#i think she often jokes about punching him or wishing he dies already but really all she wants is to be left alone. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shyficwriter · 4 years ago

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You're Not Broken, Ya Hear Me?

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Yondu x Reader, guest starring Peter and other Ravagers

Summary: Based off a prompt from my friend @giulscomix where Reader is coming up on a rite of passage involving having her first sexual experience and is very nervous because she doesn't wish to partake, because she's just not interested in sex at all. (i.e: Reader is Ace or Demi) She opens up to Yondu about it after he finds her hidden away and crying about it and he helps her with her problem, making her realize she isn't broken. Inspired by and using lines from this scene in Netflix's Sex Education series.

Author’s Note: Fic is SFW. Sex is talked about (obviously), but no sexual scenes occur. This also takes place in an AU where Yondu never broke the code (yet still has Peter, make that make sense lol) and therefore was never exiled from the other Ravager clans. Also, this is a long one, probably should have broken it into chapters, but here we go lol

Word Count: 10,189

The nervousness inside you grew with every passing day. You were almost seventeen- you should be happy about this! Not filled with dread about what turning that particular year would mean. You glanced at the calendar from your bed. Only three days left.

There was a rite of passage that every young man had taken before you, and would take long after you. They all whooted for joy when their time came, but you couldn't find the enthusiasm to do so, although you did your best to fake it. And as the day grew closer, the more you had to fake it.

Maybe it was because you were the only female Ravager on Yondu's team? Or maybe that had nothing to do with it. Maybe you were just... broken? Why couldn't you just be excited about this like everyone else? That thought made your chest ache as you pulled on your boots.

You didn't want to do it, this stupid rite of passage. No, it wasn't exactly like you'd be forced into a room until you "did the deed," However, you knew to refuse would be to cement your reputation as a lame prude who wouldn't know fun if it crawled up her ass. But still, you really didn't want to.

After all, who would want their first time to just be some random fuck for the sole purpose of "Becoming a man/woman" and an "official part of the crew."? Yes, you wanted more than anything to be accepted, like Peter or the others, but you wanted your first time to be with someone you loved and cared for. Now, this isn't to say that you weren't currently a respected member of the crew, but things were just... different. You knew things would change if the others knew you didn't want to go through with it. You'd be less "one of the guys" and more "the chick with the stick up her butt." You didn't want that.

You stood and took a deep breath, readying your facade before leaving your quarters to make your way down to breakfast.

As always, there were many other Ravagers also making their way from the crew quarters down to the mess hall. And, just how it had started happening the closer it got to that dreaded date, you'd encounter someone looking to congratulate you with a clap on the back, saying things like, "Ayy! How many days is it now? Bet ya can't wait, huh?" or more often, high-fives and fist bumps as your crew mates cheered you on for your upcoming "big day."

You took it all in stride, just like every other day. Big smiles, return the high-five, maybe throw in some finger guns, toss in an affirmative and that you "couldn't wait."

But each time you died just a bit inside. How long could you put on this charade? You knew you wouldn't be able to go through with it. What was going to happen then? What would the rest of the crew say when they found out? Normally it wouldn't be such a big deal for so long, when other guys came of age it was usually forgotten by the others after a few days. However, you were going to come of age the very day of the next scheduled shore leave, which was going to happen in just a few days, and for some reason this just bred excitement among your peers and they wouldn't drop it.

You tried to put these thoughts out of your head as you entered the Mess Hall and got your breakfast.

Today you got to eat in relative peace, the attention being taken up by the story Narblik was telling about his last job on an icy planet and how he hadn't been sure he'd make it back when the blizzard hit. It was when you got up to turn in your tray and leave when a few other's started back up again.

Scrote whooped when he saw you stand, crying out a "Get 'em!" at you and someone else shouted back that you were "Gonna be a man!" until someone shouted back at them "She's a girl!" earning an apology and a correction that you were "Gonna be a woman!" that earned some laughter from the others. You knew the laughter wasn't directed at you, they weren't insulting your looks. Some species on the ship just had a hard time getting genders right because the concept of gender just wasn't a thing on their homeworlds.

You passed Horuz and a young green man named Rahi who high-fived you with an "Ayyy!" as was becoming the custom greeting for anyone wanting to congratulate you on it being almost your big day. You returned the greeting. He had just turned 17 three days before along with another young man he often ran around with, and you heard him talking with some others (There were about 5 or 6 of you all either about to turn the big 17 or who recently had since the last shore leave 3 months ago. It was an abnormally large amount of young people coming of age this time around, which you suspected was further reason why some were making such a bigger deal about this upcoming shore leave.) about being excited for shore leave, as that's when they'd be able to 'become men,' aka, would be able to find a whore to screw. Younger crew often had more of the cleaning jobs aboard the Eclector, and unless assigned with an older crew mate, didn't get to go on many away missions where they could try and woo a willing partner, and even then, Yondu liked quick turnarounds on jobs so there wasn't a whole lot off "goof off" time without being reprimanded. There was no real rule about screwing crew mates either, but most avoided it just in case things got weird after. Easier to just bang someone random on shore leave and then get back to work. No muss no fuss.

Horuz teasingly asked if you had any studs picked out yet and you just laughed and said "Ha, one of these lot? You're joking!" as you put your tray away.

You heard Yondu playfully scold the two from a couple tables over, telling them, "Oh, leave the poor girl alone, yer embarrassin' her!" as he laughed. Horuz just shouted back, "Aw now, I didn't even get to tell her about Oblo here's first time!" This was met with Oblo, who was sitting nearby, choking out a "Hey!" and punching Horuz in the arm.

Kraglin laughed now, "I think she's already heard that one! Let's not ruin anyone's meal now."

You shivered. You had heard the story before. It involved a broken member and many stitches. You weren't looking forward to hearing it again. "I'm out!" you say, looking for a way out of this conversation. "Got work to do." With that you turned and started to leave the mess hall.

"That's what I like to hear!" Yondu laughed from behind you. "Some of you lazy gits should start acting like her, don't wanna work unless yer told to." He knew you were just escaping having to hear the story again, but he wasn't going to miss an opportunity to razz up some of his crew.

You finally make your way out of the mess hall and allow your grin to fall. You run a hand over your face, making your way toward the laundry where you had been assigned to repair one of the machines. You were grateful it was both early in the week as well as early in the day as you entered the room. Most of the crew waited until they were completely out of clean clothes to do their washings, which typically resulted in most of the crew crowding the laundry at the end of the week, so you were sure to have at least an hour or three alone to yourself.

You made your way to the back left-hand corner of the room towards the broken machine. It should be an easy fix, the complaint was that it wasn't draining properly, so you figured it was just a clogged drain hose.

Upon opening up the machine you found you were right. it was just a clog. You retrieved a plumbing snake from a nearby supplies trunk and got to work fishing it out. Unfortunately this menial task gave you enough time to dwell on your problems rather than engaging your brain enough to force them into the back of your mind.

You kept thinking the word "broken" over and over. You couldn't get it out of your head how you couldn't bring yourself to just be excited over something everyone else seemed to love.

Your chest tightened. "Broken.. Loser..." Why couldn't you get over it? Why didn't you have these feelings like all the others?

You latched onto the clog and worked to pull it out. "

Broken..." Why was this so hard? "Broken... Stupid... Wrong..." What was wrong with you? "Stupid... Broken..." Why couldn't you just be like everyone else?!

With that last thought you pulled the clog out with an audible "Pop!" that almost made you fly backwards. You looked at it in disgust and dropped it into the nearby trashcan before re-attaching the hose and sliding down to the floor. No one was going to show up to the laundry this early, might as well take advantage of this time to wallow in your own misery.

That's what you told yourself at least. In truth you could feel tears burning your eyes and didn't want anyone to see you cry. Better to let it happen alone than risk another crew mate seeing you and thinking you were weak.

What you didn't know was that Yondu was also well aware of his Ravager crew's laundry habits, and took advantage of the empty communal laundry room at the beginning of the week to wash his own laundry undisturbed. He made his way down after breakfast, actually having forgotten he had assigned you to fix one of the machines, and was therefore quite surprised to walk in on you sat in the corner crying.

"What d'we have here?" he asked, more puzzled than anything. He never once seen you cry, which now that he thought about it was rather surprising. He saw grown men cry at least twice a week, most of them Peter, but still. He tried to cover up any concern with humor. "Did Halfnut leave his dirty drawers in the machine again? Smell's bad enough to make anyone cry."

You had been startled when he first walked in and you were currently trying to quickly straighten yourself up. "Nothing. Sorry Captain." you said, not looking him in the eye as you bent down to pick up the plumbing snake. "Nearly done here." you say, unable to hide a sniffle.

Yondu plopped his laundry basket on one of the long steel tables running up the middle of the room and sighed, turning to walk towards the door.

You look up in surprise as you heard the lock engage.

He looked at you, arms crossed, and said, "Ya really think I'm gonna buy that? Yer not leaving here until ya spill it. Now what's wrong? Somebody bein' mean to ya? Yer feminine-ly cycle -or whatever it's called- hurtin' ya again?"

You blushed and gave him a sharp look before placing the plumbing snake back where you found it.

Yondu rolled his eyes as he moved his basket over to a machine and tossed his clothes in. "Fine, be that way. But I meant what I said. Ya ain't leavin' til we sort it out. Might as well talk or it's gonna get mighty borin' in here." He turned on the machine and hoisted himself up to sit on the table, patting the space beside him.

You begrudgingly approach, not meeting his eyes, and lifted yourself up to sit down on the table.

"Now what's wrong?" he said again.

You fix your gaze on your lap and sigh. "You're just gonna make fun of me." You say sadly.

Yondu smirks. "Maybe. Still wanna hear it though." Upon seeing your face fall further he elbowed you and said, "I'm jus' kiddin'! What's the long face?"

Your eyes remain down and you quietly say, "I... don't wanna do it."

Yondu raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"I don't wanna do it." you repeat.

"Ya dun wanna do... what?" he asks in confusion. He at first assumed maybe you didn't want to do your assigned morning task of fixing the machine, but it seemed like you had already finished it, so he had no idea what you could possibly mean to even begin to be angry for any disobeyed orders. Also, he doubted he found you crying over something as silly as not wanting to fix a washing machine.

"It," you say, "You know, IT." you make a crude gesture with your fingers, forming a circle in one hand with your thumb and index finger and inserting the index finger of your other hand in and out of it, to hopefully get the point across.

Yondu's eyes widen a bit. "Oh!" he says in surprise, before continuing in confusion, "I don't get it? Ya seemed just as excited as could be a bit ago?"

"I've been faking it. Don't want the others to make fun of me."

"Come now! They won't ma-"

He's cut off by you giving him another sharp look. He looks forward again and nods, sighing, "Yeah, yer right. They will."

The two of you were quiet for a couple moments before Yondu awkwardly broke the silence. "Ya mind if I ask why? Like are ya scared or somethin'?" he looks at you with a raised eyebrow, slight concern painting his features.

He remembered his first time. As a battle-slave he didn't exactly see much action; the Kree weren't exactly fond of the idea of their battle-slaves reproducing or having any fun; and by the time Stakar freed him he was in his twenties. It was shortly after when with some other young Ravagers that the subject came up and he admitted he had never done it, only for his mates to excitedly cheer that they were taking him with them on shore leave so he could "become a man." He had been nervous, though he never expressed it out loud, not wanting to appear weak. He knew they meant well, but screwing a random whore just to fit-in and say he had wasn't something he had exactly been looking forward to, however peer pressure had encouraged him to go through with it. It wasn't too bad, he realized, but even knowing that he himself had come to enjoy the act, he always remembered the knot in his stomach leading up to his first time, and hearing you say that you might be scared of doing it made a similar knot form, only higher in his chest and feeling more like... pity? No, that wasn't quite it. Empathy? Yes, that was probably more accurate. Damn sentiment.

"It's not anything like that... it's just... I don't feel anything like that. I'm not even sure I'd know what that feeling is. It's just not there. I'm not scared, or even disgusted, I just feel... nothing."

"I'm not sure I follow..." Yondu said honestly. He supposed you feeling nothing was better than you being scared, but he still didn't quite understand.

"Ok, like, imagine you're surrounded by a feast, with everything you could ever want to eat, but you're not hungry. That's how I feel. I just don't want any of it," you said. Your voice cracked as you continued, "...and it's just so frustrating. Everyone else gets to be normal, while I just don't feel... anything. I don't want to do it-with anyone. When I think about it I feel nothing- it's like I'm broken." You covered your mouth, still not meeting Yondu's gaze as you tried to hold back frustrated tears.

Hearing you say that you thought you were broken tore at Yondu's heart. He wrapped an arm around you tightly and said in a firm voice, "Ya listen here. Yer not broken. I don't wanna hear that again. Look here."

You reluctantly do as he asks.

"Yer not broken," he said again, his face stern. "Sex doesn't make a person whole, so how could ya ever be broken, girl?"

You inhaled sharply as fresh tears pricked at your eyes. You hadn't realized until then that that was exactly what you needed to hear. You quickly wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his chest to hide your tears.

Taken aback at he sudden gesture, Yondu patted you on the back comfortingly and returned the hug. Good thing he locked the door. He doubted that any of his crew would be bothered to wash their clothes this early, but still, it would halt the possibility of new rumors that he was "going soft on the Terrans." He honestly wasn't sure he'd sleep tonight if he had to scold you for crying to save face with his crew right now.

You pulled back almost as soon as you went in, straightening up and quickly wiping your eyes.

"Feel better?"

You nodded.

Yondu sighed, "What to do now..." he said thoughtfully. "Ya know, I never actually liked this whole 'rite of passage' thing, to be fully honest. Crew just gets too wound up. Yer not the first to have reservations 'bout it. Handful of lads have come to me over the years, confiding that they were nervous, but scared of being bullied by the rest of the crew if they didn't go through with it. I suspect there might have been more, but were too scared of lookin' weak to tell their captain. I guess I can understand that."

Surprised by this honesty, you asked, "What did they do?"

"Faked it. They'd go on shore leave, pay a whore to put on a good loud show, yelling and banging on the walls 'n stuff, then lap up the congratulations of the rest of the crew for 'becoming a man.'"

You were further surprised that any of the the crew would have been that open with their captain to admit faking it. "Really?" you ask. "They told you about it after?"

"Who d'ya think told 'em to do it?" Yondu said, huffing a laugh out his nose.

That makes you smile, though you aren't quite sure why. After a moment of thought you say, "If you don't like the whole thing, why don't you stop it?"

Yondu sighed. "I don't think I could if I tried. It's widespread over all 100 Ravager factions. Doubt it do well to tell one faction they couldn't participate. Enough of them look forward to it they'd probably riot." Yondu laughed sardonically. "Not that I haven't thought about trying to steer the culture around it in a different direction. I can tell some of my older crew have the same thoughts, even if they won't admit it."

"How do you know if they never said?" you asked.

"The way they keep passing off horror stories as funny tales to the younger crew. Or did ya miss the story about how Vorker-"

"Nope! Heard it!" you cut him off suddenly. "I remember! I don't need to hear it again, please!" You held up your hands almost as if defending yourself from hearing it again, eyes wide. You most definitely did not need to hear a retelling of the time Vorker caught something very nasty off a girl he met on a job and the details that came with it. There were some rumors that it was how he really lost his eye, but you weren't sure of the truth behind those claims.

Yondu chuckled, patting you on the back. His expression changed when he said. "That's prob'ly what ya should do."

You raised an eyebrow at him.

"Fake it, I mean." he clarified. "Ya should wait til ya want to do it, with someone ya want, if that should ever happen. Not just go through with it to fulfill some dumbass rite of passage." He stared off into the space in front of him. "I can't really see another way to go 'bout it." he admitted. "If I called out for a change among the crew now they'd no doubt see the connection, think I was going soft 'cause yer the only girl here, and then it'd blowback on you. I ain't gonna let that happen." He gave you a look that you understood without him having to explain further. He actually cared about you, in a way similar to how he cared for Peter. He didn't want to see you hurt or bullied over something stupid like this.

You nodded in understanding, returning your gaze to the floor.

"Next shore leave is in a few days. I'll take care of it." Yondu said, his words surprising you.

"What?"

"Consider it a gift." he said, lightly punching you in the arm as he said, "Don't say I never gave ya anythin'."

"I don't understand?" you say, lightly laughing in confusion.

Yondu dramatically rolled his eyes and said, "Guess I gotta spell it out fer ya... I'll arrange for a "fake visit" from a nice whore-bot for ya. It actually costs more for them to fake it, if ya can believe it."

You stared at him, speechless. "I- thank you?" you finally say, blushing. You give him another quick hug.

"Ya, don't get used to it." he replied in his usual gruff fashion when you released him, but you knew better. The old softie.

Just then the machine buzzed, alerting that Yondu's clothes were finished washing. He stood from the table to switch them into a nearby dryer. Once done he turned back to face you. "Well, ya probably got other duties ya need to get to. Better get on 'em."

You smiled, giving him a mock-reluctant, "Yeah," before following him to the door.

You weren't expecting what happened next.

Yondu opened the door and exited, you following out behind. The hallway was no longer empty, and you heard the same young man from earlier, Rahi, call out from a group of two other Ravagers, "Ow Ow! Looks like she finally lost it to the Captain!"

No doubt he thought he was being funny, but he really, really, shouldn't have done that.

Yondu's whistle pierced the air, his arrow quickly finding its way to rest against Rahi's throat. "Ya wanna try that again?" Yondu growled.

Rahi couldn't find any words, just babbled out incoherent nonsense as he nearly shit his pants. The other two Ravagers in the group weren't laughing, just cowering with their friend afraid they'd be next once Yondu finished with him. Other crew mates standing within the hall also stopped to stare in stunned silence.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't run my arrow through ya for speakin' to yer captain like that? Even worse offense for implying I'd screw around with a child." Yondu's eyes were dark and full of rage. Even you were a bit frightened, enough to almost let the child comment slide, and you weren't even the target.

"Dude! He's so old! Ew!" you shout over to the terrified young Ravager, hoping to help the situation by making it clear that nothing like that was ever going to be a thing. And, if you were to be honest, slight payback for Yondu calling you a child.

Yondu whipped his head around to you, and you caught a momentary expression of "You little shit!" before he said, "And don't ya forget it!"

He turned back to Rahi. "I'm waiting." he said, still glowering and crossing his arms expectantly.

Rahi was still busy freaking out. It looked like he was about to cry. He eventually managed to squeak out a, "I'm sorry!" among his pleas for Yondu not to kill him.

Yondu called back his arrow. "That's what I thought. For yer smart mouth you and the other two there are gonna wash the outside of the Eclector, and yer all gonna keep at it until the whole ship's clean." With a smug smile he added. "Guess yer all gonna miss out on shore leave."

This obviously didn't go over well with Rahi's friends, who were now glaring and smacking him at the back of his green head. The next shore leave after the upcoming one wouldn't happen for another 3 months.

"Ya heard me. Git going. And yer still all responsible fer yer other duties too." Yondu added.

The three young men begrudgingly started making their way past when Yondu stopped them again with an, "Ah, Ah, Ah." making them turn back, dreading what else he might have to add.

"I think ya better apologize to this young lady too, for thinking she'd want her first time to be with someone so old." He looked at you pointedly as he said this and you squinted back at him, a nervous giggle escaping your throat as you rubbed the back of your head. Shouldn't have spoke up and called your captain old, now he was going to have to make an example of you as well for mouthing off. "Yer gonna be cleaning out the brig for that one, missy." he said, loud enough for everyone else to hear. Had to make it look good, after all.

Rahi muttered out an apology before scurrying away with his now very irritated mates, but not before Yondu cried out after him with a, "I'm startin' to think some of ya are gettin' a lil' too wound up about this lil' rite of passage among ya young-ins. It'd sure be a shame if you were the reason I decided to put an end to it." He said this with a thick veil of warning. It was a threat, and one you hadn't expected to hear after the conversation you just had with him.

It was clear that no one else in hallway had expected to hear this from their captain either. Looks of shock were exchanged among the Ravagers in the hallway. Rahi and his buddies' eyes all widened in shock when his words finally sunk in and their scurry turned into a sprint to get away before they could make things even worse. That comment Rahi made had apparently pissed the captain off bad.

"What the rest of ya staring at?" Yondu said, startling the rest of the hallway dwelling crew into motion. "I know ya'll got shit to do, get on it!" He looked at you and cocked his head as if to say "Get moving." and you obeyed, making your way toward the brig to complete your extra cleaning duties.

Yondu did his best to hide a smirk as he made his way down to his quarters. He knew rumors would start spreading like wildfire about Rahi nearly causing Yondu to put an end to the rite of passage after that display. It was bound to piss more than a few of the younger crew off. He didn't care much for the lazy shit anyway, so it was better the crew think he was the reason for any upcoming changes rather than you, and if it succeeded in helping him end the whole culture around that particular thing, even better. They really did get too wound up about it.

***

The morning of shore leave came and you were nervous as hell. Yondu had pulled you aside the night before to let you know he had taken care of what he promised, and described the whore-bot he paid to help you fake it so you would know which one to accept. Still, even knowing it was taken care of you couldn't help the growing pit of nervousness in your stomach, though you did your best to hide it.

Since clearly the Eclector couldn't dock on the planet, being about a mile and a half long and all, Ravagers on shore leave would pool together on M-ships for the journey to and back, kind of like a funny buddy-system.

As per usual, you pooled in a ship with Yondu, Kraglin, and Peter along with Tullk, Oblo, and Horuz. Yondu and Kraglin sat up front to pilot, Tullk, Oblo and Horuz filled in the middle, while you and Peter got put in the back, as always.

While the older men laughed and carried on in front of you, you felt Peter nudge you in the arm. You looked over to see him looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "You ok?" he asked, having noticed how you were unusually quiet and fidgety.

"Yeah, I'm great." you lied, "Never better."

Peter rolled his eyes with a knowing smile. "Don't give me that. Are ya nervous?" he asked, obviously knowing full well what everyone expected you'd be doing on this shore leave. "You can tell me. I won't tell anyone."

You gave him a look, saying, "No!" before coming clean with a, "Fine. A little." as you turned your gaze down into your lap to fidget with your watch some more.

"It'll be ok," he assured, "I was a little nervous my first time, too," he admitted. Peter was a few years older than you at 20, and it was hard for you to picture him having been nervous about it, seeing as he now seemed to be trying to work his way through every cute girl in the galaxy.

"Really?" you asked, eyeing him skeptically.

"Yeah. I mean, I was still super excited, but I was a little nervous too. Those horror stories the older guys tell us really get to you."

You giggled with him, remembering what Yondu had told you the other day.

Peter continued, "But anyway, you're gonna be fine. But I did want to give you this." He pulled something out of his jacket pocket and handed it to you. It was a condom.

"Peter!" you whisper-shouted, blushing.

"Hey, if you're gonna do it, I wanna know you're being smart about it. Always use protection. Even with the Love-bots. Can't ever be too careful." He held his hand out more insistently.

You blushed harder and accepted the gift, even though you knew you wouldn't be needing it. "Thanks."

"Come on now, don't get all frowny on me. I'm just looking out for you." Peter teased, aiming a few pokes at your ribs, knowing it always got a good giggle or two out of you.

It worked. Giggles escaped your throat as you twisted in your seat and swatted at his hand, "Quit it!" you squeaked, but his mission was accomplished anyway, you were smiling now.

"There we go!" he teased, grinning at you.

"Shush!" you replied, sticking your tongue out at your friend and laughing when he flicked you in the arm for it. Soon enough the two of you were in a slap battle. You weren't really fighting, and neither of you struck with the intent to hurt (well, not much anyway) it was just how the two of you played sometimes. This carried on until you heard Yondu announce that you all had made it to your destination, and then the nervousness started to creep back into your belly.

Peter and you were the last off the ship. Yondu and the other men headed off, leaving the two of you to your own devices with calls to behave yourselves, but "not too much" *wink, wink, nudge, nudge*

You almost wished he had stuck around longer, but you knew he had already done his part. It would look weird if he stuck around to hold your hand, so to speak. You look to Peter, wanting to stall just a bit longer. "So, ya hungry?"

"Figured you'd want to get right to business," he teased. He knew you were probably stalling, but decided to go along with it anyway rather than abandon you straight away. You had been here before, but he knew this time was different. This time there was a pressure to do something new, and you had already admitted you were nervous about it.

"Uh, can't do it on an empty stomach," you say, forcing a smile.

He ruffled your hair. "Good point. I'm starving." He suggested you two grab some fries at the nearby bar inside the brothel (the whole place was the brothel, let's be honest) and you followed him.

When you both had finished you tried to think of something else to stall, maybe play some pool? However, you never got the chance, for a whore-bot with green hair and looking to be around your age came over to your table to greet you. It was the one Yondu told you to look for, and it asked if it could "show you a good time." You looked nervously at Peter who shot you a thumbs up while trying not to laugh. You glanced back at the bot and tentatively nodded, which Peter took as a sign to high-tail it out of there, leaving you alone. The bot asked for your ID, as you knew it would, and part of you wished you "forgot" it back on the ship, knowing that the bots were programed to refuse service to anyone under the age of 17 and required ID of younger-looking patrons to prove it.

After scanning your ID, the bot took you by the hand and flirtatiously led you across the room to a set of stairs. You began to hear some cheers as you ascended the stairs behind the bot and you were blushing too hard to even attempt to ham it up for their benefit.

Once in the room the bot turned to you. "I understand this isn't meant to be an ordinary engagement. Mr. Udonta left instructions to only perform counterfeit coitus, correct?"

You blushed and nodded, taken aback by the professionalism of the sex-bot, before wondering if you were being rude by assuming otherwise.

"Have you done this before?"

You shook your head, still blushing.

"It's alright. There's plenty of time to figure it out. I've been booked for three hours."

You sputtered. "Excuse me?!" you cried, trying not to be too loud. "Three-? What are we supp-"

The bot gave a laugh and held up its hand. "Do not worry, Miss. I was paid extra to deliver that joke. Mr. Udonta felt it would be very funny. I've only actually been booked for an hour, the standard amount of time."

You let a sigh of relief. You still felt that an hour was going to drag on, but at least it wasn't flarkin' three. "So, what do we do?"

The bot took your hand again and led you to the large bed in the center of the room. "Lie down here." You looked at the bot nervously and it clarified. "The noises will be more realistic if both our weights are on the bed."

You did as the bot instructed and it climbed over you. "I understand this may be awkward, but I'll ask that you trust the process. I will do this," the bot began to rhythmically rock its body back and forth, each rock ending in its hands hitting the headboard and making it knock into the wall behind it. "and then you can start making moaning sounds, you can repeat after me." The bot then started moan, encouraging you with a gesture of its hand when you were too busy blushing to follow the lead. You did your best to mimic the sounds. "We shall continue like this for 10 minutes, and then rest." the bot instructed, ushering you again with more hand gestures when you paused to give it a puzzled look.

After several minutes the bot prompted you to get louder, and then louder again still a few moments after. You realized it was coaching you to simulate you approaching the climax and you got nervous again, not knowing what to do when "that moment" was meant to happen. The bot read your face and told you to relax, just follow it's lead as it thumped against the wall faster and it moaned louder.

You followed its lead until it told you to make a last few loud "Oh's!" and then it began to slow its thumping before coming to a stop.

Whoops and laughter could be heard from the bar outside the door shortly after, and you blushed harder as the bot crawled off of you. "We will now have a few minutes of rest before beginning another simulation."

