#andrew: ‘i got you a phone...so you could do this. this may be the worst thing i’ve ever done.’ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whoacanada · 4 years ago

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Zimmerbro AU

Summary: Andrew Phillip Rowe could skate before he could walk, and it wasn’t until he was almost twenty and well on his way to becoming a Las Vegas Ace before he knew why.

a/n: that’s right we’ve got a secret zimmermann brother au based on the fact that Bob was an active pro athlete for almost 15 years before Jack was born and almost definitely had relationships before Alicia. This particular one resulted in a secret love child.

When the call finally went out that year — a request for players willing to billet the incoming draftees — Andrew had been the first in line.

His already sparsely decorated guest room had been primed for a new tenant since he’d learned Las Vegas’ abysmal season had earned them the first pick of the 2009 draft. In his mind, Andrew had envisioned a tearful confession. A family reunion nineteen years in the making where he’d finally get a chance to connect with a half-brother he’d grown up learning about through news articles and stats pages.

He wasn’t ready for Jack to pull out of the draft days before the ceremony; wasn’t ready for the claims of an overdose or speculation about suicide attempts. He certainly wasn’t expecting to have to open his home to a young man with limp blonde hair and deep circles under his eyes with the same enthusiasm he’d promised he’d offer to a son of Bob Zimmermann.

Andrew was hoping for a little brother.

He got Kent Parson instead.

______

“You remind me of my boyfriend.” Kent slurs one night, completely gone on Johnny Walker Blue borrowed from Andrew’s wet bar. “It’s your . . . face.”

“Shouldn’t talk about things like that,” Andrew cautions gently, covering his own surprise. “Never know who might be listening.”

“Who fucking cares? He won’t talk to me,” Kent continues, ignoring him and sniffing like he’s on the verge of sobbing or puking, both options equally unwanted. “They wouldn’t tell me if he was even alive.”

Another unwanted puzzle piece locks into place.

“Jack?” Andrew suggests softly, and Kent begins to cry.

“You won’t tell right?”

Andrew shakes his head no, long enough for Kent’s bleary eyes to focus on the gesture and take it seriously.

Things are different, after that conversation. Not worse, or better, just different.

________

“He’s my brother.”

Andrew admits this one night, for no reason other than that he can.

Kent is across the room, backlit by lights from the Strip, his legs dangling off the arm of his favorite couch as he scrolls through his phone looking for distractions. Parse hasn’t lived with Andrew for almost two seasons, but he still turns up like a bad penny whenever he needs to commiserate with someone who knows his more lascivious secrets. Truthfully, Andrew’s grateful for the company. He’s a pretty genial guy, but he’s always kept his distance, a personality trait he likes to think he shares with an unassuming sibling, but there’s no way to know for sure. The farther Andrew gets from the 2009 Draft, the less faith he has in a reunion that won’t just bring crippling sorrow to everyone involved.

A secret Zimmermann son who actually made it in the NHL. Who has his name on the Stanley Cup, not once, but twice, largely thanks to the spitfire forward lounging in Andrew’s living room.

“Who’s your brother?” Kent asks, not looking up from his phone.

“Jack Zimmermann.”

Kent barks a laugh and rolls his head lazily to smirk at Andrew.

“That’s funny. I guess you kinda have the same chin. Was Marky digging for chirps?”

Andrew has no idea what that means, but he sets down his tablet and says, “No, he’s actually my half-brother. My mom dated Bad Bob in ’84 and got pregnant.”

The lackadaisical smile on Kent’s face falters as his gaze sharpens, like he’s actually looking at Andrew for the first time. Andrew responds by gesturing at himself lamely.

“That’s not funny.”

“No.” Andrew agrees. “It isn’t.”

Kent swings his feet down off the couch and braces himself against the overstuffed leather. He doesn’t look mad, but there’s something too close to disbelief for Andrew to convince himself everything’s okay. It takes a moment, but Kent must find what he’s looking for on Andrew’s face.

“Does Bob know?” Kent asks with that familiar overfamiliarity, as if they both still have some personal relationship with the living legend.

“Yeah. When Mom got pregnant she told him she didn’t want the attention since it was only a fling — ”

“Who the fuck doesn’t lock down Bob Zimmermann?” Kent breathes. “Also, why the fuck did she tell you that?”

“No shit, right? She got him to sign away parental rights, set up a trust, never spoke to him again as far as I know. I didn’t find out until after I signed with the Aces. She didn’t want me to get blindsided if it all came out, but the story never broke.”

“I mean, does Bob know who you are?” Kent questions. “Does Jack?”

Andrew shakes his head no, because he doesn’t think so, and Kent flops back against the cushions, face slack with disbelief; it doesn’t take long for his features to shift to anger.

“You knew this whole time and you didn’t tell me? Even after I told you —“

“Okay, there’s a whole-ass difference between you fucking dudes and and me being ‘Bad Bob’s bastard’,” Andrew bites, curtailing Kent’s imminent hissy fit. Appropriately, Kent closes his mouth, almost pouting.

“Fine. But that’s fucked.” Kent says after a loaded moment of silence. “I’m sorry you’re . . . you.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry you’re you, too.”

“You know Jack’s signing with the Falconers, right?” Kent offers like the worst kind of olive branch, unintentionally telling Andrew exactly what he was up to during that stretch of time between New England games a few months prior. “It’s not public but it’s happening. Ink’s dry.”

“I know. That’s why I told you. It’s gonna be weird,” Andrew swallows, thinking about playing Providence in the coming months.

“Fucking right it’s weird.”

_________

For the most part, the Las Vegas Aces are decent, stand up guys. Even with the accusations of gambling debts and mob connections with the ownership group, Andrew’s never been asked to hit a certain player a little too hard, or to take a dive so the other team gets a shot at a power play. A lot of talk, a lot of conspiracies, ‘Typical Aces hockey’, but there’s no malice. Not really.

Andrew thinks it’s hilarious he plays the game a lot like his estranged father, but he’s not a legend in the making, hell, at this point he’s barely regarded as more than a mid-level, reliable center that can bring home 40 points a season.

Carly whips behind Zimmermann’s back to clip his skate with a stick, dropping a ill advised chirp that sets every player in earshot on edge. Parse is close enough to catch the quiet slur, stiffening like he’s been hit, and Andrew watches Zimmermann recover quickly, steely and resolute.

Jack has his mother’s eyes — not the warm brown Andrew catches every time he looks in the mirror.

“He’s a fucking goon,” Andrew breathes, gliding up to Jack’s shoulder in lieu of an apology. Zimmermann doesn’t miss a beat, his gaze flicking to Andrew with the quiet rage of ‘who gives a fuck’. Andrew admires his commitment to the game. Coming back after so much, after so long, to willingly subject himself to the same kind of treatment that Andrew knows likely led to his original fall from grace.

“Hey,” Kent ducks his head as he slides up a little while later, mouthguard clenched between his teeth, and asks, “You see his twink?”

At Andrew’s obvious confusion, Kent jerks his head toward the glass behind the Falconers’ bench, to a raucous group of fans all sporting fresh Zimmermann jerseys. Andrew’s gaze drifts along the row of faces, lingering longer on the familiar, handsome couple beside the blonde young man. He may be imagining things — the stadium lights catching a bad angle — but for the briefest moment, Andrew holds eye contact with his father.

“He’s cute, right?” Kent says bitterly, like he doesn’t have a partner of his own back home.

“Yeah, he is. You gonna do anything about the slurs, Captain?” Andrew counters, earning a stern look from Parson.

“I’ll deal with Carly.”

“Oh, you will? Because I’ve never seen you shut him down before.”

“I’ll handle it.”

Kent’s expression goes stormy, and he gives Andrew a hard shove before skating off to set up for the next shift. To his credit, he does grab Carly by the arm and tell him something that earns a look of displeasure from the larger man, but Andrew knows a verbal warning won’t curtail someone as dead-set in his conservatism as Carly.

The next play, Carly flashes Andrew a toothy smile over the lineman’s shoulder, as if they’re in on the same joke, and his vision goes red.

__________

“Bad Bob’s outside,” Scraps rasps, like whatever brief interaction he’s just had has physically winded him. “He wants to talk to Flip.”

Andrew blinks up from the water bottle in his hands, previously concerned with the pink-stained gauze wrapped around his knuckles. A few of the guys start chirping, but most of them remain silent, still processing the fact that Andrew assaulted one of their own without clear motivation, in defense of an opponent.

“That’s what this was all about? You gunning for a trade?” Sorenson spits from his stall. “Needed to impress Bad Bob by beating the snot out of Carly?”

“Maybe I am,” Andrew sighs, pushing himself to his feet, wincing at the way his jaw aches from the few good hits Carly had managed to squeeze in before he went down. “What the fuck are you gonna do about it.”

_______

Andrew’s grateful he kept his skates on. He needs the boost of confidence that comes with the added height, especially when he finds Bob Zimmermann waiting patiently in the corridor like he’s just another staff member and not the second most recognizable figure in modern hockey.

“Hey kid,” Bob greets, casting an approving, overly-familiar eye over Andrew’s padded bulk and sweat-slick hair. “You can throw a hell of a punch. Don’t think I’ve ever seen a guy beat the piss out of a teammate before. Off ice, sure, but never during a game.”

His accent is just as thick in private as every interview Andrew’s ever caught live — but his tone is unexpectedly warm, even grateful — when Bob laughs at his own recounting of Andrew’s assault attempt, the sound is light and joyous like nothing in the world comes easier to this titan of a man.

Andrew wonders if Bob can recognize the chin they share beneath a his playoff beard; if there’s any resemblance left in a nose that’s been reset a half-dozen times.

Andrew grew up loved and never wanted for anything. His step-fathers, both of them, had been good men who never left him looking for a father figure. It wasn’t until his twenties that Andrew even realized there was hole where his bio-dad should have been, and not just a regular hole, a yawning sinkhole threatening to devour his entire sense of self, because his biological father turned out to be a man he grew up idolizing as a personal hero.

He’s not mad at his mother, but when Andrew struggles to find his voice — which is bullshit seeing as he’s almost thirty-five and a god-damned professional athlete — he can’t stop himself from feeling like a misplaced child.

“Do you,” Andrew swallows, looking over Bob’s shoulder to see if anyone’s watching them. Finding they’re alone, he rallies quietly, “Do you know who I am?”

Bob’s jovial expression softens into something remorseful, but unfathomably kind. “I do, buddy,” he acknowledges, somehow squeezing three decades of affection into one term of endearment. “I’ve known for some time, now. The whole time, actually.”

That hurts more than expected.

“Does your wife? Does Jack?”

Bob shakes his head, but it isn’t a hard no.

“Alicia knows, and Jack has some idea he’s got a half-brother, but it’s all in the abstract. No specifics. Definitely doesn’t know you play. I wanted to respect your privacy and your mother’s wishes. She let me know she’d told you the truth a few years back and I wanted to give you the space you needed if you decided to reach out. When you didn’t, well, a man makes assumptions.”

Andrew looks down at the concrete beneath his skates and sniffs hard, fighting nasal drip from the smelling salts he’d needed in the third period; or, at least, that’s what he tells himself. “I had a plan, back when — ” he stops himself, looking down at his skates. Bob’s eyebrows lift in curiosity, leaving room for Andrew to gather his thoughts, but he doesn’t take the bait, unable to bring up what could have been just yet. Bob seems to grasp the context after the moment.

“2009,” he acknowledges softly. “Hell of a year.”

“Yeah. It was. Is he okay?”

“What, Jack? He’s leagues ahead of where he was then —”

“No, I mean, tonight. Carly clipped him pretty hard before I got in there.”

“Oh, a little bruised up, but he’ll live. Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Okay.”

Andrew looks down at his bandaged fist and realizes he’s completely forgotten how gnarly his face must look.

“Trainer says I’m alright, but I’m gonna get leveled with a wicked fine, I know it.”

“Was it worth it?” There’s a look of guilty pride on Bob’s face, like the man’s enjoying himself a little too much when he leans in and whispers, “You just did something I’ve wanted to do since Jack was in mites. Fucking lay out one of those fuckers that’s got nothing better to do than bitch because they can’t play,” there’s a moment of hesitation, as if he’s worried about pushing a boundary, before he adds, “How’d it feel to look out for your little brother?”

Pride, it turns out, in contagious, and Andrew feels like he could go back on the ice and do it all over again. “Pretty fucking great,” Andrew can’t help a smile, wincing when the gesture pulls at his split lip.

Bob slaps a hand on Andrew’s shoulder pads, then gets a grip on the back of his head, heedless of his sweaty hair.

“Crisse, you’re a fuckin’ beaut, kid. I’ve wanted to tell you that for years.”

Andrew can’t blame the smelling salts anymore.

__________

Jack clearly doesn’t see his father standing there with red-rimmed eyes, or Andrew in an equally unkempt state, and has no reason to think anything untoward has happened when he offers a handshake and pulls Andrew into a hug, bouncing his free fist off the back of Andrew’s pads. “I owe you a drink,” Jack says decisively when he pulls back, shooting a grin between his father and Andrew. “Can’t believe you did that.”

“More than a drink, I think,” the blonde guy Andrew saw behind the bench pipes up. Jack’s ‘twink’. Boyfriend. Whatever. “Dinner at least.”

“A pie,” Bob suggests tightly, keeping his voice even as he turns to quickly scrub his fist over his eyes. Andrew recognizes the statuesque woman who strides up beside Bob, and one quick look tells him she definitely knows who he is.

“Hello, Andrew,” Alicia greets softly, genuinely. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” he says, the tightness in his throat coming out as gruffness rather than emotion. “This is great, but I should go shower and, uh, it was nice meeting you all.”

Bob’s hand whips out and fists the sleeve of Andrew’s sweater, keeping him in place.

“You have plans tonight?”

Andrew debates lying, because he doesn’t know how to move forward from this point, but they’re all looking at him. Waiting. Expectant. There’s too much at stake, and yet somehow — A sharp whistle drags Andrew’s attention back to the locker room. Kent is peeking his head out, and god knows how long he’s been eavesdropping.

“Yo, Zimmermanns. Bittle.”

“Parson.” The blonde says curtly, earning a wry smirk from Kent.

“Flip, we got a presser if you feel like putting a bow on the evening,” Kent’s gaze drifts to Bob’s flushed face, and he adds, “Or, you can shower and slip out the loading bay while I cover for your aggro ass because this is not going to be fun. Your call.”

Andrew looks at the small family surrounding him, his family, and says, “I don’t want to explain.” Kent shrugs and ducks back inside while Bob’s brow furrows in confusion. “I can do dinner, but I don’t want to,” Andrew holds his hands out in front of him, trying to gesture what he means, and Bob snaps his fingers in understanding.

“Ah, ha, I got you, kid.”

“Neat. I’m gonna go shower.”

“We will be here when you’re ready,” Alicia offers. “Take your time.”

“Oh, I will,” Andrew replies before he can stop himself, cringing the second his back is turned because what the fuck could he be any more awkward?

Time will tell.

_____________

#zimbits #jack / bitty #omgcp #check please #my fic #my stuff #lost zimmermann brother au #bob's got another kid and I named him andrew again!#kent is not a bad guy #only carly is a bad guy and we hate him #long post #because it's a mini fic!

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plutodexay · 4 years ago

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Peter Parker imagine

This idea was all over the place word count wise and my brain was very weird when I wrote it but I think its adorable. Also I can’t think of a title for the life of me sorry

This can be read as any Peter parker you want but just know my mind was filled with Andrew Garfield the entire time

(1351)

It was late, the moon was rising as the streets were silent with the occasional passing car roaring by as if speed limits don’t apply past midnight. That was the standard for this time of night, I think. This was not my usual midnight routine, normally I would be in bed or on the phone, not walking, by myself, at midnight, to my boyfriends house.

Peter’s place was only a thirty minute walk from mine, and it was almost always him coming over to mine. But he wasn’t answering his phone for the past few hours without saying goodnight, and he always says goodnight. He’s the one who makes sure its said, and I don’t think there has been a day I’ve known him where he fell asleep before me, so all of this was leading me to freak out. More than likely he would freak out because of me walking over here alone, but at this point I didn’t care.

I was only a few minutes into my walk when I saw the lights flicker in a building on my path, quickly after that a slam was heard inside the place. Stupidly, I walked closer trying to see what was going on, before I made eye contact with someone inside the building. They just stared at me while crashes continued happening around them.

I felt stuck, my eyes were glued to theirs, my heart was racing so fast I thought it was going to burst out of my chest. Their head was turning left to right as the lights started flickering once again, and flashes of red and blue started appearing behind them. Arm raising they tried to hit whatever was flying around them, yet every movement only resulted in more flashing before eventually the flash of red knocked him over, shaking out of whatever trace I had been stuck in I started running, it took me a second to remember which way was Peters before I ran with everything I had in me. I heard a few more crashes before I ran into something blocking my way and falling down.

“Are you alright?” A panicked yet familiar voice rang out, looking up at them I noticed it was the flash of red I saw before. There were a few scrapes and cuts covering his body, in a panic I looked back towards the building only to see no movement inside and the lights had stopped flickering. Looking up at the face before me is when I saw the mask.

“You’re spiderman” My voice came out in a whispered tone, cracking towards the end. They held their hand out towards me, motioning me to grab it. Doing so the masked person pulled me up ever so carefully. I could feel their hand shaking under the fabric of the suit, their whole body read panicked and I swore I heard their breath stutter for a moment.

They gave me a slight nod before looking me all over, presumably checking for any signs of injuries similar to the ones they had.

“What are you doing out this late” Their voice came out in a hushed tone, hand still holding mine and shaking while looking me straight in the eyes, almost as if they were personally concerned.

“I was walking to my boyfriends, he wasn’t answering so I wanted to make sure he was okay” I rushed out, the adrenaline of the entire past few minutes catching up to me.

Sirens started sounding off past the building, slowly getting louder and louder the longer we stood there. It wasn’t until the lights of the cars started to flash near us that the stare down we were somehow doing ended.

“Well alright then” They coughed all while making their voice obviously deeper than it was. “Just get there safe” Continuing to try and push the fake voice on me, they nodded stiffly before walking past me. I followed their path for a moment until they headed down an alley and the lights got even brighter.

Once again I started running towards Peter’s as the sirens got quieter behind me. I kept running until I got to the outside of his apartment building. Rushing inside I pushed the elevator button practically non stop until the thing finally opened. I could still feel my heart racing while I tried to stand still in the elevator only to realize I had yet to press his floor button.

Pacing back and forth as the elevator traveled up all I could think about was hugging Peter, and explaining to him all the chaos that just happened. What had happened though, was it a bank robbery? Some angry bank employees? The mafia?

Thankfully the doors opened before my thought process could get even more insane, I stared at the open doors for a moment before rushing out of them as fast as I could. Nearly slamming my head on a wall as I turned the corner. Peter’s apartment was already unlocked as I opened the door with the knowledge of Aunt May not being home so I didn’t have to worry about waking her. Going up to Peter’s bedroom I knocked on the door as many times as I could before he opened the door, which was extremely quick, almost as if he had been standing right behind it.

Looking up at him I noticed how tired he looked, the bags under his eyes were much darker than they normally are with how little sleep he gets. There was no small blush on his cheeks but rather just pale skin, paler than his already extremely pale skin. He was wearing an old sweater that practically fell off of him that he only wore when he was stressed.

I felt all the adrenaline leave my body when I looked at him, normally he smiled whenever I pulled something similar to this but tonight was different. Hell, he looked like he’d just lived his worst nightmare.

“What’s wrong?” The moment I spoke Peter cracked, lunging towards me he wrapped his arms around my torso as tight as he possibly could before burying his head into the crook of my neck. His chest was quickly rising and falling against my own as he continued to try and hold me harder.

Getting over the initial shock of the hug, I shot my hands around him. One going around his back and the other reaching to run through his hair in a calming manor. My hand kept getting stuck in the mess which held more to how bad he felt, everything about him just seemed so panicked.

“Missed you” He mumbled into my neck after standing in silence for however long passed by, arms still impossibly tight around me.

“I missed you too” I wanted to bring up how he was the one who didn’t answer my calls but ultimately decided against it given his state, and that he was hugging me so hard it simply hurt to talk to much.

“Was scared you got hurt, heard sirens” He mumbled once again, but this time he brought his face out of my neck to look at me, his hand reaching up and gently cupping my face and his thumb moved back and forth over my cheekbone.

“I’m alright I promise” I smiled at him before leaning up to kiss him, our lips touching ever so softly before parting once again.

We stayed staring at each other for a few moments before he moved his hand from my cheek to grab my own hand. Quickly he started pulling me towards his bed before falling onto it. Letting go of my hand, he stretched his arms out waiting for me to climb in between them. Laughing, I laid down in his arms and he wrapped the around me once again, kissing the top of my head whispering different affections over and over until soft snores started to leave his mouth.

It didn’t even come to mind to ask how he knew I was near the bank, or heard the sirens when they were nowhere near his place

Tag list: @venxaax @somber-starlight-wasteland

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 4 years ago

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🧰🔧PAUL IN BLUE OVERALLS🔧🧰

Prompt: One innocent sexual fantasy will lead Y/N directly into “Paul’s” faithful services.

Word Count: Long-ish

Pairings: Drew McIntyre x Reader

Warnings: +18, smut, sexual fantasy, roleplay, oral sex (female and male receiving), masturbation (male and female), cursing, name calling.

Tag: @akiko-tanaka , @blondekel77 , @marlananicole , @theworldofotps , @new-zealand-chic , @drew-is-boo

Notes: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU *clap, clap*. Today is @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan birthday and what better way to celebrate it than with a Daddy McIntyre smut? This whole idea came from one (of the many) conversations Des and I have, she casually mentioned this and I wanted to use it as a birthday gift to her for being such an amazing friend to me 🥰 Thank you Des, for everything and here’s to many more smutty birthdays yet to come 🥂😘. Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories on my Masterlist if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) and my newest story as a fixed post. Okay,now let’s get to the fun part, shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

“Tell me one secret fantasy you have” Drew smirked

“If I tell you then it’s not a secret anymore is it?” I smugly smiled

“C’mon, Y/N! What’s wrong with you telling your husband a fantasy that you have?”

