the pool and he holds Peter on the edge so Stephen can apply the sunblock.
"There." Stephen says when he finishes with Peter and then starts on himself. "You may have been blessed with tan skin but Peter and I will burn like lobsters."
Tony pulls Peter back into the water and the baby splashes happily. "Yeah, he's already teething. I don't want to put sunburn on top of that."
"Thank you by the way." Stephen says softly.
"For the trunks? That's no big deal." Tony says.
"Well, yes...but for inviting me too. I know it was to help with Peter--"
"That was only part of it." Tony blurts out and then clears his throat. "I needed the company...and you looked like you needed a vacation too."
"That's an understatement." Stephen huffs. "I think this was overdue for both of us.
"We can stay as long as you want." Tony says.
"Tempting, but we both have responsibilities." Stephen says as he puts the sunblock aside. "A few days wouldn't hurt though."
Tony smiles. "Sounds good to me. How about you Pete?"
Peter answers with another loud squeal and some more splashing and Tony closes his eyes against the water.
"I think it's safe to say he's happy with the idea." Stephen chuckles.
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Ides Of March
(A Darren Treacy x Jeanie Turner mini-series)
Prologue - Bad Romance
Word Count: 1815
Warnings: language, violence, murder, mention of sexual assault, angst
A/N: On Saint Patrick's Day, Darren and Jeanie start receiving ominous, cryptic text messages claiming to be from the future. Play the game; save Darren. Jeanie's rules are simple enough: If Dazz can catch her out in Dublin, he can have her any way and anywhere he wants. So how did a night of wild sex and whiskey lead to murder? *Spoilers for Love/Hate series 3*
Sequel to “The Sinner’s Prayer” Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
There are tiny moments that contain millions of choices we all make. It's not a choose your own adventure; there's not always time to think cohesively. Add in copious amounts of liquor and sex and a person may become impulsive. As Jeanie cocked the gun pointed in Nidge’s direction, she found herself in the middle of one of those flip-of-the-coin situations.
She followed every hint, every cryptic text from a burner phone that was meant to prevent this exact instant. But the vile leader of an IRA faction lay slowly dying from internal injuries at her feet. Siobhan, softly sobbing hid her face in Tommy’s shoulder. Darren, behind her, still held the keg by the handle. Nidge was the only one who could square up. He was pacing like a trapped animal, enraged and seething. Jeanie never faltered in her aim.
“We're done here, Delaney,” the words came out distorted. “Right now. This was a nice night. I saw a great concert. I drank loads of fucking liquor. I have had more sex in the last few hours than I have in the last few years. I literally got eaten out in a pub loo. I'm getting divorced, and if Trish was smart she'd get a divorce too.”
“Red-” Darren tried.
Jeanie spun on him, the gun pointed too close for either’s comfort. Darren’s eyes like a deer in headlights. “I'm not losing you. I'm not letting this life eat anymore of you. Siobhan already paid the price.”
“Just put the gun down please. I'm only trying t’put him out, love. Look at the bastard.”
“It's a butterfly effect, Dazz. You're already too much for them.” Tears threatened Jeanie’s eyes.
Darren put his hand on the muzzle of the gun cautiously and pointed it down to the floor. “What the fuck are ye talking about? Jeanie, you've been barking all night. Not that I don't appreciate the craic,” he smirked, “Or the shaggin’. The panic attack when we walked through the door earlier. How did ye know about Git?”
Jeanie fished in her cleavage for her mobile and tossed it to Darren. He opened it up and used his own for comparison. He studied the texts on both screens with confusion in his eyes.
“You've been getting them too, right?”
“But how?”
Only Darren and Jeanie existed right now. And the soft gurgling of Git as he drowned in his own blood. The choked crying of a young woman who had been assaulted. They were alone, but aware. So deeply aware of their situation.
“Oh please, can ye even fire a fucking gun?” Nidge’s voice broke through.
Jeanie whirled again, her arm around the side of Darren's friend. It was all fluid. Her arms moved with resistance like underwater. The gun aimed somewhere towards the back of the basement or front. No one was sure. It was just where she pointed the gun and pulled the trigger.
One by one dominos topped in a new pattern. Siobhan screamed, but the sound was deafening so her panic was muted. The gun kicked back causing Jeanie’s elbow to vibrate. Almost like someone checked her reflexes with a small hammer. A burst of concrete where the bullet hit a wall, and Darren dropped the keg with an even louder crash.
In Nidge’s terror, he went to flee from Jeanie's bullet . His entire weight landed on Git’s face. Nidge’s trainer came down with a sickening crunch like a knife in butter. Git’s face was the butter. The gurgle ceased.
The last domino fell. Jeanie dropped the weapon to her side and staggered backwards into Darren’s arms. He tried to take the gun but she jerked it away.
Instead he switched gears and mumbled nonsensical words of comfort. “I've got yous.” and “Jeanie, it'll be ok” She stared up at him as a tremble rolled through her. Darren put his hand on her face and sort of started fixing her hair. Then, with a turn of her head, Jeanie vomited absolutely everywhere.
“Lovely. Just fucking lovely,” Nidge said. “Typical Americans.”
Darren held Jeanie by the arms and bent to look her in the eye. “Alright, sweetheart? Nidge and Tommy and I have t’ take care of this. Why don't ye call Laura or Ewan, and have them come get the pair of ye. Siobhan too? Get her cleaned up and get some sleep. Crash at my gaff, ok?”
Jeanie was numb. Catatonic almost as Darren and Tommy formed a circle. Their heads literally together as they attempted a plan.
Jeanie straightened her back and made her way to Siobhan who held herself tightly. Like she was trying to fade into the background. She put her arms around the young woman who started with a jump but relaxed into Jeanie. The gun finally out of her hands and on the desk beside them.
“Here's what we're gonna do, ok? Do you want me to call Trish or Mary? You aren't gonna clean yourself or even pee. We're gonna take you to hospital. They'll clean you up and take samples. Then we can get you some tea and a warm shower and a nice bed. Dazz has a nice bed. Then I'll get Layton, and bring him to you. That sound good?”
Siobhan nodded softly in agreement, but her uncle wasn't having it. He shoved Darren and Tommy aside to bellow at the two women huddled in the corner together. His finger pointed in Jeanie’s face.
“She’s not gonna do a goddamn thing you say. You're gonna sit right here while Uncle Nidge and the boys clean up this bitch’s mess.”
There was not a single thought that went through Jeanie's head. Was this how Darren's brain was wired to live this lifestyle? Just react and pay for it later while you're trying to live until the next job.
But she was done, she knew that much. Done being left behind. Treated like she was the good little obedient housewife. Having men tell her what she can and can't do. Shut up, sit still and be a good girl. But open your legs. It was being done that caused her to hold the gun up again and point the barrel to Nidge's forehead.
“Darren doesn't work for you anymore, Nigel. Tommy, you can stay here or you can take care of your wife. No one owes him any loyalty.”
“Come on, I didn't mean bitch. We just have to fix it. Then you and Treacy can do whatever.”
Jeanie cocked the gun again until it clicked, “No. You can call Elmo or Fran. Can't call Aido can you? Seeing as you got him shot. Dazz gave you a lung, the love of his life, his sister and his fucking mind. He's not giving you or this bullshit anything else.”
“Red-”
Jeanie swung the gun on Darren without thinking. He flinched and ducked, But she kept her wits about her. She aimed the gun at Nidge once more.
“Dazz, take your shoes off,” she instructed.
“What?”
“You're standing in this cunt’s blood. Take your trainers off and leave them. Socks too, and stand behind me. Then text Ewan and tell him to meet us here with a car. We're going to your flat, then my hotel to pack our bags after we shower and set these clothes on fire. Then we are getting all of our money, our passports and our IDs. Say goodbye to Mary and the girls, and we are going away. Tibet. Phuket. Bali. I don't give a fuck, but we’re flying first class.”
Darren complied. Jeanie couldn't believe it. They shared a look. She couldn't tell if it was relief or the devil in his blazing green eyes, but she was emboldened by it as she bent to take off her own boots. Her focus on Nidge never faltered.
“Ewan said he'll be here in ten or so. Are you sure this is what you want to do?”
“I'm not above shooting this bastard in the head for you, Dazz. I'm not saying we are settling down and having babies and happily ever after or some shit. I'm saying I don't want you to die. If we have to run half way around the world to make that happen..” Jeanie's body started to quiver. The adrenaline was running out. “First I need a Bloody Mary and some French Toast.”
-------
Jeanie exhaled for the first time in nearly 24 hours. The exhaustion finally set in as she laid back in the ridiculous bed chair thing from“upper class.” She and Darren were beyond first class, they were elite now. Even if it was only for the twelve hours it took to get to Thailand.
She could see his far too short hair sticking out on the other side of the wall. She knew at one point he would sneak in to be with her if only for a little while. Jeanie made him look a bit nicer than his typical trainers and hoodies and denim. She was in a sundress herself. They both knew dressing up was not fitting in. Neither felt they fit in here.
“You good, Dazz?”
“I t’ink so. Still trying t’figure out how we went from shagging in coat rooms and back rooms and toilets to watching an IRA boss,” Darren raised his eyes, “to being on this plane. We have forty.. Enough money to live, maybe years where we're going.”
“You couldn't keep living that life, Darren. Nidge was off his fucking rocker, and everyone around him is gonna pay for it.”
“Rosie would've never done this, you know that right?” He looked plaintively over at Jeanie as she climbed up onto her knees.
“Her loss is my gain though. I know you love me, but I'm not sure about my own feelings. I do care about you alot. I'm probably a danger junkie, so we could end up bored of each other without the fear of being caught or you not having any jobs. Or you could wear colors and learn to meditate, and I'll get a pet monkey and cut all my hair off.”
“Don't ye dare!” Darren laughed. “I'll become a Buddhist, just don't cut that hair.” He twisted his fingers up in it before reaching up to kiss her sweetly. Just a hint of his tongue.
“Fine,” Jeanie rolled her eyes. “But I still want a monkey. We should get some sleep.”
They kissed one last time before she laid back down and closed her eyes. Jeanie knew Darren would be on his side when he would begin to dream. His hand tucked under his cheek and head, mouth slightly agape. She pictured it in her head as she drifted off herself.
“How DID we get here?” she thought before dreaming herself of a game that started in sex but ended in murder.
Tag list: @sean-falco @robertsheehanownsmyass @nightmonsters @super-unpredictable98 @elliethesuperfruitlover @slutforrobbiebro @frogs--are--bitches @forenschik @bisexualnathanyoung @sugdenyoung
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jihyo shifts in his seat nervously, waiting for Mina to come back from the bathroom.
When he arrived there, Mina was nowhere in sight, which worried him. But only a minute after the time they’d set to meet, Mina had texted him telling him where she was. She wanted to change after her shift quickly, which came as a relief to him. A relief that she hadn’t left, that was. About the changing, he couldn’t care less. Mina looked amazing even in her work clothes. She could’ve hopped right over the counter in her coffee stained apron and Jihyo would still think she’s the pretty person in that cafe.
He taps at his watch, his knee bouncing a little as well, but then he sees something out of the corner of his vision, so he looks over.
And he can’t tear his eyes away.
It’s just so hard to considering how gorgeous Mina looks as she walks over to him with the same unexpected grace that she has when she’s pouring him his 10th cup of coffee for the week.
He’s still speechless as Mina sits down, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
“Great minds think alike huh?” She speaks gesturing to her shirt, snapping Jihyo from his thoughts.
“Sorry, say that again?”
“I said great minds think alike. We’re wearing the same color,” she finishes with a smile.
Jihyo looks down, then back at her, finally noticing the color of the sweater under her jacket. He can’t ignore the little skip his heart does seeing it.
“I guess so. Is lavendar a favorite of yours?”
“Hmm,” she thinks (the adorable way her tongue peaks out between her lips when she does so doesn’t go unnoticed), “I think I like the scent more than the color, but they’re both nice.”
“Ah, I see,” he said with a nod of his head “Anyway... how was work today?”
‘One boring question after another, huh Jihyo?’ he thinks to himself. He holds off the urge to tap at his watch.
But Mina responds just as enthusiastic as usual.
“It was fine. It’s usually pretty relaxed around this time of day, so after the morning rush, the end of my shift was alright.”
A look of realization passes over her face. “Oh! And we didn’t sell out of caramel scones today. Those always go pretty fast.”
Jihyo perks up at that. “Oh I love those! But I uh-“ His phone dings. He looks down and misses the way Mina gives herself a little fist pump and congratulatory nod of approval. He looks back up again none the wiser.
“Like I was saying. You know me. I’m always in a rush to get here so I end up a little short on change- “His phone dings 3 more times and he blushes. Part in embarrassment, part in annoyance.
“Sorry, could you give me one second?”
He checks his phone and, unsurprisingly, his saving grace from earlier has become a thorn in his side.
Nayeon🐀
How’s it going?
Is she there yet?
Bro please tell me she didn’t stand you up...
If she did I can get the other two and we all can stare her down on her next shift
Jihyo rolls his eyes then responds
-
Everything’s fine dude. Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you later ok?
Nayeon🐀
Ok cool. Have fun, and stay safe!
He puts his phone down and looks back up at Mina.
