#doc pulling all the cards she can think of. it buys them time if nothing else
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Riot Kings, pages 211 and 212
first // prev // next
#wes went 😰#he's also very much still 'sedated' so not everything is coming in clear which makes it scarier#doc pulling all the cards she can think of. it buys them time if nothing else#i wonder what greer thinks about essentially letting wes go free 😏😏#it would be a shame if there were a few days before the actual attack... oh wait#riotkings#211#212#angst#whump comic
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Do you do headcanons? If so, could I have some hcs for cherry or evie? Thanks! /pos
I do! they're my preferred form of writing haha they're easy for me
I'll do both just generally, and if you meant relationship wise, i can do another set for you :D tysm for sending a request! <3
cherry:
she dries/presses flowers, and whenever she sends a letter, birthday card, thank you note, etc, she sends one along with it
after pony mentions the sunset to her, she watches it a lot more intently, and actually has made herself a little spot on the roof of her house with blankets and snacks to watch it every night
i feel like she'd be a casual artist, you know? she probably paints every once in a while
she'd be super into scrunchies, not even just using them in her hair, but wearing them around her wrist and matching them with her outfits
loves seeing lipstick stains, whether she left them or not, and will purposefully apply way too much lipstick/gloss/product so that when she sips a drink it's around the rim
probably wears anklets, nice ones though, gold chains with a little heart pendant or something
the type of person to buy a pen and wear down the ink before buying a new one, so she's only got one pencil/pen for months at a time, not a bunch that she uses all at once
i'd like to think that she actually does see pony outside of school, nothing more than a friendship, just watching the sunset together or going to see a movie
she keeps post-it notes that her friends pass to her in classes, she never throws them away
she probably keeps them in the pockets of her jackets or something, or the skirt that she was wearing at the time
she's got a memory jar, where she puts photo strips, movie tickets, some pressed flowers, little seashells that she's found, and some of the aforementioned notes
evie:
honestly seems like they use she/they to me, hope it doesn't throw you off that that's what I'll be using :)
all we see of her is from steve so i'll mention that but i wanna get into their quirks and habits too
probably brings steve (and soda) lunch on fridays
knows that steve's really worried about relationship stabilities, because he thinks soda's a god with relationships, and sandy cheated on him, so he's really worried about himself and evie
she takes this into account, and does whatever she can to reassure him that they love him and only him
they're the type of person to find a cool rock on the ground and pick it up and show people and then take it home
she probably has a little rock garden somewhere in her room
crocs advocate, especially the neon colored ones
has a septum piercing, and steve teases them about it constantly, poking it, pulling (lightly) on it, etc
dyes her hair so often that honestly everyone's surprised it's not falling off
doc martens, all day every day
seems like the type of person to paint denim jackets and wear them but ! also ! paints steve's too ! he doesn't yell at her or anything, he's honestly really really sweet with her, but he freaks out when they paint all of his vests
one of the only people that is brave enough to stand up/mouth off to dallas and one of the only people that he lets stand up/mouth off to him
i hope these were good, thank you so much for requesting! it means a lot to me that you'd give me a chance like this to get myself out there :D
#cherry valance#cherry valance imagine#cherry valance oneshot#cherry valance preference#cherry valance scenario#cherry valance headcanon#cherry valance headcanons#cherry valance hcs#evie#the outsiders evie#steve x evie#steve randle x evie#stop it i hate that we don't have evie's last name#the outsiders#the outsiders imagine#the outsiders headcanons#the outsiders hcs#the outsiders fanfiction#the outsiders preferences
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ON THE EDGE ~ Pt. 2
Characters: Gavin Reed x fem!Reader; Connor; Hank Anderson;
Warnings: cursing
Words: 2.643
Two days later, yn was back in the DPD. After a quick talk with Gavin and greeting Hank and Connor on her way, she sat in the glass office of Fowler. She was always good with her Captain. There was barely a problem between them. And yet, she was nervous in the way Captain Fowler skimmed through her file. His serious expression made it impossible for her to read him. She could feel Gavin's eyes burning on her back. Beside herself, he was the next in the row of the most nervous people.
"It's good to have you back, yn.", Fowler said and gained her attention back.
"Thanks, Sir. I'm also happy to be back. I've missed this beautiful hellhole."
"I have all the results and I have to admit, everything looks pretty perfect. The test results of your shooting training are amazing and the doc report gives you a go. Then, there's nothing else for me to do than to give you your weapon and badge back. Welcome home.", Fowler said proudly and handed her the mentioned things.
"Thank you, Sir.", yn stood up and took her gun, she had missed the feeling of the typical weight, and the badge. The shiny golden badge was her pride and joy. A sign of her hard work.
As yn took the badge, Fowler held the other side in his hand and waited for yn to look at him, "But, keep it slow. Get to know the new cases. There are some. And look after yourself."
"Of course, Sir.", yn promised and then, she took the badge into her hand. Finally, she was back in the game. Yn left the office and stepped into the middle of the room to raise her badge in the air like a trophy. Everyone was clapping and cheering with applause.
**
Like Captain Fowler had advised, yn took it slow. She returned to her desk opposite Gavin’s. Her desk. The small island in the middle of the DPD where she had her place among all the tough guys. The day after she got her badge back, she sat at her desk, studying some file about a Red Ice case as someone placed something in front of her. It was a small flower pot with a smiling face on it. A small green plant grew out of it.
Yn smiled broadly as she saw this small gift and looked up to see Connor standing next to her desk with a soft smile, “What’s that?”, she asked.
“I saw it this morning on my way to work and thought about you. The smile matches yours. It’s a small welcome back gift.”, Connor explained proudly.
“Oh, thank you. That’s so cute of you! I really like that. This desk missed something green and joyful.”, yn said and took the small flower pot carefully in her hands to take a closer look. Proudly, she raised the plant up to show it to Gavin, “Look, Gavin, what I’ve just got! Isn’t that cute?”
Gavin looked at her sparkling eyes and the broad smile but all he could do was to shoot her a small acknowledging nod, “Yeah, wonderful. I’ll get some coffee.”, he said and stood up.
Yn looked surprised at Gavin who just walked away with a sullen expression. She frowned, wondering at what it was that seemed to have bugged him this time. But then, she just shrugged her shoulders and turned back to Connor who was happy to see her smiling about his gift.
On his way to the kitchen, Gavin threw the greeting card into the next trash bin. Gavin had brought it the day before as he thought it would be a nice idea to give her something for her return but unfortunately, he had no better idea than this card. Since he had entered the DPD, he had searched for the right moment to give her the card. He even had written something in it, it was a quote from one of her most favourite movies. And then, the android had thwarted his plans. There was no way his silly card could keep up with the small plant Connor had given her.
The longer the coffee needed to be done, the more anger rose inside of him. Gavin clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. He had been cool with the android because he had to but this move brought his anger against Connor back. As the coffee was done, Gavin took the cup, turned around and walked through the kitchen. On his way, a young officer bumped into him and let his files fall because of the impact.
“Watch it, stupid prick!”, Gavin grunted angrily.
“S-sorry, Detective.”, the officer said, totally scared and gathered the papers from the ground with shaking hands. Gavin glared at him angrily before he left the kitchen.
“Was that really necessary? You frightened him to death.”, yn asked, crossed her arms and watched her partner sitting down.
“Yes! Now, he knows where his place is!”, Gavin grunted angrily.
Yn looked at him with raised brows. Most of the time, such an outburst was triggered by other things than just a newby who ran into him, “Wow, you’re in a bad mood. What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. Everything’s fucking wonderful! If my mood is bothering you then, why don’t you go somewhere else? No, wait. I'll go. I need some air anyway!”, Gavin said with a fiery glance, stood up, grabbed his jacket and left the DPD without another word.
Shocked and slightly taken aback, yn looked after Gavin.
*
Yn studied some of Gavin’s open files to get back on track with the work. There was one case of prostitution but it was nothing too severe. It was just a girl who tried to come buy in these tough times with all the unemployment. She would be still there later. There was one file that caught yn’s attention. It was a statement from a junky who had snitched on his dealer to get off the hook. As yn read the statement, the name of the dealer: Joseph ‘the Joker’ was so stupid and silly that it burnt itself into her mind.
But the name rang something in the back of her head. Yn searched on her desk, plastered with different files, to find the one case file she had read half an hour before. As she skimmed through the papers, she found the same name, Joseph ‘the Joker’, mentioned again. It was an older statement but yn was sure that these cases had a connection.
“Gavin, where the hell are you?”, yn cursed annoyed. For hours, her partner was MIA. She had tried to call him several times but he never answered. All the messages she sent stayed unanswered. But yn needed someone to talk about the discovery she had made and to get a second thought about it. She let her eyes roam through the office randomly until her eyes landed on the other side of the room. She spotted one very helpful person for such a case.
“Hank, can you look at something?”
“Of course. What is it?”, Hank asked interested. Connor also stood up from his seat and joined them.
Yn sat on top of the free desk with the files in her hand. She gnawed on her lower lip. Somehow, it felt like betrayal that she was discussing this with Hank and Connor instead of Gavin but as she looked back, his desk was still abandoned, “I have three different files. A bunch of different statements. But in all statements, the same name gets mentioned. It’s a Red Ice dealer. I guess it’s just a small-time villain but… something tells me there might be more. Could you check that?”
Hank looked behind her at the abandoned desk and was annoyed that Gavin went away and let yn alone where she was just back after the long enforced break, “Sure, kiddo. Let me see what you have.”
Thirty minutes later, Hank looked up from the files, “You know what, you’re right. This Joseph is some dealer but his district seems to be very small. And I don't think he's the type of guy who's able to 'play' boss. He gets his stuff from someone. Wait a moment, I might have a statement about this guy, too."
"Does Gavin know about the connection?", Connor asked but as yn was about to answer, a loud voice caught all their attention. It was the hooker yn had seen in one of the other case files. Chris walked beside her to bring the woman in chains into a cell.
Yn jumped from Hank's desk as she saw Gavin walking right behind the couple, aiming for his desk. First, yn was mad, he had gone far too long without a word, then she saw his face and hurried over to him, "What the hell happened to you?", she asked, concerned and surprised as she saw the bloody lip and the red color on his cheek, maybe from a slap. Yn guided his chin more into the light to have a better look at his face.
Gavin moved his head out of her grip, "It's nothing. This hooker was a bit … rough as I tried to arrest her."
"You bastard! You tricked me! First, all flirty and then- bang! Some silver!", the prostitute yelled. Chris struggled to keep hold of her as she was about to jump at Gavin.
"Chris, lock her up for fuck saken! And throw the key away!", Gavin yelled and finally, Chris moved her through the DPD. Gavin slumped down on his chair, taking a file to note something.
Yn stood next to his desk with crossed arms, tapping with one foot, "So, wanna talk about this?"
"About what? That I do my job?", Gavin asked and looked up. He saw her glance and felt guilty but then, his eyes landed on Connor and the former anger was back.
"We're partners! You could have answered a call or at least, one fucking message-"
Gavin shot up and stared down at yn who didn't seem to be impressed at all. That was something he liked on her the most, that she never backed off of him, "Sorry, mom! I was busy, okay? Now, excuse me, I have some paperwork to do."
Once again, yn was surprised about this kind of outburst. She stared after him. A sad feeling spreaded through her. During her recovery, all she wanted was to go back to Gavin. To work with him. Now, as she was back, he seemed to be on the edge all the time. She wasn’t sure if it was her fault, that it was still because of the shooting or … if there was something else that Gavin bothered.
"Yn?", a soft, smooth voice pulled her out of her thoughts. Connor stood next to her and offered her a bunch of case files, "Your files. Hank added his one. Is everything alright?", he asked as he saw her glance.
"Yeah, yeah, everything's fucking wonderful. Thanks for the files...and for the help.", yn said and went back to her own desk.
Gavin left the cell area and watched the interaction between yn and Connor. Ice cold anger and fiery rage shot through his veins again. But he knew, he was his own worst enemy. Like always.
As Gavin saw yn sitting at her desk, studying some files, he felt like shit for treating her like this. Of all the people, yn was the last one who deserved his temper tantrums just because he couldn't be honest about his...
He had two options: one, he could tell her the truth or two, he would pull himself together. At the moment, option two was the only thing Gavin had. So, he had to make up for his latest behavior as best as he could.
Yn studied the file Hank had given her. She read the second statement from a guy who said 'Joseph the Joker is ticking drugs in Liberty park' and so on. Obviously, the junky had been on drugs as he had made his statement because yn had to read the same paragraph for the third time to understand what the guy wanted to say. She just started the fourth try as a cup of coffee appeared slowly in her field of view. A well known, tanned hand shoved the cup in front of her.
Without a word, Gavin walked to his own desk to sit down opposite of her. He had seen her observing glance and the one raised brow but she stayed silent. He knew her well enough to know that she tried to ignore him as a punishment. So, he did something he barely does, "I'm sorry for yelling at you. And I'm sorry for not answering the calls and messages. And for...leaving you alone.", Gavin said softly.
Slowly, and somehow disbelieving, yn raised her head to look at her partner. She blinked several times. A soft, lopsided smirk played on Gavin's lips and his green eyes, rimmed by dark shadows, were looking hopefully at her. Yn leant back in her chair and crossed her arms, "Alright, who are you and where's my partner?"
"I'm serious!", Gavin said but still with a smile.
"Me too! Gavin Reed never apologizes. What did he say once? Oh, yeah: "Apologies are for chickens…". And I have seen enough movies to know what is going on. So, tell me, alien from outer space, where's my partner?"
"Okay, I get it. You're mad.", he said and leant back.
"Yes, I'm mad. Just like that, you storm out of here without a word to do- what? Arresting this hooker? I read her file. There's nothing important in her case. Is it because of me? Did I do something wrong? Because, somehow I get the feeling that all this bad-vibe-thing from you is related to me."
Gavin felt how all the color drained slowly from his face. He feared she would notice something but not that fast, "No! No, it was not because of you. Look, this...girl was getting on my nerves, okay? Yes, the case is simple and I guess we let her go anyway but…", Gavin stopped and waited. He didn't need to wait long to get the reaction he hoped for. The sign that she was distracted with his lame excuse.
"But, what?", yn asked impatiently.
"During the last weeks, I tried to arrest her three or four times and each time, she escaped-"
"Oh, bloody hell! It's an ego thing? Seriously?", yn asked and started to laugh.
Gavin raised his shoulders as an apology. Glad that his trick had worked out.
"You will never change, I guess.", yn said, still grinning as she looked down at the file again, "Thanks for the coffee, idiot."
"Always, shorty.", Gavin answered and grinned as he saw her face.
"Don't call me that!", yn said serious.
"Stop calling me 'idiot', then.", Gavin fired back.
"Nope. It suits you perfectly."
"Then, you have your answer.", Gavin grinned. They touched their cups with each other to seal this mini fight as over.
"How's she doing that?", Connor asked as he watched yn and Gavin talking about something before they touched their cups in a silly way. In one moment they were fighting and in the other they seemed to be fine again.
"Who is doing what?", Hank asked, slightly confused, what Connor was talking about.
"Yn and how she's acting with Reed. How long are they partners?"
"Two years, maybe a bit longer. But don't get tricked. They weren't always like this.", Hank said but he raised his hands as he already saw the next question in the android's face, "I will tell you the stories one day but not now. Come on, we have work to do."
#detroit connor#gavin reed x reader#gavin x reader#gavin reed#dbh gavin#hank anderson#connor dbh#dbh#detroit become human#detroit become human aesthetic
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Out of My League [Part 4]
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Single mom!Reader
Word count: ~3.2k
Summary: Why on Earth does everyone think you and Spencer are dating? That’s just ridiculous! Right?
Warning(s): the pining is strong with this one, alcohol consumption, i think there were like one or two swear words?? pretty tame
Author’s Note: OH MY GOD WE’RE BACK AGAIN!!!!! yeah it’s been WAyy too long I’m so sorry guys. ON THE BRIGHT SIDE!!! I’m almost done with the next part so the wait won’t be NEARLY as bad this time around. Ok love yall hope you like it!!!
[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]
The play was a lovely way to spend your evening. You could hear Spencer beside you muttering the words along with the actors. The monologues were beautiful coming from the talent on stage, but it was nothing compared to your best friend’s whispers when he thought you couldn’t hear him. You looked straight ahead to the stage, fearing that he’d stop if you indicated that you were listening, but you still felt his eyes on you as he gently uttered, “I’ll follow thee and make a heaven of hell, to die upon the hand I love so well.”
Hearing the words you had read and swooned over countless times before coming from Spencer’s soft voice made a shiver run down your spine.
Spencer Reid did not just give you chills, that did not just happen, you told yourself.
The chill that ran across your body contrasted nicely with heat in your face when you felt his gaze roll over your features. You didn’t always like the feeling when someone’s eyes were on you, but something about it being Spencer’s eyes felt… right. You weren’t uncomfortable, quite the opposite, actually. You found yourself being overjoyed in your seat, but you couldn’t tell yourself why.
Or at least you refused to.
When the show ended, Spencer led you out the door you entered from, and you left the library with a dopey smile on your face as you stepped into the chilly autumn night. The sun had gone down during the play and the streetlamps glowed white against the black sky.
“You hungry?” Spencer asked.
“Starving.”
“It’s a little late for dinner, you think we’ll find a place?”
“It’s only eight o’clock, there’s gotta be somewhere.”
“A McDonald’s maybe?”
You laughed harder than you normally would, but his smile when he made his joke pulled an airy giggle from your lungs that you had no control over.
You wandered for blocks, finding restaurants that were still busy with long waits. A cute ice cream shop caught both your eyes from across the street and you and Spencer thought the same exact thing.
Some things really didn’t change since you were kids.
“You thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Of course I am, Y/N, why are we still on this side of the street?”
You crossed the road together, way too excited for grown adults to be about having ice cream for dinner. There was a line, but it was only a few people long, so you decided to wait for this more than worth it opportunity. As you approached the store, a young family was leaving. The daughter, a young girl in a pink sweater, was so focused on her cake batter flavored cone, she didn’t realize she dropped her stuffed rabbit. Spencer nearly stepped on it, but he picked it up and called after the family. They didn’t hear him, so he went after them and tapped the father on the shoulder.
“Hi, sorry, I think she dropped this.”
“Oh my goodness, Lucy, you dropped your bunny!” The mother shrieked.
“Thank you so much, really,” said Lucy’s dad, “Say thank you, sweetheart.”
“Thank you, sweetheart!” Lucy took the toy from Spencer and smiled.
About ten feet behind the scene, you were losing it. Spencer turned around after the family left and made a face while you laughed your ass off.
“That was the cutest thing I have ever seen!” You giggled as he held the door open for you, “Thanks, sweetheart.”
Spencer cracked a smile and bit his lips, gaze dropping to the floor as he blushed.
Okay, maybe that was the cutest thing you had ever seen.
“I miss when Jamie was that little. He was so cute!”
“He’s still a cute kid!” The line moves forward, you’re next up.
“Well, yeah, of course, he is! But now he knows what words mean and that’s not as funny.”
“Children learn through imitation, so it makes sense he copied things you did and said because you're his mom, he looks up to you.”
“He looks up to you, too, you know.” The family in front of you got their ice cream and left, leaving you to order, “Can I get a sugar cone of cookies and cream?” The girl behind the counter nodded and scooped your ice cream. She then turned to a catatonic Spencer, who was staring at you, cheeks flushed and lips parted. He snapped out of it and ordered a cup of rocky road with extra marshmallow fluff on top.
“What are you doing?” Spencer asked as you pulled out your credit card.
“Paying for our ice cream, what does it look like?”
“No, I’ll pay—” He reached for his pocket, but was too slow.
“Oops, too late,” you said, swiping your card and smirking. The girl behind the counter smiled and waved to you as you left.
“Did you mean that? Jamie looks up to me?”
You turned to look at Spencer, whose eyes were full of stars as he grinned back at you, “Yeah! Of course, he does!”
“Really?”
“Oh, don’t be so surprised, Spencer, you’re like his real-life superhero. You saved his life, genius, he wants to be just like you.”
“He wants to be a profiler?”
“Not necessarily. He thinks you’re a secret agent. Like a spy.”
Spencer chuckled, “And how do you feel about that?”
“Oh, it’s terrifying, I hate it.”
“Yep,” Spencer spooned some ice cream into his mouth, “That’s what I thought.”
“I mean, Jesus, Spence, I get retroactive heart attacks from all the shit you tell me about your cases, I don’t know if I want my kid getting into that. I’d worry even more than I already do.”
“You worry about me?”
“You can’t be serious.”
“What?”
“You’re my best friend, genius! Of course, I worry about you!”
You finished your ice creams on the metro and walked home in comfortable silence. As you turned the corner onto your block, you grinned up at Spencer.
“Thanks for playing tour guide today. I had fun. Haven’t gone out with friends since I moved here.”
“Why not?”
“Don’t have any friends here to go out with.”
His eyebrows jumped as he sputtered out a sentence, “Oh. W-well why don’t you come out with the team and me sometime?”
“No, they’re your friends I wouldn’t wanna intrude—”
“You wouldn't be intruding, you're my friend too.”
“Spence—”
“One of my teammates is having a dinner party tomorrow night. He’s a great cook and would love to meet you.”
You dug around your bag for your keys, “I don’t know anyone else on the team!”
“You know JJ! And Derek, too. He’s been asking about you.” Spencer’s eyes dropped to his shoes again as your welcome mat became way more interesting than your face.
“Really?” He pursed his lips and nodded. You thought it over for a moment and decided, “Fine. Text me a time and address.”
His eyes snapped back to yours, “No, I-I’ll pick you up.”
“Woah woah woah, you’re gonna drive me around?” You laughed in disbelief, “Sorry, Doc, I know our whole dynamic has changed a bit ‘cuz we’re both grown-ups now, but I’m not sure either of us is quite ready for that.”
His smile finally flashed back across his face, “Come on, I owe you.”
“For what?”
“You bought the ice cream!” His voice was high pitched.
You matched his tone, “You took me to the Shakespeare library!”
“You took me to McDonald’s 106 times in high school! I’m sure the amount of money you spent on my food could buy the whole gift shop!”
Your jaw fell open, “You counted?”
“I can’t help it!”
You rolled your eyes, failing to fight back a grin, “Goodnight, genius.”
He bit his lips and smiled, “Goodnight, Y/N.”
You jam the key in your door and push it open, closing it with your body as you sigh, leaning your head back against it.
“That good, huh?” Said a voice from the living room, causing you to jump.
“Jesus, mom, what are you still doing up?” You sigh, clutching your chest.
“Well, I put Jamie to bed, I figured I’d wait up for you so I can hear about your date!”
“Wh- mom, what are you talking about?”
“With Spencer! How was your date?”
“That wasn’t a date!”
“Really? So you guys just walked around for hours in silence doing nothing?”
“We didn’t just walk around!”
“So what’d you guys do?” She asked, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Oh my god, mom.”
“You’re not denying anything!”
“Mom!”
“You can tell me, it’s just us girls.”
“He took me to the Shakespeare Library! We got ice cream! That’s it! Nothing happened!”
“Shakespeare Library? Ice cream?” her eyebrows darted up so far it was almost like a cartoon character, “Toots, that’s not nothing!”
“It’s nothing. We just saw a play-”
“What play?”
“Midsummer Night’s Dream.”
Your mother closed her book and tossed it next to her on the couch. “Oh! You mean your favorite! Silly me for thinking this was a romantic outing!”
“It wasn’t!”
“Who paid for the ice cream?”
“I did.”
“Did he offer?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t let him.”
Your mother sighed, “You’re telling me it wasn’t a date, but all I’m hearing is that Spencer thought it was.”
“Then why didn’t he make a move?”
“So many reasons! He’s shy! He’s a gentleman! Maybe he thought you weren’t into him.”
“I’m not.”
“Then why are you so upset?”
Is everyone a profiler now? God!
“Mom, it’s getting late, I walked the length of the city today, I’m going to bed. You can stay over if you don’t wanna drive, but I’m getting some sleep.”