“I don’t have any” I lied

“Bullshit, everyone has it! And I find it hard to believe that you don’t have any with the amount of sex we have” He smirked

“Ok fine, I have it!”

“Ha! I knew it!” Drew proudly grinned

“But I won’t tell you”

His grin faded away “Why?”

“Because no, Drew” I start to scroll through my phone pretending to do something important

“I know you’re using your phone to avoid me, you know?!” He cackled

“Tell me one of yours then” I say, refusing to talk about my fantasy

“I always tell you my fantasies, woman!”

“Well-“ I start, but Drew interrupts me

“And you always make them come true so why don’t you tell me yours so I can do the same? Y/N, my love. We’re married for fuck sake! Why are you acting like a peasant girl who’s ankles I just saw?” He chuckled and I huffed

“C’mon princess, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s just me, love” He coos

“Promise me you won’t laugh?”

“I promise. Scouts word” He crosses his chest

“Ok, so I... I always thought about you know...I always wanted to fuck a porn star. But, those trashy ones, with the cheesy lines, like where the guy is a plumber or a construction worker or even the gardener” I can feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment

The room is silent, too silent. So I look up at Drew to find him struggling to hold back a laugh but failing completely when he meets my eyes

“You promised me you wouldn’t laugh!” I got up from the couch to leave the room, but Drew was faster, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards his lap

“No! I don’t want to talk to you! I’ll never tell you anything ever again Andrew!” I fight to free myself from his hand, but it was pointless. He successfully made me sit on his lap

“I’m not laughing at your fantasy love, I’m laughing at your reaction to it” He chuckled

“Shut up!” I bitterly said

“You looked so cute, all embarrassed like that because of a pretty simple fantasy. My peasant girl” He teased

I look at him with a frown and a pout

“Awww, don’t make that face, love. I could never laugh at you, you know that” Drew smooch me “Why haven’t you told me before?”

“Because it’s dumb and embarrassing!” I mumbled

“No it isn’t!” He hugged me tighter “It’s a simple fantasy. It shouldn’t take us long to put it together and-“

“We’re not doing it!” I cut him off

“Why not?”

“Because” I sigh “I’m gonna feel stupid doing it and it will turn me off” I lied so maybe he’ll let it go

“Y/N, baby c’mon, don’t be so grumpy” He tries to convince me “There’s no reason for you to feel ashamed, love. We’ve done way worst than that!” He lightly chuckled, trying to lift my mood up

“Can we drop it for now?” I look into his piercing blue eyes “Please, Drew?”

“Ok, ok...I dropped it” He reluctantly said as he caresses my thigh

ONE WEEK LATER

“You have got to be fucking kidding me” I muted under my breath

“Drew?” I call

“Yep” He peeks through the door

“This damn thing is leaking” I pointed towards the en suite bathroom faucet

“Oh shit, that’s why I heard some water dripping last night”

“Really babe?” I ask exasperated

“What? I thought it was one of the cats!”

I rolled my eyes “I already tried everything and it won’t stop. We have to call a plumber”

“Ok, I’ll call one”

I give a little tug on his t-shirt, a sign for him to lean down so I can kiss him “Thank you. I have to go or I’ll get late” I kiss him again

“Ok. Oh, I may not be here when you come back. I‘m gonna work out in the afternoon”

“Ok baby, have a nice day” I smiled

“Oh I will, love. And you will too” He smirked

And I make my way downstairs utterly confused with what Drew just said.

......................................................................

I got home from work and Drew, faithful to his word, wasn’t there. I make my way upstairs to our bedroom so I can take a shower and relax, when the sight of a pair of black worn out boots and blue overalls made me stop at the foot of the bed.

A man had his face tucked into the underside of the sink, while his hands fidget with the siphon. The position of his hands made impossible for me to look at his face.

*I can’t believe Andrew left a stranger alone in our house! I’m gonna kill you Drew* I thought

I was growing a little nervous to be alone with this strange man at my house. He was huge! Tall and broad and a part of me got a little intimidated by it, but I swallowed my fear and asked

“Excuse me, sir?” I voice was trembling

He grunts in response

“I’m sorry, I- I don’t mean to interrupt your work but could you please tell me when are you going to be done?” My voice was still shaky

“I don’t know, it depends” He answer with a thick foreign accent

“Depends on what, sir?” I murmured

“If the lady will want the complete service” He got up from the floor and my mouth dropped

“ANDREW, YOU FUCKER! YOU SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME!” I yelled

“Name is Paul, miss” He comes closer

“This is not funny, you know? Jesus Christ, I thought you left a stranger here by himself. And I was scared as fuck, thinking I would be alone with this random man at home..” I trail off as he stopped in front of me

“Will you want the complete service, miss?”

“Complete service?” I mumbled

He only smirked

“What is the complete service?” I whispered

“Well, I can help you with your wetness situation” Drew tilts his head to the side to stare at my ass “It will only take a long, thick and hard pipe” He grabs a handful of his bulge

And I couldn’t help but laugh

“Drew, don’t be ridiculous, lo- Oh shit!” I gasp in surprise with his hand laying forcefully against my ass cheek

“I already told you the name is Paul, miss”

He was so into this roleplay thing that I decided to not be the cock block and play along.

“Look, Paul” I begin and he happily smiled “I don’t know what services you want to offer but, I’m married” I pointed to my wedding ring

“I’m not jealous” He smirked

“But he is” I respond

He shake his head “He will only be if he finds out. I’m not gonna tell him, are you?” The determination upon his gaze was, to say the least, lustful.

“I’m not gonna tell him, because nothing will happen” I play hard to get

“Are you sure?” He tilted his head to stare at my backside once more “I’ve seen that pathetic excuse of what you call husband and I’m absolute certain he can’t handle all of that” He points with his chin to my ass

“He can” I weakly said

Drew arched his eyebrow “Can he though? Are you trying to convince me or yourself of that, sugar?” He cackled “You see, to me, it looks like you need a real man to fuck you, to ruin you, to make a good use out of that sweet pussy” He grabbed his erection through the fabric, easily taking a handful “And I’m a real man sweetheart” He took my hand, making me cup his hard on “This cock will fill you up in ways you never thought it was possible before. It will make you forget about that pitiful husband of yours. This dick will make you feel like a real woman being fucked by a real man, it will make you feel so fucking good you will never want him to touch you again” He smirks

And all I can do is squeeze his length in consent.

Drew quickly undressed me, tossing me onto the bed as he pulled the overalls down his torso painfully slow. The vision of his dark hair laying around his broad shoulders, his bare chest and abdomen with the upper part of the overalls around his hips made me moan

“Fuck babe, you look so fucking hot like that! I’m one lucky bitch!” I murmur, making him lowly growl and attack my lips in a famished kiss

Drew traveled his lips along my neck, collarbone, top of my breasts and nipples.

He holds both breasts on his hand, squeezing them together so he can fastly go from one nipple to the other.

He licked, sucked and lightly scraped his teeth on each bud, kneading the soft flesh underneath his palms and fingers with gentle yet firm touches.

He roamed down to my mound. Reaping my lace panties apart so he can stare at my leaking core.

“Look at this beautiful pussy” Drew gave me a long lick “Are you dripping like this just from playing with your tits, love?”

I nod “Yeah, because you’re so fucking good at it”

He smirked and placed a gentle kiss on my clit, making me whine.

“You’re so responsive, I love that” He gives me some kitten licks before continuing “I bet that jackass husband of yours never eats this pussy, does he?”

I shake my head, making Drew click his tongue in disapproval.

“What a shame, love. Such a beautiful, sweet, wet pussy just waiting to be eaten” He gave me a long teasing lick “Would you like that, princess? Would you like me to eat your pussy until you cum all over my mouth?”

“Yes, please” I panted

Drew stepped back to get rid of the overalls and underwear. He slides his length along my folds to collect some of my wetness so he can touch himself as he eats me out.

He kneels down on the floor, pulling me closer to the edge of the bed by my hips, Drew closed one fist around his cock and pumped up and down as his mouth closed around my clit, making me roll my eyes to the back of my head.

I moan and he growls, my growing need for release becoming unbearable until...he stops.

“What the fuck?” I faintly asked as I see him kneeling down on the bed.

I was feeling confused, until I felt two of his fingers sinking into my core as his palm rested against my clit, slightly pressing into it.

Drew pulled me by my hair until my lips were on his cock, making me open my mouth so he can slide in.

I hummed in pleasure from both his taste and his fingers pace. The slapping sounds of his fingers and palm against my pussy was pornographic.

I bob my head faster and apply more pressure into his cock’s head making him moan my name loudly.

“Fuck, stop Y/N, stop damn it!” Drew yanked me off of him with a hard tug on my hair

He got up from the bed, pulled me down by my ankles and fastly turned me onto my stomach. I feel his weight on the mattress behind me as he places himself between my legs, quickly entering my core with one hard thrust.

“Oh fuck” I whine

Drew grabs two handfuls of my ass, keeping me in place while he mercilessly pound me. He leaned down, pressing his cheek to mine

“You like being fucked like this don’t you?” He grunted “You love being such a good little whore for me, right princess?”

“Yes, sir”

“Say it!”

“I love being such a good little whore for you, sir” I panted

Drew smacked my ass and placed both of his hands around my neck to both to use it as leverage for his thrusts.

“Who’s fucking this pussy so good, huh?”

“You are, sir”

“And what does a good whore says, Y/N?”

“Thank you, sir” I mumbled

“That’s right, baby” He chuckled

Drew hits my g-spot making me scream

“Oh fuck, it feels so good. You’re fucking me so good, sir! Oh please, don’t stop. Thank you, sir...thankyouthankyouthank” I babble

“You’re gonna cum, Y/N? That’s why you’re clenching so good around my cock baby?”

I nod as much as I can “Please, sir. Let me cum, I beg you” I whined

“You’re look so beautiful, princess. So fucking precious. Cum, love”

I feel numb, almost in an outer body experience from the orgasm ecstasy as I feel Drew release in me. He’s growls and grunts only making the post orgasmic bliss last longer.

I feel him carefully pulling out of me and a few minutes after the warm washcloth cleaning me up.

When he lays down on the bed by my side I mumbled half asleep

“You’re something else, Scotsman”

Drew laughs pulling me up so I can rest my head on his chest.

“The idea was yours, princess”

“But you executed perfectly” I coo

“Well, thank you” He cackled “Was this enough to make you lose your embarrassment to tell me your fantasies?”

“Mhm, if this is going to be the final outcome, I’ll make sure to write them down so you can perform each and every one of them”

“I would like that, love” He chuckled lightly, kissing my forehead as I swim into a deep slumber

Dreaming of a certain plumber named Paul....

Please let me know your thoughts on this and leave me some feedback if you’re comfortable with it 🥰😘

#drew mcintyre imagine #drew mcintyre smut #drew mcintyre fanfic #drew mcintyre x oc #drew mcintyre x reader #drew mcintyre one shot #drew galloway #drew mcintyre #wwe x reader #wwe smut #wwe imagine #wwe fanfiction #wwe one shot #masochist writes

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madswritingvoid · 4 years ago

Text

Afternoon Delight

Pairing: Max Phillips x f!reader

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: 18+ SEE YA MINORS, smut but like soft smut, oral sex (m), masturbation (f), unprotected p in v sex, cockwarming, blood, vampire stuff, Max Phillips is a warning lol

A/N: Yes I 100% think Max would want his name in your phone to be Vamp Daddy and no I will not be taking questions about it at this time. BUT here’s another smut piece about my vampire husband, because I love him.

(Tagging @jettia because apparently she likes pain and wanted to read this if I ended up posting it)

Max Phillips is annoying. Not a joke, or an exaggeration, just a fact. He’s smarmy, sleazy, sneaky, manipulative, seductive, exhausting, and all yours. As much as his “management style” (re: turning everyone into vampires), may seem unethical or out-of-the-box, he really knew how to turn a company around. Surprisingly, when he isn’t being a total frat boy asshole, he’s also a pretty awesome boyfriend.

Yeah, sometimes you gotta remind him that no Max that isn’t funny or say that again and it’s a stake to the heart and the dick, but overall you know you love him and he loves you. He’d kill for you, literally. So when you hadn’t received your morning “show me your boobs, babe” wake-up text, you knew something was up.

With his cocky attitude and air of self-assurance, you’ve never seen anything really make Max sweat. Not until two nights ago when he said his bosses, the big bag vamps, were coming down for a branch visit today. You glance over at your phone to check the time and saw it was almost lunchtime for you both and decide to shoot him a quick text.

You: I know yours came in today but how’s my big bad vamp doing? xxx

Vamp Daddy🧛🏻‍♂️: :(((((((((((((

You: Is someone in the need for......

Vamp Daddy🧛🏻‍♂️: yes

You: an afternoon delight?

You: You could have let me finish, but okay.

Grateful you were working from home today, you sent off a final email and decided to take a half day, knowing Max would really need some help to relax.

You slinked off to your bedroom and changed out of your work-appropriate but very casual matching sweat set to slip into one of Max’s favourite sundresses you have- a deep cranberry with black lace around the bottom and on the chest highlighting your boobs, Max’s favourite, and the length hitting just above your knees made it “easy access” in his words. You keep your natural Zoom meeting makeup on and opt for a quick swipe of your favourite deep red lipstick to match the dress, ready to make Max’s afternoon.

Walking into the familiar office building you can immediately feel the energy is off. Not that it wasn’t always weird, since almost everyone in here was dead, but today it was even worse. Too quiet, too cold. You almost wanted to crack a “jeez, who died?” joke to lighten the mood, but you got the feeling today was not the day and walked right into Max’s office.

“Awww baby, what’s all this?” You coo as you glide over to him. What a sight he is. He’s sitting in his big office chair with his head right on the desk, long arms splayed out in front of him making his big hands hang over the desk’s edge. A total look of defeat. Hearing your voice Max’s head shoots up and immediately you’re hit with a classic Phillips pout, puppy dog eyes in full effect. “Baaaaabe,” he whines while making grabby hands at you until you’re finally within reach.

Pulling you into his lap, he buries his face in your neck, rubbing his nose up and down the column of your throat as your hands make their way into his hair, massaging his scalp. “Maxie, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” You’re only met with a heavy sigh as he takes his head and burrows between your boobs, “Everything,” he mumbles against your chest. “They loved my presentation, but hated the office,” he grumbles.

“Well, that’s easy to fix, we can go out this weekend and get some new decor to liven up the place,” you grin and start really going to town on his scalp making Max almost purr and lean into your touch more. Before you could offer more support he started shaking his head, motorboating you but you could tell his heart wasn’t in it.

“No babe,” he sulks, finally lifting his head up to meet your eyes again, “they hated everyone in the office. Said Andrew was weird and Dave had an ‘offputting’ quality. He’s dead! Almost all of us are dead! What do they expect? And that’s not even the worst part!!!” He moans, “he hated everyone, but liked Evan?” You actually gasp, no one likes Evan. He’s so mopey and annoying, especially after Max bounced back from Evan almost murdering him, showing up to work the following Monday as if nothing happened. “Oh baby, that doesn’t make any fucking sense, I’m so sorry,” you soothe him as your hands move from his hair and start to make their way down to his belt.

Realizing what you’re doing, Max’s whole mood changes. Smirking, he puts on a much more playful pout, “yeah baby,” he coos, “it’s been real hard. But now that you’re here something else has got real hard too, and I think I know how to fix that.” You slide off his lap and onto the floor quickly, Max lifting you up for a moment to slide his now folded suit jacket under your knees in a surprising moment of kindness. Pressing a kiss to his knee as a thank you, you make quick work of his belt and pants and pull out his hardening cock. As you begin to stroke him slowly you make eye contact and spit right on his dick, making him groan.

“Love you baby, let me make you feel good,” you say before taking the tip of his cock in your mouth, swirling you tongue around him and licking the salty precum that was already leaking from him. As you continue to work more of him into your mouth, you can feel Max absolutely melt into his leather chair and take whatever you give him. “That’s it baby, always so so good, always know what I need,” he praises and you moan around his length, the compliment going straight to your core.

Not being able to take it anymore, you snake the hand not pumping the part of him you can fit in your mouth, you slide your hands underneath your underwear and start circling your clit. You moan around his length again and Max slightly bucks his hips, sending him farther down your throat. “Fuuuuuck yes, sweet cheeks, that’s it,” he can’t stop it now as his hips start a shallow bit steady rhythm as he fucks into your mouth. Letting him take what you need you slide two fingers into your dripping pussy, using the heel of your hand to keep rubbing your clit while you pump your fingers.

The only sounds filling the office are Max’s groans and the wet noise of you fucking yourself on your hand. You can tell Max is close because his pace quickens and you can hear the chair arm rests groan under his tight grip until he gives one final thrust, shooting his load right down your throat. Making sure you don’t waste a drop, you continue softly sucking the tip of him as you start to chase your own high until Max uses his vampire speed and strength to take your hand out of your underwear and move you back into his lap. You whine at the loss of your orgasm and stare with lust filled eyes as Max takes the hand that was just inside you and cleans your fingers of the slick covering them.

“Now sweets, you’ve been so good to me, I figured letting you cum on my cock would be an appropriate thank you,” booping your nose he gives a little tug to rip your panties right off and sink you down on his still hard length. Your eyes roll back and you let out a high pitched moan at the stretch, you were already so wet from earlier he was able to push in with no resistance. “There it is champ,” he chuckles, “here’s your reward.” Putting his hands firmly on your hips he starts to move you up and down on his length, his hips meeting you with each thrust. All you can do is throw your arms around his neck to hold on, chanting his name as he hits that sweet spot over and over.

“Had s-such a bad day baby,” he growls, “but this- this pussy always does the trick,” you clench at the praise causing him to thrust a little harder. Knowing your so close to falling over the edge, you decide to give Max another treat, “B-baby,” you whimper, “f-feels so good. I’m so close, b-bite me,” his hips stutter before his pace resumes again. Grabbing your jaw he makes you meet his eyes and asks, “fuck, I love you, but are you sure? You don’t have to-” he groans as you clench around him again, your walls fluttering as the coil continues to tighten. “Yes! Fuck,” you babble, “I’m gonna come baby please,” you run your fingers through his hair and pull his face into your neck.

Feeling how much you’re gripping his length, Max licks across your pulse point and gives the area a little kiss before sinking his teeth into the soft skin. Once you feel his fangs break through, the coil snaps, and you absolutely gush all over his cock. You continue to moan as Max works you through your high as he continues to drink from you. Tugging on his hair twice to tell him to stop, Max stops thrusting into you and licks over the bite marks, his spit healing them instantly. Kissing your neck again you hear a mumbled, “thank you baby,” as Max wraps his arms around you.

You sit there for what feels like forever, him still seated inside of you while you go back to massaging his scalp. Noticing the time you attempt to get up, “Max! Honey, your lunch break has definitely been over I should go home,” his grip tightens around you as you get hit with puppy dog eyes again. “You could go home,” he agrees, “or you could just stay right here with me inside of you while I finish this report. I’m the boss, I can always leave early for my baby,” he gives your ass a gentle slap causing you to clench around him again. Groaning, he leans down to press a kiss to your temple, “besides I’ll definitely want to have you at least one more time before we go. Why don’t you have a little nap on big ol’ me?” He jokes, but you can’t bring yourself to make a come back, already feeling your lids grow tired from what just happened.

Nuzzling into his neck, you give his skin little kisses, “sounds good baby,” you slur, “sounds real good.”

#max phillips x you #max phillips x y/n #max phillips x reader #max phillips #bloodsucking bastards #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagines

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reidingandwriting · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter Three: “Your Obedient Servant”

“You’ve kept me from the room where it happens for the last time.”

Word count: ~2450 words

Warnings: Shitty parent, verbal abuse from mother, language, bullying, brief mention of alcohol, mention of guns, implied murder, typical Criminal Minds-esque details towards the murder but nothing graphic.

Characters mentioned: Neutral!Reader, Jennifer “JJ” Jareau, Aaron Hotchner

Original characters: Reader’s mother and father, Este and her family, Lara, Andrew Walker, and Abby.

Mentions of: David Rossi, Erin Strauss, and Penelope Garcia

A/N: And here we are! Chapter three! I think I have marked all warnings but if there are any I’ve missed, please feel free to let me know! As always, feedback is always appreciated. This chapter is kind of background of reader focused and I’m so sorry for that. I hope y’all can enjoy anyways and enjoy the turn made towards bringing everyone in. Next chapter will fully bring the team in and I’m excited! That’s enough out of me, enjoy the chapter!

Previous chapter

Next chapter

Eight years old…

“What in fresh hell are you doing?” A voice came from your doorway, one that belonged to your mother. You didn’t look up from where you laid on the floor, a colored pencil in your hand and a coloring book was spread out in front of you. Your room was illuminated by the lamp on your bedside table, it being well past your bedtime.

“Coloring. Couldn’t sleep.” Footsteps got louder as your mother approached and you flinched as she snatched the book up.

“What time is your bedtime?”

“Eight-thirty.” She cleared her throat. “Ma’am.”

“And it’s midnight. So your ass should be where?”

“But I wasn’t making any noise.” Your eyes met your mother’s and her harsh glare made you look back down. “In bed.”

“That’s right.” She grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet, and you tried not to wince. “If I come check on you and catch you out of this bed again, you’re gonna be in so much trouble, kid.”

“But what if I can’t sleep?” You asked as you climbed back into your bed.

