#poor cop his job must be a living breathing hell

[dr-ivana-robotnikova]

Good luck Maria. Don't worry too much about him 'kay? He's just a cop. And doing anything to any of us will eventually end up being a bad thing for his own kid. His hands are tied.

I can't imagine you'll get them to do that but I'd like to see you try!

Be safe, kiddo.

Maria dear! How are those wings of yours healing?

- Aunt Ivana

AUNTIE!

*Maria launches herself at Ivana*

Where have you been? Aunt Aggy has been worried sick and I couldn't find you! None of my messages were going through and Thrasher couldn't reach you either!

[dessarious]

How the Sirens Adopted a Ladybug Pt1

So when I was writing the last chapter of How to Not Get a Date it went full blown angst. Since that wasn’t what I wanted for that story and rewrote the chapter that I posted but the other idea decided to blow up into yet another story so here we go again.

AO3   Next

“I don’t suppose I could convince you not to steal that?” Catwoman spun around to find a girl in what looked like a dark red armored suit with black spots. In the Louvre at two in the morning. What the hell?

“And just what are you supposed to be?” The girl just gave her a sardonic smile and Catwoman couldn’t help but notice how tired she looked.

“I’m Ladybug. Hero of Paris.” The sarcastic tone was unexpected and it took her a minute to actually process the words.

“Since when does Paris have Heroes?”

“Since some megalomaniac found a Miraculous and decided to use it for his own selfish desires. If not for the fact that he targets people with strong negative emotions I wouldn’t care what you do. But since the last time the curator of this exhibit was Akumatized it was a three day battle, I would really like to avoid it if I can.” She just continued to frown at the girl. That couldn’t be real.

“Did Harley and Ivy put you up to this?” That just got her confused frown mirrored back at her. She was either a really good actress or she wasn’t lying.

“Look, this exhibit is moving to London in under two weeks. Could you please just wait until it leaves Paris to take whatever it is you’re after?” This was so strange. She claimed to be a hero but didn’t seem to care that Catwoman was stealing, just that it would become her problem. Even most of the bats frowned upon that sort of thing.

“So you’re just going to let me walk out of here like nothing happened?” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, refusing to make eye contact.

“The police have made it clear that it is not my job to apprehend criminals.” There was a lot of anger under those words. Catwoman walked up to the girl and gently lifted her head so she could study her. Seriously, what was it with black hair and blue eyes? Between the bats and Superman she was starting to wonder if it wasn’t a coincidence.

“When was the last time you slept?” She watched Ladybug’s eyes unfocus as she searched for the answer. “How about the last time you ate?” That produced a flinch.

“I can take care of myself.” Well that wasn’t a good reaction. The girl reminded her a bit of Tim and Jason. The sleep deprivation was all the baby CEO but the amorality screamed mister gun nut.

“I’m sure you can. I’ll tell you what; I’ll do what you want but in return you’ll come with me to meet a couple of my friends and let us feed you.” She hesitated but Catwoman didn’t see any worry in her expression. She wasn’t scared of being alone with criminals so it was likely pride holding her back. “I want to talk to you more about the situation here. It’s odd that I haven’t heard about it.”

“No it’s not. The Miraculous magic is very good at containing itself. Very few people outside of Paris have any idea what is going on.” That tone was odd. There was a trace of bitterness but it was mostly resigned.

“How old are you?” The way she held herself said she was experienced in what she did, but everything else screamed that she was still just a kid.

“Old enough to do what must be done.”  Yep, she was dealing with a baby.

------------------------------------------------------

“Will you quit worrying? I’m sure everything’s just fine.” Ivy just shot Harley an annoyed glance. She loved the woman to death but she really needed to take things a bit more seriously sometimes.

“She’s two hours late Harls, that’s a time frame for worry. Not to mention I’ve felt off ever since we got here. There’s something wrong with this city and I don’t like it.” She was constantly on edge and her skin felt like it was trying to crawl off her body. Ivy wanted nothing more than for Selina to get back so they could leave. Sightseeing be damned.

“As always your instincts are dead on.” She let out a relieved breath and turned to yell at Selina for trying to give her a heart attack but couldn’t manage to speak once she saw the person with her. Or rather once she felt the power coming off of them. She pulled Harley behind her and prepared for the worst. Selina was just looking at her like she was insane but the girl was studying her.

“Seriously, you’re scared of a kid?” Harley’s words made her really look at the person and that just made her more worried. Given what she felt this girl was capable of destroying the world without even trying.

“How can you not feel that? The energy radiating from her should be enough that even you should feel it.” Harley and Selina both just looked confused but the girl looked surprised.

“You can actually feel it?” Ivy just nodded. “I’ve never met anyone who could sense the Miraculous before. Whatever you sense though, I assure you I don’t mean any harm. There’s only one person I actually want to maim and I have a feeling when the time comes I won’t even be able to do that.” Well that was… odd. Even Harley was eyeing the girl like she had a screw loose.

“This is Ladybug. She’s a hero here in Paris.” Well that at least explained why she was late. “She’s asked me to hold off on my transaction until it leaves Paris.”

“And you agreed? She’s just going to go to the cops and make things more difficult for you later.” Harley’s words caused anger and hurt to flash across her expression before she controlled it.

“I said I wouldn’t. They wouldn’t take me seriously if I did anyway.” Now she saw why Selina brought her back with her. The girl looked like a stray cat. The stiff way she held herself was exactly like a cat who’d learned that people can’t be trusted, but she refused to run or show fear either. Then Ivy noticed the girls hair and eyes and almost groaned out loud. Selina had been spending so much time with her boyfriend that she was picking up his adoption preferences.

“I wanted to talk with her more about what’s going on here in Paris. We should order food since I have a feeling it’s going to be a long discussion.” Ivy saw the girl's cheeks turn pink and took the time to really look at her. She was the kind of thin that came from not eating rather than just being fit. Her mask hid any bags that might be under her eyes, but even standing still her body was swaying a little. The girl looked like she was about to pass out.

“Of course. Here, have a seat.” Ivy made chairs out of plants for everyone and the girl's face went completely blank before she turned to Selina.

“Is that normal for her?” Harley just started giggling but Selina gave Ladybug a sympathetic smile.

“Yes, Ivy has the power to control plants.” Ladybug let out a relieved sigh.

“Thank Kwami. I don’t think I’m up for another Akuma today.” Ivy shared a confused look with Harley. What the hell was an Akuma?

“You’re fighting people that control plants?” The girl blinked at her in confusion for a moment before understanding dawned.

“No, it’s complicated. I haven’t had to explain this to someone in a long time so I might not make much sense.” She sat while Harley went to order food. Ivy sat across from her and noticed how she melted into the seat. She obviously wasn’t used to being comfortable. When Harley came back in the room they were about to start asking questions when a little black cat shaped creature appeared. It was emitting just as much power as the girl.

“I don’t suppose any of you are willing to spring for camembert?” Harley gave out a squeak of surprise but Catwoman just looked stunned.

“Plagg! Are you out of your mind? Not to mention how rude it is.” Ladybug couldn’t seem to decide whether to be annoyed or embarrassed.

“Given that this one steals for a living I doubt they stand on good manners. Besides, you don’t know if you don’t ask.” The cheeky tone caused an eye twitch in the girl.

“What exactly is that?” Selina hadn’t stopped staring at the creature.

“I’m Plagg, Kwami of Destruction. I power the Black Cat Miraculous.” The girl actually threw her hands up in frustration.

“Tikki’s going to kill us both. Of all the people you could have decided to come out for why would you choose criminals?” Poor kid sounded close to tears and the creature flew up under her chin and started purring. Selina was grinning like a mad woman. Ivy had a feeling things were about to get a lot more complicated.

“Everything will be fine Bug, you’ll see. I’m the Kwami of bad luck and I can feel yours shifting.”

“I thought you said you were the Kwami of Destruction?” Selina sounded far too amused. Ivy shook her head at the woman. She still didn’t understand how no one else could feel the danger here.

“I’m both, just as Tikki is the Kwami of Creation and Good Luck, which is the Miraculous that gives Ladybug her powers.” The Kwami suddenly flew right up to Ivy to study her. “You’re an interesting being. Your abilities are inherently creation but you use them to destroy as well. She could be a good influence for you Bug.” Ladybug let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I’m not using your powers to smite the people you think have wronged me Plagg. And I would really like to stop having this argument.”  

“You act like it’s an opinion rather than a fact. Even Tikki agrees with me there.” The Kwami sounded indignant and more than a little angry. The energy around it was getting steadily stronger. They really needed to divert it’s attention.

“What were you saying about camembert?” The Kwami perked up immediately but Ladybug cringed.

“Kwami need food to recharge and while just about anything will do in a pinch they each have favorites. Plagg’s favorite is extremely smelly and extremely pricy cheese. Which I haven’t been able to provide for awhile now.” Plagg’s expression dropped at her tone.

“Oh kit, it’s not your fault.” The creature flew back to her and began purring again. Ladybug wouldn’t look anyone in the eye but Ivy could feel the guilt and worry coming from her. Whatever was going on this kid needed a break.

“I just need to go change. Then I can run to the store while we wait for the rest of the food.” Plagg looked ecstatic at Selina’s announcement. Ladybug looked mostly worried but there was a bit of relief under that.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said it was expensive. I feel bad enough, don’t let them guilt you into buying something that isn’t really necessary.” Selina scoffed.

“I know exactly how temperamental some creatures are about food and given Ivy’s reaction I’d like to stay on their good side for the moment. Besides, the money isn’t an issue.” She was walking out of the room before the girl could respond. Instead she frowned at Plagg who was still looking after Selina.

“I thought we agreed no more surprises.”

“Tikki and Wayzz agreed, I didn’t. Besides, an opportunity is presenting itself that we don’t want to miss.” Ivy shared a confused look with Harley, who just shrugged at her. Ladybug seemed just as clueless about what they meant. That couldn’t be a good thing.

AO3      Next

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love and Medicine ~ 3

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 4,600ish

Summary: The beginning of your intern year continues.

Warnings: man parts (lol) and talk about rape

You really tried your best, but you couldn’t get the image of a naked Dr. Steve Rogers on the floor of your living room out of your head. You had decided one night that, to help get the image out of your head, you needed roommates. The house that you had inherited was big enough and the longer you lived there, the lonelier it became. So, you created a ‘roommates wanted’ sign and posted it in the locker room before your shift.

You had several interns come up to you explaining why they would be the perfect roommate for you within the first few hours of your shift. It was annoying and you turned every single one of them down, being very particular about who was going to live with you.

“Why do you put up posters for roommates if you don’t want roommates?” Val asked as you, her, and Scott walked down a corridor.

“I do want roommates,” you defended. 

“And why can’t we be those roommates?” Scott wondered

“We’re just together a hundred hours a week, you want to live together too?”

“No,” Natasha responded, walking up to the group. “Ooh, you’re bringing bribes now?” She motioned to the cup of coffee in your hand.

“I need a place to live,” Scott rambled. “My mom irons my scrubs. I have to get out of there.”

“It’s not a bride,” you told Natasha before turning to Scott. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“But I can’t put down last, first, and deposit,” Scott argued.

“It’s totally a bride,” Natasha scoffed.

“I can cook,” Val added. “And I can clean.”

“No,” you stated. “I just want two total strangers who I don't have to talk to, or be nice to, and it's not a bribe, it's a mocha latte.”

“Clint, you’re running the code team,” Gamora ordered as you all walked up to her. “Y/N, take the trauma patients, Natasha, deliver the weekend labs to patients, Val, you’re on sutures, and Scott, you’re on scut.”

“Dr. Gamora,” you called. “I was hoping to assist you in the OR today, maybe do a minor procedure? I think I'm ready. Mocha latte?” You held the cup out for her.

“If she gets to cut, I want to cut too,” Natasha added.

“Yeah, me too,” Val joined in.

“I wouldn’t mind another shot,” Scott shrugged.

“And if everybody else gets one, then I do too!” Clint said.

“Stop talking,” Gamora demanded. You all fell silent. “Every intern wants to perform their first surgery, that's not your job. Do you know what your job is? To make your resident happy. Do I look happy? No. Why? Because my interns are whining. You know what will make me look happy? Having the code team staffed, having the trauma patients taken care of, having the weekend labs delivered, and having someone down in the Pit, doing the sutures.” She swiped the mocha latte from your hand. “No one holds a scalpel until I'm so happy I'm Mary freakin' Poppins.”

“Mocha latte my ass,” Natasha grumbled.

“Why’re y’all still standing there? Move!”

Everyone moved, you heading to the elevator with a few files. You paused in your steps when you noticed who was waiting at the elevator. Dr. Steve Rogers. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, before making your way to stand and wait next to him. When he noticed you, he tried to hide the pleasant smile that wanted to take over his face.

“New York has ferry boats,” he stated.

“Yes,” you replied, a bit confused.

“I didn’t remember that. I grew up here then left, now I’ve been living here for six weeks, and I didn’t remember there were ferry boats.”

“Well, Manhattan is an island.”

“Hence the ferry boats.” The elevator arrived and the two of you stepped onto it. “Now I have to like it here. I wasn’t planning on liking it here. I just moved here from the country. I’m supposed to not like big cities like Manhattan. But I have a thing for ferry boats.”

The elevators doors closed, leaving them alone in the elevator. He was leaning against the wall behind you as you stood in the middle, holding the files to your body. You hoped that he couldn’t hear your heart pounding in your chest. 

“I’m not going out with you,” you blurted. You don’t know if you were trying to tell him that or if you were trying to convince yourself that you weren’t interested.

“Did I ask you to go out with me?” He questioned. He paused before asking the next, “Do you want to go out with me?”

“I'm not dating you. And I'm definitely not sleeping with you again. You're my boss.”

“I'm your boss's boss.”

“You're my teacher. And my teacher's teacher. And you're my teacher.”

“I'm your sister, I'm your daughter,” he joked.

“You're sexually harassing me.”

“I'm riding an elevator.” He stepped towards you, you could practically feel him breathing down your neck. You spun around to face him.

“Look, I'm drawing a line. The line is drawn. There's a big line.”

“So, this line. Is it imaginary, or do I need to get you a marker?”

You stared at him for a second, basking in all his attractiveness. It didn’t take you very long to go ‘screw it’ and drop the files you were holding and kiss him. Steve was a tad surprised but caught on quickly. When the elevator dinged, you quickly crouched down to pick up the files and rushed out of the elevator. Steve stood there, looking amused.

“We’ll talk later?” He called after you. You ignored him and he chuckled to himself. “Definitely, later.”

~~~

In between taking care of patients, you had interns begging you to let them be your roommate. You were slowly regretting the idea of roommates the longer the day went on. Thankfully, your pager rang and requested you down in the ER.

“You the surgeon?” A nurse asked as you entered the room.

“Yes,” you replied.

“We’ve got a rape victim. 21-year-old female found down at the park, status: post-trauma, she came in with a GCS of 6, BP 80 over 60, head trauma, unequal breath sounds, right pupil is dilated, and she's ready for x-ray. You ready to roll?” You were listening but also focused on the girl’s shoes. They were the same ones you had worn to work. “Hey!”

“Uh, sorry,” you stumbled. “Yeah. Call it in to clear CT, let them know I'm coming, load up the portable monitor, call respiratory for a ventilator, I'll get x-rays while I'm down there.”

You quickly learned that the girls name was Mallory and, just by you reading the scans alone, she would be needing surgery. Dr. Banner and Dr. Rogers were both called in while you were allowed to watch and hopefully assist.

“She’s going to spend a hell of a lot of time in recovery and rehab,” Dr. Rogers stated.

“If she survives,” Dr. Banner added.

“What is she, like, 5'2", a hundred pounds, she's still breathing after what this guy did to her? If they catch the guy, they should castrate him.”

“See how shredded her hands are? She tried to fight back.”

“Tried to?” Dr. Stark repeated, walking into the room. “Rape kit came back negative. She kicked his ass.”

“So, we have a warrior amount us, huh?” Rogers questioned. 

“Hell yeah we do! I just came in to tell you about the rape kit and to see if you needed me anytime soon. Can’t have the poor girl be reminded of the incident with so many scars.”

“Mallory,” you interrupted. “Her—her name is Mallory.”

“Mallory,” Rogers and Stark repeated. 

“I think I may have found the cause of our rupture,” Banner said, pulling out a piece of flesh. “What is this?” He held it up. “Does anyone know what this is?”

“Oh my gosh,” you gasped, with Dr. Stark snickering from the sidelines.

“What? Spit it out, L/N.”

“She bit it off.”

“Bit off what?”

“That’s his…” You swallowed. “His penis.” Shocked groans filled the OR. “She bit off his penis.”

“Told you she kicked his ass!” Stark exclaimed as Banner couldn’t toss the piece of flesh into the try fast enough. 

~~~

After the surgery, the penis was placed in a small cooler. You were tasked to bring it to Fury for the police. You knocked at the door of his office, where an older woman is in there.

“Hi, is the chief in?” You asked.

“He’s on his way,” she responded. “Is that it?”

“Can I see it?” You looked down at the box and then up again. “No, forget I asked.”

“Y/N, it’s good to see you,” Fury greeted as he entered, going to his desk.

“You too, sir,” you responded with a nod. “Listen, so they said to bring this to you,” you lifted up the cooler. “So…?”

“Yes, for the police,” Fury responded.

“Right.”

“When did the police say they'll come?” Fury asked his assistant.

“You know how slow they are,” she answered. “So, she’d better take it with her.”

“What?” You questioned.

“You have to take it with you.”

“Chain of custody rules,” Fury explained. “All medical matter in a rape must stay with the person who collected it, until it's placed in police custody.”

“You collected the specimen, so you have custody.”

“Custody of a penis…” You said.

“Yes,” Fury answered. “Until the cops come for it.”

“Okay. Well, what am I supposed to do with the penis?”

Fury simply shrugged before excusing you. You huffed, leaving the office with the cooler. You wandered the halls until you saw Clint working at a desk. You walked over, setting the cooler down and causing Clint to look up at you.

“What’s that?” He pointed to the cooler as he asked.

“Don’t ask, you don’t want to know,” you responded.

“I do want to know. Really.”

“You really want to know?” Clint nodded. “It’s a severed penis.”

“Okay… I didn’t really want to know.”

“Told you.”

“I didn’t know why I have to be the one who gets hugged,” Natasha complained to Peter as they walked up.

“Because, I don’t do that,” Peter replied. “Besides, you're the ovarian sister here.”

“Did you just call me an ovarian sis— an ovarian— since when has the possession of ovaries become an insult?”

“Y/N’s carrying a penis around in a jar,” Clint interrupted.

“Oh, from the rape surgery?” Natasha looked around.

“Yeah,” you answered. “And it’s not a jar, it’s a cooler.”

“Talk about taking a bite out of crime.” Natasha chuckled as she left.

You were suddenly lost in your head, unable to stop thinking about Mallory’s shoes. They were the same as yours. You had worn them to work today, which was weird. You never really wear them.

“You okay?” Clint asked.

“Yeah… it’s just… Mallory's shoes. The rape victim, Mallory, her shoes. I have the same ones. In my locker. And I normally never wear them, because they're not comfortable, but today I did, and she was wearing the same shoes, and it's just… stupid, and I'm tired, and forget it.”

“You know what you need?” Clint stared at you.

“No. It’s stick and twisted. We said last time was the last time.” Clint looked away. “You’ve been doing it without me?”

“Nancy Reagan lied. You can't just say no. Come on.”

“Do you know what would happen if anyone knew?”

“I'm doing it. You can come with me… or you can stay here, and be miserable.”

“Fine,” you tried to hold back a smile as you followed Clint. 

He led you to the nursery, where you two stood at the window and watched the babies. You laughed as Clint did some baby talk.

“You are such a woman,” you laughed.

Clint’s pager beeped before he could retorted. “It’s a code,” he sighed. “I gotta go.” 

He left, leaving you to sigh as you watched the babies.

“You are really cute,” you whispered as you looked at them.

As you watched them, you noticed at one of the babies was struggling. His face was slowly turning blue. You quickly entered the nursery, setting the cooler to the side before checking the babies chart. Then you sided your stethoscope to check on the babies heart.

“What are you doing in here?” A Peds Intern asked, walking into the room.

“There were no tests ordered,” you answered. “And the baby has a murmur.”

“I know.”

“He turned blue.”

“You're surgery, you're not authorized to be in here. Do you know how much trouble you can get into for this?”

“Are you going to do any tests?”

“It's a benign systolic ejection murmur. It goes away with age.”

“So you're not going to do any tests.”

“He's not your patient, he's not even on your service.”

“Are you sure it’s benign?”

“I'm a doctor too, you know. You should get out of here.”

Deciding you’d rather not get in trouble, you grabbed the cooler and left. You were stopped along your wandering by more interns who wanted to room with you. After having listened to three of them, you walked away, still unimpressed, and went to Mallory’s room. You were looking at her through the window when Dr. Rogers came up.

“Y/N,” he greeted. “I've called every hospital in the county. Sooner or later, the guy that did this is going to seek medical attention, and when he does, that penis you're carrying around is going to nail him.”

“Where is her family?” You asked.

“Doesn’t have any.”

“No siblings?”

“No. Both parents are dead. She just moved to New York three weeks ago. Welcome to the city.” When you didn’t give a response he turned to look at you. You were lost in your thoughts. “Y/N, you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. I just… I just have to do something. I have to go.”

“Right. I’m going to sit with her.”

You nodded before rushing away to find Dr. Banner.

“Dr. Banner?” You called when you saw him.

“Mmm?” He hummed, turning to face you.

“There's a baby up in peds, I saw him have a tet spell, and I think I hear a murmur.”

“Mmm. Did peds call us for a consult?”

“Actually, no. They’re not doing anything about it—“

“So you want me to what?”

“If you could just go up and look at him—“

“Mm-hmm, not without a Peds consult.”

“Yeah, but—“

“I’m a busy man, L/N, and there are rules. Look, it’s not like I’m the Chief or something.”

Then he stocked off, leaving you frustrated. 

“Stupid rules.”

~~~

Eventually, you found a spot in the lobby to sit. Just waiting for the cops to show up.

“What’re you doing down here?” Natasha asked when she came across you.

“Just sitting here with my penis,” you responded. “What about you?”

“Hiding from Peter.” She sat beside you.

“I kissed Steve.”

“You kissed Steve.”

“In the elevator.”

“Oh, you kissed him in the elevator.”

“I was having a bad day. I am having a bad day.”

“Oh, so this is what you do on your bad days. Make out with Captain McDreamy.” You both stood up.

“Well, that, and you know, carrying around a penis just makes everything seem so shiny and happy.”

“Mmm. Clint said Mallory was wearing your shoes.”

“Yeah. It’s weird, right?”

“I think it’s weird that you care.”

“I think it’s weird.”

From outside, a car swerves. You and Natasha could hear it from inside, causing you to rush out. A man staggered out of the car, clothes soaked in blood, mainly around his crotch. He collapses. Other doctors and nurses followed you out and immediately began checking on him. You immediately knew that the guy was the owner of the penis you had been carrying around all day. The other doctors brought him into a trauma room. You followed, quickly calling security.

“So, what’ve we got?” Gamora asked as she entered.

“Take a look,” you responded.

“What?” She leaned closer. “Alright, let’s get him to OR 1. Y/N, you call the Chief and let him know we got the rapist.”

~~~

You and Natasha were in the OR with Gamora and Stark. They were working on the rapist.

“I saw Mallory,” you said, eyes on the operating table. “You can’t believe the beating that she took. And then to see this…”

“It's like that old saying, you should see the other guy,” Natasha said.

“Okay, kiddos, why are we not attempting to reattach the severed penis?” Dr. Stark asked.

“Teeth don’t slice, they tear. You can only reattach with a clean cut. If she wanted to slice him off with a knife…”

“Besides,” you continued for Natasha, “the digestive juices didn't leave much of the flesh to work with.”

“Right,” Gamora agreed, “so what do we do?”

“Sew him up minus a large part of the family jewels,” Natasha answered.

“And his outlook?”

“He'll be urinating out of a bag for a very, very long time,” Natasha added.

“Oh, too bad.”

“Shame.”

“I can’t imagine not having sex,” Stark commented. “I think that I would just end my life if I couldn’t do a round every day.” Everyone looked at him. “What? It shouldn’t be that surprising.”

“No wonder, Dr. Potts keeps turning you down,” Gamora said.