“Sorry about that. It was my friend Nayeon.”
“Oh...,” Mina sticks her tongue out in thought again, “right. The one who’s usually here with you before you guys have class.”
“Yeah that’s them. You remembered?”
“Ah well, sometimes it’s hard not to overhear you guys on quiet mornings.... even on not quiet ones honestly,” she laughs.
Jihyo laughs too. “Yeah I guess we are pretty loud huh? Sorry about that.”
“No don’t be! It makes my shifts interesting at least.”
“Excuse me.” A voice snaps them out of their little bubble.
They both turn to the source. And while Jihyo looks at the person in front of them confusedly, Mina smiles in earnest. Especially at the tray in the person’s hands.
“Thanks Elkie.”
“No problem,” she says, throwing Mina a little wink as she walks off.
Before Jihyo can even say anything, Mina speaks.
“I asked her to bring this stuff over before you got here. I just had to make sure I remembered that you liked these first.”
Jihyo looks down at the tray on the table between them and sure enough, there’s one of the caramel scones they had talked about earlier and a small black coffee.
“So you remembered this too huh? You know the way to my heart Mina,” he jokes, taking a sip of his coffee. He loves the way it makes Mina blush. Definitely something he could get used to. He also takes the time to note what Mina eats: a small quiche and a bottle of strawberry sparkling water. It’s simple but it seems to suit her somehow.
“You’ve probably overheard a lot about me at this point,” he laughs, “so I’m wondering if you remember my major too?”
“Mhm. Fitness major, right? ....sorry if this is creepy.”
“Yep, and no you’re fine. I just wanna know about you in return.”
Mina swallows another bite of her food. “Well I’m a business major. Nothing too interesting there. I stay in the dorms about a block over. It’s a short distance from the buildings I takes classes in too, so it works well.”
“Nice, nice. Any roommates?”
“One. He comes by here once in a while so maybe you’ll see him one day. He’s majoring in engineering.”
“Oh that’s so cool. Do you know the specifics?”
Mina lets out a tired laugh. “Not really. It’s too hard to wrap my head around.”
Jihyo gives an agreeing nod.
“Oh but I know he was talking something about plane engines the other day. I don’t really know more than that.”
Jihyo grimaces. “Planes, huh. That seems interesting, but it makes me think about being on one and that’s just... ugh.”
Mina’s eyes widen. “Don’t like flying?”
“Hell no,” he laughs, “I love driving. Though I have to borrow my roommate’s car until I save up enough for my own.”
“I’m kind of the opposite,” Mina replies, “car rides bore me. But I love plane rides. Which is good I suppose, since I have to fly to go back home to Japan on holidays.”
“Really? What’s it like there?” Jihyo scoots closer in his seat, listening intently.
Mina looks just as happy to be able to talk about it too. “Well you see...”
The two continued to talk without a care in the world. They went on and on, long after they’d finished eating.
It’s only after they finally took a pause to just bask in the silence, leaving Jihyo to tap at his watch, that he checks the time.
“Damn we sure have been here a while.”
Mina’s eyes widen in surprise as she goes to check the time on her phone. “Oh no... I’m sorry Jihyo, I hate to cut us off, but I have a night class. I need to get a few things done before then, though so...”
“It’s alright I understand,” he smiles, “I’ll let you go.”
Mina gathers up her trash, taking Jihyo’s as well, and cleans up for them. When she comes back to her seat, she gathers up her things and Jihyo starts to do the same. They do so silently, and Jihyo’s not quite sure when he wants to speak up. When he wants to ask Mina if they want to hang out again.
They just step out of the cafe when he’s finally prepared himself.
“So I
“Jihyo-
They both stare. Then they burst into a fit of giggles, their faces warming up in the cool evening air.
Mina pulls her jacket in a little closer. “You aren’t cold at all?”
“Nah not really,” he shrugs, “but anyway, what was it you wanted to say?”
“No you can go first,” she assures him, stepping closer. With her being so close, he only then realizes the difference in their height. But that doesn’t deter him.
“I was wondering if you wanted to do this again? We don’t have to talk out the details right now, but I had fun talking to you. So I want to do it again.”
Mina’s blush spreads to her ears. “I had fun too. And I wanted to ask the same, she giggles. “I’d love to do this again.”
She takes one of his hands in hers. “Text me later tonight maybe?”
“Sounds good,” he smiles. They stand there for a minute, just looking at rach other with out a word. But eventually, Mina lets out a little huff. “I should go,” she pouts, rubbing her thumb across the back of his hand.
“Right, right. Like I said, I won’t hold you.” They finally let go of each other, backing up in their respective directions. “I’ll make sure to text you later!” he says with a wave.
“Oh one more thing!” Mina says, getting his attention. He turns back to her.
“Sorry if this is weird again but I like the cologne! It smells nice!” She gives him one last wave before walking off again, headed down the street.
Jihyo stands there for a minute, watching the way her hair flows behind her, mesmerized. But he should get going. So, after giving her one last glance, her starts walking home with a skip in his step. Yeah, there was nothing that could ruin his mood for the rest of the day.
66 notes
·
View notes
Text
A TOTALLY UNOFFICIAL AND VERY MUCH NOT SANCTIONED BY NBC OPENING SCENE FOR AN AS OF YET NONEXISTENT PILOT OF THE ADVENTURE ZONE: BALANCE ANIMATED SHOW THAT I AM 100% NOT GETTING PAID FOR
Credit to: the McElboys
No credit to: me, Charm H. Adventurezone, sleep deprived [job title redacted] and overly ambitious fic writer
[Our opening shot is of the world of Abeir-Toril (or whatever the fuck we’re going to call it to avoid copyright issues idk that redacted job title up there sure isn’t lawyer) as it drifts through the Prime Material Plane. From here, we can see little but clouds, water, and land masses. One regular-sized moon orbiting the world drifts into view. If you look closely, but you’re only looking closely because you’re a nerd who knows what to look for, you can see a much, much smaller moon -THAT’S NO MOON got there first Clint what now- drifts over a massive, still lake and a brightly colored spot that we might know to be Neverwinter, wait- Eversummer, hm, that was graphic novel, but can we use that there?- KINDASPRING there we go. The initial shot is quiet, for a moment, before seven notes -yes those ones folks- ring out.]
GRIFFIN [audio only]: I can guess what you’re probably all expecting. Some big, dramatic speech to match the big, dramatic intro we’ve got going on here. [As Griffin talks, we start to zoom in on a continent conveniently labeled NOT-FAERUN. We fly by our much smaller moon, but not close enough to see anything of interest – yet. We see Kindaspring, all busy and fantasy and so on. We catch a glimpse of a city buried in the shadow of a mountain range, with a bunch of dudes who all look the same. A city on a cliff, a shining gold monument in the center and trails of dust on a track around the city. Canyons, and a dash of pearlescent color just for a moment. Blink and you miss it, and a flash of a black and white tent in the woods near Kindaspring. You get the picture.] But, fact of the matter is, folks, we kinda blew all the budget on this one shot! Completely boned it in the first two seconds! So, let’s get right into it and roll some fuckin’ initiative- oh, can I say fuck? Are we allowed to do that, here on NBC Peacock? Shit, I’m going to completely bone our cussing budget too- anyway! Let’s roll some initiative and meet our heroes.
[Zoom in on wagon on road outside Kindaspring. It’s not a very impressive wagon. There are patches on the canvas. The wheels are all creaky and bouncy over the dirt road. The horses look like they could use a nap. There are stink lines, y’all. The road, meanwhile, is pretty well-used. There are ruts, and the sides of the road run clean and even. It’s surrounded by woods, and we’re far enough out of Kindaspring to not get any noise from the city, nor close enough to our destination to even get a hint of whatever the fuck I’m going to have to call Phandalin that isn’t Phandalin.
But back to our characters. Right now, only one is visible, a buff human man, like super buff, no you don’t understand animators, he must be a brick shithouse of a man, he’s very sensitive about this. He has massive muscles and massive sideburns, and he looks way too happy to be driving this wagon. You just know the vehicle proficiency jokes are coming. Cartoon GRIFFIN pops up in the corner of the screen, looking unimpressed.]
GRIFFIN: …Well, maybe not heroes. Three… boys. Three very messy, very murder hobo, very horny boys. [A beat.] Tres horny boys, if you will. So, uh, first up is-
MAGNUS [aware of Griffin and waving at everyone- listen, fourth wall breaks are kinda a thing for me, folks]: I’m Magnus Burnsides, human fighter! [Stat card for Magnus pops up on the side. There’s a not very flattering picture with it.] Also… [with the wagon reigns in hand, he starts counting off on his fingers, concentrating] Uh, master carpenter, man of action, rush into battle- oh, and I’m from Raven’s Roost, and-
[The canvas flaps blow open behind MAGNUS, and MAGNUS’S stat card disappears with a pop and a tiny bit of white smoke. TAAKO steps out, already exasperated and swinging a hand, colliding with MAGNUS’S head and pushing it to the side.]
TAAKO: Yeah, save the backstory for like… 40 more episodes, my dude. We don’t have time for that shit right now.
GRIFFIN: O-kay, guess we’re just gonna assume we can swear whenever we want.
[As GRIFFIN is talking, TAAKO stops pushing on MAGNUS’S head.]
TAAKO [triumphant, shouting]: FUCK!
[Flock of birds flies out of the trees.]
GRIFFIN: So this is Taako, the elf wizard [TAAKO’S stat card pops up. Much more flattering picture.] and-
TAAKO: That’s Taako, you know, from… podcast, elf wizard and baller chef, yes, thank you, very much. AND very, very beautiful. [TAAKO does a hair flip. There are sparkles and magical sounds.] And very, very bored. [TAAKO’S stat card disappears.] How far away is this fuckin’ town? What’s it called again?
MAGNUS [shrugging]: Beats me. [To GRIFFIN] Did we come up with a name that doesn’t violate copyright?
GRIFFIN [evading the question, because I still am]: Aaaaaaaaaaaaand last but not least, Merle Highchurch. [A beat. GRIFFIN sighs.] Merle, that’s your cue.
MERLE [inside the tent]: Wha? Somebody say my name? [Canvas flaps rustle rustle rustle. MERLE’S face pops out, looking around owlishly. He also steps out to the front of the wagon.]
MAGNUS [now very crowded and still trying to drive]: You missed your cue, old man.
MERLE [indignant]: I was busy studying my cantrips!
TAAKO and MAGNUS [in unison]: Gross!
MERLE: No, not like-
GRIFFIN [interrupting]: And Merle is a cleric! [MERLE’S stat card pops up. The picture was taken too high, so we can only see MERLE’S hair and forehead.]
MERLE: I’m a what now?
GRIFFIN [overly enthusiastic, it’s a bit now, folks]: Now, for those of you who aren’t familiar, clerics are kind of a support class magic user. They can cast things like buffs-
MERLE: Huh?
GRIFFIN [still overly enthusiastic]: and heal their party members-
MERLE: I can do that?
GRIFFIN: Clerics also serve gods, and Merle’s god is Mort-
MERLE [indignant again]: Hang on! That doesn’t sound right!
GRIFFIN [pushing out of his little bubble and leaning into the scene]: Then who is your god?
MERLE: Uh… Pan! [MERLE pulls out the Extreme Teen Bible.] See? Pan!
MAGNUS [whispering to TAAKO]: Okay, I guess this is how we’re resolving that whole thing. [TAAKO shrugs. MERLE is smiling. It’s adorable, like those little smiles Carey Pietsch does I love them so much, y’all.]
GRIFFIN: So, Magnus, Taako, Merle. Off on an adventure of epic proportions. [GRIFFIN is getting excited.] Full of action and danger and goofs and found family and-
MAGNUS: Now hold on! Epic proportions? Epic? [MAGNUS waves a hand around at the generally pretty chill woods, the boring road, and the stink lines wagon.]
TAAKO: Yeah, so far this is snoozeville, population, uh, me and these two chucklefucks.
MERLE [peering at GRIFFIN]: you sure you got the right dnd party, bud?
GRIFFIN [looking at audience]: We’re still negotiating contracts, so I’m filling in for, uh… someone. So for now, hey, I’m Griffin McElroy, your Dungeon Master, your best friend, and your announcer for this pilot episode. Ahem. [GRIFFIN clears his throat.] Grab your shields and ready your spell slots. Strap in your asses and… really, just strap in your asses. And, for the very first time, welcome to the animated version of… THE ADVENTURE ZONE!
[Title card and Mort Garson’s “Déjà Vu” plays. All my ideas went into dialogue, folks. Fan artists, this one’s all yours.]
[We pop back into the same scene as before.]
MAGNUS: Yeah, so, uh, like we were saying, before, uh, whatever that was, what we’re doing now is-
TAAKO [interrupting]: Hold on! We are not, I repeat, not doing some dumb recap where we explain this boring job... unless…
MAGNUS, MERLE, and GRIFFIN [all have gone laser eye meme]: UNLESS?
TAAKO [singing]: Flashback sequence!
