#and Shaw was for sure hard to keep frozen

[bardicious]

Sudden thought, I wonder if Erik is actually not aware of Charles’ limitations. Erik meets Charles as the latter jumps into the ocean to save him. Charles is calm all through out. Seemingly not afraid to sacrifice OR knows he will not need to sacrifice anything to meet Erik down below.

Charles tells Erik he knows everything about him. To some extent maybe, but not really. Charles gets the gist of people around him. Goes in enough to know who’s a threat, who can be trusted, but he asks Erik’s permission in finding that sweet memory of Erik and his mom. Charles didn’t know about it beforehand.

Erik didn’t even think Charles would feel Shaw’s death, nor the people on the boats. He assumes Charles has the option to not feel it, presumably. Or doesn’t know how bad it could be.

Erik leaves Charles on the beach before Charles learns he can’t feel his legs, he doesn’t see Charles’ breakdown and Charles keeps himself together admirably beforehand. Reigning in what must be extreme amounts of pain.

When Erik sees Charles again, Erik presumes that Charles could and would use his powers on Erik, stop him whenever he wants, because they’re enemies now. When he realizes Charles can’t do that, it is still unfathomable to him. And on the plane it all suddenly makes sense. Charles valued his ability to walk more than his powers, Charles chose to remove his powers. Charles abandoned them all to pretend at being normal.

Not for a second does Erik believe Charles is anything but all put together, all knowing. Presumably naive, Erik knows better how cruel the world is. Has experienced real hardship while Charles, as much as Erik loves him, lived a pampered one. It makes sense to Erik that Charles would pick being human.

Not once does Erik think Charles may have been abused by a step father and a step brother. Suffered an alcoholic mother who possibly drank herself to death long before 1962. Charles simply doesn’t say anything and quite honestly prefers to move on from them, because they don’t matter. Raven and Erik matter tho. His little team of mutants mattered, and every single one he’s met at first year of school and through cerebro matter.

Charles is strong enough to help the mutants in need, guide them, and if he were just willing to see Erik’s point of view, fight the good fight against the humans. Because Charles doesn’t make mistakes, Charles doesn’t have failures, but he fails the rest of them.

Charles, unfortunately, isn’t seen as a fallible person to even Erik. More akin to a god, that Erik needs to protect his mind from, because otherwise, his god will exact judgment and punishment. Take his free will away from him because Erik has disobeyed him. To Erik, while Charles and him are equals, both god figures in their own right, with his helmet he levels out a playing field Charles doesn’t even see.

Of course, this is not unlike everyone else in Charles’ life, though where Erik sees a godly figure, everyone else sees Charles as a parent figure, placing him on a similar high pedestal. Seemingly everyone will tend to ignore Charles’ possible emotional instability or fallibility, the way a child might expect their parent to be all knowing. Charles’ wrongs become grander because surely he knows better. So why did Charles’ let this, whatever this is, happen?

[mandowifey]

MKAY SO WE ALL KNOW ABT AL'S CHEST RIGHT??? Idk why but it looks so smooth-

Anyways how would it go if the reader just straight on tells him that she's obsessed with his man tits?

Anon. This made me ugly laugh at 11 at night. Thank you for this.

○ ○ ○

Fancy You.

Albert Shaw/The Grabber x Fem!Reader

Warnings: General Dead Dove, you're kidnapped by a lunatic, Stockholm Syndrome, Implied NonCon, NSFW content.

(This was not proofed.)

• • •

Time crawled to a halt in this place.

You weren't sure if it was weeks, maybe months since your abduction. When you started scratching lines into the cement walls, you had lost track of the hours that passed. Oftentimes, you couldn't recall if you already marked a day, which meant your count could be wrong or missing altogether. Right now, you stood at 27.

'This place' was a basement. You had taken to thinking of it like your coffin. It was a cold, dark, all-encompassing tomb, which you and many more would die within. Sometimes, you wondered how many before you left their own scratches on the wall. There was no evidence of others, which roused concerns that none of them lasted long enough to count their days. You considered if you were his first, or perhaps his last. Neither option felt palpable.

He collected you around the evening, as usual. Punishment this time had felt less brutal and more sensual, as the welts from his belt bloomed on the flesh of your ass and thighs instead of your back and arms. Hand prints marred your throat and wrists as reminders of your place here. Somewhere between your legs resides something sticky and warm. As you wade through the fog in your mind, you return to consciousness as your captor rocks against you.

'Good girl, m-my good girl.'

A brush of silicone against your throat made your head drop back. Large hands palmed your hips, guiding your flacid body into his. Gasps came quick and muffled behind his mask as he ruts against you, the drag of his girth leaving streaks of precum on your thighs. Each jerk of his body loosened a couple more of your mental screws. Maybe you didn't hate this at all. Maybe you'd always wanted to feel needed.

The man groans something low and guttural in your ear, his fingers bruising your hips as heat spills over your soft thighs. Revulsion fills your stomach like acid, but you can not bring yourself to shed another tear. As his grip loosens, he begins to move you off of his lap and have you stand. He liked to look at you, bloody and broken while covered in his cum. To him, you were a masterpiece meant to admire.

"Look at you," His voice is soft in stark comparison to the brutality in which he took you. "My perfect little dove."

The kitchen floor is cold on your feet, and you feel something in your chest. Perfect, you think, his.

Maybe...

"I like your chest," you say suddenly. Time grinds to a stop, and you are hardly breathing. "It's smooth, nice to look at." Who was this speaking for you? Or perhaps this voice had been there all along, waiting for its chance. The fog in your brain makes you lethargic. Your head felt weighted as it rolled in his direction, your eyes on the sockets of that devilish mask. He was frozen in place, watching you.

Standing up, the man you only knew as Mister towers over you and breathes hard. Fingers cup your chin and pull your face up to look at him. It was difficult to keep your eyes open as consciousness rattled around in your head like loose stones. At this distance, you can see the glean of those predatorial blue eyes.

"What else?"

You blink and try to focus your attention.

"What else?" He says again, his large hand encompassing your jaw in a painful squeeze.

At a loss, you gawk up at him and frantically try to discern what you're being asked. He moves you backward by your jaw until you touch the counter. You gasped as you're lifted by the hips and placed on the edge, legs forced apart so he could slot between them. Slowly, you start to understand. He must not ever receive compliments, certainly not from his victims. You had caught him off guard and thrilled him. You could tell by the way he was already hard again.

The man drags the weeping tip of his cock along your crease and pulls another noise from your throat. As he angles to drive inside of you, he brings that large hand to your throat and presses into the flesh.

"What else do you like about me, kiddo?"

[rolandtowen]

what's up nerds, new fanfiction for yall!

I went on hiatus for three years and came back with Cherik brain rot. Read it on ao3 or under the cut. Chapter two will be up shortly.

It started innocently enough. A chess game, two glasses of scotch, what could go wrong?

The topic of conversation this night was the hypotheticals of their powers.

“Do you think you could control the iron in a person’s blood?” Charles moved one of his knights forward.

Erik hummed noncommittally, moving a pawn forward one space. “I think it’s possible. I haven’t truly had the opportunity to try it.”

“But, could you sense people by their blood perhaps? Not manipulate it, but recognize it the way I recognize minds?”

Erik smirked. “That seems like something I could try without a certain someone getting mad at me.”

Charles put up his hands in mock surrender. “Not saying I want you to mess with people’s veins, but it’d be good to know in case we run into anyone else with your mutation.”

Erik knocked a rook off the board with one of his bishops. “I’ve always wondered, do people have to be alive for you to get into their minds? Hank was telling me the other day that scientists think there can be electrical activity in the brain for a few minutes after death.”

Charles scoffed. “I don’t really make a habit of trying to commune with the dead, darling.” He moved his queen. “Check.”

“Well, what if you could tell those scientists for sure? Connect with someone before they die, and see what all that activity afterwards is about?” Erik moved his king.

Charles stiffened. “I find that highly unethical.” Charles slid his rook to protect his own king.

Erik glanced up at him, gauging his emotions as he moved his last knight. “Just speaking hypotheticals, liebling. Check, by the way.”

Charles made a wasteful move with another pawn, clearly uncomfortable with Erik’s line of thought. “I wouldn’t advise any telepath to stay connected with someone during their death. I did it only once, and never again.”

“What do you mean?” Erik thought that perhaps Charles had reached out to Raven before she died, perhaps to give her some comfort.

Charles’ eyes grew hard. “When you killed Shaw.”

Erik’s hand froze in the middle of moving his rook. Charles saw his confusion immediately.

“What, did you think I was able to keep him frozen and not be connected to him telepathically?”

Erik began to feel a sinking feeling in his gut. “I guess, I thought—I thought you let go when I..”

“When you started driving a coin through his head?” Charles forcefully moved his queen forward. “Had I done that, he could have killed you.”

“So you tied yourself to a dying man?!”

“It’s not my fault you were killing him! Fucking slowly, might I add.”

What?

“You felt him die? Why didn’t you tell me?” The chess game was forgotten.

“When would I have had the time? You shot me and left with my sister.”

Charles regretted his words instantly as Erik lowered his eyes. “To be honest, Erik, I wasn’t entirely sure what happened. It took me weeks to come to terms with the fact that I felt Shaw die. No other telepath has felt another’s death, at least to my knowledge.”

Erik was quiet for a long moment, before speaking in a whisper. “Show it to me.”

“What? No!” Charles sputtered. Erik still wasn’t meeting his eye, so Charles grabbed his chin and forced him to look at him. “Erik, I am not about to force the worst pain I’ve ever felt into your mind.”

“You aren’t forcing me,” Erik countered. “I’m asking you to show me.”

“Why? So you can make some demented penance? This is new level of masochism, even for you.” Erik’s jaw clenched, but his eyes betrayed his emotion. Charles softened his grip on Erik’s chin, scraping a thumb over his cheek. It was wet. “My love, I’ve already forgiven you, for all of it.” He wanted to run his fingers through Erik’s hair, talk him down from this ledge, and forget this whole conversation.

Erik caught Charles’ hand, holding onto it like an anchor. “How am I supposed to forgive myself, Charles? When I never even knew what I did?” Erik brought Charles’ fingers up to his temple. “Show me. You carry so much of my pain, let me carry some of yours for once.”

Charles’ hand was shaking, but Erik sent a mental message, inviting him in, begging—

Please.

Charles’ answer was agony.

***

Immediately, Erik was flooded with voices.

“Now, Charles!”

“Are you okay?”

“Moira, be quiet—I can only control this man for so long.”

Erik was in Charles’ head, in his memory, yet at the same time he was in his own head, as well as Shaw’s. He could see his past self, picking up his helmet.  

“Sorry, Charles.” His own voice, haunting him.

“Erik, please—be the better man—Erik, there will be no turning back!” And just like that, the connection between them was severed as his past self donned his helmet. This was where Erik’s own memory had previously ended their conversation, but now Erik could hear every word that Charles had screamed at him, willing him not kill Shaw.

He felt Charles’ fear when his past self revealed the coin. It was like the floor dropped out from underneath Charles. Chills ran down his spine. He wanted to run, to fight, but Charles knew that if he let go, Erik could die.

For the first time, Erik could also hear Shaw. For a man who presented himself as so superior, his final thoughts were frantic and pleading.

Xavier, please, unfreeze me. Please, I can help you. I have resources, anything you want—you can have it. Please don’t let me die like this—

But overriding Shaw’s babbling was Charles, still focused on Erik, still pleading with him, despite their severed connection.

“No, please, Erik, no.” Charles’ voice was quavering but his power remained strong. Erik could see through Shaw’s eyes as the coin approached, could feel Shaw screaming, but most of all could feel Charles begging to be heard by him. “Please, Erik.”

Erik finally understood the fear. It wasn’t that Charles was so afraid of Erik killing Shaw—Charles was afraid the Erik was going to kill him.

Charles thought he was about to die, but held onto Shaw anyway.

As the coin drew nearer and nearer to Shaw, Erik could hear Charles whimper one last “please”. And then the pain started. Charles could only scream, but even in his agony, Erik could still hear him mentally calling out for him.

Erik, Erik, please, it hurts. Erik could feel Shaw’s skin splitting and his skull cracking, could feel the shards of bone impaling nerves and skin. When Erik killed Shaw, it felt like no time at all passed between the moment the coin entered his head and passed out the other side, but to Charles—this was an eternity. Erik could pinpoint the exact time Shaw’s screams finally cut out, but Shaw was still feeling, which meant Charles was too. After what felt like years, Charles’ connection to Shaw cut out, and Charles’ mind went black.

[jaxieshauna]

another older yellowjackets fic i turned in for my creative writing class.... ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ jac ee shaw nuh !! aka jackie's thoughts on shauna && their relationship post-death . another more jackie-centric one.... (can you tell i'm autistic.....)

(apologies for the somewhat abrupt ending i was struggling :L)

ps:: my #1 hobby is milking that one time shauna called jackie "jax" ^__^

link 2 masterlist here

haunted

wc:: 1290

Haunting Shauna Shipman took really no effort at all. The girl would spend hours upon hours, even full days out in the shed with the frozen corpse. She refused to eat, and drank almost no water. She just sat there talking to what had once been her best friend, her first love, her other half. She would hold the body, blue tinged and stiff, completely drained of life, and tell her everything that she had kept from her when she was alive. She was half convinced that if she tried hard enough she could wish Jackie back to life. If she gave up a bit of herself she could go back to feeling whole. 

Jackie, or rather the ghost who had once been Jackie, could feel Shauna’s desperation. When she’d first thought to haunt the girl she had been angry, oh so angry. She felt hurt and betrayed because Shauna Shipman who was supposed to be her best friend had let her leave, had let her go outside to kill herself slowly in the bitter cold that ate away at her body, her heart. She wanted to hurt the girl who had hurt her. 

The first time she visited she watched Shauna from afar. She felt strangely empty seeing the brunette cradling what had been her body, lips cracked and eyes swollen from crying. She wasn’t sure if Shauna could see her standing in the far corner watching her with a blank expression. For a brief second she felt a twinge of something, possibly guilt, possibly sorrow. For just a moment she found herself questioning the idea, found herself thinking that if Shauna couldn’t see her she might break, might cease to exist completely. She shoved that thought away and forced her mind to go blank as before.

For a while she watched Shauna who still struggled to breathe properly due to her earlier sobs. She was facing Shauna though she still went unnoticed; Shauna was too focused on her corpse. She wanted terribly for the girl to look up. She hated the way she ached for Shauna’s attention – wasn’t she supposed to hate the girl who had given up on her? She almost wanted to laugh – the whole situation was sick. 

Shauna was saying something. Her voice was thick and quiet – Jackie could barely make out her words. “I need you, Jax.” For the first time Shauna moved, carefully propping Jackie’s body up against the wall as if she were sitting next to her. A sort of thrill ran through Jackie. Shauna continued, “It’s crazy but sometimes I really think you’ll come back to me. It's like… if I try hard enough I can still hear your voice. Like you’re talking to me…” Shauna was staring down at her chapped hands. Jackie couldn’t see her face anymore but she could tell from the way Shauna was fidgeting ever so slightly that she was trying not to cry. 

Jackie longed to go over to the girl and wipe the tears that threatened to fall from the brunette’s cheek. She wanted terribly to touch Shauna. As much as she wanted to hate the girl she could not shake the feeling that she still needed Shauna as much as Shauna needed her. Shauna could keep her alive forever. Even after she was no more than a story to the rest of the team, everyone back home, she could live through Shauna’s memory. 

She took a step closer to the girl. She suddenly needed Shauna to see her, to know she was there. Not only to soothe the brunette but herself as well. She didn’t know if she should say something, maybe respond to Shauna’s words or whisper her name to get her attention. She settled for moving closer, closer, closer until she was probably six feet away from the girl.

Sensing her movement Shauna looked up, breath hitching in her throat. Tears filled her brown eyes once more and Jackie ached once more to brush them away. She stood frozen, suddenly unsure of what to do, why she had come. She hadn’t expected Shauna to cry and she wasn’t sure how she felt about this reaction, how to respond to the tears. Despite her longing to move closer Jackie guessed it would be inappropriate if Shauna was already upset. 

But Shauna brushed a hand across her teary eyes, wiping the tears away and she laughed. She laughed, whether in disbelief or relief of some sort Jackie was unsure. The sound surprised her — Shauna hadn’t laughed in what must have been months. Jackie couldn’t help but smile as Shauna breathed her name. 

“Is it really you?” Shauna sounded hopeful. She looked from Jackie’s body to her ghost, dazed. Jackie didn’t know what to say so she nodded simply. “God, Jax. I knew it…” Shauna beamed at the blonde. She reached out wanting to touch Jackie. Her Jackie had come back for her. 

Jackie felt overwhelmed. This is what she had wanted, what she had needed for so long and yet she was suddenly afraid. What if visiting Shauna ruined her, pulled her further away from the rest of the team that needed Shauna just as much as Jackie did. Maybe she had been selfish taking the girls’ butcher from them. Still, she felt terribly euphoric to see the way Shauna had become suddenly animated, almost giddy upon seeing her. It was the first time she looked alive since Jackie had died. 

Jackie moved tentatively closer to Shauna, fighting the urge to sit down next to her and take her raw, chapped hand. She wanted to talk to her, really talk. A part of her wanted to yell at Shauna, get all that she’d felt when she’d awoken outside of her body out. Another part wanted to touch her in the way she had always longed to — she felt strangely hungry. 

Shauna’s hand was still extended and Jackie reached out to take it. Before she could though, a yell could be heard from outside. Someone was yelling Shauna’s name — the voice got louder as whoever it belonged to got closer to the shed. It sounded like Tai but Jackie couldn’t be sure. Her stomach twisted. 

“Shauna.” Tai sounded exasperated as she pulled open the wooden door. Shauna’s smile immediately vanished and she looked pleadingly at Jackie. She couldn’t leave her so soon, she just couldn’t. Tai looked right through Jackie which hurt even more than she had expected it to. It was as if she had been shocked right back to reality. This was a bad idea. Visiting Shauna would only make Shauna worse. She would continue to cling to Jackie, neglect her own health and the girls around her for Jackie, possibly until it killed her. Jackie could not stand the idea of Shauna dying because of her. She took a step back towards the shadowy corner she had hid in for hours. She had to go, now. It would be painful but she had to let Shauna go — Shauna needed to let go of her. 

Jackie turned her back on Shauna and fled without looking back once. She could hear Tai’s footsteps moving closer to Shauna but she couldn’t make out her words — her mind was swimming with overwhelming thoughts of her own. She imagined how broken Shauna must have looked picturing the way her face must have crumpled as she burst into loud sobs once more. Jackie told herself she would never go back. It was for the best. She could not let the girl she had loved, did love, ruin herself over her. 

She tried to stay away. She really really did. But that was not the last time she found herself in what had become her and Shauna’s shed.

[agentplutonium]

I'm doing a wip Wednesday to keep my motivated for this wips I'm working on because I'm finally on break and theoretically have the time SO up today we actually have two wips:

An update on my Imp!Milo fic I have in my wips (Imp!Milo loses Sweetheart and becomes unrecognizable)

An update on my 1920's Milo/Sweetheart fic I have going on

All below the cut <3

Imp!Milo

Milo’s vision tunnuled. “Where are you?” “West corridor, they have me surrounded, I’m still cloaked so I don’t think they know where I am, but-” The line crackled, then went dead, and Milo looked back at Asher, who was frozen a few feet behind him. “Sweetheart?” Milo asked. Silence. Milo could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his years, and he tried again. “Sweetheart?” The line came alive again, and Milo’s blood ran cold at what he heard. “Don’t you fucking touch him, do you hear me?! I swear to god if you touch a damn hair on his head-!” Sweetheart’s scream was cut off. There was a humourless laugh, deep and dark, that filtered across the walkie. “Looks like we found your little ghostie,” a voice said, the same person who was laughing. “Say goodbye little ghostie.” “Milo don’t fall for it, I’m fine,” Sweetheart tried to reassure him. “I’ll be fine, stay there, promise me that yo-” There was a sickening crack, and the sound of Sweetheart slumping to the floor. Milo didn’t wait any longer, dropping the walkie and taking off at full speed. Asher called after him, but Milo could barely hear it over the rush in his ears. He was shifted into his wolf form in no time. Milo, don’t be rash, Asher’s voice in his head. Again, Milo didn’t listen. He could only repeat Sweetheart’s name in tune with his heart as he raced forward.  Milo, Asher repeated, you need to think this through. Milo growled. Tell me what to do again and I rip you to shreds. My mate is in trouble. Either help me or get lost. Asher didn’t respond, but Milo did hear his pace pick up. Asher pulled up beside him, facing forward. Milo could tell by his stance he’s decided to help him. Whether to keep him from killing himself or because Asher doesn’t want to lose Sweetheart, Milo doesn’t care

2. 1920's Milo/Sweetheart

Sneaks couldn’t focus on anything that weekend, no matter how hard they tried. They had errands to run and were making stupid mistakes the whole time. They meant to get ahead on some of the cases that they had but never could get their mind to focus on what was in front of them. Their last interaction with Milo and his friends played on a loop in their head. “Aww, cheer up, Greer. You know we’re only teasing.” “Greer?” Milo had looked so defensive when they caught on, worry deep in those eyes of his. Sneaks would be too if they were in his shoes. But, this was more than just knowing his father. This was about the fact that Sneaks knew where they heard that name before. There is an ongoing case against Shaw Security. There are plenty of reports of their misconduct, but they were never able to get the suckers. Every investigation led to dead ends where they would have to let the pack member go. Sneaks was kicking themself for not realizing it sooner. David was the Alpha’s son, and Asher was a Talbolt, another family they had been having trouble with. The pieces were there, and they still didn’t put it together. It was almost like they knew, but didn’t want to admit it to themselves. On Monday, they still went through the files, just to make sure. They scoured every offence connected to that pack, heart sinking the more that Milo’s name came up. He was never properly convicted and never had any jail time outside of arrests, but Sneaks couldn’t believe what they were seeing. There were accusations of murder on the papers in front of them. They sighed, rubbing their hands down their face, leaning against the table. Sneaks almost didn’t want to believe it. Milo was just so… there was no way he did what he was accused of, right?

