#it took me so so so long to find his jean jacket forever grateful my detective skills payed off

[wearywinchester]

Tender

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When hiding an injury from Dean doesn’t go to plan, he’s there to give you the comfort you need.

Requested by @latenight-daythoughts: “Hey! I have a request for a Dean one shot please, could you do one where she gets hurt on a hunt and tired to play it off until they get back to the bunker and when dean patches her up it hurts more then she thought, so she starts crying and Dean comforts her and is all cute and sweet? I love your writing btw!!”

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: angst, injury, blood, fluff, comfort, kissing

Hurt. You got hurt on that hunt and you weren’t quite sure how you talked yourself out of it with Dean. Maybe you actually did, but a part of you told you that was more than likely impossible. Not with the look he gave you or the glance he spared down at your leg. But he seemingly took your word for it at that very moment.

Your eyes squeezed shut for a moment as you took a breath, trying your hardest to make it to the Impala sitting just a few feet away. Every ounce of pressure on your leg made it ache all the more as you walked, walked like you insisted you could do to a persistent Dean the moment he saw the look on your face. But you told him you were fine, staving his worries with a smile and a witty counter that had a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

It was fine, so long as you kept your weight off of it as much as possible until you could clean yourself up, it’d be fine. At least that’s what you’d told yourself.

You were relieved once you’d slipped in the front seat after Dean suggested you sit up there with him, Sam in the back, a quiet sigh leaving your lips as you slumped back against the leather seat. The fabric of your jeans over the wound on your thigh had been frayed on the brink of being ripped, but not enough to draw your eye should you be anyone but yourself or Dean Winchester. Stains of crimson hadn’t been visible on the dark denim material, but you were sure it’d be obvious the moment they came off.

As you sat, you felt that ache on your leg begin to lighten some, that pain shooting down it dissipating now that you hadn’t been standing on it.

It shouldn’t be that bad, not really, you’d snagged it along the edge of something sharp when that demon had thrown you with so much as a flick of her hand. You were sore overall, something a hot bath might help with when you make it back to the bunker. But you’d yet to see your leg, to see just what damage lay beneath your jeans.

“You sure you’re okay, sweetheart?” Dean asked, pulling your attention from your thoughts.

You looked to your left, Dean’s gaze shifting from the road to look at you for a moment or two before looking ahead.

“‘M fine, De,” you murmur, that aching burn on your thigh threatening to spill over your emotions and give you away in an instant.

He looks at you again in a lingering glance, his lips pursed in disbelief, brows furrowing at the way you looked down at your leg with a frown, or the way you brushed your thumb over that very spot you said was nothing. He saw how your lips twitched downward in a deeper frown for only a mere second, quickly brushing it off with a sigh and a bite to the inside of your cheek before he looked forward once more.

You knew, by the light tension in his jaw and the crease between his brows, you knew he could see there was more to it than that.

After a moment or two you scooted a little closer to him, your hand grabbing his own. He felt the way you brushed your thumb along his knuckles in an absentminded habit, your gaze fixed out the window in an attempt to set your attention on anything other than the burning feeling that simmered on your skin.

It was okay. You were fine.

Your hand hadn’t left Dean’s nearly the entirety of the trip, something he noticed and something he didn’t mind, something that had him smiling softly at the mere thought of it. But something that was just as quick to steal that smile was the very look on your face each and every time he glanced over at you, a slight frown on your lips that you weren’t even aware you had, and that crease between your brows very much there.

You sighed when he parked in the bunker’s garage that night, getting out before he could come and help you do it. The look on his face was evident that he wasn’t happy with that, those dimples appearing by the corners of his mouth as he looked at you over the roof of the car.

“I’m fine, Dean,” you say, meeting him and Sam at the trunk where you’d grabbed your bags.

“You say that every time, sweetheart,” he counters.

“Maybe this time you’ll take my word for it,” you say, brows raised as you put your bag over your shoulder.

He chuckles then, head shaking as he closes the trunk. You tried your best to be convincing, and so far he hadn’t pried, but that very same feeling was back now that you were up and walking around, pressure back on your leg seemingly worse than before.

You found yourself grateful that Dean had chosen to walk ahead, Sam beside you, making it just a little easier to hide the change in the way you walked. Just enough to get you to your shared room without being terribly obvious. But it hurt, it hurt more and it was becoming increasingly more apparent to you.

You were home, and that’s what made things a bit better for you. You weren’t in some motel anymore, weren’t in the Impala anymore, you were home in the comfort of your familiar place with your room, your bed, and Dean. Despite the nagging pain wearing away at you with every movement of your leg, you tried not to think about it that much, and tried not to think about how it’d feel upon taking your jeans off. How it’d look given that you haven’t even seen it yet.

Dean dimmed the lights in the hall and bid Sam a goodnight like he always did, twisting the knob to your shared room and pushing the door open. Everything was as you’d left it just three days prior, the bed still made and ready to climb in and Dean’s slippers still tucked halfway under the bed, his pajama pants still slung over the back to the small desk chair.

“There’s no place like home,” Dean chuckles, sighing as he drops his duffel bag on the floor at the foot of the bed right next to yours.

You watched as he untied his boots and stepped out of them, unease settling over you as you took your own boots off, fighting the urge to scrunch up your face at the way your jeans pressed into your leg as you bent down.

You couldn’t hide this from him forever, you don’t think that’s possible when you really think about it. But you still weren’t willing to give it up, you could see the look on his face already if he knew. So, you bit the inside of your cheek and shrugged off your jacket, eyeing him with a soft sigh.

“I’m gonna go shower before bed,” you say, smiling when he turns to face you.

He simply hums, dipping down to kiss you.

“Don’t be too long,” he murmurs against your lips, pulling back with a grin.

“Is it ‘cause you’ll miss me too much, Winchester?” You ask, brow raising in amusement.

You watch as the corner of his mouth quirks upwards, a laugh leaving his lips as he nods to himself, tugging back the blankets on the bed. It very much was the reason and he knew it, no matter how much Sam picks on him for it all in good fun, he just can’t help it.

“That’s exactly why,” he says, tossing a clean flannel of his your way along with a pair of boxers because he knows just how much you love to wear them to bed. Doesn’t even need you to tell him that very fact because he sees you snag a pair from his drawer every night without a care that he’ll see you stealing them either.

You stand there for a moment more as you look at him, your smile soft and fond as you hold the clothes in your hands. After that moment, you find it in yourself to turn on your heel and step into the hall, heading towards the bathroom. Your heart was bursting with the very thought of him sharing his clothes with you, of the very idea that he’d been so thoughtful, but the wound on your leg was making it awfully difficult to think about anything other than that.

You switched the light on and closed the door behind you, setting the clothes down on the counter. You turned the faucet on and stuck your hands under the tap, the water cold as it splashed across your face. It was a little more refreshing than you felt before it, soothing the fatigue that’d been settling over you only temporarily.

Dread simmered in the pit of your stomach at the thought of having to take off your jeans, but it wasn’t doing you any good to keep them on.

You exhaled a sigh, eyes squeezing shut as you hooked your fingers in your belt loops. It was fine until you got about halfway, and you found yourself fighting the urge to let out the cry that’s been sitting in the back of your throat, the feel of the rough material scraping over your thigh making it all the more difficult to stifle it.

It was then that you saw it, the blood smudged over your leg and the scrape that ran across your skin, angry and red as it tapered just above your knee. You ran your hands down your face at the sight of it, having been less than ideal but you knew it couldn’t have been good.

You kicked the dirtied jeans to the side in frustration, sighing as you opened the cabinet below the sink. You snagged the first aid kit and the bottle of peroxide just next to it, grabbing a clean wash rag.

This could have been avoided, maybe, but at that moment you were struggling to figure out just how it could have been. Demons were unpredictable, able to sense a trick with ease, able to tell when someone’s lurking with the intent to leave one less demon in the world. They give ample opportunities to be outsmarted, though, but this didn’t seem to be one of those times. There was no match for a human against the powers they hold save for the weapons that served you no use that day. You were thrown clear across the room without a beat of hesitation, something done with ease.

So maybe, just maybe it wasn’t avoidable this time.

You knew Dean saw it, he had to. It was more than obvious that there’d be repercussions to being thrown a good seven feet into a less than unforgiving cabinet. He knew you better than to believe that you were as fine as you say you were. He knows you like the back of his hand, can see your stubbornness from a mile away because he’s the very same.

You wet the wash rag at the sink, taking a seat on the bench by the showers. You began to blot away the blood, nose scrunching and eyes squinting as the burn of the jagged scrape worsened from it.

It was then that there was a knock on the door, a more than familiar voice on the other side.

“Sweetheart? ‘M coming in, I forgot to—”

Your eyes widen as the door opens, gaze meeting green eyes before his stare shifts downwards to the rag in your hand, splotches of a pale crimson staining it. They bounce to the source, to the irritated and red scrape dragging along the outside of your thigh, nearly classifying as a cut but not quite.

“Y/n.”

“Dean, it’s not—”

“What, ‘it’s not a big deal’?” He says, anger seeping into his tone. Not at you, never. It was when he thought back to that hunt that has him angry.

“Dean,” you sigh.

He’s quick to cross the tiled floor, kneeling in front of you. He nudges your knee with his hand gently, the tips of his fingers brushing along your skin. You saw the crease between his brows deepen, lips parted as his eyes bounced over the entirety of the wound on your leg. You can see the way his jaw tenses, tight and unwavering and if it were possible, steam would be coming out of his ears at that moment.

“Damn it, Y/n,” he says quietly, a frustrated huff leaving his lips. “You didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to freak out,” you reason, brows furrowing as you tilt your head to the side slightly.

His gaze narrows up at you in disapproval, your reasoning something that was near laughable to him, you even knew it was ridiculous too the moment the words fell from your lips.

“You can bet I’ll freak out,” he says, his chuckle humorless as he runs his hand down his face. “This is exactly why I didn’t want us to split up.”

“Well, we did.”

He bit the inside of his cheek as he looked at you, breathing out a huff through his nose. He was upset more than anything, with himself you could tell, could see the frown on his lips as he grabbed the wash cloth from your hand and picked up where you left off.

He was gentle as he wiped away the dirt and blood smeared around it, more so than you despite the white-knuckled grip he’s got on the tattered cloth. You tried to keep your attention on anything else, anything other than the way your leg had been so sensitive even the most mild of touches as hurt. You tried to keep your gaze on him, distract yourself with the abundance of freckles speckled across the bridge of his nose and over his cheeks.

They were easy to distract yourself with on any given occasion, on times where you didn’t need to be distracted, when you shouldn’t be. But for the life of you, you couldn’t bring yourself to get lost in counting them this time, not with the numbing pain serving as a painful way of keeping you fixated on just that.

“You should have told me,” he says quietly, residual anger still wrapped around his tone with the softness of his words. But he was more concerned than angry.

You puffed out a humorless laugh through your nose, your grip on the bench you sat on tightening some. “I’m not exactly jumping at the idea of running to my boyfriend every time I get hurt on a hunt.”

Your tone is frustrated, embarrassment simmering in the pit of your stomach over the current situation you were in, not to mention the way it happened. You’d never get taken seriously if you ran and cried to Dean each and every time you got hurt. You barely felt like an adequate hunter as it is, you didn’t want to add to it. You would have been fine if he hadn’t seen it.

“Y/n, this isn’t some puny little paper cut, okay? This is way different than just slapping a bandaid on it and kissin’ it better.”

“I said I’m fine, Dean,” you say, jaw tensing as you look away.

You hated the way your voice was beginning to falter, swallowing thickly in hopes to push down the persistent lump in your throat. Now was not the time to cry, not in front of him. That would only make matters worse and you don’t think you could handle that.

“It doesn’t make you weak to ask for help, not even a little bit. You don’t have to play the tough guy act all the time.”

You stay quiet as you continue to look away from him, the pressure building behind your eyes. When you glance down you see he’s got that dreaded bottle in his hand, popping the cap open with his thumb. He’s hesitant as he tips the bottle, the clear peroxide having poured steadily over every inch of the wound on your leg, bubbling and stinging the moment it touches the damaged skin.

You felt your lip begin to quiver, near uncontrollable as it throbbed and burned, the pain worse than you thought as you bit down on your lip. It was almost unbearable, a numbing kind of pain that brought heat to your cheeks and quickened your heart. That pressure behind your eyes increased then until you just couldn’t handle it, lip free from your teeth as you hid your cry in your shoulder.

But it turns out, you’re not that good at hiding, not from Dean Winchester. Not that it was very hard to notice either.

He stopped immediately, gaze flickering to you, cheeks wet with hot tears and lip quivering in a way that tugged at his heart. His hand settled on your cheek, a gentle nudge to get you to look at him.

“Sweetheart,” he starts, the fond nickname something that makes you cry all the more in that moment.

You wrap your arms around him and he settles back a bit as he holds you closer, brows furrowed and jaw tense because seeing you so upset is one thing he can’t handle. Seeing you cry is something that tears him to shreds every time.

His grip on you is tight, his stubble pressing into the side of your neck. He’s cautious of bumping your leg, his throat clearing to try and stave off that pressure constricting around his throat from that very same lump forming as it did you. You could feel the kiss he pressed to your cheek, one to your temple, lingering and sweet. Dean Winchester could be the gruffest man anyone’s ever seen, but he’s got the softest heart, and if there’s one thing he can do without fail it’s comfort.

He finds himself pulling back when you loosen your grip, lip still wobbly as ever as you look at him with glossy eyes. You wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand, cheeks that burn with embarrassment for crying even though he didn’t mind it in the slightest. He didn’t mind the tears on his shirt, didn’t mind the snot to go with it. That’s the least of his concerns, they all pale in comparison to you.

“It hurts,” you whisper, your gaze shifting to his at the feel of his hand on your cheek, calloused and warm.

“I know it does, baby. Hell, I couldn’t even imagine what that feels like,” he says, smiling softly. “But ‘m almost finished and the ugly part is over, I can promise you that. You just gotta let me take care of you, okay?”

You nod, the patience in his words having set you at ease as you sniff, wiping your tears once more when his hand falls from your face in favor of sorting through bandages. He comes up with a few cotton pads, laying them over the length of the freshly cleaned wound as you sit there, still sniffling from having cried.

He’s more than careful as he takes the roll of gauze and wraps it around your thigh, securing the bandages completely with care to not make it too tight before he tucks in the loose end.

“You’re good as new, sweetheart,” he says, looking up at you.

You flash him a look, biting the inside of your cheek as you laugh softly, not quite humorous. “I’d hardly call it that.”

You’re grumbling, but he takes that hint of a smile as a good thing, standing halfway to press a kiss on your cheek and one to your lips, another to your forehead as his hand brushes over your cheek before he stands fully and swipes the clean clothes from the counter.

You stand with a look of unease, trying your best to keep the pressure on your good leg before that dreadful pain can jolt up your other. You shrug off your shirt in favor of his flannel, the soft material hanging loosely from your shoulders in a heap of warm and fabric softener and a hint of his cologne. It’s a simple thing that amounts to more comfort than you can express, the mere feeling of it putting you at ease.

He helps you with your pajama bottoms, trying not to fuss over you as you did it yourself, instead offering his arm for your balance that you found yourself needing more than you thought.

Your bed was more comfortable than you’d imagined coming home to, leaps and bounds better than that motel mattress. The sheets were soft and they too smelled like Dean, the blankets warm and hefty as they rested over top of you.

Dean brought you close enough to nearly share a pillow, the events transpiring earlier that day on the hunt having sunken deep in the pit of his stomach and simmered there, bringing with it that anger that hadn’t quite left. It made his stomach twist and churn each and every time you got hurt, the blame he put on himself having picked at him every single time without fail. Especially when it brings you to tears, especially when it’s got you so bothered it’s got you crying into his shoulder.

He hates it, he hates that part of hunting.

But regardless, those kind green eyes meet your gaze as he looks at you with a soft smile, his fingertips brushing along your cheek. He’s got that look on his face, one that’s telling of something humorous sitting on the tip of his tongue just waiting to be spoken.

“What, De?” You sigh, feeling the residual tension of your tears beginning to dissolve just a little more.

He chuckles, looking down for a moment as he shakes his head. “If I were you, ‘think I might’ve cried way sooner than you did.”

You roll your eyes then, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Dean, that’s a lie and you know it.”

“Is not,” he insists, lips pursed to stifle his smile.

You look at him, tired and amused as you make no effort to hide your smile. He’s got that smile, that one that makes your cheeks burn and your heart flutter every time he looks at you like that.

“Whatever you say, Winchester,” you sigh, leaning up and pressing a kiss to his lips.

You find yourself lying atop his chest as he turns the tv up a little bit more, his chuckle rumbling against you. He tossed the remote down, the very tip of your finger tracing over his chest. Your legs tangle with his own, your injured one on top as you turn a bit more on your side. He’s got reruns of your favorite show on because he knows you’re too tired to watch the new ones, knows you like to have it on when you fall asleep.

“Goodnight, De,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his chin before sinking back down on his chest.

He smiles in that moment, soft and sweet as his thumb brushes back and forth over your shoulder lightly.

“Night, sweetheart.”

You’re fine. You’ve got him and you’re okay.

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @agalliasi @deandaydreaming @campingmonkey @lanea-1 @akshi8278 @kidd3ath @taikawho

[the-infamous-coat-of-baron-zemo]

Fall Into You | Laszlo Kreizler x Reader

Alright my friends. Here is my latest piece of insanity.

It is completely raw and unedited. So, if there are a ton of mistakes, I apologize in advance.

What a whirlwind thing this was. I literally only planned to write the last little bit at the end, that was the entire premise and then 7000 more words came along with it.

-----

This is a partial crossover fic.

TFATWS | The Alienist | Dr. Strange | Loki | universe all mushed together in bits and pieces.

But mostly The Alienist.

Hopefully the characterizations feel okay. Dr. Kreizler and John Moore can be a bit tricky to write and I've never written them before. So, please bear with me on this.

Buckle up. It's going to be a doozy. Kinda.

-----

Word Count: 6,900 - ish

What happens when you wind up 124 years into the past and meet a relative of Baron Helmut Zemo's?

A lot.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It was early evening and you were perched on one of Dr. Kreizler's fine couches, in front of the fireplace, reading a book.

You were waiting for Stevie to drop by and drag you to some musical street performance not terribly far from Dr. Kreizler's residence. Normally, you would have stayed hidden indoors, but you took a liking to the kid when you first met him, and decided you couldn't let him down.

Hopefully Stevie wouldn't drag you out too long, otherwise Dr. Kreizler would start to worry. Although, he would never outright admit to it, but it was the subtle things he did that indicated his concern. Or perhaps it was annoyance. That wouldn't surprise you either. You were loud and very talkative. He'd probably grateful to have to leave his house; so he can finally get some peace and quiet.

Dr. Kreizler always kept to himself and rarely made a display of his feelings to anyone, but you were a good friend of his in the short time you had come to know him. So, you got little peeks into what lay hidden away.

He was gracious enough to allow you stay in his home until you could figure out a way to get back to your own time. One minute you were talking to Wong inside Dr. Strange's sanctum in New York, and the next a portal opened up underneath you and you were falling.

After travelling through an empty void that seemed to go on forever, you finally exited through the other side, which landed you in front of a police precinct. You had looked around after picking yourself up and realized you were in quite the pickle. It didn't take a genius to figure out that this was not your New York.

People were starting to stare at as you took in your surroundings. You initially thought it was because you had randomly fallen out of the sky, but realization had dawned on you; it was because of your clothing.

Ah, yes. You suppose compared to what all the other women were wearing, you were a sight to behold. Jeans, a forest green blouse, and short brown leather jacket, would draw some attention, when all the other women were dressed so conservatively in dresses. You laughed nervously backing away from the small crowd on the sidewalk. You calmly but quickly darted over to a newsie holding up a paper for sale.

You paid the kid a dollar and snatched the paper out of his hand. Not paying attention in the least to his shouts of joy on making so much off of one measly paper, but you were too focused on finding out what time period you were in.

You caught the date at the top of the newspaper: April 1st, 1897.

April Fool's Day.

Typical, something like this would happen to you. Joke's on them, as someone is going to have a hell of time trying to figure out where you went. You're quite sure Wong was trying to sort through what happened and had already calling Strange.

Well, you hope he had.

You put down the paper and tried to think of what to do, but a small crowd of people were still stopped and whispering to each other, pointing in your general direction.

One man was gesturing in your direction and started shouting, but not at you.

"Hey Kreizler, this one looks like a crazy. Should probably haul her off to Bellevue!"

You raised your eyebrow at the man, but didn't say anything, instead choosing to turn and see who he was yelling at.

A very well dressed man wearing a bowler hat was walking down the steps of the police precinct in a rushed sort of manner. He had a cane with him, and it appeared his right arm was tucked against his body as if protecting it. A few steps behind him there was another man darting to catch up with him, also well dressed and carrying what seemed to be a sketchbook.

The guy on the street had yelled at the gentleman in the bowler hat again, which you had assumed at this point was Dr. Kreizler. As the two men reached the bottom of the steps and were about to step into their carriage, the incessant yelling had managed to grab Kreizler's attention. At least it seemed so, because the man with the cane had paused and turned his attention towards the direction of the yelling.

You could see from his body language he wasn't all that interested, but when his eye-line landed on you, he backed away from getting inside.

The other gentleman that was accompanying him, the one with the sketchbook, said something to him, but Dr. Kreizler just waved him off as he started to walk over to you.

Great.

You look over to the rude gentleman that had now drawn even more attention to you and gave him an unappreciative stare.

You steeled yourself, ready for whatever this stranger was going to say to you, but your guard had dropped slightly upon getting a better look at his face.

No way.

This was not possible.

The man that had come over to you was the spitting image of one genius, criminal mastermind and general pain in your ass, you knew all too well. One who's currently locked up in The Raft.

If it wasn't for the beard, you'd swear you were looking at Baron Helmut Zemo.

As Dr. Kreizler stopped a few feet from you, he tilted his head to the side and eyed you warily, but not unkindly.

That head tilt, a family trait for sure. Zemo had to be some distant relative of this man in some way, there's no chance they aren't with how closely the two resemble each other. She'd have to make a trip to The Raft and ask him about it sometime, if she ever got back home.

"My dear, you seem out of sorts. Are you alright?" the man inquired, gazing at the small gathering of people and then back to you.

"I kinda stick out like a sore thumb, yeah?" You laughed as you answer his question, peering down at your outfit.

"Quite," he replied.

You saw while he may be cautious around you, you've seem to grab his interest with the scrutiny and intensity of his gaze.

"If I may introduce myself, my name is Doctor Laszlo Kreizler," the gentleman stated.

Ah, so this was indeed the man who was being called out from the street. You noticed he didn't extend his hand in greeting, but then again perhaps it wasn't a pertinent gesture for the time period either. So, you didn't take offense to it.

Your eyeline moved behind Dr. Kreizler and could see his friend at the carriage watching with interest, but also growing impatience.

You gave a kind smile as you introduced yourself and added, "Thank you for humoring the nosy man over there, but I'm not in need of a doctor. I'm terribly sorry for interrupting your day."

"Not in the least. And I may be a doctor, but I am an alienist more specifically," Kreizler explained.

Your eyebrows shot into your forehead and then contemplated his title. An alienist? Where had you heard that before? If you remembered correctly, an alienist was someone who assessed individuals for competence?

Oh.

The shouty man had mentioned Bellevue. Okay, now you understood.

"An alienist! That term is...." you paused trying to think of a better way to phrase you response. "The term is outdated where I'm from. Instead we simply acknowledge your specific doctorate profession as psychologists, since the very definition of what you do is to study the mind and behavior of individuals," you answered, satisfied with your explanation.

"Outdated. How intriguing. Perhaps we could continue this conversation away from prying eyes and gossipy busy-bodies?" Kreizler asked.

You wouldn't be able to read it on his face, but you can tell you've piqued his interest even more so now with his body language. And his eyes had this sparkle in them as you spoke of his profession so specifically.

Though you felt you could trust this man, you couldn't take the chance that he might, in fact, lure you into his carriage and ship you off to the nearest mental institution, such as Bellevue Hospital.

You'd be lying if you weren't equally intrigued by this enigma of a man standing before you. The resemblance to Baron Zemo was uncanny, and that alone made you want to find out more about him; however, Zemo was not to be trusted as far as you could throw him. Though he did have his moments. You'd give him some credit. Doesn't mean distrustful behavior runs in the family, but it also could. It was a difficult decision.

Your eyes narrowed assessing Dr. Kreizler as you came to decision.

"Shouldn't you give me a mental health assessment test before asking a complete stranger to travel off to who knows where with you? Why shouldn't I be suspicious you aren't going to drop me off at the nearest institute? No offense," you replied warily.

"Thank you!" the man with the sketchbook at the carriage shouted at both you and Dr. Kreizler, clearly in agreement with your answer.

You snickered at his sarcastic reply, but attempted to cover your ever growing smile by coughing.

The corner of Dr. Kreizler's mouth ticked up in a smile as well.

"No my dear, if anything you've just proven you're at least slightly more sane than my counterpart, Mr. John Moore," Dr. Kreizler shook his head and jutted his thumb behind him.

"Heard that Laszlo!" Moore responded with indignation.

"That was the point John," Dr. Kreizler answered back with dry wit.

Yeah, she liked him already.

"Shall we?" Kreizler turned slightly to gesture to his carriage.

You sighed internally. Why the hell not? You had nothing better to do and no idea what your next move should be trying to get home. Dr. Kreizler would no doubt be curious about your attire and that alone with most likely bring up a slew of never ending questions. You'd have to be careful how to explain your situation and make sure what you revealed was limited, but truthful. You wanted to tell him the truth about where you were from, but you needed to word it in a way that doesn't make you out to be a crazy person, but present the information with facts and evidence that Dr. Kreizler could not refute. Luckily you had some tech with you that could prove your point rather efficiently should the need arise you convince him of what time period you come from in the future. 124 years it a length period of time. It would be difficult for anyone to accept your explanation, but Dr. Kreizler seemed to be different. Let's hope you aren't wrong about him.

"I accept your offer Dr. Kreizler, thank you," you spoke kindly.

You were formally introduced to Mr. Moore and to Stevie before getting in the carriage. Mr. Moore seemed uneasy, but went along with Dr. Kreizler's acceptance of you. He was a trusting friend of his, you could tell right away. And something told you, Dr. Kreizler was a tough nut to crack and didn't seem to be the type of person who might have very many. Only a close few.

"What made you decide to take Dr. Kreizler up on his offer so quickly," Moore asked standing outside the carriage as Stevie was getting the horses ready.

Dr. Kreizler had held the door open for you and waited patiently.

You looked at Dr. Kreizler before turning back to Mr. Moore, "You mean besides his sparkling personality?" you winked and got in the carriage.

John leaned into Kreizler before adjusting his hold on his sketchbook and climbing into the carriage himself.

"Oh, well I like her already Laszlo," he grinned incessantly and gave Kreizler a clap on the back.

You saw Dr. Kreizler bend his head down in amused exasperation as a small huff of laughter sounded with the movement. He sighed somewhat dramatically before getting in the carriage and closing the door.

"You know, I've never actually ridden in one of these before," you say slightly awed.

Both Moore and Kreizler gave you confusing looks before Dr. Kreizler used his cane to tap on the rear enclosure signaling Stevie to head home.

Home. Well, this should be interesting indeed.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

You closed your book with a snap and slumped into the couch you were perched on. It had been six months, since that day. Six months, you've been trapped in this pocket of 1897.

You had reflected back on how well John and Dr. Kreizler had taken the explanation you were from the future. As you told your story, your only requirement was that they wait until the very end before asking any questions. That gave you the chance to be very methodical about how you explained the future and how it was you ended up in 1897, which to be fair, you don't know exactly how that portal opened still, but magic was involved to say the very least.

It was oddly reminiscent of when Loki used the space stone, which gave her pause. All the infinity stones had been destroyed, and yet you knew that there was an errant 2012 Loki running around the universe with one. It is plausible, he could factor into this, but how or why you, you have no idea.

After you had explained your fanatical circumstance, to help prove you weren't absolutely off your rocker and have Dr. Kreizler change his mind about you, you showed them your phone.

Yes, there may not be any service available, but you could still access all your photos and videos and holographic imagery, etc. That was what allowed John and Dr. Kreizler to accept your story; paired with your unique clothes; they had a surprisingly open mind. John had gaped like a fish for a good 10 minutes before Dr. Kreizler told him to get over it already. John was somewhat outraged that he wasn't more shocked by your existence. But like all things, Dr. Kreizler took everything in stride, which was quite a relief to you. He was incredibly understanding and offered a room in his home to you until you were able to get back to your own time. You made a promise to Dr. Kreizler that you would never lie to him, about anything. It was the least you could do since he opened up his home and essentially part of his life to you.

You understood why he was an expert in his field. His patience and intellect allowed him to be open-minded and grasp concepts others word merely scoff at. However, there was another side to that coin; he was also closed off, and could at times, be calculating and manipulative. Though, none of these traits were used in any nefarious manners, they were there all the same.