You sat up. "So we'll just keep repeating like this until the time's up?" you asked.

"Not quite," answered the bot. "We'll change things up a bit, different positions, different sounds, helps to keep it interesting."

"This seems like a lot of work?" you say.

"Yes, well we're paid to put on a show here. Might as well ensure it's convincing," the bot answered with a shrug and a smile.

You winced as you realized you could hear similar noises you had just faked coming from the rooms next to yours and then more whooping and cheering once they, too, stopped. "The walls are kinda thin in here, huh?" you say awkwardly.

The bot smiled sympathetically, "It seems that way, but not really. Only the louder noises make it out. Normal conversation levels are typically left unheard from outside the rooms, so you're clear to speak freely if that was a concern."

"Good to know," you say. You honestly had been a little concerned about that. "So, do we just sit around then?"

"I could give you a massage, if you'd like."

"That... actually sounds really nice. Sure, thank you." You accept the offer, realizing you could use a little stress reliever. "What's your name, by the way?" you ask, feeling a bit guilty for not having asked the bot's name before then and wondering if you should feel silly about that or not.

"You may call me Finn," the bot answered, not seeming fazed in the slightest. "Would you prefer to remove your clothes or leave them on?" The bot- Finn- motioned for you to turn around to give it access to your back.

"Um, clothes on, please?" you say, reaching for your zipper. "But I'll take off my jacket."

"Alright." The bot said, it's tone not caring in the slightest, and you supposed it very likely didn't care one way or another. It went straight to work, starting slow by gathering your hair and pulling it back and up almost as if it were going to tie your hair in a ponytail, but instead of securing an elastic it just repeated this motion a few more times. It was actually very relaxing, and it made you wish you had someone around to play with your hair more often.

With a final gentle tug the bot moved one hand to your forehead while the other worked at the back of your neck, kneading where the nape of your neck met your skull, making you close your eyes and sigh deeply.

To your delight the bot then threaded its fingers through your hair, scratching gently at your scalp. A soft hum escapes you as you stopped yourself from leaning into to touch out of shyness, and you almost let out a whine when the scratching stopped. However, you were soon soothed by the bot beginning to knead into your neck and shoulders.

You had just barely stopped yourself from moaning once when the bot then pressed into another spot that made it impossible to not make a sound, though you tried. Finn speaks up. "Let yourself relax fully," the bot encouraged. "It's alright to allow yourself to be noisy here, may even work to your benefit under the circumstances."

You giggled slightly and blushed. Finn was right, after all. If there were any time to just let go and relax it would technically be here and now. Before you could think much further Finn had dragged the knuckles of each thumb up each side of your spine with just the right amount of pressure to coax a genuine moan out of you, surprising you as it happened. You had never really realized before just how much stress your work as a Ravager took out on your back. You began to wonder if these Love-bots were also designed to be professional masseuses, because Finn seemed to know exactly what they were doing, and it was amazing.

Finn ended the massage a bit later by working back up your back and working their fingertips back into your hair for a last bit scalp massage.

You were almost disappointed when it ended, but when it was over you turned to look at the Love-bot. "Thank you, that was really nice." you say.

"Anytime." Finn smiled. "We still have twenty minutes left, shall we begin another simulation?"

You sighed. "I suppose. He paid for an hour, might as well act like I'm using it." You smiled, not feeling quite as bitter about the situation anymore after the massage. Finn really did have magic fingers. Or state of the art massage programing. Probably the latter.

"Indeed." Finn answered. "After all, there are no refunds."

You let out a slight chuckle at the bot's bluntness. "Alright, so what now?"

The next simulation involved you both standing on the edge of the bed with the wall to hold your balance as you bounced slightly up and down to make the bed squeak. The bot encouraged your to make similar noises as before, but to also throw out some curses, like, "Oh! Fuck!" It even did the same, occasionally calling out a "Yes! Right there! Oh, yes!" that made you raise an eyebrow. You had to fight from giggling the whole time at the situation. It was pretty funny after all. You were both jumping on the bed like children.

When that simulation had finished you sat down on the bed and looked at Finn. "Do you guys... er...-bots?... feel anything?" you asked, referring to the language the bot had used earlier. "Or are you just supposed to say stuff like that as an act?"

"We don't have nerve endings, and therefore we don't really 'feel things' like you might, but there are certain sensors that can be activated during a session with a client and prompt a correct response. However, as this session is only a simulation, I suppose you can call my dialogue 'acting.'"

You half-grinned when the realization of the bot's words hit you. "Are you saying... you're like a 'sexy' arcade game?" you say, trying not to giggle, before becoming suddenly afraid that might have been offensive. "I mean- obviously you're not a toy- I mean- I didn't mean to offend you."

The bot chuckled. "There's no need to worry. There are certain similarities, one could see how you might draw that conclusion."

You blushed again and attempted to change the subject. "So... what are we going to do with the last simulation?"

"You have a couple options. We can simulate against the door, or we can simulate bending over the bed. We could also simulate oral, but the noises you made during the massage more or less already worked in its favor."

You blushed at that. You already knew the door was out of the question, as you had an admittedly irrational fear that it might pop open as you were faking the deed. "We can try over the bed."

"Very well. This one will require less movement of you, you may remain seated there." Finn said as they stood up and moved to stand with their legs between your own. "This one may also be a bit awkward," the bot warned, "as it requires thrusting into the bed on my part. Ready?"

You nodded hesitantly and the bot began a steady rhythm of motion against the bed, making it creak.

The bot was right. This was more awkward, and you were grateful when it was finally over with about five minutes to spare.

You stood from bed and grabbed your jacket. "Thanks. This wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be." you said truthfully. In fact, you really almost thought you'd come back if for no other reason than to get another back rub.

"You still have five more minutes, is there anything else I can do for you today?"

You smiled shyly and said, "Well, I won't argue if you play with my hair again..."

***

You were of course greeted with congratulatory cheers and high-fives when you exited the room along with the other few crew mates who had recently come of age... and had still been allowed to attend shore leave that is. R.I.P Rahi and his friends. (They hadn't died, but you can bet they were probably really regretting pissing Yondu off.)

A few fellow Ravagers bought you some congratulatory drinks and the rest of the night seemed to fly by.

Eventually you caught back up with Peter and shortly after that Yondu announced it was time to head back, which of course received some disappointed grumbling among the crew. However, nobody argued, knowing it might cost them their next shore leave if they got "fussy like toddlers" as Yondu would say.

You and Peter got back to the ship to find Tullk and Oblo already there waiting. Horuz showed up just after and sighed to see Yondu and Kraglin weren't there yet. Yondu and Kraglin were the only ones with keys to Yondu's M-ship, so you all had to stand outside and converse among yourselves as he took his sweet time getting there.

He was probably just paying the Sneeper woman who owned the place and would be there any minute, but 'any minute' still felt like forever when it was cold.

Eventually he and Kraglin did show up and unlock the ship so you could all get in.

Once inside the ship and mostly everyone had strapped in Kraglin called back to you from the co-pilots seat with tipsy laughter in his voice. "So d'ya have fun? Feel any different? Any horror stories to add to the list?" He looked teasingly at Oblo and Oblo flipped him the bird.

Yondu swatted at him, saying, "Aw, leave the girl alone," but there was also laughter in his scolding, so he wasn't that serious.

You answered anyway. "Ya. Had a blast, Kraglin. Smooth sailing. Just a little sleepy."

This made the other men chuckle, though you weren't entirely sure why, although you could guess.

Yondu piped up. "If she falls asleep Quill's gotta carry her in."

Peter scoffed with a laugh. "Why do I gotta?" he said, before turning to you to add. "You better not fall asleep then."

"Well if you fall asleep I ain't carrying you in! Probably break my back if I tried. You can just stay sleeping in the ship." you laughed back.

"Why you little!" Peter cried out with a grin, aiming to poke you in the ribs, but you dodged him, returning a swat of your own to his arm. And, like on the way over, the two of you were engrossed in another slap battle. The others just let you two carry on, busy with their own conversations and laughing amongst themselves.

Eventually you and Peter did tire yourselves out and Yondu chuckled to the other men when after docking the ship he noticed you had both fallen asleep, curled up in your respective seats. Oblo snapped a picture, cooing, "Aw look! Ain't that precious!"

"Send that to me." Yondu said with a grin. "Might blow it up, hang it in the Mess Hall." This earned a laugh from the others. He looked at Tullk with a grin before exiting the ship. "Ya better wake 'em. I'm sure as hell not carryin' them to bed."

***

The next morning Yondu was alone in his quarters when he decided to call up Stakar.

After a few rings Stakar's face comes up on the screen, and the two men give a Ravager salute in greeting before Stakar asks what's brought Yondu to call him.

"I wanna talk to ya about that whole coming of age and having sex thing."

Stakar raised an eyebrow. "What about it?"

"Younger crew just get too wound up about it. It ain't healthy." Yondu responded.

Stakar still looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"Ya know what I mean." Yondu said firmly. "They get all wound up like it's the most important thing in the world, and it's because everyone makes a big old deal outta something silly like that."

"It hasn't been a problem before?" Stakar said thoughtfully. "What's changed? It's that Terran girl isn't it? Of course. She just came of age." Stakar shook his head. "I don't care what you say, you're soft on her and Peter. You can't get attached and let them influence your judgement like that, Yondu."

"No, it ain't like that," Yondu said, trying to cover his ass and continuing before Stakar can interrupt him. "It's got nothin' to do with them. I just can't have my crew bullying their mates just cause they don't wanna fuck yet or lettin' the whole thing get to their heads makin' them all disrespectful-like. Almost had to keel-haul a few boys who suddenly thought they were big enough to start disrespecting their captain over it."

Stakar looked at him suspiciously. "No, we can't have that... What do you propose then? It's not like we can stop them. You tell young people they can't do something, they're only gonna do it more."

"I know that- Look. I'm not sayin' we do away with it entirely. I could care less what they do on shore-leave. But we can maybe make them realize it's not such a big damn deal. Ya know, slow-like. Maybe they'd stop getting so wound-up about it." Yondu said, quickly adding, "If they're less focused on that maybe they'd work harder."

Stakar thought for a bit. Yondu was right, he thought. He had noticed the younger crowd getting a bit wound up about it, and sometimes they did let the excitement get ahead of their duties... "Maybe you're right," he conceded. "If it's affecting their jobs maybe we should try and change the culture around it... I'll talk with some of the other captains and get back to you."

Yondu grinned and nodded. "All I ask."

***

You felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. It was the day after shore-leave and no one had brought up how you "Became a woman" at all. It was as if the previous week's excitement had been completely forgotten, and you couldn't be happier.

You did notice in the following days that Rahi seemed to be getting a bit of flack. He hadn't been particularly well liked before, always trying to push his duties off on other crew mates or blaming others for things he had broken, but now he was practically a pariah. Even his buddies didn't seem to want much to do with him, though that could be because they were still mad that they had been dragged under into his punishment despite not having done anything to deserve it other than be with him at the time.

You almost felt bad for him until Peter explained that along with the 'written' rule that Ravagers don't deal in kids; harming or forming inappropriate relationships with children and teens (i.e: having sexual relations with younger crew) was also a HUGE no-no. Even worse if the offender is someone high-ranking. Rahi, though he just thought he was being funny, had more or less unwittingly falsely accused Yondu of breaking that part of the code with the joke he made, hence why Yondu had been so offended and pissed. Peter was honestly surprised Yondu had let him live after that.

He also added that no one wants to be around someone who thinks it's funny to make those particular jokes. Real accusations of that nature are taken very seriously among Ravager Clans, so if someone is found to just be flippantly saying crap like that, the general feel is that it makes it harder for real victims to be heard, so the crew will tend to shun the offender to make it clear that behavior isn't acceptable. And well, if the offender didn't learn their lesson pretty quick and get back into the good graces of their captain and crew, they'd quickly find themselves to be cannon fodder.

Even Ravagers know there's a line between raunchy and unacceptable.

There may have also been the matter that when Yondu had said "I'm startin' to think some of ya are gettin' a lil' too wound up about this lil' rite of passage among ya young-ins. It'd sure be a shame if you were the reason I decided to put an end to it." much of the crew, after the rumor had gotten twisted up a bit via game of telephone, had taken it to mean that Rahi had almost gotten shore-leave taken away from everyone- forever. And well, that just didn't sit right with a lot of folks. It was a final nail in the coffin, if you will.

However, what you didn't know was about Yondu's conversation with Stakar.

Stakar did go talk to the other captains, and more than a few did finally admit similar instances among their younger ranks after having heard through the grapevines about a giant stink a lad called Rahi had caused on Udonta's ship. They admitted to instances of bullying, pressure, and disrespect occurring and directly related to the particular rite of passage and collectively agreed with Yondu that a change surrounding the culture could be beneficial, much to Yondu's surprise, and also his relief.

He never did tell you about his conversation with Stakar, though he was sure you may start to suspect if everything went well and things started changing regarding that particular aspect of life. As long as no one else had to feel like he saw you feeling that night in the laundry, he'd be happy.

You had come to his quarters the day after the visit to Contraxia, knocking almost as soon as he had hung up with Stakar. You had wanted to thank him him for helping you, both with the advice and with the Love-Bot. You told him how you felt so much better after having that talk with him, and how you no longer felt broken.

He'd never say, because screw sentiment, but it warmed his heart to know he helped you realize there was nothing wrong with you, that you had never been damaged. You two parted with a hug and he let you know to not be afraid if you needed to come to him about stuff like that in the future, just not to make a habit of telling the others lest they accuse him of going soft.

You were his little girl, something else he never intended to say out loud, because again, screw sentiment. He felt a responsibility for your well-being, even if you could be a little shit like Peter sometimes.

Ah, fuck sentiment. He knew you two were his kids, and he was damn proud.

***

About a week after shore leave you and Peter happened across Yondu outside the Mess Hall doors as you were heading in for supper.

"Hey, look! It's Terran One and Terran two!" Yondu said, oddly loudly.

"Um, hi?" You gave him an odd look. "What's up?"

"Now why would ya think somethin's up? Can't a captain greet his crew outside the Mess Hall before dinner?"

'Something's definitely up.' you thought, sharing a glance with Peter who was clearly thinking the same thing. "Are we in trouble? Did we do something?" Peter chuckled nervously. He didn't know about you, but he had maybe definitely rigged a supply closet in the control room with some firecrackers, and he wasn't sure if some poor soul (probably Kraglin) had already fell victim to it, meaning he was about to be in hot water.

You were also grinning nervously. You didn't know about Peter's firecrackers, but you had also maybe definitely hidden some poppers under the cushion of Yondu's desk chair that morning when he was busy on the other side of the ship, but you weren't going to just turn yourself in without more information, now were you?

"I dunno, you tell me." Yondu said, smirking. "Are you in trouble? Ya'll got a guilty conscience?"

You and Peter shared a nervous glance. You both knew you both were most definitely guilty of something, however you two had a code. Never turn yourself in, and never turn your buddy in. You looked back at Yondu, suppressing a nervous giggle. "No? I don't think so?"

Kraglin then came outside the Mess Hall doors to stand with Yondu. Kraglin had a big shit eating grin on his face, almost as if he were trying not to laugh when he saw you and Peter there.

Yondu threw him a glance which Kraglin returned with a nod. You noticed this and you exchanged another look with Peter. Something was definitely up. This felt like a trap.

"Well, what're ya waiting for? Get in there and grab some supper!" Yondu ordered, grinning strangely. He opened the door for you- oh shit something was absolutely up here.

You and Peter eyed him suspiciously but obeyed, entering the Mess hall without a word.

Once inside you noticed the rest of the crew inside were all oddly quiet, all staring at the two of you with grins and some suppressing giggles behind their hands. You heard the doors shut behind you and turned to see Yondu and Kraglin standing in front of them, both donning the biggest shit eating grins of all time.

"Cap'n has a surprise for you guys, d'ya- do ya like it?" Kraglin asked, trying to suppress his own giggles.

You heard Peter exclaim a, "Oh hell no!" and you turned to see what had caught his attention, noticing the crew had finally broke out into loud raucous laughter around you.

Hanging high on the wall about 10 feet to the right of the Mess Hall entrance doors was a humongous blown up photo of you and Peter. It was the photo you guys didn't know Oblo had snapped when you returned from Contraxia. It showed the two of you each curled up asleep in your respective seats of Yondu's M-ship. Peter was sucking his thumb. You were cuddling one of Yondu's softer dash toys.

You both paled as you stared up at the giant poster hung high on the wall. Hung conveniently high enough that neither of you would be able to reach it to rip it down, although Peter made a few good attempts.

Your eyes narrowed at your captain as he approached you, his laughter matching that of the crew. He pulled you towards him and ruffled your hair as he asked. "What's the matter? Ya don't like yer surprise?"

You glared up at him as Peter was now climbing up on a chair in a vain attempt to reach and pull the photo down. "This so means war, blue man!"

"Don't pick fights ya can't win, pipsqueak." Yondu laughed. "Consider this payback for those poppers in my chair, and ya can tell Peter this is for those firecrackers in the supply closet."

You sighed and punched him in the arm, but he only laughed and pulled you in close to ruffle your hair again, "Oh lighten up! Ya don't really expect me to just let my kids have all the fun, huh?"

You jerked your head towards him with a surprised expression, and it seemed it was only then he realized what he had said. Grateful that no one else would have heard it over his noisy crew he attempted to backtrack. "Uh, don't read too much into it." he said, clapping you on the back and announcing to Kraglin that he was going to grab some food. Kraglin, who was busy laughing at Peter, who had seemingly given up his attempts to rip down the photo in favor of walking dejectedly back over to you, nodded and joined his Captain in obtaining some supper.

Peter and you turned to face the photo again, the laughter from the crew still not having died down. Peter spoke first. "This means war, right?"

"Definitely. I had already set up a dye pack in Yondu's shower earlier. He'll be a weird shade of purple by morning," you affirmed with a grin.

"Nice. We gotta get one on Kraglin too."

"Absolutely," you reply. "After supper?"

"Yeah. After supper." Peter agreed.

The two of you made your way to get your supper, ignoring the laughs and teases of the other Ravagers along the way and discussing further options of getting Yondu and Kraglin back for this.

He may be like a father to you two, but that didn't mean he'd get off easy.

#gotg #gotg fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy #yondu x reader #long fanfiction #yondu udonta #x reader #reader is a ravager #papa!yondu #daddy!yondu #peter quill #peter quill x reader #yondu udonta x reader #kraglin #ace #demi #ace!reader #demi!reader #sfw

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haruno-sakura-san · 3 years ago

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So I'm playing around with this idea for a Fic I'm writing called Altered. I'm just trying to get some thoughts down about it. Let me know what you think.

Shikamaru

Tsunade died quickly and painlessly one morning before her retirement. Shikamaru was sure it was the punch line of some cosmic joke at her expense. He wouldn’t be surprised in 20 years he was the butt of a similar one. Both of them hated the job and both worked tirelessly forward. So he supposed it just couldn’t be helped.

The funeral was huge. Kage and shinobi from all villages came to pay respects to the woman who saved the lives of thousands in the war and who’s leadership had come to bring together all the shinobi nations in peace. Each Kage made a speech that was some variant of this narrative, standing in a noble line to the side of her portrait, large enough for the entire gathering to see. On the end, flanking Kakashi, was the only non-hokage, Sakura.

Her frame was small. Smaller than most of the Kage lined beside her, but it was sturdy and unshakable to Shikamaru’s surprise. She wasn’t crying. So often he’d seen Sakura break down, over teammates and Sasuke and strangers, but now of all times her face was dry. She looked strong, respectful, at peace. A mirror of Tsunade’s portrait on display. The perfect apprentice.

“Wasn’t she the one that found her?” Temari asked. She’d followed his gaze to Sakura’s form.

“Ah,” he affirmed, not sure what else to say.

“Must have sucked,” Temari said, and for some reason this made Shikamaru a little irritated.

Sucked. Sucked? Shikamaru knew first hand how much it sucked seeing your teacher die in front of you and having no way to stop. Sucked didn’t even begin to describe it.

Sakura had worn that face when she’d marched into the Hokage’s office, like it was any other day. She didn’t look dazed or broken, but she wasn’t smiling her normal cheery smile.

This was the only clue she’d give as she squared off in front of Kakashi’s desk and said plain as day, “Tsunade passed away this morning. We should begin making arrangements before word gets too far.”

Both him and Kakashi froze.

“Mah, Sakura. That’s not a very funny joke so early in the morning,” Kakashi recovered more quickly than he had.

“It's not early. Its noon. It's not a joke.” She didn’t snap and this shook Shikamaru more than if she’d stormed across the room and slapped her Hokage across the face. Normally she’d snap. But this was just a tired statement of fact after fact.

“How did it happen?” Shikamaru asked, still in shock. He remembered Tsunade barreling in just a few days ago, informing, not requesting, her leave from the hospital for retirement. Kami knows I’ve earned it.

Sakura’s clear gaze turned on him and he felt the weight of his body acutely. Maybe it was that lack of smile.

“A heart attack. It was quick. She was gone before she could feel any pain.”

Kakashi swiveled in his chair, peering out the window at the cloudless blue sky. Not appropriate weather for news like this.

“I see.” Is all he said. Processing, Shikamaru guessed. “Didn’t even get a chance to retire.”

Shikamaru stifled the dry, ironic laugh itching at his throat. Or maybe he just needed a cigarette.

“No,” was all Sakura said.

“Who else knows?” Kakashi now all business.

“Just me and a nurse I trust to stay quiet until an announcement is made.”

Shikamaru felt the floor warp a little. “You were there when it happened?”

This time she did smile. Yeah, isn’t that just the darnedest thing? “Yes. I did everything I could to save her, but there was nothing I could do.”

He knew she wishes there would have been.

“Where is the body” Kakashi asked. Shikamaru winced. The body. Such a careless way to say it.

“It's already been taken care of.” Sakura lowered her eyes to a knot in the wood flooring.

Kakashi let out a weary breath and Shikamaru could tell he wished it wouldn’t have been Sakura taking care of it.

“Sakura,” Kakashi still looked out the window, “We can take this from here. Take some time off and see one of the counselors or be with your friends.”

“With all due respect, there much to be done at the hospital with Tsunade’s departure. I’ll continue working, Hokage-sama.” She bowed stiffly, the Tsunade’s departure hanging in the air. Departure, like she’d just left for retirement and that was that. Shikamaru wondered if that’s what Sakura was thinking. Just that she’d left like planned and she was supposed to carry on. The good little apprentice.

A long moment passed. A battle of wills.

“No,” Kakashi finally said. “You need time to grieve.”

Finally, some of the fire comes out in Sakura. “So do you, but you’re not taking time off, are you? We both have jobs to do here – important jobs - and I’m not going to sit on my ass eating icecream and crying into teddy bears while her hospital goes to shit -”

“Sakura this is not negotiable.”

“I’m fine.” And she does sound fine. “I. Am. Fine.”

They exchange a look loaded with history Shikamaru isn’t privy to. He watches for a moment, then two, wishing he could shrink away and become shadow.

“Thank you,” Sakura says tightly and walks out of the room. If Kakashi gave any sign he assented, Shikamaru didn’t catch it.

“Was it really a heart attack?” Temari says in the present. Shikamaru blinks twice, extracting himself from the memory.

“Ah,” he grunts in confirmation, wishing she’d drop it.

“Seems like it’d take more than that to take her out.” Temari speculates. Again, he’s irritated by her casual tone over the matter. “I mean, she was literally blown apart in the war and she still survived that. The woman was tough as they come. Seems like a little heart attack –,”

“Drop it.” Shikamaru barks, surprising himself. He’s not one to ever take a tone with her, not one to lose control over anything. But the past week has done something to him though, dredged up old memories of Asuma lying still and cold and it frays him at the edges.

Temari opens her mouth to snap back, ever strong-headed, but he interrupts, eyes turning toward Sakura’s steady form, his mind flashing between now and then.

“If Sakura says that’s what happened. That’s what happened.” It's too much trouble to think further than that. So he believes it. He has to. “She did everything she could, so just drop it.”

For now, she does. But he’d be an idiot to think the discussion was completely over.

Sakura

Tsunade was dead. Her teacher was dead. The teacher that believed in her and saw in her what Kakashi and all the rest hadn’t was dead. And she’d just walked into Kakashi’s office and lied through her teeth about every single part of it.

Tsunade didn’t die quickly and painlessly. It took several minutes for her spirit to finally untangle from her body and move on. Sakura watched it all happen.

It did happen suddenly. One breath she’d been discussing retirement plans then next – well. Sakura’s stomach turned. She hurried into the ladies' room and hurled her coffee up.

It’d been horrible. Nothing like Sakura had ever seen. And when it was over, nothing remained of the teacher she knew and loved. The image of Tsunade old, shriveled, blackened – Sakura dry heaves into the toilet again - wrong. So, so wrong and it wasn’t supposed to have happened like that. Sakura presses her forehead into the cool rim of the toilet, not caring how dirty might be. She deserved it. Tsunade didn’t.

Knowing how vain her teacher had been, she’d taken care of it. All of it. So that her teacher would have the dignified death she deserved. She had destroyed any evidence of the truth all on her own. And Sakura would carry it, her secret, until her dying breath.

#potentially a fic #sakura #shikamaru #shikasaku #eventually #but mostly mystery

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writtenvisionary · 3 years ago

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Rooftop Riddles

Read on Ao3

WC: 5.1k

Summary: One riddle changes everything. Dramatic identity reveal, oneshot, ladynoir/adrienette | trigger warning - depression, self-harm, abuse/neglect

The breeze was nothing short of refreshing as she sat next to her partner in crime. He was silent for the time being, but she knew it was only a matter of time before he would start saying something stupid. So she took in her surroundings while there was still silence between them.

It was dark; street lights illuminated all of Paris. Shadows bounced from wall to wall as civilians took their nightly walks, either from work or just around the block to get some fresh, cool air before they go to sleep. There are also those pathetically trudging toward their place of employment for their overnight shifts, and Marinette felt for them. Being Ladybug was all too taxing on her, and she often felt like she worked 24 hours, but in reality it was just all of the extra exercise that made her so exhausted every day.

Looking over at Chat Noir, she takes in his appearance. His hunched back, drooped cat ears, slow breaths. He’s looking straight ahead, seemingly lost in his own train of thought. Her eyebrows furrow.

She opens her mouth to speak, but her partner beats her to it.

“Wanna hear a riddle?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Okay. What do you call a sad watermelon?”

Ladybug had to think. Biting her bottom lip, she pondered an answer.

“Um... I don’t know, what?”

“Melon-choly.”

A smile lit up her face.

“Oh!” She laughed.

“Here’s another. It’s kinda long, so get ready.”

She nods, shifting in her seat.

“A single father took care of his baby, and he was rich so the baby had a lot. Food, clothes, excessive stuff. What didn’tthe baby have?”

Marinette frowns, some weird feeling rushing through her veins. She sits up, narrowing her eyes at the boy clad in a black leather suit. He sits with his legs pulled up to his chest, looking straight forward. Not even a tiny upward lift of his lips, making her worry.

Something about the way he delivered that riddle was… ominous. It didn’t seem like he was disconnected from the story he was telling. It’s almost like he could relate.

She gulps.

“A mother?”

He nods, then hangs his head for a moment before pulling it back up and flashing an obviously fake smile in her direction.

“Bingo,” he says dryly.