“You’ll fall asleep eventually.” Your mother turned off your lamp, the warm glow of the room now being replaced by total darkness. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Your mother walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her. You listened for a minute to make sure she was really in bed before you pulled your stuffed animal to your chest and screwed your eyes shut.

“Unfortunately.”

Sixteen years old…

“Happy birthday, kiddo. The big sixteen.” You smiled as you held your phone, sat on the bench outside of school as you waited for your mom to pick you up. Your dad was on the other end of the phone, and you had to admit you missed him. “Still up for your visit this weekend?”

“Are you? You pulled a Mom and bailed on me last time.” Your words could sound harsh to anyone passing by, but there was no malice behind them, just a teasing smile. And you could practically hear your dad rolling his eyes.

“Brat.”

“Yours truly.”

“I promise, nothing will stop me from seeing you this weekend. It’s not every day your only child turns sixteen.” A sigh from the other end makes your heart clench. “I miss you, kid.”

“I miss you too, Dad. I can’t wait to see you.” “Ditto.” Muffled voices were heard in the background before your dad spoke again. “I have to go, but I expect to hear all about your birthday extravaganza Saturday.”

“You mean my trip to the bookstore with Este and dinner with her family? Mom’s too busy with her new fu-”

“Uh uh. It may be true, but don’t finish that sentence.” You could hear the smile in your dad’s voice, mixed with irritation. “I love you, sunshine.”

“I love you, Dad. See you Saturday.”

“See you then.” You hung up and tucked your phone into your pocket, opening the book that sat in your lap to read as you waited for your mom to pick you up from school.

You were delved deep into your book, the sound of the athletes practicing in the nearby fields fading into silence as you let yourself become entranced in your book. You didn’t notice the looming shadow of Lara standing over you.

“Well, thanks, Y/L/N! I’ve been looking for a new book.” You jumped when you heard her voice. She snatched the book from your hands and you reached for it, but she was quicker.

“Give it back!”

“Really? David Rossi?” Lara scoffed and tossed the book over her shoulder where it landed in a pile of mud by the sidewalk we were on. “Whoops.” Lara walked past you, her shoulder knocking harshly into yours. “It’s too easy with them.” Lara said to herself and you ran to your book, and your eyes watered as you knelt down to pick it up, the book being covered in mud.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.” You whispered to yourself as you held the book and tried your best to wipe the mud off it. You sighed in resignation and walked to the trash can a few feet away and set the book in. You were going to the bookstore tomorrow, you could replace it then.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when a car honked and you looked up, noticing your mother’s car. “Come on, we’ve got places to be.” Your mother yelled from the open window and you nodded.

“Coming.” You called out and jogged over to the car, throwing your backpack into the backseat before you got into the passenger seat.

“What’s wrong with you?” She gestured to your red eyes before she noticed your dirty hands. “Gross, how old are you?” She slapped the back of your head and you digged for napkins in the glove compartment while apologizing repeatedly.

“I’m sorry. Lara threw my book in the mud and I tried to save it.”

“Those were weird books anyways. She did you a favor.”

Twenty-two years old…

“Look at our college graduate, Jess.” Este’s father, Phil, smiled from the head of the table. “Look out, world, you’re not prepared.”

“I will not be taking over the world until Y/N is. They still have one year to finish their master’s degree. So I’m taking a gap year. Maybe I’ll go husband hunting.”

“Or, you know, do something that’ll look better on your job applications.” Este’s sister deadpanned.

“Where’s the fun in that?” You nudged Este with your foot and gave her a playful warning look. Este stuck her tongue out at you and you mirrored her expression.

“I wish Y/N would have majored in the same thing as you, Este.” Not even fifteen words out of your mother and the whole atmosphere was brought down. Why couldn’t she be with Joe? Jonah? J-something. “Instead of aiming for the FBI, where you’re not even guaranteed a job.”

“Which is why I majored in criminology. Minored in digital forensics. And I’m earning my masters in forensic psychology.” You responded, not sparing her a glance.

“And if you still don’t-”

“I think my credentials will be impressive regardless.” You paused as the waitress stopped by, setting everyone’s plates down. You thanked her as she left, before looking at your mother. “Even if I don’t immediately get offered a job, I don’t mind. I can work my way to the FBI. I don’t get bored of something within a month.” Bella’s eyes widened and Este smirked to herself as she took a sip of her drink.

“I would sure hope not! College would have been a bad idea if you couldn’t work at something for a month.” Jessica, Este’s mother, tried to joke but your mother was relentless.

“I hope you fix your personality before you apply or they’ll never let you in through the door.”

“You don’t like it? I learned from you.” Your mother stood from her chair, the chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“I’m done.”

“Drive safe.” You called out to your mother’s retreating form and rolled your eyes as you turned to Este. “Drinks?”

“Drinks.”

Twenty-five years old…

“So, you’re about halfway done with your training at the Academy.” You sat across from your field counselor, Abby. “How have things been?”

“Andrew and I had some… creative differences with firearms training.”

“Creative differences?” Abby asked and you thought back to the day.

You had missed the vital shots multiple times, and you and Andrew both were getting irritated at each other. What was meant to be motivating turned snarky, which had started to turn condescending. You started off getting close to your vitals, and with each negative comment, your concentration turned to frustration which led to further off shots.

“If you could make these three shots so I can leave, that would be great. Come on, how are you going to ace rifle training but not handgun? I might as well talk to our program director and tell her your future in the Academy and FBI is a deadend. But if she ever needs a sharp-shooter…” And something snapped inside you, and you shot the five targets in front of you perfectly. Alternating between head and chest shots, straight in the middle. Bullseyes. You turned to face Andrew, walked towards him and set your gun in his hand.

“You may leave now.” You walked towards the doors of the firing range and called out. “See you tomorrow.”

“I see.” There was a hint of a smirk on her face as she spoke. “You know you can’t let people get to you like he did. It may have benefitted you this time, but there will come a time where you’ll reach your breaking point and lose your temper at your superior and risk your job.”

“You know about my parents, it’s kind of genetic.” You sighed. “But I will work on it. I know I need to.”

“Good. And I’ll have a word with Andrew about his motivational methods.” You let out a laugh before your session continued.

Thirty-one years old…

You sat in Hotch’s office and your body language screamed ‘angry.’ Your arms were crossed over your chest, your foot tapped against the floor, and if that wasn’t enough, the saying if looks could kill truly applied to you right now. If looks could kill, Aaron Hotchner would be a pile of dust in his chair. But like usual, Hotch’s body language was as usual. Professional, stoic, cold. He’d warmed up to the rest of the team, surprising you that he wasn’t truly emotionless after all. But that persona never came out around you. All that came out was indifference at best. Disapproval at worst, often paired with anger. Disappointment. That’s all you’d ever be, huh?

You had been called to Hotch’s office after you got back from your latest case. You’d never seen Hotch as mad as he was then. To anyone else, it might seem like he got mad because he cared about you and your wellbeing. But that was not the case today. You didn’t follow his orders, and now you were to pay the consequences.

“I am slow to anger, but I toe the line as I think about the effects of your choices on the team. I look back on where we failed, but in every place I checked, the only common thread?”

“Let me guess, me?” You interrupted.

“Your disrespect.” Hotch narrowed his eyes at you.

“You call me inexperienced, a danger to the team.” You leaned forward as you began to speak.

“Agent, if you’ve got something to say-” You raised your hand, cutting him off.

“Name a time and place, face to face. Then we can really talk.” You rested your hands on his desk, matching the expression he was giving you.

“That is enough, Agent Y/L/N.” Hotch spoke after a minute of your stare-down, and you settled back into your seat.

“I’m just an agent, trying to do my best for our team. I don’t want to fight but I won’t apologize for doing what I believe was right.”

“Careful, Y/N, or it’ll be the end of your career at the BAU. Not mine.”

“I won’t apologize for my actions, if that’s what you’re looking for.” You shrugged.

“Then be prepared to meet with me and Strauss tomorrow morning to discuss your placement on this team.” Hotch leaned back in his chair.

“Are you fucking serious? Every agent on this team has gone against orders. Even you have given the middle finger to direct orders several times. I make one call that goes against your orders, one that allows us to save the hostage and take in the unsub, and now you’re threatening my career?” You scoffed and looked your boss in the eyes as you stood up. “Unbelievable.”

“Nine sharp, agent.” Hotch kept eye contact with you as he spoke.

“Oh, I have the honor to be your obedient servant, sir.” You turned on your heel and stormed out of the office, slamming the door as you left.

Today…

You sat outside Andrew Walter’s house, lying in wait. Andrew lived in Baltimore now, having quit his job to work at a local FBI field office. You think a federal agent would have been more private about his life; it didn’t take Penelope Garcia to figure out where he worked. Where he lived. You had been waiting for the perfect moment to revisit him, and now you had it. Now was all waiting for the window of opportunity to hit. The window to open just enough for you to seize your chance and show him what all you had become since you graduated from the Academy.

The last light flickered off in his home and you looked down the street. No cars moving, no sounds of laughter or conversations could be heard from your spot. It was almost eerily silent, but there was a rush of an unknown emotion flooding through you. You tucked your gun into your waistband, snapping your gloves into place, and adjusting your hood over your hat. You got out of your car and walked up to the house, a smirk on your face.

---

“Come in.” Hotch glanced up from his paperwork, JJ standing in his doorway.

“I know we don’t typically take cases only involving one person.” JJ said as she walked over to Hotch’s desk. “The detective thinks there is a possibility it could be related to the Fairfax murder.”

“And do you?” Hotch held his hand out for the file and JJ set it in his hand before taking a seat.

“The possibility is there, but the similarities are basic. Both victims were men who died by gunshots. But our Fairfax victim was married, this guy is single. And in Baltimore. There’s a bit of distance between the two cities, but definitely a doable drive.”

“We’ve seen further.” Hotch opened the file and his brows furrowed. “And he died by gunshot?”

“There was some blunt force trauma involved, but the M.E. says the cause of death was the gunshot wound. All the other injuries were sustained antemortem.”

“Personal?”

“Or was our unsub physically incapable of subduing him before injuring him?” A beat of silence.

“Everyone else is here?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. We have a case.”

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egcdeath · 4 years ago

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wrong place, wrong time

summary: a drunken mishap leads you to reconcile with someone from your past. (based off this prompt)

pairing: andy barber x reader

word count: 2.1k

author’s note: this fic has been sitting in my drafts, half finished, for like months. i hope you enjoy!

warnings: extremely brief mention of cheating

“I just think things would be better if we… you know, saw other people,” Oliver explained through the phone.

You sighed dejectedly into the microphone, before deciding to hang up, and aggressively tossing your phone onto the leather seat next to you. You’d already had a shit day at work, and you really didn’t think that you could handle all of this today. Especially considering that you were almost certain that there was the hint of a feminine giggle in the background of that call.

You’d been expecting this for a while, your relationship with Oliver had been falling apart- slowly but surely- for a few months now, and he was ‘working late’ way too many nights for you not to be the slightest bit suspicious. But it still hurt, you were now single, and you’d essentially wasted a precious year of your life with a douchebag who ended up leaving you anyway.

You pressed your foot on the gas, and began your drive back home, before telling yourself fuck it, and deciding to turn onto a side road so you could head to your local pub.

-----

Several drinks later, you were extremely drunk. From that point on, everything was a bit of a blur.

You stumbled out of the bar (against your own will? You vaguely remember someone telling you that you needed to leave), sat in the back of an Uber (how much did you tell them? Probably too much), arrived at your home (but why weren’t your keys working?).

Things were a bit less blurry here. You can remember yourself repeatedly stabbing your keys into the door, and when that didn’t seem to work, deciding to hoist yourself over your fence, and get in through the back.

During this whole ordeal, you tripped over a seat on the patio, losing a shoe in doing so, and nearly fell into a pool, since when did my house have a pool? You ignored that thought, then opened the back door, getting in with no resistance.

You hobbled inside, closed the door behind you, then stumbled up the stairs, before finally finding your (?) bedroom. You flopped down in bed before realizing that you really needed to pee, and as you went to go find your bathroom, everything seemed to go black.

----

You woke up extremely disoriented in a vaguely familiar bathtub. It faintly smelled of pine, and possibly a hint of vanilla. The tub had a modern and sleek look, yet appeared to be as sterile as a hospital room. This was absolutely not your home. But it possibly belonged to someone you knew. The tiles lining the wall did seem to ring a bell somewhere deep in the foggy abyss of your hungover brain.

As you sat up, you groaned due to the consistent pulsing in your head. This had to be one of the worst hangovers you’d had in a while, and you were lucky that you didn’t lean over and empty the contents of your stomach right that instant.

“Stupid fucking Y/N,” you whispered to yourself. “You’re lucky all of your organs are still intact.” After stating this, you glanced down at your torso just to make sure. But a larger question still remained, where were you? Did you hook up with someone? Did you just randomly break into someone’s home? That’s a little ridiculous. Who would do something like that?

Apparently, drunk you would. In the process of exiting the tub, you concluded that you absolutely were in someone elses' gargantuan of a home, and that that person was undoubtedly down the hall, taking a phone call. Also, you were definitely missing a shoe.

You glared at yourself in the mirror, smeared makeup on your face, hair that looked so frizzy that you may as well have been struck by lightning, and of course the overwhelming scent of dry liquor that seemed to be seeping out of your skin. You turned on the sink and splashed your face, trying to completely wake up, and to partially figure out if this was real life, or just a horrible dream.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed out loud to yourself. How would you even get out of this situation alive? Perhaps you could find a window to jump out of. No, too dangerous. Hide in the bathroom until the man leaves? Well, everyone has to go to the bathroom at some point. Leave without being spotted? Mhm, very likely. Go talk to the homeowner? It doesn’t seem like you have any other option right now. You internally screamed at yourself for being so reckless, especially having gone through all of this drama for a guy who didn’t deserve one ounce of your attention.

You slipped off your remaining shoe, then slowly made your way out of the bathroom, peeking behind the doorway to see if the coast was clear, and trying to plan your explanation in the process. As you peered around, searching for the quickest and easiest exit, you realized just how familiar the home was. But what really did it for you was a painting on the wall.

This was Andy Barber’s home. The same man you hooked up with a few times before ghosting. You sighed exasperatedly at your own poor decision making for what felt like the millionth time that morning.

You had to get the hell out of here. Fast. Lost shoe be damned.

You somewhat remembered the floor plan, so managing to get out unnoticed began to seem just a tad bit more possible. You began to jog it down the hall, trying not to be too heavy footed as you went, in the event that Andy was standing in the eyeline of one of the open doors. Unfortunately for you, in the midst of your beeline down the hall, you were spotted.

“What the..? You know what Lynn, I’ll call you back in a bit.”

“I can explain! Don’t like… kill me or something. I promise you that this is just a big misunderstanding,” you were speaking without really processing anything that you were saying. You turned to face the man, and couldn’t help but to smirk a bit at the sight of him. You forgot just how attractive he was, with a full beard, fluffy hair, and soft blue eyes that seemed to be boring straight into your soul from across the room. Not to mention his sculpted body, which you swore you could make out beneath his sweatpants, and worn white shirt. Really, Y/N? First you ghost a man, break into his home a year later, and now you’re objectifying him?

You moved towards the door and began to speak again, your words flowing out at a million miles per minute, “Uhm, so long story short, I basically got really drunk last night, and I thought your house was mine, so I kinda broke in. But I’ll be seeing myself out now,” You gave a curt smile, and looked towards the stairs. “Before I go, any chance that you’ve seen my left shoe somewhere around here?”

It was clear that Andy was very confused, but as you read his face, you could see that he was far more intrigued than angry. “Hey, not so fast.” He approached you quickly, his eyebrows lifting in surprise, and his mouth gaping open slightly. “No fuckin’ way. Y/N?”

You scratched the back of your head awkwardly and nodded, “yeah.”

“You’re not getting off the hook that easily. Lucky for you, I was about to make breakfast, aaaand I’m not totally opposed to being joined,” he gave you a genuine smile, and a playful little shrug.

“That’s fine with me but- this sounds kinda strange- can I use your shower first?”

“Go right ahead. Mi casa su casa, right? I mean, kinda sounds like that’s what you were thinking last night,” Andy peered at you inquisitively at this, “I’m just kidding. Feel free to use anything you need.”

You couldn’t even blame Andy for his passive aggression, but that didn’t stop you from sulking the whole way back into the bathroom.

----

“I forgot how good your water pressure is,” you announced while coming down the stairs, clad in a college hoodie that you’d found in the depths of Andy’s closet, and shorts that were just a tad too large for you.

“Thanks, I guess?” Andy flipped a pancake, then turned to get a good look at you.

“You’re welcome. It smells so good down here,” you slipped into a barstool at his granite island, and observed him while he cooked, “so... you still live here alone?” You asked while you were passed a mug of coffee.

“Well, yeah. I mean that’s kind of what happens after your wife and son die.”

“Uhm.. sorry. For bringing that up again,” you glanced down awkwardly at your dark drink.

“It’s okay, they’ve been gone for a while,” he sat down at his seat, setting down a plate of food for you and himself. “What’ve you been up to? Apart from breaking and entering, of course.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” you began, cutting into a syrup-soaked pancake. “You’re no saint either. I can’t think of anyone in their right mind who would gladly break bread with someone who drunkenly broke into their home.”

“That’s fair,” Andy stated, almost dismissively. “But it's not like we’re total strangers. We have history.”

You scoffed at this, “like hell we do,” you muttered. “Anyway, things with me have been pretty boring. Same job. I had a boyfriend, but he just dumped me like, 12 hour ago. I’m pretty sure that he’s been cheating on me for like, the past four months.”

“That sucks,” Andy commented, shoveling a piece of pancake into his mouth.

“Yeah, it does. How about you?”

“You know, same old. Still an ADA, still getting messages from random people about that trial, and of course, still perpetually lonely.”

“By no means do I mean to impede, but maybe you’d be a little less lonely if you let people in,” you suggested, looking up from your food to Andy, whose face gave away the offense he was feeling, “I said maybe.”

“What do you mean?” He questioned, brows furrowing.

“Come on, Andrew. You know exactly what I mean. Like with us, I thought everything was going perfectly well, until I was half asleep and you were telling me that you weren’t ready to commit. Literally moments after you were balls-deep in me.”

“Don’t call me that, Y/N,” Andy squinted at you in agitation. “Is that why you stopped picking up my calls?”

“What do you think?”

He sighed softly, “If it’s any consolation, I’ve been trying to do better. I talk to a… counselor… every now and then. Everything’s just been different ever since they passed, you know? It’s hard to form connections after your most intimate ones disappear in the blink of an eye.”

You frowned a bit at the man, and set down your fork. “I get it. I’m sorry.”

“Do you, though? Get it?”

“Not really. I was just trying to be supportive,” you turned a bit in your seat to get a better view of Andy. “I just wonder if we had this conversation a year ago if you and I would be in a better position now. I really liked you a lot.”

Andy was silent for a moment, and observed you pensively. “Let’s try again, then. It seems like you and I both are ready for something new.”

“Oh Andy,” you rubbed the back of your neck anxiously. “I just got out of a relationship less than a day ago.”

“Then we can take this, whatever it might end up being, slow. It would be nice to have a friend around who doesn’t just want to talk about work, and tell me that they’re sorry for my loss.”

You nodded, “I’ll probably need a shoulder to cry on at some point sooner than later.”

“So... friends?”

“Friends,” you agreed with a smile and a lift of your shoulders.

Part of you hoped that maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something great.

#andy barber x reader #defending jacob #chris evans x reader #andy barber x you #hey i wrote that lol

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phantaloon-books · 4 years ago

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Alright I got a couple comments asking for a continuation so here's part 2 of neil finding out the feds were onto smth when they recommended witness protection program

part 1

(Also thank you so much, I genuinely didn't expect such a good reception, everything I write is purely self indulgent)

Andrew is gonna fucking lose it. It's been over three weeks and not a single word from Neil fucking Josten. He's never hated him more, and this time he means it when he says hate. Actually he's not sure he hates himself or Neil more, but he feels hatred and rage and that's what matters. But of course the rabbit just left. Once a rabbit, always a rabbit.

He wanted so desperately to believe that, that Neil chose to run, that he chose to leave him them and keep running because that's what he knows best. Even if believing Neil chose to leave hurts him more than he'll ever admit, it's the best thing to believe. It's best to believe that Neil left than to believe something happened. It's best to believe Neil grew tired and bored of him them than to listen to the worry and dread Andrew's been feeling for months. It's best to believe Neil didn't want him than to let himself think of worst case scenarios.

But he can't make himself think that Neil left willingly and because he wanted to (and not it's not because he wants to believe that Neil wouldn't leave him). Neil would never run without his things, not without his stupid binder and money and contacts, not without clothes or any resources. If he ran away he would do it properly. He wouldn't leave with running clothes and his stupid flip phone. And most importantly Andrew knows that Neil has been restless lately. He's seen the way Neil checks every corner or every place, observes the people, looks for threats. He'd left those habits behind, so something has to have happened. Neil didn't just leave him.

The best thing is the other foxes aren't convinced Neil would run either. He had no one to run from, and he had a family now. And even if he was feeling overwhelmed or anxious, he would have come back. He wouldn't have taken three weeks. So they know, they know, Neil didn't leave because he wanted or needed to. And they're all anxious as hell about that bc if he didn't leave where is he?

They narrow it down eventually, and conclude that he got in a fight and is dead in a ditch somewhere, he had an accident in a coma in a hospital somewhere, he somehow got lost and/or lost his memory, someone killed him accidentally or not and his body is buried somewhere far away, or he's been taken. And Andrew cannot take the stress that he doesn't know where the fuck Neil is any longer.