“I’ll get her one day. Just you wait. I’m going to marry that woman if it’s the last thing I do.”

~~~

You met with the police after the surgery where they told you that they couldn’t send their crime scene guy down for hours. Annoyed, you searched for your intern friends. You found them in the empty corridor, sitting on the beds.

“So, the police say that they can’t send down the crack crime scene guy for hours,” you told them as you entered, sitting down beside Natasha. “So I have to spend the night with a penis. Peter, don’t say it.”

“Ahh, it was too easy anyway,” Peter responded.

“Who here feels like they have no idea what they’re doing?” Scott asked. Everyone of you, but Peter, raised a hand.

“I mean, are we supposed to be learning something?” Clint wondered. “Because I don’t feel like I’m learning anything.”

“Except how not to sleep,” Val added.

“It’s like there’s this wall,” Natasha said, “and the attending and the residents are over there, being surgeons, and we’re over here, being—“

“Suturing, code running, lab delivering penis-minders,” you grumbled.

“I hate being an intern,” Peter stated.

Gamora walked into the hallway, looking expectant. All of you interns quickly got up and took your leave. All the others had things to do, so you found yourself in front of the babies again. As you looked at the baby you’re so worried about, you noticed the parents. Taking a deep breath, you decided to go up to them.

“Hi,” you greeted with a soft smile.

“Hi,” the mother greeted back.

“Is he yours?” You nodded to the baby.

“Yeah,” the mother smiled.

“He’s adorable… Have you noticed anything that would concern you?”

“No,” the father responded. “Have you?”

“Earlier today I noticed him turning blue.”

“Blue?” The mother repeated.

“Yes. I checked him and I heard a murmur.”

“We were told that the murmur was benign,” the father stated.

“I don’t think it is. I think—“

“You are so out of line,” the Peds Intern interrupted.

“She says the murmur might not be benign,” the father said.

“I think we should do an echo, to check,” you suggested.

“This is your career,” the intern said, going to get her resident.

“There’s really no reason to get alarmed,” you told the parents.

“What’s the problem?” The resident asked, coming back with the intern.

“If our baby is sick, we want him treated,” the mother ordered. “Now.”

“Who said your baby was sick?”

“Her,” the Peds Intern answered, pointing to you. “The surgical intern who has no business on our service.”

“Who authorized you being here?”

“I was just,” you began, “actually—“

“I did,” Dr. Banner came up from behind you. “Could you excuse us for a second?” Dr. Banner took the resident to the side, but not far enough for you to not hear. “Are you messing with my intern, Dr. Keener?”

“No, sir,” the resident responded.

Dr. Banner turned back to you and the other intern. “Give me the chart.”

“There’s nothing wrong with him,” the intern said, giving up the chart, “I checked.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You can guarantee that he is fine, you are 100% sure.”

The intern looked hesitant.

“How sure are you?” The resident questioned.

“I don’t know,” the intern responded. “75%.”

“Not good enough,” Banner said. “He’s my patient now. That okay with you, Dr. K?”

“Absolutely,” the resident responded.

“He can take our patient?” The intern asked.

“He’s an attending.”

“Which means I can do whatever I want,” Banner replied before heading to the parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, I’m Dr. Banner, head of cardio. We’re going to run some tests and give you an answer within the hour. Excuse me.” He turned to you. “L/N.” He motioned for you to follow, which you quickly did. “I want an EKG, a chest x-ray, and an ECHO. I don’t have all day.”

“You’re a busy man.”

“I’m a busy man.”

You quickly ordered the tests then wandered the hospital more, since you weren’t allowed to do anything while you were watching the penis. After a little while, you found Dr. Banner again.

“Well?” You asked as you walked up to him.

“It’s a birth defect,” Dr. Banner replied. “Tetrology affirmed lower pulmonary artresia. You were right. I'm booking the OR for tomorrow.”

“Thank you for backing me up on this.”

“Whoa, whoa, wait, whoa. You were right. But if you ever pull a stunt like that again...going to the parents behind a doctor's back? Trying to steal a patient from another service? I will make your residency year hell on earth.”

He walked off and you smiled slightly to yourself. You made your way back to the babies, where you watched, from the other side of the window, Banner talk to the parents.

“His heart surgery is scheduled for the morning,” the Peds Intern told you. “I really did think I was right, you know.”

“I know. We almost never are. We're interns,” you responded. “We're not supposed to be right. And when we are, it's completely shocking.”

“Are you— I mean, being an intern, do you feel…”

“Terrified. 100% of the time.”

“Good, it’s not just me.”

“No.”

You decided, after finishing up with the babies, to go check on Mallory. When you arrived, you realized that Steve was still in there.

“How is she?” You asked, standing in the doorway.

“No change,” Steve answered with a sigh.

“Have you been here all night?”

“Mm-hmm. Yup… If I was in a comma, I’d want someone to be here. I know I would have people there. Having no one? Can’t imagine that.”

“I can.”

“Don’t you have any family?”

“I do. Just… I don’t think they’d come.”

Steve watched you carefully before speaking again. “So… we’re kissing but we’re not dating?”

“I knew that was going to come up.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I like the kissing. I’m all for the kissing. More kissing, I say.”

“I have no idea what that was about.”

“Is it going to happen again? Because if it is, I need to bring breath mints. Put a condom in my wallet.”

“Shut up now.” Steve laughed. “There was this baby up in the nursery. He's brand new. No one's neglected him or damaged him yet. How do we get from there to here? She's wearing my shoes and someone's beat the crap out of her, and she's got nobody.”

Suddenly, Mallory’s machine’s began beeping. You quickly hit an alarm on the wall.

“Her ICP’s double, get an OR!” Steve yelled. “Put her in for a craniotomy!”

~~~

You waited outside the OR, still watching over the stupid penis, while Steve operated on Mallory. You were nervous for her and felt bad that no one was there for her. Once the surgery was over, Steve exited the OR, walking past you. When he noticed you were there, he turned back.

“Hey,” he greeted. “I, uh, I had to leave her skull flap off, till the pressure in her brain goes down.”

“She’s not going to make it, is she?” You asked.

“She’s going to be fine.”

“If she ever wakes up.”

Steve nodded. “If she ever wakes up.” You nodded, biting your lip as you looked away. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Your pager went off. You looked down to see it was the Chief. “I’ve gotta go. That’s the Chief. Maybe I can finally get rid of this thing.” You lifted the cooler slightly.

“Yeah,” Steve chuckled. “Good luck.”

~~~

“So here is where you put the signature, down here, the initials,” Fury’s assistant pointed out on a paper.

“Mmm,” you hummed with a nod, taking the paper and pen from her. “Okay.”

“It just says that the penis was never out of your sight.”

“Of course.” You sighed and handed over the paper. “There you go. One penis.” You glanced at the clock and realized that it was time for the baby’s surgery. “Am I all done here? I kinda want to go watch a surgery.”

“Sure.”

You tried to rush, but not rush, to the OR Dr. Banner was working in. When you arrived, you found a spot in the back.

“We'll be using a medium approach for a trans-ventricular repair with a right ventriculostomy,” Banner explained. “Let’s open him up. L/N!” He looked around for you.

“Yes, sir?” You replied.

“Go scrub in. When we've finished cracking the baby's chest, I'll let you hold the clamp.”

“Seriously?” You tried to contain your excitement.

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

You rushed to scrubbed in. And, let’s just say, holding onto that clamp was a rush and just what you needed to help brighten your shift. After that, you went to watch the babies, Val, Clint, and Scott all joining you.

You let out a sigh. “Okay, fine,” you relented. “You guys can move into the house.”

“Yes! Yes!” The guys shouted.

“I can’t believe you caved!” Val laughed.

“I can’t believe it either,” you mumbled, trying to hide the smile.

~~~

You changed out of your scrubs and stared at the shoes in your locker. You couldn’t stop thinking about how weird it was that you had decided to wear those shoes today. With determination, you shut the locker on your shoes and went to the elevator. Steve was there waiting.

“So… it’s intense…” he started. “This thing I have for, ah, ferry boats… I mean.”

You smiled at him. “I’m so taking the stairs this time.” You walked off.

“No self-control,” he called after you. “It’s sad. Really.” He chuckled to himself as you continued to walk away. “Wow… this is so—“

“Weird. It’s weird,” Dr. Stark came up, ready to go too. “Like I said before, that look is bad news. And you—“

“Didn’t I already tell you to shut it Tony?”

“Fine.” Tony held his hands up. “But, seriously, don’t come crying to me when it all blows up in your face.”

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2​​. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

[stardust-walker]

High Hopes

word count: 4014

Chapters: 1 2 3

Chapter 4

The weirdest thing is that a few months ago, Dove wouldn’t think that listening to kids running and playing would sound as sweet as it did.

A small chuckle escaped her as she sat on the steps leading into Dale’s RV. The horrified look on Glenn’s face as he stopped mid-greeting was just as amusing.

“Well. Good morning to you too, sunshine,” Dove squinted as she stood up and moved to stand next to him.

“When did they start tearing it apart,” Glenn frowned as he folded his arms in front of his chest.

Dove shrugged her shoulders, “’Bout a half an hour ago, I suppose.” She ran a hand through her dark hair as she turned her head slightly. Rick was finally awake again. Dove raised a hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she greeted the newcomer. “Mornin’, Rick!”

“Go on! Tear it apart, you vultures.” Glenn scowled and shook his head. Dove couldn’t keep herself from letting out a snort of laughter.

“Generators need every drop of fuel they can get,” Dale stated matter-of-factly as he walked past them.

“He has a fair point. I’d rather have a shower than a fancy car,” Dove mumbled quietly.

“I thought I’d get to drive it another few days,” Glenn sighed.

Dove turned her head slightly as Rick responded, “Maybe we’ll get to steal another one someday.”

This new way of living sure was a hell of a thing when you had a sheriff encouraging grand theft auto.

Dove placed a comforting hand on Glenn’s shoulder, “Maybe an even nicer one! One that’s not going to send an alarm running for miles next time too.” Glenn just let out an annoyed sigh.

Glenn seemed to be resigned to the fact that his car was being torn apart by Jim. Dove patted his shoulder again as she watched him step forward to converse with the other man. Knowing him, he was still probably trying to talk about what a cool car it was to anyone who would listen.

A revving engine caught the attention of a few members of the camp as Shane pulled up. He announced, “Make sure to boil the water before use.”

Carol made her way over to Dove. “Too bad about Glenn’s car, huh?”

The response caught in Dove’s throat as a shrill scream erupted from the woods close by, followed by another voice screaming “Mom!!”

A panicked look was exchanged between the sisters for a moment and then they were both off. Carol screamed for Sophia and the relief was obvious on Dove’s face as the little girl broke through the trees with Carl hot on her heels.

Tiny arms wrapped themselves around her waist as Dove knelt quickly to survey her niece for any marks. “Are you alright, Soph? Nothing bit you?” Sophia shook her head quickly, only able to muster up a panicked whimper. Carol finally broke through the trees behind her and let out a relieved cry as Sophia released her aunt with a cry of, “Mommy!!”

Dove glanced around quickly before she pointed back towards camp. “Take them back now! I’m just gonna make sure everything’s alright!” Carol nodded her head and scooped Sophia up.

Lori, however, eyed her warily for a moment before the brunette disappeared into the tree line again.

As she broke through the trees she held back a hysterical laugh. They were just stood around the damn thing, beating it with sticks. So much for being evolved past a caveman brain.

Amy let out a disgusted groan as the walkers head was finally chopped off.

Dale muttered, “That’s the first one we’ve had out here.”

Jim replied, “They must be running out of food in the city.”

Dove looked over at Amy and Andrea. Both of the sisters were just looking on like a couple of deer in the headlights and she couldn’t blame them. She felt a little nauseous herself.

Branches snapped in the woods and all conversation stopped. Andrea put a protective arm around Amy and Dove took a slow step forward towards the men. Curiosity was a bitch of a thing, but she wanted to see what exactly was going to happen.

Her heart leapt into her throat and plummeted back to her stomach as Daryl Dixon came into view. Her eyes locked with Jim’s in a moment of panic before she quickly looked down at her feet. Honestly, she would rather have a walker run out of the woods right now than have to face the inevitable.

Daryl looked pissed already. Definitely a good sign for them. “That was my deer. Look at it! All gnawed on by this filthy, disease ridden, motherless, proxy bastard!”

Dale shook his head in disgust, “Now come on, son. That’s not helping anyone.”

Daryl’s temper flared up again as he stepped quickly over the walker, headed right for Dale. Dove took a quick step closer to Rick as she eyed the officer, trying to communicate that this was not a good sign. “What do you know about it, old man? Why don’t you take that stupid hat and go back to ‘on golden pond’?”

A surprised laugh, which was able to be quickly covered up as a cough escaped Dove’s lips. Glenn elbowed her slightly in the side and narrowed his eyes once he had her attention. The woman merely shrugged as she turned her attention back to the dead animal. Her stomach did begin to rumble at the thought of venison, or anything other than squirrels for that matter. A sigh left her lips as Shane stated, “I wouldn’t risk that.”

Daryl’s focus drifted to her, almost asking for another opinion. Dove shrugged her shoulders before she slipped her hands into her back pockets, “As good as it sounds, it’s too risky. We got kids to think about and what if they eat tainted meat? Get sick?”

Daryl sighed and shook his head, “Damn shame. I got a few squirrels though. ‘Bout a dozen or so. That’ll have to do.” The calmness in the air broke as the walker head at her feet started snapping its jaw again. Dove let out a startled shriek and stumbled back into Glenn as Daryl shot an arrow into it’s brain. “Gotta be the brain. Don’t ya’ know nothin?”

The focus of the group shifted again as Daryl stalked off towards camp. Dale looked startled, “I don’t see this going well.”

Shane removed the hat from his head as the group started to walk, Dove started to take longer strides to keep up with the two officers. She heard Shane mention Daryl’s name and spoke up.

“I think you guys really need to think about doing this,” Dove spoke, concern in her voice. “I think you oughta try and break it to him as gently as possible. People like him tend to react violently, plus he seems pretty hyped up from losing that deer.”

The two men kept moving, but Rick glanced over his shoulder at her. “What’d you do before this?”

“I was a therapist. Getting ready to work on my PhD. Why?”

She didn’t miss the look the two men exchanged and fell back a step. Glenn flinched as he heard Daryl yell for Merle. “This is gonna be a shit show,” Glenn sighed.

Dove shook her head as Shane stopped Daryl in his tracks. “Poor guy. I got money on Dixon, though. He’s a scrapper.” She whispered so only Glenn could hear. Glenn let out a nervous chuckle as the two of them came to a stop next to the Jeep.

“There was a problem in Atlanta.” Seriously, Dove thought, he’s going to drag it out like this? What a mess.

“He dead?” Dove gripped Glenn’s wrist a little tighter than she meant to as she took a step closer to him.

“We’re not sure.”

“He either is or he ain’t!” Dove couldn’t really blame him for being so angry. She could only imagine how mad she would be if it were Carol on that roof. She would probably be trying to kick the ass of anyone she could find.

“No easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it,” Rick stated as he finally took a step forward. What a time to play good cop, bad cop.

Rick introduced himself, only to be met with, “Rick Grimes, you got somethin’ you wanna tell me?”

“Your brother was a danger to us all. So I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal,” Rick finished. Damn, she had to admire how he got right to the point about it. “He’s still there.”

Daryl started pacing like a caged animal. “Hold on. Let me process this. You’re saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there?” Daryl shouted. Dove could feel her pulse quickening as a million and one ways that she was trained to de-escalate someone this angry ran through her head. None of them seemed to make any sense right now under the heat from the burning Atlanta sun.

The next few seconds were a blur. Daryl yelled, Dove let out a startled yelp as the squirrels flew towards her, she stepped back closer to Glenn, and just like that, Daryl was on the ground. T-Dog stepped forward, shouting something about a knife. Dove took a few slow steps forward, eyes wide as saucers as she watched Shane bring him down in a chokehold after a few swings of a knife.

“Chokeholds illegal,” Daryl managed to choke out.

Shane sounded too comfortable with it for Dove’s liking. “Yeah, well, file a complaint.” Dove argued with herself internally as she watched Daryl keep struggling to be let go.

Rick knelt in front of the other two men, clearly trying to calm the situation down. “I’d like to have a calm discussion on this topic.”

Dove scowled as she squatted down between the two officers. “Not to tell you how to do your job, but it’s awful hard to have a calm discussion with a man whose air supply is being cut off,” she finished through gritted teeth.

 Rick glanced at her and nodded before he turned back to Daryl, “You think we can manage that?”

The two officers nodded at each other and Dove stood up quickly as Daryl finally got released. She watched for a moment, still in shock about what just happened, when she saw Daryl still trying to catch his breath as he pointed at Shane. Dove turned quickly and placed a hand on Shane’s arm. “Just back up, man. Rick’s got it. You don’t need to be bad cop right now,” she pushed him back gently before she walked past the other two men, joining Lori by the steps to the RV.

“You good,” the other woman asked, her eyes not leaving the scene in front of her.

“Yeah just adrenaline rush. I’m fine,” Dove nodded as she brushed her hair out of her eyes. She turned her head slightly and met Carol’s worried gaze through the window of the RV. Dove held her hand up and nodded her head.

“It’s not Rick’s fault,” T-Dog interjected and suddenly the focus was on him. “I had the key. I dropped it.”

Daryl snapped again, “You couldn’t pick it up?”

“Well, I dropped it in a drain.” Dove couldn’t help but roll her eyes at this. This just sounded worse and worse the more they tried to explain it to him. At least no one was dead yet.

Her heart sank as she folded her arms in front of her chest, her focus shifted with everyone else’s as the men moved slowly around camp. She knew that Daryl and his brother were close but, shit. She didn’t expect to see him cry for even a second. One of her hands flew up to cover her mouth as she looked down at her feet.

She wasn’t surprised when Daryl shouted. “Hell with all y’all. Just tell me where he is so’s I can go get em.”

What truly shocked her was Lori. The older woman spoke up from her spot by the door at this. “He’ll show you. Won’t you?” She almost insisted with just her words as she locked eyes with her husband.

Dove was torn between following Lori back into the RV or following after Rick as the conflict came to a close. She, instead, chose to check on Carol and Sophia. Her steps were quiet as she walked up the steps to the RV. Dove slid into the seat at the table opposite of her family and reached a hand out to stroke Sophia’s arm. “Hey, bug. You were real brave out there today,” Dove spoke softly as Sophia lifted her head from her mother’s arms.

Sophia sniffled and rubbed her eyes before she looked between the two sisters. “I was really scared,” the young girl whispered.

Dove smiled a little and nodded her head. “I was too, bug. But you did the right thing by runnin like that. Hell, I don’t think either of us knew you could run that fast!” Carol chuckled softly at this as she stroked the young girl’s hair.

“She’s right, Sophia. You kept yourself safe. That was the right thing to do.” Carol kissed the top of her daughter’s forehead before she whispered for her to do something that sounded a lot like ‘go check on Carl’.

Dove drummed her fingers on the table as her thoughts raced through her head. Carol’s voice finally pulled her out of her own head. “You want to go with them, don’t you.” Carol stated in a hushed voice.

Dove’s eyes shot up. Her hazel eyes widened a little bit as she felt color rush to her cheeks. “I…I was thinking about it.”

Carol clicked her tongue and shook her head. “I don’t want my sister out there dyin’ for someone like Merle Dixon.” Her voice didn’t raise above a whisper, though she didn’t sound pleased at all.

Dove rolled her eyes at this. “That’s not what I was thinking of!”

“Then what were you…”

Dove cut her older sister off as she reached out and took her hand, “What if that was me up there, huh? Or you? Would you want me to just leave you up there like that to die?” Dove hissed. “It’s the right thing to do, Carol. Merle or not, it’s the right thing to do.”

Carol’s eyes widened slightly as she took in her sister’s words and nodded her head slowly. “If that’s what you want to do, I can’t stop you. But I just want you to be careful. I don’t want to be explaining to Sophia why her aunt isn’t around anymore.”

A small smirk graced Dove’s face as she squeezed Carol’s hand gently. “Oh please. I’m always careful.”

It was Carol’s turn to roll her eyes as Dove rose from her seat, kissed her older sister on the top of her head, and descended the stairs out of the RV.

Dove looked around camp before spotting Daryl by the fire. She took a long deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth before trudging forward. “Hey, you alright?” Dumb question.

“What kinda stupid question is that,” Daryl snapped at her.

Dove raised both her hands in front of her, a tired expression on her face. “Right. Guess I deserved that, it was pretty fucking stupid huh.”

Daryl just stared at her for a moment. He had the type of eyes that made her uneasy sometimes; eyes that could stare right into your soul if you’d let them. “What do you want?”

Dove let out a heavy sigh as she watched Carol approach her laundry station out of the corner of her eye. She stood up a little straighter and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I wanna go with you and Rick. Try to bring back Merle. I figure the more people, the better. Plus, y’all might need someone to balance out all the testosterone in that car.”

Daryl stared at her again for a few seconds before scoffing at her. “Don’t need no one else out there, especially not you. Can you even shoot a gun?”

Dove grinded her teeth together as she nodded her head slowly. “Well, excuse me. I may not know how to shoot a gun but I am just as capable as Andrea and Jacqui and they go out into the city all the time! Give me a blunt object and I can take out any walker just as good as a gun, I bet.” Her hands were shaking as she unfolded her arms and shoved her hands in her pockets.

“Alright.” Daryl turned his attention from her.

Dove’s jaw almost dropped in shock as she stood still. “Excuse me?”

Daryl turned back to face her, eyes narrowed slightly. “You heard me, girl. You’re grown, you wanna go? Can’t stop ya. Just don’t expect to get your ass saved.”

“Oh don’t worry, I won’t,” a serene smile was on Dove’s face now.

Shane would definitely have to learn to hold his tongue if they were going to bring Merle back as he called Merle a “douchebag”.

Daryl pointed at the man, “Hey, you better watch what you say!”

Shane nodded his head all sincerely before uttering, “No no. Douchebag’s what I meant.”

Dove rolled her eyes and brought the palms of her hands up to rub her eyes, “Dear god what did I do to deserve this.”

Lori spoke up from her seat by what would be that night’s fire. “So what? You and Daryl, that’s your big plan?”

Carol eyed Dove for a moment before the group’s attention shifted to Glenn. “Oh come on!”

Rick spoke, “You know the way. You’ve been there before. In and out, no problem! You said so yourself.” He was right. Glenn wasn’t shy about telling everyone in the group how well he knew the city and he had dug his own grace.

“That’s just great. Now you’re gonna risk three men?” Shane scoffed.

T-Dog spoke up next, “Four.”

Daryl scoffed, “My day just gets better and better, don’t it?”

Dove rolled her eyes, “Might as well get this out of the way now and make it five.”

Dale glanced between them all and nodded his head. “That’s five.”

Shane shook his head and began to pace a little bit. “You’re putting every single one of us at risk. Just know that, Rick. C’mon. You saw that walker! It was here. It was in camp,” Shane lectured. “They come back, we need every able body we’ve got. We need em to protect camp.”

Rick nodded his head, “Sounds to me like what you need is more guns.”

Dove’s head was spinning. Sophia shuffled her feet as Dove walked over to them. She knelt in front of the girl, taking her hands in her as the others talked about the guns. “Now you listen to me, alright? I’m gonna be just fine! I promise. I always am. But I need you to promise me something too okay?”

Sophia nodded her head and listened intently. “I need you to look out for your mama until I get back, okay? Just make sure everything’s alright. Hold down the fort for me. Promise?” She released Sophia’s hands and held a pinky out to her.

Sophia locked her pinky with her aunt’s before she wrapped her arms around her neck in a hug. “Be safe.”

Dove kissed her niece on the forehead before standing up and brushing off her knees. “Be safe, Carol.” Dove hugged her sister tightly before she turned to see what was going on.

Dove lifted herself into the back of the van, her eyes were beginning to glaze over from boredom as she waited before she almost leapt out of her skin at the sound of a horn honking. From the driver’s seat, Glenn let out a startled shout as Daryl stepped on the horn again. “C’mon let’s go!”

Dove rubbed her temples and muttered to herself before placing a hand on the crowbar that she’d managed to sweet talk out of Jim. She would definitely have to make sure that she made it back now.

The young woman blew a kiss to her family as the door to the back of the van was slammed shut and they pulled away.

~

It was oddly silent on the way to the city. Dove positioned herself so she could see out the front windshield. “This is the first time I’ve left camp in the past two months.” She whispered to Glenn and Rick.

Rick turned his head, a sympathetic look on his face. “You might not want to look until we get there, then. Might be a bit of a shock. Trust me on that one.”

Dove took in the man’s words for a moment before she turned and faced the back of the van again.

Daryl finally spoke up for the first time since they started on the road. “He best be alright.”

T-Dog sighed. “The only thing that’s getting through that door is us. He’s fine.”

The van finally lurched to a stop and Glenn called back, “We walk from here.”

Dove groaned as she pulled herself to her feet and hopped out of the back of the van. “Oh shit, I’m getting old.” She mumbled to T-Dog as he hopped down next to her.

T-Dog shook his head at her. “You’re getting old? Just wait ‘til you hit 30.”

Dove laughed quietly as she took off down the train tracks after the rest of the group.

Rick paused as they stepped through a space in the gate that led from the tracks to the road. “Merle first or guns?”

Daryl snapped. “Merle! We ain’t even havin this conversation.”

Dove shook her head and motioned towards Daryl with her free hand, the other still tightly gripping the crowbar. “I’m with him on this. I mean a human life or ammo?”

Rick stared at both of them, clearly trying to keep his cool “We are having this conversation. You know the geography, it’s your call.” He turned to Glenn as the group began to walk.

“Merle’s closest. The guns would mean doubling back.” Glenn stated and Dove wasn’t sure if he was lying or not, but she was grateful for that nonetheless.

Her hazel eyes seemed to take in everything that had happened to Atlanta as they walked through the city. The city she had worked in and know so well was practically gone in a matter of weeks. It made her chest feel tight to see everything, but she knew she couldn’t stop moving.

She stepped lightly into the department store behind T-Dog and in front of Glenn as she went. She stopped, crowbar raised as a walker made it’s way through the aisles of the store. Daryl didn’t waste any time shooting the thing through the head.

Glenn moved forward and directed them to a staircase. It was a lot farther up than it looked, or maybe she was out of shape, but the steps were seeming to take their toll on her as they worked their way towards the roof.

The men reached the last landing as Dove rounded the corner just a few steps behind them. She took the last few steps slowly as she watched Daryl kick the door open after the chain was finally cut.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. She observed as she ran up the last few steps out onto the roof with the others. Merles Dixon was not a quiet man and he surely would’ve reacted to a door being kicked the fuck open.