He reminded you of Zemo to be sure in this regard. Some personality traits apparently do get passed down through the generations. In some ways, after meeting Dr. Kreizler, you felt you knew Helmut Zemo a bit better. And somehow, you missed him. Not that you were ever particularly close to him, but the time you spent with him in Latvia with Sam and Bucky forever altered your opinion of him.

So while you've been living at Dr. Kreizler's residence, in your spare time, you had been working different avenues of how to achieve ways to get home. You couldn't just solely rely on your friends to get you out of this mess. So, while Dr. Kreizler was at work, you enlisted the help of Stevie to run down leads of potential scientist and gathering of general information of the time period to help you put together some sort of road map. None had turned out to be very promising.

You had, over time, gotten more acclimated to living in 1897, though you mostly refused to wear the clothing of the time period. John Moore would always comment about how you would draw attention in the public eye, should you dare to go out. But you refused to give in most of the time, saying that 1897 would just have to catch up to your fashion sense, and you weren't about to apologize for it. If you were going to be stuck here, you were going to be stuck here, comfortably. You fondly remember Dr. Kreizler's reaction. He seemed pleased, possibly proud of you in that moment. Probably because you had refused to conform to the times, and set your own rules to live by. Not giving in to anyone.

The question lingered, how exactly did you get away with living in this time without having to dress in the clothing of the period? Well, a friend of yours, Scott Lang, had gifted you a device that allowed you to chose one object to shrink and return to it's normal size. So, of course, since you traveled so often with the Sam, Bucky and the other Avengers, you chose your wardrobe. You were just thankful you had it on you already when you got dumped into that portal. So, essentially you had all your clothes with you, making things a bit easier.

Life was not fast paced here, which made things a bit difficult for you. You were used to always being on the go, another crisis to fight through, another area of the world that needed help. But here, here everything was, for the most part, quiet.

It drove you nuts sometimes. Made you antsy. You managed to weasel your way into helping John, Sara and Dr. Kreizler on one of their serial killer cases recently to pass the time. Dr. Kreizler was unhappy at first. You were able to prove your usefulness though with advanced techniques and theories on how to potentially catch the killer in question. Be that as it may, Dr. Kreizler still seemed grumpy, if that were the correct word to use, about you working on the case. You confronted him about it one evening, but he glossed over the whole thing. He was holding back, but what that was, you weren't sure. Maybe he still didn't fully trust you yet. It was a fair assumption, but he was always so hard to read. Though you've managed to get a few good laughs out of him from time to time. Those were the days that really made you smile. Seeing him happy, as most of the time he was always so guarded. It made you feel like you and Dr. Kreizler shared this little secret when no one else was around.

Dr. Kreizler let himself relax ever so slightly around you, but it was far and fleeting. On rare occasions. You savored all those memories and tucked them away. Everyone was so refined and conservative in their mannerisms. You missed just wanting to hug someone. You craved some sort of physical affection, and it was hard, realizing just how different the times were from the future. They weren't terrible by any means, but the social norms of the times had been trying on you, to say the very least. Dr. Kreizler, ever astute, had picked up on this.

He had been gracious enough to offer himself if you ever needed to hug someone. This had been roughly 4 months into your stay at Dr. Kreizler's. You both had gotten more comfortable around the other, and even had a routine of sorts. You had thanked him for his offer, and told him you would not abuse the privilege he had bestowed on you.

Something told her there was more to it, but you hadn't dwelled on it, you were simply appreciative of his friendship.

However more recently, it was more than just friendship you felt. You kept squashing your feelings down, telling yourself this was the worst possible time to develop feelings for someone. Especially someone like Dr. Kreizler. There would never be a happy ending. At some point, you would return home, and that would be that. But there was that nagging sensation in the back of your mind, reminding you, you might not ever get back home. You tried to reason to yourself that you were possibly transferring some of your fondness of Zemo to Dr. Kreizler because of how he reminds you of him. But then you were just lying to yourself. Dr. Kreizler was a person all on his own and one of a kind. You knew better, you were just fighting yourself tooth and nail to live in denial a bit longer.

Footsteps from the kitchen were headed in your direction knocking you out of your musings.

You twisted on the couch to see Dr. Kreizler had returned home from his institute.

"Dr. Kreizler! Good evening," you voiced into the low lit parlor room.

"Good evening to you as well, I trust your day was fruitful?" Dr. Kreizler inquired, coming to rest on the opposite end of the couch.

"It was, thank you. I was somewhat restless earlier, so I took it upon myself to work on the cryptogram the killer left his last victim, with the hopes of figuring out his next location before he strikes," you sheepishly stated.

Dr. Kreizler ruefully smiled at you and shook his head. At one time, he might have gotten upset, but he had been taking your antics more in stride, and you managed to be helpful providing much needed information. So, he'd act unhappy, but silently was thrilled.

"And did you uncover anything useful?" Kreizler queried, he got up from his seat and walked over to the chalk board.

"Not completely, I believe I've broken the code word and the book that the killer has been using to write his cryptograms, but I have yet to comb through all the evidence to gather the page numbers, line and word number to crack the full message. I planned on working on it when I got back with Stevie later this evening," you happily expressed while fidgeting with the watch on your wrist.

"Impressive work. And what book has our killer been using?" Kreizler asked, eyes still going over the work on the board.

"Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. You'd think we could have figured that one out sooner given our killer's eclectic methods of murdering people," you answered sarcastically.

Dr. Kreizler bent his knees in utter annoyance, "Of course it is. Of course. How ridiculous to have missed such an obvious choice."

You smiled knowingly. He was irritated he hadn't figured it out sooner.

A companionable silence continued for a few minutes after his outburst.

Dr. Kreizler was still staring at the board with mild interest when he spoke next, "May I ask you a personal question?"

You had just reached over to place the book on the coffee table next to you when he asked his question and you froze mid motion.

Dr. Kreizler generally didn't push too much into your personal life, so this was somewhat out of left field for him. Never-the-less, you recovered after a beat and placed the book on the table.

"Of-of course Dr. Kreizler. I told you I would always be truthful with you regarding anything. Please, go ahead," you answered, motioning for him to continue.

"Why do you always regard me as Dr. Kreizler and not by my first name?" he questioned softly, almost hesitantly.

This was not the question you thought he would ask. There were a million questions he could have chose, but it was this one he went with.

This really was personal.

You glanced down at your hands sitting in your lap as you pondered how to answer his questions. You could lie about it, and he'd be none the wiser, but it's not who you are. And you promised.

Dr. Kreizler went on to further express his inquiry with a bit more confidence, "You call John Moore by his first name and the same with Ms. Howard, including our other friends we work with, but not me. Why?"

You opened your mouth to answer him when the front door slammed open and Stevie came barging in.

"You ready?" he exclaimed loudly. Stevie was clearly excited at the prospect of showing off his musical talent. "Oh, excuse me Dr. Kreizler, I didn't realize you'd gotten home yet. Thought you were working late," Stevie took off his hat and looked sheepish as he apologized for the disruption in his home.

You sighed. This was your saving grace. You could probably make an excuse and make a run for it with Stevie. You mulled over what to do, battling with the decision.

"Hey Stevie. Nice to see you too! Go on outside, I'll be right there. I just need to put my coat on," you laugh at his enthusiasm.

He nodded at you and dashed back down the hallway and out the door. You could hear one last shout as he exited, "Okay, but don't be too long, we're going to be late!"

Dr. Kreizler gave a look of displeasure at Stevie's unrefined outburst, but didn't say anything as he knows his antics all too well from over the years.

You stood up grabbing Dr. Kreizler's attention.

"Walk me to the door?" you ask, jutting your head in the direction of where your coat hangs.

"Do you plan on providing me with an answer?" he kindly jabbed as he nodded his agreement to follow you out.

You outwardly sighed, trying to figure out how to best answer his question. As you both walked to the front door, you start to answer him.

"Okay, so I address you as Dr. Kreizler 33% of the time, because you deserve the respect that comes with that title. You went to school for many years, and you earned it. So, it's only fair to address you as such," you tell him confidently.

A completely reasonable and partial explanation, you thought.

You both reached the front door, and you grabbed your jacket. Dr. Kreizler, the gentleman that he is, assisted you in putting your coat on. You gave yourself a once over in the mirror, making sure you looked okay before heading out.

You caught Dr. Kreizler staring at you in the mirror as you adjusted a stray hair that had fallen onto your face.

"You look lovely," he quietly voiced.

You turned to face him as he had opened the door for you and stepped outside.

"Thank you," you said, a bit bashful by his sudden compliment.

His expression had gotten softer and his eyes were glowing in the evening lit night.

Your resolve was crumbling even more so now.

"And the other 67%?" Kreizler softly spoke, head cocked to the side.

"Hey - Miss! We need to be going!" Stevie cried.

You turned to Stevie and hollered, "One mo, Stevie! Don't lose your head!"

"I'm sorry I have to go otherwise Stevie is going to have a coronary," you apologized to Dr. Kreizler.

You walked down a few steps, but stopped. You couldn't not answer him.

You go up a step but not completely back to where you where standing in front of Dr. Kreizler. You inhaled a deep breath and exhaled before continuing, looking up to see Dr. Kreizler eyeing you with slight confusion and anticipation with your hesitance to answer his question in full.

"And the other 67% of the time, I call you Dr. Kreizler because..because," you drifted off closing your eyes. You open them again with quiet resolve shining through, finding your confidence. You take another step up to now stand just a foot away from where Dr. Kreizler was.

"Because, I love you Laszlo. And I use your professional title as a barrier, to - to remind myself I have boundaries. It's just easier to separate you this way or well, to keep myself living in denial," you quietly and defeatedly said, laying it all out for him.

You wanted to open your mouth to say something else to him, to let him know it was okay he didn't feel the same way, but you could never quite form the words that needed to come out.

The shock was written clearly on his face. You had completely gob-smacked this man. His eyes had widened considerably and his jaw had gone slack from your answer.

But he never said anything back. You weren't expecting him to.

So instead, you did what you did best. Ran.

"You've got your answer. I-I really have to go now, I'll see you later," you stuttered out, suddenly drained from your revelation.

You took one last glance at Dr. Kreizler before making a mad dash for it with Stevie.

You were gone before Dr. Kreizler recovered from what just happened. And you never got to see the expression on his face after.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[keyboardink]

“oblivious” [part one]

[ part one / part two ]

kairi has a crush on her best friend, but she doesn’t seem to notice.

pairing: kairi “valkyrie” imahara x reader / media: apex legends

genre: angst & fluff / word count: 1.1k / rating: pg / warnings: none :)

a/n: @multifandombtchedits requested “a fic based off the first time Valkyrie or the reader says “I love you”!” and i ran with it. this was originally supposed to just be fluffy and only have like 1k words MAX but... i’m me and i can’t help adding some angst into the mix lol. part two will be up tomorrow. in the meantime, if you like this check out more of my writing here!

She had known it for a real long time.

She saw the way you laughed at her jokes, the way you smiled whenever she took a picture of you. She saw the way you would dress on a lazy day and how it seemed like almost a completely different person from how you looked when you dressed up for a formal event. She saw the expression that would paint your face when you were focused on something important to you. She sneaked peeks at you when you weren't looking or paying attention, glancing sideways moment after moment. She kept all these little snippets in her head, each one only solidifying the feeling she had known, only growing the feeling in her chest.

If someone asked her, she would've said she's known it forever.

But you didn't.

You didn’t know that all the time you spent crushing on her was mutual. You were oblivious to her side-glances. You heard her compliments on your appearance when you looked glamorous, but you brushed off the ones she gave when you were dressed in pajamas. You noticed the way her smile would brighten after she made a joke, but you didn't know that it was directly due to the sound of your laughter.

Kairi kept it to herself. She didn't want you to know. Or, she did, but she was scared. She was fearless most of the time - confident, cool, and sure of herself - but if she paid too much attention to the way her heart swelled when you smiled at her, she'd start to fumble. She'd rub her sweaty palms on the dark denim of her jeans when you weren't looking. She started to think too hard about the jokes she wanted to tell, no longer a seamless comedy queen but instead too focused on what you'd find funny. She wanted to impress you in every way. She wanted to prove to you that she was worth it to keep in your life without ever making it too obvious. That was the thing - she kept all her feelings under wraps.

One day, you met up with her for lunch at her favorite Japanese place, the one on the street corner across from her apartment. You two were regulars there; the owner knew you both by name and would start making your orders as soon as you opened the door.

"The usuals?" Mr. Ito shouted over the clatter of metallic dishes coming from the back kitchen.

"You know it!" Kairi yelled back, giving him a smile and a quick wave as she held the door open for you.

You both guided her to your usual spot, the small table for two against the floor-to-ceiling window. The afternoon sun was perfectly blocked by the coffee-colored awning so that it warmed the wooden chairs but stayed out of your eyes. You slipped into the seat in the corner, Kairi following suit across from you.

"So," she started as she slipped off her red bomber jacket, "any more drama with whats-his-face?"

The past few days, you'd been keeping her updated about an annoying coworker of yours who'd been trying to hit on every customer who came in. "He's ''quitting'' apparently," you replied, using your hands for air quotes. "I heard the manager suggesting that he put in his two weeks, so I guess it's like he was fired in a nice way."

She raised her eyebrows and rested her hand on her chin. "Shame he wasn't fired. Kinda sounds like the jerk deserved it."

You nodded in agreement, shrugging. "At least something's being done about it."

"Regulars!" Mr. Ito declared, looking over at you and Kairi. He placed a tray that held two steaming dishes on the counter.

"I'll get it," she said, already standing up. She returned a moment later, placing the tray in the center of the table. You responded with a smile, already grabbing your plate.

"We already started looking for new hires. You know, you could come work with us," you joked as you shoved a bite into your mouth.

She sent you a small smile across the table, one that silently said "no, but if you weren't joking I might consider it." That's one benefit of being friends for years: you could understand each other with a simple look. Never underestimate the power of a well-engineered eyebrow raise.

"We did an on-the-spot interview with some girl who came in," you continued. "She asked me for my number afterwards. She seemed like she'd be a good-"

Her hand paused halfway through bringing her noodles to her mouth. "She what?"

"She asked me for my number after her interview," you repeated.

"Like, in a flirty way?" Kairi narrowed her eyes, her jaw suddenly tense. She dropped her chopsticks back into the bowl.

"I don't really know," you said, taking another bite. "You know I'm always oblivious to that kind of stuff."

Yeah, I know, she thought to herself. She looked down at her noodles, suddenly full despite not taking a bite. "Mr. Ito, can I get a box?" She shouted, looking over the counter. He nodded and disappeared into the back.

"Hey, what's wrong? You're leaving?" You asked, suddenly aware of the tension that radiated from her. Your lunch breaks usually lasted half an hour.

"Here you go, Kairi," Mr. Ito said as he approached your table, plastic to-go box in hand.

She gave him a grateful smile as she took the box, already dropping her noodles into it. "Nothing's wrong," she said, avoiding your gaze. "I just remembered I had some plans. A date." She hoped you would be oblivious enough not to see through her lie.

"A date?" Your eyebrows shot up. She normally brought girls back to her place after a night out, but she wasn't the type to be in the dating scene. She always said she liked it better without strings attached. "It's more fun that way," she had once said when you asked why she never slept with the same girl twice.

Your heart ached a little at the idea, but you weren't exactly sure why. Maybe because you two had been best friends forever, and you thought she would've told you earlier that she had a date. You two didn't keep secrets from each other. At least, that's what you thought.

"Yeah, sorry," she said with a shrug, slipping back into her jacket. She stood up after she dropped a couple dollars for her food on the table.

"Okay, well, see you later?" you called after her, but the door was already closing behind her. You were left at the table, alone, watching her walk away through the tall window. There was a sinking feeling in your chest, but you couldn't tell the reason that conjured up the anchor.

[ part two ]

[sirisuorionblack]

Wonders in the Rain

Remus Lupin x CEO!Reader

Summary - After being unemployed for very long Remus reluctantly allowed his best friend to find him a job as the PA of her boss. And he would forever be grateful to her for that.

Warnings - Metions of death. 

A/N   This is also a fic written for @leydileyla 's 1K followers celebration. And now this fic is by far the longest I’ve written with 4K words. So, enjoy!

You groaned, throwing your pen onto the pile of papers and stood up from the confinement of your study desk and slowly walked towards the coffee machine to fill in the third cup of coffee since the morning and it wasn’t even past noon.

It was difficult and exhausting being the CEO of the most renowned company at the age of 21. It was certainly something you hadn’t expected when two years ago your mother said it would be you who continues her legacy and take care of the company in her death bed. You weren’t ready when you were announced the CEO right after the funeral, the grief inside you never had time to dissipate.

You remember so vividly as you stood in the corner of the room, dressed in all black, eyes swollen as the aftermath of losing your world overnight took a toll on you. Your little brother, at the mere age of 11 looked up at you with wide eyes unknown of what was going on as he clung to you, tightly and you held him as tight, afraid you would lose him just as you lost…the man who the cause for the illness of your mother. Her husband, your father, whose name spurred rage in you as you recollected him arguing with your mother and leaving you and your brother to watch as your mother collapsed onto the floor. 

You smiled pleasantly as your eyes fell on the beautiful woman you had the privilege to call your mother. It was her last picture. Your brother and you were huddled in her arms, a wide smile on your face as your mother kissed your forehead, your eye closed as your brother looked at you, his head thrown back as laughter engulfed him. It was like the time was frozen and you would rather be that girl - carefree and filled with happiness than…you, life so dark you can’t see anything except for the little shine that you so dearly held close to you in protection - your brother.

That was all in your life. Brother and company. Nothing in the orbit of love. It disgusted you ever since you saw your father leave. You despised that feeling of giving someone so much of yourself only for them to dust it off as though it was nothing but a speck of dirt. 

“Ms (L/N)?” your trail of thoughts were interrupted by a sweet voice. You composed yourself, placing the photograph on the table and turned around. It was Lily Evans, an employee of yours who you could very well say was close to you. She knew everything about you, from what you do first in the morning to your drastic sleeping schedule. She almost knew how you would react in every situation yet you couldn’t label your relation with her.

“Yes,” you turned around, avoiding her eyes. She stepped into your lavish office the only person ever having the privilege of being allowed to.

“So, there is this really good friend of mine-” she started with a feared voice only to be cut off by you.

“Evans, please, if this is some sort of a recommendation-” You said and paused as she hurriedly said, “No, no, no. I mean, yes, but he really deserves it,” 

“Fine, what is it?” you said, sighing as you once again took a seat behind your messy desk. 

“I’ve heard people say things about you never having a PA and my friend is actually, I mean, would actually love to take that position,” she said awkwardly. You smirked and leaned back on your chair, looking at her intently as she blushed under your intense gaze. 

You shook your head, “Fine, but I want to meet him and then I will decide,” 

You watched as Lily’s was brightened and she nodded enthusiastically, “Just an hour and he will be here to meet you,” 

You hesitated thinking of your schedule before she said, “You are free the next few hours,”

“And how do you know that?” you asked, raising your eyebrows. 

“I just heard,” she said, looking at the soles of her shoes. 

You rolled your eyes, “No wonder I can’t keep any secrets,” 

You were known for many conspiracy theories and gossips. It was difficult at the start, many breakdowns later you were broken enough that all those knives passed right through the holes, never affecting you. 

You were not excited about the arrival of Lily’s friend and time passed so quickly that before you knew it there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” you mumbled, too endorsed in your work to even look up or comprehend the sudden presence. 

“M-Ms (L/N),” you heard a deep voice say. The voice was new and one you had never heard of and your head automatically whipped to look at the source, startling the poor guy before you. Scars were littering his face and had a failed attempt at masking the exhaustion. He looked weak although there was a pleasant aura surrounding him, buzzing around him with energy. 

He played with the hem of his denim jacket, shifting from one foot to another. His ripped jeans and slightly dirty shirt telling he wasn’t prepared for this meet. He gulped, “My name is Remus, uh, Remus Lupin,” 

You blinked and stood up from your chair, “Who-why are you here?”

Remus’ eyes widened, “I-um, I, Lily told you wanted to see me. I mean, like wanted to meet me before you gave the, uh, the job,” 

For the first time, Remus saw you smile. Remus always admired you, the power and authority that radiated off you was bewildering when considered you were just 21, a year younger than himself and a successful CEO while here he was jobless and wandering around aimlessly. 

Of course, it hurt that ego instilled in him but he wasn’t gonna lose the opportunity of having some money in his hand to pay off his bills. Working as a PA to a girl younger than you wasn’t often considered a better one, and his mother told that very thing when he had called her minutes ago. 

You chuckled, “Take a seat,” you sat down and beckoned him to a chair placed on the opposite side of the desk. You closed the cap of your pen as Remus awkwardly walked towards the desk. 

“So, tell me something about you,” You said, your eyes boring into his eyes. They were gorgeous to Remus and it was terrifying when the reality set in that he was sitting before the (Y/N) (L/N). Someone he had admired only while scrolling through his phone and watching the news. 

You shook your hand dismissively, “I’ll rephrase that,” you sat in a more comfortable position on the chair, “Tell me about the companies you’ve worked for before, your qualification and some basic information about you like your age and things. If you don’t mind, that is,” 

“No, no, of course,” Remus said, “I just graduated from my university and I’ve worked for a minor publishing house for about six months,”

“And why aren’t you working with them anymore?” You asked but immediately asked him to continue as the subtle melancholy wove into his facial expressions and his fingers twitched. 

“Um, I studied English literature and yeah,” He said, shrugging and finally a small smile formed on his face.

You chuckled, shaking your head, “Where are you from?”

“Wales,” he said, without leaving a gap and was weirded out to find the odd feeling in his stomach as he saw you smile and chuckle over again in the short span of time you had met him. 

“Beautiful,” You glanced at the desktop placed on the side of your table and then looked back at him, “It's not gonna be an easy ride of you being my PA you might know the controversies that sparked in the past,”

“Yes, mam,” Remus nodded, his hands that were tightly clasped together was sweating profusely. 

“You will be sent an email that will let you know about the rest of the details. Make sure you read it thoroughly,” You said, glancing at the computer screen again. 

“Yes mam,” Remus said, fiddling with his fingers. 

“Also, the date when you can join will be mentioned in the email itself,” you smiled at him, “And that’s about it,” 

“Oh, alright,” Remus stood up slowly. 

“Your appointed, Mr Lupin,” You said once again and watched as the glow finally found his face after your confirmation. He grinned happily and said, “Thank you very much, Ms (L/N),” and dashed out of the room without another word, leaving you feeling extremely happy for some reason as you returned to your tedious paper.

Two months, that’s how long you had known Remus and over time it was appropriate to say the two of you grew closer.

You had never had anyone to stand behind you and guide you to what is right, it was always you, yourself alone in the vast arena named society feeling scared and little in the insides while having a brave facade outside. It was extremely difficult to push everything aside and struggle to move forward alone and without proper guidance.

But ever since Remus was appointed two months ago, he had never left your side. It was as though somebody had stepped beside you on the high podium you stood on, facing what was worse than galloping hordes. The comforting aura radiating off him calmed the burning insecurity and fear drilled into you. He stood like a guard, a mentor and a…friend. You’d go a far as to say family as you saw the ways he behaved with your brother.

Remus never made you regret a thing in your regretful life. It was almost bewildering in the start at what he could do. He had made a tiny hole in the wall you had created for yourself from the world. And the little crack Remus created bombarded him with everything he knew that you wouldn't have told anyone else.

You weren’t aware how he knew all those things about you that even you didn’t. It was as though he knew exactly what you would do before you even thought of it. Remus Lupin did wonders to you.

And (Y/N) (L/N) did wonders to him. Remus couldn’t calm his nerves the first day he walked into your office in that posh suit and saw that bright sparkle in your beautiful eyes. He fell. Quite literally, it was extremely awkward when he tripped over his own foot and had to hold onto the door handle. But you had a smile and beckoned him inside saying it happens all the time and how you had to change the layout of the office. 

Just as Sirius Black - the love god as he demanded to be called - predicted, by the end of the first month, Remus was smitten over you. He couldn’t find a reason to dislike you in fact, every minuscule detail he learned about you just made him like you more.

One drunken confession to the “love God”, Remus was clear of his feelings to you and he was never one to understand his feelings, rather run away from them and he had lost a handful of relations like that and he never wanted to do it again yet there wasn’t a chance he could tell them to you and the victim of the mess of his love life was James (Remus thought he deserved it). 

Remus groaned, leaning back on his chair and rubbed his eyes. He received the mail for the annual conference that would be held where thousands of companies would be having a discussion. It was a really good idea but you hated it and just yesterday he had listened to you speak passionately against it, although Remus just heard the first few sentences and the rest of them falling into his deaf ears as he stared at you. 

“Remus,” Lily shook his arm, “Remus!” 

“I'm listening,” He mumbled and he didn’t have to see her to know she would have rolled her eyes. 

“What is the email about?” She asked. 

“Read it yourself, Evans,” he said with a sigh.

“Is this what you would have told to the love of your life?” she said but he could hear her voice drawl as she read the mail. Remus mumbled, “I don’t love,”

“Sure you don’t, Lupin,” she scoffed. Remus knew what was happening and who she was referring but he would dare say it himself and be teased relentlessly. 

“So, why are you groaning to attend a conference,” Lily asked. 

“She hates that,” Remus said, still not opening his eyes. 

“Ah, she hates everything,” Lily said and he failed to notice the smirk on her lips as he defended you and glared at her. 

“First of all, it’s overseas and she said they would be poorly organised. Second, she doesn’t hate everything, alright, you just don’t know what she likes,” He said, sitting straight on his chair. 

“Sure, sure, Remus,” She said, teasing and left not before ruffling his mass curls, “You suck, do you that?”

”Yep, ask James of it!” She said, winking at him as Remus groaned, disgusted. 

“Ms (L/N),” Remus managed to leave his seat 30 minutes later, mentally preparing himself. You looked at him with a bright smile and beckoned him in by waving your hand enthusiastically. It physically hurt Remus to think he would be the one delivering the news that would wipe the grin off your face. 

“The annual conference-” Before Remus could even complete his sentence he saw your mood shift completely by how you slammed your head against your study desk. He winced. 

“When is it?” He could hear you mumble. You would be thoroughly pissed if he told when it was. Remus shifted his weight from one foot to another and said, “Day after tomorrow,” 

“Day after tomorrow!?” you yelled, whipping your head to look at him. Remus nodded apologetically. 

And here you were two days later, in your private plane flying to a place where you dreaded to go. Although the only good thing in this was seeing Remus in a causal outfit other than his tailored black suit even that was overpowered by the fact that it was seven in the evening. 

“We will be there in about two hours,” Remus said, scrolling through his phone, “You can take a nap and once we reach there we need to get to the location they sent by a car they have arranged,” 

“They arranged a car?” You asked, blinking at him.

“Yes, they did,” he shrugged, closing his phone and keeping it in the holder. He looked into your bewildered eyes.

“Do we have a backup plan?” you asked, glaring at him. 

“We-no? Why do we need a backup plan?” He asked, puzzled. 

“Remus, do you remember when I told you about their ability to organising things?” You said, looking at him accusingly. Remus took a deep breath, he had not just forgotten them but ignored them too. 

“Uh,” He gulped and rubbed the back of his neck, “We-”

”Lupin, I swear I am not walking miles!” you scolded. And for some reason, Remus’ damned mind could predict exactly what Sirius would have said at the moment and was almost tempted to say the exact words he would have said, “I’ll carry you, don’t worry,” but Remus knew better.

“You won’t, promise,” He gave thumbs up, “Now, you get your needed nap, yeah?”

“Would you leave?” you asked, staring into Remus’ eyes with mixed emotions and he couldn't place a finger on what exactly it was to give a response, so he resorted to the good ol’, “Do you want me to leave?” 

You took a deep breath. Did you want him to leave? You were torn between yourself. One part of you wanted him to stay with you, having no strength to battle with your thoughts alone although he wasn’t going to do much, his sole presence was comforting for you. The other part was scared. Scared of what he could do and just fear blocking every thought of yours. 

But the fear, somehow, for the first time was brought down and you whispered, “Stay,” and who was Remus to disobey that.

After two exhausting hours confined in that plane, the first thing you did once you got off the plane was crack your joints while walking outside and Remus stood on the side chuckling at you. 

“Well, you are the one who is supposed to do it,” You said, rolling your eyes with a smile. He walked to your side, “I don’t exactly ‘cause I knew how to sit on a plane,” 

“Oh is it now?” You scoffed. 

Remus hummed, “Yep!” 

“How else do you sleep in that uncomfortable seat?”

“You wouldn’t kill me if I said, would you?” He asked, looking at you cautiously.

You shrugged, “It depends,” 

“Alright. Um, that’s not reassuring but I’ll tell - you don’t sleep when you on a plane,” Remus said and watched as you whipped your head towards him and glaring.

“What sort of a creature are you?!”

“A good one,” 

“Ooh, getting brave now are we, Lupin,” You bumped your shoulder with him and Remus chuckled, shaking his head. 