“Right, you need to be rested for tomorrow night. Got a dinner party to go to!”
“Were you listening?”
“The window was open just a crack, I may have heard some of the conversation.”
“Jesus…”
“What? You’re meeting his friends already, this is big.”
You groaned, dragging your feet up the stairs to your bedroom, changing out of your clothes, and hopping in the shower before cozying up for bed. Whether or not you wanted to admit your mom was right, you knew she was. And that terrified you.
(Spencer’s POV)
I rang the doorbell of her house at exactly 6:30, just like I said I would. Seconds later, the door swung open and revealed her smiling face shimmering with her makeup. I took in her outfit, a cute floral dress reaching the tops of her knees. I tried to make sure my eyes didn’t linger on the neckline for too long when I noticed a thin silver chain resting on her collarbone. A small heart-shaped pendant dangled from it.
“Wow.” Was all I could manage, “You look—”
“Totally overdressed, right? Cuz I can dress this down a bit, I just need to change the shoes and throw on a jacket. You know what? I have another dress upstairs I’ll just cha—”
“No, Y/N, you look…” Beautiful, enchanting, stunning, like the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen, I thought about saying all of that, but instead, I just said, “Great.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” I tried to say it as sincerely as possible, “Are you ready to go?”
“Yep!” She reached around the door to take a denim jacket from a hook on the wall, throwing it over her shoulders, “Lemme just get my purse—” she glanced around the room and cut herself off with a groan.
“What?”
“I left my bag in my room. Here, come inside, it’s chilly out.” She rushed down the hall to hurry up the stairs to what I’d assume was her bedroom. I stepped across the threshold and into the warm home. There was a faint glow of light from the kitchen, where a child’s laugh bubbled from the room. I followed the sound and found Jamie and Mrs. L/N sitting at the table doing a puzzle.
“Oh, hi, Spencer!” She called.
“Doctor Spencer!” Jamie jumped up from his seat and ran to me, wrapping his arms around my legs.
“Hey, little man!” I ruffled his hair and flashed a grin to Y/N’s mom.
I heard the tapping of shoes descending the stairs behind me, “Okay, got everything, you ready?”
I quickly turned around at the sound of Y/N’s voice and saw her smiling at Jamie beside me.
“Goodnight, Jamie-baby, I’ll see you in the morning, okay? Have fun with grandma,” she cooed as she pressed a kiss to his forehead.
“Goodnight!”
“Bye, buddy!”
“Bye, Doc!”
“Have fun you two, be safe!” Y/N’s mom grinned as she waved us away.
“Oh my god, mom, stop.”
“Okay! Goodnight, my loves!”
“Goodnight!”
Y/N marched out the door and followed the path down to the street, where my car was parked.
“Last chance, Doc, want me to drive instead?”
I passed her to open the passenger side door for her, “Not a chance, I promised.”
“What a gentleman! Now let’s see if we make it there in one piece first.”
The laugh I let out was half-mockery, half-nerves, as I was not the best driver. I had a Ph.D. in engineering and understood more about physics than most people, but that doesn’t mean I knew how to focus well enough to apply that knowledge. When it is literally impossible for me to forget that I have a 1 in 96 chance of dying in a car accident, my hypervigilance does more harm than good.
“So who am I meeting? Who’s on your team?”
My anxieties were somewhat quelled by the sound of her voice, allowing me to pull my thoughts away from the possibility of becoming one of the 20% of fatal car crashes that occur in intersections.
“Well, you already know JJ and Garcia. Hotch, my boss—”
“Tall, dark, handsome? Never smiles?”
I chuckled, “That’s the guy.”
“He seems fun at parties.”
“He’s actually not that bad. Just a bit too serious sometimes.”
“Okay, and who haven’t I met?”
“The host, David Rossi, Emily, you’ll love them.”
“Is Derek coming?”
IQ of 187 and I still don’t think anyone could have explained to me why that upset me as much as it did. It’s not like Y/N was my girlfriend or anything, she was allowed to want Derek, most girls did, so there was no reason for me to be jealous. She wasn’t mine to lose.
“Yeah. He’ll be there.”
We pulled up to Rossi’s mansion a few minutes later, after riding in semi-awkward silence. She waited for me next to her side of the car, not wanting to walk up to the door by herself. I reached out to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder as I drew closer. She gave me a tight-lipped smile before dropping her eyes to the ground between us.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m nervous, what if they don’t like me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, what’s not to love?” I didn’t even realize how much I meant those words at the time, so I doubt she understood how serious I was, but her smile softened and her shoulders relaxed slightly under my touch. I led her up to the front porch and rang the doorbell. Shortly after, Garcia opened the door and beamed at the two of us.
“You’re here! Oh my goodness, so nice to see you again!” She pulled Y/N into a hug that she very quickly accepted.
“Hi, Penelope, good to see you too.” She pulled away and grinned at me, the worry mostly drained from her eyes now.
“Come here, boy genius, you get one too!” She wrapped her arms around my waist and my face found its place in her blonde curls. We all went inside and saw the whole team sitting around a coffee table with glasses of wine in their hands. JJ put her glass on the table and got up from her seat on the cushy leather couch to hug Y/N.
“You’re not one of mine, are you?” Rossi sipped his drink and eyed Y/N.
“Um, this is Y/N, my uh, my friend.” I stammered.
“Ah! You’re the doctor’s little lady friend I’ve heard so much about!” Rossi put his scotch down on the table and crossed the room to kiss her on both cheeks, “Lovely to meet you, bella, I’m—”
“David Rossi. Yes, Spencer’s told me about you. Nice to meet you,” she grinned, shaking his hand.
“Ah,” he scoffed, “call me Dave.”
“What? No fair!” Emily piped up, taking a big sip of wine, “You just met her and she gets ‘Dave’ privileges? I’ve worked with you for months!”
“Emily, look me in the eyes and try to call me Dave.” She looked at him and opened her mouth like she was about to say something, but she just took another sip while JJ and Morgan laughed at her.
Hotch flashed a rare smile to Y/N, “Good to see you again.”
“Yes! Glad it’s under better circumstances, Agent Hotchner.”
“Me too. And please,” he extended a hand to her, “call me Aaron.”
This time it was Morgan who spoke up, “No way! Only Rossi calls you by your first name!”
“And me,” Emily mumbled.
“And now Y/N, too.”
“I’m honored, Aaron.”
Looking at her face now all remaining anxiety had just about vanished. I told her she had nothing to worry about, and now she was finally listening to me. Rossi called us all to the kitchen where he told us to grab a plate so he could serve us before we sat down at the table. He gave us each a plate of his famous spaghetti carbonara before taking his seat at the head of the table. The team all chatted about their lives, as we ate. Hotch showed Y/N pictures of Jack on his phone, Emily probed JJ about Will, Morgan, and Rossi poked fun at me for bringing Y/N, but I just rolled my eyes and tried to ignore them. Plates were cleaned, stories were told, and wine bottles were emptied. Mostly by Emily and Y/N.
JJ was the one to try to cut them off, “Don’t you have to drive this one home?” She gestured to me.
She put her hands up defensively, “He picked me up.”
“Reid, you hate driving!” Garcia pointed out, prompting Morgan to spare a knowing glance to Rossi.
“You do?”
“I don’t hate it, I just prefer not to.” I was a profiler, but that didn’t mean I was a good liar.
“Spence, I offered to drive you.”
I shrugged, “I didn’t mind.”
Her eyes lingered on me for another moment before taking another sip of wine and resuming her conversation with Emily. I knew they’d get along. Towards the end of the night, Rossi proposed a toast.
“To familia.”
Y/N smiled, staying quiet.
“Oh, come on now, you too, bella.” He raised his glass to her and clinked the crystal, “You’re stuck with us now, get over it.”
“I’m not complaining, Dave.” Her words were to Rossi, but she never stopped looking at me. Probably just had a bit too much to drink.
Right?
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masterpost ☀️ main masterlist ☀️ taglist
previously on...
This chapter is very dialogue heavy. Stephen Strange being a little bit of a dick and Tony being a sweetheart. No warnings here, just plot and worldbuilding. I think Tony is his own warning to be honest... Do we want fun facts before each chapter like before or nah?

Sorcerer Strange stared at me with the heat of a plasma beam after I finished stuttering throughout my story, one accurate eyebrow raised and sharp cheekbones painting him displeased and dangerous in the yellow light of the store lamps. The whole experience shook me more than I would have liked to admit to myself and his mute reaction wasn't helping matters at all.
"Hmph," he finally cleared his throat, taking a step back and casting a thoughtful look over the shelves in the store. "You did all you could. Perhaps, we owe you gratitude," his tone was far kinder than his face. "How long have you been doing... This?" He vaguely gestured with a gloved hand.
"Long enough," I replied without thinking. My stress levels urgently rose above acceptable and the feelings needed to be let out now; Wong's dismissive attitude and Strange's half-assed apology for the attitude was still fresh in my mind.
The sorcerer sighed, briefly touching the bridge of his nose. "I won't pretend to understand the reason for your hostility but I'd like to remind you we're on the same side here," his steely blue eyes attempted to peer into my soul.
"There are no sides here," whatever he was selling, I wasn't buying it. "There are just people who get hurt, either because of unstable maniacs with superpowers or aliens who think Earth is an all-you-can-kill buffet," I stuck my dirty, bloody hands in my pockets. "You do your part in mitigating the damage, I do mine. That's all there is."
"And you would be making my job expotentionally harder if you get in the way and slow down professionals, even if you mean well," the man's temper had, evidently, won over and he immediately got on the defensive, crossing his arms and trying to glare me down.
Odette's words rang true, starting a storm of hollow anger in the pit of my skull. "Now listen here, you privileged prick," the damn burst at the seams as I squared up to give him a piece of my mind. "You and your Hogwarts rejects and the merry band of billionaires may have the opportunity to 24/7 healthcare and near-instant compensation for any damages the villain of the week decides to bestow upon your shallow little heads," I advanced half a step towards Strange, hands bailed into tight fists, internally rejoicing at the way he leaned back. My blood sang with adrenaline as I breathed the exhilaration.
"But how many people do you overlook? How many children never make it because your super secret organisation gives their parents an ultimatum just because they are different? This is a safe space for the ones you pretend not to see until it's convenient and it will stay that way, over my fucking dead body, if need be," I stared at the tall man, almost physically feeling his brain halt and pause with the cartoony sound of screeching tires. Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't this.
A pregnant pause hung in the air, both of us waiting for the other to explode.
"Don't you think I am aware," Strange finally seethed through gritted teeth, alarming golden sparks shining in his eyes. "The Avengers are not under the rule of SHIELD and I, personally, have no affiliation with either. I do not condone their barbaric methods," the man was struggling to form his sentences properly but even despite that, I understood his ideas.
I desperately wanted to believe his words to be true, I really did, but... "Then do your fucking job and let me do mine. I do not go out there and intervene, I merely clean up the mess you all leave. Something that nobody wants to do do, so unless you've got any takers, I'll keep helping those you deem unfit," in a fit of muted rage, I flew my arm to point at the abandoned cars and destroyed concrete outside of the window, the empty street and the clouds of dust rising into the moody skies.
The entrance door flew open suddenly, with a force strong enough to bang the heavy, old handle against something outside, letting in the stuffy air inside the bodega. Strange jumped at the sound of the screaming hinges, my own heart skipping a beat from the startling interruption.
Visibly composing himself, the man pierced me with a final stare before starting a dangerously quiet, "Very well, goodbye," and hightailing it out of Odette's before disappearing in a golden circle just outside the front porch.
I let my shoulders sag for a brief moment of respite, feeling the tension bleed out of me and penetrate every nook and cranny in the room. My protection charms were mostly destroyed, silver dull, glass and amber crackled. Tossing them into the appropriate recycling bin, I set to clean up the shop, flying through the motions in record time and wandering home through the damaged streets on autopilot.
My anger had cost me more than a fortune in my past but no matter how much I sought to reason with myself, I couldn't bring it to justify Strange's attitude towards my choices. The more I thought about it, the less rational my guesses became; I forced myself to stop thinking about it when my brain had unhelpfully supplied an absurd notion of him being jealous of my lifestyle: he knew next to nothing of my skills and his opinion was based solely on seeing me work the store front and one cleansing spell I'd performed on Bucky. There was simply no rational explanation for his behaviour.
NYC life wasn't affected by the battle in the slightest, it seemed; a day and a half later, I was back at Jeremy's, serving overpriced hot beverages to the rich and the busy. I'd slept on the Bucky and Strange situation, got a handle on my feelings and decided to simply put it away. There were other, more pressing things to worry about than a couple of men.
I didn't expect the flood of anxiety that turned my hands to lead upon seeing Tony Stark's signature suit-and-sunglasses wearing ass waltz into the café. He flashed me his usual easy grin but didn't remove his glasses, eyes eerily blank behind them, as he motioned for his usual order before leaning on the countertop with the entirety of his upper body. "So, Starshine, what is it exactly that you do?" Came the question I was dreading. "Are you, like, a witch? The broomstick and cauldron kind?"
"Mr. Stark, I am serving you coffee and a muffin as we speak," I replied curtly, raising an eyebrow.
"Drop the act, honeybuns. I thought we were friends," if I squinted, I could see that he was genuinely hurt by my lack of desire to communicate. Or, perhaps, he simply was unused to not satisfying his curiosities immediately.
Either way, I stood no chance against Stark patented puppy eyes. "I clock out at two," a sigh of epic magnitude left my mouth against my will. "You can interrogate me then. Until that, it's lattes and cheesecakes only."
Tony narrowed his eyes, smile warming up by a smidgen. "Interrogate you? Never," he pocketed the napkin with Dr. Banner's scribbles the doc had forgotten last time. "I'm merely curious." Another flash of his teeth and he was gone, taking what little peace I had left along with him.
The hands on the clock made their hurried rounds over and over. My chest had grown it's own set of ticking, grinding, mismatched gears as the endless possibilities coursed a steady stream through my head. Tony Stark was a wild card, his struggles with authority a widely known fact, as frequent as his strange habits in just about anything. And while I doubted I would get ambushed and locked up, I had no qualms of him berating me for telling off his boyfriend. He seemed like the possessive, overprotective type, anyways.
As soon as I exited the café, surrounded by the smells of flour and coffee grounds, my eyes immediately landed on the shiny, brand new Audi illegally parked right in front of the establishment, it's owner leisurely leaning against the hood with a face of contented boredom as passerby pedestrians shamelessly ogled him and his ride. His face lit up as he noticed me, immediately rushing to hold the passenger side door open for my comfort. "M'lady," the dorky remark didn't fail to summon a smile to my face even if it was a weak shadow of my usual camaraderie.
"Mr. Stark," I greeted him as soon as he peeled off the crowded sidewalk.
The lack of joy on my face didn't go unnoticed by him and every now and then, he snuck a glance at my face. "Relax, Starshine, I won't bite."
"Well," I mumbled, remembering the vicious way I had torn into his boyfriend. "Good to know."
Seeing as that didn't do much for my nerves, he suddenly swerved right, rushing into a busy intersection with the ease of a practiced manic driver. "I'm feeling like a cheeseburger," he announced unceremoniously, pulling into a parking lot of some place I never noticed.
I doubted that I could swallow anything at all but relented, sitting down opposite him in the furthest booth from the entrance. I ordered the biggest milkshake they had as Tony grinned big at the waitress, finally taking off his sunglasses when she left for the kitchen.
I rested my elbows on the table under the scrutiny of his gaze. He kept quiet. I couldn't hold back my curiosity any more. "So?"
His sharp, clever brown eyes captured and held mine for the longest second in my life. I struggled not to break eye contact until he relented, focusing on the shine of my rings instead. "RoboCop almost died from the shit that happened to him," Tony's words were curt. I inhaled sharply, assuming he was talking about Barnes. The engineer's fingers began to fiddle with his glasses. "We couldn't figure out how you helped him. Not the medical, not Banner, not me and and not even Steph," he paused to run a hand through his hair. "Barnes was hit with a poisoned arrow. There were no toxins left in his body, not even a single inflammation marker showed up on the tests." With that, Tony expectantly turned to me.
I chewed on my lip in contemplation. "Magic," I simply answered, figuring Strange had already briefed him about my occupation.
Tony shook his head with a snort. "Magic that the Sorcerer Supreme doesn't recognize or cannot detect?" The question was saved in nature.
Stephen Strange was Sorcerer Supreme and I had pissed him off and remained alive. I couldn't believe my luck, if Odette's stories were anything to go by. Inwardly rejoicing, I nonetheless resigned to answer truthfully. "Because there is nothing to detect, no foreign energy," I tried to phrase it in a way a scientist could understand. "What I use to heal, it is given me by nature and willingly. Think of me as a... Conductor. I merely store the energy short-term and direct it where it is needed."
That sparked a visible interest in Tony. He leaned forward, running my whole form, over and over, with his sharp eyes, searching for something I knew he wouldn't find. "Like... Making a blood transfusion?" It was obvious that he was thinking hard about the subject. "Like a successful organ transplant?"
"Something like that," I agreed amicably, seeing as he was talking at himself rather than engaging in a conversation with me.
"But it doesn't come from nothing, the first law of thermodynamics..." He started off in slight confusion.
"Yes, the total amount of energy remains constant," I interrupted him, making his eyes widen. "It's all around us, Mr. Stark. You cannot see it, and most people even cannot feel it, but mother Earth supports her creations. More than we like to think," the corner of my mouth tilted upward at the memories. Working with Gaia directly was like being briefly submersed in a cocoon of pure, warm sunshine; like being held in mother's arms as a babe. "She is kind and she is merciful, especially to the ones whose suffering is unjust," I let the man mull over my words.
The waitress brought our orders; my throat was parched, I took a few haste gulps of the chocolate milkshake. Tony's burger, however, remained unnoticed and untouched.
"Earth is a sentient organism?"
The question made my eyebrows rise; I coughed slightly, meeting his confused eyes with a smirk. "Mr. Stark, keep your science headcanons to yourself," the banter came easily now that the status quo was established.
He rolled his eyes, fitfully resisting the smile tugging at his mouth. "I'm telling on you to Mean Green," there was no malice behind his words.
I doubted the shy scientist would do much more than stutter out two jumbled questions but let the topic slide in favour of closing up on the issue. "Would you call a wolf sentient? No," I shook my head. "But it is autonomous, it has free will. Think of it like that," I wasn't really up to par on explaining Tony all the ins and outs of my craft. The more I spoke, the more questions danced in his eyes. It was charming but not something I wanted to spend most of my day on.
"I won't pretend to be anything but sceptical but as it is, I happen to be dating a wizard," the engineer finally chortled, making hands for his burger. He made a vague gesture with his fork, expression still not-quite out of the thinking place.
"They say opposites attract," I shrugged.
"Romanoff keeps saying we're two sides of the same coin, so," he non-commitally shrugged in return. "Can't help but wonder what the fuck did you tell him that day. He was seething," Tony raised an eyebrow, tone teasing.
"Oh lord," I briefly palmed my face. "Here comes the shovel talk."
"No, no," a fry landed on the table in front of me. I snatched it right from under Tony's hand. He pouted. "He probably deserved it. I mean, you saved the Terminator and, honestly," he paused. "I heard about one third of his rant and I distinctly remember something about 'girls way over their heads' and whatnot," he did a poor imitation of his boyfriend's deep voice. "Now, I consider myself a feminist so, respectfully, I disagree," he finished with a self-satisfied smirk.
I blanked, trying to process the avalanche of information. "That's a lot to unpack," I acquiesced.
"It means he likes you. I would know," the man had the audacity to wink at me. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was Tony Stark.
"Are you hitting on me for your boyfriend?" I couldn't resist snarking back, briefly catching his eyes as I polished off my milkshake.
Tony looked at me through his thick, long lashes, a picture perfect visage of surprised innocence. "Maybe," his tone a little too south of friendly, the direction of his eyes a bit lower than my face.
The snort escaped me before I could put a stop to it. The banter - it was easy, comforting in this situation where I found myself to be akin a fish out of water. Like I was a slightly socially awkward witch, Tony was a genius engineer and a notorious flirt. He toed the lines of appropriate with practiced gusto and I hadn't had the heart to do anything but indulge in a little bit of harmless fun ever since he first stepped foot in the café, seeing right through his stone cold facade of an alleged womaniser. Call it a hunch, if you will.
Say what you want about Tony Stark but one thing was definite: he was a gentleman. I thoroughly enjoyed my ride home in his expensive, fast, latest model car. As the city streets zoomed by in a flurry of blurred lines and flashing colorful lights, I allowed my mind to finally calm and resume it's usual even wandering pace.
A hand loosely thrown over the steering wheel, Tony quietly hummed along to the music, playing with the hem of his tee whenever it wasn't occupied with driving the car. He looked so peaceful like that.
The sound system played some contemporary rock that blended in with the moderately busy afternoon of the NYC streets, submerging the surroundings in catharsis. Grey everything with the occasional burst of colour from a traffic light; the brief car ride lulled me into a state almost drowsy.
"You with me, Salem?" Tony's voice quietly took me out of my stupor.
I blinked, seeing the front door of my apartment building. "Yeah, yeah, thanks," I didn't resist the big, wide smile of relief and rejoiced upon seeing his face return to his normal expression, sparkling and mischievous. "That's my stop," I motioned lamely.
Something hung in the air, something unsaid. It leaked through the gaps between Tony's smile and his eyes, it filled up the car with something thick and foggy. I was powerless to stop its influence on me; the daze remained just as it was when we zoomed through city streets.
Tony's fingers twitched on the steering wheel as I exited the vehicle, giving him a short wave before he put pedal to the metal, quickly disappearing into the twilight. I watched his tail lights glow red amongst the flat blacks and greys and beiges of my surroundings, blinking away the dryness in my eyes only when the car disappeared from my view completely.
My apartment was just as I'd left it, warm and slightly messy- but a new feeling had crawled up from the very gutter of me, foreign and impending. The walls didn't breathe the comfort I had hoped I would finally find: if anything, none of what I encountered on my rapid beeline towards the couch felt real.
I'd grown accustomed to the comforts of my solitude and routine, to attached to the simplest task of being. Sorting through my dirty laundry had never been a favourable ordeal for me, I'd much rather lived in a relatively wide bubble- rationally, I knew that sooner or later, change had have to come, but there was nothing ever rational about having feelings on one matter or another.
My spirit was trying to tell me big things were coming and I had no choice but to listen and let the currents of fate and happenstance snatch me up and take me whichever way they pleased.
Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox
#practical alchemy#bun writes#tony stark x reader x stephen strange#stephen strange x reader x tony stark#Stephen Strange x reader#tony stark x reader#tony stark x y/n#tony stark x you#stephen strange x y/n#stephen strange x you#mcu fanfiction#marvel fanfiction
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effortlessly pt. 10 || jungkook & reader
title: effortlessly (the finale) pairing: jungkook x reader words: 4.0k genre: fluff, romance, school!au, smut some chapters notes: ;u; patience is key, epilogue coming out soon! p.s. hope you guys stay for my next jungkook series! ;u;
series: part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || part nine || part ten || epilogue
The seasons come by quickly— Autumn, Winter, Spring. Last summer had come to an end with you leaving the admissions office with a plan and an answer; a decision that was made up completely by yourself.
You’re grateful for Jungkook because he doesn’t probe you about your decision and promised to wait patiently until you’re ready.
Autumn comes around with its descending leaves from the now naked trees, filling the roads with shades of golds, reds, and browns, sparse in air, leaving every scene on your walk to school like a sepia photograph. It’s the season of football, pumpkin spice lattes, pumpkin spice flavored anything, really, and Halloween. Then Winter approaches with a scare; a blanket of snow dropping over the school yard, the fields, and every corner of the entire city. Light jackets now replaced with thicker and longer ones, you can’t help but groan at the difficulty of tying your shoes with how stiff yours are.
“Ugh, why did I buy this again?”