Daryl’s screams for his brother turned into screams of panic. Dove’s heart dropped as she stepped out onto the roof behind Glenn and she saw it. A hand flew up to cover her mouth as she fought back the urge to vomit. Merle’s hand laid there on the ground next to a bloody hacksaw but Merle Dixon the man was gone.

-

@crossbowking​

[cherriontop]

Ghostly

Peter wakes up cold. 

There’s sirens in the distance, and if he focuses hard enough, he can hear the murmuring of voices nearby. Peter groans, his eyes cracking open slowly, blinking at the hazy light filling the room. He’s on the ground, and he barely manages to lift his head in time to see his front door swing open and two police officers barge into the room. 

Thank god, Peter thinks, head throbbing. He can’t really remember what’s happened to him, but he feels as though he’s just woken up from a thousand year nap. 

“Barnes, you mark the perimeter with tape. Banner, you get the camera, and for the love of god, someone get an ETA on Stark!” The man in front barks to the other officers entering the room. Cameras? Peter groans again, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“H-Help,” he pleads, blindly reaching a hand up. It feels like concrete, and it dangles in the air for a moment before Peter realizes the cops aren’t coming over to help him. “I can’t- I don’t-” he breathes out, trying to lift his head again. “What happened to me?” 

If the main cop, the one giving orders, has heard him, he shows no sign of it. He stops at Peter’s feet, looking down at him while shaking his head. “Barton!” He calls. A blonde cop scrambles over to them, nearly tripping over Peter’s feet. “Tell the ambulance to shut the hell up, they’re not taking this victim anywhere.” 

“Wha-”

“Yes, Fury, sir,” Barton nods, rushing off, leaving Peter laying helplessly on the ground. The cop--Fury--squats down next to Peter with a puzzled look on his face. Peter watches him, panic welling in his throat. Why is no one helping him? Why are they just leaving him there to suffer? 

“Please, sir,” Peter tries again, tears welling in his eyes. “What’s happening? What’s wrong with me?” 

Fury doesn’t answer, so Peter tries to get up, supporting himself with his elbows. The cop is still watching where Peter was laying down, and slowly, Peter turns to look, too. His stomach rolls, and he nearly vomits at the sight. It’s Peter himself still laying on the ground, sprawled carelessly with a gun in his left hand and a pool of blood around his head. 

“Oh my god!” Peter cries, jumping to his feet. His heart thunders in his chest, watching his own dead body. “What? But- No- It can’t-” he sputtered, trembling in shock. He’s staring at himself, dead. But how? He raises his shaky hands, eyes widening in surprise when he sees the hazy blue glow around himself. 

The next few minutes pass in a blur. The ambulance goes silent outside, and then there’s the snapping of pictures all around him. Peter watches in a trance up until a body bag is brought out. 

“No, wait!” He cries, trying to reach out and grab Barton by the arm, only for his hand to go right through. He gasps, jumping back like he’d been burned. Barton carries on, undisturbed. 

“Y’know, I never will understand what drives people to kill themselves like this,” Barton murmurs, a twinge of sadness wrapped in his words. Peter feels sick, watching the cops bag his body. “I guess the poor guy had nothing to live for.” 

“No, that’s not-” Peter chokes up, the tears bubbling behind his eyes. “That’s not true! I didn’t do it!” He has so much to live for. He’d just graduated college, top of his class, and had plans to move in with his best friend, Ned. Aunt May had plans to come pick up him and take him home within two days. He had a job lined up with Orscorp and everything. Peter would never do anything like this. 

Outside, there’s a squeal of tires, and Fury rolls his eyes. “Must be Stark. Late as usual,” he snips, zipping the body bag. 

“Please,” Peter whispers, voice soft and weak, watching the cops take his body away. He reaches out to touch, but his hand comes into contact with nothing. He’s nothing but a ghost. A ghost no one can see or hear. 

He follows the cops numbly out of the house, eyes on his body bag. His attention is only pulled away when Fury gives a call of Stark’s name, and the car in the driveway honks. The passenger side door opens, and an attractive man steps out, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Fury!” he calls, taking his sunglasses off with no regard to how dark the middle of the night was. “Don’t you know not to interrupt a man’s beauty sleep?” 

Fury gives another roll of his eyes, shaking his head. “You missed all the action, Stark. It’s a simple suicide. The kid blew his brains out. He was home alone, no sign of forced entry, no witnesses. You’re going to be doing the paperwork for this one, I swear to god-” 

“No witnesses?” Stark repeated, forehead scrunching. His eyes dart back over in Peter’s direction, where the body bag still rests. 

“No witnesses,” Fury repeats. “You know I hate repeating myself. So, please, if you must reek havoc by coming late, you could at least listen to-” 

“Then who’s that?” Stark interrupts, gesturing towards Peter’s direction with his sunglasses. Fury turns to look, and Peter, too, glances around, but there’s no one around. 

“Haha, funny, Stark. You should be a comedian. You know the victim’s dead body doesn’t count as a witness.” “No, Fury, I’m serious. The kid right there, next to the body bag!” 

Peter’s heart jumps to his throat, and his body jolts in shock. He does another glance around just to make sure there’s no other kids standing next to their own dead body, but he’s alone. Stark sees him. Stark can see him. He turns back to the man with a desperate, wild look in his eyes, and speaks only two words. 

“Help me.”

[kayteewritessteve]

Locked Out

Description: A much needed trip to the laundry room takes a turn for the worse when you realize you’ve locked yourself out of your apartment. The next move you make doesn’t play out quite like you’d hoped and ends up turning south, and fast. But, your luck starts to change when a neighbour finds you in a rather compromising position and offers his help.

Masterlist HERE.

Word Count: 9,280 ish.

Pairing: Modern!Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: G - mainly floof.

Warnings: Curse words. Poor life choices, don’t try this at home. Slight description of high heights and the fear that goes along with that.

Requested: Nah, this just popped into my head and so I wrote it lol

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader either, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

You slowly walked down the hall towards your apartment door. One hand holding your laundry basket as it rested on your hip, the other hand trying to locate your damn keys. You finally reached the door and dropped the basket to the floor with a thud, your folded clothes bouncing up upon impact. As you stood in front of the door, patting down your body, searching for the noticeable bulge of your keys. However, you quickly realized that they weren’t on you, as all you were wearing currently was an old pair of pj shorts and a t-shirt, neither of which even had pockets. Got to love laundry day attire. You glanced down at your laundry basket, giving it a good look over, but again, no keys there. You reached out and tried the door knob, giving it a few hopeful jiggles, but alas it was, in fact, locked. Shit.

You stood there looking around, trying to remember when you’d last seen your keys. Realizing instantly that you didn’t remember grabbing them off your counter when you’d headed down to the laundry room.

Now normally you’d have needed your keys to get into the laundry facility, but a week ago your building manager had switched the laundry room door to a key fob entry system, for better security, and you being the oh so smart cookie you were, had put the key fob on it’s very own lanyard. That way if you ever lost your keys, you wouldn’t have to pay the ridiculous replacement cost of the fob.

So now, here you were with your clean laundry and your expensive ass key fob, buuuuut no apartment keys. How’d you lock your door without your keys, you ask? Oh, well, let me explain that for you. You see, you have this fancy door knob, one that you could lock while open and then close the door behind you and it would stay locked. So cool, right?! No need to waste precious time putting the key in and locking it like any other normal schmuck. However, it made locking yourself out of your place, faaaar to easy. As you were currently realizing. So, you still ended up being the schmuck in the end. Just a fancy schmuck. Figures, this was just your luck. One of the few times you actually got a night off from your gruelling nursing job, and here you were, locked out of your damn place. You sighed and dropped your head back in frustration. Just staring up at the hallways ceiling and trying to come up with some sort of plan as to how, exactly, you were going to get into your locked apartment.

Then an idea crossed your mind, you’d left your bedroom window open and if you were super careful, and lucky, you’d maybe be able to climb in through it, as it was just off the fire escape. It was honestly a dumb idea, but it was the only one you had as there would be no managers around till the morning. And as it was 9pm, that was still quite a few hours away. And even if you called them, no one would show up for hours. You left your laundry basket sitting in front of your door, it was a pretty secure building, so only neighbours would be in the hallways, and you hoped none of your neighbours would stoop so low as to steal your clothes. But you’d just have to make this quick, just in case.

You quickly made your way to the stairwell and basically ran down the stairs. Your apartment was located on the 3rd floor and being that this was Brooklyn, it had a few fire exits around the outside. As most apartment buildings in this area did. And luckily for you, one of those fire exits just happened to be right where your apartment was. You pushed open the buildings front door and ventured around to the side, then halted to glance up at the fire escape, and attempted to steel your nerves. To say you weren’t a fan of heights was a bit of an understatement. You hated heights, feared them even. But this was currently your only option. So you surveyed the area then attempted to reach the pull down ladder, which—wasn’t going so well.

You peered around and noticed a metal garbage can down the alley a bit, then went to grab it. Chances are it wouldn’t hold your weight for very long and you’d probably end up having to replace the garbage can if you broke it. But you’d leave that for future-you to deal with. Present-you, just wanted in that damn apartment! You dragged it over, trying not to be too loud, the last thing you needed was someone calling the cops thinking you were a bugler or something. God, that would just make this whole experience so much more enjoyable. Not.

You lined the garbage can up with the pull down ladder then climbed on top, quickly grabbing the lowest crosspiece and pulling it down with all your might. It made an ungodly loud, metal on metal screeching sound but did pull down fully. You then slowly and quietly began to climb up, making it to the first landing and pulling the ladder back up into its original resting place, then you continued up from there. Taking massive effort to keep your steps light and quiet, which was a hefty task in and of itself, as the metal fire escape seemed hell bent on informing all your neighbours of your every move. You finally reached the third floor landing, which sat directly in front of your living room windows, so of course because of that exact reason, all those windows were locked tight. You stood at the edge of the railing, trying to figure out your next plan of action.

Your bedroom window was open slightly, showing that it was in fact unlocked as you’d remembered. But it was also about 2 feet away from the edge of the fire escape. And even though that doesn’t seem like that large of a distance normally, the fact there was a 3 storey height on that 2 feet gap, made it seem much, much more daunting. As if that 2 feet was all of a sudden a mile wide, and instantly all your courage left you. So you just stood there, attempting to get back your ‘give er hell’ energy from before, but that wasn’t proving to be a simple thing at the moment. You weren’t sure just how long you stood there, trying to either talk yourself into this, or out of it. Part of you saying to stop being such a baby and just do it already. While the other part adamantly shook it’s head and reminded you that if you slipped, it wouldn’t end well for you. At all.

“Fuck it.” You mumbled then swung your leg over the railing, promptly halting as soon as you were straddling it. This is a horrible fucking idea… You think I don’t know that? You’re gunna fall. Just shut up and let me do this! You slowly pulled your other leg over the railing, now standing on the opposite side of it. You know, the side you aren’t supposed to stand on, yeah, that side. Then with one hand that had an iron grip on the railing you slowly reached out with the other to push the window all the way up.

Once it was up and you were sure it wasn’t going to slam back down, you slowly turned yourself away from the railing, to face the window and then reached out with one hand again. You grabbed ahold of the windows edge then carefully release the railing with your other hand and grabbed the window frame. So now, your feet were still on the fire escape, and both hands were holding on to the window frame.

You slowly leaned forwards, then with another deep breath and a silent prayer to whichever God was currently listening, you pushed yourself towards the window and managed to pull your upper body in, with your legs dangling out, 3 storeys above street level. It was all going perfectly to plan, that is, until the window was jarred free, most likely due to your less then gentle dive into the window, and plummeted down towards you. It slammed into your mid back, which fucking hurt and you nearly screamed from both the shock and pain of it. But luckily you’d managed to muffle the sound just in time with your hand. Making it a low throaty yelp instead. You gave yourself a moment to breathe, and for your heart rate to drop back down to normal. Then you attempted to reach back with one hand to push the window back up, quickly realizing it was stuck. The impact with your back must have jarred it off its track slightly, so now it was pinned in place, which meant you were also now pinned in place. One half of you in your bedroom, the other half dangling 30 ish feet in the air. Great. Just fucking great. What the hell do you do now—

“Ah, whatcha doing over there?” A deep voice startled you, causing you to yelp again and then on instinct you went to look at where the voice had come from, quickly realizing you couldn’t see through fucking walls.

“I seem to be a little stuck.” You said loudly so he’d be able to hear you.

“I can see that,” he said and you could hear the amusement in his voice. He was clearly trying not to laugh at you. “But, ah, can I ask why you’re trying to break into my neighbours place?”

“Well you see, I um, I live here. This is my place, I’m um, your neighbour,” you paused, realizing that didn’t sound convincing, at all, “I locked my keys in my apartment.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” He asked, but it didn’t sound suspicious, it honestly sounded like he was messing with you. But you’d never actually talked to him before. You’d just always figured you worked separate hours, as you’d hear him in his unit every once and awhile, but you’d never actually seen him in the halls. And you’d lived in this apartment for going on 6 months now.

“Shit, ah, my name’s Y/N, and I’ve lived here for 6 months.” You said, trying to think of anything that would prove you actually lived here. Then a thought popped into your mind, “Oh! My laundry!”

“Your laundry?” He asked, confused.

“Yes, it’s in the hallway! I was coming up from doing my laundry and realized I locked myself out! You can go check, it’s in the hallway!” You paused, then added quietly, “hopefully it’s still in the hallway.”

He chuckled, “Don’t worry, I believe you. Can you get the window back up?”

You attempted to try one more time to push it up, but it wouldn’t budge, “No, it seems to be stuck.”

“Okay, hang tight.” He said, and the words grow quieter as he spoke, you assumed he was walking away from his window.

You couldn’t help but laugh, sardonically and mumble, “what else am I supposed to do.”

“Right,” his deep voice startled you again, “sorry, poor choice in words there.”

“It’s fine.”

But this time you didn’t get a response, and everything went quiet again. “Hello?” You paused, “Are you still there?” Another pause, “I’ll take that as a no.”

You weren’t exactly sure what he was going to do, you just prayed it was something that would get you out of this damn window. And fast. Maybe he’d call the manager, and say it was an emergency. Hopefully that would get a faster response time as you weren’t exactly comfy wedged between the window and its sill. And your legs were starting to ache from just dangling there.

A few minutes went by and you were starting to panic now. Would you be stuck here all night? Was he ever going to come back? Calling the manager couldn’t have taken this long. Fuck. Look what you’d gotten yourself into. Having to rely on a complete stranger to basically save your stupid ass. You should have just called Wanda and asked if you could stay the night, and dealt with all of this in the morning. You know, when the manager was in her office!

You heard the ungodly loud metal on metal screech of the fire escape ladder, and then heavy footsteps quickly ascending the stairs, until finally they stopped at the railings edge near you. “Alright, I’m going to get you out of there, but I need you to trust me, okay?” He asked.

You nodded, then realized he couldn’t see it, “yeah, o-okay.” You stuttered, not sure what his game plan here was, but if it backfired, you’d have a very long fall ahead. So you were terrified, to say the least.

“I’m going to try to push the window up now, so you can finish climbing in.”

“Okay.”

You then felt the window move slightly, but that was about all it did. “Wow, it’s really in there.” He grunted. And you could feel him tugging on the window, but it refused to budge. “Okay, ah, that’s not going anywhere. It’s really jammed, and honestly might need someone to come fix it. But I won’t be able to get it any further up from this angle, so I am going to help you back out of the window.”

“What!?” You exclaimed, “that ah, that doesn’t seem like a very good idea.”

“Well it’s either I help you out of the window, or you just continue to dangle there.”

“Shit,” you mumbled, he had a point there, “so ah, what’s your plan then?”

“I’m going to help you get back over to the fire escape.”

“And how exactly are you going to do that?” You were genuinely curious, but also freaked the fuck out.

“You said you trusted me, right?”

“I’m probably going to regret this, but yes, I trust you,” you paused, “but just so you know, if you drop me, I will haunt you for the rest of your life. So, just, keep that in mind.”

You heard him chuckle quietly, “I won’t drop you, I promise.”

You heard some shuffling noises and a few weird clanks and clicks, and figured he was just getting himself into position, “alright, I’m going to touch you now, is that okay?”

“Ah, yup. Yes.” Wow, smooth.

Then you felt a large hand skim your lower back, then your side closest to him, before something was tightened around your waist. It felt thick, like a strap of some kind. Then you heard a metal click. “Okay, I put a harness around your waist and attached it to the fire escape. So if you do slip, you will only fall about 5 feet.”

“That’s comforting.” You mumbled.

“Hey, it’s better than 30 feet.” He chuckled again.

“You do have a point there.”

“Now, I’m going to grab on to your waist,” he said, and you felt his arm wrap around you, “is this still okay?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, now very slowly, I need you to wiggle yourself out of the window. Can you do that for me?”

“Ah, yup.” You said then took a deep breath and slowly started to push yourself back out the window, feeling his arm tighten around you as you did.

“Perfect, you’re doing great, Y/N,” he praised you, sweetly, “just a little further. You got this.”

Just before you got the last bit of your upper body out the window he spoke up again, “Okay, that’s good.” You stopped moving instantly. “This next part is going to happen fast, I’m going to pull you out and bring you over to the fire exit, so be ready to grab it, okay?”

“Okay.” And as the words left your mouth you felt him pull you the rest of the way out of the window and then all of a sudden you were grabbing onto the fire exit. He released your waist and then effortlessly hopped back over to the proper side, unhooking his harness and then helping you back over.

Once your feet hit the landing you almost collapsed, your legs felt like mush and all you wanted to do was fall to your knees and kiss the metal ground. But you refrained. For now. You felt his arm wrap around you again, but this time around your upper back, “woah there, you okay?”

You nodded, “yup, my legs are just a little asleep.”

“Okay, hold on.” He said as he quickly unhooked the harness from around your waist then helped you sit down on the top step, “here, sit for a few while your legs wake up.”

“Good idea.” You nodded slowly, and he chuckled again. You turned to peer up at him, taking a moment to just admire your savior. You obviously couldn’t have seen him before, but now that you could you damn near blushed at how handsome he was. He was tall, you guessed around 6’3”-6’4”. Very well built, you could tell, as the almost too tight black t-shirt he was currently wearing wasn’t hiding a damn thing. And he was blonde. You always had a thing for blondes. As your eyes gave him another once over you saw him unhooking the clips from the railing and rolling up the harnesses. “So you just keep harnesses on hand?”

He looked down at you, and you could just barely make out that his eyes were a dark colour, maybe blue? And then he smiled and shook his head, “no, I use them at work, I just happened to have a couple laying around.”

“Oh? What do you do for work?” You paused, “if you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

“No, it’s fine.” He smirked, “I’m actually a firefighter.”

“You don’t say.” You said slowly, then laughed, “it all makes so much more sense now.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” He wondered.

“You were really good at this,” you gestured to your bedroom window, “you really seemed to know what you were doing. I don’t even know you and I trusted you.” You shrugged.

“Well I’m glad you did. And ah,” he stuck his hand out to you, “I’m Steve, by the way.”

You shook his hand, “Y/N. But you already knew that.”

He nodded, “I did. But it’s nice to meet you Y/N.”

“Oh shoot,” you smacked a hand to your forehead, “I totally forgot to thank you for saving me! So, ah, thank you, so so much! Seriously, I’d still be dangling there if it wasn’t for you.”

“No worries at all,” he smiled, “I couldn’t exactly just leave you hanging there.” He shrugged, then nodded his head towards your lower half, “how are your legs feeling?”

You turned to look at your feet and wiggled them, then looked back up at him, “better, I think they’re all good now.”

“Good, then let’s get you off this fire escape and back on solid ground.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea.” You said as you slowly went to stand, feeling Steve gently grip your elbow to help balance you. Just incase your legs weren’t fully back yet.

After a moment of you standing, he released your arm but kept his hand close to it for another moment, clearly gauging if you were okay on your own. He obviously deemed you stable as he dropped his hand back to his side, “I’ll go first, just in case you slip.” He said and then started to head down the stairs. You following closely behind.

When you reached the lowest landing, he dropped the rolled up harnesses to the ground and then skillfully descended the ladder. Clearly, given his day job, he was a pro at this. You, not so much. You had almost made it the whole way down without looking like a fool, but that didn’t last long. Just as you went to put your foot on the final crossmember, you overestimated it and missed it entirely. Sending you plummeting to the ground with a yelp. You braced for impact—but it never came. You slowly opened your eyes, not exactly sure when you’d closed them and came face to face with Steve. And yup, his eyes were in fact blue. Neat. “It’s okay. I got cha.” He said softly.

You just nodded, and waited for him to put you down. Which—didn’t happen right away. “Ah, Steve?”

“Hmm?” He hummed, as if he was completely out of it.

“Are you gunna put me down?” You asked quietly, and wiggled your feet that were dangling, once again, except this time only inches above the ground. Instead of storeys.

“Shit, right.” He chuckled awkwardly, then placed you back on your feet gently and took a step back from you, his eyes shifted to the ground as he rubbed the back of his neck, “sorry about that.”

“You prevented me from hitting the ground, no need to apologize for that.” You said as you waved it off, “and ah, thanks, again, you know, for saving me.” You paused, “again.” You cringed. Okay. Your awkward had now reached a whole new level. Damnit.

“No worries,” he looked up at you and smirked, “Again.”

“Well, I’m gunna go back in now,” you gestured over your shoulder with your thumb, as you took a step backwards, “I’ll ah, see you around though.” you waved, awkwardly, because let’s be honest, this is just who you are now. ‘Awkward Y/N’. That’s your new self appointed nickname. You’d just decided this right now.

All he did was nod his head, as the smile on his face grew huge. You almost swooned but then quickly spun on your heel and hightailed it out of the alley. You reached the front door—and instantly remembered you didn’t have any fucking keys. Damnit! You groaned and dropped your head back, and then heard a now familiar chuckle from behind you. You spun around to see Steve walking up to you, “Figured you wouldn’t be able to get in without keys.” He jiggled his for effect.

“Shit,” you mumbled, “yeah, that would probably help.”

He unlocked the door then pushed it open for you, gesturing for you to enter, “after you.”

You pursed your lips together then nodded and walked through the door, whispering a “thanks” as you did. You both climbed the stairs to the third floor, Steve ahead of you, and you might have checked his ass out. But if anyone ever asked you, you’d plead the fifth. You didn’t condone being a creep, but, my god, you sure could tell he climbed ladders all day. He had a glorious butt, not that you were lookin—Fuck. Who are you kidding. You couldn’t even lie. You’d basically stared at it the whole way up. God. You were such a creep.

He pushed through the door to your floor and then you both walked quietly down the hall, as you rounded the corner you noticed the hallway was …empty. Fuck! The hallway is empty! You halted your steps and groaned, “Well that’s just great.” You mumbled as you gestured to your door. Where your laundry hamper wasn’t sitting anymore. Who steals someone else’s laundry!? So freaking rude!

Your head whipped around at the sound of Steve chuckling again, you narrowed your eyes at him. Because honestly, who laughs at someone else’s misfortune.

He quickly wiped the smile off his lips the second he saw the look on your face, then cleared his throat, “I ah, I put your laundry in my place, so it wouldn’t go missing.”

Aaaaand you’re totally an asshole. Way to go. “You did?” You asked quietly.

“Yeah, figured I could just give it back to you once you were out of your window.” He shrugged, then gestured for you to follow him.

“That was really sweet of you,” you murmured, mostly to yourself.

He unlocked his door and then pushed it open and walked inside, the door slowly closing on it’s own after him. Leaving you awkwardly standing there, in the hallway. You weren’t sure if he’d wanted you to follow him or if he’d even be okay with you in his place, so you figured it was smarter to just wait for him to return with your basket. You glanced around the hallway just as the door swung open, startling you. You snapped your eyes towards it and saw he was now standing on the other side, giving you a quizzical look. His hand high on the door’s edge, “You didn’t have to stay in the hallway, ya know?”

“Oh, sorry, I just wasn’t—“ you stopped mid sentence as he stepped back and opened the door more.

“You’re more than welcome to come in,” he gestured for you to enter, “if you’d like, that is. You can call the manager about getting into your place.”

You nodded, “ah, okay. Thanks.” You said as you walked into his place, instantly noticing your laundry basket on the floor near the living room. You looked around and saw that his suites layout was a mirror of yours. His furnishings were mismatched, but not in a cheap way. They all went really well together, as if every piece had been hand picked to tie a different piece into the room. There were personal touches everywhere, photos on the wall of various friends or family. Little trinkets, books and photo frames on a free standing shelf up against the far wall, in between the two large living room windows. A couch and chair, mismatched but yet, matching. With a simple wood coffee table, and a tv on it’s stand along the left wall, that separated the master bedroom and living room. There was a few plants scattered throughout and a lamp in a corner. All and all, it wasn’t what you were expecting at all. At least not from a bachelor—he was a bachelor, right? “Ah, your place is really nice.” You offered lamely, “did you decorate it yourself?” God, you really are so awkward. Who asks that?! Hopefully he wouldn’t notice that, that was your weird way of finding out if he was single or not. Or at least if he lived with anyone.

His chuckle led you to believe he’d read between the lines and knew exactly what you were asking, “Yeah, I did. Well, myself and my roommate.”

“Oh, you have a roommate?” You turned to look at him momentarily then glanced around, half expecting someone to appear out of thin air now.

He nodded, “Yeah, he’s at work currently.” He said as he moved towards the kitchen, “do you want anything? A drink or?”

You shook your head, “no, thank you though, I’ll just call the manager and then get out of your hair.”

“Okay,” he said then gestured to the entry table, “phones on the table, I believe the manager’s numbers are on the notepad beside it.”

