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thetravelerwrites · 4 years ago

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Alexei (Satyr) Part 1

Rating: Mature Relationships: Female Human/Male Satyr Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Satyr, Arranged Marriage, Fake Marriage, Strangers to Lovers, Reader Insert Words: 5834

A commission for @thebimess! A woman escaping an arranged marriage proposes an unusual agreement with a man she just met: marry her for six months to get out of the marriage contract. Please reblog and leave feedback!

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Being on the road was rather terrifying for a woman traveling on her own, but you weren’t wavering in your intent. You had to get to Dunmountain and disappear. You didn’t care if you lived in a hovel shoveling shit for a living, you weren’t marrying that man. Not in a million years.

A few days on the road sleeping rough hadn’t done much to deter you, though it was cold and uncomfortable. You managed to get to Chesterfield long enough to buy road provisions and get rid of your old clothes, but you didn’t want to stay there too long. You didn’t know if they’d have people out looking for you.

You ached for a bath and a bed. You didn’t realize how much you’d taken being clean and comfortable for granted. And it looked like rain tonight. You figured the horses wouldn’t mind a bunk mate.

As you were coming around to go into the stables, it began to rain rather hard. As you ducked in, the stablehand shouted at you.

“Oy! Get out of here! No homeless wenches sleeping in here for free. Go get a room or sleep in a gutter!”

“Oh, but sir--”

“No buts! Out with you!”

You had no choice but to duck back out of the stable and into the pouring rain. You went around the back, praying that there was a cart you could sleep under.

Instead of a cart, there was a lovely lavender vardo parked there. The front and rear doors were locked, but there was a window. It was small, but you thought you could squeeze through. And if you got stuck, at least half of you would be dry.

The shutters had a latch on the inside, but it was easy enough to open with a hair stick. Using the wheel as a boost, you threw your bag inside and jumped up. Getting your shoulders through was the hardest part, and your hips were a bit of a struggle, but finally you fell to the floor of the vardo like a spilled sack of potatoes. Slightly bruised, you re-latched the shutter windows and looked around.

It was fairly neat and tidy, looking a bit larger on the inside that it did on the outside, with things secured safely to the walls and inside trunks. The walls had beautiful filigree scrolling all the way up and the roof had a lovely fresco of a countryside near a body of water, the field full of flowers. There were things that hung along the ceiling, making gentle jingling noises as the vardo moved.

There was a small cot latched up against the wall that would fold down. Wearily, you folded it down, pulled out your cloak, which was still dry in your bag, and laid it over the cot to prevent the wet from your clothes from seeping through, and settled down on it. You’d deal with the owner in the morning. If you weren’t arrested for trespassing, that is.

Once you were horizontal, you fell asleep immediately.

You were awakened rudely when you felt water being poured on your face. You sputtered and shielded your face, sitting up abruptly.

“Ah, the stowaway is awake at last,” You heard a masculine voice say. “Since you seem to have had a nice rest, you can get out now.”

You wiped the water out of your eyes and looked up. Standing there was a satyr with deep brown fur on his legs and tan skin. With his short, black horns jutting up just behind his hairline, you thought he might be only slightly shorter than you. He had hair the same dark color as his fur and bright blue eyes, a closely trimmed beard and mustache, and dimples you could see even with the beard. He wore no trousers, covered by his fur, but had on an off-white tunic and a buttoned-up brick red vest with gold embroidery. His cloven hooves were shiny black and dainty.

“I’m sorry,” You said, coughing and sniff the water out of your nose. “I’m sorry, I just needed a dry place to sleep.”

“And so you did,” He said, putting his water skin aside and folding his arms. “I’ve been on the road for hours now, and I didn’t know you were back here until I stopped for lunch. So, you’ve had your sleep. Get out.”

“Which way have you traveled?”

“I’m halfway to Red Landing,” He said.

“No!” You moaned, your head in your hands. “It took me so long to get to Chesterfield from Red Landing. That’s almost a full day backwards!”

“That’s not my problem,” He huffed. “You’re the one who trespassed in what is ostensibly my home.”

“Can I pay you to take me back to Chesterfield? I’ll give you ten gold. That has to be enough to ferry me for a few hours.”

He sighed sharply. “I mean… I guess? I don’t owe you any favors, you know.”

“No, I know,” You replied, fishing around in your bag. “Here,” You pressed ten coins into his hand. “It’s not much for inconveniencing you, I know, but I don’t have much as it is.”

He bounced the coins in his hand, frowning down at them.

“What’s so important in Chesterfield?” He asked.

“I’m not going to Chesterfield, I’m going to Dunmountain,” You replied. “Do you really care why?”

He snorted. “I guess not. Fine, fine. You’ve already taken up too much of my time, I might as well get paid for it.” He snatched up your bag and began looking through it.

“Hey!” You said, grabbing the bag back. “What are you doing?”

“I’m making sure you didn’t steal anything of mine while you were in here,” He retorted. “Let me see or I’ll dump you off right here.”

You scoffed, but held open your bag so that he could see inside, refusing to let it go. He shuffled things around and you waited anxiously until he was satisfied and straightened up.

“You’re not riding in here,” He said. “Get up in the driver’s box. I want to be able to watch you.”

“Alright,” You said, standing and following him out of the back of the vardo and led you to the front. “What’s your name?”

“You don’t need to know my name and I don’t need to know yours,” He said, vaulting up and not offering his hand. You were forced to clamor up the opposite side. “Once we get to Chesterfield, I expect to never see you again.”

“Fair enough,” You said, hunkering down in the driver’s box, sitting as far away from him as you could, and fell silent as the carriage lurched forward.

He pulled out a small bag of puffed grains and dried fruits and began to munch on them as the vardo trundled on, the lone mule’s head bobbing up and down as it took each step. You took out a small amount of hard cheese and nibbled on it.

“I’ll trade you a bite of cheese for a handful of your trail snacks,” You told him.

He shrugged. “Sure,” He replied, taking the morsel of cheese you offered him and pouring some of the grains and fruits in your palm.

“What were you going to Red Landing for?” You asked him.

He looked at you sidelong before answering. “I was going to buy some shells to make paint.”

“Are you a painter?” You asked.

“Yes,” He replied.

“Did you do the scrollwork and the fresco in the vardo?”

“I did.”

“Wow,” You replied, impressed. “It’s really good work. I mean, I’m not an expert, but I enjoyed it very much.”

“I don’t know what weight the praise of a trespasser might carry, but thank you all the same.”

You bristled. “I said I was sorry. And I’ve paid you. There’s no reason to be rude.”

That effectively killed conversation and your appetite. You put your food back in your bag and sat still and quiet, staring at the trees as they passed.

After an hour, the vardo stopped, and you looked at the satyr for the first time since his quip.

“Why have we stopped?” You asked.

“Shh,” He replied. “Listen. Do you hear that?”

You strained your hearing. “I just hear birds and the trees rustling.”

“Stay here,” He said, throwing down the reins and jumping down. “If you run off with my stuff, I’ll hunt you down.”

“I’m not going to run off, relax,” You said in annoyance.

He sniffed and walked into the trees and out of sight. You waited nervously for him to return, clutching your bag against your body, until eventually you heard a sniffling and whimpering. The satyr emerged from the trees carrying what you thought was a dog at first, but on closer inspection, it was wearing a shirt and pants.

“Oh, my goodness!” You cried, putting down your bag and hopping down. “Are you alright, little one!”

He whined much like a puppy. You reached from him, and he crawled into your arms, hiding his snout in your hair.

“I haven’t been able to get much out of him,” The satyr said. “But I remember the sheriff in Willowridge is a gnoll and has a couple of young sons. The crossroads to Willowridge is nearby. We may be making a detour.”

“That’s just fine, isn’t it?” You cooed to the little gnoll boy. “That’s no problem, eh? Let’s get you home, sweet pea. I’ve got some jerky in my bag. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah,” The boy said watery.

“Alright, sweetie pie, let’s get you some food, then.” You popped back up into the driver’s box with the boy clinging to you like a baby possum. The satyr got back up and snapped the reins, pushing the mule to movement.

After he ate, he seemed a bit more calm, and you were able to get him to talk to you. You learned that his name was Declan and he was indeed the youngest son of Willowridge’s sheriff, Feera. He was three years old and apparently a sleepwalker, having woken up in the forest a little while before the satyr heard him crying. How he managed to cross so much land in his sleep was unimaginable, but at least he was heading home now.

It didn’t take long for him to become rambunctious, and the satyr pulled Declan into his lap and let him take the reins. Declan squealed happily as he wiggled the reins back and forth. The mule was patient and didn’t take off when he felt the slapping on his back.

After a while, he fell asleep in the satyr’s arms. The satyr cradled him while still keeping a firm hand on the reins.

“You’re good with kids,” You remarked.

He shrugged. “I grew up around a bunch of kids, so I’m used to handling them.”

“Do you have a lot of younger siblings?”

“Something like that,” He replied.

As you rounded the bend, Willowridge came into view. You’d only been there once when you were ten when your father was still a builder. He’d retired from construction just afterward.

“Hey, Declan!” You said, tickling him awake. “Look, you’re home!”

Declan woke up in the satyr’s arms and looked around, his ears perking up. He yipped excitedly.

“Oy!” The satyr called out. “Anyone missing a kid?”

“Oh, thank goodness!” An older woman said, running out from a nearby trail. She was wearing trousers and had long brown hair with wisps of white in it. “Where have you been, you naughty thing! We’ve been looking for you everywhere! You come to Gramma right this instant!” She took the little boy from the satyr’s arms and hugged him tight. She turned and called to a large centaur that was next to her. “Can you go and fetch Eris and Feera?”

“Yes, Mama,” He said, and he dashed off with a flick of his tail.

“Thank you two so much,” She said, reaching up to shake your hand.

“Oh, it was all him,” You said. “He heard Declan crying in the forest.”

“Keen hearing,” The satyr said, flicking his long ears. “Alexei, pleasure to meet you, madam.” You introduced yourself as well.

“My name is Ryel. Let me buy you folks dinner and a bed for the evening. It’s the least I can do. Who knows what might have happened to Declan if you two hadn’t found him.

As you were about to answer, a large gnoll and a woman with a river of golden hair flying behind her sprinted toward you. The gnoll was on all fours and much faster than the woman, who was clutching her skirts in her fists so she didn’t trip on them as she ran. Running at her side was another gnoll child, slightly bigger than Declan.

“Declan!” The gnoll cried out, and Ryel handed the boy off to his father as soon as he skidded to a stop and reared up on his hind legs. “By the gods, son, you scared the life out of me!”

The woman, Eris, stopped next to her husband, her face wet with tears, and she took the boy without a word, squeezing him tight and crying silently. Feera encircled both of them in his arms and held them for a moment. The other gnoll boy stood with his grandmother, holding her hand and biting at one of his claws in wide-eyed confusion.

After a moment, Feera let go of his wife and approached you.

“Thank you, strangers,” He said, reaching up to shake your hands like his mother had.

“It’s my pleasure, sir,” Alexei replied, shaking firmly.

“Please, let me buy the two of you a drink,” Feera said, waving over a stable boy from the nearby tavern. “We’ll take your mule and cart and make sure they’re both taken care of. Are you folks hungry?”

The family ushered you and Alexei into the inn and sat you down at a table, ordering ale and a meal for everyone. Eris had a firm grip on her youngest son and an arm around her oldest. Declan now seemed to be completely over his sojourn into the woods by himself, though his parents still seemed slightly traumatized by it.

“That’s the farthest he’s ever gone,” Eris said. She was a taciturn woman who didn’t smile much, which made her appear rather stern. “We’re usually good about keeping everything locked up tight. I still don’t know how he got out. We’ve even nailed the windows closed.”

“Who knows?” Feera said, rubbing his wife’s back soothingly. “He could have shimmied out of the slats in the attic. Looks like I’ll have to nail that shut too.”

“Here you go, dearies,” The innkeeper said, laying a key on the table. “Here’s your room for the night. The bed is nice and big, so you’ll both be comfortable.”

“Oh,” Alexei said. “No, we’re not together. I was giving her a ride. I hadn’t met her before today.”

“Oh,” The innkeeper said, dismayed. “I’m afraid I only have the one room available right now.”

“That’s alright, we’ll take it. Thank you for your generosity,” You said, taking the key and smiling. In an undertone, you said to Alexei, “It’s fine, I’ll sleep on the floor, it’s no big deal.”

He grimaced but said nothing.

That night, you unrolled your bedroll and got ready to lay down. He had taken the bed, since you offered it, and was already half asleep. He had taken off his vest but left his tunic on. You stared at him thoughtfully, debating with yourself.

“Alexei,” You called.

He snorted and opened his eyes, looking over at you blearily. “What?”

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“What is it? I’m trying to sleep.”

“Would you marry me?”

His eyes shot open and he stared at the ceiling for a full minute before sitting up to glare at you.

“What?”

“Look, I know it’s a weird thing to ask--”

“It’s a crazy thing to ask!”

“Can I just explain myself before you think I’m crazy?”

“It’s too late for that, but please, go ahead.” He sat with his legs dangling over the edge of the bed and his hands clasped in his lap, looking at you expectantly.

“I’m escaping an arranged marriage,” You began bluntly. “I was only told of the engagement three days prior to leaving home. I met him at a dinner the night before what was to be our wedding day for the first time. You could not imagine a more boorish, rude, inept man.”

“I bet I could.”

You snorted. “He did nothing but drink wine during the dinner, leering at both me and the serving staff and making rather unseemly comments about my face and body, considering he’d only just met me. His parents just shushed him, but in a dismissive, boys-will-be-boys kind of way that made me want to tear my hair out.”

“When was this whole thing set up?”

“I’d apparently been promised to him since I was five years old. His family is rich from textile money, but they have a less that immaculate reputation. His parents need the respectability that my family’s name offers in order to regain many of their clients and trade routes.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s the son’s, my so-called husband-to-be’s, fault. I learned through conversation with his parents that he didn’t work in his family business at all and traveled quite often on his parent’s dime. After they had gotten rather drunk, his parents admitted that he had already fathered two children out of wedlock that they knew of.”

His head rocked back. “That’s concerning. Are your parents still on board with the wedding?”

“Yes. Part of the deal is a large investment from my fiance’s parents; my parents need the money to retire.”

“So you decided to escape in the middle of the night, is that it?”

You nodded. “Thankfully, my parents hadn’t paid the officiant yet, and therefore the wedding hadn’t been formally recorded with the county as a done-deal, so I decided to leave until the contract ran its course. I knew where my parents kept their money and only took what I thought I would need to get to Dunmountain. They aren’t exactly rich, after all, just well-respected. I plan to pay them back at some point. I just pray they understand.”

“So, you’re asking me to marry you to get out of the engagement?”

“Yes,” You said. “The contract is void if I turn twenty five before the wedding or if I have been married to someone else for a minimum of six months with verifiable proof. Meaning I have to have both my husband and the marriage certificate in hand and meet with a mediator to authenticate it. And since twenty five is three years away, the only hope I have of freedom is to marry someone else.”

He folded his arms. “And exactly what do I get out of this? Six months is a long time to be stuck with a stranger, you know.”

“I know. I’ll give you every penny I have. Wherever we end up, I’ll pick up jobs. I’ll pay for everything. I’ll cook and clean. You won’t have to lift a finger. I’ll do whatever I can to make this as painless for you as possible, and then when it’s over, we can have the marriage annulled and you never have to see me again.”

He considered you for a long moment, chewing his lip.

“I know it’s sudden and out of the blue,” You continued. “But I’m desperate and willing to put my trust, and money, in a stranger.”

He sighed and raked his fingers through his beard. “Look, give me a day to consider it. This is a lot for me to process.”

“Alright,” You said. “Thank you for even entertaining the idea. I haven’t done much to endear myself to you, so I appreciate that you didn’t turn me down outright.”

He flopped back down on the bed. “Go to sleep.”

“You still don’t know my name,” You said, lying down.

“If I accept, you can tell me. Just go to sleep. Or don’t, I don’t care.” He rolled over toward the wall, facing away from you, clearly indicating the conversation was over. You covered yourself with your cloak, your thoughts in a roil, and eventually fell into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning, Alexei was gone. After a moment of panic, you packed up your things and rushed downstairs, hoping to ask after him, only to find him sitting and eating breakfast. He looked up when you came stumbling down, but made no gesture of greeting, simply continued to eat. You almost went to go sit with him, but thought, why? You don’t know him, after all. Instead, you went to sit at the bar.

“Getcha anythin’, darlin’?” The barmaid asked. She had a friendly north-eastern Scottish accent.

“You folks offer a breakfast plate or something like that?” You asked.

“Sure do. Mulled cider to go with?”

“Sounds great, thank you.”

She went off to get your food and drink and you sat there, feeling anxious.

“Pardon me,” A voice said to your right. It was Eris, the young mother of the gnoll child. Despite her somber face, she was actually rather lovely when she wasn’t crying.

“Oh, yes, ma’am, what can I do for you?”

“Take this, please,” She said, holding out a small drawstring sack. “It’s not much, but I wouldn’t feel right if you walked away with no reward for what you did for my family.”

“Oh, ma’am, no, you don’t have to do this,” You protested, but she held up a hand to stop you.

“Please, it would mean a lot to me. I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to him,” She said. She scratched her neck self-consciously. Though she wore a high collared dress, you could see a scar peeking out of the neckline.

“Really, Alexei should get this, he’s the one who found him,” You told her.

“He’s already been given his share,” She said. “Take it, please.”

You smiled and sighed. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” Her normally reserved, neutral expression lightened into a smile. “I hope we meet again.” And she took her leave.

The barmaid laid a plate of scrambled eggs and a fried potato hash in front of you along with a large tankard of cider.

You’d eaten half of it when Alexei sidled up and sat on the stool next to you. He didn’t look at you, but set his tankard in front of him and flagged down the barmaid, who refilled it.

“Do you get on with your folks? Are they good parents?”

“Yeah,” You replied, stunned by the sudden question. “They’re nice parents, they’ve never been cruel to me. I supposed I’m closer to my mother than my father, but we all get along well. I’ve never had to doubt if they loved me, if that’s what you mean.”

“But they’re okay with you marrying this pissant, though?”

You sighed. “Their marriage was arranged, and they were fine with it. I suppose they think that my fiance, Gregory, will settle down when we marry, but I doubt it. I don’t see how being married to a stranger is supposed to make someone like him straighten up.” You set down your fork and leaned your elbows on the bar. “Besides, even good parents may not always do what’s best for their kids. Sometimes they do what’s best for themselves. They’re just as capable of being selfish at the expense of others as any other person can be.” You took a gulp of cider and blew out a breath of frustration.

“Do you hate them?”

“No,” You said slowly. “I’m angry at them, but that doesn’t mean I hate them.”

He took a drink and huffed. “It’s all so confusing.”

“How do you mean?” You asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing. What were you going to do once you got to Dunmountain?”

“Hide. Get a job somewhere, anywhere. Sleep in a shed, if I have to. Lie low until I turned twenty five. Maybe go back when the contract runs out. Maybe.”

“You don’t want to see your parents again?”

“It’s not that,” You said, poking at your food. “I didn’t want to leave in the first place. If it wasn’t for the engagement, I wouldn’t have had to. I don’t know what they’ll do if I ever go back. Maybe they’ll disown me. Maybe they’ll force me to work or write up another marriage contract with Gregory or someone else to get the money they need. I don’t know.”

“Don’t you have a say?”

You scoffed. “Of course not. Women are the property of their fathers until they get married, and then they’re the property of their husbands. Property doesn’t get a say.”

He was silent for a long time, every so often reaching over to pick an onion off of your plate.

“I guess I just have one thing left to ask you, then,” He said.

“Which is?”

He turned to you and clicked his tongue. “What’s your name, pet?”

The two of you left Willowridge heading for Dunmountain, stopping for a few days in Chesterfield to have a quick courthouse wedding. He managed to find a simple iron ring in his belongings to use as a wedding band. After the wedding, you gave him half of your money, telling him he’d get the other half after the annulment.

Once in Dunmountain, you left Alexei to handle the mule and vardo, and immediately began to look for work. The bathhouses were your best bet; there was always laundry that needed doing.

You also found a small apartment at an inn made up of a single room with a fireplace one could cook over. It wasn’t furnished with anything, not even a bed, but you figured you could make do with a bedroll and a simple table and chairs. You paid the rent for the next month and got the keys, rushing back to Alexei to tell him where you’d be living.

He drove you back to the apartment on his carriage, and the two of you began hauling your belongings up the stairs to your room.

“I’ll buy furnishings tomorrow,” You told him. “We’re not staying here long, so we won’t need much.”

“Didn’t you say you’d see to my every comfort?” He teased. “I want a canopy bed with feather down and a lounging sofa and--”

You shushed him. “I said I’d cook and clean and pay the necessary expenses. You want anything else, you can pay for it yourself.”

He chuckled. “Did you find a job?”

“I start at the bathhouse adjacent to the inn in two days. I’ll leave you food for the day and cook when I get home. That’ll have to do.” You opened the door to the room and stepped inside. “I have enough provisions to make a simple stew, unless you’d like something else.”

“Stew sounds fine,” He said, setting down a small trunk. “I think I’ll go out tomorrow and look for paint supplies. I sold all of my paintings on my trip and I need to create some new ones. If I go too long without painting, I get irritable.”

“I’d hate to see what that looks like,” You said snidely. The only thing in the room provided by the inn was a bucket for drawing water from the nearby fountain. “I’ll fetch some water for dinner.”

A few months passed awkwardly but uneventfully. Alexei was companionable enough, but the two of you hadn’t made any attempts to bond or become close. You exchanged passing pleasantries, but the two of you didn’t converse much. He sometimes teased you by asking if your “wifely duties” extended to sharing the marital bed, seeing as how your bedrolls had been placed on opposite sides of the room. You merely smacked his backside with a hand towel and told him to get back to his paintings.

“Would you ever consider sitting for a painting, pet?” He asked you once as you were cleaning dishes.

You snorted. “I expected you’d want me to model nude for you or some nonsense.”

He laughed. “Only if that’s what you’d like, dear wife of mine.”

“Don’t call me that,” You said, lobbing a crumb of bread at his head. He didn’t duck, just let it hit him and caught it, popping it in his mouth. “And I will do no such thing.”

“Offer is open, if you ever change your mind.”