“Remus, how long will it take?” You asked glaring at him, who spoke frantically to someone on his phone. The two of you were still in the airport after an hour or so and just like you warned the car has not yet arrived. You huffed and looked at the large window panels that showed the exit of the airport. The sun had already set, not a speck of it in the sky. It was pitch black, the half-moon already shining with the stars in its company. 

You always loved staring at the sky. It not just reminded of your mother but her interpretation. She always considered the moon to be herself when she was younger. The little stars close to it were you and your brother and the rest all were her employees and comrades. She later said the moon was you and the stars behind you were every single person you would meet and the beautiful night sky was reserved for a special person. However, you tried to oppose her point, she stood her stand and told you that one day you will understand it and perhaps it was about time you did. 

You felt someone touch your hand and when you turned to look, Remus was crouched before you, his scarred hand on top of yours. His bright eyes were apologetic as he stared into your eyes. He was confused about how watery it was. Remus scrunched his eyebrows, “Are you alright?”  You nodded with a smile. Remus sighed and held your hand tightly in his.

“The car didn’t come, isn’t it?” you asked with a smirk. Remus ducked his head low. He always felt extremely guilty when he couldn’t do the job he was given and certainly not when he ignored the instruction. 

He was surprised to hear you chuckle, “It’s alright,” You said, grinning at him.

Remus’ eyes widened, “Really?” 

You shrugged, “There isn’t much that I can do now, is it?” 

“I-I’m really sorry,” He hoped you would accept his apology. 

You laughed, “It’s OK, Remus, calm down and think of how we are going there now,” 

“Yes, about that the organizer said they would arrange us a motorbike,” Remus grimaced in anticipation of your reaction.

“Really?” You asked, your eyes widened in excitement. 

“Yeah, it’s actually there at the exit of the terminal,” he said. 

“Ah! Can we use it then?” sitting on the edge of the seat you asked him with a childish excitement making Remus’ heart swell happiness. He stared at you with a mild smile on your face as he chuckled. 

“That’s why it is there in the first place,” he said and watched your eyes lit up with no concern of the sass in his words that usually wasn’t ignored. 

“I wanna see it!” You stood up abruptly and pulled him up with you. Although getting slightly intimidated by how he towered over you, the profound excitement of finally seeing a motorbike coursed through your veins like fire. 

Remus chuckled, “Yes, of course,”

He couldn’t believe it. Remus couldn’t believe the sight before him - his ever stoic boss had her jaw dropped to the floor as she saw the motorbike.

It all quite made sense if he had to think of it, it was impossible for you to drive it down the streets anywhere back home but here it was rather unknown of your arrival, so you could zoom through the streets as you whished without a sense of fear. It was one of the reasons why you chose to travel in the night while announcing you would be leaving the country in the morning. 

“Ahh, this is so beautiful!” you gushed, walking closer and running your hand across the seat, “Can I drive? Please?” 

“As you should. I dunno to drive that,” Remus said, shrugging. 

“It’s alright,” You waved your hand, dismissively, “I’m not gonna judge,” 

As you swing your leg over the bike seat and adjust your coat, you said, “My mum got me one for my 18th birthday and I was obsessed over it, like that’s was my only means of transportation,” 

“That’s brilliant,” Remus said as he planned the first thing he would do once he is back home. 

You and Remus were high on adrenaline as the two of you zoomed into the night. The feeling of cutting through the air with wide grins and hollering happily was indeed beautiful and in the back of your mind, the astonishment of how long it had taken you for being like this again baffled. 

But it all went down once the light drizzle became fully-fledged rain. Having to park the motorbike by some bus stop, the two of you held your jackets above your head and ducked inside, still grinning. 

“Ah, the bike is getting wet,” you said, the thought dampening your mood. 

“This doesn’t seem to be stopping any soon,” Remus said, taking a deep breath as he scanned the surroundings. It was pitch black except for the moon shining down at you. It was such a sight for sore eyes when Remus turned to look at you, your coat was tightly wrapped around yourself, your hair dripping with the rainwater, your eyes shining as you watched your surrounding. You looked divine. 

Remus didn’t know what he was thinking when he took hold of your hand and ran out of the bus stop. “Remus! What are you doing!?” You yelled as he pulled you to the middle of the deserted road.

“You said to me once you loved dancing in the rain!” he said, pushing the water out of his eyes. 

“But-” You looked around, the adrenaline still rushing inside and it indeed was your dream to be out in the streets dancing while rain poured down and the night sky guarded you. Remus let go of your hand, his eyes never leaving you as your legs slowly started moving as though by nature of the memory. 

Time slipped through your hands and before you knew it, after all the laughter, you were back in Remus’ arms, staring into his eyes. You always loved them, feeling as though they held mystery amidst them although always raw. You knew on your fingertips how he felt at that moment when you could just see his eyes but now, it was unknown. 

Remus had a gentle smile on his face as he protectively had his arms wrapped around your waist, a reassurance to himself that you were indeed protected from anything and everything. He leaned down to keep the two of you close and warm. 

“Remus,” you whispered, silently.  He smiled, allowing his eyes to shut as the echo of his name tumbling from your lips ran in his ears and before he knew it before he had control on himself, Remus blurted, “I love you,” 

He was stunned to hear the tiny gasp leaving your mouth and his heart was wrenched out when he saw the disbelief and incredulity in your eyes, “What’s wrong?” 

“What’s wrong!?” you yelled and Remu was taken aback, “Is that what you ask after telling me you love me?!”

”I am sorry," his statement ended more like a question as he looked at you with wide eyes. The rain was still pouring and he didn’t know if it was the rain or your own tears in your eyes. 

“Jerk!” You yelled, your fingers holding his drenched shirt tightly as your chest heaved rapidly. 

Remus wasn’t confused, he was beyond just confused about your reaction. You were yelling at him like he was some stupid but never letting go of him and now he was never the best at these messes. 

Clearing his mind off all the thoughts he cautiously moved his hand to rest on the side of your cheek and watched as your eyes closed, your own hand moving to hold his tightly.

Remus leaned down and kissed your forehead. He had never seen you more vulnerable as a sob escaped your lips and you slammed against his chest, your arm tightly wrapped around his torso. 

It was the first time in three years had you been kissed on the forehead and that alone proved to you that Remus was different. He is your night sky.

Remus held you tightly in the comfort of his arms as you whispered “I love you” into his shoulder. He never knew when the rain stopped. And now the surrounding was fragile. It was just you and him in the deserted street, the freshly smelling earth, the stars and moon shining down at you…and love.

[bcdwhcre]

“Sacrifice” Reader x Adult Trio

Prompt: simply something were to happen on a mission w/ adult trio and one of you has to be the sacrifice.

Warnings: none just sad bc I’m sad

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• Hisoka:

You had begged Hisoka to let you come with him on this mission, it had been a while since the both of you worked together and he couldn’t deny that you two made a good team but the more time went on, the more he got over protective with you and letting you come with him was like him having to babysit and do the mission all at once and he couldn’t risk losing you, not under his supervision.

When you finally went on the mission, you realized how hard it actually was until it came down to one last option at the back of your head. You didn’t want to think about it, you couldn’t so you continued to get up and fight with everything you had in you. Hisoka was trying his hardest to keep his eyes on you while also battling the main boss behind the whole operation you two were trying to take down. Hisoka simply thought this would be a fun interesting battle that he could probably easily win but with you here, he had to make sure you were safe above all.

Minutes passed and you were on the ground heaving from how exshaunted and beaten down you were. Your body ached but your heart broke more when you took a glance at Hisoka and seen how hard he was trying- for you. You knew in that second you had to do what you were thinking about earlier. Sacrificing yourself for Hisoka’s safety. Your power that was held inside of you was a deadly weapon, he knew that but what he didn’t know was that the power you held all these years can easily kill you. You kept it locked away for as long as you could, your past with your powerful family was traumatizing and you refused to use the power your abusive father passed on to you but the look on Hisoka’s face, the look you’ve never seen before was fear.

In that moment, it clicked and you knew you had to use it for this and knew you had to keep him alive at all costs. You couldn’t care less about yourself or your own life but Hisoka, you cared for his more. You never knew you could love someone this much that it made your heart ache. You slowly stood up, wiping the blood mixed with tears off your face and had used everything in your power to grab onto the boss and held on as you took everything you had in you to absorb the both of you with the intense power, practically burning you both alive.

Hisoka got knocked down from the sudden explosion, his eyes wide and strands of hair rested over his bloody forehead. He ran over to where you were, his heart racing and panic filled his head. Once he had seen your body, he knew what you did for him. He kneeled down and scooped up your lifeless body, emotionless. He didn’t know what to feel or what to think, you were all he had left. He had pushed the small strands from your face, sighing as the tears threatened to fall from his eyes.

“Thank you, darling.” Was all he said, carrying you away from the scene and through the woods, bringing you back home.

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Chrollo:

Chrollo had known you for quite some time and once you joined the spiders, the relationship between you two had blossomed rather quickly. It was unexpected, you had only joined to get revenge on the spiders for stealing precious items from the small town you came from but the more you had talked to Chrollo, the more you realized how much in common you two had and after that it went all downhill.

Your judgment was clouded, the only thoughts left in your brain was of Chrollo and you disappeared from your town years ago to stay with him and be wherever he was but the chain user had gotten to him in ways you didn’t want to believe and the chain wrapped around his heart had prevented him from speaking to the spiders and that had broken you down heavily.

It’s been months since you seen or heard from him and it had sent you in a spiral of sadness and rage to the point where you had gotten into a murderous rampage throughout the city, ripping apart people and burning places to the ground. Feitan had tried his best to look after you but it was no use considering how powerful you truly were and he noticed that there was no hope to tame a wild animal without their alpha, it was pointless.

Chrollo finally got light of what you were doing and it had made his heart ache more and more until finally he decided to do what was needed to be done. To see you. He didn’t bothering caring about the rest of the spiders nor the judgment chain that wrapped around his heart, preventing him from seeing you but as broken as you both were, he wanted to make this sacrifice just to see your face one last time.

He had made the arrangements and made sure he had written letters out to everyone in the troupe and one especially for you before he made his way to the city you were in causing chaos. Once he stepped foot in the city, he was having second thoughts. Did he want to kill himself just to see your face one more time or should he wait until he could get the chain off, would you handle waiting for that long? He wasn’t too sure but his love for you was huge and deep, it was endless and he knew he had to see you and make you stop this madness.

His feet made their way around, trying to find the exact location you were staying at before settling inside and waiting for you. His hair hung over his face and the clothes he wore were just a plain t-shirt and jeans. He was nervous, his hands were actually sweaty for the first time since he first met you. Suddenly, the door opened up and he saw a glimpse of your face and his heart began to race. You both made eye contact and you didn’t think twice before clinging yourself onto him. The hug was tight, your chests pressed against each other before your lips had met.

He knew he had to speed up this process, he knew it was coming in a matter of minutes so he quickly pulled back and made sure to cup your cheeks to keep you in place.

“Listen to me, I don’t have much time. I couldn’t handle not seeing your face or not being able to touch you and I finally realized that my last breath should be with you. You’ve made me open my eyes and see the world in a much better light, for that I’m forever grateful and I want you to live a long happy life, even if it’s without me. Got it?” He had rushed everything out, wiping the tears that had slipped and rolled down your cheeks.

“Chrollo- why,” Suddenly his eyes went wide for a second, the chain stabbing him clean in the heart and the whole time he kept his eyes on you, never letting go and you had to catch him as he fell, gasping for breath as his last seconds were kept focused on you.

“I love you, don’t forget that.” He barely managed to speak before his heart stopped beating and the life drained from his eyes.

You had sat there, holding his lifeless body close to yours as you tried to gather your thoughts and take in what had just happened. He risked his life to see you and for some reason you couldn’t handle that or process it. You knew you couldn’t manage without him and he wanted you to try. You had thought about years ago to when you two first met and had much he’s changed you, definitely made you crazy but in ways you didn’t mind.

Questions flew around your mind, are you going to be fine without him? Look around the city and look at what you did for him being gone for a few months and now he’s- gone forever. You felt stupid, it was your fault he came here and the pain thag swelled up your heart was so painful that it could kill you. It took you hours of holding onto his body to finally come up with a conclusion. As much as you loved him, you didn’t bring yourself to read the full letter he wrote to you, most of it consisting of living on for him and leading the Troupe but deep down Chrollo knew while writing it that the end of this story would be similar to Romeo and Juliet, the both of you dead inside the hotel room and he also accepted that fate.

As you got up from the floor, picking up a knife from your jacket pocket that was on the bed, you made your way back to lay beside him. The ache in your heart grew and grew more as you laid there before finally you made a sacrifice and that was to be with Chrollo. You pushed the knife in your chest, the sharp objecting instantly hitting your heart and your eyes rolled to the side to take one more look at him before the life drained out of you.

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• Illumi:

Illumi was never the type to be openly affectionate or caring towards other people. It had actually taken him years to even begin to show you that side and openly admit to somewhat feeling a different way when he was around you.

He was a quiet but gentle soul, that’s what you thought anyway but on the outside he was very cold and mysterious and that’s what you liked about him and that’s what drew you in.

He was very good at his job to say the least, never messed up and never ruined anything, he always got the job done and went back home or went back to wherever you stayed at. This time it was different, he had pushed himself a little too far and put his trust into your hands and had let you come along with him to do a job, assassinate a big well known man.

Illumi had repeatedly told you to stay close and to not get into any trouble and he would do the job, you were basically just a puppy following behind him and kept yourself tight on his trail until you had turned your attention away from him for a second, just one and that’s all it took for you to get yourself caught up in a ugly situation.

The people had taken you in as hostage and tried to use you against Illumi but you knew better than to put your life into his hands, he would leave you if it had to come down to his life. As much as you never said it aloud or wanted to admit it, he was afraid of losing you and didn’t want to put you in any danger.

You had met eyes with his, the cold stare on his face was making it hard to tell if he had any real emotion and if he was actually upset at the situation you got caught in. Your brain had wondered endlessly and you knew that you would be dead and you’ll have to be dead for him to do his job right and get out of here without a scratch.

Your eyes glanced around, trying to pick up the courage to try to fight the guys that held you hostage and you ignored the endless screaming of them threatening to shoot you if you didn’t stop but, you didn’t stop. You kept going, pushing them more and more until the gunshot echoed throughout the building.

Illumi’s eyes stared at you, taking the chance to kill everyone in seconds while they were distracted with you but he was a little too late as he seen your body limp on the cold floor, the bullet killing you instantly.

Illumi was never the type to sacrifice his life for someone else or care for someone but when it came to you, the amount of warmth he felt when he was around you was something new. It was thrilling yet scary in his eyes but he couldn’t shake you off, even when he tried and tried- you always came back.

The emotionless stars upon his face had stayed still, a small frown forming as he stared at you not knowing what to do, what to say. He ruined this mission, maybe if he had trust his gut to not take you and leave you back then you would still be alive. Now he was back to being alone and cold. The feeling of warmth he never felt from anyone, not even his own parents, was swept away in an instant along with your life.

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Send requests plssssss

• Masterlist

[hockeywhhores]

best for you- t. seguin

Tyler Seguin x f!Reader

warning~ swearing, smut, female and male receiving, alcohol consumption, pushy waiter 

summary~ A pushy bartender gets you thinking about Tyler and what you want next with him. 

genre~ friends with benefits to lovers, smut

word count~ 2.6K 

valentine’s week masterlist

main masterlist

As Tyler spent more time in Dallas, he found himself getting lonely. Insert you; you had just recently gotten out of a long-term relationship and were just looking for no strings attached sex. You had met when you started interning for the Dallas Stars, but left after deciding public relations wasn’t for you, you stopped interning. The guys liked you though, so you got invited to most of the social gatherings. You promptly got closer to Tyler due mostly to the fact you were both young and single. After getting close enough with Tyler, you both quickly jumped into a friend with benefits situation. No one but Jamie knew about what would happen behind closed doors.

Tonight was no different. Tyler had invited you to some club to celebrate their recent win. You knew you wouldn’t be making it back to your own apartment that night. You never did anyway. When all of this started, you both promised to end it if one of you got feelings, and you certainly were not successful. Tyler could say the same thing. Getting ready didn’t take long due to you already being ready from earlier in the day. The only thing that changed was your shirt. You went from being in a simple white blouse to Tyler’s jersey. The Uber you ordered was quickly at your curb, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Everyone was coming straight from the game, and usually you would be with them, but you had got stuck at work. Tyler was already texting you wondering where you were, and you put his mind to ease saying you were headed over.

The club was packed. Bodies were everywhere, you could hardly find the group of hockey players. You weren’t disappointed when you found Tyler in the crowd. Tyler was talking with Jamie when you snuck up on them. They were both dressed in their pregame suits. Tyler was looking as good as always. “Boo!” you cheered out. Tyler turned around so quickly, you thought he might’ve given himself whiplash.

“Hey! I was wondering where you were!” Tyler's grin was huge and contagious. You smiled just as big.

“Ya, my Uber got stuck in traffic.” you sighed out an explanation, “Hey Jamie! You both played so well tonight. I had time to catch the third period while I was leaving work.”

“Thanks y/n. Do you want anything to drink?” Jamie cut in.

“Just put your drinks on my tab tonight.” Tyler added on. You smiled at him in thanks. You never wanted Tyler to feel as if you were using him for his money. You turned around to order, when the bartender got closer. “You are wearing my jersey.” Tyler said.

“Yeah. I thought I should since you were such a big star tonight.” you explained. You thought nothing of wearing his jersey when you had put it on. Tyler loved seeing his last name on your back. It made him feel proud.

“Well, let me just say you look hot.” he whispered into your ear while he played with your hair. You swear you blushed redder than a tomato.

“How long do we have to be here, before I can treat my big star for his monumental work?” you questioned him.

“Give it an hour or two. They’ll be drunk enough they won't even notice when we leave.” Tyler guessed.

“Tell Jamie he might want to find somewhere to sleep for the night.” you chirped.

“I don’t think he’ll have a problem with that.” Tyler said as he pointed to Jamie, who was talking up some brunette on the other side of the bar.

“Prefect!” you cheered. The bartender had finally come back with your drink and set it on the counter.

“You have pretty hair.” The bartender told you, as you thanked him for your drink. He had completely ignored Tyler, who was at your side.

“Thank you.” you said again and turned away before anything could happen. When you and Tyler had started hooking up, your dating life came to a complete halt. You didn’t feel the need to get a one-night stand, you were perfectly content with Tyler. Tyler knew who to use his body, he also knew your body. You thought about when you first asked him to try you up. You felt yourself getting wet. This was going to be a long two hours.

“What’s going through that head of yours?” Tyler asked when he saw you turn bright pink. You just winked at him and walked over to his teammates. You wanted to play with him a little. You could hear them all talking about hockey.

“No more hockey! You guys need at least one night free of that outrageous sport.” you shouted as you got closer. A lot of the guys answered in cheering your name as you smiled and waved. Jason was seated on one of the end seats and pulled you into a quick side hug. When you came out of the hug, you felt Tyler’s hand pull you into his side by your hip. You gave him a questioning look, but he didn’t even look at you.

“Lets go dance, y/n!” Lauren excitingly demanded as she grabbed your hand. You decided to go and let loose a bit. You were dancing with Lauren for what feels like forever, and to be fair, it was long enough to finish sipping on your drink. You headed back to the bar. The same bartender was there, and you just tried to get this over with. You weren’t in the mood to get hit on by random men.

“Another vodka redbull, please.” you politely asked.

“Coming right up, beautiful.” you rolled your eyes and waited for him to make your drink. “Anything else I can get you? Maybe I can get your number?” he asked.

“I’m good, thank you.” you denied.

“Come on, please. It's just your number.” he tried to convenience you.

“I have a boyfriend.” you informed him.

“Oh, come on. The douche you were with earlier. I’m so much better than him.” he pressed on.

“I am extremely happy with him. He treats me so much better than you could ever.” you just walked away. Heading back to Lauren. “Hey, Lauren, I think I’m going to sit down for a while.” you told her.

“Are you okay?” she asked, concerned.

“Yeah. The bartender wasn’t taking no for an answer, and I want to sit with Tyler.” you explained. She just nodded and walked you back to the table. “Hey, Ty, Can you take me home?” you asked him quietly.

“Of course. Are you okay?” he asked

“Yeah, I just want to go home.” you said. Tyler got up in a flash and said bye to all of his teammates. You just waved. You had let him lead you out of the club, with his arm around your waist. You didn’t even care about what others might be thinking. Tyler held you close as he ordered an Uber. You were shivering. When you left the house you didn’t even think about grabbing a coat, but standing out in the chilly night you regretted that decision. He could feel you shivering, and after he had the car ordered, he pulled you in as close as he could. He even tried to get you to wear his jacket, but you said you were fine in his arms. So he just held you until the car came.

“What happened?” he gently asked while holding your hand.

“The bartender was being creepy and just out right disrespectful.” you explained. “He told me I should give him my number, and when I said you were my boyfriend, he told me about how he would treat me better than you. Fuck. It's just so annoying.” Tyler’s heart warmed when he heard you had told him you were his girlfriend. He wanted so badly for that to be the truth, but you were looking for a no string-attached relationship.

“I’m sorry, y/n” he said as his hand tightened around yours. You just lay your head on his shoulder, sinking into him.

“Are we going back to yours or mine?” you asked.

“I put my address in, but do you want me to change it to yours?” he countered.

“No, yours is fine.” you signed, resting onto him deeper. Tyler always tried to remind himself that he wasn’t good enough. He drank way too much, was covered in tattoos, and was traveling half the year. So even if you had felt the same for him, you didn’t deserve him. You deserved a nice guy who could be there for you.

When you got back to his house, you took charge. You rarely took charge in the bedroom, but you decided you wanted to tonight. You grabbed his blazer and pulled him into a hard kiss. He kissed back just as hard and pulled you closer by the hips. The dogs came to greet you, which made you pull away. You bent down to pet Gerry, while Tyler started talking to Cash and Marshmallow. Tyler led you to the bedroom and closed the door. You pulled him back into the kiss. You then started pulling off his suit blazer and unbuttoning his shirt. You started pulling off the jersey, but he stopped your hands.

“Keep it on.” Tyler demanded. You just nodded and unbuckled his belt. Sinking down to your knees and dragging down his suit pants. He was left in his boxers, and your mouth and pussy were growing wet. You left some sloppy wet kisses on the outside of his boxer, right on his tip. “Don’t play with me, Princess.”

“I would never, Daddy.” you innocently replied to him. You let the idea of you being dominant leave your mind. You dragged his boxers down and connected your mouth to his now fully exposed tip. Tyler grabbed the back of your head, and you let him lead your head. He started going faster, and you were gagging on him. He was long and thick, and hitting your gag reflex with ease. You played with his balls, while tears were escaping your eyes. You loved when he fucked your face. He was close to cumming, you could tell by the way he slightly slowed his thrusts. You started speeding up your movement, wanting him to cum soon. You kept going unto he coated your mouth with his seed. Tyler never expected you to swallow, but he would be lying if he said that he didn’t find it hot when you did. You swallowed, staring him in the eyes as you did so.

“You are killing me, Princess.” he groaned, and you smiled. “Get on the bed, let Daddy reward you.” You rushed back to the bed, and he pulled your jeans off when you got situated. Seeing your white lace panties made his dick spring. “Did you wear these for me?” you nodded, but he gave your pussy a slap when you didn’t answer.

“Just for you, Daddy.” you admitted. He smiled, happy with your answer. With feather light touches he pulled down your underwear. He loved seeing you squirm in his arms. After your panties were gone, he teased you by kissing your inner thighs. “Tyler. Please.” you begged him. You yelped when you felt a sting go through you. He had slapped your pussy again, but this time harder.

“That’s not my name.” he reminded you.

“I’m sorry! I meant Daddy!” you moaned out when you felt him kiss right above your clit. “Please.” you moaned again. Then you finally felt his lips attach to your clit. You were a moaning mess, and it only got worse when he pushed his fingers into you. He found your g-spot easily. Tyler knew your body like it was his. It was his. He was the one you called, and you haven’t even thought about sleeping with someone else in months. Tyler got you screaming when he pumped his fingers into you fast and was sucking on your clit. You felt like you were in heaven. It only lasted a couple seconds before you were cumming, and you were cumming hard. You were screaming his name. Your legs were shaking, and you had to push him off of you when the pleasure had started to sting.

“That was amazing, Doll.” he complimented you. You blushed and tugged him up so you could kiss him. He kissed you hard, and when you reached for down to play with him, you heard one of his dogs scratch at the door. “Fuck.” Tyler sighed out.

“Go open the door for them. We can finish later.” you swept the loose hair that had fallen into his eyes. He did as you said, and you took off the jersey, and put his white button down on your body instead. Later came and went with you and him cuddling in the bed watching some movie. The dogs had joined in, they all found their own places in little coves in the bed. “Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we put real labels on this” you quietly asked.

“What?” Tyler thought he misheard you, but when he saw you looking up at him with your loving eyes, he knew he heard you correctly.

“Nevermind. Please forget what I just said. We promised not to catch feelings.” you panicked.

“I think about it all the time.” he confessed. “I think about what it would be like to come home to you and the dogs every day. I messed up and caught feelings, but I’m no good for you. You could find someone so much better than me.”

“Tyler. You do not get to decide what is good for me. I’m so sick of men deciding what's good for me. You treat me like a princess. I can’t think of anyone who makes me feel the way you do.” you professed. You got up on your elbows and made sure his eyes didn’t leave yours. “I love you, Tyler.”

“I love you too, y/n. I just wished I didn’t have to leave so much. You need someone that will be there when you need them.” Tyler said.

“No. You were there for me, when my shower head broke, even though you were all the way in fucking Canada. You sat on facetime with me while I messed around with the pipes, before just telling me where your spare key was, so I could use yours. You are there for me more than you realize.” tears were now falling down your cheeks. Why couldn’t he see how good he was to you? “Please, just give us a shot.” Tyler nodded, and you grinned. The kiss was slightly salty because of your tears, but your happiness was overpowering it.

“I just want what's best for you, y/n.” he explained.

“you are what’s best for me.” you proclaimed, kissing his cheek.

“Okay, but the first time I fuck up you need to dump my ass.” he said.

“I will agree to that, because I know you wouldn’t fuck up,” you explained, “Well, not too badly.” you giggled, which got a smile back on his lips. You fell asleep in his arms with the dogs at your feet, and the light sound of the TV in the background.

finished

[whisperlullaby]

Ukulele

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Music shop AU)

Warnings: Talk of death (no major characters or spoilers), fluff. That’s it. Fluffy flirty Bucky because it’s what we deserve.

Word Count: 1449

Summary: You need to get a ukulele for your niece’s birthday and head right into Bucky’s music shop

A/N: 2 oneshots in one week?! Who am I? Special thanks to @river-soul​ for always amping me up and reading my stories. Forever grateful for you! If I missed any warnings let me know.

Tags: @syntheticavenger​ @quxxnxfhxll​ @immatr3x​

This was your last resort. You had to find a ukulele for your niece that wasn’t over your budget. It was astounding to you how expensive this tiny instrument was online. People were probably upselling it. You were fortunate that your friend pointed you in the direction of a local music shop that carried various instruments, records, and supplies. You don't know why you didn't think about it in the first place.

You saw the neon open sign and ran into the shop out of the pouring rain. You planned on staying for a bit until the rain let up and as you were shaking off the cool droplets you heard a low gravelly voice behind you, “Good morning, is there anything I can help you find today?”

You turned around and were met with the most handsome man you had ever seen. His clear blue eyes had you wishing the rain clouds would go away so you could compare them to the sky. He was wearing a tight white shirt, black jeans, and a black leather jacket. His hair was pushed back into a bun and you could just imagine running your fingers through his long hair.

You shook off your shock like the rain and cleared your suddenly dry throat, “I’m just browsing for now, but thank you.” Hoping that your non-committal answer would allow him to let you stay in the shop long enough for the rain to stop.

“No problem, I'm Bucky if you have any questions I’ll be right over here.” He went back behind the counter and started strumming a guitar. The melody was so soothing you almost forgot why you had come to the store in the first place.

“Hey what are you playing?” You wondered from across the empty store.

“Just a song I’m working on. If it’s bothering you I can stop for a bit. I shouldn’t be playing music during business hours anyway but the owner lets me get away with it.” He threw you a sly smirk.

You let out a breathy laugh, “No you don't have to stop, it sounds really beautiful. The owner sounds like a pretty great guy letting you practice during business hours. Is he around often? Or does he stay home on rainy days.”  

Bucky smiled at you, “I was making a joke dove, apparently a pretty bad one. I’m actually the owner.”

You slapped your forehead and flushed red. You were an idiot, your friend told you the owner Bucky was really helpful. Which is why she had suggested it in the first place. 

“Oh my god I’m an idiot I knew you were the owner. I’m so sorry, my name is Y/N” You sighed, “actually if you could help me I am looking for a ukulele for my niece. It’s her birthday tomorrow and everything I found online was either too expensive or too cheap.”

Bucky set down his guitar, “Follow me. We don’t get a lot of ukulele requests so I keep that stock in the back.” You moved to follow Bucky to the back stockroom. 