[There’s a loud POP! as the scene shifts, and we’re now in your standard fantasy tavern. There’s a table with four chairs right in front of us, all of which are empty. The tavern acts as a backdrop behind that, illustrating just how fantasy this world is. We see humans and elves and dwarves yes, because we’ve already seen them, but also Gnomes and tieflings and haflings and orcs and Genasi and aarakocra (try spelling that one, folks ;) I’m sure that won’t come up later) and so on and so forth.
There’s another POP! as GRIFFIN’S window reappears in the upper right corner. He looks slightly ruffled.]
GRIFFIN [straightening his hair and glasses]: Wow, that is going to take some getting used to. Anyway, the boys should be here in a second, and-
[Three more pops as MAGNUS, TAAKO, and MERLE appear in three of the four seats at the table. MERLE lands upside down. He immediately starts struggling to right himself]
MAGNUS [looking at the empty chair and frowning]: Wait, what was the name of the guy we were meeting again? Gumdrop?
TAAKO: Hm… Gurgle? Guava? Gumbo?
MERLE [having finally righted himself]: No! My cousin, uh… um… oh, that’s right, Gundren!
[As MERLE says GUNDREN, another pop as GUNDREN pops into existence in the chair. He looks like if you put MERLE through a grinder, not like we’re gonna run into one of those in an episode or two, right, fellas?
Nasty boy that he is, GUNDREN lets out a grunt and then spits on the floor. People have to clean that, GUNDREN! This is why you- (SPOILERS REDACTED)- anyway.]
GUNDREN: So, like I was saying, boys. You take my wagon from here in Kindaspring down the road to Mandolin-
TAAKO: Oh, that’s what we’re calling it?
MERLE: I thought that was another TV show?
[Up in the corner, GRIFFIN shrugs.]
GUNDREN: Uh… yes? That’s… what it’s called? [GUNDREN looks suspiciously at them. It seems like he’d give the job to someone else in an instant, if literally anyone else would take the job. But magically, he’s stuck with these boys.] But, uh, you get my wagon and my goods to Mandolin, and I’ll let you in on the next job. And that job, boys… [GUNDREN laughs. It sounds like if you threw rocks in a blender.] That’s the kinda job that will be the last job you ever need to take.
MAGNUS [cheerfully]: Well, that sounds murdery!
[There’s a loud POP! and we’re back on the wagon again, all of our boys already in place.]
GRIFFIN [shrugging, smiling]: Guess you’re going to find out! Oh, and boys… let’s roll initiative.
#taz#taz balance#the adventure zone#mcelroy family#mcelboys#charm works#this is basically a glorified overly long shitpost and the level of editing that went into this reflects that#PLEASE HIRE ME MCELROYS
60 notes
·
View notes
Text
Vacuo Trip!
“Arriving in Bishop Vacuo. Remember to grab all your things as Atlesian Airlines is not responsible for any lost items on the plane, thank you for flying with us!” The speaker rang out, waking Mellow up from their not-so-comfortable nap. “Ugggghhhhh” Who knew that flying from Atlas all the way to Vacuo was going to be so miserable. “What an easy, 13 hour flight over” Mellow groaned, irritated. “I thought you’d be happy to be here, it’s your home country and you two have talked so highly of it.” They turned around to see Jade looking at them, confused. Behind her was Ochre and Birdie unpacking team BOMZ’s stuff, Ochre looked over, “Mellow’s just tired and hungry, once they get some food they should be back to normal.”.
As the team walked out of the very nicely air-conditioned plane, the heat hit. “When you said it was hot I didn’t realize you meant like this.” Birdie complained. “Ah come on it’s not that bad! Keep in mind you’re still wearing your Atlas clothes so once you change it’ll be all better!” Ochre laughed.
Once they got off the plane, BOMZ set off into the city to go to the place they’d be staying. Birdie suddenly looked around where they were before saying “Hey wait where are we staying?” Jade looked at Birdie with a concerned expression, “I thought you booked a hotel?” “Nope. I thought you did.” There was silence for a moment. “Do we not have a place to stay?” The two started panic before Mellow spoke up, “Relax, We’re gonna be staying with some of our family. There’s plenty of rooms for everyone.” Jade gave a suspicious look, “And this person is?” “Our dad!” Ochre popped up excitedly.
Birdie and Jade exchanged confused looks, sure the twins had spoken about their dad before but not enough for them to get a good idea of who this guy was. Soon the 4 arrived at a small shop with a house on top. Mellow excitedly ran up to the door and knocked. When the door opened a man stood in its doorway. He smiled at the twins before looking at Birdie and Jade almost accusingly. The twins quickly spoke in Vacuan to the man and he seemed relieved when they were done talking and invited BOMZ in. “Sorry to scare you,” the man says as he walks behind the counter of the register area. “I didn’t know who you two were when I had seen you, those two,” he points to Mellow and Ochre “Explained that you both on their team. Anyways, it’s nice to meet you two, my name is Steel.” He smiled.
“It’s nice to meet you too.” Jade smiled and shook hands with him as Birdie did the same. “I’m Jade and this is Birdie.”. “Wait where did—.“ Birdie looked around the shop not seeing Ochre or Mellow anyone, Steel laughed “Ah they have a tendency to do that when they’re here! They’re probably up in their rooms. Which are up those stairs, we have a few extra rooms so feel free to make yourselves comfortable.” He pointed to the stairs on the opposite side of the shop. “Thank you for letting us stay here.” Jade said relieved, “Hey both of them said that you two have been real nice to them so I’m perfectly fine with you two staying here if that’s true.” Steel said.
They walked upstairs and found Mellow practically crying out of happiness while eating a granola bar, Ochre soon walked over to the two. “What did I tell you? They just needed some food.” They all snickered at the comment. “Well I’m SORRY that my body just decides to make me absolutely miserable when I’m hungry.” Mellow spoke into the bed as BOZ laughed. “Here I can show you guys the separate rooms.” Ochre led them down the hallway to two nice looking rooms, “These are the guest rooms, you don’t need to worry about doing any cleaning, Dad gets a little paranoid if these rooms aren’t kept clean so he cleans them consistently.” Ochre laughed rubbing the back of their head. “I like it! It’s really nice. Everything here is really nice. Especially your dad.” Jade smiled while unpacking. Ochre looked down for a moment “Yeah he is, I’m really glad he was the one who took us in and not someone else. We got really lucky.”.
——————————————————————————
“Get up fellas we’re going to dinner!” Mellow yelled, scaring everyone awake from their naps. “Jeez, c’mon can’t I sleep a bit longer?” Ochre whined “Nope because if I let you sleep you won’t eat dinner.” Mellow said rolling their eyes as Ochre glared, half of their face still in the pillow.
After everyone had gotten changed BOMZ left to go get something to eat. The 4 walked around for a bit, Mellow and Ochre pointing out places they had been and telling stories about those places.
“So Ochre where should we go for dinner? There are a ton of good places around the shopping district but I’m not sure which one we should go to.” Mellow asked excitedly. Ochre thought for a moment and then whispered to Mellow, Mellow nodded “C’mon! You two have gotta be quicker than that!”, Mellow then started running down the sidewalk. “Mellow wait!” Jade yelled as BOZ ran after Mellow until they got to a brick building with neon letters. “The Dune Diner?” Birdie questioned, “THIS is where we’re having dinner and it’s really good so don’t worry!” Ochre gave them a thumbs up.
The minute the twins got inside their faces lit up, “This place has always been one of those places in Vacuo that never changes” Ochre smiled. The team sits down in a booth and they start talking, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you two so excited to be in a restaurant” Birdie laughed, “Well what can we say? This place has a lot of awesome memories.” Ochre snickered. Jade raised an eyebrow, “Oh? Is that a story I hear coming up? What makes this place so special?” Jade looked around as she spoke. “Well then let me tell you a story about our first day with Steel.” Ochre began.
“In order to tell that story, let me tell you how we met him in the first place. Originally Steel didn’t, well, ‘legally’, adopt us. Mellow and I stayed in a shady orphanage in a shady part of town so Steel, who was still a hunter at that point, was there on a mission to bust some dust smugglers. He ended up going into the orphanage to interrogate the people who owned it in case they were involved and saw Mellow and I all beat up. He asked if he could take us but when the orphanage owners looked at his information, they said no.”
“What why?! He seemed like awesome guy!” Jade said confused.
Mellow sighed, “For a really dumb reason. Because it was a shady town, nobody trusted hunters of any kind. When they saw he was a hunter, they said no.”
Birdie scoffed, “That’s BS, if they knew he was a good person and could take care of you two they should’ve let him take you guys.”, “So what did he do instead?” Jade inquired.
“Well he kinda took us at night, during that day he managed to gain our trust and we really liked him. Mellow and I would’ve done ANYTHING to get out of that orphanage and so we went with him. He got in trouble with his boss but when he explained why he did that he was miraculously let off without punishment! He was then given the papers to adopt us and the rest is history!” Ochre smiled excitedly.
The others smiled as well. “But I haven’t told you guys the story of Mellow and I’s first day with him.”
“Do tell, I’m interested to hear what mischief you two got up to that day” Jade said sarcastically, “HEY!” Mellow looked at Jade, acting fake hurt as they scoffed.
“ANYWAYS. The first day was actually on the day of the Desert Festival. So there was a lot going on and a lot to do! He first took us shopping to get some better clothes, we found a ton of fun clothes to wear that day. Afterwards we went to a restaurant which was this one! We had gotten a lot of food and had eaten a good portion of it since we hadn’t eaten well in a while, we did take a lot of it home afterwards though. Later we went out to the festival grounds and played a ton of games with Steel, looking back now Steel probably let us win a lot of those but hey! It was still fun. Once we got home Mellow and I were in awe at the place we would be staying at and immediately started running around and playing with each other. We did that for a while before Steel called us over and led us to the rooftop of the building.” Ochre expressed, reminiscing.
Ochre sighed, “Mellow and I to this day say it was the coolest thing ever.”
“It was! We had never seen them before!” Mellow exclaimed.
“So what was it? That you saw?” Birdie questioned curiously, “Fireworks. At first we were spooked because of how loud they were! We clutched onto Steel immediately because we didn’t know what the noise was until he told us to turn around. When we did we saw these gorgeous colors that were appearing in the sky at random and we ran to the ledge of the railing to look. I’ll never forget how cool that was.”
Jade looked amazed, “Wow I can’t imagine how that must’ve felt, seeing something like that for the first time.”. Ochre laughed before leaning back in the booth, “Yeah Vacuo is pretty great” Mellow looked over.
“Yeah but Vale is too. We’ve got a ton of great memories in Vale as well.” Mellow smiled widely, “I think we’ve all got some good memories in Vale.” Birdie added.
“Yeah maybe for YOU ALL, I had to stop Mellow from jumping off the Beacon tower once!”, “YOU SAID YOU WEREN’T GONNA HOLD THAT AGAINST ME!” Mellow yelled being over dramatic. BOZ laughed.
The night ended in a lot of jokes, stories, laughs, and a whole lot of team fun.
——————————————————————————
This was a ton of fun! I hope I got everyone’s characters on point. If I didn’t I’m sorry 😞
Anyways characters belong to:
Bird: @immortal-green-snom
Ochre: @otterdoesart
Mellow: Me!
Jade: @zacs-of-rwby
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
Demon Summoning
This is the third place prize of my blog giveaway for @moonlightreetops, where a girl summons a demon. Hope you all enjoy!
F reader X M demon, 2,564 words.
The candles flickered around the summoning circle. You knelt in front of it and gave a nervous glance at your friends. Their faces were all partially obscured by shadows, but you could make out that they were anxious, but full of resolve. You flipped through a few pages of the book in front of you and squinted at the lines of text.
“We summon you from beyond the barrier, from beyond our plane. We bind you to us with our gifts-” Here, you paused and pricked your finger with a needle, squeezing out a drop of blood into the circle. Your friends followed suit, one at a time. The candles seemed to glow brighter, flickering more frequently. “Take the offering and emerge into our realm. Serve us and we will serve you.” Your voice grew louder as you concluded the chant. “I summon you to our realm, bind you with my blood, and call upon your service! Come now to our realm!”
A gust of wind whipped your hair back and the candles flickered violently, though none of them went out. You peered into the circle, but it wasn’t glowing or shimmering, and there was nothing in the middle.
“Wow,” you said. “That was anticlimactic.”
“You didn’t say the ending right!” Emma said. She abandoned her part of the circle and snatched the book away from you. “You said ‘I’ instead of ‘we’. That probably ruined it!”
“You try reading this tiny cursive in dim candlelight,” you protested. “I did my best!”
“We shouldn’t have given the nonbeliever the job of reading,” Tom said, disappointment etched over his face. “It needs to be done with intent.”
“It’s my house!” you said. “If you wanted to do the reading, you should have done the ceremony in your dorm.”
“We’re not allowed candles in the dorm,” Lewis said. He lounged back, rubbing his neck. “Speaking of the dorm, I need to get back soon. Got class in the morning. C’mon, Mel.” He took his girlfriend’s hand and stood up. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
“We should probably be getting back too,” Emma said. “Can I keep the book, though? I want to look at the summoning stuff. Maybe we can try again later?”
“Sure.” You handed her the book and stood up. “I’ll see you guys later, then.”
Your friends filed out of your house and you started gathering up the candles. You never should have agreed to do the summoning circle thing at your house, you thought. A bunch of wax had dripped onto the floor and it was a pain in the ass to get up. Not to mention that the chalk took a bit of scrubbing to get off the hardwood.
