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liiilyevans · 2 years ago

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Singer/Band AU

Part 4. Peep under the cut for a surprise.

When Harry heard his phone ding and read the message, the first word out of his mouth was 'shit.' He wasn't anywhere near ready to host a guest. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck. After quickly buzzing the front desk and asking them to let Ron's little sister in, Harry quickly snatched his old plaid blanket off the loveseat and raced back to his bedroom to throw it on the bed. Then he closed the door. She didn't need to see what a mess his room was.

Not that his work space was any better.

He and Ron still lived in a little flat just outside of Dover. They'd looked for other places now that they could both afford it, but nothing had ever come of their search. Ron wanted to be close to his family, and Harry was not about to leave this flat as long as his best friend wanted to room with him. He figured that he only had so much time left before Ron and Hermione moved in together, shagged til she got pregnant, and popped out two point five kids.

The front room was one half living room and kitchen and one half studio. His keyboard was stuck in the corner across from the door while his guitar rack, sporting only three guitars currently, sat to the right of it. On the left side was his desk, cluttered with lyrics ideas, his desktop and two monitors, and what seemed to be a week old sandwich. Quickly, Harry snatched that and dumped it into the trash. The rest of his equipment was to the left of the desk; two mic stands and two microphones, headphones hung over the mic stand, a seat for when he played guitar, some cables running to his computer, and a partition to keep the acoustics sounding crisp when he sang or played.

Besides his desk, his studio area was mostly clean. The rest of the flat on the other hand was a mess.

Hurriedly, he scooped the trash off the counter and shoved it into the already full trash can. Then he grabbed the blue blanket sitting on the old love seat and quickly folded it, his aunt's voice shrilly ringing in his ears about making the place presentable. Everything still looked old and splotchy and like something you'd expect to see from someone who was just getting started in the music industry, not someone who'd been working at for four years and was successful.

That was when Harry heard the knock on his door.

After brushing his hands off on his sweatpants, which he realized he should have changed out of if he didn't want to look like a bum, he pulled the door open. Ginny Weasley was standing there looking up at the top of his door frame, probably at his and Ron's initials Hagrid had carved when he thought that they were moving out. Hagrid must have thought that if he put those there the boys couldn't leave.

Her eyes fell to his then, and Harry deeply regretted not putting more effort into his appearance. She was wearing denim shorts with a striped shirt tucked into the waistband. She also had an oversized denim jacket on. Her hair, similar to Ron's but not quite as orange, was pulled into a ponytail, allowing Harry to get a full look at the constellation of freckles across her nose and checks and her big brown eyes. He hadn't expected her to be this pretty.

"Hi," she said easily. "I'm assuming you're my brother's roommate and not a dumb thief who decided to open the door of the flat he's robbing."

If Harry hadn't been so shocked by her statement, he would have laughed.

"Yeah, I'm Harry," he said, stepping aside to let her in. Nervously, he ran a hand through his messy hair.

"Nice flat," she said before dropping her bag into the only chair he and Ron had. Her eyes immediately snagged on the equipment on the other side of the room, and Harry immediately felt self-conscious, a remnant he'd tried to smash from his childhood. Realistically, he knew that she was the one who should be nervous since he'd been doing this for a while, and she was relatively new to all this. However, none of the people he'd worked with had been in his flat before.

This was his personal space where he decompressed, where he knew that he could write trashy lyrics that didn't have to be perfect because no one was going to see them. It was home and only two people had shared that with him. When Ron mentioned his sister, Harry figured it would be alright to let her in here since she was his best friend's sister, but now, he felt exposed.

"Do you mind?" she asked, pointing to his acoustic Martin.

And, yes, Harry very much did mind, but something in the tilt of her head reminded him of Ron and so he shook his head no.

Ginny beamed and picked up the guitar. Harry thought it was about the brightest smile he had ever seen. After sitting down on his playing stool, she started to strum out a rhythm, which Harry quickly realized was to The Woods. He was slightly impressed that she had been able to pick up the chords just from listening to the audio recording he'd sent her.

"It's supposed to be a G there instead of an F sharp," he said when he heard the slight turn in what she was playing. A easy mistake to make if you were only playing by ear.

Ginny easily corrected herself and continued to strum, unbothered that she'd gotten something wrong. Harry wondered if she was just that confident or if she took criticism well. After a few more run throughs, Ginny stopped playing and offered the guitar to him. Thankfully, Harry took it, relief filling his chest and uncoiling his shoulders.

"Are you going to be this awkward the whole time?" she asked, her nose scrunching up.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Are you going to be this sassy the whole time?"

"I prefer sarcastic," Ginny said. "Sassy's a little demeaning, don't you think?"

Harry didn't have an answer for that. Instead, he just strummed his guitar for a few moments before he picked up where Ginny had left off.

"So, how does this work?" she asked.

"What?" Harry said absently, still trying to work out the ending melody.

"This whole collaboration thing," she said. "I've never really done this before." She said it casually like she was learning to swim or something equally as trivial. "I've only ever played with a band before and they've offered suggestions, but I've never sat down and written with someone."

"Who worked on your EP then?" Once it was out of his mouth, he realized how it sounded; like she couldn't have possibly written it herself. Shit.

"I did," she said, her eyes blazing. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

Harry winced. "That came out wrong." He stopped strumming and leaned across her to grab the lyrics he'd been working on. The smell of honeysuckle filled his nose. "These are the lyrics I've been working on." He handed them to her then grabbed a pen and handed her that as well. "Feel free to mark them up."

He moved over to the loveseat to put some distance between himself and the redhead, who looked like she still might throttle him. While she looked over the lyrics, he started to strum out the melody again. He could hear her quietly humming as she nodded her head along to the beat.

"Maybe replace 'what' with 'the things'," she said. "I feel like that's more concrete." Then she opened her mouth and sang the line. "There ain't no language for the things I've seen." Her voice was gritty and textured, just like Harry remembered it from her concert. She wasn't a smooth singer, though he was certain she could sing the notes clearly and cleanly if she wanted to. Her voice had character.

"I like that," he said. "Mark it up." She seemed surprised, but began to cross out and write in her change. She probably wouldn't have looked so surprised if she knew he kept all his first drafts on his computer and that version was just a copy.

"This next part," she said, pointing about halfway down the page. "Is this a verse?"

"Chorus," he said, changing the to the chorus melody.

She hummed. "Maybe speed that up?"

And so they went, back and forth, Ginny asking questions and Harry answering anything she asked about the song. When they were done, Harry was fairly confident that they were close to being able to record a demo. Ginny was standing up and stretching when Ron came in, dunking under the doorway.

"What the fuck?" Ron said, his eyes widening as they landed on his sister.

"Nice to see you, too, Ronald," Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

"I didn't know you were coming over," he said. "Have you been working on music?"

"No, just our making out skills," Ginny said.

Ron sputtered, his ears turning red.

This time Harry did laugh at her humor.

She grabbed her bag and waved. "See you later, Harry."

#hinny #harry potter #ginny weasley #ron weasley #hp #harry potter au #band au #to all the TS fans reblogging this #i see you #and i love it #make sure to check out my band au tag #for all parts #i have also added my new obsession #daisy jones and the six #if i say something that is completely wrong about music #ignore it #i did a google search but i'm not sure how accurate it was

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lgbtqmanga · 1 year ago

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New Releases Oct. 17, 2023

Breasts Are My Favorite Things in the World! vol. 7 by Wakame Konbu

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#new releases #manga #lgbt manga #queer manga #light novels

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catierambles · 2 years ago

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Shades Ch.5

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Faith Culver (Vampire!OFC)

WC 1282

Warnings: None

@brattymum96 , @ouroboros113 , @peaches1958 , @summersong69 , @henryownsme

if you want to get tagged in this specifically, lemme know. otherwise, it will just be my general tag list

Walter woke to gentle typing on a keyboard, as well as the occasional clicking on a mouse and he opened his eyes, unburying his face from the pillow. Blinking to clear his eyes, he saw Faith on her computer, a headset on over her ears and he could see some kind of combat happening on the screen over her shoulder. She looked at him briefly over her shoulder before turning her attention back to the monitor.

“Morning, sleepy head.” She said and he grumbled slightly, turning over onto his back with his arm over his eyes. The fog finally lifted from his mind and he glanced at his surroundings, seeing himself in her bedroom, laying in her bed. A quick check told him that yes, he was still clothed, but his boots and socks were elsewhere and the top button had been undone on his jeans.

“How’d I get here?” He asked and she snorted.

“You remember falling asleep on the couch?” She asked and he gave a positive sound. “I woke you up and got you into bed, you don’t remember that?”

“No.”

“You were quite out of it, so I’m not surprised.” She said and he looked over as he recognized his ringtone going off, seeing his phone sitting in a wireless charger on the nightstand. Rolling over, he grabbed it and answered the call.

“Marshall.” He said and sat in bed, “Captain, good morning. Yes, Sir, I’ll be right in.”

“That didn’t sound good.” Faith said after he hung up the phone.

“Well, he didn’t sound angry, so it’s a start.” Walter said and flung back the covers, getting out of bed and seeing his boots on the floor with his socks tucked into them.

“There should be an extra toothbrush under the sink in the bathroom if you want to get morning stank out of your mouth.” She said as he pulled on his socks and boots and he went into the bathroom, pulling the toothbrush from the multipack that was exactly where she said it’d be and brushing his teeth quickly with a bit of tooth…powder? Had to read the directions on that one. Worked roughly the same though, so why not. Probably similar to something she used in the past. In her…200 years old past.

…That was going to take a bit of getting used to.

“Hey, Faith.” He started, heading back into the bedroom and leaning in the doorway.

“Yeah?” She called back.

“You and Sean,” He started, “Did you ever have kids?” There was a pause.

“No.” She said finally, “We were never blessed with children, but not for lack of trying. I’m thankful, in a way, wouldn’t have wanted to watch them grow old and die while I stayed the same.”

“I have a daughter.” He said, “Faye. I don’t see her anymore, not since her mom moved and took her with her.”

“I’m sorry.” Faith said, turning around in her chair.

“I should get going before the Captain blows up my phone again.” He said and she removed the headset, getting up from her chair.

“I’ll walk you out.” She said and they walked to the front of the house.

“If you’re Irish, how come you don’t speak with an accent?” He asked.

“I haven’t been Irish for a very long time, Walter.” She said with an amused smile. “Would ye prefer it if I did?” She asked the question with a thick Irish brogue and he snorted.

“You’re fine, Faith.”

“Besides,” She still had the accent, “The English and Irish don’t have the best of relations, now do they, ya limey bastard?”

“Okay, that’s enough.” He said, smiling and shaking his head. “I’ll be over later?”

“Only if you want to.” She said, dropping the accent.

“I’ll be over later.” He said and turned back the locks, opening the door, but he paused for a moment, standing on the threshold. Leaning into her, he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and he caught the way her nose scrunched adorably and her lips pulled into a smile as he pulled away. “See you later.”

“See you later, Detective.” She said and he left the house, hearing the door close and lock behind him.

He was still in a good mood as he walked into the station, heading to the Captain’s office and knocking on the door.

“Come in.” He heard and pushed it open. “Lieutenant, thanks for stopping by, come in and take a seat. Close the door behind you.”

“Yes, Sir.” He said and entered the office, closing the door and sitting down in the chair across the desk.

“This is about Faith Culver, in case you were wondering.” The Captain said. “I’m aware that you and Miss Culver are…involved--”

“Not like that, Sir. We’re just friends.”

“Friends who spend the night?” The Captain asked, “The uniforms we have on her house noticed that your truck didn’t move all night.”

“I fell asleep on her couch while we were watching movies.” He said simply.

“I’ll be blunt, she’s on the short list of suspects, if not the prime suspect, for who killed the guy who tried to rob her bar.” The Captain said, “By your witness statement, she was shot, and we have her blood at the scene, but when Detectives Lewis and Graves visited her yesterday, she didn’t seem to have any injury at all. At least no obvious one. We did pull the security footage from the bar--” He had forgotten about that, “But it didn’t show anything.”

“Nothing?”

“They weren’t on.” The Captain said, “So all we have is your statement and you were unconscious when the murder took place, as well as the dispatch recording. Something happened in that bar after you were knocked out, something that resulted in that man's death. The man bled out, but you already know this seeing as the coroner admitted that he sent you his report when you asked for it.”

“Yes, Sir.” Walter said, “I also know that the body didn’t have any sign of injury that would have resulted in him bleeding out, aside from some bruising, but that wouldn’t have done it, and there wasn’t any of his blood at the scene.”

“Yeah, it’s a mystery to be sure.” The Captain said, “Listen, Lieutenant Marshall--Walter. You’re a good cop and I enjoy having you under my command, but I’m suggesting that you not involve yourself with Ms. Culver anymore than you already have. If she did kill this man, there’s going to be fallout and I don’t want you to get caught in it. Best course is to distance yourself as much as possible from her.” It was certainly the easiest course, but he wasn’t sure that it was the best. Did she kill him? Yes. Did she do it to more than likely save her own life? Also, yes. He didn’t know if the bullet wound would have actually killed her, but the fact that she had had to take such drastic measures means that it wasn’t an inconsequential injury. It went against his training as a cop, but his gut was telling him that she wasn’t a bad person. The law may be black and white, but the world wasn’t. She trusted him with who and what she was and abandoning her, something that she seemed to be expecting him to do, would be betraying that trust.

“I’ll take your advice under consideration, Sir.” Walter said and the Captain sighed. “Is that all?”

“Yeah, Lieutenant, that’s all.” The Captain said, “Hey, why don’t you take the day? You look like shit. We’ll call you if we need you.”

“Thank you, Sir.” A pause. “I think.”

#henry cavill #walter marshall #shades #my writing

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foxy-writes · 1 month ago

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I finally had her.

I finally had Vivian Torrance, the woman I had been watching for damn near two years, in my possession. And the best part? She could never leave. It helps that I happen to know that just as she's gotten under my skin, I've burrowed my way into her very being leaving the two of us chained together for what I can only hope is forever because there's no way in hell I was letting her go anytime soon.

I couldn't help but watch as she paced the room as though she were a caged animal yet still observing just how much detail I had put into her room.

I know I should be working but I knew I wouldn't be able to focus knowing Vivian was under my roof, sleeping just two doors down from me.

"You should really let me out" She said, staring at the camera for what must've been the fifth time already but I didn't respond, simply watching as the realization that I was in fact ignoring her settled over her features.

"Magnus you better let me out or my brother is going to be worried" she threatened before throwing herself on the bed her eyes going glassy as I walked out of the monitor room.

I was going to make her wait, it was the least she could do after I went through the effort of purchasing her to begin with, not that she could've been with anybody else but still the point still stood. Walking into my office I was quick to pull up the camera footage on one of my monitors so I could supervise Vivian as I worked.

Not that much work got done as Vivian stopped begging to be released and instead inched her way up the bed slowly as though she were putting on a show with an audience of one. I knew she'd enjoy my plan much more than she let on but I wasn't sure exactly how much she'd enjoy it once it was settled that I wouldn't be joining her in the room.

I didn't want to turn her into an obedient pet but I wasn't going to allow her to act like a brat. And she was anything but obedient as she slowly stripped out of her bloody shirt.

Her eyes staring deep into the camera as she continued stripping, the sight of her naked body on the other side of the screen going straight to my cock as it twitched to life under my desk.

It only got harder to control myself as she spread herself wide open right in the camera's view leaving me hard as rock as I watched her hands knead her breasts before traveling down her body until they were right where I wanted to be.

Even with the quality of the footage being less than perfect it was easy to see just how much she got off on the idea of being locked away as her arousal soaked the sheets below her. As her fingers began slowly rubbing at her clit her back arched off the bed a quiet moan just barely reaching me through the speakers.

"Fuck this shit" I muttered to myself before popping the button on my slacks, my eyes don't leave the screen as my pants slide down my thighs and pool around my ankles. As my hands made contact with my cock, precum already appearing at the tip I watched as her fingers dipped in and out of her entrance slowly as though she were testing the waters. Stroking myself in time with her thrusts was going to kill me at this pace but I stuck with it, watching as she fucked herself on her fingers.

As her speed increased I could tell she was close, her moans raising in pitch as she came with my name on her tongue her back arching off the bed as she kept fucking herself through her orgasm her back arching off the bed so sweetly as my own release swept through me harder than it ever has before. "Ah fuck!" I grunted as I released onto my hand and slacks before softening in my grip.

Tucking myself back into my pants, I watched as Vivian slowly got out of bed, her legs clearly shaking, and began gathering everything she'd need to shower.

Deciding to let her shower without an audience this time since it was clear she wasn't the only one who'd made a mess of themselves I shutdown my computer with a sigh. I really did have work to do but I wasn't about to do it wearing cum stained slacks.

A knock on my office door had me pushing my chair further under the desk in an attempt to hide the mess I'd made that was quickly becoming uncomfortable as it dried.

"Yo, Magnus, are you in there?" My long time friend and pain in my ass Theo called from the other side "yeah" I grunted before the door opened and Theo came strutting inside only to settle in a seat across from me with an almost knowing smile on his face.

"I heard you made a purchase today," he chuckled, confirming that despite my efforts to keep it on the low, Lucien just couldn't help but spread the word of his daughter's engagement.