He almost killed Kevin and several federal agents when Neil went missing for a few hours. This time, he hasn't tried to kill anyone yet but that hasn't stopped him from tearing every dorm apart and the stadium and the police station and the hospital and getting in fights with the FBI. He's desperate enough that he called Browning, hell, he's desperate enough that he contacted the Moriyamas, which wasn't a pleasant experience, but Ichirou had promised Neil protection and this definitely called for mafia intervention. So far neither the FBI or the Moriyamas had helped - yes they had, they informed him regularly that they were looking for Neil, but they had nothing, no clues no trails, and Andrew couldn't believe their incompetence, like for fucks sake the Moriyamas were yakuza, they ought to know what could have happened to one of their most valuable assets. And anyway if he ran, and wasn't taken, they for sure would be behind him, looking to kill him of course, but they still couldn't find him.

Andrew hasn't tried to kill anyone yet but he will soon if he doesn't find Neil, and he's sure he will start with himself. He can't remember the last time he slept or ate well, or went to exy practice, but he doesn't care. He can't care until he knows something. The lack of knowledge is driving him crazy. At this point knowing that Neil is dead and has been rotting in the countryside of Poland would be better than not knowing anything.

He hates this so much. He hates Neil for disappearing. He hates whoever went and got him. He hates the Moriyamas for not being able to find him and not keeping him safe in the first place. He hates himself for becoming so attached. He should have known better. He knew better. He knew it was a bad idea to feel all the things he feels for Neil, especially because it's Neil, the unpredictable rabbit. But he fell for the fake hope that they would make it, that he wouldn't be hurt again, that Neil would stay. He knew letting someone in again could kill him. He knows that if they don't find him, it will. He can't keep going like this. He was stupid enough to feel hopeful, but he won't be able to live once the hope dies.

He's laying in Neil's bed. He knows it's pathetic, but frankly he doesn't care. Everyday is worse than the last one. He's slipping and when he falls it's game over, he's going to make sure of that. If Neil genuinely cared, he'd be pissed at Andrew for even thinking about this. No he'd be upset, but not pissed, about the fact that he's considering taking his life over this. But he opened the door to feelings, and he won't be able to cope with them and he won't be able to close that door again. He's giving up.

Faint buzzing interrumps his thoughts. Someone's calling him. He couldn't stomach the runaway song that matched with Neil's but he couldn't stomach changing it either, so he leaves in on vibrate now. He looks at his screen. It's an unknown number. Most likely the FBI or the Moriyamas or a random police station ready to take him out of his misery and just tell him they found Neil's body. The code says it's from Minnesota. He considers not answering, but he might as well get over it.

He flips the phone open, "I only care about this if you are from the FBI or the literal mafia, so if you aren't from either, feel free to hang up." The other line stays silent for a few seconds, but when he looks at his phone, it's still going. The person didn't hang up. He doesn't have the patience for this. "I'm just gonna hang up then-"

"Andrew, wait." It's barely a hesitant whisper. The voice is absolutely shattered, rough and hoarse and very painful-sounding. There's wheezing too and labored breaths. But god. No matter how wrecked he sounds, he'd recognize that voice anywhere. In half a second he's up and falling from the bed in his haste, alert at last. He can't believe it. He wants to but he doesn't want to believe the call is real.

"Neil? Neil is that you?" He hates how vulnerable he sounds, but the thought dies quickly. There's no way, no way this is real. A sob breaks through the line, and oh it sounds so full of pain and fear.

"Andrew, I-I need you to stay safe. I don't know if they're coming for you, for the foxes. I need you to find a place where you're safe. Call Browning or Ich- the little Lord and make sure they can protect you guys for a while."

Okay that's definitely Neil even if he didn't answer the question. And Andrew's heart is going a thousand miles an hour, he doesn't feel his body anymore.

"Neil where are you? I'm coming to get you, I'll call Browning but where are you?"

"'Drew," another sob, and this one manages to break Andrew's walls more than than the whispered 'Drew', "promise me you'll stay safe, don't come looking for me, you can't take them down, please don't come looking for me."

The exhaustion and terror in his voice doesn't sit well with Andrew. The Neil he knows is not this. "For fucks sake Neil just tell me where in Minnesota you are, I'm coming to get you."

"No- no you're not, I'm not calling you because I want you to come. I just need you to promise you'll be safe."

"Neil who took you? Where are you? I can send the FBI or the japanese shits over, I swear to god I can send them to come get you if you just tell me where you are and who took you. I'll - I'll try my best to keep the others safe, but who took you?"

"I'm sorry, Andrew, I- I didn't mean to, please believe I didn't mean to leave, they- some of the Butcher's pals found me, I'm so sorry- I put all of you in danger again."

"Okay, that's something we can work with, now where are you Neil?"

"Andrew-" his breath hitches, he gasps and whimpers, "I'm so sorry, I have to go, I need to leave Andrew. Please stay safe. Look I- I love you okay? I'm sorry I didn't say it earlier."

"Neil wait don't hang up-"

And the line goes dead.

The world is falling apart, collapsing all around Andrew. He's numb but he feels encompassing terror. He can't feel a thing, he can't think. He was so close. It feels like Neil just slipped past his fingers, like he just let go of Neil and let him fall to the darkness. He thinks he may be falling too. He needs to call Browning. He does it instinctively, he doesn't register he has his phone to his ear until the FBI agents voice is calling to him. He also goes with what he's gonna say with the same instinct he pulled in Baltimore, knowing he can't mention certain mafia.

"Neil just called me, I have no idea from where, I have no idea how he got a hold of me, he didn't say a thing, he refused to say a thing other than we're in danger, the foxes, and that whoever took him will come for us- oh and apparently it's someone involved with the Butcher."

How he managed to be as apathetic and unattached to everything he said is beyond him. But whatever he says and whatever Browning says, FBI agents are now guarding them in the locker room of the Foxhole Court, with mattresses and mats laid down on the floor. and he doesn't know how they got here and he's cuffed all over again, but this time to Renee even if he doesn't remember being violent. Even the stupid rookies are here, looking extremely panicked and terrified despite most of them not giving a fuck that Neil was gone just hours ago. The other foxes - Neil's family - are pressing Andrew for answers, but he can't deal with anything at the moment.

He needs to call Ichirou too. That's the call that matters, because that's the call that can bring Neil home because he can't do that himself while cuffed to Renee and being guarded by the fucking FBI. He somehow convinces the agent to let him make a call, to his therapist he says, to grant him privacy even if that's utter bullshit. He's dragging Renee into the eye of the storm but oh well, why did they cuff him to her in the first place, it's not his fault. He calls the Moriyama representative he's been dealing with and thank Renee's god the woman answers.

"I need to talk to- to Lord Ichirou, it's about Neil Josten's whereabouts, I got important information about him." He can feel both the condescension from the other end of the line and poorly veiled shock from Renee. "I know where he is, I know about who's got him, I need to talk to Lord Moriyama."

He isn't sure how he managed it. He doesn't know how he convinced them to let them talk to their mafia boss, or how he's able to keep his cool for long enough to actually talk to the man himself. He thinks having Renee there, who asks no questions and keeps her hand on top of Andrew's with no hesitation, is part of the solution but he's not admitting that. Either or, he talks to Ichirou (he can't deny he's not terrified of messing up with the man who keeps Neil alive, but he's not admitting that either), reminds him of how Neil is important to the Moriyamas, both as an exy player and as a Wesninski, and how Neil, Kevin and Jean are loyal to the Moriyamas, hints at how Ichirou promised protection. He has perfect memory, but he will never remember how he convinced Ichirou Moriyama to send people to Minnesota and look for him all over the state and surrounding states, all he knows is that Ichirou stuck to his promise, all is good, he didn't fuck up.

Weeks pass again, nothing happens. There's no news from the Moriyamas, the FBI keeps telling him they're doing what they can. Andrew is done. No one came looking for them at least, which is nice bc they didn't die but it doesn't feel worth it when Neil wasn't back. He feels stupid for hoping he would come back safe and alive. The Moriyamas might as well have killed him for being such an inconvenience. Things are going to hell. Andrew was an idiot for falling so hard for Neil Josten. It was a mistake. He should have known better.

His anger is gone, and numbness has settled. It was becoming a habit for him to remain lying down most of the day. It was also becoming a habit for the foxes to take care of him when he did this. He can't even bother to shower if someone doesn't remind him every day, or eat, or drink water for that matter. He's a mess and he would be incredibly embarrassed if he cared a little, but he's slipping and he doesn't mind falling. Nothing is fine. Until it is.

It comes in the form of a text one morning, while he's lying on the couch in the living room. An unknown number again, New York code, and it only reads, "Threat has been dealt with - I". And what the fuck does that mean. It tells him absolutely nothing. If Ichirou bothered to text him he could at least be clear as to what the fuck that meant. Was Neil even alive? There is a soft knock at the door. Of course, someone bothers him when no other fox is at the dorm. They couldn't ditch every class to make sure Andrew didn't combust spontaneously.

He truly doesn't want to get up. He doesn't want to go answer the door. It's too much a bother. If it's someone important they'll either knock again aor shout for him to open up. He curls up in bed. He honestly wants to disappear. There's another knock, a little harder than the first. But there's no voice, no demand, no nothing. Maybe it's a Moriyama. Maybe he'll feel so disrespected or whatever he's gonna barge in and end his misery. Whatever. "Fuck off", he shouts from the couch, hoping for the best. There's another knock, for fuck's sake, can they just walk in already? Another, and he's up. Pissed and going for the door.

"Fucking hell, what do you want?" His anger is back with a passion, and he's practically stomping to the door, throwing it wide open, "Just barge through the fucking door, and get it over with-"

He has to stop exploding when people don't answer to him right away. Maybe he should work on his patience. Because frankly it has been working against him at the worst times. No it's not his fault. It's the idiot's fault for appearing at out nowhere and stealing his breath away. Everything is Neil Josten's fault.

"Hey Drew," said idiot's voice is impossibly more hoarse than when he called him before. Andrew can't tell if his heart is beating too fast or not at all. He thought he was a mess, but Neil looks like he's been through hell and back. Well, he's been through hell and back too many times before, but he's never looked this bad, and he was a mess after Evermore. His face is beaten so badly, so swollen, if he didn't know him and those stupidly blue eyes so well. Even his eyes are different, there's no spark, they're dull and hazy. He's wearing a large hoodie and sweatpants, so Andrew can't see the damage beyon his face, but at least his hands remain okay, there's no new damage. "Looks like I still have it in me to leave you speechless, huh."

Andrew takes a deep breath and he sighs. And his heart breaks. Neil. Neil. Neil is here. Andrew wants to craddle him and hold him and never let him go again. He doesn't care if it's soft, Neil is here. He raises his hands, frames Neil's face like he has before. He presses a hand to Neil's neck, looking for a pulse, and he finds it. He's alive.

"Neil," he breathes, and he feels. He feels. "You're alive, I thought, you-"

They're both silent. Andrew doesn't notice when Neil raises his hands, framing his own face. They've been here before.

"I'm not leaving you, I promised right? You're not getting rid of me that easily. "

He hates feeling this much, "You've got some explaining to do, but- it can wait."

"That's good yeah, because I'm not sure how much longer I can remain conscious and the Moriyamas weren't the best at patching everything up, so I'd really appreciate it if you call Abby."

He doesn't trust himself to open his mouth, so he guides Neil inside, holding on to his hand like a tether. Neil deflates, he grimaces as Andrew helps him to the couch. He's obviously hiding something below the clothes. Andrew stands to call Abby, but Neil grips his hand tightly. When Andrew looks up, he sees the fear and exhaustion he heard on the call weeks ago. Neil isn't able to keep up the act of being okay for long.

"Stay, pl- just," he looks away, and Andrew doesn't know how to feel about the pause, he didn't say the word, "can you stay?"

And he does. Things aren't fine. Neil is a mess. So is Andrew. They have to work through stuff. Andrew clearly has to work on the apparent dependancy issues. But they'll have time now. Neil is safe. He's alive and safe. He lost consciousness not long after he sat down, but Abby, Wymack and the foxes are on their way. They're not fine. But Neil is lying next to him, and he isn't gonna let him go again. They'll be fine.

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whydamnitwhy · 4 years ago

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So, I had previously been asked about my head canon that Aaron Minyard and Neil Josten are the same person and this just.... got away from me...... buckle up and enjoy the ride.

Listen. This is a lot of head canon but where I can site the canon I will. Aaron and Neil are the same person and here’s why:

Aaron spent most of his life dealing with a neglectful mother. A mother who didn’t even give him the time of day. She didn’t beat him until Andrew was back in the picture. So he spent his formative years just, wanting her to notice him. He did drugs because it was something to do with his mother. Something to share. And that’s so few and far between with them. Tilda didn’t buy groceries let alone eat with Aaron. But drugs? They could have that together. (Granted I don’t think Tilda noticed like Aaron needed/wanted her to.)

Tilda then began to take out her aggression on Aaron when Andrew came back into the picture. Hitting him and abusing him. And though Aaron hated her in these moments— he would look back almost fondly. It’s the only time Tilda touched him— and he lapped that up like a man dying of thirst. It was awful and painful and WRONG but it was SOMETHING.

Aaron met Andrew and CRAVED. Not just for FAMILY or TOUCH but also for Freedom. Andrew was in juvie, sure. But he wasn’t abused like Aaron. He couldn’t be. Because he didn’t grow up with Tilda. Andrew had a life Aaron craved. Never wanted. Could never WANT. But craved.

This is important. Because when Aaron had found out via that phone call about Andrew, he tells Nicky that “it was the worst day of his life.” (The Raven King page 19) It’s not just because Aaron found out he had a TWIN BROTHER but that Aaron was the one left behind. He didn’t have someone to lean on. He didn’t know Andrew’s life. He just knew that he was left behind with a mother who didn’t care and that was NOT FAIR.

When he got the Fuck Off letter from Andrew it was more salt in the wound. It was more of his Family pushing him away. It was being ignored AGAIN. And that was devastating.

Luther had to convince Aaron just as much as Andrew for that first meeting. Because Aaron wasn’t gonna push. He wasn’t going to push because his mom had started to abuse him. And the drugs were enough to lessen the physical pain. But not enough for the mental anguish. Of finally being “found” but wishing you had stayed hidden. It was too complex an area of emotions for a 13 year old.

When he met Andrew it was like looking at a cracked mirror to only realize that you are the the one broken. Andrew was free of Tilda’s abuse and he had Luther who was trying to help him and so many more. People were focusing on Andrew. They SAW him and it was too much and not enough. It was everything Aaron wanted and he SAW it. He saw it in the ever mirrored reflection of Andrew. He wanted that.

So Aaron asked him. His cravings and WANTS needed to have SOMETHING needed for SOMEONE to see him.

“Aaron cut a deal with Andrew at juvie: if Andrew stuck with him until graduation, Aaron would stick with Andrew.” (The King’s Men page 70-71)

I could delve into Andrew’s personality and perspective here but that’ll make this SO MUCH LONGER, so let’s just say, with all Andrew had been through, this is a deal he HAD to make (even while ignoring the Deal he made with Cass cause in a way, she had already broken it— this is another head canon i may talk about later lol).

And Andrew committed to Aaron. He came to live with them and, it wasn’t GOOD, but it was someone by his side. Someone who SAW Aaron, even though Andrew never looked at him. It was in the little moments of sharing a bedroom. Eating breakfast together. Watching TV. And that was SO MUCH MORE then Aaron had before.

When Andrew killed Tilda though. Aaron broke. Because there went his chances of having his mother SEE him. There went any hope of being loved by her. And it was AARON’S FAULT. Not because he thought about their deal, no it was deeper then that. Aaron CRAVED so much for SOMEONE that HE brought Andrew here. He pushed Luther to get Andrew. That broken mirror kept shattering around Aaron and he couldn’t pick up the pieces fast enough.

Aaron didn’t start hating Andrew until he was locked in that bathroom, clawing at the door, and begging to be set free. Withdrawal was painful. Being ignored was worse.

Aaron became bitter. Resentful. He had been surrounded by aggressive (both passive and otherwise) for years. Neglected and disrespected. Forgotten and pushed aside and deemed the “normal one”.

Then there was Katlyn. Katlyn touched Aaron with hands not used for trauma. With the adoration and love that Aaron had CRAVED for so long— and he still couldn’t have it. He couldn’t have it cause that mirror was still shattered and there was nothing he could do. Cause the last time he DID do something, it ended with so much loss Aaron couldn’t stand it. He was AFRAID. Afraid to want, to love, to be seen— even after all these years.

It didn’t matter how drugged his brother was— the shattered glass was still there, exposed by every expressionless glare and cracked smile. He couldn’t chance losing more.

Then: Neil Josten.

Neil Josten spent a life on the run in more ways then one. He was kept silent and still when he lived with Nathan and TRIED NOT TO BE NOTICED. He craved to be invisible. To be over looked. Because being seen meant pain. Even at a young age Neil knew that.

When his mother took him and ran, it was a mixture of emotions too strong to name for a 10 year old. Relief? Happiness? Fear? Something in between? It was the ability to become invisible with someone who he loved. Who never cut him. Who never burned him.

But, like all good things, that started to change too. If anything, the abuse from his mother was worse than Nathan’s because his mother did it out of love. Out of fear. There was no enjoyment in every raised fist. No glee with every cutting word. There was fear and panic. And those feelings laced through his veins with every needle poke and pulled thread.

Neil CRAVED to be invisible as much as Aaron CRAVED to be seen. But in the end, the result was the same. No matter how much you wish and plead and want— “you never get what you deserve.”

Neil wanted his mother’s love, not her fear; Aaron wanted his mother’s love, not her neglect.

Both of their mothers died before their cravings could be satisfied. Both their mothers died because of them. Aaron was too invisible to save Tilda. Neil wasn’t invisible enough to save Mary.

When these boys meet— it’s at the WORST possible time in both of their lives because they were still fighting those chains that were wrapped around them. And they SAW that, in a way, in one another.

Neil didn’t notice that Aaron and Andrew weren’t “getting along” because Aaron WAS easy to ignore. And Aaron saw everything about Neil because Neil WASN’T good at hiding.

They had vastly different pasts but ended with the same conclusion: you don’t get what you crave by trying to be different than what you are.

So, Neil gave up being invisible. He stayed because he had enough of trying to hide. Aaron gave up on being seen. He leaned away from his “family” because for the first time he didn’t need to be seen by THEM.

And because they finally did this, settled for the reality of who they were. They were finally able to break those chains locking them in place.

I came to this conclusion when Neil lied to Aaron about Drake. (The Raven King page 257-258)

This seemed so underhanded and cruel, but as a fandom we agree that this tactic was the only way to get through to Aaron. It puts the mirror on him. It paints HIM as the person in the spotlight. Which is.... so disarming to Aaron.

How dare this no nothing, runaway be the first to really SEE Aaron. His rage for his brother blurred into one with Neil, until all he could see were the side glances and body movements between his brother and Neil. (Aaron knew body language just as good as Neil.)

So when THIS happened, when Aaron implemented the SAME underhanded tactic: (The King’s Men page 316-317)

It wasn’t just because Aaron wanted to deal the same blow Neil gave him, but because he understood the mentality. To threaten another person with the wrong assumption; to see how far you can push because you KNOW it’s too far. Because you KNOW that underneath it, underneath all the masks and lies, is a truth too profound to speak aloud. And so you push a lie. THEY pushed a lie on each other.

And when Aaron gave Neil that “searching” look. I think he saw that. I think they finally found that edge that they both stood at and refused to be push any farther. Because they HAD been pushed too far before but when it came to THIS; this was too much for their OWN hands to deal that fatal blow.

(And the fact that both of these snide moments are in direct relation towards their feelings towards Andrew is something I could also expound upon lol.)

When I first read AFTG I hated Aaron— and i wasn’t sure why. Upon my re-read though I realized that the reason I didn’t like him was that he was basically a complacent Neil Josten. Aaron was trying so hard to be seen through a cracked mirror that he had forgotten that it was just a reflection and not really who he was or who he wanted to be.

Neil and Aaron are similar in their cravings. They have what the other man wants. And because of that, I believe their friendship and development will be both inevitable and cathartic.

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diaryofabeautyfiend · 4 years ago

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This chapter is a monster so I’m splitting it up into two parts. If y’all wouldn’t mind letting me know if you’re still reading this, I would appreciate it forever.

Small Time Witch (21) part 1

Most of the time when Loki remembered his dreams they were of you or his mother. Sometimes he dreamt of his coronation as king of Asgard with you by his side. The last several nights he would wake up frantic having dreamt of Asgard in ruin. Ragnarok was imminent. He tried several times to reach Thor to no avail. He would go to Asgard in the morning.

You rolled over half asleep reaching out to the warm body that wasn’t there. This is the third time this week Loki had a nightmare. “Lok?”

“In here” he called from the den.

“Another nightmare?” You hugged him from behind. He kissed your hands.

“I don’t think they are nightmares. I think they are warnings. I can’t get in touch with Thor. I’ll have to go to Asgard in the morning.”

“Can I come?”

“I’m afraid not. I don’t know what’s happening and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I can help.” You let a little spark jump between your fingers.

“I know you can, Pet. At worst something terrible is happening and I’ll have to help. Which means I will be too distracted worrying about your safety to fight. At best I’m just having nightmares, I’ll see the healers and I’ll be home by the next day. I promise.”

You pouted but didn’t argue. You hated seeing him this worried. You made him a cup of tea and sat with him until he was ready to go back to bed. When you yawned for the third time he tried to get you to go on without him.

“That’s it. Off with you” he said over his book.

“I’m not tired. I want to stay up with you. Hey, Loki, I can put you to sleep like you used to do when I had nightmares.” You slid your hand into the waistband of his pajamas and started stroking his cock. It was only a matter of seconds before it was hard and throbbing in your hand. He always responded so well to your touch.

You didn’t even make it into the bedroom. He bent you over the arm of the sofa and pounded you silly. He made you cum three times before he was able to meet his release. After all that you were a half dead mess. He was still wide awake.