Finally, you finished cleaning away all trace of the circle. You gathered the candles together and went to put them into the cabinet.
As soon as you opened the drawer, the prickling sensation of someone looking at you hit you full force. You whirled around and almost screamed.
Someone was leaning over you. Someone very obviously not human.
He was tall, nearly a foot taller than you were and his skin was a rust red. Horns spiraled from his head, uneven in size and shape. Fangs poked out from under his top lip. His arms were wing-like, with thick, brownish-gray feathers and hooked, claw-like fingers. His legs were even stranger than his arms, with large, taloned feet and feathery legs. His tail was long and scaly, tufted in another clump of feathers. He wore no clothes, giving you a good view of his muscular chest. His hair was shaggy and pitch black, pulled back into a short and scruffy ponytail.
You felt abruptly dizzy and your stomach rolled unsettlingly. “Oh my God,” you whispered.
His upper lip curled, giving you a better look at his enormous fangs. “I have nothing to do with Them,” he said. His voice was deep and rumbling. “Do not speak his name in my presence.”
You sagged against the cabinet, using it to keep you upright. “You’re a demon.”
He tilted his head a little. One of his ears, which was long and tufted with a few feathers, twitched, an unexpectedly cute action. “Yes. Did you not realize what you were summoning?”
“We summoned you?” Holy shit. You hadn’t expected it to work. “But you didn’t appear in the circle!”
“I am to appear only to my master. You spoke the incantation and offered your blood, so you are my master.” He bowed, which put his head on level with yours.
“We all offered you blood,” you said. “Shouldn’t you be bonded to all of us?”
“There can only be one master. You spoke the incantation and offered your blood first, so I was summoned and bound to you.” He looked at you with bright orange eyes. Despite the color, they were surprisingly human.
“How do I release you?” you asked. You did not want a demon hanging around your house. He tilted his head at you again, eyes shimmering with something like curiosity.
“There is no release until the contract has been fulfilled.” His tail twitched, scraping against the ground. “Until I have completed the terms set for me, I am bound to you, as you are bound to me.”
“Okay,” you said, feeling a little frustrated. “What are the terms?”
There was a very long pause. The demon blinked at you, seeming confused. “The terms are set by the summoner when calling upon the demon,” he said. “You should have set the terms when you spoke the incantation and offered your blood.”
“I didn’t,” you said, trying not to let panic sound in your voice. “Should I set the terms now?”
The demon’s tail twitched again, coiling behind him. “The terms have already been set. If there were no terms, you would not have been able to summon me. The terms need not be spoken out loud, or even be consciously understood. You used a desire from your subconscious in order to summon me.”
You dropped your face into your hands. “Great,” you mumbled. “So we have no idea what it is that will release you.”
“I am not pleased about this turn of events either,” the demon said. “I cannot release myself from the binding until you have fulfilled the terms of your contract.”
“Does that mean we’re bound together? Do you have to constantly be around me?” you asked, eyeing him nervously.
“Physical proximity is not necessary, but I will need to remain on this plane until the contract has been fulfilled. Additionally, as part of the contract, you are required to maintain my well-being while I am on this plane.”
“Which means?”
“You are required to give me a place to stay while I remain in this plane or you will be in breach of contract,” he said.
“If I’m in breach of contract, does the contract end?” you asked.
“In a manner of speaking,” he said. “Breach of contract declares the contract null and void, but it also requires a certain level of payment.” You gestured for him to continue. “If you break the contract, you’ll go to Hell. Immediately.”
“Okay. Not breaking the contract, then,” you said. “I- am I already going to Hell?”
“No. Upon death, I gain temporary ownership of your soul, typically for the same time you held ownership over me. Unless, of course, you break the contract, in which Hell gains ownership of your soul.”
You let out a breath. “That’s good, at least.” You walked over to your couch and sat down. The demon followed you, standing awkwardly off to one side. “Do you have any idea what I wanted when I formed the contract.”
“I will know when it is accomplished,” the demon said. “But I cannot tell what it is before then.” You sighed, dropping your head into your hands.
“I didn’t expect this to work,” you said. The demon sighed.
“To be honest, I am not sure how you managed to get it to work either,” he said. “Most summoning ceremonies are finicky. You’re fortunate it went as well as it did. There are many demons who would take advantage of your naivete to wander the Earth and do as they please.”
You looked at him. “But you won’t?”
“I have no desire to do much on this plane. I have no grudge against humans.” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “That may be a clue. Demons are often summoned for a purpose. There must be something to this task that I would be particularly good at.”
“What are you good at?”
“I am often summoned for mediations and other forms of conflict resolution.” You frowned at him. “I am skilled at fostering relationships between people, from platonic to romantic. My particular specialty is as a lust demon, but I can-”
“Nope! It’s not that one!” you said. He looked at you steadily, apparently unimpressed by your protestations. “It’s not- I don’t need your help with that.”
“Are you sure? It would have been subconscious, so there is a possibility you summoned me for it without realizing.”
“No, I think I would know. Trust me, it’s not that. I wasn’t thinking about that at all,” you said. “I was think about…” You trailed off. “Uh.”
“Maybe you’ll remember in time,” the demon said. “Or we will find out eventually, when the contract breaks. Or eventually you will die and the contract will break naturally.”
He sounded remarkably unconcerned about that. You frowned. “So we’re stuck with each other for a little while.”
“So it would seem.” Silence fell over the room.
“What’s your name?” you asked.
“Larest,” he said. “Yours?”
You told him your name. He held out a hand toward you and you shook it. “I look forward to staying with you,” he said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I am going to rest. Being summoned is exhausting.”
He lay back on the couch and closed his eyes. You left him and headed up to your room.
You woke to the sound of someone clattering around in the kitchen. Upon heading downstairs, you were surprised to find Larest standing over the stove, fussing with what appeared to be a large platter of French toast.
“Are you cooking?” you asked.
“Being unable to fulfill the contract means that I have a lot of time on my hands. I may as well fill it with something useful,” he said. “Demons don’t need to eat, but cooking is relaxing.” He offered you the plate. It smelled good and an experimental bite told you that it tasted good as well.
“Did you have any revelations about what your end of the contract might be?” he asked as you sat at the counter.
“No. I was thinking about how stupid the demon summoning was,” you admitted. “Maybe I wanted my friends to be proven wrong?”
He considered that. “No. That would be an unfulfillable contract. This has to be something I could reasonably do.”
“Oh.” You took another mouthful of French toast. “Then I don’t know.”
Larest sighed. “Then the search continues, I suppose.”
Despite the pressing concern of a demon in your house, work and school were still vital. After assuring that he would be okay in the house on his own, you left.
When you returned, the sight of your place stunned you. He had cleaned it. Top to bottom, everything had been dusted and reorganized. “As I said,” Larest spoke when he saw you, “I get bored when I’m not fulfilling contracts. I needed something to do.”
You could have hugged him. You almost did, except that he still looked rather fearsome. “Thank you. I’ve been trying to get up the energy to clean this place for ages, but I’ve never had the time.”
He seemed to swell with pride at the compliment. “I’m glad you appreciate it. Not many people bother to thank the demon they’ve formed a contract with.”
“That’s rude,” you said. “And you didn’t have to clean the house or make me breakfast. I appreciate it.”
Larest dipped his head to you. “And I appreciate your appreciation.”
Days passed. You settled into a routine with Larest- you would leave for work, after he made you breakfast, and you would come home to a neat house and, if he was feeling up to it, dinner. On weekends, Larest seemed content to hang around the house, but he would often disguise himself and run errands with you.
Days turned into weeks and the weeks started to spread into months, but no progress was made on breaking the contract. If you were being entirely honest, you had to admit that you weren’t putting a lot of effort into attempting to break it. It was nice having someone else around, and Larest was good company.
You sat together one night, casually draped over the couch. There was movie playing on the TV, but you were having a hard time focusing on it. One of his hands was resting on the couch next to yours and that was taking up most of your mind.
Slowly, you moved your hand over toward his. Your pinky fingers were less than an inch apart. Less than a centimeter. Barely a hair’s breadth from touching.
Your fingers touched. It felt like a sharp tingling sensation jumped through your arm and into your chest, making your heart race. Larest shifted, turning his head to look at you. Your eyes met.
His face broke into a small, but startlingly bright smile. His hand gently wrapped around your own.
And then he sat bolt upright and gasped. His hand slipped away from yours.
“What is it?” you asked. He turned to you, eyes wide.
“The contract,” he said slowly. “It broke.”
“It was fulfilled?” You stared at him, but he didn’t seem to be joking. “How? What did you do?”
There was a long pause. “I believe,” he said after a moment, “I may have just… thought about the fact that I love you.”
You felt your mouth open, but you couldn’t speak. “It would not be the first time a demon has been summoned by someone who wanted love,” he said. “I assume you feel similarly?”
“Yes,” you said, finally finding your tongue. “I love you too.” You glanced him over, half-expecting him to vanish. “But now that the contract’s been fulfilled, can you stay here?”
“I’ll be recalled to Hell within a few moments,” Larest said. “But there is another thing you can do.” He leaned forward and spoke hurriedly into your ear.
A few days later, you gathered your candles and the summoning book and set up the circle again. You knelt and spoke the incantation. Blood dripped from your finger onto the circle and you focused your thoughts.
There was a rush of wind and you closed your eyes. When you opened them again, Larest was standing there, wings spread.
“Mortal,” he said, “have you determined your terms of the contract?”
“Yes.” You stood. “In order to fulfill the contract, you must stay with me for the remainder of my life, living as my partner and lover. Upon my death, I pledge myself to you in the afterlife.”
Larest beamed and stepped out of the circle, enfolding you in his wings. “I should think this will be quite an easy contract to fulfil. I look forward to it.”
299 notes
·
View notes
Text
i love you
here we go!! here is my moreid secret santa fic!
click here to read it on AO3
warnings: none, light angst at one point but it is mostly tooth rotting fluff
word count: 4196
summary: Penelope begs and begs Hotch until he finally lets her have a BAU secret santa party. There is a small problem for Dr. Spencer Reid however when he is set the task of giving a gift to his best friend and crush, Derek Morgan.
“Hotch please?” Penelope drew out the last vowel of the word, as if it would make him say yes.
“I told you, Garcia, it’s out of my hands for now. It sounds like a great idea, really, but I don’t think that Strauss nor the director would approve of it.”
“It doesn’t have to be a work thing! Just, as friends, as a family.”
“And I already told you, Garcia, as long as we’re using company time it is a ‘work thing’.”
“God why does everyone have to be so boring. It’s a bonding thing!” Penelope checked the date on her phone. “It’s November 29th, if we’re not allowed to do this I’m going on strike.”
“Mhm,” Hotch was already moving on to something else, and Penelope left in a huff. She ran into Spencer on the way back to her office.
“Hey Penelope,”
“Hi, Spencer.” She said curtly, storming past him.
“Woah, what’s going on today?” Spencer said, stopping her by grabbing her arm. Penelope sighed, realizing she wasn’t being her cheery self and someone was bound to notice, may as well be him.
“Walk with me, boy genius.” Penelope explained her current predicament on the way to her office, huffing and using her hands to talk the entire way.
“And I don’t get why Strauss won’t allow it! It’s a great team bonding activity, and we would have so much fun!” She finished explaining.
“Garcia, we have fun without ‘team bonding activities’, I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this.”
“Because, I’m tired of being ignored. I just want one of my suggestions to go through and I’m starting to think Strauss doesn’t like me.”
“I’m pretty sure Strauss doesn’t like any of us,” Spencer said, sipping his coffee from a company mug.
“Yeah I know,” Penelope put her head into her hands and sighed. “Why are they so against us having fun?”
“They think it ‘interferes with the job’” Spencer said, quoting a seminar they were forced to go to.
“Yeah, bullshit.” Penelope half scoffed into her hands, half laughed. “How is it going with Derek?” She asked, smirking up at Spencer. Spencer couldn’t help but turn a little red whenever she asked about him. He had told Penelope about his crush on her best friend in September, and even though it had been going on for much longer Spencer was reminded every day why he didn’t tell her sooner. However Spencer never missed a chance to talk to her about it. Even though Penelope was a huge gossip, she would never tell Derek something this important without asking Spencer for permission first. And anyways, it was nice to get stuff off his chest.
“Nothing has really happened, just still lying awake at night thinking about him instead of doing something productive with my chronic insomnia.”
“How can you be productive with chronic insomnia anyways?”
“I don’t know… do things?” Spencer giggled and then paused, recalling something. “Wait, I do recall, I saw him at the grocery store.”
“No way, you two shop at the same place?”
“Unfortunately. I was too awkward to say anything anyways, and I looked like a mess too.”
“I’m sure he didn’t care. This is the man that saw me almost die and I need not remind you that he has seen you in the hospital. Multiple times.”
“I try not to remember.”
“Did he say anything?”
“No.”
“You are so boring,”
“It was late, Garcia. I don’t think I had the patience to deal with anyone, including him, and if you were to ask him I’m pretty sure he would say that feeling’s mutual by how he looked.” Spencer sighed. “He was so pretty though. Like sleepy pretty, not the way we see him at work.”