"I did, is that a problem?" I asked, narrowing my eyes as if daring him to say something stupid. Despite being my oldest and closest friend it wasn't often he approved of my rash decisions "I just hope you know what you're doing" he sighed, his easy going smile slipping off his face "your uncle isn't going to be happy about this" I hadn't even thought of my uncle and that must've been clear as Theo let out another exasperated sigh.

"Do you think he'll still come to the wedding?" I asked curiously not really seeing a problem. My uncle and I had always been close so I doubt he'd have a problem with this little game of mine.

"Oh he'll definitely be there," Theo nodded excitedly just waiting for the drama as always.

#my writing #FoxyWrites #To Insanity #The Obsessive Love Series #smut

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withlovemark · 2 years ago

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i want to be with you, everywhere.

warning: i need to get better with my warnings so um, grief, hospital, mentions of death, nightmares, angst! as always

pairing: steve x female reader

words: 5.1k+ (hoping i edited this well enough)

an: despite the warnings, take this as my apology note, especially for those who had to go through all the cliffhangers! im so sorry! AND this is the last chapter of this mini series, thank you so much for reading and for all the kind words!! <33 your reactions make me laugh so much and they do brighten my day more than you think! maybe you can also help me think of what to write next? my ask is always open! :> hope to see some of you there!

one. two. three.

four.

steve.

he had your favorite flowers in hand, hopping into his car and dreading the familiar drive. it’s been a week and five days since the tragedy that left him crying out your name.

for the past 12 days, the boy makes sure he picks up something you like before his daily visits. cassette tapes, vanilla ice cream, strawberry flavored chapsticks.

everyday, he talks to you. everyday, he gets no response.

a familiar figure was already there once he arrived, “hey max,” he greets her gently, a light tap to her back, soft smile making an appearance upon his pink lips, tired eyes crinkling slightly. she looks up from sketching in her notebook, the flowers in his hands makes the girls’ heart swell at the thought of your reaction if you were to see it.

“she’ll love those,” a quiet hum of approval.

“you think?” an eyebrow going up, a tiny smirk dancing upon his face, proud of his choice.

“i know.” the girl nods, he places the flowers beside the numerous gifts your friends have left for you.

taking his seat on his usual spot next to you, fingers immediately wrapping yours, “hey beautiful, i’m back,” he whispers, planting a gentle kiss on your temple. the heartbeat through the monitor filling the corners of the pale, gloomy, walls, his only assurance that you were listening.

“the doctor said her vitals are improving,” max breaks the silence, hope blooming in their maimed hearts, “she should wake up soon.”

“that true? will you let me see your pretty eyes soon?” steve asks you, his hold on your fingers gently tightening. carefully watching the way your chest slowly rises and falls. max collects her things, the tender hearted moment making her believe that love is veracious.

“i have to go to class, ping dustin if anything happens,” handing the extra walkie-talkie and a quick hug to the brown haired boy, leaving you and steve alone.

the boy gets comfortable, head gently laying on your mended stomach, “eddie’s still in jail,” he starts,“it’s looking up though, they can’t really find any evidence that he did it, y’know?” updating you about the events that were taking place.

“he might just make it to graduation,” he chuckles, looking up at you “by the way, you really need to wake up or else they’ll hold you back and i know how much you hate doing homework,” he teases, tucking the stray hair out of your eyes, the light bursts of air slipping from your lips providing the comfort he needed.

“when will you wake up?,” he sighs, eyes starting to get glassy.

he was exhausted. ever since he got you out of the upside down, unresponsive body blanket wrapped around his back, steve hasn’t had proper rest, leaving only to change out of his wrinkled clothes and rid of tiredness under cold showers, coming back the next morning, wanting to be there when you finally wake.

once, he spent a night at his house, against his will, dustin and robin forcing him to get some proper shut eye. they were unsuccessful. your body in his arms as you took your last breath playing in his mind, haunting him. he found himself thrashing around, looking for you, greeted only by shadows in the dark. it’s easier in the hospital because when the nightmare reoccurs, he wakes up to you and for now it’s enough to calm him down.

he can’t forget that night. the paramedics sending electricity through your chest, barely finding a pulse. it took three charges before a melodic beeping finally echoed through his ears and steve swears it’s the best sound in the world as he hid his face in the crook of robin's neck.

“we won,” he reminds you everyday. “everyone’s okay…all we need now is for you to come back to us,” letting out a shaky breath, he hasn’t quite figured out how to remain stable in moments like these.

“i need you to come back to me, y/n” a desperate confession.

—

nine days has passed. exactly three weeks of steve’s words being met with silence.

“i have a secret,” he whispers like you weren’t the only two people under the moonlight shining through the window.

“i always had this dream,” the boy starts “in this dream, i have six kids,” he chuckles quietly, “crazy, right? me? a dad?,” he imagines the way your face would have contorted once you heard that.

“anyways me and my six little harringtons, three girls and three boys…we would be away from here, traveling, seeing the world, just driving anywhere and everywhere our little camper van can take us,” confiding in you the future he had always hoped for.

“but here’s the secret,” sliding a little closer to you, voice barely audible, “you’re sitting in the passenger seat,” he sighs, a sad smile, confessions in the air taking with it a bit of weight from his shoulders, “like you always are…smiling at me with that beautiful smile of yours,”

“singing at the top of our lungs, making our kids complain about how grossly in love their parents are,” every word stretches out the boy's smile, lost in the creation of his dreamland.

“and then you’ll laugh, that laugh that makes my heart light up and i couldn’t ask for anything more,” he brings the back of your hand up to his lips, placing soft gentle marks of love, “does that sound okay to you?,” breath hitching in his throat.

no response.

taking a deep breath, emotions surging through him, feelings of loneliness and despair escaping through his eyes as silence one again took over the night.

—

“do you want to know the day i fell in love with you?”

“it was when you walked in to scoops ahoy, my first day on the job, i was scared and nervous about people coming in and seeing me, “king steve” he quotes, “working only at an ice cream shop because i wasn’t good enough for anything else” a hand going up to his locks, pushing back the strays of hair that’s blocked him from seeing you.

“then you walked in, in that cheerleading uniform that drives me crazy by the way, and you smiled at me, congratulating me, and i knew at that moment that i didn’t care about what anyone else thought as long as you’re there… believing in me,”

“i kept on making you try every flavor of ice cream in hopes that you would stay longer and you did and i just felt so happy, like a boy having a crush for the first time” soft chuckles escaping the boys lips, recalling memories that were keeping his heart glued together. for someone who was labeled as a ladies man, he had no idea what to do when it came to you.

“but i was so scared… i was scared i wasn't good enough for you, that i’d just mess it all up like i always do and so i pushed those feelings to the side and flirted with any girl who made their way into the store…im sorry,” his voice a faint whisper. he wasn’t proud of those actions but sometimes we do things that we think is best at the time.

“i just wanted to keep you with me and feelings usually ruin things that are good and god i just couldn’t risk it, i couldn’t risk losing you,” both hands going up to his now, very disheveled hair, he looks up at your silent figure, the sun peeking through the window, illuminating your face. the thought of your twinkling eyes sparkling under them, the way they do every time you look his way, urges him to keep going.

“then word got out that you and carver were seeing each other and fuck, i was pissed, i served so many customers the wrong order that day y’know?” he can almost hear your laugh. can almost hear the way you would tease him for being whipped. but he wasn’t, he was just a boy who had so much love to give to someone who he thought was unreachable.

“i didn’t say anything though, cause who was i to tell you to stop seeing him? but you stopped coming around and i was so sad, i convinced myself that i liked robin to finally get you out of my fucking head,”

“we both know how that ended up,” he smiles to himself, the memories fondly playing in his mind. the way you looked at him that night while he sat on the white tiled floors, bruised and beaten up. soft fingers ghostly grazing over his face, treating him like he was porcelain. handling him with so much care, an emotion he’s never had the privilege of feeling before. something he never thought he deserved.

truth settling in his heart.

you came back to him. visiting him every single day. your daily visits were the only thing keeping him from clocking in at work. you had him wrapped around your tiny little fingers and you didn’t even know it.

and then you started coming home with him, after every shift and he was keen on never letting go. home was where your laughs filled the air.

and it’s been four weeks since he felt it.

—

“steve,” a soft voice, small taps on his shoulder, carefully shaking him awake.

he sits up, mind still in a haze, slumber in his eyes, before looking up at familiar eyes and for a second, in his half-dazed state, he thought it was you.

you had your mother’s eyes.

“you know, you don’t have to sleep here, these hospital couches are really bad for your back,” she warns him, a concerned smile on her lips. steve noticed the wrinkles on her face, now more prominent. he wondered what it was like to be a nurse and having to take care of sick people all the time, to be in these rooms and still feel sane. then he wondered how hard it was for the sick person to be your own child.

he offers her a smile, “im okay, y/m/n,” the two have grown close this past month. your mother was grateful you had someone who loved you this much. she grew to love the boy like he was her own son.

“at least eat something, ok? i don’t think my daughter would love to wake up to someone that no longer resembles her steve,” her steve. he loved the sound of that. he nods, completely understanding her concern.

the boy hasn’t had an appetite lately, his hair always a mess, farrah fawcett long forgotten. despite the doctor’s positive feedback, they had no idea of what monsters you fought. the possibility of you not waking up was becoming more prominent each day. but your mother was right. if you ever saw him in this state, he won’t be able to forgive himself. he can already see the sadness in your eyes, can hear the voices of guilt in your mind.

he nods. she forces him up and pushes him towards the door, “go, i’ll call you if anything happens,” your mother’s orders.

he obediently follows, taking one last glance at you before your mom playfully shoves him out, sending him a reassuring smile, “i’ll be quick.”

he was back in your room that night, the smell of aftershave filling the air.

–

he’s polite. he started taking care of himself.

he also started decorating your room. cassette tapes, vanilla ice cream, strawberry flavored chapsticks, books of all genres, paintings from the kids adding color onto the walls, beer bottles in the mini fridge, your pom-poms sitting on the couch across the room, the scent of your perfume in the air.

steve has made it his secret mission to make these walls feel as homey as possible even when your guests started turning up less and less, life becoming busy, with graduation coming up in just four months. college applications. jobs. family.

he never left.

with every passing day, his hope is as strong as the first day. everyday for the past six weeks, he’s there. reading you books, telling you stories, playing your favorite songs.

a light tap against his fingers. a fleeting moment, leaving as soon as it came causing him to stumble out of his seat.

“y/n,” eyes searching for yours, name tumbling out of his lips. a second passes. heart beating to the ticking of the clock. waiting. hoping. one minute. nothing.

he slouches back into his chair, “y’know you really shouldn’t lead people on,” he jokes, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice, “i’m supposed to be the player, remember?,” his heart yearning for you.

the monitor beeps, responding to him. an ungodly tune that makes the boy spring out of his chair and into the halls, calling out for help.

you.

a distress cry, a white bright light shining above, almost blinding. one, two, three people in scrubs looking down at you like you were some rat in a lab experiment, except their eyes seem to crinkle into a warm, inviting smile.

there’s a boy in the room, a pretty one. he’s looking at you, tired, glassy, eyes, lips, red, hair, disheveled and you can’t help but blush under curious eyes. even in this situation you’ve awakened to, beeping monitors, hospital gowns, scrubs, he was beautiful. he gives you a reassuring smile and you look away, noticing that you were staring for far too long to be considered normal.

you hear a static noise and then the words “dustin, she’s awake.” you realize he’s talking about you but before you could find your voice, a woman comes bursting into the doors, your mother, in all her glory. her long hair swaying with every step she took towards you, “m-mom?,” you finally were able to mutter. your throat felt so dry, like you had eaten a pack of saltine crackers and had no water to push it down.

you think you hear the boy let out a sniffle, blocked by your moms own tears falling to the apples of her cheeks, her hand immediately stroking your hair like she used to do when you were younger and had a nightmare, “hi honey, how are you feeling?,”

“a little lost.” is what you want to say. the events that transpired are lost in your memory and you can’t quite figure out why you were here, who that boy is and why he was telling a “dustin” about you. you’ve always had a need to please your mom, to let her know you were fine because if you weren’t, you can see the way her brain gears into tricking herself that it’s all her fault.

mustering up the best smile you could give, “i’m fine, just a little thirsty,” she chuckles. right answer. it was somewhat true, you’ve never felt as well rested before in your whole life. she hands you a glass of water, “that’s great honey, they’re just going to run some tests, ok?,” you nod at her ever so politely, the cold glass still placed between your lips. since when did water taste so good?

the boy is still there, still staring at you, you can feel it from your peripheral vision. you couldn’t help it. couldn’t stop the three words that came stumbling out of your lips. you wish you could’ve because his face immediately fell and you wanted nothing more than to take it all back and take care of him.

“mom, who’s that?,” her face torts in confusion, she hides it quickly. she’s a nurse, she’s dealt with patients before, she’s quick on her feet. “that’s steve, he’s a friend of yours,” softly smiling at you. it’s not the whole truth, you can tell by the sympathetic smile she gave him.

“we’re going to leave you with steve for awhile if that’s okay, y/n?,” the doctor chimed in, clipboard in hand, you assume that’s where all the information about you is. you nod. somehow, you trust steve and if your gut was wrong, you certainly trusted your mother.

one by one they left the room, leaving a static silence behind. you finally take this time to take in your surroundings. the white, gloomy walls that you hated seeing every time you would come visit your mom at the hospitals, we’re covered in color. some drawings were better than others. stick figures and 3d animations. you glance at each one.

there’s a particular one that catches your eye. a boy who looked like steve, brown, wavy long hair sitting next to a hospital bed, with who you presumed to be a smiling, twinkling you. he’s holding the most beautiful bouquet you’ve ever seen. those same flowers littered across the floor, yellow in the background, the name max signed on the bottom corner. whoever max was, they were good.

focusing your attention on steve, he quickly looks away, suddenly finding interest on the ground. you notice the small blush that’s made its way upon his face after being caught staring. you have questions and you feel like he can answer them.

“do you want to sit here instead, steve?'', pointing to the chair beside you. his name slides off your tongue like it was a practiced prayer. one your mind has forgotten but your body has memorized.

“i promise, i don’t bite,” you send him a soft smile, you're proud of yourself, the way you made his face lit up. he wastes no time, sinking into the chair like he owns it. unbeknownst to you, it is his chair.

“how long have i been here?,” you ask the boy. there’s no way your room could be covered with so many various trinkets if it was only for a short time. unless you have many, many friends. but you don’t. or you don’t think you do?

he’s hesitant to answer, you can tell by the way his bottom lip made its way between his teeth, “45 days,” he quietly replies, eyes avoiding yours.

45 days. 6 weeks. a month and a half.

you couldn’t believe it. how about school? cheerleading practices? graduation? you look up at steve, ready to bombard him with questions. he’s picking at his fingernails. you can tell he’s trying his best to keep his composure and all you want is to calm him down.

“are we really friends, steve?,” he finally looks up at you, golden brown eyes shining into yours. they seem familiar, like the daylight that would peek through the windows in the mornings while you’re covered in soft blankets, waking up with warmth right next to…

who? you try to rack your brain for some sort of answer. none.

“yeah, we’re really friends, y/n,” your name off his lips leaving a sweet taste in your mouth. you’ve decided it’s your favorite sound.

“were …,” you hesitate, feeling a bit shy under his gaze, mind going back to the drawing, “were we more than friends?,” you find yourself playing with your hands, unable to keep eye contact with him, even though you wanted to so badly. to get lost in his brown eyes. to drink it up like it’s your favorite coffee.

he chuckles, a quick, quiet laugh, grabbing your full attention, “you could say that,” a sad smile, your heart bursting at the thought of what more is.

did you get to taste his rosy lips? play connect the dots on the beautiful freckles that lined up his pretty face? run your hand through his silky hair? why couldn’t you remember?

you can feel the way he wants to say more so you wait, just looking at him, “we never quite got to labeling what we were?,” he sighs and you want to reach out to him. to tell him to put a label on it. now. but you’ve only met him an hour ago and it would be absurd to fall in love with someone you’ve known for an hour.

“why’s that?,” you ask, curiosity leaking off of you. to have someone in front of you know everything, to know you more than you know yourself. it’s absolutely frustrating.

“i was too late.”

you wanted to cry, you don’t know why, but you did. you felt awful for the boy in front of you. felt awful at the fact that you couldn’t remember him or anything that you went through. before you could stop yourself, a tear escaped your eyes. and then another and another. like a broken, leaking faucet that needed to be fixed.

“hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, you’re okay,” hushed whispers, hands making their way to your cheeks, thumbs ghostly grazing over each tear, wiping it away.

you’ve felt those hands. you’ve heard those words.

and then you made the mistake of looking into his golden eyes.

transported back in the red laced world. memory after memory hitting you like a truck. steve at will byer’s house, makeshift bat in his hand. steve in the driver's seat that halloween night, beer bottles and unspoken truths. steve and his farrah fawcett advice, an arm around your shoulder. steve’s whine of cries, max! driving his car. steve scooping vanilla ice cream, scoop after scoop, rosy lips and blue sailor outfit. steve and the tiled bathroom floors, flowers blooming, singing, driving, late night talkings, kissing, steve, body molding as one, jealousy, pining, confessions, steve, despair, loneliness, hope, love.

steve, steve, steve.

you remember it all. the basketball game. chrissy. eddie. max. vecna. you remember dying in steve’s arms. you remember it. and you remember hearing him. you heard him. every single day. every story he told, every book he read, every song he sung.

you heard every word, every pause, every sigh.