“Shall I carry you, my queen? I’m quite strong you know?” He pulled you from the couch and all but dragged you to bed.

“How are you still so awake?” He shushed you as you climbed under the covers. “Don’t leave me. Get in bed.” You rested your head on his chest and fell asleep before he could turn off the light. Sleep never came for him.

In the morning he made you breakfast and woke you with his tongue diving into your snatch. Your all time favorite wake up. You sat on his lap throughout breakfast. He insisted. It was like he couldn’t get enough of you. Since you returned from Alfheim you hadn’t been apart for more than a few hours. Not knowing when he’s return was making you both a little antsy.

“How will I know you’re there?” you asked impatiently.

“You’ll know. The pull will not be as strong.” His voice was low and somber. You both hated that thought.

“How will I know if you’re hurt or worse?” He grabbed your chin and looked into your eyes.

“If I die, you will too. Remember? The rings keep us bound. They’re still Yggdrasil. My soul is still there.”

“How comforting. What if I take it off to wash my hands and that’s the moment you die. Will I still die?”

He rolled his eyes, “Yes. The moment you return the ring to your finger. You’ll be bound to a dead soul.”

Your stomach was in knots. “Good. Because if you die I’ll find you and drag you out of Hel myself. I’m not feeling good about this, Lok. Let me come with you. Or don’t go. We’ll try Thor again.”

Loki sighed deeply. My my, you were peevish this morning. “Y/N. I have to go. I will be back. I love you more than anything. Much more than Asgard. I promise if anything happens I’ll get out of there and come right home. I promise.” He kissed you deeply. He didn’t want to let go. He looked worried. “I love you, Y/N. Not even death can change that.”

“Please don’t say it like that. I love you too, Lok.” He called for Heimdall and he was off.

You tried to occupy yourself but your mind kept going back to him. After your third cup of tea you decided to go relax in the yard. You grabbed a book and a blanket. You read the same sentence a few times and finally gave up. It was no use. That was it. You had been coupled for so long that you forgot how to be with yourself.

It was really no surprise how broken up you were about Loki being away. You were the same way when you and Andrew broke up. This was different. You and Loki weren’t breaking up. You were blissfully happy. You still had a nagging feeling in your chest that something wasn’t right.

That night you dreamt of a world burning down around you. You tried to get to Loki but you couldn’t in time. Every time you closed your eyes you saw his lifeless face looking back at you purple bruised and bleeding. It made you physically ill.

You did everything in your power to reach Loki. Nothing worked. You searched through his books to try to find a way to access the Bifrost. That was either magic Loki couldn’t do or he didn’t have it in his books. You stumbled across one book titled The Joy of Interstellar Space Travel. When you opened it the pages looked a little off. You place your hand in the center and it went right through the book into a little hole. This must be where Loki kept the tasseract and now it’s gone. Your brain flew into a panic and you started shouting for Heimdall.

You had to stop Loki from doing whatever stupid thing he was about to do. Heimdall never answered. Maybe Strange could get you there. You ran into the kitchen to grab your keys when you heard Loki’s voice.

He looked like he had taken a beating. Exhaustion wracked his body. You tried to touch his face but your hand went right through. He was too weak to make his double corporeal.

“Oh, Loki.”

You could see the tears streaming down his face. “Y/N, I’m not going to make it home. I know I promised and I am so sorry...”

“No” you shook your head furiously, “you promised! Come home. Please!”

He shushed you and cursed himself for not being able to touch you. “I don’t have much time. I need you to warn Wanda and Strange. Tell them Thanos is coming for the stones. You have to hurry. He already has two.”

“What do you mean? If you go I go. I won’t be here to tell them..”

“Yes you will. You have to take off your ring.”

“No! Loki! No! I’m coming with you. I’ll find you in Hel.” You were trembling violently and sobbing. Nothing he could say would calm you.

“You have to. Please. This wouldn’t be happening if I hadn’t taken the tasseract. It’s my fault. Half of our people are gone. I need you to do this.”

“Fuck everyone else. We’re supposed to spend eternity wandering around the afterlife together. We said vows. If you didn’t mean it then....”

He could see logic had escaped you at this point so he got more forceful. “Stop being such a fucking brat and do as I say! Take off the damned ring! NOW. You need to live. You just have to. I’m sorry that this is happening but you shouldn’t be made to suffer because of me.”

He may as well have slapped you. Both of you were prostrate with grief. With every ounce of strength he had he forced his double to solidify so that he may feel you one more time. He placed his hands on the side of your face and made you to see him.

“I love you. Please say you love me. My little queen. Tell me.”

“I love you, Loki. Please don’t leave me. What am I supposed to do without you?”

He took a deep strained breath. Blood was trickling out of his nose and his eyes were rimmed red, “Live.” He snatched the ring off your finger and fizzled out.

You screamed his name like a wild banshee and summoned a wind that knocked everything off the walls. You couldn’t feel your body tumbling to the floor. You couldn’t breathe. You were certain for a split second your heart stopped. The blood rushing through your ears was so loud you couldn’t hear your phone ringing. You held out your hand to bring it over. On the other end was Wanda’s panicked voice.

“Y/N! What happened? Y/N!”

Your voice was very calm and monotone, “Thanos is coming for the stone. You have to get Vision out of there. Loki’s dead. Thanos has the tasseract. I have to call Strange.”

You hung up and dialed Strange’s number. No answer. Your television clicked on. You hadn’t turned it on. The news story flashed on the screen saying that New York was attacked. Thanos was already on his way.

You stayed on the kitchen floor clutching your ring and you cried. There was nothing else you had strength for.

🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆

STEVE

The Quinjet could not carry Steve to New York fast enough. He paced the entire time they were in the air. He kept trying your phone but it was going right to voicemail.

“Pick up, damn it.”

Wanda assured him you were still alive. She couldn’t concentrate long enough to feel you. He called Ororo.

“Captain Rogers. Good to hear from you. What are we looking at?”

“A mad titan coming to earth to collect stones that will help him wipe out half the population.”

“Must be a Tuesday,” she said in jest. “How can we help?”

Steve let out a deep sigh, “We stopped some of his followers in Belfast. I’m sure you saw they captured Tony Stark in New York. Truthfully I have no idea. Ororo, is Y/N alone?”

“She is. She won’t let anyone in the house. Agatha can’t get through the magic she put up. She’s umm...” her voice faltered, “she’s in so much pain. Jean can’t get through to her. Logan has stationed himself outside. When we first got there all we could hear was her screaming. She won’t let us help her.”

“Ok. We’ll be in New York in a few hours. Let me know if anything changes.” He hung up and braced himself against the wall. Bucky put his hand on Steve’s shoulder to comfort him. “Buck, when we land I want you to go straight to Y/N.” Bucky nodded and paced the floor with him.

As soon as they got back to the compound Steve tried calling you again. This time you answered but didn’t say anything. He could hear you sniffling on the other end. “Y/N, Bucky is coming to get you ok? You need to let him in.” You didn’t answer him at first. His heart was breaking for you. He squeezed his eyes his eyes shut, “Come on, Princess, I know you can hear me. Say something.”

“Ok” Click. At least that was something. Bucky grabbed some keys and found the car they belonged to. He raced to you as fast as he could. When he pulled up Logan greeted him.

🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅

“She won’t let anyone in” Logan huffed.

Bucky advanced towards the house. He was scared to death that you were going to kill him. “She knew I was on the way. What’s stopping you from getting in? Will it kill me if I try?”

“Not exactly. It’s just that when you get close you can’t move. Like your body won’t advance or doesn’t want to. I can’t explain it accurately.” Logan was flustered. He had been trying to get to you for hours with no luck.

“Can she hear us talking or should I call her phone?”

“She can hear.”

The front door and windows were open. You were sitting on the couch staring at the wall. You looked so lost and pissed. Really pissed. The most scary thing is that you looked like you were scheming. Murderously scheming. Bucky hoped that none of Loki’s stupid tendencies rubbed off on you.

He got as close as you would allow and he spoke softly. “Hey, doll. Steve sent me to get you. We don’t want you to be alone. But if you don’t want to go I will sit here and wait as long as you want. But, I haven’t watched this season of Drag Race. If you want to let me in I can watch with you. I brought the essentials.”

Agatha perked up, “Keep going, Bucky. It’s working” she whispered.

“I have Funions from the gas station. I know you like road trip snacks. I also have peanut butter M&M’s and Oreos. If you have some ice cream we can make milkshakes. I have bourbon if you want to make it interesting. Not the fancy kind. That rot got Irish shit that burns when you swallow....”

“I hope you brought enough for everyone” you finally said. Bucky stood up and gingerly stepped into the doorway.

“I have plenty. Didn’t know how long I’d be here. Can we come in?”

“Door’s open, Buck.” He walked in quietly and sat on the couch.

“Everyone calm down. I’m not going to flip out. Sit down. Eat. I have leftovers in the fridge. Wolfie have you ever seen Drag Race?”

After a few drinks and lots of snacks everyone was ready to get some sleep. Ororo, Jean and Agatha headed back to the school. It wasn’t a long drive. You promised to call in the morning. No way Logan was leaving you. He set himself up in Thor’s room. Wade found the other bedroom. Bucky offered to take the couch but you asked him to sleep in bed with you.

He shot Steve a text. Instead of texting back he called.

“Hey. How’s it going over there?” Steve was very anxious. He didn’t know how to talk to you.

“Fine. I’m going to see if she’ll get some sleep. Agatha made her some tea. Said it had a mild sedative. I’m going to sit up with her.”

“Is she around? Can I talk to her?”

“You’re on speaker.”

It was quiet for a moment. “Hey, Steve. I’m ok. Well I’m not ok. I’m fucking gutted. I’m ok for now. I’ll go back with Bucky in the morning.”

“Take your time, sweetheart. We do kind of need all hands on deck though. I know the girls are dying to see you too. Get some sleep ok?”

“Ok.” and you clicked off the phone. “Has he always sounded like a worried mother or is that new?”

“Be nice” Bucky scolded. “He’s just worried. We all are. I’m going to shut off the light ok? Sleep.”

You held on to Bucky the whole night. You fought against the sedative for as long as you could but it finally won. As soon as you closed your eyes, there he was. Loki’s face was purple bruised and bloodied. His neck looked broken. His eyes were open and just stared unfocused. You tentatively reached out a hand to touch him but you pulled back.

You wanted to hit him, to scream in his face. You couldn’t bring yourself to move. Finally, you crawled towards him and situated yourself where you were laying against his chest. You used to fall asleep listening to his heart beating. There was only silence. You pulled his arm over you and tried to will him to wake up. When you squeezed him harder he turned to dust in your arms. You screamed and, judging by the look on the three men’s faces, you were screaming for real.

“Sorry, guys. Bad dream.” You settled back down and kept having the same dream. You didn’t scream anymore. You just held him as long as you could.

🟠🔴🔵🟣🟢🟡

The next morning you sent Logan and Wade home. You promised them you would be ok and that you wouldn’t murder a Titan without calling them first. You and Bucky chatted on the car ride back. The conversation was light and took your mind off of things.

When you got closer to the compound you got quiet. Seeing everyone again was making you feel anxious. Bucky held your hand. It felt like the first time you visited the compound with Wanda. Loki made you feel so safe.

You were trying to keep your emotions in check but when you saw Wanda, all of that went out of the window. She wrapped you in her arms and you melted down. “We were really happy.” Was all you could say. She and Nat took you upstairs so they could help you take a bath.

Bucky plopped in the chair. Steve looked at him like he wanted to ask a question but he was reluctant.

“How did she sleep?” he finally asked.

“She screamed in her sleep all night. Every time I thought she settled down it would happen again. The three of us took turns keeping watch. She electrocuted Wade once when he tried to shake her awake. It was pretty funny. She’s not ok, Steve.”

Steve signed and rubbed his face, “Shit. Why don’t you go take a nap and we’ll meet downstairs in a couple of hours?”

Already nodding off, Bucky didn’t have to be told twice. Steve paced outside of your door wanting to see you so badly. Finally Nat came out to get you some water.

“Does she want to eat? Can I see her?” He followed Nat down the hall bombarding her with questions.

She put her hand on his shoulder, “I know there are probably still feelings in there but you have to reign them in. She just lost her husband. Let her grieve before you swoop in.”

“I’m not swooping. Who is swooping? Wait! Husband?! They’re married?”

“Yes. Apparently he figured out a way to share his immortality with her. In doing so some elf priest split their souls and intertwined them together. If she puts back on her wedding ring she dies. It’s complicated.”

Steve’s head was spinning. He was still trying to understand the very simple fact that you and Loki were husband and wife.

“Does she want to see me?” His voice was small and timid.

Nat rolled her eyes, “Just go, Steve.”

He opened the door slowly and peered around the corner. You were sitting on the bed with your head in your hands. Wanda was rubbing your back.

He had never presumed that his relationship with you was on the same level as what you had with Loki. He did not share your twin abilities to know what the other is feeling. But this time, he could feel the despair drifting off of you like a fog.

He knelt beside the bed to try to see your face. You didn’t acknowledge him but you didn’t pull away. He had no words of comfort to give you. He could not take your pain away. He could only offer support.

“How can I help?” he whispered. You sat up and took his hands in hours. Your face was haggard and your body somehow looked frail.

“You can’t. I know it’s your nature to try to fix things but you can’t. Just be my friend.”

“Then that’s what I’ll do. Wanda, why don’t you go check on Vision? See how the plans are coming. I’ll stay here.”

Wanda was reluctant to leave. She promised not to go far. As soon as the door clicked closed Steve got into bed with you and scooped you into his lap. You buried your face in his shirt and screamed until you passed out. He held on to you as tight as he could to absorb as much as you would give.

The whole team hovered outside of your door until Steve came out. “She’s asleep. Let’s go hash this out. Let her get some rest.”

#steve rogers fanfic #captain america x reader #marvel #marvel witches #mcu x reader #steve rogers x reader #captain america smut #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #bucky reader insert #loki smut #loki angst #soft loki #xmen #wolverine

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kiss-my-freckle · 4 years ago

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8x16 Rewatch: Nicholas Obenrader

IRS storyline. Red’s friendly thief talks about someone going to Boston University. Another one going to college. Agnes will tie into their college storylines somehow. I love Red’s comment about Ressler. “Black shoes, cheap suit, flat stomach, regulation cut - don’t get me wrong, he’s bent, just not as bent as we’d like him to be.”

“Why must you always be early?” This ties in Ressler’s comment to Liz in Brothers. “Not on my watch.” Whatever happens, he’ll be early. Ressler informs the team. He knows a great deal about the Yakuza because of Mako Tanida.

Espinosa was building his golden parachute like The Director did. He takes a 10% cut from the 40% cut the crew is supposed to get. Red’s friend informs Neville. He’s boxing Espinosa just like he did Rudigger. Neville’s people have no reason to doubt Liz. He already knew she was an agent.

“She’s really good. But I think we’ll all be a lot better when this is done.” A nice hit to the note the woman from Paris left for Red. “You’re good. I’m better.” The worst has yet to come. “Liz’s mom abandoned her. She would never do the same to Agnes.” Aram has no clue why Katarina gave Liz up for adoption. She had no choice. Liz will realize this soon enough when her own child ends up in danger because Neville wants to kill her. Katarina didn’t make a mistake, Liz did.

The whole brother of Charles at the lake house reminds me of Liz’s comment about Ressler’s lake house when she spoke to Laurel Hitchin in 4x19.

Liz is so disrespectful. Anyway... Cooper sent Aram to Paris because he’s still unofficially working with Liz. Ressler last week, Aram this week. Cooper basically knew Aram would be meeting with Liz. I will blame the entire task force along with Liz for whatever happens to her and/or Agnes and/or Jennifer because they failed to arrest her and chose to work against Red instead. He’s their CI. Liz is not. Red put her on the blacklist for a reason. Panabaker put her on the wanted list for a reason.

“If I were you, I’d like the finish line.” Red’s comment is a nice kick back to his comment to Liz in Devlin’s episode, S5. “Our sprint to the finish. The bag is just out of reach now.”

I love Aram’s care for Agnes in this episode, but I laugh at Liz’s comment. “Where we live is quiet and peaceful.” A nice kickback to the scene cut in 7x13 for their War and Peace theme. Ressler's "But maybe this will help us." US being Keenler. A hearing aid that blocks out sound. Cut to Agnes' name on her passport meaning Peace. “Your daddy just always taught me to be ready for a rainy day.” This runs through The Freelancer in 8x5. “There's a number pre-programmed. You ask for Charlotte. You tell them you got caught in the rain and need to dry off.” It won’t be quiet and peaceful for long. Charlotte’s web is about to get tangled.

“I’ve done some awful things.” Liz kicking back to S3... again. “I have done... so many terrible things. I have hurt so many people."

“Whoever said crime doesn’t pay wasn’t very good at it.” When crime nearly costs Liz her daughter... she’ll understand what that truly means. It’s a dialogue that kicks back to The Ethicist in S6. “He did a cost-benefit analysis on these people, figured that the cost outweighed the benefits, and killed them because of it." Liz believes the benefit outweighs the cost. It doesn’t.

Finally, some Ressler action in a lake house.

Sikorsky’s official name is Ivan Stepanov. Red’s friend in the East. Officially, he’s SVR. Unofficially, he’s a high-ranking member of Zaslon. running black-ops around the globe. “Mobilize assets.”

Red doesn't expect Obenrader to reveal anything meaningful about Neville's organization. Obenrader knows the blowback it’ll have on his loved ones if he does. This is what Liz will have to worry about later. The blowback on her loved ones. More specifically, Jennifer and Agnes.

Whoever their inside man is, it’ll be a low-level agent like The Director’s friend in Zal Bin Hasaan’s episode. I’m expecting someone outside the task force, but close enough to tap the phone. They know Liz is using burners, so they had to tap Ressler’s. Yeah, another kickback to S3.

The task force can’t arrest Stepanov, so they’re letting Liz extract him. Because they chose to work with Liz and Ressler contacted her about Stepanov while having a tap on his phone, Neville’s own people got their hands on him first. Precisely the point. They just put Liz in the direct line of fire because Katarina was N-13 and she’s very much alive. I thought it’d be Paula who got into his line, but it was Neville’s people. Guarantee Stepanov can prove Katarina was N-13, and knows the identity of imposter Katarina. This knowing will be Liz’s downfall. He’s going to protect Red at all costs (tortured or not) because he and Red have been working on this project together for the past 30 years.

“Oh, my stars” is a common quote from Red. He used it in Lord Baltimore with Yaabari. "Let me guess, I stole something from you. A painting, jewelry.... your heart." Red’s new asset is gorgeous as hell. Priya Laghari.

“I want to be your angel.” - Red

Red pulls a fake shooting on Ressler and Park so as not to look like a CI in bed with the FBI. “Of course, a mystery is only as good as the story around it.” Red saying exactly what I’ve been saying about his real identity. It has to fit the story around it.

Alina Park is pretending to read Just Fly Away by Andrew McCarthy. “A powerful story about family secrets, first love, the limits of forgiveness, and finding your way in the world.”

“Like taking candy from a kid.” A hit to Rizal’s episode. This is where Agnes falls in, along with the dialogues about spoiling her rotten.

“You think you’re giving her a rope to hang herself. I fear you may be giving her a rope to hang all of us.” A nice hit back to 8x14. “I’m responsible for Mary Bremmer’s murder, Dembe’s torture, and I got nothing to show for it, except for another reminder that no matter how tight the noose, Reddington will always cheat the hangman." To be clear, Liz fully accepting responsibility for the murder of Mary Bremmer, so what comes to Jennifer will be on her. That whole washer necklace choking Mary through Liz’s Cyranoid. She didn’t specify that it brought her good luck, only that it brought her luck... because Tom Keen is bad luck.

A noose for Jennifer Reddington. Then Liz will have something to show for it.

Red is worried about Priya. He hired her to assassinate Neville.

He should be worried. This focal shot is a kickback to Roy Cain's episode in S7. His "knock on wood" will push back to Liz and her fate.

Purposeful stuff.

A kiss of death... like the woman from Paris kissing Red before injecting him. It also makes me think of The Apothecary, the Scotch. Just throw it in the bottle while he's gone and be done with it. While she may not kill Neville, I do think she’ll be the reason Red’s friend Ivan will survive. She’s a thief. "Items” include people. That's what Neville wants Priya to steal. She's gonna steal Ivan Stepanov. "Item" is how Red referred to Raymond’s bones in S5 and how they referred to Karakurt when he came in country in S2... items. Rakitin wasn’t worth the save.

The Stranger by Albert Gamus. The book Dembe was reading that Red starts to read. The novel is famous for its first lines: “Mother died today. Or maybe it was yesterday, I don’t know.”

"Katarina Rostova was N-13. And Katarina Rostova is dead." Ivan Stepanov speaks truth. Red is N-13 because he's Katarina. SHE has been dead for 30 years. Of all people, the person who created the archive can prove who stole it in 1990. Expect Neville to be pissed because he's been chasing the wrong woman for 30 years. Ivan can reveal it all without revealing Red's real identity.

Neville’s comment about her innocence. “But Katarina Rostova was framed. Which means I dedicated my life to the hatred of an innocent woman.” This pushes back to Red’s comment in 8x2. “Is that the story she told you? She's a victim? An innocent wrongly accused?" What Ivan will be revealing to Neville. The real Katarina Rostova was no innocent. He knows Red is Katarina and he knows he’s dead either way because he created the archive that took Neville’s family. "Do you know who I am? Because I know who you are. You're the one who created the archive that destroyed my family." He’s gonna put Liz on the chopping block. "And I asked you to fly here so I could look you in the eye and tell you: I agree... for now." Because he has no idea she’s Katarina’s daughter, which means he has no idea she’s Red’s daughter.

Full drive through the rest of the season. The first person Neville would kill... is Liz.