Penelope was just sitting there, sighing.
“What!” Spencer said, playing with a piece of dirt that was caught between his nails.
“Nothing. You are just so, so fucked.”
“I know!” Spencer dropped it and threw his hands to his face. “He’s just so… AH! I feel like a teenage girl.”
“Considering your looks, you might not be far off.”
“Hey!”
“Kidding, but really, you need to tell him. It’s gotta happen eventually.”
“No, I don’t want to ruin our friendship for my own feelings, it’s selfish.”
“Have you ever considered he might feel the same way?” Penelope asked, and Spencer just stared back at her. “You’re telling me you haven’t?”
“I just haven’t thought about it, of course it’s a probability but the chance that he likes me back is just so low. Did you know the chance of your crush liking you back is-” Spencer was cut off when Derek walked into the room, right into the middle of a conversation he had no idea was about him.
“Thank you for saving me from that,” Penelope said.
“Hotch needs you both at the round table,” was all Derek said, smirking at both of them.
“We’ll be there soon.” Spencer said, staring as Derek left the room. “Do you think he heard any of that?”
“You talk too fast and I wasn’t really keeping up very well, but no, I don’t think he knows it was about him at the very least.”
“Thank god.” Spencer sighed. “Come on, I don’t want to be yelled at by Hotch again.”
“Guess whatttttt!” Penelope said, with everyone mingling around their desks on a chilly December morning, having not been called in on a case yet for the day.
“Did someone die?” Emily asked, taking a headcount of everyone there, all BAU team members accounted for.
“What? No, oh my god Em. Unrelated to death, we get to have a secret santa!” She exclaimed, and everyone's faces lit up with smiles.
“Strauss thinks it would be good for us to bond over the holidays,” Hotch said, cracking a small smile.
“Yeah yeah, anyways write your names on these,” Penelope all handed them a torn piece of paper, “and put it in the magic hat.” She held out a small colorful beret she sometimes wore to work and mixed up all the names that were placed in it. “Now who wants to go first?” She asked, looking around the room eagerly.
“Can I go, Pen?” JJ asked, walking up to the hat.
“Why of course my dear,” Penelope said, dropping into a bow but making sure none of the names spilled out.
This went on for ten minutes until everyone had someone picked out. Penelope then took the last name out of the hat for herself before snugly fitting the hat back onto her head.
Spencer looked at the slip of paper he had gotten, and in all caps was the name Derek . He reminded himself that there was a 1 in 7 chance. A one in SEVEN chance. Maybe the universe just hated him, he mused to himself, trying to keep a poker face while slipping the paper into his pocket. He would tell Penelope about this later, because even though they were supposed to keep it a secret, she would want to know about this.
Derek did the same as everyone and glanced at his small slip of paper but did a double take when he saw the name scrawled on the parchment. Spencer Reid, was all it said in black ink. Great, of course he got his best friend, whom of which he was inconveniently in love with at the moment. He tried to keep his facial expression neutral, as there was a team full of profilers watching and if he even showed the slightest amount of emotion right now, it might give away who he had drawn.
“Now as per the rules of our lovely unit chief, no gifts above $20, and no telling who you got, as it would ruin the game. We will exchange gifts on the 24th and our lovely Rossi has agreed to let us use his home for the gift exchange.” Penelope described the rules, gesturing over to Rossi.
“Not home, mansion” He corrected, smiling.
A few days later, after agonizing over whether or not he should tell Penelope about his crush on Spencer, Derek texts Penelope. Everyone is asleep on the jet home except for Spencer and him. Spencer is reading a book at a million miles an hour, and Derek is on his phone. However every few seconds in between texts he would look up at the doctor, who always looked so peaceful and serene while reading.
New iMessage from: Garcia
You’re kidding me.
Derek smiled at his phone and typed,
No, I’m not. And I got him for secret santa too. I am so fucked, aren’t I?
He finished typing and set his phone on his lap, glancing at Spencer again while waiting for a response. Well, he thought, less of a glance, more of a stare. He zoned out looking at the younger man, memorizing the way his hands ran over the page. Suddenly the doctor looked up, and they looked in the eyes for a moment before they both quickly looked away. He felt a buzz on his chest and feeling grateful to have an excuse to look at something other than him, continued his conversation with Penelope.
Garcia: First of all you weren’t supposed to tell me the secret santa thing, second of all, I can feel you staring at him from here. You are so in love it makes me sick.
Penelope rummaged around her office in Quantico, cleaning up before the team arrived and they all got to go home. She felt her phone buzz in her pocket and took it out, Morgan again.
Derek: I know, but I had to tell somebody because I’m going crazy over it. I don’t know what to get him. He deserves something better than some random book.
Garcia: My sweet, I promise you he will love anything you get him.
Derek: You sure?
Garcia: I am sure.
Garcia: And if you don’t go to sleep right now Derek Morgan I will strangle you when you get back.
Derek: Fine fine, we’ll be back in an hour. You should get some rest too, go home.
Garcia: Like hell I’m leaving before you all get back here safely. I’ll wait.
They landed in Quantico about an hour later, and as promised, Derek was asleep for about 30 minutes when the jet landed and jolted everyone awake. They all walked back into the building together, tired as all hell even though most of them got sleep on the plane.
“Hey, kid,” Derek said, walking with Spencer to his desk. “Did you get any sleep?”
“Nope,” Spencer said, packing up his things, avoiding looking Derek in the eye.
“Are you alright?” Derek asked, and Spencer froze in his tracks. There were a million things he could’ve said at that moment, but he just continued packing his things after a muttered ‘yea,’. “You know you can talk to me, right?” Derek asked, but Spencer just started thinking about how no, actually he could not talk to him because talking to him about the particular thing he was feeling at the moment would ruin their friendship and Spencer didn’t know if he could take any heartbreak at the moment considering he was tired and about to break down into tears.
“Please, just go to your office, Morgan. I don’t want to talk.” Was all he said, and as Derek walked away a single tear slipped down Spencer’s cheek, which he aggressively rubbed away. The rest of the team was either too busy wrapping up or too tired to notice the distress Spencer was in at the moment.
Derek walked to his office, trying not to burst into tears. When he closed his door he immediately started crying, though. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. He hated seeing Spencer in danger, which is exactly where every case put him. And he was always so cold to him, like working with him now was a pain, a formality that must be gone through with. The glance on the plane was a spark of hope before, that maybe Spencer felt the same way, but it was put out by the way he acted earlier. He didn’t know anymore.
He knocked on Penelope’s door, hoping that the technical analyst hadn’t gone home yet. And she hadn't; she was sitting in her chair, knitting when Derek came in. She jumped up, giving him a kiss on the cheek when he arrived.
“God I am so happy to see that you are safe and well and a million other good things.”
“Actually, safe and well might be the only two good things I feel at the moment, Pen.”
“Alright, talk to me. What happened.” She said, moving her way over to sit down with Derek, rubbing his back.
“I don’t know. There was a moment, on the plane, while I was texting you that I thought maybe, maybe he felt the same way but when we got back he was so cold. It was like he was trying to distance himself from me in every way.”
“Ok, well you’re the profiler. Tell me exactly what he said.”
“Babygirl I don’t remember-”
“I think you do.” Penelope said, crossing her arms at him.
“I do. He said, ‘Please, just go to your office, Morgan. I don’t want to talk.’ He sounded sad, and he said please, which means he was probably expecting me to stay.” Derek had a moment of realization before putting his head in his hands. “I should’ve stayed, oh my god I should have-”
“Hey, hey there is nothing you can do now. Deep breaths. And you’re right. Those sound like the words of someone who is trying to push you away for their own good. And I’ve heard them before,” She said, punching Derek softly in the shoulder. “I don’t think he wants you to leave, Der. I think he just needs some time to figure out himself, first.”
“Do you think he likes me?”
“I can’t say for sure,” (She definitely could) “But I’d say he does.”
“About the secret santa,”
“Hun, I don’t care that you told me.”
“No, not that. What should I get him?”
“I already told you. He would love a ‘random book’” She did air quotes around what Derek had said over text earlier. “But you should make it special, write a note inside or something.”
“You know what…” Derek started, getting an idea. “I think I will.”
“Great, glad I could be of help. Now if you will excuse me, I have to be back here in 6 hours now, and I would like to go home for at least 4 of those.
“Well don’t let me get in the way.” Derek said, smiling at her and backing out of the office.
Spencer spent the rest of that night overthinking, trying to sleep but only falling unconscious for 3 hours before his blaring alarm woke him up. Did I push him away? He thought to himself, lying awake.
Spencer texted Penelope on his way into work, and even though he wasn’t much of a texting person, he didn’t have the time to make a call right now. All his text said was: I really messed up this time, Garcia. She replied as he was walking into the office, What did you do? Although Penelope, of course, had some inkling of what the young doctor was talking about. They had a few minutes before work officially started for the day, and Hotch hadn’t given them a case yet so he strode directly to Penelope’s office, not bothering to set down anything.
Spencer knocked on the door before coming in, and closed the door before sitting down.
“Alright, so spill.” She said, crossing her legs. Her office was becoming less and less of a technical analysis space and more of a therapist’s couch.
“I pushed him away. I was tired and angry and I pushed him away.”
“Slow down, slow down. I’m sure he didn’t take it that way, all of you were feeling that way last night.”
“No but he seemed angry with me too and I-”
“I can promise you. He probably was angry at first and regretted it, and now he’s thinking the same thing you are. Make an effort today to reach out to him, you’ll be surprised.”
“You sound like JJ reading my horoscope.”
“Maybe I can just see into the future.”
“Yeah right, and anyways that isn’t the end of it. I know I’m not supposed to tell you but I got Derek for the secret santa thing.” Spencer sighed into this coffee that was pressed against his lips, and after taking a sip, said, “I’m starting to really hate you for putting this together, because I have no idea what to give him.”
“Maybe get him something he likes,”
“Yeah, but what does he even like? Music?” Spencer asked, setting his coffee cup on the table beside him. “But I don’t even know what or who he listens to. All I know is he likes music and I feel like I don’t know anything about him right now.”
“Football. He likes football.” Garcia said, also trying to think of things her best friend would enjoy as a present.
“Ok that’s a start, what about football is there…”
“No, no scratch that. Do you know how to make a mix of music on a CD?”
“Garcia, you know I can barely work a printer.”
“I’ll help you. I made his playlist that he listens to on the jet so I know what he likes. All you have to do is give it to him.”
“Wow, thanks Penelope. I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t. Say anything that is, just go catch a serial killer and I’ll have it ready by the end of the day.”
As promised, at the end of the day Spencer walked into Penelope’s office and she had a CD ready for him. It was a relatively short case, a local one that had the team home before 8pm. Everyone was in a good mood, but decided to go home early while they had the rare chance.
“Ok here it is, loverboy. Just so you know you can write on it with Sharpie and it won’t mess up the disc.” She winked and handed it to him, Spencer blushing and turning around to make sure no one was at the door.
“Thank you, Penelope. Really.”
“It’s nothing. Thank me when you finally confess your love to that himbo.”
“What’s a-”
“You know what, I’m not explaining that to you. Go home, try and go to sleep early tonight.” She said, pushing him out the door with his new CD. As the door closed in his face, Spencer started to say,
“Have a nice-” But it closed before he could say “-night.” He sighed and walked down the hall, carrying his CD and bag with him towards the elevator. He didn’t expect to see anyone else, but lo and behold Derek Morgan walking towards the elevator at the same time.
“Hey, Reid.” He said, stepping into the elevator with him.
“Hey,” Spencer replied, glancing everywhere but into Derek’s eyes. They were about level, height-wise, and this made it harder for Spencer to avoid his gaze, so he just stared down at the ground.
“Look, if you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine. I just want to know why.” Spencer’s face heated up in shame, and he looked to Derek.
“I’m sorry that I’ve been acting so cold lately. I’ve been having a hard time, but Garcia helped me realize I shouldn’t be shutting people like you who care about me out.”
“Garcia helped you realize-” Derek paused, thinking. “How long have you two been talking?” He asked, curious.
“Pretty much every day since September.”
“Ok ok, I see.” Spencer didn’t question the way Derek asked how long he’d been talking to Garcia, and switched the topic of conversation.
“Four days and counting until the Secret Santa party.” He said, glancing back at Derek.
“Yeah, you excited?”
“Mostly excited to see who mine is.” Spencer said, staring at the elevator doors, which had just opened. “Have a good night,” He said, walking out the doors of the building, rushing towards his car.
“Yeah, you too.” He said, but Derek knew that Spencer was long gone by now. Derek left the building and walked towards his car, starting it and leaving the parking lot as quick as he got here this morning.
The day of the Secret Santa party, Hotch had one case for them. When they got to the round table, everyone was pretty disappointed, because cases often meant that they came back late and in a bad mood. But it turned out that this one was just an hours drive away, and even quicker on the jet, so everyone hopped in, hoping that this wouldn’t take long.
The case only ended up lasting the day, as the killer was sloppy and left behind an extensive trial. The BAU team boarded the jet wondering why they were even called in to help in the first place.
“Hey, at least this means you all can still come over tonight.” Rossi said positively.