“where are we gonna get a camper van?,” you cry out, tears freely streaming down your face, you smile at the boy you love. he’s stunned, mouth agape, piecing the puzzles together. and then he’s looking at you with so much adoration, almost like you hold all the stars in the sky.

his own tears fall and he doesn't bother wiping them away. “we can save up for it, y’know? get a job? somewhere that pays well,” he babbles out, hand tight around yours, like he’s afraid you could disappear at any given second.

“we can get an apartment, far from here, start over,” you continued for him, hands just as tightly enclosed in his. letting him know that you’re there. that you’re with him and you’re in it. whatever it is. as long as he was there.

he laughs. creating a sound that brings the sunshine in. the one where birds sing. where the trees are green. the one that feels like you’re in a fairytale.

“i love you,” you’re in the clouds. flying. free. three little words that sent your heart hammering in your chest.

“i love you too, steve harrington.” you feel his chest pounding as hard as yours. you see the smile that’s made it’s way upon his pretty face. your hands in his hair, holding him close to you, feeling his breath upon your lips and it’s taking so much out of you to not devour this man like he was your last meal.

closing the space between the two of you, he tasted like vanilla and mint. for a second you wonder if this is all in your head. you wonder if you have somehow convinced yourself to create a heaven you’ve only heard of in books. but then the boy pulls you a little closer, kisses you a little harder and you know that he’s real.

and he’s yours.

your steve.

—

6 months later

the last box finally sitting pretty in the back of the car, you let out a sigh of success, admiring your work before two large hands made their way around your waist, enveloping you in a warm embrace, feet coming off the ground as bubbles of laughter rang through the neighborhood, “steve!” his name echoed out.

he puts you down soon after, laughters creating a melodic tune of happiness and love. your boyfriend’s face coming into view, sun shining brightly, creating a halo, making him look like an angel “we did good, baby,” he smirks, capturing your lips between his, a soft peck. enough to send butterflies throughout your body.

“hm, yes we did,” you smiled, arms finding their way behind his neck, pulling him closer, ready to hear the sound of the bells that play every time he kisses you.

“god, can’t you guys go a second without eating each other’s faces,” dustin mocked, eyes rolling, cutting the moment short. don’t let his tone fool you, he secretly loves it. you hear the boy wrapped around you groan in annoyance.

“i’m so happy we’re finally moving away,” he whispers, tickling your ear, causing you to scrunch up your nose in a way he finds absolutely adorable, playfully shoving him away.

“yeah, seriously, we get it! you’re in love! you don’t have to rub it in our faces all the time, we are just kids!” max adds, clearly not hearing steve’s quiet complaints.

at the sound of the girl's voice, you finally pull away from your boyfriend's embrace, earning a pout from him as you focus all your attention on the girl in front of you. wide smiles mirroring each other’s expressions, walking over to her and pulling her in a quick hug.

“do you guys really have to go?” lucas’ voice coming from behind max, a tinge of worry resonating in his voice. you pull him into the hug.

“we’ll only be two hours away, if you really need us, we’ll be back in a second” eyes stern but soft, you make sure you look at all of them. max, lucas, dustin, reassuring them.

“but please just call first,” steve adds, breaking up the warm moment. you give him a warning look, one to say this is not the time and he surrenders to your feet “kidding, we’re always here for you kids,” he quickly adds, a forced smile etching onto his lips. though everyone knew he meant every word. these are practically his kids. and after his little hospital confession, you’ve teased him so much about his love for these kids, making him want to take back every word he said. he never does. because nothing has changed. that is still the future he envisioned. especially with you.

“well, i guess this is the last of it,” robin joins.

the kids keep themselves busy on your front porch, “found these upstairs, you really shouldn’t leave these behind y’know” she hands you your diploma and on the other hand, the tape that saved your life on multiple occasions.

taking the diploma out of her hands, you thank her for double checking everything.

eyes glancing down to the cassette tape you grew to dislike, steve’s messy handwriting:

everywhere - fleetwood mac.

“keep it,” pushing it back towards her, “i don't think i can stand listening to that song anymore,” you shrug. you really hated vecna for that. you hated vecna for a lot of things, especially the lingering nightmares he left you with. but every night, steve is there, holding you, comforting you. every night he whispers hushed i love you’s into your ear and it’s enough. you no longer needed a favorite song to keep you grounded.

“i hate this song,” she says bluntly, earning a laugh from you. robin looks happier, despite the fact her two best friends are leaving town. she was finally able to muster up the courage to talk to her long-time crush and the two have been hitting it off, going on dates, spending hour after hour just talking to each other, telling jokes. she told you all about it during the times you weren’t here and she continues to do so. you loved each story.

“well, i happen to like that song so i’ll take it, thank you very much,” eddie intervenes, grabbing the tiny clear tape out of the girl’s hand, his cheeky smile meres away from your face as you mirror his expression. warm, large hands gently disheveling your hair. eddie was able to walk the stage. hell, you both did. he flipped off the entire school afterwards, it was a sight to see, one you were glad you were a part of. his band is doing well.

steve quickly pushed his shoulders back, “too close, munson,” and you can’t help but look up at your boyfriend, who had every right to do that now. a jealous steve harrington. you loved it.

“oh c’mon harrington, it was the fifth grade! and i rejected her!,” he jested, sending you a smile, earning an eye roll from you. lips still happy.

“it’s true,” you nod at your boyfriend, who was now standing in his signature pose, arms crossed, biceps protruding, “but even if it wasn’t, i’d still choose you, no offense eddie,” you smile between the two boys, robin chuckling. steve tries to hide the effect those words had on him, hands going to your waist, pulling you closer to his side.

“none taken, i would also choose harrington,” he cheekily replies, sending a wink to the golden boy, leaving the three of you laughing at an unamused steve.

the others finally join, this time accompanied by nancy, jonathan, will, mike, and el.

you and steve bid each one of them a see you later, followed by a tight hug, ignoring the tears that are dying to escape.

“i’m happy for you,” nancy whispers to steve, a small smile on her lips as he looked at the girl that hit his head hard enough to finally get his shit together, he thanks her, “i’m happy for you, too.”

you hear the exchange between them and you can’t help but feel like this chapter is really closing. you were happy that they were happy.

—

“you sure you really want to leave all of this behind, harrington?” you ask as the sign that stated you’re now leaving hawkins, indiana came to view.

“it’s still not too late to change your mind,” a small smile playing on your lips, teasing him, your body turned towards him, a hand laid on his thigh, eyes twinkling. you know nothing in this world could ever change his mind.

taking a quick glance at you, he smiles. a genuine smile. one that sends all the stars into his honey eyes. placing a soft kiss in the back of your hand that was laced between his fingers, he makes you fall in love with him all over again, deeper, harder.

“l/n, i want to be with you, everywhere.”

it’s true. because home is where you were. and if that meant being an hour away from hawkins, or being on the other side of the world, hell, even just living on the streets, he’ll take it. steve harrington has lived a life without you sitting on the passenger seat, without laughter engraving his heart, without eyes as beautiful as the cosmic space boring into his. and he swears he could never live through that again.

side note: i had the beginning and the ending finished since tuesday but i could not, for the life me, figure out how i wanted you to wake up and how the hell i was going to get to the ending. it was so infuriating, i literally though about it every second i wasn't writing. i thought about it so much to the point i ended up dreaming about it and now we're here and it's done. once again, thank you so much for reading!!!

taglist:

@preciousbabypeter @dabria14 @earthkissedcalum @lettyshush @m1ke-wheeler @fujiihime @zeusmyster @buckys-bbarnes @rexorangecouny @impala1967666 @crying-caro

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things #steve harrington stranger things #everywhere we were there #i’ll follow you everywhere #everywhere #i want to be with you everywhere #love.c.

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givehimthemedicine · 2 years ago

Text

"Do you think she's okay? I mean, considering."

Joyce and Hopper stand outside El's bedroom in the cabin, speaking in the hushed tones of concerned parents.

The door is open just enough for a glimpse - the room is dim, curtains shut to the midday sun. El is in bed, a brown corduroy jacket tucked under her arm, deeply asleep.

"I thought all she'd want to do was be with Mike and visit at the hospital, but ever since we got here she just sleeps. All day, all night..."

"Kid's been through a lot. She needs the rest."

"But for how long..."

"As long as she needs," Hopper shrugs, sliding an arm around Joyce's shoulder. "You can't hurry this stuff."

That same bedroom, but dark now. The clock on the dresser glows 4:11. El is sitting up against her pillows in the moonlight, her eyes closed. She looks asleep, until she dabs the droplet of blood from her upper lip with an already stained tissue, and then is still again.

There is the faint sound of beeping.

"You're not alone, Max."

A heart monitor and a hospital bed stand isolated against the blackness of the void, where the girl lies motionless. El sits close at her side, holding her hand. It's easier now with the casts off.

"Tonight is night sixty-one," she whispers, as if Max is only sleeping, "and I miss you."

She keeps her eyes on Max's pale face and her fingers in contact with Max's cold ones, hopeful for the tiniest hint of stirring. Minutes are the same as hours. For the sixty-first time, nothing happens.

"But you don't need to hurry." Her lids want to droop, but she fights it. "You rest as long as you need. I'll be here."

a ficlet of my headcanon. if anyone would like to draw this, i'll pay you in tears

#stranger things headcanon #max mayfield #eleven #elmax #stranger things ficlet #hc: hospital max #fic #mine #angst #headcanon

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johansslut · 3 years ago

Text

concupiscence.

from the writer’s desk: this is all scarlett’s fault! how dare she look that good! anyways, i don’t know what this is, i just figured i’d share with the class. motivation for me to add onto this in the future is gladly welcomed and appreciated. and, just in case you were wondering, the inbox is open for any and all requests! you can check out who i write for here. summary: fresh out of college and working as an assistant for romanoff international, your one mission aside from climbing the corporate ladder is to catch the eye of your boss. contains: ceo!natasha x female reader —— warnings include unspecified and implied age gap [ legal ], cigarettes, nsfw content [ thigh riding, slight daddy kink, dirty talk ]. don’t repost my works.

“Don’t look now,” Kate hisses under her breath, stiffening in her seat. “But Romanoff’s coming this way.”

Your curiosity betrays your appearance and you glance up, ever so slightly, to steal a glimpse through the reflection of your monitor. It's hard to tell, but Kate's forewarning doesn't seem amiss; even in the late afternoon when the sun glints through the floor-to-ceiling windows, accidentally skipping the hallmark of your boss entering any room is unthinkable.

Your boss is kind of hard to miss as it is.

Kate's head ducks back down as she reaches for the phone on instinct, her personal tell that you're about to be in the presence of company, and company royalty at that.

When you glance up a few seconds later at the sensation of having eyes boring holes into you, Natasha Romanoff is only a few feet away from your desk.

"Bishop?" she calls to Kate coolly, Kate tearing her sights away at the sound of being summoned to acknowledge her newfound presence. "That call important?"

Kate tucks the receiver into her shoulder, cupping over the mouthpiece. "Waiting to get patched through over at Stark Industries," she whispers. "It's about that one tech project we're trying to roll out next quarter."

She's so full of shit that it's a wonder she hasn't gotten called on it yet.

"About time Stark's people learned how to pick up a phone." Natasha's sights shift, falling down on you. "And you? Anything pressing?"

"Not at the moment," you reply smoothly.

"Excellent," she replies. "Come with me."

Natasha doesn't wait. This is one thing you've learned in your past three months at Romanoff International, bumping brains with Kate in a collaborative effort to make sure that everything in Natasha's realm of the business is running smoothly. That, and seeing that Natasha herself is taken care of — it falls somewhere in the job description as the assistants to Romanoff International's CEO to adopt all of her personal matters and take them on if you want to see a paycheck every two weeks. Natasha keeps things moving at a break-neck pace, no time to dawdle or smell roses or any of that metaphorical shit that would imply a second is going to waste when she could be focused on the next and the next next.

So you slide out from under your desk, smooth your hands under your skirt as you stand and fall into step with her in direction of the elevator.

You find yourself holding your breath as you linger back a half pace, content to follow the lead she sets. It's a choice that almost defeats the purpose of your Herculean efforts over these past few months, working just as hard to catch Romanoff's eye in any capacity as you are to keep her affairs in order, but you need to take stock for a moment.

There haven't been many alone moments with her since being hired; she's typically the woman of the hour every hour and she keeps you and Kate going from the time you clock in to the first minute you have available to go home. It's worth it, though, when you're able to flicker her line of sight away and onto you, steal her piercing green eyes off of whatever she's working on and carry their gaze past the window until you're out of sight.

So worth it, in fact, that you have completely shifted your priorities at work. Long gone are the days when you'd come to work, hair pinned up in a clip and your trusty (and less than appealing to the eye) flats every day. Catching her eye meant you'd have to work for it, so work for it you have. You're one of those girls now, catching cabs in your Louboutins because you know they accentuate your ass and legs whenever you walk. You don't wear the same Dolce & Gabbana dress within a two week span, only making sure to repeat it if you notice it garners attention. You even went out and bought new perfume, a distinct Tom Ford scent that didn't usually float through the office on a regular day, wanting your presence to be remembered even once you’d left for the day. Even if it's in the subtlest, smallest of ways.

You are a battle strategist when it comes to dressing nice for Natasha Romanoff, but if it means some day you'll win the cold war of this century, you'll take it.

Kate's called you on it more than once, the two of you sitting in one of the abandoned office spaces that you frequent for your lunchtimes. "You know, I heard that they offered her the chance to be the Bachelorette two years in a row," she'd divulge with an iniquitous smirk.

"Doubt she would've gone for it."

"Yeah, but if she had been, you so would've auditioned to be one of her girls, wouldn't you?" Your cheeks flush at the insinuation, head tipping down and your lips occupying themselves with the straw in your drink. "God, you so would have. You're so whipped I hardly remember the days when you'd come in here looking like a normal person. Now you just make me look like a full on schlep in comparison." She'd ball up her straw wrapper and throw it at you, a teasing gesture that you'd deflect with the swat of your hand.

"Where are we headed, Miss Romanoff?" you think to ask as you weave your way through the halls after arriving on the fortieth floor. "We're meeting with the board," she answers. "Can't move forward with our latest acquisition until the board votes on it."

She glances over her shoulder at you, which inspires you to pick up the speed just a fraction so you are level with each other. Her eyes are exceptionally green today, cutting and no-nonsense and like an entire other planet you'd take great joy exploring in great detail. "I'll need you to scribe for me," she explains, chin tilting out in the direction of the iPad you have tight against your chest. "I dropped a spreadsheet in the shared folder earlier as well. You'll need to have it ready, just in case I need a reference or two."

"Of course, Miss Romanoff," you oblige.

Her lips quirk into the beginnings of a smile as the two of you slow to a stop in front of the board room. She stops in the doorway, gracefully clearing a path for you and gesturing towards it. "After you."

"Thank you," you remember to say, paired with a saccharine grin as you walk past with an adopted swing in your hips. You're not the type to hype your own efforts, but if her eyes aren't on your ass in this Alexander McQueen ensemble that you all but drooled over in the store, then she's sworn herself to a life of celibacy.

All twelve of the board members are milling around the room already, just waiting for Natasha’s arrival to kickstart their meeting. Natasha crosses over to her designated seat, tugging the chair next to it closer in proximity for you. “Are we all set, boys?” she asks calmly, her almost bored tone stealing their attention and commanding cognizance.

“Of course, Miss Romanoff,” one of them says, all falling like dominoes into place into their own seats around the conference table. “We’re here about the newest acquisition?”

“DB Worldwide Media, yes. It’s my understanding we have to vote before moving forward.”

“That we do.”

“Well, gentlemen,” Natasha prompts, leaning back in her chair. There is no question, in your mind at least, who is in charge around here. “Shall we begin?”

The sun has long since set by the time you emerge from the board room, ahead of Natasha. Natasha had almost appeared bored throughout the entire meeting, fielding questions left and right about the outcomes of acquiring DB — you’d had to tip her spreadsheet in her direction only a handful of times, instead spending the majority of the meeting keeping track for your notes.

You walk with Natasha quietly, side by side through the now emptied halls of the office space. The elevator ride from the fortieth floor back towards the twenty-first is quiet, the doors peeling open and a faint ding heralding your arrival to no one. Just as you begin to slow upon approach towards yours and Kate’s space does Natasha shift in her path, interrupting the motion.

“Would you mind coming back to my office?” she requests. “I’d like to go ahead and get a copy of those notes before heading home.”

You turn back on your heel, straightening your spine. “Of course, Miss Romanoff.”

You follow her into her office, city sparkling in through the wall of windows that sits behind her dark wood desk. She retires to her office chair, leaving you to take a seat at one of the conference chairs stationed in front of her desk. You begin sifting through your notes to send to her, only occasionally glancing up to see what she’s doing.