Her frown deepens.

Why did that riddle sound like something personal? Is he rich?

That sounds like someone she knows. And the riddle boy’s mother was gone… that sounded like him too.

No, there’s no correlation. It’s just a random riddle.

“Alright, last one.”

“Okay,” she nods.

“I am twisted from what I was, to hold the weight of others. Yet tie a knot, and my use to this world is gone.”

Her heart plummets down into her stomach. She loses her breath and has to look back at the city of Paris to think.

If it was possible, this riddle sounded scarier than the last. Chat Noir must really be in a bad mood because normally he puns, not riddles, and the jokes he tells are stupid and funny. These are just... depressing. Her concern is growing by the minute.

She needs to give an answer.

Twisted… Hold the weight of others… Tie a knot… My use to this world is gone.

Tie a knot? What?

“I—“ she licks her lips and shakes her head.

“I’m at a loss. I don’t know.”

Chat hesitates before whispering the answer.

“A noose.”

Her eyes widen and she suddenly feels like she’s been punched in the face.

“Just kidding, it’s a paperclip.”

But he didn’t seem like he was kidding. She was officially scared.

“Chat, you’re worrying me.”

“What do you call a dead pine tree?”

“Chat.”

“A never-green.”

“Minou, I —“

“What do you call a broken pencil?”

“Chat Noir.”

“Pointless,” he laughs darkly.

“Chat Noir!”

Finally, he looks over at her and her mouth falls agape.

His complexion is so pale, lips are pressed into a thin line, and his eyes are glistening.

“What?” He asks, voice breaking on the word.

Carefully, she places her hands on either side of his face. She stares directly into his eyes.

“You’re worrying me,” her voice shakes. “Please tell me whatever’s making you upset so I can help.”

“… I-I’m not upset.”

“Kitty. You just told me a riddle about a noose.”

He shakes his head, scrunching his eyebrows.

“It was a paperclip, milady. Can’t you appreciate a good joke?”

“Chat, all of the jokes you’ve cracked tonight have been nothing short of depressing.”

Frowning, he pulls away from her hold, avoiding her gaze.

“So? New to dark humor?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “But that’s not normally the humor you have, Chaton.”

He’s quiet for a couple seconds before responding.

“Just wanted to try something different—“

“I’m not going to take these bullshit excuses, you know?”

Chat Noir raises an eyebrow, not used to such language coming from his lady.

“They’re not excuses—“

“YES they are!”

She softens her voice.

“Please,” she begs. “Talk to me.”

It’s almost as if she didn’t say anything, how he continues to stare into the distance, silently appreciating the view of Paris. She follows suit, not knowing what else to say. Instead, she decides to wait it out. Hopefully he’ll talk. Eventually.

And he does.

“My mother died about a year ago.”

Her jaw slackens, but she stays silent.

“Father has always been very… strict. But lately he’s been putting a lot on me. Stuff that… stuff that a normal, average sixteen-year old shouldn’t have to put up with,” he sighs.

He calls his dad father? The only other person who does that is…

Alarms go off in her head.

“He makes me take so many lessons beyond school. Chinese, fencing, piano— and he didn’t even let me go to public school until four months ago. I was homeschooled by my father’s assistant, I mean she’s a good family friend—“

Wait.

“And the only friend that was ever allowed over was the mayor’s daughter, and she’s snobby and hangs off of me like I’m her fucking property when I’m NOT and—“

Chloé?

“Father doesn’t even have dinner with me. I mean, maybe once every two months if I get lucky—“

Her eyes widen. He couldn’t be…

“But most of the time it’s just me and the family friend, and she’s not even eating! She’s looking over my schedule to make sure it’s as jam-packed as it was the day before. I swear I never get a break.

“Sometimes it feels like Father is always disappointed in me, no matter what I do. I feel like I’m trapped in his bubble, like I can’t get out. My house is like a fortress. Or a prison. Being Chat Noir is my escape but I just… It’s getting to be too much, milady.

“I don’t know how much more I can take.”

She feels like she lost her voice. Her brain is on overdrive.

If all the pieces are adding up, my akuma-fighting partner is also my crush who is also a world famous model and—

Focus, Marinette.

“It sounds stressful, A— uh, Chat.”

He intakes a sharp breath.

“Did I say too much?”

She bites her lip. Yes.

“No?”

It comes out as a question. He must suspect that she’s lying.

He tilts his head in admission, then looks down.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Um… I’ll always be here for you. You know that, right?”

Slowly, Chat Noir—Adrien—meets her gaze once again.

His response was hesitant. “Yeah.”

She has to sigh; she doesn’t seem to be getting through to him.

“Minou, you are loved and wanted and I want to make sure you know that.”

Chat Noir chews his bottom lip.

“Thanks, bugaboo.”

They fall into a comfortable silence, just peering down at the streets of their city. She wants to ask him more questions because it seems like there’s more he’s not telling her, but decides against it. She doesn’t expect him to tell her everything, especially since opening up that much was already hard enough for him (and she really shouldn’t have been able to figure out his identity because danger! but she supposes she’ll forgive him since he’s literally the love of her life and he needs someone to be there for him either way).

A small movement in the corner of her eye catches her attention. She looks in Chat’s direction, noting how he’s holding a hand over his left wrist. Her frown deepens. It’s not like she wants him to notice that she’s staring, but she can’t look away. Warily, she watches his face twist in pain.

“Does your wrist hurt, kitty?”

He startles, but shakes his head.

“It’s good.”

“But,” she challenges, “you’re holding it. Looks like it hurts…”

Chat Noir clenches his teeth, turning to look at his lady with fire in his eyes.

“I said it’s good, Ladybug. Leave it.”

Marinette flinches at the use of her superhero name instead of one of his usual nicknames for her. His tone is uncharacteristically harsh, as well.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

The last thing she wants to do is upset him more.

She clears her throat, at a loss for words. The atmosphere had suddenly turned tense and she wasn’t fully enjoying his presence anymore. Of course, he wasn’t dangerous or anything, but she really didn’t want him to snap at her again.

Ladybug likes a happy kitten, not a bitter one.

She wishes she knew what to do.

“Well,” Chat speaks. “I gotta head out; get back home before my father’s assistant notices I’m gone and I get taken out of school.”

He stands, getting ready to extend his baton and hop from building to building for as long as possible in order to procrastinate his return to the large, lonely mansion where he resides.

Ladybug hops up so quickly that her head spins, but she ignores it in hope of saying one last thing before he leaves.

“Hey, Chaton?”

Said cat boy looks in her direction, letting her know that he’s listening.

Instead of speaking, she just leans forward to press her lips onto his cheek. When she pulls away, she offers a smile.

“You and me against the world.”

He plasters a (fake) grin onto his face, “Thanks, bugaboo. See you later.”

Then he bolts away, leaving his Lady alone on a rooftop.

Life had gone on as normal for both Adrien and Marinette. For the next two weeks, the superhero pair had not spoken about Chat’s home life or his internal struggles. She wanted to give him some space and he simply wanted to forget that he even showed so much vulnerability around her.

Granted, Adrien didn’t care that she knew. In fact, he was pretty happy that she had been willing to listen. Usually she never allowed rants from the either of them because she knew that it was easy to slip up and say something that could lead an unwarranted identity reveal.

Marinette wanted to talk to him, come to a mutual agreement, and then officially tell each other who they were. She knew it was unfair that she knew and wasn’t telling him, but in all honesty, she wasn’t even sure her suspicions are right.

(She’s ninety-nine percent sure).

Her eyes had been on Adrien for those two weeks, subtly checking to make sure that there weren’t bags under his eyes (there were), that his smiles weren’t forced (they were), and that he was eating enough (she had no way of knowing, but he hadn’t asked for a macaron in a few days and she was starting to get worried).

He was doing somewhat alright, from what she could tell. She didn’t expect to see anything different today.

Boy, was she wrong.

She had been passing out papers to the class regarding their next class trip, explaining that they needed a parent signature, as well as forty-two Euros by next Monday, in order to attend. When she reached Adrien, she paused.

He was rubbing at his left wrist — the same wrist that Chat had been holding in pain that night two weeks ago. His face was contorted painfully; familiarly. This brought about her worries.

Subtly, she placed down the papers in front of him, to which he looked up at her and sent an oh so fake smile in thanks.

As she walked away, Marinette just barely caught a glimpse of some red, scratch-like marks on his skin as he picked the paper up.

Her heart dropped.

She hadn’t realized that him holding his wrist earlier was a sign of self-harm. Apparently he was worse off than she thought. Now, it’s a whole different ball game — one that can’t have secret identities interfering with. She has no choice; she needs to stay in contact with him.

He needs to be okay.

Marinette tried to wait until patrol that night. Really, she did. But she couldn’t resist zipping over to his house and knocking at his window right after his fencing practice had ended.

He jumps at the sound, quickly ushering Plagg to hide in his shirt, before turning around to look at the super-heroine.

“Hi, Ladybug!” He greets with a smile. “Anything I can help you with today?”

She takes that as an invitation to leap into his room, then she allows her yoyo to snap close as she lands in front of him.

Her hands stay in fists as she brings them up to rest at either side of her waist. She grins brightly in his direction.

“Hi, kitty!”

It’s almost comical how his smile drops.

“What?”

In lieu of a response, she drops her arms to rest at her side. Then she takes a few steps forward so that she’s standing much closer to him.

“Your father is strict… he has an assistant… he makes you take piano, fencing, Chinese lessons…”

His eyes widen slowly as she speaks, his heart beating erratically.

Ladybug scoffs, “Honestly, Adrien? You couldn’t have been more obvious.”

He gulps in horror.

Then he narrows his eyes.

“How did you know that Adrien Agreste takes Chinese lessons? I’ve never once mentioned that in an interview…”

She stiffens.

“Uh. B-because you told me before.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“As Chat,” she supplies.

The model scoffs, “I’m not Chat Noir.”

Ladybug shrugs, beginning to stroll around his room.

“Okay. So why did I see you rub your wrist in class today, hm?”

Now it’s Adrien’s turn to stiffen.

“Y-y-you’re in my class? What?” He asks incredulously.

“Yes. I’m the class president.”

She says it so confidently that it scares her. He’s sure to figure it out by now. She can’t look at him as he comes to the realization.

“But my class president is Marinette— wait.”

He huffs, smirking.

“Are you Marinette?”

Finally she casts her gaze in his direction.

“In the flesh.”

She watches as his eyes light up. He approaches her with a smile.

“Oh my god. Wait, then I’m totally okay admitting I’m Chat Noir.”

Her eyebrow raises, “Oh yeah? And if I was, say, Chloé… would you have admitted it?”

He immediately shakes his head.

Ladybug doesn’t even try to stifle her laugh.

“Spots off.”

Adrien watches in amazement as a magical, pink light engulfs her entire body, leaving Marinette Dupain-Cheng standing in his bedroom.

When she’s out of the Miraculous, the first thing Tikki does is call Plagg.

“Plagg, get out here! I need to talk to you!”

Plagg phases through Adrien’s over-shirt and glares at his counterpart.

“Well hello to you too, Sugarcube!”

The other side of the room is then occupied by two magical creatures, allowing for Adrien and Marinette to have some time alone.

An awkward tension fills the air for the first couple moments, as the two recently-outed superheroes stare at each other, letting everything sink in.

Adrien is the first to speak.

“Wow, uh… wow.”

Marinette only nods, unable to comment on his reaction as she is overflowing with concern.

“Adrien, we have to talk.”

His eyes dim and his lips curve downwards. He nods, hanging his head.

“Yeah,” he whispers, “we do.”

He leads her over to the couch and gestures for her to sit down. Then he gets situated right next to her, positioning his hands on his knees. Marinette takes a deep breath.

“So… I saw the scars in class today.”

She shifts her eyes to his left wrist, uncovered and visibly scarred. He follows her eyes, frowning when he meets their destination.

Adrien simply hums, staring at the abused skin but not saying a word.

“Why?” Marinette whispers.

He shrugs.

“I’m fine. It’s just… Chat Noir gives me freedom, but sometimes it’s not enough. I promise I don’t do it that often.”

“The amount of times you do it doesn’t matter, kitty, it’s the fact that you do.”

“What do you care anyway?” He scoffs. “You weren’t paying me much attention before I was in a sour mood that day.”

“I’ve always cared, Adrien. Always. Just because I’m super level-headed doesn’t mean that I don’t pay attention. I notice when you’re sad. I do. This time you were really worrying me, though, so I spoke up.”

Adrien rolls his eyes, “And it didn’t occur to you that maybe I wanted you to ask how I was feeling all those other times I was sad?”

She quiets at that.

“I mean, I understand that you don’t want to get in my way, but I appreciate people caring, Marinette. It means a lot to me. I feel like, if I never gave away too much information, you would still be assuming things about me. Things like, oh he’s okay because he’s loud and cocky and cracks jokes all the time — maybe it’s just a bad day.”

He shakes his head, allowing a bitter laugh to escape his raw throat.

“Every day is a bad day, Mari. I’m just a good fucking actor.”

Marinette soaks in every word like a sponge, letting each and every one hit her right where it hurts, because it’s true. He is a good actor; she’s not good at understanding the script.

I’m sorry, she wants to say. The words dance on the tip of her tongue.

He’s not finished, though.

“I want the world to suffer some days, you know? I want everyone to feel just as pressured and exploited as I have been for basically my entire life. I want all my friends with a good family to see what it’s like to live in this large mansion, with their father closed away in his room, never to be seen again by his own son who just wants him to say I love you.”

When had he started crying?

Well, the tears are flowing and he can’t stop the river now. Not when he has more to say.

“I have the power of destruction wrapped around my finger, Marinette.”

His lip trembles.

“You should be glad that I haven’t tried to Cataclysm any houses, or street lights, or cars, or busses, or-or-or—“

He breaks.

He meant to keep going — to finish his sentence — but he breaks.

There’s not much more that Marinette can do, other than pull him into her arms and whisper soothing words of reassurance as he sobs uncontrollably.

She rubs his back, softly shh-ing him as he lets it all out of his system. She allows him to drown for the time being, all while reassuring that she’ll be there to pull him back to shore.

Each one of his sniffles was a subtle reminder that she was there for him; that no matter if his father comes around to finally paying him some attention, or not, he will always have her shoulder to cry on. Simultaneously, though, her heart twists at how unhealthily he’s been dealing with the trauma.

She had heard stories upon stories of teenagers resorting to self-harm because they had no other outlet, and she had been so thankful that no one she knew had taken those measures. Now, a statistic has become personal. She would be lying if she said that she knew how to handle it.

But she knew that no matter the circumstance, it had to be dealt with.

That meant getting her crush some professional help. A therapist, some medication, and plenty of cuddles. (Cuddles arescientifically proven to relieve anxiety, right? It’s a professional technique).

A quiet sniffle breaks her out of her thoughts. She glances down at Adrien as he slightly pulls away from her hold, eyes red and puffy.

Maybe that can all be dealt with later.

She ruffles his hair.

“Let’s go get some ice cream, yeah?”

Adrien peers up at her in confusion.

She just smiles and wriggles out of their position on his couch, then stands up with her hands on her hips.

“Ice cream always cheers me up. We definitely have to talk more about this later, among other things, but I can’t bear to see you sad any longer. So let’s go!”

The left corner of his mouth perks up, albeit only for a mere second.

“My father—“

“To hell with you father,” Marinette reaches down to grab his hand and hoists him up from the couch.

“We are going to get ice cream whether he likes it or not. You need to do what makes YOU happy, ‘kay?”

He concedes.

After ice cream, they return to the bakery and consult with Tom and Sabine. It had taken a lot of convincing on Marinette’s part to get Adrien to agree, but from there began the journey of his recovery.

They explained his home situation and mental health struggles in full, only leaving out the part about them fighting akumas. Both adults had immediately started searching for a good therapist (and lawyer) that would help Adrien get on the right track.

In the end, Adrien was glad that they had told her parents. Their concern for him and dedication to his cause filled his heart with long lost hope and parental love. It had been so long since he felt cared for. And now that he’s felt it once again, he’s not ready to let it go.

Thank goodness the Dupain-Chengs’ weren’t going to let him go so easily.

It was a unanimous decision that, until he feels comfortable going back to the mansion, he would stay. He didn’t want to burden them, but they insisted. So he had no choice but to accept the offer.

Before he even knew it, another two weeks had passed. A new routine was broken in by the members of the D.C. household — Marinette was getting real annoyed with Adrien’s constant comparisons of her last name initials to Marvel (her father had taken a liking to his puns, however, so now she just lived in constant pain) — and suddenly it was like he had always been there.

His first therapy session wasn’t great. He was riddled with anxiety (no pun intended) and Doctor Benson was too nice for his liking. Well, it wasn’t that he didn’t like it. It was just so off-putting, considering he wasn’t used to being treated with such kindness even by his own father.

Doctor Benson told him that a lot of the things he’s been experiencing aren’t normal, but his response to that trauma is. At first he had been confused when he was told that his father was emotionally neglectful and verbally abusive. He didn’t understand what his father was doing wrong. Once Doctor Benson explained that, “Abuse is a violent, repetitive behavior that has a negative mental, emotional, and/or physical impact on the victim,” it became more clear.

It’s still a concept that he’s getting used to — that he’s a victim of abuse. The thought makes his skin crawl and a shiver run up his spine because he never considered himself to be part of a statistic. Now that he knows he is, he’s not sure what to do.

Marinette keeps telling him, “Even agreeing to go to therapy is a huge step in the right direction, and I’m so proud of you.” Then she goes on to tell him just how special he is to her and how important him and his life is and all of this crap about how he’s worth more than he thinks.

He has to believe her, too, because she’s the one that found him at his worst and instead of judging him, picked him off the ground and took initiative. She’s the one that brought him to her parents, helped him hide from his father, and even got him a part-time job at the bakery. It’s only temporary until he is able to access his earnings, but he will admit that he likes it way better than modeling; that had just been because his father wanted him to, anyways.

Everyone tells him time and time again that he should not be living for his father. He wants to disagree, because that’s what he’s been conditioned to do for so long, but he ultimately chooses not to. Because they’re right; he’s a young adult who should have the freedom to make his own decisions.

In the end, if he’s not happy, there’s always more opportunities. He knows that now.

And there’s no better way to figure out what he wants than to explore, and reach out for help.

A black cat and a ladybug sat atop a roof.

Marinette has her head tucked into the crook of her partner’s neck, eyes closed as she feels the wind blow past her. Adrien’s head lays on top of hers’ and eyes are trained on the full moon above them.

It had been a long day; one akuma attack and three tests, plus their friends wanted to hang out. Exhaustion had taken over hours before, and sleep was creeping up on them. They cherish the view of Paris at night while it lasts, before they have to go home and do it all again the next day.

When she lifts her head to look at her favorite kitty, she’s relieved to see a soft smile resting on his features.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

He glances at her before turning back to the stars, then hesitates.

“Can I tell you a riddle?”

Her face pales and stomach plummets.

“N-no, I don’t want to play this game again.”

“I promise its a good one, nothing too sad.”

They lock eyes. She can tell there is sincerity within those dark green orbs, so she reluctantly nods.

Adrien licks his lips, not breaking his gaze.

“I visit you every night, even if you don’t call me. I’m lost every day. What am I?”

Jokingly, she wants to say “Chat Noir” but their identities are known now, and she sees him every day (so, admittedly, it wouldn’t be that good of a joke). Then she looks up at the sky and she has her answer.

“The stars,” she whispers.

She’s not looking at him, but she can almost hear his smile widen. So she looks back to him, because she loves to see her kitty happy.

Sure enough, a grin — genuine, not forced — is playing on his lips. It’s human nature to copy social expressions, so she lets her mouth curve into a matching grin.

Then she leans in.

Their smiles fade as they inch closer, focused on the next task at hand. His gaze drops to her pink lips, and she stares into his eyes. She can see the thirst, the want, but she can also see his hesitance.

Experimentally, she pauses to see if he’ll close the gap, but he simply stops in accordance with her. She wants this so bad, but he’s very shy when it comes to romance; despite being so outwardly confident as Chat Noir.

He had told her that it was a mask to hide how scared he truly was. His advances towards her were genuine, although deep down, he was afraid of rejection (to which she will forever feel guilty for putting him through). He wanted to break his façade sometimes, but he chose not to for the sake of not worrying her. The media might have noticed his change in behavior, too; granted, he never cared what the public thought of him anyways.

So, to save them both the trouble, she takes the leap and closes the gap, capturing his lips in a fluid movement.

It’s pure ecstasy; electricity pulses through his veins, but at the same time… he’s calm. He’s not sure how to describe the feeling, in all honesty. It’s just perfect.

Well, not perfect, he corrects himself. Enjoyable, but not perfect.

They don’t move in perfect sync and his lips are chapped so she’s probably wondering why the heck are his lips so dry?and her mouth keeps opening and he isn’t sure if it’s a mistake or if he should do something but he’s not ready for the tongue yet, and so their heads are tilting at an awkward angle trying to make sense of the situation —

— but she smells like pastries and her lips are so soft and he can’t help but crack his eyes open because she is so beautiful in every single way oh my god I love her and nothing makes this better than cupping her face with his right hand and feeling just how smooth her skin is which calms him immensely and he just doesn’t want this to end.

When they finally pull away, with heavy breaths and big smiles, little giggles and red cheeks… he’s happy.

Maybe he’s not perfect. Neither is she. Nobody is, and Adrien is just starting to understand that.

Years of conditioning is hard to unlearn, but he is so grateful to have a support system he can count on. Marinette’s parents honorarily adopting him as one of their own, Doctor Benson offering coping mechanisms he hadn’t even known existed, his bodyguard protecting him from the father sperm donor he’s still afraid to talk to (one day soon, he’ll have to, but he’s planning on crossing that bridge when he gets there), Ms. Bustier’s unwavering faith in his abilities, and his friends’ insistence that he is more than enough — all of this support is overwhelming, to say the least, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Most importantly, there’s Marinette. She has been his rock for the past three years and it’s more true now than it ever was. She is family, in every sense of the word.

“Hey, Mari?” He says quietly, breaking the silence.

“Yes, Chaton?”

The nickname rolls off her tongue in a teasing manner, and he has to laugh.

“Thank you.”

“Always.”

#mlb #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #adrienette #ladynoir #ladynoir identity reveal #adrienette kiss #tw depression #hurt adrien agreste #adrien agreste needs a hug #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug and chat noir

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wastelandlovingscenarios · 4 years ago

Note

Romanced!companions react to their precious fem!sole survivor getting slapped or strikes by an npc right in front of them? Can we categorize this; who would be the violent/threatening/just angry group? >:^0

omg, i’m pretty sure none of them would be remotely calm if that happened... but damn imagine the outcome of that poor npc. they lived a good life. this was a short request while i work on like 7 other ones, LOL.

thank you for requesting and please enjoy!

the next request i’m posting is gonna be a react that turned out a little longer than i expected so buckle up. 🤠

Danse:

violent/threatening

danse would for sure fall under the violent criteria of this situation. he already has one foot in the door once someone dares to go too close to sole, but hit her? that’s a totally different story for another day. that person better be praying to some god out there to give them mercy cause danse knows he won’t. the minute he hears that slap on soles face, it will trigger him to attack without a word. and to answer the question; does danse need a gun to do the job? absolutely not. those muscles are not just for show after all. no matter how many people hold him back, he will always fight his way through the crowd of people and beat the living fuck out of the person, even if they’re begging for him to stop. he won’t even realize the damage he’s done until after and won’t regret it either way, knowing that it was well deserved on their case. now if it was a situation where it was shoving or showing signs of starting a fight with his beloved, he’d step right in front of them and stare them down angrily with the biggest scowl ever. in some cases, that’s more than enough to scare most people off towards the other direction but in a few, he’s forced to threaten them. “i advise you step away unless you desire for this situation to escalate into something that involves solely you and i.” no one will ever be a threat to sole on his watch and he will make sure that nothing will stop him from protecting her.

Deacon:

threatening mixed with violence (depending the intensity of the situation)

deacons nice. he’s really laid back in most situations and is more than willing to let things go if he feels like it’s not worth the trouble. following that, deacons nice to a certain point and if you cross that point? consider yourself on his hitlist for the rest of your life. the intensity of the situation will determine how he’ll react towards it. if the person were to do as simple as shove sole, he’d keep an eye on them and say something within the lines of, “woah, woah, take it easy.” now if it was something like a slap or a punch, he wouldn’t even let it happen, not while he’s around. deacon would have fast enough reflexes to catch their wrist and he’d grip it enough to leave a mark, a displeased expression on his face. he’d even go as far as making jokes with an evil smile, such as, “oops my hand slipped,” or “oh you dropped this,” and proceed to deck the person as hard as he can with his free hand, not caring whether or not he knocks them unconscious. after that incident, he’d constantly terrorize the poor individual, often pulling pranks on them without any breaks. sometimes, he’d even go near them and speak in a happy tone while patting their back in a manner where it seemed a little too friendly.

Maccready:

threatening

mac is aware he’s not muscular nor is he made for fighting, which is why he sticks with guns during most situations. hes a lanky man and gets intimidated a little easier than most people, knowing that many of them could take him down with something as simple as a punch. it’s easier to say he’s more confident with a gun in his hand in these instances. despite his weaknesses, he would not hesitate to step up, knowing that hes unable to control his anger. he’d immediately point the gun at the persons temple and cock it just for intimidation purposes, but knows that he’s more than willing to pull the trigger if he needs to. it benefits him and the commonwealth more than damages it, seeing that this world needs one less asshole living it in, so who is he to care if this person dies or not? he’d slowly press it harder against the persons head, angrily speaking, “back away now.” if the person does so, he’ll gladly let them walk away without an injury and instead tend to sole. he wouldn’t let them go without some snarky comment like, “yeah keep walking and please let the door hit you on the way out.” if they refuse to move away from sole though, he’d gladly take the butt of his gun and smack it against their temple within seconds, completely ignoring the persons body knocked out on the floor. mac would get sole up and out of there as soon as he can, complaining under his breath about how much of that guy was an asshole and how he shouldve shot him.

Hancock:

violent group

consider one thing; that this person who fucked over his lover is beyond dead in his eyes. no one touches his sunshine, and if they dared to? theyll be wishing they hadn’t. hancock can quickly become someone’s friend, but the same can be said if it were an enemy. if he’s willing to stab someone for getting even a little too chummy and touchy with sole, imagine what he’d do if they dared to inflict pain on them. depending on where they are, like a bar for instance, he’d grab a glass bottle and crack it on the guys head, pushing him down on the floor without another word. using his shotgun, he’d make sure he’d put a few bullets through his body before he decides he’s completely satisfied with the new makeover he’s given them. now if he was in a more violent mood and was definitely not having it, he’d want to have their blood on his hands and wouldn’t care if it stained his clothes or not. he wants to send the message to everyone watching that if anyone dares to fucking cross his line, they’re gonna learn it the hard way and he will make it very known how the outcome of the situation will be. for example, he has a knife and what better way to use it than to stab the fuck out of someone for pissing him off? in some cases (depending on the severity of the situation), he’ll shank them in a place where he knows it’ll hurt the most and leave them there to suffer so they’ll get the idea that if they fuck with the people he treasures, they have another thing coming.