As you entered the back room Bucky held out his hand. “It’s a bit tight back here so you’ll have to follow close. I would hate for you to trip over something and get hurt.”

You grabbed Bucky’s hand as he led you through the cramped stockroom with ease. You could feel yourself getting heated the longer you held his hand and prayed to every single deity you could think of that he did not notice your palm begin to sweat. 

“So how old is your niece going to be?” Bucky stopped at a section of shelving that contained several different boxes.

“She’s going to be 12. After her dad died last year and all she wanted to do was play music. She says it makes her feel like he’s still around. He was a high school band teacher and loved his string instruments. It’s been really hard on her and my sister is doing her best to make sure she honors his memory.” You paused and looked at Bucky. He was staring at you with such sorrow. “Oh my gosh I am so sorry I just completely overshared didn’t I? I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Bucky let out a long sigh looking down. “Don’t worry about it Y/N. It’s kind of a similar reason why I got into music. Why I opened this shop. Growing up my house was always filled with different music, every morning my mom would put on a record and then play along on her piano. All different types of music too.” Bucky paused and looked back at you “When she passed away 5 years ago it was like all music just lost it’s meaning. It took about a year before I picked up a guitar again and I still have a hard time looking at a piano, but when I did I remembered that music is what made me feel the happiest. I feel my ma around me when I’m strumming along to a song. I opened up this music shop to honor her too.”

Bucky shrugged off the jacket he was wearing and showed you the sleeve of tattoos running up his left arm. Black and white piano keys surrounded by blue, purple, orange, and red music notes and frets. 

“I got this to remind myself that music is a part of who I am.” You reached out to touch the inked skin and traced the piano keys up his bicep. It was so beautiful you hadn’t realized how close you had gotten to him until you looked up and his face completely filled your vision.

You cleared your throat and stepped back only to collide with another shelf causing Bucky to cage you into the shelf while boxes of guitar strings fell to the ground around you.

 “I am so sorry I am such a clutz.” You were whispering having lost your voice at the proximity of Bucky once again. 

“It’s okay dove, are you hurt? Nothing hit you right?” Bucky was concerned, his hands rested on your hips as he looked you over. You were sure he could hear your heart drumming in your chest. The rain outside was beating on the roof in perfect harmony, and the soft sounds of the air conditioner seemed to play on key. A beautiful symphony.

 After he was content you weren’t hurt, his eyes met yours before briefly looking at your lips. Your tongue darted out to swipe your bottom lip unconsciously. Bucky’s hands tightened at your waist as he leaned in and met your mouth with his. The kiss was soft and tender. When he pulled away, Bucky smiled and let go of your hips.

 “We should probably get you that ukulele.” He shrugged back on his jacket and pulled down a box. He opened it to show you the beautiful teal ukulele with orange and yellow painted flowers.

“Bucky this is perfect! How much?” Bucky ignored your question and started leading you from the stockroom back to the front of the store. He led you through the door with a hand at the small of your back all the way to the cash register.

“Let’s see, so normally this ukulele runs around $250.” Your face dropped, that was way too expensive for you, but Bucky continued. “But when you apply the birthday discount, the amazing kisser discount, and the going on a date with the owner discount. It comes out to $75.” Bucky smiled devilishly at you.

You crossed your arms and threw him a coy smile. “Going on a date with the owner you say? I don’t remember that conversation happening.” 

You tapped your forefinger on your chin like a metronome. “Even still don’t you think that’s a pretty steep discount? You’ll be losing money.”

“Well, maybe you’re right, but I am the owner so I guess I can sell the merchandise how I see fit. We could talk about it over dinner tonight?” Bucky mused.

You took your bottom lip in between your teeth thinking about his request.

 “Well lucky for you the only thing I had planned for today was getting my niece the perfect birthday present.” You reached into your bag for the cash to pay for the gift and a business card with your personal number on it. “Text me with the details and I’ll meet you there.” 

Bucky handed you the box and took your business card. As you left his shop, the pouring rain now a light drizzle, he picked up his guitar and started strumming the beginning of a new song he hoped you would like.

[bakubabes-tatakae]

A/N: I hope you all enjoy part 1/4 of my pieces for the sixth day of the anniversary collab for the @konoblog-simps​. You can find all the lovely pieces for the day here! Today’s theme is places so head to the Louvre in Paris, France with Overhaul. I’ll be spanning my four pieces throughout the next couple of hours so stay turned. You can find all the days of the collab here!

Pairing: Kai “Overhaul” Chisaki x fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff, fluff, and more fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

The number of times you had begged for Kai to take you out of the hideout had been driving him crazy. He loved you to pieces, but the last thing that he wanted to do was risk anything happening to you. What if the heroes saw you guys out? He couldn’t put you in danger like that. 

But that’s when you had an idea. Why not leave Japan?

So when you entered his office for the fourth time today he knew what you wanted. Just the way you walked in had told him exactly what he was thinking. 

“Kai,” You dragged out his name and slowly closed the office door behind him. Kai closed his eyes and slowly looked up at you. A smile painted his face as your eyes locked. “I had an idea.”

Kai leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “What would that be? I can’t promise that you’ll like my answer.”

You sauntered toward his desk and sat on the edge. “You say we can’t go anywhere and spend the day because you’re worried about the heroes seeing you… but I think I found the solution.”

He took a deep breath and chuckled slightly. “We’ve been talking about this forever.” He watched your face change from calm to excited in a matter of seconds. “What’s your solution?”

You smiled even more and reached for him, waiting for him to grab your hand. Kai reached his hand out, the silk of the white glove felt nice against your palm as you grasped his hand. “France.”

His eyebrows raised slightly and he leaned forward, against his desk. “You wanna go to France?”

You raised his hand to yourself and kissed the back of his hand. “I would love to go to France.” 

You had a feeling that your other half was thinking that you were crazy.

“Why would you wanna go to France?” That’s when it hit him tho. You had always been an art lover, and France was one of the best places for that. 

“I’ve always talked about us going to the Louvre. Maybe now is the time that we go?” You grabbed your cellphone from your pocket. “I’ve already priced tickets, and I have everything all mapped out.” You pointed it toward him to show what you had found.

Kai chuckled at you again and stood from his chair, walking around the desk to your side. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

You reached for his shirt and pulled him closer to you. “Of course I’m serious about this. I want to go somewhere with you. I want to spend the day with each other. And then maybe spend the night in a hotel room.” You winked at him and smiled as you watched the intrigue fill his eyes. 

Kai sighed. “Fine. We’ll go. One weekend in France is all you’re getting right now. I’ll get the guys on the tickets and such.”

You kept your cool, not wanting to jump for joy quite yet. You placed a sight peck to his cheek, just around the mask that covered his face, and stood from the desk. You started to walk from the room and once your hand touched the door handle you heard his voice. 

“Y/n,” You turned to look back. Kai was now back at his desk chair, his hands together as he leaned forward with his elbows on the desk. “I love you.”

You smiled and opened the door. “I love you too, Kai.”

* * * * * *

You could never have anticipated how hard it would be to fly with a man like Kai Chisaki. Sure, you had first-class seats, fewer people were around you, but he was a hot mess. 

Kai wanted off the plane the second that you had gotten on it. But you now had twelve hours for him to panic. Kai looked over at you and leaned down. It had always been odd to see him out of his normal attire. He didn’t dawn the normal green jacket with purple lining today, his plague mask had been left back in Japan, and he had changed his gloves today. 

A soft, black jacket hung from his shoulders, a black mask covered his face, and his gloves were black to match. And to top it all off, the disgusted look on his face made you want to laugh at him. He hadn’t wanted any possibility of someone being from the area you were from and noticing him. “This plane is full of people. What if we get sick?”

You adjusted the mask that you wore, something that had been a stipulation from him before he had agreed to let you get on the plane. “It’s fine Kai, stop worrying yourself.”

The next twelve hours were going to be rough.

* * * * * * 

When the plane touched down he finally calmed down. He was the normal Kai again. Stepping off the plane and into a new place made you catch your breath. You were finally going to be able to spend the entire day with the love of your life. 

As you reached the entrance of the Louvre it hit you even harder. Your day was about to be filled with nothing but happiness. As you stood in line you felt Kai’s hand land on your lower back. It had been a long time since he had been this touchy with you. Your time alone was hitting him. His grip tightened out of protectiveness, but you didn’t mind.

Kai hadn’t realized how badly he had really wanted to spend this time with you. 

It was always all business. He’d see you when you both turned in for the day or when you’d visit the office, but that was nothing like this. He placed his hand into the back pockets of your jeans and pressed a soft kiss to hhe back of your head through his mask, his aura relaxing some. 

You leaned into him and basked in the moment as you realized that he was feeling the same way that you were. 

Entering the Louvre was a surreal moment. Being surrounded by art put you in your happy place. Kai let you venture a little ways from him and admired every second as you glanced around with a smile on your face. You spun around in circles, staring at the art that lined the walls, looking up toward the ceiling and taking everything in.

Kai had never seen you this happy. 

You stepped back toward him and wrapped your arms around him. You would never be able to tell him just how grateful you were that he had brought you to somewhere you had always dreamt of going. 

Kai wrapped you into his arms and held you, looking around and smiling at the masterpieces that surrounded you. “Come on.” He slowly turned you and kept his arm around you shoulder. “Let’s get going. We have a lot to see before we go check into the hotel.”

Every second of the time you spent together was something you would cherish forever. You just wanted to be in his presence. But the little things he whispered into your ear as you walked around made you want to melt where you stood. 

“I love you so much, my angel.” You’d smiled and let your head tilt downward as you tried to not look like an idiot and continue walking. “I wanna spend the rest of my life with you.” Every small sentiment split throughout your time in the Louvre and continuing on when you made your way back to the hotel, a short walk from the museum. “I’m so happy that you convinced me to do this.”

The day wound down quickly, you hadn’t realized just how long you had spent in that place. You hadn’t realized that you had spent more time than any person that had gone through there today. So when you got back to the hotel it was already pretty late. 

Kai unlocked the door and followed you in, closing it softly behind you. You turned to face him and cupped his face in your hands. “See, I told you that everything would be okay if we just left Japan.” You slowly pulled his mask from behind his ears and placed it on the dresser. “I haven’t seen you this happy since we met Kai.”

He placed a hand over yours and his cheeks grew red. “I haven’t truly been this happy in a while. I’m just glad that we finally got some time alone.”

You pressed your lips lightly to his and smiled. “I love you so much, Kai.”

His hand touched the back of your neck as he pushed your lips back to his own. “I love you too, Y/n.”

And with that you both climbed into bed, not bothering to change. The exhaustion of the day puling you both in, both of your eyes closing before you could even untangle your bodies from each other. A side to Overhaul that you never really got to see. 

Taglist: @monic00l​ @strangeinternetwasteland​ @rowley-with-ackerman​ @kyu-pine​ @ellechanwrites​ @bonnisimpparker​ @impinthecloset​ @nikiniki743​ @taliyahvermillion​ @maat-the-prescriptive​ @gonuclear​​

©bakubabes-hatake’s original content, please do not repost/modify without my permission

[fandomscombine]

Make The First Move

George Weasley x Reader

BG: The Yule Ball is only a month away, but the boy you were hoping to ask you out still hasn’t make a move. So you decided to take matters into your own hands.

(With guess appearances of Fred and Cedric)

This is an entry for @heloisedaphnebrightmore​ ’s 1k Followers Writing Challenge

Fluff prompt #1 “Do you find it sexy when girls make the first move, or should I wait for you to do it yourself?”

Fluff prompt #6 “If you want to make a move, today would be the perfect time to go for it.”

Trope #8 Friends to lovers

WC: 2623

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

y/n l/n is not a girly girl. You would categorize your fashion mentality to value comfort and functionality more than style.

Yes, during the weekends, you do tend to rock a graphic tee, jeans, soft sneakers and a outwear of choice, depending on what you’re feeling that day- be it a leather jacket, causal blazer to a denim jacket.

Hey in your defence, the Scottish Highlands where Hogwarts is located isn’t exactly the warmest place, besides students are only allowed to wear casual clothes during the weekends.

But every now and then you do wanna pop on a skirt or a dress, especially when its warm outside.

This upcoming event though…. you, like everyone else is oh so very much do want to feel like a star! To feel elegant! Luxurious!

That’s right the Yule Ball is only a month away. It is all that is in every single student’s mind ever since it was announced. Who would their date to the ball be? What outfit would they wear?

A number of students had already picked their respective dates and dresses. However, a remaining select few have not done either- Like yourself. Time is running out and the pool of available potential partners is decreasing day by day.

You didn’t mind going alone, as long as you have a great time with friends, going alone it isn’t really a big deal. But there is a small childlike wishful thinking that wants to have a fairy tale experience.

It also isn’t helpful that you had started to develop feelings for a certain redheaded twin over the summer. You swear that he too felt the dynamic changed between the two of you- who knew that 3 weeks tinkering with joke shop ideas and fixing out the burrow’s garage could be so impactful.

Though now coming to think of it, could you have just read the signs all wrong? The lingering stares, the tighter and longer hugs… Could this be signs that he planning of ways to murder you? Because if this were all romantic signs, wouldn’t he have had asked you out to the ball by now? It was no secret that you hadn’t said yes to anyone yet.

So, what’s taking so long? George Weasley is one of the most confident and popular guys on campus. Surely, he wouldn’t chicken out or get nervous to ask you.

Right??

Pushing boy trouble aside, you focus back on the dress catalogue your mum had sent you earlier today.

Flipping through the pages, 2 dresses caught you eye. One was a short tule the other had a long side leg slit.

You were in the process of bookmarking the page when you felt the catalogue being pulled out of your grasp.

‘Hey!’ You instinctively shouted to the culprit.

‘What’s this?’ George said, turning to the front cover. ‘“Madam Bella’s Evening Gowns, Autumn/Winter 1994”’

‘Give it back George!’ You tried to take it from him, but he quickly held it above his head.  

You stood on the bench in hopes to extend your reach. You could almost take hold-

‘Catch Freddie!’ Shouted George and threw it across the table.

Fred flipped to the dogeared pages. ‘Ahh..’ He was scanning through the choices you had circled. ‘Great choices indeed, my dear y/n!’

At first you weren’t sure if he was teasing you or being sincere.

That must had shown on your face as Fred continued, ‘I’m serious y/n/n!’ He placed his left hand on his heart and raise his right. ‘I swear! But you would look good in any dress anyway.’

You blushed at his compliment. ‘Thanks for the confidence boost Freddie.’

He hands back the catalogue to you, and as you took it, he whispered in your ear. ‘A little hint though,’ He shifts back a bit- now being face to face. ‘My vote is on the slit dress...’

Your brows scrunched together- was this boy seriously giving you fashion advice?

‘….I know George would like that..’ He steals a quick glance towards his twin, who has now turn bright red, both from being embarrassed and furious at him. ‘… I-I mean, it would match George’s dress robes.’

Fred sends you a final wink and bids you both goodbye.

You watch Fred exit the Great Hall, never letting him out of sight until he turns the corner. Which George to grateful for, as that had bought him time to calm his face down.

That was the one of the weirdest exchanges you’ve ever had yet, but you also couldn’t help but wonder if there was some truth to it.

George cleared his throat ‘So…y/n...Have you got a date yet?’

‘No why?’ You look over at him and you thought that you might give your hypothesis a try. Smirking hopefully, you asked ‘Are you gonna ask me?’

If you only knew what was going on inside of George’s head, the boy was panicking.

It was as if time slowed. Or it was because George’s thoughts are going a thousand miles a second.

Of course, he wanted to ask you to go with him!

But his brain was feeding him of insecurities. What if you didn’t want to go with him? What if you did say yes but only as a friend?

Plus, he didn’t want to ask you in front of all these people, thinking that you might be pressured by the crowd to agree.

No, he wanted to do it in a private, more intimate setting. Deserving of your beauty and grand place to confess his feelings.

He’d dream that in return you would say ‘Yes, I loved to go to the ball with you, George!’ and perhaps even say those 3 words he’s been dying to hear-more in the romantic nature than of friendship- and if he was lucky, maybe even share a kiss, that would be the best case scenario.

The worst-case scenario would be you rejecting him, possibly forever ruining the relationship with his best friend and having his heart broken- at least that case, nobody else would witness that.

‘Eh George?? Georgie?? Hello??’ You frantically wake a hand in front of him. ‘Earth to George Weasley!!!’

Great, when you finally had the courage to ask him to be your date-albeit indirectly- You broke him.

‘uuh.. I… I have to go...’ George looked like a deer caught in headlights

‘What?’

His eyes, dart upwards, thinking of an excuse. ‘Yes, I have to go… GO CLEAN MY SOCKS!’ Unfortunately, for him, in an uncharacteristic manner, he failed to think of a believable lie. ‘I’ll see you later!’

And with that he rushed out the Great Hall, leaving you once again gawking with a confused face at another Weasley twin.

~

You had your back against one of the rock formations near the Black lake, deciding which of the 2 dresses you would be wearing to the ball.

You were enjoying the last good sunny autumn days, taking in the sights of other students having a picnic on this beautiful Saturday. When suddenly a figure had landed right in front of you.

‘Ahhh!’ You had jumped in fright, causing you to slip a bit.

‘I got you, I got you!’ You felt arms holding you tight, preventing you from falling off the rocks.

Once you had regained your balance you check to see the perpetrator that had gave you a heart attack.

‘CEDRIC DIGGORY!!!!!!!! I TOLD YOU TO STOP DOING THAT!!’

The boy chuckled. ‘I know y/n/n, but I just couldn’t help it!’

You narrowed your eyes at him. Which made him laugh even more.

‘You know you love me.’ He gushed, bring you into a hug.

‘And that is my weakness’ Your reply being muffled by his shoulder. You Cedric were as close as brother and sister, having basically grew up together as both your families super close. Your father is best friends with his father and so are your mothers ever since their Hogwarts days. Therefore, naturally you and Cedric have a close bond too, being joined at the hip since birth-the only time part was the 3 months that you are older by.

It has been a while since you two had caught up with each other, him being busy with the Triwizard Tournament ofcourse.

‘Have you got any idea about the second task?’

‘Yeahh’ Cedric gulped.

You crocked a brow. Not buying his bullshit.

Cedric scratched the back of his neck. ‘Fine, I haven’t….’ Gazing towards the lake, he continued. ‘But I think it’s got something to do about the water.’

You take hold of his hand. ‘Hey, it’s alright. You’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it out.’

‘Thanks y/n. I thought initially you wouldn’t be against me joining.’ He confessed.

‘You know I would support you no matter what. But don’t get me wrong, I’m worried for you Ced, always am. The tournament just upped it to level 1000! But I know that you have it in you to win this, to be the Triwizard Champion!’ You beamed. ‘Imagine that Ced, a Triwizard Champion in the family!’

‘It would be great, would it?’

‘Now to the matter at hand, The Yule Ball.’

‘What about it?’

‘Have you asked someone yet? You enquired.

‘Well there is this gorgeous lady that I’ve been meaning to ask…’ He hinted. ‘Though I am waiting for the right opportunity to ask her, you see everything has to be perfect!’

‘Awww, what an absolute sweetheart!’ You swooned.

Behind Cedric, you could have sworn that you saw someone in the trees. However, in your eagerness to know more of Cedric’s possible date, you brushed it off as the swaying of the branches and falling autumn leaves.

‘How about you? Has Mr. Beater asked you yet?’

You sighed. ‘Not exactly…’

Cedric leaned forward with hands on his chin, interested to hear more.

‘He asked if I had got a date yet, to which I said no. Then teased if he was gonna ask me.’ You recalled. ‘Then he froze. I guess I broke him, cause the next thing he said was that he’s got to go clean his socks.’

That had Cedric doubling over. ‘George really said that?!?!!?’ He had his arms wrapped around his stomach. ‘Clean his socks?!!??’

‘Yeah yeah yeah, laugh all you want Diggory. But you still hadn’t asked Cho out yet.’

‘Heyy! I told you I am waiting for the right moment!’

‘C’mon Ced, Sweet intentions aside. Cho has been declining offers to the ball, time is running out and I bet she is getting tired waiting for you to make a move, especially this close to the ball.’ You know how much Cedric likes Cho and hate to see him sad if and when Cho doesn’t get tired of waiting for him. ‘Sooner or later she might just say yes to some other guy, cause you’re talking so long!’

‘I’m sorry Cedric.’ You had realized that you projected your own frustrations on him. ‘I didn’t mean to go off on you like that.’

‘I know y/n, it’s alright really.’ He smiled, having come up with an idea ‘How about this, the next time you see George, YOU ask him out?’ He suggested.

‘ME?!?’

‘Yes.’ He insisted. ‘That why we would get a definite answer. And this time not more asking in an indirectly direct way. - We don’t want another system error in that head of his. Deal?’

‘Deal’

Picking up the discarded catalogue, he remarked. ‘Hmmm, I think that the long one would suit the occasion better, don’t you think? Being it a formal event and all.’

You agreed. ‘and you‘re not the first one to say that too.’ You muttered-more to yourself.

‘Huh?’

‘Nothing!’

‘So what color are you thinking? Blue or…’

‘Oh I got that all figured out! I was thinking that since the point of the Triwizard Tournament is school unity, I want the grown to be featuring my house colours.’

~

Fred had ran back to the Gryffindor dormitories as fast as he could. Glad to spot that his twin brother laying down on the bed.

As much as he enjoys teasing his siblings. He could no longer endure the obliviousness of his brother and y/n. He can no longer take the constant nonessential pining, especially when they obviously like each other.

Fred had been trying to get them together for the past month, but it seems that subtly pushing them to the right direction isn’t working. Which leaves him with no choice.

‘If you want to make a move, today would be the perfect time to go for it’ Stated Fred.

‘What?’

‘I can’t take it anymore Georgie!’ He grabs his brother by the collar. ‘I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE! I KNOW YOU LIKE Y/N AND BELIEVE ME GEOGRE WHEN I SAY THAT SHE LIKES YOU BACK OKAY.’ Fred pleads, shaking George with each word. ‘AND YOU HAVE GOT TO MAKE A MOVE TODAY! NOW! ASK HER TO THE BALL BEFORE CEDRIC DOES.’

George now dizzy, mumbled. ‘What? How?.....How do you know this?’

‘I saw them together at the lake and me being the best brother that you have decided to eavesdrop.’ Fred admitted. ‘And guess what, Cedric plans to ask a gorgeous lady- y/n- to the yule ball but is just finding the perfect opportunity.’

‘Therefore, brother dearest, it’s only a matter of time til that happens. And I your very supportive wingman urge you to freaking ask y/n out RIGHT NOW before it’s too late.’

That news that Cedric might ask y/n to the ball before he does, had put George back into his senses.

In record time, George had tidy up his clothes and fixed his hair. ‘Right.’ He turned to Fred who was looking smug leaning on the door frame. ‘How do I look?’

‘Smashing.’

‘Great, Now get out of the way you prick.’

~

George was busy thinking on how to ask y/n out to the yule ball and possibly even side in the chance to ask to go on a date with him, when he accidentally bumped into someone.

‘Wooooahh careful George!’

Damnit! he thought, out of all the people in this huge school, he just had to bump into the one person he doesn’t want to see.

‘Diggory.’ George growled.

‘You two alright?’ Said a voice beside them.

In his annoyance towards Cedric, George hadn’t noticed that you were close by. ‘Yeah, I’m good.’

‘Heyy’ Cedric interrupted. George had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. ‘I’ll see you later okay?’

Cedric kissed your forehead and whispered. ‘Good luck.’

This was is. George interpreted that sibling affection as you going out with Cedric to the ball.

Accepting defeat, he cleared his throat. ‘I guess imma go too-‘

‘Wait George!’ You held onto his arm to prevent him from leaving. ‘I wanted to ask you something.’

‘Go ahead.’ Replied George, curious onto what it is that is so important to ask him.

‘Do you find it sexy when girls make the first move, or should I wait for you to do it yourself?’

‘Hmm?’ George once again confused.

‘Gosh you are slow sometimes aren’t you.’ You chuckled. You take a step closer to him, coming up face to face. ‘George Weasley will you go to the ball with me?’

It took a second for George to believe what he was hearing. ‘YES!!’ He exclaimed then recomposed himself. ‘Yes, I would love to go to the ball with you.’

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he decided to take it one step further- cause what else has he got to lose? ‘Will you y/n l/n go on a date with me?’

You bring your arms to his neck, his him close. ‘I’d love nothing more.’ You grinned, pulling him into a long awaited kiss.

 Taglist [All/General]: @gruffle1​

[captainsolare]

Summary: In this world, you see life in shades of gray until you touch your soulmate. Bakugo has always been scared to meet that fated soulmate, but when he saves you while doing hero work, he has no choice.

Tags: gender neutral reader, warning: description of dangerous situation (hostage), soulmate AU

A/N: I always get carried away with the word count when it comes to Bakugo, he's just so interesting to write for! I hope you enjoy this, it's my first long fic in a while. This isn't a birthday fic but happy birthday Bakugo!

Bakugo hated being touched. He remembered the day exactly, he had asked his mother how she and Masaru had met. “Well, you know how you can’t see color?” He nodded, the world around him wasn’t just varying shades of gray, or so he had been told. “Well, once you meet your soulmate and touch them, the world will erupt into beautiful colors all around you, and that’s how you know they’re the one.”

Bakugo’s face scrunched up, “And then you’re stuck with them forever?” Mitsuki laughed, lightly slapping her son on the arm, “Yes, I suppose you are.”

Bakugo found the thought revolting. Would seeing the colors around him really be worth giving up the most private parts of yourself? Your fears, secrets, inner thoughts, habits? What if his soulmate was a stranger to him? What if his soulmate met him and hated him? What if his soulmate didn’t want the world around them to change and it was his fault? If he was honest with himself he didn’t know if he could handle that.

Bakugo went through his school years secretly frightened he would somehow meet his soulmate. At UA, before every combat training, he prayed his world wouldn’t change, that today would not be the day he would meet his soulmate. It never was, and as he lay in bed, he wasn’t sure whether he was relieved or disappointed.

Time passed, and here he was, a fresh-faced pro-hero, at a restaurant with his friends. Denki, Izuku, and Eijirou all had their arms wrapped around their soulmates and he found himself wondering what he looked like to them, in color. “Are you going to go out and find your soulmate soon?” Denki asked, his voice grating against his ears like sandpaper. Izuku slapped his hand, “Denki you can’t just ask people that!” Bakugo was at a loss for words, then again he hadn’t really ever told his friends the truth of why he didn’t want to. “I need some air.”

He took a sip of his drink and slammed it on the table, leaving for the relative safety of the patio. He heard footsteps behind him a few moments later and he scooted over to make room for whoever it was. A jacket was draped around his shoulders, “You forgot your jacket.” It was Kirishima, his voice unmistakable, even in the dark of the night. “Thanks.”

“Is it scary?” Bakugo asked after a while. Kirishima smiled, knowing this was his friend opening up to him. “Of course, the whole world changes around you and suddenly you have this new person you feel obligated to get to know.” Bakugo’s heart sank, it was looking more and more like it was just how he thought it would be. “But it’s worth it. You meet the person meant for you and they literally change your life. You get to see the world in a whole new way and the best part is you’re not in it alone, you have your soulmate with you, and that is a beautiful thing.”

“Does that make you feel better about it?” Bakugo nodded, the words washing over him.

“I believe you’ll meet them when you’re ready to. Don’t let Denki rush you in this.”

The pair went inside to return to their friends, but as soon as they got there a villain alert came through on their cell phones. “Crap, let’s go get suited up.”

The site was a massive building collapse, three villains were reportedly still in the area and unaccounted for. “Red Riot, can you help me move away these portions of concrete?” A hero asked, and Kirishima nodded, dashing off to go help.

Bakugo looked around for how he could help, eyes scanning for where he was most needed. There was a flash as a spotlight was illuminated and up on a nearby roof and he saw a villain holding a person dangling over the edge. He growled, what did they think this was? Some sort of theatrical production?

“Deku, you’re good at negotiating so while you distract them I’ll go from behind.”

Deku nodded and turned his attention to the roof, “You don’t have to do this! That is an innocent person you’re holding hostage.” “I don’t care,” the villain yelled, “I need transport out of here!” “Okay, we can do that, but it’s going to take some time.”

Bakugo made his way around the building to the fire escape, it would be faster to propel himself up the building but he couldn’t risk spooking the villain while they had a hostage. Carefully but quickly he scaled the fire escape, reaching the roof in a matter of minutes. “Where’s my helicopter?!” The villain yelled, it was clear this was a desperate situation. As Bakugo crept closer a massive gust of wind picked up, causing the villain’s grip on the person to slip a little.

“Woah woah woah!” he heard Deku yell from down below, “Can you please bring the hostage back over the edge, we don’t want anyone getting hurt.” The villain suddenly dropped the person, it was unclear whether on purpose or accident, but it didn’t matter, Bakugo threw himself off the edge with his quirk, catching the person in his arms and using an arm to propel them safely to the ground below. As they landed, it was like a bomb went off, the world around him was suddenly very loud, the bright flashing lights were oppressive. In the shuffle of his delirium the person he had rescued was whisked away to an ambulance to be checked out and he was suddenly being supported by someone else.