“If the earth opened and the devil himself ordered me to do it, I’d still refuse.”

Alexei laughed full-throated. “That’d be a sight worth seeing.”

As annoying as he could be, he wasn’t an unpleasant man to live with. He didn’t do any of the washing or cooking, but you didn’t care since you promised to do it yourself. Even still, he was fairly tidy and didn’t make much of a mess. He liked to joke and tease, but he was mostly harmless. For all his teasing, he never once made a move on you or gave you any reason to fear he might take advantage of you.

You also had to admit, he was very talented. He sold his paintings just as fast as he made them, which was a little bit of a shame, you thought: your room was a little plain and dour, and you’d have liked one or two of them to hang on the wall to brighten the place up. You never asked, though. You couldn’t go asking for favors from the man who’d already promised six months of his life to you.

On your birthday, you got permission to finish work early and decided to go and buy the ingredients to make an apple and honey pot pie to go with dinner that night. Since you didn’t have a stove, you’d have to bake it in a pan over the fire, but you knew how to do it. It was one of the first treats your mother had ever taught you to make.

Apples were in season and would be cheap enough--the cheapest of the fruits available anyway--but honey would be quite expensive. A single spoonful cost several days worth of work. But you figured, you’d been working hard. You’d earned it.

When you arrived back at the apartment, he stood up from his painting stool to take your shopping basket.

“Is that honey I smell?” He said, sniffing. “That’s pricey. What’s the occasion, pet?”

“It’s my birthday,” You told him. “I was going to make a pie.”

“Is it!” He said, smiling. “That certainly is reason for celebration. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It’s not like we have regular conversations, you know,” You said, unpacking the shopping. “Besides, I didn’t think it would matter to you.”

“Well, that’s a bit unfair,” He said, frowning. “Are we not friends?”

“Are we?” You asked, stopping to quirk an eyebrow at him. “Out of the way, please. I need to start the crust now or I’ll be cooking all night.”

He frowned at you still but said nothing, taking two steps back so you could bustle about making dinner.

“What would you want as a gift?” He asked, leaning against the wall and watching you work.

“I don’t want anything,” You replied, not looking up. “If I did, I’d get it myself.”

“Oh, come now,” He said, tsking. “You may not think of us as friends, but after four months, I would assume we’d have developed some kind of rapport. What would you ask of a friend?”

“I wouldn’t ask anything of a friend,” You said. “I’m not the type of person who expects gifts.”

“Didn’t your parents ever give you gifts?”

“That’s different, they’re my parents.”

“Family, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’m family now, aren’t I?” He asked.

“I will throw a plate at you.”

“Just tell me,” He said, his voice a little wheedling. “There must be one thing I can get you that you’d allow.”

You sighed forcefully and stopped kneading the dough, turning to him and looking him up and down. “Are you serious about this?”

“Have you ever known me not to be serious?” He asked, grinning.

You rolled your eyes and when back to work, and he stuttered a retraction.

“No, no, I am, I’m serious. Please, tell me, what would you like?”

You stopped again and wiped your hands on your apron, and then crossed them over your chest. “Well… I’d like a painting.”

He looked like you’d hit him in the head with your baking pan. “What?”

“It doesn’t have to be anything grand, just a little painting of anything, flowers or trees or something like that, to brighten up the room. It’s a bit drab here.” You waved around vaguely. “There isn’t even a window. Just… some color. That’s all.”

“You want me to paint for you?” He asked, incredulous. “That’s all?”

“Well… I know painting supplies are expensive and I didn’t want to ask for anything, seeing as I promised to take care of everything myself. Like I said, I’m not the type to expect presents or things like that.”

“You don’t like to ask for things for yourself, do you, pet?” He asked shrewdly. “Not just from me, huh? In general.”

You turned your back to him and started kneading again. “My parents were both born peasants. Peasants don’t get gifts. When they married, they lived in a one-room cruck house that my father built them as a wedding gift. A house of straw and dirt was all my father could offer my mother, and it was good enough. They both worked their hands to the bone to get where they are. They live in a much nicer house now and don’t have to work as hard as they used to, but they raised me to appreciate what I could do with my own hands and not to rely on gifts. ‘A gift is never free,’ they’d always say.” You stopped working again and stared at your hands. “They used to tell me that I was ‘a gift’ to them. I wonder now if that meant they always saw me as a means to an end.”

“I always thought parents were supposed to put their children above everything else,” He said softly from behind you, continuing to watch you.

“Is that what your parents were like?” You asked in return. He didn’t answer and you looked over your shoulder at him.

“I wouldn’t know,” He said eventually, sitting down at the table and taking an apple from the basket. “Never met them. I grew up in an orphanage.” He took a knife from his pocket and began to peel and slice the apples.

“You know you don’t have to do that,” You remarked.

“Hush,” He said, not looking at you. “It’s your birthday.”

Dinner was pleasant, and the pie was delicious. There was enough left over to to have for breakfast the next morning. Alexei even helped you tidy up. The day had been rather nice.

So why, when you lay down for bed, did it suddenly feel like you couldn’t breathe?

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider becoming a Patron or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

#Exophilia #Monster Boyfriend #Satyr #Arranged Marriage #Fake Marriage #Reader Insert #Strangers to Lovers

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anonymousfiction211 · 3 years ago

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Handcuffed together: 15

A/N: The story continues. I had a wedding on friday, so a day later than planned :) Hope you like it. Let me know what you think :)

Moving on? The seconds passed by slowly from the moment Loki left you, again. The seconds turned into minutes, hours, days, weeks and eventually months. The first few days you were angry, waiting for Thor to come back so you could yell at him about Loki. But Thor never came back, at first you were angry about that too. But Natasha reminded you that Thor probably had other duties to perform in Asgard and that you couldn’t hold him accountable for his brother’s actions. True.

When you heard nothing, you became sad and depressed. You had thought that Loki would have checked in, maybe leave a message in time. But nothing. It was like he and your entire relationship had never happened. It started with you only dressing in lounge clothes. You stopped hanging out with the team, and were mostly in your room watching tv. You didn’t spend any time on your other hobby’s. Eventually Steve was forced to put you on a break, meaning you didn’t actively take part in the team or go on missions. It took five long months, but that was the moment you decided you were done. You needed to be yourself again.

‘Morning (Y/N), you are up early today? And even dressed in normal clothing?’ Natasha greeted you surprised.

‘Yeah.. thanks Nat’ you replied a bit grumpily. ‘Look, I’m done being lonely and I want to help again. Do you know where I can find Steve?’

‘Good to see you finally coming to terms with everything. Once you are fully over him, we can go out together and snatch you up a better guy’ she winked at you. ‘I think Steve is in the briefing room’

‘Thanks… maybe in a month or two’ you said. Leaving her to find Steve.

Natasha was right, you found him in the briefing room. You knocked on the door and he told you to enter.

‘Hey, (Y/N)’ he said surprised, clearly not expecting you.

‘Hi’ you said a bit sheepishly. ‘Can we talk for a moment?’

‘Of course, take a seat. You are looking good. How are you doing?’ he asked.

‘Better.. I ehm.. actually, wanted to apologize for my absence and the mood I have been in and –

‘(Y/N), don’t worry. It was all completely understandable’ Steve cut you off.

‘Still..’ you said.

The room was silent for a moment. ‘I’m just glad you are doing better. Plus, we already agreed as a team that if we ever see Loki again, let’s say it’s best if he doesn’t show his face around here anymore’

‘Thanks’ you forced a small giggle. ‘I think it’s time to pick up my life and I wanted to talk about the leave you put me on’ you started.

‘You want to come back?’ Steve asked.

‘Yes, I think it is best to have a certain rhythm and get back in the groove, don’t you think?’

‘As much as I love to have you fully back, it isn’t that easy actually’ Steve hesitatingly started.

‘What do you mean?’ you stomach started to tie itself in knots.

‘You need to be re-evaluated, before you can fully join. I mean, you can help us in the meantime. But not actively participate on missions before you are cleared again’ he started to explain.

‘How much time will it take?’

‘The re-evaluation consists of two steps. The first step is a physical test to see what level you are on now. And after that there is a mentality test, to see if you are in the right mind set to function on missions. If you pass straight away you can join next week. But I have to be honest, you were pretty out of it and missed a lot of training So, I think it will be a month or three. But like I said, there is still plenty you can help us with, without actively join the missions’

‘Oh’ you said a bit disappointed. ‘But can’t we just skip it? I’m fine now, and I really want to be back on the team’

‘(Y/N), that’s not how it works’ Steve sighed.

‘Please? I need this’ you begged.

‘Answer one question for me: if we are in the middle of the battle with Thanos, and suddenly Loki appears. What will you do?’

‘I eh.. I..’ you stammered, to be honest you still didn’t know what you would do.

‘Exactly. As much as we love you, it is important to go through these test. We need to be able to trust each other blindly. And as long as you do not have the right answer immediately to that question, we can’t. I’m sorry’ he said.

‘I understand’ you said softly, trying not to break down. That surely wouldn’t help your case.

‘I’m sorry. If you feel up for it, I will start up the whole process. But if you need more time, then take all the time you need. I’m already super glad that you are doing better’ he said.

‘Thanks Steve, ehm.. start it up. And what can I do in the meantime?’ you asked.

‘I will catch you up’ he said.

Then Steve started to explain what the team had been doing the past months. They had tracked a guy down, named dr. Strange. Apparently he was a bit like Tony. He also possessed an infinity stone, and they told him everything that Loki had told them. Thor would hopefully be back soon, and than they would no more about how Loki was doing and if he knew where Thanos was hiding. In the meantime, dr. Strange had tracked down another stone on a planet by someone called ‘the collector’. Apparently Asgard had given them the reality stone for safe keeping. Dr. Strange had set up a meeting and would try to come back with the stone. The plan was to collect the stones before Thanos and then imprison him with them, so he couldn’t go through with his plan. Kill him if necessary.

‘So, if you could drop of these documents at the sanctuary, that would be really helpful’ Steve said lastly.

‘Am I supposed to be everyone’s assistant until I’m cleared?’ you snapped

‘You’re no-one’s assistant. But this is the only task I can give you at the moment. This and ask for an update on his work, it really would help’

After some back and forth you reluctantly agreed to go to the sanctuary. Before that Steve had called everyone to the kitchen for a cup of coffee and tell them that you are working on joining the team again. To your relief everyone was supportive and seemed glad that you were doing better.

That afternoon you walked to the sanctuary with the documents. Wondering if you would get to meet dr. Strange and what he was really like.

‘And you are?’ he said answering the door you just knocked on.

‘I’m (Y/N) from the Avengers, here to deliver some documents you needed and to ask how your progress is’ you answered politely.

‘Ah, so you are the one sleeping with the enemy’ he joked.

After seeing your not-amused-face he cleared his throat and invited you into the sanctum. He told you about what this place was and who he was. He had actually an appointment with the collector in an hour, just to meet up. He didn’t expect that he would be able to get the stone on the first try.

‘If you really want to help, you could actually tell me about Loki’ he said.

‘I don’t want to talk about it’ you said.

‘Look, I have reason to believe that Loki has already been to the collector. And I know very little about the guy. Maybe you can interpret some of his actions for me?’ he asked.

You sighed heavily. ‘I’m not able to explain every choice he made. But if he has been there you can ask me when you return’ you said bitterly.

‘Or… you could come with?’ dr. Strange proposed.

‘I can’t. I’m not supposed to join missions. I’m on leave with the Avengers and need to be re-evaluated first’ you explained.

‘But I’m not with the Avengers. So, technically I’m hiring you as a free-lancer. So, are you coming with me? Could be helpful?’ he tried to persuade you.

‘I can’t. If the team finds out..’

‘I promise I won’t tell them. If Loki has really been there, aren’t you curious to what he is up to?’ dr. Strange cocked one of his eyebrows.

That argument convinced you. Besides, it was one conversation with some guy you would attend. It really wasn’t a mission, right? What could go wrong?

At the collector Dr. Strange, who said to call him Steven, opened a portal and the two of you went through. The collector was a peculiar being, his assistant also. He and Steven were talking about the stone and Thanos, while you walked behind them besides the assistant. Walking through the collection of the collector you saw some amazing things. It did disturb you that there were living beings held captive here, even after the collector assured you that it was fine. You were drawn back into the conversation when you heard Loki’s name.

‘Yes, he has been here’ the collector answered. ‘What did he ask you? What did he want? When did he leave?’ Steven asked.

‘Ah, a lot. Quite the mischievous guy, but that is to be expected I suppose. Unfortunately for him, someone else already had required my services’ that made everyone stop walking.

‘What do you mean?’ Steve asked.‘Well, to answer you earlier question, he is still here. Now Carina’ the collector said.

Before you knew what was happening someone grabbed you and you felt a sharp needle in your neck. Steven looked shocked. You wanted to scream but every muscle in your body went limb. Your eyes felt heavy and you vision started to blur. Was the building tilting sidewards? Or were you falling? The last thing you heard was laughter and you saw Steven’s sparkling magic, and then it went black.

Some time later Your head was pounding, and your mouth was dry. Still foggy you tried to open your eyes. There was a familiar voice saying something in the background. One of your hands was immobile. Recounting everything that happened you tried to sit up right and open your eyes. It took a moment for your vision to fully return and your hearing to improve. The first thing you noticed was that one of your hands was cuffed. The cuff was attached to another hand. Looking up, you saw him. ‘Good to see you again, kitten’ Loki smiled.

Permanent taglist: @delightfulheartdream @the-best-phineas @pescadoavocado @theestorm @theaudacitytowrite @justacripple

Story taglist: @l0nelyasian @mrsdarcyinlovewithbuckybarnes @ragweed98 @thehornytitties @oh-my-gerd @morganmofresh @saiyanstars @rahne85 @charistory @not-your-bitch @kamrynnnnn @kokinu09

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mqgriett · 4 years ago

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Wrecker- Proposals are hard

Requested by @night-writer-writer ! I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Wrecker x Reader

Warnings: none!

Summary: for months now Wrecker has been planning to propose and what could go wrong with the rest of the bad batch trying to help him?

Note: this was so much fun to write and I love my little squish Wrecker

“This one?” asked Tech for the tenth time today. He was steadily growing more and more irritated with his brother turning down every gemstone he held up.

The only other person more annoyed than Tech was the jeweler, who’s eyes were starting to shut as he waited on the large clone to choose a ring. Four out of the six Bad Batch members had been inside of the small store for at least five hours now, which was evident based on the fact that the sun had set a while ago.

Wrecker shook his head without even looking at the stone in Tech’s palm, eyes fixated on a gem that was seemingly floating in a case behind the counter.

Tech scoffed and gave the jewel back to the clerk, who reluctantly placed it back inside the case.

Crosshair made his way across the room, grabbing Wrecker’s shoulder and gently shaking him in an attempt to grab his attention. “I don’t know how much longer Echo’s gonna be able to distract ‘er, Wreck.” he said with a dry chuckle. When he didn’t answer Crosshair followed his brother’s gaze, looking in the direction of the case in the background.

A loud sigh traveled through the store as Hunter joined the rest of his comrades. He stared down at his hand, mindlessly pushing around all of the stones he had picked out. “Okay I’ve got a few red ones, a couple ‘a white, and some-” his eyes found the case that Wrecker was staring at and he couldn’t speak. “Nevermind.” he said definitively, letting the gems fall out of his grasp. The jeweler let out a frustrated and muffled groan, knowing he would have to clean that mess up.

Wrecker finally spoke, “That one. I want that one”

The clerk glanced over his shoulder and shook his head, “I’m afraid that one’s not for sale.”

“I’ll give ya’ three hundred credits for it.” Wrecker blurted subconsciously, slamming his palms on the glass counter. He tossed all the money he brought with him towards the worker, all without taking his eyes off the gem.

“That is a real kyber crystal from the caves of Ilum. It will be much more than three hundred credits.” responded the jeweler with a small laugh.

“How about five hundred?” Crosshair asked, folding his arms over his chest. He smirked at the clerk, willing to pitch in his own credits to help his brother and to see the face of the shop owner when they left the store with that stone. He set the credits next to Wrecker’s, popping a toothpick in his mouth after.

He shook his head, “I’m afraid that still would not be enough.”

Hunter narrowed his eyes, feeling the judgement seeping off of the jeweler. He dug through his own pocket, proudly setting another three hundred credits next to Crosshair and Wrecker’s.

“How about…” Tech’s voice trailed off as he approached the counter and counted the amount of money in his palm simultaneously, “one thousand two hundred fifty-seven credits and seventy-three cents.” he concluded proudly.

The shop owner stroked the small beard that grew on his face, thinking hard about his decision. He snatched the silver and gold bars off the counter and grumbled, “fine.”

Wrecker clapped his hands together, hugging his brothers so tightly that they physically needed to push themselves off of him. He excitedly repeated, “thank you,” over and over again as the jeweler carefully extracted the crystal from its case,

“She better say yes or you’re paying me back.” Crosshair muttered as they left the store, only half-joking.

***

Echo had been trying his best for the past five hours to distract you. For the first two you just played Sabacc, but then you started to ask him where everyone went.

You sat on the stairs of the Marauder, staring out into the dark night sky. “Echo, they’ve been gone for hours. They didn’t even say where they were going.” you said as he sat down next to you.

Echo scratched the back of his head nervously, “they’ll be back soon. You want to play another game ‘a Sabacc?” he offered.

You ignored his offer, growing more and more worried by the second. “Why are we even on Lothal?” you threw your arms in the air and shouted, “it’s deserted!” A few loth cats, who had most likely been sleeping, growled at the sound of your loud voice. It was late, well past 0600 when Wrecker said he would be back. “Try Hunter’s comm again, please.” you asked Echo.

“Just did, nothing.” he said, “hey how about some Sabacc?” he pointed behind him to the inside of the ship.

“Tech?”

“Nope, but we can watch your favorite holodrama.” Echo placed his arm on your back.

You sighed, “Wrecker?”

He shook his head, “no, how about we go mess up Hunter’s hair supplies, eh?”

“Crosshair?”

He chuckled, “he never answers his comms anyway.”

You hugged your knees to your chest, resting your chin atop them. “What if something happened to them?”

Echo laughed nervously, “They’re fine. Wrecker said they’d be back soon.”

“Yeah, at 0500. It’s 0815 now.” you mumbled. The more your mind raced the more horrible thoughts filled your head. Nothing good ever came from Lothal. This was where you had originally been found by the Bad Batch, where Wrecker had rescued you from a trap that Tarkin had set. Matter of fact, you weren’t too far from where that had all happened.

A tear streamed down your face as you buried your head in your knees, careful to not alert Echo.

Despite your efforts he noticed and scooted closer to you. He placed his hand on your back gently, not wanting to startle you . “I’m sure they’re gone for a good reason.”

You sniffed loudly, “today is our anniversary.”

“Who’s?” he asked, cocking his head to the side like a confused animal.

Your sleeve wiped under your nose, “Wrecker and I’s anniversary. It’s been two years. But he’s been so distant these past two weeks.” You combed your hair back with your fingers, sighing heavily, “I just hope he hasn’t lost interest.”

In that moment he considered telling you what Wrecker had been planning for the previous two months, but he knew he couldn’t without no-doubt receiving a verbal assault from the rest of the Bad Batch.

Echo desperately tried to hide his smile as he heard the sound of four speeders approaching, he acted as calmly as he could and tapped your shoulder to point you in the direction that he heard the noise.

You practically jumped down the other six stairs, sprinting immediately towards Wrecker as he took his helmet off and dismounted the speeder.

“Ner kar'ta!” he smiled, opening his arms up for you to hug him as you usually did when he returned from a mission.

You pushed him backwards, “it’s been five hours! You said one hour tops!”

Hunter stepped forward, “we got caught up-”

You quickly shut him down with a warning glare and began to pace back and forth, counting on your fingers after each sentence. “First, you refuse to tell me what planet we go to and all of you, besides Echo, ignore me for a week. Second, within an hour of landing you four take off on some mission without telling either of us where you’re going. Third, none of you answer your comms the entire time you’re gone. Lastly, today was our anniversary Wreck!”

He tried his best to interject, “Wait-”

You slapped the back of your right hand against the palm of your left, “If you’re going to leave for hours then please at least lie to me about where you’re going. You could have been dead!” You couldn’t hold the tears back anymore, allowing them to just to stream down your face and onto the dry dirt of Lothal.

“Cyar'ika-”

“I don’t mean to sound so overdramatic but I feel like you just don’t need me anymore.” You spun on your heels and began to walk towards the Marauder. Echo caught your shoulders and spun you back around to face your boyfriend of two years.

Your breath caught in your lungs, a pit forming at the bottom of your stomach as you faced Wrecker. He kneeled on one knee, a small ring in between his large fingers.

He spoke in an unusually small voice, hands trembling as held the ring, “I still love you, I promise.” Wrecker swallowed the ball in his throat, “will you marry me?” your name followed the question as he anxiously waited for your answer.

“Oh wow.” you gasped, “that why�� that’s why you…” you turned and faced Echo, “that’s why he…” Your head started to spin, “that’s why we’re on…” you stared down at endless planes of Lothal.

He shuffled forward on his knees, capturing your attention again with those big eyes of his.

“Yes.” You exhaled, lunging forward and wrapping your arms around his neck. He stood up and hugged you tightly, swaying you from side to side. Your feet dangled off the ground as he held you.

The other four Bad Batch members all simultaneously let out a breath they had been holding for the longest time. Tech and Crosshair were nearly purple, Echo and Hunter on the verge of fainting.

Wrecker gently slid the ring on your finger and the kyber crystal danced in the moonlight. The pale-blue color was beautiful, the mere thought of actually getting to marry the love of your life making you smile from ear to ear. You smothered your now-fiance in kisses, unable to take your eyes off of the ring.

“I’m sorry for not telling you. I messed up real bad on that.” he sighed, finally able to formulate sentences again.

Hunter scratched the back of his neck, “That, would have been my idea.” he said with a nervous chuckle. He was quick to defend himself, “but Cross suggested the shop we went to, that’s why it took so long.”

“Oh please,” retaliated Crosshair, “Tech is the one who suggested the two-month planning.”

“And all four of you made me stay back here to play over fourty games of Sabacc with Echo.” you said sarcastically.

Echo’s eyebrows furrowed, “I thought you liked Sabacc.”