There’s a quick, snapping sound that catches your attention, and when you look up, you notice that she’s spun the chair around so she’s facing you, her fingers idly flicking at the side of a lighter with a cigarette dangling from her mouth. She pauses when she notices you watching, a perfect eyebrow arching. “Gotta deal with ‘em somehow, right?” she quips rhetorically.

You just nod, which seems to satisfy her. “We’ll keep this our little secret, yeah?” she continues, in reference to the dozen fire codes she’s breaking by smoking indoors.

Your lips press down into a smile. “Of course.”

She lights the cigarette, taking a drag before exhaling out a stream of smoke. “That should be the last of it, Miss Romanoff,” you say as you finish sending her the last file, locking your iPad. You lift your head, watching as she continues to blow smoke from the side of her mouth, the embers on the end of her cigarette glowing from where it dangles between her fingertips.

Sitting here in a moment of stillness, where she isn’t on the go or balancing phone calls or even in an agitated state because Tony Stark has had the audacity to exist, it is easy to appreciate just how beautiful your boss is. Red hair curling just at her collarbones, a blazer and pantsuit that you’re confident costs more than your rent, green eyes that crackle with electricity as they absorb every detail laid out in front of them. Plush lips that you’d like to have wrecking your own, leaving them swollen and bruised—

“Something on your mind?” She breaks through your reverie and you realize that you’ve been staring.

“Nothing, Miss Romanoff, just...”

“Just?”

Your lips turn up into a smile, taking the first thing that sparks in the recesses of your very empty brain and running with it. “I’m just grateful for the opportunity.”

This seems to amuse her. “And what opportunity is that?”

“To learn the ropes under the best. Seeing how you handle meetings like that, how you keep things running while constantly trying to move forward...it’s inspiring.” You decide it is now or never, leaning forward slightly so she’s treated to an extended peek of your cleavage. “And if there’s ever any way I could thank you, properly, for the experience...”

“Thank me for the experience? Is this a resignation?”

“Not at all, Miss Romanoff,” you swiftly interject. “I love working here. Ideally would like for my career to continue here, really — like I said, I’m simply trying to expressing my gratitude however you’ll let me.”

She stares at you for a moment, lips wrapped around her dying cigarette as she tries to figure out your game. “Are you propositioning me?” she finally deduces, the low husky tone in her voice lilting in a way that you can’t tell if she’s teasing you or about to end your entire career. “Because that’s a HR nightmare just waiting to happen.”

“We could always keep it our little secret,” you offer with the shift of an eyebrow, turning her words back on her. You study her carefully, her green eyes dark and unreadable as she flicks out a drawer and snuffs her cigarette out in the ash tray.

“Walk around,” she instructs. You leave your iPad behind in the seat as you rise, carefully walking around the corner of her desk. She stops you with the flick of her wrist, right next to her chair. She rakes her eyes over you, slowly, thoroughly, enough to leave you feeling like your entire body’s on fire. “Every morning when you walk in here, dressed like this, are you trying to express your gratitude?”

“No,” you respond after a moment of trying to locate your voice in the back of your throat.

“So why do you do it, then?”

“To catch your eye,” you answer honestly, your blood sizzling inside your veins.

Natasha closes her eyes for a brief moment, exhaling out a soft laugh. “Believe me, pretty girl, you catch my eye plenty.”

She suddenly reaches out for you and tugs you closer, depositing you onto her lap. She’s warm underneath you, around you, touching you, and you can feel the lick of her flames engulfing you by the second. “You’re lucky I don’t fire you on the spot for trying to distract me,” she whispers as her mouth ghosts along the curve of your neck, her breeziness evaporated. “Even luckier I don’t call you in here, bend you over my desk, and have the whole office listen to you screaming my name. Was this your plan? Dress up like some kind of slut draped in diamonds, tease me for weeks until I break and have no choice but to fuck you senseless?”

“Did it work?” you pant breathlessly.

Natasha grabs your jaw, forcing you to eye level with her. Her green eyes are alight with electricity, as if she’s plotting how to devour you. “What does it look like?”

She guides your face towards hers, her lips finally colliding with your own. You sigh into the kiss as she sucks your lower lip into her mouth, tracing the contours of your mouth with her tongue. She tastes like nicotine with a faint trace of spearmint and fuck, if this isn’t all you’ve thought about and then some when you realized that your boss was carved out of the fucking sun. She moves her hand around your neck and up to the base of your scalp, knotting her fingers into your hair as she cups your head. You adjust your position in her lap, bracketing your legs around one of her thighs.

“What’s the likelihood that a little slut like you is already soaked for me?” she mumbles against your mouth, using her grip in your hair to give it a sharp tug back and allow you to respond. “High?”

“See for yourself,” you breathe out, chest heaving.

“Mouthy,” she chides as she relaxes her grip, which finally frees you to the opportunity of trailing her jawline with your tongue, finding a soft spot on her neck that you dedicate to laving your teeth and tongue across. “At least you know how to put it to use.”

She slips her hand up the thigh of your skirt, her fingers barely grazing over the scrap of lace you’d put on this morning. As she predicted, you’re soaked through, and her feather-light touch sends another wave of heat straight between your legs. She laughs, it vibrating through her throat when you whimper. “A kiss got you that turned on, babygirl?” she teases. “Bet you’re gonna be dripping down your thighs by the time I stretch that pussy of yours out.”

“You want that?” she whispers in your ear, and you’re so fucking gone that the sound of her voice cues you to roll your hips, in search of some kind of pressure. “Tell me.”

“Yes.” You gasp at the sensation of her fingers hooking under the hem of your panties, lightly trailing the skin where your cunt meets your thigh. “Yes, Miss Romanoff, want you to fuck me.”

She laughs again, a low and dark sound. “My little tease even has manners. Lucky me.”

Natasha fumbles a little bit more underneath your skirt, tugging your panties to the side. A brush of cool air hits your cunt. “That better?”

You nod. “Go on, get yourself off. You’ve clearly been waiting long enough,” she encourages, smirk twisting on her lips as she retracts her hands, dragging them up your thighs until settling on your hips. “Ride me.”

It’s the only invitation you need, shifting yourself so your bare clit comes in contact with the fabric of her pantsuit. She angles her thigh upwards and you can’t fight the whimper in your throat as you start to roll your hips, chasing the friction. “Look at you,” Natasha hums. “Eager to take any opportunity I give you, huh?”

“Mhm,” you agree, teeth sinking into your lower lip as you focus on your movements, grinding your swollen clit hard against her leg. Her fingers press into your sides tightly, hard enough that you could try and probably get through as her with the bruises she’ll leave. Another whine escapes you as you ride her thigh. “Fuck, daddy.”

You hardly realize the words that have rolled off of your lips until you look down, seeing the wicked smirk Natasha’s now wearing. “I’m your daddy now, am I?” she teases. Her hands come off your hips just so she can tug the neckline of your dress down until it’s settling right below your bra. “Show me your tits.”

While you grind against her thigh, you reach behind you and flick the clasp of your bra free, letting it fall loose. Natasha pulls it off your arms and tosses it to the floor. One hand settles back on your hip as the other reaches up to play with your nipple, rolling it between two of her fingers before she pinches, twists it tight enough that it illicit another squeak. “That feel good?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, your movements on her thigh growing more desperate, erratic as you try to reach your high.

“This what I got to look forward to now?” Natasha murmurs as she fills both her hands with your tits as you ride, squeezing them. “You coming in to work, dressed all pretty just for me, squirming while you wait for me to call you into my office and fuck you? Gonna come to all my meetings, sit in my lap and assist me however I need you to like a good little girl?” You groan as she shifts her hands up, pushing your hair back behind your ears while you rut against her thigh. “You want me to show you all the ropes, be my little project?”

“Please,” you beg, nodding your head fervidly as you reach for her shoulders to have some purchase. “Please, daddy, so wet for you.”

“Want my fingers in that little pussy later?” she continues, her voice dropping as the smirk unfurls across her mouth. “Want me to suck you dry right here on my desk, fuck you good and make sure everyone in the office knows who you belong to? I bet you do, don’t ‘ya?” A broken cry leaves your lips as she shifts her thigh and lightning flashes behind your eyes. “You’re probably pretending you’re riding my cock right now, yeah? Come all over it, make a mess.”

“Fuck,” you whine. “So close, gonna come for you.”

“Yeah, you are,” she breathes out, lips pressing against the column of your throat. “Do it, pretty girl, ride my fuckin’ thigh. That’s it.” Her thigh is meeting your clit at a delicious angle, each time you roll your hips pulling little cries and whimpers from your throat as you get closer and closer to your orgasm. “You gonna come?”

“Yes, y—please, daddy, please!”

“Be a good girl and come, then. C’mon, baby, do it. Come for me. Come.” You finally hit your ceiling, riding out the waves of your orgasm with her name on your lips until you float back down. You can’t recall the last time it’s been this good, so charged and heated that all it took was a little pressure and encouragement to send you over the edge.

Then again, the last person you fucked wasn’t your insanely hot boss who you’ve been lusting after for months.

“Fuck, you’re something else,” Natasha groans. You’re still trying to catch your breath and wrap your brain around the fact that you’re sitting in her lap, having just come all over her thigh.

“Thanks, Miss Romanoff,” you breathe out, smiling down at her.

She runs two fingers in between your legs, swiping through the wetness of your folds before presenting them. You don’t wait for her request, closing your lips around them and eagerly sucking your taste from her fingertips. Natasha watches you with wild, crackling eyes.

“Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow x you #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel fic #natasha romanoff smut #marvel fanfiction #ceo!nat #carlie writes things #writing: fics

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creativeashproductions · 4 years ago

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Proceed With Caution // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: The reader doesn’t expect to become involved in a hostage situation with her fiance’s older sister, the older sister’s best friend and the best friend’s date from hell. With the addition of a SWAT member, how will the taking of dispatch change?

Warnings: Swearing, blood, threats, angst, guns, hostage/kidnapping

Words: 5.9k

A/N: Recently got into the tv show 9-1-1 and completely fell in love with Buck so here I am writing for him as well. This takes place during the season three episode ‘The Taking of Dispatch 9-1-1’. Reader and Buck are already in an established relationship.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

The apartment was quiet as the sound of your keys clattered in the bowl on the countertop. It was pretty early in the morning, so you had no doubts that Buck would be just waking up. On his days off, he would use the first day to catch up on sleep; based on prior times, he would be up in half an hour.

“Buck?” You called out from the kitchen. You heard a groan from the loft where Buck was in the process of waking up, “I forgot to drop off that book Maddie wants to borrow. When I get back, do you want to get breakfast?”

A grumble you somehow translated to approval was what you received in response. You jogged up the stairs to the loft to grab the book from your bookshelf. Buck’s bare leg stretched out from underneath the comforter on your side. The soft sighs Buck made in his sleepy state tugged at your heart; the sighs grew louder when you bent to kiss his head.

“See you in a bit.” You whispered to the sleepy soft male. He sleepily grinned in response before curling into your pillow.

The sound of your footsteps softened on the steps back to the main level of the apartment. Your keys snagged from the bowl before you gently closed the door behind you. The sun was gorgeous to be awake to see and had Buck not worked a long shift, you’d have adored watching it with him.

Your car pulled out of the parking spot in the Los Angeles Service Center’s direction that Maddie worked at. Your lips quirked as the radio spewed out the station that Christopher listened to in the car. You could even pick up the book in the backseat where he called his spot. The book could be found in Buck’s Jeep as well.

It had maybe three days since you’d seen the young Diaz, and damn did you miss the kid. Christopher has his enigmatic quality that demanded you love him for all that made him simply Christopher. The second you’d met him, you knew he would mean a lot to you.

You hummed in time with the song that was currently Christopher’s absolute favourite. Slowly you went from humming to singing along when the light turned green. A handful of songs came and went on the admittedly long drive due to traffic.

It was about forty minutes after leaving your apartment that you parked next to Maddie’s car in the parking lot. Lucy was sitting at the front office with a grin you matched. The woman buzzed you before she clocked out with her reprieve Jake.

“Hey, Sue!” You grinned at the older redhead. Sue had absolutely no problem seeing you, given that you were welcome in the building.

Sue’s first interaction was when you came to the centre to pick up Maddie when she came to work sick. Maddie had managed to keep it under wraps for an hour before Sue caught on. Ever since, Sue was fond of asking Maddie about her brother and you.

“Maddie’s not in just yet.” Sue spoke with a kind smile, “If you’ll excuse me, I have to meet with one of our sit alongs.”

You nodded towards her while beelining for the woman’s bathroom, hoping to catch Maddie after using it. You’d drank too much water on your run earlier this morning. Whether it was fortunate or unfortunate in the time you’d entered the bathroom, several things happened. Lucy ended her shift, Jake started his shift, and a group of strangers entered the building.

Your hand went to push open the door when through the crack, you saw two men you’d never seen before. Years of your job gave you enough feeling to know that something wasn’t right. That being said, you eased the door closed and attempted to find a hiding spot.

The garbage was too narrow and had no lid. The few seconds you had left, you glanced up. The ceiling hadn’t been renovated in many years. Rectangular sheets could be raised. Thankful of the rock climbing lessons you’d done with Maddie, you managed to crawl into the ceiling just as the two men entered.

“Nobody’s here.” The one-man with his head as pale and shiny as a cue ball. He gave off the most creepy vibe; the shorter Hispanic man wasn’t as violent looking, “Kinda hoping someone tries something. I’ve wanted to try out this.”

The man waved the large gun in his hand with a sick smile that twisted your stomach. That was the moment you’d realized something was very wrong. The second they left, you gently dropped back on the ground. Your first instinct was to send a message to Athena, but there was a fatal flaw. You’d expected to be in and out of the building quickly, so you’d left your phone in the car.

“Fuck.” You swore. One hand roughly running over your forehead as you contemplated figuring out a plan.

The building had many cameras throughout that you knew the blindspots for. The year after high school and during the summers, you’d worked in the building. Despite having worked here when you were younger, it was never during Sue’s shift. Over the years, you’d come to know the blind spots and a few cameras that were decoys. You even remembered Maddie and her friend Josh complaining about three cameras not fixed yet.

“Think.” You breathed, making a pattern of pacing, “They’ll need a lookout. They’ll take out the security guard first. The front doors are out. It’s a team, so they’ll also need eyes on the building. Terry is definitely a hostage.”

Of course, you’d end up in a volatile situation during the first half of your day before your shift started. The only comforting thing about the situation was the holstered gun on your hip and the badge on your belt. Maybe you should backtrack to why you had a gun and badge; you were an LAPD member, specifically SWAT.

“The changeroom.” You breathed, recalling it was down the hall with no camera. All you needed to do was pretend to be a dispatcher. The changeroom, now mostly a file room, had a few extra maroon and blue uniform shirts.

You timed it. The man holding Sue’s tablet was in the process of talking with his cohort, so you dashed to the room. You took no time in changing into a loose maroon shirt with your thick sweater overtop to hide the gun in the small of your back.

Your holster, badge and personal shirt tucked in the bottom of a box for safekeeping. As soon as you saw your entry, you sat with the group of hostages a hall over. A few looked surprised but let it go when you raised one finger to your lips.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Maddie hissed from the other side of a startled Josh. Both of them were surprised at seeing you here, “Oh my god. Buck is going to kill me.”

“I was dropping off your book before I get breakfast with Buck, but it appears my small bladder saved my life.” You snarked with your eyes scanning the room, “What’s going on?”

“That is my date from hell, Greg.” Josh inconspicuously pointed towards the man, clearly giving orders. The anger flared inside you, “You need to get out.”

“Josh, no offence, but I’m an officer with the LAPD. I work with SWAT. I’m your best bet of making it out alive.” You informed the dispatch duo, who went still as Cue Ball patrolled the hallway with a sadistic glint in his eyes.

“They took control of the building for a reason we don’t know about. We’re still working but under strict monitoring. They said it will be an hour, but we’ve seen their faces.”

“No witnesses.” You finished for Maddie with a deep sigh, “Unfortunately I left my phone in the car. Did they take yours-”

“They took Linda’s EpiPen. Of course, we don’t have phones.” Maddie sighed, leaning back to rest her head against the wall. Not even having a SWAT member by her side was comforting; your badge put a more significant target on you.

“We have to warn someone.” Josh mumbled to both Maddie and you, “You’re on shift Y/N?”

“Not for a few hours. I was supposed to drop off the book and get breakfast with Buck before my shift. This was supposed to be five minutes tops, so I left my phone in my car.”

“I already did.” Maddie spoke with a sad look on her face that overtook the fear, “I just hope he gets the message.”

Your hand reached out to squeeze the woman you’d had a hand in raising Buck more than their parents. Maddie had become family when you first started dating Buck. The in-law part of her familial relationship to you never crossed your minds; you were simply sisters to each other.

“Who?”

“Chim. I told him I loved him.” Maddie finished with a teary gaze. It made you sick seeing that look again after Doug.

You remembered seeing that haunted look when she stumbled out of the thicker woods covered in blood. You’d stayed by Athena’s side when Buck clutched her so tight and sobbed with her. It had been before you’d become serious with the man, but it was that frightening day that Buck fell for you. You’d just finished a taxing shift with your team when you heard about Maddie was missing, and Chim was in the hospital. You’d ignored the exhaustion to search high and low through your work contacts before narrowing the search area.