Jungkook laughs merrily at the sight, mostly because you just look so small and cozy in your coat, struggling to reach down to your toes. He taps his thigh for you to place your foot, a grin stretching cheek to cheek. You comply as he responds, “Because it’s December, silly. You’ll be freezing standing outside wearing your little leather jacket that you think is going to make you feel warm.”
“It’s more of a fashion statement than warmth, Jeon.” He’s tying the laces of your Doc Martens, fingers nimble and cold, and thighs shivering from the remains of the snow that gets on his pants, the wetness seeping through the fabric and onto his skin. “Well, you’re going to catch a cold wearing that thing around. That’s why you need this.” When he finishes, he drops your leg down, pulling the hood of your jacket over your head snugly. “So please don’t get sick because that means that I also have to play sick to stay home and take care of you.” Jungkook is effortlessly caring.
Jungkook hates the cold. Only because it takes away a location for him to swim— outside. But this year, he doesn’t seem to hate it as much. Maybe it’s because now, you’re his, and he can replace the time he dedicated to swim outside to spend time with you instead.
Especially when he gets to see you in the Christmas Village, mouth gaping wide with a bright smiling following after, face brightened by the colorful string of lights that surround you. “Wow,” Amazed, your eyes twinkle at the view. “Now this is something to talk about.” He hates himself for not taking you here every other year, the guys convincing him that it was too romantic for two friends to go to, but he can’t help but wonder what if he took you years before and learned how much he was in love with you earlier?
You spend the holidays at his house, meeting his grandparents and extended family while your parents decide to go on a trip to Hawaii. It’s become a tradition, really, your parents ditching the whole family bonding thing, and you spending that time with Jungkook’s family instead.
His mom loves you. Although your sleepovers have slowly become stagnant because of her suspicion of you guys doing more than just movies and sleeping, she wouldn’t want anyone else to be with her son other than you.
The Jeon’s have everything set for the holidays; from the tree with presents pleasantly wrapped placed intricately underneath, to the decoration that drapes the fireplace, to the strings of tinsel and garland that cascades down the staircases, and the wreath that hangs on the front door. Ms. Jeon is obsessed with Christmas and favors nothing more, perfecting the holiday over the years for her family... well, mostly herself.
Even though Jungkook spends day and night complaining about his mom, telling her that she’s dedicating too much money and time for this ‘stupid holiday,’ he’s still the best son and tends to her every need. When she struggles in the kitchen, he’s already by her side, asking her what she needs a hand in. Or when she can’t reach a portion of the tree while decorating, there’s an annoyed expression on his face but he utilizes his towering height to help her get those spots. Jungkook is effortlessly a family man.
“So, Jungkook, I heard you got into University?” His cousin, Sooyeon, asks. She is several years older than the two of you, almost completing her undergraduate degree. “I did! I got in with an athletic scholarship.” He’s genuinely happy, the way he shares this information, like he’s finally proud of himself and how far he’s gotten in life. The obstacles he’d overcome, the effort he had invested into the sport—they all were worth it in the end. Jeon Jungkook was reaching for his dreams.
It’s New Year’s Eve and Hoseok is hosting another party.
Underaged drinking is almost a rite of passage before entering University, and although you aren’t much of a rule breaker, it feels like something you need to do. Break out of your shell, despite the discomfort of knowing the consequences because once you get into college, none of this was going to be the same anymore. You won’t get to see Hoseok standing on the table, hollering out and swaying along to the song that plays. Jimin won’t be complaining about girls who reject him constantly. Yura won’t be there to call you out on your actions. And Jungkook, whilst he promises to stay by your side forever, there’s a possibility that it won’t happen.
“You look so pretty tonight.” Jungkook compliments you in a slur, cheeks rosy from the alcohol. You look down at your current attire; a silver sequined satin cami paired with a black leather jacket and jeans. Glancing up at the boy, you laugh at the sight of his cheeks, hand reaching up to pinch them. “You think so, Jeon?”
“If I’m being honest, I think you’re always pretty.” He hums against your hand, turning his face to give it a peck. “And I’m happy I get to be here with you. I hope you never go, and I hope nothing comes between us. It’d be nice, you know, if we...” He drifts off, mind fogging with thoughts that made him giddy because he’s giggling incessantly.
“If we what, love?”
“If we got married. Then we’d be best friends then high school sweethearts that made it.” Jungkook’s words soar you to the moon. He shares the same dream, whether or not it happens.
When the clock strikes 12, in spite of his current intoxication, he doesn’t forget you. Cupping your face in his large, warm hands, lips puckering up, he smooches you all over, laughter erupting from you. Jungkook is effortlessly a happy virus.
“Has Jungkook asked you to prom yet?”
“What?” Skimming through the pages of your notebook while in homeroom, you’re only half paying attention to anything Yura is saying. You’re on a mission to find something and even Yura can’t stop you.
Winter is still lingering, mostly waiting for Spring to make its appearance and nobody else is more excited for it to come than Yura. Only because it’s prom season, of course.
“Jungkook,” She reiterates, this time louder. “Jeon Jungkook? The love of your life? Is he asking you to prom?”
“Oh, prom.” Stopping at a page, your finger browsing through the highlighted and colored writing while furrowing your brows, focusing on the task. “Uh... no?”
“No?!” Yura exclaims, startling you out of your actions. She’s got your attention now. “It’s two months away. You won’t have enough time to find a dress or test out how your makeup is going to look and the shoes! What about your shoes?”
“Well, if it has your panties in a knot, why don’t you ask him yourself?”
You regret telling her that because she does. Your comment during a time of not fully investing the entirety of your attention has brought you to this: a locker filled to the brim of red roses. There’s a card in the middle of it all, so you grab it, tear it open where in the sloppiest writing it says: turn around.
There Jungkook was, in all his beauty, standing in the middle of the hall with a box of donuts in hand, opened with the writing: i donut want to go to prom with anyone else but you!
It’s not that you hate it. No, you disgustingly love it, but you wished you had Jungkook all to yourself. He’s too great, and him standing in his uniform with donuts from your favorite bakery, you can almost feel the piercing glares from other girls down the hall. But he’s yours, nonetheless, and you didn’t wish for anything more.
Yura’s exaggeration on how long it’ll take to find a dress isn’t so much of an exaggeration when you’re shuffling through dresses in the department stores with her for the next two months, the quantity of gowns dropping by the hour. You’re grateful you found something just two weeks before the date.
Although you think the prom theme being “Hollywood” is the tackiest thing you ever heard— the sight of Jungkook standing outside of your house with both a corsage and boutonnière in hand with his hair styled back, black suit and tie with a white button up underneath, your breath hitches. He makes you feel like you’re in the presence of a celebrity; he has the ability of grabbing the attention from an entire room, despite leaning against such an old car in need of a new paint job.
In spite of it all, he seems in awe as much as you are. He thinks you’re gorgeous like this— like he’s the one who is lucky, not the other way around. You lean over, hair blown out and in a black gown that hugs your curves and compliments only the parts you wished for it to, wiping the little drip of drool that falls out the corner of his mouth. “You good, bub?”
“More than good,” he says, voice raspy. “You look... stunning.”
“Speak for yourself.” Jungkook is effortlessly handsome like this, and you wish you could keep this view all to yourself. But tonight is a time to be far from selfish.
You want to flaunt Jungkook, more than he wants to flaunt you, you convince yourself. Mostly because when you step into the gymnasium that’s fully decked out in decor, everyone’s eyes are on Jungkook.
“I think they’re all looking at you,” He would say, but you’re not stupid. Your arms are linked with a God-like man with a personality that represents it. He does nothing but help you walking in your unfamiliarity in heels, introduce you to some of his classmates that you’ve never met before, yet manages to dedicate enough time for just the two of you, dancing the night away, whispering sweet nothings into your ears before pressing his lips against your forehead delicately.
Jungkook wins Prom King that night while some pretty girl in your grade named Nayeon wins Prom Queen. He doesn’t devote his dance to her though, he apologizes and takes your hand instead.
When he takes you home that night, the only expectation you had was to go home, shower and change into your sleepwear and sit by the window sill to talk the hours away with Jungkook from across the way.
But it’s prom. So you drive with him down the shore, wearing a spare hoodie he leaves in the trunk of his car for days that get cold after practices, and holds your hand while you stomp barefooted in the sand. He’s so pretty under the moonlight, you take note, the way that it shines on the bridge of his nose, brightens the shade of brown his orbs are, and brings warmth into his smile and laughs when you share stories about your high school years.
The two of you make love in the backseat of his car with the sunroof opened, under the moon. Although it feels corny to do and such a cliché concept to have sex on prom night, it doesn’t feel that way with Jungkook. You argue that his car might not be able to take the constant movements, but Jungkook doesn’t care. He just wants to shower you with kisses and love throughout the hours that pass by.
When you come back to school the following Monday, Yura sits backwards nervously in her chair, staring at a letter that sits on your desk. Furrowing your brows in confusion, you gesture the piece of paper with your chin. “What’s up with that?”
“It’s... a letter, from Le Cordon Bleu. Pretty much to the equivalent to an Ivy League for culinary schools.”
Oh. Now you understand why the air felt weird. Quickly, you shuffle into your seat and slide off your backpack onto the floor. “Okay, well. What are you waiting for? Open it!”
She whimpers. “I’m scared.”
“Well, you told me to stop being scared and just do it. So, bitch, do it.”
While protesting, she does as told. Tearing the envelope open and the unraveling of the sheet of paper was nerve wrecking, possibly even more for you.
“I... got in.” Holy shit. “You got in?”
“Guess who’s going to France, bitch!”
It’s a reality, this sight of your best friend; the brightest smile on her face, cheekbones defined from the excitement in her. A dream she had, a dream that you never even knew had been a priority in her life, was coming true.
Whether or not it was jealousy, you were proud of her regardless. Yura was able to attain her goals before even graduating high school. After further research, you learned that there were many locations for this school, and her dream was to be able to expand her knowledge throughout all those countries.
You’re tired of hearing him talk about his plans for the future where it sounded like none of the routes included you. Jungkook goes on from when the sun rises to the sun sets about what he wants to do in life, where he wants to go, and where he hopes to be at whatever age. You could listen to him talk for hours like it's a song on repeat that you never grow to hate, but today, it felt inconsistent. He had all these things he wanted to do but where were you?”
“Where do I even fit in all of this?” You finally get the courage to blurt.
Jungkook’s forehead is creased in disbelief at your outburst. “What are you talking about?”
“Well,” you start, fumbling with the fabric of your shirt, “you haven’t even mentioned me once. It’s like you’re also planning for your escape out of this relationship.”
He’s fuming. It’s been a while since he’s been this mad, especially since your last huge argument had nearly been a year ago. Otherwise, with Jungkook, there had been small disagreements that were recoverable but it feels different this time. “You don’t get to be upset with me for planning a future without you because if I’m being totally honest, you still haven’t told me what you decided that day you walked into that office, and I’m feeling rather insecure about whether or not you trust me!”
“Don’t hate me,” eyes glassy and voice wavering, your bottom lip is quivering, on the verge of tears of pure fear that Jungkook would resent you for your decision. “I told the recruiter to give that position away to someone else.”
“And why would I be mad at that?” He says, pulling you into his embrace, pressing a chaste kiss against your cheek before nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry I lashed out. I’m glad you came to that decision, I’m glad you’re telling this. Even if it’s not on the sidelines of the swimming pool with me, nagging at me what to do. Because you’ll still be there to support me.”
Your shoulders slouch, still feeling guilty wash over you like a tidal wave. “I just didn’t want you to be upset because of how much effort you went through to get me there. To even get me that offer.”
“I didn’t do anything, love.” Before a tear can escape further down your face, he swipes it away with the pad of his thumb after he pulls away. “You did that all yourself. They found you, knew who you were, and loved you. I just led them to find you. So, what did you decide on instead if you didn’t take that apprenticeship? Are you attending another University?”
“No,” You respond abruptly, rubbing your head into his chest again, muttering your next words into the fabric of his shirt. “She told me that it doesn’t take away my opportunity to still attend University there. So I enrolled there as undecided.”
There’s silence between the two of you before he finally speaks up. “Undecided?”
You don’t want to face him. Especially if the expression on his face may show disappointment, and that’s the least thing you want to do to Jungkook on your list. “Yes.” You mumble. “I didn’t know what I wanted to do, but I thought at least going to college and trying to figure out while I’m there would be at least a start in the right direction.”
Grasping you by the shoulders, he tugs you away to clearly see your face. Finally meeting his gaze, his face showed the opposite. A gleaming smile pulling on the edges of his lips with eyes that shine and sparkle underneath this lighting, you’re stunned by his reaction. “I’m so proud of you!”
“What?” Lips swollen from the crying, you pout, almost bursting out in hyperventilating tears because you didn’t want this to end before college even starts. “You chose something. You made a decision on your own, solely based on what you felt was the best for you, not because you wanted to make someone else happy. That’s all I ever wanted for you.” Jungkook is effortlessly unselfish because he wants you to be his personal coach, yet he’s telling you to do what you want to do. “I just want you to be happy. I’m happy if you are.”
“But... I should be honest with you.” He’s the one who seems uneasy now, chewing on his bottom lip anxiously. “I... not only accepted the scholarship, but they want to send me to the States for a couple months in the summer for training with Taehyung.”
You’re not stupid. What that’s code for is that there’s a chance they’re going to keep Jungkook there, offer him another University scholarship elsewhere in the States, and continue his training. How could they not? With the way he swims, his drive and ability to adapt to any situation, he’s desirable to any team. He might not be yours anymore, and as much as you wished you could keep him all to yourself, he’s Jungkook. Who wouldn’t want him?
You learned that ever since you met him. Jungkook is so wonderful, he’s meant to be shared, and everyone should know him. He’s the spark in your life that you never knew you needed until you meet him.
It only sucked because it felt like once you finally got him, it’s already time to let him go.
Yet when you see him standing by your side in the crowd of people in your class, on a large patch of grass that they call a football field, cap and gown in the shades of your school colors, you can’t hate anyone for wanting a piece of him. He’s only eighteen but he’s managed to accomplish so many of his goals in such a short span of time. He’s able to catch the attention of an audience bigger than the crowd at Madison Square Garden. He was able to swoon the majority of the female population in your high school. Jungkook did what even he thought was impossible, he did more than exceed his own expectations.
So when you’re standing with your diplomas in hand after throwing your cap in the air, the grin that’s glued onto his face does everything to your heart. How lucky were you to experience a first love like Jeon Jungkook?
There wasn’t much time left. Graduation is over, degrees now in hand, and futures that are waiting for your attendance.
It’s Summer again, the excruciating heat beaming from the sun’s rays reappearing, an entire year passing by since your confession to Jungkook. Although you’d rather be spending your anniversary in the next few days leading up to it, there’s a different occasion tonight under this familiar sweltering heat.
Jungkook leaves tomorrow at noon for America yet he’s procrastinating the remaining stuff he needs to pack for his trip. Well, he says it’s a trip, but you have a feeling that his stay is going to be longer than anticipated.
If you’re being truly honest with yourself, you’re scared. Eighteen, best friend/boyfriend who had been with you your entire life is leaving for the unknown. Your other best friend is leaving to pursue her dreams elsewhere as well, alone and without anyone to support her physically.
But you can’t help but think about yourself. What did this mean for you, someone who was losing the most important people in her life that were all going to hunt their aspirations, while you were just... undecided?
Laying in the field of grass, head resting comfortably on Jungkook’s arm while his other sits on his chest, the two of you admire the sunset in the midst of your silence. The hues of red, pink, orange, and yellow fill the sky, dancing and blurring into one another, gifting you a sight that you’re grateful to view with Jungkook. It was going to be a while before you got to see him again, and you’re hopeful that it’ll feel just the same.
“Three months,” He’d repeat constantly, every time he sees the pain in your expression. You both had gone so long without truly being each other, and now that you finally fessed up your hidden emotions, it’s hard to let go. “It’s only going to be for three months. Then you’d have me again.”
“But you don’t know that.” You’d say, heart tightening in agony. “There’s so much of this world that wants you, Jungkook. University is just one of the potential first stops. Someone is going to take you away, whether you like it or not. You just have too much talent and potential.” Jungkook doesn’t agree with you, but he doesn’t voice this. Not tonight, at least, if it’s the last time he gets to be with you for a while.
Just like the sun, Jungkook eventually has to go away. He leaves for the States with Taehyung to train for the summer, projecting that he’d be back in time for the fall semester to start University with you. Even through texts and phone calls you get from him, he can’t give you a date when he’d be back, but he misses you dearly. You want to stay hopeful that he does return, attending classes with you again, study-dates, meeting up for coffee afterwards, have lunch and dinner, and continue your sleepovers, maybe even find an apartment and move in together.
Yet again, Jungkook... he’s effortlessly Jungkook. The guy loved by everyone, yet has the hardest time loving himself. The guy who has such a promising future, one that’s almost a guaranteed dream come true for him. There’s no need for exchanges of ‘I love yous,’ because you know he does, yet you don’t want to hold him back, so you let him go. Whether or not he comes back for the fall semester, you’re not sure, but one thing you do know is that Jeon Jungkook will be your first everything, and your current everything.
#jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook fanfic#jungkookxreader#jungkook x reader#bts#bts smut#jungkook smut#gyukultfics
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HASO, “Your Choice.”
I am having a lot of fun with this arc. Writing it has put me in a good mood, so I hope you like it as well :)
He walked the halls of the Oxystation with a gun slung over his front hanging from a shortened tac sling around his neck and shoulder. He rested his arms and hands against the weapon as he walked down the hall. The gun was more of a redundancy than anything, if any unwanted alien was able to breach the hull of the station with the armored patrol outside than his gun was just a token sign of resistance. Of course, there was always the possibility that one of the patients would become violent and attack a staff member, but that possibility was quite low, even lower than it was in human mental health clinics. Only five percent of the mentally ill population was any sort of danger to anyone but themselves, and a large percentage of that would still, likely, never do anything bringing that number down somewhere closer to one percent.
With aliens it was even less likely, they weren’t naturally aggressive like humans, so when their mental health tanked, it tended to do it with extreme anxiety and something that looked sort of like depression, though the different species presented the illness differently.
Working at the Oxyclinic had been good for him. It hadn’t been long until his enthusiasm for alien life had come trickling back in, and his fear had been discarded like a sock with a hole in it. He had even offered to help with the oxytheropy that the psychologists were offering. If anything was gong to get rid of his lingering fear of aliens, it was probably going to involve spooning one.
A weird way to deal with internalized fear but there you had it.
The oxystation wasn’t just for the oxytheropy. Human and alien psychologists were taking the time to learn about other species, and put together differing treatment plans for their patients. There was a high turnover rate, and not all the people who came to the clinic ended up staying, not all of them needed oxytheropy, and not all of them would do well having it considering that some of the fear the patients had often centered their issues around humans. To his surprise, he found that a lot of it centered around the Drev war.
He looked down at his watch and took a sharp right turn down the nearest hallway entering the guard quarters just as his watch reached the hour.
“Morning LT.” Someone called and he waved a hand.
“Anything to report?”
“Nothing, all is quiet as usual.”
He ejected the magazine of his gun, and checked the chamber to make sure it wasn’t still loaded before racking it in the safebox as one of the other men stepped up to take his place on patrol.
The other group of men and women looked up at him from where they sat around a table playing cards, “Want us to deal you in.”
Adam shook his head walking over to his locker and pulling out a fresh pair of light blue scrubs, “No I promised the doc I would help today.”
The other humans shook their heads and rolled their eyes, “leave it up to you to want to spoon aliens.”
“Spooning aliens is a lucrative job. You should try it sometime, maybe you’d finally have enough money to buy the bag you’ve always wanted.”
“Bag?”
“YEah the nice one to cover your face.” he shut the locker and grinned at the car players to let them know it was all in good fun before turning towards the bathroom, where he changed and stepped back out. The scrubs were very breazy in comparison to his guard uniform and he shivered slightly returning to his locker.
It was important for people working on the ward to be completely unarmed, and for the humans to look as non threatening as possible. A strict list of instructions urged them not to smile with their teeth, and to keep their hands and feet covered at all times. He wasn’t entirely sure if the fuzzy socks and mittens were entirely necessary for that, but apparently some of the aliens interpreted human nails as claws, and some genius had thought that covering them up like this was very nonthreatening.
Looking in the mirror he had to admit it worked.
In his light blue scrubs and the fuzzy white mittens, he looked more like the easter bunny than he did a killer.
But then again, in real life he didn’t look much like a killer either.
He turned to walk out the door flipping off the people geering at him before remembering that he was wearing a mitten, which kind of negated the point of the gesture.
From there he wandered back up the hall and was buzzed into the ward after waving to the camera. He went through a few metal detectors which pinged on his leg, but they let him through anyway as he stepped into the hall and up to the staff room where the other workers and a few psychologists were having a break.
He took a seat in a chair and idly watched the TV.
HE looked around at the people who wore similar clothes as him and noted, not for the first time, that it took a special kind of person to do this job. All of these people were remarkably docile and relaxed people, and as far as he knew the vast majority of them had no shame. Despite humans being prone to cuddling pretty much anything and everything, its was pretty hard to spoon an alien and not feel awkward about it, but these people right here, they either enjoyed it or they were damn good at faking it.
Adam wasn’t good at faking anything so he was the former.
HE shifted slightly in his seat thinking about some of the aliens on the ward before his mind inevitably shifted to…. To him…. The alien that he dreaded seeing the most…. A big, tall hulking creature that wandered his nightmares and made his leg ache.
The Drev.
The Drev with eyes like the thing that had stolen his leg.
He put a hand to his head feeling a bit dizzy. He had only had one PTSD related panic attack since getting here, and that was only because he had been accidentally exposed to the Drev unexpectedly one day and without knowing that he was on the ward. It had been embarrassing for him as he tried not to let anyone know about his condition, but based on that incident he had been forced to come clean.
Ever since that incident he had been quietly forcing himself to get closer and closer to the Drev despite the psychologists telling him that it was perfectly acceptable for him to step off the ward if the Drev was on.
But adam didn’t like that mentality much.
He had always felt, ever since returning from the Drev war, that people were too soft on him. They always sat there and told him that it was fine and whatever he needed to do was important, that he couldn’t blame himself if he couldn’t handle something. They were all very forgiving and very understanding, but that's not what he wanted. At some point, he felt that it was acceptable to get up in someone's face and tell them that: no you aren't doing good enough and that you behavior isn’t ok.
He wanted people to ask more of him, not less, and he wanted to get better not stay stagnant.
If other people wanted to spend their days medicated and avoiding the things that made them hurt than that was their decision, but he planned on healing all the way.
It was a thought that he espoused only for himself and did not apply it to others.
Their mental health was their business.
Either way, he was going to make something out of this, and had slowly been approaching the Drev on the ward over time. He didn’t know if the Drev knew, and it didn’t matter to him so much, but he did have a bit of his own agenda.
The door creaked open, and one of the psychologists stuck her head into the room looking around for a quick moment before her eyes fell on Adam.
“Lieutenant, can I speak with you for a moment.”
For a second Adam’s heart stopped a little. Was he in trouble? Had he done something wrong?
He tried looking at her face to see any signs of displeasure, but she was a difficult woman to read, so he stood slowly and followed her from the room and back into her office where he took a seat.
She sat across from him at her desk hands folded together. SHe looked him over with eyes that seemed to bore into his sole, “How are you doing, Adam.”
He shifted nervously in his seat, “Er… I thought I was a staff member not a patient.”
“Just humor me.”
“I’m good.”
“Any panic attacks recently.”
“No ma’am.”
“Are you being truthful.”
“You and I both know I’m shit at lying.”
She grunted and clasped her hands together looking at him with a stern expression.
HE shifted awkwardly in his seat, “What” “I have… a mission for you, though it is one I worry might jeopardize your mental health if it goes wrong, and the mental health of my patient as well. If it goes right however I think it would do BOTH of you a world of good. What I would be asking you to do is…. Of questionable ethicality.”