Nick Valentine:

mix of threatening and just angry.

honestly, nick is very civil about most cases and he won’t get violent unless absolutely necessary. he will definitely be beyond angry and give the person so much fucking shit for their actions. nick almost never yells but in this case, he’d yell so loud, it would fill up the silence of the room. nick also uses a lot of profanities when doing so, unable to maintain his professional attitude and his usual cool. “now what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” he’d even go as far as shoving them back, keeping a distance between sole and the person who deemed themselves as a threat to her presence. he’d try to minimize the possibility of violence arising, knowing that both him and sole are not as replaceable as they seem. he’d sneer at the person who striked sole, talking in the most irritated tone possible, “if i wasn’t here controlling her anger, you would’ve been dead on the pavement just a few minutes back, pal. consider yourself lucky that you were spared.” regardless if the person continued talking or not, nick would casually take soles hand and pull her away from the scene as he let out a remark loud enough for them to hear; “we don’t have time for the likes of you anyway, so take your trouble elsewhere.” nick has like zero shame when it comes to back talking or insulting someone he’s not fond of, so you best believe he won’t shut up until you both are out of sight.

Preston:

honestly, just angry.

preston will avoid violence at all costs, considering he doesn’t favor the idea and as much as he hates seeing sole get hurt, he doesn’t want to risk starting another issue. sole has a reputation amongst the commonwealth and the last thing he wants is to taint it or fuck it up, so he lets sole decide whether or not violence should be pursued. also considering that she has more than enough on her plate, he doesn’t want to add on to the list of problems she already has. so unless this guy is literally on the verge of gravely injuring his other half, he won’t do much besides step in front of sole to protect her from any further hits. he’d rather take the hits than to let someone as important as her take them firsthand. he wouldn’t forgive himself if such a thing happened. even if sole did most of the work in the end, he’d still send them the dirtiest look he’s ever given anyone and his hand would already be on the trigger of his laser musket, ready to fire at the guy anytime just in case. before officially leaving the person to do their own thing and bidding them goodbye, he’d get a little up close and personal, talking in the most threatening tone possible (even if he’s not the greatest at it); “once you mess with the general, you mess with the minutemen. i’d suggest you choose your battles a little better next time around.”

Sturges:

just angry

we all know by now sturges is a huge pacifist and will refuse to resort to violence unless he has no absolute choice but to do so. sturges is a very kind man and just like deacon, he’s willing to let most cases go but he respects sole too much to let violent situations like this slide. even if he’s very afraid to get into a violent situation head on, he’ll try to keep it as calm as possible, not wanting to escalate the situation more. being the considerate lover he is, he will ask sole to stay back and keep away from the person as much as possible as he tries to handle the situation himself. even if sturges doesn’t show it, he does get very angry in these instances and will not allow it to happen regardless of the reason. he’ll probably talk to the person with a firm tone and an irate expression but do nothing further than that unless the individual wants blood spilled, which in this case, sole is brought back into the situation. knowing sturges, he’d probably tell the person something like, “hey buddy, i really don’t appreciate what ya just did to my girl. ya need to quit it cause it ain’t right.” or, “if we got a problem, you can always just come to me instead of strikin’ that beautiful lady of mine. i’m willin’ to fix it with ya and if not, then i’m willin’ to take the hit.. though i’m sure my girl wouldn’ appreciate such a motive.” he knew she really wouldn’t. sole would shoot them down before he could let out a soft, “told ya so.”

Gage:

the ceo of violent

even if the raider life consists of injuries, blood, dirty work, and violence, he will never allow sole to get hurt under his watch. even if he tells her to toughen up and get used to it, he truly wants to protect her from the world and anything that could run as a potential hazard. that being said, he doesn’t care who the fuck strikes sole- it could be a man, woman, the highest and most royal person in the planet and it’d still have the same result in the end. gage wouldn’t even give them a chance to explain themselves and would simply let out a small, “oh fuck no, you ain’t.” and shoot them down himself before sole could give him an order. he would take the situation into his own hands with or without soles persmission, knowing that they crossed gages line of comfort. if he’s not satisfied with that or feels as if that’s too much of an easy way out, he’ll shoot their leg and come closer to them to step on their chest to block any chance of escaping. “wanna act tough, huh? show me how tough ya are, why dontcha? be my guest and apologize to the overboss. i’ll let her decide if it’s good enough to let ya go.” if sole were to deny every apology, he’d continue to shoot them limb by limb until he decides to put them down completely. now if sole decides their apology is more than enough, he’ll willfully let them go but let her decide their fate on whether they should be put down or not. in the end, if he had his way with that bastard, they wouldn’t be seeing the light for a long while.

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sherrybaby14 · 5 years ago

Text

Moral of the Story

Summary: Steve’s girl likes to party all the time and he’s at his wit’s end. Then he meets you.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x female reader.

Warnings: Alcohol, Smut, ANGST

Words: 5k

A/N: This is for the wonderful @captain-rogers-beard challenge. Congrats Doll! My prompt was “Party all the Time” by Eddie Murphy.

The music was a bit louder than you would have liked, but at least the song was catchy. You sipped on your drink as you watched the dance floor, your friend’s waving you over.

With a smirk you shook your head and lifted your drink, far too sober to dance.

“I think they want you to join them?” A voice boomed in your ear.

You did a jump as you turned to see a gorgeous blonde next to you.

“I don’t want to spill my drink.” You ran your hands down your now wet dress.

“Oh Jeez, I’m so sorry ma’am.” He reached for some cocktail napkins. “Let me buy you another.”

“It’s okay.” You began to pat your dress dry. “It’s probably better on my clothes than down my throat. I don’t drink often.”

“Me either.” He gave a warm smile.

“Then why are you in a nightclub?” You turned to the bar, trying to block out the loud music and not have to yell so much. “Here to pick up women?”

“A friend invited me.” His gaze went to the dance floor.

You followed it and saw he was looking at a dark haired man. You couldn’t see his face because it was being covered by a gorgeous brunette. She pulled away and you blinked a few times, she had to be a model, a perfect ten.

“I think your friend is going to get lucky.” You turned back to see his jaw clench up.

“Yeah, it looks like it.” He looked away, there was a pain in his eyes. “If I can’t buy you a new drink how about a cup of coffee?”

“Oh, I don’t think they sell coffee here.” You shrugged.

He erupted in laughter and you glanced around, not noticing the punch line.

“There’s a diner a block away.” He leaned against the bar. “Open twenty four hours. I know I’m a stranger, but I could get out of here and by the looks of it so could you.”

“I’m game.” You put your glass on the bar and started walking to the door.

“I’m Steve by the way.” He held out his hand.

“I know who you are.” You smiled. “I think the whole world knows who you are.”

A confused look spread across his face. The brisk nighttime air made your arm get some goosebumps, but you let out a sigh of relief when the music died down.

“That’s not the reaction I get from most people who know who I am.” Steve grabbed his chin. “Maybe I should grow a beard again.”

“Would you rather I asked for an autograph and a selfie?” You raised an eyebrow, then put the back of your hand to your forehead. “Oh Captain my Captain?”

“Alright, I get it.” Steve laughed. “So what’s your story? I guess your the one whose the stranger here.”

“It’s not like I know everything about you, just the headlines.” You winked. “Workaholic, I love my job, it keeps me busy. In my free time I do the basics, read, watch movies, attempt and fail at the newest workout craze.”

“Pilates man.” Steve pulled the diner door open. “It’s a lot harder than it looks.”

“I fall in every yoga position.” You followed Steve as he slid into a booth. “Zumba was fun, but I’m lacking in rhythm.”

“You?” Steve’s eyes went wide. “You look like you would be a great dancer.”

“I’m great at a lot of things.” You flipped over your mug. “But bad at more.”

“I’m really bad at board games. I flipped the board last time I played Monopoly.” Steve leaned back in the booth. “But I am amazing at tic-tac-toe.”

“Oh yeah?” You reached in your purse and pulled out a pen, drawing the lines on a napkin. “Prove it?”

“Even with all this coffee and stimulating conversation.” You brought your hand to your mouth to stifle the yawn. “Exhaustion is setting in. I’ve got to get to bed.”

“How far do you live from here?” Steve reached for his wallet. “It’s almost 4 am. Can I walk you home?”

“Four am?” You hadn’t checked your phone since you told your friends you were safe after vanishing, that was five hours ago.

Sure enough the device read 3:56.

“Damn.” You grabbed a menu. “Might as well order breakfast then.”

Steve looked shocked, but then nodded in agreement, not pulling a menu. The server took notice and came over.

“I’ll have a meat lovers skillet, side of country gravy, sub American cheese, eggs over easy, wheat toast?” You but the menu back.

“I’ll have the same.” Steve leaned forward.

“Really?” The waitress was confused. “Not the usual?”

“I’m being adventurous tonight.” Steve winked.

“Okay.” She walked away.

“I like the way you know what you want.” Steve leaned back. “Kind of no nonsense. It’s refreshing.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” You laughed. “Maybe when it comes to diner food at 4 am. I’ve been eating my whole life after all.”

“So why isn’t there anyone special in your life?” Steve almost seemed fidgety.

“There’s lots of special people in my life.” You smiled. “I’m very close with my parents, my siblings, have some great friends I’d call family, my coworkers are amazing too.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Steve’s eyes showed a strange wave of vulnerability.

“No reason.” You wished you had a better answer. “I’ve dated plenty, had some serious partners, some not so serious. I guess I’m picky? What about you?”

“The friend who invited me to the club tonight, it was the girl.” Steve gave a pressed smile. “We were very serious, she broke it off about two months ago. Wanted to try being friends. I agreed to give it a go. I don’t see how it’s going to work.”

The perfect 10 brunette. Your heart started to ache for the man. He was heartbroken. It was all over his face, body language. Everything clicked.

“What a bitch.” You brought your hand to your mouth and looked at him with wide eyes.

He laughed and you relaxed.

“There you go, being honest and direct again.” Steve put his elbows on the table. “I don’t think people can be friends with exes. It’s not in the cards.”

“I’ve never tried.” You were more of the it’s done it’s done type. “My philosophy is look forward. The future. Thinking about the past, it’s a dangerous trap.”

“I’m starting to think the same thing.” Steve’s eyes lit up. “She is a big party girl, I mean, she’s a model so sometimes its a networking thing. But I never really fit into her life.”

“Wait, were you guys like a tabloid couple?” You tilted your head. “Can I read all about your breakup on instagram?”

“No!” Steve rolled his eyes. “That was part of the problem. I think she wanted that. Being with me could elevate her career and it made me feel used, so I wouldn’t allow public photos. There’s a few that leaked, but nothing confirming our relationship.”

“Wow, you celebrities are a different breed.” It never once crossed your mind to post about who you were having coffee with.

“I am not a celebrity.” Steve wagged a finger at you.

“Oh I’m sorry.” You brought your hand to your chest. “Historical figure.”

Steve cracked up. His laugh was infectious and you joined, chuckling away.

“Without being too forward young lady,” Steve reached out and grabbed your hand, sparks shooting down your arm. “Could I have your telephone number?”

You knew he was bating you for a joke. But you preferred the natural type.

“Yes.” You reached for your phone, breaking the hand touch. “You can have my number.”

Noon hit and you forced yourself out of bed, six hours of sleep was doable. You began to make your mental checklist of projects for the day while you brushed your teeth.

There was a giddy ness in the back of your mind over last night. He was a cool guy and it was a fun time. Your brain started to think about work. You had to call your parents and check in, probably explain to your friends about where you went, you would leave out the Captain America angle.

You grabbed your phone and your jaw about hit the floor. There was a text from Steve already.

Are you going to say good morning?

You didn’t think you would hear from him for at least a few days. It made you smile and wiggle as you sat on the bed.

Good morning! Or afternoon?

Before you set the device down the reply bubbles started to form. You parted ways seven hours ago. It was a Saturday. This was unexpected. The bubbles disappeared and then reappeared several times. You were on the edge of your seat.

Then your phone started to vibrate. You almost threw the thing, seeing Steve’s name pop up. Instead your smile grew as you slid it to answer.

“Was good afternoon not appropriate? Technically it’s 12:15, that is literally after noon.” You tried to stifle the excitement.

“You want to have a beer with me tonight?” Steve’s voice was just as sexy over the phone. “I would say dinner, but I know you had some things to take care of. There’s this sports bar I love, I promise I won’t spill anything on you and coffee keeps us up too late.”

“I’d love to.” You didn’t see a point in trying to act coy.

“Great, nine o’clock? I’ll text you the address.” Steve’s smile carried over the phone.

“Sounds like a plan.” You ran your hand over your hair and wondered if you could get away without washing it.

“Have a great day. I”ll see you tonight.”

“Bye.” You clicked off the phone and did a little happy dance.

You didn’t see that one coming.

Your phone lit up with Steve’s message right away. You sent a thumbs up emoji. To your surprise, Steve responded:

Emojis, it’s like hyrogliphics are coming back? Why did we skip the sonnets?

You didn’t even think before responding.

You: Shall I compare thee to a Summer’s Day? Thou art more lovely and temperate.

Steve: Sonnet 18, one of the greats.

You: I stole it from Clueless.

Steve: What’s Clueless?

You woke the next morning, at your normal 8 am. Even more thrilled with the date from the night before. It was fun. It was a fantastic time. Of course the texting all day long made the conversation flow right to person-to-person.

“I can’t sleep until noon tomorrow.” You stood up from the bar stool. “Plus I hit my three beer maximum. Maybe once I know you better you can meet four beer me.”

“You’re guarded in the strangest ways.” Steve beamed at you.

“Me?” You were shocked. “I’m an open book. Nothing to hide.”

“Well would this bother you then?” Steve cupped your cheek and before you could react his face leaned in.

Warm lips met yours. You melted into him, your body felt like it was floating. Nobody in the bar paid you any attention as his tongue slid into your mouth before pulling out. A little moan came forward when he pulled away.

There was a devilish grin on his face as he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles.

“Let’s get you an Uber.”

All you could do was nod in a numb state. This amazing man kissed you. It was like a dream.

You were all smiles as you rolled out of bed, straight to the bathroom. Sundays were your lazy day, but you missed too much yesterday that you had to squeeze some work in. It wouldn’t be too much.

When you left the bathroom you grabbed your phone. Your heart exploded when you saw there was already a text from Steve.

Today you can say good morning. I have faith.

Steve Rogers was perfect. Three dates in a week, not including coffee night. Every other day he wanted to see you. He made you laugh, listened to you, was always available. Sent you little comics you found funny. You giggled at the last gif he sent you of a puppy eating bubble.

You: I’ve got to head into a work meeting. I’ll text you later.

Steve: Knock ‘em dead.

Supportive too. You smiled as you slipped your phone into your pocket. It had only been a week, but you couldn’t remember the last time you connected with someone this way, if ever.

“You’re smiley.” A coworker bumped you with her arm. “It’s almost like you have a glow.”

“Just a happy person.” You shrugged. “How is your son doing? Any luck on that math test?”

“Oh he did much better!” Your coworker dropped her shoulders in relief. “That tutor was worth every penny.”

She continued to talk and you tried to listen, but your thoughts kept drifting to Steve. This was the best week of your life.

The meeting got your adrenaline pumping. You left and went straight to your office, typing away the e-mails, ready to get the new project off the ground. It was almost time to call it a day, the sun was starting to set.

That was when you picked up your phone. Two messages from Steve. Fuck. Guilt set in.

How was the meeting?

Everything okay?

You grabbed your phone and started typing.

You: Sorry work got crazy. Major project. Just leaving now.

Steve: Do you want to over to my place for dinner? Unwind? I can have a meal and some wine for you, straight away?

Unwinding with Steve sounded perfect, plus you were more interested in the version that didn’t involve a meal.

You looked down at your work clothes, your makeup probably long smeared off, but did that matter? Steve didn’t seem to care about your appearance. He wanted you for who you were. And right now that sounded perfect.

You: Do you have ice cream?

Steve: Oh my freezer is overflowing. Any flavor you like. Popsicles too.

You: I’m in. Text me your address?

Every other time you arrived at a paramour’s place for the first time you were nervous. Not this time. Your brain played a slide show of the last week. The way Steve listened, hung on your words, followed up with questions. He made you feel like the most important person in the world.

Your past experiences taught you that people were either fantastic talkers or listeners. You prided yourself on being both, but Steve seemed to fall in that same category.

With a strange confidence you hit the buzzer for his apartment. The door unlocked and you walked up the stairs, speeding up with each step.

When you got to his floor you spotted him hanging out the door, waving at you. This was going to be the hard part.

“Before I step inside, I have to let you know something.” You rehearsed this in your head a few times. “Work was insane today, and I know tomorrow is Saturday, but I have to put in a few hours. This happens about twice a year, not a common occurrence. But as much as I want to, I can’t spend the night.”

“Okay.” Steve nodded and held the door open. “Again I love your honesty.”

You walked in to see all the only lights on in the apartment two candles on the clothed kitchen table. Your heart started to sink at the thought he’d put into it, but then you noticed the meal set out at each end and began to laugh.

“Full disclosure, all I had was some TV dinners.” Steve came behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “And there’s no ice cream or popsicles. But I can think of something I want for dessert.”

You spun around and put your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss. He reached underneath you and scooped you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you, deepening the kiss.

Nothing had ever felt so right in your life. It was as if the cosmos had brought you together.

“You’re too perfect.” You pulled away as he dropped you on the bed.

“You’re a one-in-a-million.” Steve’s breath was heavy as he started to pull at your clothing.

Hands were everywhere, lips randomly touching whatever skin they could. Shoes and socks flying off with pants and shirts. You shoved his boxers down as he unhooked your bra, the feeling of your bare chests pushed together making you shudder.

Steve grabbed your panties and yanked them down as you settled back on his bed. On your back, legs spread, knees up. His arm encircled your thigh as he began to kiss. You moaned and fisted the blanket, lifting your pelvis up inviting his mouth.

He wasted no time and began to devour you. You tried to pay attention to what he was doing, but you couldn’t keep up. Was that his tongue? His lips? You cried out when something slid inside of you.

“FUCK!” Your body convulsed around his mouth.

Your chest heaved while your brain tried to keep up with the pleasure. Steve kept licking, touching, working you. Everything was frenzied. Your head collapsed to the side and you tried to regain control.

“I knew you were primed.” Steve kissed up your stomach. “But you have one more in you.”

He climbed until he was over you, his cock lining up with your entrance. Never had you came that fast from another person.

Steve pushed forward and filled your aching pussy. You squealed and grabbed onto his shoulders. Rolling your body against his.

“That’s it.” He nipped at your neck. “You were meant for me. Never felt this way before.”

You grabbed his face and pulled his lips to your own, enjoying the taste of yourself on him while he railed into you. He returned the kiss and sped up. Slamming his cock, teasing your clit while your g-spot came to life.

There was no hiding your moans and his grunts as your bodies melded together. Your breath started to tighten, and then your muscles started. The edge came fast and you flung yourself over.

Your head went back into the pillow as your screamed, it was impossible to tell if your vision went black since the room was too dark. But Steve let out a grunt and pulled out of you.

Instead of blowing all over your stomach he pushed your head down. You slid down the bed and opened your mouth.

His aim was perfect and for the second time you tasted yourself, enjoying the way he finished in your mouth, letting your lips wrap around his tip. Drinking him all down while your body shook.

“I think I’m falling in love.” Steve pushed forward before pulling out and landing on his back.

You nodded, breathless as you curled up to him. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close, kissing the top of your head.

You ignored the tears forming in your eyes, fighting them away. If pure happiness existed, this was it. How did you get so lucky?

Steve: I’m going to hug my pillow all night wishing it was you.

You glanced at the clock, it was already approaching midnight.

You: I’m sorry I couldn’t stay. Thank you for a wonderful night and a gourmet meal.

Steve: Get some sleep. I miss you.

You: I miss you too.

You grabbed your pillow. If Steve was pretending his was you, maybe you could do that same. A huge smile on your face as you drifted off.

You woke with a smile. Maybe Smiley could be your new nickname. You grabbed your phone eager to see what Steve had sent. To your surprise, there was no message.

All week long you’d woken up to messages. You smiled even bigger, maybe you’d finally worn him out and the man needed more sleep than you did.

You rolled out of bed to brush your teeth, thoughts filled with nothing but Steve.

Work was so intense, you turned your phone off. No distractions. When the team broke for lunch you flipped it on, your heart racing to see Steve’s messages. When the screen came to life you saw nothing.

Maybe it was wrong? Messages glitched sometimes. You clicked the app open, all you saw was your last message. It said read at 12:03 am.

You shrugged it off. Steve knew you had a big work day. He was being respectful. You thought about texting him, but you had to get back to it and didn’t want to come off as needy. It wasn’t like you could text him all afternoon.

The project finished an hour early, 4 pm on a Saturday. Everyone gave themselves a round of applause and you did a lazy golf clap as you reached for your phone.

Your heart exploded when you saw a message from Steve.

Steve: How was your day?

You: Good. I have so much to tell you!

There was no bubble response, or read receipt. You stared at your phone. Maybe turning it off had been a bad idea.

After saying goodbye to your colleagues and walking to you subway stop your phone dings with a message.

Steve: Can we meet for coffee?

You giggled.

You: Why not dinner? The real kind this time. It was a big day for me! I want to celebrate, you can supply dessert again.

Steve: Coffee. Now? First night?

Maybe he had a big day too. He’d been so supportive of you, it was due to return the favor.

You: Sure. I’ll be there in twenty.

You headed to the other subway line, more than eager for a sleepover tonight.

When you arrive at the diner you scan it, not seeing Steve anywhere. Maybe you beat him here. You were about to grab a random booth when a man in a black hoodie, baseball hat, and sunglasses sticks his hand in the air.

You smile, wondering if this is some Avenger’s mission.

“Are you going as the Unabomber for Halloween?” You slide into the booth. “I couldn’t even recognize you.”

“There’s no easy way to say this.” Steve cracked his jaw. “Ashley called me last night. Very upset.”

“Whose Ashley?” You blurted out the first thought that came to your mind.

“My ex.” He let out a huge sigh. “She’s a mess.”

“The bitch from the club?” You were a little interested in the drama.

“She’s not a bitch.” Steve put his hands on the table and your blood ran cold. “She has some problems. She is working on them. And we have a lot of history and she needs my help.”

“Oh.” You felt like your soul floated out of your body.

“You’re so perfect.” He reached out and grabbed your hands. “But she needs me. You don’t need me. We have a lot of history and I owe it to her to try.”

“Oh.” Everything went numb.

“I wanted to let you know in person and before things got too serious.” Steve squeezed your hand. “If I could take back last night, I wouldn’t. It was perfect, you’re perfect.”

“You already said that.” Your voice was getting tight.

“But I mean it.” He pushed the hood off his baseball cap. “I can’t leave her. Without me, I mean, you saw her at the club that night. She’s a disaster.”

The tears started to boil in your throat they were so deep. You yanked your hands away, thoughts flying to wild to speak clearly. You didn’t know if you wanted to scream at him or plead with him to pick you.

“I hope we can stay friends?” He let out a sigh. “I mean, you’re amazing and you made me so happy this past week. Probably the happiest I’ve been in my entire life. You’re smart, and witty, and beautiful, and you’re everything.”

The way he said week hit home. It was only a week. Not a month, not a year. Just a week. A lot of digs ran through your mind, ways you could make a joke, ways you could state your feelings. But instead you said one thing.

“Sure.” Your brain started to scream at itself.

“That’s such a relief.” Steve dropped his shoulders.

“I had a really long day.” You stood up from the booth. “Talk soon?”

You didn’t look back as you ran to the door, the tears spilling over. With a shaky hand you pulled out your phone, screaming at yourself for being so stupid to develope feelings, but smart enough to do one thing. You highlighted his contact and clicked delete.

Friends, family, whoever would talk had to listen to you cry. You didn’t hold back for them. You made sure they alternated duty. You even took a week off of work.

“If I would have stayed that night, would he have ignored her?” You sobbed to your best friend.

“No hunny.” She ran a hand through your head. “No. You got caught in a weird game.”

Steve: How do you kill a circus?

It’s a random number not saved to a contact, but you know that’s the first text you get from Steve. You know the punchline, but rather than responding you delete it. The last thing you want is to memorize his number.

You would’ve broken down and sent some very dumb stuff you would’ve regretted. It’s only been five days. He should send his girlfriend those jokes, not you.

Three days later you get another.

Steve: How are you?

You think about deleting it, you think about screaming you broke my heart, acting cool like you’re busy, or just gushing about how much you miss him and what a great guy his is.

You: Fine.

Steve: Glad to hear.

You don’t hesitate to delete the thread.

Steve: I miss you.

Your heart races. It’s been two weeks since the night you had the best sex of your life. The tears sting your eyes. You’ve been apart longer than you were together. Did he realize he made a mistake? Was he coming back to you?

You start typing: I miss

But then you stop. No. You had to frame this right. State it right. But what was there to do? Yell at him into loving you? Did you love him? Your heart hurt like it had, but this was wrong.

With a shaky finger you highlighted the number and moved it to block. The sobs came again and you cuddled your phone, regretting your choice.

The day you hit the month mark you were trying not to think about Steve, but then the celebrity hit: CAPTAIN AMERICA ENGAGED! It ran all over the headlines.

Him and his fiance were plastered everywhere. You couldn’t escape. It hit you then. You were a rebound. You were nothing. A temporary step on his life path. It hurt. It hurt more than anything. No ice cream could repair the hole one week with Steve Rogers had created.

“I’m glad we got you out tonight.” Your friend poked you in the side as she screamed in your ear. “What’s it been, months since you’ve been in a club?”

“Yep.” Two, but you tried not to think about how your last time in a nightclub ended, how it could derail your life. “But I’m here.”

You still hated the loud music. Memories of a sports bar with Steve tried to come forward, but you buried them before they could.

“Let’s dance!” She grabbed your hand.

“Not yet.” You yanked it away. “In a few drinks.”

“I’ll wait with you.” She settled next to you. “But that dance floor is inviting.”

The bodies were moving and you scanned the area. Your eyes bulged when you spotted a familiar face, tongue down a mouth.

“Is that…..is that Captain America’s fiance?” Your friend grabbed your arm, you never told them the mysterious Steve’s last name. “She’s not kissing Cap.”

She pulled out her phone ready to take a picture, but you put your hand out and lowered her arm.

A wave of clarity rushed over you.

“His girl wants to party all the time. He buys her champagne and diamonds.” A weird smile settled over you. “He thinks he can fix her.”

That was the problem. You didn’t need fixing. And if you ever did you would figure it out for yourself, with the support of people around you. Steve hit the nail on the head when he said you didn’t need him. You never would.

“Go dance.” You gave your friend a playful spank on the ass.

For the first time in two months you felt like yourself and turned back to the bar hoping to block the music.

A finger tapped your shoulder and you looked up with no jump.

“It’s loud in here.” A handsome man with dark hair looked down at you.

“There’s a coffee shop a block away.” You stood up. “Can I buy you a cup?”

“Yes.” He nodded and set his drink down.

“What’s your name?” You yelled over the music.

“Stephen.” He was right behind you.

“Do you go by Steve and what are your thoughts on needy women?” You pushed open the door to the club.

The air was hot and you rolled your shoulders back, embracing the lack of obnoxious music.

“If I went by Steve I would have introduced myself that way.” His intense eyes glared at you. “And I am a surgeon. Everyone I encounter is needy. I don’t have time for it in my personal life.”

You stifled your laughter at the response. At least Steve had taught you to speak your mind. Having a flashback to leaving the bar with him.