[willshipanything-blog]

Breaking the Rules- Chapter 2

I averaged a chapter a week with the last fic, so we shall see if I keep pace here!

Setting up some actual story this chapter, with just a *taste* of some spice. More of both to come!

Chapter 1 here (will make a chapter index eventually)

Or fic on AO3 here. More detailed tags there also, but MINORS DNI!

Chapter 2- The White Phone

The cold rings against your hot flesh made your body tremble. Deft hands circled your bud, your abdomen shivering with the growing heat behind it. Al had leaned your body into his on the sofa, affording you a clear view of the obscenities he was plying on your needful body, right between your twitching thighs. You bit your bottom lip, barely stifling the whines that had begun to build in your throat. Al hummed low and velvety into your throat, the vibrations bringing your arousal even closer, before beginning with his own mouth: licking your neck in movements that imitated the way his hand rubbed your clit, biting as his fingers pinched. The sensations from above and below met somewhere in the middle, stoking the fire that had already lit deep in your belly. Al’s hand crept downwards, one finger, then two, then a third, sliding slowly, teasingly inside. 

“You gonna lend me a hand, naughty girl?” Even in the clammy air, that gravelly voice sent a chill to your bones. A grip on your wrist; he guided your hand to your heat, urging you to touch as he pumped inside you. Your breath caught in your throat, throwing out a high-pitched whimper at the magic both of you were summoning together. His carnal growl and hot breath in your ear added to the arousal, and his words filled you with that thrill that flowed through your body like a bolt of static shock. 

Another moan was elicited as his other hand moved to knead your breast, pinching your hard nipple beneath your shirt. Goosebumps erupted on every inch of skin and more breathy moans escaped you as your release grew closer, closer, until- 

BRRIIIIIINNG!!

The shrill metallic sound of the white phone shattered the moment completely, the endless trill pulling you both away from your salacious little game. The pair of you stopped; you with a frustrated sigh, and a low growl ripping from Al’s throat at the intrusion. You felt Al’s hand tense inside you, sliding out slowly. You both knew the grating sound of the telephone would carry on indefinitely, so Al shuffled out from beneath you with a huff. 

BRRIIIIIINNG!!

“Stay right there, dove,” he said in a low rasp, eyeing you like a hawk watching the prey it’s about to devour, “I’ll be right back to finish what we started.” 

BRRIIIIIINNG!!

You stayed sprawled on the sofa, blood rushing from your core up to your cheeks as Al left you with a wink before stomping over to the phone, still ringing incessantly before he lifted it from its cradle. You felt unfulfilled, having been so close to that familiar pleasure, but you could hardly continue- it just felt too weird when Al was likely speaking to his brother. Max usually phoned every couple weeks, just to check in with his big brother. Al never took the initiative to ring- though you knew as well as anyone how difficult it was for him to be fully open with others. Still, he’d always be thorough in making sure Max was clean (which, for the past half dozen phone calls, had been assured). 

You picked up your book from where you’d dropped it moments earlier, when you’d disposed of it as Al’s hands had begun their exploration over your skin. Re-opening the dog-eared page you had folded down of The Great Gatsby, you’d barely made it through a paragraph before the familiar beats of the Shaws’ conversation ceased: Al had visibly frozen, quietly voicing a sentence that had you gaping up at him, wide-mouthed and frozen like a fish at a market:

“I’m not sure now’s a good time to come and stay here…” Al’s voice trailed off, clearly being interrupted on the other end of the phone. Your mouth curled into a smile at the corners. In two leaps you had traversed the living room and were practically hanging on Al’s arm. He looked down to see your face pleading up at him, giving him your best upturned brow and puppy dog eyes, mouthing ‘pleeeease’ as you swung on his arm. Clear from Al’s stuttering, jagged speech, Max seemed to be doing the same as you on the other end of the phone. Al stumbled over his words a little more, wrestling you on one side and trying to hold the conversation on the other before relenting.

“Fine! Sure!” Al huffed in frustration, conceding defeat ungraciously. You hopped off him, looking smug at the victory you (with Max’s help, no less!) had just won. It was worth that dark edge Al’s eyes held as he stared at you, that hint of a smile on one corner of his mouth suggesting all manner of reparations you’d be paying later. It was worth ten rounds of Naughty Girl, you thought, smiling wickedly right back. 

Al peeled his eyes away from you, taking the call into the next room, the coiled cord of the telephone stretching through to the kitchen in a wave. You lingered around the partition between the two rooms, trying to glean snippets of information about this sudden change in circumstances whilst thinking about what this visit might bring. You were finally going to meet Max in the flesh. The grinning boy from the photograph was going to materialize for real!

Al’s past. It was something you knew decidedly little about, with Al so reluctant to speak about it in any great detail. Not all of it was good, you’d discovered, based on the scraps that you’d been privy to- but surely Max could help tease out some of the better moments that were undoubtedly there? Al was a man of so few words, but from previous overheard conversations between him and his brother, it was clear Max was a talker. Al’s frequent exhaling breaths and pained expressions, as well as saying barely a dozen words in ten minutes all but told you that Max loved to talk. This was perfect. 

Bursting with a renewed energy (excited in equal measure about meeting Max and digging into the enigma that was Albert Shaw), you hovered by the partition frame, still eavesdropping without shame, seemingly unnoticed by Al, whose back was turned towards you. 

“When-” another interruption before Al hissed “Tomorrow?! Jesus…yeah, after 6? Alright”. A pregnant pause; Al inhaled deeply to form his next words. 

“Listen, when you get here- I won’t be alone. Yeah, she is.” You noticed Al was now clutching the receiver with both hands. What you were unsure of was why he seemed so suddenly hesitant, the crack in his voice revealing a nervousness you felt was misplaced. Wasn’t he looking forward to his brother meeting his… well, you still hadn’t really defined what you and Al were exactly. A “normal” label seemed ill-fitting somehow, and it wasn’t like you were publicly announcing your relationship to anyone. Even Al seemed to be fumbling over the correct term in the conversation. 

You thought you discerned a slight twinge in your chest, and you cringed inwardly- did you want a solid definition of the thing you and Al had forged? Did it seem somehow detached from reality, intangible, because of how it had come into being? You convinced yourself that you and he were detached from reality (in so, so many ways), and maybe you couldn’t feel too hurt by the inability to put a name on this- this thing you shared. Instead, you allowed your building excitement to overshadow that uneasy thought, focusing again on Al’s hushed tones. 

“Ok. Ok, cool it, huh Max? It’s no big deal,” It seemed you weren’t the only party excited for tomorrow. “Yeah. And you’re still clean? Right. See ya, Max.”

You’d scurried back over to the sofa while Al was hanging up the phone, hoping to pick up where you’d left the game before the interruption. But Al shuffled back into the living room looking resigned. You read the worry lines on his brow, noted the cloudiness that had fogged over the dark shine of his eyes. He dumped the phone back on the side table where it resided, and it gave a short staccato smack as if hitting the table in frustration. Sitting up on your elbows, you ventured to ask what had clearly bothered Al about the phone call. It had all seemed so positive, so affirming.

“Is there something wrong with Max coming over?” you asked on a worried breath. By the time the question left you, Al was standing over you, looking increasingly distressed. 

“Nothing wrong on his end, dove,” he said softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ears and looking down at you with solemnity swimming in those blue eyes. A loving gesture to offset some approaching unpleasantness. “There’s just one problem.”

“What is it?” you asked, oblivious to his meaning. He paused briefly, obviously not wanting to be the bearer of bad news. 

“You’re you.”

Your head tilted at a slight angle, trying to decipher what Al meant by that. Oh. The realization crashed down, your chest caving inwards like Al had dropped heavy weight on you from above. How stupid you’d been-blinded by the excitement of the phone call- to not see the elephant in the room. You were a Missing Person. Presumed Dead. Your face had been plastered on street lamps and store windows, broadcast on state news, likely for weeks, maybe months- just the same as the victims of The Grabber. Make that two elephants- you: a cold case of the Denver PD, and Al: an actual murderer. As if the reminder of Al’s crimes wasn’t enough to send a tang of bile rising up your throat, another problem presented itself. If Max pieced together who you were, the second (infinitely worse) discovery might not be far behind.

You wouldn’t be Al’s little secret anymore- but your whole relationship worked on the premise that you were. Aside from surreptitious strolls near dawn, or covert walks under the cover of darkness that you and Al indulged in occasionally, you didn’t leave. You weren’t seen. Would this complicate the carefully constructed dynamic? 

“Hey, dove, it’s ok,” Al said reassuringly. He must have seen the panic begin to rise, your body beginning to tremble. Preemptively trying to calm your taut nerves, he pulled you to a sit and rubbed your upper arms in a soothing gesture to calm the trembling you weren’t aware your body was encountering. When that didn’t alleviate the tremors he pulled you tightly into his chest, his arms all-enveloping around your quivering body, your head cradled in his broad chest. His warmth, his solidness and his smell (a comforting tincture of spruce, cigarette smoke and a hint of citrus) helped. Al always knew the right ways to soothe you, whether with a touch, a word or gesture. He was your antidote. 

“I can ring him back, tell him it’s not gonna work-”

“No.” you interjected, strengthened by Al’s actions and spurred on by the compulsion to want him to be happy. Al did not need more failing relationships in his life. He was still lonely, even if he had you now. You were lonely too, at times. He needed a brother. You wanted a friend. And Al had promised for the longest time that you would meet Max someday. That someday would be tomorrow, you determined. “No,” you repeated, the gears in your head whirring furiously “I’ll think of something. We’ll make it work.” 

Simply thinking about your past, your disappearance, and the aftermath of it all felt like a knife pierced in your chest; rearranging facts and recreating a new version of those events felt unfathomably worse, as if someone had twisted the blade inside you just for spite. For his part, Al didn’t make too many suggestions, not wanting to erase your history- just allowing you to muddle through the process of creating that parallel reality yourself. Which somehow seemed worse- if he’d given you a script, laid out some character background and plot of how it might have occurred, you’d have more easily gone along with the lie. Playing a role, not unlike when you adopted the role of Naughty Girl during those lecherous romps with Al, a fun little ruse. This was the furthest thing from fun. It wasn’t the same kind of complicity that came from keeping Al’s sins under lock and key in your mind. Here, you were actively erasing and vilifying all the wrong people and things to fit the narrative you needed. It felt fucking awful. 

But, you needed a new truth. Max might all too easily recognize you, and perhaps even piece together the abject horrors that lay beneath the surface of your relationship with Al. You’d carved a new reality every day since the first moment you woke on that mattress, sacrificing your old world to live happily in a new one. Manufacturing one more deception should have been a simple extension of that. But you found yourself grieving over things you thought were long since buried, crying over the exhumation and cover-up you’d created. 

It was going to be a simple and vague fabrication, explained once to Max then explicitly would never be up for discussion. Ever. Al assured you he would make those terms crystal clear to his brother, who had a knack for prying where he shouldn’t, a fact that didn’t make you feel one bit better. You were a runaway, tired of the abuses of your shitty boyfriend, unable to return to a family that treated you no better when you were younger.  Nowhere to go until, by a stroke of serendipity, you ran into Al. It was kismet. The rest was history, et cetera et cetera. So saccharine Max would happily believe this romanticized (albeit wildly inaccurate) version of events. 

You’d mourned those losses, and had made a fresh start. You’d had a sense of closure all those months ago when Al had informed you how, in their own ways, your family, your friends had moved on. This felt like reopening an old wound and marring it with dirt, creating a pus-filled, hideous infection, instead of letting it heal properly. It was like grieving again, but a more hurtful type of grief. A false narrative; but then, didn’t everything with Al seem a sort of alternate reality, where wrong was right, pain was pleasure, and the worst sins were swept under the shag carpet? 

The- how would you define it- distortion? Desecration? No, it was so unrecognizable as to be the extermination of the truth, and it was sickening. You had forgiven Al for the awful things inflicted on you, you truly had- but to present him as a protector and savior, and paint your loving family, your kind-hearted ex-boyfriend in such repulsive terms- had left you feeling empty, even more so after you’d vomited up everything you’d eaten that day. Your tears had a seeming endless supply within your body as you finished concocting the lie, leaving it to fester until it was time to be told. 

When all said and done, though, it was a necessary lie. Max could be in your life (and Al’s) if you told it, unlike your family and friends who no longer could. It was just another price to pay for living this existence, paid for with tears in this particular transaction. It was worth it. That mantra kept cropping up in your mind, each time a new difficulty or problem arose in the life you had molded with Al. You wondered: was there a limit on how heavy a price you could keep paying to be with him?

You weren’t sure how you had come to be in bed. Some sort of fugue state- or were you dissociating again? You doubted you had fallen asleep in such a frenzied state. You remembered sitting on the couch, talking over your idea with Al through tear-stained lashes and barely held-in bawls. Then suddenly, you were curled up on the bed, still breathing as if at any moment now a panic attack might overtake your overwrought body and mind. You felt the soothing silk of pajamas and wondered if Al had helped to dress you. By the crimson lamplight, you saw him perched by your side. He handed you a cup- tea, he said, for calm nerves and sleep. You drank without tasting, and Al rubbed your back in long, pacifying strokes, ocean waves lapping the ridges of your spine. 

Al knew pain was a part of the process, but after you endured he was always there to make you better. As it became harder and harder to keep your eyelids open, you thought of the familiar phrase that the two of you spoke on certain nights, one that had transformed from a sadistic taunt to one of aftercare. ‘The sooner they heal, the sooner I can inflict them again’. You remembered that only being used for physical scars, for welts and bruises painted on your skin during those games of pain and pleasure. When had that been the case for your emotional scarring? You guessed you didn’t mind taking some of the anguish away from Al, who was a more tormented soul than you might ever be. You’d suffer for his sins a little in the present, if it meant the future could be better. And he’d hold your hand through the pain- he was your salve, your antidote- always. Your hiccuped sobs abated, your bleary eyes closed, and a dreamless sleep fell heavy over you.

Al’s hands ghosted over her body as he tucked in his little dove. She didn’t stir, even as he lightly traced his finger down the line of her jaw to her chin, brushing his thumb tenderly along her plump lower lip. He was truly enamored- especially after the strength she had shown tonight. She had erased and rewritten her own history, sullying the memory of her old family. Looking down at her sleeping form, Al fingered the mark on her chest that he had cut into her skin, the permanent marks made by his knife that had scribed the word AL into her flesh, claiming her as his. And she’d given him that power, submitting to him entirely. His name carved into her delicate flesh was testament to that, as were her actions tonight, where she had made yet more sacrifices for him, because she loved him. He was going to do everything in his power to make sure those sacrifices weren’t for nothing. 

Al had stayed quiet during the creation of the new story, had allowed her to re-write her memories how she wanted (not that she had wanted to, but she had done so out of a sense of duty to Al). He had already taken things from her when he had snatched her off the sidewalk all those months ago. He didn’t want to inflict those pains a second time. Perhaps that was selfish, but he would rather soothe self-inflicted torments of his little thing than cause them of his own volition. 

At least she was sleeping peacefully now, thanks to the tea- and what he’d laced it with. Just a few pills to ensure a night of contended, uninterrupted sleep. He had been honest when he said it would calm her nerves. And the lie that it was “just tea��� felt infinitesimal compared to other things that she didn’t know about him, things he was determined to keep hidden, even from her. 

She’d feel better in the morning- she’d cried all her tears (which even Al’s caresses had struggled laboriously to quell) and a new day would feel like a renewal. He wasn’t proud that he’d drugged her, though she’d have likely agreed to such a remedy after a stressful night- she’d looked so adrift and disoriented after hours of emotional and mental turmoil. But it served an ulterior purpose for her to be unconscious and unknowing at the preparations Al needed to make. He needed time alone for his next task.

Max’s visit could cause…complications. Al’s brother wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, but what he lacked in mental prowess he more than made up for in his talkative and inquisitive nature- two characteristics that Al loved him for, but which might be dangerous given the circumstances. Al would have to warn Max about running his mouth- whether it was asking too many personal questions to Y/N that might break his little dove, or whether about himself and Al, all the stuff he might remember from the years spent in this very house as a kid.  

As for Max’s curiosity, Al needed to ensure no traces of his sins could be found, no evidence of the Grabber or his crimes. He thought about the masks in his bedroom closet, used only during the Game these days. Max wouldn’t snoop in here, and besides, Y/N would be in the house. That part of their relationship was her lewd little secret too now. Leaving the bedroom where his little love’s slow, even breaths floated in the crimson glow, he headed to the guest room, where his brother would be staying for the foreseeable. The built-in closet in this room had a hidden panel, behind a false grate in the bottom corner. One of those discoveries that kids made (kids like Max, anyway), and one which had been used to hide candy, then cigarettes, then later dirty magazines. Albert and Max’s little secret- this had been their shared room, after all. Al smiled fondly at the memory, at the contraband they used to successfully sneak past their father. The memory soured when Al remembered the events following on from its discovery. 

Shifting aside those thoughts as he shifted the false front of the grate, Al pulled out a simple wooden box, about the size of a cigar case. He ran his now-trembling fingers along the rim, opening the small clip at the front, shuddering when he forced himself to look at its contents. No, he couldn’t risk Max finding this. It couldn’t stay here, not with his dove and Max occupying every room. The risk of discovery would be too great. Somewhere else then, he thought with dread. A different house.

[otonymous]

A Bolt From The Blue (MLQC Shaw - NSFW) - Part III: Near & Far

Description: Promising beginnings and a premature end throw you into a tailspin Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language & mature themes — reader discretion is advised.  Potential trigger warnings: depictions of mild PTSD symptoms, mentions of death of a close family member, disappearances, “breakups,” angst, profanity Word Count: 1882 words (~9 mins of falling in love and wallowing in angst 😱😂) Author’s Notes: If you’re still following this story, please accept a giant (virtual) hug from me to you!  Thank you very much from the bottom of my heart for supporting me and this piece of work! 💖 Without further ado, I present to you part 3 of my slow-burn Shaw fic, written for the lovely @op-peccatori​ as part of my follower milestone celebration.

As always, dear reader, please note the potential trigger warnings listed above, and happy reading! 😊

Jump to Chapter(s): One | Two | Four

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“You can relax, you know.  I won’t try anything funny while you sleep, not my style.  Besides, isn’t this much better than camping out on the floor?”

Nodding your head before you realize that Shaw probably couldn’t see you in the dark, your “Yes” comes out in a mewl so pathetic you wished you could immediately take it back.

His snicker shakes the bed, reverberating across squeaky springs to where you lay beside him, right at the edge of the twin mattress as you tried not to let your hands touch.

No matter how much you wished for them to.

Beyond the window, a neon signboard paints electric shadows on your walls in splashes of pink, flashing in time to a rhythm Shaw tapped out with one foot beneath the covers.

“Is it cool if…if we didn’t draw the blinds tonight?  I can’t sleep in complete darkness.” He had asked you earlier that evening, towelling off his hair as he emerged from your bathroom wearing a shirt your ex had left behind along with your broken heart a year and a half ago.

Snoopy looked much better riding his skateboard across Shaw’s broad chest anyways.

And there, in the midst of an awkward arrangement where sleep would surely prove fleeting, the sounds of the night: the low hum of the refrigerator, the pawn shop’s sign buzzing just on the other side of the windowpane…the tick-tock of the clock on the wall, steady like Shaw’s breath beside you as it counts down precious time—

“I’ll be out of your hair first thing tomorrow morning.”  

Ba-bump.

“No, there’s…there’s no rush.  Honestly.”

“Can you really afford to miss more work because of me?”

Silence.  You couldn’t refute the truth.

“Tell you what, in exchange for putting up with me, you can ask me anything you want.  I’ve seen the way you look at me sometimes; surely you must be curious about some things.  Might as well find out before I go.”

Your stomach knotted, clenching tight.  He was right.  For all you know, it was now or never.  “Why did you join?  The triad, that is.”

He is silent for a moment, as if trying to find the right words to piece together.

“I’m looking for my brother.”

Out of all possible answers, this wasn’t one you were expecting.  Turning onto your side, you study the handsome profile of his face — watching as pink mixed with lavender in the most ethereal way until you were overcome with the sense that in this vast ocean of life, you and him stood on very different shores.  Eyes still fixed on your ceiling, Shaw continues.