That made him nervous. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean by asking you to jeopardize your mental health, I could be in serious violation of a couple of major statutes in my field, however assuming you do it willingly it might not be so bad.”
Despite his apprehension, his curiosity won out, “Go on?”
“Kanan.”
“Cannon, WHat?”
“No, Kanan, the name of the Drev on the ward.”
Adam shifted in his seat, stomach churning, “Oh…. go on.”
“Have you noticed he has a limp.”
“I…. suppose I haven't looked closely enough.”
“Well he does, and you want to guess where he got that limp?”
He had a pretty good guess, “The war?”
“Exactly.”
“And….. I suppose you think….” He trailed off
“He lost everything during the war Adam, his mate, his honor, his home. He is injured and exiled, and at this moment there are very few people in the galaxy that can even partially understand what he has gone through.” She leaned back in her chair looking at him, “I think, that having someone like you to speak with about what happened would be,.... Beneficial to both of you.” She paused, “DId you know that human and Drev psychology is surprisingly similar….”
He shook his head, “Well it is, and I think the two of you would recover faster if you had something to work on together.”
“With all due respect ma’am, my papers say I’m recovered.”
“The UNSC isn’t exactly known for their in depth medical reviews Lieutenant. I know they overlooked some things. Either way, it’s your choice.”
***
Adam stood in front of the door. His hands were sweating leaving the inside of the mitten’s sticky and unpleasant. He felt nauseous, but swallowed to hold it down eyes wide as he stared at the door. What was he doing? What was he doing?
He took a deep breath.
Not being a coward, that’s what he was doing. He reached a hand up and knocked on the door before he could chicken out. There was silence and the knock seemed to echo down the hall for eternity. He waited, and waited, and waited, and assumed at some point maybe he had caught the large alien sleeping, but then the door opened.
His human knee went weak, and it was only the prosthetic that kept him standing as he stared up at the huge, hulking figure.
Adam was, tall 6,2 to be precise, but this hulking behemoth had to have been around or over nine feet tall, with blood red armor, and four bulging arms. It stared at him with bright golden eyes that brought echoes of his past welling up into his ears. He felt as if he was about to fall over, but then the creature turned and trundled back into the room, snapping Adam out of his trance.
He was breathing hard, and he thought about turning back, but instead, he stepped softly into the room leaving the door open just as crack as he moved inside.
The room around him was dark, and the floor was scattered with crumbled pieces of paper.
A box of markers lay on the ground to one side. He looked down to see he was stepping on a discarded piece of paper, and stepped back to look down, realizing the drawing there was of a tree, with striped bark and spiraling branches. It looked like something out of a Dr Seus book though he recognized it as an Anum/ Anin coiltree.
He crouched down to pick the paper up.
He looked up to see the Drev had returned to the edge of his cot and was sitting down, a shapeless form in the dark.
“You mind if I turn the light on?” Adam asked.
At first the Drev didn’t answer, but then he took a long breath through those strange holes in his neck and managed a deep, rumbling, “THe colors are too bright.”
Adam paused then, “Well neither of us can see very well in the dark and, he held up the page, drawing in the dark can’t be easy.”
There was a grunt.
“I’m going to turn the lights on.”
The Drev didn’t stop him, and as he did the room lit up showing even more pages scattered over the floor, all drawings of Anin some of them sloppy, some of them, quite artistic for a species he hadn’t thought practiced art.
He knelt down to examine a few of them, “Not bad.”
He picked up one of the pictures to examine it.
“This looks like the valley between the volcanic belts.”
The Drev turned to look at him, and when his eyes fell on Adam, the page slipped from his hand floating back to the floor.
The uncanny deepness of it’s golden eyes unnerved him.
“You were in the war?”
Adam’s hands were shaking, but he clasped them together to hide that fact.”
There was a long silence between them, and then he reached down pulling up the leg of his scrubs to reveal the titanium construction underneath, “I was.”
The Drev seemed surprised and looked up at him.
“You were one of them.” he said it very flatly, and Adam suddenly grew very worried that the Drev would kill him in revenge for being part of the operation that decimated his people.
“One of your number killed my father.”
Fuck
He went to back away but the Drev just looked down.
He sighed very deeply, “You were a strong and worthy opponent. We never had a chance.”
His voice was not bitter, or hate filled. There was some measure of regret behind his words but not enough to constitute anger. And when Adam looked at the creature, he could do nothing but feel sorry for him.
He quietly walked over trying to avoid the pages on the floor and then, unsure, sat next to the large figure.
Adam was not used to feeling small, but sitting next to the huge figure of the drev, he felt very tiny indeed.
The inside of the gloves were absolutely soaking, and with some measure of annoyance he tossed them off and onto the floor.
He wiped his palm on his shirt, reached out, fingers trembling and rested a hand on the Drev’s arm.
“You want to tell me about it? I.. My people didn’t exactly take the time to understand yours….. Now that I think about it it hardly seems fair.”
The Drev snorted ,”My mother believed that war was supposed to be fair, but my father understood that there was always inherent unfairness in battle…. The two of them didn’t get along towards the end. I think I agree with my father, to assume that your species would abide by our rules of combat was…. Ignorant of us.” The Drev turned to look at him, “Your species is much more efficient at war than mine is.”
His hands weren’t shaking anymore.
And he realized that, when he looked at this Drev, He didn’t see much of an enemy at all.
But he did see someone broken by the war…. Just like him.
He looked down at his feet, and when he did his eyes came across another drawing. This one of a drev, It really only had an outline since it’s carapace seemed to be white, and the way it had been rendered with such delicate care, made it pretty clear to Adam who it might have been.
He picked it up quietly.
“You…. want to tell me about her?”
The Drev turned to look his eyes resting on the picture. Adam didn’t think up to this point he could read Drev facial expressions, but the welling of sadness in the creature’s face was so poignant that Adam felt his own chest tighten,
Damn the human’s heightened sense of empathy.
For a moment he thought the Drrev was going to tell him to get out, but, instead, he took the image and stared down at it, “Nechal…. Named after the moon….. She was the most glorious fighter I had ever seen in battle, strong, and graceful and powerful. She was not afraid to die, but she didn’t let that lower her guard. On the battlefield she was a goddess of war, and off…. She was…. Kind in ways that aren’t common among our people. I may have been attracted to her because of her fighting prowess, but I loved her because of the kindness she showed. Especially towards my sister… someone who needed kindness more than anyone I know.”
He took a very deep breath and when he spoke again his words were thick.
Could Drev cry? “In our people it is…. Custom not to mourn the dead who are lost in battle because their return to the spiritual realm will be glorious. It is a great honor to lose a mate in battle….” He looked down at his four hands, “But I do not feel honored…. I feel alone…. I miss her, ever day and every night I miss her, and I wish she hadn’t died…” He looked up and when he did Adam was struck by the expression of pain and grief on his face.
As if he was feeling the Drev’s pain in real time, he felt his chest clench again, and tears welled in his eyes. How could he not?
Anyone who didn’t feel the same must have had no feelings?
“I was exiled because…. I could not follow her into the afterlife…. With my injury I should have given my body over to the fire, and maybe then I'd be with her, but I just…. I couldn’t do it. I miss her every day and yet I don’t have the strength to go to her…. I am a fraud among my people, a coward and a fraud and….
“Hey! Hold on.”
The Drev went quiet and turned to look at Adam who was now gripping his arm tight in one hand.
“You think she’d want to hear you say that.”
That seemed to take the Drev off guard and he stared at Adam with some measure of confusion.
“You said she was kind wasn’t she….. Well then I doubt she'd appreciate you talking about yourself like that.”
He was quiet for some time.
“Look I…. I lost my leg during the war to…. To one of your soldiers and. It’s messed me up for a real long time. Hell you scare the daylights out of me, but I’m moving forward.”
THe Drev frowned at him, “Scared of… us… you won?”
Adam laughed, “We didn’t win anything. Nobody won, a lot of people died and a lot of people were crippled, and for what? I think about that a lot, for honor? Honor. Well maybe I don’t understand what honor means because to me, it would be something worth dying over.”
The Drev contemplated him for a long time.
“We may have won but we did it with scared soldiers like me, and broken soldiers like me. I’m probably never going to recover from the war. That’s the difference between you and me, you guys can make it through war in one piece but me…. Humans… we may be good at war but it destroys us.”
He sighed, “I guess what I am trying to say is, instead of feeling sorry for what you can’t change, why not move forward. Do something you think is worth it, do something Ne-” he stumbled over the Drev word, “Nechal would think was worth it.”
He didn’t know what he was saying, he didn’t know if what he was saying even made sense. Nerves had always made him ramble. He knew he was talking too much but he didn’t know what else to do.
The Drev looked down, and Adam. as was his training made a bit of a decision.
He shut up.
Which was a feat in itself.
Reached over and hugged the larger alien. His arms didn’t make it anywhere close to wrapping around him, but he hoped that maybe it would help?
He didn’t know.
He was kind of just a raging idiot most of the time, so his plans were usually half assed at best.
The Drev stiffened and then relaxed. Adam’s head was resting against the creature’s huge planted shoulder. It felt like hugging corded steel cables.
He would have to say that being hugged by something with four arms was a bit of an experience. Most aliens didn’t usually hug back, they were more the recipient of hugs, but it seemed that the Drev wasn’t unfamiliar with the concept, either that or he learned fast, and damn Adam felt even smaller encircled in the arms of the huge alien.
Kanan could have crushed him if he wanted, but let him go not long after to Adam’s surprise and relief.
The Drev looked at him.
He looked back
“You are strange creatures.”
He gave a weak smile, forgetting the rule about showing teeth, “So they say.”
It was a bit of a gamble but things had worked out better than the psychologist could have hoped. Drev are more receptive to self reflection than humans are. Humans like to internalize things, and their brains become obsessive. Drev have more control over their minds in many cases than humans do, so Adam’s encouragement for Kanan to do something his dead mate would think worthwhile showed results almost immediately.
To Adam’s grudging pleasure, the Drev seemed to be recovering faster than he was.
And was well on his way to recovering completely when the communication came for Adam one night while he sat lying on his bed next to Waffles, thinking about his future.
The pink roused him from near sleep and he sat up on one elbow to look at the time.
i t was only nine earth time, so he rolled onto his side and sat up, patching the communication through.
A light blue screen of holographic image filled his vision, and on the other side he could see Colonel Kelly sitting in front of him….. At least Colonel until he realized the star on her uniform.
His eyes widened slightly. He went to speak but she shook her head at him.
“I trust you are doing well Lieutenant.”
“Yes ma’am. I have no complaints.”
She nodded, “Good, good, I am sorry to intrude, but I am afraid this rest period is over for you. You are requested to return to earth on the next outgoing transport.”
He frowned and rubbed the back of his head, “Uh of course ma’am but…. Why?”
She stared at him long and hard, ‘I have a very important decision for you to make. It is one that is not going to be popular or easy, but I urge you to accept my request.”
He frowned and shook his head, “You aren't making sense, What is this all about?”
“Tensions are rising between our delegates and the GA, if we don’t do something soon, I am worried that this will devolve into infighting and eventually war. I have to work fast in order to stop this outcome, and you are the lynchpin that holds my plan together.”
“Me.” He squeaked.
“Yes, you, now Adam, be honest with me. What is your opinion on the GA and our involvement with them?”
He rubbed the back of his neck though his thoughts were adamant, “Cooperation wherever and however possible. We need them, and I believe they could due with being our allies, ma’am.”
“And if I gave you a job to try and reach that goal, would you take it?”
“I would do whatever I had to do ma’am.”
He was being truthful.
She nodded her head.
“Good then, it’s your choice at the end of the day, but if we act now, we can change everything.”
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Everything and Nothing
Princes move to a town in Florida, Roman is gay, Pat is cute, Logan is a dork, Virgil is angsty, Remus is chaos, and Janus is an icon. <3
Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4
Pairings: eventual LAMP (slowburn) Eventual Demus
Warnings: cursing, mention of food, mention of violence, and yelling (not angry) let me know if I missed anything
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Roman Prince was no coward. He had bested many a foe, won and lost fights, shopped in the women's section whilst being given the evil eye, and most frighteningly, in Romans opinion, shared a room with her twin. However, she would be lying if he said that he wasn't terrified.
Now, this wasn't his fault at all. She hadn't told her brother to attack the kid, she had nothing to do with the fight at all. Despite her lack of involvement, the principal of the academy the twins went to thought it was best that the Princes no longer attended his school.
Roman’s parents had been fairly understanding. And, after Remus explained why he had attacked the kid to their parents. They decided it was for the best if the whole family moved.
So here she was, sitting amongst towers of boxes in a small orange room. There was only one window and a creaky pull-out bed which roman immediately threw himself onto as soon as she entered the room. He groaned loudly pulling out his phone. It had been the longest day in the history of days, there was no way that he was going to be unpacking for a long ass time.
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After a few hours of scrolling through the corvidcore tag on tumblr, Roman dragged herself off the lumpy mattress. He stretched and popped his back in a very satisfying manner. ‘It's about time I did some exploration’ she thought to herself.
“MA! I’M GOING OUT” Roman yelled down the stairs as he grabbed his docs. “K, BE BACK BEFORE 8:30!” her Ma yelled back, shooting him a thumbs up from the couch where she played cards with Remus, and Romans Ren. He nodded to her on his way out the front door.
It was a cool spring evening (as cool as it can be in Florida), moss hung from the green trees, birds screeched and twittered at each other from branches. A gentle breeze blew causing her red trench coat to flap behind her. Her docs scuffed against the sidewalk as he took a deep breath of the humid air.
The perfect time for a walk. All he needed now was a destination.
And it certainly didn't take long to find one. After around 8 minutes of walking through the town, he found a small shopping district. Taking careful note of the many thrift stores and the small pastel bookstore for himself as well as a leather and tattoo shop and for Remus.
It was difficult to not go into all the stores at once (especially one that had the most fantastic button-down dress in the window) but Roman kept walking.
Finally Roman decided on a destination. A hole in the wall cafe called the jasmine dragon had caught his eye (had Roman heard that name before?). A sweet tinkling was heard as roman opened the door, a cheery voice in the back could be heard over gentle music playing through the sound system, the song was nostalgic and sweet. Roman was almost sure he had listened to it previously, something about being able to love. The shop was almost empty save for an old couple and….. Oh god. Roman was so gay.
Across the room leaned up against the cash register joking with the cashier was the cutest person Roman had ever seen in her 15 years on the earth.
It felt like something out of a shitty fanfiction, his mouth went dry, the world spun and all he could see were those smiling blue eyes.
Suddenly those piercing eyes were on him. “Hello!!! I don’t think I’ve seen you around, are you new in town”. The person said as they walked towards her. ‘Sweet apollo, why has tho made me such a disaster gay’ roman thought to himself.
He shook off his awestruck expression and did what she did best, acted. “Indeed I am a lovely stranger. My name is Roman, what are your name and pronouns?” the person giggled (oh god roman was so gayyyyyy “I’m Patton, my pronouns are he/they today, thank you for asking! What are yours?”
‘Eeeeee he's not straight’ screamed Roman in her head. “It is beyond lovely to meet you, Patton, my pronouns are she/him” Roman grinned down at the curly-headed person. Taking a moment to admire the beautiful being in front of her. Their blond hair was dyed light blue at the tips causing his fluffy hair to look like a halo, they wore a blue skirt that hooked over his shoulders and a short sleeve white button-down with little dog and cat faces. What looked like potatoes hung from his ears and clinked into their large circular glasses, tasteful makeup adorned his cheerful face, but not enough to hide the smattering of freckles that covered his cheeks.
“Can I have your number?” the person Roman had most likely just been staring at blurted out. She jolted a bit, shocked by their sudden proclamation. “You seem very cool and I would love to be your friend. You can say no, of course, oh my gosh I’msorryifImadeyouuncom-” the blond hastily corrected, realizing what he had said. However, they were quickly cut off by the taller figure in front of them, “Of course you can have my number! You also seem very cool and I would love it if we could be friends” Roman said excitedly.
Patton grinned and handed her their phone. Roman handed them his phone and looked down at the baby blue case. It seemed that they had a thing for color coordination. Dope, Roman could respect that.
Roman being the gentleperson she of course offered to buy Patton a cup of tea and the pair sat down in a booth striking conversations about everything and nothing all at once.
#sander sides fanfiction#sander sides#Royality#Patton sanders#Roman Sanders#Everything and Nothing#LAMP#demus#ts royality#ts roman#ts patton#tss#my writing#ts lamp#dukeceit
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Ocean Eyes - A Leonard “Bones” McCoy x Reader Fic
Series: Star Trek TOS
Pairings: Leonard “Bones” McCoy x Reader, Implied Spirk
Characters: Reader, Leonard “Bones” McCoy, James T Kirk, Spock, Montgomery Scotty, Nyota Uhura
Trigger Warnings: No triggers apply.
Word Count: 5,202 words
Author’s Note:
This is my first fic! It has a small amount of fluff, but its mainly full of a plot revolving around the two mentioned relationships.
You can also find this fic on Wattpad.
Summary:
Y/N is confused about her feelings for Dr. McCoy. When Spock and Kirk come to know, they devise a fantabulous plan to bring both of them together.
I was lying down on my bed in a darkened room. Thoughts wandered, but always stopped on one thing. Rather, on one person. It’s weird. I had always liked him a lot – platonically, of course. This was different. “What the hell?”, I said out loud. But that didn’t help the storm raging in my mind. My alarm beeped. 1530 hours. “Damn.” I huffed, got changed, and left for the Bridge. My eight-hour shift was about to begin.
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On the bridge
“Captain.”, I said in a confident, but tired voice. “Lieutenant Y/L/N reporting for Beta Shift.”
“Yes, Lieutenant.” Kirk replied without looking towards me. “Please report to Mr. Spock for this shift’s agenda. You will be taking over from him for the Beta shift.”
I walked over to Mr. Spock’s science station. “Commander Spock. Lieutenant Y/L/N reporting.” His head bobbed in a small greeting.
Spock and I had known each other since my academy days when he was my professor for most subjects. He was my role model and mentor, and I wanted to follow in his footsteps. He was also my closest friend on the ship.
After briefing me with the progress he had made on the current star charting assignment and about his inferences on the nearby nebula, Spock walked over to Kirk, and whispered something. Kirk nodded and said, “Please continue with our research assignments. Mr. Sulu, you have the conn. I’ll be in my quarters.”
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Spock’s POV
After filling in Y/N, I walked over to the Captain and quietly said, “Captain, I would like to speak with you.” He nodded, gave his usual orders, and both of us left the bridge for his quarters.
Once in the sanctuary of his quarters, the Captain turned to me, and asked, “What is it, Mr. Spock? You seem concerned.”
I replied in the affirmative, and said, “My concern is for Lieutenant Y/L/N, sir. She seems to be ‘out of her elements’, as would be expressed in Terran colloquial.”
The Captain offered a small, though rueful smile at this. “I agree with you Mr. Spock. She is not one of the outspoken ones, but she does seem a bit… subdued. Perhaps we should ask her what the problem is?”
“Perhaps. Though I have another suggestion sir. We are going to take a short shore leave on Star Base 12 in a few hours. Why not relieve Lieutenant Y/L/N early from her Beta shift so that she can recuperate and make the most out of this shore leave?”
“Yes Mr. Spock. An excellent idea. Anyhow, we take shore leaves only once in a blue moon, so why not allow her to rest a bit before going back out into the dark. I believe we will establish orbit around Star Base 12 by 1800 hours. I myself will relieve her at 1830 hours. Thank you for bringing this to my notice Mr. Spock.”
“My pleasure.”
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A few hours later…
Y/N’s POV
After several attempts to refuse an early shore leave and in complete denial of any need of this favour, I had finally beamed down onto Star Base 12.
Along with Scotty.
You might wonder why I was accompanied by the Chief Engineer. That was because of my resistance to go down. Kirk had asked Scotty to accompany me so that I did not sneak back onto the ship. I sighed inwardly.
Wanting to make the most of this time, I asked Scotty to come along with me to a street market. I loved the vibe of street markets – the dim lights, the muffled voices, walking around – it was the perfect ambience to relax.
“Hey Scotty! Come on!” I turned and called to Scotty, who was dragging his feet like a bored teenager. “Ach lass! I didn’t know that I’d have to babysit ya today. I wanted to go to the bar.” He moaned.
“Okay, okay, Lieutenant Commander Scott. Lieutenant Y/L/N will not hold you for long. Come, roam around with me for a while, and then we’ll both go to the bar.”
His face lit up like that of a child on Christmas morning. After that, there was a certain bounce in his step, not stalling anymore.
While scanning the stalls, I saw a small, wooden stringed instrument which piqued my interest. Picking it up gingerly, I held it in my hands. It felt right.
“Ah lass! What are ya doing with a ukulele?”
“You know the name of this instrument?” The shopkeeper asked, visibly surprised.
“Yes of course! My gran used to play this really well. She got it as an heirloom from her mother, who got it from her mother.”
I strummed the strings of the ukulele tentatively. A beautiful sound, though not very melodious, emerged.
“Can I buy this? It’s beautiful.”
The shopkeeper smiled, “You have really good taste. I can see you play this beautifully. That will be ten credits. If you want, I can teach this to you as well.” Her offer seemed genuine.
“Thank you so much!”
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At the bar
I let an evil grin emerge. Scotty had his head down. I had known his weakness, and now I had the chance to escape.
Well, escape is a strong word, but I had been forced to come down – so it was justified.
I had just drunk a glass of iced tea, not preferring to be hungover the next morning. I had never really liked drinking anyway.
As I was sneaking out of the bar, I saw HIM coming in. My heart immediately jumped into my mouth, beating like crazy. I hid behind the table where an employee was granting entry to the guests. He gave me a weird look but did nothing about me being there.
Once certain that HE was gone, I brushed my clothes, held my head high and started to walk towards the door, when I heard someone call me, and I froze.
“Y/N? Whatcha doin’ here? I thought ya didn’t drink.” The southern drawl rolling smoothly off his tongue.
“H-Hey Doc. Yeah, I don’t drink. I was just giving Scotty some company. I’m going back to my room now.”
“’Kay, great! Have a nice evening.” He sauntered away to where Scotty lay knocked out.
This was getting harder day by day.
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The next morning
I was back in my quarters on the Enterprise. Last night had been great, though I won’t admit this to anyone.
After encountering Bones at the bar, I had gone to the shopkeeper who had sold me the ukulele, and I sat there till late at night, learning the basics. I picked up the chords pretty quickly and was onto my first song by midnight. The street shops were open till 2 in the morning, and the shopkeeper seemed keen on teaching me, so I figured why not learn as much as I could.
She told me she had many copies (yes, actual paper copies!) of songs. She called them scores or sheet music. She gave me all the copies of scores she possessed, and I was so grateful!
Rand smuggled me back onto the ship by manning the transporter. She was going down in a while and didn’t mind disobeying Kirk.
The clock flashed 0800 hours as I was snapped out of my thoughts about the previous night. I wanted to utilize the rest of my shore leave efficiently. I got up, showered, and walked to the replicator. When nothing came out even after swiping the card multiple times, I let a sigh out and decided that I’d have to go to the mess.
I swaggered along the deserted decks and corridors of the ship, making no effort to conceal myself. Most people were down on the planet, including the two I wanted to avoid.
Walking into the mess, I ordered popcorn (weird choice, I know) and sat down. Spock, who had entered the mess just after me, slid into the seat opposite me, both of us falling into a comfortable silence. We often had our breakfast together. I was one of the people closest to Spock.
Putting down the Vulcan equivalent of an apple, Spock looked at me and asked, “How are you Y/N? You seemed extremely sombre yesterday. That is unlike you.”
The corner of my mouth lifted slightly at his concern. “I am fine.” I replied. “I guess the work got to me. Yesterday was a nice break.” So much for not telling anyone, I thought, amused. “I don’t think Kirk thought of relieving me early yesterday. Someone else was behind that move.” I gave a teasing grin. Spock’s eyes crinkled in a semblance of a grin.