“Well Mr. Stranger, I will never need you.” You grinned at him. “Except for good conversation and occasional support.”

“It’s actually Doctor Strange.” He chuckled. “I think that’s the first time I laughed in months.”

“Tell me about it...literally.” You kicked at the sidewalk. “How do you kill a circus?”

The man scoffed at you and then wiped off his sleeves.

“You go for the juggler of course.”

#Steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel #marvel fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

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petewentzisblack1312 · 4 years ago

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hey dils!! was listening to sunshine riptide and thought of u so i wanted to say i hope ur taking care and also ask if u have any favorite fob videos/interviews?? lately i have been obsessed w the promo video patrick did for the honda civic tour where he drove around LA and said the only reason they got the tour was because he already drove a civic ahsjdbd

first of all it is SO flattering that listening to sunshine riptide made you think of me ��

secondly i was molded out of clay to answer this question, 100% i have a lot that i think about like way too often

the one where petes giving a tour of his parents house where he lived at the time and was showing off his stuff and was particularly very excited about the fact that his band was turned into action figures and then half way through andy shows up and is like "were best friends forever!" and petes like "yeah andy comes over for sleepovers a lot, we hang out in my basement and make zines and stuff" and then at the end he gets all excited cuz he hears his moms car pull up and he goes out and shes coming out of the car and then patrick gets out of the car carrying groceries and petes like "here mom me and patrick can put the groceries away you finish the interview" and shes like "no- pete i just got home from work im a mess" and hes like "what? no! no mom you look great, you can finish the interview well take in the groceries" and then she did and the camera crew came back to the two of them messing around and putting groceries away.

"pete wentz is honestly the only way to describe pete wentz. hes the most complicated guy i know." [cut to] "if anyone can make a strike without touching the lane i will pay you $300" *throws bowling balls straight into the air* *runs down the lane*

ok but in all seriousness i love that interview not only for that iconic moment but because later the footage is like blaring i dont care and pete goes and grabs a stuffed giraffe out of the prize thingie and hes like "what do you mean :)? we bought this with our tickets!!" and the editors are very much trying to make it a bad boy rebel without a cause moment except if you looked the woman behind the counter had a smile on her face and was laughing and then afterwards he gave it back and said "we werent really gonna steal it" but it really seemed like she knew that already

and then at a different point a couple fans showed up and they were all shy and excited to meet him and he was just like "hey are you guys coming to the show later" and they were like "yeah" and he was like "cool! thanks for coming out :) do you want a picture?" and they took a picture and it seemed like he was still kinda excited that people were excited to meet him. marcus (their bodyguard) was like trailing behind him and smiling and laughing throughout most of these antics and i just think thats sweet.

later in this same interview once again as they were on the ride back to their hotel or whatever theyd brought back a fake moustache and patrick put it on and did a bunch of dumb impressions.

patrick: if i wasnt doing music i think id be like a music critic or music journalist or something

andy:...i thought you said youd work at walmart

theres this one srar era interview thats just joe and patrick riffing for like 15 minutes. like it looks like they just straight up forgot the interviewer was there its so funny theyre such good friends.

this one joe and pete interview where i dont even really remember what they were talking about but theres a moment where joes talking about music with this intense passion and pete just kinda looks at him with this level of brotherly pride that keeps me going

this one andy and pete interview where 1) there were waterfowl chillin behind them which was deeply fascinating to andy and 2) they took a moment to swivel their chairs and hug each other bc theyre besties

band superlatives, specifically the moment where theyre all separately like "technically marcus isnt in the band but like. its marcus." bc that was sweet, unofficial 5th member of fob. and also "whos the most talented" "patrick. patrick. its patrick, hands down." "hm. petes like a really good soccer player" like thats a moment out of a fucking sitcom

halloween asmr with pete wentz. the man cant act but god can he commit to a bit.

there was this like live text chat that they all were in with fans on some radio station website. there were a lot of very fun moments, including joe saying "this is very current technology." as a comment on how very dated the live chat was and andy being like "can we set an icon i wanna change mine to an XVX" and pete and joe being like "oh are you vegan straight edge? we had no idea." and then pete was like "actually i wanna change my icon to andy hurley" and andy was like "no pete im not gonna send you a picture of me" and he was like :( and then a minute later he changed it to andy and he was like, and i swear this is almost a direct quote "BOOM! i love my life haha" and andy was like "goddammit" like i have no idea where to find this but it was so good.

theres this one "this or that" interview with joe and andy wherein the interviewer was a woman and like she seemed pretty at ease around them and got to the last question and imo seemed kinda uncomfortable and kind of established (in a way that seemed like she didnt usually do that) that it was a gross question, which was "would you have sex with a super hot celebrity but shes just died" and both of them were like "hey. what the fuck. absolutely not." and shes like "oh thats a first" and they are both like "do people say yes to that????????" and shes like "youre literally the first people to say no haha" in a way that made it seem that she did not find it funny and i just find that to be an interesting moment and i hope shes doing well and has a better producer now.

theres this one interview w andy on a hardcore podcast where the interviewer asks andy "do you every wish fall out boy were more political?" and he said (paraphrasing) "fall out boy is political, in its own way. we may not be as explicit with our politics as my other stuff, but kids find fall out boy, and through me, with all my other bands, or through joe, since he does a lot of metal, find heavier stuff, and are introduced to this stuff and to being vegan straight edge or anarchist or just more radical politics, and i dont think that just because we arent being super political in our music we arent a political band" which was really something to me bc i had just been thinking about that as a concept i call "gateway punk"

theres this one interview i recently found of a very small chicago music news outlet where a young lady interviewed pete and asked far more interesting questions than any other interviewer id ever seen and one such question was how he felt about the legalization of marijuana in illinois and he said that it was cool that it was legal but everyone locked up for it right now should be released and i like that he got to be political

theres a moment on the badass jew podcast episode joe was on where the interviewer whomst i do not recall was espousing some veiled antiblack sentiments wrt some antisemitic comments some famous black people had made and joe just completely rebutted it immediately and pointed out that black people not only are not a monolith bht are at a greater disadvantage

and also he made a joke that i could never make and cant fully get bc im not jewish but it was very funny and i love hearing people make jokes that arent for me.

this one interview before patrick had kids where he was saying how everyone kept asking him and elisa when theyd have kids and he was like "you cant just make that happen yknow? how do you just do that?" and pete immediately grinned and leaned over and mock whispered "you have sex" and patrick punched the air and was like "i hate you so much"

that one interview about abap where pete was like "we actually got the guy who did the whistles on patience by guns n roses to do it on this" and then he looks over at patrick and patrick shakes his head and petes like "you couldnt let me have this?" and he was like "i was gonna but then you looked at me and i just couldnt."

"whats the most important thing to you right now?"

patrick: star wars

joe: my daughter.

patrick: ...my son?

the puppy interview. everyone involved including the puppies was having the time of their goddamn life.

i have to stop this is too much its been like an hour

#dils declares #theyre so stupid.

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fakeloveaskblog · 3 years ago

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Janus, have you and Remus hung out other then when you go to fake therapy? You should ask him out? Keep it open, maybe not outright ask him for a date but to hang out!

(Words: 2140)

Janus: "Oh you know me anon. I am so totally known for asking people to hang out. Yes me and Remus have been eeeverywhere together /s No we have never hung out.......But I suppose you have been very wise so far. So I shall try and go ut of my comfort zone and ask him he would like to spend time together"

They were in that same spot they always stood after the fake therapy. Where they were supposed to part ways. Remus had his phone out, checking the bus times. Janus knew he had to say something now or else yet another week would pass and he would never have the courage to ask.

"Do ehm is you- fuck-" Janus wanted to smash his head open on a rock. He was a idiotic mess who couldn't even say a simple sentence.

"What?" Remus looked at him with a smile. Jan swore he had specifically practiced that smile so it made him melt internally every single time.

"Do you maybe possibly have anything to do today?"

"Oh yeah all booked up with exorcising demons out of old ladies' houses. you know how it is!" He let out a short screechy laugh "Come on Snakey y'know I don't have a job or any plans on robbing banks right now. Of course I'm free!"

"Noted. Then I am totally not asking you to perhaps do something like going to the movies?"

Remus' eyes widened and he shone up into a huge toothy smile "YES!" He grabbed Janus' hand while flapping with his other hand "You gotta be psychic or something! I've been wanting to see this movie made by a director I'm hyperfixating on but I didn't wanna go alone and my sister is still out of town SO this is great!!"

He didn't waste another second. He dragged Janus with him as he began to very quickly walk while continuing to stim.

All Janus could do was stare at their hands. Their palms pressed against each other. His love's thumb brushing up and down his skin. He had never been happier over forgetting his gloves at home.

His cheeks stayed rosy red the entire walk. It was like walking on air. He didn't even realize Remus was still speaking until they got the cinema.

"-And that's why I thought it would have been better if the hamster had died!" He concluded.

".............Fascinating" Janus replied hoping it was a good answer.

"I know right!"

He looked down and realized they were still holding hands. His happy expression instantly dropped as he let go of Janus like he was made of fire.

"Oh fuck buckets! I should have asked if you were okay with like ehhh touch beforehand! Now you're gonna cut my head off!" Remus gasped out.

"Indeed, I do now hate you and I have already hired an assassin to kill you" Janus replied sarcasticly "It's okay, I promise"

Remus let out a breathe of relief in the most cartoon balloon leaking air way possible. "Neat!"

It was 3 pm on a Thursday so there weren't any people in line. Remus didn't even give his friend a chance to pay for his own ticket. He also got a big ass popcorn and a bag of eyeball candies.

He dumped the snacks into the arms of Janus as his eyes caught on a poster on the wall advertising another movie. He jumped up and down while pointing at it, like the excitement was too much to be contained in his body.

"It's my sister! She told me she would be in this one!" The poster didn't show the actresse's face since she had on a cloke to look dark and myserious (tm) "That's her I swear on the last human tooth I have!"

"I believe you. You could be her perfect stunt double"

Remus shoot his arms out "That's what I've been saying too!!! You really are a psychic! Being a stunt double is literally the dream job! I get to pretend to be killed in so many ways! I get to jump off of buildings!! Sadly she mostly does dramas and romances and all that boring stuff"

"Well I for one would love seeing you get stabbed on film" He held his hand over his heart as he said it.

"Omg snakey!! Thank you!! Means a lot!"

He had that wide smile on his lips again. Janus wished he was able to make him smile like that every day.

"Oh the movie is starting soon! Ahhhh exciting! Horror really is the best genre!"

Janus paled "Horror?"

"Yeah! I told you all about the movie on the way here remember? You're okay with horror right?"

"O-Of course! I have watched halloween alien on elm street like 5 times!" He lied.

Remus chuckled "Sure sounds like it"

They went into the screening room. Ads were running on the big screen. They were the only ones there. Remus found their seats right at the back in a corner. He sat down and triumphantly put his feet on the seat in front of him.

"Look at that snakey! We've got the whole room to ourselves! Only...."

His eyes suddenly stopped and shifted to stare out into air. His happy expression slowly disappeared leaving a hollow look on his face. He moved his legs up to his chest and sat completely still.

".....Only us......"

Janus slumped down in the seat next to his. Remus leaned away in his seat so he was further from his friend.

"Indeed. I could poison you and no one would be here to stop me. But I won't...yet" He hoped a joke would make his love lighten up again.

Remus forced a halfhearted smile "Sure that"

The movie started. Janus was already stress eating popcorn from fear by the time the first scene had ended. Which only made him even more stressed over making Remus think he was a fat gluttonous disgusting mess! Which he was! But he didn't want him to know that!!

Whenever he glanced over to Remus he looked just the same, As if the movie was fucking mamma mia or something.

He didn't want to seem unclassy and close his eyes like a 5 year old so he tried to comb his hair in front of his eyes instead. He couldn't stop his racing heartbeat or his unsteady hands though. He didn't do well to loud sounds. Or screaming voices.

He jumped in his chair at an extra gory scare. The popcorn landed all over his body. His cheeks went red enough to be mistaken for a ladybug.

Remus glanced over at him "You don't have to hide that you're scared y'know. The audience reaction is like half the fun"

"Me? Scared? I haven't felt scared since I buried a body in 1967! This is just how I show my appreciation for movies!" He blurted out the lie in a panic.

His love threw his head back as he let out a loud laugh. He couldn't stop as he buried his head in his hands. His shoulders moved in rhytm to his giggles. It seemed to calm his nerves a bit.

"Holy shit snakey that was such a horrible lie! You're such a dork! I say that with affection I promise"

Janus couldn't help but chuckle along "Dork actually means something really dirty. I know since I was practically married to my dictionary when I was youn-"

"WHALE PENIS! I know!! You're the first one who also knows!"

"I suppose that means we're soulmates now" Janus couldn't help but say it.

"Penis soulmates!"

Janus sighed "Yes"

In the movie a man's torso was ripped from his body. Remus flapped his hands. Janus let out a quiet whimper.

"I could infodump a bit if that would make you less scared"

Janus leaned closer to respond but Remus instantly flinched back. He made sure to keep keeping his distance "I would love to hear"

He shone up into a smile. It wasn't quite as carefree and happy as the other ones but it was still his smile and Janus had caused it. It made him feel warm.

He started rambling about the director's other movies and how the themes tied in with this movie. About how the director had studied to be a doctor so he know enough about biology to make all of the gore extra realistic. About how the movie soundtrack's added to the scare even though they were often silly. All while stimming. Sometimes he went quiet to focus on the film while Janus curled in on himself and closed his eyes.

Honestly Janus could have heard him go on for hours but sadly the movie eventually ended. And they eventually got out of the cinema. And eventually the snacks the shared while sitting on a bench outside also ended. And the conversation died out.

It was only around 5 pm but the sky had already started to darken. The streetlamps were getting lit one by one, and a few people were standing in line for the next movie. Janus feared having to say goodbye.

Luckily he didn't have to as Remus quietly asked "Could you like follow me home? The apartement is only 15 minutes and a minor murder spree away"

"Of course!" He replied a bit too excitedly.

He made sure to not walk too close as to not make him flinch again. Remus started to subconsciously hymm on a song after some time of silence. Janus couldn't stop feeling over the moon at the fact that he was hanging out with someone! And he seemed to like him!! And he was in love with him no less!!!

"Snakey I think I gotta admit something kinda dorky-"

"Is it the murder in 1967? We've all been there"

"Actually it was in 1987. Okay but really.....The only friends I've ever really had has been my sister and my ex, and some online friends here and there I guess but we lost contact really quickly. What I mean is that I'm really rusty on this whole friend thing and I'm just glad that you don't get annoyed by my infodumping or stimming or....or the whole me!"

Janus' eyes widened and he slowly let up into a laugh "Oh! Oh I have been so worried for nothing then! I've never had any friends, at all! This was literally the first time I ever went to a movie with another person! We're the same!"

Remus giggled "We really are penis soulmates!"

"I am begging you to not let that become a thing"

"Too late! It already is! We're both friendless dorks you motherfucker!! Of course we're penis soulmates!"

Janus sighed "I am suddenly so glad we are close to your place so I can get away from you.....That was a lie"

Remus lightly punched his shoulder "Better be. Or else I'd have to kidnap you!"

He stopped in front of a series of building of obviously quite glamorous apartements. Janus was honestly starting to wonder if he had a sugar daddy and or sold drugs. Or else he had no idea how he could afford all of this.

They stopped right in front of the entrance. Remus crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. Janus fiddled with his sleeves. Neither of them wanted to say goodbye.

Janus shuly glanced at his love's face. His birtmarks which he so wanted to press kisses to. His fluffy hair he would love to nuzzle into. His full lips which he thought about running his finger over every time he looked at them. He was beautiful. Just beautiful.

"Sooo....I guess I will either see you in hell or in fake therapy next week?" Remus asked.

"For sure"

He awkwardly opened the door "Well I will see you then then!" He did fingerguns "Bye penis soulmate!"

Janus rolled his eyes while waving "Bye.....phallus companion!"

The door closed and he was left in the silence. It took a few second and then

"YES! OH I did it! I survived! Aphrodite would be so proud of me!!"

Janus had to sit down. He was going to explode. He couldn't stop moving his hands around. He was going to pass out. He had never been happier. He deserved a whole soup bowl of ice cream.

He took off his beanie to drag his hand through his hair. He felt breathless from happiness as he stared up at the sky. He had never felt more in love.

He looked at where he imagined you would stand if you had a corporeal body.

"So I suppose your advice worked quite well. It did sound like he wanted to hang out again...So anon....or whatever voice that is in my head that asks me things......Do you have any suggestions on what we should do on our next hangout?"

#remus sanders #sanders sides #janus sanders #dukeceit #demus #ask #its 3 am #im gonna go sleep #mini fic

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adam-dumortains · 4 years ago

Text

Heaven In Hiding - Bryce x MC | Part I

Book/Pairing(s): MC x Bryce

Word Count: Part I - 1196 words (oops)

Rating: 18+ due to swearing and mature scenes in later chapters of the fanfic.

Summary: This fanfic is based on the imagined scene after Bryce asks MC to leave separately in the latest open heart: Third Year Chapter.

Category: Mini series, somewhat angst but also fluff later on!

Warnings / Trope: Swearing, mature scenes

Since there are rumours that Bryce’s chapter this week wasn’t plot related and people are disappointed (including me!) I’m gonna do a small dabble in what I would follow up with that scene and the aftermath of how Bryce was so it makes some sort of sense. I haven’t written in a while as I’ve been super busy so I’m nervous to post this but anyway! Also excuse the gif quality, I like using them to set the scene but it came out a bit blurry. They’ll be posted everyday over the next week. :) Hope you enjoy! ❤️ let me know if you wanna be tagged!

After two years of chasing each other, whispers from friends and stolen moments, Casey Valentine can feel herself falling for Bryce Lahela. Casey is waiting for Bryce to tell her how he feels but after an intimate escape to the garden roof, Casey realises what and who she wants most in the world may hurt her more than anything else.

Song: Strange Love - Halsey | Everybody wants to know about how it felt to hear you scream. They know you walk like you're a god, they can't believe I made you weak. We wrote a story in the fog on the windows that night but the ending is the same every damn time.

Casey felt as though there was a lump in her throat and had that awful sinking feeling in her stomach when the words, “we wouldn’t want anyone to see us would we?” left Bryce’s lips. They had been certainly more than friends for the past two years of their residency. Casey knew the moment she saw Bryce and his stupid smirk that she wouldn’t be able to resist him. His confidence and the way he was able to make her pulse race with just his words was intoxicating. But ever since she had been let into his life a little, meeting his sister and listening to him vent about his parents, she realised that Bryce often used his confidence as a shield to hide his vulnerability. Which only made her fall for him even more. After the events that took place at the hospital where she almost died, she really thought that she could be in love with Bryce Lahela. She was falling in love with the surgeon with the best hands and the sexiest smirk. She wondered if Bryce had felt the same, but knowing that he had some walls up, she thought it would be best to let Bryce express his feelings when he was ready. She was sure he would, soon enough.

That all changed the moments those words left his lips. Casey stared at him, her eyes searching for something. She wasn’t sure what, a look of love? Affection? Something. Anything. But Bryce was stiff. He looked at her, a look in his eyes that she had never seen before and couldn’t quite work out. It was like the Bryce she knew and cared for wasn’t in the room. Like the man in front of her was a shell.

“Uh, I’ll go first.” Bryce awkwardly blurted out, rubbing the back of his neck. Casey scoffed.

“No. It’s fine. I’ll go.” Casey shook her head and pushed herself past Bryce, slamming the door on her way out.

—

Bryce knew he had fucked up. He groaned, his first meeting the wall slightly as he punched it in frustration. His breathing was heavy, and his eyes were closed as he tried to calm himself down. ‘You’re a fucking dumbass’ he thought to himself. After a few moments of cursing under his breath, he straightened his jacket and walked out of the garden roof.

—

Casey had already gotten back to the party, but she wasn’t in the party mood anymore. She was terrified that she would burst into tears in front of everyone. She sighed as she went to the drinks table, pulling herself a large glass of champagne and downing it in one go. Her thoughts were racing in anger, frustration and slight heartbreak. Get a grip of yourself, Casey. You knew Bryce always had a bit of a reputation and every goddamn nurse in this hospital flirts with him. Why would he stick to just you? Breathe.

Jackie walked over to Casey, laughing at the fact the glass in Casey’s hand had lasted a mere 5 seconds before being downed.

“Well, if this is what you’re going to do to get this party started, then I’m all in.” Jackie joked, clinking her glass with Casey’s. Her laugh faltered when she saw Casey’s weak smile in reply to her joking.

“Wait, what’s wrong?” Jackie raised her brow at Casey.

“Nothing. I’m just not feeling too good.” Jackie knew she was lying. Casey’s eyes trailed behind Jackie, landing on Bryce who was looking around the room. Their eyes met and Casey couldn’t help but tear her eyes away from him.

“Would it have anything to do with the fact you and Bryce were both gone for the last 45 minutes?”

“I can’t do this. I’m going home.”

“Whoa wait, let me come with you.”

“Nah, honestly, I need some time alone. And anyway, who’s gonna force Elijah and Aurora to do shots if you’re not here?” Casey laughed weakly, putting her bag over her shoulders. “I’ll text you when I’m home. Ok?” Jackie nodded, pulling Casey into a hug.

Casey hastily walked out of the hospital, the cold air hitting her as she walked home. The cold, fresh air was welcoming. It made her feel calmer than she had felt in the hospital. She just wanted to go home, curl up into her bed and cry it out. She’d be fine by tomorrow. At least, that’s what she hoped. Wishful thinking.

When Casey had finally gotten home, she slid her dress off and threw on her dressing gown, grabbing a bottle of wine out of the fridge to pour herself a glass. She sat at the kitchen island, staring out at the world beneath her from the penthouse window. She thought about the people going about her lives, which made her think of her residency. She knew it was coming to an end this year, something she has been in denial about for quite some time. She didn’t want to leave her friends... or Bryce behind. She always thought that maybe her place on the diagnostics team may help her stay close to home. Close to Bryce. As Bryce popped into her mind, she sighed gently and put her head in her hands. ‘How unfair is it that the only person you ever want to talk to when something goes wrong, is the one person who hurt you so you can’t go to them?’ Casey thought to herself. When something went wrong in the hospital, Bryce was the first person she’d text or find. When something went wrong outside the hospital, all it took was for Casey to text Bryce a “🖕” emoji for Bryce to know she needed to vent. He always replied within minutes. Even if it was to tell her he couldn’t reply but would as soon as he could.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. ‘That’ll be Sienna’ Casey thought, laughing to herself as she prepared to deal with a very drunk and Disney singing Sienna. She opened the door, and her breath hitched when she looked up.

Bryce was stood at the door, his hair a mess as if he had been running his hands through his hair, a look of regret on his face.

“W-what are you doing here Bryce? I don’t want to talk to you.” Casey mentally cursed herself at her voice cracking.

“Case, please.” Casey scanned his face. He was the only one that ever called her Case. Casey wasn’t sure whether she even liked that nickname, but coming from Bryce, she loved anything that came from his lips. Especially something that was unique between them like her nickname. She could have sworn her heart fluttered when she sent Bryce a funny hospital meme whilst being sat next to him, and whilst waiting for him to see it, realised the name for her in his phone had changed from “Casey Valentine” to “Case”.

As much as she was angry and hurt by him tonight, she couldn’t let him go. She couldn’t bear to see the pain on his face. She opened the door slightly and stepped aside, giving him permission to come inside.

#choices #pixelberry #open heart #open heart third year #Bryce lahela #Bryce x mc #mc x Bryce #Bryce lahela x mc #mc x Bryce lahela #Bryce open heart #open heart Bryce #Bryce lahela fanfic #Bryce lahela fan fiction #choices fic writers creations #choices fics of the week #fics of the week

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jadedragoness · 4 years ago

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Battle Ground 1st Read Through Reaction

Can I just start off by saying, Holy crap. Chicago got curb-stomped hard. So freaking hard.

I really, really, enjoyed the story. I pretty much didn’t want to stop reading as soon as I cracked open the covers of the book but I did have to have periods of giving myself a break and just put the book down and go do something sensible like do the dishes instead of screaming or shaking my fists at the sky like a lunatic.

I do admit that as a story the continuous battle was draining and exhausting to read. But I think that was the point so I don’t really count it against the story. It is something important to know going in, and why I’d recommend breaks.

Let’s talk spoilers… just assume spoilers for everything Dresden Files related too. Ummm, also this runs long.

First Let’s Me Tell You About the Thing Which Exploded My Brain:

1. MARCONE IS FREAKING KNIGHT OF THE BLACKENED DENARIUS! WHHHAAAAT!!

...okay, I’m done screaming about it.

OF FREAKING THORNED NAMSHIEL!!! ...I lied, I wasn’t done. How long? What? When? I didn’t see this coming at all! And I’m so freaking torn about how to feel about it.

I am so damned (heh) relieved that Marcone’s didn’t die at Ethniu’s hands. I seriously freaked at the moment she snapped his neck that I went into instant denial and my eyes skipped several paragraph down out of the desperate wish to see if it was trick. I’m also very, very delighted that Marcone is now so much harder to kill. I mean, he was already pretty hard to kill being Marcone but this just takes it up to eleven.

On the other hand, a Fallen Angel is so freaking dangerous. *makes gargling worried noises* And while it looks like Marcone appears to have worked out a partnership with the coin I can’t help but remember that when we were first introduced to this Fallen he was called ‘Thorned Namshiel’ and not by the name of his bearer. So he appears to be the type to subsume the human who holds him. Which makes me worried that Marcone could be on that path and not even realize it. *goes back to making gargling worried noises*

I do find reassuring that the coin is on a chain around his neck and therefore easily removed and not buried in his body like some of the other Denarians will do.

However, I am feeling a little disappointed Marcone is no longer purely a ‘vanilla’ mortal who stood toe-to-toe eldritch beings and survived by simply being smarter, deadlier and amazeballs. I’ll miss that. I always thought that it was especially hilarious how much Harry would freak out about Marcone and how deadly Marcone is when even in the same room as scary monsters (like in ;Skin Game;, I mean seriously he was in the same room as Nicodemus and Harry was hardcore worried about upsetting Marcone… hilarious!) when Marcone was a vanilla mortal… but now he’s not.

And yet, now Marcone knows how to sling around magic and is incredibly hard to kill. *thumbs up at Jim Butcher* Yeeeessssss! *is so happy*

Although… if Harry doesn’t end up making all manner of ‘thorny’ jokes at Marcone I’m going to be very disappointed. =D

Things I Sorta Expected:

1. Murphy dying.

Now, I totally bawled at the scene after Rudolph shot Murphy. I especially lost it when Harry kept referring to her body as an ‘empty house.’ ARGH. But I wasn’t actually surprised that she died. I did feel like I got a very strong sense it was going to happen. Actually, from how often Harry’s thoughts seemed to be pinging in that direction I was partially convinced his wizardly ‘insight’ was kicking in and trying to warn him.

And he tried. He really did.

But ultimately it was Karrin’s own choice to be away from safety and be her badass self.

2. Hendricks’ dying.

I’ve actually have read the short story ‘Monsters’ from Goodman Grey’s POV and I’ve read it a little over a week ago and in it he notes Marcone’s bodyguard as a dumb Einherjaren. Which made my brain go: Whoa, wait… where’s Hendricks? Is Hendricks dead? Did Hendricks die and become in Einherjaren? Or is he off doing something and one of those guys is taking over for a bit? Fuck, Hendricks is dying in ‘Battle Ground’ isn’t he?