“Perfect,” you wandered over to the table and glanced at the notepad, scanning for the late night number you’d need. You found it then pick the phone up and dialled. As it rang you glanced over your shoulder to look at Steve, while he poured himself a drink. Before you could stare to long at him a groggy voice spoke. “Hello, this is Susan.”

You quickly turned back towards the wall, “ah, hi, Susan. This is Y/N, from 3C.”

“What can I do for you Y/N?” She asked groggily, but sweetly.

“I seem to have locked my keys in my apartment. Is there any way someone can come let me back in?”

“Ah,” she paused and you heard some shuffling noises, “I can call maintenance, but I’m not sure how long they will take, not until I speak to them. Are you at the building now?”

“Um, yeah, I am.” You nodded then glanced back at Steve, who was watching you intently, you looked back towards the wall, “I’m just at a neighbours currently.”

“Okay, I’ll give them a call and then I’ll call you back, is this a good number to reach you at again?”

“Yes, yeah. This one works.”

“Alright, talk to you shortly.”

“Perfect, thank you Susan.” You said then hung the phone up and turned to Steve, “she is calling maintenance to see what they can do, said she’d call back shortly.”

He nodded then headed into the living room, he placed his drink on the coffee table and then plopped down on the couch. You hesitantly followed and sat down in the chair, “I hope you don’t mind me waiting here.”

He leaned forward to grab the remote off the coffee table, “not at all. Hopefully they can get you back in your apartment soon.” He said, not unkindly though. Maintenance had a reputation for taking hours to show up for anything, so you figured he knew that, and hoped you wouldn’t be locked out all night.

“Yeah, fingers crossed.” You replied as you settled into a somewhat comfortable silence, both just staring at the tv, watching some random cooking show. Chopped, or something like that. You weren’t to sure.

“Are you okay if I change it?” He asked out of the blue and it took you a moment to comprehend what he was asking.

“Oh, yeah. No, uh, please, feel free.”

“Bucky loves these cooking shows, I just have never been able to get into them.” He shrugged and brought up the channel menu.

“I’m guessing Bucky is your roommate?”

“Yeah, been best friends since we were kids.”

You were just about to reply and then the phone rang, you glanced at Steve to check if he wanted to get it or not. He gestured that it was okay for you to answer it and you sprung up and quickly made your way to the phone. Picking it up and saying, “hello.”

There was a pause and then a voice that definitely didn’t belong to Susan spoke up, “hello? ah…” you heard some muffled sounds, that resembled the caller pulling the phone away from their ear, and then heard a mumbled “did I call the wrong number again?” Which you figured wasn’t directed at you as it sounded a little to far away from the mic. You quickly looked at Steve, who saw the nervous look on your face and was just getting up off the couch to come save you from whoever was on the phone. Then another soft but confused, “nope, that’s our number.” Before the voice grew louder, like he’d put it back to his ear now. “Ah, who is this?” He asked.

“Oh, um, Y/N,” you said quickly, “I live ah, next door, in 3C.”

“Okay, Y/N from 3C,” he chuckled, “why are you answering my house phone?” He asked but you could hear the amusement in his voice, “is Steve there?”

“I was waiting for the manager to call back, and um, yeah,” you glanced at Steve who was now standing beside you, “he’s right here,” you passed him the phone and mouthed, “Bucky, I think.”

He chuckled and nodded as he took the phone, “What’s up, Buck?”

You moved back towards the living room, not wanting to intrude on their convo, but you could still hear it clearly, as you were only about 7 feet from Steve.

“Not even close,” he whispered quickly, then turned to face away from you, “Nothing, just waiting for—” he was clearly cut off, “no, I wont pass the phone to—“ cut off yet again, “it’s not like that and you know it,” there was a pause, “oh please, you’re one to talk,” another pause, followed by a deep sigh, “can we please talk about this later?” Another pause, “fine, fine. Whatever. So what do you want, jerk?”

It took everything in you not to burst out laughing at the one side of the conversation you were currently hearing. You instantly figured Bucky was a little shit, in all the best ways. And Steve was obviously more reserved. They were probably like yin and yang, and you’d have killed to be a fly on the wall for an in person convo between them. It was probably hysterical. To say the least. “Fine, yeah, see you later.” He finally said then hung the phone up, you only knew that because you heard the sound of it being placed back on the receiver. You’d stayed facing away from him after he’d turned around. “Sorry about that,” he offered lamely from behind you and you peered over your shoulder at him.

“No worries at all,” you waved off his apology, “hopefully I didn’t create to many,” you paused to think of the right word, “problems. For you.”

“Ah, no. None at all. Bucky is just,” he sighed deeply, “being Bucky.”

You nodded, “ah, gotcha.” then turned back to the tv, as you couldn’t look at him and not grin like an idiot over what you’d heard. Granted, you’d only heard half the convo, but you knew it was entirely about you. It didn’t take a rocket doctor to figure that one out.

The phone rang again, and this time Steve answered it. But probably not just because he was closest to it. You guessed he was worried it be his roommate again, calling back in the hopes you’d once again answer it and he could interrogate you further. “Hello?” He said, “yup, she’s right here.”

You stood up to go take the phone from him but halted when you saw a frown slowly form on his face as his eyebrows pinched together, “ah, okay, and that’s the best they can do?” A pause, then he slowly nodded, “not really ideal, but I guess there really isn’t much we can do about it.”

Now you frowned as well. That was not sounding good. At all.

“Ah, right. Okay, thanks Susan. Yeah, I’ll tell her.” He said a quick goodbye then hung up the phone.

“That didn’t sound good?” You hesitantly said.

He rubbed the back of his neck and his eyes drifted to the ground again, “yeah, no, it wasn’t really. As I’m sure we both suspected, maintenance said they couldn’t be here till the morning, and by that point Susan will be in her office. So she sends her apologies, but you won’t be getting back into your suite tonight.”

“Well shit,” you groaned and dropped your head back, mumbling “That fucking sucks.” Now what!?

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” he said softly and you quickly looked at him.

“Not your fault at all. I’m the idiot who locked my keys in my apartment.” You sighed, “would you mind if I used your phone one more time? I just want to call my friend and see if I could crash at her place tonight.”

“Ah, yeah, of course.” He paused, “this might be a little forward, but you are welcome to stay here, if you’d like.”

“Oh, I couldn’t ask that of you.” You shook your head, “You’ve already done way too much for me.”

“Honestly, it’s totally fine. You can have my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.” He paused, “it has a lock on the door, and I can change the sheets.”

“You have a lock on your door?” You asked skeptically.

“Yeah, I uh, don’t always trust the,” he hesitated for a second, “people, Bucky brings over. I’ve had a few things go missing in the past. So now I lock up when I’m not going to be home for the night.” He shrugged.

“Oh, that makes sense.” You nod, “but I couldn’t force you to sleep on the couch, I can take it. That way you can have your bed.”

He chuckled, “Trust me, you won’t want to be on the couch when,” he glances up at the clock on the wall, “Buck gets home in 3 hours. He isn’t exactly quiet.”

“Oh, yeah. No. I guess I don’t really want that.” You laugh. “But won’t he wake you up?”

“No, I’m used to his noise levels. I’ve passed out on the couch a few times before and he hasn’t managed to wake me up yet.”

“Okay,” you sigh, “if you insist.”

He smiles, “I do, just give me a few to change the sheets over.”

You nod, “yeah, of course. And thank you, Steve. Seriously. You’re a lifesaver.”

“So I’ve been told. It sort of comes with the day job.” He laughs then walks into the master bedroom. Right, firefighter. You chuckle to yourself then patiently wait for him to return. Which luckily doesn’t take long, as he reemerges a few moments later with a small stack of blankets, sheets and a pillow, in his hands, plus a charging cord on top. “Okay, all set.” He said as he moved towards the couch.

“Thanks,” you smiled then moved towards the bedroom door, halting at the threshold, to turn back to him, “ah, goodnight, Steve. And thanks again, for everything.”

He smiled back at you, “goodnight, Y/N. see you in the morning.”

You nodded then shut the door, hesitating for a moment before deciding to leave it unlocked. Just in case he forgot something and needed in the room. You turned and then just took in his room, it was super clean and everything had a place. Which wasn’t really a surprise. Steve seemed like a well rounded, tidy guy. You were glad the roles weren’t reversed as you’d be ashamed if he saw the current state of your room. You weren’t a dirty person, by any means, but your room got a little out of hand sometimes. You just had so many clothes, most of which you never even wore, but just couldn’t part with. Your hamper was overflowing, and the accent chair in the corner was covered in clothes you’d tried on, but decided against and just hadn’t managed to hang back up. And your closet was, a nightmare, if you were being honest. You were always coming and going in such a rush between shifts, that your room sort of got the shit end of the stick when it came to cleaning. The rest of your home was damn near spotless, but that was because you hardly spent any time in it. And the odd time you did have friends over, you wanted it to look nice for them.

You walked quietly around the room, just looking at all the little touches. The artwork on the walls, the photos on the dresser, the books on the nightstand. Your hand reached out to move the top books to see the ones underneath. Noting that he had a great taste in literature, as your eyes landed on your favourite book that was hidden in the middle of the stack. You refused to open any drawers though, as that really wasn’t polite, so you just took in everything on the surface. Everything you could see without being a complete snoop.

After a few more minutes you pulled back the corner of the dark blue duvet, on his king sized bed, figuring a guy of his size would need a king size bed. You gingerly climbed in and pulled the covers back over you. You wiggled around, trying to find a comfy position, which didn’t take to long as the bed was honestly super comfortable. You were slightly jealous of his bed game. And once you were all settled in, you finally noticed the glorious smell coming from the pillows and blankets. You involuntarily took a large whiff, just basking in the glorious smell you could only describe as ‘clean man’. It smelt of clean laundry, and a delicious musky cologne.

You clearly hadn’t really had a chance to smell Steve, because that was a little creepy, but you figured he’d smell pretty damn similar to his bedding. To say the smell was comforting, was an understatement. It had been far too long since you’d laid in a bed that smelt of a man. Your job really didn’t allow for much in the way of relationships or boyfriends. You’d had one for about a year, but that ended 7 months ago when he couldn’t take your jobs hours anymore. He wasn’t mean or rude about it, he just sat you down one day and you both talked for hours, then amicably decided it would be best to end on good terms right then. Instead of waiting for things to turn sour. So you looked for your own place, and promptly moved into the apartment next door. You know, the one you currently couldn’t get in to. Your mind slowly began to cloud and before you knew it, you were fast asleep. Both from the exhaustion of all that had happened tonight, on top of the comforting smell of Steve’s sheets. Yeah, you didn’t stand a chance.

You woke to the light filtering in through the cream curtains, they managed to block most of the direct light, but gave the room a soft glow. Your ears instantly perked up at the sound of metal hitting the tiled floor, followed by a few muffled curse words. You sat up and rubbed the sleep from your eyes before flipping the duvet off and padding to the bedroom door. You opened it, glancing around but didn’t see anyone at first. That is, until you saw Steve stand up from his momentary hiding place behind the kitchen island. You made your way towards him, mumbling a soft, “morning,” as you did. Not wanting to startle him.

But clearly you’d failed on that endeavour, as he whipped around at the sound of your voice, metal mixing bowl in hand, with a shocked look on his face. One that he quickly corrected into a apologetic smile upon seeing you, “Morning.” He quickly said then added, “sorry, I hope I didn’t wake you.”

You took a seat on one of the barstools at the island counter and waved off his concern, “No, not at all. I woke up right before you dropped that,” you chuckled and gestured to the bowl in his hand.

“Okay,” he chuckled as well, “good. I um, I’m making pancakes, if you want some?”

“Pancakes sound wonderful.” You smiled and he nodded then turned around and rinsed out the bowl then began making breakfast, “so, any word from Susan?”

“She actually called about an hour ago,” he said over his shoulder, “I didn’t want to wake you up, so I hope you don’t mind, but I went and met her at your place, she let me in to grab your keys. Once I had them, I left and locked back up,” he pointed to the hallway table, “your keys are over there.”

You glanced at the table to see your keys sitting there then turned back to him, “I don’t mind at all, thank you so much for doing that.”

“No worries,” he glanced at you and smiled, “I’m just glad you can get back into your place again.”

“Me too,” you sighed contently, then give the apartment a once over, realizing someone was missing. “No Bucky?”

“No, he likes to sleep in after his shifts.” He chuckled fondly as he glanced at the clock on the oven, “we won’t see him for a few more hours.” ….’we’? You figured he hadn’t even noticed saying that, but just how easily the word fell from his lips made your heart flutter, just a little.

“What does he do for work?”

“Same as me.”

“Oh, so you’re both firefighters?”

“Yeah, we joined up at the same time.”

“That must be hard. Living and working with your best friend.” You said quietly, more a voiced thought then anything else.

“It has its challenges for sure,” he said as he placed a plate of pancakes and a bottle of syrup in front of you, “but he is like a brother to me. And we don’t always work the same shifts. So it isn’t too bad.” He shrugged then grabbed some utensils and placed the next to your plate. “Do you want any coffee?”

“Well that’s good then. And oh god, yes, I’d love some coffee.” You happily groaned.

He laughed as he grabbed a mug from a top cabinet and poured you a cup, “anything in it?”

“2 and 2 please.”

He nodded and quickly added them to the cup then stirred it and placed it in front of you, before making up a cup for himself and taking a sip. “So, what do you do for a day job?”

You quickly finished chewing the pancake in your mouth then took a quick sip of coffee to wash it down, “I’m an ER nurse.”

“Oh wow,” he said, slightly wide eyed, “that would explain why I’ve never seen you in the halls.”

“Yeah, I always just figured we worked different hours.” You shrugged.

“That must be an intense job?” he asked, but it wasn’t really a question, more just a informed guess.

“Probably no more intense than your own.” You laughed.

Before he could say a word in response you both heard the creak of a door opening followed by a grumbled, “there better be coffee.” You both turned to the source of the voice, seeing a groggy, still clearly half asleep Bucky walking out of his room.

“There is,” Steve replied, “your up earlier then normal.” He added, the words sounding less like an observation and more like a suspicious remark.

“Well, we have company,” Bucky glanced at you and gave a cheeky little grin, then shifted his gaze to Steve and shrugged, “would be rude of me to sleep through that.”

You side eyed Steve and saw the death glare he was currently giving Bucky, one he was clearly trying to hide from you. “Uh huh. Right.” He said, skeptically. Which only caused Buckys grin to widen as he moved into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. Steves eyes following him as he did, as if his friend was a ticking time bomb and if he didn’t keep a close eye on him, he’d go off and leave a bunch of chaos in his wake.

You had to hold back the giggles that wanted to escape at the interaction between the two guys. This moment instantly solidifying in your mind that Bucky was, in fact, the little shit you’d assumed he was. And you loved every second of it. You just sat there, happily munching your pancakes and sipping your coffee, just waiting to see what would happen next.

The talking might have died down, but that didn’t mean the conversation did. You noticed a few different pointed looks from Steve and a few body gestured from Bucky in response. His back was to you as he made his coffee so you couldn’t see his facial expressions but you assumed they were just as expressive as Steves. Clearly they were having a full on, non verbal, discussion that only two lifelong friends could have. Bucky finally turned to face you, a smirk on his lips as he took a sip of his coffee and hummed happily, before sticking his hand out to you, “I’m Bucky, by the way.”

You giggled at Steve’s eye roll, then shook his hand over the island counter, “Y/N.”

“Yeah, 3C.” He chuckled, “it’s nice to finally meet our neighbour after months.” He turned to Steve, and chuckled, “who knew there was a cute chick living nextdoor all this time.”

You blushed and laughed at that but before you could reply Steve did, “Buck,” he warned, “can I speak to you for a minute. Privately.”

“That’s rather rude, leaving our guest all alone.” Bucky replied, cheekily. And oh god, these guys needed there own reality tv show. Because you’d totally watch it.

Steve looked about ready to either drag Bucky out of the room, or smack him upside the head. You glanced down at your now empty plate and mug then spoke up before Steve could murder Bucky, “I should really be going,” you said as you stood from your stool, “thank you for breakfast, and letting me crash here, Steve.”

He snapped his eyes from Bucky to you and went to open his mouth to speak, but Bucky was a little quicker, “you’re leaving, so soon?”

You smirked and looked at him, “yeah, I should really be getting out of your hair now.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, you’re no bother to us,” he said quickly, “isn’t that right, Steve?” He asked as he swatted Steve’s chest with the back of his hand, receiving a grunt in return.

Steve rubbed the spot on his chest and shot Bucky a nasty glare, then his eyes landed on you and softened, completely, “it’s no bother at all, but I’m guessing you’d like to finally get back into your apartment.”

You nodded, “yeah, that I would.” Then you walked over to your laundry basket, picking it up and resting it on your hip before you turned back to the two men. Who were once again having a nonverbal conversation, that halted the second they realized you were facing them again.

“Ah, do you want help with that?” Steve asked as he gestured to the basket.

“No, I got it.” You replied with a smile as you walked to the entry table and grabbed your keys.

“Alright, then let me walk you out.” He said as he moved towards the door.

“It was nice to meet you, Bucky,” you smiled and went to follow Steve.

“Yeah, you as well, hopefully we get to see you around more often now.” He said back.

You nodded then joined Steve at the door, as he opened it for you. You exited into the hall then turned back to him, “I know I’ve said this so much already, but thank you again for everything, Steve.”

He smiled, “it was no bother. Really. Just ah, promise me if you get locked out again, you’ll just come knock on our door. Instead of trying to break in again.”

You giggled, “I will. Promise.”

“Okay, good. I’ll sleep better knowing you aren’t going to be dangling from anymore 3rd floor windows.” He chuckled.

“I’m glad to hear it. Bye, Steve.” You waved then started down the hall.

“Ah, bye, Y/N.” you heard him say back as you did.

You wanted to glance back, really you did, but you fought through the urge and just as you reached your apartment door you heard the soft click of his door closing. You finally unlocked your stupid fancy door knob and entered back into your suite. Releasing a deep breath, and hoping you’d get a run in with Steve again soon.

A thought crossed your mind and you laughed then shook your head. No, you can’t deliberately lock yourself out of your suite just so you can see him again. Because that’s insanely creepy and all together stalkerish. So you resigned yourself to just hoping you’d get to bump into him in the halls a little more now.

Over the next three weeks, you got your wish. Ten fold. It actually started to feel a little suspect, but you weren’t complaining. 6 months of living here and never once crossing paths with Steve or Bucky. And yet, in the span of three weeks you’d managed to see them both damn near daily.

Bucky would stop and chat with you, so long as neither of you was running late for something. He’d ask how you were and offer for you to come hang out with them. Sadly you’d usually either been just coming off a long shift and were dead on your feet, or heading to start your next one. So you hadn’t been able to take him up on the offers yet. But he’d always just nod, smile and reply, “next time then.” And on occasion he’d comment about how, “well, you do know where we live, so pop by any time.” To which you’d laugh and tell him “will do.”

When you ran into Steve, he was never as forward as Bucky, he’d make simple small talk. Asking how you were and how work was going. On occasion he’d be covered in dirt and ash, clearly just getting off shift, and waiting till he got home to shower. Every emergency worker had their own way to decompress after a particularly difficult shift. You assumed part of his was taking a nice long shower in his own home, where he could just stand and unwind on his own terms. You only figured that because you had a similar step in yours, plus the hospital showers just weren’t as good as your own. When you had stumbled upon him in that state, you’d ask how he was doing, truly, and question softly about his shift. He’d tell you little bits, usually nothing too deep. And you’d listen intently and just let him say as much or as little as he wanted. You knew from personal experience not to push more then that.

But today, today was a little different. You’d just stepped out of your apartment door, and as you were putting your key in to lock up, you heard the guys door open abruptly and then a stumbling Steve emerged into the hall with some force. He quickly collected himself, shooting a pointed glare back into his open suite door, just before it slammed shut. You heard his deep sigh right before he shifted his attention to you, giving you a shy smile and an awkward wave.

You laughed and waved back, figuring Bucky was behind this little ‘impromptu’ hallway meeting. Then finished locking your door and directed your attention to Steve, “fancy meeting you here.”

“Ah, yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “are you just heading off to work?”

You smirked, “nope, got one of those illusive days off. If you can believe that.”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, intrigued. “Got any exciting plans for it?”

“Ah, nope. No set plans, I was just going to go wander around and get some fresh air. You heading somewhere?” You asked.

“No, nope. No plans either.” He shrugged.

“Did you want to join me?” You asked, hesitantly, preparing yourself for his possible decline.

His eyes snapped to you then, but just as he opened his mouth to reply his suite door abruptly opened again, “he’d love to!” Was yelled out of it as one of, you assumed, Steve’s jackets came flying into the hall. He barely reacted in time to catch it and then the door slammed shut again, the sound of the lock clicking into place hitting your ears a second after.

Steve groaned softly, probably hoping you wouldn’t hear it, but you had. And you couldn’t stop the laugh that burst from your lips. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“God, he is just so damn pushy.” Steve mumbled as he put his jacket on and shot the closed door a quick glare, then started to walk towards you, “but he’s right, I’d love to.”

You smiled and tucked your keys into your purse, as you both headed for the stairwell door, “so, where to first?”

“Coffee?” He asked.

“Sounds perfect, my treat as a thank you for saving me that night.”

He shook his head adamantly, “nah, my treat this time. You can get the next round.”

The smile on your face grew even bigger, and even though you wanted to fight him on this, you didn’t. Instead replying with, “Deal. I’ll get the next round.”

You both glanced at each other as you made your way down the stairs, smiling like a pair of idiots at what you had both just implied. You weren’t sure what this little coffee date would lead to, or where this would all go, but you were excited for the possibilities it presented. And let’s be honest, any chance to glance at this handsome mans butt up close, was a perk all on it’s own. One you’d never turn down. Not in a million years. And to think, this all started because you ended up Locked Out of your place. It’s funny how life unfolds sometimes.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

If you’d like to be tagged in my future stories, just leave a comment below and I’ll add you to the list!

[all-by-myself98]

Shared Sorrows

Fandom: Kingsman (Set after TGC)

Prompt: In a world where people have their soulmate's name on their body somewhere, Reader and B don't have each other's name, but fall in love anyway.

Character: Jack Daniels (AKA Agent Whiskey)

   It had started out simple between you and Jack. You met at a bar you began working at. A guy had groped you in a not-so-innocent manner and he kicked his ass and threw him out. You thanked him with a refill of whiskey on the house.

   Then he began coming almost every week around the same time. Sometimes, he was alone, other times he had a few people from work with him.

   You really hadn’t meant to gain such a schoolgirl crush on the older man but you had felt lonely for years and to have a man treat you so kindly and so protectively like your own soulmate used to had triggered old feelings. Feelings of happiness and sadness. Safety and grief.

   A month after you had originally met Jack, you had to take some time off from work because of these feelings surfacing up and forcing you to mourn once again.

   The next week you’re back, you try to avoid his eyes but fail on numerous occasions. When it was finally time for your shift to end, he approaches you.

   “I don’t mean to be so forward,” he starts, “but I was wonderin’ if I could take you out after your shift ends. Maybe for some late dinner?”

   You’re hesitating right now. The sweet girl with the crush wants to know Jack more, but the strong young woman who failed to live a full and prosperous life with her true soulmate tells you no. He probably has his own soulmate waiting somewhere out there.

   “It don’t have to be a date if you don’t want it. Just two friends talkin’.” He assures. “I’m not lookin’ for a date or anything, just to talk. Get to know you.”

   This relaxes the heartbroken woman inside of you. “Okay... I’m off in 5. Meet me out front?” He nods in agreement.

   When you see Jack afterwards leaning on a dark blue truck, you’re still nervous. You know he said it isn’t a date, but you’re still scared shitless that he’ll expect something of you. Maybe him saving the day when he first met you was all a big long-term ploy to get in your pants. Maybe he’s nothing like your sweet Vincent was.

   The place he takes you to is a small diner just off the interstate, open 24/7 and wafting with burgers and fries once you enter. “Hope you don’t mind the place. I just love their bacon burgers.”

   You’re familiar with the place a little bit. Some of your coworkers go here to get food after their late night shifts too. They always try and convince you to join them because they know how much of a sucker you are for soft-serve ice cream and apparently this place has the best homemade selections. Problem is, you never accepted their invites because you don’t go out much since Vincent.

   “I’ve heard of their ice cream. Supposed to be good.” You reply.

   “You ain’t from around here.” He can probably tell due to your lack of a southern accent. Why else would someone drop everything and move to Kentucky? The fried chicken?

   “I’m not. I’m from the New England area.”

   You continue talking on and off through the night. You order your food and Jack screws around with the karaoke for a little bit to find a good song. Once he finally rests on a choice and your food arrives, you talk some more. Just simple things. Favorite food, favorite vacation spot, ideal pet, and so much more. Slowly, you begin to delve more into personal things.

   “Why leave New England for this piss poor place?” It was the question you had been dreading this whole time. Why come here? Why leave home? What’s here that isn’t there? “You don’t gotta answer if you’re not comfortable.”

   You shake your head. “I’m okay... It’s just hard to talk about.”

   He places one of his hands on yours and squeezes gently. He doesn’t want to frighten you away but he want’s to tell you he’s here to talk to and it’s okay. “You take all the time you need.”

   Thinking of Vincent is always difficult to do. You had loved him with all your heart. Hell, his name, now charred and written in ashy gray letters, rested right above your left hipbone. And your name had been on his left pec, rested right above his heart.

   “My husband... My soulmate... His name was Vincent. He passed away two years ago. I just couldn’t live in that place anymore without him.”

   There was silence for a few moments before he squeezes your hand once more. “I’m so sorry... That must have been horrible.”