Once done with our respective meals, I said, “Come to my quarters tonight, Spock. I’ll tell you about my evening and you can tell me about yours. Maybe I’ll even play you something. Bring your lyre as well. I wanna hear you play it.”
Spock bobbed his head, confirming that he’d be there.
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That evening
I heard knocking at the door. “Come in.” Spock walked in with his Vulcan lyre in hand. I gave him a smile.
Though my quarters were small, I had made enough space for us to sit comfortably, without invading each other’s space. He sat down on the straight backed, cushioned seat which he preferred, and I pulled my desk chair to sit on.
We talked about the events of last night, me reciting everything other than the event when I ran into the Doc (that incident was kept to myself for the time being). Spock told how he had done some work in the science lab, read a book, and practiced playing the lyre (though he didn’t need any).
“You said that you were going to play for me?” It was more a request than a question. “Yeah.”, I replied. “I bought this old Terran stringed instrument called the ukulele yesterday, and the lady who sold it to me taught me how to read sheet music and also helped me play my first song. It’s “Ocean Eyes” by Billie Eilish from 2016. I’ve heard it before. You wanna hear it?”
Spock lifted his eyebrows in classic Spock fashion, essaying his agreement.
I rarely sang, but when I did, it was only in the privacy of my own quarters. Spock had heard me sing, though not very often.
I started strumming, trying to pick the beat from where I had to start the vocal.
I've been watchin' you for some time Can't stop starin' at those ocean eyes Burning cities and napalm skies Fifteen flares inside those ocean eyes Your ocean eyes.
No fair You really know how to make me cry When you gimme those ocean eyes I'm scared I've never fallen fro…
I faltered. Spock nodded, his eyes intently watching, eyebrow perked. I could see something glint in his eyes but didn’t understand what it was. I resumed the strumming.
I've never fallen from quite this high Fallin' into your ocean eyes Those ocean eyes.
I've been walkin' through a world gone blind Can't stop thinkin' of your diamond mind Careful creature made friends with time He left her lonely with a diamond mind And those ocean eyes.
No fair You really know how to make me cry When you gimme those ocean eyes I'm scared I've never fallen from quite this high Fallin' into your ocean eyes Those ocean eyes.
I had been nervous, not because it was my first time playing this song in front of somebody (because I knew Spock would never disregard the importance of beginning, and subsequently growing as a person), but because this song reminded me of a certain someone. If Spock connected the dots, I don’t know what his reaction would be, and whether he would tell McCoy or Jim.
There was silence for a moment. Spock opened his mouth to say something, but then, his communicator beeped. Flipping it open, he said, “Spock here.”
Kirk’s voice cracked through. “Mr. Spock. I request you to please report to my quarters. I have an urgent matter to discuss with you.”
Spock looked at me, that glint still there. I nodded my assent and picked up his lyre from my bed and handed it to him, as he stood from his chair to leave.
I mouthed, “See you later”, and then the door shut.
Lying down on my bed, I decided that it would be best to go to sleep.
But sleep just wouldn’t come.
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Spock’s POV
I had had a nice evening with Y/N, though the lyrics of her song still perplexed me. I was reminded of someone by those lyrics, but I can’t seem to determine whom. My brain was “short-circuiting”, as Jim would say, but I was not able to put a finger on who the song pointed to. I had known Y/N long enough to know that this wasn’t just “nothing”, though that’s what she wanted me to believe.
I didn’t know what to make of Jim’s call either. He had planned to stay ashore for at least 12 more hours, but he now was aboard the ship. Though Jim’s words had been authoritative, his tone was friendly and indicated that this had nothing to do with the ship.
I knocked on the door of Jim’s quarters, and heard a small “Come in”. When I walked in, Jim was seated at his desk, his hands intertwined into a tent. “A ‘deep in thought’ position” I thought.
“Jim. Is something troubling you?” Jim looked up and gestured me to sit down. I complied. “No Spock, nothing is troubling me. It’s just, I think I know now why Y/N has been so quiet.”
I gave him a quizzical look.
“Spock, I believe you were with Y/N when I called you?” I nodded. I couldn’t understand where this was going.
“What were you doing?” One of my eyebrows lifted in confusion. Why was Jim asking that?
“Jim, I don’t think you should ask that. I think, on Earth, this is called snooping. Though you are a good friend of Y/N’s, it is my moral responsibility not to tell you anything about what she told or did in confidence.”
Jim’s eyes expressed the same warmth as his smile when I said that. “True gentleman you are, Mr. Spock. Okay, I’ll tell you why I asked that question.” My eyebrows perched higher, indicating my interest.
“I was going to Y/N’s chamber to admonish her for not following her Captain’s orders.”
My expression moved from interested to inquiring.
“I had ordered Y/N to stay on the planet for the entirety of the shore leave. However, when I went to her room at the lodging, she wasn’t there. She had told McCoy that she would be in her room. I knew where she would be – in her quarters, aboard the Enterprise. I walked to her quarters, mock-fuming, and was about to knock, when I heard her start singing.”
I opened my mouth to rebuke Jim for eavesdropping, when he interrupted, “I know Spock, but I had no intention to eavesdrop. I was just drawn to her voice and that song. I love that song.”
“Ocean Eyes by Billie Eilish?”
“Yeah, that one. I was surprised that you didn’t hear me standing outside, what with your enhanced hearing.”
I paused for a moment before I spoke, staring past Jim’s shoulder, my eyes resting on his laurels. “I had been thinking about something.”
______________________________________________________________
Jim’s POV
Spock had apparently zoned out. That was a first.
“I think I can guess what you were thinking about.”
Spock’s eyebrows flew up. “Do you?” he enquired.
“Yes Spock, I think I do. And I think you do too, now. You have arrived at a conclusion, and I would like you to share it with me.”
Spock seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then turned to face me. “I think this has something to do with Dr. McCoy.” My smile turned into a grin. Spock was REALLY smart with this stuff for a person who swore by logic. Spock took this as a confirmation that he was correct.
“I assume I am correct. However, I do not fully understand.”, he remarked.
“My dear Spock, I was surprised that you inferred this much.” If Spock’s brows could go higher, they would have. “It is my hypothesis that Y/N likes Dr. McCoy, but she is in denial.” Spock’s face expressed a mixture of distaste and bewilderment. I chuckled.
“I have known Y/N since our academy days. She is slightly younger than me, but she was always a prodigy. Always top of the class. Not just with marks or grades, but with her work ethic as well. She has never been in a relationship; she never felt the need to be in one. Now, she reminds me a lot of someone I know. Maybe that’s why both of them are such good friends.” I looked at Spock. His face radiated a hint of pride.
I continued. “And now, she is faced by this overwhelming feeling, one I doubt she ever felt before. And she is uncertain, how to act on this feeling, or whether to act at all.”
Realization dawned on Spock’s visage. Then, it was replaced by dubiousness and even a hint of distaste. “But why Dr. McCoy?” he asked. I let out a hearty laugh. Everyone knew of the friendly banter between him and McCoy.
“No Jim, I am serious. I care for Y/N deeply, though not in a romantic sense. If the doctor did anything to hurt her, I would disapprove.”
By “disapprove” I knew Spock would go on a killing spree. And the first would be Bones. I grinned inwardly. This was starting to get interesting, and I now had a chance to tease Spock.
“Isn’t disapproval a human emotion?” I tried (and failed) to keep the smirk off my face.
Spock looked at me dead in the eyes. My stomach suddenly became a bottomless pit. With an intense gaze, he whispered, “Yes.”
______________________________________________________________
Bones’ POV
I was on my way to the Transporter Room when Uhura said that she had a message from Joanna. Her messages really made my day. I asked her to transfer the message to the intercom in the Transporter Room.
I walked into the transporter room, which seemed to be deserted. “Never mind”, I thought. I would have preferred to listen to the message alone, so I didn’t mind. I switched on the intercom and confirmed that I had reached the Transporter Room.
Immediately, Joanna’s message started playing.
“Hey Papa!”, her sweet voice chirped. I smiled. “I was a few light years away from Earth, so decided that why not spend my holiday on our home planet. I went to Georgia and checked on our house and the farm. Everything is in place. I am off to India to spend a week or two. I have a month before I join the Farragut as their nurse trainee. I am really excited! Tell me if the Enterprise’s schedule matches with the Farragut’s, so that we can meet soon. Love you and meet you soon!”
“Wow”, I breathed. “What an exciting young lady.” I thanked Uhura, and then typed up my message on my PADD and sent it to her. I still like sending her emails, though they were considered ancient. “Hmm.” I hummed. “Forever the sensualist.”
______________________________________________________________
Later that evening
I was trying to find the bar where Scotty had asked me to join him, when I caught a glimpse of Y/N coming out of a bar. I had heard that she had been accompanied by Scotty onto the surface, so I started walking towards her. I heard some laughter and turned to look in the direction of the commotion. Seeing nothing of significance, I faced again towards my destination, searching for Y/N, but she had disappeared. “Weird”, I mumbled.
I stepped into the foyer and was about to enter the bar when I turned around, wondering where Y/N had gone. And there she was! I called out her name and made small talk. Then we both went our separate ways.
I spotted Scotty and hurried towards his seat. “Got started without me, huh?”, I teased. Scotty, who had had is head down, lifted it and slurred, “Why are yer cheeks red, eh McCoy? Had a swig on the ship, huh?” I knitted my eyebrows together. I hadn’t been drinking. I dismissed it to be the cold.
______________________________________________________________
A few hours later
A blinding light flashed in my eyes. “Who’s it? What’re you doin’?” I caught a glimpse of a blue shirt. It reminded me of someone.
“Y/N?”
“Bones why do you have to drink so much? You always get hungover and start hallucinating. Then I have to take care of you. Dammit, I’m a Starship captain, not a doctor.”
“Ah Jimmy boy. Take me home now, will ya?”
______________________________________________________________
The next morning
I woke up with a splitting headache. When I opened my eyes and looked around that I realized I was not in my quarters. Hell, I wasn’t even on the Enterprise.
“Shit.” I cursed softly.
“Finally, you are up, huh? I really think you could’ve given Sleeping Beauty a run for the money.”
I huffed. I knew that voice well. Maybe too well. And I knew what that meant. “I’m sorry Jim. Just got flown away with the drinking last night. I don’t even remember you picking me up.”
“I think we should stop booking an extra room for you. You always end up crashing in mine during shore leaves.”, Jim remarked sarcastically, getting up from the reading chair and putting down his PADD.
“Drink this. You’ll feel better.” He handed me a glass of lemonade.
“What, you’re gonna use my own hacks against me?”
“Shut up and drink it.”
I accepted the glass and started taking sips from it.
“You know, you said something last night which made me think a lot.”
“Well, that’s new.” I remarked with a smirk.
Jim feigned annoyance, then continued. “You know, when I came to pick you up last night, I was wearing a blue shirt.”
“Mh-hm”
“And when you saw me, you said, ‘Y/N?’. Were you expecting her or something?”
“Hmm. I don’t remember saying that actually. Maybe that was because I saw her last night before going into the bar. She was hiding from somebody, I guess. And I was surprised to even see her at a bar – she doesn’t drink, you know.”
Jim nodded. “Do you know where she went?”
“She said she was going to her room.” I said, matter-of-factly.
“’Kay.”
______________________________________________________________
That evening
Jim had left for the Enterprise – he had some work onboard. I decided that I’d roam around the markets for a while. I never was a fan of shopping, but Christine always asked me to take small memorabilia from each planet I visited for Joanna. She seemed to like it – so I didn’t mind too much.
Hands tucked behind my back, I strolled through the stalls. I came across a shop selling ancient art prints. There were abstract paintings, movie poster recreations and the like. I picked up a print of warm toned abstract art and a recreation of the Titanic poster for Joanna. Suddenly, a small necklace and bracelet caught my eye. It didn’t seem to have any lustre, but it had an aura that I was drawn to. Entranced, I asked what it was.
“It is Vokaya – a rare Vulcan jewel.” The shopkeeper said. He was Vulcan as well. So much for being in a green-hobgoblin-free zone. But really, I was mesmerised by this ornament, and ended up buying it.
Walking back to my room, I huffed. I had never been an impulsive buyer. Thinking about the peculiar feeling that had filled me, I walked down the corridor and entered my room.
And collided with someone standing straight like a rod.
I groaned. I knew who this was.
______________________________________________________________
Y/N’s POV
The next morning
I finally got out of my bed – I had barely gotten any sleep. I kept tossing and turning, thinking about my encounter with Bones last night and Spock’s reaction to me singing that song. He must have figured it out by now.
“Well – how bad can the situation get?” I murmured.
Before I could go into the washroom to get ready for the day, I heard a knock on the door.
“Come in.”
In stormed Jim Kirk – his expression unreadable.
“Captain? What happened? Is everything alright?”
“Jim, please; I’m off duty.” Sitting down on the chair where Spock had sat last night, he said, “Calm down Y/N. Nothing’s wrong. Can’t a friend come to talk to another friend when everyone else is on shore leave?” He flashed that “I am charming” smile. I rolled my eyes.
“Sit down Jim. Let me get dressed. Then we can have breakfast together in the mess.”
Jim shook his head. “I think we should eat in my quarters.”
That was new. Why did Jim want to have breakfast alone? “Okay…” I said, sounding hesitant.
Jim gave me a smile, a genuine one. “Don’t worry, Y/N. Really. It’s nothing.”
Knowing Jim for so many years had made one thing clear:
When he said, “It’s nothing.”, there really WAS something.
______________________________________________________________
Jim’s POV
When I entered Y/N’s quarters, she looked a mess. She had always been an extremely graceful and likeable person – after all, we both were nerds. But today, there was something off. She had eyebags beneath her eyes, and her tired demeanour indicated that she hadn’t gotten much sleep.
But I could not bail out on Spock’s plan. So, it would have to do.
Spock had come up with something which was very unlike Spock – but the man never failed to surprise me. We had done what we had to do with McCoy. It hadn’t been easy, because he would not sleep at night, and kept protesting when he woke up. But we had managed.
He was in his quarters, unaware what was happening. We had brought him aboard forcefully. He won’t sit there for long. We had to hurry.
“Hey, Jim. Let’s go.”
I snapped my head in the direction of the voice.
“After you”
As the door slid open, a small voice came through.
“I am sorry Y/N.”
And then, Y/N slumped unconscious.
______________________________________________________________
A few hours later
Bones POV
Spock and Jim had been acting weird. Like, they have always been slightly off their hooks, but today, there was an air of urgency about them.
That is extremely discomforting with Spock, because usually he is the patient one preventing Jim from running around like a headless chicken.
I was pacing around my quarters. I had been asked to stay inside until called. “Captain’s orders.”, Jim had said.
I huffed. Did he really think I was going to listen to him? It had been a while since they had left, and I decided to get some work done.
Before I could decide what was the agenda for today, my intercom whistled. “McCoy here.”
“Uhura here.” Her voice was strained. “Doctor, please hurry to the Bridge. There is an emergency. Y/N has fainted.” Cursing under my breath, I picked up my medical kit and rushed out of the door.
The doors of the turbolift slid open and I walked out, worried what had happened. I looked around but there was no one. Perplexed, I scanned the bridge for any signs of hastened evacuation. My eyes landed on a head poking from the Captain’s chair.
I walked to the chair and turned it around. Y/N was slumped unconscious in it. I took her pulse, but it was really faint. I took out a hypo and filled it with cordrazine. This was risky material, but it would wake Y/N up for sure. The hypo hissed as it pressed it into her forearm, and she stirred.
______________________________________________________________
Y/N’s POV
My head was throbbing. My eyes fluttered, but they won’t open. “Too bright”, I mumbled. Someone standing next to me said, “Computer, dim the lights.” The voice mumbled something, then stopped. My eyes opened, and then focussed on the person kneeling beside me. “Doctor?” I said, voice cracking.
“Yeah Y/N. What happened? Why did you faint? Why are you sitting in the Captain’s chair? Do you remember anything?”
I looked around, a bewildered look covering my face. I didn’t remember coming to the bridge. “I don’t know Doc… I don’t even remember coming to the bridge…” McCoy got up quickly and started examining me with his tricorder.
“No signs of mental trauma. Are you sure you don’t remember coming here?” I nodded. Looking around, I now noticed that the lighting was pinkish. “Hey Doc… why is the lighting here pink?” I failed to keep the smile off my face.
He chuckled. “I don’t know. When you woke up, I ordered the computer to dim the lights. It did, but the lights also became pink.”
Suddenly, it hit me. “Oh my God. I just remembered. This has something to do with Jim. And Spock. Jim had come to my quarters to invite me for breakfast. When I was about to walk out, somebody said, ‘I am sorry Y/N.’, and then I fainted.”
McCoy’s eyes had grown wide. He seemed angry. “Come on. Let’s find the two devils.”
I tried getting up but stumbled. McCoy held my forearm and held me up. Then he stopped. “Y/N. There’s a piece of paper stuck to your back.” Confused, I asked him to remove it. “It won’t come off.”
“What does it say?”
“Um… It says, ‘I’ve been watching you for some time; Can’t stop staring at those ocean eyes.’”
I froze. I turned around to face McCoy and opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out.
I couldn’t decipher the expression on his face, but I could see the gears turning in his mind. Would he be angry? Or upset? I half expected him to just shrug and walk away, when surprisingly he held my hand and kissed it.
I tilted my head like a confused squirrel, giving him a look of *almost* disbelief.
He chuckled, “Yeah I get it now. But before we get all sweet, I really wanna hunt down both the red-blooded and the green-blooded devils. They are not going to get away with this.”
I looked into his eyes, for the first time today.
And I felt myself sinking deep into the ocean of his eyes.
______________________________________________________________
Epilogue
Spock’s POV
We had watched the events on the bridge as they took place trough the security cameras. By we, I mean Jim, I and Uhura.
Uhura was laughing so hard that she was on the verge of choking. Jim was bursting with laughter and happiness, his cheeks red. The sight made me want to smile broadly.
“Oh my God Spock, you really are a genius. This was the cleverest shipping of two people ever!”
I tilted my head, asking him what “shipping” meant.
“Never mind. Let’s go now. Otherwise, Bones will hypo the lives out of us. And Y/N adding to the party is not going to be beneficial.”
He gripped my hand and lead the way, running through the corridors of our beloved ship.
And I didn’t mind being by his side one bit.
#leonard mccoy#bones mccoy#spock#jim kirk#james t kirk#tos#star trek#st:tos#nyota uhura#uhura#bones x reader#implied spirk#jim x spock
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notable moments from The Homecoming Job
leverage 1.02
Dr. LeRoque: Pardon me, Mr. uh?
Nate: Oh, uh, Nathan Ford. You’re Dr. LeRoque?
Dr. LeRoque: Can I talk to you outside?
Perry: Doc, he’s cool, I found him on the internet.
Dr. LeRoque: Yes, that never goes badly. (to Nate) With me.
Nate: Uh… I’ll be in touch.
(Perry hands him the flash drive and Nate follows the doctor out of the room)
okay but big mood “I found him on the Internet” “that never goes badly”
but also,,, bruh we NEED to know how their clients found them,,, like ??? H O W
- - - - -
Dr. LeRoque: You can’t just come in here and get his hopes up!
Nate: I’m just here to provide options.
Dr. LeRoque: There are no options.
Nate: The Veteran’s hospital …
Dr. LeRoque: Is 400 miles away and has a five month waiting list. Everybody in that rehab room is a reservist. When reservists get out they get sent home no matter where home is or how far it is from the treatment they need. Nobody thought this through. We’re not a rich hospital, I cashed in every favor I had to take care of these kids for as long as I could but I have to go back in there and tell Perry we can’t treat him anymore. I have to do that. Run your scam on somebody with money.
Nate: It’s not a scam. I’m here to help.
Dr. LeRoque: People don’t just show up to help. That’s not the way the world works.
leverage really called out the us government’s negligence and neglect for veterans in episode TWO and we stan them so hard for it
leverage said “go big or go home” from the VERY beginning
- - - - -
[Audition Room]
Sophie: Why? Why? I can’t live like this anymore. With the lies and the filth. No. Help me. I want to be clean. I want to be clean.
(two directors watching are overwhelmed by just how awful Sophie is)
Rogers: Yeah, you understand this is a soap commercial, right?
Sophie: Uh huh. When I thought about Peggy I came up with this idea that the dirt was really this giant metaphor, for sin.
(Sophie’s cell rings, she glances at her purse)
Rogers: You should take that. No, no you should take that.
Sophie: Oh. (answers phone) Hello? When? (hangs up) Peggy killed her first husband.
Rogers: Thank you
I literally scream every time I LOVE SOPHIE S O MUCH WHAT THE FUCK
- - - - -
[Parking Lot]
(one man is laying on the hood of a car and another falls on top of him. Eliot turns away from the car as the last man pulls a gun on him. They stare at each other for a moment, then a phone rings)
Eliot: That you or me?
(man seems unsure as the phone continues to ring)
Eliot: Could be important. Does your mama have your number?
(man looks down and Eliot grabs the gun, punching the man in the neck. The man goes down, choking. Eliot unloads the gun and tosses it away before pulling out his phone and answering it)
Eliot: Yeah? Nothing, why?
“nothing”? I’m-
- - - - -
(guard walks by a painting hanging in a museum gallery. He looks away for a moment, and when he looks back a rope is dangling where the painting had been. A cell phone rings)
Parker: Parker. Shh. No, I wasn’t shushing you.
I love her, your honor
- - - - -
(Parker, Eliot and Sophie come around the corner and head down the hall)
Parker: From the first job?
Eliot: Yeah.
Parker: I put all that money in a Swiss bank account.
Eliot: Millions of dollars and you didn’t buy anything?
Parker: I don’t like stuff, I like money.
Sophie: I bought a little retirement home, an island.
Eliot: Nice.
Sophie: In Dubai. And Tokyo.
Parker: What about you?
(they reach the door which has a small envelope with Sophie’s name written on it. Sophie takes it off the door and opens it)
Eliot: Yeah, I’m not about to tell two known thieves what I did with a multi-million dollar payout.
Sophie: Don’t you trust us?
(Eliot doesn’t answer.)
- - - - -
Hardison: This is our new cover story. Welcome to Leverage Consulting and Associates, founded in 1913 by the great Harland Leverage the Third.
(Hardison points to a painting on the wall of an older man that greatly resembles Nate)
Sophie: I’m sorry. Nate is going to kill you.
Eliot: Did you paint that?
Hardison: I’m gifted.
Eliot: That’s weird
HARLAND LEVERAGE THE THIRD
- - - - -
Hardison: Now Leverage Consulting Inc. is squeaky clean, all corporate taxes on record as being paid for the last ninety years. (He gives them each a cell and a folder) All your identities as partners, your payroll taxes are paid, you guys have pension plans and dental, those are employment records, case files and company newsletters.
(the group walks the halls of the Leverage offices as they discuss the files)
Parker: In 1998 I won the sack race at the 4th of July picnic. Cool.
Hardison: Now these, these are your offices. Now you can bring something like a photo, you know what, a plant! I’m a big supporter of dandelions.
hardison goes hardcore when coming up with backstories
- - - - -
(Hardison opens doors to a conference room that holds a long table with many chairs around it. One wall is dedicated to large TV screens)
Sophie: Nice.
Eliot: My man.
Hardison: Long version or the short version?
Sophie: Short.
Eliot: Short version.
Parker: Shortest.
(Hardison hits a remote the TV screens illustrate his explanation)
Hardison: Photo and video forensics programs, back doors into every electronic banking system in the world, running heuristic data crawls all over the news sites to find our clients, oh also!
Parker: This is the short version?
Hardison: Facial recognition database tied into CIA, NSA and the FBI. But, the real pièce de résistance (changes screens to sports games) DirectTV HD Total Sports Package. NFL, NBA and I threw in a little bit of hockey ‘cause I know you people like that.