“He was an undercover cop, working to infiltrate the ranks of the group I’m currently a part of.  I only found out by accident, and he made me swear up and down not to breathe a word of it to mom.  Then one day…he was gone.  Just...disappeared off the face of the earth.  Mom and I went down to the station every day for months, knew the names and faces of everyone who worked in that building, but it was like Gavin never even existed.

“It was too much for her.  I came home late from school one day — found her on the floor, barely breathing.  It was dark in the apartment…so dark.  She had probably just drawn the curtains.  By the time the paramedics arrived, she was already gone.  Heart attack, they said.  

“I lie awake at night sometimes, wonder how I’m going to tell him that mom’s no longer here — go through the motions in my head, rehearsing every line.  ‘Cus I know that sooner or later, that day will come.  There’s no way he’s dead.  I know my brother.”

A glimmer at the corner of his eye catches yours.  Beneath the covers, your fingers inch towards his, finding courage in the darkness to brush against his pinky as if the sliver of warmth could express what words simply couldn’t convey.

“With mom gone, there was nothing to lose.  I joined the group, worked hard…did what they needed me to do to gain their trust, all while collecting scraps of info here and there — whatever I could get my hands on in the hopes that it’ll lead me to Gav.”

Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.

Tiny drops of rain speckle your windowpane.  And when Shaw’s finger hooks around yours as if in a solemn pinky swear, the tears burning your eyes finally fall.  You don’t ask him how many years it’s been, the dirty deeds he’s had to sully his hands with.  You don’t question him about the father he doesn’t mention.  All you can do is watch as a solitary drop rolls down the side of his face before soaking into lavender strands fanned out on the pillow, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows back bitterness only he knew.

In spite of it all, he is the one who chuckles when he turns towards you, eyes red rimmed even as his brows rise in feigned exasperation when he says, “Why are you crying?!  I’m the one with the tragic past here!”

And when you start to cry even harder, his soft hushes of “Shh, shh…I’m sorry, that last part was a joke.  It’s all right, everything will be okay, I promise,” burrows deep into your heart and you believe him.

Because when he reaches towards you — the thumb wiping the tears from your eyes calloused yet gentle — you are struck by a sense of overwhelming tenderness:

In the carefulness of his touch.

In the way he regards you with the sincerity of some unspoken emotion.

In the entirety of this man whom the rest of the world has already written off.

And that is when you know…

“I didn’t mean to make you cry by telling you all this, I’m sorry.”

…that you are in love with him.

“I’ll make it up to you.  Ask me another question.  Maybe something less depressing this time.”  

A smile spreads across his face.  You wished there was a way for you to keep the warmth of his hand on your cheek forever.  Sniffling, you try again.

“Wh-why did you keep coming in to my store everyday?  There’s a lot of other convenience stores in the area—”

A flash of panic in those amber eyes, and Shaw is turning over with lightning speed until all you can see is the smooth expanse of his back.

“Changed my mind.  A guy’s gotta keep some secrets!  Goodnight!”

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

Wrap your arms around the pillow.

“Good girls shouldn’t concern themselves with bad boys.”

Bury your face into its cushiony fill.

“Or have you forgotten that I’m wanted by the police?”

And inhale deeply.

Shaw’s scent on your sheets is faint now, so much so that you can’t be entirely sure you’re not imagining it, having gone through this ritual countless times since the day Shaw left your apartment…

…and stepped out of your life.

                   *                                         *                                          *

“Is there…any way I could stay in touch with you?  I-I just…just want to make sure you’re okay…”

Voice trailing off, you watch as Shaw gingerly shrugs one arm then another through the sleeves of his leather jacket, still wearing the Snoopy t-shirt he had slept in the night before after you told him he could keep it.  His own was torn beyond repair, stubbornly dyed in blood regardless of how much you scrubbed at it.  And when he hesitated still, you said he would just be doing you the favour of taking out the trash.  

Smoothing down the front of his jacket, Shaw glances at the phone in your hands — eyes tracing along your eager fingers, poised to type.  The expression on his face is unreadable, as if the man you had spent the night sharing secrets with was nothing more than a figment of your imagination.

“It’s better if we don’t.  I’ll be fine, just laying low for the next while — boss’s orders.  And I don’t want the cops coming around to your place again.  Detective Whatshisname looks like he could be really good at hounding pretty girls like you.”

That smirk again, so familiar to you by now.  And in the compliment that would’ve made you blush bright red before, nothing but a smokescreen.

“Shaw, I don’t mind—”

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you?" The force in his voice cuts, and you barely breathe to feel his finger curl beneath your chin, tilting up your face until you have no choice but to meet his gaze.  Those eyes are dull, like molten gold frozen beneath a layer of impenetrable ice.  “Good girls shouldn’t concern themselves with bad boys.  Or have you forgotten that I’m wanted by the police?”

The shiver that runs electric down your spine makes the hairs on your skin stand on end.  It was like looking at a stranger.  Heart racing, your palms grow clammy with sweat, unsure of exactly when your phone had dropped from your hands, slipping away like…

“I don’t care about the cops!  I’ll deal with them—”

“DEAL WITH WHAT?!  You think that just because you managed to turn them away at the door that it makes you a hardened criminal?!  WE are not the same, okay?  My life is worthless.  I’ve already signed it away a long time ago, I’m ready to give it up without a second thought.  But you…you’re different. Y-you’re kind, innocent.  You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.  One day, you’ll make someone the luckiest person in the world, be a beautiful mother to beautiful children.  Don’t sell yourself short…not for someone like me.”

The silence that descends is thick, suffocating.  You don’t speak, afraid to open your mouth because it takes all your concentration just to keep the tears from spilling from your eyes.

Finally letting go of your chin, Shaw reaches behind his neck to undo the clasp on the thin gold chain he wore, the jade disc pendant that hung from it still warm from the heat of his skin when he places it in the palm of your hand.

“It’s not much, but it was a gift from my mom and the most valuable thing I own.  You saved my life, so it’s yours now.  Maybe…maybe one day, you can give it to your own child.”

Lump in your throat, you can barely breathe, let alone tell him there was no way you could accept something that precious, something that priceless.  That you didn’t drag him home that night, broken and bleeding, in the hopes of gain; not for money, not for love.

He curls your fingers around the heirloom, gentle thumb pressing on index, middle, ring then pinky in turn before your fist finds itself held tightly within the press of his much larger hand for one…two…three seconds…

…before those purple Chuck Taylors take him to your door…

Slam.

…and just like that, the man with the lavender hair is gone.

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Forgive me for trolling, but there really was only one bed LOL!  Hope you all enjoyed the latest chapter, and please stay tuned for what may be the final instalment in this Shaw saga! - XOXO

Jump to Chapter(s): One | Two | Four

Thanks so much for reading! 💕 Check out more of my work here! 📚(Please do not repost/copy/alter my work.  Reblogs, on the other hand, are a-ok and much appreciated! 👍🏼💖)

[slytherinbarnes]

Sub Rosa [83]

xii. adjustment protocol

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: language, violence, fighting, death.

Summary: The plan to save your friends begins, but nothing goes according to plan.

a/n: i’m having a really bad anxiety day so i’m probably gonna post this and then avoid the internet. i love you all so much, i hope you enjoy. the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

As soon as Layla frees all of you and Nelson returns with the remaining Children of Gabriel, Gabriel finishes the device that he intends to deploy in the pond. He explains the plan to everyone, making sure you all understand what’s going on. Nelson arms all of you, giving Bellamy and Gabriel a rifle, you a pistol, and Octavia a sword. You also make a new thigh holster for your knife, and Bellamy rigs one up for his small skull knife that you gifted him, and all of you change into some of the Children of Gabriel clothes so you’ll blend in better. Within a couple of hours, you are all ready to go and begin your ambush on Sanctum.

You trek through the woods towards Sanctum mostly in silence, with you, Bellamy, and Octavia in the lead. Something about the trip reminds you of searching for Clarke after the Battle of the Dropship, before Finn lost his mind. You hope that this moment is different though, and doesn't end with the slaughter of innocent people in a village, though you guess that only time will tell. 

Before you know it, you can hear the quiet hum of the radiation shield up ahead, all of you disappointed to see that the shield is still up and running. You come to a stop right at the edge of the woods, staring at the shield, and behind you, Layla asks, “What do we do now?”

You turn and face her, but your gaze looks over all of them. “Now we wait. Clarke will get it down.”

They all nod, and you turn and stare back at the shield, thinking about how easy it would be for you to walk right through, find your twin, and keep her safe. You step away from the others, into the light bouncing off the planet that Sanctum orbits, listening to the buzz of the shield that quietly taunts you. You hear Gabriel tell everyone to get down and stay out of sight, but you stand frozen in place, the muscles in your legs twitching with the desire to follow your impulse and run into Sanctum. You almost jump out of your skin when you feel a hand clamp down on your shoulder, and you glance over to see Bellamy looking at you, worry etched into his face. “I should be in there helping her.”

On your other side, a hand slides into your own, and you turn to see Octavia looking at you, her hand squeezing yours in comfort. “They know what you look like, and you being there would just give Clarke away.”

Bellamy grabs your other hand, the two Blake siblings keeping you anchored, bringing you back to the side of reason. “Besides, that’s not the plan.”

Your voice is quiet, so low that the siblings both lean closer to hear you over the sound of the shield. “We left them.”

“And that's why they're still alive.”

You turn to Octavia, shaking your head. “You don't know that. You heard Murphy, they’re all in trouble.”

“They’ll be okay.”

Beside you, Bellamy speaks up, sounding just as haunted by the thought that everyone you love is on the other side of that shield and in harm's way. “Everybody always thinks that. The truth is, you're fine until you're not.”

“Murphy said he’d help.”

You and Bellamy both turn to Octavia, giving her matching skeptical looks, both of you thinking of all the ways Murphy has ‘helped’, but only made things worse. “Real comforting.”

“Have some faith.” She smiles and gives your hand a squeeze before dropping it and stepping back, slinking into the bushes to join the others. You look at Bellamy, his eyes already on you, and he smiles, “That look is gone from your face.”

“What look?”

“The ‘I’m about to take off running and do something really stupid’ look.”

You roll your eyes, “It’s gone. For now.”

He smiles at your vague threat before he backs away, towards the bushes, pulling you back with him. You follow, the two of you sinking into the brush with the other Children of Gabriel, hiding out and waiting for the shield to go down.

-

It turns out that the idea you all seem to have about the shield going down in a couple of hours was wrong. 

Instead, you all watch the suns rise in the sky and hang overhead, beating down on all of you as you hide in the bushes. You watch at least two guard changes, dozing slightly between them, nothing new happening for a while. It’s only in late afternoon when something changes. 

You all sit up a little straighter when you hear the sound of an approaching motorcycle, signaling a third guard change, and you watch closely as the guard hops off the bike and tugs off his helmet to speak to the other guard. “Sector D is all clear. You're free to head back to Sanctum with the Primes.”

“I thought I was gonna miss the namings.”

Tension washes over all of you in the group, and you’re almost surprised the guards can't feel the shift in the air, given your close proximity to them. You glance at Bellamy, both of you silently repeating the most alarming part of that sentence in your head. Namings. The guard passes another piece of information to the other before he hops on his own bike and drives off, and Nelson’s voice is horrified when he whispers, “Naming Day?” 

Layla bites back, “They said ‘namings’. Plural.”

Before any of you can get in another word, Gabriel stands from his place behind Octavia, stepping out of the bushes, ignoring her concerned whisper of his name. “Gabriel?”

Gabriel heads straight for the shield and passes through it, crying out in pain and dropping to the ground twitching, pretending that the shield is actually causing him damage. The guard mutters something under his breath that you can’t hear, and then he walks closer to Gabriel, gun slightly raised. As soon as he’s close enough, Gabriel swings a leg out and knocks the man on his back, and you and the Blake siblings all rise, looking at him in shock. “Gabriel, what the hell are you doing?”

You can see the guard’s eyes go wide with shock as he looks up at the feared man. “Gabriel?”

But Gabriel ignores him and glares at him, “You said ‘namings’. How many? Who's coming back?”

“I don't know. All of them, I think.”

Gabriel kicks the man in the face, breaking his nose and knocking him out, and you all run to the edge of the shield, yelling out to him, “Gabriel!”

He starts to pull off his jacket, tossing it to the side as he gives all of you a slightly apologetic look. “I can't have Russell murder more innocent people.”

“I know it's hard but we have to stick to the plan!” Bellamy’s voice rises the longer Gabriel ignores him, trying to get through to him. “Clarke will get the shield down and we use the toxin as a distraction to save our people.”

“Yeah, well, I have a new plan: use our distraction to stop Naming Day.” He tugs the guard’s jacket off and pulls it on, looking at all of you. “Look, I'm sorry, but unlike you, I can't sacrifice the few to save the many.”

He turns and starts to walk towards the bike tucked in between the crops, and this time you don’t hesitate to run through the shield, heading straight for him. Unfortunately, you don't make it to him in time, and he jumps on the bike and leaves you standing in a cloud of dust, looking at his retreating figure as you yell, “Gabriel! Gabriel, come back!”

You stand frozen and watch until he disappears from sight, and then you still stand unmoving, trying to figure out how Gabriel’s change of plans affects the rest of you, how it affects Clarke. You hear Bellamy start to call out to you after a few minutes, but you still don’t turn around, trying to decide if you should just take off running towards Sanctum. Bellamy must sense your impulse to run again, because his voice gets increasingly more worried the longer you ignore him. “La lune, get back on this side of the shield! Please come back over here. We’ll figure this out, okay? Clarke will still get the shield down, and we’ll come in then, just come back.”

You shift a little, the muscles in your legs twitching again, and Bellamy yells, “Natshana! If you leave, I’m coming after you! I’m not a Nightblood, and you saw what happened to Shaw.”

You freeze, the movement in your legs stopping, your desire to keep Bellamy safe stronger than your desire to run. You turn slowly and walk back towards Bellamy and the others, your fiance’s face overcome with relief. He is standing as close to the shield as he can without getting harmed, and as soon as you pass through it, he pulls you into his arms, holding you tight, clearly worried you were about to go where he couldn't follow. You feel a rush of guilt and you hug him back, whispering, “I’m sorry. I just don't want to lose Clarke again.”

He pulls away and nods at you, smoothing back your hair and whispering, “You won’t. But we have no way to contact Clarke and tell her that things have changed. So for now, we do things the way we planned, and hope it all works out in the end.”

You nod and all of you sink back down into the bushes again, despite the fact that the guard you were hiding from is now knocked out, courtesy of Gabriel. Still, you wait, the hours passing slowly, the suns getting lower in the sky and the darkness spreading across Sanctum. You get antsier with each passing hour, and you make a silent plan in your head that once the planet in the sky reaches a certain position, you’re running and leaving the others behind.

Miraculously though, as your deadline rapidly approaches, the hum of the shields stops, and you see all of the towers of the shield dim from their light blue color before going completely dark, the shield now down and ready to be crossed. You turn to Bellamy with a smile and he smiles back. “Told you she’d get it down.”

“Pretty sure I was the one that told you.”

The Children of Gabriel all stare at the downed shield in shock, and then Nelson abruptly stands and lifts his weapon into the air before yelling, “Death to Primes!”

Everyone stands and lifts their weapons too, repeating, “Death to Primes!”

They take off running, and you, Bellamy, and Octavia all share a look before you jump up and follow, blending in with the crowd as you run towards Sanctum. As you grow closer, the chanting stops, everyone aware that stealth is the way to go, and you creep up the hill as quickly as you can, bent low in the hopes that no one will see you coming. As you round the last corner and the stairs come into view, you see a group of people standing there, Clarke at the front, alive and still in one piece. 

You jog over and the two of you share a hug, and when you pull away, your gaze shifts to the people beside her. On one side, Gaia and Miller stand, smiles on their faces, and Miller nods in greeting. You nod back before turning to Clarke’s other side, eyes landing on Echo, grinning at you, clearly happy to see you alive and well. The two of you exchange a hug, pulling away so she can hug Bellamy too, and as they separate, Clarke looks all of you over. “Look, I hate to cut the moment short, but Russell told the people that it was a false alarm. They're not evacuating, we have no distraction.”

Echo adds, “The rest of our friends are still in trouble, and we don't have the people to fight our way through.”

“We're not here to fight. We're here to liberate.”

Layla chimes in from beside you, “Bellamy's right, and the only weapon we need for that is truth.”

“They won't believe us just because we tell them the truth.”

You look to Echo, evident from the expression on her face that a plan is forming. “What are you thinking?”

“I'm thinking Ryker helped us start this, his mother will finish it.”

She motions to the hooded figure between Clarke and Gaia, the one that you’re just now noticing. Clarke reaches into her pocket and pulls out a mind drive, holding it out to you. “They think I'm Josephine, so it can't be me. Everyone is gathered just outside of the palace.”

“This is Ryker?” Clarke nods her head in confirmation, and you take the drive from her before turning to the others. “I’ll take Priya into the crowd and tell them the truth. She backs it up, and we go from there. The rest of you will sneak up into Sanctum and stay hidden until we see how this is going to go.”

Everyone nods, understanding their place, and Bellamy grabs your hand. “I’m going with you.”

You smile at him, hoping he was going to say that, not sure that you want to handle Priya on your own. “Okay, everyone move into position.”

They all break apart and head into Sanctum, Clarke giving you a lingering look as she goes, and you give her a reassuring smile in return. Once you and Bellamy are the only two left with Priya, you pull the hood off her head. “Did you get all that?”

She hesitates, and you hold up the mind drive for her to see. “You tell the people the truth, or Ryker dies forever. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good, let’s go.”

You and Bellamy each grab one of her arms, guiding her up the stairs of Sanctum as she tries to fight against the two of you, and once you reach the top of the stairs, you’re quickly noticed. One of the guards near the base of the stairs yells, “We've got movement on the far stairs!”

You see her lift her gun to peer through the scope, and the second she sees a Prime held between you and Bellamy she yells, “Priya Prime! Don't shoot!”

The crowd turns towards you, and you and Bellamy each lift the hand not held onto Priya in surrender as you shout to the gathered crowd, “The power is out, the shield is down, but we are not here to fight. We have something to tell you that will be hard to hear, but it's the truth. The Primes told you that we're your enemy, but they lied!”

The crowd starts to murmur and your turn to look at Bellamy, aware that he is always the best with speeches. He adds, “They lied about everything! They're not gods, they don't become one with their hosts. They kill them. They steal your bodies so they can live forever.”

The murmuring grows louder, the truth of the gods they worship shocking everyone. You nudge Priya, flashing the mind drive in your hand, “Tell them.”

She hesitates for a second, her eyes locked on the drive, and then she takes a breath to steady herself before backing you up. “It’s true! We're not divine. We survive because we have technology, but we need your bodies to do it. Delilah's not one with me. She's dead, killed so that I could return. It's all a lie.”

The crowd’s murmurs turn to yelling as their anger starts to grow, but you ignore it and hand Priya the mind drive, her part now done. Before the crowd can get unruly though, Russell walks out of the palace and up to the microphone, a small contraption in his hand. “I am disappointed in you, Priya. I'm disappointed in all of you. According to our adjustment protocol...”

As soon as you hear the words, you remember Gabriel's story to you and Clarke, and you look at Bellamy with panic, your voice quiet. “Believers killing non believers.”

“What?”

You don't get to answer him, because Russell’s voice rises to be heard above everything, “Non believers must be purified!”

He twists the device and throws it into the crowd, and you and Bellamy instantly duck as it goes off with a flash, a cloud of green toxin quickly shooting out into the middle of the crowd. The people erupt into screams of pain and paranoia, and you turn to Bellamy and say, “Red sun toxin, we need to get to the others.”

He nods and you form a human chain with him and Priya, Bellamy in the lead, you in the middle, and Priya in the back. Bellamy guides you and tugs you through the crowd that is already resorting to chaos, and in the midst of the scuffle, Priya’s grip is pulled from your own. You look back in alarm, catching only one glimpse of her before the crowd surrounds her, and there’s nothing you can do but watch her disappear. The crowd is already growing violent, and you and Bellamy are both still susceptible to the toxin until you get your dose of the antitoxin. Going back into the crowd while you’re undosed is not an ideal plan. 

You finally reach the others and Layla tosses you each an antitoxin, which you inhale quickly, thankful that you’re safe for now. All of you stand watching the growing chaos, the people already fighting and resorting to violence, and Layla turns to you with a concerned look. “Where the hell is Priya?”

“The crowd got between us.” You start to walk back towards it, ready to search for her now, but at least three sets of arms grab you and pull you back. “No, you can’t.”

“But-”

“No.'' Clarke's voice is firm, letting you know this is not negotiable, and you nod, letting her know you understand. Bellamy, Clarke, and Layla all drop their arms, satisfied that you’re staying put, and as you turn back to watch the crowd, you hear Miller shout, “Jax?”

You turn to him, his eyes locked on something in the distance. “Jax!”

You follow his gaze, watching as guards file Madi, Raven, and Jackson into the palace and out of sight. Clarke watches on in horror, her eyes welling up with tears, and Miller tries to run towards his boyfriend, prepared to risk his own life to save his boyfriend’s life. But Octavia stops him, holding him back, voice desperate. “You can't!”