“Katsuki, Katsuki! Hey man, are you okay?” Kirishima asked, lightly slapping his face in an attempt to bring him back to the real world. Bakugo shook his head, trying to make sense of why the world suddenly looked so different. Had Kirishima always looked like that? Was his hair so bright? Kirishima’s mind raced, he didn’t know what was happening to Bakugo, or what to do, had he been hit with some quirk?

“Take me home.”

Kirishima nodded, and helped Bakugo to his car, then drove him to his apartment. Kirishima fumbled with the keys but unlocked the door and turned on the lights. “Do you want me to stay? I can work on my paperwork here.” Bakugo barely had the energy to nod, trudging straight to the bathroom to take off his hero gear and wash this, whatever it was, away.

The shower was turned on and Bakugo stood in front of the mirror with a pit in his stomach and his eyes closed. He dreaded what he would find if he opened his eyes, no no no, this could not be happening. He opened his eyes, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror before it was obscured by steam. The confirmation that this was really happening to him felt heavy in his chest. He had met his soulmate, and he didn’t even know their name.

He climbed in the shower not bothering to stand up and as the water dripped down his cheeks he couldn’t tell if it was the shower or the tears.

Bakugo stayed in the shower until the water turned freezing. He slowly climbed out and got dressed, then with a hand wiped away the steam. He leaned forward, taking in his reflection as it truly was.

His mother’s voice echoed in his mind.

“Your eyes are red, a deep deep red that holds fire and the warmth of the world.”

“Your hair is an ashy blond, like mine.”

Kirishima awoke with a start as the bathroom door opened. Bakugo sat next to him on the couch heavily and studied his face intently. Kirishima was tempted to ask what was going on, but decided against it, Bakugo would open up eventually. “Your hair, it’s red?”

Kirishima nodded, then his eyes widened. “Wait, do you? Can you?” Bakugo nodded, eyes downcast towards his pants, they were black, at least he thought so. “Bakugo that’s amazing!” Kirishima exclaimed, hands reaching to clasp his friend’s. “I-- I guess so.”

“So the civilian from last night?” Bakugo nodded, “I think so.”

Kirishima looked at his watch, then smiled widely. “Do you want to see something amazing?”

Katsuki was hesitant but nodded, and the pair went up on the roof. They sat down, and Kirishima told him to close his eyes.

“What are we waiting for?”

Soon, Kirishima tapped him on the shoulder, “Open your eyes.”

Katsuki couldn’t help but gasp as he opened his eyes, soft oranges and pinks and golds laid across the sky as the sun rose. “This is what a sunrise looks like?”

Kirishima nodded, “Beautiful isn’t it?”

Katsuki was breathless as he replied, “Yes, it is.”

The heroes were given the day off after the night’s events, and Kirishima made it his mission to find Bakugo’s soulmate’s identity.

Bakugo looked up as Kirishima entered the apartment. “It took some time, but I was able to find the address of the cafe your soulmate works at. Their name is (Y/N, L/N). No guarantees they’re working today, after last night’s ordeal but it won’t hurt to check it out.” He swallowed thickly as he took the note from Kirishima’s hand.

“Want me to take you?” Kirishima asked. “Yes, let me get ready.”

Katsuki looked at his wardrobe with fresh eyes. What colors look good on him? What should he wear? This was his soulmate after all, isn’t that kind of a big deal? His chest felt tight as he held up a fitted t-shirt in the mirror. “Oi Kirishima, what color is this?”

Kirishima peered around the corner, “It’s blue.”

“Blue.” Katsuki repeated, the word felt strange on his tongue.

He picked out a pair of black jeans and shoes to go with it. “Okay, let’s go.”

Kirishima drove to the coffeeshop and idled the car outside. “Thanks for this, Kirishima.”

“Of course.”

Bakugo got out of the car and paused in front of the cafe door, hands sweatier than normal, heart beating unlike it had ever before.

Waves of brown hit him as he entered the shop, it was filled with neutral tans and grays as well. A woman at the counter greeted him, “Hello! What can I get you today?” Bakugo swallowed, throat tight. “Um, hi, I’m looking for L/N Y/N?”

The woman smiled, “You must be the one, let me check in the back.”

He clenched his fists as the woman disappeared through the back curtain. In a moment he’d be able to look upon your face, the person he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with and he didn’t know if he was excited or terrified. Both, he decided, definitely both.

You ducked through the curtain slowly, he knew it was you the moment he saw the curtain move. You took a deep breath and met his gaze for the first time. Your chest was tight as you ducked around the counter to shake your soulmate’s hand, this was the man who had saved your life last night, and had quite literally brought new color into your life.

He was handsome, a bit rough around the edges maybe from what you’d heard, but he was beautiful in your eyes. Bakugo could scarcely breathe, you were breathtaking, sharper and more in focus than the rest of the world in that moment.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you.” You said, heart pounding as he took your hand in his. “Want to grab a seat? I’ll bring us some drinks and we can chat… If you want to that is! Unless you don’t which is---” Damn, you were cute when you were flustered. He could feel himself falling already. “I do. Can you get me a black coffee?”

He grabbed the booth by the window and you returned a bit later, setting his mug down before sliding in across from him.

“Thank you for saving me last night.” You said, unsure of how to start this conversation. Bakugo nodded, “Just doing my job.”

The silence was awkward as you both took sips of your still-too hot coffees.

“This may be kind of weird but can you tell me your real name? I know your hero name but that might be a little weird to call you by considering our relationship.”

Bakugo mentally hit himself, why didn’t he introduce himself earlier? “It’s Katsuki, Katsuki Bakugo.”

“Katsuki.” You tried the name out, somehow it felt right to say. It felt as if that name had lived on the tip of your tongue your whole life, but you’d only recently been given the words to say it.

Your smiles met, “It’s nice to meet you Katsuki. I’d love to get to know you better, maybe over dinner?”

“I can certainly arrange that. You have a piece of paper and a pen?”

You nodded and pulled out a pad of paper from your apron.

He scribbled an address on it and handed it back to you. “That’s my apartment address, come at 7PM and I’ll make you the best dinner you’ve had in your life.”

You laughed, “Alright, looking forward to it.”

After a few more minutes of chatting, you escorted him to the door of the cafe. “I’ll see you tonight Y/N.” He said, lightly intertwining his pinky with yours. “See you tonight, soulmate.”

[mldrgrl]

How Stella Got Her Groove Back

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG-13 Summary: Just a little something to celebrate spring...and Stella’s birthday!

They left Connecticut in September, with a fair amount of reluctance to go, but they needed to return to the city.  Becca had already gone and though both Karen and Fish insisted they were welcome to stay longer, stay forever if they had to, at a certain point, Hank and Stella had just been missing their loft and their life in New York too much.  Of course, they knew that what they were returning to was not the life they were accustomed to, but they would have to learn to adapt to the new normal.

Winter was long and brutal.  They did spend two weeks over Christmas and New Years back in Connecticut again and that was the first time they’d seen Becca since July, and the last time they would see her until spring.  Karen had tried to coerce them all to stay again and Hank and Stella nearly gave in.  If not for the fact that Stella left a project behind she’d been working on for her classes and if Hank had brought the pages he’d been working on for his new novel, they just might have done it.

When they got back to New York, and in a cabin fever-induced moment of weakness, they hired a landscape architect to design their rooftop terrace and though the noise of construction aggravated the hell out of both of them, they were both pleased with the results.  They now had an artificial lawn of soft green turf, an outdoor patio daybed in the shape of a cube with canvas shades on all four sides, a wet bar, strategically placed heating lamps, and a wood burning fire pit.  Unbeknownst to them, when Fish had heard their plans, he’d called the company they hired, ordered them a charcoal grill, and told the contractor to keep it a surprise.  They were very surprised by the barbeque that was suddenly part of the design, but it looked nice, even if it wouldn’t get any use.

Finding ways to fill the time with nowhere to go and no one to see was extremely difficult.  Neither of them were very much into television or movies.  The terrace, as welcome as it was, wasn’t finished until the end of February.  Stella had the classes she was teaching and the child psychology classes she was enrolled in to keep her fairly busy during the days, but Hank could only write for so many hours at a time and he found that he actually missed helping Fish with the guitar lessons.  He grumbled to Stella that ‘that damn Trout’ bewitched him somehow and then begrudgingly called him up and asked if he could still help out remotely.  Fish was delighted by the request and sent him an iPad and a teaching schedule.  

The close quarters had caused a few squabbles, though nothing major.  They took a few online cooking classes together which produced some mediocre meals and a testy exchange on the appropriate amount that constituted a ‘pinch of salt.’  Beyond that, they managed not to take out any frustrations on each other.

It was April 1st when Stella wandered from the bathroom to the bedroom in her t-shirt and sweatpants, rubbing lotion into her hands and arms.  Hank was in bed, perhaps naked, or perhaps wearing jockey shorts, she couldn’t be sure.  He had his guitar across his lap and his head back so that he gazed at the ceiling while he plucked lightly at the strings.

“Hank,” she said, leaning into the foot of the bed with slightly bended knees.

“Do you think ‘oral’ actually rhymes with ‘clorital’ or is it cheating?” he replied.

“You know that next week is my birthday.”

Hank splayed his hand out on the guitar and looked at her.  “Is this a trick question?”

“Not at all.”

“So, if I say ‘yes, of course, your birthday is April 7th and I already know I’m not to mention it to anyone,’ is that the wrong answer because I’m not supposed to acknowledge it in the first place?”

“I am aware that in the past I have requested that my birthday be treated as any other day.”

“Mmhm.”

“I’ve been thinking that perhaps...I might like to celebrate this year after all.”

“Oh, I get it.  April fools.  You could’ve just put plastic wrap on the toilet or secretly replaced my regular coffee with Folgers.”

“I’m serious.”

“Ah, so the one year it’s impossible to throw a party, you want to have a party?”

“God, no.  Parties are awful.”

“Well, what then?”

“Brunch?  With Becca?  This weekend, or the next, perhaps.  There are more places opening up now.  We could-”

“Absolutely, Sherlock.  Whatever the suggestion, I am all in.”  He pushed his guitar aside and she was mildly disappointed to discover that he was in his jockey shorts after all and not naked. He scooted forward to the end of the bed and wrapped his arms around her hips.

“A walk in the park, maybe?”

“Not sure if my legs remember what walking is at this point, so it’ll be good to remind them.”  He moved his hands down to the backs of her thighs and gave them a squeeze and then cupped her ass.  “Why the sudden change of heart, Sherlock?”

“I’ve just been thinking lately that it’s perfectly acceptable to want to celebrate being alive.  After the year we’ve had.”

“I agree, but as long as I get to have my breakfast in bed in bed that day, I’ll be happy.”

“It’s my birthday, I’m not bringing you breakfast in bed.”

“Oh, honey, you are the breakfast,” he growled, wrapping his arms around her again and pulling her into him as he fell back onto the bed.

*****

The Saturday before her birthday was Easter weekend.  There was no rain in the forecast and Becca was available, so it was perfect.  They took a Lyft to the upper west side and met her at a French bistro that had outdoor seating.  Stella could tell right away that something was bothering Becca, that she was putting on a false front of cheerfulness, which was very unlike her, but if she did know her stepdaughter, she knew the girl could not keep up pretenses for long.

They ordered and waited for their food over bottomless mimosas and miniature ham and cheese croissants served as an appetizer.  It wasn’t cold, but a cool breeze would drift by every so often and Stella was glad she had left her hair down so that her ears were covered.  She wished she’d been a bit more practical though and worn pants.  She’d just felt like dressing up and at the last minute, put on an olive-colored dress with small printed white flowers on it, but at least it was long-sleeved and she had a white sweater.  Becca and Hank were like twins in their matching leather jackets and dark jeans.

“Are you working on anything?” Becca asked Hank.

“Almost finished,” he answered.

“Oh.  What’s it about?”

“A couple that’s been married for fifteen years, but they’re on the brink of the divorce when the pandemic hits and then they go from spending almost no time together to all of their time together and it’s disastrous at first, but then they end up learning a lot about each other.”

“So, they save their marriage?”

“No, they end up getting divorced anyway.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“It’s fiction, sweetheart.”

“People like happy endings.”

“People are stupid.  I didn’t say it didn’t have a happy ending though.  Are you working on anything, Daughter?”

Becca sighed and picked at her nails.  Stella put a hand on Hank’s knee under the table.

“Is something bothering you, Darling?” Stella asked.

“No.  Yeah.  No.  I don’t wanna ruin your birthday or anything when it’s the first birthday we’ve ever celebrated together.”

Stella gave Becca a brief smile.  “I don’t know if your father has told you why I’ve always been rather reluctant to celebrate my birthday.”

Becca shook her head.  Hank stretched his arm out behind Stella’s chair and put his hand on her back.  She gave his knee a squeeze of appreciation.

“My father passed away on my fourteenth birthday,” Stella said.  “So, Darling, you have a high bar to overcome if you think being in a low mood will ruin my birthday.”

“That sucks about your dad, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.”  Stella looked to Hank for a moment and then back to Becca.  “I’ve spent many years trying to ignore the date as though if I didn’t acknowledge it, it’s like it had never happened.  I don’t think I really understood until quite recently that one is capable of being sad and grateful at the same time.  And that life should be celebrated.  Especially now.”

“I guess I’m just...when we were up at Mom’s house, everything was so easy and nice and I had a really hard time writing.  That’s why I wanted to leave.  It was way too peaceful.”

“You know if I had a dollar for every time Becca claimed my shit was fucking her up, I’d be richer than that fucking Amazon guy, and now it sounds like she wants to file a grievance that we’re not fucking her up enough.”

“Am not.”  Becca rolled her eyes.

“Don’t listen to him,” Stella said.  “He’s been so mired with boredom lately he has regular calls with Fish.”

“No!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Hank protested, putting his hands up in defense.  “There was and will only be one bromance in my life and that’s with one Mr. Charles Runkle, that follically challenged motherfucker.  No better pairing existed except for maybe Bert and Ernie, or Sid and Nancy.”

“I think we should let Becca continue with what she was trying to say.”

“Thank you.”  Becca put her hand up as though she was blocking Hank from her view and he reached over and slapped her palm away.  “As I was saying, I left because I thought the serenity was blocking me in some way, but since I’ve been back, it’s like the opposite.  It felt so apocalyptic at first and desperate.  It was like impossible to sit down and put words together when there were so many shitty things happening outside.  What if...what if the next thing I finish, people will be like oh, she was just sitting inside writing while everyone else was dying?”

“There will always be shitty things happening outside,” Hank said.  

“Great advice, Dad.”

“I don’t mean to bitchslap you with reality, but the world being shitty isn’t a reason to give up.”

“I’m not giving up.”

“Good, because you are way more fucking talented than I could ever even hope to be.”

“I just don’t know if it matters.  If anyone should care.”

“Why should you concern yourself with that?”

Becca glared at Hank, clearly annoyed with the answer.

“I know you think I’m being facetious,” Hank said, quickly.  “But, I’m not.  If all anyone wanted to read was about things that ‘mattered’ that 50 Shades of Hot Garbage would never have sold a single copy.  You don’t know why people read what you write.  Maybe they want to escape the shitty things happening in the world.  Maybe they want to laugh or cry or be turned on.  Maybe they just need something to pass the time.”

“Five minutes ago you just said people were stupid for wanting happy endings, now you’re saying I should just give them garbage, if that’s what they want.”

“Yeah, I’m a fucking hypocrite, what else is new, but I just want you to be happy with what you’re doing.  You want me to buy you a new laptop?”

“I’m not twelve anymore.  You can’t just buy my happiness.”

“Worth a shot.”

“Becca,” Stella finally interjected.  “I think it’s obvious by now that your father may possibly be the world’s worst motivational speaker.”

“Or the world’s best unmotivational speaker,” Hank said.  “You see what I did there?  I turned a negative into a positive.”

Both Stella and Becca ignored the comment.

“I think I may understand what he’s trying to say though,” Stella said.  “I’m not a creator, but I’ve been a consumer.  When I was reading for pleasure, I certainly wasn’t reaching for mystery novels.  And I think that...popularity and quality are two different things.  Certainly, one would hope for both, but it isn’t always the case.  I know you and I know that quality is important to you, so perhaps you should only focus on if what you’re working on is the best that it can be and not on whether or not it matters.”

“Can I add something to that?” Hank asked.

“Not if you plan on fucking up everything Stella just said,” Becca answered.

“I’ve done at least a dozen online events this year and at every single one, someone has asked me when the next Rebecca Moody novel is going to be released or they want to know what you’re working on.  I’m not even entirely sure all of them are there to hear my Q&A or if they just showed up because they know I’m your dad and they think you might make a guest appearance.  And if one person takes umbrage with you for creating something during a time of utter hell, fuck them.”

“Without art, the crudeness of reality would make the world unbearable,” Stella quoted.

“That sounds so much hotter when you say it than George Bernard Shaw,” Hank replied, rubbing his hand across Stella’s upper back.

“Okay, I don’t want to spend this day being miserable,” Becca said, shaking her head and shoulders like she was trying to rid herself of negativity.  “Thank you, Stella.”

“You’re welcome, darling girl.”

“Hey, what about me?” Hank asked.

“There is this jacket I saw online that I want,” Becca answered, cheekily raising one of her eyebrows and tilting her head.

“I’ll text you my credit card number later.”

“Thank you, Father.”

*****

Brunch was followed by a stroll in Central Park and it seemed that at least half of the city had the same idea.  It was interesting being in a place so crowded and yet also so open.  The decent weather and the cherry blossoms in full bloom probably had something to do with it.  What also would have felt strange a year ago, seeing everyone wearing face masks and wearing them as well, was oddly comforting.  When Stella had put hers on that morning before they walked out the door, Hank told her she looked like a sexy brain surgeon or cardiologist, whichever one was smarter or made more money.

When they came upon Bethesda Fountain, there was a small band playing salsa music and a few couples dancing.  Hank tried to imitate the steps and then grabbed Becca’s hand and spun her around under his arm.  She laughed and tried to break free of him, but he pulled her back in and tried to get her to dance.

“Da-ad,” Becca protested.

“Dance with me, Daughter.”

“I don’t dance.”

“You’re no fun.”  Hank let go of Becca’s hand and then grabbed Stella’s.

“Oh, no,” she said.

“Come on, Sherlock.  I know you’ve probably got some moves I’ve never seen.”

“I assure you that’s not true,” she answered, letting him spin her away though and then laughed as he gyrated his hips dramatically as he stepped back towards her.  “Whatever it is that you’re doing does not resemble the salsa in any way.”

“Let me see you do better.”

Stella looked past Hank to the other dancers and mimicked the forward and back steps.  She put a hand on Hank’s chest to keep him at arm’s length and prevent their knees from colliding as he tried to fall into the same step with her, moving forward when she stepped back, and back when she stepped forward.  What he lacked in grace, he made up for with enthusiasm.  As soon as they fell into sync, he grabbed her hand and lifted her other arm in a more formal dance frame like the other dancers had.

What followed was probably the worst and most amateurish version of a salsa that had ever been danced, but Stella laughed so hard it brought tears to her eyes.  When the music ended, Hank stopped and pulled Stella’s face mask down under her chin before lowering his own and then kissing her through both of their laughter.

The dancing couples broke apart and drifted back into the crowd.  Becca went over and dropped some money into the cup on the ground in front of the band and thanked them for playing.  Stella took Hank’s hand and then Becca linked her arm with Stella’s as they continued on.

Later that night, when Stella came out of the bathroom as she rubbed lotion into her hands and arms, she stopped at the foot of the bed and watched Hank read over the latest pages of his novel.  When she was finished, she climbed onto the bed and walked over to Hank on her knees until she was straddling his lap.  He threw his pages down, took his reading glasses off, and pulled her close with his hands on her ass.

“Thank you,” Stella said, as Hank kissed the side of her neck.

“For what?”

“This truly was the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

“Your birthday’s not until Wednesday.”

“Perhaps next year we’ll even be able to invite Karen and Fish to town.”

“We’ll make The Trout christen that barbeque he forced on us.”

“It does look nice though.”

“It really does.  You want your present now, or should I wait until Wednesday?”

“I might be interested in a preview,” she said, sliding her hand down his chest and then into his shorts.  “A little peak at the package ahead of time.”

“You just assumed I was talking about fucking when I said I had something for you?”

“Weren’t you?”

Hank paused and then grinned.  “Yeah, I was.”

The End

[belit0]

1500k Commission [Uchiha Obito / Fem Reader] @obitobrigade

🌹My Ko-Fi page [Commissions are open!]

Obito x Coffy NSFW baking chocolate chip cookies at home. *coffy is a thick thighs/ booty girl, nerdy, wears glasses, freckles... *

[Drawing by @obitobrigade TO USE IT ASK HER PERMISSION, IT IS HER CREATION, DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION!]

Under the rain, Obito runs, trying to take shelter under every roof or balcony he finds to avoid the icy water falling from the sky. Of course, he doesn't carry an umbrella, he always thought he was too cool for such things, although at times like these he regrets it.

He bumps into several people before managing to stop at the door of a shop, with his jacket soaked and his jeans completely wet. Frustrated and grumbling, he reaches into the pocket of his tight trousers and looks for the paper you gave him before leaving.

The note is ruined, breaking because of the humidity and with the ink dripping on its surface.

"How am I supposed to know what ingredients to buy now? How were those cookies made? She's going to kill me..."

Slapping his face, he grunts, scolding himself before the grey panorama of the city. He has only fifteen minutes before the shops start closing, and he doesn't even remember what he had to take home.

Of course, his pride is too great to return empty-handed, that is why, angry and motivated not to disappoint you, he sets off again, adjusting the hood of his jacket over his head and running to his destination, avoiding pedestrians.

Eventually he arrived at the supermarket where the shopping was usually done, with about 10 minutes left before the doors closed. In desperation, he did not hesitate and entered like a hurricane, leaving a trail of water behind him on the dry floor. His panicked face prevented anyone from daring to tell him anything, and with a hasty pace but without being able to trot, he headed for the first shelf he found, without even knowing what he was looking for.

Fortunately, there was an employee there, a young man with brown hair and red marks on his face. The teenager smelled like a dog, as if he hadn't bathed for days, but that would have to be enough. Although being a shy person, someone who hates unnecessary contact or interactions, Obito was forced to approach and talk to him, being his last chance to achieve his goal.

The boy was placing products in their respective places, with headphones and chewing gum noisily, when the Uchiha touched his shoulder and scared him.

"WHAT THE FUCK MAN?! DON'T YOU KNOW HOW TO KNOCK?!"

"What the...? Never mind. Kid, I need your help."

"Why do you think I'm wearing this stupid uniform, old man?"

"You little piece of shit, tell me what ingredients I need to make chocolate chip cookies."

"Nothing is free in life, you know? I have to buy food for my dog, I have to pay for my food, I have to..."

Taking money out of his wet pocket, Obito cursed the teenager lowly, who smiled smugly at having won the hand.

"Take it and shut up. Tell me what I need or I'll wait for you outside until your shift is over.

"Don't you have a nursing home to go back to? This way, I'll share with you the recipe my mom uses."

After getting what was needed according to that child, Obito left the shop with a bag of groceries, hoping to have bought what was needed and not to disappoint you when he got home.

Running again in the rain, the trip to your flat was much quicker. His anxiety to get there and be dry, warm and comfortable next to you was too much. Until he remembered that he might have picked up the wrong ingredients and wanted the earth to swallow him up.

His intengrity as Uchiha was at stake.

The Uchihas never make mistakes, that is the first basic rule of the clan.

Arriving at the door, he used the key that you had given him some time ago to enter, being grateful not to feel the cold of the wind and water on his soaked body. He made his way to the elevator and headed to your floor, finding your entrance quickly and getting in without announcing himself.

But of course you were there to welcome him.

"Obi, you really should have taken an umbrella... it's not such a big deal you know?

" Over my dead body [Y/N], none of that.

"You're soaked! There's not a part of your clothes that doesn't drip with water! Go to the bathroom and take a hot shower please, I don't want you to get sick"

Removing the grocery bag from his hand and closing the door, you pushed him into the bathroom, leaving him to take care of himself. Being that you had been together for some time, it was usual to find his clothes among your things, so it was not strange to get a change of underwear and a pair of trousers. No luck with the shirt.

It took him a while to finish, as the warm feeling on his body after being mistreated by the frost was like paradise. When he came out, you offered him the clothes you had available, and although you also gave him the option of a sweater he didn't want to accept it, remaining without a shirt and with his chest in the air.

His heart stopped when you opened the bag and started to take out the ingredients, placing them on the kitchen table and putting on the cooking apron. But by not telling him anything, by not reproaching him for bringing the wrong flour, the wrong milk, how bad the butter was, his body began to relax. Staying by your side, he observed your features as you started to work, your dark hair falling on your shoulders and its beautiful volume, your freckles hidden under your glasses, your hips embraced beautifully by your trousers.

His eyes were feasting when your voice woke him up.

"Come on sir, you have to help me, no looking!”

"Yes, ma'am!"

Both put hands to work, and Obito's concentration managed to last a short time in the work he was doing, before getting lost again in your figure, in your profile, in your thighs, in how easily you managed to make him laugh just by smiling.

Your presence was light in his life, and nobody could replicate it.

Positioning himself behind you, he put his hands back on the kitchen table, working again while his bare chest was stuck behind your back and his waist was pressed against your butt.

When his member found that cozy space between your rear, his hands completely forgot what to do with the cookies, and you found no reason to complain. His movements were soft and gentle, his hips swayed from side to side, letting you feel his cock getting harder and harder just by touching you over your clothes, and his abs acted as support for your body when you needed to lean back.

"Don't stop working, I want to eat those today.”

"But you did stop working...”

"I'm about to work on another cookie, if you know what I mean...”

Kneeling on the floor, Obito lowered your trousers and underwear, exposing your pussy which was beginning to get wet without shame. Almost like a hungry man, he held your buttocks with both hands and opened your butt, gaining access and sliding his tongue from your clitoris to your ass. He brought his warm, strong muscle back into your cunt, delivering rapid, continuous movements to your sensitive pearl while two of his fingers reached inside you and began an intense motion.

It didn't take him long to get your body to build up that wonderful discharge, pounding his digits to the right spot while with his other hand he lowered his own clothes and began to masturbate on the floor from the arousal. Overwhelmed by the sensations of pleasure and the moaning that your man was generating inside you, it was impossible for you to even remember that you were cooking, holding strongly with both hands on the kitchen table while your orgasm was furiously approaching.

Once you reached your climax, he stood up, hitting your buttocks with his hard, erect length, letting you know he madly needed to be inside you. Holding your waist, he bent his knees and positioned his tip in your humping hole, guiding himself into your canal slowly, enjoying how his skin was stretched back by the friction.

One of his hands slipped along the side of your body, dirtying your clothes with kitchen ingredients and grabbing you by the neck, exerting a gentle pressure, just the way you like it. With his mouth in your ear, his movements began, while his mind was too clouded with pleasure to even formulate words.

Deep breaths escaped from his chest as the sound of skin against skin filled the kitchen, and your screams made him feel as if he were being pushed by a rush of vertigo and pure pleasure.

The way your warm pussy milked his cock felt like a dream, a wonderful moment that he wanted to last forever, but eventually, his climax attacked him, thanks also to his previous masturbation, being accompanied by your second orgasm.

[squeeneyart]

Breathe in the Salt - Chapter 20

AO3

Beta reader as always is @thesnadger!

Simon and Martin have a chat.

Martin accepts some advice.

When Martin passed the front gate the world behind him disappeared, replaced by cold, grey mist and stone.

Staring back the way he came only made it harder to remember what had been before, and his head felt the pressure of distance with no point of reference. Something deep inside him knew the perils of walking anywhere but the path leading him to the Fairchild house; to step anywhere else would see him tumbling out and away from the only landmark he had left.

Waiting for him at the front door was the woman who’d taken the sketchbook from him, this time without the veneer of professional courtesy. The hooded jumper, worn jeans, and disinterested wave announced to the world an interrupted day off. If his damp, miserable self was an affront to her sensibilities, she wasn’t showing it, so the wet jacket stayed on.

In his nerves he hadn’t really registered her appearance during their first meeting, too focused on getting rid of the evidence of his crime. She was older, maybe in her 60s, with long grey hair tied back into a low ponytail. He hadn’t seen her about town before, had he?

They walked inside without any chitchat, so Martin glanced about in silence. The interior felt right if his memory served, the same skinny halls and windows stretching from floor to ceiling. The most striking aspect still was the mural at the top of the central staircase. The rest of the house was dwarfed by it, as if the grand building was no greater than his hometown’s silhouette tucked into the corner of the canvas. 

Approaching it, the colors were more. More intense, more bold, all the brightness stolen from the world outside siphoned into an impossible sky. Maybe anything would look that much more  when contrasted with where he’d been. He was at the top of the stairs standing at its center wondering if there was any distance that could give him a proper view of the whole. 