“Yeah, everyone’s coming, right?” JJ said, scanning the plane, but no one spoke up. Just nods of heads to confirm that they were all going.
They all took their seperate cars to Rossi’s, with Emily riding with JJ because she left her car at her apartment and took the subway.
When Spencer got there, the house was lit up. Rossi and Hotch had been the first ones to arrive, and shortly after Spencer the rest came filing in the door, joking and laughing with everyone. Spencer caught sight of everyone holding their gifts, wondering which bag or wrapped box was for him. Penelope was the last to come in, taking off her shoes at the door like everyone else and smiling at him with a wrapped present.
“Not for you,” She said, seeing the look on his face “That comes later.”
They all ate good food and talked and drank wine that night, and everything seemed perfect for that moment in time.
“Ok, ok. It is time for the event that we all came here for to take place!” Penelope said, a little wine drunk, standing up and grabbing her present. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, everyone stand up and go find whoever you were assigned. That’s it, good luck.”
They all rose from their seats to go find their assigned person. Spencer just silently waited. He knew he had Morgan, but he wanted to receive his present first and then find Derek because he was a little more… personal, and he didn’t want anyone getting in the way. Just then Derek made his way to him . No, no way is this happening, he thought, terrified and excited at the same time.
“Spencer Reid,” He said, handing the doctor a poorly wrapped present “I believe this is for you.”
“Oh my god,” Reid said, eyes darting between the present and Morgan.
“What?” Derek asked, visibly confused.
“Here. You were who I was assigned.” Spencer said bluntly, shoving the small present towards him.
“What are the odds,” Derek said, and then added as Spencer opened his mouth “please do not actually tell me the odds,” and they both laughed, unwrapping their gifts to each other. Spencer, since he got his gift first, unwrapped it faster and found a book.
“Derek, I love this,” It was a book he had never read before, and from the many books Spencer Reid had read, there weren’t a lot of those left. “Thank you.” He said, looking at him. He thumbed through the pages as the scent of the new book filled the air around them.
“Look at the inside cover.” Derek said, with a hint of shakiness in his voice.
“Only if you look at the CD.” Derek was holding the case in his hands, not taking the disc out itself yet. He was going to listen to it on the car ride home, he had told himself.
“Ok,” Derek wondered what was written on the CD. Probably just a funny playlist name or some fun fact about music, he thought dismissively. At the same time he pulled the disc gently from it’s casing, Spencer opened the cover to the book. In Spencer’s scrawled handwriting, Derek made out the words ‘I love you.’ written in black sharpie on the disc. As Spencer opened the book, he found Derek’s bold lettering on the cover page, saying ‘I love you.’
At the same time, they both looked at each other and came to a realization that this was not platonic. This wasn’t the way friends said they loved each other. And they both realized that the other felt the same way that they had been feeling for months.
“I love you too,” They both said at the same time, both letting out a laugh and realizing what happened.
“My place after this?” Derek asked under his breath.
“Most definitely.” Spencer replied, leaving Derek with a kiss on the cheek to go talk to Penelope.
#moreid#moreid fic#i love them!!#fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fic#spencer reid#derek morgan#tooth rotting fluff.#fluff#light angst
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
Last Thing I Do II Spencer Reid
Summary: SSA Davis has found her sister shot in front of her by her sisters stalker. When her best friend is left pick up the pieces just like she did for him.
Warning: Cursing, Drug Mentions, Guns, Shooting, Blood. Very sad, Angst
This story is very similar to Maeve’s story. I completely made up the scene where they try and catch the unsub.
WC: 2.4k
I used a real name because it was easier to write feel free to change the name !!
masterlist
I DO NOT OWN THE GIFS I USED !
"SSA Davis," I spoke confidently on the phone.
"Yes I understand." I say. I walk out of my office and into the meeting room.
"No time to get comfortable. This is huge." Garcia said turning on her remote.
"Three Murders in the past two nights."
"A mom and son and a younger man?" Reid questioned.
"Yes."
"Okay they need us in Atlanta Georgia. Wheels up in 30." I sigh.
"Are we ever going to get a break." JJ sighs. I shake my head no before going to my office. I sit in there for a second my head spinning a little bit. I hear a soft knock at my door.
"Yeah." I say. Spencer steps in.
"Hey what's up." I say
"Can I ask you a question?" he asks.
"You just did." I laugh. He rolls his eyes.
"No but for real what do you need?" I ask
"There was three different drugs found in the bodies. A drug for each person. What do you think that could me?" he asks.
"They're probably a sadist. Who somehow has a connection to drugs." I say.
"I get that but how would all of them get the types of drugs into them without a prescription. Besides LSD." he said
"I don't know but we'll figure it out." I say softly rubbing a hand on his arm. He nods.
"Let's go." I say we both grab our to-go bag's and head out onto the plane. We sit down on the plane only having to be on there for an maybe twenty minutes all of us decide to just sit quite and do our own thing. Ever since Hotch left to spend more time being a dad and I was put in charge I've always felt different. I don't like being in this high authority but I promised Hotch I would keep this team on track. Ring. I look down at the contact. Amber is calling,
"Hey I'm on the plane I'll text you later. Love ya." I send the text and turn off my phone. We land all of us heading to the cars. Driving down to the police station. I walk in there.
"Hello, I'm SSA Davis, These are agents Rossi, Morgan, Jareau, Prentiss, and Dr. Reid." all of them shake hands with the Sheriff except Spence. He just nods shoving his hands in his pockets.
"Okay. We have all the files Garcia asked for on a table and a conference room set up. If you need anything don't be afraid to ask." we all nod.
"Okay JJ, Morgan ya'll go to the the house of where the last murder took place. Prentiss and Rossi, ya'll talk to the witnesses and families. Reid and I will go down and get the autopsy report's and examine the body." I say we all split up. I give Spencer the keys as we drive. I feel a vibration from my pocket. I pull my phone out to see my sister calling again. I hit decline deciding to call her tonight. We pull up at the morgue. I look at my notebook making sure I have a pen to take notes.
"Who still takes notes." Reid teases.
"Not all of us have an eidetic memory." I ruffle his hair. He let's out a huff before laughing.
"SSA Davis?" the autopsy technicians asks.
"Yes."
"Okay well in the mom there we severe levels of a date rape drug called Rohypnol in her body."
"Rohypnol also knows as Forget-me pill, R2, and Roofies is a pill some versions of it turns blue when added to liquid but other forms have no color when added to liquid." Spencer states.
"So she was roofied. Did she have an alcohol in her system? Maybe she got it at a bar and the unsub followed her home."
"No there we're nothing but water and rohypnol found in her body."
"Any food?"
"No."
"What about the-" I was cut off by my ringer going off. I shut it off again.
"Sorry about that. What about the boy?"
"He was a teen there we're high levels of Phencyclidine found in his system."
"It creates numbness of the legs and arm areas so he can't move."
"Yes, we think this was a really well though out plan to this because there was no way that this could've just happened randomly." I nod.
"What about the other one. We we're told high levels of LSD were found. So was he drugged when he died or was he coming off the high?" Spencer asked.
"We looked but couldn't really tell. But we made an educated guess and are saying that it was already in his system maybe to get him where they wanted him."
"They?"
"There's no way that only one person could do this. It had to be a team." she says. I nod.
"Thank you for you're time. If you have any more evidence please give us a call." I give her my card and she nods. We walk out and sit in the car.
"So they we're drugged before they could get away. Kept there for a day or two given water but no food and then brutally murdered. They are definitely a sadist." Reid says I nod.
"Let's go Morgan says the father of the kids are there."
"Father as singular."
"Yes apparently he is the father of both kids. Different moms." I say. He nods speeding off. We make it to the precinct. Spence and I walk into the interrogation room.
"John Hunter." I shake his hand.
"Why am I in here I didn't do anything." he pleaded.
"We needed you to be somewhere where there were not many people." he nods.
"Do you know who these three people are?" Reid asked.
"Yes that's my wife and sons." okay.
"Who are these two people." I ask.
"That's my ex-wife and son."
"Why isn't you're son with you in these photos. But you're youngest with you're first wife is."
"He was mentally ill. They had to take him away when me and my first wife Rose got a divorce he tired to kill his brother. Drowning him in a bathtub. He was sick." I nod.
"Can you give me his name." I ask
"Jack Hunter." he says. I nod and walk out. Dialing Garcia.
"Goddess of Everything Computer Related how may I help you."
"Hey can you do a background search on Jack Hunter and when he was released form a mental hospital. "
"Yes ma'am." she says,
"Okay so he was released from St. Claire's Mental Instantiation two weeks before the first murder."
"What about his mom?"
"Rose Strut she was given... you'll never guess."
"What."
"Phencyclidine"
"God I love you Garcia." I hang up seeing four missed call from my sister in the past twenty minutes. Reid walks out.
"It's time to give the profile." I said.
----
"We are looking for Jack Hunter and Rose Strut. They we're last seen two miles south of the Savannah River." I said.
"They could possibly be armed so if you are to see them do not go up to them. They will not be afraid to kill at this point." Emily said.
"If you do see them at any point. Please call the police and get away fast." Morgan finished. I hear my ringer again.
"Hey Garcia what's up."
"You'll never guess who's phone just pinged at a cell phone tower five minutes away,"
"Send the address." I circle my fingers telling everyone to load up.
---
Jack and Rose we're now being put into life in prison without the possibility of parole. We we're all getting off the plane when my phone goes off.
"Ash. "
"Hey Amber . What's up."
"She's back help-" before she said anything else I heard screaming.
"AMBER" I yell into my phone.
"AMBER." I yell again. Everyone looking at me. They put the stairs down. I grab my bag running down.
"Davis." I hear my team yell. I race to my car unlocking it. I start the car as fast as I can driving away. I'd be at Amber's house in a matter of minutes but realizing I wasn’t going fast enough I turn on my lights speeding down the high way. I finally pull onto her street. I stop at her drive way running up my gun sitting in my hand. I try opening the door but its locked, I kicked in the door. Looking all around before sighing. I heard a muffled scream come from the front yard so I run out the door as quick as I can seeing her. Holding a gun to Amber’s head. I must have forgotten my head set was on because I could hear the team yelling for me through it.
"Don't you come any closer or I will kill her."
"Please you don't have to do this." I begged.
"You killed my mom. I think it's only fair." she laughs. I take a step forward.
"Stop fucking moving." she yelled. I held my hand up my gun still in my hands.
"Drop your gun." she said. I drop my gun. She looks at me again and laughs,
"See I'm going to kill her either way but now you're just defenseless." she laughs. It was almost to fast to happen. A ring came into my ear's and I see her drop to the ground.
"AMBER." I called out
Blood spilling out of her head. I don't know if something kicked in my I grab my gun out of my leg canister and pull the trigger.
"Oh hun. I'm not that easy to kill." she picks up her gun. Before shooting one last shot hitting me in my arm. I hissed in pain.
"I will kill you if it's the last thing I do. Weather I actually kill you are watch you fall apart mentally I will watch you suffer." she laughs falling to the ground. I see the lights flooding around us. I drop to my knees crying.
"Amber." I say softly. I put her limp body in my lap. I stroke the hair out of her face kissing her forehead. I see my team moving out of there cars. Kiera being taken away into cuffs. At this point all I'm doing is crying. I feel someones arms around me as they pick up my sister. I try to fight back but its inevitably not worth it. I'm covered in her blood. I turn around to see Spencer's arms around me. I almost fall in them crying.
"Come on. We need to get you're arm looked at." We walk to the ambulance. I sit on the edge having them tear into my shirt cleaning up the barley scraped skin. I start staring into the space. Until. I grab Spencer's arm looking into his eyes.
"She has a kid. Where's Blake." I said softly.
"We'll find him. Right now you have to go to the hospital. I'll come with you okay." he says just as softly.
"Okay."
----
They say it's always the hardest after. But what's hardest was telling my mom that it could've been me not her or that she would still be alive if I didn't move. Her funerals today. But a part of me can't go. This is my fault. I can almost hear my parents saying it to me but, none the less I still go. They found Blake and Tom her husband. They we're on out at a movie. Amber had to stay home for work. They don't blame me. They tried to tell me that I couldn't stop it even if I tried. Blake isn't old enough to understand what it means yet but he'll get there one day.
---
The funeral is over. I'm sitting in my tiny apartment surrounded by my feelings. My team couldn't be here. They were needed somewhere else. Even though Spence did offer to stay with me.
~ Flashback ~
"Spence." I called out.
"Spence I'm not leaving so please let me in." I say. I hear the door's locks come undone. He opens the door. He's standing there in a t-shirt, a cardigan, and a pair of pants, his hair was a mess, his eyes were puff, and he had bags under his eyes.
"Spence." I pull him into a hug. He wraps his arms around me crying into my shoulder.
"I couldn't do anything about it." he cries harder.
"Pretty boy, listen. It's not your fault. As much as I hate to say it. Diane already knew what she was going to do. Baby you couldn't stop that." I said softly. He just cry's.
"Can I come in?" he nods. I grab his hand he shuts and locks the door. I walk to his bed and lay down opening my arms. He cuddles into them laying his head on my chest.
"Go to sleep kid. I'll be right here when ever you need me." I look at him. I kiss his forehead before putting my hand in his hair.