He rips himself from her grip, looking at her with disgust. “I do not take orders from you anymore!”

Octavia looks at her brother for help, and he immediately jumps in, blocking Miller’s path. “Miller, she's right. You'll never make it past the guards.”

Clarke deadpans, “No, but I can.”

You turn to look at her, her gaze already locked on you, waiting for your approval, and this is something you know you have to give her. Madi’s life is at stake, and Clarke is the only person that can get in that room, no questions asked. You nod, letting her know you agree, and Gaia steps up beside her. “I'm going with you.”

“Gaia-” She cuts Clarke’s protest off, “They'll think I'm Josephine's guard. It's Madi, I'm going.”

Clarke nods, before turning to Miller. “Miller, stay here and protect the others.”

He looks at her, hesitant, clearly wanting to tag along with them, and your twin senses his turmoil and reassures him, “We’ll get Jackson back, trust me.”

He nods, and Clarke is about to ask all of you what you’re going to do, when Octavia’s shaky voice floats over to you. “Uh, guys? We've got a problem.”

When you turn to face her, you see that part of the crowd has now shifted, their gazes turning on you. They stalk over to you slowly, the glint of murder in their eyes, and you turn to your twin in alarm, pushing her away from you slightly, “Go!”

“Murderers! Kill the invaders!”

You try to ignore the approaching group and their bone chilling chants as Clarke grabs your hand, “What will you do?”

You shake your head, “Still working on that part, but there’s not enough time! Just go!”

She hesitates for another half second before she turns and runs off, Gaia with her, and Miller lifts his gun and points it at the approaching crowd that is closing in on all of you quickly. Bellamy pushes down the barrel of his gun, getting him to lower it. “Miller, weapons down. We don't want to kill them, okay?”

Miller lowers his gun, as you all draw closer together, facing in different directions so you can watch each other from all sides. As the angry crowd seems to grow even angrier, Layla watches them in alarm, “Well, they want to kill us.”

You turn to Bellamy, glancing at him quickly so you can also keep an eye on the crowd. “If we start fighting, it will turn into a bloodbath!”

“We need to take cover and wait it out.”

Over his shoulder, Echo seems to get an idea, and she calls out, “Follow me!”

None of you hesitate to follow her when she runs off, aware that you don’t have many options at this point. She leads you to a building that looks like a shipping container, one that locks from the inside, and you all file inside and pull the doors closed behind you, swinging the bar down to lock it. You back away from the door as the crowd starts to bang on it, trying to shrink away from the source of the chaos, but the banging starts up on all sides, sending a chill down your spine. Your entire group huddles in the center of the room, standing as close as you can, watching the door shake and move with the force of the people outside. But there’s nothing any of you can do, no way you can stop it, your only option now to sit back and hope for the best. Hope that you aren't just a bleeding fish in a circle of angry sharks or a rabbit caught in a trap, stalked by a hungry bear. 

You just have to hope that all of you aren't about to become martyrs in someone else's religion.

-

next chapter

[dontcare77ghj]

Diamond

Stucky x reader

Y/N L/N had been a part of the Avengers since it's conception. With her skills, she had been a valuable asset to the team. Y/N had been born a mutant. 

Her powers had developed when she was very young. Originally it was believed that she only possessed the skills of telepathy until she reached her adolescent years. It was then Y/N found out she also she could transform herself into an organic diamond state.

Y/N had trained very hard to gain control over her abilities and it was because of how hard she'd worked, she'd been noticed by Nick Fury.

Nick had been keeping an eye on her at Charles Xavier's suggestion and in 2012 he'd asked her to join the Avengers initiative.

It was in 2012 Y/N met the team, but primarily, it was 2012 when she met Steve and Bucky. 

The super soldiers. Captain America and the White Wolf.

Men who'd fought in the second world war saved millions of people and had been frozen in time.

It was 2013, when the two had caught up with most of what they missed, did they ask you out.

The three of you had been together for two years now. And life had settled. Sure the world still needed saving, but at least you had your boys now. 

"Tony that's disgusting." Bucky sighed, leaning back into the couch.

"I'm just asking a question." He defended himself. "No need to scream at me."

"You're lucky Y/n doesn't throw you across the room." Natasha laughed.

"I'm tempted to, Stark. It's too early for these questions." You groaned, pouring yourself a large coffee.

"It's a simple question. Can you have sex in diamond form?" Tony asked again.

"Can I throw him against the wall? Just once?" You begged Steve. 

"Let her do it, Steve," Bucky said as you sat next to him. 

"I'm recording," Clint said, holding up his phone.

"As much as I'm for you using your powers, you can't throw Tony into a wall," Steve told you, causing you and Bucky to groan.

"Spoilsport." You said, leaning into Bucky's side.

"Mail call," Wanda announced, entering with a handful of letters and Vision carrying some boxes. "Here, Y/N," Wanda said, passing you a letter.

"Thanks, Wand." You smiled, placing your cup down to take the letter. Opening the letter you felt your blood turn to ice. 

"Something wrong, doll?" Steve asked, regarding you in concern. 

"It's from the Brotherhood." You said, reading the letter carefully. 

"What like traveling pants?" Tony asked, opening his package.

"No, the Brotherhood is a mutant terrorist group." You told him. "They want to kill all humans."

"Oh, well that's not good," Tony said before yelping as Natasha hit the back of his head.

"There's a war coming." You swallowed harshly. "They plan to eradicate humans as well as any mutant, not on their side. They want me to fight with them."

"Is there an address?" Bucky asked, taking the envelope.

"Of course not." You scoffed, throwing the letter on the table. "Gods it's too early for this shit." You sighed, chugging the rest of your coffee.

"What are you going to do?" Natasha asked you.

"I'm going to make a call. Warn Logan and the rest of the X-Men, and I'm going to stay out of this." You told her. "Most mutants already think I picked a side when I chose to join the Avengers. I'm not exactly welcomed by most mutants with open arms." 

An hour later you were back in the room you shared with Steve and Bucky, letter in one hand, phone in the other.

"Logan, please just be careful." You begged, running a hand through your hair. "These guys aren't playing around."

"I promise I will take this seriously," Logan assured you. "As long as you take care of yourself."

"I will. Let me know if you guys need help." You said before hanging up.

"Doll, are you okay?" Bucky asked, sitting behind you.

"You're worried about the letter aren't you?" Steve followed up.

"Not so much the letter." You said, moving into your boy's arms. "Just, worried about what the Brotherhood's going to start. Mutants are already hated. You remember how hard they tried to arrest me after New York and I helped save the city. It's taken years but we're finally, for the most part, somewhat accepted. If they start a war, we could all have to go back into hiding. I don't want to go back into hiding."

"Doll, we promise, if the Brotherhood starts anything we won't let anyone come after you. We won't let anyone take you and we won't let you go into hiding." Steve said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"And if worst-case scenario, you have to go into hiding we'll be right with you," Bucky promised, squeezing your hand.

"I can't ask you to do that." You shook your head.

"You're not asking. And we're not taking no for an answer." Steve said.

"We're in this until the end of the line," Bucky told you, pressing a kiss to your neck.

"Until the end of the line." You repeated with a smile.

It had been three weeks since the first letter. In that period you had received twelve more letters, each increasing in threat. The first few were offers for you to join and as you continued to ignore them they were no longer offers.

They were threats. Threats to your friends, your family, your boys, and to yourself.

There was no way to track where these letters were coming from, and there was no way to find them.

"I'll be fine you two. And I won't be alone, Kitty's coming with me." You said to Steve and Bucky as you pulled on your heels.

"And we trust Kitty, we like Kitty, but are you both sure going out is a good idea?" Steve asked.

"It is the middle of the day, we're going to a restaurant and we're both powerful mutants. Nothing's going to happen." You assured him.

"We could trail you if you want. Keep our distance, keep you safe." Bucky offered.

"A thoughtful gesture, but it's a no from me." You said, kissing his cheek. "I've been cooped up in this tower for weeks, and I've had enough. I won't even be two blocks away." You laughed, sitting on the brunette's lap.

"Okay doll. We know we're being a little overbearing. We just worry." Steve said, putting his hand on your knee and squeezing it.

"You shouldn't worry so much, you're going to get wrinkles." You teased him, poking your index finger between his eyes.

"Yeah, you old man. You're going to start looking like a prune." Bucky teased the blonde.

"You're older than me." Steve pointed out.

"Well, I think you both look great." You said, kissing Bucky and then leaning over to kiss Steve.

"Are you sure you have to go out?" Bucky asked once you and Steve pulled apart.

"Yep." You said, jumping off his lap. "In fact, Kitty's on her way up now." You added, grabbing your bag.

Tease, Bucky thought.

"I heard that, Buck." You smiled, walking back over to the two. 

"You were supposed to," Bucky said, standing to embrace you. "Just be careful, for us." He begged.

"Always." You promised as Steve pulled you into his arms.

"Y/N are you ready?" Kitty asked as the elevator doors dinged. "Don't make me come in there."

"Keep your pants on." You called back. "I'll be back soon. I love you." You told the two.

"Love you too, sweetheart." They responded in unison. 

"We should get dessert," Kitty said, skipping beside you. 

"And pump you full of sugar, no way. Logan will kill me if I send you back hyper." You laughed.

"Logan wouldn't kill you, you're like his kid." Kitty waved you off. "I know this fantastic ice cream place. It's right around the corner."

"Fine but if you piss off Logan, let it be known I was against this." You said, causing her to giggle.

Kitty took your hand and began to lead you down the street. The two of you were deep in conversation and you almost didn't notice as she led you down an alley.

"Kitty, what are you doing?" You asked the woman, yanking your hand out of hers. Focusing on Kitty's brain signals you reached into her head. It was strange, it was as if there was a low humming coming from her mind.

"Kitty's a bit checked out right now." A familiar voice said from behind you. Instantly you spun around and shifted into your diamond form.

"Jean, I see you've changed sides." You commented, narrowing your eyes at her figure. 

"I wouldn't exactly put it like that." She said, walking towards you.

"Do you prefer the term traitorous bitch then?" You asked her, eyes darting between her and Kitty.

"It doesn't have to be like this Y/N." Jean sighed. "We could do great things with you on our side."

"You want to kill half the world's population. You want to use me to do that and you've fucked with my friend's brain. Sorry Jean, but it's a no from me." You told her, discreetly reaching for your phone and pressing the button Tony had installed.

"It wasn't really a question, Y/N. It just would have been better if you said yes." She sighed. "Sabertooth." She called. Within seconds the alleyway darkened and Sabertooth stood before you.

The brooding hulk of a man launched forward with his hands outstretched. You dodged his grip and picked up a dumpster before hurling it at him.

You were putting up a decent fight until you felt a hand grip your shoulder and you sunk into the ground.

A startled gasp left your mouth as you were sucked halfway into the Earth. Looking up you noticed more people had joined the four of you in the alley.

"I take it you're Sebastian Shaw." You said, attempting to free yourself. 

"And you're Y/N L/N. I'm sorry it's taken us this long to meet, but we'll have plenty of time to be acquainted." He said as Kitty and Sabertooth freed you. "You can drop your diamond form any time you wish."

"And free me to have my head fucked with by that traitorous bitch? Fuck off." You rejected him.

"We'll see how long that lasts," Sebastian smirked.

Non-Reader POV

The tower had become quiet after Y/N left. The world didn't need saving and it seemed even petty villains were taking the day off. 

Everyone was lounging around the common floor and just enjoying their time off.

Until a loud, blaring, siren began to repeatedly ring.

"What is that Stark?" Clint yelled over the noise, turning down his hearing aids.

"That's what happens when you press the button on your phones," Tony yelled back. "J.A.R.V.I.S. who's distress signal is that?"

"The signal is coming from Miss L/N's phone," J.A.R.V.I.S. responded, turning off the alarm.

"What's happening to Y/N?" Bucky demanded.

"J.A.R.V.I.S locate Y/N's signal and hack into any security cameras in the area," Tony ordered. J.A.R.V.I.S. took a second before he brought up a grainy security feed on the T.V.

"Is this live?" Steve demanded, jumping to his feet.

"Yes, Captain Rogers," J.A.R.V.I.S. responded. 

"Send the location to my phone," Steve said as he and Bucky made to leave the room. 

"It's a bit late for that," Natasha said before they could leave the room. Steve and Bucky turned around in time to see a red man appear on the screen before disappearing. Along with everyone.

Along with Y/N.

"Fuck," Bucky growled, punching his metal hand through the wall. Before he could destroy any more property Steve took his hands in his.

"Tony, is there any way you can track them?" Steve asked without turning back to the billionaire. 

"I can't," Tony admitted, shaking his head. "I'm sorry."

"You can't, but I can," Natasha said, pulling out her phone. "Logan, this is Natasha Romanoff. We need your help."

"I'm trying! This isn't easy!" Rouge snapped at Tony who raised his hands and backed away.

"Alright everyone, let's just take a ten-minute break. Everyone is too stressed." Storm said. "Bobby please take our guests to the kitchen and Rouge breath."

It had been two weeks since Y/N and Kitty had been taken. There had been no contact from the brotherhood and no-one even knew if they were alive. 

The Avengers combined with the X-Men had been working as hard as they could to track down their missing friends but after two weeks of zero results, everyone was beginning to lose it.

"We're sorry about Tony," Steve said as he and Bucky walked with Storm.

"We know he can be a lot on a good day." Bucky apologized. 

"Trust me, I understand large egos. I live in a house of mutants who all believe their powers are superior to each other." Storm laughed. "At least we're making progress."

"If you count progress as not finding anyone but finding out where they're not, then yeah. I suppose we're making progress." Bucky said.

"Progress is progress." Storm shrugged.

"Storm," Logan said, rounding the corner. "Where'd Rouge go?"

"She mumbled something about needing a smoke." Storm told him. "A habit she picked up from you, I assume."

"As long as she leaves mine alone, I don't care what she does." Logan shrugged, moving past them to find the girl.

"I apologize for Logan. He's not taking Kitty or Y/N's kidnapping well." Storm said as they continued walking. "Or Jean's defection."

"I wouldn't think he'd take it any other way," Steve assured her. "From what we understand they were very close."

"Close is one way to describe them." Storm chuckled. "Logan might as well be her father. He's the one who found her after all."

"Y/N never mentioned that," Bucky said, furrowing his brow.

"That sounds like Y/N. She never did like talking about how she joined us."

"Could you tell us exactly how Y/N came here?" Steve asked the woman.

"I wasn't here when Logan brought Y/N back, but from my understanding, he found her in the forest. She was five and her parents had left her to die in that forest." Storm explained.

"If I ever find those fuckers, I'm going to stick my claws in their head," Logan said, appearing behind them. "Rouge wants everyone back." He added before walking off.

"He's very blunt." Storm laughed. "You're lucky he likes you two."

Reader POV

A week after being taken.

"You're killing yourself, Y/N." Jean sighed, entering your cell. 

"Like you fucking care, Jean." You scoffed, refusing to face the woman. "You're the reason I'm here."

"I don't have to be the reason you die." She said, stepping towards you. "Drop your diamond form Y/N. Your stubbornness is going to be the death of you."

"You and I both know, this isn't going to kill me. I don't have to eat, sleep, drink, or breathe in this form. I'm unbreakable and you can't read my mind." You said, finally turning to face the redhead.

"You're not unbreakable, no-one is." Jean rolled her eyes. 

"I am unbreakable." You insisted. "And there's nothing you or your little friends can do about that."

"We'll see about that," Jean said, spinning around and slamming the door behind her.

You waited a minute before you turned back to the barred window and resumed your attempts of freedom.

You'd get out of here. And you'd save all those Jean and the Brotherhood had trapped inside their heads.

Two weeks.

"Normally, I would like to say I am a rational man. A man who follows his beliefs to a T, but you are really testing my patience." Shaw said, pacing in front of your still diamond form.

You had been the Brotherhood's prisoner for two weeks. You had attempted escape three times, only to be thwarted at every turn. The Brotherhood may have thought breaking you would be easy, but you got your stubbornness from Logan Howlett.

It had been two weeks of you being trapped in your diamond form. You hadn't slept, hadn't eaten, hadn't done anything except attempt to escape and deny your kidnapper's requests.

You knew if you were to drop your diamond form at any point, Jean would play with your head as she had done Kitty's and so many others.

"I've been known to do so." You murmured, eyes closed as you attempted to meditate.

"This isn't funny anymore," Shaw growled, storming forward and grabbing you by the throat. He pulled you from the ground and held you off the floor. 

"It wasn't funny to begin with." You said not even struggling against his grip. "Face it, Shaw, you wanted power by using me but you underestimated how powerful I am." You mocked him.

"I will give you one last chance to join us on your own terms," Shaw said, looking you dead in the eyes.

"Are we done here? Because I'm done hearing that sentence every day." You rolled your eyes.

"After today you won't hear it again." He said, throwing your body across the room. "Sabertooth." He called. 

Within a second the large mutant filled the doorway and darkened the cell.

"It's time," Shaw said, stepping aside for Sabertooth to enter. Sabertooth lumbered towards you and raised you from the ground. 

You struggled fiercely against the hairy man's grasp but he merely tightened his hold as he followed Shaw down the hall.

"You see, Miss L/N, I am usually against harming one of our kind. But this is for the good of our kind, so I think my conscience will be fine." Shaw said, opening a series of doors.

"Oh good for you." You groaned, still struggling.

"I've been doing some research. Your diamond form is fascinating. Fourteen days without rest or nutrition? It's impressive." He commented. "You're nearly unbreakable."

"I am unbreakable, but it's sweet you find me so interesting." You rolled your eyes.

"Diamonds can be broken." Shaw continued as if uninterrupted. "It just takes a lot of pressure. For you, it takes a lot more pressure." He told you, opening a door to reveal what looked like an operating theater.

"Oh fuck." You whispered, struggling harder than before. If you been in your normal form, Sabertooth would have crushed your organs. "You fucking let me go you piece of mutated shit!" You yelled.

"I did a lot of research for this experiment, Y/N, I'd thank you to participate," Sebastian smirked.

Despite your struggles and attempts at escape, Sabertooth managed to strap you down to the medical bed.

"The straps are made from vibranium, even your boyfriends wouldn't be able to get out of it." He told you. "And this," He said, pressing a button causing a drill to lower above your prone body. "Is the strongest diamond drill known to man."

"It's not going to work, Shaw." You snapped at him. "You're going to lose."

"With you on my side, I think I'm going to win." He grinned, pressing another button causing the drill to turn on and continue to lower. 

Directly above your heart. 

"You have a choice here. Join us and I will turn the drill off, sparing either of us the knowledge as to whether it will work. Or, you can continue to fight and we'll see if you die or turn back. The choice is yours."

"Go fuck yourself." You growled, unable to move an inch of your body. You did not notice how quickly the drill had lowered until it was piercing your diamond form.

A shrill scream left your throat as the drill punctured your diamond form. You could feel and hear, the rest of your body beginning to crack as the drill continued to lower.

The sound of the door being thrown off its hinges attracted your attention but you couldn't see past the drill.

You could hear Shaw yelling in fear and pain, Sabertooth growling and your name being screamed.

The drill turned off as you felt your diamond form begin to falter. The pain began to set in and you began to dry sob as the drill was raised.

"I got you, doll." A voice near your ear said as your straps loosened. "I got you," Steve repeated as you looked up.

"Steve." You gasped as you tried to sit up. A yelp escaped you as you attempted to move.

"Lay down, doll," Steve pushed you back. "It's okay, I'm here. Buck's here, Logan's here. We're going to get you out."

"I can't move." You gasped. "I can't shift back, I can feel the damage." You winced.

"It's fine we're going to deal with this. Buck!" Steve called, cutting the rest of your straps. "She's breaking and can't shift back."

"My heart hurts." You whimpered, looking up at the brunette.

"That's okay, doll. We're going to get Banner to set up the medical on the jet. We're going to get you out." He promised you, pressing a kiss to your cold forehead. "Can you carry her and throw that thing?" He asked Steve.

"I'll carry her." Logan cut in, sheathing his claws. "Sorry, kid." He said, gently lifting you causing you to cry out. 

"Did you find Kitty?" You whispered to Logan as the four of you ran towards an exit.

"We got her kid. She's okay." Logan told you, causing you to sigh happily.

The four of you made it back to the jet with no incidents and you saw both your families waiting for you all.

Hank and Bruce had set up a medical area and were waiting for the four of you.

Logan gently laid you down on the table they set down and you winced as you heard your skin crack once more.

"Christ Y/N." Hank cursed, assessing the damage. "You need to shift back if you want to heal these cracks." He told you.

"I can't." You shook your head. "They had a diamond drill. Drilled into my heart. It went through." You gasped.

Bruce and Hank began to discuss ways they fix the damage without killing you.

“You need to stay in this form until we get back to the tower.” Bruce told you. “We’re going to have Cho set up the cradle and when we get back you have to drop your diamond form, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded. Bruce and Hank stepped aside and Steve and Bucky took their places, each taking one of your hands.

“Hey, doll.” Bucky smiled, pressing hips lips to yours.

“Hi, Buck.” You smiled weakly. “You look tired.”