Eliot: Hockey.
hardison nests SO HARD
like, bring in all the highest tech into your cozy new office you designed for you and your fellow adopted criminals? heck yeah
- - - - -
Nate: Our client is the cameraman. Corporal Robert Perry. He says that the Castleman contractors spooked and started firing.
Eliot: 5.56 NATO rounds mixed in with some 9 mils from the sub-machine guns. Insurgents would have used AK-47s with 7.62 ammo. It has more of a... (hits the back of his hand to his palm) crack. Contractors shot 'em up all right.
Parker: You ID’d the weapon from the gunshot sound?
Eliot: It has a very distinctive sound
D I S T I N C T I V E
- - - - -
Nate: Yes, and lobbyists in every office in Washington, DC. The problem with a cover-up is all the paperwork it takes to keep the lies straight.
Hardison: Internal emails, memos.
Nate: Exactly.
- - - - -
[Roof]
[Hardison and Parker are wearing black and connected to repelling gear)
Hardison: I gotta go back to the office I just remembered something.
Parker (adjusting Hardison’s harness): What?
Hardison: I just remembered gravity and the squishiness of all my manly bits.
Parker: I designed this rig myself. The line is carbon fiber. Five point harness. Weight support here, here, and here. Auto-breaking resistance on the main pulley back here.
Hardison: Okay cool, so it’s tested?
Parker: Not yet.
Hardison: Not yet? When the hell was you gonna test it?
(Parker pushes Hardison off the roof. She smiles, he screams)
Parker: Big baby.
(she jumps after him. Hardison screams until he stops upside down. Parker lowers herself to his side)
Hardison: Seriously? Seriously
hardison’s first time rappelling decidedly Did Not Go Well
- - - - -
Sophie: My company’s focused on meeting senators, but I’m thinking congressmen.
DuFort: You know the great thing about congressmen? Fifty, a hundred grand well spent will get one elected, but then once they’re in the incumbency rate is over 95 percent so you can get an average 18, 20 years’ use out of one of them. In these uncertain times buying a United States congressman is one of the best investments a corporation can make.
[DuFort’s Office]
Hardison: Oh I just threw up in my mouth a little bit. I’m a professional criminal and I find that disturbing
they’re going at america’s THROAT in this one and I love it. thank you john rogers
- - - - -
(while DuFort is distracted Sophie pulls out his wallet and removes the RFID card with her teeth. DuFort takes off his coat to look at the stain)
I am but a simple gay and this was Hot™
- - - - -
the phones hardison gave the team have six main buttons: internet, text, files, to-do, id scan, and mail
- - - - -
Nate: Parker, what’s the status of the voicelock?
[DuFort’s Office]
Parker: Uh, I’ve been sampling DuFort’s speech but I still need a few more sounds.
[Private Party]
Nate: How many?
[DuFort’s Office]
Parker: Well I only need the sounds puh, tuh, oo, ah, eh, oh, ah, ke, a, ef.
[Private Party]
Nate: Ah, only those. Eliot.
(Eliot walks by carrying two trays of appetizers)
Eliot: I’m on it. Pardon. (approaches Sophie and DuFort) Hello.
Sophie: Ooh. Mmm.
Eliot: (to DuFort) Appetizer, sir?
DuFort: Sure, what do you got?
Eliot: I’ve got the pâté d’escargot avec bière d'Argentine and (looks at second tray and grimaces) what looks like old duck, kind of greasy.
DuFort: I guess I’ll have the first one.
Eliot: Of course.
(Eliot offers him the second tray and Dufort looks at him expectantly)
DuFort: Well? May I have some?
Eliot: The greasy duck?
Sophie: Oh, no, no, no, I wouldn’t have the greasy duck.
Eliot: No I wouldn’t suggest it.
DuFort: No, the other one.
(Eliot pretends confusion)
DuFort: The the pâté d’escargot with the bière d'Argentine!
Eliot: Excellent choice sir (gives DuFort the first tray).
DuFort: (takes food) Who is this clown?
[DuFort’s Office]
Parker: Pretty good. Got most of them. Okay, now all I need is ef, uh and kuh.
[Private Party]
(DuFort spits out the appetizer he has taken)
DuFort: This is shrimp!
Eliot: Very good then. (walks away)
DuFort: It’s shrimp you stupid F----!
[DuFort’s Office]
Parker: Oh, there they are. Really loud too
parker being so competent and knowledgeable about voice activation codes? amazing. iconic.
and the whole scene with eliot and the food? hilarious.
also there already another meta post about this but this scene shows just how SMART eliot is,,, like coming up with that on spot??? don’t get me wrong, hardison is “the smartest man [any of them know]” but damn
- - - - -
continuing list of non-weapon objects eliot uses as weapons:
an IV stand
+ bonus
nate: the defibrillator/AED
- - - - -
Perry: Mr. Ford!
(Perry pushes a defibrillator towards Nate, who grabs the paddles. The first man runs toward Eliot with a knife, but Eliot grabs his arm and pushes him toward Nate)
Nate: Hello.
(Nate hits the man in the chest with the defibrillator paddles and he flies backward, unconscious)
eliot looking Impressed™ at nate for that
- - - - -
Eliot: Play time’s over Nate, it’s only a matter of time before they come after us. The tall one, the way he used a knife, ex-Marine, probably Force Recon.
Hardison: You ID’d a guy off his knife-fighting style?
Eliot: It’s a very distinctive style.
two distinctives in one episode
- - - - -
Hardison: I didn’t sign up for any of this. What I did before, nobody got hurt.
Sophie: I stole paintings for a living.
Parker: I never hurt anybody.
Eliot: I actually hurt people, so…
LMFAO eliot but also- notice that sophie never said that she never hurt people, she just said she stole paintings for a living
- - - - -
Sophie: Nate, if anything had happened to this kid--
Nate: You know you guys called on me. You remember? You begged me to run the crew, agreed to play by my rules. Now walk out if you have a problem with that. Walk out any day if you have a problem with that. It’s simple.
(everyone looks hesitant)
Eliot: We finish this one.
Parker: Just one
PSH like any of y’all believe that
- - - - -
Hardison: How do we hit ‘em?
Sophie: Congressman Jenkins, he’s our in. Looked me straight in the eye and told me he’d never even heard of the shooting.
Parker: So?
Sophie: Looked me in the eye? When men are telling me the truth they’re not looking me in the eye. A man only ever looks a woman in the eye when he’s making the effort to lie to her.
Eliot: ...Well you can’t argue with that.
Hardison: Noted and filed
LMFAO
- - - - -
Nate: All right, Jenkins is DuFort’s pet congressman, let’s see if we can get him to bite. The best way to get two people to reveal a secret, get ‘em to turn on each other.
- - - - -
Sophie: You should look out for the signs congressman. Missed phone calls, no more little favors.
Jenkins: Those are the same signs that your wife is cheating on you.
Sophie: That’s right.
Jenkins: What am I supposed to do when that happens?
Sophie (hands him her card): Play the field
- - - - -
Hardison: Congressman Jenkins is very careful. No direct bribes but he’s renovating his house and so far he’s received over $600,000 worth of work for a little over fifty grand.
(Hardison brings up pictures of Jenkins’ house on the screens)
Eliot: Castleman owns the contracting company, huh?
Hardison: I mean, he’s going through like three shell companies but yeah. And this man loves his house. Just check out his web browsing habits.
(Hardison changes the image to a website for wood panels)
Hardison: Look here, see the man spent three weeks picking out the perfect mahogany wood panels. This site is like wood porn.
Eliot: Is his house finished?
Hardison: Not even close.
Eliot: Can I borrow your phone?
Hardison takes out his phone, dials for Eliot and hands it to him.
Eliot (on phone): Hello? Yes, I’d like to cancel delivery on some mahogany wood paneling. Please.
(Hardison tries to help, Eliot walks away)
Eliot: The Jenkins house. Yeah, you know what, do me a favor man, just go ahead and cancel the whole order. Yes sir.
(Eliot leaves the room as Nate enters with a bowl of popcorn and two beers)
Nate: What’s he doing?
Hardison: Yanking the congressman’s chain
I love chaotic (pre)boyfriends
plus at one point it high hey looked like they were holding hands
and eliot’s SMILE at hardison ,,, you soft man, you never stood a chance
- - - - -
Hardison: A woo--whoa, whoa! A wood-- a wooden box?
Nate: A wooden box.
Hardison: Wood? Well, we can put a man on the moon but all our laws go into a wooden box.
- - - - -
Hardison: I mean, break a law, everybody’s done that, my mama’s done that but steal a law. Oh, she’s gonna be a legend baby.
(on screen, C-SPAN news shows the Senate floor where Parker is walking to “The Hopper”. She waves at the camera and puts the fake bill into box.
Parker: The eagle has landed.
Nate: It’s in!
Hardison: Uhn! Go ahead girl! Sexyness! Unh. Rrrnnn.
Nate: Might want to ease up on that a little bit.
Hardison: Just saying.
Nate: Yeah.
Hardison: Between me and you. Between me and you.
Nate: Never leaves the room.
adorable “the eagle has landed” parker + already-gone-for-her hardison ,,, I love it here
- - - - -
(also, again I am reminded that there is a 250 text block limit so imma have to make a part two and apparently this is my life now)
#leverage#leverage 1.02#leverage 1x02#the homecoming job#notable moments#mine#leverage season 1#season 1
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Soul to Souls - Fourteen
Warnings: Doctor’s visit, a bit of domestic fluff, angst, loss, grief, overprotective!Dean, sex (fem receiving oral, p in v), cliffhanger
This chapter may contain content that could be triggering to some readers - please see the chapter tags.
Summary: Since she was four years old, Annaleigh has seen the same boy in her dreams. For twenty-five years, she grows to love the boy that has now turned into a man. Dean Winchester just lost the only family he has ever known. The guilt drives him to work harder than ever before. He works to forget the pain, until he meets Annaleigh and she turns his world upside down. What she learns changes both of their lives forever, but what will he do when he discovers the truth? Will he accept it or run back to the only life he has ever known?
Pairing: Dean x OC Annaleigh
Word Count: 3950 (a long one, I KNOW!)
Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches, @katehuntington, thank you both for being my guides! Dividers and cover art by the amazingly talented @talesmaniac89.
A/N: This was my very first series I ever wrote four years ago in September 2016 and I am so happy and proud to bring this back home. Thank you to everyone that is enjoying the story so far. There is so much more to come!
Like Dean’s scent? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker!
Soul to Souls Master List
“Wait...what? Excuse me? Did you say ‘babies’? As in plural?” Anna looked from the doctor to Dean and back again with a look of shock on her face. Anna had seen the visions of their twins, but it still took her by surprise to discover it was actually happening, inside of her.
“Well, yes,” Dr. Ryan chuckled lightly. “Here we have Baby A on the left. And right here, we have Baby B, but if you look closer you can see Baby C nestled on the right. Baby B seems to be measuring smaller than it’s siblings, but I assure you that is completely normal for multiple births. Congratulations, Mom and Dad; you’re having triplets! But, they are not identical. I see three separate sacs. All that means is that your babies will be fraternal triplets.” She moved the wand again and they could hear the second heartbeat, followed by the third.
Anna turned her face towards Dean and saw a single tear fall from his eye. He stood up from his chair and grabbed her face firmly with both hands kissing her full on the mouth right in front of the doctor. “I love you, Red,” he whispered against her lips.
“I love you, too, Dean,” she echoed. What about the vision I saw? I only saw two babies, not three. What does this mean? She quickly threw up a silent prayer to God, hoping He would answer this time.
“Okay, you two. I am showing gestation at seven weeks and 3 days. Does that sound about right? That gives us a due date of May 3. Spring babies!” Dr. Ryan proclaimed as she wheeled the machine away. “I am going to let you two have a few minutes. Get cleaned up and dressed and the nurse will be back with some information for you to take home.” She patted Dean gently on the back as she left the room.
Anna reached for the towel to start cleaning the gel from her belly, but Dean beat her to it. For a rough and tumble hunter, she already knew him to be surprisingly tender and gentle. He reached for her clothes as Anna removed the robe, turning to place it back on the table. She quickly put on her underpants and jeans and grabbed her shirt, pulling it over her head. She felt Dean’s arms wrap around her from behind, and he placed his hands over her belly.
“You are gonna be an amazing mom, Red. I can’t wait to see you growing with our babies, and I can’t wait to meet them. They are going to be so in love with you, just like I am. ” Dean sniffed, placing his chin on her shoulder.
Turning in his arms, she saw his eyes well up. “Babe, please don’t cry.”
“You know, my entire life, I’ve only experienced pain, and loss, and then you came along. I think these are the first happy tears I’ve ever cried,” he admitted. “I’m the luckiest man in the whole world.
“Dean, I’m already the luckiest girl in the whole world. I have you. Now we have three babies on the way. It couldn’t get any better than this.” She leaned her head into his and they just stood there in their own little world until the knock at the door brought them back.
A few weeks after that first appointment, Dean made the decision to give up hunting, and only provide research and support for other hunters now. He had started picking up shifts at the garage in town so he could be home for Annaleigh during the pregnancy, and their children once they were born. The decision had all but solidified for Dean the minute she took the first test back in Sioux Falls.
Dean had always had overprotective tendencies when it came to his family, especially his brother, but now he had gone all mother hen on his girlfriend. He made sure she ate right, took all her vitamins, and he even enrolled her in a prenatal yoga class.
With Dean being home every night, they fell into a very domestic routine. They were always cooking and cleaning, and the sex couldn’t have been more amazing. Annaleigh was exhausted most of the time, but the doctor said that was normal.
A few weeks later, Dean left for the garage earlier than usual. Anna took her time getting out of bed and ready, throwing on a pair of light blue leggings and a navy sweater, quickly coming to the realization that carrying triplets meant her figure was growing faster than she could have imagined and nothing really fit anymore. She really needed to get some maternity clothes, sooner rather than later.
Anna was walking to her studio for her first appointment of the day with Alyssa, who had pulled a few muscles in her back during some...extracurricular activity. Since she was a close friend, Anna didn’t mind opening a little earlier for her. Alyssa was just getting out of her car as Anna unlocked the door. Anna set her keys down and was suddenly overtaken with an excruciating pain that felt as if she were being split in half.
She dropped to her knees in the small kitchenette just as Alyssa walked through the open door. “Annaleigh?! What happened?” She was on her knees next to her in an instant.
“I don’t know...a cramp, maybe?” Anna whimpered as another one ran through her middle. She rolled to her side and clutched her abdomen and heard Alyssa gasp.
“Anna, don’t move okay? I am calling for an ambulance, then I am calling Dean.” Alyssa’s voice was shaking and Anna knew there was something terribly wrong; she could feel it.
“Alyssa, what aren’t you telling me?” Anna asked, fear now evident in her voice.
“Honey, you’re bleeding.” Alyssa was crying as she placed the calls, holding tight to her friend’s hand.
Doctor Ryan was all the things a good physician should be in a situation such as this; she was kind and empathetic, but Anna could tell immediately it was not going to be good news as her doctor walked into the hospital room. Dean was seated next to her on the bed, and she reached for his hand the minute they saw her face.
“Annaleigh, Dean, I am so sorry; one of your fetuses has spontaneously aborted,” Doctor Ryan began with a tear in her eye.
“Doc, what does that mean?” Dean practically whispered, squeezing Annaleigh’s hand.
“It means that one of your babies has died. At your first ultrasound, I mentioned that one of the babies was smaller than the other two. They were growing much faster and Baby B just didn’t have enough room to grow and thrive. I know it doesn’t help, but that can happen with multiples. I am so sorry, I should have warned you of the possibility.
“In spite of your loss, the other two are doing extremely well, maybe even because of it. That being said, I am putting you on bed rest for a couple of weeks as a precaution and have you come back then for a follow up,” she explained before apologizing once more. She slipped out of the room, giving the grieving parents time alone.
Annaleigh felt Dean’s grip tighten on her hand, and she could feel his eyes on her. She lifted her head and met his eyes, tears falling freely. Anna released his hand and reached out for him with both arms, scooting over in the small bed. Dean’s large frame dwarfed hers as they clung to each other, grieving the loss of a child they hadn’t even known, but couldn’t have loved any less.
Carding her hand through his hair, she felt him rubbing small circles on her swollen middle as sobs left him. They comforted one another the best they could through their own pain. Thinking back to the visions she had seen, the loss of this child explained why Anna only saw two babies. Perhaps Dr. Ryan was right; maybe the loss of one child meant the survival of the other two.
Annaleigh was released from the hospital a couple of hours later with strict instructions to take it easy for the next two weeks until her follow up appointment. No working, no lifting, no chores of any kind. If she thought Dean couldn’t get more overprotective, she was terribly mistaken.
After they returned home and Anna fell asleep on the couch, Dean went to the grocery store. With a full refrigerator and cupboards, he meal prepped for the entire week while she slept. Less time in the kitchen meant more time with her after work.
He made arrangements for all her friends to come check on her throughout the day so that she never needed to be alone. While she was grateful for her friends coming by regularly, even if it was at Dean’s insistence, there came a point when she just wanted to be alone. Everyone had a breaking point and by the end of the first week, Annaleigh hit hers.
“Stop!” The shout pierced the otherwise peaceful evening Dean had planned.
Wide eyed and slightly taken aback, Dean gaped at her.
“Dean, I’m sorry. I love you and I appreciate you taking care of me, but stop,” Anna sighed heavily, tears filling her brilliant blue eyes. “I cannot take any more of your smothering!”
“Red, I’m sor-.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just stop. I’m not cold, I’m not hungry. I’m not a child and I don’t need babysitting! All I want is to be alone! Stop scheduling my friends to spend time with me, they have lives and jobs, and don’t need to be here all fucking day!”
“I’m just trying to take care of you the best I know how,” Dean stiffened, his voice cracking. He stood from the couch and headed for the stairs.
“Where are you going?” she demanded.
“You said you wanted to be alone, so I’m honoring your request and going to bed, in the guest room, so you can have some space from me,” Dean sniffed, not even turning to face her.
“Dean, baby, stop please and look at me,” she pleaded, urging him to turn around.
Steeling himself against the flood of emotions coming from both of them, Dean slowly turned to face her, wiping a hand down his face in an effort to clear the tears that he had shed in his failure to make her feel safe.
“I’m sorry for being ungrateful, please come sit with me,” she started. Once he returned to the sofa, she snuggled up to him. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. I’m feeling frustrated because I can’t do anything, and I just need to be by myself sometimes. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you, but I need you to stop with all your worrying, and just be with me.”
“Red, I am here with you whenever I’m not working,” Dean argued, failing to see her point, when her face fell.
“No, Dean. Not just present, not taking care of me, but here with me. I’m not the only one that went through a loss, is going through a loss. We haven’t had the time to ourselves to grieve the loss of one of our babies, but I don’t want to do it alone, I want us to do it together,” Anna cried softly into his shirt.
Knowing she was right is what hurt the most. Dean shifted his body, pulling her into his arms, and, for the first time since they left the hospital, the two of them found solace in each other and grieved for the child they would never meet.
Two weeks later, Dean and Anna sat in Dr. Ryan’s office, listening intently as the doctor talked. Everything was looking normal and both babies were growing. Doctor Ryan, pleased with the test results, lifted the bed rest, but left some restrictions in place. Anna was instructed to cut back her hours at work and the doctor wanted to see her every two weeks instead of monthly, which would be typical for a single pregnancy.
Dean honored her wishes to be alone during the day, for the most part. He had stopped asking her friends to come over while he was at work; instead, Dean came home every day for lunch, and cut back on his own hours. He only worked every other Saturday now, and instead of hovering, he just spent time with her.
“Dean?” Anna murmured as they laid in bed one night a few weeks later, not having really discussed it since the night she blew up. “It’s okay, Baby. We are going to be okay.”
“I know, Honey. It’s just a lot to process. First, you tell me you had a vision of twin sons, then we find out it’s three, then th-this, and I can’t help but feel that maybe it really isn’t in the cards for us. What if the doctor is wrong? What if your visions aren’t real?” Dean’s voice was cracking, and she knew he was trying to keep it together for her. She pulled him closer to her.
“I don’t know either. But, I do know that we can get through it, together. Just...you have to talk to me, Dean. I know this put a lot on you, feeling like you have to take care of me all the time, but please don’t bottle it up like you have done your entire life, okay? Promise me that if you need to talk to me, you will. We are in this together, and I am not going anywhere. God has told me His plan for us and I have to have faith in that, just like I have faith in you, in us,” Annaleigh promised him as they held each other close.
Pretty soon it was Christmas and Anna could barely see her feet, even though she was only a little over halfway through her pregnancy. This, of course, made sex more challenging than it had been in the first few months, but with the hormones raging inside her, she was not going to let that stop them. Since Doctor Ryan had lifted her bed rest, she assured them intercourse would be fine, but cautioned them to be careful. Since then, they had pretty much stuck to the basics, but with Dean, even vanilla was incredible.
Anna had only one client one late December day, and it gave her plenty of time to contemplate what she was going to do for Dean when he got home from work. Or rather, what she was going to do to him. As soon as she was done for the day, she closed up shop and headed back to the house, feeling excited and already highly aroused.
She had recently been shopping online for sexy lingerie that didn’t leave her feeling fat. She was surprised to find several styles online that would accommodate her ever changing figure that were also incredibly sexy. The best part was they were delivered the day before. Dean was going to lose it and she couldn’t wait, feeling her panties getting wet just thinking about it.
She ran a nice warm bath with the lemon bubbles that Dean loved. She scrubbed, shaved, and lotioned from head to toe to make sure every inch was kissably soft. She left all the lights off on the main floor, leaving only a couple of candles and the fireplace to light the space. Anna placed a few beers in an ice bucket for Dean on the coffee table while she opted for sparkling water.
As she lay propped up on the couch cushions, trying to make herself comfortable and still look sexy, she looked around, pleased with the ambience of the room and dripping with anticipation for Dean to return home. She didn’t know how much longer she could wait before she took care of her own needs. Just a little bit longer. She was rewarded for her patience when she heard the rumble of the Impala just a few minutes later.
“Honey, I’m home,” Dean called out as he walked in the door.
“I’m on the couch, Babe,” she greeted him.
She could not see the kitchen door where she was, but she heard him drop his boots. The moment he hit the archway leading to the living room, she practically heard his jaw hit the floor. He let out a low growl as he slowly stalked toward her on the couch.
“My God, Red,” he whistled in appreciation. “You look so fucking sexy.” He reached down and grabbed her hands, pulling her upright so she was sitting, facing him as he dropped to his knees on the floor in front of her. His long fingers traced the peek-a-boo cups of the delicate lace on the black and sapphire blue babydoll negligee.
He placed one hand on each knee and gently spread her legs open, a low moan rumbling from his chest. “Crotchless panties? You naughty girl. Someone’s in a mood.” He wrapped his hands behind her knees and pulled them so her ass was on the edge of the couch, keeping her legs spread for him. Leaning down, he trailed his nose from her ample breasts, down to her navel, peppering her rounded belly with kisses. Dean stopped at the waistband of her barely there panties, inhaling her scent. “Smell so fucking good, Red.” He ran two long calloused fingers over her dripping folds without interference from the fabric.
Anna moaned as he traced her wet folds, opening even wider for him. “Dean.”
“You are soaked, Red. Is this all for me?” He leered at her, his eyes dark with want as he brought his fingers to his lips, licking her slick from them.
“This is always for you. Only for you. Because of you,” she murmured.
He licked one stripe up her center with the flat of his tongue, stopping just short of where she needed him. He continued this torture for minutes. She couldn’t take any more teasing and grabbed him by the head to lead his face to the sweet bundle of nerves that had been throbbing with desire for him all day. It did not take long for him to take over and dive in, taking her clit between his luscious lips and sucking until she lost it, free falling into the abyss of her orgasm. A string of filth fell out of her mouth followed by his name.
“You are the sexiest thing ever, you know that?” he panted against her skin as his lips sought out every inch from her center to her swollen breasts up to her neck. “I can’t get enough of you. There will never be enough of you, Annaleigh.”