“Good thing Chimney obsesses over the little things.” You spoke, slouching down against the wall, “We’ll get throu-”

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Maddie warned you with her brows furrowed together, and you saw what she was doing. Despite your years of experience and the gun you had, she pushed her fear down behind the concern that a big sister shows her young siblings.

“I won’t.”

At 8am, Buck was just entering the apartment building from grabbing the mail addressed to both you and him when Chim had called.

“Yup, go for Buck.” Buck spoke, opening the door to the apartment he’d only temporarily left. His morning had been late after his long shift the night before. The most productive thing was dressing for his breakfast date with you and grabbing the mail.

“How come 9-1-1 doesn’t respond when I call?” Chimney questioned the younger, now confused male.

“Uh, is that some kind of riddle? Like who watches the watchmen?” Buck asked, closing the door behind him. His eyes scanned around for any indication you’d returned home, but the bowl was vacant of your keys.

“Neither of those things are riddles. Okay, I just tried calling 9-1-1, and I got the high call volume message. Did I miss an earthquake or something?”

“Nope, pretty chill morning.” Buck responded as he closed the fridge door with a bottle of water in hand. The entire conversation wasn’t concerning to him, given that Chimney was often like this.

“Where’s Y/N? She’s the police she’ll know-”

“She’s not home right now. Wait, why are you calling 9-1-1? Is everything okay?” Buck slowly asked with his brows coming together. The sigh of frustration from Chimney was answer enough.

“Your sister said that she loved me.”

“Yeah. Wasn’t that uh, the whole point in that big date you had last night?” Buck inquired on his way to the table. He had a feeling this was going to be a long conversation that would hopefully pass the time until you got home.

“You declare your love, and she declares hers? That’s how it went with Y/N and me.”

“Yeah, I know, okay, but she didn’t, all right? At least not last night. Look, she made this big deal saying that she couldn’t say those words, and then this morning, she blurts them out and hangs up on me.” Chimney speaks, pacing in his own apartment. The side by the side of Chimney and Buck’s separate apartments told different tales of their states.

“It’s still not quite sounding like an emergency.”

“’Cause I sound insane.” Chimney spoke, staring up at the ceiling with a battle in his mind. He wants Buck to talk him out of this, but he also wants Buck to agree with him, “She’s at the call centre. What could happen there? You know what, forget it, I’ll try Y/N again.”

“Again?” Buck questioned just as his co-worker ended the call. Buck tugged his phone away from his ear to stare at it confused.

You always answered the phone if you weren’t working at the moment, but given you still had hours, he found it unsettling. After seeing the news report with the ladder truck on top of him, calls weren’t ignored between you two. That feeling of concern grew when you didn’t answer his call either. Nor the second one.

“Nah, she’s probably talking with Maddie.” Buck spoke, but that second-guessing feeling didn’t dissipate.

In the call centre, you’d been marched to one of the stations with a deep hope that you’d remember everything. It had been years by then since you’d worked as a dispatcher. It didn’t help with the gunmen patrolling the room.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” You calmly questioned the caller.

“Hi, my cat is up the tree by my house. Could you send someone?”

“Can I get your name?” You went through the motions of getting her name and address before you informed the woman, “Okay, the LAFD and LAPD no longer respond to calls of cats in trees. The cat will make its way down on its own. If the tree is in your backyard, I’d use the time to garden or read a book on this beautiful day.”

“Oh, thank you. I’m sorry for taking up your time.”

“It’s no problem. Having a wonderful day Susan.”

In no time at all, you’d been rotated into the board room away from Josh and Maddie. It gave you time to inspect everyone you hadn’t made contact with yet. No one appeared harmed other than in distress with the situation.

“Downtown. They don’t want anyone downtown.” Linda whispered as Maddie was guided onto the floor by the elbow. You’d only gathered her name from her near-silent introduction to you when the hired guns had been far from your area.

“Let’s go.” Greg snapped, roughly pushing you towards the conference room. Something deep in your gut already predicted that someone was going to be stupid.

It was your sharp eyesight catching the minuscule agitation in Greg’s interactions with the Cue Ball guy. The slight tightening of his grip on the gun, the tension in the room growing stifling. And everyone knows that when emotions run high stupid things happen.

“Why do they keep moving us around like this?” The man beside Maddie questioned. He was definitely the most shaken of the group. He was basically shaking like a chihuahua.

“To disorient us.” Maddie spoke, staring at the group monitoring the dispatchers currently in play. Her eyes refused to leave them.

“So, we can’t make a plan.” You finished for your sister-in-law. Objectively out of everyone, Maddie, Sue and you were the most collected individuals for various reasons.

Maddie had lived in a volatile house with a man that could be unpredictable if a situation called for it in his mind. Sue had been working in the centre for years to navigate the emergency while you walked into dangerous situations.

“Jamal.” The shaking man spoke, holding his hand out towards you, “Are you new?”

“No.” You spoke as you shook his hand, “I’m Y/N. Maddie’s sister-in-law. I’m filling in as a favour for Sue.”

The lie slipped off your lips a little too quickly. You decided to come to this hostage situation as if you were undercover. It meant having to ignore that Maddie was in the situation with you.

“Worst day for a favour.” Jamal snorted with his eyes pinned on one of the armed men holding all your lives in their hands. You’d have spoken, but Jamal checked out mentally from the conversation waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The shoe dropped when the IT Specialist announced numbly, “Jake’s dead. They shot him.”

It didn’t matter how long you’d been working for the LAPD, any death, whether it was a civilian or a criminal, it was still was startling. Jake, the security guard that alternated shifts with Lucy, wasn’t someone you spoke with. He was on shift when you weren’t here or just missed the shift change.

“We need to get a message out.” Jamal spoke, glancing at the only people in the right state of mind, and those were Maddie, Josh and you. Terry had seen the violence these men had no issues with.

“I did.” Josh breathed, thinking of the arguably cute security guard he sometimes liked to stare at, “A woman called about onions in an omelette. I dispatched an officer.”

“To the restaurant?” Maddie inquired with her pinkie connected with yours for comfort. Both of you would prefer your SO’s hand instead.

“Not exactly.” Josh replied, staring at his best friend with a glimpse of hope in his brown eyes.

Hope may be the only way you could get out of this without hurting anyone in your admittedly surface level plan.

“Buck will think something is up.” You added

Buck had begun pacing the kitchen of the apartment with Chim adamantly telling his friend his plan to go to the centre. Buck had joined Chimney in the concerned department when you had failed to return to the apartment, return calls and to make matters worse, so was Maddie. His texts had gone unanswered as well, not even having the read receipt on.

“She’s not picking up either. I tried Y/N and Josh, but neither replied. When I tried Maddie and Josh, it went straight to voicemail.”

“Now, I’m definitely going.” Chimney announced, shoving his wallet into his pocket just as someone began knocking on his door.

“What if something is wrong? I know Y/N is a member of SWAT but radio silence? No text to let me know she was called in early?” Buck thought aloud with his finger dragging along his thigh, “Maybe we should call the police.”

“I...think someone already did.” Chimney informed Buck as he stared at the sudden appearance of Sergeant Athena Grant at his door.

“What? What do you mean?” Buck hastily questioned, leaning against the kitchen island. He could just faintly hear Athena speaking on Chimney’s end of the phone, “Chimney? What’s going on?”

“Athena was sent to my apartment. Hang on, Buck, I’m just gonna tell Athena what’s going on.”

Buck stepped away from the island to settle on the stairs to the loft, impatiently waiting for Chimney to finish speaking. That fear of losing pieces of his life expanded deep in his gut, just like the times Maddie left in his childhood. That fear of being left behind.

“What’s she’s saying now?”

“She’s making her case.” Chim whispered as he continued to eavesdrop on Athena’s call with her higher-ups, “Now she’s folding like a cheap suit.”

“All right, let me talk to Athena.” Buck demanded antsy to figure out the situation that clearly had something wrong. That fear he’d thought of early flared catching the tail end of Athena’s conversation, “No! No, no. We can’t just send in SWAT. If there is someone inside the call centre doing something, they’ll know we’re onto them.”

Unfortunately, Buck was correct in this thought process, all thanks to living with a SWAT member. He knew these things after the years he’d been with you.

“Maddie? I think I can sneak up to Terry’s computer. Maybe get eyes on the place-”

“No!” Terry nearly shouted, stiffening when Cue Ball hesitated in the doorway at his sudden shouts. You all held your breath for his reaction, but thankfully he was called away by one of the men, “They have-”

“Terry, I need you to calm down. I’m familiar with these types of situations. I’m SWAT. I need to get on top of this. Don’t be a hero.”

Maddie’s head began to shake when your arm was roughly grabbed by Greg, “Your turn.”

You were separated from Josh and Maddie, but instead of being pushed into one of the dispatcher seats, you were pulled to the original hallway.

“I don’t like how friendly you are with them.” Greg spat, shoving you to rest against the wall, “Don’t move.”

You catch the eyes of Maddie with an apologetic expression before you used the pacing routine to sneak away. You didn’t release your breath until you were attaching your holder to your hip in the change room. By now, your team would be aware that something was wrong, Hondo would be hell-bent on finding you.

Until you had help, you were on your own.

You used each blindspot of the cameras in the halls to the stairwell, and you used a broom to adjust the cameras. The cameras not kept you from view but not appearing suspicious. Once at the floor where Terry was practically always at you softly closed the door.

You’d only started to sit down when you heard the ding of the elevator, “Shit.”

You slipped into the closest containing extra parts if anything broke. Through the crack, you saw Terry being held at gunpoint. The gunman that had been holding the tablet on the floor, Ellis as you’d heard.

“You’re telling me every cop in the city has just disappeared?” Ellis demanded as Terry, and he disappeared around one of the corners. The tapping of a screen indicating Ellis was searching for something with Terry’s involuntary help.

“I’m telling you, I don’t know!” Terry snapped back, creating even more tension in the room, but Ellis didn’t move to grab his gun.

Ellis appeared to the only one reluctant to discharge your weapon, unlike Cue Ball, who just happened to join the party.

“Figure it out!” Ellis spat, turning on his heel at the sound of approaching footsteps. You could see him roll his eyes at his team member walking into the room.

“What’s going on here?” Cue ball questioned the duo in different kinds of distress, and you swore Cue Ball enjoyed the intimidation from his teammate and the IT specialist.

“That police car’s not the only one that’s gone dark.” Ellis nervously spoke, stiffening for the volatile reaction that one could expect from Foster.

“You think they know we’re here?”

“Foster, it could be a system glitch.” Ellis offered keeping one eye on Cue Ball while monitoring Terry’s work as well.

Cue Ball spoke a sentence that sent chills up your spine, “Time to cut our losses.”

As Foster and Ellis began going over their personal plans made out of Greg’s knowledge, you noticed Terry glance over. His eyes widened slightly before quickly looking away when you raised a finger across your lips.

“We can go down the back stairs. I have a car waiting around the corner, we split the art up between the five of us, and we go our separate ways.�� Foster spoke, revealing his plan to double-cross Greg, which in all honesty made sense. Greg was ill-fitting to be in charge of their operation, unable to control his lackeys.

“I like that part of the deal.” Ellis breathed, skirting around the trigger happy criminal only to halt in his steps, “Wait, you’ve got a car parked down the street? You were always gonna double-cross Greg.”

“You weren’t?”

“If we’re gonna do this, you can’t just sell famous works of art on eBay.”

“You can’t sell them from prison either.”

At that moment, something almost shifted in the area, something that made you pull your gun from your holster. Your body telling you something was about to happen. It happened in a split second. Foster fled the room leaving only Ellis just outside. With Terry frantically shaking his head, you tiptoed to the unsuspecting criminal.

“LAPD!” You shouted, pointing your gun towards the shocked man, “Put the gun down and put your hands up.”

“Aren’t you a dispatcher?” Ellis questioned, blinking in surprise.

“Aren’t you supposed to be intelligent? Next time check the schedule I haven’t worked here in years.” You spat, keeping your gun pointed on him, “Do I say-”

The sound of two guns going off made Terry flinch and scream as he instinctively dropped to the ground. IT was supposed to be safe, but Terry had now heard three gunshots in under two hours. He really didn’t want to see the outcome of the shots.

A moan coaxed Terry to peek out through the privacy glass. Ellis was on the ground while you kept your gun on him. He didn’t see anything else when the power went out. He didn’t see you drop to your knees, but he heard you.

“Terry...get down. Lay on your stomach with your hands insight, and don’t move.” You informed the terrified IT just as the floor was swarmed.

“Put the gun down!” The sound of Tan’s voice was welcoming as you slowly placed the gun on the ground. “25-David I have Y/L/N. The suspect is down, need medical.”

You got back to your feet when Tan nodded his head, “Thank god. There’s a possible body in the IT room along with the It Specialist Terry.”

“You got your badge on you?” Tan questioned as he cuffed the moaning Ellis up, “Street can you escort her down?”

Street nodded from his position, watching Tan’s back before guiding you to the stairs with hawk eyes. Even off duty, you kept your head on a swivel.

“You caused quite the commotion.” Street spoke halfway down the stairs when you barely mumbled. He caught you as you went down like a sack of potatoes, “Y/N!”

“Adrenaline is crashing.” You moaned, looking at your shoulder where the maroon had grown darker, “I think he shot me.”

“26-David I’m in the stairway. Prepare a medic.” Street spoke into his radio before he strapped the gun away and swept you into his arms, “Think you can have my back?”

“When don’t I?” You wheezed, with the sweat starting to bead on your forehead. As you crashed from adrenaline, you barely noticed being placed on the ground at the main entrance.

A paramedic cutting your borrowed shirt to reveal the bullet hole in your shoulder courtesy of Ellis, the only member who’d thought wouldn’t shoot his gun. You could vaguely hear Maddie calling out your name as you were loaded onto a gurney.

“M-Maddie?” You spoke, tilting your head to see Chris holding Maddie back from, “Chris! That’s my sister in law.”

Chris only let Maddie go when Hondo gave the all-clear, and you were so thankful when Maddie’s hand encased yours.

“Don’t close your eyes.” Maddie pleaded sick with the amount of blood on your skin and soaking through the gauze, “Who’s gonna help me put up with my little brother?”

“Buck.” You breathed sluggishly, blinking as the artificial lights changed to natural with the gun shining through the glass front doors.

“You didn’t let me close mine in that ambulance, so I need you to do the same. Don’t close them. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.” Maddie cried as an officer pulled her aside as you were stopped. You wouldn’t remember it, but Maddie had to watch as you coded right in front of her.

Maddie had to watch them perform CPR on you and fight for a pulse. She had to think of how’d she’d tell her little brother she’d killed his fiance. The counting of the paramedics sounded as if underwater, and as they did, the world went quiet. Her mind checked out as the trauma settled in.

Maddie stumbled out of the building into a zoo of officers, medics, and news reporters almost robotically. She barely felt Chimney hug her, but she wrapped her arms around him and sobbed.

“It’s all my fault.” Maddie gasped, collapsing against him, “If I had-”

“Maddie?”

Chimney felt Maddie stiffen at the sound of Buck’s voice amidst the multiple voices milling around. Maddie raised her gaze to meet Buck’s blue eyes dripping in relief and question.

“Buck.”

“Maddie, where’s Y/N? Her car…” Buck trailed off, catching the utter heartbreak in his big sister’s eyes. A look he’d come to know in his line of work as a firefighter. The utter devastation that came with watching someone you love die, “No. No.”

“I got a pulse!” Came from the nearest ambulance, and Buck skirted around his sister and Chimney, “Ready to transport!”

Your eyes slowly blinked at the white ceiling of the ambulance with pain in your midsection courtesy of chest compressions. Breathing came painful, and the bullet wound throbbed, but it all faded when you saw blue eyes above you.

“Buck.” You sobbed, more like groaned, as he was urged to sit on the bench holding your hand, “Maddie?”

“She’s okay. Chim’s got her. Can you keep your eyes on me? I need to see those big beautiful e/c eyes.” Buck soothed, bringing your hand to his lips, “Did I ever tell you my favourite colour?”

Despite Buck’s best attempts, you continued fading in and out of consciousness but continued to be stable. He spoke about the funny video Eddie had shown him of Christopher at the end of their shift last night. He talked about everything and anything under the sun during the short ride to the hospital.

The last thing you saw was Buck being held back as the paramedics pushed the gurney into the ER. Everything turned black.

The beeping was the first thing you heard before your eyes fluttered open to a stark white room and that unmistakable hospital scent. You noticed the second thing as Buck holding your hand in both of his with his forehead pressed against them.

“Buck?” You moaned to the one person you had wished to see. The man whose eyes were bloodshot from crying, “What’s wrong?”

“Your heart stopped beating twice. I thought I was gonna lose you.” Buck cried with his lips pressed against your hand, “I was so worried.”

“Hey. I’m fine. I’m here.” You cooed, tugging one hand away to run through his messy hair with a soft smile. His blue eyes brighten at the familiar feeling of your digits in his hair, “I’m not going anywhere. This isn’t here for decoration.”