From behind him the woman cleared her throat, though she didn’t seem irritated. He pulled himself away from the spot where he’d stopped to stare, leaving slippery footprints in his wake.

Glancing up at the mural, she only said, “Some things demand attention.”

She led him to the same room from his first visit with its outward wall of glass. Across the room sat Simon, his back facing those large, unbelievably clear windows that now overlooked the fog-covered landscape. Martin heard the woman’s retreating footsteps and the click of the door.

Martin breathed out, keeping a few feet between himself and the old man. He waved stiffly at the windows. “It’s a bit late. I was expecting this to happen last week.”

With that pleasant smile unmoving, Simon motioned for Martin to sit in the chair across from him. “Don’t be ridiculous. That event will be much more exciting. I wanted to put this meeting together, and needed a good mix of quick and fun.”

“Starting to question my understanding of ‘fun’,” Martin mumbled. He took the seat offered to him and crossed his arms over his chest, the rainwater he carried in seeping into the plush fabric. “It seems like I’m always on the losing side of someone else’s.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Simon hummed, leaning back comfortably in his chair. “So you’d prefer something more exciting in your invitations, so you’re not left out? Did my little errand turn you into a thrill-seeker already?”

“No.” A shiver ran through him, not of fear but of an awful, biting cold. The wet of his hair sapped the heat right out of him and pulled his ponytail down heavy onto his neck. “What do you want?”

“Oh, a bit moody today, aren’t we?” The smile was still sitting idly on Simon’s face. “Peter’s been around more often, I can tell. He does that to people, sucks all patience and goodwill out until they’re… well.” He flicked his eyes over Martin with something like pity.

Martin pressed his arms tighter into himself. “So what, you push people into the sky, and he does that?”

Simon laughed without a hint of shame. “Goodness, no. Peter is just like that, no strangeness needed. I’ve often left his company feeling completely drained and irritable, though I’ve found ways to ensure the feeling is mutual.”

“Good friends, then.”

“As much as he can have them.” Simon leaned forward, no hint of bitterness in his voice or expression. “A very close-to-the-chest type, I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

With a sharp exhale, Martin said, “Look, if you’re going to ask me for a favor I’m not-”

“Now, now, I’m not one to drag on a favor forever, and you’ve paid in full. Besides, Peter is much too jumpy right now for anything to be done.” Simon turned his gaze toward the window. “I’m afraid all any of us can do now is wait.” 

A jolt of disappointment shocked Martin to silence. All of this dramatic nonsense just to be told to wait and see? He hadn’t had any specific expectations, but deep down he’d believed Simon to be plotting something soon. That even if it was a horrible outcome Martin wouldn’t be left in suspense from every angle of his life. 

Whatever shoe was meant to drop, it hadn’t, and it wouldn’t for some unspecified amount of time.

Simon regained his easy tone and continued, “And I greatly dislike this weather, all of these things clouding my view. Soon I’ll be going weeks without a clear day, and it can feel so… so claustrophobic. So little to work with on a day like this.”

He wasn’t the one who needed to walk in it. “You’re not going to explain anything, are you?”

“No, I’m not. You know how these things are. Business.” Reaching into his pocket, Simon pulled out a small envelope. “Speaking of, like a pouting child Peter has been avoiding me, and as far as I can tell you’re the only person who actually sees him.”

With a deep sigh Martin leaned forward, elbows resting on knees. Not only was he getting nothing out of Simon, but- “This is all so I can be a messenger boy?”

“Just the one time, if Peter can be reasonable.”

“I don’t- Wait. Why not trap him like you did me? Just force him to your door.”

With a sudden laugh that made Martin jump, Simon replied, “Not everyone is as easy to find as you. And anyway, it’s not wise to do that to friends, is it?” 

It wasn’t a way to keep friends, no, and he took the message from Simon without further comment. On the other side of the room, the door opened to reveal that woman. Not needing prompting he stood, looking back one more time at the other man.

Simon remained seated and swung one more friendly smile in Martin’s direction. “You’ll be seen out, then. I must thank you for your previous help, Martin. The personal significance alone can’t be overstated. It’s not my only sketchbook, of course, but several of my best works had their beginnings in it.” Was that glint in his eye one of creative pride, or was there some joke Martin was missing?

The tiniest desire to stay and hear more itched at the back of his mind, but the dismissal was clear and he let the woman lead him back through the house. Once outside he saw the weather had taken a turn for the worse into a complete downpour. The high wind would certainly blow his hood down, making for a wretched walk ahead of him.

“Ah.” He’d been taken to the Fairchild house on an impossible route, but the way home was entirely real. “I have a long way to walk.”

“Inconveniences all around,” the woman said, shutting the door behind him.

Once he was alone he ripped the phone from his pocket and and bent over it to delete his dramatic messages before they could be seen, replacing it with:

Martin: talked with simon (didnt really have a choice), dont think anything will happen with him for a while

Martin: said all we can do is wait? really cryptic

Then he pocketed it once more and walked out the front gate into the reinstated town.

The greatest relief was finding other unlucky pedestrians doing their best to stay dry along with him. Even without the ability to stop and talk he felt the silent commiseration. It wasn’t joy in the suffering of others but rather the knowledge that other people were there at all to share in the cruddy weather. He could see where a person ahead of him was avoiding puddles, and found residual warmth in the lights of nearby shop fronts. It was the kind of melancholy atmosphere that could make rain a little more bearable.

The walk down the cliff however was designed to kill him, the slope slick with mud and abandoned by an early setting sun. No waterproof phone, glasses blurred and splattered with droplets, Martin made his slow way home in the cold, in the dark. More than once he stopped to make sure he hadn’t gotten turned around by forces supernatural or otherwise, but then the ground flattened and he could finally hear the sea over the rain beating against the ground.

He was late of course, but besides some comments about tracking water into the house and forgetting his umbrella his mother had left him well alone, and even took his word when he described the weather as unsuitable for her health. He was grateful. After the last few days anything worse might’ve sent them into a screaming match to surpass any bouts they’d had in years. Maybe the day had taken as much out of her as it had from him.

Instead, after a necessary change of clothes on his part, they ate dinner and watched television, her in her chair and him on the couch. It was some old game show he vaguely remembered, not something that aired in his childhood but that he’d experienced first as reruns, the saturated colors and fuzzy image granting it a multilayered nostalgia. Someone on the screen had just answered a question and was hoping their spouse would come up with the same response.

In his pyjama pants and old t-shirt he felt little, his feet tucked under him because he hadn’t wanted to waste another pair of socks. It was as if he’d just come out of the bath with his wet hair and drooping eyes and was waiting to be told he was up too late. As if he wasn’t responsible for watching the clock himself.

His phone vibrated in the middle of the program, but if his mother noticed she chose to ignore it. Tapping the phone awake, Martin saw a notification from the group message.

Tim: ok check-in time what the hell 

Tim: just saw this 

So they hadn’t seen his initial messages. He breathed out in relief and typed out a reply.

Martin: some weird stuff, but everythings fine. simon made it so i had to go talk to him

Martin: whatever simon mentioned before its not coming yet. seems like he isnt in control of when whatever it is happens? also peter is avoiding him so i need to give him this letter

Tim: weird but

Tim: good? more time for us

Sasha: one less thing to worry about. glad it went okay.

Tim: ^^

He’d successfully avoided any panic or weirdness that his original messages most definitely would’ve caused and patted himself on the back for a job well done. No one needed that as a distraction.

Martin: oh right weird topic change but jon mentioned it, do you really all use a cot at work

Tim: oh yeah lol love that thing

Tim: jon is on it right now actually will pass on simon info when hes awake

Martin: youre all still there??

Tim: oh martin dont you know weve Never Left

Tim: we should get going soon tho now that you mention, will drag jon out of the archives while passing on simon info

Martin: good idea

Tim: and keep those eyes down!

Martin bit his cheek and looked past his phone at the television screen. No doubt it was karma for his rash behavior at the lighthouse, having “just wait!” shouted at him from all corners. The universe was making itself very clear. Simon could’ve just been telling him to let something terrible happen, but even if that was true Martin wasn’t in a place to stop anything.

But it was a great quality of Tim’s, rounding them all up and trying to save them from regrettable decisions. The least Martin could do was make that job easier and stay out of trouble. It was also the most he could do, as much as it irked him.

Martin: dont need to tell me twice! 

And with that Martin pocketed his phone, accepting his fate of inaction.

When he finally put his mother to bed the goodnight between them was not warm, but it was closer to normal. If he’d been told that one of the most pleasant parts of his day would’ve been watching the telly after dinner with his mum, he would’ve… well, it wasn’t that strange. Really it emphasized how bad the rest of his day had been.

Meanwhile the most pleasant event felt fake, even when he checked his call logs to confirm it. What a strange start to a day, he thought as he laid in bed. At least it made up for Jon not being around that evening, that and knowing Jon was getting some sleep. The man clearly needed some prompting during an intense work period to take care of himself, and Martin silently thanked Tim for doing something about it when he couldn’t bring himself to initiate a phone conversation. He knew it was ridiculous for him to be so nervous about the idea, but…

But.

Hopefully Jon didn’t think he was rude. It was one thing to chat in person, but calling without a specific topic to discuss while the others were hard at work? Because he was bored? Best to let Jon reach out when he felt it necessary, even if it meant being woken up at odd hours on a work day and otherwise sitting on his hands. Eventually this would all be behind them and he could stop being racked with guilt over the thought of making a social call. 

Martin’s stomach twisted. Yes, things would be dealt with, and he would move on from this strange period in his life.

He moved to place the phone down for the night when it buzzed in his hand, with a message in another, private chat.

Sasha: we should talk more later about what simon told you specifically. if something big is coming having someone on the inside of things might not be the worst. not saying you should seek him out, he seems perfectly of capable of contacting you, but if it happens again it could be an opportunity

Martin: you think he could be on our side?

Sasha: i think letting people say their piece can lead to understanding, even if the other person is the worst. something is going on between him and peter lukas and the more we know the better

Martin: right…

Sasha: again not saying to run into anything. wait for us etc etc but trust your gut

Martin: so your opinion on staying put?

Sasha: sometimes you cant, thats all im saying

Martin: okay, i think i get it

Sasha: good. now get some sleep, weird things tend to drain you

Martin: goodnight

Sasha: night

Well, she wasn’t wrong. He didn’t believe that Simon was a good person, not with how he’d treated Martin thus far, but that didn’t make him evil, either. And his advice was the same as what everyone else had already been saying: stay out of trouble as best he could and wait for the right moment. Even Sasha still conceded to it being the best option for the present. If Peter told him to wait as well, then Martin would be truly lost on what to do, but until then he would follow the advice of all the people who knew more than he did.

And if Simon called him to his home again, he would try to be less… difficult. And he would buy a better jacket, just in case. 

--

The next morning, he listened to a voice message left shortly after he’d fallen into a blissfully dreamless sleep.

Jon’s groggy voice drifted from the mobile. “Hi, sorry I missed things. Wasn’t expecting Fairchild to be so forward, and my sleep schedule has never been- anyway, Tim convinced me to go back to my flat, but since I slept at the institute earlier I’m currently following a few threads to see if they lead anywhere helpful. I think I’ve reached something, but time will tell.”

He continued after a brief pause. “Seems you’re already asleep, as you should be, so I’ll let you go. Let me know if you have any questions about our other… shared interest. Good night. I hope things stay quiet.” 

[yourmidnightlover]

ssa hotchner: chapter 2 - one week

TW: threats, language, talking abt abuse/what happened to y/n the night before, mild drinking

WC: 5,116

series masterlist

---------------------------------------------

you woke up to the bright sun peeking in through your window past the hills, shining brightly into your eyes. you sat up, and rubbed your eyes in attempt to wake yourself up even more. you looked over at your clock to see the tie was already half past 6 a.m.

you didn't have to go to work for the first time in what felt like forever. trudging out of bed, you made your way into your bathroom and started the hot water.

the cut on your face looks exponentially better than it did last night. the handprint's swelling on your face had gone down quite a bit, but the bruise on your arm was definitely still there.

you brushed your teeth while you waited on the water to warm up. once the shower was ready, you shed your clothes and hopped inside. you took your time, letting the events of last night try to sink into your mind.

after you finished up, you used a towel to dry your hair a bit and got dressed in some leggings and a large t-shirt. you figured you might as well be comfortable if you didn't have anything else to do.

going back into your living room you decided to read the note that was taped to your gate. you pulled the bin out, followed by the shoe box, followed by the note.

you've been receiving them for close to 7 years now, ever since that high profile case you did for the bau. honestly, there was no telling if the letters were from more than one person. they are all typed and printed out.

at first they were all 'thank yous' for putting away a serial killer, but then came the anniversary of him being in prison... and people got a bit angry. then, people who were grateful for you putting him away forgot about it, as they should since they have lives of their own, and all that was left were the people who were angry.

the people who would wish you were dead. the people who think you should be inside there with the other killers. the people who were upset about you putting their 'true love' away for good. those were the people you were scared of.

the people that knew your address.

the people that sent you death threats.

those were the terrifying ones. the ones that kept you up at night, looking out of your window, trying to see if anyone was truly out there. nobody ever was. logically, you knew that nobody was out there lurking.

but if you told big bro, he would go all fbi on the letters. he would try to figure out who sent them, and send them to jail themselves. you didn't know if they were truly a threat, so what's the point in poking the bear? if they got too terrible, you would tell him. maybe...

you son of a bitch. you should've been his last victim so you wouldn't be here and he would be. you're nothing but a manipulative little bitch.

you don't deserve anything you have handed to you.

go die, bastard.

you folded it back up and placed it in the box, the bin, then pushed it underneath the couch.

were you worried? of course. would you tell anyone? not yet. if your fear became unmanageable, you would let someone know.

the only problem with the notes is that there was no return address. you put up security cameras everywhere around your gate in hopes of catching the culprit(s) on video, but sadly they were able to hack into the cameras you had gotten.

you would check the video footage after you received a note or picture. the time stamp went from 8:54 to 9:03, meaning they probably hacked into it before they got there.

maybe garcia could find whoever hacked into it every night if you needed her to. surely she would be able to work her magic when necessary.

you went into your room to check your phone for any new messages.

a <3: what're you doing for lunch today? feel up to spending time together two days in a row? let me know whenever you can; there's no case today.

you: i don't have any plans at all today, i guess i'll just have to suffer through another lunch with you.

and... sent.

unknown number: hi, y/n. it's spencer. i just wanted to know how're you doing? is the cut on your face okay?

you: hey back genius :) i'm doing pretty well, all things considered. my face is looking much better than it was before i went to bed, thank you for asking.

send.

while waiting for a response, you decided to clean the house a bit. you vacuumed your rugs, washed the dishes in your sink, did your laundry, and that was pretty much all you had to do today. everything done before 10 a.m.

checking your phone, there were two more messages, one from each of the guys.

a <3: great! would you mind just meeting me at the office around 11:30?

you: that's no problem at all. any place in mind?

you checked the other message from spencer.

spencer :) : i'm glad you're doing well, y/n. and to clear things up, your face didn't look bad at all last night, bruise and cut included.

what a little charmer...

you: thanks for the clarity, it's very appreciated. so how've you been since last night? save any other damsels in distress?

you put your phone down and decided to start getting ready. you opted for some blue jeans, high rise, and a lavender halter top. you paired that with some white high-top converse and threw on your gray blazer spencer brought you from last night, after you retrieved it from the dryer.

wearing something so casual, you decided to just wear your natural hair to the office. you did, however, need to cover the remnants of your adventure last night so aaron wouldn't be upset upon seeing something.

you used some good ol' color corrector, concealer, a bit of foundation, and some powder to cover the bruises and fail to disguise the cut. then again, there's not much that can be done to cover that up.

you checked the time on your phone, 10:53, and saw two more message notifications.

a <3: i was thinking about ordering some mexican food to the office so we could just stay there.

you: i'm good with anything, so that sounds great! i'll see you soon.

you sent the message and hopped over to the one spencer had sent you.

spencer :) : sadly, no other damsels. although i suppose that could be considered a good thing to most. oh! and if you were wondering, i got your number from garcia. i wasn't stalking you or anything, no worries.

you: yes, i'm glad i was the only damsel in need of saving last night. also, if i were to find out you had been stalking me, i don't think i'd be afraid. in fact, i'd probably be more flattered that THE dr. spencer reid would consider me stalk-worthy.

was it flirtatious? yes. would it make him flustered? probably. would i enjoy being the person that flustered him? absolutely.

sent.

you got into your car and began the journey to quantico. the drive isn't very long, only about twenty minutes. you hopped out of the car, and made your way to the front desk to check in. looking over your shoulder, you saw none other than spencer reid walking up to you before the woman gave you your visitor's badge.

"hi there, damsel," spencer smiled as he greeted you. you walked closer to him after thanking the lady.

"hey, hero," you laughed as you both got closer. "is it too soon to hug you?"

"oh, uhm... not at all. i was actually-yes. i do want to- i'm just gonna..." he stuttered as he opened his arms for you to snuggle into.

"i like your hugs," you surprisingly announced.

"th-thank you," he smiled as he rested his chin on your head, secretly enjoying the coconutty scent that wafted off your hair into his nose.

"yea this is gonna be the new greeting tactic for us. just saying," you huffed into his chest.

"i wouldn't mind that at all," he laughed before you pulled back from his embrace, giving his shoulders a little squeeze before relinquishing all contact.

"okay, i'm here to see aaron. i'm assuming he's in his office, like always?" you rose one eyebrow in question before feeling a hand on your shoulder, turning to see aaron.

"i'm not always in my office," he rebutted as he embraced you in his arms. "how are you?" he asked nicely.

"i'm good! i hope you aren't overworking yourself like you usually tend to do," you voiced into his chest. he pulled back, not releasing your shoulders but looking deeply at your face.

"what's that?" he pointed to your cheekbone, his brows furrowing in concentration.

"oh, pshh. it's nothing," you shrugged as you waved his hand off, noticing spencer behind aaron with a look on his face that suggested you tell your brother what it was.

"y/n. what happened?" he pushed, giving you his 'brother' look.

"fine," you huffed. "i was gonna have to explain it eventually," you rolled your eyes. "last night before i left, ron got a bit handsy. before he did too much, spencer showed up to return my jacket. things got out of hand, ron might've slapped me, spencer might've pushed him against a wall, all's well that ends well," you grinned in hopes that he wouldn't have understood a word you just uttered.

"ron slapped you?" he asked in disbelief, his face still showing no emotion as per usual.

"yea, but spencer stopped him before he got to do anything else. oh! i don't have a job at all anymore, so i'm free for the next two weeks," you pressed your lips together.

"reid was there?" he turned to face spencer, who's face looked like a deer in the headlights.

"yup. i don't know what would've happened if he didn't show up. i really owe him, aaron," you said, trying to calm your brother down from the edge he was not-so-clearly teetering on.

"well, reid. uhh, thank you. and y/n. you should've told me this the second it happened," he ordered, looking at you shooting daggers.

"sir, yes, sir," you nodded off. "i'm sorry i didn't tell you. i just knew you'd be upset and i figured since everything's okay now that it wasn't important," you shrugged, trying to diffuse the situation.

"it is important. it will always be important because you're important to me," he emphasized before taking a deep breath. "as long as you'll tell me next time i think i'll be okay."

"great! now when's the food supposed to get here because... food," you excitedly asked as you followed aaron as he turned to go to his office.

"it'll be here in about 10 more minutes," he announced as he motioned for her to sit beside him in the chairs in front of his desk. "so... what's the full story of what happened?"

"are we really gonna talk about that right now?" you huffed, clearly over the situation from last night.

"yes. we are. harassment is a serious issue that should be dealt with accordingly. you know that, y/n," he reasoned, propping his arm on his desk as he looked at you with his stern face.

"i do know that. i also know that he only ever did that to me. he has a wife and two kids; he'd never do anything to put them in jeopardy," you announced, trying to convince aaron not to press the issue any further.

"but he would be willing to risk a law suit from you because of what happened?" he questioned in defiance, not accepting the ask to drop it.

"i wouldn't give him a law suit, aaron. you know that," you remarked, leaning in towards him slightly.

"you should. logically, you should sue him for hitting you. and i'm assuming for whatever else he's done to you in the past," he corrected you.

"how do you know he's done anything in the past?" you questioned, aaron nodding his head to the side. "right. profiler," you sighed. "look, he used to call me names i'm uncomfortable with, but now i won't have to deal with him. i don't work there anymore and never will again."

"you may not work there, but what if another woman starts working in the office? who's to say he won't harass them as well?" you looked down into your lap, fondling your fingers in avoidance. "look, i'm not trying to be rude about it. i just don't like seeing you hurt, and to know that the guy who hurt you isn't getting anything done to him is ludicrous."

"i know. you've always looked out for me since we were kids, but i'm not a kid anymore. i'm a grown woman and can take care of my own business when i need to," you replied softly, placing your hand over top aaron's in comfort. "but thank you, for always caring. i know you do it because you love me, even though you don't say it often," you laughed, trying to bring some light hearted-ness to the situation.

"i do..." he nodded along. "love you, that is," he added with a rare smile.

aaron has always been there for you. ever since you were kids, because of you dad he would take the role of protector for both you, sean, and your mom.

because of his role of 'protector,' he has this external shell that he feels as though he can't shed. in his mind, if he sheds it he's not able to mask his feelings, leaving not only himself but also those he protects vulnerable.

"i love you too, a.," you smiled back, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it from your grip. aaron took his phone and checked the time.

"the food's here now," he announced as he went to go pick it up from the front desk.

when he returned he gave you the food and you began to eat together, him telling you the latest garcia story that got quite the kick out of you until his attention went elsewhere.

"... so...?" aaron asked sneakily, a sly grin appearing on his face.

"... so what?" you furrowed your brows in question as you took a sip of your drink.

"you and reid, huh?" he widened his eyes in suspicion.

"what about me and reid?" you wanted to press him further, even though you knew exactly what he meant.

"that's exactly what i would like to know. what's going on with you and reid?" he finalized, pointing his fork accusingly at you.

"nothings going on with me and spencer," you raised your hands in defense. "i just drove him home after he intervened in the... situation, last night so i made sure to thank him. he texted me earlier today to ask me how i was holding up after yesterday evening- like a gentleman," you pointed out, raising your eyebrows to establish some sort of dominance you knew you didn't have over your brother.

"right," he said in a sing-song voice, you rolled your eyes at his tone.

"shut up," you scoffed as you threw away each of yours' trash. "so, i think it's time for me to go," you smiled as you turned to face aaron from the doorway.

"ahh, right," he sighed with a small grin. "i actually talked to strauss about getting you onto the team," he raised his eyebrows.

"did you, now?" you smirked. "what'd she say about it?"

"she said that you'd need to fill out an application, and that if you were to be hired there'd be a trial run first to see if everything would work out smoothly," he announced happily.

"really? so there's a chance i could work here?!" you squealed, rubbing your lips into a tight line from the excitement.

"a pretty good one, at that. i actually have an application right," he reached over his desk to retrieve a couple pages stapled together, "here," he smiled, handing you the application forms.

"oh my gosh!" you shouted, throwing your arms over your brother's stomach and squeezing him tightly. "this is so exciting! do you think i'm actually qualified?" you asked, pulling back from his embrace.

"are you kidding? of course you are?" he asked incredulously. "just fill those out, return them to strauss, and i'm sure she'll review them quickly," he nodded.

"right. i'll get going now," you smiled widely. "thank you, a. thank you so much," you said, giving him one last hug before you whooshed out of the door, papers in hand.

you walked down the stairs and out of the glass doors towards the elevator. the doors started to close after you pressed the 'lobby' button, but there was a brown satchel stuffed between them to stop the from closing right before they shut. once thy opened back up, you noticed who the bag belonged to.

"hey, spencer," you smiled, scooting over in the elevator to make more room for him.

"hey, y/n. how was your lunch?" he asked, returning your smile.

"it was pretty good. aaron gave me an application for the bau, which is very exciting," you bit back a wide grin.

"really?" he asked happily, his eyebrows raised, you nodded in return. "that's so great!" he said cheerily, wrapping his arms around your waist an lifting you off the elevator floor as the two of you giggled together.

"i know! if i'm being honest, i'm a bit nervous about it, y'know?" you said as he placed you back onto your feet, your hands still on his biceps.

"why? we already know you'll fit in well and do great. what's making you nervous?" he asked, his head tilting slightly as he looked at you with a confused expression.

"i don't know..." you started. "i guess since i've only worked at one job, doing one thing, moving nowhere, staying stagnant, i just don't know anything else," you shrugged.

"it's actually incredibly normal to feel nervous about a new job. over 80% of working professionals feel nervous or anxious when starting a new job," he clarified as the elevator doors opened, you both walking out together. "think of it this way: you know the material, you're more than qualified, you know everyone you'd be working with, and you're passionate about what you'll be doing. there's no doubt that you'll do amazing," he encouraged as you continued the walk to your car.

"thank you. at least i know i'm not the only one that gets this way," you sighed. "so why'd you walk all the way out here?" you giggled. "don't you still have work?"

"uhh, yes. i-i do have to work. i just f-figured- i just wanted to uh, talk to you?" he stuttered out, clearly not realizing how charming it was.

"well, thank you, spencer. i really enjoy our little chats," you nodded as you unlocked your car. "thanks for walking me out. i'll see you?" you asked.

"yea, yes. i will uhm, see you later. goodbye, y/n," he smiled gorgeously.

"see you later, spencer," you grinned back as you closed your door and began to drive off after buckling up.

halfway home, you got a call from someone. you pressed the bluetooth answer button on your radio to answer.

"hello?" you replied, readjusting your hands on your wheel.

"y/n hotchner. i can't believe you were at the office and didn't even bother to say hi to me!" emily's voice rang through the speakers.

"emily! hello to you too," you giggled.

"you even said hi to reid! but not me?" she shouted. "what gives?"

"sorry, i just kinda ran into him, i guess. well, he ran into me," you corrected yourself.

"what does that mean?"

"well, he kinda stopped me while i was in the elevator so he could talk to me. he's such a good friend," you complimented.

"only friend?" emily asked suggestively.

"yes, em. only friends," you laughed at the insinuation.

while it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to be more than friends with him, it certainly wasn't the right time for a serious relationship in your life yet.

"righhtt... anyway, that's not the only reason i called you," she stated.

"and why did you do that?" you asked as you turned onto the highway, a straight shot to the street with your house on it.

"i wanted to know if you'd like to come with us to a bar after we get off of work tonight?" she asked.

"hmm... who's 'we'?"

"well there's me, morgan, garcia, and you if you'll come?"

"sure, it sounds fun," you agreed. "besides, not like i have anything to do with no job and all," you laughed out.

"great! now we could probably convince reid to come now that you're going!" she exclaimed.

"jeez, em," you huffed as you rolled your eyes and turned onto your street.

"you know it's true. morgan's already teasing him about it and everything," she snorted out over the phone.

"oh poor spencer..." you grimaced as you thought about the relentless teases.

"yea, yea, yea. but you're coming, and there's no backing out! i'll just pick you up before i head to the bar. be ready at 8, ma'am. dress hot, please, garcia and i already agreed to it," she demanded.

"yes ma'am, sounds good," you nodded even though she can't see you.

"alright, love you, bye," she said, holding out the 'e'.

"love you too, bye," you said as she hung up the phone, finally turning into your driveway to be met with your gate.

you entered the code and the gate opened, allowing you to drive half a mile up to your house. you had always wanted a nice, big house as a child. the kind that people had in movies, and everyone looked at online. you signed a lease for this house a while back, and got an amazing deal on it sense you knew who owned it previously.

unlocking your door, you walked into your house with the papers in hand. you walked into your dining room and started filling the papers out easily. it was only 1 p.m., so you had a while before you had to start getting ready for going out with them tonight.

*******

you threw on a maroon colored corduroy skirt, tucking in your spaghetti strap, black tank top. adding some black  heeled booties, you added a few silver pieces of jewelry.

after adding some mascara, lip gloss, and a bit more powder you felt like you were ready to walk out of the door. you did a few spritzes of perfume before grabbing your black crossbody purse, letting it hang on one shoulder before grabbing your black denim jacket, dashing out of the door to emily's car.

"hey em," you said as you swung the door open, crawling not-so-gracefully inside.

"hey there," she said as she examined what you were wearing. "i seriously did my makeup for half an hour and you come out looking like that? it should be illegal to look that hot, y/n," she rolled her eyes with a huff.

"are you kidding me?" you replied, looking over to see what she was wearing herself.

she had on a short, black dress that had a low neckline, allowing tasteful cleavage to show through. she wore that with some red pumps to match her lipstick and some shimmery eyeshadow.

"okay, you can't say that. you look hot, em! don't sell yourself short," you punched her arm playfully.

"yea, yea, yea," she said, beginning to drive out of your driveway.

once you arrived to the bar, it looked like it was almost full. the music was loud, and you could feel the base through your feet on the floor. it took you about a minute until you could find the others, derek, pen, and spencer, sitting at a booth in the corner of the bar.

because of how crowded it was, you sat across from penny and derek and in between spencer and emily. you were practically on top of spencer because of how small the seats were, the poor guy.