So I wasn’t exactly surprised, but I was still very, very upset. And when Ethniu picked up Hendrick’s corpse and smashed him into Marcone that’s where I lost it. Like totally lost it while also being worried about Marcone at the same time. Gah.

Curveballs I Did Not Expect:

1. Marva and Drakul. The deaths of Wild Bill and Yoshimo at the hands of Black Court vampires and the threat that we may see them again as Black Court? Did not see that coming. I expected to lose Wardens but not like that.

...and I may be in denial about Chandler (I like the guy, okay) being dead. Please. He’s a wizard. He’ll be back. Of course as soon as I wrote that I was instantly struck of by the thought of: “Yeah, but will you like what you get back?”

2. Also Drakul is a starborn? I get more and more curious about what it means! I’m with Harry in frothing in frustration over how people won’t tell him already! *screams into the void*

Also Kincaid worked for this guy? *shudders*

3. Marcone and Thorned Namshiel. *gurgles*

4. Justine had Nemesis in her! And for years?!

How in the hell are they going to save her? Mab barely saved Lea and she’s Mab!

Also I thought Nemesis was very infectious. Is there anyone else around who has been infected? Maybe among Harry’s friends with Justine as the vector? *is worried*

5. Not getting a resolution on the situation with the Svartalves. Or did I miss something? Seriously, the ending of the book felt like it was missing about 30 more pages to wrap up and work a bit more on characters.

Things I Did Not Like or Was Disappointed By:

1. Rudolph getting to live. Fuck that guy.

Okay, I understand that his not getting murdered at Harry’s hands wasn’t really for Rudolph’s sake but for Harry’s own soul. I just want him dead. Dammit, is it too much to ask for him to have been shot by a turtleneck or stomped by a Jotun or splattered by Formor acid that slowly ate away at his guts as screamed until his internal organs slowly dissolved?

I have may have a bloodthirsty vengeful streak. And yet: want.

2. I also may have narrowed my eyes at the end of the book there after Harry said that Marcone was dropping off the keys and then it turned out Lara had picked them up instead. I may have also said aloud, “Butcher, are you Marcone-blocking me?” And he was, dammit, because I didn’t get to read more Marcone.

… I do not have a Marcone-addiction.

3. This is more disappointment than dislike but I didn’t get nearly as much Goodman Grey as I thought I’d get. Aw.

4. Harry not getting to talk to Ivy. *grumbles*

Things I Really Liked/Loved

1. Harry got his home back! And it’s the castle! The castle he all but swindled out of Marcone. Yes, I love it! I love Marcone but doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it when Harry get the best of him too. Anyway, I just love the fact that Harry is claiming parts of his life back from the traumatic heart-stomp events which occurred in ‘Changes’. *bounces in excitement* Now he just needs an office!

2. Marcone. Always. Actually I was a little afraid when he vanished after the battle started that there would be very little Marcone in this book too because Butcher is so Marcone-stingy.

3. That Harry is no longer a member of the White Council. I mean, they’ve been pretty useless to helping Harry out. And honestly, Harry has gotten so many headaches from them that I can’t help but think this is a weight he needed to shed.

Although, it really feeds my ‘Harry needs to become a member of the accords in his own right’ thing again. Seriously, he’s the Warden of Demonreach. He bound a Titan. It needs to happen. Ooh, or the Paranet can see about becoming an Accorded organization in their own right and then Harry can be with them. Yeeeessss.

4. Bob is back in Harry’s hands! Freaking yes! Whoohooo! About time! Oooh, wait, has Bob meet Bonnie? Can we read this happening? OMG, I want it so much… or would Harry be too horrified to let Bob influence his spirit-kid? LoL.

5. Seeing Toot-toot and Lacuna again! And when Harry pulled his ‘Za Lord’ maneuver and got the Guard and a ton of other fairies to help in the defense of… well, pizza in Chicago, that was great I punched the air.

The I gloated even more over how Mab then explained Harry had scared some of the others with that move. Heh.

6. River Shoulders was so damn badass and amazeballs and like Wild Bill said, I’ll take two.

7. Michael and Charity already knowing that Molly is the Winter Lady and being the best parents and loving and accepting and… so much love for those two.

EVERYTHING MARCONE… yes, he’s getting his own heading

1. Gah, I love him. I have mentioned this before. That one of the first things he says to Harry when Harry is staring at him as he changes clothes is to paraphrase ‘did you forget how to get dressed or is this an awkward sexual reconnaissance’ nearly killed me. I was caught between giggling and choking on my own spit and then I nearly fell off the couch. Just remembering about it now, has me giggling at the computer screen.

2. Also, I find that ‘Excellent’ response from Marcone after they exchange threats to be fascinating. This was one of those points were I put the book down and wondered what Marcone meant by that. Then I had the thought that maybe in his own fashion, Marcone was doing the same thing that practically everyone had been doing with Harry since he got back from being shot. He was checking to see if Harry was still the same man he’d been before. And from Harry’s response, Yup. He was. So: “Excellent.”

Having also read ‘Skin Game‘ and how cold Marcone is in the end there? The difference with this Marcone versus the one where Mab was listening? I find that interesting too!

3. When Marcone showed up to the fight! So freaking badass! Love how he led the fighters.

Also I find it significant that both of the guys who are obsessed with protecting Chicago were the ones who manifested ‘banners’ which drew humans to the fight.

Really cool. And it reminds me all over again that for all their different life philosophies Marcone and Dresden do agree on the mantra of: Protect Chicago.

4. This book, especially the lake beach scene reminded me so hard why I love the banter between Harry and Marcone so much. When it just seems to be the two of them and they aren’t actively threatening each they have such a great rapport! Loved reading it! Wished we got more of it in the books.

5. Okay, with Hendricks’ death I’m rather worried for Marcone. ‘Even Hand’ gave the impression Hendricks often acted as a very gentle conscience to Marcone. Losing him has got to be hitting Marcone hard. And that I now know he only has a Fallen angel on his shoulder?

Yup, growing more worried for Marcone at the time.

6. I’m also wondering about what was said in that exchange between Mab and Marcone on the roof when Harry called out Marcone for about being the Lord of Chicago needing to be more than talk. Okay, I can guess. I just really, really want to hear the words because I bet Marcone was badass.

7. The Lord of Chicago giving Harry the title of the Wizard of Chicago? Freaking loved it.

8. Also Marcone freaking purred. Purred. “Prove it,” he purred. “Hero.”

I think Jim Butcher is trying to give me a heart attack or cause me to crack my skull on floor because I nearly fell off the couch again.

9. With Marcone now outed as a magic-wielding Denarian does that mean we get more of him in the future books? Because I freaking hope so... I say this even knowing I’d have the exact same wish even without him being a magic-wielding Denarian.

Things I Found Completely Hilarious

1. Marcone’s opening lines to Harry. Heh. Forever Lol!

2. Is Lacuna a tooth fairy? Her obsession with teeth cracked me up so much.

3. That Mab smacking both Lara and Harry with those wedding plans. *snickers* I mean, I find it totally hilarious because of how gobsmacked both of them were about it. I don’t expect Harry to go through with it at all, not with how we know how seriously he takes relationships. So either he’s going to get out of being the Winter Knight or find some other way to defy Mab. Or hell, maybe Lara gets them both out of it by marrying someone else first. Honestly, I can’t see her agreeing to marry someone who’d burn her with a touch.

Pure Speculation or Things that Just Excite Me for the Future:

1. Now I bet you’re all wondering why I’m not more upset about Murphy or Hendricks dying. Simply put, I’m 100% convinced that when both Murphy and Hendricks wake up in Valhalla, in drinking (with quaffing I bet) halls full of grunting, fighting obsessed Vikings and they will go ‘Nope, I’m out!’ three seconds later. Those two? Especially knowing how much trouble Harry and Marcone have got to be getting up to without them? They’d probably join forces and stage a breakout to get back.

This is what occurred to me the moment Gard explained what happened to their bodies. The whole not come back until everyone who knew them was gone, yeah, right. Not happening.

Or, jeeze, I can’t image Marcone not thinking this was a possibility and then not having made plans to bust Hendricks out and you know Murphy would demand to come along too. And with Thorned Namshiel providing help? I can see this happening.

...okay, this idea sneaked into my head but now I’m seeing Murphy (having busted out of Valhalla with a bunch of Einherjaren) and learning about the upcoming nuptials between Lara and Harry leads a raiding party (what else, with Vikings!) to bride nap (groom nap?) Harry away before he says “I do.“ Heh. This would be hilarious.

2. I’m sorta vibrating with the possibilities of what the future will bring with a Chicago that is waking up to the dangers of the supernatural while at the same time having learned that it is possible to stand up to monsters and kill them. Especially, what this means when bad things go down in Chicago again, because of course they will. And there may be more people joining in the fight.

Hmm, can the Paranet be deployed as a means of bringing vanilla mortals in or educating them so they don’t go after the good guys? They do sort of stand in the middle, more so than Harry. *lost in thoughts*

3. While I’m actually a little surprised that Ebenezar made it out alive as I actually had him down on my ‘Will Probably Die List’. I was relieved as I hope to see him and Harry actually have that conversation which Harry wants. Seriously, if only for Maggie’s sake, who shouldn’t have her first and last memory of her Great-Grandpa be him being a total jerk.

4. Harry can bind the prisoners of Demonreach to do his bidding? *blinks* Ooh, the possibilities.

5. These Librarians, the Men in Black of the DF ‘verse, sound amazing and I can’t wait to see them show up.

#the dresden files #battle ground #Harry Dresden #harry blackstone copperfield Dresden #The Curbstomp of Chicago #spoilers #battle ground spoilers #dresden files spoilers #karrin Murphy #mab #review/reaction #formor war #formor #river shoulders #nathan hendricks #john marcone #gentleman john marcone #book spoilers

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laufire · 4 years ago

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Supernatural s2

I’m halfway through s3 already (technically a rewatch, but there were episodes I didn’t watch the first time around), so this post is a little overdue lol. At this rhythim the posts will overlap. Plus I’m hoping I can finish s4-5 during the holidays to see the ~intended ending~ before I have to slow down on the binge-watch. After that, a season a month sounds achievable AND won’t take longer than 2021 xD

ANYWAY.

-Overall, I’ve enjoyed it more than the first one, but at the same time I’ve found myself missing how... claustrophobic? Insular? Compact? That one was. s2 was about the world opening up just a little bit more, introducing new characters to the brothers’ life, etc. I do love the detail that this is something that can only have, narratively speaking, once John is dead. Again: this show gets abusive families, consciously or not.

-The foreshadowing is beautifully done. 15 seasons make for a lot of unintentional and ironic foreshadowing later on, I’m sure, but the purposeful foreshadowing is superb this season. About the crossroads deals, of course, but especially about John’s last words. I already knew he’d told Dean he might have to kill Sam (father of the year, seriously. Though I side-eye the fandom even more for always having acted as if this is only awful for Dean lol), so I was hyperaware of every single detail. My favourite moment was the absolute horror of hearing Gordon proudly, cheerfully relate how he murdered his sister when she became a vampire (which, btw, as someone that’s still bitter about what went down with the Gunn siblings on Angel, I found it healing to see something like that treated as a horror story).

-Speaking of Gordon: I unashamedly love his character lmfao. Sterling K. Brown is mesmerizing, always. At the same time, I have serious mixed feelings (especially after seeing his arc in full in s3) because man, if it isn’t a racist mess. I’ve mentioned this before, but it’s not exactly revolutionary that the first time we see the story from the monster’s POV (something I want the show to do! Often!), it’s when white monsters are stalked and brutalized by our first black hunter. Especifically a white woman, btw (although I’m happy to see Tara Maclay as a brunette vampire. I didn’t know I needed that in my life, but I did). And you can tell that the show thinks it’s just so SMART and FUNNY to have a ~racist black hunter!! I mean, the comment about how psychic kids would be “betraying their race” if they allied with demons?? FFS.

And ofc there’s the fact that he’s condemned for the exact same type of stuff that makes Dean be hailed as a hero lmfao. Though I won’t like, I love the moment where, faced with the comparison, Dean’s response is “I might be like you, I might not. But you’re the one tied up.” I love those kinds of character moments. As of s2 I officially have a love-hate relationship with Dean Winchester, I hate it here xDD

But still, on his own, Gordon is an amazing character (it’s one of the most frustrating things about the show, the greatness tainted by the bigotry :))). Charismatic, terrifying, and ofc superbly acted. Also, I love that the fact that he praised John (as opposed to every other hunter having a rockier relationship with him) is clearly supposed to be a red flag LMFAO.

-I enjoy how the seasons delves more deeply into Sam’s ~~dark origins, since it was my fave thing about him way back when. I’m already mourning the (as I suspect) lost of his powers, ngl. There’s a little more attention in how he tends to over-identify with supernatural creatures struggling with their ~dark sides too (bitch me too, the fuck xD), which I LOVE to see (among other reasons because at least in that way we get a little of their POV in the forefront lol). One of my favourites in that sense was the episode centered around the ghost-who-didn’t-know-she-was-ghost, played by Tricia Helfer. I clocked early one what was going on, but it was still very enjoyable, especially with Sam’s empathy with her (contrasted by Dean being a total bitch about it, btw. I can’t believe I still see post about how Dean is all heart/kindness/compassion/whatever the fuck. Dean is all about selective empathy and only when it conveniences him, pls).

I was more divided on the episode with Madison the werewolf, tbh. OTOH it put Sam in a better position, for a change xD. As the one willing to make The Hard Choices by fulfilling his promise to kill her because she was dangerous, even when Dean offered to ~take the burden from him. OTOH I hate that kind of thing lol. YOU GUYS KNOW A HUNTER PRO LIKE BOBBY, I BET HE COULD’VE FIGURED OUT SOMETHING TO CONTAIN HER A FEW NIGHTS A MONTH. Also, my immediate reaction was to compare this to when my man Angel had a crush on a werelady and helped her every month lmfao. But then, very few characters can withstand a comparison with Angel, in any sense :P

I also liked Sam’s subplot with his fellow demon-psychic kids, though I wish it’d lasted longer :/ (also: RME at the queer girl dying almost immediately AND her power being killing people, her girlfriend first of all, with her touch. The black guy was the last one to die at least...?). My fave was Ava, by far. I loved her since her reaction to helping Sam stealing a psychiatrist’s records was yelling “I’M AWESOME!!”. It made it easy to buy that someone that appeared so mundane, with her easy life and her fiance and whatnot, would become so power hungry and go off the rails, IMO.

BTW: RME at Dean being all “oh Sam is going too dark/becoming to cold” when Sam kills Jake. Jake ripped off his spine and killed him first!! It both amuses me and infuriates me all the times Dean tries to push Sam to be more like himself and then freaks out whenever Sam is not all sunshine and rainbows (while still remaining, IMO, far less cold than Dean himself. Besides, it’s not easy to be colder than Dean, lol).

Lastly, a little character detail I loved was when Sam was jealous about Dean being in the federal database but not himself lmfao.

-I loved the new foreshadowing crumb with Sam finding out Mary knew the demon, too (information he’ll withhold from Dean, which I approve of LOL). I mean, I know exactly what’s up, I’ve watched most of s4 xD (also, what is UP with this family and making deals with demons. Everyone but Sam so far!! And then HE gets dragged for ~getting too close to one smh. Maybe lead by example!! Also also: yes, it was meant to be ambiguous, but I can’t help but notice the only kiss-pact -or further, depending to how close YED was to Lilith’s levels, since to make a deal with her you have to fuck xD- we didn’t see was the one that must’ve happened between John and YED. Cowards!! xD). Still. I’m so curious about her. Her resurrection is one of the main reasons I’m determined to make it to the later seasons, ngl.

-Another thing I LOVED about this season is how they used sibling relationships to parallel/foreshadow stuff about the brothers, the way s1 did often with fathers. I’ve already mentioned Gordon and his sister, but the others are not less brutal imo: Andy having to kill his evil twin, who wanted him all for himself (... Dean is that you xD); the little girl’s ghost who wanted her grand-niece to commit suicide to stay with her, and didn’t give in until her old sister agreed to die in her place. It was chilling. Also, at one point the parallel was between the brothers and a married couple (the ghost-who-didn’t-know-she-was-a-ghost) and asñdlfkajsf. I’m guessing they had fun with the shippers lol.

Speaking of the brothers’ relationship, this season also goes a little further in escalating the violence between them, when Dean punches Sam in the face and he refuses to respond (“you can hit me all you want, it won’t change anything”. Fuck), or when Dean again punches Sam after Sam was possessed by Meg ¬¬

-Going back to my love-hate relationship with Dean, lmfao. My biggest beef remains how much validation his POV gets from the narrative, granted or not; he’s one of the most irritating cases of protagonist-centered morality and I know it’s only going to get worse smh. At least this season it feels a little more balanced than in s1, with episodes like the one where the civilian Sam had tried to keep away dies halfway through the ep because Dean allowed him to get involved, for example. Still, it grates on me xD. The continuing prison rape jokes/demonic possession rape jokes (with Meg and Sam), his general grossness with women and his lack of sympathy for non-humans even when they’re not trying to hurt anyone don’t exactly help. Also, I often see him praised for some of his political views, a lot of which I agree with (his mistrust of cops, saying convicts don’t deserve to die no matter what they do), but when contrasted with his general attitude across the show it’s really grating ngl.

But then he has such AMAZING character details thrown in, that make me appreciate him as a POV character nonetheless, as much as I often want to curb stomp the guy xD. I loved his speech about how there’s no such thing as a dignified death. I love how he refused to come near his mother’s grave, both at the beginning and at the end of the episode (this show is like, the cure to DCCW’s shows false fuzzy sentimentality istg). I love his pop-culture references, like when Sam mentions Dean always thought OJ was the murderer or Dean jokes about freeing Katie Holmes from Scientology’s cult xD (sometimes it really hits you how old this show is lol). I enjoyed his Wishverse episode, and his lines after Sam dies/he sells his soul to save him (“I had one job”, “my life can mean something”) hit HARD.

But most of all? I LOVE how and why he starts losing respect for John. It’s so fucking cold and abrupt and makes so much sense!! Like, yes, part of it is John’s message about killing Sam (... again, father of the year!), but most of all it’s about John making a pact with a demon and dying TO SAVE DEAN (and probably, simply that he died at all. That shit de-mystifies anyone). IT’S SO FUCKING GREAT TO WATCH. “He spent his life chasing that demon. He was supposed to die fighting, not making a deal with the damn thing. That was supposed to be his legacy, not this." Damn, Dean xDD. The *contempt* with which he said that killed me.

I also love his inherently atheist vision of the world (even if yes, it’s extremely funny knowing this show has canon God and angels and shit -no Jesus Christ though, which I find endlessly funny-, or that they actually meet the archangel Gabriel in disguise xD. Either way, the episode with the fake angel and its foreshadowing was hilarious), his anti-destiny stance, and that it’s him and not John who gets to kill YED.

-I liked Ellen and Jo. Not LOVED, but I liked them. I keep fearing that secondary (especially female) characters will feel empty/shallow but the show keeps proving me wrong, even with one-episode wonders, and at first I wasn’t sure about them, but I was sold quickly. Partially because of the actresses, they both had this... humanizing, endearing quality? It worked really well. I also loved the explicit contrast between John and Ellen’s parenting styles, with Ellen wanting Jo to return to school and be safe from the hunt, and Jo wanting something different. Also, I wouldn’t ship it if you paid me, but LOL at anyone who actually buys Dean sees Jo as a ~little sister just because MEG said that rme.

This show is just REALLY good when it comes to giving depth to a character with only a couple of brush strokes, which makes it all the more frustrating when they abruptly die or disappear to never be seen again/only once more (to abruptly die!) :)))

I was less sold on Ash; he was amusing, but having a Genius Hacker TM helping them out seemed like the beginning of increasingly giving the brothers ways of deux ex machina-ing them out of problems, when one of my favourite things about the show is seeing them creatively find ways out themselves. I like when they’re competent! Like with the multitude of codes they have to improvise plans, like in the episode where with two words through a lawyer they implemented a quick scheme so that Sam would escape from a police precinct. I like that stuff.

-I’m still so bitterly jealous about the dead man’s blood hurting vampires detail. SO BITTERLY JEALOUS. I love a lot of what this show does with its lore but that little bit is the worst offender. I want it so bad xD

#talking to the void #my thoughts #spn thoughts #supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #gordon walker #ellen harvelle #jo harvelle #spn s2 #the winchesters get to have a tag I GUESS

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skullrock · 5 years ago

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the partners, chapter two - Steve x Reader

chapter two: there is a light that never goes out

series summary: you and Steve are police apprentices at Hawkins Police Station in the fall of 1986. you get along famously, but there’s something Steve is hiding, and there is an unknown evil lurking in Hawkins. [friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff]

chapter summary: You and Steve grow closer; you and Steve are called in to investigate a death

warnings: swearing, panic attacks, mention of death

word count: 3.3k

a/n: things are heating up boys!! next chapter will really kick off the cop stuff. if you haven’t seen it, here’s the Spotify playlist that goes with the series, and you can catch up here. enjoy!

---------

The rest of the week rolls by without many incidents. By the time Friday comes, you’re beaming with excitement.

“We’re still on, right?” You ask him Friday morning, bouncing on your toes.

“Y/N, for the fifteenth time, yes,” he laughs. “I’m not bailing.”

He kind of wishes he could – he hasn’t been able to sleep. He can’t stop worrying. What if this is a mistake? What if you get hurt? What if this all backfires? He can’t let you know this, though, and he’s been grinning through the week.

“Great, do you know where I live?”

“Three streets away from me, Oak Street, the big white house.”

You tilt your head. “How did you—”

“You’re the only person in town with a Walter Mondale sticker on their bumper,” he replies. “I saw your car in your driveway.”

Steve had moved out of his parent’s house about one week after securing the position at the station. His parents had graciously gotten him an “apartment,” which was in fact a nice house in a good spot in town. They paid his rent as a form of gratitude that he was “getting his life together”. He hated that idea, truly, but was happy to be able to live on his own, only worrying about groceries. He was a lot happier now that he was on his own – specifically that he was not living with his father. He did see his mother though, and pretty often, because she would bring him a lunch every few days.

“Creep,” you say, smiling. “Then I’ll see you tonight.”

“Y/N, we have an eight hour shift ahead of us.”

“Whatever. I’ll see you all day and then tonight.”

---------

Steve pulls up around 6:30, and he’s sweating bullets. He honks once, then waits. He finds himself checking himself out in the rearview mirror, and then quickly jerks his head away. It must be some kind of knee-jerk reaction, Steve thinks, picking up a girl feels like a date.

You come out of your house and lock the door, then bolt down the steps to his car. He can feel the energy radiating off of you.

“Hi,” you say as you slip inside.

“You look nice when you’re not wearing a uniform,” he jokes.

“Funny. I was going to say the same about you.” You buckle up and he sets off for Mike’s house.

“Now that you’re hanging out with my friends, am I going to hang out with yours?” he asks.

You deflate slightly. “Well, that’s the thing,” you say quietly, examining your nails. “I um. I don’t really… have any?”

He looks over at you, forehead creasing at your body language. “You don’t have any friends? That’s gotta be bullshit.”

“I did,” you explain. “But then I went to college and I lost touch with people from high school. And then I came back and I lost touch with people from college. So, I really don’t…” you sigh heavily. “Hang out with people.”

He swallows hard. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. If I knew –“

“It’s okay,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “It’s not your fault or anything. It doesn’t matter now, anyway.” You smile and lightly punch his arm. “Since I managed to crawl into your life.”

“Well, you’ll really like the kids,” he says. “Let me give you the rundown.”

He begins to explain all six of them. Dustin Henderson, his best friend, has a bit of a lisp and some disease that “makes him like Gumbo? Gumby? Whatever.” Mike Wheeler, party leader, bit of a drama queen, loyal friend. Lucas Sinclair, funny one of the bunch, dating Max, the redhead, is emotionally mature despite his comedic exterior. Max Mayfield, redhead extraordinaire, metaphorically adopted sister of Steve, super intelligent and strong. Will Byers, “you already know him,” kind and quiet, has been through a lot, deserves the world. Then there’s El.

“El is… different.”

“How?”

“Well…,” he sighs. “She… comes from a bad home. She was… she comes from a bad home. They did bad things to her.”

“Oh.”

“But she’s really great. I’m trying to teach her how to read before she and Will go back to Maine for school. She’s dating Mike, they get along pretty well. She’s really smart, just behind since she never got to go to school.”

You nod. “They all sound like phenomenal kids.”

“They are,” he replies thoughtfully. “Sometimes they’re a pain in the ass, but they’re my pain in the ass.”

You pull into the same large house on Maple Street that you had a few days before and hop out. You’re feeling a bit antsy – so is Steve.

“Wait,” you say. “Doesn’t Nancy live here?”

“Oh.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, but we’re cool. We still talk to each other. And she’s probably out with Jonathan anyway.” He clears his throat, and you reach out and squeeze his arm. “I’m okay,” he laughs. “Come on, let’s go.”

The kids remember you from the other day, and your friendship with Steve helps convince them that you’re a good person. You get along together immediately, laughing and joking like you’re all old friends. Steve beams and Dustin nudges him, making Steve shove him.

“We’re watching The Goonies tonight,” Lucas says, producing the VHS.

“What’s a goonie?” El asks.

“It’s like, a silly person,” Steve explains. “Like Mike.”

Mike rolls his eyes. “We can’t start yet, Robin isn’t here.”

You nearly choke on the soda you were drinking. “Robin? Robin Buckley?”

As if on cue, the door to the basement opens and Robin comes down. You jump up and shout her name. She looks at you, confused for a brief moment, then smiles widely and bounds over to you.

“Oh my God!” you both shout as you embrace. You try to ask each other questions, but they all come out at the same time, making you both laugh.

“Are you going to tell us how you both know each other?” Steve asks, brows drawn together, but smiling, nonetheless.

“We were in band together!” Robin exclaims. “I thought you died or something, you never called!”

“I lost your number when I moved to Indianapolis,” you explain, squeezing her hand. “But I’m back now. I’ve been back for a few months. I work with Steve, at the station.”

Robin snaps her head over to him and glares, making him sink in his seat.

“None of us knew,” Max pipes up. “That Steve works with someone, I mean.”

Robin closes her eyes and shakes her head. She looks back at Steve with a we need to talk kind of look, then turns back to you. “Well, you’re here now, and that’s what matters.”

As the night goes on, you grow more and more comfortable with everyone. You sit and talk to Robin while the rest of the gang plays Monopoly. You could mirror the movie to how the kids act – it’s like they are the Goonies. You watch as they all bicker, Max shoving Lucas over stupid jokes, and El grabbing onto Mike, leaning into him. You watch as Will and Dustin barter with each other, and as Steve calls them all out for “cheating,” which is code for “I really suck at this game and need to explain why I’m losing.”

Your eyes focus on Steve while he explains something to El. It makes your chest swell. It feels like the only thing you can focus on his Steve. How bright his eyes are while talking to his friends, how his brows flit together then part as he laughs. And his laugh. It’s the only thing you can hear, and the sound rings in your ears. He looks up at you and smiles, then goes back to looking at the game board. You snap out of your trance.

“Oh, ew.” It’s supposed to be said in your head, but you say it out loud.