“That’s rich coming from you.” He smiled at you gently. 

“You’re not wrong. I feel like absolute shit.” You groaned.

“That’s alright. We’ll take care of you when we get back. You’re not leaving the bed for a couple of weeks.” Steve smiled, kissing your hand.

“Sounds fun.” You smirked.

“That’s not going to happen for a while.” Steve shook his head as Bucky chuckled.

The jet landed back at the tower what felt like minutes later. Helen and her team pushed their way onto the jet and began to roll the table off the jet.

“Y/N we need you to drop this form.” Helen said as you were rushed to the infirmary. Weakly you gave the woman a nod and with more effort than normal you dropped your diamond form for the first time in two weeks.

A strangled gasp escaped your lips as the pain to your normal self set in. The last thing you remembered before you lost consciousness was the table moving faster and Helen began to bark orders.

“Hey kid.” Logan greeted, entering your room. 

“Hey Logan.” You smiled, sitting up in the bed, not disturbing a sleeping Steve next to you.

“Want me to come back later?” He asked, gesturing to Steve and Bucky who were curled around you.

“No you’re fine. These two sleep like the dead.” You told him as he sat in the chair next to the bed. “I missed you Logan.” You said, taking his hand.

“I missed you too, kid. I thought we lost you for a minute there.” He admitted.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily. I’m your kid.” You laughed.

“How’s the heart?” He asked, pointing a finger in your hearts area. “Gonna give you any grief?”

“No, cradle fixed most of it. Healing factor will do the rest.” You told him.

“You scared me kid.” Logan told you. “I thought you were going to die for a minute there. You’re like my kid, don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You won’t have to think about that for a while, Logan. I’m not going anywhere.” You smiled, squeezing his hand. “I’ll always be here.”

“I’m proud of you, Y/N. You’ve always made good choices. You’ve saved the world a couple times and you picked some good partners.” He chuckled, gesturing to the sleeping men. “You’ve grown so much since I found you in that forest.”

“You’ve changed too, Logan. You’ve done some good things too.” You told him.

“Best I ever did was raise you.” He said. “I love you kid.”

“I love you too, dad.” You told him, causing the man to smile wider than you’d ever seen.

Sitting in that hospital bed, you had never been happier. You had your boys with you, you had your father and you had your family in this tower. You were alive and that’s all that you needed.

Taglist

@rvgrsbrns @smilexcaptainx @hopingforbarnes @starlingelliot @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @jelly-fishy-babie @skeletoresinthebasement @agent-barnes40 @reann-loves-sebstan @skadikh

Coming soon

Dean x reader x Cas

Bucky x reader x Natasha

Meg x reader x Cas

Wanda x reader x Vision

Steve x reader x Bucky x Peggy

[frostedfaves]

Tactical Village

Pairing: Jake Peralta x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N gets a little jealous on Tactical Village Day. Rewrite of 1x19.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: mentions of gun use

-

Tactical Village Day. A national holiday at the nine-nine, and everyone had a different reason for celebrating. Rosa was out for blood, simply because it was in her nature to be. Terry had the stress of raising twins locked, loaded and ready to be released. Amy wanted to prove her skill level to the captain and check out the new handguns (but good luck getting her to admit her obsession with 'finger feel'). Jake wanted "Coolest Kill" and a children's karate trophy. Truth be told, all I wanted this year was to want Jake less.

It's exhausting being friends with the person you're hiding your feelings from, even more so when his best friend Charles thinks everyone is in love with Jake and overthinks all of our interactions. I'd fully planned to spend the day perfecting my tactical skills while listening to Jake explain the extensive backstory of his character as a friend. Then fate decided to throw a monkey wrench into that plan, and unfortunately for me, she was attractive.

"I'm so sorry," Jake awkwardly laughed, letting go of her arms after saving her from falling. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine! I...wait, Peralta? Jake Peralta, hi! How have you been?" I couldn't fight the rolling of my eyes as she flipped her hair over her shoulder with a tilt of her head, grinning.

"I've been good, yeah!" He noticed her eyes flicker over to me and turned to introduce me. "Y/N, this is Nikki Becker. Nikki, this is Y/N L/N, my friend and fellow detective from the nine-nine."

"Pleased to meet you, Y/N." She shook my hand lightly before practically tossing it aside, never once taking her eyes off Jake. "I'm so glad we found each other again! We were best friends in the academy."

I glared at her as my arms found their way across my chest, locking together. "I thought Rosa was your academy BFF, Jake—"

"People can have more than one best friend," she quickly cut in, finally looking at me with a sickly sweet smile and eyes that could kill if they'd given us real bullets.

"Sure." I turned and walked over to where Rosa stood, smirking as I approached her. "Don't say anything," I quickly mumbled as I huffed out a frustrated breath and she chuckled.

"Why not? You were clearly winning."

"What?" I saw her eyes trained on something else and followed them to see Jake joining us.

"Hey, Y/N! Ready to check out those handguns now?" Before I could respond, we were also joined by Nikki.

"Jakey! They have this new gun that attacks through sound that's supposed to be really accurate. Come check it out with me!" she insisted, tugging on his arm as he looked to me with a raised eyebrow.

"It's fine, I'll go with Rosa." I held a smile as he finally let her drag him away until they were completely out of my sight, turning to Rosa with a sigh. "Let's not even talk about it. I don't want Charles to hear."

"He's gone to get a 'cafe con leche', so we've got about ten minutes. But if you really don't wanna talk about it we can draw some hair on the targets, grab some brand new weapons, and pretend we're damaging the vocal chords that produce that stupid voice of hers." I laughed and followed her outside.

-

The rest of our field testing and target practicing time went by smoothly...for Nikki, at least. She spent most of the time latched onto Jake like a long-haired leech while I spent my time shooting targets until they were covered with thick layers of paint, constantly running out of bullets every time I heard her vomit inducing giggle.

"Dude, are you alright?" Amy questioned when I slammed down an empty gun and reached for another one.

"Perfectly fine, Ames," I replied without looking at her as I shot five straight bullets into the poor target's head.

"Okay, I think you've had enough practice." She turned the safety on and took the gun from my hands, setting it back on the table I got it from. "What's going on with you?"

I parted my lips to answer her, quickly closing them again and turning to glare at giggly Nikki and oblivious Jake as he showed her how to handle a new assault rifle. Feeling sick to my stomach, I faced Amy again and tried hard to paint on a smile that she wasn't buying.

"Why don't you just save his and what's-her-face's time and tell him how you feel?"

I sputtered out a laugh. "Tell him how I—what? You're hilarious. No, I've decided to take a page from Rosa's book. Wait until I'm on my deathbed and then tell him how I feel...or felt. I don't know who I'm gonna like by then. Point is I can't get rejected when I'm dead."

"Y/N, that's ridiculous! You're really going to risk what could be the start of a great relationship? You and Jake talk about everything."

"This is different. There's a very real possibility that telling him how I feel could ruin the whole friendship and I'm just not ready for that, okay?"

She sighed. "Alright, I get it. But at least try to act like you're not imagining that girl's face every time you shoot a weapon." She gave me a quick pat on the shoulder and moved over a bit to work on her own target.

"No promises," I told her as I picked up the gun she took from me earlier.

-

We were now in our training simulation. Sneaky little Amy insisted that she should do perimeter security with Rosa and Charles because she thinks we would "kill at being the assault team, no pun intended". I think it was just her way of saying "tell Jake how you feel".

Luckily Jake was too involved with perfecting Rex Buckingham in all of his signature move and catchphrase glory to give me a chance to bring up any kind of feelings to him. I was especially thankful I had my back to him when he told me some little fact Nikki told him earlier, because I simply couldn't hide my grimace at the mere mention of her name.

We'd just approached the end of the hallway when shots rang out before I could react. I eyed the paint in my hair and on the wall by my head, frozen in place as Jake took the perp down.

"No one shoots a mate when Rex is around," he proudly stated in his accent with a grin, instantly letting it fall when he turned to me. "Hey, are you okay?"

I closed my eyes tightly before opening them and meeting his. "Okay, so I was going to save this for my deathbed someday but apparently I can die randomly in a hallway. So here goes. I like you. I have for a really long time and it sucks being friends with you and not being able to say anything because I don't want to ruin what we already have. But it sucks even more not being able to have more with you and definitely watching you and clingy Nikki together sucked the most."

He looked at me for a second with an unreadable expression, about to respond just as he was cut off by our radios.

"Peralta, L/N. Hostages in room 409, armed suspects."

"We'll talk later," he assured me with a small smile as he took off down the hall, and I couldn't tell if I should be worried or relieved. 

-

The excitement of a perfect run and setting the course record along with the odd situation of Jake using Scully's move kept the squad occupied all the way to Shaw's. I hadn't had a moment alone with him since my big hallway confession and I only grew more anxious with time.

"Three shots of Jack Daniels, please." I kept my eyes on the liquor bottles as I waited for the bartender to come back, aware of Amy coming to sit next to me.

"Celebrating or drowning your problems?" she joked and I simply rolled my eyes at her. "Okay I'm sorry for setting you up like that but I just didn't want to see you struggle so much."

"Well good news for you. I don't think I'll be able to struggle anymore if Jake never talks to me ever again. I've officially scared him off."

"I promise you haven't." I froze in place again as he slid onto the stool on my left. "Hey Santiago, can we get a moment alone?" He waited until Amy disappeared before speaking again. "About what you said earlier—"

"Jake, it's okay. Whether you wanna keep being friends with me or if knowing I like you is too much to handle, it's okay. Really. Whatever you decide, I'll find some way to—"

Warm lips landed on mine and I closed my eyes instantly. I waited until his arms wrapped around my waist and found a place to rest my hands on, wanting to confirm that I wasn't imagining a second of this. My eyes fell open again when he pulled away, a little wider this time because I was still slightly doubting what this means.

"I know that probably wasn't the clearest answer so I'll say this. I'm sorry that I let Nikki ruin what was supposed to be a fun time for us, but I can't say I regret it because she helped me find out something I was too scared to ask you on my own." He smiled and pushed his fingers through my left hand. "I'm also really glad you didn't wait till your deathbed to tell me because I would prefer to start being your boyfriend now."

I pulled my hand away and lightly shoved his shoulder. "Take me on a date first, clingy." I grinned and he laughed, quickly handing over some cash to the bartender and holding up one of the shots.

"To the start of something more."

I tapped my glass to his. "To something more."

"To something more," Charles added, grabbing the third shot and tapping it to ours. He downed the drink and pulled us both into a hug before we could react. "I can't wait to babysit your children."

Jake and I made eye contact and nodded, ducking out of the hug simultaneously and locking hands as we walked off. When we were far enough away, we toasted again and drank, staring at each other with possibilities of the future reflecting in our eyes.

[redqueen-hypothesis]

tied together pt.2 ➳ mlqc

➳ WORD COUNT: 3359

➳ GENRE: fluff

➳ SYNOPSIS: how would the mlqc boys (lucien, victor and shaw) propose?

➳ REMARKS: i seem to be obsessed with sleeping at last songs recently. they’re soothing to ears... these headcanons were inspired by heart. 

VICTOR

has been thinking about proposing for a long, long time

and by long, long time i mean, he’s been thinking about this ever since the two of you started dating

victor has a one track mind: dating, proposal, marriage. when he gets into a relationship with you, it’s all or nothing

the man might seem like he’s emotionally constipated - but he’s determined to make this relationship work, to officially join the two of you together for the rest of your lives

victor is a traditionalist romantic, he inherited that side from his mother. he’s big on romantic shows of affection and has the money to do it too, so he gets down to preparing something that will definitely blow you away

he’s brought up the idea of proposing before, wanting to wait until you’re as ready as he is about the idea of being together

when you give him positive answers, jokingly telling him that he’ll have to do all the cooking or you’d turn him down on the spot, he knows that it’s time to pop the question

gradually puts together a proposal plan after work each day, making arrangements and phone calls

goldman gets roped into helping overtime (give the poor man a raise)

aside from goldman, though, victor is determined to get this proposal down on his own: it’s his proposal, and he’ll do it with his own hands

personally goes to the florist to inspect each and every rose he’s buying (he’s buying them by the hundreds), trimming them of the thorns and bundling them into bouquets

he’s not fantastic with his hands, fumbles with the silk ribbons that seem to keep slipping through his fingers and some of the bouquets look just a little lopsided, but it’s the effort that counts for him

victor knows money can buy almost anything in the world, but he also knows more than anyone else what money can’t buy - your love, your devotion, your patience with him

finds himself reminiscing a lot about his memories with you, from the way you jammed your foot in his office door and shouted how you were going to get that funding no matter what to the way you shiver when he kisses you

gods, time works in some strange ways

you realise he’s been looking a little exhausted when you come to deliver the reports to his office, but victor waves it off, looking as put together as ever

goldman complains to you that he’s been staying up late doing extra work and that he should at least get a bonus, but victor drags him away before he can say another word

(he does get a bonus, but it’s more of hush money than anything. from then on goldman keeps his mouth faithfully shut)

one day after a work week, victor invites you to souvenir for dinner. it’s rare that he brings you there nowadays, because you’d rather just eat together in his house, but you’ve missed the place and mr mills

he sends you a dress to wear, a beautiful wine red affair that fits you like a second skin, and also a limousine to pick you up. no one but him is seeing you in that dress

you’re kind of stressed, because victor just dropped this on you out of nowhere and oh god is something big happening? the dress looks more like something you’d wear on the red carpet than a simple meal

you redo your make up five times before giving up

when you enter the limo, the chauffeur passes you a delicate jewelry box “with regards from mr li”. you open it to find a string of sparkling stones - no, those cannot be real... right?

when you think about your boyfriend though, no they’re quite definitely real

you put it on with shaking hands. victor has a penchant for giving you the strangest gifts, from a golden camel he’d found in a souvenir shop while visiting dubai to a glass jar of pink sand from the beaches of eleuthera just because you had mentioned wanting to visit in passing

but diamonds? you’re pretty sure you’ve seen this as a collector’s item somewhere... how much did they cost?

stepping into souvenir is like stepping into another world altogether - you’ve never seen it like this before

there are velvet roses decorating the small restaurant, in all manner of colour, wine red, champagne, white and pink, scented candles lighting up the room with their flickering glow

and standing in the middle of it all is victor dressed in a dark suit, holding a huge bouquet of red roses in his hands. when he sees you, his face softens ever so slightly, and he puts the flowers in your hands “here”

doesn’t so much as explain what they’re for, pulling out your chair for you. the two of you are the only ones here, and victor serves you himself

is it just you, or does the food somehow taste better than usual?

during the course of the entire dinner, however, victor looks like he wants to say something, but can’t quite open his mouth

he puts a pudding in front of you for desert, your favourite, but this time when you cut it in half with your spoon, there’s sound of metal on metal

you frown. surely victor wouldn’t have dropped one of his cuff-links inside? scooping it out, you find a single, silver band inside, a sparkling diamond resting on the top

you stare at it for a good few seconds without moving, unable to believe your eyes. you’re not hallucinating, right? that’s really a diamond ring there in the middle of your pudding?

you know it’s a proposal. you just can’t seem to shed the thickness in your throat that steals your voice, the way your hands are trembling too much to pick the ring up, the way you’re on the verge of bursting into tears

victor is a little flustered. he can’t see the ring from where he is since it’s still firmly lodged in the pudding. did you swallow it on accident?

he rises to his feet, picks up the ring (where it is, thankfully, still in the pudding and not halfway down your throat), and kneels next to where you’re seated

your eyes are wide with unshed tears, and suddenly he finds it difficult to speak

fuck, he had a speech written... he can’t remember a damn bit of it now

when he whispers your name, you look up at him with those beautiful eyes in stunned shock, and the words just tumble out.

“i know that i am not a perfect man, that sometimes we fight, and that there are times we disagree. i know all of that, but i also know that more than anything in the world, you’re the one i want to spend the rest of my life with.” words have never felt heavier on his tongue. “i love you, i really do. will you marry me?”

you’re still frozen, unable to wrap your head around this, victor is proposing to you. on the other hand, the poor man is starting to wonder if he’s given you a heart attack. “you don’t have to give me an answer right now, you can take some time to think over it more clearly. i know it’s an important decision to make, so-”

you practically knock him over with the force of your hug, squeezing him so tight to you victor almost feels like he can’t breathe

“yes.” you whisper into his ear, and he can feel your tears - warm tears of pure joy falling onto the bare skin of his neck. “yes, i’ll marry you, victor.”

ahh fuck. victor doesn’t know why he feels like crying too. he holds you tighter so you can’t see his face. “you’ll rip your dress like that, dummy.���

when the two of you finally get off the floor, he puts the ring on your finger, and you pull him in for such a fierce kiss that you almost knock him to the ground again

“dummy” he whispers again, and kisses you back just as hard

LUCIEN

surprisingly, just recently starting thinking about proposing

for him, the fact that you were already dating him was all the happiness he thought he deserved for everything he had done as ares

he knew that he had hurt you before, his betrayal, his involvement with black swan, and although he seemed perfectly fine on the outside, he would lie in bed, late at night and unable to sleep, thinking

“does a person like me really deserve such an ordinary happiness?”

everything had been about the evolution of mankind to him, survival of the fittest, leaving the weak behind

and yet nowadays when he sat on a park bench and partook in his usual hobby of people-watching, non-evolvers and evolvers alike, mingling without distinction and enjoying their time together, as friends, as family, as lovers, he couldn’t help but ache for that intangible something as well

love. a concept that had been so utterly foreign to him that he’d merely dismissed it as a survival mechanism humans had developed so that different people would take care of each other, increasing their chances of procreating and passing on their genes

until he had met you

he remembered something you had told him once

“if I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.” it was love that made humans humane

he had dreamed so much about a future where only the best of humanity had survived, leading to a elite society of humans, but if they had to give up this love to get there, did that really make them human?

he pulled together the tiny fragments of memories he had of his parents. the way they had loved each other, the way they had loved him. the way you love him, even though there’s no logical explanation to why you would, even after all he’s done

tears slip silently down lucien’s cheeks on the park bench, alone, for the first time since that car accident when he was five

a young girl offers him a tissue, he smiles and thanks her, watching her scurry back to her family

so you were right all along, weren’t you?

when he confesses this to you one night, with your arms wrapped around his in bed, you look down at him with the most tender smile - so full of this love that he feels like he needs to look away, yet he can’t tear his eyes away from your face

“everyone deserves to be happy, lucien. and i want to be one of the reasons for your happiness, if you’ll let me.”

silly girl. you’re the reason he’s understood happiness in the first place

dating isn’t enough for him. he wants more, to be bound to you, heart, body and soul. he wants to become family, he wants to see you in a white dress. he wants to see his ring on your finger, your love belonging to him for the rest of your lives

he wants to give you the same love you’ve given him

“when two people come together in love, it grows.” you had told him gently, one day out on a date with him. “i want to make you happy because it makes me happy too.”

he’s watched plenty of romance novels in an attempt to replicate the human emotion of love, so he’s all too aware of how the sweetest of words slip out far too easily from his mouth

all those seem so trivial, so lackluster when it comes to expressing just how much he feels for you - it even scares him sometimes

proposals needs rings. that’s the easy part

but he wants to ask you in a way that means something deeper for the two of you

sometimes the old ghosts come back to haunt him and taunt, ‘look at how weak you’ve become, ares, what a fool.’ your arms and lips are there to chase the darkness away

it’s an emotional journey for the two of you

waits till it’s spring to do it

lucien invites you out on a date to a garden exhibition in the rural countryside

it’s a small, beautifully kept greenhouse (typically, it wouldn’t be open to the public, but lucien pulled a few strings with the owner)

when you step in, you’re stunned to see vibrant colours all around in this small, cozy greenhouse. beautiful doesn’t even begin to describe it

you’re already stunned enough until one of the petals flutter just a little before taking off into the air, it’s a butterfly!

your smile makes lucien smile

you run from bush to bush, from flower to flower, gushing to lucien about how beautiful they are - lucien thinks you’re far more beautiful, but just smiles and nods

“did you know that some butterflies only live for a few days after hatching?” he wonders aloud, and you turn back to see him watching two butterflies dancing together in the air. “and yet they’re still one of the most beautiful sights that nature can offer the world.”

you slip your hand into his. when he looks down at you, bemused, and you smile. “kind of like human lives, don’t you think?”

the two of you spend some time at the greenhouse before you leave, wandering along the some of the grassy fields outside. to your surprise, there’s a small stall selling handmade kites

lucien catches you looking at it, and asks if you want to fly kites. you remember your promise together, to fly kites in spring. he hasn’t forgotten it, not even once

you shout encouragement to lucien as he runs, pulling the kite along, and cheer as the purple butterfly kite soars up into the air on the stiff breeze

the two of you take turns keeping the kite in the air

doing this together makes you feel like everything is okay, as if lucien is telling you that he’s ready to put down his past as ares and move on to who he wants to be

you’re feeling just a tiny bit sad when you reel in the kite together, until you see the something shiny tied to the kite

curiously, you pull it free - and realise that it’s a ring

the gem on it is unlike anything you’ve ever seen, it looks white at first glance, but under the light it splits into a rainbow of colours

lucien speaks quietly as he slides it onto your finger. “at first, all i could see this world in was black and white. but the day when you came in my life... i saw colours for the first time. you taught me that this world was so much more than what i thought was right, helped me see the way others saw the world. you brought colour into my life.”