"damn, you look great, y/n," derek gushed before looking at spencer with a smirk. "don't you think, pretty boy?" he laughed out, earning a jab from penny in the stomach.

"play nice, derek," she scolded him. "but you do look great, y/n. your legs look amazeballs in that outfit... like wow," she exaggerated.

"oh, shush," you blushed. "i'm kinda hungry... you guys?" you asked them.

"i could go for some cheese sticks," emily replied.

"i ate before we came here," spencer replied with a smile, leaning into your ear a little bit to answer.

"so cheese sticks and... cheese fries? i adore cheese fries," penny added.

"i'm okay with whatever. i'll go order," you said as emily got up to let you out.

"i'll help," spencer added as he scooted out with you.

"great, any drink requests?" you asked, pointing out to all three others.

"jack and coke," emily requested.

"anything fruity they have!" pen told you.

"whiskey, on the rocks," derek said with a smile.

"you've got it," you said as you turned around, realizing how crowded it was as you tried to weave through the first few people in your way.

you felt a hand grip yours firmly, turning to see it was spencer's hand you felt a sigh of relief wash over you. he leant down to your ear to talk to you, so you leaned a bit closer to him.

"i'm gonna put my arm around your waist so we can get through easier. is that okay?" he asked. his breath on your neck and ear almost distracted you from the question.

"y-yea. that's uhm... that's okay," you nodded your head as you felt his arm snake around your waist, pulling you closer to his side.

you moved one of your arms around his torso in return, squeezing yourself further into your side so you could avoid bumping into as many people. you could smell his sweet cologne, and the smell of what seemed to be coffee and old books. the warmth of his entire being was undeniable, drawing you closer to his presence.

eventually when you made it to the bar, you both kept your arms around the other. after ordering the food and drinks, you finally pulled your arm back, but stayed just as close to him.

"have you filled the application out yet?" spencer asked sweetly, leaning into your body.

"yea, i finished them just before i got ready to come here, actually," you nodded your head with a smile. "i guess you could say i'm a bit eager to start working."

"i think that's a good thing," he smiled brightly.

"oh, it definitely is!" you agreed. "i'm just so bored at the house. i've only been gone for a day and i need something to do, y'know?" you shrugged.

"busybody?" he questioned.

"oh you have no idea," you laughed, pushing his shoulder back playfully.

"i guess it runs in the family. hotch is always working on something as well," he mentioned. "so working at the bau would be a great fit for you both."

"yea, i sure hope so," you said longingly. "so what else do you do for fun... besides reading and working, of course," you asked.

"uhmm, i enjoy magic, i guess," he expressed.

"really?" you perked up, straightening out your posture at what he revealed.

"yea. i know a few little party tricks. wanna see?" spencer proposed, you nodded eagerly. "okay," he licked his lips as he began digging into his pocket and pulled out a $20 bill, also getting a pen. "watch..." he said as he jabbed the green paper with the pen.

"okay?" you squinted your eyebrows at what he was doing, unsure of where this trick was leading.

he then started to drag the paper around the pen, not tearing the bill at all. you felt your jaw drop in awe as he continued playing with it. then, he drug the pen all the way out of the bill, not a hole in sight. he made the bill disappear, leaving you stunned.

"what? how did you-? where did it-?" you stuttered, looking at him accusingly.

he reached around your hair, behind your ear and pulled out the same twenty dollar bill as earlier, a smug look on his face as he did so.

"okay... wow." you said as you began slow-clapping in awe. "i'm thoroughly impressed, spencer."

"thanks," he smiled shyly as he tucked the bill back into his pocket. "i've been doing magic since i was a kid. it's one of my hobbies when i'm we're not trying to catch serial killers," he shrugged.

"i'd say you've picked a good hobby," you chuckled. "i bet kids love it when you do them, huh?"

"yea, it's quite the entertainment for children," he nodded. "i love their reaction to it. it just makes me happy that i can bring a smile to their face."

"that, spencer, is fascinating," you complimented as the bartender handed you the drinks and spencer the food to take back to the table.

walking back was much easier than your journey to the bar, people actually making way for others with their hands full of refreshments. at least some people still had their manners.

"okay guys," you addressed as you began passing out the drinks, "here is your whiskey, jack and coke, and a tequila sunrise for pen."

"ouuu! i like the sound of that!" penny cheered as she took a sip of the drink, her eyes widening with delight.

"thank you, ma'am," derek thanked as he took a sip of his drink.

"absolutely perfect, y/n," emily relished in her beverage.

the rest of the night was fun. you laughed, joked, and danced with the girls. you even got to know spencer a bit more, much to your liking.

the next day you turned in your application, and was surprised when you got the job on the spot. you would begin your trial run in one week.

and you couldn't believe how fast that week went by, because as soon as you blinked, you were in the bullpen of the bau at your very own desk.

[unsaidmar]

One, The meeting.

Plot: Both Spencer and Olivia mourn their losses. Maybe doing it together works best.

WC: 2k, I get carried away.

CW: Brief mentions of death.

A/N: Hi y’all! I’m very excited to share this. I submitted it for a creative writing assignment last week and I thought I would share it here too. This is the first time I post what I write and I kinda want to make this a series.

Olivia knew pain was lighter on the shoulders when carried with someone else, she was completely aware of the fact that pushing her friends and loved ones away was the last thing you’d want to do when grieving. Didn’t stop her, though. Opening up was a conscious effort she had to make.  

Lia had been gone exactly 467 days. Each one harder, longer and duller than the last.  Her mom had told her that pain didn’t have an expiration date, that she shouldn’t worry about getting over Lia’s death sooner than she was ready to, but nothing could help the feeling in the back of her mind, the little voice that reminded her that the world did not stop spinning when she left. Even if she felt like it did.

Mornings were almost automatic at this point. Get up, make an effort to look better, grab an excuse for breakfast, promise mamá you’ll get something else on the way to work, drive mindlessly to the place you knew like the back of your hand. The Grey Roots was special, it seemed to transform people’s perspective as soon as they walked in, it was full of memories and knowledge. That much was true for Spencer Reid.

Maeve had been gone exactly 278 days. Each one harder, longer and duller than the last. The team did their best to navigate around Spencer’s grief, always taking hints the he dropped. A fake smile that meant “we can ignore my loss today”, a shrug accompanied with the ghost of a smile that meant “today I’m feeling better, but I’m not expecting it to last”, and the words “I’m fine, I promise”, that roughly translated to “this is manageable today, so don’t ask me about it”.

The love and sense of protection the BAU had over Spencer was instinctual, which was hard when he seemed to be a thousand miles away while standing right there. Morgan had said that if isolation was what he needed right now, isolation he was going to get, but always with the promise of his friends running straight to him if he needed the comfort.

On his days off, he tried coming to terms with the loss. Loss was a tricky thing, Spencer thought. By definition, it was the state or feeling of grief when deprived of someone or something of value, so if it meant the absence of something, why did it feel like loss went with him everywhere?

The Grey Roots was a landmark in the man’s life. Maeve had recommended he visit the museum while they were corresponding, which he was more than happy to do, always trying to find a way to feel closer to her than he could actually be. Now his visits changed in nature, he was there to reminisce. To try and get the optimistic feeling of loving her to come back.

The stranger that usually walked around the museum with files in her hands went unnoticed for a while, but to her, Spencer had never gone unnoticed. She had been watching him his last four visits, visits that were a lot closer together than the usual visitors liked, which naturally, sparked her interest. She was drawn to him, always turning her head to check if he was there and her eyes lingering for a beat too long to try and come up with an excuse to start a conversation.

Olivia cared very little about dating and would usually turn down people’s advances, but as he sat there, earbuds in and basking in the sunlight the botanical garden side of the museum had to offer, she couldn’t help but hope he was one of those ballsy men that usually approached her. Apparently, the gods felt bad for Ollie, because as Spencer stood up to go, a book slipped out of his bag onto the floor. Oblivious to it, he kept walking.

“Thank the fucking gods” Ollie whispered to herself as she made a beeline for the book. Trying to reach the tall guy, she elbowed her way through the people walking in front of her and tapped him on the shoulder. Play it cool, dork.

“Hey” she said trying to get her breath back. “You dropped this back there” She tried not to fixate on the way his curls looked with the sun shining directly on them, or on the way his eyes took in her presence.

“Oh, thank you so much” He rushed out, grateful that he didn’t have to lose the last thing that connected him to Maeve and cursing himself for being so careless.

Make conversation, now. Say something. Anything. “I take it that’s important, you look relieved” she giggled to try and appear chill. Failing miserably, of course.

“Um, yeah. It was.” Beat of silence. “It is. It was a gift” He answered looking down at his feet, holding on to the book like it might disappear if he doesn’t.

Now, genuinely relieved she could spare him the disappointment, Ollie looked up at him. “Then I’m really glad you didn’t have to lose it” She replied, mirroring Spence’s thoughts, which made him smile.

To the doctor, looking at her felt almost offensive to Maeve’s memory, like she could see him staring curiously at this kind stranger whose eyes were enticing enough to make him forget how to talk. His best friend JJ was the best at reading his expressions and figuring out what he was thinking, she was smart enough to know Reid felt guilty for wanting to move on and leave the pain behind, so she made sure he knew that no one expected him to act like a widower forever, not even Maeve. After all, no one tells you how long you’re expected to mourn a loss, there’s no unspoken rule of appropriate sulking time. 278 days later still felt like too soon and just about enough at the same time. Strangely enough, he wanted to keep talking to this girl, and it would have to start with an introduction.

“I’m Spencer”

“I’m Olivia, but please call me Ollie” or call me anything you want.

“Ollie, good” he let out a giggle that was uncharacteristic of him to say the least. Mainly because he had never made it this far into a conversation with someone as pretty as Ollie. “You work here” It wasn’t a question, he noticed the plaque pinned to her shirt that read Dr. Olivia Vega, Conservator.

“Yes, I’m one of the conservators here. I know I might not look like it, but I promise I know my stuff” This observation prompted Spencer to give her a once over and he smiled at how right she was. She was wearing black cargo pants and a simple lavender t-shirt she seemed to have cropped herself, her arms were covered with little tattoos and her dark hair had streaks of purple in it. She was a sight to see, and hadn’t she been so kind and smiley, Spencer would’ve been intimidated by her. “My mom always says I look like I dropped out of high school to form my own punk band” She added, interrupting his train of thought. “I kind of agree with her now that I think about it, but I have a doctorate in history and that’s not very punk”

“Well, I’m a federal agent but I look like my grandpa, so I’m right there with you”

You do not look like a grandpa. “A federal agent, huh? The wall-climbing, gun-shooting, vest-wearing kind?”

“Sometimes, yes. But I work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit so the work I do revolves around profiling people, we try to narrow down the suspect pool by studying the way the crime was committed and making educated guesses about what kind of person would do that and the possible motives behind it. I also have doctorates, but not in history” He said, glad he could sound cool in front of what appeared to be the coolest human ever. Maeve doesn’t mind you moving on, he repeated to himself.

“Judging by the fact that you didn’t introduce yourself as ‘Doctor so and so, but you can call me Spencer’ I think you’re nice and not full of yourself” Ollie joked. “I would have been super intimidated if you’d lead with that”

Is she a witch or am I thinking out loud? “You should see the people I work with. I look like a 12-year-old boy compared to them” She erupted in laughter, causing Spencer to blush. “I’m not kidding, they call me ‘kid’ and ‘pretty boy’”

They got that right, you are pretty. “No way, my older co-workers call me ‘kid’ too! And I’m their boss. The least they could do is call me Doctor Kid.” She pretended to pout.

A mom with a stroller trying to walk past them made the two realize they were still standing in the middle of the path, so entirely entertained with each other that they didn’t notice the third-grade class that had just passed them. As if the realization had struck them both at the same time, they looked back at each other, both of them trying to stretch the interaction as long as they could.

“Do you, maybe, want to have this conversation somewhere else? Perhaps not in the middle of the crowd?” She asked hopefully.

Taken aback by the offer, Spencer agreed and followed her back to her office, that looked exactly like he would expect it to. A bunch of framed pictures with friends and family covered the wall to his left, she had a jean jacket full of pins hanging behind the door and a bunch of miscellaneous books on a bookshelf right behind her desk, all of them with post its sticking out and what he assumed were her bookmarks.

After offering him coffee, they talked about all the things they had in common and relished on the things they didn’t. It was refreshing to get out of their heads and talk about something other than what stage of grief they were in. Spencer was glad that Ollie had approached him first, otherwise he wouldn’t have met her or even know she existed. A text from Penelope brought him back to reality and he sighed at his phone when he read it.

“I have to go, we got a case” He said, annoyed.

Ollie tried to mask her disappointment with an airy laugh, “Oh those fucking serial killers, so rude of them to interrupt our conversation”

Come on, Spencer. Say you want to see her again. Maeve doesn’t mind. Faster than he could process, the words came tumbling out of his mouth. “I want to see you again” He declared; eyes wide, afraid he came on too intense.

“Well, what a coincidence. I want that too.” She smirked, thanking the gods for all the love they seemed to be showing her today. She took a bright pink sharpie from her drawer and scribbled her number on Spencer’s palm. “Please, don’t wash your hand before you save the number”  She hoped she hadn’t blown her cover as the chilliest most relaxed person ever with that one sentence that sounded like she was begging him to call her. He took out a little white card from his bad and handed it to her.

‘SSA Dr. Spencer Reid. Behavioral Analysis Unit’. Two phone numbers were displayed along with the FBI logo. Which made Ollie look up to question it.

“Bottom one is my personal line; top one is the work phone” He anticipated the question.  

The shit eating grin he was wearing did not go unnoticed by her friends back at the BAU, but he brushed them and their raised eyebrows right off. This whole thing with Ollie was his to keep. At least for the moment.

That night, even though spent in a dingy motel a few minutes out of Redding, Pennsylvania, Spencer slept better than he had in 278 days. He wasn’t an outgoing person at all, he didn’t ask for numbers, he didn’t agree to have coffee in some stranger’s office, he didn’t text bright pink numbers sloppily written on his hand. But maybe the way they met was a sign that he should, maybe, no matter the outcome, he wanted to see where this led. Not even sure what this was.

Here goes nothing.

“Hey, this is Spencer. I didn’t wash my hand” sent at 2:13 am.

“I mean, I did. Just not until I texted you” sent at 2:13 am.

Back at her own apartment, Ollie made a mental note to go visit Lia so she could hear all about the handsome man she had met. Following the advice her therapist had given her, she took out the notepad she had devoted to the letters she wrote her and started writing what she would give anything to be able to say to her face.

[kinardcopter63701]

Saudade - Chapter 2

|| Prologue || ||Chapter 1 ||

Summary: "Saudade" - A nostalgic longing for a person or thing that was loved once, but is now lost.

Helmut Zemo's life was forever changed when the Avengers picked his country as a personal playground to fight their own creations. He would never regain the pieces of his life where he was a husband and a father of two. But the existence of new Super Soldiers might just bring him closer to that life he once had than he ever thought was possible. Madripoor holds secrets that even Baron Zemo does not know about.

Word Count: 10k

Helmut followed in some sort of a daze, not focusing on the turns that they took as they made their way to Selby's office, barely seeing the money that was piled up on the tables and the armed men that stood guard on seemingly every corner. No, his mind was miles away, trying to comprehend what he heard mere minutes ago.

"What the hell, man?" Sam hissed right by his ear as he overtook James. "You almost blew us."

"Apologies." Was all that he could muster up to say, looking straight ahead. What else could he really say? That for the briefest moment he thought he heard Nic's voice? That if he shut down the logical side of his brain even for a second, he would admit that's how he'd imagine she would sound like now? That he, not even seeing a woman's face fully, picked her as an example of how his girl would look like? Maybe being locked up for few years with nothing but books and solidarity brought him closer to insanity than he liked to admit.

Helmut barely heard Le Petit Homme by Edith Piaf playing over the speakers as they finally approached Selby's office. The woman in front of them turned back. Her brown eyes landed on him for the briefest second and knocked the air out of his lungs once again. Was this a trick of some sort? Power Broker trying to get under his skin, render him useless? Helmut doubted that he would care enough to go to such lengths, but there had to be an explanation. Sure, he knew that theoretically there were around seven people in the world who could look similar to Nic, but his gut instinct was sending him red signals. That this was too much of a coincidence for him to cross paths with a lookalike, in Madripoor of all places, the one time that he was looking for information himself. No, something was wrong here. He couldn't get distracted, couldn't let some lowlife distract him with the face of the dead. He spent most of his life trusting his instinct. The one time that he didn't, he spent days digging through the rocks of a collapsed building.

The woman took a couple of steps behind him, attacking his nose with a sharp, earthy scent that had just a tiniest floral undertone, and stopped in front of Sam. She invaded his space, leaving no distance between them. Helmut followed her actions with his eyes, noticing that James straightened up and he shook his head lightly in a warning. There were too many eyes watching them. She reached for Sam's neck and Helmut was nearly certain that James would lash out. He could tell by the way that he was clenching the prosthetic arm, that the man was considering it. Whatever they thought she'd do, they didn't expect for her to simply unbutton the top button and straighten his collar.

"Are you really going to make me wait for my own guests, Nic?" Selby's sweet voice almost made him jump up in surprise. He clenched his hands in the pockets of the coat, wrapping his fingers around the hard handle of the ka-bar knife he still had in his possession from the army days. A coincidence. Nicoletta, or any similar version of it, was simply a popular name. It wasn't his Nic. Definitely not the girl he buried years ago. Just one big, fat coincidence. He was even prepared to entertain the idea of it being a futile attempt by someone to distract him. In his mind, he knew that. He only needed to convince his heart that hadn't stopped racing from the moment she spoke.

"Of course not." Her voice rang out, making him inhale sharply. She ran her fingers through the suit jacket and with a smirk moved in front again. Right. There was no time for mistakes.

Nic moved out of the way, allowing Helmut to cast his eyes on Selby. She had her back turned to them, sitting comfortably on one of the couches. A power move. She was not threatened by their presence. Not that he could blame her, there were four security guards in the room alone, all holding assault rifles. No doubt more were ready to barge in at a second's notice.

"You should know, Baron. People don't just come into my bar and make demands." Selby said as she tapped her fingers against the couch. Helmut gave her a tight-lipped smile and a small nod as he moved to sit down in front of her. Two of the men stood by the wall beside them while James and Sam moved in to stand on either end of the couches.

"Not a demand. An offer." He elaborated, getting comfortable on the couch. He crossed his legs, his foot landing on the edge of the short table that was in front of him. He noticed a couple of bags lying on the table with a clear powder and a Grand Power K100 semi-automatic pistol within a hand's reach, positioned in a way that she could easily grab it. It was a cat and mouse game. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Nic walked over to the table behind Selby's couch and turned her back on them.

"A lot has changed since you were here last." She took a glance at James before turning back to him. "By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?"

A lot of things might have changed during the years, but he could tell that she did not. All sweet and smiles, hoping that he would fall into the false sense of security that she loved to provide. That he'd spill his secrets or slip up and give a reason for her to doubt his intentions for the visit.

"People like us always find a way, don't we?" Helmut dodged her question raising his hands in a shrug. The more that he could get away with leading her in circles, the better. "I'm sure you've already figured out what I'm here for."

His smile faltered ever so slightly as Nic came back in the view, moving past James to sit down on the couch. She had taken off her mask. He blinked twice to make sure his mind wasn't playing tricks with him. Sure he had moments during his imprisonment, in the dead of night where he had nothing but his own mind to keep him company. Moments where he could almost imagine Ivana's soft touch against his face and see his children in a flash between one moment and the next. If he concentrated enough, he could've heard their voices. But this was different. This was too real to be a figment of his imagination, no matter how vivid it could be. Whoever she was, she looked identical to his Nic.

He bit inside his cheek, irritating his mouth even more as Nic planted herself beside Selby and mimicked her pose. It was so much harder to keep his composure when she was right in front of him, watching his every move with those same shade of brown eyes that Ivana had.

With her sitting opposite of him, he had a chance to take a closer look at her. The chopped off blonde hair barely reached her shoulders. Unlike the majority of the people in the bar, she did not wear makeup or attire suitable for such a place. Instead, she wore a pair of jeans, a high collared crop top, and a rust-colored leather jacket with a hood.

Swallowing he looked back at Selby, determined to keep his attention to her. He was after the information that she had, he needed to concentrate on that. Not on the hypotheticals.

"So many people with offers and deals these days." She grinned, moving her hand to rest on Nic's shoulder. "Like this one. Promised to look over the bar for a good sum and yet did nothing but drink while your friend had fun trashing it. I feel cheated really."

"The agreement was for me to look over the bar. Not to fight for it. There's a difference…I think." Nic deadpanned but didn't move to get the hand off her. Helmut could feel her gaze burning holes in his skin. He readjusted his pose ever so slightly, hoping to get rid of the feeling entirely if he moved a couple of muscles. It didn't work.

"Funny thing aren't you." Selby chuckled and leaned to grab one of the small packets off the table. "Be a dear and make yourself useful. Our friends in Azimut are offering a share for B163.9. I think they're blowing smoke up my eyes but I was in a good mood that day. Tell me what you think."

Helmut clenched his jaw and shared a glance with James. The longer they stayed, the more difficult it would become to maintain their cover. The opening snap of the bag brought everyone's attention back to Nic. She shifted in her seat, pulling a key out of her pocket.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what she would do next. Helmut cleared his throat and picked different points of interest to look at around the office. He resisted the urge to shift more in his seat or start tapping his fingers. Whatever the young woman was, his stomach rebelled at the thought of watching her snort the powder. Her appearance alone was too close for him to clearly draw the line and separate the two girls. It didn't matter that his Nic would never reach the age this woman in front of him was, would never end up in a sleazy office in Madripoor, snorting God knows what. It didn't stop his blood from freezing in place and a massive pit forming in his stomach.

Helmut settled on looking at Selby instead. He had to concentrate on her or else he wasn't sure if he could keep the content of his stomach in place. It was too similar, too close to home for his mind not to start messing with him with the 'what if' scenarios.

The ride home was dead silent. Helmut was sure that if he clenched the wheel any harder, the leather surrounding it would rip and break. The bright beam-lights of Ivana 's Range Rover Evoque lit up the road in front of him as he sped through the empty streets. He was grateful that there was no other cars around as he wasn't completely sure that he wouldn't murder someone on the spot given the chance.

"Daddy?" Nic pulled his attention from the countless racing thoughts in his head.

"Hmm?" He frowned and tilted his head towards her, not taking his eyes off the road. He needed to concentrate on something else.

"Are you mad?"

"No." Sometimes you had to lie to your children to protect them. He was quite familiar with that concept. Certain matters were best kept hidden. Truths of what his job really entailed, the rumors of human experimentation in outside city facilities, reasons why their country was always on a brink of war or governmental collapse. So what was a small lie about how he felt compared to the never-ending list of half-truths and outright lies he told?

"Are you sure?"

"Don't close your eyes. You'll only make yourself dizzy." He changed the subject instead. He cast a glance at her curled up on the seat and with a sigh, placed his hand on her shoulder. He squeezed it in a warning. The last thing he needed was her freaking out if she started to feel sick.

Helmut had only needed to take one glance at her and instinctively know that it wasn 't just alcohol running through her system. He didn't need proper lighting to know her pupils were still blown out of proportion or look at the way she grounded her jaw to confirm his suspicion.

"I feel sick."

"I bet you do," He muttered under his breath, too low for her to hear. Nonetheless, he pressed down gently on the brakes bringing the car to a smooth stop. "Let's get you some air."

Nic clumsily reached for the door handle and pulled it hard enough that it slipped from her grip and made a loud noise sliding back in place. It took her few tries to actually pry the doors open.

Hearing the door shut, he closed his eyes and leaned further into his seat. Dragging his hand over his face did very little to help him relax the tension that slipped into his bones ever since he answered her call. He could already feel the beginning of a migraine forming.

Helmut sighed deeply and unclipped his seatbelt. He couldn 't let her leave his eyesight for too long. Who the hell knew what she could think of doing in the drug-induced mind. Clearly, there wasn't much thinking involved that got her in this state in the first place. He had to swallow the urge to demand for answers that she most likely would not be able to think of. 'Later', he had to remind himself. They needed to get home first.

Helmut walked around the car from the back and found her sitting on the gravel with knees pulled to her chest. Even with his jacket over whatever it was that she was wearing, she was barely covered. He had no doubt that the gravel that dug into her skin would be painful tomorrow. God, that was never how he wanted to see her.

Slowly crouching down, he put his hand on her shoulder again, feeling it shake under his touch. He brought his other hand into her hair, and stroked it lightly, in an attempt to calm her down. Of course, she ended up freaking herself out. That was what tended to happen when you didn 't think your actions through. Hearing her breath hitch, he forced any emotion he might have felt to leave his voice and moved in closer, dropping down to one of his knees. The gravel was a bitch.

"You're fine. Look at me," He moved his hands to cup her face, tapping her cheek lightly to keep her attention on him for long enough to calm down. "You're okay. Don't work yourself up. It will pass."

She gripped his shirt and lurched herself into his chest, almost knocking him backward. Grunting lightly, he wrapped his arms around her shaking form and let her destroy his shirt with makeup, tears, and snot.

"Come on, mom is waiting for us at home." He encouraged her softly and kissed the side of her head. "I'm sure she has some tea ready for us. That sound good?"

He felt her nod against him and waited a couple of moments before pulling away.

Getting her inside and not waking the entire house was another feat. It seemed that she was hellbent on being as loud as humanly possible. Even with him supporting most of her weight, she found ways to almost trip or knock something off.

"Hey," Ivana greeted them as she stepped from the kitchen into the hall. Her eyes widened at the sight of them. "Whoa."

"Mom!" Nic half screamed into his ear, making him wince in pain.

"Nic!" He hissed in warning. He was this close to snapping entirely. "Carl is asleep, don't be loud."

She turned and looked at him with a wobbly lip and eyes sparkling with tears. Helmut swallowed, feeling the pang of guilt pass him. No, he had no reason to feel guilty. But just because he knew something logically didn 't mean that her expression didn't pierce through his heart.

"Here, I'll put her to bed," Ivana interrupted approaching them and wrapping one of Nic's arms around her shoulder, taking some of the weight off him. "You take a breath."

"I'm fine." He bit out harsher than he meant. Taking a breath in, he glanced at them. "Give a shout if you need help."

It took him longer than a moment to actually let go fully and let Ivana take over. Rubbing his neck, he walked up the stairs to their shared bedroom and dug through the drawers of his bedside table until he found a half-full packet of cigarette carton with a lighter shoved inside.

He took it and walked out into the balcony, leaving the door half-open behind him. He closed his eyes as he brought the bud to his lips and inhaled the smoke deeply into his lungs. Only then could he feel his shoulders releasing some of the tension that he carried. He eventually reopened his eyes, not really looking at anything.

"You're smoking." Helmut eventually heard Ivana behind him but didn't turn to her. At least she didn't sound annoyed.

"Yeah," He mumbled as she joined him and leaned against the railing. "I'll take a shower before I come back to bed."

"I'll let it pass for tonight." She looked him up and down and slightly arched her eyebrow. "Although, do make sure you throw that shirt into a wash. I don't even want to know what's on it."

Helmut could tell she was trying to lighten up his mood but he wasn't sure it was possible at that minute. There were too many emotions swirling under the surface. He wasn't a stranger to saying something in a heat of a moment and then regretting it as soon as it came out of his mouth. Half of their early arguments as a new couple consisted of that. So he kept his mouth shut until he got himself under control. Ivana understood his needs, sometimes more than he did himself, and let him brood in his own misery until he finished his first cigarette and tossed it away.

He sighed deeply and finally turned his head to look at her. She stood beside him in a rich blue, silk dressing gown and some fluffy slippers. For a moment he wondered if it wasn't too cold to stand on a balcony in the middle of the night. A twinge of guilt passed through him. He didn't want his own restlessness to make her cold.

"Am I away from home that often? Going through abandoned bunkers, this. Is this some sort of cry for help or attention? What else don't I know? She secretly dating a fifty-year-old man too?" He pondered, the words rolling off his tongue the moment he opened his mouth. Perhaps he opened his mouth too soon. He stretched out his arm, going for the carton that he threw to the side but she blocked it and took his hand in her own instead.

"She messed up." Ivana agreed quietly, rubbing her fingers against his knuckles.

"She's fifteen, lied where she was, drank and got high off her rockets. I think it constitutes more than just a mess up." He barked out. Fuck. He needed another cigarette.

Untangling his hand free of her hold, this time she didn't stop him as he reached for the carton and pulled out another cigarette before lighting it up again. After a couple of moments of silence, he swapped hands and extended his left for her to hold again. He needed something to ground him.

"I'm not disagreeing with you, love." She reminded him, lacing their fingers together. "But she did call you when she felt unsafe. That counts for something."

"So what? We should congratulate her on making a single sane decision in the mess that she created herself?"

"No one is saying that, Helmut. But maybe you are being a bit too harsh," Ivana said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. He leaned further against the turning in their balcony, exhaling harshly the smoke out of his chest, causing his throat to burn. "She is a teenager after all. They are not exactly known for making the best choices."