His eyes found the ring he’d gently placed back on your finger from when the nurses had removed it. It only left your finger when you were on duty, in which it was slung on a necklace hidden under your uniform.

“Better not be.”

“Does the hospital have a chapel?” You questioned out of the blue leading to Buck snorting as you giggled, “I’m serious. When I was bleeding in that building, all I could think about was you. If Maddie is anything like you, she’s waiting in the waiting room with Chimney.”

“You aren’t wrong. All the chairs are taken. Our family was waiting for you to wake up.” Buck breathed, leaning closer to press a sweet kiss to your lips, “Are you sure?”

“About marrying you?” You softly questioned the man who couldn’t help but believe this was a dream. How he’d somehow got the girl of his dreams to agree to marry his ass, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. All I want to share is your last name for the rest of my life. You are it for me, Evan Buckley. All the flaws you see are beautiful to me.”

“Only you would want to get married after being shot mere hours ago.” Buck chuckled with a sigh pulled from his pink lips, “I’ll get the doctor for you and find out if we can be married here.”

While you were checked out, Buck left the room to go back to the waiting room where the 118 and your co-workers waited. Everyone perked up at his appearance, Christopher asleep on Eddie’s lap.

“Is she okay?” Bobby questioned as the tension in the room grew more and more. It shattered into relief when Buck grinned.

“She’s sore as expected. She’s gonna catch some sleep, but she’d like to see Maddie.” Buck replied, pinning his gaze on his big sister with her curled into Chimney’s body. Her cheeks flooded with tears of absolute relief, “C’mon.”

The waiting room started emptying with Buck’s promise to keep everyone updated, but before Bobby could step away, Buck asked for him.

“Do you need a few days off?” Bobby questioned just as Buck came closer to the seasoned firefighter.

“No. But could you spare an hour?” The expression on Buck’s face was enough for Bobby not to ask any further questions. He simply followed Buck back towards your hospital room, where Maddie and Chim waited.

“What’s going on?” Bobby inquired, with the addition of the hospital assigned Priest holding the standard bible. Chimney could only shrug in response to whatever was going on.

“I know there have been times we haven’t seen eye to eye, but Bobby, you’re like a father to me. You gave me chance after chance when anyone else would have given up. You guided me on how to be a man. Y/N and I would like it if you’d be here for this.”

“Wait, are you getting married? What about the wedding?” Maddie spluttered, flicking her gaze between her brother and you. Her question surprised her boyfriend and Bobby.

“We’ll still have it. But I want to marry her without the pressure of our parents. Just a private ceremony with some of the people that mean the most to us.” Buck answered for the two of you, “Would you stay?”

“Of course.” Maddie softly spoke with a slideshow of memories playing in her mind of watching Buck grow up.

Watching Evan go through all kinds of injuries, all in the name of attention but never getting it the way he deserved it. She remembered giving him advice for asking out Donna and holding him when he was rejected. The little toddler with the impish grin somehow turned into an idiot in the hospital.

Maddie saw the man her little brother had turned into with the help of the 118 and you.

Buck’s fingers made quick work of buttoning his short-sleeve uniform with the sudden appearance of his friend.

“That’s new.” Eddie spoke from his opened locker holding his uniform and a picture of his family on the door. It was a picture of Christopher, Buck, you and Eddie from the zoo a couple months back.

Buck looked over at his best friend, “Hm?”

“The ring.” Eddie snorted dramatically, looking at the ring that had been living on his finger since he married you five days ago, “Did my invite get lost in the mail?”

“Nah, we just got married in the hospital. We’re still planning the wedding to appease both sides of our family. And I promised Christopher he could be in the wedding. With Y/N on medical leave, the planning will be faster. She’s going stir crazy after five days.” Buck finished tucking in the shirt into his work-issued pants. Lastly, he slid his ring onto the metal chain he had bought recently.

Like you did, he would wear it around his neck when working for safety reasons.

“I’m happy for you, man.” Eddie told his friend just as the bell rang, “You’ll have to tell me how you’re liking the married life.”

“But first, we have a job to do.” Buck supplied all the while jogging to suit up in his turnout gear with Hen and Chimney.

#evan buckley imagines #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley x fem!reader #evan buckley oneshot #911 imagines #911 oneshots #oliver stark #evan buck buckley #evan buckley x y/n #evan buckley x you #caitsy and ash productions

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jackie-shitposts · 3 years ago

Text

I Thought Thieves Love Jules!

Carmen strolled out of the elevator, feeling pretty beat after her workout with Shadowsan. Not that she would ever admit that- she had wanted to keep going, but it had only been two days since she got electrocuted in Egypt, so Shadowsan made her cut her workout short while he continued. Carmen sauntered over to the counter, taking a long drink from her water bottle, just as Player’s image appeared on her laptop screen. “Check it out, Red. Julia just posted a new entry on her blog, about a recent find in Columbia.” Player said, ”But it totally digresses into fun facts about fair trade coffee, including a “Red Blend.” Carmen leaned onto the counter. “Could be another riddle to solve?” “Good thing I learned a thing or two about code-breaking from Julia.” Player smirked, clearly excited to show off his new skills. “Every paragraph ends with a number. If you line ‘em up like they're a date and time, it’s tomorrow at 8am.” “Seems Chief wants an opportunity to thank me over coffee.” Carmen quirked an eyebrow. Seems as though she’d be seeing her favorite agent-turned-historian-turned-agent-again in the field, per Chief’s request. “How can you be sure it’s not a trap?” Player asked apprehensively. “If it were, Jules would’ve worded it differently.”

“OoOoO, are we talking about Jules?” Zack asked, peeking his head out from the doorway.

“That ACME gal Carm has a crush on?” Ivy chimed in, peeking her own head out from under her brother.

Carmen rolled her eyes at the sibling’s cartoonish antics. “Jules and I are just friends, you two.”

Ivy scoffed, entering the room and flopping onto the couch. “Yeah right- then why did you specifically go to her when you needed help decoding the relics?”

Carmen casually took a sip of her water before answering. “Jules was already familiar with VILE- getting a stranger involved would’ve only made things more complicated and dangerous than it already was.” Zack hopped onto the couch opposite of Ivy, resting his feet up on her knees. He pointedly ignored Ivy’s protests of, “Zack, gross!” and smirked at Carmen. “Oh? Then why did you ask Devineaux where she was in Louisiana?” “Hey, you never told me about that one!” Ivy gasped, feigning betrayal. “I was just surprised ACME let that driving disaster use a car,” Carmen quipped. Player laughed on his side of the screen. “Don’t act like you’re any better, Red. Don’t you remember your first caper?”

Carmen gasped, pretending to be insulted. “Says the 17 year old without a learners permit.”

“Not like I have anywhere to go.” Player laughed, before refocusing on Carmen’s interrogation. “Speaking of firsts, how about when you first met Julia? I listened in, and it totally sounded like you were flirting with her. You called her “Jules” on your first meeting!” Carmen narrowed her eyes at Player in defiance. “I was just sitting across from Jules so I could blend in while keeping an eye on Paper Star. And what’s wrong with nicknames? I called Crackle “Gray” and Ivy “Ives”. I don’t see what the difference is.” “The difference is that you and Cracker used to be best friends, and now we are best friends. However, you and Jules were not friends at the time.” Ivy said, emphasizing the nickname. “His name is Crackle now.” “He went and rejoined VILE, I think I get to call Gary whatever I want.” Player chimed back into the conversation. “Why did you leave the Magna Cartas with Julia, anyway? You had one conversation with her, what made you think leaving them with her meant they were in “good hands?” “While sitting next to her, I noticed Devineaux’s briefcase, and she said they were travel partners on business. I figured that meant they were law enforcement also trying to recover the documents. Leaving them with Jules simply saved me the hassle of returning the documents myself.” Carmen explained casually. “What about the fashion show in Milan, Carm? Why’d you have Julia help us then?” Zack asked, a shit-eating grin plastered onto his face. Carmen sighed in annoyance. Why won’t they just get off her back about this already? “Jules was the only ACME agent around, and I knew that ACME would be able to get the gowns to safety. And before you ask,” Carmen pointed at Ivy, whose mouth was already open with some smug retort, “I put her in charge instead of you because she would know where the gowns could be put for ACME to return.” At that, Ivy simply leaned back onto the couch and mirrored her brother’s smug grin. “Yeah, that was a fun night.” She smirked, and Zack tried to hold back his laugh that came out as more of a snort. Carmen raised her brow at the untold story, but she decided not to press. For the sake of her sanity.

“Well, what about Stockholm?” Zack blurted. Ivy and Player’s eyes snapped to Carmen, looking for any hint of discomfort, and Zack immediately tried to rectify the situation. “I-I mean, yknow, you just were gonna go try to get her help before-”

Carmen cut off his anxious rambling, smiling warmly. “Don’t worry about it Zack, I know what you mean. I wanted to talk to Jules to see if she could get ACME to back off. While that obviously didn’t happen, I know Jules didn’t try to betray me.” Carmen glanced out the window for a moment, whispering quietly to herself. “I don’t think I could be angry at her if I tried.” Carmen turned back to her friends and smiled. “Plus, she helped me out in Monaco and Ile De L'oleron afterwards, so-” Player practically leapt up from his chair, causing a loud crash as he knocked the fidget spinners off his desk and dropped the rubix cute he was playing with. “Yeah, let's talk about Monaco! You can’t tell me you guys weren’t flirting at the party. She was so confident you were going to deliver the goods to her door, and you trusted her not to stop you when you stole the eggs. Come on, Red, you know she was flirting with you!” Carmen felt Zack and Ivy’s eyes on her expectantly, and she chuckled at Player’s exasperation. “Player, I’m pretty good at reading people, and I’m fairly certain she wasn’t flirting with me. Even if she was, I was not flirting ba-” “Then what about the roses?”

Carmen’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. How did Zack, of all people, know about the roses?

“Oh my god, the roses! Carm, why the fuck didn’t you tell us about the roses?” Ivy exclaimed, springing up from her relaxed position on the couch.

Carmen bit her lip before answering. “They were just flowers, as a thank you gift for the help. How do you know about them, anyway? I didn’t buy them until after you guys left.”

At that, Player piped up once again. “So Red, you know how at the end of each month, I look through our funds and see how much we spend on capers, to set our budget for the next month? Well, it was pretty interesting for me to see that you used our encrypted card to buy a bouquet of red roses from the flower shop across the street from Julia’s apartment, on the same day we left her the goods.”

Fuck. Carmen needed to shut this down, now. “They were just a thank you gift guys, nothing more. Just something Jules could keep for herself. And red is my color, so the roses seemed like a good gift. Now if you’ll excuse me,” Carmen glared at the redheads sternly, daring them to stop her, before looking down at Player with the same forbidding look. ”I’m going to take a shower. Player, let me know when you’ve got a red eye to Seattle ready.” Carmen closed the laptop, tucked it under her arm and walked out of the room without looking back. ~~~

The video call flickered to black, and Player leaned back into his chair, sighing. Red can be so thick-headed sometimes. As he booked her flight, he thought back to their teasing and banter from moments before.

Red seemed pretty genuine- maybe we were wrong after all.

Player took a deep breath- he didn’t want to call Carmen back so soon, especially when she seemed pretty pissed at the end of their last call- but he had booked her flight for a short two hours from now. So, Player reconnected to Carmen’s laptop, still looking at the red eye information on his other monitor, before hearing a loud, exasperated groan coming from his speakers.

“Holy fuck that was such a mess!”

Player’s head snapped towards his other monitor. The laptop had been set on the dresser across from Carmen’s bed, where she was laying sprawled out in agony. Player quickly hit his mute button and sat back to watch.

Carmen’s arms raised up to cover her face- though Player couldn’t see it, he was sure her face was covered in her signature color. “God, and the roses- why did I use the card for the roses? That’s a basic credit card slip, how am I so stupid!”

Carmen sat up, hands still over her flushed face. “I’m so fucking lucky they didn’t hear us on the ferry or at her office, there’s no way they would’ve ever let that go- I thought I wasn’t being obvious about this stupid crush-

That was all the confirmation Player needed. He clicked unmute and nearly shouted, “So you do have a crush on Julia! I knew it!”

Carmen’s head snapped up to the source of the sound, her face as red as her coat hanging on the wall’s hook. “Player! What the fuck are you-” Carmen froze as she watched Player pick up his cell phone. “Player, if you do what I think you’re about to-”

“Then what? You’re two thousand miles away Red, I'm practically untouchable.” He laughed and grinned smugly at the webcam as he dialed a number.