He quickly shrugged off his clothes, letting his thick, hard cock spring free from its constraints. He eased his way back up her body, paying special attention to her overly sensitive breasts and nipples. He freed them from the lace cups, taking the firm nubs between the thumb and forefinger of each hand and rolling them just enough to set free a new flood of arousal down her thighs. The wanton moans escaping her mouth spurred Dean on and he took one in his mouth, running his tongue over it expertly with the just the right amount of pressure and suction. He was the only man who was able to make her cum from this alone and she did, as if on command.
“Damn, Red. You cumming with just some nipple play is fucking hot,” he moaned into her mouth before he continued kissing her.
“Babe, I just need to feel you inside me, so you better fuck me now before I do it myself,” Anna moaned, coming down from her second high.
“As much as I’d love to see that, I gotta feel that tight pussy, Red,” Dean groaned, stroking his length as he helped her up.
Although her belly was not too big yet, it still had became difficult for Dean to fuck her into the mattress or couch like he used to. Together, they had discovered a few new positions that they felt would work well for them. Dean held her hand as she turned around so that she was facing the back of the couch, with one leg on the armrest. He placed one foot on the couch and entered her from behind, agonizingly slow. He set a slow pace with his thrusting, heeding the advice of the doctor, and avoiding deep penetration.
Although his movements remained shallow, he picked up the pace as she held onto the back of the sofa. Anna could feel her third orgasm building again from deep within her core. “Faster, Dean, faster,” she pleaded with him. “Oh, Baby, you fill me up so good. Your cock feels so good, Dean,” she moaned.
“Cum with me, Red. I’m so close, I want to feel you cum so hard around me,” Dean grunted in her ear. As if she wasn’t sexy enough, hearing her get filthy turned him on even more. He pulled her up until her back was flush with his chest and lowered her leg, pushing them together. He could move faster, but it would prevent him from going too deep.
Anna reached down to her swollen clit, craving the additional friction. She threw her head back, meeting Dean’s strong shoulder. He reached around and covered her hand with his, helping her cross the finish line just before he did.
They collapsed, exhausted side by side on the couch, trying to regain control. “You are amazing, Dean. I love you so much,” Annaleigh confessed to him as she cupped his cheek, and he closed his eyes, leaning into her touch.
“I am so lucky to have you, Red. I couldn’t love anyone more,” he confirmed. With that, they dozed off, lazily tucked into one another.
Just into her third trimester, Annaleigh had three months of pregnancy remaining. Doctor appointments were every other week for the last trimester, but this week’s visit included another ultrasound. She and Dean had discussed it and, initially, they decided to let the genders of their babies be a surprise, but after encountering too many disagreements when planning the nursery, they made the choice to find out. Neither of them cared, as long as both babies were healthy.
Dean had dropped her off at the clinic a few minutes early, saying he had to run to the shop, but would be back for the ultrasound. He had been acting really weird lately, but she figured it was nerves and his protective nature kicking in again. With the most recent snowfall, he wouldn’t let her drive herself anymore, so she sat in the lobby, reading and waiting.
After about thirty minutes, the nurse finally called her name. Just as she was getting up from her chair, Dean came rushing through the doors. “Hi, Honey. Sorry I’m late. There was an accident on Main,” he explained, following her back to the exam room, his hand on the small of her back.
Thankfully, she didn’t have to have an exam today, just the ultrasound. She lifted her shirt as Dr. Ryan rubbed the cold gel over her swollen middle.
“Mom and Dad, there is a note here that you want to find out the genders finally?” Doc asked.
They both nodded, holding hands as she worked the wand over Anna’s belly.
Dr. Ryan continued. “Okay. Here is Baby A, and it looks like we have a healthy baby boy! Let’s take a look at Baby C…”
Did you like it? The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!
Yeah, go ahead, yell at me. It’s okay; I can take it. And I deserve it.
Soul to Souls tags: @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @iwantthedean @jensengirl83 @deanwanddamons @smol-and-grumpy @kbl1313 @waywardbeanie @whatareyousearchingfordean @princessmisery666 @shy-violet-soul @lastcallatrockysbar @winchesterxfamilybusiness @fangirlxwritesx67 @squirrelnotsam @michellethetvaddict @magssteenkamp @wonder-cole
#dean x annaleigh#dean x ofc#dean winchester x ofc#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester angst#dean winchester smut#tw: miscarriage
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Butterflies and Dahlias
Summary: Tony helps Peter with his crush on MJ.
(Just a little fluff to help those of us going into midterm season!)
Read on AO3
Peter had been texting someone on his phone since the moment he set his bag down in the lab. Not that Tony minded, he was too busy with his current project: restoring his dad’s old radio. It normally sat on his nightstand, but recently it had taken to playing random stations from Norway a few hours before sunrise. Tony wanted to blame Thor, but it was more likely a side-effect of a past upgrade gone wrong. Whatever the issue was, Pepper was not a fan. That meant Tony had to fix it.
Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw Peter look up from his phone and glance out the window of the compound’s lab. He squinted a bit at the sun shining into his eyes.
“MJ says that commuting to your workplace is an example of economic privilege,” he said, apropos of nothing.
“Yeah?” Tony looked up from his desk to assess the teen across the room from him. “Why’s that?”
“It’s something about how it makes you need enough money to buy a car, and the ability to pay for gas, and free time, I think?” Realizing that Peter was just rambling in his excitable teenager way, Tony turned back to his desk and continued to work on fiddling with the radio. ”‘Cause you need to be able to have time to commute instead of like, take care of your kids or something. I told her that Happy drove me here.”
“She sounds like a peach. What else does she say?” Tony replied distractedly, searching for the right size screwdriver.
“She also says that me wearing Ben’s old work shoes is closer to the original spirit of Doc Martens than the people at our school who buy them new.” Peter put his phone down on the table and started moving his hands in time with his words. ”She told me the history of them, it’s really interesting!”
The damn screw was such a weird size. “Is it?”
“Yeah, ‘cause it’s like, they were the working class of the 50s and 60s’ work shoes, and then the workers’ children would get them as hand me downs, and that’s the generation that started rock music and all that, so they have a rebellious history.” Peter jumped up to sit on a nearby table and continued to talk excitedly. ”She also told me about the racial history of a bunch of music genres. Did you know salsa music has a lot of African influence? I never knew that! It’s something about the syncopated beat structure, I don’t know.”
“Tell me about it,” Tony said mindlessly. He finally found the right size screwdriver and successfully started to reattach the back panel of the radio.
“Even the definition of syncopation is ‘the disturbance to the normal pulse of meter.’ Like, what’s the normal meter then? Whatever a bunch of old European white guys decided on?”
Tony noticed the lull in the conversation and gave a quick, “Mhmm.”
“There’s just so much whitewashing in our culture! Like, so much.” Peter paused for just a second to quickly check his phone. ”I really should be more aware of that stuff, especially because Queens is so diverse. And Spider-Man’s trying to be inclusive of everyone.”
“Is he now?” Tony asked, his attention still on the radio in front of him.
Peter nodded as he continued to speak. “I worry that I come off as too white savior-y when I’m saving people, but I brought up Spider-Man being white to MJ and she said she thinks he’s doing pretty good. So, it can’t be that bad, right?”
Tony finally dragged his attention away from his desk and looked over at Peter. He looked a little deranged, with his hair askew and cheeks slightly flushed.
“This MJ gal,” Tony said, pointing at Peter with the screwdriver. ”You like her?”
“What?” Peter’s mouth stayed partly open, his train of thought evidently derailed by Tony’s question.
“You like MJ.”
Peter laughed nervously and ran a hand through his hair. “No! I mean like, yeah, I like her, she’s one of my friends. But like, like like her?”
Tony leveled him with a steady look. “Do you?”
There were a few beats of silence as Peter leaned back until he was laying down on the table and looking upwards. Tony could hear his sigh from across the room.
“I think I like MJ,” he said, staring desolately at the ceiling.
Tony took off his tinted glasses and set them carefully on his desk. “Hey, good for you.”
“No, what?” Peter pushed himself up from his position until he could make nervous eye contact with Tony. “This is bad!”
“C’mon, kid, brighten up! You’re 16, the world is your oyster, and so on and so forth.” Tony waited for a reaction from Peter, but none came. “Have I told you about when I knew I was in love with Pepper?”
Tony had always held his cards close to his chest when it came to his personal life, so Peter perked up at the prospect of learning more about him.
“When’d you know?” he asked.
“Besides seeing her after I got the new ticker,” Tony said, tapping his shirt where his scars from the arc reactor were with the screwdriver he still held. “There was a night after I got it removed, nothing special about it, where I just looked at her and knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.”
Peter rested his head in his hands. “Why that night?”
Tony looked off into the distance and smiled, lost in thought. “I had just given her a necklace that was made with the shrapnel they yanked out of my heart. I’m not normally big on romance, so that sealed the deal for me.”
“Just like that?” Peter asked. “It just took a necklace?”
“It wasn’t just a necklace, it was a…” Tony trailed off as he searched for the right words, waving the screwdriver in lazy circles near his ear. “It was a culmination of years of tension.”
Peter scrunched his nose. “Gross.”
“It’s not gross, it’s romantic.” Tony sniffed and set the screwdriver back on his desk. “You’ll get it when you’re older.”
There was just a moment of silence before Peter started talking again.
“So,” Peter said, starting to swing his legs off the side of the table, “I need to buy her a necklace, then.”
“It’s not about the necklace, kid.” Tony waved away the remaining holograms and gave Peter his full attention. ”It’s about what it represents.”
Peter sighed and fell back onto the table. “I don’t have any shrapnel in my heart, man.”
“What’s something, anything, she’s told you about that you can make lovey-dovey?” Tony asked, barely holding back an eye-roll.
“I don’t know.” Suddenly, he lifts his head up and looks at Tony. “Wait, she mentioned the Black Dahlia murder the other day, that’s a flower, right?”
“That’s a flower,” he confirmed, pointing at Peter. “What can you do with that?”
Tony waited while Peter thought.
After a few seconds, Peter cringed and smiled awkwardly before saying, “I can get her a necklace of a black dahlia?”
Tony ran his hand through his hair. This kid. He sighed, then clapped his hands together.
“Alright, kid. If you’re going to do this, you’re doing it right.” He pulled his phone out and started tapping as he rambled. ”I know a great glassworker in Italy who can fix you up with something real quick. I’ll cover the cost and shipping, of course.” He ignored Peter’s muffled squawk of surprise. ”Unless you want to get it yourself, in which case I can loan you a private jet. Or, just make a healthy donation to fund a field trip for your AcaDec team to go to Europe--”
Peter cut him off by waving his hands. “Woah, woah, woah! Mr. Stark! Italy? We’re going to MoMA next week, I can’t go to Europe!”
“Alright, I hear you. No Europe.” Tony clicked his phone off and slid it back into his pocket. He saw the forlorn look on Peter’s face and tilted his head towards him. “Look, kid. You like her. Just be your normal dorky self. Don’t pretend to be anyone you’re not.”
Peter sighed and shoved his fingers into his hair. “Mr. Stark, I spend half my free time pretending to be someone I’m not.”
“Oh, kid.” Tony couldn’t hold back a chuckle at the sight of Peter unraveling over a girl. “You want the easy way?”
Peter jerked his head up to look at Tony. “Yes, please.”
Tony could see the desperation in his eyes. Oh, to be a teenager again.
“There is no easy way,” Tony said as he slid his tinted glasses back on. “Get used to it now.”
Peter groaned and laid back down on the table, hitting the back of his head on the surface a few times for good measure.
Tag List: @ironfamjam @addi-is-amazing @mysterio-is-a-little-bitch @wellplacedbanana @night0seven @unfathomable-universe @bibbidi-bobbity-booyah @spideynamu
#hey my confidence is back!#art writes#irondad#iron man#spider-man#spiderman#mcu#marvel#spideychelle#peter parker#michelle jones#peterxmj
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Part One | Part Two | Part Three
Tag List: @prettieststarker @readysetstarker @lover-starker@starkerprince @starker-flame @i-am-irondaddy @blush-reincarnated@c6h12o6-work @von–gelmini @caseysroses @darkobsidianquill
*
This is the least favorite part of Peter’s days, visiting his uncle. Its not like he doesn’t love him, of course he does, but its not exactly easy to look at him lying in a hospital bed with a tube sticking out of his mouth because some asshole shot him. And Peter knows whoever did it, because despite the whole thing being caught on camera the cops aren’t competent enough to find the guy, has probably led a complicated life too but that doesn’t make it easier. Its just what he knows Ben would say, if he could respond to Peter’s thoughts. He doesn’t know how Ben managed to stay as positive as he had, no matter what shitty thing was happening. Its admirable, Peter thinks, that he was always able to maintain that regardless of what was going on.
He’s quietly contemplating that when May walks in looking a little uncomfortable and it has to be worse for her. Peter can’t even imagine what it must be like, watching someone you’ve been married to for so long like this. “Apparently we’re up to date on payments,” she says softly, walking over and standing beside him. “That’s not possible.”
Peter shakes his head, “its fine, I got a job,” he tells her.
May clearly doesn’t buy it and he can’t say he blames her. “Doing what? Because there’s not a whole hell of a lot that pays that much and Ned confirmed you didn’t drop out of school.”
The good news is that Ned clearly didn’t tell her what his job was. “Oh, um. Internship, it pays well because its really hard to get into,” he lies.
“Shit, for that kind of money they might as well hire someone to work there full time,” May says and to Peter’s surprise she leaves it alone, settling her hand on his shoulder instead and squeezing. “If you get yourself into trouble, let me know,” she adds after a few moments. His stomach squeezes a little because he’s not in trouble and he doesn’t want to worry her, but he’s not really willing to tell her the truth either.
*
When he gets to Tony’s he’s kind of grateful that he knows exactly what’s going to happen because its a bit of a relief. He’s kind of had enough of wild cards and Tony is nothing if not thorough in his expectations so Peter changes into Liz’s skirt, determine that she’s never going to get it back now because he couldn’t possibly look her in the eye while she wore it and makes his way to the couch in the living room. He’s got homework, mostly writing up a few reports for class and its tedious more than anything but at least it keeps him focused.
Ned has already done his half in the google doc they’re sharing and Peter sends a silent thank you to him for not being a garbage lab partner. He got stuck with Flash once, which was weird because Flash apparently didn’t recognize him and then hit on him like he didn’t spend three quarters of high school calling him ‘penis parker’ and a bunch of other uncreative names when he thought of them. Turns out he’s as smart as he was in high school but he liked to wait until two hours before any given project was due to do the work and that just stressed him out. But Ned is reliable and not a total shithead so his half is done and Peter starts in on his. Might as well be productive before he’s essentially at work.
He’s managed to get a good chunk of it done by the time Tony walks in looking harassed. Peter looks at him over the back of the couch, “bad day?” he asks as Tony walks over.
Tony lets out an irritated sigh, “you could say that. You?” he asks, leaning against the back of the couch.
He could lie, but he doesn’t much see the point. Plus it works, feeling kind of the same way Tony does. “Not much better, but at least I don’t have shitty patterns for group projects so there’s that,” he says.
Tony laughs, “half the struggle in like, any collaborative situation. Which conveniently happens to be my problem. It irritates me when people don’t pull their weight,” he mumbles.
“Yeah, but you can like… fire them. I can’t fire shitty group project members, all I get is a strongly worded email to my professors saying that they’re lazy assbats in the most polite way I can manage.” Which always requires a group ‘is this too salty’ edit from his friends that takes an hour or so before he sends it. Life would be easier if he could just fire people.
“Yeah, but then you have to replace them and that’s a pain in the ass too,” Tony says, looking amused. “Assbats?”
Peter shrugs, “its the best I could come up with on short notice.”
Tony nods and looks him over, gaze stopping at his skirt for a moment. “You wore it,” he says like he hadn’t asked Peter to.
“Yeah, I um, you asked me to,” he points out.
“Doesn’t mean you’d listen. Can I kiss you?” he asks.
Yeah, its not like its a hardship to kiss Tony given that he’s not exactly bad looking so Peter nods. He’s anxious to get into this proper anyway, figure out what Tony is like when he’s actually doing the whole dom thing rather than just as a person. Peter already knows he likes him as a person. Tony looks him over slowly, eyes landing on his lips for a moment before he reaches forward and tilts Peter’s head up a little and leans in. The kiss is soft, sweet- tentative, like he isn’t sure of himself and that’s cute.
He goes to pull away but Peter pulls him back, shifting so he’s leaning up into Tony more. Tony cups his cheek, thumb brushing his cheek as he gently coaxes Peter into it, biting at his bottom lip a little and Peter lets out a soft moan. Tony pulls away but Peter grabs his hand before it can disappear too. “Don’t be cheap on me, Tony, I happen to know you have money,” Peter tells him surprised that he said that.
Tony takes it well though, smiling down at him with amusement. “I knew you were a good choice. Mind if I sit?” he asks, gesturing to the couch.
Peter frowns, “its your house,” he points out.
“Its your space I’d be sitting in,” Tony says.
He shrugs, “feel free,” he tells Tony, closing his laptop and curling his feet up, setting the laptop aside. Tony rounds the couch and reaches out, curling his hand around Peter’s crossed ankles and pulling them into his lap slowly, like he’s giving Peter time to pull away. He doesn’t, he just goes back to stretching his legs out as he settles in. Tony sets his arms down on Peter’s legs, one hand curling around his ankle as he strokes Peter’s ankle bone with his thumb.
“Here,” Tony says, shifting a little as he reaches into his pocket and pulls something out. He hands it to Peter and he frowns.
“A card?” he asks. Some kind of credit card, he assumes but that makes no sense.
“Yeah, a card. Get whatever you need with it. Or whatever you want,” Tony tells him.
“You’re like, aware I get paid, right?” Peter asks, squinting.
Tony snorts, “you’re aware I’m like a billionaire, right?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
Peter can’t help the small snicker he lets out, “I mean yeah I know that but still. What’s the deal?”
“In my experience people have things to pay for in this line of work, usually something expensive. Take the wiggle room,” Tony tells him.
It occurs to him that Tony thinks he’s paying for school and Peter is happy to let him think that, actually. “Um, okay,” he says, setting the card on top of his computer.
“And buy something that isn’t pizza or hot pockets, I know how college students live,” Tony says and Peter laughs.
“Do you though?” he asks. Someone with as much money as Tony probably didn’t have like, a normal college experience by any stretch.
“Yeah, my lowest point was the time Rhodey and I ran out of food so we made Mr. Noodles with cranberry vodka. I don’t fucking recommend, we threw it up basically immediately,” he says, wrinkling his nose.
Oh god, ugh. “That’s disgusting and way worse than that time we all decided we wanted Frootloops so we went out to get some at three in the morning and came back only to find all the bowls were dirty so we made makeshift bowls out of tin foil.” Then they hate their food like trolls but it was great because they actually managed to find the damn Frootloops. Took a couple stores but they found them.
Tony laughs, shaking his head. “Tin foil bowls?” Peter nods and Tony grins, “that’s creative, I’ll give you that.”
“And disposable, so no extra dishes,” Peter says proudly.
“So you’ll use the card?” Tony states more than asks.
“I mean, if I need it maybe.” He doesn’t really need more money, just what he’s getting so he’s sure it’ll be fine.
“Use the card,” Tony tells him, tightening his grip on Peter’s ankle for a moment. “I gave it to you for a reason.”
“Three am Frootloops?” Peter says, grinning.
“There are better uses than that but sure, three am Frootloops,” he says, staring at him for a long moment before he smiles. “Come here,” he tells Peter, moving his arms off his legs.
Peter shifts, crawling over so he’s sitting in Tony’s lap. He looks a little surprised but recovers fast, wrapping an arm around him as his lips quirk up. “You’re perfect, you know that?” he tells Peter.
He blushes a little and looks away, “I don’t know about that,” he murmurs.
Tony tilts his head back up, “I do, baby. Now, do you want to get into this?” he asks.
Peter nods. “I kind of want to know what I’ve got in store for me,” he says.
Tony pets up his thigh with the hand that isn’t settled on his waist, “well, not too much tonight. Just some basic training,” Tony tells him. He pouts and Tony smiles at him again because apparently he likes that kind of thing. “Don’t look at me like that, you’ll be back soon anyway so its not like you have to wait all that long.”
“Training?” Peter prompts and Tony’s smile gets wider.
“Yeah, baby. You ready?”
*
Peter is on his way home feeling kind of… good when he sees them. He stops for a moment and looks, debates on walking away but he feels giddy and happy and his afternoon with Tony was good and the shoes are pretty. They’re a soft pink, the same one he’d worn at Tony’s the first time he was there and they’d look cute with that skirt he stole from Liz and he doesn’t need shoes. He definitely doesn’t need shoes that he’d probably never wear because where would he wear heels? So he goes to walk away, making it maybe five paces before he turns around and goes back because he likes the shoes and he had a shitty morning, he thinks he’s earned some shoes.
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secrets
Polyhymnia has been keeping a secret. But she doesn’t want to anymore. Or, an introduction to Celeus.
—————
Polyhymnia had a secret.
She wasn’t one to keep things from others. Especially not her sisters — in her whole life, she could count on one hand the mount of times she kept secrets from them. And none were as big as this one. She tried not to think about it, about the look on Erato’s face when she found out. Or the look on Euterpe’s face. Euterpe didn’t like secrets — she didn’t like being the last to know.
It wasn’t that she was withholding without a reason. She just didn’t want to make a big deal out of something that might just be nothing. Besides, this was a big secret.
The secret had a name. And his name was Celeus.
Poly didn’t mean for Celeus to be a secret. She didn’t mean for him to be anything, really. But this was before the daisies started arriving at tête-à-tête, delivered with care. The little cards were full of words, cramped handwriting trying to explain the scientific properties of daisies while saying that daisies reminded him of her because they were so bright and beautiful. Celeus wasn’t supposed to be anything — he was a post doc at Asphodel, studying botany. He worked part time at Six Seeds, helping Persephone troubleshoot soil problems between classes.
When Poly walked in one day, on her way to have dinner with Melpomene, she wasn’t expecting to see him.
“Oh! Polyhymnia!” Persephone smiled as she walked in the door, wiping her hands on her apron. Her hair was free flowing and wild, a pair of sunglasses on her head, keeping the curls out of her face. “I’ve got something I want to show you! Celeus — can you bring me out the bonsai?”
Poly smiled, and adjusted her bag on her shoulder as she walked into the shop further. She loved Seph’s space — loved the hanging plants, and the fragrance, and the way that everything looked so seamlessly mismatched. She thought she could recognise everything in this place. That was, until she looked up and saw him.
He smiled at her with his eyes, his mouth slack. Poly didn’t hear it, but Persephone heard a slight gasp from the boy. “Celeus — this is Polyhymnia.” Poly looked up at him, her eyes wide. She cleared her throat after only a moment, but she had still held her silence for a little too long.
“Nice to meet you, Polyhymnia,” Celeus stuttered out, his smile finally reaching his lips, revealing a gentle dimple on his cheek. He tried to reach out to shake her hand, but the small tree was still in his grasp, so it looked more as if he was pushing the tree directly at her. Poly giggled and stepped back.
“Poly’s fine. Nice to meet you as well…. Celeus, was it?” Seph watched the boy melt as he nodded at her. And then lapsed into silence. Rolling her eyes, Seph stepped in, taking the Bonsai out of his hands, and gently handing it to Poly.
* * *
Soon bouquets started showing up at the bookshop. he started waiting in the lobby of the music academy, ready to walk her home, even though he lived thirty minutes in the other direction. He dropped off meals, and bought the books she mentioned, even if he didn’t really understand them.
He didn’t question why Poly kept her hands in her pockets the entire walk home. Or why she never took him up on his offer to buy her a coffee at Ambrosia, or at the Dust Bowl.
Poly tried to keep him at an arm's length, but soon enough she decided that she didn’t want to.