"I'll always be here for you." I said softly. His grip around my waist got tighter.
~ End of Flashback ~
I stood there a picture of us hung on the wall.
"I'm sorry." I said softly.
"Ash." I hear Spencer's voice call out. It startled me so i let out a yelp.
"Ash let me in please." I couldn't move. I hear keys jiggle and I see the door nob turn. Fuck why'd I have to give him a key.
"Ash." he says softly looking at me. He looked at me head to toe. I was wearing a pair of sweatpants and some how his 'Caletech' shirt. He sets his stuff on my counter and looks at me. I walk over to him standing in front of him. I let a tear drip down my cheek. He wraps his arms around me. I start sobbing in his chest.
"Why are you here..." I ask looking into his eyes. He placed a kiss on my forehead. His hands on both sides of my face.
"Because you we're here day after day when Maeve was killed so I will be here day by day until you are okay. because I love you. I love you more than anything." he says softly. I look into his eyes they were glistening with hope
"You love me?" I ask.
"Of course I do. I've loved you since day you offered to help me through everything you stuck by my side through everything, all my stupid little lectures, my rants, and facts. You're one of a kind." he said. I look up at him one more time. I lean forward into his lips. Melting together like butter.
"I love you too." he smiles and kisses me again.
"Let's go lay down." he says I nod.
“Everything will be okay” he whispers in your ear
#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid#spencer#spencer reid smut#mgg fic#matthew gray gubler#mgg fanfiction#mgg#mgg smut#derek morgan#garcia#emily prentiss#jenifer jareau#david rossi
61 notes
·
View notes
Note
this is dom harry bro no questions he'd just sit there eating u out for hours but wouldnt let u come
“Please.”
“No.”
“Harry, please.”
“Mm-mm.”
It’s been hours. Literal hours.
Her best guess is two, but it feels more like twenty. She’s hypersensitive, and it’s not helping that he’s refusing to let her cum.
Y/N can only hold out for so long before her body takes on a mind of its own and breaks down without his or her permission, so she tries to focus her thoughts on something—anything— else. Anything but him.
Her mind wanders to how she’d ended up in this position in the first place.
How she had thought he’d come in from the airport and they’d go out for some dinner and maybe save all of the raunchiness for the later half of the evening.
But of course he couldn’t wait. He’d been waiting for three days, and now he was refusing to leave his post between her drenched thighs to make up for it.
Harry had gone to Cancun for a couple of days to shoot something top secret, leaving Y/N behind in Philly, where he was planning to come back to put some more business details in order for his next album.
When he had walked through the door of the hotel room, she almost didn’t recognize him.
He’d gotten very tan during those days in Mexico and she could tell it was natural. His nose was already starting to peel and the edges of his hairline were sun-bleached, along with a wave of honey and auburn highlights running through his usual chestnut brown curls. He was sporting crisp white shorts, a simple black button-up with the first two buttons undone, a black windbreaker, and her own pair of scuffed up white Vans that she had let him borrow.
He tended to take something of Y/N’s with him whenever he went away, even if just for a little bit. An old oversized Jurassic Park t-shirt that smelled like her, a wooden bead bracelet she got when they visited Animal Kingdom, the silver charms from one of her favorite necklaces that dote her initials, which he would loop around his cross chain. A ruby and black diamond ring he had gifted her for her birthday that fit perfectly around his pinky, her favorite pair of cactus-patterned socks— the list is endless. Point being, this time around he decided on the pair of Vans he found at the bottom of her suitcase.
Harry loves that he never had to ask to borrow her stuff; she just let him raid whatever he wanted because it truly touched her that he always wanted to have a piece of her on him.
Those pair of raggedy Vans had ended up kicked into the corner of the room beside his suitcase as he distractedly shrugged off one shoulder of his jacket, the other occupied holding his phone to his ear.
“Yeah, that’s what we planned. Mitch texted and said he was boarding his flight so he should be here by tonight, probably around ten. The latest, twelve, depending on traffic.” Harry had grabbed his phone from its spot between his ear and shoulder, switching sides to slide off the rest of the windbreaker. “Okay, so nine tomorrow morning? The room’s booked and everything? Alright, sick! I’ll text you when I’m on my way. Later.”
Harry had tapped the screen of his phone, releasing a long sigh of relief through his nose as he chucked it onto the free bed along with his jacket, running one of his large hands up his tired face and through his messy locks.
Y/N had spoken up first, voice clear even over the Sugar Rush episode playing on the TV in the background. “How was Cancun?”
Harry’s drained gaze had focused on her and somehow, just looking at her— just seeing his girlfriend laying on the disheveled bed in one of the lavish, creme-colored hotel bathrobes with rainbow fuzzy socks covering her wiggling toes and her bangs pinned back haphazardly with a clip— had inflated a certain warmth inside him that rose up from the heels of his feet to the tips of his fingers, expanding in his chest and squeezing out any stress and exhaustion milling in his veins.
He had pursed his lips into a small, lopsided smile full of tender fondness, his eyes softening and glossing over with the comfort that comes from her familiar scent of chamomile shampoo and apple lip balm. “It went great. Everyone was lovely, the filming got done quick and easy, the food was as amazing as ever, but...”
Harry had trailed over to the front of the bed, falling onto his knees and then hands, crawling across the mattress until he was hovering over her with arms propped on either side of her head and knees straddling her hips. He’d pressed a delicate kiss to the center of her forehead, leaning down to nudge her nose with his. “...I missed you.”
Y/N cocked her head back to lock eyes with her boyfriend, his smile contagious. “Well, I missed my Vans.”
Harry had broken into an amused snort, shaking his head lightly as he speckled pecks all over her face. His tone was dramatic and full of pretend anguish. “My poor heart!”
She was reduced to a giggling mess as she wrapped her arms securely around his neck, his own arms weaving their way between the bed and her lower back to keep her trapped as his mouth brushed across every tickle spot he’d learned like the back of his hand.
Harry had pulled back from his little attack, grinning ear to ear with his dimples on full display. He’d balanced himself on his elbows, fingers reaching up to tuck her unkempt hair out of her face.
They’d laid like that for a moment; Harry snuggled between her legs, irises flickering over the tiny details of her face, taking her in. The way her lips were lightly chapped, her cheeks warmer than usual, her chest heaving and neck flexing with every breath she’d gulp down. The way her eyes were bright, almost as if infused with literal starlight. The way her hands were gripping at his wrists gently and the way she kept glancing down at his mouth, inviting it to meet her’s.
“Y’know what I’ve been thinking about all fucking day?” His voice had been soft— barely above a mumble— but filled with a type of desperate conviction that she rarely saw in him.
“Mm?” Her fingers had tightened around his wrists curiously.
He’d taken in a shaky breath, letting it out slowly in such a way that it rattled his lungs. His tongue had peeked out to swipe across his bottom lip, which had then pursed with his top one in anticipation.
“Been thinking about eating you out for hours.”
Y/N’s heart had tripped a step at his confession, which had come out as a sigh of needy pleading.
“Yeah?”
Harry had nodded his head sluggishly, leaning forward to lightly touch his lips to her Cupid’s Bow. The warmth of his words traced the outline of her mouth suggestively, sending a shiver racing down the knobs of her spine. “All fucking day, baby. Spent every second on that plane thinking about how sweet you’d taste on my tongue and how good it’d feel to have you dripping down my chin.”
One of Y/N’s hands had left its spot, opting for tracing his top lip with its fingers instead. “For hours?”
Harry had nodded almost feverishly, a small whimper stringing at the back of his throat at the sensation of the ridges of her skin passing over his. “Just been craving you a bit extra, lately. Was practically running through the airport to get here.”
She’d release small laugh in the form of a scoff, taking her bottom lip between her teeth. “I thought we’d go out to dinner first or something and save this for later, but if you really need it that bad...”
“Fuck, minx, I need it so fucking bad.”
Harry had left no time for her to think it over twice, pushing back to sit on his heels and tugging the tie of her bathrobe loose. “Jesus Christ...”
Y/N had prepared for the occasion.
In the short time he’d been away, she’d gone shopping at a mall near the hotel. She hadn’t really gone with the intent of purchasing anything, but then she ran into a specific set of lingerie that she just couldn’t pass up.
It was bright red lace, the fabric littered with glitter. It came with a bra (which had a bow over the middle of each cup and one at the center of the piece, which could be undone to remove the article from the front) and a pair of high-waisted cheeky panties with matching garters that fit perfectly mid-thigh.
Y/N could practically see Harry’s mouth watering as he had blinked at her a few times, utterly dumbfounded, mouth slightly parted. A hue as red as her undies had crawled up his neck and spilled across his cheeks, as well as the shells of his ears and the tip of his button nose.
“I was saving it for later.” She’d murmured softly, keeping her vision trained on his face, drinking up every twitch and jolt of his expression and letting it overflow her ego. She had spread her legs, hooking them over the back of each of his knees as she sunk further into the sheets, allowing her plush robe to skim down her upper arms. “But you can tear it off now, if you want.”
And that brings her to where she is now, with her head thrown back against the mound of expensive feather pillows, fingers woven into Harry’s damp curls as she bucks against his face, his forearms draped over her outer thighs to keep her pinned down to the mattress.
“Fucking hell, Har, please just let me cum.”
When he said for hours, she thought he’d meant it hyperbolically.
“Stay still.” His voice is low and raspy, thick with lust and drunk on her taste.
She thought it would’ve been maybe twenty minutes— forty, tops— but those minutes had turned to an hour, and that hour into two. The first hour he’d spent biting into her inner thighs and tonguing her over the lace panties, only removing them after they were embarrassingly drenched (and with his teeth, of course). The last hour had been him nose-deep between her thighs, fingers working into her thoroughly as he lapped at her folds like he hadn’t eaten in weeks.
“God, you’re so fucking wet.” Harry pulls back a bit, lips, dimples, and the point of his nose gleaming with her excitement. He messily drags his knuckles up her pulsing clit, trying to clean her up a bit so he can get in further without feeling suffocated.
The milky liquid coats the back of his hand generously, dripping down onto his fingers and smearing across the soaked sheets. He glimpses down at it, instinctively bringing it up to his mouth and licking every drop off his knuckles. His tongue passes over his skin and between his fingers, eyes flickering upwards to lock onto her’s. His irises glitter with a form of self-satisfied snarkiness, glittering with different tones of green, light blue, and crystal amber in the deeper crevices.
Harry pushes his first two digits entirely past his lips, lids fluttering shut as he inhales a quaking sigh through his nose, humming a moan in the back of his throat. His words are muffled over his full mouth, but passable nonetheless. “Shit, you taste so bloody sweet.”
Her whole body caves upwards, thighs clenching and heels digging into the bed. Her voice is broken and whiney. “Wanna cum so bad.”
“I know y’do, darling. I know.” He pulls out with a wet pop, licking over his swollen lips and glistening chin. “But I’m just having too much fun. Just a little longer, I promise.”
Harry’s large hands cup over her quivering outer thighs, yanking her back towards his face. He picks up again with tiny puppy licks across the sensitive bud at the center of her folds, hips absentmindedly grinding into the bed to ease the radiating ache itching the underside of his balls.
Y/N tugs harder at his sun-kissed curls, feeling him hiss against her— the vibrations cause her knees to twitch. “I c-can’t hold off anymore...”
The pads of his digits bruise her skin. “Y’can— know y’can. If you want me to fuck you tonight, you better.”
Harry flattens his tongue out across the thickest part of her crotch, turning his face slowly from side to side as his fingers gently curl inside her, brushing against her tightening walls and resulting in a shattered whimper straining her throat. “That’s a good girl, hm? Love the sounds you make for me— they’re so fucking pretty. Love the way I make you squeal.”
Y/N’s words choke out in sputters, interrupted by abrupt breaths she can’t help but inhale. “Feels—so good— fuck—!”
“Such a darling little thing, aren’t you?” Harry looks up at her from underneath his thick lashes and cockily furrowed brows, the edges of his lips peeking up in a smug simper from between her legs. “Bought yourself something nice for me to fuck you in and thought you could go prancing around in it all night without me knowing until we got back.”
“Wanted it to be a s-surprise.”
“Yeah? Well, I’ve got a surprise for you, too.”
Harry backs away from her slightly with a final rough lick, removing his fingers from inside her and sloppily wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. He reaches over her left hip, hooking the ruined panties with his index finger and holding them up above her abdomen for her to see. A certain mischievous glossiness washes across his darkened eyes.
“You’re going to put these back on and spend the entire night in them. Want you sitting at dinner in the mess you made, thinking about how hard I’m gonna pound you when we get back.”
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Okay so that last one with scout losing snipes broke my heart into a zillion pieces so... What if sniper never died? Maybe he was badly hurt and is hiding somewhere... -🐑
i really like how you people keep doing this thing where you’re like “hey what if you ripped my whole heart out and stomped on it” then i do because you literally asked and you're all “owie :( ouch owie :( can i have a band-aid now” like it’s funny every time
(warnings for mention of firearms and discussion of severe life-threatening injury)
-
His contract expired.