#Anti-Tom Keen #Anti-Keen2 #Rederina #rewatch

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yee-fxcking-haw · 4 years ago

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What Happens Next?

A/N: This chapter is kind of short, so I hope you still enjoy it! The next chapter will definitely have a lot of smut and cheesy stuff in it so stay with me lol. If you want added to the taglist or if I was the worst and forgot to tag you please just message me and let me know!!

Summary: You and James finally have that long avoided talk.

Warnings: Violence, blood, mentions of mental illness, implications of sexual assault.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four Playlist

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Part Five

Annie's Diner

James orders two chocolate milkshakes and plate of fries, thanking the waitress with a beautiful smile. Sitting in this diner with him feels absolutely surreal. It's obvious to you why you've refused to say a word to him since prom. He makes you weak. You feel yourself falling again, you're so easily swayed by him and you don't even want to fight it.

"Are you sure that's all you want to eat?" He asks, obviously trying to be careful with his words.

You just nod without a word. You keep your eyes glued to the table, pretending to be very intrigued by it. It kills you that this is almost awkward. You never dreamed that you and James would ever have a moment that would feel this unnatural.

"Doll?" He says, his voice has a questioning tone.

"I told you not to call me that." You say without looking up. You don't want to hear him call you that name ever again, he poisoned it when he used it for that other girl.

"What's her name?" You ask quietly, glancing up at him.

He sighs deeply, accepting the inevitable question.

"Elise, I never wanted to take her to prom." He explains.

"So you dumped for me somebody you didn't even like! That makes me feel so much better, thank you so much James." You say, filled with anger at his sorry ass explanation.

"She started the rumors about you, not me. As soon as she got into the gym that night she started spreading them." He blurts out, obviously desperate to convince you of his innocence.

"Honestly, I don't care who started the rumors. It almost makes it worse that you didn't. If you had, then you would at least be able to plead the case of clinging to your own lie, of not wanting to embarrass yourself by telling everyone that you were an asshole that made that shit up. Since somebody else started them, you had nothing to lose by telling everyone the truth. You didn't though, so that's what matters, not who started them, but the fact that you didn't stop them." You finish your little rant with a huge sigh.

Does he really think that he's going to get out of this by blaming somebody else? James just sits there, eyes wide. He looks so defeated already, like you just sucked all the life out of him. Maybe he's really starting to grasp just how much pain he's subjected you to.

"You're right, I didn't. Because I cared too much about what people thought and I was scared. I was stupid, and selfish, and it made me lose the best thing that's ever happened to me." He looks at you with pleading eyes.

"Save the Shakespeare bullshit, James. If I was the best thing you've ever had you wouldn't have thrown me away for somebody who meant nothing." You retort.

"I did not fucking throw you away. I did not dump you. I showed up expecting to meet you with Elliot and Henry, but then the girls were there like an ambush or something." He says, his voice laced with frustration.

"Listen to me, if I had turned Elise down right then and there, your life would have become a living hell." He says, lowering his voice like he's scared somebody will hear.

"Right, because she didn't do that anyway." You snap, words dripping with sarcasm.

"Do you remember that girl at the beginning of the year, the one that sang the national anthem at the football game?" He asks urgently.

You try to think back, you do remember her a little. She wasn't here for very long though, just long enough to sing the national anthem and then she left the school abruptly. She had the most beautiful black hair, that seems to be the only detail you can remember about her.

"Elise wanted to sing that, but the principal liked the way Wendy sang it." You begin to put the pieces together.

"When Elise found out that she wasn't going to sing it, she got very close to Wendy all of a sudden. She found out that she was pregnant because she was foolin' around with one of the football players." He explains.

"So she told the principal and got Wendy expelled." You fill in the rest.

"Where's Wendy now?" You ask.

"Last I heard she left town, she was about 6 months pregnant when she moved. Her and her parents just up and left one day." He says.

"Is that according to Elise?" You ask.

"That's according to Andrew, the guy that knocked her up." He states.

You sit quietly for a second, could one girl really hold that much power over a school? You think back to when you were called to the principal's office that Monday afternoon. You had plead your case honestly, but all the principal had to say was, "Evidence suggests otherwise". What the hell did that even mean? It sort of made sense now. Adults have never been good at taking people your age seriously. Especially if it's a grown man being asked to listen to a young woman. Unless of course, that young woman has something to offer him.

"So you were scared of what Elise might have done, then you saved your ass by pretending you didn't know me?" You ask, not really angry just trying to understand.

"I hate myself for it, but yes." He says.

"How did she even know you'd be there?" You ask, realizing how stupid the question is.

"Elliot told Annette, then Annette told Elise. You know how it goes." Annette is obviously one of the two girls that accompanied Elise that night.

"She was the one stalking me." He says.

"Stalking you?" You ask, your eyebrows shooting up in shock.

Just then the waitress shows up with your milkshakes and fries, sets them down quietly and asks if you need anything else. You say "no thank you" a little too quickly, trying to get back to the story James is telling as fast as you can.

"You've gotta be kidding me." You say, popping a fry in your mouth. Your anger is disappearing slowly, but you still cling to the fact that he hasn't made it right until now though.

"She was obsessed with me man." He says, sipping his shake.

"I caught her driving past my house, I even caught her looking in my bedroom window when I came home one night. I was scared what she might do to you if I didn't go along with what she wanted at prom." He seems genuinely stressed, visibly upset by how everything played out.

You just sit and listen, munching on your fries, occasionally drinking your shake. Every part of you wants to be mad at him, to yell at him for not making it right before now. He didn't even want to make it right really, he just happened to be at the dance hall tonight. By pure coincidence he saw Daniel dragging you out of there. Right? He couldn't have known you would be there tonight… unless.

"Molly?" You ask, realization suddenly hitting you like a bus.

He's not confused at all, his eyes just go wide.

"Molly set this up with you didn't she?" You say, voice growing in volume.

"She may have given me a call." He says calmly.

"Oh my God." You whisper.

"Doll, please-." You cut him off by staring daggers at him for using the nickname.

"Sorry, just please hear me out." He says cautiously.

"That's what I've been doing." You scoff.

He ignores your snark and keeps talking, taking it as some form of permission.

"I couldn't show any sign that I knew you at prom, for obvious reasons. I couldn't come talk to you after, I never found out where you live, I never got your phone number, I had no way of reaching you except for at school where you wouldn't even look at me. For good reason I know, but I just couldn't get to you." The words spill out of his mouth like he's running out of time.

"Then of course there was Elise, she was always breathing down my neck constantly. I tried to confront her one time, asked her what the hell her problem was. All she said was that I should watch it or she would get the principal involved. I can only guess that her rich ass parents were pumping money into the school, or maybe she was-"

"Or she was sleeping with the principal?" You interrupt to ask out of morbid curiosity, your eyebrows high and eyes wide.

"That's a possibility." James says.

"Either way, she had some kind of hold on him. Something that made it very difficult for him to combat anything she told him." He says.

"Jesus, this is like some twisted murder novel." You exclaim.

"Now I hate to use this line, but please believe me when I say this." He says with begging eyes.

"In a very messy way, I was trying to protect you. And when you wanted nothing to do with me, I couldn't force myself back into your life because that would just make you hate me more. I couldn't tell the school the truth because Elise would have dragged you down with me. If it had just been my own ass on the line I would have told everyone and their mother the truth, but I couldn't let her make things worse for you."

You both sit in silence, him waiting for a response, you waiting for him to go on.

"As soon as I could I found Molly and told her everything. She told me it would be hard to do, but that she was certain we could fix this."

"Traitor." You mutter, earning a chuckle from him.

"I had to wait. I'm not just saying this to sound dramatic, I was genuinely afraid of what Elise might do if she ever found out how I felt about you. Which are feelings I still have, by the way." He says quietly.

You just sit there, dumbfounded. He was being stalked, genuinely stalked. That's why he was so stiff that night, so unlike himself. Holy shit. James actually has a pretty good reason for what he did. It's not perfect by far, and you could sit here all night arguing about other options he may or may not have had. That would be a waste of time though. There's just one question burning in the back of your mind.

"Why didn't you ask Molly where I live, or what number to call?" You ask.

"I told you, I couldn't force myself into your life with you already so angry with me. While Elise could hurt me with words, I'm quite confident you could whoop my ass if I pushed you enough." He says, a teasing smile on his lips.

"I didn't want to ruin it doll, the most I could hope for was a night like tonight. I told you, I had to just wait. If I had pushed you or cornered you that would have been the last straw and you know it. I had to hold on to that hope that I had a sliver of a chance to…" He stops for a second, his face knits into a very pensive look.

"A chance to love you again." He finishes, seemingly content with the words he's found.

You hate how much sense it all makes. If Elise is really that batshit, he really had no other option than to just let everything play out until he could find a way to talk to you. A chance like tonight.

"That afternoon, it's irreplaceable. I know a lot of it happened really fast, and a lot of it was really intense." He says, the look in his eyes tells you he's thinking about the way you made love. Both of you were so reckless and full of passion. Your chest burns with desire, heart aching for his touch again.

"Well then what about now, James? Are we supposed to just be together and expect Elise to be over it just because we're not at school anymore? Is she still stalking you?" You ask.

"She's not here anymore. Her family moved to Florida, not before she broke one of the windows in my house for not calling her back though." He says and lets out a little laugh.

"Well shit." You say.

"So let me get everything straight. One of your friends let it slip to one of her friends that you would be at prom. She surprise attacked you and then you panicked and did your best to make it seem like you didn't know in an attempt to protect me. That wasn't good enough for her, so she started the rumors about me being your stalker for good measure?" You ask.

He nods silently.

"Then I was so pissed off that I wouldn't talk to you, for good reason in my mind. You couldn't expose the rumors as lies without painting an even bigger target on my back, so you just gave me my space, waited for Elise to not be a problem anymore, then conspired with my best friend to get me to the dance hall so you could finally have your chance to explain?"

Another quiet nod.

You chew your lip, it does all add up. You try to think of what you would have done in that situation. Of course you want to say you would never throw James under the bus, you would stand up for him and bravely profess your love, but human nature is a bitch. People panic and scramble to do what they think is best based on instinct. That's what James had done. You can't even be mad at him for not trying to get you alone to talk sooner, because you know you would have been too blinded with rage to do anything except flail your fists at him like you had earlier tonight.

"I am so fucking sorry doll." You don't even flinch at the name now.

"After I've said all of that, I need you to know that I know it's my fault. I should have told you about Elise that night on the roof, I should have warned you and kept you safe that way. I just didn't know how to really throw in the fact that I was being stalked without absolutely ruining everything. It was all so perfect, everything was perfect with you. It was all so new and overwhelming, I couldn't think straight. So when I saw you there, in those damn boots and that dress, I just fucking panicked. I only ever wanted to keep you safe, that's all I wanted. I just fucked it up. I really fucked it up." There are tears in his eyes now, he pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and breathes deeply in through his nose.

He's watching you with those beautiful eyes, waiting for you to say something, anything.

Then it hits you, there's something he still hasn't done. With Elise gone he has no reason to not tell everyone she made it all up.

"Then why haven't you told everyone the truth? That I never stalked you, that Elise did, that it was all a lie and-"

"I have, everyone I could get to listen, I told. I told them as soon as Elise left." He says.

It makes sense that you never heard of him doing so. You've avoided everyone from highschool since you graduated. That would definitely explain the lack of stares and whispering at the dance hall. Your presence no longer caused anxiety in everyone, because they knew the truth.

"Why didn't you ever call the police on her Buck?" You ask, slipping back into the habit of using his nickname. His shoulders relax a little bit when he hears it leave your lips.

"What good would that do? She's too young to go to jail, so the only other place they'd put her in is the asylum." He says, his voice very serious.

You start to feel very sorry for Elise. She has all that beauty, but she's so very sick. You understand how somebody could be that crazy over James, he's everything a girl could want. Your mind wanders to what all Elise must have been through in order to be so unstable. Your heart aches for the girl you only spoke to once. You had seen her around school a handful of times now that you think about it hard enough. Always smiling, always talking to somebody, always looking so pretty. Even after she ruined prom for both of you, even after she stalked him at his house and damaged his property, he didn't want to ruin her life.

"Her friends came and talked to me after she started driving by my house. Of course I asked them what was wrong with her, all they could say was that her parents were both too obsessed with their wealthy socialite lives to give her the time of day, so she became desperate for any attention she could get, to the point of getting involved with faculty. They told me her family was moving eventually and begged me to let them and Elise's parents deal with the situation. That way Elise wouldn't get herself into a bigger mess." He says the last part with a low serious voice, your jaw drops when you catch his implication.

"Good God." You gape at him.

"So they begged you to wait until she had moved to tell everyone the truth, so she wouldn't snap and get herself into legal trouble?" You ask, filling in the blanks, everything making sense now.

He nods, "She left two weeks after graduation. She came to my house and cried on my porch for two hours the morning they moved."

He seems like he feels guilty, like he wishes he had done more.

"There's a million things I could have done differently, and I'm so sorry for all the things I should have done. I'm sorry for not telling you everything right away, I'm sorry for being so fucking cold to you at prom, I-"

"James." You say, reaching across the table to grab his hand, he stills completely and looks at you like a deer in headlights.

"It's ok. It was all a shitshow, and you were doing the best you could. I understand now, I can see how you were just trying to protect everyone. It's ok." You tell him.

Every ounce of anger and pain has left your body. It all makes sense now. James did all that he could to keep everyone involved from hurting anymore than they already were. At his own expense, maybe his execution wasn't flawless, but he did everything he could to make it right. He's still doing everything he can. He's sitting here with you, begging you for another chance, owning up to all the ways he fucked up. Had he really though? You realize something you haven't yet, James may very well have the biggest heart of anyone you know. Filled with enough kindness to even want to protect a person who made his life hell.

"She's sick James, you didn't want to fuck her life up anymore than it already had been. I don't blame you for that, I don't blame you for how you handled it." You explain.

God this night has done a complete turn around. As soon as you saw him, you agreed to talking with him and you fully expected him to tell you that he and Elise had been together all along, that he had gotten caught up in the moment with you and that he was sorry for leading you on. You never imagined that James had been carrying this load all by himself the past few months. It's all absolutely insane, and incredibly difficult to wrap your mind around. You feel so much relief at the fact that James had never lied to you about his feelings, and a significant amount of guilt for never reaching out to him to give him a chance to explain.

"I'm sorry that I never even-"

"Doll, don't. You had every reason to cut me out of your life. You were trying to protect yourself." He says, he squeezes your hand for reassurance.

You feel like you should have trusted what you shared that afternoon instead of acting purely on emotion, then maybe you would have been able to heal quicker. Then you remember the sensitive timeline with Elise, she would have done everything in her power to ruin what you and James have if she had been around to see it. Everything that happened had to happen that way for the safety of everyone involved.

"I haven't stopped loving you. I can't, I know I can't. Which sounds absolutely fucking insane, but I just feel it. You're still the most incredible thing I've ever seen." He says.

You don't even feel like you're in the diner anymore, it feels like you've floated to the roof and you're suspended in the sky, high off of the feeling of being loved again.

"It's ok if you can't say it back, I know we've only really spent half of a day together, but I've been miserable without you and I can't see myself ever feeling this way about somebody else so, I know what I feel. I know that I love you." He says it like somebody's about to cover his mouth to stop him from telling you.

You open your mouth to tell him that you love him too, that everything is ok, that you guys are going to figure it out, but you freeze when you hear the bell of the door jingle then see a large man in uniform walk through the door. You feel your entire body tense up, anxiety welling in your chest as your throat closes and your palms begin to sweat.

"Oh shit." You say quietly.

It's fucking Daniel, how the hell did he find you? He's accompanied by the boy that danced with Molly, and one other stocky blond man.

"What?" He asks, bewildered he turns his head towards the door.

"Oh shit." He says, whipping his head back around to look at you with terrified eyes.

"What's the plan if he-" James starts to say, but he's cut off by a loud voice.

"Hey punk, that's my girl you're sitting with." Daniel states, slurring his words just a little at the end.

James' chest inflates and he gives you a stern look. Anger flashes in his eyes.

"James don't." You try to say it as harshly as you can, but he's already moving before you can get the words out.

Everyone in the diner is frozen, watching with dropped jaws and wide eyes. Even the wait staff has paused to observe, those behind the counter have halted their cooking so they can gawk. This stupid small town, everyone's always so desperate for drama.

"Oddly enough, I don't remember her ever agreeing to be your girl." James starts, rolling up his sleeves as he talks. Is this idiot really about to try and fight off three soldiers?

"-but you don't strike me as a man who cares too much about consent." He says, dropping his voice a little to stress the weighty implications of his words.

Daniel's fists ball up at his sides, his friends start to glance around the diner with anxious eyes.

"Boys, if there's to be a fight y'all better take it outside." One of the older waitresses says loudly, obviously sick and tired of all these young bucks bringing their nonsense into her diner.

"What a great idea ma'am. Shall we gentlemen?" James asks with all the confidence in the world. God he really is an idiot.

"James-" You start, but the men are already stomping through the door into the parking lot.

"Fucking hell." You huff, you throw money down on the table out of your clutch, inevitably taking out way too much for some shakes and a plate of fries.

"Keep the change!" You say with an urgent voice as you gather yourself and run towards the door.

The boys have circled around to the side of the building, horrible fluorescent lights illuminating the scene. They've got James completely surrounded, almost backing him into a wall already. You know you aren't going to be able to stop this, not with all the damn testosterone and adrenaline already pumping through all of them. The most you can do is make sure it's a fair fight.

"Alright look. If y'all are gonna fight, you're not going to do this bullshit where you just outnumber him so you can win." You nearly shout.

"This is between James and Daniel, you goons need to step off." You say it like you're a strict teacher telling them off for whispering in class. You can't fucking believe that you're playing referee for this idiotic dick measuring contest.

"Unless you're all cowards who don't feel like you could beat him unless the fight is unfair." You finish then cross your arms, your plan to challenge their masculinity obviously working.

"I could take this prick in my sleep." Daniel says, rolling up his sleeves with clumsy drunk hands, "Watch and learn boys." His two friends glance at each other then take the cue to step back and let this fight be his.

James gives you a quick look, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a cocky smirk. His eyes say thank you, while he rolls his shoulders back and brings his fists up while Daniel steps towards him. Your fool in shining armor runs a hand through his hair and winks at you, you assume to thank you for getting Daniel's cronies to back off. You internally curse him for looking so damn handsome.

"Was one hit not enough pal? You want some more?" James says, cocky as ever. Your stomach twists with nerves, he's pushing it. He and Daniel are about the same size. Daniel is maybe an inch or two taller, but James has more bulk to him. Of course you want to say James is going to win, but it could really go either way.

Daniel sneers at him then cracks his knuckles, taking a hulking step towards James. James opens his mouth to make another snarky remark, but is cut short by Daniel's fist landing right on his jaw. Right where you hit him earlier. It makes a horrible cracking sound and blood sprays out of his mouth. You gasp and have to fight the urge to run and stand between them, knowing that would only make James more bent on fighting for you.

He seems completely dazed by the impact, stumbling back while he holds his face. He pulls his right hand away to look at the blood pouring out of his mouth. Before you can even process it, Daniel lunges at James, knocking him to the ground. They both smack on the pavement with a grunt, Daniel has James pinned to the ground and he just starts swinging, hitting anywhere he can, much like you did earlier. Except Daniel is drawing blood. James has his arms up, acting like a cage over his face. They're taking most of the blows, but Daniel occasionally gets his fist through to hit his face again.

"Fucking do something!" You scream at his gawking friends. They both jump and look at each other, not having any idea what to do.

"Stop!" You scream, running over to where Daniel is still laying into James.

You know you won't stand a chance just using your fists, so all you can think to do is kick. Kick like hell. You run up to Daniel, you bring your upper body in tight then let your right leg swing forward, bringing your foot full force into Daniel's face. He howls and falls back off of James, who takes the opportunity to jump and scramble backwards.

"You fucking whore!" Daniel yells, standing up to stalk towards you. That's when his friends finally intervene, each grabbing an arm to hold him back.

"Call the police, somebody call the police!" A woman's voice yells from behind you. You look wildly around, unaware of the crowd that had gathered.

Daniel and his friends panic at those words, faces white as they scramble back towards their car. Daniel turns and spits at you, swearing under his breath while his friends drag him away.

You hear James groan and your heart freezes in your chest. He's lying flat on his back, hands holding his face.

"Oh God, James." You run to him and drop to your knees. There's blood coming from his nose and his mouth, and his left eye is already swelling. He lets out a breathy laugh, gazing at you with heavy eyelids.

"I'm alright doll, doesn't hurt half as bad as when you socked me." He says, lopsided smirk spreading across his lips.

"You fucking idiot. Bucky, what the hell were you thinking?" You ask, cradling his head, you wipe his hair off of his forehead and cup his jaw. He looks up at you with an earnest look in his bright blue eyes, they appear almost silver in this lighting.

"He said you were his girl." He says with a weak voice.

"So?!" You almost yell at him, but you catch yourself.

"You're my girl." He says simply, then he winces and screws his eyes shut. His face relaxes and his head goes limp and falls to the side. Your chest fills with terror.

"James? James!" You yell, shaking him while you do. You know he isn't dead, but he's still unconscious, and that's enough to panic you. You hear somebody yell about an ambulance, but all you can focus on is James. God, this is all your fault.

@b-o-n-e-daddy @lillsrecs @all-art-is-quite-useless @brownlee-22 @peace-love-hobbitness @pinknerdpanda @supernaturalwintersoldier @can-i-sin-right-now @pennyroyalcreep @jessyballet @calwitch @aurora-sweet @learisa

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky x you #captain america #marvel smut #sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes imagine #marvel fanfiction #comics #comic fantasy #marvel

45 notes · View notes

snarkwrites · 4 years ago

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12 | gangsta; sweetpea

NOTES:

It's been a while. I've had these two chapters written for a while now but I haven't had time to sit down, edit them a little better and post them. Since I have time now, I thought I'd go ahead and do that, whether you guys asked for these next two chapters or not.