#clone trooper wrecker #wrecker #bad batch #clone force 99 #clonetrooper #clone trooper echo #clone trooper crosshair #clone trooper hunter #clone trooper tech #starwars #clone wars #wrecker is a bean who must be protected #wrecker x reader

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 4 years ago

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Don’t Treat My Love Like a Habit Part Two

Part One | Next Part | Masterlist

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x Reader Rating: Mature (this may change) Warnings: Cursing

Notes: Set before the movie. Not beta-read. Reina is Spanish for Queen. Also I am not a native Spanish speaker, so I am sorry for any mistakes! *We’ll let you know what we think as soon as we can. **Make it quick, Garcia, we need to move on this.-- Don't let her sway you too hard, huh? ***Sweet dreams

Summary: Pope needed this. You could see it on his face.

“You alive?” Pope’s voice crackled over your phone. You grunted in return, and he laughed, knowing it was as close as he was getting to a yes. “We got a call from Diego, he wants us to look over plans for a bust. Hernandez has been spotted.” Well that sure as fuck woke you up. You sat up in bed, scrubbing at your eyes. “Wha’ time is it?” You mumbled. “Almost noon. Meet me at the office in an hour. Diego’s gonna come by, give us the run-down.” You nodded. “Okay. Okay, an hour,” You agreed. “I’ll bring coffee,” Pope added. “You fucking better,” You said before hanging up. --

Pope needed this. You could see it on his face. After Isabella had disappeared, he’d been kicking himself. You’d eased up on berating him, even if you would still find yourself seething about it from time to time. The last month had been spent digging into leads that you knew would take you nowhere. But this bust that Diego was laying out... You were trying not to interject, keeping your face carefully schooled into a neutral set as he laid it out for the two of you. He’d sent you files, layouts, pictures of Hernandez that seemed off -- too perfect, almost. You were trying to keep an open mind, but you smelled a rat.

“*Le haremos saber lo que pensamos tan pronto como podamos,” You heard Pope promising Diego to let him know what you thought as he led the man out. “**Hazlo rápido, García, tenemos que seguir adelante con esto. No dejes que ella te influya demasiado, ¿eh?” You watched Diego’s back, eyes narrowing as he told Pope not let you ‘sway him too hard’. You saw Pope’s head turn back toward you a bit. He knew that you spoke and understood more Spanish than you’d let on to the team that he worked with frequently. Had they already talked this out without you? Had Pope already made some kind of commitment to the plan? You sure as hell hoped not. You pulled up the most recent picture of Hernandez that Diego’s team had gotten, scrutinizing it. There was something wrong about it; you could feel it in the pit of your stomach. You reached out, pulling the printed layout of Hernandez’ last known location, and the proposed sight for the bust toward you for another look. The last bit of information that Isabella had given Pope was that Hernandez had an operation that he was trying to set up in Mocoa, in the Putumayo region near the mouth of the Amazon. What the hell would bring him to Suseca? The town was a little over an hour from Bogota-- that was an eleven hour drive from Mocoa-- "So? What do you think?” You looked up to see Pope standing in front of you. He was trying not look too eager, and you felt your stomach drop. Pope needed this. You couldn’t give it to him. -- ”You’re killing me here, Reina.” The words were muffled. You glanced over at Pope to find his head in his hands. He took a deep breath before he lifted his head. “Just...Tell my why it’s such a bad idea,” He requested. “C’mere,” You said, waving him around to your desk. He pushed himself out of his seat, rounding to your desk. He frowned at the negative, pixelated image he was faced with on your computer. “What am I looking at?” He asked, eyes sweeping the screen. “I put the image of Hernandez through forensic photo software. Think of a jpeg as ... the erosion of a shoreline. Every time a wave washes up on a beach, it removes some sand, it’s a loss. In that same way, every time you save a jpeg file, it loses data and quality from the original image. The more you save an image--” You waved toward Pope. “The less quality there’ll be,” Pope finished nodding, “So?” “So,” You turned back to the screen, “this software identifies any modified areas on an image. You have to think of each pixel on a jpeg as a single grain of sand-- each pixel is independently compressed, okay? So if a picture hasn’t been touched up or changed at all, every single one of these pixels should have the same error potential. Do you see,” You raised a pen, pointing to the chunked fragments of pixelation around Hernandez’s frame, “All of this? And look--” You pulled up another screen to tourist site for Suseca, showing the background. “I don’t think this is authentic.” “Or maybe he’s just in the same place, that doesn’t mean--” Pope started, and you turned on him, disbelieving. “I don’t know if you’re not reading me or if you’re choosing not to, but there is something wrong with this. And it’s not just the photograph, alright, it’s the whole fucking thing! Diego’s plan is way too loose,” You turned back to the print-out for emphasis and Santiago stepped away from your desk, “It makes no sense that Hernandez would just surface this far north-- After three months of radio silence? It makes no sense.” “People slip up--” Pope began to rationalize. “He doesn’t. If he did, he wouldn’t be so close to Lorea.” You leaned back in your seat, watching as Santiago paced back and forth in front of your desks. You weighed your words carefully for a moment before you said, “Santi... I know you wanna get this guy. I wanna get him, too. But not like this. Something is wrong here.” Santiago turned to look at you, conflict twisting his features. For a split-second, panic surged through you - you were sure Santiago was going to tell you that you were off-base, that this bust was going down with him anyway. He took a deep breath, fist clenching as he muttered, “Fuck.” He grabbed his phone off of the desk and turned away, heading for the door. “Where are you going?” You asked, half-rising out of your chair. “To tell Diego that I’m not in and that his intel sucks,” Pope snapped before slamming the door behind himself. You lowered yourself back into your seat, raking a hand through your hair. You glanced back at the photo of Hernandez, frowning. -- ”You still in the office?” Was Pope’s way of greeting you this time. “Uh-huh,” You confirmed, tacking on, “What’s up?” “Diego circled back with me. The bust went down-- It was a set-up,” Pope relayed, “He’s fine, but two of his guys are hurt pretty bad.” “Shit,” You hissed quietly, resting your head on your hand. You’d been hoping that what Pope had imparted to Diego would’ve been enough to stop him from going through with the bust, but you’d been wrong. “...Where do we go from here?” You asked. “Well, you go home,” Pope said, “And we go back to figuring it out tomorrow.” You rolled your eyes a little bit. “I’m almost done,” You grumbled defensively. Pope chuckled. “You’re never ‘almost done’,” He teased. He paused. “Thank you,” he added quietly. You smiled. “I should be thanking you for trusting me,” You argued. “Hey, you know your shit. That’s why I hired you,” Pope retorted. You chuckled. “Alright, lemme finish up here and I’ll... Eventually make it home.” “Yeesh,” Pope mumbled. You could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “Night, Santi,” You murmured. “***Dulces sueños, Reina.”

#Don't Treat My Love Like a Habit #santiago pope garcia #Santiago Pope Garcia x Reader #Santiago Garcia/Reader #Santiago Garcia x Reader #Santiago Garcia x You #Santiago Pope Garcia x You #Santiago Garcia #Santiago Garcia/You

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hollywoods-golden-age-imagines · 4 years ago

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Meeting and Dating Guy Gisborne

(My gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(I’m so sorry that it took so long!)

- You met Guy after you moved to Chicago. You were in need of a job and, after asking around, someone had pointed you in the direction of a few businesses that were in need of pretty female servers.

- Obviously, Guys place was included in this line up of shady businesses, and though his wasn’t the first one you’d visited, his was the only one to ...make an impression, so to speak.

- Prior to your arrival, Guy had refused to deal with any of his businesses hirings. Why would he? He had men to do that for him and he had better things to do than sit down with a bunch of dames.

- But boy oh boy, you walked through that door and his entire opinion of interviews was thrown out the window.

- One of his men stood up to take you into the interviewing room and Guy leapt up, patting the man back down into his seat and clearing the surprise from his face before he quickly interjected. He gave you a smile and an “of course, of course. Come along” as he lead you into his office.

- Once you were inside, he looked you up and down from all angles as you were distracted with taking a seat and placing your bag down. He was flirty from the start and a little ways into your interview, he made a comment along the lines of him not thinking you were right for the job.

- When you asked what he meant and if he didn’t think you were qualified, he was quick to explain himself, telling you “no, no, of course not” and that it was really the opposite, you were too qualified. He told you that “a dame like you should be on the silver screen, not wearing a silver skirt in some gambling joint”.

- You couldn’t help but smile at that although you held your ground, telling him that you were flattered but that you’d still like the job if he had no objections to it. He then asked “well, how about I go make some reservations and we’ll go have dinner and talk about it, eh?”. And because he’s handsome and charming in his own gruff way, you agree.

- So technically, you have your first date at a relatively upscale restaurant; he wanted to impress you so he pulled out all the stops. He asks you questions about yourself, steering things away from business to the point where there’s no question about the real reason you were invited to dinner; not that you were at all fooled from the beginning.

- As much as you’re enjoying his company, you still try to drive the conversation back to your job application. You subtly mentioned the upcoming bills for your new apartment and while it does little to shift his questioning it does manage to do something.

- Later, after he drives you home, he slips a wad of bills into your hand, insisting that you take it and telling you to meet him at his club at noon the next day, giving your hand a purposeful squeeze before you say goodbye for the night.

- Let me just say, you could rob Guy half blind and he wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing; nor even realize what you’re doing. He’s wrapped around your finger before you even start dating.

- So you get a job at Guys place where you wind up spending quite a bit of time not doing your job and more or less just being lead around by the man himself who finds any excuse to have you by his side.

- It’s a bit late one night that the two of you share your first kiss. He’d been stressing over some business related thing, you usually tried not to ask but judging from the extensive details he often told you, you figured it had something to do with Robbo.

- Feeling nice, you’d fixed a drink and brought it to his office, nervously knocking on the door and gently wiggling the glass in your hand with a small smile.

- The two of you talked, during which he got a little bit worked up and in an effort to help calm him, you’d placed a hand on his shoulder. He froze before a lightbulb went off over his head and he mellowed out instantly.

“I’m alright. I’m alright.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. So uh,” His hand found it’s way onto your waist. “How are things going? Chicago treatin’ you well?”

- The two of you flirt back and forth for a little while before he mentions how a pretty dame like you should be married by now; which prompts him to try to explain himself in fear of having just offended you.

- In an effort to shut him up and prove that he hadn’t insulted you, you pressed a kiss to his cheek with a smile; which did in fact succeed in shutting him up.

“What was that for?”

“For being cute.”

“Cute eh? What am I a puppy or something? Cute.” He teased.

“Oh, I’m sorry. For being charming. Oh and sweet, intelligent, handsome.” You tease him right back, leaning in close to him.

“Now that's better.” He grins before his gaze moves down to your lips.

- Before you even realize it, he’s leaned in and given you a swift peck on the lips. Once your brain actually processes the action, you smile and pull him down for a real kiss, one he gladly reciprocates.

- And just like that, you’d found yourself your perfect man, or should I say: perfect Guy.

- There’s quite a bit of Pda in your relationship, though he tries his hardest not to look too soft in front of anybody. He doesn’t need anyone questioning how tough he is; especially not while Robbo’s in Chicago.

- Regardless, he’s very proud that he snagged a dame like you and he likes to show you off, making it clear that you’re his girl whenever you’re out in public together.

- Constant touches. He’s always giving you little pats and rubs, usually on your hands or shoulders. He especially did it before the two of you started dating.

- You putting your hand on his face? Peak affection. It makes him smile every time.

- Handholding.

- Hugs from behind. Both of you give them to each other; usually when he’s in a grumpy mood.

- Cheek kisses.

- Goodbye kisses. He’ll usually put his hands on the sides of your face and either kiss you on the forehead or give you a soft kiss on the lips.

- Deep, passionate kisses.

- Slow, loving kisses. You make him weak and prove the duality of Guy.

- He loves pet names; both giving and receiving. He likes calling you things like honey, baby, and beautiful; and he adores whenever you call him anything sweet like that.

- Surprisingly enough; what with how soft he is with you, he isn’t a huge cuddler. When you stay the night, you’ll usually just sleep next to each other, maybe with your backs/hands touching or his arm slung over your stomach. He just likes knowing that you’re there next to him.

- Always sitting together. He routinely winds up leaning in even further no matter how close you are to him.

- Big birthdays and other important parties. He’s always arranging nice “little” get togethers for special occasions, usually making some sort of speech or announcement during them. You think his eagerness to do so is pretty cute.

- Getting spoiled. What can he say? He likes seeing his girl happy.

- Like I said before: you’ve got him wrapped around your finger. He runs around in circles for you and jumps to do whatever you ask when you give him the slightest bit of incentive; which is usually some sort of flirtation.

- He’ll occasionally try to be all tough and somewhat misogynistic with you; as in how most men at that time would “put their foot down” with their wives, but he almost always fails miserably. You quirk a brow at him and he’s immediately backpedaling and trying to soften up what he said.

- You’re a major soft spot. You can do no wrong on his eyes; regardless of what you do in fact do. He takes great offense whenever someone even insinuates that you’re in the wrong or have done something bad. Even when you confess that something is your fault, he’ll find a way to shift; at least, some of the blame.

- He likes people listening to him and asking questions, making him feel like the smartest one in the room, so he’ll definitely tell you about his work; just not the …dirtier parts of it.

- Listening to his stories in amusement. He just has a really endearing way of telling them.

- Getting surprise visits either at your home or your work; if you get a job somewhere else. He always drops by when he’s in the neighborhood.

- Visiting him at work; if you aren’t working for him.

- Spending nights cooped up in his office at the club, when you think he can afford to have a break; considering he can’t concentrate with you around.

- Lots of phone calls. Sometimes they’ll be telling you that he won’t be home until late that night, other times they’re telling you that he’s taking you out and to get yourself fixed up. They’re unpredictable in a fun way.

- When it comes to dates, you really just ask and receive. He’ll take you wherever you’d like as long as you butter him up enough.

- Going out to dinner.

- If he’s being completely honest, he much prefers staying in and “getting comfortable” with you; particularly after Robbo comes back and gains the public’s good graces.

- The first time you cooked him dinner, he nearly proposed right then and there. At first he asked “what’s all this” in confusion, wondering if he forgot about some sort of arrangement you had, and then he turned into this adorably flustered little boy once he realized that you just did it to do it. You got the railing of your life that night, honey.

- He’s not an incredibly traditional man but he does really like domesticity. The first time he really got a taste of it, his literal thought was “I could get used to this” and he still feels the exact same way.

- He watches you a lot; usually while imagining kissing you if he can’t right in that moment.

- Flattery. Sometimes he has ulterior motives, sometimes he doesn’t; you just never know with Guy.

- He likes being able to make you laugh. He takes great pride in being the one to have made you smile.

- He’s really not used to acting like a fine gentleman, but he does try his best to treat you the way you deserve. He’ll usually make jokes to distract from his cluelessness; even though you assure him that you really don't mind.

- He’s clueless but he tries. It’s really quite funny. If only you could see him, uncomfortably and awkwardly standing at a florist or card rack, trying to pick out the perfect one(s) for you. He can be pretty adorable sometimes.

- He can actually be pretty sweet and reassuring when he wants to be. Initially, he’ll be making a big fuss and trying to aggressively get answers out of people; trying to figure out what’s made you “so upset”, but then he’ll go to you and be as soft as can be.

- Trying to keep him from starting trouble when/where he shouldn’t. Sometimes, it really seems like you’d be better off running Chicago yourself.

- He almost always needs to feel like he has the upper hand. If you suggest one thing to make him happy or fix a problem of his, he always has to change it just a little bit to make himself feel like he’s the one in control.

- Giving him massages, particularly when you feel like he needs to calm down.

- Letting him rant to you. He can’t help it and you can handle it; it’s how you find out most of your information anyway.

- He’s a pretty jealous man but it’s fairly easy to brush him off/get him off your back. When he see’s you acting all familiar with another man, he’ll either interrupt and scare them off or wait until you’re finished and ask “what was that, huh?”.

- The two of you are sort of invested in a life of crime so yeah, he’s pretty protective of you. He knows how dangerous things can get around him and he doesn’t want to see his best girl hurt.

- You’re used to Guy and his usual behavior so the two of you don’t have a ton of fights. Whenever you do have a fight, he has a habit of either backpedaling and trying to clear things up before you get really angry with him, or tries to find a compromise while still pretending to act all tough and like he’s the one calling the shots.

- He usually tries to make things right either during or; soon, after the fight but he isn’t the best at smoothing things over so you’ll probably stay mad at him for a few more hours/days.

- He’ll be unable to concentrate whenever you ignore/avoid him and he’ll continue to stare at you until he finally gets fed up and gets you alone, giving you another apology and asking if you can go back to being his gal “now?”.

- He tells you that he loves you pretty often, he just refuses to admit that he says it as much as he does.

- He doesn’t talk about your future a lot but just know that he’s got his sights set on a pretty big one and he’d like for you to be by his side during it; which is probably a good thing since you’re the main reason he’s not dead yet.

#guy gisborne imagine #guy gisborne headcanons #guy gisborne imagines #guy gisborne headcanon #robin and the 7 hoods imagine #robin and the 7 hoods headcanons #robin and the 7 hoods imagines #robin and the 7 hoods headcanon #60s movie imagine #60s movie headcanons #60s movie headcanon #60s movie imagines

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imaginetonyandbucky · 4 years ago

Text

(Give Me A) Reason To Live

Chapter 2

by @dracusfyre

“Do you know where they are planning to take him?” James asked as he headed for the stairs up to his room. Tony started to follow him then realized that James was going to drop his towel to get dressed and after a moment of temptation, stayed at the bottom of the stairs instead.

“SHIELD facility in New York,” Tony called up, trying very hard to concentrate on anything except what his imagination was currently trying to show him regarding a naked James next to a bed.

“SHIELD SHIELD, or Hydra SHIELD?” James said from above, voice slightly muffled.

“SHIELD SHIELD, as far as I can tell,” Tony said. “Fury himself is taking the lead, for now. But there’s always the question of what will happen after he wakes up, and I’m sure Hydra will be trying to weasel themselves into those plans.”

“True.” James jogged back down the stairs, his shirt clinging to damp skin and hair pulled away from his face. “So what do you think? Intercept before or after he wakes up?”

“After, I think.” Tony led him downstairs to the lab, where James had his own computer setup. He sat down at it and powered it on while Tony fired up the fancy coffee machine in the back of the room. “I mean, we have no idea how to thaw out someone safely, and no equipment to do so if we did.”

“True.” James pulled up the Hydra files and read the message that had sent Tony racing up the stairs, then started searching for the exact location of the Valkyrie and the NY SHIELD office to start planning. After a few weeks of fits and starts due to poor communication, they had finally settled into a good division of labor: Tony dug through the files for appropriate targets and when he had them, James would come up with the actual plan of attack. “The exfil will be a lot easier if he’s awake.”

Tony nodded and silence reigned for a long time, broken only by the sound of keyboards and James occasionally making notes. He didn’t realize he had fallen asleep at his desk until James shook him awake and herded him to bed. He’d been having a dream about Captain America, some fuzzy half-remembered thing where the man was scolding him for something, then he had turned into Tony’s father and sent Tony to his room. You didn’t have to be a shrink to pick up on that symbolism, Tony thought as he fell into bed.

“You should get undressed,” James said and Tony froze, suddenly wide awake as his heart hammered. Did he really…?

“What?” He managed, rolling over to look up at James.

Who raised an eyebrow and pointed to Tony’s feet. “You’re still wearing the shoes we went hiking in,” he pointed out, and Tony let his head fall back against the pillows as his face got hot.

“Right,” he mumbled, and toed them off to fall on the floor. James was still standing there, looking expectant, so with a put-upon sigh Tony sat up and started peeling off the rest of his clothes as well.

“This is going to change everything, isn’t it?” he said as James started to leave. “This thing with Cap?”