“Player, you are so dead next time I visit Ontario!” Carmen yelled before she threw her door open, barrelling down the hall to the stairway.

~~~

Zack and Ivy watched in silence as Carmen walked out of the room. When they heard the door to the stairway close, they looked at each other, before they couldn’t take it anymore and burst into laughter.

“Holy shit she looked so mad!” Ivy wheezed through her laughing fit.

“I know! Do you think that means she was telling the truth?” Zack questioned as he tried (and failed) to calm his giggles.

“No way.”

“But she seemed pretty-”

“What are you two laughing about?” Shadowsan’s stern voice stopped the twin’s giggling dead in its tracks. Just as Ivy opened her mouth to make an excuse, since she doubted Carmen wanted Shadowsan involved in her love life, (he is like her father, isnt he?) Zack spoke up.

“We tried to get Carm to confess that she likes Julia, but she kept on telling us she just likes Julia as a friend. Maybe she wasn’t lying, most of her reasons were pretty solid.” Ivy would’ve smacked him then and there if Shadowsan hadn’t interrupted her train of thought with a small chuckle. Since when did Shadowsan chuckle? “On VILE Island, Carmen was trained to be a master of deception. Do you not realize that she was also trained to survive any interrogation?” Shadowsan said, with…humor in his voice? Zack and Ivy were silent for a moment. “Wait, does that mean she actually does like Ju-” The moment was interrupted with a call on Ivy’s phone. When she looked at the caller ID, her eyes widened as she answered it and put the device on speaker. “Carmen does have a crush on Julia!” Player shouted from the phone, just as the Crimson Gay Ghost herself burst into the room and crashed into Ivy. “Dammit!” Carmen yelled, taking the phone from Ivy who was now on the floor with Carmen and laughing. “Player, I’m going to fly to Ontario and kick your ass!” Player’s laughing from the phone was almost drowned out by Zack and Ivy’s. “Oh no you’re not, you’ve got a flight to catch in two hours!” “OoOh where to? To go see your “favorite ACME agent”?” Ivy teased through her laughter. “Yeah Carm, I thought thieves love Jules!” Zack said as he laughed. Carmen jumped off of Ivy, her voice a noticeably higher pitch and her face extremely red as she shouted, “No! I mean- well, that is- I just-” As Zack, Ivy and Player continued to tease an extremely red-faced and stammering Carmen, Shadowsan smiled and quietly walked out of the room. It seems the war may be coming to a close with ACME on their side, but that doesn’t mean Carmen has to stop chasing someone.

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crackheadgeminibby · 4 years ago

Text

mistakes were made

pairing: chris evans x black!reader

warnings: language, age gap, angst, mentions of sex TW body insecurities and talk of weight gain

word count: 2.9k

i do not consent to my work being copied in any way, shape or form or reposted on any other platform

picture credit: screengrab from "Captain America Dinner Party" on youtube

You finish getting dressed and pick up everything you need to go for a run. As you’re walking down the last steps, you see that Chris is sitting on the couch, working on something on his computer. You come up behind him and softly kiss his temple before saying,

“Hey baby. I just put Emma to sleep and I’m gonna go for a run. Can you just pay attention and make sure she doesn’t wake up, please?”

Chris absentmindedly nods and mutters a “be careful”. You faintly smile and roll your eyes at his unwavering concentration but make sure to turn the volume of the baby monitor all the way up before leaving.

You go out through the garage and smile up at the sky, feeling the heat of the sun warming up your face.

You start to run the route you used to before getting pregnant with your baby girl. Last Sunday, it had been five months since your bundle of joy had been born. As much as you utterly adored her and the experience of carrying your own child, you had not appreciated the effect that the pregnancy had on your body.

On the contrary, most mothers-to-be were described as glowing and full of new energy but while you were pregnant, you always felt like you were about to get a cold and you had put on so much weight that you could barely recognize yourself. You had thought that it was only the pregnancy hormones changing your body that way as you were still very young, but today, five months after giving birth, your body had stayed the same and that certainly was not helping your confidence.

You weren’t sure if Chris had noticed your insecurities that manifested themselves by you eating almost the same meager meals every day and pushing away all sorts of sexual interactions with him. Since he had never mentioned anything or ever seemed frustrated with you, you thought he simply didn’t notice it or just didn't mind it.

Lost in your thoughts, you’re back home before you know it. As you’re entering the garage, you faintly hear Chris’ voice travel through the house all the way to you. Slightly confused, you assume that he must have forgotten to tell you he had an appointment or something, so you make sure to be as silent as possible to not disturb him.

“Bro, I know, it’s fucking crazy. I actually have my own child now.”

You smile softly at his excitement. You’re downing a bottle of water you took from the fridge when your ears perk up at your name coming out of Chris’ mouth.

“Oh, Y/N? Yeah, you know, she’s fine, she's good.”

Tilting your head slightly, you try to understand the sudden shift in Chris’ mood: even from two rooms away, you could feel his energy change.

“No, it’s fine, it’s just that she’s been kind of weird since the baby.”

You frown at hearing Chris say that. He never mentioned anything to you so why the hell was he talking about it with whoever was on the other end of the phone?

“No but like bro, look, it’s like this. I’ll be out all day doing whatever, and then when I come home, she’s all over me, being super clingy and all. Like, she will literally not let me go anywhere. But then, whenever I try to ease the mood into, you know, something more sexual, she just shuts down and says that Emma needs some food or something and she leaves. Then, when she comes back, she’s practically running from me like I have the fucking plague or something!”

As Chris is listening to what the person on the phone is responding, you start to feel a knot in your throat and you know that if you don’t do anything soon, you’re going to be full-on sobbing. As you’re working on your breathing and a plan, you hear Chris say,

“Dude, I literally thought the same thing. I swear. But, when we went for her check-up a little after she gave birth, the doctor said we couldn’t have sex for 6 weeks. It’s been like 20 weeks now!”

Unable to contain your emotions any longer, you leave your water bottle on the counter and run back to the garage, as silently as you can. Once in the safety of the garage, tears stream down your face as you let out a sob that brings you to your knees. You let yourself cry for what feels like forever, but you know it must not have been more than 5 minutes.

When you start to calm down, you focus on finding a plan to make sure Chris didn’t know that you were eavesdropping on his phone conversation. You take deep breaths before wiping your face and fixing your appearance as best as you can while using the rear-view mirror of your car.

Once you’re certain that you can’t do anything more, you take a final breath before opening the door and slamming it loud enough for Chris to hear that you’re in the house. As you’re approaching the living room, and thus, the staircase leading to your room, you faintly hear Chris say, “Yeah, man. I’ll talk to you later.”

You pass behind him while keeping your head held high and not giving him a single glance. As you start to climb up the stairs, you see that Chris is turning towards you.

“Hey baby, I didn’t hear you come back. How was your run?”

You take a deep breath before answering as calmly as you can, “Fine. I’m going to take a shower.”

Chris hesitates for a second before responding, “Um, okay, I’ll start dinner then.”

You don’t answer and run up the last couple of stairs as you feel your resolve crumbling. You hurriedly take some random clothes and a towel before locking yourself in the en suite bathroom. As soon as the door is closed, you put your hand over your mouth as a cry escapes you again. You put your clothes and towel on the counter before sitting in front of your bathtub. You don’t know how long you stay there, stifling your cries, but you suddenly hear the doorknob jiggling before a loud knock resonates through the bathroom.

“Y/N? You okay in there? I heard some weird noises.”

You clear your throat as softly as you can before answering, “I’m fine, I just stubbed my toe.” You cringe as your voice breaks halfway through your sentence.

The doorknob jiggles again before you hear, “Are you sure? And why is the door locked? You never lock it.”

“Uh... I'm on my period.”

You roll your eyes at your dumb and illogical excuse but it was going to have to do for now.

Before Chris can say anything else, you start the shower, rapidly take your clothes off and step inside. Both Chris and you knew that when the shower water was on, it was almost impossible to hear anything else in the bathroom.

You spend at least an hour under the scalding water, and you finally get out as you see a glimpse of the time on the bathroom clock: 6:45pm. It was time to start getting Emma ready for bed and you knew that she rarely slept through the night if you weren't the one to put her to bed. Knowing that this meant that nobody in the house would really get any sleep, you reluctantly turn off the shower water and get out of the shower.

As you’re toweling off, you can faintly hear music coming from outside of the bathroom. You put on the clothes you had taken from your room and put them on.

How ironic. You were wearing the same shirt from the first time Chris had told you he loved you. You smile bitterly as you look at the shirt in the mirror and pick up the rest of your things before getting out of the bathroom.

You walk into your shared bedroom with Chris and immediately recognize “Wicked Games” by The Weeknd. You roll your eyes as you remember the time you had told Chris that, for whatever reason, The Weeknd’s 2010s phase could always get you in the mood. You take your time doing your skincare routine before taking care of your workout clothes.

After finishing in your bedroom, you close the door and head to Emma’s room to get her ready for bed. However, you frown confusedly as you see that everything in Emma’s room is clean and organized. Emma is clearly changed, dressed in her nighttime pyjamas, tucked in and soundly asleep while Dodger is snoring in front of her crib. You smile softly. Even before Emma was born, Dodger was extremely protective of her and when she was born, he was practically attached to her hip. Wherever Emma was, Dodger was also there.

You’re watching Emma and Dodger sleep, a seemingly permanent smile on your face when you suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn around rapidly and slightly jerk away from Chris when he attempts to put a hand on your arm. He frowns slightly before saying,

“I got Emma ready for bed and dinner’s ready downstairs.”

You sigh and walk around Chris before making your way downstairs as you hear his soft footsteps behind you. When you turn the corner to enter the living room, your breath slightly hitches as you see that Chris has set a candlelit dinner table. Chris softly sets his hands on your shoulders and starts to gently massage them as he says,

“I made spaghetti with chicken parm, your favorite. And extra cheese, just how you like it.”

As your resolve starts to crumble, Chris’ words from earlier in the day echo in your mind. The memory makes you instantly tense up and you let out a shaky breath while trying to control your emotions. To take the focus off of you, you sit down and start to serve Chris and yourself some water. You hear Chris sigh loudly before he sits down in front of you. He serves you a hearty serving of pasta with a whole chicken breast before serving himself. Chris looks at you, clearly hesitating to say anything for a couple of seconds while you’re poking at your food before saying,

“So, I thought you would like the chicken parm tonight since you seemed kind of down after your run.”

You let go of your fork, which loudly hits your plate, and put your head in your hands before you say, “Oh my God, Chris, I can’t fucking do this.”

“Woah, Y/N, you can't do what? What's wrong?”, Chris asks, shocked.

“What’s wrong, Christopher, is that I heard you on the phone this afternoon. Talking about how I’m supposedly clingy and never want to have sex with you anymore.”

Chris visibly tenses up as he hears your statement and stammers trying to find an excuse to justify his behavior.

“Wait, I… I can explain.”

You hold your hand up, signifying to Chris that you’re not done.

“First of all, you have absolutely no right to talk to anybody about our sex life without at least asking me first, which you know I would absolutely not agree with. Second of all, you should know by now that if you have any problems with me, you come to me. You don’t go talking to some random person about it behind my back.”

You angrily get up from the table and narrow your eyes at Chris as you continue.

“And third, not that you deserve any justification whatsoever for me not wanting to have sex with you, but I gained weight, Chris. Way too much weight. I find myself fat and gross and I didn’t want you to see my body and think the exact same things I think every single time I see myself in the mirror.”

You sniffle as you realize that you had been crying.

“And you can help yourself to the couch tonight.”

You walk up the stairs and, mindful to not wake Emma up, you softly close your bedroom door. You immediately snuggle into the covers while soft sobs rake through your body. You’re not sure how long you lay there crying but you eventually fall asleep from exhaustion.

You groggily wake up a couple of hours later while the sun is starting to rise as you hear Emma’s cries on the baby monitor. You rub your eyes as you get out of the bed and head over to her room. You take Emma out of her crib and immediately identify that her diaper is full. You feel your headache from crying developing further as you’re changing Emma.

When you’re finished, you take Emma in your arms and bounce her up and down while softly humming to help her fall back asleep with Dodger dutifully following you.

You head downstairs in search of painkillers for your headache while continuing to hum to Emma. While passing through the living room, you can see Chris’ head resting on the couch armrest. As Dodger spots him, he heads over to him and whines softly before setting himself at the end of the couch, prepared to fall back asleep.

You chuckle slightly before downing the painkillers and heading back up to Emma’s room, ready to put her back in bed. You set her down and tuck her in before exhaling softly and heading back to your bedroom.

Your headache and the painkillers had effectively made you exhausted again as you fall asleep almost as soon as your head hits the pillow.

When you finally wake up for the day, you groan at the faint traces of your headache still present. You look over at your nightstand and see that it’s now 7:30am. You roll your eyes at this. You had barely slept an additional hour.

Figures. You never really slept that well when Chris wasn't in bed with you.

As your senses start to really awaken, you smell some coffee and hear the shower running for a couple of seconds after which, it stops.

Before you know it, Chris walks out of the bathroom, body steaming, with a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. He suddenly stops in his tracks as he realizes you’re awake.

God… Even when he pissed you off, he was still hot as fuck.

He lightly clears his throat before saying, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up. I just wanted to take a shower after my workout.”

You gently shake your head before responding with a raspy voice, “You didn’t wake me, it’s fine.”

Chris nods his head once before tightly smiling. You can feel the tension in the room as Chris stands in front of the bathroom door and looks anywhere but at you. After a couple of seconds, he softly sniffles and croaks, “Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

You sit up in the bed and lean on the headboard as you frown softly. Chris makes his way to you and softly sits on his side of the bed with his head hung. You can see from the various expressions that are passing on his face that he’s trying to find the words to talk to you

“I didn’t really sleep last night because I kept thinking about what you said. And I realized how much of an asshole I was.” He balls up his fists as he shakes his head and continues, “I never should have talked about any of those things with Matt and I’m so sorry that I did. I’m also sorry that I never came to talk to you, like a grown man, and instead just talked about you behind your back.”

Chris hesitantly reaches for your hands and takes them into his when he sees that you’re not negatively reacting to him while tears are dropping on the covers.

“Above all, I’m especially sorry that I ever made you feel like I wasn’t there for you and like you couldn’t come to me. I really didn’t know how you felt about yourself and it breaks my heart that I let you go through this alone when I should have been there to support you after Emma was born."

He shrugs gently before finishing with, "And for what it’s worth, I think you’re as beautiful now as you were while you were pregnant and before you got pregnant.”

Chris looks up at you with red eyes as he waits for you to say something. You open and close your mouth multiple times as you’re trying to find the right words to respond to him.

You finally settle on, “I don’t know that I can forgive you right now, Chris. What you did really hurt me. Like a lot.”

Chris’ head slightly hangs down before you finish with, “However, I don’t think it would be beneficial to our family for us to be apart right now.”

As soon as he hears this, Chris’ head snaps up, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“I’m gonna need space and time to work through this but I believe that our relationship is stronger than this.”

Chris nods excitedly and bites his bottom lip before asking, “Is it okay if I hug you?”

You lightly nod your head and chuckle slightly as Chris practically throws himself at you. He rests his head in the crook of your neck before whispering “I love you so much, Y/N.”

Without hesitation, you whisper back, “I love you too, Chris.”

If there was something that you knew would never change is that you loved Chris, forever and always.

#chris evans #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x woc #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfics

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uwuwriting · 4 years ago

Text

Breaking in w/ Hawks, Shoto and Dabi

Request: I read another post about ppl breaking in your shared house with the boys not knowing that you are inside and hurting you and I was like well this would be interesting with their kids in the mix. So i'm here to provide you with the following request ppl breaking in and immobilizing you while you're still awake and they try to go into your kids’ room with Shoto, Hawks and maybe Dabi or Aizawa- anonymous

Oh this is a nice little concept. It's very interesting. I’m happy to deliver. I have been devastated by chapter 290, if anyone hurts Shoto imma start a riot and if Dabi doesn’t kill Endeavor i will. I’m thinking of making a double post today so this one and a kny post but we’ll see. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warning: cursing, mentions of blood, crying but fluff in the end.

Hawks/Keigo Takami

-You were waiting for Keigo to come home after a long day.

-The twins were a nightmare to put to bed today and you were exhausted.

-Both of them wanted Keigo to tuck them in for some weird reason and they just wouldn’t accept your cuddles or attempts.

-So after a tiresome two hours of trying and failing to calm them down you called your husband on facetime and they went to bed.

- “I’ll be home soon, do you want me to bring you anything?”

- “No, no just you.”

-So after taking a shower and checking on the kids you relaxed on the couch, turning on the TV while scrolling though tik tok.

-Not even half an hour later you heard jiggling coming through the door.

-Assuming it was Keigo you got up and went to greet him but who you met at the entrance of your house was a complete stranger.

-You and the two bulgars stared at each other for a solid minute before you scrambled to get to the kids’ room and lock yourself in there.

-But one of them tackled you to the floor before you could reach the pastel colored door and pinned you down, binding your hands with a cloth.

- “I thought you said he wasn’t here man? What is this?”

-They had tied your legs to a chair, putting a makeshift gag in your mouth so you wouldn’t scream as they bickered back and forth.

-Your eyes kept darting from the front door to your kids’ room.

-He said he was almost home, he should be here at any moment.

- “Just stick to the plan, she doesn’t change anything.”

- “Doesn’t change anything? You tackled the n. 2 heros’ partner and you think that nothing is gonna happen?”

-You couldn’t care less about their words as you saw the light of the baby monitor light up.

-Eyes widening, you tried to get out of your restraints to turn it off but to no avail, the soft babbles of your son could be heard coming from the device sending the whole room into an uncomfortable silence.

-Before you know it, the one that tackled you pushed his partner towards you.

- “Keep her in check while I go pay a visit to the other room.”

-Managing to get the gag out of your mouth, your eyes frantic, you tried to reason with him.

- “I’ll give you whatever you want just stay away from that door, please.”

- “The number 2 hero has plenty of money. I bet he would be willing to give a handsome amount for that brat in there. What do you say babycakes?

- “Dude you’re taking it too far-”

- “Stay away from them!”

-You realized your mistake a little too late, the new information making the man's eyes light up.

-Two cries came from the twins’ room due to the commotion and your panic rose.

-But then you saw it.

-The single feather hovering over the mans’ head, as red and vibrant as ever.

-You let out a sigh of relief as a wave of red feathers flooded your living room, cutting you free from your restraints.

-Without missing a beat you sprinted to the door, stepping inside and locking it.

-Both of them were awake and teary eyed but at the sight of you they calmed down a bit.

-Taking them out of their cribs, you sat in the far corner with both of them in your lap waiting for the moment Keigo would knock on your door.

-One would assume that being part of the hero industry, although you weren’t a full blown hero yourself, mere bulgars wouldn’t really faze you.

-In reality you hadn’t been afraid for your own life, you couldn’t care less about yourself at that moment, but when you realized that they knew about the twins everything slowly fell apart.

-After what seemed like an eternity a soft knock came from the locked door.

- “Y/N, dove, open up.”

-Raising to your feet, you almost ripped the door handle out of position in your rush.

-Once Keigo came into view you didn’t miss a beat before pressing yourself close to his chest, the twins just happy to see their dad.

- “There are my favorite Takamis!” he said kissing their heads as his wings enclosed all of you.

- “Dove they are gone, don’t worry. I’m here. We’re alright.”

-The news report the next morning said that two men were found on the top of the police department butt naked.

Todoroki Shoto

-Poor man had merely gone to get take out.

-He hadn’t been gone for that long.

-But apparently the villains had been waiting for him to leave the house so they could go in.