   “I mean, I really should have been more prepared. Should have expected it more.” You counter, slipping your hand away from him. “He’d been struggling with illnesses his whole life. By the end of it, he couldn’t even walk.”

   He stops you by grabbing your hand back. “You should never have to expect that to happen. Losing someone as important as your soulmate... It’s harsh and powerful and it kills a part of you. You’re no longer whole.”

   You can feel his true and honest empathy. He really knows your pain because he too has felt it. “And your soulmate? Who were they?”

   Jack seems to double back, slips his hand off of you and leans back into the booth. He’s angry and pissed off.

   “If you don’t want to share, that’s okay.” You assure, reaching for his hand to squeeze it in comfort just as he did earlier.

   “No, it’s the least I could do after everythin’ you told me. It just... wasn’t as peaceful.” He takes a deep breath and steels himself. “It was... goddamn, over 20 years ago. Her name was Maria. She was pregnant with our son. But she went out shoppin’ and some druggies robbed the store...” He looks like he wants to say more about it. The way he spoke so venomously about the ‘druggies’. But he takes in another deep breath. “Cops said wrong place, wrong time...”

   “My god...” You almost continue to speak but the waitress comes by.

   “Food treating y’all okay? Were you looking to stay for dessert?” She asks. Her cheery and happy tone seems to be a bit ironic considering the mood of the table before she came by and what you were talking about.

   “Just a dessert menu please, Carol.” Jack mumbles. She leaves as quickly as she arrived, fake smile still plastered to her face.

   You almost continue to talk, tell him you feel horrible for him. He does the talking instead.

   “I almost tried to kill ‘em. Those druggies. Twice. First time, they almost got away with no jail time. I followed ‘em out the courthouse, had a switchblade from my stint in the army... Someone stopped me and took me in, helped me. Second time, those same people stopped me again, gave me a second chance I don’t deserve.”

   You counter his words. “We all deserve a second chance. Every single one of us. And maybe that’s idealist of me but it’s what I believe.”

   Carol the waitress comes back, dessert menu in hand, and places it on the counter, “I’ll come by in 5 to see if you’re ready.”

   She leaves and you two no longer talk about Vincent or Maria for the rest of the dinner. You are all cried out and much too tired to think about it any longer.

   So you go back to talking about small and meaningless stuff. Your dream jobs as a child, favorite movie, anything you can think of.

   After you get your dessert and Jack generously pays for the whole meal (despite your complaints that it wasn’t necessary), you walk in silence back to his truck. It’s 2 AM now. You admire the stars above for a bit before a question pops into your head.

   “Do you think they’re watching us now? Vincent and Maria and your little boy all grown up?”

   He halts his movement, having opened the passenger door for you. He looks up at the sky as well. “I don’t know. And I don’t know if I wanna know.”

   He drives you home instead of back to the bar for your car. You’re too tired at this point to be driving and he knows it. So you hesitantly give him your address and, after about 25 minutes, you’re in front of your house. He puts the truck in park for a moment and turns to face you.

   “May I ask somethin’ risky?” You nod in response. “You think... with everything we have in common... it might be right for me to ask you on a proper date? I can’t think for a second what Maria or Vincent wanted... but I would like to imagine that they would want us to try and move on, find a similar sorta love we had for ‘em...”

   You know Vincent would want you to move on. With his sicknesses, you always talked about it and he always told you the same thing. That he would want you to move on, to not hold back when an opportunity presents itself. And Jack, you know now, is a nice man no matter how much he says he’s not. He’s good and protective and handsome and funny and almost everything you would want in a man.

   You would be happy with Jack. And Vincent would be proud of you. And one could argue you already had your first date just then.

   “You could argue that what we just went to was our first date. You did pay for the whole tab when I told you not to.” You tease to him. He relaxes and lets out a small breathy laugh. Then, you scoot a little bit closer, placing your hand behind his neck. “But we’re missing one thing that we didn’t do on our first date.”

   “And what pray tell was it that we missed?” He asks.

   “This.”

   Then, with all of the courage you can muster, you kiss him. It was only meant to be short, but he places his hands on the sides of your face and reciprocates and it grows longer and breathier. His lips taste like a perfect combination of sweet and sour, and mold against you almost perfectly. His hands and his neck and everything is warm and, when you finally pull apart, he brushes strands of your hair away from your face.

   “You seem to surprise me every day I see you.” Jack whispers.

   “Funnily enough, I’m never usually this confident.”

   “Can I kiss you once more?”

   “Yes please.”

---------------

A/N: #3 of reawakening the writer in me. Now, a soulmate AU with Agent Whiskey of the Statesman. I set this after The Golden Circle because I was sad he died so, instead, I imagine hes sorta being rehabilitated by the Statesman and on a probationary period (of course, because he tried to let all of the drug users die).

As always, some constrictive criticism would be great. I tried to show his southern accent in the dialogue but I don’t know if I did very well.

Anyway, enjoy the rest of your Columbus day, y’all!

[domesticsns]

Some NFSW?

I am going to cry because I was busy writing a really really good scene and It had everything! But then I accidently closed my browser and it is all gone...So now I am sad. 

Shit....I was really getting into it. This hurts. 

SO AM GIVING YOU A SUMMARY OF WHAT I HAD WRITTEN OUT LIKE A STORY.  -> Screw me right. 

Okay. So it went like. (I had this all written down damn it) 

Naruto came home from work and saw Izuna was playing video games. He sat down, watching him a little, talking about games. He hears Sasuke call him in the bedroom. He says he is going to come in a minute. But Sasuke tells him to come now. Izuna jokes that the ice queen had summoned Naruto and Naruto chuckled at this. They had talked a little about their days and Izuna mentioned how Sasuke was pretty annoyed at work and how he was ‘slut’ shaming him for sleeping with this cop named...He forgot the name. Naruto laughed a little at this and headed to the bedroom where Sasuke had called him.

He expected to get some lecture of how he badly folded the laundry or something, but the moment he opened the door. He got pulled inside by Sasuke and pushed against the shut door. He opened his eyes, muttering how he expected this was the day Sasuke was going to murder him and hide him in the crawlspace in the basement of the building. 

Sasuke tells him to open his eyes and stop being a fucking pussy. 

Naruto opens his eyes and sees his husband in some pretty sexy lingerie. He stares him down up and down and back up and back down. Sasuke first mutters how Naruto thought of him as a murderer, but let it slide. He kissed Naruto on the mouth and neck and whispered how Naruto should stop talking and he wanted to hear him moan.

Now this was surprising odd behaviour from Sasuke, especially since Izuna moved in with them for the time being their sex life was kinda dead. Sasuke felt too awkward doing it with Izuna in the next room. He was shy. Naruto understood this and the walls were pretty thin and even though Sasuke can be very quiet...He could not.  But suddenly...With Izuna in the living room...Sasuke wanted to do it and asked Naruto to moan. Hmm...Suspicious, but...He didn’t think too much of it. Besides, when you have Sasuke in a sexy mood...You don’t question it, you just enjoy the ride. 

Sasuke ripped Naruto’s shirt open and Naruto was kinda killing the mood, by stating that was a good shirt and Sasuke saying he hated the shirt anyway. Naruto muttered the shirt was funny because it said  “Tea-shirt” and had a tea bag on it. Sasuke backed off and gave Naruto an annoyed looked and Naruto zipped his mouth and thus Sasuke continues, kissing Naruto and biting Naruto he played bit down Naruto’s collar bone and nipple and was squeezing his ass. he moves his way down, leaving a trail of kisses up to his lower abdomen. He kneeled down and took Naruto’s pants off and rolled his eyes looking super unimpressed by the briefs Naruto was wearing. 

Naruto jokes that Sasuke knew what he was getting into when he married Naruto. 

Sasuke looked at the doctor Who underwear that had the Police box on the crotch saying, “It gets bigger inside”. He wanted to tear them off like the shirt, but Naruto stopped him saying he really liked this. So Sasuke just pulled them off and looked up from Naruto’s erection erotically saying, “It does get bigger inside.” and he placed a soft kiss on it before taking it in his mouth  

(This was where accidently excited the browser...I had this all written out..Anyway, I was planning. On the scenes so I am just gonna summarize them because, I am lazy. And it still pains me to think about my lost effort.)  

So Sasuke gives Naruto a blow job and Naruto wanted to grab Sasuke’s hair, but Sasuke pushed Naruto’s hand away. Keeping up his slow teasing way. Naruto doesn’t protest as I said before ‘he was ready for the ride’. Every touch felt so good and amazing, it was very hard to fight back his animal instinct for quick release. Sasuke stopped sucking him off and fondling his balls and demanded him to get on the bed. Naruto takes his pants and briefs (and socks for those who wondered) off and laid down on the bed like the obedient man he was. 

Sasuke grabbed lube and a special box Naruto had not seen before and was going to ask about it, but then Sasuke got on top of him, looking sexy as hell and Naruto kind of forgot about it quickly. There was some hot making out and Naruto’s hand moved over Sasuke’s hips to his butt, to his back and over his torso and Sasuke pulled away from the kiss as Naruto moves his hands over Sasuke’s thighs, giving him a little apologetic look. 

“What, I just think you’re really hot and I want to touch you.” 

“It is not what I had planned.” 

Naruto had a little pouting face on and Sasuke said he had five minutes. and Naruto took those five minutes. He pinned Sasuke down and kissed him all over, he took the most advantage he could in those five minutes he got, but Sasuke was a men of his words and five minutes meant five minutes and as soon at they were over, which felt like only a couple of seconds to Naruto, Sasuke pinned Naruto back down and used some silk ropes his hand to the headboard. 

“Precaution really?” Naruto looked at Sasuke. 

“Just making sure you’re not going fuck up what I had planned.” Sasuke says giving Naruto a little kiss on the mouth, Naruto tried to recapture Sasuke lips but it didn’t work. 

Sasuke got off him and Naruto protested a little. He saw Sasuke grab that box again and he looked curiously on what it was, still not getting much wise when the item was released from the box. 

“What is that?” Naruto asked. 

“Don’t worry about it babe.” 

“Doesn’t sound like good communication...” Naruto argued. 

“Shut up you love it.” 

“Damn it I do, it like really good porn...With better lighting.” Naruto feels Sasuke press his finger against his lips again, indicating him to shut up. Sasuke grabbed the lube and put some on his fingers he stroked Naruto’s cock and slipped a finger inside of him, and soon another. He fingered him and jerked him off teasingly, not too much for Naruto to cum but enough to keep him just on edge. He grabbed the mystery toy and Naruto looked curiously. 

“It’s called a 3-in-1 Remote Control Prostate Massager Vibrator with Penis Ring and Ball Loop, 9 Speeds Rechargeable Anal Sex Toy Waterproof ....The reviews were pretty good.” Sasuke says, holding it up. 

“Sure...Never heard of a  3-in-1 Remote Control Prostate Massager Vibrator with Penis Ring and Ball Loop, 9 Speeds Rechargeable Anal Sex Toy Waterproof..Before.” 

Sasuke had a little smile on his face, finding the conversation a bit funny. He looked adorable, pushing his hair behind his ear as he usually did when he was flirting with Naruto all the way back when they were dating and he still everted his eyes, feeling a little shy. 

So he grabbed the remote, turned it on the lowest setting, moved it a little up to setting three which seemed to be the right setting for Naruto. Hearing his husband moan. He put the remote down on the bed and teasingly sucked on his husband’s erection. He sat on his husband’s hips, reverse cowgirl style, and he leaned in to take his husband in his mouth while given Naruto a pretty good ass view which was greatly appreciated. He started of slow and builded it up, allowing Naruto to move his hips up and his cock inside Sasuke’s mouth. His movements got more rougher and desperate and he was moaning so loud. Sasuke sat, up looking over his shoulder at his husband’s flushed face and he moves his hand to jerk him off. They made eye contact and Naruto moaned his name loudly. 

Sasuke encouraged him greatly. Telling Naruto to say his name and how good he could fuck his husband. Naruto being a moaning puddle does this. Sasuke tells him to say he did not use too much tongue at all and Naruto, while still flustered and moaning from the stimulation, gave Sasuke a pretty weird out look before asking if Sasuke was projecting something and Sasuke just took his words back and said, nevermind... 

He let took Naruto’s dick in his mouth again, moved his position a little and Naruto’s moans were getting really loud and he came very hard and pretty unexpected Sasuke hears Naruto still moaning his name, a bit more desperate now. and Sasuke looked over his shoulder at his husband asking if he was fine and Naruto, the poor soul he was at the moment, tried to say that the toy moved from a low-medium stimulation to a the maximum and Naruto’s legs are spasming and he is going to pass out. 

So Sasuke quickly got off him and looked the remote, those few minutes that passed trying to find it..Made Naruto kinda forcefully cum again. and Naruto is pulling on the ropes, but they were too tightly bound and eventually Sasuke found the remote somewhere hidden under the sheets and turned it off and he looks at his husband who is taking deep breaths and he looks over at Sasuke and asks why he just didn’t remove the toy instead of searching for the remote. 

“You’re legs were moving all around I thought it would hurt if I forcefully took it out.” 

“I don’t know!  I see black...I am going to pass out.”  Naruto says. Sasuke carefully removed the toy and got on top of his husband giving little kisses on his face apologising for accidently turning the toy into max. and Naruto says it was alright besides...Those were some pretty intense orgasms. Sasuke continued kissing Naruto all over his face. Saying he was sorry again and he was going to be more careful with where he placed the remote and he finally untied Naruto before his arms got numb and Naruto wrapped his arms around Sasuke and hugged him and said he must be living dream, passing out from sex. Sasuke chuckled at this  stroked Naruto’s hair. Naruto looks up and Sasuke looks back at him and Naruto asks him if he could ask him a question.

Sasuke said sure, but he knew he was going to regret it. 

“What was that about using too much tongue? Why did you want me to say that you do not use too much tongue?” Naruto asked, moving his torso up. 

“Uhm....I don’t know...Heat of the moment?” Sasuke shrugged. “But like...Wouldn’t kill you to say....Y’know...Loud enough for the other room to hear.” 

“I should have known it had something to know with Izuna.” 

“Did you tell him I use too much tongue when we...Y’know, make out.” Sasuke asked, sitting up himself. 

“I never said that. You know I wouldn’t say that behind your back. I would say it in your face.” 

“Right?” Sasuke looked convinced.

“You use a little much tongue....” 

“You’re telling me this after thirteen years of being with me!” Sasuke shouts. 

“But I like it. I mean in general, yeah there is a little too much tongue, but I like it.” Naruto says, “I wouldn’t be complaining about something I like.” 

Sasuke groaned a little. 

“Come on babe, don’t be grumpy.” Naruto moves in on Sasuke, holding his chin with his index finger and thumb. He moves his thumb over Sasuke’s chin wiping a little bit of his cum away that was still there. 

“I can make you smile, believe it.” Naruto says, kissing Sasuke’s forehead. His head filled with the things he wanted to do to Sasuke, especially since he looked sexy as hell in those lingerie. But then he felt Sasuke wrap his arms around him and lean his chin on Naruto’s shoulder and they sat like that for a few minutes. 

“I was thinking something else...” Naruto muttered.

“You know I think it is awkward to fuck while my cousin is in the other room.” Sasuke pulled away, patting Naruto’s cheeks before getting up. 

“But....But...You did me? Twice by accident.” Naruto says, watching his husband take off the lingerie and put on a oversize hoodie and some shorts. 

“Yeah, because I was proving a stupid point to my stupid cousin.” Sasuke says, “An apparently...I do use too much tongue. I am bitter about it because I assumed I used the right amount of tongue.” 

“Babe. you given off sociopathic vibes right now.” 

“You thought I was going to murder you when I pulled you in here, so yeah I do know how you feel about me. Clean up, go to living room..Tell that bitch I am the best piece of ass you had, ever.”

“I need a little more time for my legs. I still can’t feel them.” 

“Good. I might use a little too much tongue, but I do one hell of a job getting you off.” 

“That you do...” Naruto admits, looking at the sheets. 

[merakiaes]

Fuchsbau - Drew Wu

Pairing: Drew Wu x reader (platonic)

Requested: Yes!

Warnings/notes: This is really poorly written, I’m sorry </3 I hope you like it anyways!

Wordcount: 1658

Summary: You’ve been best friends with Wu for as long as you can remember. Something happens that exposes you to the Wesen world. Wu is going to explain it to you when he realizes you’ve known the entire time.

When being best friends with Drew Wu, life was never boring. You had met in middle school. You were new to school and in dire need of new friends. He was a bit of a social outcast, and only had one friend, who over time joined the popular kids and left him behind, too.

Ever since day one and on to this day, Wu had a certain way of dealing with things life threw at him. Even in the most serious of situations, he managed to crack jokes and put on one of those famous sarcastic smiles of his.

You were more of a quiet person. Not shy, per se, you just didn’t necessarily like talking. So, it was safe to say it turned out to be quite the good match. He did most of the talking, and you, with your poor sense of humor, always laughed at his ridiculous jokes and sarcastic remarks.

Despite being a person of very few words when growing up, you told him everything, as he did you. The only thing you hadn’t told him, was about the Wesen-world. You knew you could trust him with the information, but you weren’t exactly the fiercest kind, and you didn’t know if you would be able if he would ever find himself in danger.

Now you were both in your late thirties. You had moved together to Portland a few years ago when Wu had gotten a job offer as a cop. You had only planned to live with each other until you managed to find a job and apartment of your own, but you hadn’t talked about you moving out once since moving in, despite the fact that you now had a steady job as a nurse.

Today was Wu’s first day off from work in a long time, and he had found it an appropriate time to take you to meet his friends. This brought you to where you were now, sitting in the passenger seat of your own car while Wu drove towards your destination.

“How many people did you say were going to be there, again?” You asked as you adjusted your seatbelt, looking out the car window and taking in the sun setting behind the trees.

“Uh…” Wu thought, finger drumming on the steering wheel. “There’s Nick, Juliette, Hank, Rosalee and Monroe. So, five. It’s Rosalee and Monroe’s house.”

You hummed, nodding your head along. “You’re sure they’re okay with me crashing your dinner?”

He snorted, looking at you briefly. “We’re having this dinner in your honor, so yeah, I would think so.”

“Well.” You laughed, smiling at him. “When you put it that way.”

Five minutes worth of driving and conversing about the latest Uncharted game later, the sun had completely set behind the mountains in the distance, the street now only being illuminated by the streetlights.

Another two minutes later, and Wu was finally pulling up outside of a cute greyish baby blue house with a yellow bug and a sleek, black car, that you had no idea what he brand of was, parked in front of the garage.

“We’re here.” Wu said, stating the obvious as he parked on the side of the curb right in front of the house and turning off the ignition.

Without saying a word, you undid your seatbelt and got out of the car, inspecting the house calmly as you waited for Wu to do the same and lock up the car. Once he had done so, he came around to where you were waiting, and side by side, you walked down the small walkway toward the front door.

You stuffed your hand in your jacket pockets as you walked, starting to feel a bit nervous. You knew that some of the people you were about to meet were his colleagues that he had known ever since day one in this place.

You didn’t know why had never met them before, you guessed they were just that busy with work. But now was the time. Wu hadn’t given you much of a warning, just coming home from work last night and telling you that you would be going over to his friends for dinner tonight.

So, here you were.

Noticing your suddenly nervous demeanor, Wu nudged your side with his elbow. You turned to look at him, watching as he offered you a small smile. “Hey, you don’t need to be nervous. They’re all looking forward to meeting you.”

The corners of your lips tugged upward at his words of encouragement, but before you could respond, there was a crash from inside, followed by loud shouting and another crash, and not even a second later, a man came barging out the front door.

Only he wasn’t a man.

It was a Löwen in all its woged glory, slamming the door open and rushing down the front steps of the porch. You didn’t have any time to react or get out of the way, resulting in the Löwen running into you and taking you with him to the ground.

“What the hell!” You yelled, fear creeping up in your veins and your heart starting to thump against your chest violently. “Get it off!” You kicked your legs and luckily, the Löwen was ripped off your body.

You wasted no time in scrambling back on your hands and feet, watching as the Löwen ran into the woods. Three guys came out of the house then, followed by two women. One of the men, with brown hair and a police badge hanging from his neck, skipped down the stairs followed by another guy with a police badge.

“Monroe, stay here. Hank and I are going after that guy.” He instructed the third guy who was still standing on the porch with the two females. He then turned to Wu. “Take your friend inside, explain what you have to. We’ll be back.”

And then the two were off.

Wu turned to you, finding you still sitting on the ground and panting heavily, eyes wide in fright. He sighed, muttering under his breath as he walked over and helped you up. “Come on, (Y/N).”

He grabbed your hand and pulled you up, and you let him steer you into the house where the others had already entered. A minute later, you found yourself on the couch with a cup of tea in your hand. Wu was sitting beside you and the three strangers that had introduced themselves as Monroe, Rosalee and Juliette had gone into the kitchen to give you some privacy.

Wu grabbed your hand carefully and finally opened his mouth to speak. “I know what must be going through your head right now. But I’m going to explain it. What you just saw was something called wesen. A wesen is somet-“

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, tuning him out and drowning into your own thoughts. He knew about wesen? You could’ve told him this whole time? You shook your head slightly, a small smile making its way onto your lips.

“Drew.” You only interrupted, finally coming back to your senses from the previous state of shock you had been in.

He shook his head. “I know how it sounds, but Monroe and Rosalee are wesen, too. They can show you-“

“Drew.” You interrupted again, chuckling. “You don’t have to explain.”

But he didn’t listen, only continuing. “I know how crazy it sounds, okay! I thought I was crazy, too, but-“

Rolling your eyes, you tilted your head, shaking slightly as you let yourself woge, right in front of his eyes. Wu flew back on the couch at the sight, eyes widening and a loud yell rising up his throat and out of his mouth.

Monroe, Rosalee and Juliette came barging into the room at the sound, stopping in their tracks in the doorway at the sight of you. Rosalee’s eyes widened. “You’re a Fuchsbau, too?” She broke into a large grin, coming over to hug you just as you woged back to your human form.

“I- you- how-“ Drew stuttered from behind you as Rosalee let you go. You turned to look at him, seeing nothing but confusion and shock on his face.

You offered him a careful smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I know I could trust you, I just didn’t want to put you in any unnecessary danger. If I would have known you already knew, I wouldn’t have kept it from you. I had never seen a Löwen in person before, that’s why I got so scared.” You paused, face falling slightly as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “Are you mad?”

Wu rolled his lip into his mouth, putting his hands on his hips and looking around briefly before looking back to you with a smile. “I’m not mad, I’m just… Surprised.”

“So you’re okay with all of this?” You motioned to yourself, hesitant.

He only shrugged, a smile finally rising on his lips. “Well, I mean, I kind of have to be. Rosalee is a Fuchsbau, too, as you know now. And Monroe is a Blutbad. Nick is a Grimm, for God’s sake. Wesen is a part of my everyday life, nowadays.”

Your eyes widened at this, and you looked between them, backing away quickly and shouting out. “You’re friends with a Grimm?!”

The others exchanged a look.

“Oh, man.” Monroe mumbled from the doorway, pinching the bridge of his nose in exhaustion before coming over to grab your shoulders and steer you into the kitchen. “If we’re going to have this conversation, we better do it over a glass of wine.”

“Or a bottle.” Rosalee agreed quietly behind you, following behind the two of you into the kitchen with Juliette and Wu close behind. Now that the Fuchsbau was out of the bag, they might as well fill you in on the whole story. There was no way you were getting out of this, now.

[sourw0lf]

Seemingly Insignificant

Summary: “It wasn’t until a couple months later that you knew you needed to find that arrogant bastard and meet him at least one more time, if only to inform.”

Relationship: Dean Winchester x Reader

Tags: Unplanned pregnancy, Fluff

Word Count: About 2000

Read it on AO3

You first met Dean in a greasy bar in Sioux Falls, North Dakota.

At first sight, you hated him. He was obviously a fed, and a dick. Neither of which you chose to waste your time on, even if he was pretty damn handsome. You watched him from afar, sitting in a booth across from the bar and thinking with curiosity. Why was the FBI in town?

It must have been Amanda. The poor thing was found strangled to death in her dorm room. You didn’t know her well, she lived a few blocks away from you. But, from the interactions you did have with the girl, you know in your heart she didn’t deserve what she got. It must have been some psychotic prick lurking the girls fraternity. Disgusting.

Girls had been attacked before of course, it was a college. But no one had ever been murdered in the history of Falls University. It was big, everyone talked about it when it first happened.

But it had been weeks since the horrific event, so why did they care now?

“Hey, uh. You happen to know a girl by the name of Amanda Reed?”

You were suddenly pulled out of your thoughts by a hard voice. When you looked up, the federal agent was in front of you, green eyes full of question. He look semi-dedicated to his mission but more focused on getting your attention.

You played along.

Two beers, three whiskeys, and a shot of tequila later you were moaning his name (which was Dean, apparently) back at your apartment two blocks from the bar you started at.

Though he looked like a dick he…. Well, he actually was one. He was really fucking rude and talked like he knew everything, but you ignored that fact in favor of his actual dick which was fucking divine. Made up for it, even.

Though he wasn’t good enough for you to regret when he got up at four in the morning and threw on his jeans. He gave you a quick kiss and walked out the door and you never expected to him again. You didn’t want to see him again, you didn’t have any desire to pursue something with a dumb cop.

-

It wasn’t until a couple months later that you knew you needed to find that arrogant bastard and meet him at least one more time, if only to inform.