“What?” Robin asks. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah!” you say after a moment. “Yeah, sorry. I just got a little, uh, sidetracked. So, um, are you planning on going to school anywhere?”

Soon enough, it’s one in the morning, and the kids are getting tired. You are, too, and you yawn loudly.

“Let’s go, sleepyhead,” Steve says, holding out his hands to help you off the couch. You take them, swallowing the electricity in your stomach.

“You should come by more often!” Dustin grins.

“Yeah, we need more girls around,” Max says, and you smile back at her.

“You’re welcome in the party anytime,” Mike declares, and the others agree.

You could almost cry at how nice they are. “You guys will never know how… how much…” you sniffle. “How much this night has meant for me.”

“Okay, okay,” Steve says, rubbing your back. “Time to go, buddy.”

“You guys are the best!” you say through tears, and Steve shushes you gently, guiding you upstairs.

“Steve!” Dustin shouts, and bounds up behind him. Steve rolls his eyes and tells you to head out to the car.

“You better bring her around again.” Dustin squeezes his arm and Steve rolls his eyes once more.

“We mean it!” Will says. “She’s cool.”

“You guys don’t even like me this much,” Steve huffs, to which Robin replies, “Yes, because you’re a dingus. Y/N is cool.”

“Goodnight!” Steve groans, continuing upstairs.

He unlocks the car and you both get in.

“Thank you,” you whisper, eyes shining, “for taking me out.”

“Of course,” he hums. “Next time it can just be us, without kids and Robin.”

Your stomach flips and you ignore it again. “I’d really like to.”

You both make conversation as you head down the darkened streets. You think the town at night is beautiful and serene. Steve thinks it’s eerie and threatening. He really didn’t like going out at night much anymore, and he typically had to talk himself up if he was leaving somewhere past 9 pm. You notice the change in his energy, how he is suddenly gripping the steering wheel a bit too tight.

You begin to ask him if he’s alright, but a deer scampers across the road. It’s not very close, and maybe required just a slight brake, but Steve throws his arm out to pin you to your seat and slams on the brakes. The car slides to a halt and you slam back against the seat; thankfully Steve threw his arm over you, or you’d probably have a severe case of whiplash.

When the car stills, you look over at him, eyes wide and heart skipping. He looks like he aged 50 years in ten seconds. His eyes are huge, jaw clenched tightly. A crease on his forehead. His body is stiff and he is leaning forward, almost like he’s about to fight. He looks, quite honestly, like death.

“Steve,” you breathe. “Are you okay?”

Steve throws the car into park. He squeezes his eyes shut and blinks a few times, eventually relaxing in his seat. Although his body is relaxed, you can hear how his breathing is a quick staccato, not slow. He runs a hand through his hair once, twice, three times. It sounds like he’s drowning, and his eyes are filled with tears when he looks at you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers hoarsely. “I’m sorry – I thought –“

His eyes can’t focus. They run around in his head, back at the road, to you, to the steering wheel, to his hands, to the road again.

You realize he’s having a panic attack.

“Hey, hey,” you coo. “Look at me, Steve.”

He faces you, but his eyes are still moving rapidly, and his breathing is becoming quicker. You see him swallow hard.

“You’re safe,” you say, reaching out and taking a hand. “It was just a deer. You’re safe. I’m here.”

He nods stiffly. “No – I know that – I just thought….” I just thought it was a Demogorgon. No big deal. He clamps his eyes shut again and you see tears fall.

“Steve, look at me. Focus on me, okay?”

He nods lightly and does, and you see his pupils focus in on you.

“Breathe with me, alright? In and out.” You exaggerate your breathing, deeply in through the nose and out through the mouth. He tries to keep up and pace himself, but it takes a few tries.

“You’re doing great,” you say quietly, and squeeze his hand. “Can you pull the car over for me?”

He does as you ask, eyes scanning the road ahead. His bat is in the trunk (he figured he should hide it before you see it), and he considers getting out to grab it. You pull him back to reality.

“Look at me.” His eyes meet yours again. “I’m going to teach you something, okay? It’s based on your senses. Can you tell me five things you hear?”

He blinks. “I hear the engine… I hear your breathing… I hear the radio… I hear my breathing… I hear my heart beating.”

You nod. “Okay, good. Four things you can see?”

“Uh….” His eyes flick back to the road and you gently pull his head back to look at you.

“I’ll focus on the road, okay? Just tell me four things you see in the car.”

“I see you… I see my hands… I see the steering wheel… I see the light from the stereo.”

“Three things you smell?”

“My cologne, your perfume, gasoline.”

“Two things you can feel?”

“Your skin and the seat under me.”

You smile. “This one’s tough. One thing you can taste.”

Steve pauses. “Coca-Cola?”

“Perfect,” you say, squeezing his hand again. “Do you feel better?”

He does; he’s not fully grounded, but he’s feeling better than he did a few minutes ago. He can breathe normally again, and his body is a bit more relaxed. He nods and you let his hand go.

“You’re okay,” you repeat. “You’re safe.”

“I’m okay,” he breathes. He reaches up and wipes his eyes, laughing slightly. “I’m sorry.”

“Do not apologize.” You don’t really know what just happened, but you know whatever he’s going through must be tough. “Your feelings are valid. It’s okay to feel that way, Steve.”

Steve sighs heavily, and after a few minutes, he puts the car in drive.

“Don’t take me home,” you request. “I can walk.”

“What? No way. I’m taking you to your house.”

“Steve,” you say. “Sometimes you need to take care of yourself before you take care of others. I can walk, dude, it’s only 15 minutes, max.”

He wants to refute your claim. He wants to believe he’s strong enough to just take you home and forget about it all, but all he wants to do is crawl into bed and sleep until the afternoon. He just wants to forget. So he pulls into his driveway and shuts the car off. He sits there for a few moments before finally saying, “I’m sorry I ruined tonight.”

“Steve.” You can’t help but to laugh. “I haven’t been this happy in so long. I don’t care – I don’t mind that you got… spooked. And we don’t ever have to talk about it again. I don’t care what happens as long as I’m with you.”

The corners of his mouth perk up. “Oh no, Y/N. Don’t fall in love with me.”

You roll your eyes and nudge him, smiling. That’s the Steve you knew.

You reach into the center console, finding an old receipt and a pen.

“Here,” you say, scribbling. “Here’s my number.” You shove the receipt towards him, and he takes it.

Steve writes his number on the bottom of the receipt and rips it off. “And here’s mine. You better call me when you get home. Like, the minute you go through the door.”

“I promise.”

You both get out of the car.

“I really did have fun,” you say. “I hope I see you soon.”

He nods. Part of you wishes he would say it back, but you understand. As you’re walking off, he calls after you.

“Y/N!”

“Yeah?”

He licks his lips. “Thank you.”

You give him a tight-lipped smile and salute, continuing off into the night.

---------

You awake Monday morning at 1 am to your phone ringing. You quickly sit up in bed and grab it.

“Hello?”

“Y/N.” It’s Steve. “I need your help.”

Your eyebrows knit together, and you look at your clock. “Are you okay?”

“I….” He huffs. “I’m trying to make danishes for everyone at the station? But everything I do is wrong, and there’s flour everywhere—”

“It’s one in the god damn morning!” You exclaim. “We have work in seven hours.”

“Yeah,” he says, like you’re the idiot. “Why do you think I’m making them now?”

You close your eyes. You want to be annoyed, but it’s honestly hilarious. “Okay, Steve. I’ll be there in a few.”

You arrive and knock on the door, and you’re greeted by Steve. He is covered in flour, and he looks nearly as stressed as he was Friday night.

You gawk at him. “What—”

“Just – come in,” he insists, grabbing you and pulling you inside.

Steve has a really nice house. Or apartment, or whatever he wants to call it. He takes you through the living room, then dining room, and into the kitchen, where there is even more flour. It looks like a bomb went off.

“So,” he starts, pacing around the kitchen, creating tracks in the flour-covered floor. “I’m trying to make these, right? And it says to put flour and butter into a blender. And so I did. And like, it’s fine, it’s going great, but then I guess I added too much flour, and now it’s everywhere. And this fucking dough is supposed to chill for 6 hours and we have work in 7.”

“Where is your recipe?”

He hands you a sheet of paper and you scan over it.

“Steve,” you groan. “Are you even following this?” You look up at him. “How did you even manage to mix the yeast and water correctly?”

He leans on the counter and puts his head in his hands. “I don’t think I did.”

You burst into laughter. You can hardly keep yourself upright. Your ribs and jaw hurt, but you can’t stop. Steve seems annoyed at first, but then starts laughing with you.

“No matter what, you couldn’t have these done in the morning,” you say, wiping your eyes. “Why did you think this was a good idea?”

He shrugs hopelessly. “I just wanted to be nice, and I couldn’t sleep.”

You both resolve to cleaning up and starting again. You would make the dough and let it chill, and then continue making them that night.

You watch from afar, giving Steve tips and reading the directions out for him. He’s not super helpless when someone is directing him. When it comes time to fold the dough, though, he’s doing it wrong.

“No,” you say, jumping up and coming behind him. “You fold like this.”

You take his hand and help him get the technique right. After a few moments, your cheeks start to burn, and you feel that same chest-swelling feeling that you had at Mike’s house. You slow your movements and Steve follows, until you completely stop. He turns back to look at you, and you notice how close you are to him.

Suddenly, the phone rings. Steve drops the spatula he was using and hurries off into the living room, looking paler than usual.

“Hello?” you hear him ask. There’s a long pause before he says, “Do you want Y/N to come too?” Another pause. “Okay. We’ll be right there.”

He comes back into view and looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“Who was it?” you ask, heart beating fast.

“It was the Chief. There’s a dead body at Rimborn Steelworks.”

--------

tags (message if you want to join!): @harrington-ofhawkins @wolfish-willow @gothackedalready

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things fic #my fics #the partners #god this is so long rip to everyone who chooses to read it all #chapter summaries are so hard wtf

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ruinins · 4 years ago

Text

— ϟ › ( bae suzy, cis woman, she/her ) ⋆ you know , the gossip in london is insidious , and gossip about a HALFBLOOD ( SEER ) like SYBILL TRELAWNEY seems to constantly be afloat. what i know for a fact , though , is that they’re a TWENTY THREE year old DRAGONOLOGIST who graduated as a RAVENCLAW from HOGWARTS. someone they went to school with told me that roaring flames just tenderly brushing your cheek, the subtle wrongness of a reflection in the mirror, crackling records playing on a phonograph, the gentle flickering light of a firefly, and a million glittering pieces of a broken crystal ball & THE LOVERS always reminded them of HER. maybe that’s why the WITCH has publicly declared their allegiance to NO ONE ?

NAME : sybill trelawney ( no middle name ). NICKNAMES : none, technically, but she does have a korean name she uses at work—sihyeon—which her mother gave her. DATE OF BIRTH : march 9th, 1958. HOGWARTS HOUSE : ravenclaw. ZODIAC SIGN : pisces sun, scorpio moon, sagittarius rising / year of the dog. AGE : twenty - three. GENDER / PRONOUNS : cis woman & she/her. SEXUAL ORIENTATION : bisexual, biromantic. PLACE OF BIRTH : belfast, ireland. EYE COLOR : dark brown. HAIR COLOR : black. HEIGHT : 5’4. SCARS : scar on her lower back ; burn scars littering her arms. ETHNICITY : korean. PARENTS : trelawney, silvius ( father ); trelawney, victoria née kang ( mother, muggle, † ). SIBLINGS : only child. MARITAL STATUS : single. OCCUPATION : dragonologist. LANGUAGES : english, korean, some mandarin chinese.

CARD CORRESPONDENCE: sybill’s card is the lovers, reversed, representing her doubts in herself, her career, the people who surround her, and how cynical she’s become.sybill has always been littered with self-doubt. for herself, for the lineage she’s been born into, for her dubious gift that everyone insists isn’t really there. having no one believe in you takes a toll on a witch. she’s haunted by a need that never leaves her, a need to prove herself and her sight, a need that has only worsened with time ( no one knows how nauseating it feels, to face a portrait of the great cassandra trelawney after receiving a dreadful in divination ). there’s something to be said about fake it until you make it, but sybill never quite manages to make it. slowly, the doubt has been sinking its claws into her, and she’s been shrinking away from her wants and focusing more on other things, practical things––her aimless job, her aimless life.

until recently, sybill wandered through life with a certain naivete. it’s served her well, like most things in life that aren’t the second sight. but then, she let someone close, let herself believe they cared about her, let herself open up only to be stabbed in the back. figuratively and literally, by the scar that still stings whenever she reaches behind to brush her hands over it. she’s changed, become aware of the snakes in the grass––become aware that they don’t always look like snakes. this mistrust in others is slowly bordering on paranoia, but she can’t seem to make it stop. people call her a falsifier, a manipulator, a fool; why shouldn’t she meet energy with energy, insult with insult, distaste with distaste ?

ministry file / pinterest board ( EYES TW for the board ) / playlist

tw: murder ( mentioned, also attempted murder ), neglect ( ? ), parental death ( skip paragraph beginning with ‘sixteen’ ! )

zero.

you don’t know this, you’ll never know this, but it was your father who named you. hunched over your laughing mother and clutching your tiny fist between his fingers, tears streaming down his face, he pleaded sybill, call her sybill. an oracle of delphi born anew. in a few weeks, you will both be the subject of controversy: the girl who’s birth ended the pureblood trelawney line, and the pureblood who fell for a muggle. but for now, you are loved.

eight.

you live in a cottage, small and hidden, tucked into a nook of ireland where there are more animals than people. this is purposeful. your father has a manor in london, a hanok in korea, but it is this cottage where the three of you can live at peace. your father is gone most days; you have no idea what he does. instead, your mother teaches you things, practical things. “what if you lose your magic; how will you cook then ?” you think her reasoning is silly, but you play along - even if your father comes home to a look of distaste when he sees you manually scrubbing dishes.

something happens to you. you’re outside, playing, when you reach out to pet a cat that’s just appeared - and a haze settles in. fog clouds your mind, your sight; there’s nothing. no darkness, no void: there is just nothing. and then there is your mother, frantic, choking on tears as she shakes you. later, your father will grin. “has my little sybill inherited cassandra’s gift ?” he’s joking, of course. no one in the family has had cassandra trelawney’s inner eye in generations.

but when you’re taken to a healer, nothing is wrong. nothing they can find, anyway. and a spark lights in you.

sixteen.

your mother is dead. your mother is dead. taken from you while you couldn’t protect her, while you were in school; your father insists he took his eyes off of her for just a second, but you don’t believe him at all. he’s always wanted you to be more witch than muggle. he’s never understood that she’s both, in a way, and that that’s okay. you wonder if he killed her or if he sent someone to do it, instead. either way, he is a coward and a fool and you hate him; this, you tell him.

the next christmas break, you don’t visit home.

eighteen.

you don’t come home for summer break, either. you don’t come back at all until after graduation, to face cassandra trelawney’s portrait and beg for guidance. for help with your gift. the gift that has abandoned you, it seems, along with your mother.

you apply, young and naïve, for the position of divination professor at hogwarts. as if anyone would hire you. the rejection stings, but what hurts more is having to face your father. he seems to have planned this outcome all along, and when he offers to help you find a realistic job using his connections, you want to do the filthy muggle thing and punch him.

you take his offer, however, when he reveals it’s in korea. away. that is what you need. away from him, away from london, away from that damned portrait. a week later, you’re in seoul. a week after that, you’re a dragonologist-in-training.

twenty two.

you travel, often. your specialty is hatchlings, and the reserve has begun to branch out, so they send you on missions to other reserves - get an egg, bring it back. in one of your travels, something happens, something unexpected: you meet someone. they’re charming, kind. when you tell them about your gift, their eyes light up. they believe you. you trust them fast.

you don’t see them often, but when you do, it’s incredible. you think they might be something special. you want them to be something special.

then, that night. you’re not sure what happened. everything is a haze; you’d been feeling like that for hours, feeling wrong. they were aggressive. they wanted something. and that fog, the one that had only flickered to life once every few years, was returning. for a moment, you knew nothing. and then you knew blood. the taste of iron, the way it stuck to your fingers. they’d stabbed you. surely, they had; there was no one else in your home, no blood but yours staining your floors.

your father is the one that finds you by a stroke of fate. takes you to a healer. you live, but something in you dies.

if you ever see them again, they will wish they’d finished you off with the killing curse instead.

twenty three.

you’re back in wizarding london. it’s been years. technically, you’re here for work - “the macfusty’s have to have a hebridean black egg, sihyeon; do well and find us one.” - but you seem to have fallen right into a budding war. you don’t want anything to do with it. you will go in, get an egg, and get out before anything terrible happens.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

hogwarts friends / enemies / bullies –– for, um, obvious reasons, sybill wasn’t terribly popular at school. i’m literally down for anything from hogwarts, from close friends who drifted after her mother died to people who terrorized her for making prophecies and being a “false seer”, to those she finessed with her you’re going to die in a week-type proclamations.

THE STABBY STAB –– so when i was coming up with this i very much wanted sybill to be stabbed instead of cursed bc a) stabbing is something that can be So Personal and b) it’s more of a muggle thing, and it’s fitting for someone who does often to things the “odd”/muggle way to find her ( almost ) end in the same way. i really..... don’t have much else for this connection; the way i visualized it, this person was probably looking for a seer for Some Reason, and whatever sybill told them during her vision - bc she did have a Real Prophecy that night - it wasn’t something they wanted to hear. or something they wanted to get out. sybill definitely had romantic feelings for them, but this obviously didn’t need to be reciprocated - the relationship could’ve been 100% platonic. does this character regret The Stab ? did they kind of want her to live ? are they prepared for the suplex she’ll give them On Sight ?

ruin me, ruin us, and i’ll let you –– this is, incredibly enough, not a romantic connection. i mentioned in my now-deleted gonetalk post that i love platonic soulmates; this is that. whether they connected instantly or they had to slowly get accommodated to each other, i want someone to have an Unbreakable Bond with sybill. they don’t have to already be friends, maybe it slowly happens, but eventually they’d both do anything for each other. if u have read the poppy war series, yes this is very much a wc based off of rin and kitay, those are the Vibes i’m going for.

this town’s only big enough for one cowboy –– I DON’T THINK THERE’S ONE YET BUT IF U ARE PLANNING A SECOND CHARACTER..... . .. picture this: someone who’s a seer who is actually competent, and can actually prophesize well instead of Whenever The Inner Eye Wants To. the jealousy ! the rivalry ! the mocking ! the shame ! GIVE IT TO ME NOW....

family friends ? family ? cousins ? –– i have sybill’s family being purebloods up to her, so i’d imagine she has a few distant family members or family friends running around ? i imagine her father runs in pro-death eater circles but isn’t one so !

#* intro.#me: i wont do a graphic #me 2 seconds later opening photopea:#uhh warning before u open this it's... Long #eye tw #j-just in case bc one of the little dots is a weird eye #ALSO WCS AT THE END !

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buildarocketboys · 4 years ago

Note

For the fandom thing, Robin hood bbc? And for the character one, guy of gisborne?

Ahhh Rouke I love you so much for this!

Robin Hood BBC:

Favorite character: Guy of Gisborne (who else? I blame Richard Armitage, Sarah Kennedy on radio 2 for planting the idea in my head, and my easily swayed 12 year old self. But also he's a good fucking character lol)

Least favourite character: uhhh as a *character* probably Robin. Literally such an arrogant piece of shit who rarely acknowledges his own privilege (when it comes to his gang and the fact that he's a noble and they're...not) or his own faults. And we're still meant to see him as the ultimate good guy/hero. Pass.

5 favourite ships:

- Guy/Marian (I want to be clear though, this is one of those ships where the character dynamic is absolutely fascinating and a joy to watch, but I honestly don't think it actually becoming canon would be a) a good story or b) good for either of them)

- Guy/Allan (just. I fucking love how Allan gives no shits and treats Guy like a normal fucking human. He calls him Giz! And that dream Guy has about both Marian AND Allan massaging his shoulders while sweet talking him...I'm just saying. Anyway as opposed to Guy/Marian I actually think these two are good for each other and I wish their dynamic had been explored more, especially when Guy joins the outlaws in s3 but it's not explored *at all*)

- Marian/friendship with any female character. Fucking seriously. Let her vibe with Djaq (although ig I hc Djaq as nb. Any non-male character then) and bitch about the boys. PLEASE. She needs it.)

- Marian/Allan friendship (I'm realising doing this that I care far more about the friendships in this show than the romantic relationships. But seriously, these two people are in exactly the same position in opposite sides ie spies for the various teams, and that's fascinating, especially as Allan still protects Marian/has her back after he's found out. They probably kind of mildly dislike each other at first but it's bc they see a lot of their worst selves in each other. But honestly together these two can rule the world with banter and pure deviousness)

- Much/literally anyone who respects and values him as a person I'm begging you pleassssee (seriously, he gets this for like half an episode with Eve, which is lovely, but then it's back to being the butt of the Gang's jokes and Robin's punching bag/servant/""best friend"". And when Much wants any kind of display of friendship and affection from Robin, Robin makes fun of it and acts like it's such a chore. Ugh.)

Character I find most attractive: Guy of Gisborne started off my lifelong Richard Armitage obsession so it can't be anyone else. That is a beautiful, beautiful man. Marian is also gorgeous.

Character I would marry: Djaq or Much

Character I would be best friends with: literally all of Team Castle - Guy bc he badly needs /someone/ to be his friend (although I doubt he'd let me), Allan bc he'd be hilarious, Marian bc we could bitch about everyone and just have some good times. Ultimately Allan is probably the kind of person I'd be most likely to befriend irl.

A random thought: @Robin King Richard sucks bro and when he dies Prince John is gonna be king anyway, monarchy as a concept sucks anyway, consider dismantling it instead of putting all your faith in things getting better when the king returns

An unpopular opinion: I actually don't hate s3 the way much of the fandom seems to? Yes it was a trainwreck (hello? Have you watched this show? The whole thing is a trainwreck) and I hate that Marian died but I do think it went some interesting places we hadn't been before, especially re Guy (who lbr is the character I care most about). Don't get me wrong, it didn't do it very well, but I rewatch it more than s1.

My canon OTP:....uhhhhhh....does Guy/Marian count?? They're not really an OTP anymore though (although they used to be when I was like. 13.) They just have a cool dynamic.

My non-canon OTP: Guy/Allan ig

Most badass character: Marian, 100%. Especially s1 Marian. Icon. Queen of guerrilla fighting and sassy comebacks and saying fuck you to men.

Most epic villain: I guess the Sheriff? Idk about epic but he is the epitome of cartoonishly evil, which is fun to watch. Love to hate him.

Pairing I am not a fan of: Robin/Marian 🤢🤢🤢 (not saying it's bad if you ship it lmao, Robin is kind of a dick but it's more I can't stand how unbearably cheesy it is)

Character I feel the writers screwed up: What character DIDN'T they screw up? But I feel like they screwed over Isabella the worst. They made her seem unreasonably evil when her anger was entirely 100% valid and fair.

Favourite friendship: None of the friendships I actually enjoy were written to their full potential. But I guess Guy and Allan?

Character I most identify with: Allan or Djaq

Character I wish I could be: wouldn't want to be in her situation but would love to be as badass as Maz

Guy of Gisborne:

How I feel about this character: my terrible overdramatic emo son. Wish he could have had a proper redemption arc without killing Marian.

Any/all people I ship romantically with this character: Marian and Allan. And I guess Meg for the brief moment in time where that was a thing.

My favourite non-romantic relationship for this character: I know we only get a hint of it (and she dies) but I love Guy's relationship with Ghislaine. I just feel like they had such a loving relationship and then it all went to hell :( I also kind of think both Guy/Marian and Guy/Allan might work better/be more interesting as friendships

My unpopular opinion about this character: tbh in this fandom even liking him is an unpopular opinion to a lot of people 😂 I think if you took away the sheriff, he'd treat Marian better than Robin treats her (I mean, in some ways he already does but also like...he burns her house down soooo)

One thing I wish had happened with this character in canon: oh boy so many things. But the two places my mind goes most often are 1. Escaping the castle (with Allan and/or Marian), probably after Treasure of the Nation (ie my favourite RH episode of all time) and either joining the gang (equal parts hilarious and angsty) or starting a life somewhere new, away from all this bullshit and 2. Just more gang shenanigans after he joins them in s3. We had some, which was great, but I would have love to see more, to see him grudgingly becoming the weird ex villain friend and then actually building relationships with some of the gang

Favourite friendship: Allan

My crossover ship: Guy + therapy (also I'm sure I've thought about this before but I really can't think of a good answer). Maybe Eleanor Shellstrop (as friends)? I feel like that would be a fun dynamic to explore.

#asks #ask meme #afaintcloudyhaze #robin hood bbc #guy of gisborne

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mydearsaddiary · 4 years ago

Text

Speakeasy Tonight Neil Season 3 Fanfic- Chapter 8

Author notes: +16, some subjects may be sensitive to some readers. (Violence and harassment)

Hello! Here’s chapter 8! Can’t believe Im almost done with it! I plan on going until chapter 10 or 11, but we are almost done with the Adler saga! Thank you so much for reading until here! Let’s go on until the end! Enjoy!

Candy (08/16/2020)

Chapter 8- Behind the eight ball

There was a tenseness in the air the whole day while I was at the Ice Box. Vince couldn’t seem to be able to quiet down. Cliff dried glasses that were already dry, Neil was on his third bourbon glass, Donovan grunted every now and then as if he wanted to disagree with something. Even Julius and Cleo sounded off key every now and then

Me and Vince going to dinner that night was messing with everybody’s head in different ways. You could feel in your body that it was like walking into the lions’ den, that you’re putting your life on the line. The anticipation never made me feel so alive before, even if I was scared. My heart palpitated inside my chest, reminding me to be ready, attentive and most of all: careful.

Vince was up and running, but I could tell sometimes he felt pain. His tough exterior and his Italian hot-blooded head didn’t permit him to show weakness for long. That was the Mad Dog alright, no one could keep him down more than a night. Some might say Vince is empty headed due to his lack of skills in grammar, math, manners or anything society deems essential to make it big, but they haven’t been in Vince’s shoes. I didn’t know what had happened to his parents although I heard something about a terrible death when he was a kid, but he was always a survivor. On top of it, he had a way of dealing with people much like I did. He was a salesman whenever he opened his mouth, and people were convinced by his words. And in case they weren’t, he carried his fists and his favorite gun “Pearl”. Having him at my side tonight made my fears controlled enough for me to be sure I could make it out alive out of the mayor’s house that night.

In contrast, there was the man I had fallen in love with. If Vince was the tough man that broke, bent and hurt, Neil was there to fix, put together and heal. The steady hands of the Doc were so much different than the vicious, trained fighter that was Vince Moretti. For this reason he had to stay behind. Someone like the mayor wasn’t his job and he knew it. I could also tell it bothered him to an extreme and that he wished he could do more than just sit still and wait. I reckoned it was the same feeling he had in the war

Whenever the riflemen went ahead to fight, as a medic he must’ve always stayed a little further behind, until he heard a cry for him. I must imagine when they came back many were bleeding and most died. He wasn’t in the thick of action but he always had to deal with the consequences, the aftermath. The admiration for him for doing so grew everyday. Not many would have been able to do it, and even for Neil, the darkness of it almost took over completely. So I couldn’t help but feel he was scared of this dinner, because its the action he wouldn’t be able to partake in, but was wondering if either me or Vince wouldn’t come back unscathed.