-You were still inside with your daughters; the twins chasing each other in their matching onesies while you sat on the living room couch with your youngest.

-You heard the front door open suddenly and at first you assumed that Shoto had forgotten his wallet again.

-But the footsteps were too heavy and his voice didn’t echo through the entrance hall.

-He always said something when he came in and his footsteps have become lighter ever since the girls were born.

-Sensing that something was off you placed your toddler in her crib and motioned towards the twins.

- “Stay with your sister and no matter what you hear you do NOT come into the hallway. Understood?”

- “But what-”

- “Rei do I make myself clear?”

-Nodding their heads they took their seats in front of the crib, Ren squeezing her hand through the bars to gently grab her sister's chubby hand.

-Taking a deep breath you entered the hallway and lo and behold, two strangers were staring back at you.

- “Can I help you gentlemen?”

-After a few seconds the one closest to the door flung himself at you while the other one started digging through his pockets.

-Swiftly dodging the attack, you grabbed his wrist and swang him with incredible force to the wall, letting go of him as you turned your attention to the other one.

-And then you felt a sharp pain course up your right leg as a heaviness settled on your chest.

-The room began to spin while the air was knocked out of your lungs.

-You kneeled down, hand over your heart as you tried to use your quirk.

-Nothing happened though; it was like you didn’t have one at all.

- “Quirk cancelling bullets, aren’t they neat?”

-The man stared down at you as ever so slowly your senses came back at you.

- “I can still beat your ass even without a quirk.”

- “I don’t think you’ll do that.”

-Angry voices could be heard from the other room before the man you had slammed into the wall appeared again, blood dripping from his nose and onto the snow white hair of your daughter.

-Ren looked at you, tears forming in her eyes as a red flash of hair jumped onto the man.

-Rei was having none of it.

-Taking that opportunity you kicked the one in front of you in the groin before separating the girls from the other, sprinting into the living room, closing the sliding doors behind you.

-Laying the girls on the couch you grabbed one of the fireplace tools and got into a fighting position.

-Soon enough the door opened revealing none other than Shoto himself.

- “Are you all alright? Did they hurt you?”

-He looked absolutely disheveled, his hair going in different directions as his gaze frantically scanned all four of you, his eyes lingering at your slightly raised leg.

-The twins hopped off the couch and tackled his legs.

-Shoto crouched down hugging them both tightly as they started to sniffle into their dad’s chest.

- “T-they hurt mama and t-tried to hurt Ren.”

-He shot you a look but you waved him off, deciding to instead check on the baby before joining them on the living room floor.

- “I won’t let them touch you ever again, even if it's the last thing I do.”

Dabi/Touya Todoroki *I ain't never letting this go*

-In reality the dudes didn’t know you were preggos.

-You were too early on so you couldn’t tell you were preggo but still.

-They knew that you had something going with Dabi and that’s why they wanted to fuck with you.

-They thought that they would gain something from trying * key word trying * to take you.

-They were wrong though because a) they got their asses kicked by you and b) they got fried once Dabi found them.

-You were chilling at Dabis’ while he was out to get you some mustard and a chocolate bar because cravings, when you heard the door open.

-Immediately you knew it wasn’t Dabi.

-You would’ve heard him grumbling under his breath about forgetting to take money with him * bc you have been pushing him to pay for stuff every once in a while* or he would be shouting at you that your disgusting meal had arrived.

-Neither of these things happened so something was up.

-Not bothering to get up because you didn’t give two fucks, you waited for whoever stepped inside the apartment to show themselves.

-You are a villain hun you ain’t about to stress over some crusty ass dude trespassing into your house because you could obliterate his ass from the face of the earth in negative five seconds.

-Whispers and a frantic “But what if he comes back?” was all you heard before the ground breaking phrase left their mouth.

- “Who cares? She’s a woman, how strong can she be anyways?”

-You were livid.

-It might have been a mix of your hormones along with the fact that that was hella sexist but you were ready to beat some crusty ass.

-Laying down on the couch and pretending to be asleep you waited for them.

-And soon enough you felt the three figures standing over you.

- “See easy as hell.”

- “And hot as hell, please don’t forget that.”

-All three of them stared down at you like that pikachu meme for a solid minute before scrambling to activate their quirks.

- “We don’t wanna hurt a pretty girl like you so please don’t cause a fuss.”

- “Oh baby you think you can hurt me? Please have you seen who I’m dating?”

-Slowly standing up you flicked your wrist and one of them dropped to the floor.

-You made your way to the kitchen pouring yourself a glass of water right when one of them ran into you, pinning you to the counter.

- “Watch it there bud I’m carrying precious carg-”

- “Shut up you fucking slut! You’ll come with us whether you like it or not.”

- “The only person who can boss me around is not currently in this room so I suggest you let go.”

- “Yeah you should probably let her go.”

-At the sound of his deep voice you knew that they were dead men.

-The one basically on top of you stared at Dabi in horror as you pushed him off of you.

-Making your way to your boyfriend you gave him a small peck while he rested a hand over you stomach as a silent ‘are you okay?’.

-Shrugging you took the bag from his hands and went into your bedroom, not caring to see what he was about to do to them.

-You were hungry anyways.

- “Now which one of you wants to be roasted first?”

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei @dnarez @bemorefiction @ezoyscorner

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elriell · 4 years ago

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A little compilation of the amazing parallels, between former books and ACOSF, these are just a handful of the amazing throwback mentions Sarah gave us of Elriel.

A massive reason why I think Elain and Azriel will be telling their story next is that SJM is bringing back a lot of their important moments, to remind you of how far they have come and how much further they will go!

Azriel mastered himself enough to say, “Thank you.” I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald. “This will be invaluable.”

She hadn't bought her mate a present. But she'd gotten Azriel one last year—a headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the House of Wind. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he'd done every night he'd slept there. Or attempted to sleep there.

Az ran a hand through his dark hair. “Are we …” Unusual for him to stumble with words. “Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?” “No,” I said, and meant it. Az seemed to loose a sigh of relief. Seemed to, since all but a breath of air passed from his lips.

He offered her a smile back. "I wasn't sure if I should give you your present." [...] The golden necklace seemed ordinary—its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny enough that it could be dismissed as an everyday charm. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of the colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty. "It's beautiful," she whispered, lifting it from the box.

A low snarl slipped out of him— “Relax,” Rhys said. “Azriel isn’t the ravishing type.” Lucien cut him a glare.

Azriel offered her a small smile that Elain quickly looked away from. Cassian tucked away his puzzlement. Lucien was certainly not here to snarl at any male who looked at her for too long.

“I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

Azriel stiffened. “I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all.” Az hadn’t so much as hesitated before going into the heart of Hybern’s war-camp.”

“What if”—I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden—“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?”

"What if the Cauldron was wrong?”

“And I think Elain—Elain would like it, too. Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.” I smiled at the thought—at how handsome they would be together. If the warrior ever stopped quietly loving Mor. I doubted it. Azriel would likely love Mor until he was a whisper of darkness between the stars.

He was still happy to be Mor’s buffer with Azriel, but there’d been a change lately. In both of them. Mor no longer sat beside Cassian, draped herself over him, and Azriel … those longing glances toward her had become few and far between. As if he’d given up. After five hundred years, he’d somehow given up. Cassian couldn’t think why.

“Azriel won. His one-hundred-ninety-ninth victory, apparently.”

Your eyes are sad, Shadowsinger. He offered her a grim smile. "I lost the snowball fight today."

Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. Whether he cared about such things, I had no idea, but I sent him a silent prayer of thanks for his kindness before Rhys and I slipped upstairs.”

The river house had finally fallen quiet after the raucous Winter Solstice party, the faelights dimming to cast little pools of gold amid the deep shadow of the longest night of the year. Amren, Mor, and Varian had finally gone to bed, but Azriel found himself lingering downstairs. [...]

Soft steps padded from under the stair archway, and there she was. The faelights gilded Elain's unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn. She halted, her breath catching in her throat.

“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?”

“The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another." He had never before dared speak the words aloud.

“Mor whirled on Azriel. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Azriel held her gaze unflinchingly. Didn’t so much as rustle his wings. “Because you would have tried to stop it. And we can’t afford to lose Keir’s alliance—and face the threat of Eris.”

Lucien, as Beron's son, has the right to demand it of you.""I'll defeat him with little effort." Pure arrogance laced every word, but it was true. "I know." Rhys's eyes flickered. "And your doing so will rip apart any fragile peace and alliances we have, not only with the Autumn Court, but also with the Sprint Court and Jurian and Vassa."

Silence again. Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous.”

“Nesta’s and led her toward the family room, where Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he’d heard Elain’s sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it.”

“You sure about that?” I asked quietly. Azriel’s Siphons guttered, the stones turning as dark and foreboding as the deepest sea.

Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.

Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.”

Two small, bean-shaped fabric blobs lay within. Elain murmured, "You put them in your ears, and they block any sound. With Nesta and Cassian living there with you . . .”

The lurking shadows vanished entirely as Azriel’s head dipped a bit—his night-dark hair sliding over his handsome face as if to shield him from that mercilessly beautiful grin. Mor gave no indication that she noticed and curved her fingers toward me.

Elain sucked in a soft breath that whispered over his skin. His shadows skittered back at the sound. They'd always been prone to vanish when she was around.

“Why?” Not a flicker of emotion. “He is Elain’s mate.” I waited. “It would be an invasion of her privacy to track him.”

He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much.

[...] Azriel scowled. “I think Lucien will never be good enough for her, and she has no interest in him, anyway.”

Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.” Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks.

She looked up at him, her face so trusting and hopeful and open that he knew she had no idea that he had done unspeakable things that sullied his hands far beyond their scars. Such terrible things that it was a sacrilege for his fingers to touch her skin, tainting her with his presence.

There are so many more feel free to add them! ♡

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #acosf #acosf spoilers #acotar #elain x azriel #azriel x elain #acomaf #acowar #myelriel #myacotar #anti elucien #tobesafe

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donald4spiderman · 3 years ago

Text

Sweating, And A Lesson On Self-Worth

masterlist

Summary: Spencer finds himself falling for his NAT (new agent training) defensive tactics coach.

Pairing: SR x Fem!Reader *described as petite to give the illusion of assumed vulnerability when IRL she’s a badass— no other specific physical details are mentioned*

Category: Fluff

TW: Mentions of body image, general CM talk, mentions of fighting/grappling/wrestling, small age gap (reader is 28 & reid is 22)

concept inspired by @sierraraeck’s fic “Bad Liar” about Morgan training Spencer. I love wrestling so I wanted to do one about a badass female combat coach/agent.

REBLOG!

When Spencer and the rest of the trainees are ushered into the fitness center on their second day at the academy, he almost shits himself. He’s well aware of the physical demands being in the FBI requires, and he’s been dreading the PFT (Physical Fitness Test) since he applied.

There are hundreds of men and women huddled in the middle of the room, anticipating the orientation, and Spencer feels his palms sweat before he’s even started working out. The majority of the trainees are football players, wrestling’s, and weight lifters— he can tell by their muscular build and general atmosphere of strength and confidence.

SSA Jesse Fallon introduces their defensive tactics coach for the next twenty weeks— a petite but athletic woman. She’s dressed in a gray t-shirt and flexible khaki pants— Spencer would be lying if he said she didn’t look gorgeous, even in the bland attire.

“I’m SSA and defensive tactics coach (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” She introduces herself, giving a warm smile to the crowd. “I’ve been an SSA for five years and the head coach of this portion of the academy for two. This is my third official wave of trainees— and believe me— I won’t be going easy on any of you.”

Light laughter disperses through the crowd, and Spencer wears an uneasy look on his face.

“Today, I’ve prepped stations for each of you to cycle through for the next three hours. Agent Rivera is monitoring the weapon defense; Agent Glover is in charge of the takedowns; And I’ll be handling hand-to-hand combat and grappling. You’ll spend an hour at each station, run a mile at the end, and then you’re done for the day. Sound good?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Choruses through the crowd.

SSA (Y/N) clasps her hands together, “Alright, you know your groups. Split up!”

Spencer’s assigned to the takedown station first. Agent Glover’s criticisms are primarily nonconstructive, and Spencer struggles with apprehending and cuffing his more robust and much more muscular partner on the floor. He’s never trained this hard for anything in his life, physically, speaking. He’s half-dead within the first hour, and he dreads having to do this two more times.

His next stop is with Agent Rivera, who’s much kinder to Spencer than his prior. Reid is better at disarming his opponent, but his long limbs flail wildly due to his incoordination— he’s trying his best, but he sees the way everyone else giggles at him. It’s a blow to the chest that leaves him defeated more than any gunshot could.

The last hour is spent working at SSA (Y/N) (Y/L/N)’s station. She commands the attention of the entire group so naturally, despite being considered a rookie, she has an intimidating amount of knowledge.

“How many of you are wrestlers or judokas?” About sixty percent of the group raises their hand, and Spencer scans around for who might have the strength to kill him with one blow.

“Good,” She smiles. “This will come naturally to you, then. Now, a head-and-arm throw most likely won’t work in the field— so, sorry, judokas. However, double legs, body locks, and blast-doubles are constantly used to take down an unsub with minimal injury to the agent. Even someone as short as me can use leverage to grapple and control a much taller person.” (Y/N) scans the crowd of trainees for a moment before pointing directly at Spencer.

“You, come here.” She commands, and Spencer waddles nervously up next to her on the mat. “This is...”

He’s confused for a moment before realizing she’s asking for his name. “S-Spencer Reid.”

“Hi, Spencer.” She smiles. “How tall are you?”

“Six foot two.”

“Spencer has the advantage of almost a whole foot of height against me. But, I can use his higher center of gravity to tip him over more easily. We do this a lot in wrestling— being low to the ground and agile is important.”

(Y/N) firmly plants her hands on Spencer’s shoulder, moving him so that he’s turned to the side. “This move is called a modified blast double— it prioritizes attacking the ankles and knees rather than the knees and abdomen.”

She leans in closer to Spencer, “Don’t post your wrist out when you fall.” She whispers in his ear, sending chills down his spine. “Keep your neck tucked too.” Her breath is warm and minty, and Spencer almost forgets that he has 30 other people watching him.

“I’m going to simulate an active attack with Spencer. Doing this move in a wrestling match is much more controlled than against a rogue criminal playing by their own rules. They might have a melee or close-range weapon like a knife or hammer on them, so it’s important to make this move when the best opportunity strikes.”

“Spencer’s going to run at me and attempt to land a punch to my face.” She gives him a nod, and he chambers over to her.

Swiftly crouching lower to the ground, she launches herself towards him, gripping the back of his ankles and pushing her shoulder into his knees, and suddenly he’s flying back onto the mat. She follows through, straddling Spencer’s hips and covering his movements with an arm under his neck.

He’s out of breath as he watches the beautiful SSA leaning above him. His head is slightly sore from the impact, but overall he feels... invigorated.

“You never let your opponent fall onto the ground without covering them. Straddling your opponent allows you to keep them down while having full use of your fists.” She swings her leg off of Spencer, standing up. She reaches a hand out and quickly yanks him up.

“Find someone and drill that move. I’m coming around to help all of you.”

She gives Spencer a firm pat on his back, to which he blushes furiously, pulling his lower lip in between his teeth.

Spencer spent the rest of the hour getting slammed onto the mat over and over by various men and women. His entire shirt is soaked, and his breathing is so labored he thinks he’s going to faint. SSA (Y/N) (Y/L/N) might have appeared at ease earlier in the day, but she wasn’t kidding when she promised she would work them to no end. Everyone was at the brink of death when they approached the last lap of their mile— Spencer at risk of passing out more than others.

The relief he feels after completing his tenth lap around the gym is euphoric. Trainees collapse onto the ground with exhaustion all around him.

“Great job today.” SSA (Y/N) compliments happily. “I appreciate all the effort you guys showed today. It better still be here in four months.” And with that, she excuses them, along with the agents monitoring each station.

Spencer’s one of the last agents to trickle out of the gym. His legs feel like jello when he walks, and his lungs burn.

He almost makes it past the threshold of the door before his name is called.

“Dr. Reid.” She beckons him over with a finger. “May I talk to you for a moment.”

Spencer nervously shuffles over. “Yes, SSA (Y/L/N)?”

“I applaud your effort at training today. I can tell you were working hard.” He blushes. “But I’ve been informed that the board is willing to wave all physical training requirements for your acceptance into the FBI.”

“Yeah... I-I uh figured they’d want me for my IQ only.” He jokes nervously, shrugging his shoulders. He knows it’s disrespectful not to look her in the eye, but she intimidates him too much.

She laughs, and it’s a sweet, joyful sound that Spencer can’t get enough of. She’s powerful and radiant— stealing attention from everyone else. “You’re charming, and your reputation precedes you.”

Charming? Since when has little Spencer Reid ever been charming? He smiles awkwardly, looking off to the side to hide his blush.

“You know, the forensics department wants their hands on the trainee with the chemistry doctorate, and the surveillance department wants the kid with eidetic memory, and word has it that you speak more than four languages, so everyone wants their fair share.”

“W-why are you telling me this?” Spencer asks, voice shy and barely above a whisper.

“Because,” she places a tender hand on his shoulder, “You need to carry yourself with more confidence, Spencer. I saw you— surrounded by all those athletes— it made you feel out of place. I get it.”

“How d-do you get it?”

“I was 23 years old when I became an SSA, surrounded by people two decades older than me. I felt like the office secretary— constantly getting pushed around by people I was afraid to upset. But the thing is, Spencer, you need to demand respect from other people. I’m not saying you need to be arrogant or be a bully, but you are one of— if not the most promising agent trainee— and you need to realize your self-worth.”

“I’m smart, I-I know that. But I’m not strong or athletic by any means.” He sighs, gripping the duffle bag slung across his shoulder tightly.

“That’s alright. You’re not going to be Kyle Dake overnight. But you can’t beat yourself up about it.” (Y/N) chuckles lightly.

Spencer thinks for a moment, “T-thank you... for uh saying all those nice things about me.”

“They're true.” She nods.

“I think I’ll continue with the defensive tactics training. I could um use it.” Its partially true, but he’s most inclined to stick around because of the kind and beautiful SSA that’ll be training him.

“Yay! That’s great, Spencer.” She cheers, wrapping him in a hug that’s a little too friendly to be professional. He accepts despite being drenched in sweat.

Her arms are wrapped tightly around Spencer, and she pats him on the back twice before pulling away like a proud mentor would. He can’t decide if (Y/N) would be a better girlfriend or a better teacher. If she would, he’d prefer for her to be both. He’d give her all he had to offer if she’d allow him.

He doesn’t recognize the smile that plays on her lips, and it’s a foreign feeling for the aggressive and focused SSA. She hasn’t felt something like this in a while, especially not for a nerdy trainee named Dr. Spencer Reid.

“Hit the showers.” She teases. “You stink.”

Spencer nods furiously, “Y-yeah, of course. Thank you, again, SSA—“

“Just call me (Y/N).”

“T-thank you, (Y/N).” He smiles, scurrying out of the gym and into the hallway as giddy as ever.

(Y/N) knows she can’t pursue this— at least, not right now. She’ll give it a few years to let him settle in the FBI (his acceptance is inevitable) if she can be patient for that long. All she knows is that eventually, she wants the awkwardly adorable boy to be hers— and she wants to be his.

i’m so proud of this fic but sry i got carried away talking about wrestling i love it sm

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #sub!spencer #criminal minds fanfiction #dr reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid masterlist #baby!spencer #bau

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