The time you went to Taco Bell those couple weeks ago and ate three five-layer burritos and a supreme nacho as your dearest coworker, Kevin, watched in awe didn’t seem that weird. You were just hungry. The time you passed out watching tv at six in the evening and woke up at noon wasn’t weird, and neither was the next couple days when you did the same exact thing. You were just tired.

It wasn’t until you started puking in the mornings, when you started avoiding food and smells you once loved, when you were suddenly missing two periods in a row, that you realized.

You were pregnant, the two stupid little lines on the stupid plastic stick that you bought from the stupid convenience store down the road only confirmed it.

And since you didn’t do dumb things like hook ups with mysterious assholes often, you knew exactly who the father was. Now, you were on a mission to find the prick and break the news.

-

As it turns out, finding him was very hard. You would think tracking down a federal agent would be easy. How were they supposed to serve the people if you couldn’t find them for fucks sake.

What if you had new information on Amanda? How would they ever know? It was all very frustrating.

You contacted every office you could, he couldn’t be found. None of them had heard of a Dean Dills no matter how hard you looked and you were starting to give up hope. In the two months since you saw him, something must have changed. He obviously wasn’t working for the feds anymore. Which was kind of weird.

A month and a half later on a Thursday you were given something very useful. You were out with a couple girls and Kevin from work, they were drinking and you weren’t but you were having a good time anyways. Somewhere in the conversation Dean was brought up, you were very obviously pregnant now and everyone was curious and you knew it.

“I don’t know, you guys. Some agent that come through here a while back. I can’t find him, it’s fine.” You accepted the single parent status as soon as you realized you were pregnant with a hook-ups baby, and a dick at that.

“What was his name? You can probably call up and-”

You helped yourself from rolling your eyes. Of course you looked him up. Of course you called.

“Dean Dills. Already did.”

They were just trying to help but you had gone through enough work looking for him and he wasn’t to be found. You were done with it already.

“Did you say Dills? FBI?” The bartender spoke up from a foot away, investing in a conversation she had clearly been eavesdropping in on. “Tall, dark, and handsome?”

Shocked, you spoke, “...Yeah?”

“He was working on Amanda’s case. He questioned me about it. Left a card, told me to call if I remembered something.”

“Well, do you still have it?!” Jo spoke up next to you, enthralled in the drama of it all. She was your best friend of a few years, her mother took you in when you were a homeless teenager and the both of you had been sisters since.

“Yeah, it’s in the office. I’ll go get it for you.”

You didn’t get your hopes up. This man wasn’t an agent anymore and that means there was a 50/50 chance his number was still working. Even if he did pick up you weren’t confident he would remember you, both of you were pretty drunk at the time and it had been almost four months.

“Here you go, hun. Good luck,” the bartender gave you a sympathetic smile and then worked her way down the bar to help a customer.

-

And then there you were, sitting on the edge of your bed with your phone shaking in your hands. The call was on speaker phone and it was ringing loudly.

You almost thought he wouldn’t picked up. Then, a familiar rough voice spoke from the other end, “...Hello?”

“Dean?”

He must have been used to urgent phone calls because he made it down to your apartment in a couple hours, speeding from the state over he told you he was in. The Impala was loud when it rolled in and he looked tired when he came up to the door.

He was only able to knock once before you swung the door open, “Holy shit.” being the first dumb thing to slide out of your mouth.

“Uhh, yeah? You called, I came. What’s the crisis?”

“Come in, let me show you.”

Dean followed blindly, “What, you got a body in here or something?” It almost sounded like a joke but his tone was far from amused.

When you closed the door behind you he turned and looked at you, waiting for an answer.

You couldn’t tell him, the words wouldn’t come out of you mouth. So you stripped yourself of the baggy, maroon sweater you were wearing, revealing your bump through the thin tank top beneath it.

Dean took many deep breaths and stared at your abdomen with question, “Well… I’ll be damned.”

He didn’t seem as surprised as you’d expected and he sure as hell wasn’t as surprised as you had been but the shock was evident on his face for at least a brief second. And then it was just down right worried.

You thought it was because of the baby, he didn’t want it. Didn’t want to take care of it.

But then he told you about it, about everything. Why he was in town those couple of days, why you couldn’t contact him and why he didn’t seem to exist (his last name was actually Winchester, you had figured out sometime later). And then he explain what he did for a living.

And then you lived it.

One day you had a life. A job, friends, and an apartment. The next day you had nothing but the Winchester brothers and the baby you carried.

Demons had killed Kevin and you were next. If it wasn’t for Sam, Dean’s brother and your newfound friend, you and the baby would have died. The giant hunter had killed your threat with a large, detailed knife and you were more than thankful for it.

Now you had no choice but to live life on the road with the Winchesters, it was the safest option for everyone involved. Your name was out there and apparently all of hell new you carried Dean’s baby. Which was not a good thing for you, you had found out.

-

For the most part, though, you enjoyed it for the most part. The baby like burgers, you found out. There had been more than one occasion that you woke Dean or Sam up in the middle of the night to drive you to the nearest fast food place. They were always happy to do it, Dean got a burger for himself too half the time.

You found out soon that the Winchesters were very patient people. They worked you through the grief of losing one of your best friends and helped you breathe through every panic attack you had, onset of the discovery of a new monster.

Hell, Dean had even shushed you through the time you had puked on him in the middle of the night. He swore up and down it was his fault anyways, because he wrapped an arm around you when you were trying to get up out of bed and that’s why you didn’t make it. You still cried and apologized through the mess off peeling his puke-covered clothes and getting new sheets for the bed from the front desk. Sam took care of the mess and Dean dragged you into the shower with him to clean and calm you down.

You were thankful for him.

He collected stuff for the baby too. Half the time there was no room for anyone in the back of the Impala. It was cute, really. Whenever he went to the store and saw something he liked for the “little bean” he grabbed it. He stocked up on diapers and clothes and toys and smiled every time he showed you something new.

And Bobby complained every time Dean dropped more crap off at his house but if the old man was being honest, he was excited for his pseudo-grandchild to come. You liked Bobby too, he seemed like a hell of a better father than yours had ever been and it sounded like Dean and Sam could agree on that front.

Sam was fascinated with the little ones kicks. You got excited every time they started up because the smile on Sam’s face when he sprawled his giant hand over your stomach and felt his niece or nephew kick at him was possibly one of the most adorable things you could witness on a daily basis.

They were happy with you and with the baby and you couldn’t be more happy with them.

And when the baby did come, it came naturally in the back of the Impala on a deserted highway weeks before your due date You were all scared when it happened, Dean probably more than anyone. But you got through it and then you had a beautiful baby girl.

Her name? Mary Rosalie Winchester. The boys were more than thrilled.

[nexttrickanvils]

FE3H Fic: Falling for You

Title: Falling For You

Characters: Claude Von Reigen, F!Byleth, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Edelgard Von Hresvelg, Sylvain Jose Gautier, Mercedes Von Martritz, small cameos from a few FE: Fates characters

Ships: Claude x Byleth, background Sylvain x Mercedes

Notes: Modern!AU

---------

The first thing Claude thought was: “Did anyone get the number on the bus that just hit me?”

“Sir!? Sir!? Are you alright!?”

The second thing Claude thought was: “...Oh...”

He stared up at the bespectacled blue haired woman looking over him with concern on her face.

“Sir! Do you need me to call someone? Do you know where you are? What...”

Claude groaned as he finally sat up and gave the woman a carefree smile.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. No need to call somebody and if it’ll make you feel better, we’re at the Garreg Mach Public Library.”

She sighed in relief and smiled back.

“Good.”

The blue haired woman offered her hand to Claude and helped him up. She then turned to a group of young kids. Guess she must have been a teacher or something.

“Kana?”

One kid in particular, a young boy with messy silver hair stepped forward and stood next to his teacher.

“Now Kana, what do we say when we bump into someone?”

The boy looked up at Claude with big fat tears in his eyes.

“I’M SORRY MISTER! I DIDN’T MEAN TO! I GOT EXCITED AND...”

“Hey, hey no need to shout little guy, we’re at the library. And don’t worry, I forgive you. Just make sure you listen to your Teach okay?”

The boy let out a sniffle and an “Okay.”

He went back to his little group and took the hand of a red-haired girl a couple years older than him.

The teacher looked back at Claude, “Once again, I am so sorry for my student...”

“Come on, you don’t gotta apologize too. Believe me, if you want to hear some horror stories about hyper kids, just ask my mom about my childhood.”

She gave a small chuckle and Claude felt a slight heat in his cheeks.

“Nonetheless, they are my responsibility. So I shoulder some of the blame.”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. You should get back to your job instead of worrying about me.”

She nodded and turned back to her group, “Alright everyone, now where we?”

Claude watched with a smile as the kids and their teacher walked off to the library’s kids section. 

He quickly returned to what he was doing before and yet as the day went on, he kept thinking about the blue haired woman.

She seemed nice, hells nicer than some of the teachers he grew up with. Those kids are lucky to have her.

Not to mention, if Claude had to be honest, she was kind of cute and that laugh…

Claude shook his head, what was he doing? It’s not like he was going to see her again.

...Though he wouldn’t mind that… maybe get to hear her laugh again…

…

“...I picked a bad time to realize I have a thing for girls in glasses didn’t I?”

===

Telling Dimitri and Edelgard about what happened was probably the dumbest thing Claude could have done.

Dimitri’s reaction wasn’t too bad, supportive and was even willing to help out if needed, but Edelgard… Claude can’t remember the last time his friend laughed this hard.

“...You done?”

Edelgard’s laughter started to slow down and she finally took a few breaths.

“M-my apologies, Claude it’s just…hahaha... it’s just funny to think that you, Claude “I don’t believe in hokey stuff like Moon Signs and Soulmates” Von Reigen of all people would fall in love at first sight.”

“Hey I did NOT “fall in love at first sight.” I’m just curious about her and want to see her again. Get to know her better you know?”

“That… sounds an awful lot like love at first sight.” Remarked Dimitri the Traitor

Claude glared at them both as he took a swig of his drink.

The blonde smiled and continued, “To be honest, it all does sound rather romantic.”

“Except for the part where you were knocked over by a toddler.” Added Edelgard

“I did not get knocked over by a toddler… I think the kid was in kindergarten.”

At that, Dimitri let out a laugh that he tried very hard to hide. Claude said nothing as he went back to his drink.

“All joking aside, what was her name? Perhaps you could look her up online...” asked Edelgard

At that, Claude nearly choked. 

Shit! He never got her name!

Claude smacked his head against the bar and even though he couldn’t see them, he could feel the disappointed expressions on Dimitri and Edelgard’s faces.

...Well okay maybe disappointed isn’t the right word but they are judging him.

===

At some point last night, his friends did actually give Claude some good advice.

Most of the local schools had photos of their staff on their websites and without knowing her name, this seemed like the best and “least likely to get the cops called on him” way to find her. 

So he grabbed his phone and a notepad and sat down at his favorite coffee shop. This shouldn’t take too long right?

...Too bad no one told him that there was a whole lot of elementary schools in Garreg Mach. Claude knew this place was a big city. He’s lived here for a good few years now and he swears he keeps finding new old places. 

But did this city really need this many elementary schools!?

“Not really how I pictured spending my afternoon” Claude muttered as he scratched out Saint Cethlean Elementary & Middle School off his list. At this rate, Mystery Teach will have retired by the time Claude found out where she worked.

After scratching out six or maybe seven more schools from the list, Claude took a glance around the coffee shop; the place was starting to get a little too crowded for his liking. Maybe he should head out and take a break. Maybe do some people watching near the old Monastery.

However just as he stood up, he spotted a familiar someone at the counter.

“Here you go Ma’am, have a nice day!” “Thank you, you too.”

No way… there was no way…

Except there was no mistaking that blue hair or her voice.

...Claude wasn’t exactly a religious man but he couldn’t help but mentally thank whatever god or goddess seemed to be listening to him.

He waited until she stepped out of line before taking a deep breath, putting on his most charming smile, and approaching her; being very careful not to startle her.

However before he could reach her, the crowd in the shop seemed to shift and Claude found himself stuck.

“Hey! ‘Scuse me! Tryna get through!”

Claude tried his best to get through the crowd but some people were just way too stubborn and pushy for their own. Before long, Claude found himself falling forward out of the crowd.

‘Okay I’m taking back the thanks to any god or goddess listening, cause they’re obviously jerks and are laughing at me.’

Claude stood back and tried to look for around for the woman. Soon he spotted her through the window, walking away and chatting with a short haired blonde woman. The blonde seemed familiar somehow to Claude but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

As for who she probably was, she was likely Teach’s co-worker or just a friend… or even a girlfriend.

It was that thought that made Claude realize: What the hells was he doing?

Is he really so desperate that a smile and some basic human decency is enough to make him act like an idiot tripping over himself?

He didn’t even know her name, for gods’ sake!

Claude sighed as he picked up the things he dropped and headed out of the coffee shop.

====

Claude had hoped to spend a nice quiet evening hanging out and drinking with Dimitri and Edelgard.

Unfortunately this was not to be because when he arrived at their usual spot, Edelgard looked like she was ready to strangle someone and Dimitri was in a friendly(?) headlock by a loud drunk with bright red hair. It took Claude a minute to recognize the guy as Sylvain, one of Dimitri’s friends.

He took a seat next to Edelgard and shot her a sympathetic look. “Long night?”

“It’s only been an hour.”

“So what brought Sylvain here?”

“Apparently he’s getting married to Mercedes.”

If Claude had a drink, this would be the point where he’d spit it all over the counter.

“Wait. Sylvain is getting married. OUR Sylvain?”

“Do we know any others?”

“...So...”

“Dimitri called Mercedes to come pick Sylvain up. She was just getting off work when he called so hopefully she’ll be here soon.”

Claude looked at the thrilled drunk redhead and could hear him gushing about his fiancee and how she’s one of the few people who could see the “real him.” 

Meanwhile poor Dimitri is just nodding along and adding the ocasional “I know” and “I’m very happy for you.”

“Never thought Sylvain of all people would get married.”

“Well I suppose this week has been one for miracles. Speaking of: how is your search for your true love going?”

Claude decided to ignore the “true love” comment and explained to Edelgard that he gave up.

“Give up? That doesn’t sound like you.”

“Yeah well, I didn’t realize how many schools I had to look up and I kind of had an epiphany that I was acting like a creepy idiot.”

“I see.”

After a few more minutes of trying to talk to his friends over Sylvain’s ramblings, Claude heard the sound of the bar door opening. He looked over and his eyes widened.

“Mercedes? I almost didn’t recognize you.” remarked Edelgard

The blonde giggled as she showed off her short hair.

“Do you like it? It was starting to become a bit of a hassle to take care of it and I thought it was time for a change.”

THAT’S WHY SHE SEEMED FAMILIAR, Claude just didn’t recognize her with the new haircut.

Upon hearing Mercede’s voice, Sylvain released his death grip on Dimitri and stumbled over to her.

“BABY!” he shouted as he fell into her arms

“Hello to you too dear.” Mercedes said with a smile

She then turned to the three, “I hope Sylvain didn’t give you three too much trouble.”

“N-not at all. He merely wanted to let us know about the engagement and celebrate. Congratulations by the way.” said Dimitri

“Let us know when you figure out a wedding date alright?” said Edelgard

Mercedes nodded.

“We will, thank you. I’ll be taking him home now. Good night everyone.”

As Mercedes started to walk towards the exit with Sylvain’s arm draped around her shoulders, Claude stood up.

“Hey wait Mercie!”

“Hm? Oh, Claude. What is it?”

“This… might be a weird question but… do you… happen to have a co-worker who’s a… woman with blue hair and glasses?”

===

“Okay so let me get the story straight. You were at the library, one of the kids that Mercie watches over knocked you flat on your ass and you fell in love with her co-worker when she checked on you?”

Claude glared at Sylvain, “Aside from the “falling in love part,” yeah you got it down.”

So it turned out that Mercedes was co-workers with Mystery Teach in an After-School Program. After Claude explained his situation, Mercedes offered to let Sylvain drive him to the school that she worked at to meet her co-worker, Byleth. 

Gods did it feel good to FINALLY have a name to work with.

“You know… since I’m picking up Mercedes, if both girls are up for it, we can do a double date right away.”

“Just shut up and drive.”

The two stayed quiet for the rest of the ride (though not for lack of trying on Sylvain’s part) until they finally arrived at the school.

Claude could hear the kids further down the hall, guess Mercedes and Byleth weren’t off the clock just yet. Thus he and Sylvain sat down on a nearby bench.

He chuckled and Sylvain looked at him curiously.

“Oh just… sitting out here kinda makes me think of my own school days. Like I’m waiting for the Principal to come out and lecture me for releasing a stink bomb in the gym.”

“Whoa, really?” Sylvain asked with a laugh

“In my defense, it wasn’t supposed to go off at that moment; the casing was just badly made.”

The two made small talk as they watched parents come in and out with their kids.

Claude always liked people watching but he’d never seen such… interesting characters.

Like the guy who looked like he stepped out of a comic book, his wife who looked like she could bench press DIMITRI, and their kid who looked like the dad’s sidekick.

Then there’s the father+daughter duo wearing toy fox ears and making, he’s assuming, fox noises as they went down the hall.

A few more minutes passed by when a little voice shouted out, “Hey Mister!”

Claude turned to the voice and saw that same silver haired boy who ran into him.

“Oh well look who it is. You doing alright kid? Listening to your Teach, I hope?”

The boy, Kana, he thinks Byleth called him, nods and smiles.

“Uh-huh. Are you here to see Ms. Byleth?”

“Heh, aren’t you a smart kid. Yup, just here say hi to her.”

“...Are you marrying Ms. Byleth?”

Claude’s eyes widened as he let out a choked noise and Sylvain let out a laugh.

“Kana!”

Approaching them all was a friendly looking guy with silver hair, a woman with red hair that Claude could only describe as “fluffy,” and a slightly older red haired girl.

“Hi mama!”

The little boy rushed into his mom’s arms and was lifted up. The woman sighed and faced Claude and Sylvain.

“I’m sorry, I hope he wasn’t bothering you.”

“N-nah, it’s… it���s fine.” Claude said, trying to hide the red on his face

The redheaded woman nodded and started to walk away with her family while the boy waved good-bye to Claude.

“Bye-bye Mister!”

As soon as that family was out the doors, Sylvain shot Claude a shit-eating grin.

“Smart kid right?”

Claude said nothing as he glared at him.

A couple more families came and went and Claude was starting to nervously tap his foot on the floor. The longer the two waited, the more chances Claude had to overthink.

Did Byleth even remember what happened at the library? Would she just stare at him blankly if he tried to explain who he was? Would she think he was some stalker?

Thankfully before Claude could further give himself a panic attack, two women stepped out from one of the rooms.

Mercedes… and Byleth.

Sylvain of course practically jumped off the bench and ran over to greet his fianceé while Byleth stood to the side and watched the two in amusement.

Well… now or never. Claude stood up, took a deep breath, put on his most charming smile, and approached her; being very careful not to startle her.

“Hey Teach.”

Byleth turned to him. At first she looked confused but a spark of recognition quickly lit her eyes.

“Oh, it’s you, the man from the library. Are you doing alright? No bumps? No dizziness or anything?”

“I told you before, I’m fine. You don’t need to call a doc or anything. The name’s Claude by the way.” he replied with a laugh as he offered his hand

“I’m Byleth and sorry about that. The double checking’s become a force of habit. My roommate can tell you plenty of stories about me slipping into what she calls “Teacher Talk” to her.” She said as she took his hand and shook it

“Heh well maybe if you got the time, we can sit down for a drink or some coffee and you can tell me all about it?”

Byleth gave him that same smile that he couldn’t stop thinking about.

“I’d love to.”

[yangholic]

Peephole | Six

word count: 1,728 warnings: graphic description of a panic attack, swearing

a/n: I know it’s been almost 3 months since I’ve updated, but I’m finally in a better headspace now.I’m hoping to be able to update at least once more before my graduation in May, and then I’ll have way more free time over the summer (until grad school starts ;n;) Also, I wrote and edited this chapter while listening to Tame Impala’s song “Love/Paranoia” on repeat. I highly recommend. 

•·················•·················•

“Good morning, Miss Y/N. My name

 is ̷̢̞͙̝͉̭̩͈̲͓͈̘̬̤̗̃̓D̸̩̒͛etective Kim Namjoon, 

from the Š̴̈́̋eoul metropolitan p̷͂̈́͘o̴͑lį̴̩̭͚̫͙̤͖̹́̄ͅc̷e department.

May I ask you a few questions 

concerning your next-door 

neighbor

Le̸͇͎͖̥̮̻̯̰̤̰̟̜̊͒́̑͑̒̈́̈́͊̄͠͝͝e Jiḿ̵̛̜̮͙͙̩̖̊͒̓̀̒̍͠i̴̢̪̖̼̗͇͚̼̖̺͎̬̫̝͛́͛̀́̆̋͜͝ņ̸̋̇͌̾́?”

An unsettling chill crawled down your spine, causing your body to shudder involuntarily.

The police.

Suddenly, you felt like you could no longer breathe. The walls around you began to concave, squeezing all the air out of your lungs. Your surroundings seemed to be growing larger, wider, more menacing— making you feel small, lost, scared. Your hands balled into fists, the muscles clenched so tightly that your joints felt stiff. The surge of adrenaline didn’t help your fight-or-flight responses. You only felt like throwing up.  

The police.

Jimin.

“Miss, are you okay?” The officer evidently seemed to detect your panic attack, his expression showing concern. You swallowed the bile that crept up your throat and grimaced at it’s pungent, acidic taste. The physical discomfort you were suffering was the least of your concerns— in fact, Jimin was at the forefront of your mind. Although you had a fundamental disagreement with his lifestyle, there was no denying that Jimin was the only person who gave you any sort of attention. You loved him, perhaps not all of him, yet, but your feelings were so profound that you would do almost anything and everything for him. You would even go so far as to mislead the authorities if it meant keeping him safe.

You removed the privacy chain from its lock but kept the door slightly ajar, with only enough space for you to have a conversation from the doorway. “Sorry I’m an, um, agoraphobic,” you lied easily. “I don’t really get visitors, and when I do, I uh… Get kind of nervous.” Namjoon’s face softened as he gave you a sympathetic smile, assuring he wouldn’t take up too much of your time. “You had me worried there for a second! I promise I won’t take up too much of your time.”

“Thank you, officer,” you replied bashfully, avoiding eye-contact with the dimpled man. Namjoon leafed through the small booklet, clearing his throat only when he reached a fresh page. “First off, I would like to know how long you’ve lived in this unit.”

“Oh, um… I think around 6 months or so.” The detective nodded as he jotted down your answer before posing another question, “Have you ever noticed any suspicious activity from the Lee residence? Please don’t feel like you need to withhold any information, even if it’s as minor as a noise complaint. Every little bit counts.” Running a hand through your hair, you formulated a response that excluded any explicit mention of Jimin, but still upheld his innocence. “Well, he’s a pretty good neighbor for the most part. I’ve never had any issues with him because I usually keep to myself, you know?” Namjoon quirked an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “So you’ve never actually seen Mr. Lee? Or know a rough estimate of his daily schedule?” You swallowed, thick saliva balling in your throat. A response, and a poor one at that, was poised on the end of your tongue when a familiar platinum tuft of hair came around the corner of the hallway.

The devil himself: Jimin.

Oh, shit.

In his hands were two canvas bags full of groceries, and his body gave off a nice pearly sheen. He had probably stopped by the market after a workout— or perhaps something more nefarious— and picked up groceries on the way home. The domesticity of his gesture would have melted you into a puddle, if it were not for the fact you were being interrogated by the police. Jimin chuckled, breaking the heavy silence. “What’s this about me? I don’t like gossip, you know.”

The detective refocused his attention on his suspect, who was now sporting blonde hair, much unlike the outdated graduation photo he was given by his superior. Namjoon cleared his throat, reaching his hand out in a friendly gesture. “Kim Namjoon, lead investigative detective with the Seoul PD.” Jimin dropped the bags and accepted the outstretched hand without an ounce of worry or precaution, Namjoon noting how tight the young man’s grip really was. How looks could be deceiving.

Continuing, the officer explained the situation at hand. “Anyway, I was asking your neighbor here,” he gestured towards you with a flourish of his penned hand, “If she knew your schedule by any chance, so you and I could get a chance to talk. You happened to pop in at just the right time, Mr. Lee. Mind if we have a chat?” For the first time since his arrival, Jimin looked at you, and his eyes pierced right through your soul. It was a silent threat, a warning, making you cower. Ever perceptive as always, Namjoon noticed the exchange between the two of you and surmised that there was a secret connection between you and Lee Jimin that you had not disclosed, and he sought to instigate in hopes of gaining more information. Before he could query you some more, you began slipping behind your door, “Well, if that’s all you needed me for, officer, I’ll be going.”

Just then, a devious idea came to Jimin’s mind, and he decided to play his role well. “Get some rest jagiya, I know you must be tired after last night.” The dancer winked lasciviously, insinuating a sexual innuendo that had never happened. Namjoon took the bait, feigning confusion at this divulsion of information. “Do you two… know each other? Miss L/N informed me you had no relationship except for sharing an adjoining wall.” With eyes still glued to you, Jimin’s lips stretched into a conniving smile, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Wait, did Y/N not tell you? We’re actually dating!”

Namjoon had gathered just as much— there was definitely either a romantic or, at the very least, an unrequited relationship between you and his suspect. He could tell by the nonverbal manner in which the two of you interacted. But what puzzled him was the fact that you seemed absolutely terrified of Jimin. Your body language made that obvious enough: avoidance of eye contact, nervousness, escapism. Nevertheless, detective Kim Namjoon played the fool. “Oh? Really now?” He peeked at you from the corner of his hooded eyes, “Miss, you made it seem like Mr. Lee was just your neighbor.”