of course you cry. the way lucien speaks is in a way you’ve rarely heard him, his voice isn’t that smooth, composed tone you’re so used to hearing

it’s raw, emotional, and so real with you that you find yourself hanging onto every last word

“i know i don’t deserve you, or the love you give me, but can i be selfish enough to keep asking for it regardless?”

this silly man. why is he asking for it when he already has it all?

holding the kite between you, he kisses you so gently that you feel yourself unraveling under the near painful affection that you can feel from it - the end of one promise, and the forging of a new one together, one that you’ll keep for the rest of your life

SHAW

what’s marriage? is that something you eat?

shaw hasn’t thought about marriage since like... ever

he’s lived his entire life on the edge, playing with danger, coming and going like the thunder clouds before and after a storm

settling down has never been a concept he’s familiar with, but it’s one he finds himself thinking about after he started dating you

he’s kind of young for this, so he’s not sure if he’s ready to give up this flighty lifestyle - it’s all he’s known all his life

and yet, when you call for him, he’s there. when you need him for help, he appears. when you ask him to remain with you, he stays

isn’t that something similar to being chained down already? shaw wonders, but doesn’t quite understand why he doesn’t seem to mind

sometimes, he worries thinks about the fact that you’re getting older... don’t you think about settling down? didn’t one of your co-workers ask you out on a date a few days ago?

when he brings up this question with you one day, you think about it for a bit before nodding. for a second, a tiny bit of worry edges into his heart, but then you’re kissing him on the cheek gently. “whenever you’re ready.”

fuck. he’s never really cared about being a reliable person, he’s the only person who he’s had to take care of his entire life, but now he has you

he wants to be your rock. your anchor in the storm. your man.

when the fuck did he get so cheesy???

finds himself making tiny changes in his lifestyle that he wasn’t even aware of, waving away a cigarette when one of his bandmates offer him a stick, choosing to bring you out on late night dates instead of going drinking with some more uh... shady friends

starts taking on a part time job to earn extra cash (and counting his umbrellas so he stops losing them)

mayhaps he has something in mind that he wants to buy (something for you, but he’s not quite sure yet)

the necklace was an impulse purchase

he’d been skating down the streets, heading home from university one day when a pair of necklaces in the window of a shop catch his eye - they have matching charms, a small storm cloud and a sun

his first thought is: wow that’s so stupid

his second thought: you would look cute with it

he knows he’s whipped, but he’s never going to admit it

shaw finds himself buying it anyway, only to regret it immediately after

what the fuck is he doing

he chucks it somewhere into the mess of his apartment, only for it to resurface a few weeks later when you come over to bring back some clothes you’ve left over in his house

you find the jewelry box, and open it to find the necklaces

they don’t really look like shaw’s type. maybe there’s another girl wooing him?

when shaw sees you holding it he’s scrambling to explain, no it’s not a gift from a girl, it’s...

you look at him, confused. “it’s...?”

he doesn’t have much of a choice but to give it to you now. plucking out the silver chain of the sun necklace, he holds it out to you a little awkwardly

“it’s for you.”

you look into the box curiously. “but there’s another necklace...?”

he blurts out what’s been on his mind for a while

“they’re matching necklaces... for you and me.” he mumbles. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him this embarrassed before. “to chase away any bastards who think they have a chance with my girl. damn, this is stupid, i’m going to throw this-”

you grab his hands before he can move, and suddenly you’re wearing the prettiest smile as you ask him, “well, aren’t you going to put it on me?”

chewing on his lower lip, he puts it around your neck. it takes him a few tries to get the clasp right

in return, you put the other necklace around him, kissing his neck and he swallows at the warmth of your mouth

maybe it’s a little too early to start thinking about marriage, but he knows you’ll wait for him, and that he’ll get there one day

“you belong to me now, alright? no one can take you away from me.”

[pullakori]

Just let me rest

(Warning for violence and very mild gore. And angst.)

He couldn't move. He was frozen in time, shards of mirrored walls around him, floating in the mist, pipes and steel beams twisting among them like roots of a dead tree. He could see himself reflected in the shards.

Himself. Not Shaw. Standing there one arm streched forward, trying to reach for the helm- No. For Erik. Erik who was standing in front of him, wearing the helmet. His eyes cold, determent to do what he had been fighting for all these years. The coin was resting on the palm of his hand, waiting for its purpose to be fulfilled. The picture was drastic change from the man who had laughed with Charles while playing a game of chess. From the man who had caressed Charles with those elegant hands and kissed him like a man drowning.

"Don't do this Erik!" Charles begged, but only in his mind, where his pleas couldn't reach the other man, no matter how he tried to fight it.

"This is what we're going to do." Erik spoke, his voice like steel. Hard and unrelenting. "I'll count to three and move the coin."

"One" The silvery coin floated upwards from Erik's palm.

"No... Erik please..."

"Two." The coin started its voyage through the air, towards Charles' forehead. The panic started to kick in inside Charles. He tried to fight against the invisible force that was keeping him still. But it was in vain. Like always.

"Stop it! Erik! Please, don't do this! Stop! Please!" His screams echoed in the room, but Erik didn't hear him. The coin was still approaching, slowly but surely all the while Erik kept staring at Charles' eyes, misty with tears that were escaping down his cheeks. He wanted to see the moment he finally died. Wanted to see the light disappear.

"Erik-" One final broken sob.

"Three." The coin touched the skin of his forehead, the metal of it cold against his skin.

And then, came the pain. He could feel his skull crack under the pressure as skin and bone gave way to the metal. He could hear the sound of it inside his head. Could feel the coin push through his brain.

He screamed in agony, nothing in the world could compare to this pain. The mirrors were cracking further around him, twisting the picture of the two men even more. There was blood dripping from the hole in his head, he could feel it making its way down his face, leaving a trail of bright red against the white skin.

All the while Erik's cold green and grey eyes watched him, satisfied with what they saw.

Charles pushed himself up from the bed, finally able to move, a scream trapped in his throat and the silk sheets damp with sweat. There was still a phantom pain in his head, the sounds of his skull breaking and the wet trail of blood...

He fought against the sick feeling in his stomack, gulping air with unsteady breaths and lifted one shaking hand to wipe his face. It was wet, but when he brought his hand back to look at it in the pale moon light, there were no smears of blood to be seen. Just sweat then. Maybe some tears, but he wasn't about to admit that, despite the stinging feeling in his eyes.

His other arm gave up under him, tired as the rest of him was and letting Charles fall back down against the now cold pillows. He felt his powers , restless, searching for any other familiar mind nearby. Like a lost child looking for their parents. But only mind near was Hank's, distant with sleep and offering little comfort.

Yet his mind focused on it, trying to stay near the one mind still familiar and close. Charles wanted to pull his powers back to him, wanted to be strong enough to manage through the night on his own. But the feel of Hank's mind, even from the distance warmed him, calmed his still rapid heart. So he let it be.

It wasn't enough for him to go back to sleep though. Nor was it enough to heal his broken mind. Or his broken heart.

Charles let himself cry then. There was no one to see or hear him after all.

(I wrote this on my phone while I had downtime in work. I wanted to write my WIP, but that requires actual effort. This was just something I've had on my mind for a while and I wanted to get rid of it so to speak. No editing, pretty much just wrote what came to mind. And the title is pretty much how I feel right now.)

[omnivorousshipper]

Ah hello Omni! I have a request! Can we have the Shaw siblings and the subtle (or not so subtle) aftermaths and effects of their childhood trauma (and adulthood trauma). Thank you! 😘

I've been biting at the bit to write this one up friend!! I have so many ideas for it, just bear with me!

Warning: implied child abuse, flashbacks pertaining images of child abuse

~~~

Deckard kept his breath even and his eyes closed as he listened to his own heartbeat on the monitor next to him. He could feel his skin itching close to the needle stuck in the back of his hand, but knew better than to scratch at it

He purposely ignored the way his ribs screamed in pain every time he moved even slightly. Or how his foot was raised up on several pillows and a thick cast wrapped around his ankle

It had been a stupid mistake. He didn't see a grenade coming towards him in time and had been thrown off a small ledge. He was lucky to not be struck by any depris

But not lucky enough not to get hurt

With his eyes closed and mind elsewhere, Deckard didn't hear the heavy footsteps coming closer and closer to his room until the door banged open and made Deckard's eyes fly open

"What the fuck did you think you were doing?" Luke Hobbs growled at him. He barred his teeth in anger and stormed up to Deckard

Before the Brit had any time to respond, Luke continued

"I turn my back for one second and you can't even keep yourself from doing the most stupid shit I've ever seen!" Luke shouted, standing over Deckard. "The next time I yell 'grenade' you fucking listen to me, Shaw! Do you understand?"

Deckard stared up at him, face blank as he nodded his head the slightest amount

"See that you don't, princess." Luke barked at him before storming out of the room and slamming the door shut

Deckard could only stare after him

While Luke probably didn't notice the heart monitor going crazy, Deckard most certainly did and tried to calm himself down before any nurse could come rushing in

Blood rushed in Deckard's ears as he tried to take calming breathes but they came shaking and brought a small sob from his lips. His hands shook more than he remembered them doing so in a decade and didn't stop no matter what he did

While the nurses only heard Luke's shouted words, all Deckard heard was his father's words

Closing his eyes, Deckard could feel tears falling down his cheeks

---

Roman could sleep through almost anything. Including the loud thunderstorm that was rolling through Miami that night. He was firmly wrapped around Owen, his chest covering the Brit's back. Face shoved securely in Owen's hair, Roman slept like a baby

Before being violently woken up by Owen sitting up straight

Roman jerked harshly and flung his arms out as a loud crash of thunder shook the walls and made Owen jump even harder

As the rolling thunder trailed off, Roman could hear Owen's heavy breathing in the dark

"Oh? You ok?" Roman whispered and moved closer, but didn't dare put his hand on the other man, no matter how much he wanted to comfort him. He knew better than startle him

"Y-yeah." Came Owen's shaky reply

Frowning, Roman watching him, but couldn't see much in the darkness. Owen's breathing wasn't calming down as quickly as he'd like

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Owen..."

Owen shook his head

"Thunder reminds me when one of my units got bombed when I was in the military." He whispered

Roman felt his heart shatter

"I'm so sorry, Oh."

Owen nodded and took a shaky breath

"Can we sleep?"

"Yeah."

Settling back down, Roman lifted his arm as Owen snuggled into his chest and shoved his head beneath Roman's chin. Holding him close, Roman rubbed Owen's back in comfort

But Owen was stiff as he kept his eyes open, lost in thought

He didn't tell Roman that the thunder also sounded like the gun his father used to own and would point at him as a child

---

Closing the door, Hattie carefully juggled the boxes of pizza and breadsticks as she went back into her apartment

She smiled as she saw Ramsey cracking open two beers and placing them on the coffee table. The TV was ready to go with their choice of movie that night, Little Shop of Horrors

"You said this place was good?" Ramsey asked as Hattie started to place the boxes down

"Best place on this side of London." Hattie flashed her a smile, not looking where she put the boxes

Suddenly, there was a thud as one of the beer bottles went crashing to the floor and spilling everywhere

"Oh shit!" Ramsey yelped as beer splashed all over her feet. "Where are your paper towels?"

As she looked over at Hattie, she found her as pale as a ghost and frozen to the spot

"Hatts?" Ramsey called out gently, but she didn't move

Hattie's eyes were stuck on the fallen beer that was still gushing out the contents. Standing, Ramsey moved closer to Hattie and saw her hands shaking

"Hattie? What's wrong?"

"N-nothing!" Hattie blurted and jerked in place. "Let me clean this up."

"Ok, but-" before Ramsey could continue, Hattie had bolted off and towards the kitchen. Ramsey frowned after her

Hattie nearly collided with the kitchen counter as her breath came short and ragged. Frantically, she looked down at her hands and saw the small scarring on the back of them

She could clearly hear her father screaming at her and demanding she be punished. She could practically feel the latex gloves he would shove onto her hands and force her to wear for an hour or more. She could remember the burning and itching sensation that ran up her arms as she was forced to sit in the puddle of beer she had knocked over by accident

"Hattie?"

"Coming!" Hattie yelled back, hoping her voice wasn't shaking. Grabbing the paper towel, Hattie went back into the living room

---

Leaning against a wall, Deckard kept his eyes narrowed as he watched a nurse walk up to Owen and brandishing a needle

Deckard flexed his arm without thinking and could feel the soreness from where he had already been stuck by a needle

He and his siblings had been sent out by Mr. Nobody to track down an international criminal, but had ended up being ambushed. The guy had sent a canister at them, leaving them in a cloud of unidentified gas

Now, they needed to know if they had been poisoned

Meaning they needed to have their blood drawn

Which Deckard could see that both Owen and Hattie were about to refuse

Hattie was sitting next to Owen, his hand tightly squeezing hers as they both kept their eyes on the nurse

Deckard wanted to tell them that nothing was going to happen, but he knew they wouldn't believe him. Not when he had said the same thing years ago and had been wrong

He knew exactly what was going through their minds when they saw a needle

They were questioning whether they would be forced to sleep if the needed touched them

Deckard had been nine when their mother had first brought home her needles. She had shown them to her children, stating that if they misbehaved while she had an important meeting, she'd make sure they were quiet

Owen, the poor rowdy six year old, had found out the hard way

The needles were filled with strong sedatives that had left Owen unconscious for almost a day

Deckard was sure their mother had killed him

But he had woken up, shaking and sobbing

It wasn't the last time their mother would use tranquilizers on them when they misbehaved. The last time being only half a year ago when Hattie had accidentally screwed up a job their mother had been pulling

Pushing himself off the wall, Deckard dragged a chair up next to Owen and sat on his other side

"Just let 'em take your blood, and we'll get out of here." Deckard said quietly, looking between his siblings

Neither looked remotely comforted

~~~

I hope you enjoyed friend!

[ibelongtowrath]

Skipping The Previews - MLQC (Ling Xiao/Shaw) NSFW

Summary: You decide to go see a movie to take your mind off of everything that's going on in the world, but a sexy stranger thinks it's a good idea to take the seat right next to yours. Rating: Explicit! 18+ NSFW Relationship: Ling Xiao x Female Reader, Shaw x Female Reader, Tags: oral sex, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, fingerfucking, shameless smut, semi-public sex Word Count: 5,707

Read on AO3

Notes: I've been wanting to write something about Shaw ever since I've seen pictures of him & finally encountered him in MLQC and whew...I know he's going to wreck my Kiro and Gavin biases! I wanted to portray him as kind of cocky, since I got that kind of vibe from him, and I hope I managed to capture that essence here. Please keep in mind that I started writing this before movie theaters were shut & things began getting very serious. I was thinking of a scenario where the reader would be upset that Shaw sits directly next to her, and a reason that the theater might still be empty for them to fuck freely in lol. Please enjoy!

It’s midday Saturday, and the movie theater is practically deserted. Carefully, you push the handicap button with your elbow, allowing the doors to open so you don’t have to physically grab them. Everyone is supposed to be doing mandated social distancing, staying six feet away from other humans at all times, until they can get the spread of the virus under control. Going to see a movie in the midst of a pandemic is not the smartest idea, but you want to take advantage of being able to go out as much as you possibly can before we’re all in lockdown. A good science-fiction action movie will take your mind off of things, even if only temporarily.

Grabbing your favorite drink from the Freestyle machine, a Cherry Coke, you walk towards the theater the movie will be playing in. On your way there, you pass the mirror by the exit of the women’s bathroom, and take a quick peek at your reflection. You’re not exactly sure why you bothered with putting so much effort into your appearance when hardly anyone will see it. Shrugging and fluffing your hair quickly in the mirror, you turn back and continue walking into the theater.

You had picked the seat all the way in the furthest corner of the theater, away from everyone else. Even if there was no social distancing rule, you would have picked it anyway. You settle down into the recliner, the leather cold as it touches your bare legs. It’s an unseasonably warm March day today, and you’re wearing shorts for the first time since September. 

Pushing the button, you recline the chair virtually as far as it will go. The theater is completely vacant, and you pray it stays that way. There’s still about 15 minutes before the previews start, and you decide to pass the time browsing your Instagram explore page, watching makeup application videos and laughing at a couple cute and funny cat videos. You’re so fixated on one particular video of a rather chonky cat, you don’t notice the handsome stranger settling into the seat directly next to yours.

You had pushed the middle armrests up to give yourself more space, and when you hear the strange crinkling sound next to you, you’re confused, because you haven’t moved. Your eyes dart to to left, and widen in shock when they meet the gaze of a gorgeous stranger’s; an amber, honey-colored hue you can’t help but stare into. 

You try to keep your expression neutral, but he’s so attractive, it’s hard to keep your composure. His lavender-grey locks of hair fall messily, but carefully at the same time, over his face, framing it perfectly, some of his fringe falling into his golden eyes. You resist the urge to touch the locks of his hair, to sweep them out of the way, so you can better admire the beautiful flecks of gold and honey in that gaze. His purple and black hoodie, darker in hue than his hair, perfectly compliments the color of his eyes. He wears a black choker around his neck, and jeans that are messily, but intentionally, ripped at the knees. Several hoop earrings adorn his ears, a cuff hugging the upper cartilage of his left ear.

Breaking off his gaze, you feel yourself blushing furiously, the heat spreading to your cheeks like a wildfire. Thank goodness you put on a bit of foundation today, so he can’t see the furious rush of red that must be stretched across your face. You notice his hands, the right one wearing a fingerless glove, clutching his phone. The other is bare, a maroon beaded necklace decorating the wrist.

“Is this seat taken, love?” he asks, his lips turning up on one side, flashing you the cockiest grin you’ve ever seen. He knows the answer, obviously trying to provoke you. 

Not wanting to give him the satisfaction, despite feeling your heart  thump, thump -ing loudly against your chest, you turn your gaze towards the screen. An ad for an interactive mobile game is playing on the projector. 

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that,” the stranger says, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“In the case that you’ve been blissfully ignorant, which is probable,” you respond, gaze hardening on the screen before you, “we’re supposed to be staying at least six feet from other people.”

“Damn, you’ve got some bite.” He grins at you.

Running his fingers through his hair, he continues. “Yeah, I’ve seen the news. Been wanting to see this movie, though. I saw only one person had bought a ticket, so I bought the seat next to ‘em. I was hoping it would be next to a pretty girl. I was right.”

You turn to look at him, an incredulous look on your face. The compliment is flattering, but he doesn’t have to know that. You try to keep your best poker face on.

“And you thought that was a good idea?” you retort. 

It comes out with less bite than you intended, now that you’re looking at him directly. His devastatingly good looks are working their charm on you, and he picks up on it. The cocky smirk returns, a glint of something mischievous flashing in his eye. He knows you’re faltering, and he fully plans on persuading you.

“I thought it would be a good opportunity to get to know each other.” 

You can’t help but continue to stare at him, in complete awe of his audacity.

“Figured if you turned out to be some random dude, I’d just go sit in another seat. No big deal.” 

He shrugs, but that wild glint is still in his eye. In the pause that follows, he takes the time to look you over. His gaze lingers on your full lips, then drops to the swell of your breasts beneath your t-shirt. It continues downward, to the curves of your waist and hips outfitted in your favorite pair of short black shorts.

Feeling slightly self-conscious under the weight of his scrutinizing gaze, you unconsciously drop your hands into your lap and look down. You know you should get up and find another seat, or at the very least try harder to make him move. Some feeling you can’t quite place is anchoring you to your current spot. Is it...excitement? Is it arousal?  No. No way .

The previews should be starting in a few minutes, and you’re thankful for the coming distraction.

“Name’s Shaw, by the way.” His voice suddenly cuts through the silence between the advertisements on screen.

Crossing your arms, you look to your left. You decide it can’t hurt, telling him your name. 

“ Y/N ,” you tell him. “It’s nice to meet you, Shaw.”

“Likewise,  Y/N ,” Shaw replies. 

The smirk reappears, but more playful. It doesn’t quite match the look in those topaz eyes. The determination is still there, and you brace yourself for whatever he’s going to try saying next. You know, deep down, that his unrelenting perseverance, charm and good looks might just be your undoing.

Shaw reaches for something behind him. He pulls out an orange bag of Reese’s Pieces, slightly shaking it so the peanut butter and chocolate pieces clink together. He opens the bag, grabs a handful, and drops them in his mouth, his tongue sticking out to catch the pieces in case they fall. You can’t help but stare at the pink wetness and length of his tongue, wondering what it would be like to kiss him and feel it on your own…

Whoa, where did that thought come from ? you ask yourself, confused. Your face feels like an inferno yet again. As if sensing your thoughts, he audibly crunches the candy in his mouth. He swallows, and grins at you.

“Want some, pretty girl? Looking like you do,” Shaw asks, tilting the bag towards you. 

He knows you were staring, and not at the bag of candy.

“U-um...sure,” you stammer, poorly attempting to keep your composure. 