James hesitated at the door, the hand on the door frame gleaming in the dim light from the computers in the next room. “Get some sleep, Tony,” he said after a moment. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

There was that sick feeling again. Tony tossed his clothes in the corner and fell back into bed, and recited the digits of pi until he fell asleep.

~~~~~

By the time Tony woke up and stumbled up the stairs, James was awake and thankfully already making breakfast. He shuffled up to the kitchen table and muttered a thanks as James slid a cup of coffee across the table. James knew better than to attempt conversation before Tony was ready, so they sat and ate in silence until Tony was finally awake enough to say, “Any news?”

“Nothing much. They needed special equipment to break through the ice without destabilizing the plane and sending it to the bottom of the ocean,” James said between bites of pancake.

“So we’ve got time?”

“Little bit.”

“Got a plan?” At that, James tilted his head back and forth in an eh, sort of motion. “What do you need?”

“More intel.”

Tony just grunted and finished off his coffee. If James still had questions they would be ready and waiting for Tony downstairs, and since they had time, Tony needed at least one more cup of coffee before dealing with that. He pushed away from the table and put his plate in the dishwasher, then refilled his coffee and sat back down while James kept eating. This was another good system that they’d figured out over the past year; James ate twice as much as Tony, at least, to power that supersoldier metabolism, which worked out because by the time James was done eating, Tony was finished with his second cup of coffee and they were both ready to start the day. “Hey, where’s he going to sleep?” Tony blurted out without thinking, then cringed. “Nevermind, that’s a stupid question.”

James just shrugged as he used his last bite to sop up some maple syrup. “Dunno. One of us will have to double bunk with someone, or take the couch, or get another mattress. Does it matter?”

“No, of course not.”

But James was eyeing him thoughtfully. “Is that what you meant? Last night?”

“Huh?”

“You said this was going to change everything.”

“Oh.” Tony looked down at his coffee cup to avoid James’ eyes. “I, uh, I meant we’re not going to be able to fly under the radar anymore, you know? After stealing Captain America out from under SHIELD and Hydra’s noses.”

“True.” As James picked up his plate and put it in the dishwasher as well, he said, “You should call him Steve. We’re rescuing Steve Rogers, not Captain America.”

Right. Of course. Like Tony could forget that James and Cap- Steve had a past. “Yeah, sure, sorry,” Tony muttered, taking a sip of coffee against the sour taste in his mouth. “I’ll head downstairs and get started on that intel.”

Once downstairs, he could see why James had left these questions to him. Questions like finding the building plans for the SHIELD facility and learning which personnel were going to be assigned to Steve were going to take some hacking to find out. Fortunately, when it came to SHIELD, Hydra was already infested in their systems, and Tony had a backdoor to Hydra, so by lunch time he was jogging back up the stairs to tell James what he’d found and almost tripped over a Barret MK22.

“Careful,” James said, sitting at the center of what looked like an explosion in a firearms factory. “I thought you’d be down there for longer.”

“Packing for the trip?” Tony asked, stepping carefully around the sniper rifle and picking his way through the rest of James’ collection towards the kitchen.

“Planning. Trying to figure out what we might need to pick up before we go.”

“I got that info for you, if that helps your planning.” Tony took one of the many frozen meals out of the freezer and popped it in the microwave. “Looks like they are keeping this information pretty close to the chest, which is good for us. Not going to be a lot of attention on him when it comes time to do our thing.” James only made an absent noise, clearly still lost in thought as he stared at a stack of C4, so for a while there was only the humming of the microwave until Tony got impatient and opened the door early. “I’ll be downstairs,” he told James as he grabbed a fork and gingerly picked up his molten hot lasagna.

“I’m coming,” James said, getting to his feet with a smooth, easy motion that made Tony feel every one of his years. Tony settled down in his computer chair as James stood behind him, leaving Tony with a prickling awareness of how close he was. Tony took a deep breath to steady himself and pulled up the report he’d slapped together. First was the building plan, and after it got James’ nod of approval Tony sent it to the jumbo printer because he knew that James liked to work off of hard copies. Next was a series of internal shield memos proposing a variety of plans for what to do when Steve woke up, and James snorted derisively as he read them. “Not a single one of these people know anything about Steve, do they?”

“I mean, only what they learned from history books, I guess. What would you do?”

“You mean what am I going to do? I’m going to say, ‘Wake the fuck up, Steve, we gotta get out of here now follow me.’”

Tony laughed and saw James’ mouth curl up at the corners. “Simple and effective. I like it.” Since SHIELD was still trying to decide its plan of action, Tony dismissed the emails and started pulling up the personnel list. Like he’d said, it wasn’t long; SHIELD was playing this one close to the vest for now.

“Wait.” Tony immediately stopped scrolling as James leaned over his shoulder, smelling like shower soap and gun oil. “I know her,” James said, frowning. He pointed at the redhead. “Who is she?”

“Well, her SHIELD ID says Natalie Rushman,” Tony said. “Is she Hydra?”

“No…” James said slowly, eyebrows drawing together as he tried to remember. Many of his memories had come back surprisingly quickly once they’d escaped Hydra, making for some really touch-and-go moments in the early months as James had often woken up screaming from nightmares and had wandered around the cabin hollow-eyed and haunted. Going into the woods had been his escape in those days, and he’d only told Tony what he was up to after Tony had gotten cabin fever and decided to go for a hike and figure out what all the hype was about with fresh air and nature. “I think I shot her once.”

“Think she’d know your face?”

“Maybe.” Tony could tell that James was still frustrated by the almost-there memory so he left the image up on the screen for him to stare at.

“That’ll be a complication, since she’s part of his reintegration team,” Tony mused. “Strangely enough, I guess that means between the two of us, I’ll be the one least likely to be recognized. Not something I ever thought I’d say.”

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

“Um…” Tony squinted at James and realized that obviously James wouldn’t know much about Tony’s past, other than what he’d told him or what James would have seen in the Hydra files. Especially if it hadn’t occurred to James to look him up on the internet, which he guessed was possible. “I was, uh, kind of a celebrity.”

“What for? Were you a movie star or something?”

Tony made a face. He didn’t want to admit that he was mostly famous for a series of sex scandals to someone who had personally known Captain America. “Nothing good,” he said finally. “Stupid stuff.” No chance James wasn’t going to Google him now, but at least he wouldn’t have to explain to James’ face why there were so many pictures on the internet of him naked. Thankfully, James just shrugged, apparently willing to leave it at that, so Tony quickly went through the rest of the items on James’ list. There was also no further updates on the efforts to get Steve out of the ice, so they were officially in Tony’s least favorite part of any operation: the hurry up and wait part.

With nothing else to do in the lab, Tony set JARVIS to keep an eye on any further communication and followed James back up the stairs. Since the couch was the only part of the living room that wasn’t covered in some kind of weapon, Tony perched on it and turned on the TV while James organized his collection. Making sad noises at James got him his forgotten lasagna from downstairs with the low, low cost of grumbling and an eye roll, leaving Tony to have a pleasant couple of hours hanging out in companionable silence with James. At some point, James had changed position to lean against the couch while sitting on the floor, which had meant that his back was pressing against Tony’s leg, warm and solid and something Tony only thought about every 15 seconds or so for a solid hour.

“I was thinking about what you said earlier,” James said after a while, sitting up and sadly moving away from Tony as he started to put away the weapons, sorting them into piles and returning some to their hiding places. “About this operation breaking our cover.”

“Yeah?”

“Your suit. Could you make it flashy?”

“Flashy?” Tony echoed in confusion. He had a couple of suit builds now, based on the various types of missions they went on, but all of them were matte black and had a rubberized exterior to reduce the noise and radar profile. “I mean, sure, that wouldn’t be hard. But why?”

“Our best bet might be for you to create a distraction, and I think you zooming down 5th Avenue would be a good distraction.”

Tony stared at him, stomach turning as his whole body went hot and cold with fear. “No,” he said shakily, turning away from James and sliding further into the couch, staring resolutely at the TV screen. “No fucking way.” Tony pulled the blanket tighter around himself, curling into a ball. Everything depended on him not being seen, on Hydra not knowing he was alive. Everything. How could James not know that? Was Tony supposed to jump at the chance to sacrifice himself for Steve? Because one look at the suit and Hydra would know, Stane would know, and then– then-

A sudden warm hand on his shoulder made him jump and lash out. When his hands only met hard muscle fight turned to flight and he scrambled away. But as he tried to get to his feet he tripped over a blanket and hit the floor hard, knocking the wind out of him. His heart was pounding in his ears but eventually he heard James talking to him, saying “Tony, fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize, just wait,” and that was like a bucket of water to the face. He realized he was sweating and his breathing was fast and shallow, and as he looked up at James he felt the hot crawl of humiliation.

“I’m fine,” he said shortly as he climbed to his feet. “I’m going to take a shower.” He could feel the pressure of James’ eyes and his silence against his back as he went to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He shook for a while, leaning against the bathroom door, before he finally managed to turn on the shower.

The awkwardness lasted until dinner, with James clearly wanting to say something but unsure how to bring it up, and Tony too embarrassed to meet his eye or give him an opening. Thankfully, JARVIS gave them an update halfway through dinner, and the tension eased as conversation turned towards their plan. Since James had cooked, Tony reluctantly got up to do the dishes, only to have James gently crowd him away from the sink. “You need to get ready for the mission,” James pointed out, which was a flimsy excuse because it didn’t take that long to get the suit ready to go now that Tony had figured out how to make it deploy from something the size of a suitcase, but Tony didn’t argue. He hated doing dishes.

It was also better than staying upstairs and risking that James would say something, so he went downstairs to prep the suit. Once down there, though, he slowed as he approached the Mark VII, remembering James’ suggestion earlier. Though the thought still make his limbs feel weak and his heart race, he forced himself to sit down and consider the idea instead of running from it. He knew what James had been trying to suggest; he could get the attention of the police and any SHIELD agents in the area and draw them away from James while he rescued Steve. He could even put a few holes in the building to cover their escape then disappear as soon as they were clear. It was smart, it was simple, and it was fucking terrifying.

Though there was no escaping the fact that Tony had put in a lot of effort making sure Hydra would think he was dead, and this was going to undo all of that work. “Fuck,” Tony groaned, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. It wasn’t like James wasn’t risking everything, too, but apparently he was willing to let Tony take the cowards way out even if it made their plan harder. “JARVIS,” he said finally, voice muffled behind his hands. “Warm up the machines, we’re modifying one of the suits. We’re changing up the armor.” What was an eye-catching color? Probably red, a bright red. All the better to wave himself in front of the metaphorical bull. But all red would look like shit. “Red and gold,” Tony said finally. “Make me a mockup of the armor in red and gold.”

#winteriron #tony x bucky #Tony Stark #Bucky Barnes

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rovingpixels · 3 years ago

Photo

They meet Nicky for brunch mid-morning at what has become their usual place, the Bricks down by the water. She and Noah arrive first. Chelsea's grateful for a little time to sit and reflect.

"I'm nervous, Noah. I feel like I flubbed it with Nicky so badly last week. I behaved horribly towards him."

"I think he feels like he acted poorly, too. Did you not mean what you told him?"

"No, I wasn't happy with what he proposed but he's my son and I love him. I could have expressed my discomfort in a better way."

"Do you want to call it off? Him managing the garden in some way?"

Chelsea thinks.

"No. If I'm realistic, it has to happen at some point, and he's family. It's partly his legacy and I trust him. But ultimately, I feel like it has to be my decision. I felt swept aside before."

Noah listens to her, nodding, and then sits back in his chair to think.

"You have to prioritize the relationship then. He's not going to hear you if he's focusing on defense. Maintain the relationship because it's what you have in common and both value. But you've got to stick to your guns about what you want. Be honest because otherwise, no one is going to be happy about any decisions made."

Chelsea smiled. "Why are you so good at this?"

He shrugs. "It's kind of what I do. Finance sims are not the most intuitive bunch so I became their whisperer. Of course, the stakes are higher here."

She reaches out to caress his face, shaking her head in wonder.

"Do you know how lucky I am?"

"Not half as lucky as me."

When her son arrives, Chelsea pulls him into a tight hug.

"It's so good to see you, Nicky. First, let me apologize. I shouldn't have been so short with you when you came to the house last week."

"It's okay, Mom. I was rushing things."

They hug again. She's so pleased. It's more important to her to preserve her relationship with her son than to score points so the apology was an easy choice.

Noah goes in to order their breakfast so the two can talk. Chelsea mentions that they visited the park and saw a play. Nicky gives her greetings from his siblings. He's staying with Carmen and Daisy for the weekend. He mentions they went out for karaoke. Chelsea laughs.

"Your dad and I did a little karaoke, too!"

Before she can elaborate, Noah returns with coffee.

"Shall we put some things on the table?"

Nicky and Chelsea turn to him, expectantly. "That's a good start, Dad!" Nicky laughs.

Noah grins at him. "Funny guy, eh?"

Nicky preens and then Noah continues.

"I know I got you both here, but I'm just going to get coffee, bus the table, and whatever. I won't take sides. Actually, I don't believe there are sides to take. I think you both want the same general outcome, you just have to figure out how to get there and make sure everyone is heard." He sits back and looks back and forth at the other two.

Chelsea gives him an indulgent smile. Nicky nods. And then they turn to each other. In a moment, Chelsea speaks.

"Nicky, I am not a problem to be solved."

"Mom, I never would think that. But I know you've worked hard and sacrificed all your life to provide for us. I have the opportunity and ability to help you now. I want to be able to do that."

"I appreciate that, but this has to happen on my terms. This is my life's work."

"I don't want to step on your toes, Mom, but I feel like I have some earned experience that you're not aware of."

"Nicky, I'm proud of what you've accomplished, but please don't discount my earned experience!"

"All I want to do...."

"Chelsea," Noah interrupts. "when we were in Brindleton Bay last weekend, you told me a little bit about the greenhouse you had there. Did Nick hear about it?"

#Sims 4 #sims 4 story #ts4 #100 Baby Challenge #simblr

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k7l4d4 · 3 years ago

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Midnight Striga: Owl House/Fairy Tail Crossover Episode 1 Part 2

Hello everybody, time for another part of my Fairy Tail/Owl House Crossover, Midnight Striga!! Hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

“So, since when can humans do magic?” Eda asked with a sniff, shooting a wry grin towards her passenger.

Luz arched an eyebrow, visibly impressed. “Since always. I’ve kind of gathered by now that you aren’t human, and that very few, if any, of the people here are human either. But I’m getting off topic already, why are you asking?” She leaned forward, expecting an answer.

“HA!” Eda barked in humor at Luz’s boldness. “Kid, it’s been an accepted fact since forever that humans can’t do magic. I think that warrants a little curiosity, doesn’t it?”

Luz huffed, tilting her head back and forth in thought. “Eh, fair enough. I have no idea where you got your info that humans can’t do magic, but since I’m guessing this place is pretty closed off from human contact, info from outside of it falls through the cracks. I can give you a more informed answer when we land, but the long and skinny of it is that every living being has some potential for magic, but not everything has the power needed to actually do anything with that potential. I’m one of those that can.”

Eda blinked, glancing up in thought. That… was more than what she thought she was gonna get. In the short term, this kid basically more or less flat out confirmed that what witches know about humans is about as accurate as a portrait made by a blind man with no sense of touch. Purely guesswork based off of extremely limited input, in other words. Still, while this may upset some of her plans, this girl had some serious moves back there. She still had no clue what exactly she did, but it was impressive! And- what was that thumping she felt on the back of her head?

“-da, Eda, Eda, Eda,” With each repetition of the Witch’s name, Luz lightly thumped her knuckles against the back of her head. What could she say, when Luz got bored, she tended to get a little mischievous.

“GAH!” With a yelp at the small but incessant pain, Eda shot Luz a quick glance of annoyance. “Titans, kid, I’ve only got the one head! What do you want?”

Luz shot Eda a Cheshire grin, before subtly pointing down. “I think we’re here, if the fact your staff stopped and has been hovering over this place on its own is anything to go by.”

As Eda glanced down, she flushed in embarrassment as, yes, they were hovering over her house. Man, she really got sucked into her own head there, didn’t she? Eda, ignoring Luz’s snickering, guided Owlbert down for a landing, hopping off as they touched ground.

As Luz finally got her laughter under control, she noticed something Eda had left behind on the staff: her hand. While admittedly curious about how it was still moving while visibly detached, and with no apparent magical connection to Eda’s body, Luz decided discretion was the better idea. Lightly snatching the hand off the staff, she sauntered up to Eda, and very much deliberately tapped on her shoulder. When the older woman turned back towards her in question, Luz cheerfully grinned and held up the missing appendage.

Flushing once again at having missed the fact that she had lost a limb again, Eda gratefully took her hand back, snapping it back in place upon her wrist. Deciding now was the best point to start saving face, Eda pulled up a smirk, gesturing to the door. “I was wondering where that went. Anyways kid, I’d like to welcome you to my place. It may not seem like much, but I’ve got a killer security system!”

Luz was skeptical. Not surprising, when you’ve been running as much as she has, it’s practically second nature after a while. But still, she couldn’t detect anything overtly magical with this house, as amazingly weird and bewilderingly breathtaking it may be, in a creepy shack in the woods sort of way, aside from that odd Door Knocker in the shape of an Owl’s face. A face that had just blinked.

“PASSWORD PLEASE!” It shrieked in what Luz could honestly say was the most annoying voice she had EVER heard in her life. Also, when did she raise her hand to punch?

Before she could attack the strange creature, Eda beat her to the point, jabbing her fingers into the Face’s eyes. “We don’t have time for your games, Hooty! Open up!”

“Fine! Jeez! You never let me have any fun, hoot.” The Face, Hooty apparently, complied in a much softer, but still irritating, voice, swinging the door open on its hinges without Eda touching it.

Stifling a snicker at the odd by-play between the two, Luz followed Eda into her home. The first thing she noticed was the massive piles of junk scattered about, an odd mix of toys, books, tools, clothing, anything you could possibly find legally in either a sleepy town in the countryside or a bustling major city. The second thing she noticed was how prominent the Owl Aesthetic of the place was, with Owl themed decorations covering pretty much everything that wasn’t cluttered by Eda’s junk. Yet, in spite of the messy, dysfunctional feel of it all… Luz could honestly say that she found the place almost like a home, just from the energy of it all.

Smirking, Eda preened under Luz’s silent awe of her house. “Yeah, this place is great. A nice spot to hide away from the pressures of life.” She plopped down onto her couch with a content sigh. “Also the cops. Hmm, and also exes. Ha!”

Luz cracked a smile at the joke. Okay, it probably wasn’t really a joke, but it was still funny! “I can’t say I’ve had issues with the third one, but I’m very familiar with the first two. So, you’ve got questions for me?” She settled against the counter, relaxed, but ready to spring if things went ugly. She didn’t really expect them to, but you could never be too careful sometimes, especially with a near-total stranger, battle bond or not.

Eda leaned forward, eyes sharp. Now they were in familiar territory. “Questions, and a small proposal, if you’re up to it. Firstly, just what kind of magic were you using back there?”

“Huh, getting right in it, eh?” Luz grinned, pleased at the opportunity to brag- she meant inform! Inform someone about her skills. “At the start, that was what we in the bizz call Molding Magic. In my case specifically, Light-Make Magic.”

Eda blinked, not understanding. “Okay, gonna need a little more than that kid.” She grinned. “But I will say this, I think I like where this is going.”

Luz snorted, agreeing with the woman privately, and started complying. “Well, to simplify it, Molding Magic is a form of Magic that can be applied both for combat and utility.” Luz made the same gesture Eda had seen earlier, pressing her closed fist against an open palm, soft light building at the point of contact. “Molding Magic allows one to gather magical energy, and shape it into different forms based on the element or material used. In my case, I use light.” With that said, she pulled her closed fist away, revealing a miniature sculpture of Eda, seemingly made entirely of light held into a still image. Luz smirked at Eda’s look of amazement. “Anything I can visualize, I can make, and the better I can visualize it, the more powerful and stable it turns out.”

Eda was stunned. This? This was a form of magic she had never even heard or dreamed of. And, if she was reading between the lines right, while it may not be common for humans who can use magic, and wasn’t that still a strange thought, it wasn’t truly rare by any means. The ability to make ANYTHING you can think of, so long as you can spare the energy? Eda could already think of all the ways she could’ve used something like that over the years.

“Okay, since when have humans been able to do something like that!?” Eda seriously wanted to know. If she could figure out how to replicate a spell like that, it would make some of her escapes far easier later on.

Luz shrugged. “I don’t know. A few hundred years maybe? I mean, the base form, Molding Magic itself, is pretty ancient, but most modern variants have only been around for a few centuries at most. Like, it’s older, but not ancient.” What else could she say? Luz may have a serious interest in magical history and theory, but she wasn’t an actual scholar.

Eda slumped. That wasn’t the best news, but it wasn’t really the worst either. Still, if humans have had proper magic for centuries, then the info the Boiling Isles had about humanity was even more off than she had thought. “Damn. I won’t ask you about those other spells and stuff you were slinging back there. They didn’t look similar to what you started with, but they seemed closer to magic that I know of at least.” Her gaze brightened, lips curving up into an excited grin. “But hot dog, what you were doing back there was impressive, kid. So, you want to know more about what’s going on?”

Luz nodded, serious. “Absolutely. For starters, where am I?”

Eda smirked, glad she had anticipated that initial question, though her own made it so she should probably adjust her prepared answer a little. “You, my new friend, are in the scenic Demon Realms, specifically, the Boiling Isles! A colossal collection of Islands joined by the corpse of a long-dead magical being known only as the Titan. For centuries, it’s been accepted among Witches that we alone had magic, and humans who we knew of, but knew nothing real about beyond our own assumptions, did not. Another common belief was that the Demon Realm was the source of all human myths and legends from our world seeping into yours, but if you guys have actually got magic, that’s probably false. Or, at least, it’s less true than what we had believed for so long.” Eda slumped, suddenly drained. It made sense, in her mind, to feel tired. Sure, she was excited, but having your entire understanding of how the world actually works going under a sudden shift wasn’t easy.

Luz nodded, processing the information. “Okay, so I’m in another dimension primarily populated by demons and magical beings that refer to themselves as Witches. Got it. Do you have any questions about my world?”

Eda quirked an eyebrow. “Honestly, kid? No, not really. While having my whole world view undergo a massive shift was fun, I’m not really a scholar, so this doesn’t affect me all that much.” She bolted up, suddenly brimming with energy. “What does affect me, though, is what you and I can do for each other!”