Sorry this took forever! Sorry I'm so slow, I've been settling into a new house and taking care of some IRL stuff / taking a little break. I swear, I'm going to update everything sooner or later. >.>

I love you guys.

WARNINGS:

NON/ LOOSE CANON COMPLIANCE - this is the biggest warning, so if you’re into things that follow exact canon plot you are… definitely not going to like this. ANGST & SLOW BURN, HEAVY SEXUAL TENSIONSTARTING NOW, ACTUALLY - this is just so everyone who started reading this thinking the smut would transpire in a hurry knows that apparently, it is not. VIOLENCE / SWEARING & FIGHTING, POSSIBLE UNDERAGE DRINKING AND OTHER SHENANIGANS- look.. it’s high school. shit happens. also apparently, my ofc Alyssa uses the word fuck like all the time?…EVENTUAL SEXUAL CONTENT / A VIRGIN ORIGINAL CHARACTER- this one is self explanatory. yes, i plan to write a smutty chapter in this at some point. when? i don’t rightly know. it’s got a while before we get there. STALKER TW - this chapter marks the true appearance of Alyssa's ex, Dave Novak. It's hinted heavily that he's a gross asshole who likes to play mind games.

If you're under 18+, probably not a good or wise idea to continue reading this series. Because there are going to be a few dark and adult themes within. I'll warn here, of course, but you need to understand that I don't control you. If you continue to read after having read the warnings and you're upset or don't like something... Totally on you, friend.

PAIRING:

Andrews!Sibling OFC x Sweet Pea.

TAGGING:

@brithedemonspawn is the only person on my Riverdale tag list. If you want to be added, the link to do so is below.

OTHER PARTS:

ONE - TWO - THREE - FOUR - FIVE - SIX - SEVEN - EIGHT - NINE - TEN- ELEVEN - soundtrack

OTHER STUFF:

[ about my writing - tag list doc ]

T W E L V E.

[773 - 589 - 7956] attachment

[773 - 589 - 7956] I think I decided how you can repay me, scarlet…

[773 - 589 - 7956] Better enjoy your quiet and happy little life while you still have it, scarlet. Because soon it’s all going to be ripped right out of your pretty little hands.

[773 - 589 - 7956] That boyfriend of yours isn’t even gonna be able to save you this time, scarlet. You’re mine.

[773 - 589 - 7956] See you soon, scarlet.

Each new text that came in had me tensing up. Careful to keep my phone out of sight of anyone who was nearby. My heart was about to beat right out of my chest and my stomach felt like it sank to the floor. I was barely listening to anything being said around me and I guess it was more obvious than I thought because Toni cleared her throat, nodding to the phone in my hand.

Gazing at me in concern.

“Everything okay? You look like you’re going to be sick.”

“Yeah,yeah. Everything is fine.” I lied. I think at that particular point in time, I was just trying to convince myself that this was all some kind of bad dream. Or worst case scenario, Dave was making empty threats.

Toni eyed me suspiciously. I tried to give her a convincing smile, but I’d have had to be an idiot to even think for a second that she believed me. She eyed my phone and reached for it. I managed to shove it in my pocket.

“Trust me.” I pleaded. She gave me a wary look and sighed, grumbling “Fine, okay. Alright.” under her breath.

And I did my best to push the texts out of my head. Jumping in the conversation she had going on with Cheryl and Veronica. Laughing and talking as if nothing were wrong.

Lying through the skin of my teeth.

XXX

“What’s got you so jumpy?”

The question caught me off guard. I wanted to tell someone what was going on, I really did, but… I didn’t want to worry anyone, either. I was at least 99.9 percent sure that there was absolutely no way that Dave would show up in Riverdale, at least that’s what I was hoping.

I did my best to play it off. Shoveling french fries into my mouth just so I didn’t have to answer right away. My cell phone lit up and I flinched before I could stop myself.

Toni reached for it and I quickly grabbed it and shoved it in my pocket. She gave me a concerned look and I muttered quietly, “Probably just Reggie...again.”

“Reggie’s with that new girl though?” Cheryl spoke up. Gazing at me thoughtfully. My breath caught in my throat because if anyone would catch on to there being something truly wrong with me or something off in the way I was acting, it’d be her or Polly.

So far, I’d managed to fool everyone else into thinking I was alright, even my dad and my brother.

,, Dave won’t come here, it’s not worth the hassle. He’s just playing mind games. That’s all this is. Pull yourself together.” the thought came and I managed a smile, shrugging.

“You’ve been acting weird all week, now that I’m thinking about it.” Cheryl was the one who said it and she gave me an expectant look. Waiting.

“I have not.”

,, I do have one secret I can spill. Maybe if I tell them about my crush on Sweetpea…” and so that’s what I did. Sighing as I reached for the shared plate of fries between the three of us. Raking my fries through my vanilla milkshake and taking a few deep breaths to kind of collect myself, both from Dave’s harassing texts and what I was finally about to get off my chest about having feelings for Sweetpea.

“You have. Start talking.” Toni spoke up, watching me. Sizing me up. If I had to guess, I’d pin money on her sitting across the booth, trying to figure out what was up with my jumpy attitude all week.

“Okay, alright. Fine. But what I’m about to tell you two does not leave this table, okay? It.. It can’t. If Sweetpea ever found out, pretty sure he’d start avoiding me and things would get weird.”

Toni and Cheryl exchanged a look and then Toni nodded. Chewing a mouthful of fries as she muttered calmly, “Go on.”

“ I may or may not have a crush on Sweetpea.”

“Oh, you definitely have a crush on him. It’s kind of obvious.” Cheryl gave a soft teasing grin and I sighed. Dragging my hand through my hair and taking a few seconds to let her words sink in. I almost dreaded asking, but I felt like I had to given that she said it was obvious. “Oh god.. He doesn’t suspect anything.. Right?”

“Oh, he’s the only one whose oblivious. But the rest of us, we’ve known a while.” Toni teased me. Then asked calmly, “Is that all? Why’s that have you so jumpy?”

“Because I know how bad I am at hiding things, okay? I was kind of… I dunno, freaking out I guess.” I eyed her, waiting. Searching her face in the hopes that she accepted what I said and didn’t keep pushing. A few seconds passed and she laughed softly. Took a sip of her strawberry milkshake and asked with a smirk, “Are you gonna do anything about it?”

“Probably not. Every time I even think about it, I manage to talk myself right out of it. He’d laugh his ass off, okay? Besides, remember all the flirting he was doing with Josie when they had to work together during the play?” I pouted as I pointed it out.

Cheryl and Toni exchanged looks and Toni laughed. “He was doing that to make you jealous. Or that’s what I think he was doing. Either way… I think you should do something. He’s not going to and trust me… I’ve known the guy my whole life. I know him well enough to say that I know he has a thing for you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been so cranky when you two first met?”

“I thought he was just naturally grumpy?”

“Oh, he is, but the way he was towards you was totally different. He’s only that grumpy when he’s trying to keep his defenses up.” Toni informed me before finishing off her shake.

The door to the diner opened and Sweetpea walked in, Fangs in tow. The two of them were laughing about something. I gave both Cheryl and Toni a pleading look and Cheryl seemed to pick up on my unspoken plea to change the subject thankfully, because she asked, “Are you going to F.P’s retirement party at the Wyrm?”

“Yeah.” I answered, finishing off my milkshake. Sweetpea flopped into the booth beside me, carelessly slinging an arm over the back of the seat. His hand brushed against my shoulder and I swear just the small brush against me felt like someone had taken a livewire and dragged it over my body real slow.

Toni smirked at me, nodding at Sweetpea while he was too busy wolfing down french fries to notice and I shook my head.

“I dare you. No… I triple dare you.. Flirt with him.” Toni gave a teasing grin as she mouthed the words to me and I swallowed hard.

She’s not playing fair. She knows I can’t turn down a dare.

I happened to glance out the window of the diner and when I thought I saw Dave standing there, leaning against a streetlamp, one hand in his pocket and a cigarette dangling between his lips, I nearly choked. This prompted Sweetpea to start hitting me on the back lightly as he laughed and looked at me in concern. “Damn cherry, are you trying to kill yourself?”

Toni’s brow raised and Sweetpea explained what happened earlier in the day, how I’d nicked myself with the scalpel in our first period class while doing a dissection. What Sweetpea didn’t know was that when it happened, it was because I thought I’d seen Dave standing outside in the parking lot, only to blink and the parking lot be empty.

I have got to stop letting his stupid mind games get to me. It’s just because he’s texting me again. It’s just because he knows how to work me up and get me all scared, he used to be good at it when we dated.

He’d never come to Riverdale. He’s just doing this to me for his own sick amusement and every single time I let him get to me, especially when I’m to a point where I’m so paranoid I’m imagining that I see him everywhere lately, it’s letting him win and that pisses me off more than anything.

I’m supposed to be stronger than that, damn it.

Toni eyed me suspiciously and I braced myself. When she didn’t bring up my skittish behavior, I relaxed a little.

I wanted to tell someone what was going on, but at the same time, why? I’m pretty sure this is just Dave, being an absolute bag of dicks.

It has to be that. It has to be.

XXX

He stood outside some podunk little diner right in the heart of town. The hazy red neon gave off a comforting and inviting warmth and he lit his cigarette, fuming in anger as he watched her sitting inside.

“I know you’re not ignoring me, scarlet. I know you’re not.” he muttered, mostly to himself as he turned the collar of his leather jacket up against the wind and started to walk towards the South Side.

Maybe it was time he paid his old buddy Eric a visit. Eric was out of prison. Eric was the one who’d told him where Alyssa was to begin with, though he didn’t realize it.

Dave chuckled and shook his head as he walked towards the shitty apartments on the opposite end of town where Eric lived. Eric owed him a few favors. He was coming to collect.

“Did you really think I was jokin when I told ya I have friends all over? That you weren’t ever gonna get away from me?” he mused to himself as he knocked on the door of a first floor slum apartment.

Eric opened the door, leaning in it lazily. Blinking at him in a daze and smirking. High fiving him as he asked him why he was in town.

Dave whipped out his phone, showing Eric a picture of Alyssa. At first he gave him some story about her running off while he was in the pen. Eric wasn’t buying it, he could see it written in the expression on his face. And that only made him angry. Eric owed him. He was here to collect the favor owed. All he wanted was for Eric to help him out on this one little thing.

Eric shook his head, chuckling in disgust. Gazing at him with a brow raised. “I think you need to leave, man. Now. You don’t want the heat this is gonna bring down on you. And I’m not about to get on a Serpent’s bad side, even if the Serpent in question is just a damn kid.”

“See, I’d like to just put this all behind me, man... but she’s the whole reason I even went to prison to begin with. Then I get out and find out not only is my girl not loyal, she’s also the one who snitched on me?” Dave eyed Eric. Getting irritated because this was not how he saw the conversation going.

“I’m telling you, you need to leave. Forget about Alyssa. I see her around all the time with some kid… Sweet Pea or Green Bean, some shit. The Serpents are not people you fuck with, man. Not around these parts.”

“You know the Serpents aren’t shit to me… Right?” Dave quipped, smirking. “I’ve got this under control. I just need you to help me out a little… C’mon, man. You owe me.”

“I don’t fucking care. I’m not helping you do whatever it is you’re here to do. What I oughta do is put a bullet in your fucking head for even thinking I’d be down for this shit. She’s a kid, man. A fucking kid... Favor or not, man… I’m on the Serpents side with this. Not yours. You need to leave.” Eric warned, giving Dave a firm glare as he folded heavily tattooed arms over his chest.

“Oh, so that’s how you’re playin, huh? Okay. Alright. All I wanna do is see her again. I’m not going to do anything. I just want to straighten things out. Get a little closure on the situation...”

Eric scoffed. “This coming from the king of overreaction. I don’t trust you.I’m breakin code of my gang by even talking to your ass. Nope. The answer is no. I’m not helping. Do whatever you have to do to me, but I’m not about to help you scare some kid. I’ve got better things to do with my time, buddy...”

Dave’s arm shot out and he pinned Eric against the door of his apartment. Smirking at him calmly. “I know you haven’t forgotten just how much your sorry ass owes me. Because that’s what this sounds like.”

“I guess that’s what it is then. Because I’ve seen what the Serpents can do. I’m not about to bring all that down on my head.” Eric stepped back inside his apartment, slamming the door in Dave’s face, leaving him to glare at the closed door and take a swing.

“Guess I’m doing this all by myself.” Dave mused as he turned and wandered down to a shitty dive bar nearby. He needed to have a few rounds. Come up with a plan.

And a little after midnight, after finding himself a few new talkative friends in some local Ghoulies, things were starting to look up for him. And he was slowly forming a plan.

Now he just had to wait. Pick his moment. Toy with her a little more.

“I’m so close I can almost touch you, scarlet. Soon… Soon you’re going to pay for running your mouth to mommy about me...” he smirked to himself as he unlocked his hotel room and stepped inside.

#sweetpea fanfiction #sweetpea fanfic #sweetpea fic #sweetpea imagine #sweetpea imagines #my writing ; sweetpea #my fanfiction; sweetpea #my fics; sweetpea #// stalker tw #// seriously. these next two parts are gonna get a little... scary.#// you have been warned

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luvbug724 · 4 years ago

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hiii ive been thinking abt neil running post-tkm whatre ur thoughts on that 🤨 i feel its not Too common but it comes up often enough in fandom and is always triggered in neil by something so he runs and either comes back or doesnt but i cant rlly see that happening? also similarly do u think neil would have some troubles w accepting permanence in his life? i was thinking hed def have some habits he wouldnt need anymore but w main threats gone + a life he wants to keep it wldnt be a huge issue..

WAIT my last ask when i say like permanence ex: neil panicking abt captaincy in tkm do u think hed have similar experiences later on w similar aspects of living in one place? (and this maybe triggering the need to run in turn)

holy cow first of all i got so excited when i got this ask you don’t even know. this has definitely been something that’s been sitting in the back of my mind but it was never something that bothered me enough to share online. SECOND of all, i mean absolutely no disrespect to anybody who might disagree with me on this or has written neil in this scenario-- it’s all fiction we’re all having fun here and my characterization may differ from yours and that’s fine! even if i might not be a fan of the concept i still read and support fics that include it if i like the writing :) this got very long and some people probably won’t be interested in reading it, so my response is under the cut :’)

but as for your question, anon, i completely agree with you. when i got this notification the first scene my mind went to was chapter nine of tkm right after wymack offers neil the vice captaincy. this was, probably, one of the worst sequences of events that could have possibly happened to neil: some of his most fundamental lies are exposed to his team, he’s confronted with his past, he has to reveal some truths that he never planned on saying, and now here’s his coach insisting on a future he so desperately wants but doesn’t think he’ll live long enough to have. neil should have already had a new name in a new country three months ago and instead he’s at palmetto state in the public eye right for the moriyamas and wesninskis to watch.

and what does he do?

He didn't remember pulling it from his pocket or making the decision to dial out. He lowered it and tapped a button, thinking maybe he'd imagined things, but Andrew's name was on his display and the timer put the call at almost a minute already.

Neil put the phone back to his ear, but he couldn't find the words for the wretched feeling that was tearing away at him. In three months championships would be over. In four months he'd be dead. In five months the Foxes would be right back here for summer practices with six new faces. Neil could count his life on one hand now. On the other hand was the future he couldn't have: vice-captain, captain, Court. Neil had no right to mourn these missed chances. He'd gotten more than he deserved this year; it was selfish to ask for more.

He should be grateful for what he had, and gladder still that his death would mean something. He was going to drag his father and the Moriyamas down with him when he went, and they'd never recover from the things he said. It was justice when he'd never thought he'd get any and revenge for his mother's death. He thought he'd come to terms with it but that hollow ache was back in his chest where it had no right to be. Neil felt like he was drowning.

Neil found his voice at last, but the best he had was, "Come and get me from the stadium.”

andrew grounds him, comes for him, and makes sure that neil can’t run. but this was just one very extreme situation, so here’s how i think his future may play out: no matter how much neil wants to go, he needs to stay even more. and, unlike the above situation, neil now has explicit permission (a command, even) to stay with the foxes, to stay with his family. i think he will be fine for a long while until there comes a moment where he realizes that he’s here to stay and he has a home and he has the foxes and he has andrew and it’s honestly a toss up as to how he would react. the first option would be that it’s overwhelming in a very, very good way and nothing much changes. the second option (which seems way more in character for neil) is instead: he panics, and he needs something to keep him tethered to psu. he might seek out andrew like he did in canon or he might try to hide it to not worry him, but i’d place my bets on somewhere in the middle where he makes sure andrew knows whats going on but tries to downplay its importance.

anyways, i wrote all this before i even checked with nora’s ec to see if she’s said anything in a similar context and she DID and and it was pretty much compliant with my ideas which i am very happy about:

“He’s more likely to walk away or tell Neil to get over it or look right past whatever existential/psychological crisis Neil is having. Neil’s grumpiness after a loss are brushed aside unimportant, and his aggravation over uncooperative teammates is nothing to pity him for.

But once in a long while Neil will hit a ledge he has to be pulled back from, and that’s what Andrew does. Like in Baltimore, when Neil is trying to say Do you want me to go, and Andrew catches hold and tells him Stay. This is how Andrew comforts: by being a stabilizing force, an anchor to keep Neil at home, a place to rest his weight and his secrets. Honestly, that’s what Neil needs.” (Andrew comforting Neil)

“Impatience kind of worked in Baltimore, but I guess it’s not a one-size-fits-all kind of ordeal. Forced eye contact and Look at me and a ruder calm down right now. ((Thanks Andrew, really sympathetic of you)) Andrew gives Neil the weight to connect him to the real world: a hand on the back of his neck or fingers hooked in the collar of his shirt to drag Neil home to him.” (Andrew re: Neil’s panic attacks)

now, as for neil adjusting to just a plain stationary life, i think he’d adjust relatively easily. his entire life was fitting in which i don’t think he’d have a big problem with, but the new element of how he’s not pretending anymore, he’s just neil josten, might throw him off a little bit. there’s likely going to be some habits he picked up that he can’t shake and some associations (alcohol isn’t for fun, it’s an anesthetic is one that comes to mind) that he never quite gets rid of but despite how much might get thrown at him, after everything he survived freshman year it’d take a fucking lot to push him to his breaking point.

#is this coherant? who knows!#but tysm for the ask i love sharing my opinions its very fun #aftg #aftg meta #neil josten

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castillo-adrian · 4 years ago

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A Rainy Day in Paris | Part 2

December 23rd. Morning.

An escape wasn’t really a possibility. These weren’t some gang of street fighters who got lucky, these were professionals who had been responsible for sustaining the national security by neutralising their enemies in the most proficient way possible. Adrian would know, they’d done it together. The method with which he’d been chained to the chair had been straight out of the GIGN handbook, too – if you tried to break free and pull at your hands, the rope on your throat would choke you to death before you could break away. In some morbid, prideful moment, Adrian felt relieved he’d be going out this way – by the hands of men he once called his brothers and sisters in arms, not random mobster muscles. As far as dying went, this would be as good as he could get.

Adrian did wonder why they were taking their time. They weren’t the type to make a spectacle out of a murder. Then, as if they’d heard his thoughts, Philippe provided an explanation, not before his fist clashing with Adrian’s abdomen, leaving him unable to breathe for a few seconds.

“Drink,” Philippe held a bottle of water near his face, “I need you to last until 26th. You’ll be our Christmas present for Laure and Varden. He’s been through enough shit, we’re going to let him have Christmas in peace. Laure, too. So she can spend it with her kids, instead of having to be reminded of you,” Philippe said with resentment, “Aren’t you a godfather to Olivier, by the way? Fucking shame. At least he’s alive, unlike Varden’s son.”

The assassin’s jaw clenched. Not out of anger at anyone in particular, rather the tragedy of the situation. Adrian didn’t carry much guilt, but not being able to prevent Gabriel’s death hadn’t be easy to write off.

He stayed silent.

Samir, who’d been hanging in the back for the most part, rammed a plank of wood into Adrian with so much force, it wouldn’t take a medical examination to guess he’d cracked a rib or two.

It wasn’t the pain that was too much to handle, it’s the fact that he couldn’t fight back.

On the flipside, it was his silence that make his former friends snap.

Minute after minute had passed, maybe hours, even. Adrian had lost count how long the absolute frenzy of violence had lasted. After all, they’d been taking out six years worth of frustration.

December 23rd. Noon.

They’d been taking shifts. Agnès had been the first. He knew it was because she still hoped to hear the answers. An attempt had been made, a genuine one on his part, to give her some clarity, for the first and the last time. All the reasons leading to leaving the St. Clair Organisation – losing his father early and having to support his family, hating furthering the agenda of the mob that had the city he loved wrapped into its tentacles, losing purpose and sense of belonging, and finally, not being able to kill a man in front of his child. All the reasons he stayed with the Rutherfords – newfound purpose, a chance to teach, a chance to lead, new friends.

As expected, it hadn’t been enough for Agnès. Not that Adrian could fault her – after all, their experiences in life couldn’t have been more different. She, simply couldn’t relate, couldn’t empathise. Nevertheless, he’d hoped it brought her some semblance of closure.

December 24th. A few minutes past midnight.

A metallic sound of chair being dragged across the floor woke him up. When Adrian raised his head and looked up, Agnès was gone, and sat in front of him was Cédric.

“Believed it not, none of us are enjoying this. Not really,” the Frenchman rubbed his face and let out a sigh. “We were no Laure or Julien, or Évelyne, but Agnès and Philippe, and me, we considered you a friend. Samir, he looked up to you. When he thought you died, he cried, and I’ve never seen him shed a tear. Ever,” Cédric crossed his arms against his chest. For a moment his mind drifted off somewhere else. Adrian wondered if he was thinking about Évelyne.