Somewhere along the line—wonder when?—apparently his work had gotten ‘sloppy’. He’d gotten ‘erratic’. So six years after what all happened, when his contract was up to be renewed, Miss Pauling gently urged him to let it expire and to just head home.
It wasn’t like he had a good reason not to. He didn’t particularly get along with any of the team (anymore). A few of them had come and gone—Pyro apparently got reassigned somewhere and was gone overnight, and at some point Demo decided to leave mercenary work altogether to get a real, proper, legally sound job somewhere. Both of them had been replaced.
Their new Sniper wasn’t as polite as—
She was even more of a recluse, although she got along alright with Heavy sometimes. She was also Russian, which probably helped. And Scout felt a little bad about how much he hated her. She couldn’t help what happened. It wasn’t her fault. She was just picking up the baton on this job. Someone had to do it.
Mostly he just ended up avoiding her. And everyone else.
Exactly once he’d tried to take up dating again. Someone had gotten particularly sweet when he was out at a bar, and they’d flirted for a little while, then they’d suggested they both head somewhere else, and that they had a car if he wanted to—
He quietly stammered his way through a refusal. The vague guilt and unease reached a head the second he thought about getting in a car.
He’d needed to sell his car and get a motorcycle instead, at some point. The idea of getting in a vehicle had become an irrational fear, after he’d seen a picture of the wreckage, smelled the acrid smoke on the salvaged belongings.
That was one reason he took a plane home and had all his stuff shipped separately.
That meant that it was a few days of wearing only his old clothes when he got back, waiting for the rest to show up. And those were a little hard to squeeze into, he’d really been a lanky fuck before he became a mercenary.
The only thing he had at home that fit right was the suit, left there hanging in his closet to get eaten by moths.
The suit and the boxes of things were all shoved into the far side of his closet, and they stayed that way. He felt like maybe he wouldn’t ever be ready to look at them again, and in the meantime, they just made him feel guilty.
For the first two months after he got off work, he didn’t really do much. He stayed home, stayed out of trouble. Put his things away, sorted through what he wanted to keep and what he could just get rid of, either selling it or scrapping it if it was just kinda garbage. He tried to catch up with his brothers a little bit, the ones left in Boston still, but he didn’t get very far, feeling weird and disconnected.
After two months, he finally felt bad about Ma constantly tip-toeing around the topic of employment or hobbies (not that he needed to worry about those—he had enough money saved to not worry about much of anything until he was like, eighty), and he started trying to look for work, or maybe just something to keep him busy. For a month or so he looked into becoming a bartender, but the hours were a little weird. He thought about trying to get into doing baseball on some professional level, but he was getting a little old to be going into it for the first time since his late teens and early twenties. He very briefly looked into doing the cartoons for the newspaper—he was pretty good at art by then—before he found out they would require some amount of actual schooling for it.
So he ended up latching onto that, and started heading to the library five or six days a week to spend a few hours there studying to get his GED. His Ma supported him wholeheartedly on it, and got around to telling him, about a month into his new routine, that she was really glad he found something to do, something he wanted, that he’d just seemed so miserable, before, waiting around for something to happen.
Maybe she was right. He was waiting around for something to happen. He got the speech from Miss P—“ten years following your departure from the team, you and anyone nearby you will be kept in the system, and if there’s anyone who tries to bring you harm we’ll catch them before they can, and here’s a phone number to call if anything suspicious happens that you want looked into”. To him, that meant “someone might try and kill you”. So he did stay strapped when he went places, looked over his shoulder, kept an eye on doors and other potential exits.
So when he got back from the library one day and saw a car parked out in front of the house, at least he was prepared.
He thought fast. Kept driving past the house and parked a little ways down the block—he could drive the bike back later, it didn’t matter. He unlocked the door as quietly as he could, pushed it open with his shoulder, pistol drawn and cocked, falling back into old habits maybe a little too easily considering he hadn’t been a mercenary for almost a year and a half.
Voices from the living room—not from the TV, and not Ma on the phone, because he could also hear the TV, and there was a commercial playing that he recognized, one that didn’t involve Ma and a second, much deeper voice.
He steadied his hands, rolled his shoulders, and stepped into the room, leveling his gun directly at the head of the person within.
First he took stock of the fact that Ma was indeed there, sitting on the couch, looking relatively relaxed and entirely unharmed, if surprised to see him there and also with a gun. Then he took stock of the room, saw that there was only one other person here, the one he was pointing a gun at, the one who had slowly raised his hands up to either side of his head. Potentially unarmed, it was hard to tell with his baggy jacket—
Wait a minute.
Scout frowned, squinted, looking over his face a little more closely as realization started creeping into view.
He tried to imagine, for a second. What exactly would seven years do to a guy?
Maybe he’d end up with his hair growing out a lot longer, from close-cut to hanging down around his ears. Maybe with a beard, relatively clean but still a bit messy in some ways. Maybe he’d get new clothes, his eyes would sink a little bit more, would start to crinkle at the corners. More freckles, more spots maybe. Aged, scarred. Maybe he’d be wearing glasses. Maybe, despite all of that, he wouldn’t look all that different at all.
“...’llo, Bilby,” Sniper said quietly, hopefully, voice rough, and maybe he meant to say more, but he didn’t get the chance, because Scout lowered his gun, marched three steps forward, and slapped him clear across the face.
It was a hefty slap. The smack noise was practically ringing, and his hand stung like a bitch, and he’d hit him hard enough to knock his glasses off to clatter across the floor, and his head snapped back at the force of it, and the noise he made was satisfyingly pained.
“Right. Probably deserve that,” he croaked, and maybe he meant to say more, but he didn’t get the chance, because Scout tucked back away his gun, grabbed Sniper by the sides of his head, and kissed him square on the mouth.
It was a hard kiss, hard enough that he got Sniper to do that thing where he made an undignified little squeaky noise of surprise, caught off guard by it. He only melted forward for a second or two before Scout was pulling back away again.
“You fucking piece of shit son of a bitch cunt I’m gonna fucking kill you,” Scout practically snarled.
“Jeremy,” his Ma admonished from the couch.
“He’s right,” Sniper said weakly.
“I’m gonna kill you,” Scout insisted, just as fiercely. “What the fuck happened to you?!”
“There was a—“ Sniper started explaining, but Scout cut him off.
“Car bomb between 2:45 and 2:50 PM twenty minutes away from the nearest city limits,” he listed off, “I know that, but what—seven fucking years, Snipes!”
“I know,” Sniper said, voice flimsy. “First two years were recovery and physical therapy, next four were trying to get legal papers and apply for a visa to get back into the States again.”
“That bad?” Scout asked, still angry but faltering.
“Needed reconstructive surgery on... most of the left side of my body. Lost some teeth,” he said, and tugged his lip back on one side to show him where three teeth, the three behind the canines, were a slightly different color, then dropped his hand again. “Plenty of scars. Might be, er... missing a lot of those freckles you liked. And... voice comes and goes sometimes. But, Australian miracle medicine, I’m much better than I was.”
“You grew your hair out,” Scout noted next, carding his hands up through it.
Sniper laughed. “Lost half my teeth and needed a new coat of paint on the whole left of me, and you’re worried about my hair?” he chided.
“It’s just new, thought you hated it getting long,” Scout shrugged.
“Y’know,” his Ma said, sounding all too amused by the proceedings, approaching with Sniper’s glasses and handing them over to him, “you’re lucky you showed me those pictures all those years ago, Jeremy. Otherwise, strange guy shows up at our door askin’ about your work name and all, I would’a started blasting.”
She nodded meaningfully towards the table beside the couch, and Scout saw that indeed she had a gun there, taken from its place where he kept it stashed by the door as a “just in case”.
“Thanks, Ma,” he said, smiling a little.
“No problem, sweetheart,” she said, and patted him on the arm. She glanced between him and Sniper and scooped up the firearm from the table. “I’ll just go put this away,” she said, and left the two of them alone.
“Would’ve been easier to track you down if you’d given me more to go on than ‘southern Boston’,” Sniper said, eyebrows rising. “And if I didn’t need to be so careful about how I asked.”
“Huh?”
Sniper’s expression fell a little, and he raised his hand to fix his hair where Scout had mussed it up. “Look, you know the rules. Employer keeps an eye out for us for years after we leave. That means if I asked through my usual methods of tracking people down, that’d send up flashing red lights somewhere. So I... needed to take extra precautions.”
“Miss P told me they took care of the guys that tried to kill you,” Scout said, frowning.
“I went off radar for almost two years without official leave,” Sniper murmured. “And it wasn’t on purpose, but I don’t think they’d believe that. They might try and kill me if they find out I’m still alive. I’m a loose end.”
Scout’s heart dropped.
“Only cut it close once,” Sniper said, gaze falling. “But that was enough for Miss Pauling to get in contact with me, to try to talk to me. I... I told her I’m done, I’m out of mercenary work, and... just as a precaution I have to do a few things now. Check in on the regular. I wear this,” he said, pushing his sleeve up to show off a bulky device on his wrist, bigger than a watch. “It’s tracker. Makes sure I’m only in the places I say I’m going. Had to get a visa by myself, get transportation by myself, and it cut my protection time in half so now I’ve had to hire on someone to guard my parents and keep them safe, but now she’ll keep it secret that I’m alive. They’ll stop looking for me in two years, and if by then I’m still playing by the rules, I’m free. Back to normal life.”
“She said it was okay that you be here?” Scout asked. “In the same city as me? She wasn’t worried about that?”
“Told her why I was coming here,” Sniper shrugged.
“And what’d you tell her?” Scout asked softly.
They looked at each other.
“I... didn’t want to assume,” Sniper said quietly, carefully, looking over his face. “That you’d... I, I understand if you’ve moved on. Seven years, declared dead—“
“I didn’t,” Scout said just as quietly.
Sniper gave a breathless little laugh, cupping his face. “Bilby, I told you to,” he tried.
“Well, so-rry,” Scout said next, throat a little tight, hands on his hips, “Mister—Mister Legally Dead. Sorry I didn’t jump into speed dating the second I got the news. What, you—you wanted me to have kids by now?”
“Wouldn’t blame you,” Sniper shrugged, and kissed him, and pulled back away. “But... I’m glad you didn’t.”
“Well I’m glad you’re glad,” Scout mumbled, and kissed him, and pulled back away. “So...?”
Sniper was smiling, wide and unashamed. “So one day at a time,” he said quietly. “We can talk about it more in a bit. First, mind if I use your phone?”
“Why?”
“Meant to call in to check with Pauling in—“ He glanced around to find the clock in the room. “—three minutes or so. And... I ought to tell her I’ve made progress. And... that we’re sorting out details. Might call you over to talk to her too.”
“Yeah, go ahead. Hallway by the kitchen,” Scout directed, and kissed him again, and again, and again, until Sniper urged him down and off before he was late calling in.
He found himself in the kitchen, looking out the window. Ma was unloading the dishwasher and humming. In the hallway, the sound of talking, long pauses, more talking.
“He seems nice,” Ma said quietly, and shot Scout a smile, and Scout smiled too.
“He was—is,” he corrected quickly, flinching a little bit.
“How you feelin’?” Ma asked.
Scout looked down, crossed his arms over himself. “Y’know how in movies there’s that bit people do, all “feels too good to be true” or whatever?”
“Uh huh.”
“Kinda the opposite. It feels... like him being gone wasn’t real. And now stuff is real again.”
“Like you woke up?”
“...Yeah. Yeah, exactly,” Scout confirmed.
“I could tell,” Ma admitted, and stretched to reach the cabinet to put things away once they were good and dry. “Been a zombie since you got back, seems like maybe you’ve been a zombie for a while.”
Scout moved over to help, taking the dishes that belonged in the higher shelves and starting to put those away. “Sheesh, was I seriously that obvious?”
“It was pretty bad.”
“...Is that, like... normal? Or... healthy?” Scout asked carefully.
Ma laughed. “Sweetheart, how should I know?”
“But you know, like, everything.”
Ma pinched him on the cheek at the compliment and he squawked a complaint, and she laughed.
“I don’t know if it’s healthy,” she finally replied. “And... maybe it’s not about whether it’s healthy. Maybe... it’s just one step. And, hey, it worked out, didn’t it?”
“Yeah,” he agreed, and smiled. “Yeah, it did.”
“Bilby,” Sniper called, leaning in to look through the door to the kitchen, phone cord visibly all stretched out. “Wants to talk to you.”
Miss Pauling ran through a brief check to make sure he was indeed Scout, then asked a series of questions. Whether he felt safe with being around Sniper on the regular. Whether Sniper would be staying with him on the regular, and the fact that instead of extending security to cover him, she’d need to just go more lax on Scout’s security to make sure Sniper wasn’t found out.
He was fine with that. All of that.
After the phone call, after a few more questions, he dragged Sniper upstairs and flung open the door to his closet, digging through the dusty old boxes with purpose. Then he was pulling out an item and shoving it directly into Sniper’s chest.
Sniper put his hat back on, and Scout couldn’t help but yank him down into another kiss at the wave of nostalgia and familiarity as Sniper nudged his glasses up and looked at him and asked if it was on crooked, the same way he’d said a hundred times before, a hundred years ago.
And, hopefully, he’d say it a billion more times, for a billion more years. Scout would make sure of it.
80 notes
·
View notes