“Ah, well, I,” you began, stuttering under the intense amount of pressure. Jimin stepped in, his right hand snaking through your hair. “Yeah, my baby has really bad anxiety, you know? She was probably too shy to say anything, right?” At his insistence, Jimin lightly dug his nails into your scalp in another attempt to sway your response, prompting you to squeeze your eyes shut in submission. A sad smile— one of defeat— spread across your lips as you leaned into your boyfriend’s touch.

“Yeah, we’re...together.”

You truly were weak for Lee Jimin. How was it so easy to love someone who was not capable of normal, human emotions? If he was all kinds of fucked up, then so were you.

Detective Kim corrected some of his notes before fishing in his jacket pocket for a business card. “I see there must have been some sort of miscommunication. How about I stop by again tomorrow?” He hummed contemplatively, and scrawled a time on the eggshell white cardstock, “Same time as today if that’s okay?” Namjoon handed the card to you, holding on to the end for a bit too long as he said his goodbyes. “Please call if you need anything.” It was as if those words were directed specifically at you— as if he knew you were involuntarily tethered to Jimin.

Namjoon retreated down the hallway, an intense feeling of foreboding creeping up his spine. In his four years of service as an officer, and three as a detective, he had never felt this amount of fear on the job. This Jimin character was not who he appeared to be, and Namjoon would lay it all on the line to see him stopped. Rounding the corner, he caught sight of the nondescript, government-issued black Hyundai. Looking both ways before crossing the street, Namjoon strutted over towards the passenger door and slid into the leather seat. His partner, a spry, fresh-faced rookie was fiddling around on his cellphone, paying little attention to the detective.

“How’d it go, Namjoon?”

“Hyung,” Namjoon corrected, “And it was alright, didn’t get much out of the neighbors. Met the perp, though. This guy gives me a bad feeling,” the dark-haired man sighed. “He’s creepy as hell.” The young man in the driver's seat shot up, his eyes sparkling at the information. “You met the perp!?” Namjoon chuckled at his partner’s naiveté, “You know this job isn’t like cop movies, right, Jeongguk?”

Jeongguk’s tongue poked through his cheek in annoyance, clearly unamused at Namjoon’s sarcasm. “I know that, hyung. But I didn’t think I saw him walk by, I was just surprised.” The older man jostled his partner’s shoulder, “That’s because you were playing games on your phone, kid.” That elicited a pout from Jeongguk, who timidly slid his phone back into his vest pocket. Namjoon continued, “Also, Jimin dyed his hair. He’s blonde now. Couldn’t get a picture, but I’m sure Bang-sunbaenim will want us to do some surveillance so we can update the file.”

Namjoon retrieved a pair of reading glasses from the glove compartment and slid them onto the bridge of his nose. “I can’t put my finger on it, but everything about him is just too perfect. It may just be a hunch, but he’s definitely our guy— The Archangel.” Jeongguk inserted the keys in the ignition and started the car, a dull hum filling the cabin space. “You know, hyung, cases like this don’t get solved because people have ‘hunches’. They get solved becas—” Namjoon interrupted his subordinate, eyebrows furrowed in frustration at the indecipherable mess he had messily scrawled in his notepad. “Yeah, yeah, they’re solved because of the hard work of the police department.”

“Good, I was under the impression you might’ve thought this job was like a cop movie or something,” Jeongguk quipped with a toothy grin. Namjoon playfully ruffled his partner’s mousy hair, “Smartass.”

•·················•·················•

SUSPECT:

Park Jimin- Under the alias “Lee Jimin”, manipulative, cunning, unfiltered, secretive, romantically involved with alibi (untrustworthy defense)

PERSON OF INTEREST:

L/N Y/N- alibi, showed signs of mental and emotional abuse, possible stockholm syndrome (?)

•·················•·················•

As Jeongguk peeled out of the parking spot, Namjoon glanced back up at the apartment building, trying to gather his thoughts. What exactly was your relationship with Jimin? And just how much did you know?

prev | next

[papa-rhys]

Return (Javier X Reader)

Note: Have a lil cutesy reunion with Javier after he comes home from guarma, courtesy of me. Enjoy!

Category: fluff

Warnings: none

Word count: 1853

You’ve been the de facto leader of the Van der Linde gang for just over 3 weeks now and with each day spent waiting for the boys’ return, the gang grow less and less hopeful that they’ll come back at all. You all stand to lose a lot if they never come home, since you all care for those boys greatly, and without Dutch, the gang may not be able to move much further forward than this. But you have your heart tied up in the boys’ venture across the seas. See, Javier has taken ownership of that tender organ that beats at your core and you’re scared you’ll grow cold without it, should you never see him again.

You and Sadie have worked particularly hard these past few weeks; both of you feeling a niggling desire to prove yourselves to the few that think that Dutch has left them in incapable hands. With Pinkertons breathing down your necks, you’d had to flee from the old rickety mansion at Shady Belle – not really a sore loss, considering the state of the place, but at least it was better than the unforgiving hellhole that you find yourselves in now. Lakay, Lemoyne: where the foulest creatures on earth come to rot in swamp water and other unspeakable gunk. You suppose there’s some comparison to be had between those creatures and yourselves, but that’s a thought that you can’t spare the time for right now.

You sit on the porch of one of these horrid little houses that you’d… respectfully relieved the previous owners of. It may be a living nightmare in these parts – filled with alligators and bugs and the elusive Night Folk – but at least it’s quiet. Although you think that’s more likely to be due to Micah not being here, rather than the location itself. It’s just gone sunset and the sky behind the trees is turning a darker shade of purple with each minute. That makes yet another day without any sign of the boys and you can feel your faith dwindling down closer to mere embers every time you’re forced to go to bed alone.

“Y/N?” Charles’ voice speaks from behind you, warm and soft in its tone.

You turn to look over your shoulder as you sit in your chair with your feet up on the railing that encompasses the deck. “Oh hey,” you sigh, giving him a weak smile.

He steps up onto the deck and makes his way over to where you sit, pulling up another chair and sitting beside you. “Sadie went into town and picked up some supplies for us. Pearson’s fixin’ some food now.”

“That’s great,” you nod. “Folks could use some proper food. I’m getting’ sick of alligator eggs.”

“Yeah, me too,” Charles chuckles. There’s a short silence before he speaks again. The two of you look out into the swamp and you wonder if this place gives Charles the creeps as much as it does you. “They’ll come back,” he tells you and you turn your head to find him already looking at you. “Javier knows what he’s doin’. He’s with Dutch and Arthur… he’ll be okay.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Maybe.”

“Y/N!” Sadie’s voice whispers from the shack next to the one you sit on the porch of. You look to her and she’s crouched down with a rifle in her hand, pointing out towards the trail that leads into this tiny cluster of houses. “We got company.”

Charles hands you his rifle and pulls his sawed-off from the holster at his hip. Keeping quiet, you both slide out of your chairs and drop to the floor and you signal for him to go around the right side of the shack whilst you take the left side; both of you staying low as you move into position. You’d all prepared for this; Pinkertons, cops, whoever is it. It was only a matter of time before they found you again and since Dutch and the others so kindly left you all to handle things yourselves, you’d wasted no time training up the less combat-ready members of the group.

You pull up your rifle and aim it steady, focusing completely on the figure that slowly approaches through the darkness as if it were the only thing on earth. The figure is unrecognisable among the fog and poor lighting of the swamp and whoever it is keeps quiet on their approach, hobbling down the trail on a seemingly injured leg.

“Who is it?” Karen’s voice whispers.

You turn to find the rest of the gang hidden low in the windows of the main building; all armed and ready to fight since the gang is down 5 of its best fighters.

“We can’t see ‘em yet,” you respond, keeping a keen eye on the figure as it continues to limp forward.

You watch as they move closer and you lower your weapon and squint to get a better look at the man you’re seeing. He’s dressed in a tattered dress shirt that used to be bright white but is now a shade of grey. He looks beaten and weathered and he’s sporting a bloody bandage wrapped around his leg as he limps into the centre of the clearing. You take a sharp breath in and hold it, waiting for confirmation that he’s real.

“It’s Javier!” Sadie calls out.

“Oh my god,” you say through an exhale of relief. Charles and Sadie stand up straight and the gang spill out of the shack at the end of the trail as you rush down the steps of the deck, dropping your rifle in the mud as you run towards Javier.

He greets you with his arms open and he catches you as you collide with him, throwing your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder. “Hola,” he says, rubbing gentle circles on your back with the palm of his hand.

You lift your head from the torn-up fabric on his shoulder and cup his face with both your hands, planting a kiss on his lips. “I thought you were dead,” you tell him, repeating the phrase a few times. “I thought you were dead.”

The gang approach the spot where the two of you stand and your attention is pulled away from Javier as the others swoop in to welcome him home. “What happened there?” Charles asks, nodding his head towards Javier’s injured leg as he pulls him into a brief hug.

“Got shot,” Javier states, causing your heart to beat faster with fear.

“C’mon, let’s get you inside,” Charles says and the two of you help Javier walk over to the main building to get fixed up.

You carefully wrap a fresh dressing around Javier’s leg, being as gentle as possible as he holds a lantern over you so you can see what you’re doing. The two of you sit opposite each other on wooden chairs in the corner of the room, tucked away from everyone else whilst you fix up Javier’s leg properly. Whoever has bandaged him up overseas hadn’t done a very good job at cleaning the wound first, but you suppose they didn’t have much in the way of resources, so you’ll excuse them if and when they return. Javier had told you of Dutch’s plan to arrive home separately as you’d stitched up the bullet hole in his leg. Well, he’d explained the plan between obscenities and gasps, but you’d caught the gist of it, at least. All you can do is wait and hope that the others made it too, but for now you’re happy enough with Javier.

“Looks like you make a good leader, mi amor,” Javier smiles, watching you intently as you dress his wound. “Everyone looks better cared for than when we left.”

“Yeah, hopefully Dutch doesn’t feel too threatened by me when he gets back,” you joke. “We might have to fist-fight for dominance.”

“I think that’d be the first fight that I’d bet against Dutch in.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that.”

“It’s okay, he’s a few miles away. I don’t think he can hear us from here.”

You shake your head with a wide smile as Javier throws his head back and chuckles at his own joke, causing the lantern to swing above you as he does so. “Will you keep that lantern still?” you giggle.

He reaches his other arm up to steady it until it’s still again. “My arm’s getting tired. Are you nearly done?”

You tuck the end of the bandage into itself and smooth it out gently with your fingers. “I’m done,” you smile and Javier leans forward in his seat to kiss you.

The kiss starts out as a peck, but the two of you quickly come to realise that after so long apart, neither of you are satisfied with a measly peck on the lips. The kiss deepens as Javier lowers the lantern and places it on the floor beside his chair before curling his fingers around your waist and pulling you forward out of your chair and onto his lap. “Careful,” you tell him, breaking the kiss as he wraps his arms around you and holds you tightly; kissing your shoulder once or twice for good measure. “Your leg.”

“Ay, I’m okay,” he assures you. “If I can’t have my love sit in my lap and nurse me back to health then what was the point in coming home at all?”

“Oh, behave,” you smile. You rub your fingers up the underside of his waistcoat collar and pull them back to find them covered in mud that they’d collected from underneath the fabric. “What the hell did you boys get up too out there?” you ask, your laugh mixing with the horrified look on your face to form a combination that Javier finds most amusing. You flick the mud off your fingers and wipe them on the front of his shirt.

“Oh, I’m sorry we didn’t get the chance to wash our clothes after we were shipwrecked,” he laughs, adjusting you in his lap. “We were kinda busy with other things.”

“My god,” you gasp, your smile dropping as you look him in the eye.

“What?” he asks, concern washing over his features.

“Javier Escuella without access to clean clothes…”

“Ay, ay, okay,” Javier nods, grinning and rolling his eyes as he realises the trap you just laid out for him.

“You must have suffered so badly,” you tease, pinching his cheek. “I can’t believe those nasty boys dragged you all the way out there into the wilderness with only one outfit. How could they be so cruel?”

“You’re real sympathetic,” Javier says sarcastically. “You know I got shot, right?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll never let me forget it,” you rib, snaking your hands up his chest and wrapping your fingers around the nape of his neck.

“You should be waiting on me hand and foot.”

“You should be so lucky,” you retort, leaning in closer.

“I don’t feel very lucky,” he says quietly with a feigned pout.

“Well lets see about changing that, shall we?” you whisper, your lips brushing against his as you speak the words before kissing him once more.

[allyvampirelass29]

Chapter 4: We Are HEROES

A HEROES Fanfiction   Angel Before the Fall Series By: Allyssa J. Watkins

Peter Petrelli held on as tight as he could to the inconsolable girl in his arms, but she was so crazed and  frightened, he was really struggling. "Whoah, HEY!!!" He yelled, trying not to fly sideways into a building, as she kicked and pulled away, frantic. Poor girl, very nearly Sylar's afternoon entrée from the looks of things, as he'd soared in and snatched her out of Sylar's claws just in time, Noah, so banged up and bloodied, he must have been the appetizer. Peter knew, first-hand, both the scarring physical and psychological trauma Sylar Gray hungered to inflict just for the hell of it. He got into your head........ had his sadistic fun, and then he....... got into your head, literally. When he was bored, the world was his own personal playground. No one was safe. MAN, did he do a number on this one. She looked young, maybe early twenties, her green eyes wild and panicked. Peter felt bad for her, trying not to imagine the horrors she'd just faced, prey to Sylar's ungodly whims. Actually, he, himself, still wasn't over that first encounter in Mohinder's apartment three years ago. That overwhelming nausea as Sylar drew his finger across his forehead, the searing pain, the blood dripping, a dark lock of his bangs, severed and fluttering to his feet. Nobody gets over that.......

He was still pissed at Parkman for outright lying to him, pissed at Noah for getting him all tangled up in Sylar's sticky, twisted web AGAIN, but the important thing here, was that this girl would get to live another day, and another set of powers would be safe from Sylar's greedy finger. He held onto her tighter, trying to keep her still, so relieved to finally see the familiar white van, with PRIMATECH spelled out in red lettering on the side. Yeah, maybe a high flying rescue wasn't the best thing for someone who's just come within an inch of her life. He landed extra gently, worried about her, grabbing both of her shoulders. "Hey, stop, it's okay! Shhh, you gotta calm down!" He'd expected her to collapse into tears, hug him, fall to the ground, hyperventilate, God knows he'd spent enough time with people who'd had their razor's edge brush with death both as a nurse and a paramedic. He always marveled at how people reacted in such different ways to being saved, but what happened next caught him entirely off guard. Her right hook landed hard against his shoulder, and he stepped backward, slack jawed.

"Who are you!? What are you doing!? Let go of me, where is he!?!? What did they do with him!?"

"Watch it!!! Geez!!! I'm only the person that just saved you from becoming a part of Sylar's collection of human PEZ dispensers!!!" Peter yelled, rubbing his shoulder, still taken aback.

"Where is he!?!? Where's Sylar!?!?" The girl was in a frenzy, her anger, wounded, and Peter stared at her puzzled, as he heard the sliding doors of the van flung open.

"Relax, he's gone. You're safe now. He can't hurt you anymore! I just saved you, and you can thank me by not hitting me again! My mother told me never to hit a girl, so it wouldn't be much of a fair fight anyway."

"Did they take him!?!? Did they hurt him!?!?"

"Who, Sylar? No, not yet, but they will, I promise you! He'll pay!"

Peter grabbed her just as she went to push him away, her face furious. "NOOO!!!! Oh my god, WHO are you!?"

"Watch it! I'm Peter. Peter Petrelli, again the guy that just saved your life!"

Her face turned white, and she looked more scared than ever, backing away as if he'd just said, "My name is Sylar, and I'm your killer, nice to see you again, how would you like to die today?"

"P-Petrelli? Like..... Nathan Petrelli? Like the corrupt senator hunting ALL of us!?" Ally stammered, eyes wide, wishing Sy had been fast enough to pull her out of the sky.

"Hey! He's my brother, and he's not corrupt, just...... confused."

"If your backstabbing brother or Noah, or ANY of your freaking Company lay one hand on Sy-"

"Wait..... WHAT!? Sy..... as in SYLAR? You're worried about SYLAR, as in the SERIAL KILLER that almost ripped your head open!?"

Peter looked at the girl, aghast, completely confounded and it was then he noticed the needle poised over her shoulder.

"Noah, what the HELL are you-?"

Ally screamed and swiftly evaded the sharp tip, slamming right into Peter, and again he fought to hold her still.

"Peter this is bigger than your rules and your morals, do NOT let her go!!!!"

"Noah, what are you talking about!? Put that AWAY, we just rescued her, and you seriously want to tranq her!?!?

Peter grunted, barely holding her back, grabbing both of her forearms, and then suddenly it hit him full force, and he was pissed all over again. Dang it, Parkman!!! You, LIAR!!!

"Your name is Ally, isn't it? Sylar's girl?" Peter watched her slightly relent in her struggle, and he glared furiously at Noah, his lip quivering with his rage.

"Peter, it's not what you think. This girl-"

"Damn it, Noah, I told you both before!!! I'm not interested in kidnapping an innocent girl, torturing, and using her as bait, even if it means we don't bag him today. We pull that, and we're just as bad as he is!!!"

Ally yanked herself away, running like hell, and Peter flinched as something came flying past the side of his head, hitting Ally in the shoulder blade, embedding itself in her skin, and Noah sprinted to catch her, as she fell hard, instantly unconscious.

Bewildered, Peter whirled around to see Parkman, tranq gun resting on his shoulder, still aimed.

"You're both INSANE!!!!! Look at you!!! I don't want ANY part in this!!! We should be working together to get my brother on our side before we all get shipped off to separate ghettos, not abducting young women because of their unfortunate taste in partners!!!! She didn't hurt anybody! She doesn't deserve this!!!"

"Aiding and abetting, Peter. Not to mention, probably actual..... bedding."

"Oh God, Bennet, thanks for that image. That's a crime in of itself," Parkman made a face, looking deeply disturbed.

"She's helping an extremely dangerous and unhinged killer escape capture, that makes her an accomplice in my book. She's a criminal, Peter. It's the law, and sometimes you have to do things you never talk about again, if you want to be a hero. It's not all damsels in distress. Sometimes the damsels cause the distress."

Peter sighed. This was certifiable. "No torture, I mean it."

"What?!? Who said anything about torture? What am I, KGB? I'm a father, Peter, not an executioner."

"You remember, she's somebody's Claire too." Peter stared down Noah accusingly, as he watched him hoist the unconscious brunette onto his shoulder.

"Alright. Fair enough. You in, or do you want me to call your big brother to come pick you up?"

"Do you ever get sick of playing both sides, Bennet? Fine. I'm in. On the condition that after we get Sylar, she goes free, and then we focus on Nathan. I'm too old to be doing this, playing hide and seek with my own brother."

"Deal. You want to get in the van, or are you enjoying your flight?"

Peter grumbled something under his breath as he climbed in the van.

Noah carried a rag doll Ally to the back, and Parkman followed.

"Is it too late to call shotgun? You know I can read your mind, right? You're not going to let her go, are you?"

Noah laid her in the back, and slammed the door. "No, I'm not. This girl is the miracle we've been waiting for, the key to preventing a genocide. No matter what happens, I'm not letting her out of my sight. By the way....... How DID you get Peter Pan to come? I mean, I know you used your powers, but what did you tell him?

"That a girl was pinned down, helpless, getting beaten up in the alley, and needed a hero........."

**********

"Why does he get to drive? You both know that I'm a cop, right? I should be driving."

Peter smiled to himself, hands on the wheel.

"Smirking, see, he's smirking at me."

"I will turn this van around!" Peter called out, trying not to laugh."

"Hilarious. You're hilarious, Fly Boy!"

"I'm sorry, did I do anything wrong officer?"

"Will you two BOTH shut UP!!!" Noah yelled from the back seat, carefully guiding the needle through his skin without so much as a wince. "This is a serious takedown op, not a school field trip! Parkman, Peter is driving because we need to blend in, and you cop, or not, always show off using your powers, making people see things, or stopping all of the cars at once. I have to get to the outpost, I don't have time for you to act like a hot shot."

"How are we supposed to blend in when you know the first thing somebody's going to do, is pull him over and ask for his permit?"

"You wanna go, Professor X?"

Peter took the next left hard, and slammed the brakes, Parkman nearly hitting his head on the passenger side window.

"Assaulting an officer!"

"Not yet, I'm not!"

"I will USE that sedative on both of you, I mean it!!! Peter, less fast and furious please, I can stitch myself up in a moving vehicle, but not in a swerving one. Thanks to our slice-happy friend Sylar, I've got my work cut out for me."

"Noah, wait, you don't have to do that. We packed some of Claire's blood in the cooler, just in case," Peter said softly, for the first time taking notice of the bloody laceration down the length of Noah's arm. Thirteen stitches at least."

"Peter, I am NOT taking an injection of my own daughter's blood, and sponging off her powers. What do you think Sylar does with Ally? I won't use her like that, and who's damn fool idea was it to bring it along, I want names!!!!"

Peter and Parkman exchanged glances, and both spoke at the same time.

"Claire's."

Noah's anger softened, and he arched his eyebrows before he went back to sewing, dabbing the fresh blood with a cloth.

"She's worried about you, Man. Frankly, we are too." Peter said gently, stopping extra careful at the next light.

"Tell her thanks, but no thanks. I won't do it. It's my job to worry about her, not the other way around. I don't want anyone taking her blood again. She's not some miracle drug."

"At least let me patch you up, I was a nurse and now I'm a paramedic, it'd be a cinch. I wouldn't even charge you," Peter smiled, trying to lighten the dark mood that Noah was battling with.

"I appreciate that Peter, but I've been fixing myself up since before you were born."

"Noah Bennet, Company Man, Suburban Dad, and Bad Ass Action Hero."

Noah cracked a bit of a smile. "Smart kids, you Petrelli Boys. Now, just drive."

Parkman had gotten really quiet, but he couldn't take it anymore. He had to know, and not from pulling the answer from Noah's mind. He had to hear it from his own mouth.

"What would you have done...... Noah. What the actual HELL would you have done, if he'd killed her, and taken her powers? You wouldn't have just put blood in the water, you'd have it on your hands, forever."

"I'm sorry, WHAT!? What's he talking about?" Peter looked over his shoulder confused and deeply disturbed. "Why would Sylar try to kill his own girlfriend?"

"Because I made him. I stirred up the desire, I gave him NO choice by telling him everything about her powers. And damn it, I'd do it again."

"What the HELL, Noah!? WHAT kind of messed up kamikaze play is that!?"

"It was the only one we had, Peter. I knew Parkman could get you there, and I needed a stall tactic. I was never going to let him do it, I just needed her to turn on him. I needed him to bare his teeth. Surprise, surprise. It didn't work.

"Wait....... you're saying....... that blood lusting MONSTER stopped himself, even after knowing what she could do? It's impossible. I took his power that one time, Noah, once he's got the scent, he's off his leash, he physically can't control it. I attacked my own mother for God's sake!!!!"

"He must have quite the puppy eyes for her then. He struggled hard, he wanted it, but fought it, I could tell, it took all of his strength but he eventually won. If he hadn't, I would have put a bullet in her leg to snap him out of it."

"I'm sorry, and what if he'd continued his killing joke with you?" Parkman asked, stunned, eyes wide.

"Again, bullet to the leg. Her immediate danger would have distracted him from his vindictive vendetta against me. Luckily we got a chance to take her quietly, and now we can finally draw him out, on our own turf, use his leading lady against him, and put that murdering psychopath down once and for all. He's distracted when he's with her, I've seen it. He won't be thinking clearly, and he won't want to scare her again. She's the Achille's heel, he didn't used to have, a vulnerability we can use. If there was ever a time to strike hard, it's now that he's on the ropes. He won't leave her, and THAT will be his inevitable downfall."

"Quietly? Noah, he's going to be PISSED, like serious kill all our families, drown the whole world in BLOOD, Apocalypse Now PISSED!!!! He's a wounded animal with nothing left to lose, backed into a corner!!!! Oh GOD, what about Claire!?"

"Claire's safe, Peter." That's the first thing I took care of before I came after them. No, I'm not going to tell you where, just in case this thing goes south. Plausible deniability. If you don't know, he can't force it out of you."

The whole van went silent all the joking and clever quips from before, evaporated in the heat of what they were about to face. Running right into the fire.

"I'm still mad that you lied to me. Both of you. I told you I was done with this life, and was going to stay as far the hell away from Sylar as I could get. But I'm in this now, as much as I've tried to avoid this road, I always find myself here, picked up by the two of you, or in the old days, Nathan. If we're going to do this, we have to trust each other. No more lying, no more manipulation, no more half baked suicide missions, no more hidden agendas. We are HEROES. It's time we start acting like it.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 

[queenmorgawse]

dead and gone so long (seventeen’s so gone)

for #sangchengweek2019 on twitter, day 6 : jazz/noir, ft. detective jc and speakeasy singer nhs in 20s new york city. some soundtrack if that’s your thing! read on ao3 for end notes.

The Nightless City is as Jiang Cheng remembers it : loud and gaudy, its red silks smelling of expensive alcohol and tobacco and perfume.

Some of the patrons throw him suspicious glances as he elbows his way through the crowd. Even dressed like any of the undercover businessmen who usually frequent this place, he must look too much like a cop for their liking. Jiang Cheng pays them no mind, instead making a beeline for one of the few seats left unoccupied on this Saturday night. It’s tucked into a corner, a bit too close to the stage for the view to be all that great, but he’s in no condition to be picky.