You hold out your hands, cupping them, fully expecting Shaw to pour the mini candies into your palm. Instead, that devilish glint returning to his amber eyes, he pours the yellow and orange candy pieces into his own hand. Confused, you feel your brow furrow slightly, wondering what he’s planning on doing.

Before you can react, Shaw closes the already short distance between you on the recliners. He pushes himself over and encroaches into your personal space. You feel the heat of his body next to yours, his jeans-clad leg brushing up against your bare skin. Your nerve endings feel electrified, your heart beating so hard, it feels like it could explode through your chest at any second.

Shaw leans in, as though he weren’t already close enough. His face is now mere inches from yours. You feel your eyes widen in shock. This close up, his eyes are even more mesmerizing. His skin is perfect, blemish-free, and his lips look so soft, so inviting…He lifts his gloved hand towards your face, fingers lightly brushing your jaw. Then, moving his hand up to your face, he strokes your lips gently with his thumb.

Nonplussed by his move, you feel frozen. You’re unsure of how to react. At the same time, his close proximity and the softness of his skin as he caresses your lips causes goosebumps to flare on your legs and up and down your arms. You start to feel the excitement building within. Giving in to the feeling, you can feel the arousal beginning to pool in your underwear...all caused by this handsome stranger. With a wicked grin, Shaw places his thumb between your lips, pushing against them lightly.

“Open wide, pretty girl,” he coos. 

You part your mouth at his command, your excitement unable to be contained. 

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs. 

He takes his hand, fingers tilting your chin up. With the other hand holding the candy, he drops them in your mouth slowly, the pieces clinking together when they land on your tongue. He takes his hand away as you close your mouth and chew the candy, bursts of chocolate and peanut butter dancing on your tongue. You swallow, looking at Shaw again, just as the theater lights begin to dim. The previews are starting, and the theater is still deserted.

With that sexy stunt, you feel your chest beginning to rise and fall a little faster. You try to control your breathing. The tension between the two of you escalates with every breath. With that mischievous expression still on his face, Shaw reaches his hand out and cradles your face in his hand.

“Do you want some more, love?” asks Shaw, talking over the volume of the first preview that has begun playing on the screen. 

He runs his tongue over his teeth, almost taunting you. Fully aware of the dangerous double entendre in his words, you feel your arousal escalate, almost unbearable at this point. 

Instead of answering him, you gently grab Shaw’s hand, moving it upwards, towards your lips. 

Deciding to give him a double meaning of your own, you find yourself opening your mouth a bit wider, wrapping your tongue around his index finger. You close your lips around it. He tastes like the sweet candies. You run your tongue underneath his finger softly, then slowly pull it out of your mouth. 

You’re feeling powerful and sexy in the way Shaw is now gaping at you, completely turned on. His expression quickly changes back to his usual cocky, lopsided grin.

“What’s that you said earlier about being six feet apart?” he teases, leaning in towards your ear, so close you can feel his breath tickling the side of your neck. 

He lightly nibbles at the lobe, then moves lower. He kisses your neck, adding another gentle bite. You feel yourself shudder in delight. It’s easy to forget you’re sitting in a movie theater and someone could walk in at any second.

Shaw continues leaving red marks, from your jaw to where your t-shirt begins. He pulls the fabric down, revealing your shoulder, kissing and nibbling. You whimper, your excitement and desperation getting harder and harder to hide with every bite. You feel your nipples starting to harden against the lacey cups of your bra. Sensing your agony, Shaw lifts his head up and grasps your face softly yet firmly.

“Look at you. Getting all hot and bothered,” he coos, his silky voice causing your legs to tremble. 

His hand still holding your face, Shaw lightly turns your head towards his, then crushes his mouth against yours. It muffles your cry of shock, quickly turning it into a gasp of pleasure. You lean further into him, deepening the kiss. You bite his lower lip and cause a slight groan to escape from his mouth. You use this opportunity to meet your tongue with his, hungrily massaging them together. 

Unable to hold back any longer, the titillating stimulation having completely drenched your panties, you break off the kiss. You can feel the excess saliva shining on your chin. You turn to face Shaw, stand up. Then, you swing your leg seamlessly and straddle him, feeling the hardness of his erection between your legs. The leather chair crinkles loudly as you move. He places his hands on your hips, hooking his thumbs through the belt hoops of your tiny black shorts.

“You bad girl,” Shaw taunts, hot breath tickling your ear. “What if someone sees?”

“Then they’re going to get a show,” you quip, silencing him with your tongue.

After a minute, or who knows how long - you’ve long since stopped trying to keep track of time - he pulls away from your hungry kisses, burying his head in your neck, kissing the sensitive skin. You feel Shaw start to lift up your shirt, revealing your lacy black bra. 

His hands run slowly, deliciously up your abdomen. It starts from your hips, tracing the curves of your waist, and finally reaches the band of your bra, slipping his fingers underneath the silky fabric in one fluid motion. Goosebumps dart across your skin at his touch.

His fingers dance across the skin under the band so deliciously, you’re aching for more. When they reach the cups, he pushes them up, your breasts bouncing and spilling out with the sudden freedom. The exposure causes your heart to leap from your chest, but thankfully, no one else is around. You’ve never done something so lewd in public before.

Continuing to kiss your neck, his hands cup your breasts, caressing them gently. Shaw pinches and rolls your nipples between his thumb and index fingers, shooting pleasure straight down between your legs.

He begins his journey of bites and kisses again down your body again, moving from your neck, and down to your breasts. You feel him tonguing your nipple, lightly sucking as his tongue dances across the sensitive skin. He continues with his talented fingers on your other breast. 

"Mph!” 

You moan, hardly caring about how loud you’re being. All the self-control you tried so desperately to cling onto has been washed away by the hands of a sexy stranger.

The possibility of being caught heightens the adrenaline pumping through your veins. Your desire now akin to a fire, every touch of Shaw’s on your skin only serves to stoke it further. Each nibble, each caress, sends jolts of electricity through your body. Your nerve endings feel as though they’re out of control, each stimulation causing more sensitivity. You bite your lip with the pleasure of it.

Deciding it’s time that Shaw shows some skin of his own, your hands reach up under his loose sweatshirt. Fingers moving delicately, you trace the taut ridges of his abdominal muscles. Taking your cue, he lifts the fabric, pulling it further up. It’s giving you - and anyone who might walk into the theater, for that matter - a full view of his perfectly-sculpted body.

You run your hands up and down the length of his abdomen, drawing heavy breaths from Shaw. His chest rises and falls more rapidly. You lean forward then, lips on his neck, sucking the skin into your mouth. Then, you move over his defined clavicles and pecs, returning the love bites he had so graciously gifted you not much earlier. 

He gasps in pleasure, placing both hands on your ass, barely covered by the fabric of your tiny shorts. He squeezes it as you grind your hips against his thighs. 

Shaw’s hands move to the button of your shorts, undoing it quickly and pulling the zipper down. Your matching black panties peek out from the opening. He pulls them forward slightly, then slips two fingers in. 

He ventures down slowly into your folds, the other hand gripping your inner thigh. A lewd noise escapes from your lips, and you hear Shaw’s breath hitch at the sound of your desperation.

You’re so wet, Shaw’s fingers slide up and down with ease. They linger around your swollen clit, begging to be touched. He teases it with his fingers, sending delicious waves of pleasure up your spine. 

Suddenly, he pulls his fingers out, the sudden absence of them making you hungrier. Your desire is even more fierce. Your pussy is begging to be filled, and you can feel yourself clenching in frustration at having to wait.

Holding up his hand, you see the evidence of your arousal that coats his middle and ring fingers, slick and shiny in the light of the screen behind you.

“Naughty, naughty girl. Getting so turned on in a place like this.” 

He sounds so proud, so full of himself. You lean back slightly, placing some distance between your bodies. Looking down at the sizable bulge in his jeans, seeing that he’s quite obviously just as turned on as you are, you feel your eyebrows raise at him.

“I could say the same for you,” you purr, your voice as smooth as velvet.

Shaw looks at you then, drinking in the sight of you. Lips pink and swollen, your eyes, half-closed and shiny, glazed over with lust, your hair messily falling around your shoulders. T-shirt and bra pushed up, bare breasts bouncing with every movement. His eyes fall on the delicious pinkish-red trail of love bites leading from your neck to your breasts...all in this very public setting. 

He draws a sharp breath in, his cock straining harder against the constricting fabric of his jeans. Excitement is etched all over his skin. He knows he should stop, but he doesn’t want to, and he’s hoping you don’t want to either.

“What are you going to do about it?” Shaw tilts his head up at you, and you recognize the challenge in his words.

“You’ll see.”

Half of your brain screams at you to stop, to end this now before it goes too far. The other half eggs you on, telling you that you only live once. The metaphorical angel and devil sit on your shoulders, each giving you a reason to listen to them. Grinning, you decide to turn towards the devil, abandoning all common sense. The thrill and the pleasure are overloading your senses. All rationale and reasoning are being completely thrown out the window.

You find your hands on the button of Shaw’s jeans, unbuttoning them, and pulling the zipper down slowly. You hook your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down. After a few seconds, his fully-erect cock springs out. You widen your eyes in surprise at his length and girth. You’re a bit nervous about your ability to fit him, but you never back down from a challenge.

You grasp a hand around his erection, jerking him up and down a few times. You tease your thumb around the head, drawing out ragged breaths from Shaw. You remove your hand from his cock and, without a second thought, you stand up. Shaw watches you in anticipation. 

The rush is so satisfying, you never want it to end. You’re in complete shock at yourself for feeling like this. What happened to the careful, cautious girl whose motto was “better safe than sorry?”

She’s dead and gone now .

Feeling the adrenaline blazing a trail through your veins, you sink slowly to your knees in front of Shaw’s seat, your eyes never leaving him. His eyes widen, realizing what you’re about to do, and he scoots forward to the edge of the seat.

“You’re crazy!” laughs Shaw, teasing but obviously delighted. “Crazy, crazy girl.” 

You grin, accepting it as a compliment. The adrenaline rush gains more and more momentum. You can feel your pussy throbbing. Your black lacy underwear is completely soaked with the anticipation.

You lean in, grasping his length in your hand, jerking it up and down in slow, tantalizing motions. His pre-cum leaks out, and you dip your tongue into his slit, tasting and lapping up the salty fluid. Removing your hand from his shaft, you use your thumb to caress his head. You run your tongue over the length of his dick, back and forth, as though you’re tasting the most delicious ice cream you’ve ever tasted. 

Shaw looks down at you then: reddened lips, swollen and moist with spit. He inhales sharply, leaning back against the chair as he does so.

Sufficiently lubricated with your saliva, you breathe deep. You open your mouth, accepting his generously-sized dick into it. You’re swallowing around it, your cheeks hollowing with the effort. You’ve never deepthroated any guy as big as him before, and you feel your throat rebelling in protest at the new challenge. You manage to quell the gag and relax your throat muscles. 

His dick fully engulfed in the wet heat of your mouth and throat, you hear Shaw let out a ragged, breathy moan: 

“Fuck, oh, fuck…”

He leans forward again, threading his fingers through your hair. The sudden action forces his cock a little further down your throat than you’d intended. This time, you can’t control the small gag that escapes you. Tears form in your eyes; one manages to escape, and falls down your face. Thankfully, Shaw doesn’t notice, and you continue your movement: back, and forth, swirling your tongue up and down his shaft as you move to the rhythm of a song nobody else can hear. 

Having lost track of time, you continue. The loud music and explosions of a preview of some new action movie is playing behind you. You feel his dick twitch, knowing he’s close.

“F-Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, pretty girl…” Shaw groans, stroking your hair.

A few seconds later, Shaw finally releases, shooting hot white ropes down your throat. You move your head back, slowly pulling him out of your mouth. You grasp his length once again and slowly move your hand up and down. More of his cum leaks out onto your lips, dribbling onto your chin. He looks down at you then, riding out the final throes of his orgasm as you lick your lips with a grin. You catch the slightly bitter white fluid on your tongue and make a big show of swallowing.

Shaw sits back against the cool leather of the recliner, panting, trying to control his breathing. He grins, the corner of his lip turned up, feeling amused. He can’t believe you had the balls - no pun intended - to suck him off in the movie theater. He thought he would be lucky if he got your phone number, especially considering how cold you were to him at the beginning. Pulling his underwear and jeans back up, he stands up suddenly. He looks at you, still on your knees. 

“Stand up,” he tells you, and you follow his command, getting up slowly. You feel your legs shake slightly.

“Sit.”

You sit, in the same space Shaw had been sitting just seconds ago, the chair still warm from his body heat. Without warning, Shaw is now on his knees. Just as quickly, he starts pulling down your shorts and lacy black panties over your legs and feet, discarding them on the floor. You gasp in shock. That cocky upturned smirk returning for the umpteenth time, Shaw revels in your surprise.

“Just returning the favor, yeah?”

Before you can react, he forces your knees apart, spreading your legs. You whimper, slightly ashamed that you’re in this very compromised position. The hunger grows in Shaw’s steady amber gaze. Your pussy is now on full display, the fleshy pink skin coated in the clear fluid evidence of your arousal. 

Shaw begins by hooking his arms around the bottoms of your thighs. He slowly kisses the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, moving closer and closer to where you want him to be most. Your desire feels like agony. It’s like a thirst dying to be quenched, a growling hunger aching to be quelled. After what feels like forever, you feel his tongue flicking at your clit. The sensation sends jolts of pleasure and electricity up through your abdomen and into your chest. 

“Shaw!” you hear yourself crying out his name, overtaken by the combination of pleasure and adrenaline. The fire spreads through your body like a wildfire.

Unhooking an arm from around your thigh, Shaw inserts two fingers into your pussy. They fuck you while his talented tongue works its magic on your clit, alternating between sucking and massaging. His fingers curl up as he plunges them in and out of you, massaging your g-spot. 

Shaw suddenly pulls away from you then, his voice husky. 

“Oh, baby girl, you’re going to be making a mess of that seat.”

He continues his song and dance of getting you off. The combination of his fingers and tongue is almost too much to bear, and you begin to feel the heat between your legs start to rise uncontrollably. You know you’re close, and can feel the pressure building. 

Within seconds, you feel the orgasm reach its crescendo, trails of fire burning from your hips up into your abdomen. Your heart pounds as you dissolve into the pleasure. At the same time, as though in sync, a loud gun “BANG!” sounds off, playing from the preview on the large screen. 

You arch your back, riding it out, savoring the delicious electricity pulsing through your most sensitive nerve endings. There’s a sudden gushing feeling between your legs. Realizing you just squirted for the first time, you clap your hand over your mouth in embarrassment and excitement. The fluid leaks down your leg, pooling on the underside of your thighs.

“You didn’t tell me you were a squirter,” Shaw quips, licking his lips. They’re shiny, coated in your juices. He flashes that gorgeous smile at you.

Figuring that you also weren’t aware based on your lack of response, Shaw stands up, silhouetted by the flashing lights of the screen at the front of the room.

“Think I sufficiently returned the favor, right, love?” he asks, leaning over you. 

Your tongues meet yet again, tasting each other on your lips. As he presses into you further, you notice he’s still hard. You glide your hand over the noticeable bulge, teasing him. He inhales sharply and groans into your mouth, then pulls away.

“Guess you’ve still got another round in you,” you hear yourself say. You immediately feel your face flush, shocking even yourself with your sudden boldness.

“Guess so,” Shaw replies, moving to sit down in the set of recliners to your left. He unbuttons his jeans and pulls them down, his fully-erect cock springing out once again.

“You made a mess of that one, so why don’t we try another seat, yeah?” 

He winks at you, then lifts his hoodie once again to reveal his perfectly sculpted abs. He leans back, his dick resting up against them, enticing you over. You glance around the theater, still somehow empty. You then look back at Shaw, who sits patiently, waiting for your reaction.

The devil that’s still sitting on your shoulder whispers into your ear:  Do it. You’ve already gone this far, what’s a little further ?

You feel a grin forming on your lips as you walk over to Shaw. Pressing against him, you straddle his thighs. You tease his cock with your pussy, your wetness coating him. His breath hitches in anticipation as you hover over him. You slowly lower yourself onto his cock, the delicious feeling of his girth filling you up overcoming all your senses. He stretches your walls and you gasp, never having felt this full before.

At the sound of his moans, the feeling of a dark, sinful, rush flows through your veins. Adrenaline, raw lust and desire are controlling all of your actions. You roll your hips, and he groans louder, placing his hands on them as the dialogue behind you drowns out the sounds of your sins. You bounce up and down, moving to the tempo of a lullaby no one else can hear. He grabs your breasts as you ride him, drawing out a whimper of pleasure.

Shaw thrusts into you, matching your cadence. You lean into him, the two of you pressed together as you fuck without inhibition. The feeling of his cock between your walls is heavenly, and you throw your head back in ecstasy, hair hanging loosely down your back. 

“Hey,” you hear Shaw whisper suddenly, “why don’t we switch it up?” 

The words are breathy, as though it’s hard for him to speak and fuck at the same time.

“What...do you mean?” you answer, confused, though you’re finding it equally as hard to speak coherently.

“Stand up.”

Lifting yourself off of him, you do as he says. You’re in the back of the theater, and if anyone came in just then, they would see your naked behind, save for your t-shirt and bra pushed up as far as possible. 

Shaw remains seated for a few seconds longer. He reaches out behind you and squeezes your supple ass. Your naked, curvy silhouette is framed by the bright lights of the newest science-fiction action movie trailer, and he has never seen anything so sexy before.

Finally, he stands. You watch his movements carefully, your curiosity heightening. Suddenly, he moves behind you, gently pushing his knee between your legs.

“Bend over,” he instructs. 

You obey.

It doesn’t take long to realize what position he wants you in, and his hands reach out to grab your hips as you’re bent over the seat, facing the back of the recliner. You oblige him further by arching your back, deepening the angle for his maximum pleasure.

An initial wave of the fear and paranoia of being caught rolls over you, but you feel it ebb as Shaw begins slamming into you yet again, returning right back to the same rhythm where you had left off in your sinful lullaby. All of your attention is focused on him. His hands rest on your hips, guiding your movement as you push back into him. 

He’s so big, you can feel him filling you all the way. The heightened angle is allowing his cock to go so far, up to where he can reach no further, but thankfully it doesn’t hurt. Instead, you revel in the feeling. You’ve never been fucked by a guy who could slam all the way into you like Shaw does.

His hands grab your ass as you bounce up and down methodically. He moves them back to your hips, guiding them up and down as he thrusts harder and harder into you.

His dick slams into your g-spot repeatedly, and you feel yourself on the verge of shattering once more. Not even seconds later, you hit your climax. The fire pools low in your abdomen. The buildup starts slow as the fire blazes to life, then transforms into a pleasurable inferno, shooting all the way up into your chest.

“Mph!” 

A cry of ecstasy tears from your throat. Riding out the final throes of your orgasm, your pussy walls clench tighter around his dick, causing him to gasp. The sudden tightening, a torturous yet delicious feeling, becomes nearly too much for him to handle, threatening to make him come undone sooner rather than later.

“Shit, I’m gonna…” Shaw rasps, barely finishing his sentence as he, too, cums, spilling into you.

Breathless and panting, you pull yourself off of him and stand up, your legs shaking so much you have to hold on to the seat in front of you to prevent yourself from tumbling onto the floor. Quickly, you reach down and pull on your underwear and shorts, a little bit relieved to be covered up again. Shaw is also breathing hard. He’s grinning at you as he buttons his jeans, then glancing to the seats to your left. There’s a few wet spots on the seat - the glaring evidence of your sin.

“You certainly made a mess, huh, Y/N?” he teases, leaning towards you, amber gaze burning into yours. “And not just the seats.”

Blushing furiously at the double meaning, you look towards the aisle.

“I-I’ll go get some paper towels,” you stammer, suddenly feeling the need for fresh air.

Running to the bathroom to clean yourself up, you return a few minutes later, several paper towels in hand. You wipe down the seat, hands shaking all the while. When you’re done, you ball up the towels in your hand, moving to throw them out. As you turn to leave, Shaw pulls on your arm.

“Hey, wait. The movie’s starting,” he whispers, holding you in his gaze. You turn towards the screen, and, just as Shaw said, the title screen of the movie flashes across. Something else catches your attention, and you look down to find another couple walking into the theater, whispering loudly about how they made it just in time.

You look back over at Shaw, and he flashes you that gorgeous smile, winking at you as you sink down into the seat next to him. He wraps an arm around you and you start suddenly, but sink into him. His touch is surprisingly comfortable.

“That’s definitely the best way to skip the previews,” he laughs, and you feel yourself smile, the devil on your shoulder winking at you and finally disappearing.

[cxplqnce]

Deke Shaw - The Moment I Knew

Deke is one of my actual favourite characters ever and I never see anything about him so I thought I would write something!

Word Count: 2,421

Summary: When Izel infiltrates SHIELD it brings out secrets and realisations in everyone.

Warnings: Death, blood, etc...

“Great. So everybody just needs to share a secret that she wouldn't know. The more private, the better.” Elena said, looking around at the rest of the team. They had figured out that Izel was in the Lighthouse and could possess people, which wasn’t crazy at all.

“Oh, great.” May groaned.

“Right, but it has to be something that one other person can confirm.” Daisy added.