Luz smirked, slightly confused, but mostly excited about where this could go. “Oh?”

“Yup. But first, you’ll probably want to meet my roommate.” Eda grinned. She just knew she was gonna love the kid’s reaction. Turning towards the stairs, she shouted. “Hey King! Get your keister down here!!” Out of view from the kid’s eyes, Eda subtly twirled up a spell, distorting the sounds of King’s voice and footsteps as he descended.

“WHO DARES DISTURB I?” Eda smirked at the human’s reaction, seeing her shift into a battle stance at King’s admittedly intimidating (at the moment) voice, and the perception-shifting shadows adding to the illusion, she just knew this was gonna be funny. “The king of Demons!?” As King finally stomped into view, clad in his bath gear and clutching a Rubber Ducky, the spells having worn out and revealing his true size and voice, she was not disappointed.

“QUE LINDO!!” At the adorable sight of the little doggy demon, all of Luz’s hard-earned self-control decided that surrendering to her adoration of cuteness was preferable to keeping her tough girl image. Abandoning her attack stance, she rushed to the skull-headed cutie-pie of a demon, smothering him in cuddles. “Who’s a good boy? Is it you? Is it you!?”

“N-No, NO!! I Don’t know who your good boy is!?” Squirming in the strange individual’s grasp, King turned to his friend, roommate, and (even if he didn’t like to admit it) foster mother. “Eda! Who is this monster!?”

Eda laughed, genuinely enjoying the sight of the small demon struggling in the human’s grasp. “Okay kid, you can drop him. He’s not really fond of the whole cuddling thing.” As Luz grudgingly released King, Eda continued. “This, King, is Luz. She’s going to help with our little Warden problem, if you know what I mean.”

As King finished dusting himself off, he finished processing Eda’s words. “Oh. Hooray!”

Luz was far less enthused. “Whoa whoa wait, since when did I agree to anything?”

Eda chuckled. “Well, kid, if you ever wanna get back to the Human Realm again, I’m the only one you can do it through, as I’ve got the only known portal there.”

Luz grumbled, but didn’t challenge the claim. Smart girl.

Ed decided that it was time to get into the nitty gritty.

“King, here,” She began, motioning to the demon in question, conjuring up the story of his “fall from grace” as she talked. “Was once the mighty and powerful King of Demons. Feared and admired by all. Until, one day, the Evil Warden Wrath stole his crown of power, reducing him to… this.” She finished, motioning to the sight of King chasing his own tail.

Luz’s love of cuteness took over. “You mean this little guy?” She cooed, scooping King up into her arms. He tolerated it for a second, then flailed enough to break free.

Eda grunted, leaning against her wall. “Yup. We need you to help us break into the vault the Crown’s being stored in, and in exchange, we’ll get you home.”

“We’re your only option!” King piped up.

Eda sent a fond smirk at the little demon, before continuing. “And besides.” Eda pulled King up to Luz’s face. “Can you really say no to this face?” Eda cooed in a slightly babying tone.

As King’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening, he yelled, “No! Don’t encourage her!!”

Fighting her impulse to agree immediately in the face of cuteness, Luz mulled it all over. She was stuck here for the moment, and she honestly didn’t have anything better to do. Plus, if anything went rotten with this, she could always defend herself…

Luz beamed. “When do we start, and where do we go?”

Eda grinned, happy that Luz was onboard. “Now, and somewhere super fun!” She promised, giving Luz a double thumbs up.

#the owl house #owl house au #owl house crossover #fairy tail #fairy tail au #fairy tail crossover #luz noceda #eda clawthorne #king the owl house #magic

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magnoliasinbloom · 5 years ago

Text

Crash Course Love

Claire and Jamie are together for one purpose only: trying to get over their previous relationships. It’s just a plan, isn’t it?

Infinite thanks to @lcbeauchampoftarth and @anna-swims for being awesome betas. There is no posting schedule, because life™. I hope you enjoy this ride.

AO3

1: Drink [Claire]

I slammed my tiny shot glass down hard on the bar top. It earned me a dirty look from what’s-his-face, the bartender.

“Hey… hey! Yeah, another one over here, please.” My words weren’t quite slurred yet, but I was getting there fast. Bloody fuck.

I swiveled on the barstool, just enough to get a real good look at the people who were milling around the crowded Glasgow bar. Which bar was I at again… Prince Edward? Prince Charles? Some royal name.

I was past being discreet. I craned my neck and checked out every booth and table just to make sure they were really gone. The bartender nudged my arm with my new drink and I felt for it blindly, never taking my eyes off the tiny dance floor.

“Cheers, Robert.”

“It’s Rupert,” he grunted.

“Whatever.” I pulled the tequila hard and fast, barely grimacing as it burned its way down.

“Och. Tha’ looks painful. I might have to try that.”

The voice came from my left, a slightly slurred Scottish burr. I turned slowly, wiping my mouth rather sloppily with the back of my hand. I squinted in the dim light.

His hair was the first thing I noticed. It was an attractive mess, and I couldn’t tell if it was the shitty lighting or his natural color, but it was so red it looked fake.

I realized I’d been staring at the top of this lad’s head like an idiot, before finally meeting his gaze. Deep blue eyes—a rare form of sapphire—looked back at me, also squinting through the haze of cigarette smoke and dim lighting.

Bloody fuck, he was a hot mess. I felt a twinge of equal parts guilt and self-righteous anger. I thought maybe it was a bit too soon for me to notice other attractive men, but the anger spoke up even louder. Why shouldn’t I engage in interesting conversations with random, gorgeous men? The anger in me won.

Wait, he’d said something. What was it? He wanted to do a shot?

“Um, it’s Cuervo. I think I might go blind if I keep drinking this, but that’s okay. Then I won’t have to see that arsehole walking around with that stroppy cow.”

Oops, overshare. At least I hadn’t hurled tequila and pub mix all over him. Yet.

Attractive blue-eyed lad raised his eyebrows. He was just as shit-faced as I was, maybe even a bit more. “Arsehole? Who would that be?”

Oh, might as well. “My ex. Turns out those late-night work meetings that went on for months were late-night sex marathons with Sandy. The arm-candy.”

“Sandy? The stroppy cow, I assume?” He smirked and tossed back the remainder of his own drink. “Which would make you…?”

“Claire. Spurned but pissed ex-girlfriend.” I held out my hand.

He took it in his and squeezed it gently. “Jamie, spurned and sad ex-boyfriend.” The tequila must have kicked in; my hand and arm felt all tingly and a warmth sparked in my belly.

“So. Any particular sorrows you’re drowning in cheap liquor?” I faced the bar again, looking at him out of the corner of my eye.

“Och, aye. But I daresay they’re halfway gone now.” Jamie shook his empty glass and the ice clinked. “My third.”

I snorted. “Fourth.” I held up my own shot glass in Ronald’s—or was it Reuben’s?—direction. “My good man, two please.” I glanced at Jamie, smiling wickedly. “You need to catch up.”

“Aye, but I really dinna want to risk going blind.” He called out to Rodolfo (Riley?), “Make it Patron, please.”

“Patron, huh? Is she worth it?” I caught his gaze.

Jamie’s eyes hardened, but I could tell it wasn’t towards me. “No. But I am.”

“Fair enough.” The glasses were placed in front of us and I raised mine to his. I stood, wobbling a bit and he did the same. “A toast—to Jamie and Claire. May their exes catch amoebic dysentery and shit till they die.”

“Amen.” He held his own shot aloft and touched the rim to mine. We looked at each other for a moment before we downed the golden liquid.

“Argh!” Jamie shook his head, making a face and coughing once. “Nice.”

“What were you drinking?” I nodded towards the chunky tumbler filling fast with melted ice.

“Whisky. I probably shouldna be mixing Laphroaig and Patron, but fuck it. I dinna care.”

Now both our eyes were kind of swimming and I stumbled into him as I tried to hike myself back onto the barstool.

“Easy there,” he chuckled. I straightened up, pushing away slightly. I gripped the bar top. The world was tilting crazily now. Bloody hell.

“I think that last shot was a mistake.” Now my words were blending together in strange ways.

“Aye, for me too.” His Scots accent had broadened more over the past minute.

I laid my head on the bar, not caring if my hair got dirty. I groaned, and I felt Jamie pat my back gently. “Um, thanks.” I managed to raise my head off the surface after a few minutes.

“Anytime.” He hoisted himself onto the stool next to mine. We endured silence for a bit until he grabbed a nearby salt shaker, tapping it rhythmically on the bar top. I waited.

The music suddenly changed; slow, mellow notes filled the air. I was about to make a snarky comment about the DJ’s song choice when I noticed Jamie’s hand next to me, palm up.

“Dance?” he asked softly.

“Only if you promise not to twirl me,” I found myself answering.

We made our way onto the makeshift dance area in the corner. He pulled me close, his hand at my back and the other clutched mine tightly against his chest. My left hand went on his shoulder as he led me expertly around the floor. My head threatened to drop, nestling perfectly into the center of his chest. God, he was tall. The alcohol was finally achieving its purpose, numbing me.

We swayed back and forth; I was still trying not to vomit as we danced. I found that the scent coming off Jamie’s skin was helping—something fresh like citrus, tinged with his own male musk.

“I proposed to her.” His warm breath tickled the shell of my ear.

I gripped his shoulder hard. He proposed? Jamie’s story sounded more fucked up than mine. He took my touch as a sign to continue.

“It was our 2-year anniversary. Fancy restaurant, candles, romantic shite—ye ken? Movie style.”

“What’s your ex called?” I slurred, surprised I could focus on a question.

“Annalise.” Jamie’s voice had a sneering quality as he pronounced her name with a French accent. “We’d met when I studied a semester abroad in Paris, but she actually lived here. After I’d pulled the ring from my pocket, and knelt in front of the entire restaurant—she said she didna want to hurt me, but that we should remain friends.”

“Friends. Classic. Only if being friends means you get to punch them in the mouth after a speech like that,” I laughed bitterly and he joined me.

“That was exactly a year ago—tonight. I just found out she’s dating some arsehole—something something Saint Germain. Hence, whisky.”

The song ended and Jamie looped my arm through his, and we collapsed at a table; barstools were a little complicated in our current state. I took a deep breath and reciprocated my own sob story.

“I walked in on Frank and Sandy a few months ago. In our bed. Bloody hell, we’d known each other since we were teenagers. We were living together. Was ‘I think we should see other people’ so hard to say?” I flagged a waitress, holding up two fingers.

“Och, lass, another one?” Jamie looked concerned. I was no lightweight, but I was really feeling the previous shots.

Fuck it.

“Yeah. I need it.” I sucked on a lime and upended the shot glass. I barely acknowledged the burn this time.

“That bad, eh?”

“It is.” I winced, remembering how I still hadn’t managed to take down the pictures of us. That was just bloody unhealthy.

“Oh. It’s really no’ my place, since, well… I’m completely pissed too, but… do ye drink this much every weekend, just to forget? I mean, I worry about yer liver and all.”

“No. It’s just I ran into the Frank and Sandy here tonight, who’s sporting a rock the size of a peach pit on her finger.” I swallowed hard. “And very, very pregnant.” Much too pregnant for their affair to have begun only a few months ago. She looked ready to pop.

“Och.” Jamie looked chagrined. “Aye.” He downed his own shot and gestured for more. He raised his glass in a toast like I had.

“To ye. Because at this point, I think yer story sounds worse than mine. And ye’re still standing.” We slammed a few more shots, until finally, sweet oblivion.

No more pain, no more misplaced guilt, no more what-ifs. A moment’s peace.

It could be found at the bottom of a glass.

- - -

Sunlight streamed through the pale, gauzy curtains. It felt like a fucking drill through my eyes.

“Oh God,” I mumbled, rolling over and trying to ignore the pounding like a sledgehammer between my temples.

I hit something soft and warm beside me.

My eyes flew open, light hitting me painfully. As they adjusted, I caught sight of a tousled red head peeking over the top of the covers.

Oh my God. Oh my God.

How did this happen?

#outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander au #CCL1 #claire is going to cuss a lot in this one #fake dating

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ourloveisforthelovely · 4 years ago

Text

In the Light 2

Harry Potter

Characters Sirius Black x Reader

Link to Chapter 1

Rating: Mature for minor smut

______

“You’ll never see him again.”

Your eyes snapped open. The darkness of the room surrounded you leaving you almost gasping for air. For a moment, you couldn’t help wondering if the events of that day had been only a dream? A dark sense of despair filled you leaving you almost panicking.

You weren’t sure why the feeling bothered you so. This was a feeling that you awoke to plenty of times in the past years. It seemed anytime that you dreamed of Sirius in any form of romantic way a nightmare was always to follow. For whatever reason, you weren’t allowed to think of the man you loved in a romantic light anymore.

Maybe it wasn’t being allowed to dream romantically but your brain coming back to say…

“It was only a dream! You’ll never touch him again!”

You swallowed, wanting to fight back the impending panic attack. There had been too many nights spent rocking back and forth in sobs or looking at your wedding album as a sobbing.

A warm body moving beside you quickly pulled you from your thoughts. Instant relief flooded through you as the moment you realized Sirius was lying beside you. He lay with one arm behind his head. He still sleeps the same way , you thought with a smile. You blushed the moment Sirius’ dark eyes fluttered open. A smirk crossed his face as Sirius looked at you.

“Come over here and keep me warm.”

You didn’t need to be told twice before pouncing on top of Sirius. He quickly pulled you down into a soft kiss.

“This is the way that we meant to wake up.”

Sirius muttered before kissing a small path down your neck. Your eyes clenched shut as you enjoyed every small touch Sirius had to give you.

“Is it a dream?”

You whispered as Sirius rocked his hips against your body. Your eyes closed, savoring the feeling of impending intimacy.

“Then it's a good one.”

Sirius replied. He had no plans to let you get within two feet of him anytime soon. There were 15 years worth of lovemaking to catch up on and Sirius didn’t plan to waste a moment of time. He knew that he would have to get a grip on himself when Harry arrived but for now, he had you all to himself.

Has she been with anyone else?

The dark thought crept back into Sirius’s mind. He was internally furious with himself for wondering that thought alone. The snob in him didn’t want to admit that he spent a good chunk of time in prison wondering if you had moved on or not. What if you fell in love with someone else? Someone like...Snape. The mere thought of Snape putting his miserable hands on you made Sirius’ temper rage.

“Have you slept with anyone else while I was away?”

The question came out quicker than Sirius meant for it to. Your shocked face told Sirius all that he needed to know.

“What?”

You snapped before getting off of Sirius. The question shocked you to the core! Why would he even think something like that?

You scooted to the edge of the bed and stared angrily at the floor.

“What kind of question is that?”

You asked coldly. Sirius sighed and sat up. He lit a cigarette and pushed his hair out of his eyes.

“It's a fair one. I was locked away in prison. You were young and beautiful. It was completely possible for you to move on.”

You jumped up and quickly started searching for your missing clothes.

“That is a horrible question! I married you! No one else has touched me.”

Sirius groaned when he realized that you were angry. He quickly put out the cigarette and got out of bed.

“I’m sorry, love. Come here.”

You didn’t speak for a moment as Sirius wrapped his arm around you.

“Y/n, I’m sorry. That was on my mind for years.”

You were quiet for a moment before pulling Sirius back in bed with you. Sirius quickly wrapped the duvet around your bodies.

“Y/n?”

Your eyes rolled up to his. “Again, the answer is no. When you put this ring on my finger it meant that I was for you and you only.”

Sirius was relieved by the comment. The two of you lay in silence looking at the ceiling. Sirius’ long fingers stroked through your hair. After a few moments, Sirius chuckled.

“What?”

You asked. Sirius eased your leg over his hip.

“I never thought that we would be making love in my old bedroom.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought too. If Sirius’ mother was alive and knew what the two of you were in here doing she would have died of a heart attack!

“Right under the pictures of your muggle models in bikinis.”

You said with a smirk. Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Oh please! I put those up long before you agreed to be my girlfriend. You provided a lot better company than they did. You were such a tease in the beginning.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes!

“You are a fine one to talk about being a tease! You flirted with any girl that would look your way!”

Sirius shrugged.

“I couldn’t get the girl that I wanted to flirt with me no matter how shamelessly I tried...until that night on the Astronomy Tower. You had me under your spell and still haven’t let me go.”

“The things you say.”

You said, happily. The two of you lay in silence for a few moments. Sirius’ face went cold before looking down at you sadly.

“Remember the last time we were in this house?”

Your happy smile faded. Of course, you remembered! How could you forget the last time that you were here? You didn’t want to remember it but you couldn’t help thinking back on the memory.

It was two weeks after Sirius had proposed. The two of you sat in the study of Mr. and Mrs. Black’s living room. Had it been your way, the two of you would have never been here in the first place! Sirius was dead set on getting his grandmother’s engagement ring for you. It didn’t matter how many times you had tried to tell him that you didn’t need some grand ring to show his love for you; Sirius wouldn’t listen. You sat quietly at Sirius’ side as the two of you waiting for his mother to come into the room. Looking around the room, you couldn’t help but shiver. The house was so dark and cold! You glanced at your fiance and couldn’t help but wonder how horrible this had to be for Sirius? He hadn’t been home since he moved in with your family at 16.

His parents hadn’t written one letter to check on him! They didn’t care if their oldest son even had the things that he needed to survive! In fact, Regulus had let it slip to you in a conversation that Walburga blasted her son off of the family tapestry. Regulus had tried to reason with his mother briefly, however, once the possibility of losing grace in his mother’s eyes happened Regulus backed off.

You let your eyes glance back to Sirius. He didn’t look like the man that you had fallen in love with. Now he looked like the sullen boy that was in the Black family photos. He wasn’t the boy that always smiled and was full of jokes. His eyes didn’t deviate from the fire that was going in the fireplace. You wanted to tell him how handsome he looked in the dark suit that he was wearing but decided not to. Sirius didn’t seem like he was up for being told how handsome that he was at the moment.

Swallowing, you looked around the room again. The expensive black dress that you were wearing seemed suddenly hot. Sirius had bought it for you a week beforehand saying “it looked nice.” Reading between the lines, you decided it was to make the two of you look good upon visiting his parents. Sirius wanted to show his parents that he was making it just fine and was able to provide for his future wife without his family's money. That was only partially true though. If Sirius’ uncle had left him a very nice inheritance, the two of you would be like most new couples starting out. The two of you owed his uncle Alphard so much! Coincidentally, the two of you were most likely the reason that he was also blasted off of the family tapestry.

“What do you mean he is here?”

You felt Sirius tense when a shrill voice came from the other room. The sound of high heels clicking on the floor made your heart pound!

A moment longer Walburga stomped into the room with her husband at her heels. She was a beautiful woman but her beauty was all that she had! Orion, meanwhile, walked after his wife quickly. He looked as displeased to see his son as his wife did. It took all you had to swallow a fit of rage back You wanted nothing more than to tell Sirius’ family exactly what you thought of them. It wouldn’t matter though. As big headed as they were, it would probably roll right over their heads.

“What do you want?”

Walburga snapped in Sirius’ direction. Sirius gave his mother a brilliant smile and flipped his shoulder-length hair over his shoulder.

“Good to see you lot too. Don’t worry, this will not be a regular thing. I don’t expect invitations to Sunday tea or anything. I want grandmother Irma’s engagement ring. It was promised to me.”

Walburga and Orion looked at each other clearly thinking about their son’s request. Walburga was the first to speak. It wasn’t to Sirius but to you directly.

“I suppose you are the girl? Who are you?”

“She is Y/n Potter.”

Walburga scowled at Sirius.

“Can she talk or do you have to do that for her?”

“I can talk just fine, thank you.”

You replied coldly. Walburga raised one of her perfect eyebrows.

“Potter...hmm...I should have seen this coming. Your family is the reason that my son is no longer in our family.”

Sirius’ hand tightened on yours but you were not about to back down.

“Oh no ma’am, you have alienated your son yourself. My family has just taken him in and showed him the love that he clearly didn’t get from your lot. It must be truly dreadful being such a miserable egotistical old hag and would disown your own child for some pureblood nonsense! Shame on you...all of you!”

Walburga was stunned by your acidic tone. Clearly, no one had ever spoken to her in this tone. Regulus jumped up, hoping to diffuse the situation.

“At least she is a pureblood, eh?”

Walburga shook her head.

“That is why your family is the laughing stock of the pureblood families!”

Sirius jumped up, his handsome face twisted with rage.

“That’s it! Let’s go Y/n! I’ll buy you a much nicer ring that doesn’t have my family’s god awful reputation tied to it.”

You pulled yourself from the memory with a headshake. Sirius was looking up at the ceiling.

“Oh yes, I remember well. We were so young then.”

Sirius sat up as the sunlight began to pour into the room. He chuckled and looked back to you with a smile. “You sure showed that horrible old hag who was boss.”

You smiled, still proud of your comeback to Walburga.

“I would do it again too. I am going to go downstairs and help Molly with breakfast.”

Sirius gave you a pout.

“Harry will be here the day after tomorrow and I’ll have to be good!”

You slowly pulled on your abandoned dress.

“Yes, you will and we have all day today and all night. You’ll be just fine. Besides, you need to eat. You aren’t as young as you used to be.”

Sirius gave you a scowl and started buttoning up his shirt.

“That may be true but I think we can both agree I haven’t changed that much.”

You rolled your eyes before pressing a kiss to his chin.

“You can prove it to me later.”

When you walked into the kitchen, Molly looked up from the frying pan. She gave you a kind smile.

“Feeling well?”

You nodded eagerly and took the cup of tea that she held out to you.

“Much better now.”

Molly giggled and went back to her cooking. You drank your tea quietly for a few moments before turning to find something to do.

“What would you like me to do?”

Molly glanced over her shoulder.

“I seem to remember that you make wonderful eggs. I was telling Arthur not long ago how much I would love some of the strawberry jam that you used to make.”

Smiling, you made a mental note to surprise Molly with a jar later.

“Hint taken.”

You said.

“Are things better between Sirius and yourself now, dear?”

You nodded.

“They are. I mean we have a lot that we are going to have to work through. We’ve been apart for many years. I am sure there are things that have changed about ourselves that we will have to work through. There are things about him that I can tell are different. Azkaban has changed him, as you can imagine. It changed both of us.”

Molly watched with you with that motherly expression of concern that she wore so well.

“I’m sure it has. Everything will work out, dear. The two of you can get your lives back on track to the way they were supposed to. The two of you will make some lovely children.”

You looked down sadly feeling like you had been punched in the stomach.

“That won’t happen.”

Molly turned.

“What do you mean?”

You looked up and rubbed your forearm.

“I can’t get pregnant. Sirius and I found out not long after we were married. That’s why taking care of Harry was so important to us.”

Molly put her hands over her mouth.

“Oh, darling! I am so sorry!”

You shook your head.

“It's fine! You didn’t know and I have come to accept it.”

Molly still looked unconvinced.

“Well, I am going to go round up everyone for breakfast. You know, I have a couple of kids that I can loan you.”

You smiled.

“That’s tempting.”

Molly turned and walked out of the room feeling rather embarrassed and heartbroken.

You, meanwhile, looked down at the cup of tea in your hand. That feeling of soul-sucking sadness rolled in like it usually did when someone mentioned the aspect of children. You hadn’t thought about the time that you were given the awful news in some time. For the first time in a long time, you decided to lose yourself in that memory…

“We can go home.”

You looked up at Sirius as he made the idle comment. The two of you stood on James and Lily’s front doorstep about to go in for dinner. You shook your head.

“No, Sirius. I want to go. Besides, if we go home we will be just miserable. I want to see Harry. Lily has just been home from the hospital for a few days.”

Sirius only nodded. You could tell that he was still upset too. The two of you hadn’t said much since leaving the doctor. Sirius stood a moment before pulling you into his arms.

“Everything will be fine. We don’t have to have children to be happy.”