So he does as he’s always done in these kinds of places ⎯ he plops down on the chair, pushes down his hat to cast a shadow over his eyes, and tries to look mean enough that no one will bother to come over and try to start a conversation. ( Sure enough, a few flappers throw interested glances at him through their mascaraed lashes, but a glare or two sends them scurrying off in a flurry of glittering skirts, chirping indignantly among themselves. )

The crowd oohs and aahs when the lights start to dim, bathing the speakeasy in soft hues of red and pink. Jiang Cheng feels like he’s sitting in the heart of a rose, his surroundings turning hazy and faraway.  

Heels click on the polished wood of the platform at the same time the orchestra plays its very first chords, now in absolute silence. Limelight flashes bright as the sun, and by the time Jiang Cheng finishes blinking white spots out of his eyes, a silhouette is standing in the middle of the stage, as poised as if they were there all along.

Nie Huaisang is a vision in gold, the dramatic shadow he casts on the wall behind him making him look larger than life. The lustrous fabric flows down his sides like water, outlining his waist and thighs and oh, that is definitely a corset under there, Jiang Cheng notes, his mouth suddenly dry. His amber eyes are lined in kohl, even sharper and deeper than they usually are. When his gaze sweeps across the room, Jiang Cheng could swear something smolders in his clear irises, and it takes his breath away. Everything is too loud, too much, his own heartbeat a war drum in his ears.  

Then Nie Huaisang smiles at the patrons, wraps a gloved hand around the stand of his microphone and starts to sing.

His voice rings through the speakeasy, soft and husky, heady as honeyed wine. It folds around the audience like a silk scarf, drawing them close until each spectator feels like he’s singing for them and them alone.

With a jolt, Jiang Cheng realizes how much he’s forgotten in just a handful of years, and how much is coming back in waves, nestling back into place in the hollow spaces between his ribs. He sits still, so mesmerized by the shape of Nie Huaisang’s mouth, red as sin, that he almost misses the moment when their gazes meet.

To his credit, Nie Huaisang doesn’t waver. From an onlooker’s point of view, nothing truly changes, but Jiang Cheng sees the singer’s eyes widen ever so slightly, the smallest flicker of his easy confidence. He holds on, staring back with growing determination. Nie Huaisang is the first to look away, nonchalant as ever, as if nothing happened at all.

-

As it is, Jiang Cheng quickly confirms that confidence was mostly fake when Nie Huaisang marches up to him a few minutes after stepping off the stage to thunderous applause and countless bouquets of flowers. The other grabs him by the collar with surprising strength, dragging him down to face level. “What the hell are you doing here?” he hisses into Jiang Cheng’s ear. “I thought we agreed to stay out of each other’s lanes.”

To be fair, there was no such agreement, since it would imply they spoke even once after that last fateful argument ⎯ only the implication that things didn’t need to get uglier than they already were, and thus they’d better keep to their own parts of the city. Jiang Cheng would point it out, except he’s not here to pick a fight. Instead, he says : “I’ve got a lead on what happened to your brother.”

In the moment that follows, he knows he’s won. Nie Huaisang’s death grip slackens, his hand dropping from Jiang Cheng’s neck. “...What about my brother?”

Jiang Cheng readjusts his tie, smooths out an non-existent crease on his coat to keep his hands busy, and nods toward the door that leads backstage. “I’m not having this conversation out here. Can we go somewhere more private?”

Nie Huaisang looks him up and down, as if deciding whether it’s worth the trouble to stab through Jiang Cheng’s foot with his high heels and call it a night. He seems to settle on no, though by an unfortunately narrow margin. “Fine. You better make it worth my time, Jiang Cheng.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Jiang Cheng mutters as he follows suit, ignoring the curious glances of party-goers. “It’s a real page-turner.”

-

Nie Huaisang’s dressing room is very him. As the Nightless City’s star singer, he gets one all to himself, but the illegal status of his workplace means it is still very much cramped, and made even smaller by the sheer number of clothes scattered about on every available surface. Everywhere Jiang Cheng looks, he sees sequins and glitter and gossamer, draped over one another like some crazy fairy godmother’s lair.

Nie Huaisang closes the door behind them with perhaps a little more force than necessary, then all but pushes him towards the brightly lit vanity and the plush little stool sitting in front of it. “Stay put. I need to change out of these.”

As he disappears behind a folding screen adorned with cranes in flight - oddly clashing with the rest of the room’s style -, Jiang Cheng stifles a sigh and decidedly stares into the mirror, ignoring the rustle of fabric a few feet away. The reflection looking back seems older than his thirty-three years, sporting pronounced shadows under his eyes and a general air of exhaustion about him. While time has been kind to Nie Huaisang, letting him seem barely a couple of years older than when they parted, Jiang Cheng feels like each of his own has been etched into his skin.

Payback’s a bitch, after all. Even if saying it aloud would mean swallowing his pride, the fact they parted in the first place was his fault to begin with. Dwelling on past dalliances does nothing but waste time and taunt the Prohibition, but here, surrounded by Nie Huaisang’s things and the life he stormed out of, Jiang Cheng allows himself to feel a pang of regret.  

He’s distracted from this downward spiral when the other emerges, wrapped in a bottle-green satin dressing gown. He must have wiped his face behind the screen, because though his lashes are still unnaturally dark, his lips have returned to their usual pale pink. With a pointed look from him, Jiang Cheng wordlessly gets up and returns the stool to him.

Devoid of makeup, the singer’s features do look a little more worn. Worry must have aged him a little more than Jiang Cheng expected. “Start talking, Detective Jiang,” Nie Huaisang demands, unfolding one of his many (familiar) fans. Whether it’s meant to clear the room’s stuffy atmosphere or hide his face is unclear.

“I assume you know it’s a series of cases rather than an isolated one,” Jiang Cheng begins. The space around him doesn’t leave much room for pacing, but he turns on his heels anyway, feeling restless energy creep up his legs again.

Nie Huaisang gives a sharp nod. “I heard. It has been selling headlines like hot cakes, you know.”

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. For an instant, it’s like they’re back to their usual banter-slash-flirting, though he quickly shakes the thought off. “The police hasn’t found any convincing lead. They’re filling up the news with some useless babble so civilians don’t start a riot, but they’re as clueless as the rest of you.”

To be fair, he cannot really blame them. It’s a mystifying case to say the least : normal citizens, who were living their lives without a hitch, inexplicably lost control of themselves and went on a rampage. If some were restrained before they could do much damage, others had gone mad in public spaces, and injured or killed many before they were either subdued or put down.

Nie Huaisang’s brother belongs, fortunately enough, to the former. Jiang Cheng assumes it isn’t much of a reassurance to have him locked in an asylum in the meantime, still out of his mind and frothing at the mouth with rage, but better that than the morgue.

“The problem was,” Nie Huaisang says slowly, “that they didn’t find any common point among the victims, wasn’t it? Old and young, rich and poor, living all over New York City. You’d think there would be a pattern.”

“Right.” Such is the biggest problem, in Jiang Cheng’s opinion. Putting aside the wounded and the death, the unpredictability of these attacks means it’s easy to suspect one’s neighbour, even one’s friends and family, when the attacker doesn’t seem to even acknowledge reality after the deed is done. Toss in paranoia, officials’ inability to come up with a decent explanation and the rumor mill turning a hundred miles an hour, and you have a recipe for chaos, Jiang Cheng thinks wryly. Whoever is behind this must have their reasons.

Nie Huaisang’s voice snaps him out of his musings. “So what’s your great breakthrough, then?” Although he delivers the line as sarcastically as ever, Jiang Cheng could swear he heard the faint tremor of hope in his words.

“Of course the coppers ran background checks,” he explains, his steps slowly coming to a standstill. “They found wildly different jobs, no common origin or education. But I don’t think they went as far as to check for hobbies. Wouldn’t have found out either if it wasn’t some theater critic’s wife who hired me. Her husband’s one of the more recent madmen. I was going through his papers, right, as I do, and I found this.”

Nie Huaisang accepts the notebook Jiang Cheng hands him, eyes moving across the pages. Jiang Cheng can deeply relate to the furrow of his brows at the sight of the man’s...say, questionable handwriting. “Play notes? Oh, right, he’s a critic. The Patriarch,” he reads, then pauses and looks up at the private eye. “What does this have to do with anything? It’s his job, he probably attends dozens of plays like this one every year.”

“Here.” He leans over Nie Huaisang’s shoulder, tapping at a margin. “Despite the actors’ stellar performance, I left the theater with a sense of unease, as if I’d just witnessed something out of this world. However, I believe Nettie Cavanaugh… Well, that bit doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t have paid attention to it either if this wasn’t the play the latest case recorded attended just the day before she attacked and gravely injured two of the friends she was out with.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes narrow, a spark of understanding shining behind his pensive gaze. “So the others…”

“All thirteen of them went to see The Patriarch sometime these past few months. It’s rather popular, I heard, so it’s not like no one ever saw it, but it could mean something.” As he speaks, Jiang Cheng realizes part of it is waiting for Nie Huaisang’s approval, for him to say you’re right, I think something’s off there. He could just as well dismiss him as a lunatic, reaching for straws where there is none. “Even your brother. He and Lan Xichen went to see it almost two months ago.”

“Xichen-ge wouldn’t have anything to do with this,” Nie Huaisang says immediately, reverting back to Chinese. “It’s a coincidence.” Even so, Jiang Cheng can almost see a seedling of doubt take root, insidious.

“I’ll have to talk to him again after I get a clearer idea of what the hell’s going on.” He pushes away the thought of soothing Nie Huaisang, tell him I’m sure he’s not involved. This is an investigation, not an attempt to get back with an old lover.

To his surprise, Nie Huaisang says, “I want in on it.”

Jiang Cheng stares at him, incredulous. “It’s going to be dangerous. If there’s someone behind this, they’ve been planning it for months.”

“And da-ge would do the same for me if I was the one targeted! Besides, if...when he recovers, he’s going to need something to prove his innocence. That he’s not the one responsible for these people he hurt,” Nie Huaisang insists. His amber eyes have turned to gold. “If you don’t take me with you, I’ll investigate on my own.”

“Fine!” Jiang Cheng snaps. He is, to his irritation, less annoyed by this turn of events than he should be. “But you’ve got to promise me you’ll drop out of it if things get too messy. This isn’t your job, it’s mine. Got it?” Silently, he adds, I don’t want to see you hurt. ( One could argue it’s already too late for that. )

“Fine!” Nie Huaisang echoes. He sounds...for lack of a better word, relieved. “So what’s our plan, partner?”

If Jiang Cheng didn’t know better, he’d call his tone teasing, almost flirty. “First of all, we’re not partners, I’m only bringing you along and you can fend for yourself. Second…” He shoves a hand into one of the inner pockets of his coat and fumbles around until his fingers close around two small scraps of yellow paper. He pulls them out and holds them up to the light.

“Wanna go see a play?”

[thegreenfairy13]

Dog Sitter Part 14 - Together

A Gobblepot fanfic. When Oswald loses his dog Ed, Jim Gordon finds it and does an excellent job when it comes to taking care of the mobster’s furry friend. Read it on Ao3 here.

Thank you @mexican-texican for correcting my mistakes and @butterfliesandresistance for holding my hand.

“That’s your idea of romance?” Jim asks with a crooked smile, feet dangling merrily from the pier.

The air is foul and fresh all the same. Oswald tastes salt, oil, and seaweed on the tip of his tongue. He smells Jim’s fresh cologne and the sweetness of his vanilla ice-cream.

The Captain watches him with an expression torn between curiosity and bemusement when his tongue darts out, wrapping itself around the cone, savoring the icy treat. The mobster’s eyes follow the movement. Staring at Jim’s mouth, he wonders how those cold lips would feel on him and blushes. Give it to Jim Gordon to eat an ice-cream in the middle of March when it’s still freezing.

He should probably be offended the other man doesn’t immediately understand, but it’s a bit hard with him sitting so close to him, his body-heat warming his aching bones. Jim is like a solid rock, particularly in this context and in this place; A safe anchor keeping him from the pitch black water trying to drown him over and over again.

Making a choked chiding sound, Oswald grins innocently at the man beside him. They are both sitting at the edge of the pier where their shared story began all those years ago. It’s the very place Oswald Cobblepot died and the Penguin was born. It’s the site of his personal reincarnation and a memento of his greatest fall. He knows exactly how cold the water here is, knows how it tastes and feels, how it burns in his lungs and eyes. He remembers everything about this water whenever he closes his eyes and goes to sleep. It’s a blanket that would cool him even on the hottest summer day.

If Oswald learned anything here, it’s how death is not the end, it’s just another beginning. Especially in Gotham. Nothing ever really stops, nothing ever stays the same. Especially him and Jim. They have both made mistakes, trusted the wrong people. They had loathed and fought each other and teamed up whenever the situation was most dire. They had started right here, and here they should start again.

Oswald thinks it’s poetic. Jim thinks it’s macabre to come back here.

“You exiled me from Gotham right here, on this spot,” the mobster declares, mouth hardening into a thin line.

“I remember,” Jim replies drily. He stares down at the water sloshing against the concrete and Oswald wonders what he’s thinking when a drop lands on the tip of his shoe. Did he ever regret not burying him in the floods?

“I died right here,” he continues. “Literally,” he adds with a little snort when Jim turns his head in surprise. “Ed shot me in the gut on this pier. You see, Gotham tried getting rid of me more than once.”

“You came back,” the cop notes, expression unreadable.

Oswald nods. “I own the harbor now,” he explains with a little shrug.

Usually, he wouldn’t feel insecure about revealing his influence or his power. But around Jim, he’s always a bit nervous. He’s giddy, like a kid showing a secret hideout to a friend. Or, well, he assumes that’s what it would have felt like if ever had friends.

“Nothing enters or leaves Gotham without my knowing.”

Jim acknowledges that statement solely with a curious glance. When opening his mouth, Oswald expects him to ask questions about everything that gets smuggled, about the goods, and possibly the other people controlling the harbor.

Instead, he bumps his shoulder slightly against his. “Good. I was already afraid we’d get shot in the back any second.” Jim pauses. “Well, I suppose that could still happen,” he grumbles sarcastically. “We’re quite literally sitting ducks out here.”

Oswald chuckles. “I can assure you, Captain, nobody would dare to. Besides, it’s too dark to get a good shot.”

Scooting closer to the edge, Oswald allows for his bad leg to fall over. With his destroyed limb dangling freely from the pier, the pain is almost bearable. Jim jerks beside him at the movement. One heavy arm shoots out and wraps itself protectively around his slim hips, pulling him slightly back.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jim scolds angrily.

For the briefest moment, Oswald allows himself to lean against the other man’s broad chest. Resting his head in the crook of Jim’s neck, he closes his eyes. Smiling to himself, he starts playing with the cufflinks of his shirt.

“Relieving my leg,” he explains, grinning mischievously. “But please continue doing your duty,” he adds when Jim removes his arm reluctantly.

The cop beside him snorts. “You’re terrible,” he states while the gangster already misses the warmth.

To his delight, Jim scoots closer. “Just making sure you don’t fall in,” he mumbles unconvincingly.

When he speaks again, his breath is hot against his ear, the arm lingering against his hip soothing. It’s not the question Oswald would have expected, but maybe he should have, given the place. Jim probably thinks that’s what they are here for.

“Why did Ed try shooting you after killing his girlfriend? You two controlled this city, I never understood what happened.”

The mobster sighs. His plans concerning Jim always have a flaw. Somehow he’s never capable of stirring the man towards the direction he wants him to go. The cop must think it was Ed who manipulated Isabella’s car under the influence of his Riddler persona.

“Did it ever cross your mind that I killed that woman?” he asks tentatively.

Jim frowns. “No,” he admits to Oswald’s utter delight. And wouldn’t it be fantastic if that truth could stay buried forever with Isabelle? Jim Gordon, the man who always thought the worst of him regards him as innocent for once, but he’s guilty as sin.

“Oswald, why are we here?” the Captain urges.

“Well, not because of Ed.” The mobster purses his lips in disdain. “But since you mentioned it…,”

“You started this when telling me he shot you right here,” Jim reminds him. Pulling slightly back, he scowls at the mobster with an expression usually reserved for the interrogation room.

“Right,” Oswald sighs in exasperation. Suppressing the urge to chew on his fingernails, the criminal slightly pulls away from Jim. Leaning back, he presses his hands flat against the concrete for support.

He wonders what to tell Jim. Originally, he wanted to pull the wool from his eyes. He wanted to show him how deep the corruption in Gotham truly runs. He wanted to show him how utterly useless his efforts to save the city have been so far and propose changing it again for him. At last, he feared it would be too dangerous. Tipping him over the edge is the last thing he wants. Jim is already too disillusioned, too lonely, too sad for the lack of a better word. What he truly needs is hope. And Oswald is ready to give the other man everything he wants. If it’s hope, then so be it.

“I think the view is quite lovely,” he replies with a lopsided grin.

Jim rolls his eyes. “And all those sweet memories.”

The gangster ponders how to continue. He brought Jim to the pier for a reason. He wants to give the man a present as well as proposing a deal. It’s a precarious thing. Even more so with Jim’s question about Ed.

“It never really crossed your mind I killed that poor woman?”

He can’t see Jim’s face in the darkness but he hears how his breath hitches. This truth is a dangerous thing. When this night is over, they could end up being enemies again. But now that the question is out in the open, there’s no way around it. Oswald wants Jim. And lies piled upon lies won’t make for a good start into the future.

“I saw the way you’ve been looking at Ed. You cared about him very much. The way I see it, you let nothing harm the people you love.”

His voice not once wavers. It’s a simple statement and probably the sweetest thing Jim has ever said about him. A proof the man indeed regards him as something more than a monster.

Humming in agreement, Oswald stares into the darkness of the sea. “And if I had?” he asks again.

“Then I’d have to arrest you,” Jim declares with determination. “But you haven’t,” he adds with even more certainty. Turning around he stares directly into the criminal’s eyes and the mobster’s breath hitches in his throat. The man before him is one who knows the truth exactly, knew it probably before - and decided to ignore it.

Yes, Jim has indeed turned into a crooked cop over the years. How many times did he turn to him instead of doing what is right? How many times did he compromise already? Which crimes he committed did he overlook?

“Would you really arrest me?” Oswald can’t help asking and the desperate noise Jim makes in return speaks volumes.

“A man we all assumed was dead used to be the centerpiece of your club,” he snaps back in response. “But yes. Yes, I would if I had no other choice.”

Maybe Oswald should be satisfied with this answer but he must push Jim. Either into his arms or so far away from him he doesn’t come back. “When would that be?”

For a moment, the criminal is certain the other man will get up and leave. He pulls his leg towards his chest, rocks forward and then decides to stay put. “If I had to choose between killing or arresting you.” He shrugs while dropping the remaining cone into the water. “There are powerful forces in this city beside you, Oswald. You know that.”

The gangster nods. Yes, he might be one of the most powerful players in Gotham but so is Jim. And so are countless others. Some are known, some are still lurking in the shadows.  

“I could never truly corrupt you,” Oswald pauses. “But you’ve teamed up with me over and over again.”

“You were always on Gotham’s side,” Jim sighs. “You are Gotham. But I messed up when turning to Sofia. And now I have to live with the consequences. I thought I could distract myself and for a while, that almost worked...” His voice cracks and Jim leaves the sentence unfinished. The Penguin knows what he wants to say though. He can see how the guilt and the loneliness are eating him up from the inside.

“So you want to give up and throw yourself in front of a bullet?” the mobster asks curiously.

Silence is the only answer he gets. “You can’t serve Gotham as a corpse,” he tells him softly.

“I haven’t served Gotham in while. I’ve only brought destruction. Oswald, I became what I fought against when coming here,” Jim admits ruefully.

It’s not true, the gangster thinks. He has seen what embracing your inner darkness truly means. Jim is still one of the good guys, he always will be. Whenever being forced to choose between good and evil, Jim would never choose evil. He may struggle, he may make horrible mistakes but at the end of the day, he’d be a hero.  

“This city needs something more than me. This city needs hope, a symbol, something…anything else but me.”

“What you’re talking about is a vigilante,” the Penguin snorts. “What this city needs, is someone with enough power to truly make a difference. And I can be that man. Together with you,” he states with a little jut of his chin.

“But why me?” the cop cries out, frustrated. “After everything…”

“Because I love you!” Oswald bursts out. “Because I’ve loved you for so long.” Taking Jim’s face between his hands, he forces him to look into his eyes. “Because it was always you.”

“But…”

“There are no ‘buts’,” the Penguin growls. “I might be a psychopath. I might not care about the value of human life, but I care about you. I care about Martin. I have the power to give both of you everything you dream of. I will change this city for you if that is what you want but you need to be my conscience. I don’t have one, it’s true.”

His hands fall to his side, numb and powerless. Why can’t Jim see? Why won’t he understand?

“We can’t be together,” Jim whispers, at last, gently reaching for his wrist.  

“Why not?”

“Because I am what I am. And you are what you are,” he explains softly. “And maybe we’d be happy for a while but you would miss being a crime-lord and I’d miss being a cop. We define ourselves as the men we have become. What would you suggest? Meetings in secrecy? Lies? It would destroy us,” Jim finishes.

Slowly releasing his hand, the cop starts to get up.  

“Stay put!” It’s a harsh command and it’s intended to be one. “It is you who keeps coming back again and again. It’s you who demands favors, who took care of my dog, who came after me when Martin was in danger. You made yourself part of my life and I’m not allowing you to come and go as you please any longer.”

Surprised, Jim stops. Opening his mouth, he wants to say something but the Penguin lifts his cane and the man falls silent. “I have never defined myself as a gangster. I strive for power, I need to be in control,” he carries on, slowly rising to his feet. “I can exert my influence legally or not. I really don’t care,” he shrugs. ��But you could give me a reason to. Care, that is.”

“That’s too much of a responsibility,” Jim whispers, appalled.

“Are you scared, Jim Gordon?” the Penguin demands to know. “Scared that you could really make a difference?”

“It wouldn't be that way,” he contradicts, stubborn as always. “I would end up being another one of your lackeys.”

“I would never ask you to do anything against your will,” the mobster objects.

Shacking his head, Jim turns to leave and finally, Oswald’s temper flares. “I have always been honest with you. I kept each and every one of my promises. It has always been you who acted like a coward. It’s you who left me in Arkham, it’s you who choose to believe I murdered my own child….”

“Then you probably should stop your putting trust in me! And it’s not you I’m afraid of. What do you expect? That we declare our love on the cover of the Gotham Gazette? Your allies will come flocking up to you, expecting you to ask me to look away! What would become of you, if you decided to date the cop who arrested half of your business partners? Did you ever think about that?!”

The Penguin’s face darkens as anger threatens to overpower him. The rage, his old friend, is coursing through his veins. But by now, he learned to control it. For Jim and Martin, he could always be patient. As well as for his mother, a long time ago.

“Look at the ship approaching the shore,” he orders haughtily. Reluctantly, Jim follows his gaze. “It’s loaded with stretched drugs,” he explains. “Drugs that could and probably will kill the people consuming them.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I need you to understand what a true partnership between us could mean,” he screeches in frustration. “The men on this ship betrayed me. The goods on this ship arriving in Gotham equals mindless murder, and I’ve never supported such a thing. Despite all my flaws, I strive for order.”

“Those men betrayed you and you want me to arrest them,” Jim concludes. His voice is flat, stripped of any emotion. The disappointment emanating from the man is almost palpable. Lying is not an option.

“Yes,” the gangster hisses. “Yes. They broke our deal.” Taking a step forward, he jabs his finger into Jim’s chest. “And tonight, they will either die or end up in prison. It’s your choice, Jim. Together with me, you can cleanse Gotham or allow for criminals like me to uphold the order. This night here could be the start of our partnership, or the definitive end of our alignment. This city can’t change overnight, and it won’t be pretty. But I’m offering you the chance of a true start.”

When the cop takes in a deep breath, Oswald almost expects Jim to run away, to leave him alone on his harbor. Shoulders slumped, he regards the Penguin for a long moment.

“You want me to take down your opponents.” Fists clenched, the Captain stares intently at the slowly approaching ship.

“You still don’t understand. I want you to take down all of them. With my help. Until you and I are the last two men standing.”

“I…” Jim works his jaw but no further sound escapes his mouth.

“You wanted to change this city with brute force and within seconds. You used your fists, your guns, and even Sofia Falcone to do so. Now, I’m offering you my genius. Choose wisely, Captain,” Oswald urges lowly and finally, the Captain cracks.

It’s a tiny gesture, an almost imperceptible nod that lets Oswald know he has won.

“Together,” the cop whispers at last and the Penguin hides his emotions behind a smile. If he could, he would break down and cry, or throw himself into Jim’s arms. But it’s neither the place nor the time.

“Together,” he echoes instead and before he can understand what’s happening, Jim leans forward and presses the lightest kiss against his lips. The moment is so short he wouldn’t even be certain it happened if not for the sweet taste of vanilla in the corner of his mouth. The cop is still rigid, tense, but ready to give in and that is everything Oswald could have hoped for. He’s practically vibrating in front of him but there’s also an expression of determination on his face that tells him there’s no going back now.

“You shouldn’t be here when the GCPD arrives,” the cop mumbles while taking the smallest step closer. A strong hand strokes Oswald’s jaw and his eyes flutter closed.

“Am I going to see you later?” he asks when Jim removes his hand reluctantly.

“Yes,” he answers without hesitation.

“Promise?” he presses breathlessly, like a love-struck teenager.

“Never again,” Jim shoots back, the tiniest smile spreading over his face when Oswald finally makes his way back to his car.