“Yeah.” Mack started, causing everyone to look up at him, “We'll clear everyone here first, then everyone else in the base. It's the best plan so far.”

Deke shook his head, “Is it the best plan? I talk a lot. I don't have any secrets.”

“Yeah, you do.” You replied. You and Deke had been dating in secret for a few months now. You had decided not to tell the team because neither of you were sure whether or not it was going to go anywhere and Deke was nervous about what Jemma and Fitz would think about the two of you.

Deke shook his head at you, “No. no, I can’t.” He defended but you gave him a pleading look and he sighed, “Y/N and I are dating. We have been for a few months.” He said.

“I can confirm that.” You added.

“Okay, right. Deke, you’re good. Y/N, secret?” Mack asked.

“I tell everyone I’m an only child but I’m not.” You started.

Davis sighed, “Because your brother was Hydra.” He finished for you, looking over at your saddened expression. Deke grabbed your hand and gave it a slight squeeze to make sure you were okay.

“Okay. Um... I, uh, tell people that the only time I miss Pitosí is during Christmas, but that's not exactly true.” Elena stated.

“It's not?” Mack questioned.

“No, it's not. She told me.” May answered.

“There's one day every year where I miss him more.”

May looked at Elena with a sad look, similar to the one Davis had given you, “Your mother's birthday.”

“That's May.” Elena confirmed, “She's good, too.”

“Okay, um... Daisy anonymously sends part of her S.H.I.E.L.D. salary to someone every month.” Mack started.

Daisy looked down at the ground and cleared her throat, “Amanda Campbell, Lincoln's sister. Mack's clear.”

“So are you. Will you and Yo-Yo come with me for a moment?” Mack asked, leading Daisy and Elena into the director’s office. Once they had both walked in he locked the door.

“Mack! Mack. What's this?” Daisy and Elena protested.

Mack turned to face the rest of the group, “Hear me out. These are new security measures. They're locked in.”

“I can still break through this glass.” Daisy retorted.

Mack looked back at the two girls, “But Izel can't... I hope.”

“You just locked up our two strongest assets against her.” Davis interjected.

“No. He locked the two strongest weapons she could use against us.” May confirmed. £Imagine if she got in one of them. If Izel got your powers, we're all dead.”

“You two stay in there until we catch her, no matter what. You understand?” Mack ordered, causing Daisy and Elena to slowly nod.

“Maybe this is a trick. Maybe she's in you.” Deke suggested.

“He knew what to ask Daisy.” Elena said through the glass, her voice coming out muffled.

“Easy there, hotshot.” Mack said to Davis. You looked down and saw that his hand was on his gun, “You're next.”

Davis looked around the room, “I knew Y/N’s, plus I don't have any secrets anyone here would...”

“Yes, you do. When we were on Krylor, you took something.” Daisy cut him off.

“You knew about that?”

“I was running that mission. I knew everything. Also, you're not smooth... like, at all.”

“I stole a pen.”

“A pen?” May asked.

“A space pen. I thought it was cool. Aliens write things down. I did not know that.” Davis answered, causing you to let out a stifled chuckle at his answer.

“He's clear. And also ridiculous.” Daisy groaned.

At that moment Piper entered the room, “The alien’s inside Deke.” She accused.

“We cleared Deke.” You defended, “It’s not him.”

“Oh, really. I blacked out today... for about an hour. When I woke up, Deke was there. I put together all the pieces.” She said, stepping closer to Deke, with her hand on her gun.

Deke let go of your hand and stepped closer too, “Hold on. I-I lost time today, too, and the last thing I remember before it happened was seeing Piper, so maybe she's Izel.”

“Oh, that sounds exactly like something Izel would say.” Piper argued back.

“Well, so does that. I know I'm me. I don't know who you are.” Deke yelled.

“Fitz. What about you?” Mack said, interrupting the fight between Deke and Piper.

Fitz looked up at Mack and then between Piper and Deke, “Well, it's perfectly clear that it’s one of these two…”

“Yeah, but still... Where was Simmons undercover the first time we met?” Mack asked.

A scoff came from Fitz’s lips as he crossed his arms, “You're asking a lot of questions. Everybody knows the smartest thing she could do... would be to go for the Director. Wouldn't happen to be you by any chance, would it?”

“Fitz. Where was Simmons?” May asked, stepping closer to him.

“You don't know the answer, do you?” Mack asked.

All of a sudden, Izel appeared, causing you to grab onto Deke’s hand again. Everyone was shocked to see her so stepped back and held out their guns. Deke stepped in front of you, protectively, even though you knew you could take care of yourself you were glad Deke was there.

“What happened?” Fitz asked, raising his hands up.

“Things don't have to be painful. They can be so easy. I just need to know who has the most power.” Izel said, looking around at the team.

Izel then jumped into Piper, who started to speak, “You all seem like friends, so let's be smart about this. Just give me what I want.” She started before moving into Deke’s body.

You jumped back away from Deke as she spoke, “And I'll be on my way. Easy.”

Mack reached forward and grabbed Deke’s neck. “Mack!” You yelled.

“No, Mack! Mack. Wait, wait.” Fitz warned as everyone got closer to them, except you.

“Maybe if I hurt him, she'll come out.” Mack threatened.

Deke – or Izel – smiled evilly at Mack, “Does that seem like a good plan, my dear?” she asked, chuckling before she jumped into Mack who was still choking Deke.

“I can kill any of you anytime I want.” He said, releasing one of his hands but keeping the other on Deke’s throat and turning towards Daisy and Elena, “Why don't you come out and stop me? What makes you so special?”

Elena grunted and hit the glass, “Don't. They need us. They're safer with us in here. You heard what Mack said.” Daisy warned her as Davis started climbing up the stairs gun in hand.  

Izel jumped out of Mack’s body, “Things happen fast, don't they?” She said. Mack released Deke and both you and Fitz ran to him. Fitz gave you a questioning look and you replied with a quick, ‘Explain later.’ As you both took him up the stairs a bit.

“Hard to keep up.” She said. You heard Elena and Daisy say something unintelligible and you pulled out your gun, coming nearer to her. “Oh, bad idea, love.” Was the last thing you heard before she took you over.

The rest of the team watched as you shot yourself in the hand under Izel’s control. Deke yelled out for you, trying to get out of Fitz’s grip.

“No! Y/N, no! No!” Deke shouted, pulling at Fitz’s arm.

“Do you understand yet? Do you see how things could be much worse? All I need is someone with access. And then, poof... I'm gone.” You said.

“Davis, take the shot.” Mack said to him.

Davis looked at you, you had been friends for years, you met because he was friends with your brother and you had gone through your brother’s betrayal and death together, “I can't shoot Y/N, Director.” He whimpered.

“You just have to wound her. I'll finish Izel when she comes out.” Mack confirmed.

“Don't make him do something we'll all regret... Director.” You said.

“Davis, now!” Mack yelled, however, Izel jumped from your body into May’s, then Deke’s and Fitz’s before she reached Davis. You looked around at the current situation, putting the pieces together of what you had missed and clutched your hand, which was bleeding profusely.

He cocked his gun at Fitz before saying, “I did warn you... it could be worse.” Davis’s body moved onto the railing.

You sat on the bottom step clutching your hand. “Don't! What are you doing to him?” You said.

“So brave. And so fragile.” He said before pulling herself out of Davis’ body and letting his fall to the floor.

“No! No!!” Everyone screamed as he landed with a loud thud. Everyone ran to Davis. You sat frozen in shock, your hand bleeding as you saw a man you’d come to consider a brother fall limp and dead. Once Deke could reach you, he grabbed onto you and pulled you into a hug as Izel possessed Mack.

He put the gun against his head, “Do not follow me. I'd hate for there to be more casualties.” He said before leaving the room.

•••••

Daisy and Elena got out of the office as May alerted the Lighthouse to the current situation. You couldn’t move, or breathe, you felt as if everything was about to explode. Deke was wrapping up your hand as Daisy and Elena left to find Mack. Deke took it upon himself to tell Fitz about the two of you, and he was really accepting, not that Deke thought he would be. May then called Fitz up to her to talk about Izel.

Deke looked at you, as you sat by Davis’ body with Piper, not knowing what to do. Deke made sure you were goo with Piper before he got up to talk with May and Fitz.

“You, okay?” Piper asked, you looked up at her with tears in your eyes. “I mean, I was his friend but you were like his sister.”

“It’s like losing my brother all over again.” You replied. “I never thought I’d lose him too.”

Piper put her hand on yours and pulled you into her side. “You’ve lost way too much. But, you and Deke, wow. Never saw that coming.” She said, trying to take your mind of it.

You smiled at the mention of Deke’s name, “Yeah, I used to think he was a complete idiot but now I don’t know what I’d do without him.” You said, looking up at Deke who was lost in conversation, you then looked back at Davis, “Davis knew. He was the only one. I had to tell him.”

“He loved you so much.” Piper responded.

You looked back at her, “He loved you too.” She nodded at you and you both just sat in silence for a while.

•••••

Once Davis’ body bag had been taken away, you had gone back to your room to be left alone with your thoughts until there was a knock at your door.

“Come in.” You whimpered. The door opened and Jemma entered with a bag, which she set on the table before shutting the door behind her. “Hi.”

“Hey, you okay?” She asked, opening her bag and taking stuff out. She beckoned you over to her so you went to sit on the couch and lifted your hand to her. Amidst the chaos, you’d almost forgotten about the whole in your hand. She unwrapped the bandage to see that the hole and started to shrink. “That’s nasty, but don’t worry. You heal fast.” She said. That was your power. You were a mutant and your power was fast healing, you could also help to heal other people but unfortunately not bring back the dead. “So,” Jemma started, changing the subject, “You and Deke, huh?”

You smiled, slightly, “He told you?”

“He did. He’s very worried about you.” Jemma said, cleaning your wound.

You flinched from the pain, “Of course he is. He’s the best.”

Jemma smiled, grabbing a bandage and starting to wrap your hand up, “He said that you’d asked to be left alone?”

“Yeah, I just, everyone’s busy working and I don’t think I can join them right now, you know, I miss Davis. It’s only been what thirty minutes but I miss him. I couldn’t do anything to help him. I couldn’t…” You confessed, trailing off as another flood of tears started to fall from your eyes.

“Maybe that’s why you shouldn’t be alone. You can’t blame yourself, Y/N.” She said, finishing the bandage and packing up her bag. “I’ll get Deke, then, yeah?” You nodded as she left the room.

You didn’t have to wait long before there was another knock at your door. Deke opened the door and came in, giving you a weak smile. “Nana said you wanted to see me.”

You nodded, another tear falling down your cheek. “Could you just come here, please?” You asked. He obeyed your request and sat down next to you. You laid your head on his chest and put your arms around his waist. He followed your lead and lent back on the couch, wrapping his arms around you.

“You know, when she was in you, I was so scared of what she’d do and then when she shot you… I felt like I couldn’t breathe.” Deke confessed, “I know it’s worse for you, though. With Davis. But he loved you, yeah. I saw how you two were. If I’m being completely honest, I was kind of threatened by him when I first met you. I liked you and I thought he did too.”

You smiled, “Thank you for being here, Deke. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Same here.” He started, “Today, I realised something, Y/N. Something important.”

“What?” You asked.

“I love you. I’m in love with you.” He stated, your eyes widened and you moved to look into his eyes, “My mum always used to tell me that I would just know, there’d be a moment. The moment I would know. That moment was when I saw you in danger and I couldn’t do anything. That was the moment I knew that I loved you.”

You smiled a little, “I love you too, Deke.”

[muesliforbreakfast]

the Last EVA of David Shaw

Another HFY story.

Fabian tactics pt. II and III hopefully coming soon.

We Lost the Sea - the Last dive of David Shaw

Inspired by the gallantry of David Shaw

As was tradition at a wake in the Scutum Sagittarius arm of the galaxy, Shaw's friends and family were intoxicated and inebriated, sharing drink and song and story of their best times with him. He didn't have much family, but Dee was a brother to him.

“From when we met I think we were always destined to be friends,” he began, with the attention of most of the alien attendees and a couple of humans firmly on him, “We were the only two mammalians on station so we had a lot of similar needs.”

He thought back to their first meeting, in the recreation hall of the orbital mining station; the station itself was just cold enough to be uncomfortable for both of them.

- - - - - - - - - -

“Cardio day?” The almost six foot human male asked Dee, as he stepped onto a treadmill.

“Yeah isn't it the worst?” Dee responded, from his elevated exercise wheel.

“The worst. But it's gotta be done. Enjoy man.”

The man ran for over a half hour, at a pace that Dee would never have been able to match. Which was to be expected, given that he was over six times larger.

By the time he was done Dee was stretching and doing calisthenics. They were the only workers in attendance that day.

“Does every human run that fast?” He asked, as the man approached the area set up for stretching, toweling off his hair that was drenched in sweat.

“It's our long legs. Name's Shaw.” He responded with a short bow.

“Drakhehz. Others call me Dee.”

“Dee it is then.”

- - - - - - - - - -

“That was the first time I saw a human run. Damn they run fast. And long.” Dee regaled them with the tale of their meeting, “He always used to call himself a gym rat. It took him a while to call me that; I laughed when I found out why, I mean us Dreyer look more like ferrets when you think about it.”

“It's hard to believe that humans can bond over something as simple as getting exercise together isn't it?” Katachine, another guest of another species said.

“Sure, that's how we met but it was more than that. We really got along. We had this spot where we would sit and have those long philosophical conversations.”

- - - - - - - - - - 

“What do you think it all means?” Shaw asked, reclining against the bulkhead, bottle of whiskey in hand.

“I think it means what you want it to mean.” Dee responded, sitting on Shaw's shoulder, with a smaller plastic flask of the same human whiskey. Strong stuff.

They were looking out into the abyss of the universe; light from a million stars travelling distances of a million years to finally rain gently on them in their repose.

“Well, tell me what that is?”

Dee thought for a while before finally responding.

“It's superstition and it's tied back to our history, how we were burrowing pack animals and what that meant to our evolution. In our religions the most important thing was community. On our planet we literally survive off the warmth of our community. We would never leave overnight, because none of us can survive alone. That idea lasted, well, we were already spacefaring when our society stopped believing it was more than a metaphor.”

Shaw sat patiently and listened, sipping whiskey straight from the bottle.

“Go on.”

“Well, we believe... We used to believe the same for our... Well we call it our Essence. That once we die we return with what we've seen and what we've known, and we're all stronger together for it. The idea is to go out and learn and finally return. We used to be burrowing animals, so the proverb in our culture is that none of us has to dig alone.”

They both gazed out into the emptiness and the vastness.

“Your turn.”

“Most of our superstitions brought meaning to our lives, but not to the universe. I'm still figuring it all out. Mostly I just treat others how I would like to be treated, and act the way I would like to be remembered.”

“That's a good rule.”

“On earth we call it the golden rule. Uh. Gold was rare and precious on earth. Uh. We used to use it for currency.”

“It's a great rule, I'm sorry to hear that people who followed it were so rare.”

Shaw had laughed uncontrollably at that.

- - - - - - - - - -

“We used to work out together and he was damn good at his job. But It's those other times which are how I'll remember him.” Dee finished, before quietly tittering, the involuntary expression of grief common in his species.

“To Shaw, and how he'll be remembered!” Katachine exclaimed loudly, lifting a glass of verdant liquid to the sky.

- - - - - - - - - -

“I remember the last time I spoke to him.” Smith said quietly, his slick amphibian skin glistening in the warm lights.

Smith had been sitting in his office in a panic, fielding requests and reports and the carrying out of emergency protocols, while trying to locate the last of his missing personnel.

“We have 73 accounted for, that means we're missing one... Who are we missing!!” He called over the holocom system.

That had been the moment that Shaw had burst in the room.

“Smith! We're missing Dee... Uh. Drakhehz. Last I saw him he was headed East towards the grounding pylons. I need you to clear me to head out to get him!”

Smith had stared at him blankly, frozen for a moment before exploding.

“ABSOFUCKINGLUTELYNOT!! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR DAMN MIND?!” he paused for a moment to calm himself, “I cannot risk you heading back out there with a solar flare AND A CORIOLIS STORM happening at the same time! I cannot lose more crew you understand? I can not, I will not!”

“Smith, are you aware of the situation?”

“Of course I am! I've read the reports!”

The unexpected solar flare had come at the worst possible moment; shutting down the auxiliary half of the shielding system while the primary half was down for maintenance. It had then destroyed the battery bank for the eastern sector of the gas mining station, before the coriolis storm had sheared all but three of the structural supports that held the station together. Micrometeors were occasionally peppering the unshielded portion of the station. Anyone caught there for too long was as good as dead, but for now the chances were still good that Dee was still alive.

The only way to reach Dee would be by EVA. Shaw explained his plan.

“That's MADness. Don't fucking do it!”

- - - - - - - - - -

Smith reflected on the last words he had said, before Shaw had left his office.

“I'm sorry Dee. If Shaw had followed my directives we would have left you to die.”

Dee was still tittering on his elevated cushion.

“... I... I understand. I can't hold it against you.”

The cruelty of randomness had ensured that Dee had made it out when Shaw hadn't. They had all heard his last words.

- - - - - - - - - -

“Little Dee! Little Dee! There you are!”

Shaw and Dee had their own little spot in the eastern sector. Where they kept the whiskey and biscuits, and some biltong for Shaw. He knew this would be the place to find Dee.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE ARE YOU CRAZY!! THERE'S NO WAY BACK!!”

“Relax ya little fuzzball, there's a way.”

Dee started nervously hyperventilating.

“There's no way back Shaw. You didn't need to come here and... Fucking... DIE with me.” He managed to say, breathing hard between words.

“Ease up fuzzball. We're gonna make it. How much air you got?” Shaw responded casually.

“I... Have... Twenty... Minutes...”

“Guess again little Dee.” He responded, turning to display three extra cylinders in Dreyer size, and one extra human sized cylinder.

Dee could feel optimism creep back into his psyche.

“So if we get the shields and grav repulsors up and running again we can ride out the storm and be retrieved as soon as they can get a rescue team out here.”

“Bad news. The battery array is totally fried.”

“Thought so. So we have to EVA out of here. Before the support pylons come apart. Those are some slim chances Shawdog. I don't like it.”

“Cheer up fuzzball. Two minutes ago your chances were zero. Now they're really slim. We're dealing with one crisis at a time today.”

“One crisis at a time. So what's our next crisis?”

“The fact that we're still here. Let's get out.”

Dee giggled elatedly. The plan was as simple as an EVA trip back to the shielded side of the station. It was risky, but not a death sentence.

They took a moment to have a snack, before hauling themselves along the lee side of the module in zero G. The work was easy, but the risk of micrometeors still weighed heavily on Dee's psyche.

They reached the spot where Shaw had secured the tethers, then took turns securing a tether each to their EVA suits.

They began their slow cautious climb across the span between the main station and the eastern sector.

“Shaw from rescue control! Shower of micrometeors impacting in less than a minute across your position over!” Smith warned over the radio.

“Not much we can do, keep moving!” Dee heard him call a half dozen meters behind him. Moving hand over hand across the gap, heartbeat pounding in his skull and his shallow puffs of breath filling his helmet. Every couple of meters he looked behind him to check on Shaw.

“Stop looking and move fuzzball!” Shaw called out over the radio, “Don't worry I know the way ba- FUCK!”

Shaw's words were punctuated by a thrumming vibration through the structural supports, but they still seemed to be intact. As Dee looked back he could no longer see Shaw, until he looked down and saw him falling away, featureless in the distance now.

“Reel in Shaw's tether!!” Dee called out.

“Keep moving, little bro.” Shaw responded.

Dee tittered as he moved frantically along the structural support, using the tether to pull himself along now and then, using pylons and poles at other times.

“Shaw this is rescue control,” the radio buzzed out, “We've retracted what's left of your tether. What is your trajectory? Over.”

“I'm drifting. I'm falling.” the response.

“NO!” Dee cried out. “We have to go get him! Shaw! We're coming for you!”

“Dee. I need you to listen to me.” He responded, in a calm, resigned voice.

“It's over. I'm not going to make it and you know it. I got you back to your clan little bro. Today that's what matters. You won't have to dig alone. Over.”

“It's not fair you moron! A life for a life isn't fair.” He cried out in anguish. “Fucking. Over.”

The sound of breathing came out over the radio as Shaw held onto the transmit button. After a few moments he spoke his last words.

“It's alright little Dee, I got my little brother out. I have a whole gas giant as my headstone. A hell of a monument. I can't see the stars anymore Dee. I'll see you on the other side. Shaw out.”

Dee kept climbing across the structure, tittering and sobbing as tears clouded his sight. Shaw had held onto the transmit button as he fell. His transmission ended before Dee could make it to rescue control.

He paused for a moment across the chasm.

“Good bye Shaw. And thank you. Over.”

Then he continued his climb to safety.

_________________

Too many of my stories are focussed on dudes who shoot and stab other dudes. It makes for good fiction, I guess, but not a good way to live. The story of David Shaw and Deon Dreyer isn't fiction. Some stories here focus on our pack bonding with other species, risking our lives for them etc. I find it absolutely mind boggling that this guy risked his life to make sure that another man might get a proper burial. But I wanted this story to have a happier ending than that one.