A moment later, the door opened stopping further conversation. James stood on the other side with his happy smile.

“There you two are! We’ve been wondering where you’ve been!”

You walked inside before Sirius and heard him muttering something about doctors taking forever. James laughed.

“Tell me about it!”

He wrapped his arms around you in a quick hug.

“Are you feeling alright?”

You only nodded. James' gleeful smile faded as he immediately knew something was wrong.

“Y/n?”

You shook your head as Lily walked in holding a small bundle. The last thing that you wanted was to spoil this moment with your nephew. Lily smiled as she placed baby Harry in your arms.

“Oh Lily, he’s adorable!”

You said, happily. Harry didn’t seem to be the least bit bothered by being jostled around for the moment.

“So when can we expect the two of you to have a little one? Harry will need a playmate.”

You slowly looked up to see Sirius shaking his head at James who was questioning his best friend silently.

“I might as well tell you both. We won’t be having children. Apparently, I can’t get pregnant. It's not from lack of trying either. We have been trying since we got married.”

Lily’s hands immediately went to her mouth as James put a hand on Sirius’ back.

“Sweetheart, I am so sorry!”

Lily said, fighting the tears. James quickly came in.

“Maybe you should get a second opinion?”

Sirius shook his head.

“It's alright, mate. We’ll just spoil the hell out of your kids. Like you can lend them to us and we can send them back to you flying on high on sweets. You know, now that I say that out loud...that doesn’t sound very good.”

You were pulled from the memory when a hand closed on your wrist. Jumping back, you froze seeing Severus Snape looking at you coldly.

“Have you lost your hearing in addition to your mind?”

You frowned, knowing this conversation wouldn't go well. The last time that you had seen your ex-friend, he was offering to marry you since “your bastard husband” clearly couldn’t do the job.

“Excuse me but I wasn’t listening to you in the slightest.”

Snape’s frown intensified.

“I see you are back with Sirius. While I am not thrilled about it I am not surprised.”

You rolled your eyes.

“What did you expect, Severus? I am married to Sirius! I love him! I have a chance to make things work with him and get a second chance at life. You can bet all of the dark magic in the world that I am going to take it.”

Snape didn’t say anything for a moment. He was half expecting you to say something colder. “He’s ruined you, you know. You used to be such a kind woman. Now you are snarky and cold as the rest of the Black family.”

You were horrified at that comment! The last thing that you were was anything like Walburga, Bellatrix, or any of those other crazies!

“You don’t know me at all.”

“Clearly.”

Snape replied before continuing.

“The moment you began dating Sirius you changed. You’re big-headed brother and darling husband made my life hell and you did nothing. Just like Lily.”

You threw the teacup that you were holding down and started for your wand.

“And you were a death eater! I didn’t know you either because my friend wouldn't have done any of those horrible things!”

Snape stepped back. The last thing that he was about to do was get into a full-fledged duel with you in the middle of a house. It didn’t matter if he liked you or not now, he still didn’t want to physically harm you.

“You don’t know what I would do because you were too busy playing house with Black! You had a pureblood husband and was busy making a name for yourself. After he was locked up, I wanted to care for you!”

You shook your head.

“I didn’t want you! I was married to whom I wanted!”

Snape laughed bitterly.

“It looks like you have what you wanted again. The two of you make the perfect little overachiever couple! It will be funny when you fall pregnant and have a child with a convict. The child will have a father that can’t leave the house. It will be amusing to watch.”

You had begun to tremble with rage by this point.

“You son of a bitch!”

“That’s enough!”

Both Snape and yourself turned to see Sirius standing in the doorway. His face was angry. The expression alone let you know that he had heard the whole conversation.

“Well well, Sirius. How kind the two of you are for coming out in public.”

Sirius glared at Snape. He wanted nothing more than to punch the other man in the face! Cursing him sounded like a better idea!

“You’re not to talk to her again. Maybe you forgot the hell that I made your life in school and I will be happy to do it again. Y/n, come on.”

Sirius’ hand locked around your wrist before pulling you from the room leaving Snape to his brooding...

______

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#harry potter #Sirius Black #sirius x reader #reader x sirius #remus lupin #molly weasley #arthur weasley #james potter #lily evans potter #walburga black #orion black #regulus black #ron weasley #hermione granger #harry potter fan fiction #severus snape #Ben Barnes as Sirius Black #in the light #In the Light Chapter 2

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addictofsupernatural · 5 years ago

Text

Mind Readers

Harry Hook x reader

Soulmate au

Based on: this request

Requested by: @descendantofthesparrow

Summary: Soulmates can read each other's minds, so you and your soulmate communicate with each other, no matter how far apart you two are.

Warning: some angst (lots of fluff tho)

Word Count: 6305

Everyone has a soulmate, one that's always connected with you by mind. When you have a soulmate, you are able to read each other's thoughts. And that's what you did all your life.

Being the daughter of Moana felt a bit lonely. You would always voyage everywhere, so it would make sense for you to be connected with your people, but you weren't. You felt like the odd one out, especially when you announced that your soulmate is from the Isle.

You tried talking to your mom, but she was always busy. She would get even more distant with you when you'd ask about your father. She said that she loved him, but they couldn't stay together. She wanted to continue voyaging, and he wanted to stay.

So all you had left was the sea, Pua's children, and your soulmate. If felt better to talk with a person than a bunch of pigs though. It started off when the two of you were kids.

Hey again.

Hiya. You could hear the Scottish accent.

I wish I could see you, so I could give a big hug.

I've never gotten a hug before.

It's okay, because once you and I are together, I'll always give you hugs whenever you ask for them.

I don't think we can, y/n. I'm a villain, and yer a hero.

That's not true! It'll happen, promise.

You grew up talking to him through your mind. You also felt connected with him by the sea. You dreamed about going on a ship with him, sailing the sea together and enjoying the ocean. The ocean was a friend of yours.

One day your mother told you that you won't be voyaging anymore, and instead going to school in Auradon. This was your chance. You had tried talking to people about the Isle of the Lost, tried to convince that maybe the children shouldn't be in there. But no one listened. They saw you as a freak, and made jokes of you being a villain. All you had was Harry, and you were fine with that.

But someone finally did listen. Ben talked to you about it, and agreed. He said that when he would be crowned king in about a year, he'll have some children of villains to attend school with us to show others that they aren't the bad ones.

You were ecstatic.

Harry~!

Why ye thinkin so loud, princess?

So I just made my first human friend, apart from you of course, and he said that he agrees with me. His name is Ben, and he's the King's son.

Ben, hm? Is he as good looking as I?

I don't know how you look like, but you're probably more handsome than anybody I know. But sh, listen! He's going to be king in about a year, and he said that he's going to bring some VK's to Auradon to show that they can be good!

I have to wait a whole year?! I want to see ye now princess.

We just have to be patient. We'll be together, Harry. Don't give up hope. Please, for me?

Fine. But when I get there I'm showing em how a pirate can truly be.

He heard your amazing laugh ring through his head. You got yourself a deal, pirate. But just not too much, okay? I want to stay with you once I got you.

Like a fish on hook, eh? You could practically hear the smile from that.

Exactly. I gotta focus on homework now. Talk to you later hookie.

Bye fishy.

"Harry!" The angry voice of Uma snapped him out of his conversation with you. "You wanna cut the daydreaming and get to work?"

This would happen a lot. Harry would be talking to you when he was supposed to be doing stuff. He didn't really care, as long as he got to hear your voice. Usually when you weren't talking to one another he would just block out what you were thinking.

You're the reason that he's usually so cheerful, although in a bit of a crazy way. You always talked him out of his fits of rage, reassuring him that he'll always have you.

He'd make the excuse that his dad had the same levels of anger, but you told him that he was better than his father. That's why he listened to you. Everybody on the isle tried to live up to their parents, but here you were saying that his dad could live up to him. That's how he knew that you were worth waiting for.

As he was occupied with his crew, you had made your first friend, Ben. It was nice having someone to physically talk to, at least until Audrey showed up. She didn't like you, and you didn't like her.

"You know what y/n, I'm sure you wouldn't want to be sitting here with us." She said cheerfully one day at lunch. "You'd probably rather be talking to your soulmate, since that's really your only friend, right?"

You looked at Ben, who didn't say anything. "Um, okay."

When you left, he decided to speak up. "I don't see what the problem is with her sitting with us."

"Ben, she has been filling your head with crazy talk of villain kids being good. You've heard, right? That her soulmate is a villain?"

"Yeah, and I don't see a problem with that. As long as they love each other, it shouldn't matter."

She annoyedly shook her head. "Let's just eat, kay?"

Meanwhile, you went to your unshared room and began to tear up. You just didn't understand why nobody liked you. Although you didn't realize it, you were thinking about how horrible Audrey was.

What's wrong princess? Those are a lot of nasty thoughts about this Audrey girl.

Sorry Harry. It's nothing.

Hard to believe that when ye were sayin some not so nice things.

I know, and I shouldn't be thinking that way about anyone! Ugh, I must be a bad person for thinking this way about people.

Bad person? You heard laughter. Las, you're my hero. It's okay to be thinkin those things about people. Nobody but me will hear ye.

Tears silently fell as you sat on your bed crying. You didn't have to pretend to be anything around him. I just lost my only physical, human friend. All because of his horrid girlfriend who loves to comment on how amazing she is. She isn't even his soulmate.

Well I guess I don't have any more competition for ye now.

You never did hooky. You know you're the greatest thing in my life, but it was nice to have company. I just hope that she doesn't fill his head with dumb stuff about villain kids being bad.

It'll be okay princess. Some day we'll be together, remember?

Yeah. Thanks for listening Harry. You're the best, as always.

Ye welcome love.

A few months later, Ben had been trying very hard to talk to you. You didn't know why, especially now, but you didn't care. If he wanted to leave a loyal friend for some bully, then he wasn't worth your time. At least that's what Harry told you.

Until he followed you to room without you noticing. Before you closed the door, he ran up to your room and stopped you from closing it. "Y/n please. I want to talk."

"Talk to your girlfriend." You tried to close the door again, but he wouldn't budge.

"Audrey wouldn't understand." He looked a little sad, but dating her was his choice.

"Ben, you're a prince. You could talk to all of your other friends, since you probably have so much."

"No, I really don't have that many friends."

You fake smiled. "Gee, I wonder what that's like. Bye now!"

"Y/n please, it won't be more than ten minutes." He said. He sounded desperate. "Please."

You said nothing, but opened the door wider and gestured for him to come in. He came in, pacing back and forth until he noticed you just staring at him. He then stopped but still antsy. "Uh, take a seat."

"No, it's okay. I'm okay. Sorry, I'm just nervous-"

"Ben sit. What's wrong?"

He took a seat at your chair where your desk is. "I'll be king in two months, and I have no idea what to do or how to lead. A king should be able to know what decisions to make and how to help his people."

You sat at the edge of your bed. "Well, what do you think would be good for the people?"

"The Isle. The people there will also be my people too, and it's not fair to the children on evil people to be stuck there. When you talked to me about that for the very first time, I was already thinking about it. For my first proclamation I need a citizen to agree with what I propose."

"And what are you going to propose?" You were praying for what you think he's going to say.

"For some of the villain kids to be brought to Auradon. I want you to be my citizen-"

You ran up to him and gave him a hug. "I'll do it. I'lldoitI'lldoitI'lldoit!"

He laughed. "That's great news. We'll finally get to meet our soulmates."

You were out of breathe for some reason. "Yeah!" Then you thought again about what he said. "Wait, what do you mean we?"

You both talked some more, and you understood why he saw what you saw. His soulmate was a VK. He didn't know which VK, since she tried blocking out her thoughts when discovering that he was the son of the king. You told him that you'd talk to Harry about it to see if he knows anything.

Harry pulled a few strings, but found out that her name was Mal, the daughter of Maleficent. Ben was ecstatic, saying that he would have her be one of the people who come, and will slowly get to know her so she would realize that they're soulmates.

"Go ahead and pick your three people, and those three, along with Mal, will be the ones that I choose." You quickly chose the daughter of Ursula, son of Gaston, and most importantly, the son of Hook.

You were so excited to be able to hold Harry and look into his eyes and kiss him whenever you wanted. You waited for two months, time going by slower that you could ever think. Finally the day had come, and you were in the room when Ben announced his first proclamation to his parents. They were unsure, but allowed it. Everything was going to be written and delivered for the limo to get them, until Audrey showed up.

"I'm sorry, but I found these notes regaurding Ben's first proclamation, and I don't think this is a good idea!"

"They already agreed. The deal can't be undone or else they will be dishonest and untrustworthy about their word." You argued.

They told her that you were right, but she was ready for that. "If you can't undo this, then I have a better way to rearrange this."

She proceeded to talk about how the daughter of Maleficent didn't get along with the other three from what an anonymous source told her. She said that it was most important to gain the trust of the daughter of the evilest villain, so the three VKs would have to be changed. To Mal's three friends.

Bell and her husband agreed. You ran out of the room, Ben running after you. You made it outside before you began to breathe hard, finding it harder and harder to maintain breathing. Ben rushed to your aid and calmed you down as you had a panic attack.

Meanwhile, Harry didn't take the news too well either. He was heartbroken. He was angry, but more importantly devastated. He shoved his way to his small room on the ship and went inside, laying down and crying his heart out. He wanted to be with you, feel you, love you with all his might. But good things didn't happen to villains.

Once you were okay Ben made you another deal. If the four VKs coming so good with their stay at Auradon, then it'll be easy for him to bring others once he's king. You nodded.

When the four of the villain kids came, Ben had asked you to be there as well. You found them fun and easier to be around than the fake, royal students at Auradon Prep. As you showed Mal and Evie to their dorm, you joked with them about Auradon and Audrey.

"You know, you're not like other princesses here." Mal said.

"Oh, I'm not a princess. I'm the daughter of the village chief, and it's not like I have my own castle or anything. We're voyagers, so we go where the ocean takes us."

"Eh, must be tiring to always travel with your people. But whatever, you here are all probably full of friends wherever. You just enjoy yourself anywhere you are with your buds."

You let out a laugh. "Hardly. The only friends I have are pigs, chicken, the ocean and Ben. Nobody likes to be around me after they found out about my soulmate." It just slipped out of your mouth. You didn't know why you were nervous since they're villain kids, but you still felt that people wouldn't like you for it.

"Who's your soulmate?" Evie asked.

"Um, the son of a villain." You said nervously.

Both stopped you. "Your room should be right there." You pointed.

"Back up a second, your soulmate is one of us?" Mal asked. You nodded. "Is it Jay or Carlos?"

"What? No, it's someone else. He was originally supposed to come, but Audrey, being the home wrecker that she is, changed that."

"Come on, we need to talk about this is private." Evie said, the two of them dragging you to the room. They pushed you inside that closed the door.

"So, who is it?"

"Um, Harry Hook."

They looked at each other. "Harry Hook?" Mal asked. "As in Uma's little henchman?"

"I think he's think of cute." Evie said.

Your ears perked. "Is he?! It's not like I've ever seen him, so I was just wondering." You said very fast, voice full of hope.

"He's no prince, but he's nice to look at." Evie said, taking your hands. You smiled and went back to your room to talk to Harry. He had rarely left his room.

Hey Harry.

...

So today I heard that you were handsome. I guess I hit the jackpot. Kind, funny, and attractive. Who would've known?

That doesn't matter.

I know, it's just a bonus. The sound of your giggles filled his head. He weakly smiled.

How are ye so hopeful?

Because if I give up, then I won't be able to have you in my arms. You're my soulmate, which means that we're perfect for each other. I don't wanna give up on my perfect match.

He felt better. He felt special. Somebody cared for him that much. I like ye.

I like you too.

Over the course of a few months a lot happened. The four VKs, who you befriended, decided to be good, Ben was made king, and Mal was going to be a lady of the court. Until she decided to run away. That's when everything went downhill, and Ben ended up captured.

You were walking to your dorm and passed by Carlos and Jay's room. Their door was open, and they were talking to Chad. "Look, Ben's been captured." You stopped in your tracks to listen. "And if we tell anyone he's dead meat, so we don't have time for your weirdness." With that you took off to grab swords from the supplies closet and waited outside.

When you saw the two outside you stepped out of hiding. "I'm coming."

They both jumped and turned around to see you with swords in a bag. "What are you talking about?" Jay asked. "We're going...to the... Waffle House."

"Nice try. You guys are going to the Isle to save Ben. I'm coming, period." You stared them down, and they reluctantly agreed. You excitedly walked to the limo. "Let's go!"

As you focused on preparing yourself for a fight, your mind slipped off of the fact that you were going to the place that your soulmate was. When you got there you gave Mal and Evie a hug. "Y/n, there's something you should know," Evie said.

"There's no time, E, we gotta go." Mal said.

You smiled at her. "You can tell me after."

You then all went to where Ben was being held captive. A pirate ship. You looked at the others. Jay spoke up, looking down. "We didn't know how to tell you."

You were taking bigger breathes now, not knowing how to handle this. "Let's just, let's just get Ben."

They nodded. Carlos side hugged you, and you side hugged back. He was always the sweet one. You then started to focus on Harry's thoughts. They were about Ben, and Mal, and the wand. He was thinking about being with you when they get the wand.

Harry.

What are ye doin up so late princess?

I know about everything your doing right now.

...

Harry this isn't the way to do things.

Love, I'm tired of waiting. We'll be together y/n. Don't ya want that?

Of course I do, but not like this.

It'll be fine, I'll have them go easy on yer friends.

Harry you know I'd protect my friends. One of them being Ben.

I'll talk with ye later. And with that he blocked you out. You huffed. He's always been so one track minded.

You all got there. Mal and Uma were arguing, and soon she took notice of you. "I see you brought one of your little princess friends. Hope none of us villains smudged your tiara."

"I'm not a princess." You said, voice sturdy. "I'm a Voyager."

Harry's smile that he had on quickly fell. "Is that..."

Ben heard his mumble. "Yes, it is. That's y/n, your soulmate."

Before he knew it, Uma called out for him. He snapped out of his thoughts, tugging a tied up Ben with him. Uma had him cut the ties, and gave them the wand. In a blink of an eye there was a sword fight. The wand was a fake, and they couldn't let the heroes go. They were villains after all.

Harry's mind went off of you as he fought, and he was at his overly bubbly self. That was, until he made his way to you. Immediately he put down his sword.

"Y/n." He said. You looked at him confused, until you looked down and saw that he was holding a hook. You looked up at him. "Princess, it's me."

You drop the sword and run up to him, immediately wrapping your arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around your waist in return. "You don't know how badly I've wanted you." He said lowly in your ear.

"Do you trust me?" You asked. He looked at you, confused. Please say yes.

"Of course I'll say yes, las." He smiled as he looked down at you.

"Good." You slip out of his arms and grab his hand, jumping off the dock and into the water, taking him with you. Harry expected to crash into the sea, but the water went up, gently putting you in the ocean.

As you both floated in the sea under the docks, Harry pulled your waist and brought you in for a kiss. You put your hands on his face as he tilted to deepen the kiss. You pulled back for breath, putting your hands on his shoulders. "I've waited all my life for that." You said as both your foreheads were pressed against each others. "I figured we shouldn't be seen."

"How do you plan on gettin back up las?"

"The ocean's a friend of mine." You gestured to the water that was moving up on its own, waving at the two of you. Harry smiled in awe and hesitantly waved.

"I don't want to let ye go princess." His blue eyes gazed down at you.

"It'll be okay Harry. I'll ask Ben to bring you with me. Now that he's seen the island he'll sympathize."

He looked away from you. "Are ye sure? I may have threatened him a bit." He pressed his lips together.

You brought your hand to his cheek, having him look back at you. "Yes, I'm sure. He forgave the other four for trying to steal fairy godmother's wand, so I'm sure he'll forgive you."

"What if he won't let me there?" He looked like he was in pain. Soulmates are supposed to be together, having them apart puts an emotional strain on each other.

"Then I'll come back and stay here."

"Princess-" you cut him off with a kiss on the corner of his mouth. You knew he wouldn't want you staying here. But you didn't care.

"I want to be together. I don't care where I live." You heard Evie calling your name. "Dip your head under the water to make it look like you fell."

You both did so, the ocean gently bringing you both back up. He grabbed your hand. "So beautiful."

You gently squeezed his hand. "Bye hooky."

"Bye fishy." You then went back to your friends. You looked back, the smudged eyeliner on him making his bright eyes even more piercing.

As you went back to Auradon in the limo, you sat in the front with Jay, looking out the window as silent tears fell down your face. Evie wanted to make you feel better, and designed a dress for you to go to cottilion. Although you didn't want to go, she was convinced that this would make you happier.

As you were in a white and peach dress at cotillion, you stared out at the sea, wandering what it would be like if Harry was there with you. If he took your hand to dance with him. If you were in his arms. If he leaned down to kiss you.

Harry heard all these thoughts, and was so excited to finally be with you. He shut out his thoughts from you temporarily, and got ready. He put on red leather pants with his red long sleeved jacket. Underneath he had a white button up with ruffles and a loose red tie, as well as fingerless gloves.

Meanwhile, you sucked up your sadness and out on a smile as you saw Mal come down. A moment later Ben came down, and, to the horror of everyone present, Uma as well.

As you questioned her, she dropped a surprise on you. "I figured that you deserve happiness too, y/n, so I didn't come alone."

Everybody watched as Harry stepped out, walking straight up to you, bowing and kissing your hand. He smiled as he came up. You hesitated, not knowing if this was a dream or not, then brought him into a big hug. He hugged back, feeling complete.

"Harry, what's going on?" You said as you pulled back.

"I can be with ye now, princess." He smiled, putting his hands on your waist.

You put your hands on his face gently. "You know that's not what I mean. What's going on with Uma? Is she planning something?" He looked away from you. The only ones who were next to you were Mal and Evie. Harry!

You tried to read his mind, but couldn't. He blocked his thoughts from you. "I can't betray Uma."

"Hooky," you said quietly. "Look at me." His sad eyes looked into yours. "Please. Do Uma and Ben really love each other?" He didn't say anything, and that was all you needed. You understood, that was his friend who was probably just as loyal to his as he was to her. You then faced Mal. "Does she know how to use love spells?"

It seemed like something clicked inside Mal's head. "My spell book! I left it on the island. She must have gotten it."

After Mal confronted Uma and Ben, she and him kissed, breaking the spell. True love's kiss. Uma and Mal were about to fight after turning into an octopus and a dragon, but Ben stopped them. Uma left, feeling bad and leaving Harry.

After the Cotillion, you talked with Ben about bringing more VKs to Auradon, with Harry right behind you. He was trying his best to behave himself, in fear of losing you again. Ben agreed and even allowed Uma and Gil to come as well.

After this, Harry didn't let you out of his sight. Everybody seemed to be afraid of the impulsive pirate, but you didn't care. You were always on your own, you didn't care what the others thought. As long as you were with your soulmate, you didn't care.