The only way I knew how to soothe him was to play leader, act confident. So my feet took me to him, and hugged him around his shoulders from behind. Although his focus remained on the bourbon, I could feel the tenseness in his shoulders ease

-Guess who called me this morning, before I came in?- I said and he turned his head to the side- Your mother

-Mother?-This time he turned to me. It was a weird thing hearing that word come out of his mouth. Being estranged from his family for so long... Hearing him mention a parent made him look younger and softer in my eyes. It wasn’t bad, it was just different- What about?

-She said she’s terribly sorry my last visit to Boston didn’t turn out the way it should have and we should come up again for a formal engagement dinner. I’m betting it’ll be incredibly ritzy and she did invite my family, which means Uncle Charlie will be there!

He seemed to ponder over it for a few seconds- And I’m guessing you agreed, so I have no choice but to attend another social gathering. If I knew a wedding involved meeting with so many people so often I would’ve suggested we did it all in secrecy

-Oh, don’t be a wet blanket! You only get married once!

-Thank the heavens for that- He raised his glass and I punched him in the arm, making him spill some of it- Ow! Hey! Fine, I get it. We’ll go.

-Great. It’s this weekend

-Isn’t it too early? With the whole mayor ordeal?

-It’ll be fine, it’s just a weekend. Besides, the wedding planner did say all the invitations finished being sent out yesterday!-I said with a lot more enthusiasm in me than he had in him. I would’ve taken offense otherwise, but it’s Neil. He never really made a big deal out of most things, wedding invitations included

I asked Cliff for a drink and for a while we were just sitting in a comfortable silence, I was about to propose a chess game when the phone rang

-It’s Charlie, MC. He wants to talk to you- Cliff said

I made my way there, thanking him before picking it up- Hey, Unc

-Hey, Kiddo. Been hearing quite a lot about the mayor from over here- He said cheerfully. He sounded healthier, which made me happier about my decision to send him back for a few weeks, even if it turned out being longer than I expected

-Yea, he’s been some trouble, but we’re actually almost done with him- I mentioned the documents and the dinner, catching up on all of the business recently. Then, we spent some time catching up on family and those little things about relatives like Aunt Mabel or cousin Katrina that didn’t really matter much but if was nice to talk about. I mentioned the Boston dinner and I could hear him smiling through the phone, letting me know he’d tell my family

-Listen, MC. It’s time I went back to Chicago.

-We’re almost done, Uncle Charlie. I’ll let you know!

-I know you were worried about my health. I’m glad you sent this old man away for a few weeks. I needed to call you and tell you that even though I set things up for the long term there for you, it’s time I officially retired from the Ice Box and handed over the keys to you

-Uncle...

-I won’t go anywhere, I’ll come in once in a while. It’d give me the chance to take it easy, now that I know the place is in good hands. We’ll still work together at the appliance store- He paused, thinking about his next words- But before I do, I can’t just drop everything on your shoulders. I know the Ice Box has risks and I’ve been in this business way longer than you have. I have plenty to offer before I step down for good. I wanna work on this one last job together.

I didn’t know if his desire was out of pride, or if he was missing his true home and family that he found within the Ice Box. I knew I couldn’t keep Uncle Charlie away for too long, but there was a resolve in his voice that I had to respect

-I could use you here, Unc- That was my answer

He laughed- I thought it’d take more than that to convince you. When we meet in Boston, I’ll come back to Chicago with you and Neil

-Sounds like a plan. I’ll let everyone know.

____

As the afternoon went on with preparations for the dinner I still had one thing on my mind. I needed to tell Neil I was expecting, that much I already knew. But either something seemed to get in the way, or I got too nervous to say anything. Part of me wondered if it was the universe telling me to tell him later. However, I knew that going to this dinner without telling him would betray his trust

At night when the Ice Box opened and people started to fill up the place, I decided it was time to tell him. With less than an hour before I left and everyone doing their jobs I pulled Neil away from the loud music and excited dancing to the back room

-Did you really pull me here for necking?

I laughed kissing him gently- I could have but... No. I actually need to talk to you. Remember I was trying to tell you something last week? I-

-MC, you in there?-I could hear Vince knocking- We have to go

-Oh for Pete’s sake, this isn’t happening tonight- I grabbed both of his arms looking into his eyes- I’m pregnant.

His eyes weren’t wide with surprise, but the shock was visible, more as if he had just realized something rather than just found something out. His brows twisted, trying to read in my face if I was joking or being serious. Something in my eyes must’ve convinced him, because he let out a sigh, and I could tell he was trying to find the words to say.

-MC!-Vince called again

-I have to go, now... We’ll talk about it tonight- I opened the door

-Wait a second...-He turned to follow me and I knew he was going to try to stop me.

Against my better judgement I forced myself to move to move faster- I have to go!-I repeated myself- There’s no other way

-MC!-I heard Neil’s voice but I was already far away. I could hear him following me outside but I stepped in Vince’s car and told him to drive away

I didn’t allow myself to feel heartless. A decision had to be done and it was the hard one. Although I knew within me I made the right choice by telling him before I went, I knew I had to go. I would probably face the consequences of it later, but what mattered is that the Ice Box would be safe, and Neil would still know.

-You alright, there?-Vince asked while driving

-Yes, there’s just too much going on at once- I answered- Once this night is over it’ll be a weight lifted off our shoulders. Are you ready to steal those documents?

-I am. Going to the John upstairs, his office is third door on the left and the documents are all in folders on the bottom drawer of his desk

-You got it. If you have time though, find out if there’s anything anywhere else, There must be some more important papers laying around.

-I got it, doll. You just focus on distracting the mayor

____

The moment Vince parked and the roar of the engine stopped, I swear I could hear both of our hearts struggling to not beat out of rib cages. Vince was in his fanciest suit, I was in my ritziest evening dress. He got out and in a respectable manner opened the door and offered his hand to me.

On the gate there were two mean-looking goons, keeping the mayor’s palace safe. We said who we were and easier than I imagined, we were allowed the entrance to the grand house that scared me but pulled me in just as much

When we stepped foot in the immense living room, the main door was closed behind us. The noise it made when it shut echoed throughout the room, as if it reminded us that we were outsiders, peasants and minuscule in the presence of the king, the mayor, who we could see ahead of us in the dining room. The table was set and the gigantic chandelier fell right above it like the sun of his world

-Welcome, Vince... Miss Granger. Sit down-He motioned to two chairs in front of his.

Our slow and steady steps took us to the dinner. Each step made my heart beat faster. Me and Vince hadn’t said anything since we stepped foot in the house, but we must’ve been making a pretty good job out of remaining stone-faced, because the mayor kept smiling unknowing of our plans to betray him in his own house. Vince had made a good job of saving his life. He admired him and now, he trusted him

We ended up sitting opposite to him, and the silence was almost unbearable. Adler’s eyes watched the both of us for a few seconds before he started talking- Don’t be shy. It doesn’t fit the personality of the Mad Dog or the Ice Box flapper... Oh!- He paused as if he had realized something- Don’t tell me you’re intimidated!- He looked at me- Let bygones be bygones, Miss Granger. I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, but... We’re all working to our mutual benefit now.

I breathed deeply, calming my nerves- That’s right. What matters for me is that the Ice Box is safe. As long as that’s the case, everything’s the cat’s pajamas

I looked at the food in front of me, inside I wondered if it was poisoned, or if he was the one fooling us. But with Vince not being the sharpest tool in the box, he dug right in, eating everything in front of him. He didn’t die or started getting sick so I safely assumed I could too

Once the anticipation of the dinner ended, the whole event was actually pretty boring with the mayor talking on and on. It reminded of dinners with Momma’s friends on Sundays. Suddenly, I was a little girl again and I couldn’t wait for it all to be over. This time, however, I knew more things were at stake. As we finished dessert a signaled to Vince discreetly with my eyes

-‘Scuse me, Adler. This was all fine and well and I’ll be right back- He started getting up- I need to go to the john. Where is it?

-Closest one is upstairs, first door on the left- He pointed up. He agreed and was on his way to, instead, steal all the documents we needed. The tick of the clock seemed to slow down, as if it was letting me know this was a very important moment, one that I would never forget

-You’re looking lovely tonight, Miss Granger- Adler said. It was his turn to get up, only to walk around the table and occupy Vince’s spot by my side. The gesture made my skin tingle, as if millions of ants crawled on it. I wanted to run, to scream and escape. However, if I could keep the mayor talking it’d be the chance we needed to end him for good

-Thanks, Adler. I see you didn’t give up on your advances towards me. Even though you know I’m a taken woman, engaged in fact.

-Oh, I know that- He touched my hair. Why was I shivering? Was I not able to control my fear? Why did his dark eyes scare me so much? I impulsively backed off, looking into his eyes seemingly brave- But- He continued either way- I know that women like you, Miss Granger, don’t consider themselves a lady, and I’ve no doubt that you’d hate to be treated like a porcelain doll, a gentlewoman- His face approached me- No... No...-He whispered- You’re different, MC. You’re fierce, you’re the leader of a group of gangsters. You got dangerous men tied on a leash.

-The Ice Box is but a small operation, there are much bigger competito-

-You’re right- He interrupted- But none of them faces the odds of society, of judgement and underestimation. No, you are an incredible woman. Any man would be lucky to call you his wife- He grabbed my jaw making me look at him. I was trying my hardest not to show any fear, but it was hard- And one thing you should know about me is that I hate when somebody claims a treasure before I do. Lucky for me, you are not married, just engaged.

-Mayor Adler- I tried to pull his hands away, but he was bigger and stronger- This wasn’t what we agreed on

-Here’s my new proposition!-He sad grabbing my jaw tighter, making me yelp- Together we should have control of the entire Chicago’s underworld. You’ll be first lady, my wife! And I’ll give you the keys to be the most powerful and biggest operation Chicago, no, the United States has ever seen. Imagine how much power you would give me. Imagine it, the First Lady of Chicago. You’d have your own empire!- His other free hand pushed my dress up my thighs, I could see the disgusting lust he had in his eyes

A force came upon me, I didn’t know where I found the strength, but I punched him on his nose, making him back away from me. I got up, pulling my gun off my leg holster and pointing it at him- Don’t you dare touch me again. I’ll never belong to a man like you.

It gave me satisfaction to see his nose bleed. But it died quickly when he laughed- Take her.

Before I realized two big men grabbed me from behind overpowering me. My screams must’ve been loud enough because I could hear steps coming towards us, and soon Vince had his gun to the mayor- Let her go!

-Vince, watch out!- I said as another one of his goons fired a shot, which hit Vince’s side. He groaned and collapsed on the floor.

Everything was slow once again. The red forming on his side, the blood gushing from his wound onto the floor. The sound of his beloved gun pearl crashing against the tiles. The sound of his body hitting the ground. The way all the documents we needed spread from inside his suit all over the floor, painting a white that contrasted the deep red around my friend. My uncle’s adopted son.

-You were planning to deceive me all along!-Adler said in rage as he saw the papers. Betrayal showed in his eyes towards Vince

-Don’t you ever dare to threaten my family again- Vince said in a quiet, hurt voice- Way to get your skull cracked

-You know what I do to those who betray me? I make them suffer- He approached Vince’s body on the floor. I sentence you to death.

-Wait! No! I’ll do it!- I yelled, but it was too late.

The two men holding me started to take me away until the whole scene was out of my vision. All I heard was a single shot

-Vince!- I yelled, to no avail

____

The next thing I remember was being taken down these dark stairs and thrown into some sort of basement. The two goons climbed back up and locked the door.

I took some time to weep. For my friend, for the fact that we failed, and for the reason that I didn’t know what I would do know.

Once I calmed down, I looked around. The basement was old fashioned, mostly grey. It was poorly lit and there was no sign of anywhere sunlight could come in. For a basement it was pretty spacious. It had a bathroom with a shower, two old mattresses on the floor, a bookshelf that was almost empty, some spider webs and a table.

I went up the stairs to try to open the door to find out it was truly locked. I climbed back down, defeated, and positioned myself on one of the mattresses, unsure of what to do next.

-I can’t believe he’s gonna keep me prisoner here...

-You best believe it. He will. And there’s no way out. Now what did little Miss Granger do to put herself into this situation?- A deep familiar female voice echoed throughout the room. From the darkness the once elegant figure emerged. The one who once was the main source of my troubles

-Vera...-I said looking up. She looked nothing like the glory she once was. Her dirty clothes and messy longer hair indicated that she was in there for too long of a time. It didn’t take me long to put two and two together and realize she had been there since she disappeared

-Well, this is a pleasant surprise. And so we reunite- She sat on the other mattress

-So you didn’t shoot the mayor and ran away from Chicago...

She snorted- You believed that story?

I shook my head- No, I just wouldn’t put it past you

-Nice of you to start with the unpleasantness, MC. Will make our time as roommates much more agreeable- She laid down- Now I’d like to get some sleep.

-Vera, how are you okay with this?!-I got up- We have to escape! He can’t do that

-I tried. There’s no way- She replied calmly, too calmly- I don’t care about any of it anymore. Politics, mayor, Chicago. It can all go to hell.

I observed the woman for a few seconds. The woman I knew would never even say “hell” before. I don’t know if I hated her more or was starting to actually like her

-Well, I ain’t staying here- I said going up to the door again.

I pushed my body against it. Pulled it with all my might, tried throwing stuff against it and everything I could. But it was useless. I was tired and I was getting nauseous. Defeated I walked back to where I was

-Finally giving up?-Vera asked

I didn’t bother answering- Just... Exactly how long have you been here?

She thought about it for a second- Must be... A few weeks now- She shrugged- I stopped counting, makes you go insane.

-He’s the only one who’s insane- I replied- I ain’t staying here!- I repeated myself, trying to give my confidence a boost. I tried to get up again but felt a pain. My hand instinctively went to my stomach, caressing it

She eyed me curiously. Then with amusement, which quickly turned into surprise-MC, you’re pregnant.

-Thanks for letting me know.-I responded sarcastically. Man, I was spending too much time with Neil.

Oh, man, Neil... I rubbed my eyes thinking about how much he must be going bonkers right now. Guilt overcame my body. He knew being the head of a gang meant I was always putting myself in danger. However, he didn’t sign up to be told he was going to be a father, and then have the gal completely disappear and have herself kidnapped. I was being so selfish. Especially after everything Neil had been through I just had to know something

-Is Adler gonna bump us off?

Vera stared at me- No... No- She shook her head- Adler only kills when he’s being merciful. Those he really hates, people like us, he likes to see them suffer.

-Sounds like the cat’s pajamas- I said unenthusiastically

-Don’t let him know you’re pregnant, MC. Don’t let him know- She said before turning away, falling asleep rather quickly for someone who was in her position.

I made a promise to come back home. To be safe. How many times had I said “I’ll be fine”.

Sometimes you just have to realize how young and stupid you really are.

____

Author’s note: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! A sneak peak on what’s coming next:

MC and Vera are stuck in Adler’s basement with no hope of rescue or a way to escape. However, that won’t make the Ice Box Flapper give up.

“I have yet to find a lock I couldn’t open”

Thank you so much! Please reach out if you need anything!!!

Coming next: Chapter 9- First, do no harm

#voltage usa #speakeasy tonight #voltage amemix #voltage inc #voltage #voltage games #lovestruck #lovestruck voltage #neil dresner #vince moretti #1920s fanfic #voltage men #lovestruck usa #lovestruck game

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carmenlire · 5 years ago

Text

Haha Just Kidding. . . Unless?

read on ao3

Alec almost spits out his coffee as he hears Magnus’s confident answer.

“Kill Jace, Marry Simon, Fuck Alec.”

His best friend says it without blinking or taking a breath and the lunch table falls silent for a minute as everyone processes what Magnus has just said. Alec feels like he’s having a coronary and he hates himself, just a little-- okay a lot-- for the sheer yearning that response creates.

Jace immediately hops on the defensive. “Hey, why would you kill me? Et tu, Brute?” He tips his protein shake in Magnus’s direction. “I’ll have you know that I’m a hot piece of ass and ladies are lining up to get a shot at me.”

Rolling his eyes, Magnus replies, “You wear way too much product in your hair. Just the thought of running my hands through that greasy mess makes me ill. Plus, I don’t think we’ve ever had a civil conversation-- our marriage would be doomed from the start.”

Jace looks like he wants to protest but he just grumbles something nobody understands and chugs his shake. Instead, it’s Simon who straightens, looking intrigued and delighted.

“You’d marry me? Awe, I didn’t know you cared so much.”

Magnus’s reply is absent as his eyes are locked on his phone, fingers flying over the keyboard. “Alexander’s my first choice but since we’re roommates, it’s like we’re already married. You’re a lovely person, Sherman, and at least we have the same taste in music. Coming home to you every night ranks solidly in the middle of how I’d want to spend my time-- not great but better than hell.”

Simon snorts. “You charmer you.”

“Those are bold words, Bane,” Izzy interjects on the other side of the table and Alec didn’t even know she was paying attention. She has a biology test tonight and she’s been furiously reviewing her notes since she plopped down in the seat next to him. “Aren’t you afraid that sleeping with my brother would ruin your friendship?”

Magnus looks discomfited for a moment. It’s striking but Alec can’t read the look in his eyes as he looks uncharacteristically maudlin for a bare moment before he brightens again. Alec could almost believe he’d imagined the look of sour dejection.

“It’s just a game, Isabelle. Alec’s an attractive man and I, more than anybody else, should know how irresistible he is. We’ve been friends since middle school. If I was going to fuck anyone, shouldn’t it be someone I love and trust?”

Alec looks up and his gaze find its unerring way to Magnus’s. He feels a flush crawl up his neck as he meets the challenge in his best friend’s stare. Even though it was a silly game, as Alec looks at Magnus he can’t help but wish it was real instead of his best friend being his usually teasing and outrageous self.

Still. It’s Magnus and there’s really only response Alec can give him. “I love and trust you too, Magnus.”

He hears most of the table groan though Magnus himself doesn’t say anything. No, if Alec didn’t know better, he’d say his friend was struck speechless, though Alec detects the softening of his expression, his eyes growing wide before whatever emotion had flared bright in them is banked.

The moment suspends in time but before either one of them can say anything, Jace is cursing and breaking the moment. “Shit, we’ve got class in ten minutes, Alec.”

Alec groans but heaves himself up-- their class was on the other side of campus from the student center and they’d have to leave now and power walk to get there before Professor Herondale started lecturing. She takes Children’s Psych way too seriously and Alec really doesn’t want his participation grade docked for the day.

Shoving their things into their book bags, Alec and Jace leave with a round of goodbyes. As he passes Magnus, he feels his roommate sweep a hand over his back as he murmurs, “Bye, darling, see you later.”

It’s not until they’re halfway through class and ostensibly working on a group assignment that Jace punches him in the shoulder with a look like Alec’s supposed to know why the hell he just bruised him.

“What the fuck?”

Jace rolls his eyes. “Don’t give me that shit. Did you hear what I heard at lunch? Magnus totally wants in your pants, dude.”

Wincing, Alec’s struck with a pang of resignation for his brother’s delicacy. “You know he didn’t mean it like that.”

“He said, and I quote, ‘fuck Alec.’ In what world does that not mean what it means?”

“Since we’re best friends and he was answering an asinine question,” Alec hisses back, glaring at Jace. “He probably just didn’t want to leave me out.”

Jace just levels him with a look. “You’re dumb as shit, you know that right?”

“Fuck off, Jace,” Alec snaps and Jace’s eyebrows shoot up at the vehemence in his tone.

“Woah, bro. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I thought it was good news! You know Magnus wouldn’t joke about boning his best friend just to do it. You mean too much to him and we all know how gone you’ve been over Magnus since, like, eighth grade.”

Alec sighs and it feels like the weight of the world is on his shoulders. “I can’t get my hopes up, Jace. I’ve been in love with him for years but he doesn’t feel the same way.”

Groaning like they’ve gone around the block about this a thousand times-- because they have-- Jace facepalms. “How many times do I have to tell you-- Magnus feels what you feel but you’re both too stupid to get past your own hang-ups to talk about it.”

Alec doesn’t deign to answer and then Herondale is calling for the class’s attention at the front of the room. Both Jace and Alec slink down in their seats, desperately hoping they don’t get called on since they didn’t even make it through the front of the worksheet, let alone the back.

It’s dusk by the time Alec’s pushing his key in the lock of the apartment he shares with Magnus. Running a hand through his damp hair-- Rugby practice had ran over and his hair’s still wet from the shower he'd taken afterwards-- Alec pushes open their front door as he readjusts the bag on his shoulder.

He’s just set to call out a greeting to Magnus-- he’d texted his roommate when he’d gotten out of the shower to let him know when he’d be home-- and he smells pizza from where it must be waiting in the kitchen.

The words die on his lips, however, as he hears what sounds like Magnus arguing with someone.

“No, Cat, I’m a dumbass,” Magnus groans. “I can’t believe I just said it like that but it-- it just came out and I sure as hell wasn’t going to take the words back.”

Alec frowns, confused, though his lips twitch at Magnus’s propensity for being dramatic. Setting his bag down in the little hallway next to the door, he steps out of his Nike sandals and pads to the living room. Magnus is pacing in front of the tv but he comes to a stop with his back to him as he listens to Catarina on the other end.

He watches his friend’s shoulders slump and the urge to go over to Magnus and engulf him in one of his patented bear hugs is almost overwhelming. Hearing Magnus’s next words, though, Alec freezes, hardly daring to breathe.

“Of course I meant them,” Magnus sighs and he lifts a hand to rake it through already disheveled hair. “Alec could have me any way he wanted. The problem is that he doesn’t want. He just doesn’t see me like that, Cat.”

The words set off a chain reaction in Alec and he half thinks that he’s in the middle of an out of body experience. It seems too good to be true but when Magnus starts speaking again just a few seconds later, Alec allows the endless hope that he's been pushing down for years to spring to life.

“He’s my best friend and I’d rather have that than make a move and not even have him in my life anymore. I don’t think I could live without him at this point-- hell we’ve been roommates all four years of college and before that we had sleepovers at each other’s houses at least three times a week. No,” Magnus says resolutely. “This afternoon was just a game and it doesn’t matter if I’m in love Alec and want him to dick me down into next week I--”

At that moment, Magnus turns around whatever he was about to say dies on his lips as he sees Alec standing there in the doorway.

Neither one says anything for a long moment.

Alec hears Cat grow progressively louder through the phone, her tinny voice growing more insistent as Magnus doesn’t say anything.

Finally, Magnus mumbles, “Bye, Cat,” and hangs up. Dropping his arm, Magnus looks up at Alec with fear in his eyes. His devastation is fairly palpable in their tiny living room.

While Alec still feels like he walked on set of a tv show he’s never seen before, it’s the most natural thing in the world to move until he’s standing right in front of his roommate, his best friend.

Swallowing hard, with Magnus’s words ringing in his ears, Alec scrapes enough courage together to say, “You love me?”

And it should be a ridiculous question-- because duh. They’ve been friends for almost ten years-- over half their lives. Magnus was the first person Alec came out to and he was the first and only person Magnus called their freshman year when his at home perm went horribly wrong and they fit together like they’re made for each other.

Alec’s often thought that if he couldn’t have it all then it was enough to be Magnus’s platonic soulmate, his very best friend.

Now, though, he’s struck by the most fervent longing and he can hardly believe his eyes but he thinks he sees it reflected in Magnus’s gaze.

He watches as Magnus takes a deep breath before leaning imperceptibly closer. His voice is scarcely a breath when he corrects, “You must have heard wrong, Alexander. I said that I’m in love with you.”

The words pierce the spell that seems to have fallen over them and without thinking, Alec’s lunging forward, cupping Magnus’s cheeks and hauling him close for a kiss that feels like coming home.

By the time they pull apart, they’re both breathing hard. Alec doesn’t open his eyes immediately, instead content to nose along Magnus’s jaw. He relishes the closeness, the feel of Magnus sweeping absent hands over his back.

Without thinking, he says, “Oh, thank God.”

He’s gratified to hear Magnus snort before he’s pulling back and looking at Alec with the world’s fondness in his eyes. “I think that’s my line.”

And Alec doesn’t know what it is-- the relief and happiness on Magnus’s face, the way he’s stroking a thumb over Alec’s shoulder in a move that doesn’t even seem conscious, or the simple fact that he’s so happy that it feels like he’s exploding-- but everything melts away except making sure Magnus understands his feelings.

“What,” he says softly, hint of a grin curling over his mouth. “Did you really think I wouldn’t be madly in love with you, too?”

He watches the words land on his best friend-- the way Magnus’s eyes widen and flare bright with delight, the shudder that wracks him as he pulls Alec closer.

It’s Magnus who closes that distance a second time and the kiss is far gentler but contains so much more depth that Alec feels like he’s drowning.

They collapse on the couch just a few feet away and spend the rest of the night kissing and laughing and getting caught up on their shows. By the time they remember, their pizza is cold but neither one minds as they bring the box straight to the where they’re sitting in the living room.

When it’s late and they’re both full and exhausted, Alec stands and lets the blanket that had been wrapped around them fall to the floor. Keeping Magnus’s hand in his, he takes a single step back towards his bedroom. “Ready?”

It’s an innocuous enough question. It’s a statement of fact that they spend more time sleeping together than they do apart-- a hold over from all of those sleepovers growing up-- but the single word is loaded with meaning tonight. In the dim light of their apartment, Alce watches a dozen emotions flit over a face he knows as well as his own, though damned if he can read them.

But Magnus doesn’t hesitate as he squeezes his hand and climbs gracefully to his feet. “Lead the way, darling.”

The two fall asleep wrapped around each other in Alec’s shitty twin bed. Alec had thought he’d be too wired to fall asleep after the day he’d had but with Magnus so close and his heart at ease for the first time in ages, he drifts off almost immediately.

The next morning, the two of them wake up and when their gazes crash together-- both of them eager to prove that the night before wasn’t just a dream-- they each breath a sigh of relief. They have a long, incredibly overdue conversation while they make breakfast and by the time they’re sitting down to eat their infamous french toast, they’re on the same page.

A few days later, when they join their friends at lunch, Magnus and Alec keeping holding hands even as the group’s eyes zero in on them.

It’s silent for a beat before Isabelle starts crowing, startling everyone. “Holy shit,” she exclaims and while her smile lights up her face as she shoots a happy look at Alec, it quickly turns mercenary as she turns it to Jace. “You owe me fifty bucks-- I told you that giving Magnus a FMK scenario would settle things.”

When Jace stares at Isabelle before going to Magnus and Alec’s hands, before going back to Izzy, Alec figures no one’s surprised when he jumps out of his seat. Pointing at Alec, he says in a serious tone, “I’m happy for you, bro-- it’s about time,” before pivoting to point at Isabelle and saying just as seriously, “You’ll have to kill me for it,” and running out of the student hub like his ass is on fire.

Everyone waits to see how Izzy will react but she just shrugs carelessly and takes a bite out of her candy bar. “I know where he sleeps and where he keeps his protein powder.”

Everyone laughs and Magnus and Alec share an exasperated, if fond, look as they take their seats.

They don’t let go of each other’s hands the whole meal, which makes eating lunch a little difficult, but neither one minds at all.

#don't ask me where this came from lmao #but it was a lot of fun!!#haha just kidding. . . unless #my writing #malec fic

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