“You haven’t told Év, have you?” Adrian asked. “It’s fine. I’m sure she won’t be upset with you. At this point, she may want me dead, too.” The last conversation they had got heated. It was better not to dwell on what happened when he last talked to Évelyne.

“No,” Cédric didn’t elaborate. “Do you remember that mission in Lybia?”

“Sure. Harmattan?”

“You saved my life.” Cédric’s words carried a myriad of emotions – nostalgia, hesitation, regret, compassion. “I told you back then that I owed you one.”

“And I told you that you didn’t. It was my job to have your back.”

“No, you’re not understanding what I’m trying to say,” Cédric pulled out a combat knife.

Adrian gave him a puzzled look.

“I owe you one,” the Frenchman repeated as he got up from his chair and walked behind Adrian. “But now we’re even.”

When the assassin felt the rope around his neck loosen, he realised what was happening.

“Are you sure?” Adrian rubbed at his wrists, trying to get back the normal blood flow after hours upon hours of being tied up.

“I pay my debts. Always.” Cédric tossed the rope on the floor. “But if we meet again, there will be no mercy.”

Adrian nodded. There was still honour among thieves, turned out.

“Wait. Before you go, I need you to stab me,” Cédric handed him his knife. “I need to make it look like you stole the knife off of me and got away. You might be comfortable with being branded a traitor, but I’m not.”

He obliged.

December 24th. Half an hour later.

The 24-hour pawn shop was still at the same address where Adrian remembered. He woke up the owner with a ‘ding’ of the counter bell and flashed a Rolex original in the man’s face. A gift from Andrew Rutherford and one of the most valuable possessions Adrian owned, but if he were to get out of country before his former friends caught up to him, he needed money and the watch was the only thing Adrian had on him.

“This is a real Rolex,” the man declared after examining the item for a few minutes, “I just made deposit at the bank today. Don’t have that much cash right now. You should come back tomorrow.”

“Wait,” Adrian pushed the watch back towards the pawn shop owner, “How much do you have?”

“500 Euroes,” the man said suspiciously.

“I’ll take it,” Adrian tried to wrap up the world’s worst bargain as soon as possible.

Well, five hundred Euroes had been just enough to buy a burner phone to call Johnathan and get a cab driver to drop him off at the nearest city close to the Swiss border.

Escaping via the Channel wouldn’t have been smart, he thought. That’s where they’d expect him, not all the way to Switzerland, where by some kind of miracle was exactly he’d been expected.

The driver dropped him off in Dijon.

Hours disappeared into on another, he sat in the highway café, hoping one of the passing trucks would take him to Swizerland.

Finally, his luck started to turn. The man who agreed to let him tag along was a rather loud Corsican with a terrible sense of humour.

“I promise I’m not a murderer,” the Corsican burst into a headache inducing laughter as he put the truck into ignition.

“Good to know,” Adrian leaned into his seat. Five more hours and he’d be in Zermatt.

#Selfpara

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egcdeath · 4 years ago

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a blip in the reader-verse

chapter 6: extra! extra! read all about it

series summary: a minor mistake causes a shift in the multiverse that only you have the capacity to fix.

chapter summary: you kept your friends close, and your enemy even closer.

pairing: politician!andy barber x journalist!reader, steve rogers x reader

word count: 4k

warnings: american politics, fake dating/marriage, angst at the end, heavy codependent behavior at the end

author’s note: i saw @jtargaryen18 post about politician!steve a while ago and must’ve internalized it because this chapter pretty much wrote itself. just a heads up: all of my political knowledge comes from political sitcoms, so sorry in advance if i get some things wrong. another warning is that there are still some very unhealthy relationship dynamics at play here, so promise me you won’t be like reader okay?

previous chapter / series masterlist

Is Andy Barber Really the Best for Our Nation’s Future?

Opinion

by Y/N L/N

Feb 7, 2021, 4:36 PM ET

After tonight’s debate, the question that’s begged is if Andrew Barber is truly fit to run our country. Although he’s clearly a front runner for his party’s nomination, he’s shown time and time again that he may actually be our weakest candidate.

His weaknesses were highlighted during the debate, with his dodged questions and vague answers. At this point in time, it’s hard to tell if Barber has a platform at all.

With Super Tuesday just around the corner, I ask you to reevaluate your support for Barber. Though a charming candidate, it seems that that’s all he has, his charm. His policies are weak, and borderline impossible, and he certainly isn’t the right person to become the most powerful man in the world.

—-

When you became conscious, you were no better than unconscious. Your eyes opened and were immediately met with a harshness from the sun peeking through a window. You shifted away from the brightness, body sinking into a memory foam mattress while your nude form rubbed against similarly soft sheets. You sleepily rubbed your eyes before they flitted throughout the room you were in. Observing an oddly clean, generic looking area, you’d quickly connected the dots that you were in a hotel room. A rather fancy one at that.

Soft breathing came from next to you, and as you turned your head a bit more, you were met with the back of a fluffy and dark haired man. You weren’t completely sure, but judging by your history of finding your way to Steve, you’d assumed that it was some alternate form of your partner.

The man in bed next to you yawned, and haphazardly threw an arm in your direction, before rolling over to greet you, “morning sunshine,” he slurred sleepily.

The beard was a bit of a surprise to you. Though you’d begged and begged your Steve to keep it, he often refused for one reason or another. Seeing the man next to you who (what was now much clearer to you) a version of your boyfriend, was a rather pleasant surprise.

“Morning,” you responded in an equally sleepy manner, ignoring the rhythmic vibration coming from your night stand.

“Mm, you should get that,” he mumbled, pressing a disoriented peck to the side of your head while you reached over to grab your phone, which you could now see was the perpetrator of the vibrations.

“Hello?” you asked into the phone.

“Are you dumb? Or are you fucking stupid?” Aaliyah’s voice scolded through the phone. “Do you know what kind of position you’ve put me in? This is a fucking mess, Y/N. All for some dick? How could you be so careless?! Jesus!”

“What are you talking about?” You glanced over at Andy, and sat up a bit, pulling the crisp blankets over your body in an attempt to retain some form of modesty.

“Don’t play dumb with me. You’re fucking Andy Barber, but you’re writing articles about him like you just watched him kill your dog. You realize that this puts all of us at risk, right? You’re gonna lose your job, I’m gonna lose my job since I decided to edit and publish your shit, and you and I will lose any sort of journalistic integrity we’ve ever had, or will have, for the rest of goddamn time! Seriously, you could’ve had anyone, but Andy Barber? Andrew fucking Barber?” she groaned over the line.

“Uh, I’ll uh, call you back,” you whispered.

“You’re joking right? Are you with him right now?”

“Aaliyah!”

“Oh my god, you’re with him right now. You’re a fucking mess,” she huffed before hanging up.

Why did the universe have to send you off to such a shitshow?

You rolled out of bed, and sulked into the bathroom, desperate to find out what was going on. While sitting on the toilet, you scrolled through the wall of notifications; tweets directed at you, messages from confused friends begging you to call them when you had a chance, and even the occasional concerned email.

You grimaced as you read through each one of them, eventually clicking on the article that many seemed to be referencing, which included a paparazzi photo of you and this Andy Barber character entering a hotel together sometime in the late night to early morning, partnered with an article or two of your own criticizing him. At first, you wondered if he was some sort of celebrity, but what you ultimately found out was much worse.

He was a politician. A senator who was running to be president.

You screamed into your hands, before tossing your phone aside, and starting a warm shower for yourself. Perhaps the shower could help jog your memory a bit.

Stepping into the steamy chamber, and letting the water pelt down onto you did do wonders for you, and it gave you a moment of focus. With both your memories from this universe, along with the information you’d been given through your phone, you were able to piece a few aspects of the universe together.

You were a journalist, a popular one at that, Andy was Steve, but not Steve, and also a presidential candidate. Aaliyah was your editor, and a higher-up at the Times, and you were about to have your ass handed to you over an affair. At least Andy wasn’t married.

Your shower must’ve taken longer than you’d expected, as there was a soft knock on the door after some time.

“Everything okay in there?” a slightly muffled voice asked.

“Yeah. Just peachy. Why aren’t you more worried about this?” you called back.

“I have a good publicist. And campaign manager. I just have a good team,” Andy paused briefly. “When you’re ready, room service is ready.”

----

Over aggressive mouthfuls of fresh fruit and bitter coffee, you conversed with Andy.

“How are we gonna fix this?” You questioned while setting down your fork.

“Well, it’s simple. We just have to find some kind of spin to this whole story. Maybe you were just interviewing me, or getting a soundbite from me.” “Why would you agree to get a soundbite from someone who clearly has it out for you?” You set your fork down, and crossed your arms over your white robe clad chest.

“That’s a good question,” Andy nodded a bit, “a good question for someone else to answer.”

“Why don’t we let your publicist figure out how to play this?”

“I’d say I’m a bit of an expert at this at this point, but I’ll call my team.”

“You do that, I need to assess the damage to my career,” you huffed, moving to sit on the bed so that you could aggressively scroll on your phone in peace.

Andy called someone, and you patiently waited while he chatted with them.

“Okay, Y/N. We can’t leave through the front, so my guy’s gonna pick us up in the garage. We have like, half an hour,” he tossed his phone aside, then maneuvered himself to get in bed with you, setting both hands down on either side of you, and placing a soft kiss on your lips. He slowly began to inch down your body, untying the belt of your robe as he did so, when you interrupted him.

“What do you think you’re doing, Andrew?”

“We have time.” He looked up at you.

“We are not doing this. What do you think got us into this mess in the first place?” you frowned, moving one of his hands so you could slide away from him.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes! Why aren’t you taking this seriously! Do you realize that both of our careers are at stake here? I don’t want to lose my job because I’m having an affair with you. You shouldn’t want to lose a shot at office for a woman you’re not even with.”

“Come on, we’ve been doing this for almost a year, and you only have a problem with it now?”

“Yes! The public had no idea before! They’re going batshit now! And the worst part is that I’m the one taking the most heat,” you sighed, and Andy gave you a frown.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. You know I didn’t want this to happen.”

“It’s kinda too late for sorries now.”

——

You stepped out of your suite about five minutes after Andy left, suitcase in tow, blocky sunglasses on your face, and a heathered grey peacoat draped over your shoulders. Although you were stressed from the controversy you’d found yourself in, you couldn’t help but feel the buzz of excitement from having to hide from the paparazzi. At the same time, you felt quite bad for this version of yourself.

When you finally got out to the designated Cadillac, you asked for his driver to roll up the partition, like you’d done a million times before, then looked out of the tinted windows. The ride was pretty awkward, considering you were in no mood to talk to Andy, and Andy felt bad about the issues he’d imposed on you from his own carelessness. He set a cautious hand on top of yours, and though you were agitated, it did brighten your mood the slightest bit.

After what felt like forever, you arrived at his campaign building, and you were ushered into a small, soundproof space, with a large and round pine table in the center of it. Surrounding the table was a very tired looking Aaliyah, and… Tony Stark?

“How’s everyone’s weekend been?” Tony asked, breaking the ice as you and Andy settled into your seats.

“Are we really doing small talk right now?” Aaliyah deadpanned, “sorry, that was uncalled for.”

“Alright, straight to the elephant in the room then. You two were out spotted, big deal, happens all the time to politicians and their mistresses-“

“I’m not his mistress! You know this, Tony,” you huffed.

“Tony knew and not me?” Aaliyah gasped.

“Well-“ you began.

“Save it.”

“It was on a very need-to-know basis,” you muttered.

“Back to what I was saying. I suggest that we don’t address it, unless addressed.”

“I don’t know if you’re dense, or what, but that’s the exact opposite of what we need to do. We have to get on top of this story before the story is that you,” Aaliyah gestured at you, “are packing your shit at the Times.”

The door shot open, and quickly closed. A slightly flustered blonde man stumbled through. “Sorry to interrupt,” he began.

Aaliyah rolled her eyes at this notion, muttering a ‘sure you are’ to herself.

“We just finished polling numbers, and Andy, you’re up?” He projected the screen of his iPad onto a TV in the room, then passed the device over to Andy on his way to sit down.

“Thanks, Vis,” he gave him a curt nod.

“Why would our candidate allegedly hooking up with someone who hates him boost him in the polls?” Tony asked.

“Middle America loves a family man, you know that,” Vision said in a matter of faculty manner. “Andy has had a hard time connecting with that demographic because when they see him, they see an Elitist East-coaster.”

“Hooking up with a hot reporter does not make you a family man,” Aaliyah retorted.

“That brings me to my next point. If you don’t mind, I’d like to add a proposal of my own,” Vision stated, and received a shrug from the rest of the room. “Well, if we need to put a spin on this, the obvious choice is to explain that they’ve been seeing each other the whole time. Under wraps, of course. The photos the paparazzi received are not damning by any means, and look more romantic than sexual, to be quite frank. Y/N wrote those articles to throw the public off her scent, and she didn’t really believe anything she said, and Andy? He’s just a good, all American man who was tired of keeping his relationship under wraps. Everything’s to gain from this plan.”

“Well, I lose my journalistic integrity. That’s a pretty big loss to me. I may never work again,” you rubbed your forehead in a distraught manner.

“You won’t have to worry about working when you’re the First Lady. Think about it, if we can get votes from the swing states, we’ve secured enough electoral votes to have a Barber win. All over a little character rebrand.”

“Excuse me, the First Lady?” You nervously glanced between Vision and Aaliyah while you attempted to pick your jaw up from the floor.

“Well, yes. We can’t exactly get the full ‘family man’ look without Mr. Barber being a real husband.“

“Are we talking, real wedding?” Aaliyah questioned.

“Yes. You just have to be legally bound together for around four years, eight years tops. About twelve would be preferable, but I understand that not everything works out.”

“I don’t object to that,” Andy winked and nudged you a bit.

What a mess.

“Back to what I was saying, we’ll probably need about a two week PR period before we do a press briefing announcing the engagement. Give or take. During that time, we could have your publicist arrange all sorts of good photo ops for you two.”

“Either way, my career is ruined,” you sighed, and Andy set his hand on your back.

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

“You don’t have to do that. We’re not currently standing in front of 30 cameras.”

“Well, we should prepare for when we are in front of 30 cameras.”

“Is it though?” Vision interjected, bringing you and Andy back from your aside. “We can just deflect, maybe have a few of your friends make articles about how what you did wasn’t all that bad.”

“Is it not a valid criticism of me that I was sleeping around with the person who I was also slandering?”

“Is it not possible to criticize someone you care about? In fact, helping someone learn how to improve can be very romantic,” Vision shrugged.

There was a brief silence throughout the bunch while everyone pondered a counter argument.

“That right there, that kind of insight is why we call you the Vision,” Tony shook his head and proudly clapped the man on his back.

“So it’s settled then? We’re really doing this?” You glanced around at your peers while Aaliyah spoke. “Any objections, love birds?”

Andy shrugged, “I’d be happy to spend the rest of my life with her.”

You, on the other hand, weren’t so sure.

——

Barber and his Greatest Critic Break Bread Together on Friday

Y/N L/N Announces She’s Not Resigning from Senior Position, and That She’s Been Seeing Barber!

BREAKING! Barber Announces Relationship with Critic Y/N L/N

Is L/Nber the Ship that Shows us How Relationships Are More Powerful than Politics?

Our New Favorite Political Power Couple Showed Up Together at a Rally, and We Couldn’t Be More Excited.

Barber 7 Points Ahead in the Polls, Leaving Loguidice and Kline Trailing Far Behind

Was Y/N Really in the Wrong?

“L/Nber” Celebrate Valentine’s Day Together

These L/Nber House Hunting Photos Are Giving Us Life!

This was your reality for the next two weeks. The news cycle was filled with a plethora of articles about you, some criticizing you, some criticizing Andy, but most, supporting the two of you in your romantic endeavors. Unsurprisingly, the world loved a good story about two attractive people getting together.

During this period, you didn’t particularly feel like leaving, though the thought had certainly crossed your mind. You just weren’t sure that you wanted to be dealing with those terrible symptoms again in the midst of an already stressful stage of your life. At the same time, it seemed like the universe was not going to be fair with your time in this reality. You were convinced that you were here for the long haul, or at least, until Andy proposed to you.

Although it was a bit annoying, cameras around every corner, a watchful eye on everything that you or Andy even considered doing, you found yourself growing on Andy. In some ways, he was a bit more intense than Steve, whose personality had mellowed out a bit since the Snap.

This had been the first time in all of your travels where you felt like ‘Steve’ was the one pursuing you, and in all honesty, it made you feel good. Even if everything the two of you did had an aftertaste of artificiality.

You spent more and more time with him every day, staying together with him in hotels across the country, visiting local businesses with him to get the perfect photo op, and attending galas with donors. It seemed like in every candid photo of Andy, you weren’t too far behind. By the time the day of your proposal arrived, you weren’t even all that opposed to the marriage.

When the proposal finally arrived, the two of you were sat inside a rather fancy restaurant, finishing up your meal when Andy settled on one knee in front of you, “Y/N,” he began, and you felt the all too familiar tremble of your watch on your wrist.

You almost had to restrain yourself from exclaiming out loud. It’s not that you didn’t like Andy or anything, he’d genuinely grown on you. In the least cheesy way, it wasn’t him, but you. Being somewhere so unfamiliar for so long had begun to create a cumulative exhaustion that wore a bit more on you every day. Feeling homesick was an understatement.

You brought your hands up to your face, and gasped dramatically, squeezing your eyes shut to see if you could possibly produce a few tears, while mobile cameras and a few professional flashes were directed towards you. A few warm droplets slipped down your face, and for a moment you weren’t even sure how fake they were. It seemed like once they started, they couldn’t stop.

You missed Steve, your Steve, the man you’d fallen in love with. You missed your friends, teammates, and family. You missed the stability of knowing what the world held for you next.

In the midst of Andy’s proposal, in what should’ve been the happiest moment of your life, all you could focus on was your overwhelming desire to have a sense of normalcy in your life once again.

——

You woke up in a cold sweat, heart racing in your chest, and shaking your ribcage. You looked up to the ceiling of what you had grown to know was your room in the Compound, your real room, and felt your eyes well up in tears that stung you.

You sat up, and took as deep of a breath as you could manage, when you noticed Wanda sitting by your bedside.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” she said softly, coming closer to you, offering you a glass of water before sitting at the foot of your bed.

“Where’s Steve?” you asked, trying to gauge where you were.

“Honey,” she sighed softly. “I’m so sorry. He’s still missing.”

Your lip trembled as you took a sip. You really were back home.

“I know you’re hurting, but when you feel a little better, we’re going to Medbay. Banner decided that we should probably keep an eye on your vitals, but you were gone before we even had the chance to get you there.”

You gulped down the water, then set it on your bedside table, “so was that all just a dream or something? Why isn’t Steve back?” you huffed frustratedly.

“I don’t know why he isn’t back, but I don’t think you were dreaming. I was trying to watch your dreams, but I couldn’t read you, or your thoughts at all.”

“Hmm,” you mumbled, throwing your legs over the side of the bed, “let’s go.”

As you settled into the cold, and sterile medical facility you were hooked up to a plethora of monitors, and a cacophony of devices beeped as they read your physical state.

You tuned out the words being spoken around you, zoning out and looking forward to your vital signs monitor. Your mind wandered to your last few thoughts in your previous reality, the desperation to come back, to see your estranged lover again. You couldn’t help but to feel disappointed, lamenting the fact that you’d found your way home, yet felt the ever present void in your heart where your Steve used to be.

“Y/N?” a voice asked you, and you glanced in its general direction. “What happened while you were out? What did you see? Did it work?” Bruce pelted you with questions.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to talk about it yet,” you sighed softly, bringing a hand up to your neck and rubbing it. “The watch worked though, I was definitely in other universes. I just couldn’t reach him. Bring him home. I failed.”

“Do you think he’s really out there?” Bruce whispered to Wanda hoping that you might not pick up on it.

“I’m… I don’t know. I just don’t know how likely it is that we’ll manage to find him,” she responded in a hushed tone. You bit back tears as she spoke, resuming your empty gaze on the pixelated green text of your heart rate on the monitor.

“I’m sorry, guys. I have to go back,” you interrupted. “I can’t give up on Steve yet. I know he wouldn’t give up on me.”

“Y/N, you could be gone for centuries before you find him, then return back here with no time passed at all, and possibly no Steve. You don’t deserve to take on all of that pain,” Wanda set a hand on your shoulder. “Steve would’ve wanted you to move on from him. To find happiness without him.”

“I can’t do that, Wanda. Without him I don’t even know who I am,” your voice trembled as you spoke. “He’s literally been my only tether through all of this.”

“I just don’t know that this is the best thing we could be doing. Sure, you’re physically fine, but it almost seems like you’re doing worse emotionally than you were before you left,” Bruce added.

“I’m not!” you sniffled before continuing. “I’m just tired from going to all those new places.”

Bruce and Wanda didn’t seem too convinced. “Don’t you guys believe in me? When have I let you down on a mission before? I’m gonna find him, okay? I’ll find him if it’s the last fucking thing I do,” you blubbered.

Wanda’s hand slid down your shoulder, and to the watch that was currently on your wrist.

“Don’t,” you uttered, swinging your opposite hand to grab onto your own wrist. You were aware that there was absolutely no way you could overpower her in taking the watch from you, but even in your minor hysterics, you were able to think fast enough to press the round button before the watch was able to be taken off of you.

You, and your wrist shook. Wrist shaking from the watch, and promise of sending you elsewhere, and you from a mixture of sobs and adrenaline. Though not the most ideal exit, it was an exit nonetheless.

You weren’t even sure if you cared that you were on good terms with your teammates anymore.

You just needed to be with Steve again.

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #marvel fanfiction #ABITRV

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