He had two periods with you, sitting next to you in both since everyone was afraid of him. About a week later, the new VKs arrived. Gil greeted Harry with a hug, while Uma looked around. Her eyes then landed on you. "You don't seem like much, princess."

This took you by surprise. How were you supposed to respond to that. "Sorry?" You squeaked.

Harry walked behind you, grabbing your waist and putting his head on your shoulder. "Oh, but she is Uma. So much." He gently squeezed you, igniting a giggle from you for being ticklish. You smiled and put a hand on his cheek.

As it turned out, Ben arranged for you to share your room with Uma. You put on a weak smile and thanked him. He was just trying to be a good friend, but something told you that Uma wasn't going to be the kindest to you.

Day after day, she tried everything to push your buttons. She wanted you to get angry. There was no particular reason why, she just wanted to see it. She's never met someone so shy and nice before, it got on her nerves.

She would never pick up, use your stuff, 'accidentally' break things, leave wet towels on the floor, and laughed you off every time you kindly asked her to please stop.

But that wasn't the worst thing. Worst of all, she never let you sleep. She would make noice or leave the light on. Sometimes she would train at night.

This took a big toll on you. Everyone noticed, but you brushed it off. Of course, nobody believed you. Harry confronted you about it, especially because you too tired to block your mind from the thoughts of what Uma was doing.

When he did confront you, you were so out of it that you just hugged him, snuggling into his chest and taking in his warmth. "You're so warm Hooky."

His flustered mind didn't know what to do, so he just hugged back. When you pulled away you kissed his cheek, caressing the other with your hand. "What can I do to help ya, princess?"

You shook your head with tired eyes and a gentle smile on your face. "Nothing. It's okay though, I'm fine. I have to get to class."

After you took off Harry went over to Uma. He opened the door to your dorm room to see a mess everywhere. But it was all Uma's stuff. "Bit of a mess we got here, isn't it?"

She looked up from her tv. "Harry, hey. Just living life in Boradon with your girl."

"Why is she so tired Uma?"

Uma laughed. "Right, that. That's because I want to see how long until I break her. She's always little miss perfect shy princess, but everyone's got their bad side. I just want to see hers."

"Uma let the las be. Ye know she means a lot to me."

"Don't worry Harry, I'm just having a little fun."

Harry huffed, not knowing what to do. He exited the room as he thought over the situation. He went to class, not really paying attention to what the teacher was saying, but more on you.

When he returned to his room after class he was in for a pleasant surprise. He found you curled up on his bed, sound asleep. This then happened frequently, not that Harry or Gil minded. Harry found your sleeping form cute, and you and Gil had become good friends.

There was one particular night where you had it with Uma, and you spoke up. "Turn the music off Uma, I'm trying to sleep."

She looked up from her phone that blasted out music. "Oh, I'm sorry princess. Did I mess with your beauty sleep?" Her smile made you angrier than ever.

"What the hell is problem with me? What did I ever do to you?" This made her sit up.

"Oh princess, you've done nothing wrong. I'm just simply evil, in case your royalty brain forgot that."

You stood up from your bed and put on your normal clothing. You couldn't stay here, not when Uma was trying to drive you crazy. "You don't have the right to call me that!" You said as you put on your shoes. "I'm not a princess, and I'm not royalty!"

She scoffed. "I was wondering when that whole nice girl act would wear off."

"It's not an act, it's called a personality Uma! You should try to get one."

She then stood, anger coming to the surface. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me! Every VK here is happy here. Just because your parents are villains doesn't mean that your a villain too. The four original VKs are living honest lives that they love, Gil finally doesn't have to try to be tough since he could never hurt a fly, and Harry is the sweetest person I've ever met. They're all so happy to live their lives here. But not you Uma. You just want to make others miserable to satisfy yourself! Let me give you some advice, people will like you more if you stop messing with their lives and start living one of your own!"

And with that you slammed the door, leaving a speechless Uma. You stomped over to a certain dorm and knocked, being greeted by Gil. "Oh hey y/n. Everything okay?"

Harry stood from his bed. He heard your fast and frustrated thoughts running through his mind. "Yeah, yeah I'm good. Um, is it okay if I sleep here? Please?"

Gil immediately understood. "If you want I could sleep in your room and you could take my bed."

You hugged him. "You're awesome Gil. Thank you." He smiled and headed to your room. Harry stared at you the whole time. "Did you hear everything?" You said quietly with your head down.

He nodded, walking toward you and wrapping his arms around you. It was then you fully realized that he was shirtless. The warmth of his skin made you feel safe and able to talk. "Maybe I shouldn't have said those things." You didn't look at him.

You couldn't help but feel bad about what you said. You barely had any friends, and you felt self-conscious about your personality. Maybe this was the reason why people stay away from you.

"Fishy, look at me." You looked up at him with sad eyes. "It's not a bad thing for ye to stick up for yourself. Don't feel bad for it. I'm proud of ye."

You smiled and kissed his cheek. "I think you're rubbing off on me Harry."

He then pecked your lips. "I think you don't have anything to wear to sleep y/n." He was right. You had put on your normal clothing to go to the dorms. "Don't worry princess, I'll let ye borrow some of mine."

So there you were, coming out of the bathroom, feeling extremely shy as Harry sat up from his bed to stare at the huge shirt on your short figure. You felt your face burn up as he didn't take his eyes off of you for a second. "What?" You laughed nervously.

He got up and took your hands in his. "You look beautiful las. So beautiful."

He then walked backwards and lead you to the bed. "Wait, Harry-" Do ye trust me? You smiled. "Of course I'll say yes."

"Don't worry princess, I just want to hold ye." He smiled at you as you both laid down on the bed. He didn't need to tell you that he was touch starved, you knew. He buried his face in your neck as you ran your fingers through his hair, both of you dozing off.

When you woke up you let out a content sigh as you kissed the top of his head. Mornin' las.

You smiled. Morning Harry.

I'm a bit hungry. How about we have ourselves a little breakfast date, hm?

"Sounds like a plan." You felt him smile against your neck and hug you, rolling you over and causing you to giggle. You got up, putting on your clothes but leaving his shirt on, which he loved.

As you two were enjoying yourselves by the docks eating your plates of breakfast, Audrey came stomping by. "Sorry to bother your little low budget date, but King Ben wants to see you both."

You both came into his office with Audrey leading the two of you, head held high. Uma and Gil were standing inside as well. "Ben, what's this about?" You asked.

Audrey spoke up instead. "There's a chance that these pirates could be getting sent back to the isle."

"What?" You all exclaimed.

"Now, hang on a minute." Ben said, standing up from his chair. "Let's not act too rashly about this Audrey."

She chose to ignore this. "It's against the rules for any males to be sleeping in the female dorms, and the same goes for girls in the boys dorms. I saw with my own eyes Gil go into your dorm room last night, and people have seen you frequently go into their room." She crossed her arms. "Care to explain yourselves?"

"We're sorry, we didn't know that it was against the rules." You said. "There wasn't any harm done anyway."

"Aren't you two weirdos soulmates? Who's to say that you two aren't doing anything gross when you sleep in his room? And is that his shirt you're wearing?"

"First of all, asking what we do at night is the creepiest thing ever Audrey." She gave you a look. "Which is, for the record, nothing. People say that their going to sleep somewhere to sleep." You then pointed at her. "You're disgusting."

"Hey, guys let's be civil." Ben meekly said, offering an awkward smile.

"She was never civil with me. I'm done trying to be nice to someone who only cares about herself."

"You dare speak to me like that? I am a princess. You are some traveler who never stays in one place for long. You've lived on a boat." She then scoffed. "No wonder why you're friends with pirates."

"Excuse me?" Uma was now offended.

You put a hand on Uma's arm, giving her a smile. "It's okay Uma, I know how to deal with girls that have a silver spoon up her ass." Audrey gasped. You then turned to her. "Gee Audrey, it's so weird that you're trying to insult us, when we're all happy with our lives. You, on the hand, find it necessary to try to make yourself happy by having others below you." You put a hand to your heart. "It makes me sad that you can't just go on with your own life. I mean, it must get boring to do nothing but sit and judge people all day in your palaces. I encourage you to get a hobby, but, trust me, involving yourselves in other's lives isn't the right one."

She looked at you angrily before running out of the room. Sweet innocent Gil spoke up. "Um, can we go now?"

"Unfortunately, no." Ben said. "A rule was still broken and action must be given. Why were you sleeping in each other's dorms?"

Uma looked at you, ready for you to speak up and cause her to be punished. But you didn't. You were silent. Gil cleared his throat. "Um, so Uma-"

"It's my fault." You said, your expression blank. "The full story doesn't matter. It was my idea, and accept all responsibility."

"Are, are you sure?" Ben asked. "Honestly the only one who could be punished is Uma. I've seen how tired you've been." Uma looked at you, a tiny bit of fear in her eyes. She didn't want to go back.

"Uma didn't do anything. Like I said, I accept full responsibility." You smiled at him, and he nodded his head.

You ended up getting a three day suspension. You silently thanked the Gods that your mother was busy at sea to know this. As you were going to walk back to your room, Uma grabbed your wrist. "Hey. I just wanted to say thank you. I went too far."

"It's fine." You smiled at her, and she smiled back.

"Well las," Harry said. "You have three days off. What are we gonna do?"

You put your hands on his cheeks. "You have class."

"Eh, I got my soulmate right here. That's all I need." He wrapped his arms around your waist.

"You are positively evil, Harry Hook, and I love you for it."

"And you, my wee little princess, are the love of my life. I love you too." He then kissed you, with ever ounce of love and devotion in it. It felt right. He was your soulmate, after all.

-------

Author Note: So I just watched Descendants 3 and this kinda contradicts it, but this is set kinda between 2 and 3

#descendants x reader #descendants fandom #descendants fanfiction #descendants 2 #descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook

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letsperaltiago · 4 years ago

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we’ll sweep out the ashes in the morning |CHAPTER 7|

Even in the middle of New York's freezing month of February, a scandalous familiar fire is ignited within Jake and Amy when they run into each other after years apart. Luckily there's nothing wrong with being caught up in a fire that has to die out soon, right?

Read chapter here or on AO3

CHAPTER MASTERLIST HERE

Being a cop, experiencing so much harm, hopelessness, chaos and everything in-between, was the hardest thing he’d ever have to handle.

Or that’s what he thought right up until the moment Jake stood on the doorstep to Sophia and, weirdly, his apartment in an attempt to get himself to come forward and confess to what he’d done - or just knock on the door would be a good start. For the last minutes, he didn’t even remember how many at that point, he’d been restlessly pacing back and forth outside the front door to their, his and Sophia’s, so-called “home”. But it being Brooklyn it was probably just a matter of time before someone would call the cops on him since he did look kind of disturbed and creepy: he couldn’t keep pacing forever.

His heart was beating so fast; so fast he was absolutely persuaded of having never experienced any similar feeling before. Another thing he noticed, he could’ve sworn, was that he could hear every pumping movement his heart uttered, which made no sense considering he simultaneously felt lightheaded and like no oxygen was getting to his brain. Man, he had messed up so hard. Not only with Amy, but with Sophia too.

Nevertheless he didn’t get much more time to consider, suffer and make up his mind, in reality none at all, because a loud repetitive knock from inside the apartment beat him to it and completely threw him off guard.

“Who’s there!?” he could hear a woman’s voice yell from inside the apartment: Sophia, of course. Her sounding upset was an understatement. “I’ve been hearing pacing and mumbling for the past 5 minutes so don’t act like no one’s there! I can and will call the police!”

Oh, shit - no more time to think. He had to just jump, head in first and… do whatever he could. Either that or cops, probably from his own precinct, would be there to arrest him within 5 minutes.

“No no no, please don’t! It’s me Jake!”

The yelling and warning bangs from her side of the door seized but probably not because, if he knew her well enough, she was relieved. Not that he’d expected her to be though; he couldn’t even begin to imagine how she was feeling, abandoned by the person whom she thought she would spend the rest of her days with, and now, without her knowledge, he was back to make it even worse.

“Can we talk?” He called out.

Silence. 5… 10… 15… seconds.

“I don’t think we have anything to talk about, Jake. I think where you stand has been made very clear.”

Venom coursed through her voice, every syllable, word and sound, which Jake couldn’t even blame her for: he deserved it. All she’d done was love him, saying yes to loving him forever when he had asked her to marry him, and all it’d gotten her was being left on her wedding day; being cheated on though she wasn’t even aware of this. Yet.

“You don’t have to say anything; you don’t even have to look at me… I just need to-“ he cut himself off trying to think of the right words to say though he knew nothing would ever be perfectly right. “I need to come clean: lay it all out on the table. I’m a the world’s biggest dick, and I’m not here to try to convince you of the opposite… Let me just explain a few things, okay? Please, Sophia…”

A sigh full of regret put a period to what he had to say; what he could say as he stood outside the gates to confession waiting to learn if his admission of guilt would be welcomed. On top of this he also felt deep regret knowing he’d hurt an incredible woman, knowing he could’ve acted so much more wisely, but also at the same time not regretting every moment he’d gotten with Amy.

Then, to his surprise, the door swung open revealing an exhausted-looking Sophia clad in sweatpants and being the exact opposite of what he knew her for: put together, cool, always on the move, determined. He’d done this to her and, if possible, he now hated himself even more.

“Hey,” to say smiling felt inappropriate was some understatement as he put on a weak one, but he didn’t know what else to do. Scream? Cry? He sure did feel like it. The smile ended up being the less weird option although it didn’t earn him one in return and that was okay.

Another tense silence, one more than before now that the door was no longer present as a buffer between them, crept up the stairs to where they were by the front door. It immediately let Jake know that no, he probably shouldn’t expect to be let in.

“I don’t have time for small talk, Jacob. Get to the point.”

Jacob. Oh, he was in so much trouble.

“Eh- okay,” his hands shifted uncomfortably in his jean’s front pocket, he took a deep breath and then jumped into the freezing ocean of truth: eyes closed, head first, can’t lose.

“So, first of all, I know this must mean nothing to you which is far beyond understandable, but just wanna say, again, how so very sorry I am for what I did to you - to us…” he paused to see if he should expect some kind of answer, reaction, the bare minimum but alas no. The only moving she did was crossing her arms defensively in front of her chest as if she was gearing up for war. His most qualified guess was that this was his cue to continue.

“…and I’m not here to rub salt in the wound and this might be selfish, I’m not really sure anymore, but I need to tell you the truth. The whole truth.”

This to some extent seemed to catch Sophia’s attention, a sudden curiosity lighting up her darker than usual eyes as if she was a kid who’s just been told they’re going to be let in on a secret. Only this secret surely wouldn’t make her feel any good.

“A few months back, in February, something happened and I already should’ve told you back then but I didn’t because I was a confused and a huge stupid coward and I didn’t know how to tell you.”

From the look on her face Jake could tell that Sophia was slowly starting to put the pieces together. It was only a matter of words, no matter how carefully picked they were on his part, before she would crack the code and know. The secret would be out with taking it back being no option.

“Remember that night I said I was going to Shaw’s with a friend from work?” he tried, not expecting an answer but hoping she’d recall which would allow him to spare her from the details.

Then a look of realisation, the last puzzle piece falling into its designated spot consumed the look on his almost-wife’s face. He could physically see the microsecond it all came together in her mind and it felt like witnessing someone pulling the safety pin of a grenade, and now he had to stay, stand his ground, and handle the explosion.

“Y-you…” she stammered before closing her eyes as to compose herself after the shock of the truth bomb. “You… cheated on me?” he could tell the word was laced with venom, tasting horridly in her mouth as she couldn’t believe she had to say it. “And you didn’t even have the balls to tell me!?” within seconds her voice transitioned from disbelief to loud, ringing anger.

What else could he do but comply? He knew he was the traitor; the culpable; the one in the wrong.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t give a shit about your apologies! I was here, by your side, working my ass off for this wedding and us, meanwhile you were out and about screwing some chick?”

The flinch Jake’s face upon hearing Amy be put on a par with ‘some random girl he’d just screwed’ was in no way discreet, and Sophia of course noticed. It was indeed inevitable that their relationship was over Jake knew that Sophia knew him well - they’d been together for long and about to get married after all. Also, she was a lawyer so there was really no where for him to hide. Her entire demeanour quieted down upon internally analysing the facts.

Jake Peralta, a good guy with no scandalous past, goes out to get drinks with “someone from work” and cheats on her, flinches when she belittles this other woman…

“I know her, don’t I?”

Perhaps yes he was coming clean about everything but still he didn’t exactly feel like exclaiming the mystery woman’s identity. Alas the silence he met Sophia with was enough of an answer. The wheels continuously turned inside her mind, so loud that Jake could’ve sworn that he could actually hear it.

Jake Peralta. Good guy. No scandalous past or track record. Drinks. “Someone from work”. Flinch.

There must be feeling involved. She knows her.

“Someone from work,” Sophia repeated out loud as to speed up the answer coming to her. It was all one big mess in her head but somehow comes together forming a perfectly clear answer.

“Amy… “ she tasted the name on her tongue trying to find the second half of it. “… Amy Santiago. The girl you used to work with back at the Nine-Nine.”

Another silence; another answer; another soundless yes. Suddenly Jake wished he’d never told Sophia about Amy. The two women had never met, but of course Jake couldn’t enter a relationship without bringing home a lot of shop talk, which involved anecdotes and pictures about his squad: ex-partner Santiago who’d by then moved on to work with Major Crimes included

“I can’t believe you went out and screwed an old colleague while I sat at home like the good, naive wife-to-be!” She cursed loudly after having gotten over the big blow of the mistress’ reveal. Jake flinched having no defence as he knew very well that he deserved the rough treatment. What he’d done to her was inconsolable and unforgivable.

“Fuck you, Jake,” her eyes and words were equally life-draining as they dug into him like daggers. “Fuck you for being with me, fuck you for telling me you loved me, for you for building a life with me, fuck you for proposing and the biggest of all fuck yous for almost leading me into a what was already a dead-end marriage.”

By then, having already threatened moments ago but had only actually fallen in the midst of her last outburst, tears were falling on her cheeks.

“I deserve every single ‘fuck you’ you have to offer and I’m so sorry, Sophia. Really, I truly deeply am and, not that it matters now, but I did love you and still do… It’s just-“

“I’m not her,” she finished his sentence for her making it much simpler than whatever long, intricate explanation he would end up forming. And she suddenly looked very calm; upsettingly calm and settled even.

Jake froze. He knew he was thinking it but didn’t exactly expect Sophia to catch up on it so fast.

“You might be the world’s worst person to me right now, and I’m not about to forgive it…” Her eyes for the first time tonight, through the tears, showed a sign of sadness, regret even, rather than anger like she’d come to realise something. “… But I also know that you’re a man who does love and probably did love me, even though it doesn’t feel like it right now, which is also why I know you would never do this to me if there wasn’t someone you…” she halted as if the words didn’t want to come out of her. “… if there wasn’t someone you loved even more, and I don’t want to be with you if there’s someone out there you love more than me. I don’t want to waste my life being someone’s number two: I jut wish you’d told me earlier… Or simply in a way that didn’t include screwing around.”

Jake had never considered the fact that perhaps he had what resembled love for Amy, but hearing Sophia somehow explain his mess to him though she was the victim, it suddenly seemed more clear and obvious than ever before.

“You’re worth much more than I can offer you, Sophia… And I’m sorry I didn’t communicate that properly.”

“Well…” his almost-wife had seemed to calm down although the clenching feeling in his gut, guilt, would surely stick around for some time. “Just make sure to at least offer that Amy something equal her worth. Don’t be an idiot twice.”

Jake nodded trying to change it all in; the switch in tone and mood, all the new facts hitting him harder than a storm.

“Did she know?” Sophia quizzed again after a moment of silence.

“What?”

“That you had me? That you were engaged?”

“Oh, uh…” Jake frowned hating that he knew the answer. Even though it didn’t matter he didn’t want what she did that night to represent Amy. But he couldn’t lie. Not anymore. “Yeah, I think… I believe I mentioned it.”

“Well,” Sophia took a moment to compose herself, grabbing the door as to get ready to close it. “Then perhaps you’re already offering her something equal to her worth.”

Between the confessing to Sophia and trying to win Amy back (is it ‘back’ if he never really had her?) Jake’s having a week from hell, and it very quickly turns out that talking to Sophia very surprisingly comes down to being the easiest task of the two.

It was a dark evening with clouds assembling threatening to spill rain and thunder covering the sky. Perhaps the weather knew how he felt; hopeless, somber, alone. After obviously not being able to stay in his and Sophia’s apartment anymore he’d offered to take the high road and move out - or at least move himself out along with a bag of clothes and bare necessities. The rest of his stuff would come around once he’d found a new place to call his own.

Until then he crashed at Charles’ which both he, Genevieve and especially nephew Nikolaj immensely enjoyed. Although he seemed not as happy and joking as usual, Nikolaj noticed, there was nothing better than spending evenings playing with his priceless collection of trucks and uncle Jake who always impressed him with conniving truck-sounds.

But as soon as the darkness and the moon reigned over New York, when Niko and his parents were fast asleep and the apartment was dead silent, Jake was left to himself in the guest room to ponder endlessly and hating himself so much more. At least during the day he could repress and distract himself from these thoughts and feelings.

The end of him and Amy, though he barely even knew what that meant anymore, suddenly seemed inevitable. Turned out that getting back in contact with a person whose trust you’d lost was harder than one would think - especially when you were obsessed, dying to be with said person, and she wouldn’t answer any calls, texts or voicemails which would allow you to explain.

Jake experienced this first hand as he dialled her number only to be met with her by now all too familiar voicemail.

“Ames, it’s me for the…” he took a brief glance at his phone immediately feeling slightly embarrassed by the sight of call list. “… 4th time today (20th time this week). Please, I’m begging you, pick up. I talked to Sophia and I’m-“ he searched his mind for the perfect words to say but they seemed so far gone, used up and meaningless by now. It already felt like he’d tried every way of wording possible to explain his renewed, honest intentions.

A deep sigh filled the pause before he preceded, slowly feeling himself slipping and giving up. “I miss you. I never meant to hurt you, and I know nothing will undo that I in fact did but please let me explain. I’m at Charles’. I’m staying here until I can find a new place to live and, yeah, Sophia is no longer in the picture. It’s just you, Amy. I just want you. Please call me back - or even just a text would be good too.”

He hung up before putting down his phone and turning over to lie sleeplessly, one more night to add to the list, in his lonely borrowed bed.