"I'm not too hard on her. If anything, I'm clearly not hard enough on her. Hell if I called my father after pulling these kinds of stunts he would have skinned me alive for disrespecting the family name."

"I'd rather have our daughter mess up and know she can call us than her hiding out god knows where out of fear." She chastised him, her tone hardening. It snapped him out of his tirade long enough to realize the implications of what he said.

"My apologies," He lowered his head in shame at even the notion of it. "It wasn't what I intended to say."

"I have been by your side long enough to know what you mean and don't mean. I know you're angry."

"Of course I'm angry. You didn't see her in that dingy bathroom with skimpy clothes, eyes blown wide. It wasn't just some weed she smoked, that's for sure. Besides where did she even pick up such clothes?" Even talking about it made his skin crawl with dread. He brought the cigarette to his mouth yet again, needing the calm. Chain-smoking was a habit that he picked up years ago all the way back when he was just a private, and needed nicotine in stressful situations. This definitely constituted a stressful situation.

Ivana didn't respond, just kept rubbing his shoulder. Her lack of anger was starting to get under his skin. Almost made him feel like he was in the wrong. He wasn't, not this time.

"Why aren't you angry?" He finally asked.

"Of course I'm angry Helmut, I'm furious. But right now, Nic is in bed and you need me more."

Her words, spoken with such gentleness, forced him to turn to her and really look at her. Here she was, in the middle of the night, listening to his ramblings and quietening down all his inner turmoils. What would he ever do without her? There was no way in hell he ever deserved her.

He clenched his jaw a couple of times as he tried to find the words to somehow justify his behavior. To justify the tornado of rage and absolute fear that swirled inside him. In the end, he settled on:

"A girl died a week ago, overdosing on shit like this."

"I know."

"All I can imagine is that being her," He sighed, rubbing his eyes until he saw stars. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't get it out of his head. It was like the idea itself tried to choke the life out of him. "Of getting a call like that in the middle of the night. Instead of the one we got tonight. I can't. I really can't."

Ivana sighed and wrapped her arms around him, stepping on her tippy toes to land her chin on his shoulder. "We won't. You know we won't. She made a mistake and she is sorry about it. We'll make sure it doesn't happen again. Together."

Helmut felt her fingers slowly run through his hair, easing some pressure off his chest. Not enough to let it go entirely, but just enough for him to feel like he could go back inside.

"Well, she's a sad drunk just like you. That's for sure." His attempt to finally lighten the mood felt flat even to his own ears. Nevertheless, she chuckled and slapped his chest lightly in a warning.

"Watch yourself. One more comment and I'll have you sleeping on the couch." She smiled and turned to go back inside but he tugged her back into his hold before she had a chance.

"I love you." He told her, meaning every word. He loved her, truly. He doubted that he would ever find enough words to express just how much he adored her.

"And I love you. Now come on, let's go back to bed. You can be mad at her tomorrow." She took his hand and pulled him back inside their room.

"You go ahead, I'll be back in a couple of minutes."

"You better." She pointed a finger at him. "And seriously, lose the shirt. Preferably into the trash. It's disgusting."

For once he didn't disagree with her opinion on clothes. He doubted he would ever be able to get the stains and the stench out of the material.

"Nothing special for the price. I'd go for the Stironium that Joy offers. Basically the same thing but cheaper. " Nic's voice snapped him back to reality. Swallowing, he spared a glance at her, half expecting her to look drugged up. He didn't delude himself, knowing where he was. Narcotics in Madripoor hit a completely different level. It was more like a ticking Russian Roulette. You were considered lucky if you were alive by the morning.

To his surprise, the woman didn't even look dazed let alone under the influence. That was…an interesting piece of information to know.

"I knew it," Selby sighed and nodded to one of the men who promptly left the office. Her attention returned to him. "What was your offer again?"

"Tell us what you know about the Super-Soldier serum." Helmut proposed and stood up. He circled behind James, touching him just enough to show that he was the one in control. As expected, James did not move or wince as he trailed his hands down his face. "And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want."

"Now that's the Zemo I remember." Selby gleamed at the prospect of his offer. Helmut nodded, pleased. "I'm glad I decided not to kill you immediately. Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right."

With his job of selling the bait complete, he returned to his seat. He nodded in thanks as Nic moved her legs out of his way.

"The Super-Soldier Serum is here in Madripoor. You're looking at one example right in front of you." Selby confirmed his speculation and pointed at Nic lazily.

Helmut struggled briefly to keep his face straight. The woman in front of him did not look like a Super Soldier, if anything she looked very much like a regular person. Well, as normal as a person could be when they looked older version of someone else. But human. Nothing like the ones that he killed in Siberia.

Besides, Selby looked eager when he offered up James. Why would she want him if she already had a Super Soldier working for her? He supposed James was pretty handsome for a man but he doubted that she would be interested in him that way. The Selby he knew was always interested in finding use out of a situation or a person, not to take a personal interest.

Too many things weren't adding up.

"Doctor Nigel is the man you want to thank or condemn," Selby released a dramatic sigh, cocking her head to the side. "Depending on what side of this you're on."

"She's your pet?" Helmut asked curiously. He had so many questions about this Nic, but couldn't ask any of them without giving himself away.

"In a way. Power Broker's toy. Such a pretty thing, lethal too if you can afford her." The way she said, with such glee, made a shiver go down his back. She cast her eyes at Sam. "you know all about that don't you, Smiling Tiger?"

"Don't need to tell me." Sam mustered up all could in sounding confident for which Helmut was thankful. But Selby didn't seem to want to let up.

"You're taller than I'd heard."

"It's the shoes." Nic intervened and loosely crossed her arms, kicking up her foot against his couch. If he didn't know better he would say that it was a subtle attempt to lock him in his place. Was she playing something? He couldn't figure out her angle. Not yet, anyway.

"You had plenty of business with him didn't you?" Selby raised her eyebrow at Nic who merely nodded. "Can you confirm it's him?"

Helmut stiffened up, slowly moving his hand closer to his pockets, ready for a fight. He wondered if he would be able to grab the gun off the table quicker than Selby. Any moment now, their cover would be blown. He doubted the security would hesitate in shooting them. Nic stood up and slowly walked over from the couch to Sam. She circled around him like a cheetah ready to play with her food before devouring it.

She walked right up to Sam until there was almost no space between them and looked up. Helmut was ready to pray to the God he had long abandoned if it kept Sam from blowing their cover by stepping back. They were so close to knowing what they needed, it would be nice if they could leave this place without being shoved inside a body bag. He watched with a bated breath as she tilted her head and clicked her tongue.

"Oh, it's him."

Helmut was not expecting that. He looked up to James who also wore a similar expression of surprise. She was covering for them? Why? He doubted she really believed Sam to be Conrad Mack, she gave them more than enough indication that she suspected at least something.

"Good." Selby flashed her teeth as she turned to Helmut. "Had to ask. Too many fakes running around ever since the Blip."

Yeah, like the one sitting right in front of him who just lied about the identity of the Smiling Tiger.

"The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but… things didn't go as planned."

"Is Nagel still in Madripoor?"

"Oh. The bread crumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you." Selby teased him, raising up. "And before you get all cute, don't think you can find Nagel without me."

Helmut pursed his lips. She was right, people like him loved to hide out in the dark, work off-grid in their own little dungeons. He despised the Frankenstein wannabes, too deluded in their own ideals to see the lines that shouldn't be crossed.

Selby just about passed by Sam when a sudden buzzing noise brought the office to a standstill. It appeared that everyone held in their breath as the vibration rang out again. All eyes turned to Sam who dug into his jacket to retrieve his phone.

Fuck. Fuck. Did he seriously not turn off his phone? Helmut looked away exasperated and his eyes landed on Nic just in time to see her stiffened in her seat and clench her jaw. If Sam blew their cover and Selby realized that she covered for them, for whatever reason, she'd be just in as much hot water as they would.

In conclusion, this was very bad for all of them.

"Answer it. On speaker." Selby ordered as the phone continued to vibrate in Sam's hand. James moved behind Selby as the guards stepped up closer to Sam. Helmut glanced around the place, looking for any possible exit routes or what they could use to defend themselves. If they were ever going to get out of here alive, he was going to feed him nothing but expired food, that was for sure. Did he really need to spell it out for them every little precaution when going into a bad place? What kind of moron didn't turn off his ring tone when going undercover?

"Hello?" Sam answered.

"Hey, um, we need to talk about this situation. It's been drivin' me nuts."

"What situation exactly are you talkin' about?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nic move to the center of the couch as she watched the interaction.

"Are you high? You know what situation, it's the only situation me and you have."

Their eyes met as Nic reached for the gun on the table while everyone's attention was focused on Sam and put it in the inside pocket of her jacket before leaning back. She continued to watch him with a cold gaze as she ran her hand through the right side of her face and settled her fingers over her mouth.

He barely heard it. Perhaps he even imagined it happening at all. Maybe she simply coughed. But at that moment, he was certain that she uttered 'grasshopper' in Sokovian.

The call, Sam, Selby; they all became muted. Mere background noise as his whole body froze up on the spot. There was ringing in his ears. Or was it his own heartbeat that was banging against his eardrums? He wasn't sure. A sudden chill swept through him as if a cold wind cut through his skin. The word was not meant for him. He most likely was not even meant to hear it in the first place.

His brain screamed at him to snap out of it. To get himself back in order before he was riddled with bullets. But even blinking felt like an impossible feat. How was he meant to pay attention to what was going on around him? A fleeting, treasonous, thought crossed his mind. Did it even matter if he ended up with a bullet in his head before he had a chance to fight back? No. He still had a job to do. He needed to finish it before he gave in any temptation.

"If that was the case, then why'd they dog you out, Big Time?"

It felt like forever when he finally zoned back into his surroundings. Right. Sam was about to blow their cover. This woman in front of him was or at least knew Sokovian while looking like his daughter. James did what he did best, and stared at Sam.

Wait. Who was she talking to? Was she wired? Who the hell was on the other end?

Helmut tilted his head ever so slightly as Selby walked behind him. From experience, he did not enjoy someone standing behind when he was not in control of the room. Even now, it made his skin crawl with dread. She was circling them like they were the prey.

"Yeah, you damn right I'm Big Time. You'll see when I have that banker killed."

"Cass! What'd I tell you about the Cheerios?" Helmut inhaled sharply. They were done. "I don't have time for this! Sam, I'm sorry. I'll call you back."

The pressure in the air dropped. Selby raised her eyebrow, surprised.

"Sam? Who's Sam?"

"Now." Nic hissed out at the same time as Selby shouted "Kill them!"

Nic ripped the pistol out of her jacket and jumped up. She aimed and pulled the trigger. The sound of that first bullet leaving the chamber pierced through his eardrums. Multiple shots followed, as well as a window shattering into millions of shards. A man in the very back of the office dropped with dead weight.

The second's hesitation, the shock of surprise that passed through the guards, gave just enough time for Sam and James to overpower them. Helmut leaped from his seat as they fought for the weapons, there was no moment to waste.

Nic jumped over the corner of the couch to the table. Slapping the mask over her face she pulled the table apart. By the time that everyone was either knocked out or dead, she had thrown a backpack over her shoulders and secured it over her chest.

James pointed the gun as the doors to the office opened.

"Whoa." A woman with glasses entered the office. It took her one look inside to raise her hands up in surrender. "Wait I-"

"Nothing personal, it's just business." Nic responded and pulled the trigger before James could.

"They're gonna pin this on us," Sam informed them as he looked at Helmut. As if he didn't know that himself.

"We have a real problem now," He sighed thinking of what they could do. Maybe if they managed to sneak out unnoticed, they'd have just enough time to hide out and eventually get out of Low Town. It was their best chance. "so leave your weapons and follow my lead."

"We have roughly two minutes before every single mercenary gets an alert for a bounty. She was on the no kill list." Nic briefed them as she walked over to them with a phone in hand.

"Two minutes?" Helmut couldn't help but smirk. "A lot can be done in two minutes."

=====

By the time they made it to the streets and turned a corner, Nic's phone chimed up.

"We are about to have a lot of company," Nic called out and held up her phone. It had two notifications:

Messenger | now.

'Selby dead. B1k BOUNTY for her killers.'

Veron | now.

'58324 Ridge Tow. 7 minutes.'

Helmut would have loved to ask about the second message if they weren't about to become biggest practice targets to about every single lowlife in the city.

"What's the plan now?" James bit out as they marched down the street. More and more phones chimed up. Eyes followed their every move.

"Follow me and you might stand a chance," Nic replied, pulling a hood over her head.

"How do we know you're not just going to shoot us? You just said Selby was on the no-kill list and you shot her."

"Oh, you don't. But I am your only hope of staying alive."

"This is not good," Helmut warned, he could see the bystanders arming themselves. They had no choice but to place their trust in her.

The street light went out underneath them and a man pointed a gun at them. Shots rang out behind them.

"Through here," Nic shouted, ducking from the fire. She took a sharp turn behind a parked van that Helmut barely managed not to miss. They sprinted through a small alleyway in between the buildings.

"Why are you helping us?" He called out as they passed yet another turn, barely keeping up with her.

"An interested party is paying a lot of money to keep you alive." She responded and slowed down ever so slightly. As if she noticed that he couldn't keep up with a Super-Soldier speed. She frowned looking behind him. "Are your friends able to follow any basic instructions?"

Helmut looked back as well. Sam and James were nowhere to be seen.

"Not particularly." He sighed, shrugging. "Who is this interested party?"

She did not reply to him. Instead, she tapped her right ear as she held the pistol and slowly walked over to the end of the alleyway.

"We have a problem." She snapped into what he assumed was an earpiece.

"Oh?"

"Forty seconds."

Wordlessly she passed her gun to him and pulled out a blade that he could not recognize in the dim light. She moved out of the alleyway into the open. He followed suit with the gun raised but had no time to see where she ran off to.

Helmut aimed at whoever stood in front of him just as Sam and James cut the corner and appeared into the view. The goon dropped dead before he could pull the trigger. Startled, he squinted to see where the shot came from.

He turned at the sound of motorbikes approaching them. Another shot rang out, right as Nic popped out and dragged the goon off the bike to the floor. He did not rise again.

"You seem to have a guardian angel." Helmut broke the silence, surprised, as he walked up to them.

"Well, this is too perfect. Drop it, Zemo." A voice behind him made him jump and turn around. With the gun in his face, he had no choice but to bend down and slowly put the gun on the floor.

"Sharon?" James faltered, recognizing her. He knew her. A friend?

"You cost me everything." The woman, Sharon, growled at him with the gun still pointed to him. Helmut cocked his eyebrow. Did he? He could not recall ever meeting her before. He raised his hands in surrender and took a step back.

"Sharon, wait." Sam interjected, stepping closer to him. "Someone recreated the Super-Soldier serum and Zemo had a lead."

He was defending him? How sweet. Helmut would have made a witty comment if his life wasn't hanging by a thread. He turned his head to see Nic walking up to them from behind. The knife that she carried had spots of blood on it.

Helmut swallowed nervously. The woman in front of him clearly held a grudge against him and the woman behind him, well he had not the slightest idea what she wanted. Who was to say that they weren't about to end his existence at a moment's notice.

"That explains why you guys are here. And Selby's dead." She gave a pointed look at Nic who just shrugged.

"In my defense, this one did not think to turn off his phone."

"So what are you doing here?" Sam asked, changing the attention away from himself. Helmut wondered if he was embarrassed that he forgot to do such a basic task. He hoped that he was.

"I stole Steve's shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass, so that you could save him from him. I didn't have the Avengers to back me up. So I'm off the grid in Madripoor." Oh. So that's why she didn't like him. Even though it was hardly his fault.

"Don't blow smoke. I was on the run, too."

"Was. Is. Big difference. I don't speak to my family anymore. I can't. My own father doesn't know where I am."

Helmut looked around uncomfortably. He didn't particularly care about their reunion. Especially when they were still out on the open and could be spotted at any moment.

"Listen… Sharon, we need your help." James said, causing the woman to chuckle.

"Please." He added for the good measure.

Sharon sighed and looked behind them where Nic stood around.

"You alright?"

"Never been better," Nic called out. Even with his back turned to her, he could tell she was smirking.

"This isn't over. I have a place in High Town. You'll be safe there for a while."

Helmut shared a look with Sam and James and nodded. Getting a ride to High Town would be safer for them than navigating their way back to the safe house themselves. The bounty on their heads would not go away anytime soon.

"I'll follow by." Nic nodded to them and walked over to the motorbikes that sat empty. Kicking one of the bodies out of her way, she turned on the engine.

Helmut intended to trail behind them but Sam grabbed his shoulder and roughly moved him to the front, preventing him from seeing Nic take off. He still had so many questions and about zero answers when it came to her. Not knowing something was not his style.

The ride from Low Town was just as quiet but more relaxing than their last one. He imagined that having company that did not try to kill them at any chance they got helped.

Glancing at the side mirror, he saw that a single motorbike was close, trailing behind them.

"Your friend," Helmut opened his mouth, hoping to get even a grain of information. "Nic. Who-"

"Shut up, Zemo." Sam snarled from the back as he leaned into the seat's headrest and closed his eyes.

Helmut raised an eyebrow watching him through the rear mirror. At first, he assumed that the hostility was from the adrenaline of having a whole town trying to feed them bullets. But enough time passed for them to settle down and take a breath in. So there had to be another reason for the snappiness.

Helmut racked his brain through the day's events that would result in such behavior. He had to admit a lot did occur in the space of the twenty-four hours.

Oh?

Perhaps his intuition was correct and there was something going on between these two men. It would definitely explain the constant staring at each other. If he was right, he could imagine that Sam did not take lightly at the prospect of him trying to sell off James. Not that he actually wanted or planned to do it. He had hoped it would not come to that point anyway. James was much more useful to have around than not.

====

Their car pulled in front of a gated building that was surrounded by guards. Helmut had to admit, he was impressed. Not many people would be able to afford such a place, especially in High Town. He followed closely behind Sharon as they walked inside.

The inside was as over the top and sleek as he imagined it would be. They passed through numerous paintings that he had no doubt were the real copies and other artifacts. So she was a hustler then.

"Looks like breaking all those laws is treating you well." Sam chuckled looking around.

"I thought if I had to hustle, might as well enjoy the life of a real hustler. You know how much I'll get for a real Monet?" Sharon explained, leading them further in.

"Also it helps that a lot of high-paying idiots do not realize the real value of art and are willing to overpay," Nic added passing them all.

"Deactivate your hustle mode. You sell fake Monets."

"No. She means real." Helmut interjected, having some experience with places like these. Ivana had picked Nude Descending a Staircase, No. 2 by Marcel Duchamp to hang in their living room by the fireplace. "This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. Classics."

"It's true. You know, half the artwork in museums like the Louvre is fake. Real stuff sits in places like this." Even James reaffirmed their point.

"Okay, guys, I see what you're doing. You're more worldly than good old Sam." Sam rolled his eyes and proceeded to Google it.

"Yeah. What's Google say?" James asked sarcastically.

"No shit."

Helmut glanced at them. They fell behind, referring to bicker with each other than to follow them. Definitely had to be fucking.

"Come on. You guys need to change. I'm hosting clients in an hour." Sharon sighed exasperated.

====

Helmut helped himself to the open bar while James and Sam tried to pick what to wear for the evening. There was no way he would exchange the comfort of his own clothes to whatever Sharon had in stock. He already looked the part anyway. It was one of the many advantages of having a good taste in fashion.

Nic apparently had a similar idea as she threw the backpack by James and joined him at the bar. Wordlessly, Helmut passed her a glass and proceeded to pour himself a good amount of scotch. He would need a lot of it if he even wanted to begin to untangle the mess. Ignoring her existence seemed to be the easier option at the moment.

"Much better." Sharon made a comment as she passed Sam who kept changing his mind on what shirt to wear. His indecisiveness started to grate on Helmut's nerves. Even he didn't take this long to choose a shirt and he was called a fashion diva on numerous occasions.

Sharon sat down beside James and took the bag on her lap. She unzipped it and looked up at Nic with a grin.

"You think you can push it?"

"I know I can." Nic replied smugly and rose the glass to her mouth.

"Hold up," Sam interrupted turning to them with a simple turtle neck in his arms. Helmut crinkled his nose. Really? All this time for a plain turtleneck? "What exactly do you do? Cause you are sending mixed messages with the killing and saving our asses."

"I do whatever you can afford me to do." Nic grinned and looked him up and down as if to make a point. Helmut cringed at the suggestive tone of her voice. It made him uncomfortable to even think of what it could entail. Whether she did look like his daughter or not, it felt wrong. He doubted she was much older than twenty. Practically a kid.

Sam cleared his throat uncomfortably, getting a similar image as he did.

"So what?" He asked Sharon, putting the shirt over his head. "You have a lot of people that need to be murdered on your list?"

"Oh, no." Sharon chuckled. "We're friends. I just buy her out whenever I can to mostly chill. Her being able to sell crap to others on the side are just an added bonus."

"Who is the Power Broker now?" Helmut asked as he held the glass in his hands. He doubted it was the same person from when he dealt with him. People in places like Madripoor usually did not reach pension age.

"Depend on which division you want to talk to." Sharon shrugged. "It's not a single entity anymore but more like a big umbrella organization. Even then, you don't really know who you speak to. Suppose it's easier to hold on to power that way."

"You seem like you know a lot about how this place operates. What's going on, Sharon? You don't ever wanna come back home?" Sam frowned, sitting down on the couch opposite of her.

"They'll lock me up if I step foot back in the States. Madripoor doesn't allow extradition." Sharon sighed, standing up and walking over to another table to pick something up. Helmut watched her, noticing that she did not sit in one place for too long. Interesting. He wondered for a second if perhaps she had some form of ADHD or if it was just her body language betraying discomfort.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't call, but after The Blip and the chaos, I just…"

"Look, you know the whole hero thing is a joke, right? The way you gave up that shield, deep down, you must know it's all hypocrisy."

"He knows. And not so deep down." Helmut commented, bringing everyone's attention to him. He raised his glass in fake salute.

"By the way, how is the new Cap?"

"He sounds annoying." Nic interjected. She raised her eyebrow as he looked up at her. "What? It's Madripoor, not a cave. We do keep up with international news."

"Don't get me started." James grumbled, turning his head away.

"Please." Sharon scoffed, settling down beside James again. "You buy into all that stars and stripes bullshit. Before you were his pet psychopath, you were Mr. America! Cap's best friend."

Well, that was offensive. To both him and James.

"Wow. She's kind of awful now." James bit out dryly.

"You get used to it." Nic retorted as she poured herself another drink.

"Karli Morgenthau and at least seven others have taken the serum." Sam spoke, playing with his collar. Either the scotch was really good or the day was getting to him, but if Sam kept messing with his attire one more time he wasn't sure he will be able to control himself enough not to strangle him.

Perhaps he was still annoyed at Sam for not turning off his phone.

"You guys really should steer clear of all of this for your own safety."

"We know it's a risk, but we won't leave until we find the one who cracked the code."

"We got a name. Wilfred Nagel." James added.

Sharon shared a look with Nic before rising once again.

"Nagel works for the Power Broker."

Helmut moved out of her way the moment he saw her walk in his direction. He glanced at the empty seat by a glass table and chose to sit there. It was close enough that he could still see them. The only downside was that Nic was directly in his sight now. With no imminent danger to his life, it was harder to concentrate on other matters and not let his mind run miles away. The longer he looked at her, the more exhausted he felt. Weariness seeped into his bones. He focused on the glass in his hands, running his fingertips through the golden strip.

"We need your help, Sharon. I can get your name cleared."

"You haggling with my life?"

"Not like that."

Helmut frowned. He didn't particularly care for their conversation. Or whether Sharon cleared her name. He was itching to get out, preferably as far away from Nic as possible. Maybe he could drink himself stupid until he forgot ever meeting her. Or until he started to believe that it was just his mind playing tricks on him and he simply slapped Nic's face over someone who shared her name.

That was going to take a lot of alcohol. It had been years since the last time that he got so drunk he passed out. Ironically, alcohol never made him forget, if anything it made the noise in his head so much louder.

He stopped paying attention to their conversation. It became a background noise as he zoned out. Even the glass that he kept staring at blurred away.

"I don't buy that. You pretending like you can clear my name."

"Okay, maybe it is hypocrisy. Maybe you're right. What happened to you. But I'm willing to try if you are. They cleared the bionic staring machine, and he killed almost everybody he's met."

"I heard that."

"I don't trust charity."

A pair of boots in his vision snapped him back. He blinked and looked up to see Nic standing in front of him.

"Sorry. Kind of need that." She pointed at the chest that was on the table.

"Of course." He gave her a polite smile and moved his chair to the side so she could grab it.

He gulped as the perfume hit his senses again. It felt weird. Wrong. His Nic always stole Ivana's perfumes that had some sweet combination of coconut, vanilla and touch of floral notes. She had a habit of spraying just a touch too much.

This was too harsh of a scent on her.

Not her. A stranger. Nic was dead. He should not compare how this woman smelled to how she used to. He had no business judging.

His eyes followed her as she walked off with the chest in her arm as if it weighed nothing and stopped by the stairs.

Sharon put her drink down with thud and straightened up.

"Well, I sell to some pretty connected people. Lay low, blend in, enjoy the party. Try to stay outta trouble. I'll see what I can find."

"Trouble." Helmut blurted out sarcastically and shrugged. He watched as the two women climbed up the stairs and left his sight.

"She means you." Sam gave him a pointed look.

"Why is she mad at me again?" Helmut asked as he got up and moved back to the yellow couches. Sam sat down beside James with a drink in hand. They had some time to kill before the party began.

"You don't remember?" Sam scoffed into his drink.

"Sam, if I tried to remember every single person that I may or may not have inconvenienced directly or indirectly, it would be a very long list and we'd spend a long time sitting around."

"Can't believe I'm saying this again. But it's not the time for arguments." James groaned out and let his head fall onto the back of the couch, almost like the idea itself was paining him.

"Alright. But I swear to God if you even move out of our sight for one second. I will send your ass right back to jail before you can make some stupid remark."

"I have no intention of inconveniencing you that much." Helmut smirked. "But be my guest and enjoy the party, I'm simply going to observe some individuals. No tricks."

"No. See, if we are doing this," Sam protested pointing to the three of them. "We need to know that you are not going to stab us in the back the first chance you get. So you gotta be honest with us, and tell us what the hell you're playing at."

"I told you before, I'm here to end the Super Soldiers serum. Nothing more, nothing less." Seeing the doubt on their faces, Helmut sighed in defeat. "And also figure out who the hell the woman your friend hanging out with is."

"You suspect she isn't just Sharon's friend." James guessed, crossing his arms as he stared at him.

Helmut threw back the glass, swallowing the last of it's contents. With the familiar burn that went down his throat, he pulled out his phone from the inside of his jacket and unlocked it. It didn't take long to search up his personal ICloud storage and enter the password. His phone lit up with multiple folders of pictures and documents that he had on his old phone. He clicked on the 'Pictures' folder, somewhat grateful that the contents of it were grouped by dates and had random strings of letters for its names instead of the actual pictures itself. It wasn't something he could deal with today.'Or ever' his mind supplied ever so helpfully.

He didn't need to scroll far to find the pictures dated back to February 2015. Mainly because he stopped taking pictures past May 2015.

In that February, he managed to pull enough strings with his Lieutenant General to get a couple of weeks off at the same time that Nic and Carl had holidays off school. Ivana wanted to go to Switzerland for the ski season while he wanted to go somewhere warm. After a few days of deliberation, they settled on and ended up flying out to Barbados for couple of days.

Helmut hesitated. It had been years since he saw their faces. Dread settled in his gut as he pressed to open the pictures. He did not give himself enough time to look at the pictures. Just tiniest of flashes as he scrolled through the few landscape shots before he found a picture where Nic was in it.

"This was my daughter, Nic," He told them, raising his phone away from himself and for them to see. "Looks familiar?"

Ivana had her arms wrapped around Nic's shoulders while Nic made a face at the camera. In the picture, Nic was with a mess of brown, wet curls that dropped down her back. She was younger, scrawnier, still with some baby fat in her cheeks but it was impossible not to see the similarities between the girl in the picture and the woman that they just met today. Apart from the haircut and the years, they were identical.

"Oh shit." Sam swore, zooming into the picture.

"Any chance it is her?" James asked looking up from the phone to him.

"I buried what was left of her years ago James. Collapsed buildings and flying ruble do not leave much behind." Helmut clenched his jaw. "But I am pretty certain that it is impossible."

"So either it's the biggest coincidence in the world that we met someone with exactly the same looks and name or either someone is behind this." Sam concluded passing the phone back to him.

"My thoughts exactly." He pocketed the phone back. "I simply wish to find whoever thought this was a funny joke and have a chat with them."

James and Sam shared a look. They did not believe a word of that.

"Alright," James sighed. "We'll see what we can find out before we leave this place."

====

Thank you so much for all the notes. I'm so glad you liked the previous chapters and hope you'll enjoy this too :) xx