She let him eat lunch with her when he stopped by the bookstore. She found herself itching to feel what his hand felt like clasped together with hers. She wanted to know how he took his coffee. Wanted to see his bookshelves. Wanted to know what it felt like to share her heart with him in a way she had never wanted to share with anyone else.
“Have I ever mentioned how great you look in green?” Celeus was sitting on the ladder that was leaning against the wall.
“Oh… thank you,” Poly said, grabbing another stack of books, continuing to restock the shelves. She looked down at the part of her scarf that rest on her shoulders. “Orpheus picked this colour out when he was little. It’s always been my favourite.”
“I mean, you look beautiful in every colour,” he said, never taking his eyes off her. She turned away to hide her blush.
“Oh, so you’re a poet now?” She challenged him, a smile on her face. He couldn’t see it but could hear it in her voice.
“Nah,” he said, getting off the ladder, and walking over to hand her some books. “Just a lousy botanist.”
They worked quietly, side by side. Poly didn’t know what to do — the silence felt so fragile, she didn’t want to shatter this moment. She wanted to preserve it under glass, to look at in dark days.
“You deserve a poet though,” he said, fixing spines on the shelf. More silence.
“…What if I said I don’t want a poet,” Poly said, biting her bottom lip, channelling whatever confidence she had left to try and keep this moment alive. Erato was good at this — she was good at flirting and saying the right things. All Poly could come up with was a million words that were not her own. She found solace within the pages of books, between lines of sonnets. She didn’t know how to form her own sentences. How does one build a love story when they have no foundations?
“What if I said it was you that I wanted.”
She could see Celeus out of the corner of her eyes, could see him tilt his head and look over at her. She turned her back to the shelf and he slowly moved to stand in front of her.
They looked at each other, one of Poly’s hands on the shelf behind her to steady herself as she looked up into his warm, dark eyes. The shone like stars as he looked down at her. His hands by his side for a moment, before he reached up slowly to cup her cheek. She felt his palm against her cheek and struggled to not lean into it, lean into him.
And with the words of lovers, old and young, at her back, she rose onto her toes and pressed their lips together. In the crowded aisle, surrounded by poetry, Polyhymnia could only imagine that this was what champagne must feel like — pent up energy, the idea of celebration, the fizz of new adventure. And Celeus couldn’t help but smile against her lips. This women, this beauty he had sought after. He loved the way her mind worked, the way she went through the world with kindness and care. He wouldn’t jinx it, wouldn’t ask for any more than she would give him, but he imagined a possible future where this happened regularly. And he couldn’t help but giggle.
“Why are you laughing,” she whispered, leaning her forehead against his, afraid that the moment could shatter like glass if she spoke any louder.
“Because I somehow got the most incredible woman alive to kiss me.”
***
“Can I ask you a question?”
Polyhymnia was sat at the bar after hours — she stopped in after she had shut the bookstore. Celeus had picked her up and walked her to the bar. She wanted to tell him to come inside, but she stopped herself. She wasn’t ready to invite him any further into her life, until she knew exactly where he would fit. He understood, even if she didn’t say it aloud. He understood, but that didn’t stop him from smiling at her, reaching for her waist, waiting for her to loop her arms around his neck before he leaned in to kiss her. A few moments later, she needed to pull away and enter the Dust Bowl, smiling at him as he walked away.
“Of course,” Orpheus said, spray bottle in one hand, rag in the other. Eurydice had hopped the bar a few minutes earlier, and stole the little notebook in his apron pocket, so she could take stock and start bringing things upstairs from the cellar.
“It’s about Eurydice.” Like clockwork, his pale cheeks went rosy, and he lifted his eyes to look at his aunt.
“What about her?”
“When… I don’t know. When did you know that it was right. When did you decide to bring her home?” She watches as Orpheus’ face continued to brighten at the thought of memories Poly had no access to.
“I mean, I kind of knew from the moment I saw her,” he started, wiping down the counters methodically. “I just couldn’t look away. And then I realised that… that…” He trailed off for a moment, his eyes not meeting Poly’s.
“Sorry, O,” she said quickly. “Weird question, forget I even as—“ Poly tried to speak quickly, tried to negate his need to answer the question, but her nephew was faster.
“I realised that I wanted her to be apart of every aspect of my life. And that even if it was hard, I didn’t care.” He looked up at his aunt, and smiled softly, mostly with his eyes. “Introducing Eurydice to you guys was terrifying, but I would have burst if I had to keep the two most important parts of my life separate from one another.”
“What are we talking about?” Poly looked over Orpheus’ shoulder to see Eurydice carrying up two cases of various bottles. Orpheus turned quickly to help lighten her load. Poly looked for words, but her nephew, the Poet, always had the right ones.
“About when you first met my aunts,” Orpheus said, sliding one of the boxes under the bar before sliding out of the way to let Eurydice drop her box beside his.
“Oh you mean one of the most terrifying days of my life?” She said, laughing. She wiped her hands on her jeans before pushing her hair behind her ears.
“Oh come on — we weren’t that bad,” Poly tried to reason. This earned her a withered glare for Eurydice.
“You were fine, Poly,” Eurydice chuckled. Orpheus wrapped his arms around her middle and rested his chin on her head. She wanted to know what it felt like to have Celeus hold her like that. “You and Thalia. Clio, to some extent. But Urania? Melpomene? Erato? I had to meet all of you at once. There was nowhere to hide!”
“And I told you why!” Orpheus countered, chuckling and squeezing his girlfriend’s waist slightly. “They would have never forgiven me if one of them met you before the others did.”
“Oh, is that what we’re saying now.” Poly started to zone out, watching the young lovers bicker back and forth with smiles on their face. She turned, looped her fingers through his belt loops. He reached up to brush her hair behind her ear as she went on about the quirks of Poly’s sisters.
Poly’s mind drifted to the curly haired boy she had shared kisses with in the poetry section. Who she played piano for, as he sat backwards on the bench beside her. She wanted him to be by her side, to meet her sisters. She didn’t want him to feel like a little secret. And he wouldn’t be for much longer.
#dust bowl.fic#Polyhymnia#Celeus#orpheus#eurydice#persephone#dust bowl au#hadestown au#hadestown broadway#hadestown fanfiction
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Gateway Drug | Part Twenty-Seven
Table of Content or Part Twenty-Six
Pairing: Douglas Booth!Nikki Sixx x OC
Word Count: 2.3k
Warning(s): Language, Hints at drug use
A/N: This wasn't the entire chapter, however tumblr's being weird and won't even let me create a new draft right now let alone let me upload a 4,044 worded text post so I'll upload the second part of this asap (probably tomorrow of they get their shit fixed on here) and there will be another update Friday. Have a good night:)
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I smooth my wavey hair down, taking the last giant velcrow roller out before putting my lipstick on and leaving the bathroom, looking for the car keys, unable to find them.
"Nikki, babe, where are the keys?" I call to him, looking in the kitchen and living room, heading to our bedroom.
He's passed out from a night of partying, Robbin still asleep on the floor.
"Baby." I lightly pat Nikki's face, not having the time to patiently shake him awake.
He groans, scrunching his face and rubbing his eyes.
"What is it?" He asks me, exhausted.
"Where are the car keys?"
"Mine or your's?" He questions, blinking at me to clear the sleep from his eyes.
"Your's. I can't drive mine until we get the driver's side window fixed, remember?"
"What? What happened to it?" He sits up and I raise my brows.
"Uh, well, you put your fist through it?" I remind him and he exhales.
"Oh...yeah." He replies. "They're in my pants pocket."
I don't give him time to reach for them himself.
My hand is in his pants pocket, grabbing his keys and pulling them out.
"Bye, love y-love, I'll see you when I get back." I stutter to cover my slip up, cutting myself off immediately before I can say, "love you", even though I've never called Nikki "love" before.
He doesn't notice it.
"See you when you get back." He mumbles once he's laying back down.
I slip my kitten heels on and head out.
"I love you" was one of the biggest Elephants in the room between Nikki and I.
We should have said it and we knew that, but we just didn't say it.
At first I was waiting for him to say it, then he never did...so I just decided it was something we wouldn't do.
Love's an action instead of an emotion, anyway, so I didn't think it was a big deal that neither of us had heard it from the other because we showed each other we loved each other in other ways...until we didn't anymore...and started keeping score, measuring who was winning by who was hurting who more, instead of trying to be better to each other.
I had to face that ugly reality when we were both screaming "I hate you" with Fred and Doc trying to break up one of our argument-turned-near-fist fights backstage at the last North American show of "Girls, Girls, Girls."
That was the night I got pregnant with my first son, Monroe, and the man barking about how much he hated me, isn't the father.
It's safe to say I won.
My heels click down the concrete stairs of the church as I walk to Nikki's black corvette after service is over, furrowing my brows the closer I get, seeing a white slip of paper tucked under the windsheild wiper.
I pluck the paper off and see it's a ticket for $350.00 with "BROKEN TAIL LIGHT" marked on it.
"My tail light isn't broken." I argue to myself, stepping around the back.
The entire left side set of lights are busted with signs of swapped paint where someone hit the car with their's and I open my mouth to speak but no words come out.
I stand and stare at the paper, then the busted light, tears oncoming the more I look at it.
Nikki is going to kill me.
I hear a car pull up behind me and park on the curb of the street but I don't pay any attention, too busy figuring out how to explain this.
"Hey, uh, Vivian?"
I turn to see Duff, wiping my eyes quickly.
"Duff?" I'm caught off guard by my recently new friend. "I've told you just call me 'Viv'." I tell him, sniffling and he furrows his brows, stopping in front of me where I'm now standing by the driver's door of the corvette.
"You alright?"
"Yeah." It's an obvious lie, a pathetic squeak leaving me.
"What's up?" He asks me and I lick my lips and sigh out.
"It's stupid." I mumble, rolling my eyes.
"What happened?"
I just hand him the ticket and he takes in a sharp breath, his brows shooting up.
"Jeezus." He lets out. "You just got this?"
"Yes." My voice cracks and he looks at me with sympathetic eyes.
"Viv, c'mon, it's not that bad. It'll be alright." He tries to reassure me.
"Oh, no, no, no...that's not all." I say, walking to the back and he follows me, not hiding the gasp that leaves his lips. Nikki is going to kill me."
There's a silent pause as I rest against the back of the corevette, crossing my arms, trying to figure out how I'm going to present the $350.00 ticket to my husband.
Duff leans against it beside me, avoiding the broken bits, thinking for a second, too, before reaching into his jacket pocket.
"Here." He grabs my hand, putting a wad of cash into it and I look at him, confused. "For the ticket." He explains and I shake my head.
"N-No. I can't take this from you, you need it." I argue, wiping more tears.
He goes to say something but I cut him short. "If you say that you don't need it, I'm going to hit you. You live in your car, Duff. You've been talking about getting a new place and this is part of the rent for an apartment." I point out, handing the cash back to him.
"Whatever you say." He shrugs, putting it back in his jacket.
We sit for a moment longer before he nudges me with his elbow.
"You hungry?" He asks and I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.
"Stop offering to spend your money on me." I chuckle and he smiles.
"Actually, I know a place the both of us can eat and it would only cost the price of one beer." He tells me and I raise my brows.
It was the first of many Sunday lunches at this hotel a few blocks away that offered an "all you can eat" buffet if you just buy a bottle of beer.
I listen as Duff goes on about possible members of the potential band he wants to be a part of.
A drummer named Steven, who has a lot of extra drums in his kit than what's needed but he's a hell of a drummer.
A Johnny Thunders look alike-that isn't that great on a guitar but makes it sound cool anyway-that goes by the name Izzy.
And a kind of weird kid that apparantly has massive hair and is super shy but speaks a billion words a minute through his guitar: Slash.
"And Slash and Steven are buddies, but I don't know if they've ever met Izzy or not." He tells me, sipping the beer neither of us were carded for, even though we're only twenty.
"What style of singer do you have in mind?" I ask, taking a bite out of my mozerella stick.
"Someone who gets the punk scene, but not necessarily a punk singer." He tells me and I wrinkle my nose. "Don't do that." He points at me, knowing exactly what I'm about to say.
"Punk?"
"Don't say it like that." He laughs. "You don't like it because you don't understand it."
"I understand it and I respect it, I just don't..." I try to choose my words. "...I like some of it, but most of it I don't really care for."
"How the hell do you survive not liking punk? It's the biggest 'fuck you' to societal standards." He defends the genre.
"I like the Ramones, The Stooges, the New York Dolls." I tell him, even though they were all acquired tastes because I have to listen to them so much due to Nikki.
"What about The Sex Pistols?" Duff suggests.
"I did, until Sid killed Nancy." I shrug.
"Oh, c'mon, Viv, you really believe that propaganda bullshit made up by the conservative media to further their anti-punk/rock agenda and get a good check? He did not kill her." He argues.
"They'd been binging on all kinds of drugs for weeks. I'm not saying he meant to, maybe he was hallucinating and genuinely didn't realize it was her until it was too late, but he did it." I state.
"Nope."
"Oh, okay, so it was the body guard?"
"I think it was a double suicide attempt." He explains and I lean back. "His just didn't work."
"If it was a double suicide, why didn't he just use the knife she used and bleed to death like she did?" I question.
"Maybe he didn't want to be stabbed."
"If he was going to die, what would it matter?" I ask and he shakes his head a little with a small grin pulling at his lips.
"Hi, my name is Vivian Estine Sixx and I can argue with a brick wall for five hours straight." He mocks me and I cut my eyes at him.
We just stare at each other, and he attempts to take another drink of his beer while we have our staring contest, and the both of us crack up simultaneously, and he sprays beer through his lips and nose, further egging my laughter on.
I get home around four in the afternoon after spending three hours talking to Duff, and my stomach's sore from laughing so much.
"Viv?" Nikki calls from the bathroom and I walk in to see him teasing his hair.
He's shirtless, his black jeans are unbuttoned and unzipped, exposing some of his pubic hair and I lick my lips.
"Did you have fun?" He asks in a teasing tone, referring to the oh-so-wild church service I attend as much as I can, and I roll my eyes and lean against the sink beside him, crossing my arms.
"Yes, I did." I reply, not able to meet his eyes because I'm too focused on his exposed skin.
"What took you so long to get back?" He asks next.
I know, I know, "if it was innocent then there should be nothing to hide and you should be able to tell him you were with another man."
It wasn't Tommy, Mick, Robbin or Vince, and he never met Duff.
He didn't trust men he'd never met around me.
So if I would have told him, I would have never heard the end of it.
"Long sermon." I lie, and he looks at me and furrows his brows.
"Have you been crying? Your mascara's smudged." He tells me, his thumb swiping right under my bottom lash line to wipe away dried mascara and I'm suddenly hit with the realization that I have a $350.00 ticket.
"It was a good sermon." I say.
He finishes his hair, turning to look at me.
"Me and the guys are going to the Rainbow tonight." He tells me. "You're comin', right?"
"Yes." I nod, grinning.
"Good. I gotta go get the oil changed and I'll be back to pick you up." He steps out of the bathroom to go get dressed and I follow him.
Once he's got his t-shirt that has "FUCK" written across the front, he's pulling his jacket and boots on.
When he's gotten his boots on, he stands up from the matress of our bed, and I grab at the top of his jeans, pulling him closer to me, standing on my tip toes to press my lips to his.
He kisses me, his hands holding at either side of my jaw.
When we pull away, he smiles, kissing my cheek before grabbing his keys and leaving.
The second he's gone I'm darting to my purse, attempting to find the ticket, praying I didn't leave it in the car.
Once I see it's not in my purse, I let out a deep breath and worry that I've lost it.
"Damnit." I mumble, trying to remember the last place I had it. "The church parkinglot with Duff but..." I trail off, thinking of the possibility of it being left in the parkinglot and I groan out.
There's no way it's still there if that's where it got left.
I decide to figure it out later and go wash away my worn off makeup before reapplying it and changing clothes, waiting for Nikki to get back.
I'm finishing putting on ruby red lipstick when I hear the front door slam and I tense up and put the cap back on the tube before peeking my head out the door and seeing Nikki put his keys and a piece of paper on the counter, frustration taking a stance in his movements.
Pretending nothing's wrong, I walk out of the bathroom and across the floor to our bedroom to grab my purse and put my heels on.
Once they're on, I walk back into the kitchen smile at him.
"C'mon, babe." I nudge him as I walk past him to get to the door.
He grabs my arm, though, causing me to stop and he pulls me back, pushing me against the counter, trapping me when he puts his hands on the counter on either side of me and his face is centimeters from mine.
"You wouldn't know anything about the completely shattered tail light on my car, would you?" He asks me calmly.
"No?" I lie, trying to seem confused, but it's clear he's not buying it.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
He just stares at me and I slide my hands up and down his arms, smiling nervously.
"Can we go, now?" I ask, kissing his cheek.
"I spent $100.00 to get it fixed today." He explains. "Did you back into something or did someone hit the car?"
"I told you I didn't even know about it, babe." I argue calmly. "Can we leave and just go back and forth about this later? We're gonna be late."
He gives me one last stare before sighing out, letting me go and I make sure to beat him to the car by several strides, frantically searching for the ticket when I get in, not finding it, before he gets in beside me.
#nikki sixx#tommy lee#vince neil#mötley crüe#douglas booth#daniel webber#colson baker#the dirt#the dirt movie
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Second Home
Second Home: A Clintasha Fanfic
Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Word Count: 1279
Rating: M
Warnings: Sex tallk, minor injuries
Synopsis: You, Clint and Natasha, have a second home in the medbay.
Second Home
The three of you spent a lot of time in the medical bay. Far more than anyone else really. Except maybe the doctors. No, wait, probably more than them too, because they went home at the end of the day whereas you three couldn’t always do that.
There was always some injury. Broken ribs, cracked metacarpals, concussions, stab wounds, blood loss, gunshots, back injuries. Mostly to Clint really but given that there were three of you and two of you had no superpowers at all and you were always fighting, it made a lot of sense. These glass-walled rooms with bright unnatural light had become just as much your home as your actual home.
It was Clint’s turn. Again. He had broken two ribs and fractured his wrist as well as his nose. Again. He also had three stitches in a wound on his head and another five on one in his side. He sat up in the bed with monitors strapped to him drinking an apple and cherry Capri Sun. Natasha sat beside him looking at a tablet while you had curled into him on his other side.
“I don’t even know why I’m drinking this. It tastes like medicine.” Clint said without even taking the straw out of his mouth.
“They didn’t have straight apple and you’re conditioned to drink one whenever you’re in here,” Natasha answered without looking up from her tablet.
“Apple Juice tastes like wood glue.” You said poking the pouch in Clint’s hand. It sprayed it into his face. “Oh god! Sorry! I didn’t mean to do that.” You yelped jumping up and grabbing some paper towels from the roll on the wall.
“God damn it! Why me? It’s not bad enough I’m busted up, now I have to be all sticky from juice?” Clint whined as he took the paper towels and wiped himself clean.
Without looking up, Nat snorted. “Juice face.”
“What did you think was going to happen when you did that?” Clint asked.
“I didn’t think. I just poked.”
“I’ve got a better question. How do you know what wood glue tastes like?” Natasha asked finally looking up.
“My dad was a carpenter.” You answered slightly defensively.
Clint tossed the ruined paper towels into the trash and looked at you with an eyebrow raised. “And what? He fed you pieces of wood and made you drink wood glue?”
“Damn. I thought the Red Room was bad.” Natasha teased.
“He didn’t make me drink wood glue. But he did let me make things out of timber offcuts and I’d get the glue on my hands and then I’d chew it off.” You explained.
“That’s weird. You know that right?” Clint said.
You poked him in the side. “Yeah okay, circus boy.”
“Stitches!” He yelped. “And don’t make fun of my tragic backstory. It was traumatic.”
“Sorry, Clint.” You said.
He pulled you back against him. “You will be sorry when I divorce you.”
“Oh, I hope you do. Then I’ll marry Nat.” You shot back.
“Yeah, you will.” She said, leaning over and kissing you. Her hand went to your hair and her tongue teased your lips open and dipped into your mouth.
“No way! Nat was mine first. If anyone gets to marry her it’s me!” Clint complained.
“I think Nat gets to say who Nat gets to marry. Besides, neither of you are getting a divorce.” Nat said. “You gotta stop using it as a threat.”
You nuzzled into Clint’s neck, smelling the mixture of soap and antibacterial was on his skin. “Yeah, he’s all talk anyway.”
Clint tilted his head and captured your lips, kissing you long and slowly, his hand tightening on your hip. His tongue swirled with yours and the longer it lasted the more tightly he pulled you against him. He broke away and leaned his forehead against yours. “Keep kissing me like that and you’re gonna need to follow through.”
“Excuse me? You started it.” You snarked.
“Besides. No one is following through with anything. Not after that nurse walked in on us last time.” Natasha said rolling her eyes.
You and Clint started giggling. “Her face was classic.” You said.
“So we’re not traumatizing any more medbay staff,” Natasha said. “Agreed?”
“Fine.” Clint huffed. “But I’m jumping you both as soon as they let me out of here.”
“Yeah, yeah, tough guy. You’re not jumping anyone in the state you’re in.” Nat snarked.
“Then you can both jump me,” Clint said waggling his eyebrows.
You kissed the corner of his jaw. “Maybe. If you play your cards right.”
“I am very good at cards.” Clint teased.
“God, you two. I thought I was the one with the infinite sex drive.” Natasha groaned, picking her tablet back up.
“You don’t get to own the copyright on horny.” Clint teased. “I’m plenty horny.” He pulled Nat close to him and kissed her hard. You leaned your head against Clint’s chest as the two of them locked lips.
Natasha was the one who pulled away first and she tapped his cheek with her palm. “What did I just say?”
“No blow jobs in the medbay,” Clint huffed.
“No anything in the medbay,” She said pecking his lips. “Now, keep your pants on.”
“I don’t even have any pants on,” Clint said lifting the blanket up so he could show his hospital gown.
“And with a semi. What the hell, Clint?” You said whacking his shoulder.
“What?” Clint squawked. “Like I can control it. You two were making out with me!”
Natasha shook her head. “Oh no, you don’t. You made out with us.”
“No way!” Clint protested. “I’m an invalid. Innocently minding my own business in a hospital bed. Just trying to recover.”
“There is absolutely nothing innocent about you, Clinton Francis Barton.” You scolded.
Clint’s eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open. “You just used my full name! Natasha! She used my full name! Am I in trouble here?”
You leaned in close to him, teasing your lips over his jaw. “You bet your ass you are.”
He grinned and brought his lips so they were hovering over yours, taunting you. “Oh, I like the sound of that.”
You kissed again and his fingers dug into your thigh.
The door opened and someone cleared their throat. “Agent Barton,” She said.
You broke away, heat filling your face. She moved to the end of the bed and picked up the chart reading it over. She looked over a few of the machine readouts before looking down at the chart again. “Everything looks good. If you would rather stay overnight that’s fine, but I’m sure we can send you home with some painkillers if you would prefer.”
“Nope,” Clint shouted jumping out of the bed and knocking you and Natasha sprawling.
“Clint!” You yelped.
“You just flashed the doctor your dick!” Natasha added, smacking him.
“I did not!” He said pulling his pants back on.
“Yeah, you kinda did.” She said pinching the bridge of her nose. She went to the cabinet and unlocked it, taking out a few bottles. “Make sure he takes these. No, more than eight a day.”
You nodded taking them from her. “Thanks, doc.”
“Try and stay out of here for a week, would you? I’d really appreciate it.” She said.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” Natasha said patting her on the shoulder.
Clint slung his arms around yours and Natasha’s shoulders. “Now I think there was some follow-through promised.” He said.
Natasha sighed and kissed his cheek. Maybe this was like a second home, but it would be a lot better to be in your actual one.
#clint barton#natasha romanoff#clintasha#clint barton x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#clint barton x natasha romanoff#clint barton x natasha romanoff x reader#clintasha x reader#hawkeye#black widow#hawkeye fanfic#black widow fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#reader insert#fluff#second home
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