To no one’s surprise, least of all Jake’s, this declaration and plead number 20 wasn’t the one to convince Amy of giving him the time of day either. There was no way over, under or around the fact that she simply didn’t want to hear from him, and even less let him hear anything back. Though he was dying to explain himself, wanting nothing more than run to her apartment and kick down her door, tell her he wanted her, he also knew that wasn’t the way things worked. Maybe in movies but not in real life with real people, real feelings and real consequences.

No matter how badly he needed and missed her he respected her wishes, which seemingly was not seeing him. Giving up on her felt wrong, unreal and excruciating when just five days ago he’d been lying in bed with her in his arms in the warm morning sunlight. And though he wasn’t officially about to back down and give in to the screwed up circumstances that had gotten them here, there sure wasn’t much motivation left in him but one thing: Amy.

Seeing Amy. Talking to Amy. Apologising to Amy. Admiring Amy. Touching Amy. Loving Amy, someday when that word seemed rational. Anything with Amy, he wanted it and would go to great lengths to earn it.

That, all that, he hoped, would be enough to mend them again someday hopefully soon.

#Jake and Amy #peraltiago #jake x amy #peraltiago fanfiction #multichapter #fanfiction #jake peralta #Amy santiago #Santiago #peralta #ao3 #Brooklyn Nine-Nine #b99 #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #romance #jake #amy

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tessimagines · 6 years ago

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Wash Me Clean // Thomas Shelby - Part One

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary: The war hit the Shelby family hard, Thomas Shelby knows that. They all need help, so after some thinking, he decides to send a letter to the best Army Nurse he ever met. What will (Y/N) (Y/L/N) do with the letter she now holds in her hands?

You can find the series masterlist in my bio!

Warnings: Anger, yelling, swearing and struggle regarding WWI

Wordcount: 3.2k

A/N: Ahhhh! Here is the first part of my Tommy series. I hope you guys all enjoy it and please leave me some feedback! Also, Gif isn’t mine, so credit to the owner/creator.

Thomas felt his fingers grip the neck of the crystal decanter and pull the oval lid off, watching carefully as he poured the amber liquid into two round tumblers. He picked one up and brought it to his lips, the strong smell of the Irish whisky wafting up and tickling the hairs of his nose. The mouthful brought a slight burning sensation to his mouth, a feeling he had grown more than used to a long time ago. That was the thing with alcohol, it had the ability to become almost calming despite the way it would burn your lips and throat. Taking a final, deep breath, Thomas turned around and passed the other tumbler to his brother sitting just in front of him, leaning back onto the mahogany desk behind him.

Arthur rashly took a gulp of the amber whisky, scarcely flinching at the sharp feeling of it in his mouth. From the moment he had sat down, his legs had been shaking, hardly able to keep his nervous body still. It was one of the many things that had happened to Arthur Shelby since he had come back from the trenches in France and Turkey, there was never any peaceful moments left in his days. Or nights, either, Thomas supposed.

Thomas stared intently at his brother’s face. Arthur’s gaze was stuck on the whisky in his hands, his large and thick fingers rubbing back and forth along the rim of the tumbler. Thomas brought the crystal in his own hands to his lips, taking another sip of the whisky.

“So tell me, Arthur,” Thomas said, trying once more to get his brother to look him in the eye. “What is it you wanted to speak to me about?”

“I’m guessin’ you’ve heard about Billy Camden, then?” Arthur said, his gaze only daring to meet Tommy’s knees. Thomas gave a sigh and took another swig of his drink, quickly draining the tumbler in three goes. He placed it down on the desk next to him with an audible clunk.

“Look,” Arthur said at his brother’s sigh, only now raising his eyes to meet Tommy’s face. “It’s not like the way people are sayin’. I didn’t want to hurt him, Tommy.”

“Then tell me why you did, Arthur,” Thomas said bluntly. “Because I’m quickly running out of excuses to give people every time you beat someone to a pulp.”

“I don’t know!” Arthur shouted, his rasping, booming voice filling the small office. “It just happens! One minute I have Billy Camden shouting somethin’ at me and the next I’m on top of him. I can’t even remember gettin’ there most of the time. It’s… it’s like my anger just takes over, Tommy. I really don’t mean it.”

Thomas sat in silence for a while, leaving Arthur to hang on edge for his next words. He poured another whisky for himself, taking the crystal decanter over to fill up Arthur’s empty tumbler. He gave another sigh, placing a reassuring hand on his brother’s shoulder before kneeling down to become level with his eyes.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened, after all. There had been too many times since the war had ended that Arthur had found himself in this situation. And Tommy knew that he wasn’t the only soldier that had.

Tommy clapped his brother’s shoulder as Arthur’s grey eyes met his own. Placing a hand on the nape of his bother’s neck, he brought Arthur’s face closer to his own.

“It’s alright, Arthur.” He spoke the words softly, testing the air. “I believe you.”

“I really don’t mean it, Tommy,” Arthur repeated, his voice strained. Thomas could tell he was doing his best to keep his dignity and not cry. Despite the effort, little wet patches sat around the rim of his eyes and caused them to become bloodshot.

“I know,” Tommy reassured him. “I know. It was the war, eh? They wanted us like that in the war. To fight when we didn’t want to. It’s not you, Arthur, it was the fucking war, alright?”

“Yeah,” Arthur repeated after Tommy. “It was the fucking war.”

Arthur clapped his arms around his brother, bringing them both to a stand. He was breathing deeper now, reassured in the fact that he was right. It wasn’t really him that done what he did to Billy Camden. It was the war. The war that had brought so many men to unintentional violence and had caused so much grief and shame to Arthur in the process. If Tommy agreed, then he was right. And that was enough to calm Arthur’s mind and send him walking out of his brother’s office door.

Thomas stared after him, his mind beginning to tick. He’d had enough of the fucking war. Even though it was over, it still haunted him and his family every day. It followed them wherever they went. No matter how much whisky he drank or how much opium he smoked, it was there, the sound of the pickaxes hitting every wall around him.

Wherever Arthur went, the violence followed. Nobody knew who the next victim would be, and there were not many men that could stop Arthur when a violent rage would hit. And John, who had hardly had the chance to see his children in the last two years, felt that he barely knew them.

Thomas picked the tumbler of whisky up and swirled it around, bringing it up to his lips. He felt the drink burn his throat on the way down and felt her name on his lips, the only person he could think of when these thoughts of despondency would strike.

He had seen the way she handled screaming men. The way she would place a soft hand to their soaked and sweaty forehead, brush back their hair and whisper something close to their skin. She could silence the last screams of a dying man and give him those last moments of amity before there was nothing but dark and quiet. He hadn’t seen any other nurse capable of the things that she had been able to do.

He had only spoken to her a few times when she would brush past his make-shift hospital bed. There had been a short few days that he had been in there, but those three days were enough to make him remember her by. Her smile had been soft and reassuring, and sometimes, Tommy could still picture that smile in his head, shining at him from behind those bright (e/c) eyes. Even in the hardship and brutality of war, she had still found a reason to smile.

Thomas flipped over a stack of papers on his desk, his eyes sitting on a torn-off piece of paper that sat there. It held the nurse's name and address on it, written in his own neat cursive. It hadn’t been hard for Thomas to get hold of it, the army had kept pretty good records of their Doctors and Nurses. He’d thought over and over of sending her a letter and asking for the help that his family so desperately needed. But in the past, he had never been able to gain the courage to do it.

But Tommy didn’t think that Arthur could take many more fights. Taking a deep sigh in, he sat down and picked up his fountain pen, scrawling her name at the top of a fresh piece of parchment.

Dear Miss (Y/L/N),

Thomas faltered, thinking of how exactly he should word his proposal. After all, how many men had she tended to in the field hospitals of France? He had to admit, there wasn’t much of a chance that his name would mean anything of importance to her, and that she could just cast this letter aside and get on with her life.

But he had to take the risk of rejection. Otherwise, Arthur would never get better and John might never know who his own children are. And Tommy didn’t think he could take the loss of his two brothers.

He set his pen to paper again, letting the words stream out of him. All he could do was hope that she would feel some sympathy and decide she would do what she could to help. It was the only way forward that Thomas could see possible.

You pulled open the door of your London apartment, taking refuge in the warm house from the biting wind outside. You shrugged your red coat off and hung it on the wooden coat hanger by the door. Slipping your black boots off, you made your way down the hallway of the apartment you lived in, the sound of the kettle whistling away in the kitchen.

“Hi, Mrs Reid,” you called, poking your head through the kitchen doorway and finding the older woman sitting down at the table with a newspaper in her hands. She was short and stout and wearing a mauve dress, the little wrinkles around her grey eyes softening as they fell on you. She gave you a kind smile as she saw you make your way into the kitchen, taking a seat across from her.

“How was the hospital today?” She asked, folding her newspaper to place her attention on you. The warm expression on her face couldn’t help but make you smile.

“The usual, so very busy.” You relaxed into the back of the chair. It was the first time you had sat down all day and your legs thanked you for the cushioned support. Mrs Reid smiled at you and got up to make a cup of tea.

“Would you like one, dear?” She had already guessed what your answer would be and began to pour you a cup anyway.

“Thank you, Mrs Reid,” You said, taking the cup from her hands. She sat down across from you, her pudgy belly pushing up against the wooden table. Her eyes finally flickered up to yours, as if an important thought had hit her square in the face.

“Oh, a letter came for you, (Y/N). I put it just over there by the fruit bowl.” She raised a hand to point over at the bowl in the corner of the kitchen bench. You saw the corner of a white envelope poking out from under an apple and got up to collect it. “It’s from a Mr Thomas Shelby. Does the name mean anything to you, dear?”

Your heart skipped a beat when her words hit your ears. The name meant more than it should. You had told yourself over and over that a single man in a dirty field hospital shouldn’t still be on your mind two years after meeting him. Yet, there he was somedays, the piercing blue eyes of Thomas Shelby still as vivid in your mind as they had been in the late months of 1916.

Your fingers gripped the white envelope, your eyes rushing over the words that sat there. It really was addressed to you, and on the back was his name written in the same cursive handwriting. It had a return address, in the hopes you would find the time to send a letter back. But what on earth was this letter about anyway? What reason did Thomas Shelby have for writing to a field nurse he had met way back at the Somme?

“Is he a special young man?” Mrs Reid giggled from behind you. You had completely forgotten that she was there and awaiting an answer. You turned back to her with the letter still sitting tightly in your hands.

“Oh,” you stumbled, a red blush creeping up to your cheeks. “No, not like that. Just someone I met in the war.”

“A soldier?” asked Mrs Reid, both confusion and intrigue mixed in the features of her face.

“Yes. I met him in the aftermath of the Somme. I tended to him for a few days.” That was two years ago, yet you could still picture his face so vividly in your head. Something about the man had drawn you to him, often finding yourself coming up with reasons to tend to him for longer than you needed to. And in three short days, he had been out of your life, never hearing another word from him until now.

“Did you two keep in touch? I haven’t noticed any other letters.”

“No,” You mumbled. You could hardly take your eyes off his name on the back of the envelope. “This... is a surprise. Do you mind if I go up to my room and read it?”

Mrs Reid’s face seemed to fall in the way that an old womans would when missing out on a nice piece of gossip and talk. She nodded despite her disappointment and waved for you to go upstairs. “Of course you can, dear. Dinner will be ready in about half an hour.”

You muttered some words of thanks before rushing out of the kitchen and up the short flight of stairs. You couldn’t help but swing the door open and hurriedly close it in a rush to get to your bed. You took a deep breath in before breaking the seal on the envelope and pulling the letter out.

His handwriting was a neat cursive, unlike the many doctor’s hands you had been forced to train yourself to read. You settled your eyes on the letters and began to read the words written in crisp, black ink.

Dear Miss (Y/L/N),

I write this letter to you in the hopes that the last two years have treated you well. To me, however, it hardly seems as if it has been two years since those three small days in that field hospital in France. Though I must admit, you may not even remember who I am. I was just another soldier who came into your care during that long and perilous war. My name is Private Thomas Shelby and I was a tunneller in France. I believe we met just after the Somme in the November of 1916. There were nights when we would talk of things and believe that I once told you of my two brothers, Arthur and John, who were also in the war.

I come from a very close family, Miss (Y/L/N). Sometimes very problematic but still very close. So, that is why I am sending this letter to you, in the hopes that you may be able to help us.

You firsthand saw the changes that the war brought to the men and nurses such as yourself. No soldier came out the same man that they went in. You know what that violence and havoc did to people. And I have had to watch it spoil the mind of my family. Arthur can find himself in terrible fits of violence and I fear that somebody may be killed in his next outburst. John hardly knows his four children and that may only grow deeper over time.

I’m asking for your help because I fear that my brothers may never be themselves again without it. My brother Arthur especially needs it, and very soon. To be frank, we need you, Miss (Y/L/N). I need you to help my brothers. I need you to do what you can in helping them return to whatever amount of their old selves that is possible.

I know that I am asking a lot from you. After all, this job would require you to move all the way to dirty old Birmingham. I know I am only a man you hardly met two years ago, but I know it is your help that my family needs. So if you can find it in your heart to help a man and his withered family, I would be very grateful in a prompt reply. You may leave it to me to find you suitable accommodation here in Birmingham, and a proper wage to go along with your desperately needed assistance.

And if you decide to stay in the comfort of London, I wish you the very best. You were a great comfort to me in that hospital and I do hope you have a very happy and successful life.

Yours faithfully,

Thomas Shelby.

It took three reads for all the words to sink in, your mind struggling to come to terms with the words written on the parchment. Each word sounded just like him in your head, his Birmingham accent coming through with every word that your eyes met. None of it seemed real. Here, a man you hadn’t spoken to in two years, now wanted you to travel to another city to help his family – people you had never met. It seemed like a crazy idea, even preposterous, and you had no reason to want to leave the comfort of a stable job in the largest city in the county.

And yet, you wanted to. You couldn’t deny the little part of yourself that wanted to leave everything behind and fling yourself head-first into the unknown. You wanted to help this ruined family, do your best to sew them back together piece-by-piece the best you could. You felt a need to help these men that you had never met before, all because their brother who you hardly knew had asked you to.

Thomas Shelby. The name brought a whole mix of emotions to your mind and a whole lot of reactions to your body. It could make your hair stand on end, your heart beat a little faster, and bring a light feeling of butterflies to your chest. Yet there was a curiosity at the root of all your feelings about him, a meeting and friendship cut short by the erratic process and events of the war. If you had just had a little longer, you could have gotten to know him a little bit better, and perhaps that feeling of ‘what if’ would have fleeted from your consciousness and memories.

Yet now, in your hands, you held a letter and an opportunity. A chance at last to get some closure on the question that had always hung in the back of your mind. It also provided a way to escape the same boring day-to-day life you currently lived.

You knew you were crazy, there was no denying that. There was no logical reason to pick up the pen and write back any response at all. Yet, your mind kept ticking and those blue eyes would so vividly appear in your mind and you couldn’t help but reach for a new bit of parchment.

Scribbling a response, you couldn’t help but hold your breath. Each action seemed dreamlike, almost as if your mind had made everything up in an attempt to escape your ordinary life. But this letter really was from Thomas Shelby, and he really did need your help. And though it seemed ridiculous, you wanted to move all the way to Birmingham to do it.

And you were going to, as much as your rational side fought against it. You had no idea what awaited you in Birmingham, or exactly what this job would entail. You didn’t even know if this Thomas Shelby would be the same man you remembered.

But you were going anyway, that much you were sure.

I’d really love to know what you thought!!!

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cami-chats · 4 years ago

Text

Wrong Package

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Tony Stark/Johnny Storm

Warnings: Vague mentions of racism

"What the...?" Tony trailed off, frowning at the box in his hands. These were dildos. He did not order dildos, he'd ordered a tea service for Pepper's anniversary of working for him. Well, technically these weren't just dildos, there were two dildos, one cock ring, and a set of butt plugs. He closed the flap of the box to check that this was the right address. It was a hell of a mistake to make, to send him this many sex toys. Ah. Johnny Storm, in the apartment next to his.

This floor only had four apartments, and two of them weren't being lived in right now. Him and Johnny had chatted a little bit, back and forth. It was never anything big, more like pointing at each other in commiseration when they were both awake at four in the morning. And now, for their first real conversation, Tony had to go and explain that he'd seen his sex toys and sorry but did Johnny have the tea service that he'd ordered?

Tony left his apartment without bothering to put on shoes, padding over to Johnny's door and knocking with his free hand. "Is this going to be better or worse if he doesn't answer," Tony muttered. Like Tony himself, Johnny held strange hours. There was no telling if he was actually home right now or not. He shifted his weight to one foot and used the other to scratch at his calf, and that's the moment the door opened. Tony sort of lost his balance, but not so much that he fell.

"What's up?" Johnny said, an amused smile on his face.

"So this is yours," Tony said. He sort of shoved the box at him. "And um, sorry for opening it but I thought it was mine. I'm not really one to talk, but don't you think you went a little overboard? How sexually deprived can someone that looks like you be?"

"I'm going to assume that's a compliment," Johnny said, doing his best to pretend like he wasn't blushing.

"It mostly was. Seriously, you can't be this-" Tony gestured at the box of toys "-hard up for company. I'm right next door and don't have time to go out and meet people, it's not like I'm busy."

"Why Mister Stark, that sounded like a proposal." He tucked the box as much out of the way as he could and leaned against the door frame. Even in embarrassment, he was suave.

"That's the way I heard it, but before we get into that, do you have my package? I kind of have to wrap it tonight so that I can bring it in to work tomorrow."

"Yeah. Thought it was mine," Johnny said with a snort, gesturing for him to come in. Tony followed, closing the door behind him automatically. He tossed the box up on the counter and went over to his couch where he'd put Tony's box. "What is it, anyways?"

"Nothing as exciting as sex toys. But then, maybe that's what she really needs."

"I feel like giving your coworker a sex toy would be considered sexual harassment."

"She's not my coworker, she's my assistant."

"Ah so she could sue you for sexual harassment instead of getting you fired."

"She wouldn't," Tony said. She'd probably quit flat out if Tony ever gave her a sex toy, but she always let him know when he was starting to cross the line so he'd pull back before anything happened. "I might be a pain in the ass to work with, but she gets better pay with this than she would anywhere else." Tony made a face. "That made me sound like a total asshole. More than I meant it to be. I swear I'm not all bad."

"Eh, how bad could you really be? You only mocked me a little bit when you brought my shit over. Everybody else I know wouldn't be able to shut up about it." He handed Tony the proper box.

"I'm not as bad as all your friends," Tony said, nodding. "High praise."

"Hey man, if you'd met my friends, you'd know how good that is. Assholes they might be, but they are of the highest caliber. Super assholes, you might say."

Tony snickered and ripped the tape off just to be sure that this was the right box. No need in trekking back to his apartment if this was also Johnny's. It was only after he was pulling out stuffing that he remembered he could have checked the name on the shipping label. But it was too late for that, and he saw the pattern that he'd ordered through translucent wrappings. "Thanks," he said, then bent down to shove the packing material back in the box rather than leave Johnny to have to pick it up later.

"You're not really like I thought you would be," Johnny said.

"Funnier?"

"More handsome," he said, and he smirked when Tony glared up at him.

"Was there something wrong with all my photos that you didn't know that already?"

Johnny gave a careless shrug.

Tony snorted, then nodded at him. "Thanks for this."

"I wouldn't want you to give the present late."

"And I wouldn't want for you to go around being unsatisfied. Enjoy," Tony said, tossing him a charming smile as he left Johnny's apartment.

Someone knocked on Tony's door. He looked through the peephole before answering it because getting held at gunpoint by one crazy fan was more than enough for a lifetime, thanks. It was Johnny, and he pulled it open, bemused. They hadn't really talked since the package mix-up, other than a couple sentences exchanged in the hallway as one of them was heading in and the other was leaving. But now Johnny was standing at his doorway in club clothes. "You need a cup of sugar, neighbor?" Tony said.

"Something like that," Johnny replied. He was leaning against the wall with one shoulder. There was a casualness to the way he was standing, like he didn't care in the slightest that he was wearing a mesh shirt and pants so tight they looked like a second skin. Tony had been there, but not in a few years. "You ever gone on a date that was so disappointing you feel like you should be compensated for the time you wasted?"

"Ah," Tony said with an understanding nod, "you came over to complain about boys. In that case, come in." He turned and walked further inside, and Johnny followed him, the door clicking shut. "You need something to drink?"

"While I could definitely go for some more vodka, I should probably switch to water. Hangovers aren't as fun as they used to be."

"You don't look drunk."

"Looks can be deceiving," Johnny said, but Tony figured he was just exaggerating. "And alright this wasn't a date date, but we were supposed to go dancing together, get off in the back room, all that good shit and he just... was really fucking racist. Why the hell did he think I'd want to deal with that? Normally, people hide it for a while out of a sense of self-preservation, but I guess this fucker had none of that."

Tony grabbed a glass and poured him some water.

Johnny really didn't look-- or sound-- drunk, but he drank the water like he was. "Like, why couldn't he have been like you? You're cool, and hot as hell. If we were dating? I wouldn't have to run away halfway through a date. I wouldn't have to buy a giant box of sex toys because you wouldn't be a mediocre little shit."

"That's a lot of faith you have in me as your imaginary boyfriend."

"I am making a point."

"Uh-huh," Tony said, amused, "and that point is?"

"That we should have sex. I mean, c'mon. I'm awesome; you're awesome."

"You're right."

"I am?" Johnny asked, perking up.

"You're more drunk than you look."

Johnny stuck his tongue out at Tony. "I'm... tipsy. Definitely not drunk."

Tony took the glass from him, refilled it, and handed it back. "How about you drink the rest of that, go back to your apartment, change, and get some sleep?"

"Or I could drink the rest of this and stay here with you. Just sleeping, I promise. It could be a dangerous trip home if I'm as drunk as you think I am."

"You live down the hall."

"I don't have my keys," Johnny said, not missing a beat.

Tony laughed, holding his hand out for the once-again empty glass. "Fine, you can stay. If I leave you in the middle of the night to work, you don't get to be upset."

"Do people you date get pissed at you for that?"

"All the time. Come on, bed's this way."

Because Tony was a man of principle-- occasionally-- they didn't have sex that night. They did have sex the next morning though.

Johnny ruffled a hand through his hair when they agreed to get up and eat breakfast. "Is now a good time to admit that I really did lose my keys?"

#irontorch #marvel #fanfic #tony stark #johnny storm #my writing

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