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queers-gambit · 2 months

Text

Let the Bodies Hit the Floor

prompt: what happens when Tangerine's little lady is targeted in their home?

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 9.1k+

note: this got away from me. like wtf is this plot, Cherry?

warnings: author still runs with Tangerine's name being Aaron and Lemon's being Brian. inspired by GIF, established relationship, Russian Mafia vibes, physical violence / assault, blood, character injury, small angst, mostly hurt and comfort, Tan and Lem standing on business.

The skirt of the designer dress fanned around your thighs when you turned swiftly from the stovetop to a separate counter in order to collect the chopped vegetables. Light music filled the space between the sizzling of different dishes cooking, bare feet sticking to the linoleum floor of the kitchen.

"Right," your sweetheart, Aaron, announced as he jogged down the glass stairs while fixing his cuff link, entering the shared space, "know I hate t'do this, love, but I promise we won't be long."

You smirked, "Uh-huh, and where have I heard that before? Oh! That's right, when you - "

"Oi, oi, oi, you know I ain't mean to disappear in fuckin' Kyoto for 6 weeks, love," he repeated in exasperation, "please, stop holdin' that against me."

"I'm not," you sang in a singsong voice, dropping the vegetables to the stir fry you were preparing, "but you know, you say you won't be long, and then you disappear for random amounts of time."

"You know why," he sighed, buttoning his suit jacket as he closed the distance between you, "and you know it ain't my choice."

"Yeah, yeah, job first, girlfriend second."

"Not even close t'what my priorities are," he smirked, snatching your hand to twirl you around and tug you closer to face him. You grinned up at him, hands landing on his chest; letting his arms lock around you to keep you pressed against his impeccably sculpted body. "You look so beautiful tonight," he whispered, eyes flickering over you, "just love you in this dress. Could ravish you right here, right now."

"Yeah?" You cooed, "Recognize it?"

"Hm, feels rather expensive," he pet around your hips and waist, cheekily moving them around to grip both arse cheeks; causing you to gasp lightly, "thinkin' I must've gotten it for yah. Huh?"

"From Paris last month," you chuckled.

"Ah, yeah, I remember. Lemon was right hacked off we spent so much time shoppin', but no way was I gonna come home without something for yah." He sniffled and patted one hand in a gentle smack on your bottom, continuing, "Now, listen, sweetheart, I know tonight's real important to yah, so, I promise, Lemon and I will be back before the main course, yeah?"

You tisked, "Don't fucking call him that, you know I hate it."

"Apologies, lovely girl. Listen, I won't have my phone on, so, you need me, call Brian - "

"'If I need you'? See, now it's sounding like you're gonna disappear again, Aaron," you complained. "What the hell's this job anyway?"

"Nah, don't worry 'bout nothin'," he promised, "'cause we'll be back in time for your li'l dinner party."

"You know tonight's important for us - both of us!"

His eyes rolled, "Yes, yes, t'finally get your father's approval, right?"

"More like my whole family," you reminded with a roll of your eyes. "Goddamnit, I knew you weren't gonna take this seriously - "

"No, hey," he soothed, squeezing his hands to gently jostle you into silence, "tonight's very important to me, darlin'. I swear it, yeah? We'll be back in time, promise you."

"Good, you better."

"But in case, call Brian - "

"Aaron!"

He grinned, watching your own lips spread, "Jesus Christ, can't take a joke no more, can yah?"

"Maybe on less important days."

"Duly noted." The apartment's buzzer sounded, your boyfriend sighing, "Right, then. That'd be Lem - aht, ahem, Brian." He frowned, "Feel bad skippin' out on yah like this, but duty calls, baby."

"Mhm," you hummed, lifting on your toes to peck his lips. "Just be careful, please."

"I always am."

"You literally crashed a Bullet Train into an entire village - "

"Told yah, that was the Ladybug twat!"

"You also got shot! A centimeter to the side and you'd have bled out your fucking jugular."

"Again, the Ladybug twat."

"Potato, po-ta-toe."

Aaron chuckled, kissing you again, his mustache tickling your skin; groaning in annoyance when the buzzer sounded again - but for a prolonged time. "All right," he pulled back only to peck your lips again, "I'm off but I'll be back real soon. Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Good without me?"

"I have to be," you teased, petting the lapels of his suit jacket and readjusting his tie. "Go, before you give your brother a fucking aneurism."

"Right," he chirped, pecking your forehead with a loud smooch. Swiftly, Aaron reached over to pluck a carrot from the wok, hissing from the heat, "oh, hot, hot, hot!" You swatted his bottom as he stepped away, eating the veggie, knowing you hated when he sampled your cooking while in the midst of actually cooking. "Mh! Tastes divine, sweetheart, maybe a bit more garlic. Love you!" He called over his shoulder, dropping a quick wink.

"Love you," you repeated, smiling; feeling lucky in love. You watched him go; his curls slicked back, classic navy blue suit on to make the crisp white button-up stand out, his shiny dress shoes winking at you. With a sigh, you focused again on prepping an admirable meal for the evening, planning on hosting both your divorced parents, their partners, and three older siblings.

Obviously, as the youngest kid, any and everyone you dated fell under heavy scrutiny.

The plan was to shmooze them into accepting Aaron as your lover, something your father and eldest brother were specifically vehemently against. But you weren't a little girl anymore, they couldn't dictate who you loved, but you could do your part to make your contract killer boyfriend more appealing to your kin. Easier said than done, but tonight was about at least trying.

So, you cooked a series of dishes to present on the grand dining table your boyfriend had furnished your apartment with, yet never utilized. Humming to the music, you hopped around the cooking space, and about an hour later, the apartment's buzzer was sounding in an obnoxious echo.

Dusting your hands off, you rushed to the comms system and pressed the big green button that unlocked the door building's front door. You left the door to your flat unlocked for easier access, rushing back to the kitchen to finish plating dinner. Not a minute later, the door opened and in walked your family; bottle of wine in your father's hand and a bouquet of flowers in your mother's.

Your father, Edward, had his newest wife on his arm; in the tallest heels you ever saw and a dress made of sequins, being far too short for this kind of event.

You mother, Linda, powered walked ahead of everyone with her boytoy of the month kept a close distance to the matriarch. He was probably just a few years older than you - but you were dating a contract killer agent, there was no room for judgement.

Your eldest brother, Robert, or better known as Bobby, entered with an aurora of arrogance; instantly looking around and judging your home unfairly. You sister, Mabel, just looked stony and stoic; completely bored of that night already. Lastly, your brother older by just a single year, Jonathan, or John, or John Boy, followed behind your siblings, wearing a thick gold chain against a classless wife beater.

"Oh, I'm so glad you made it!" You squealed, opening your arms and practically skipping close to greet your parents and their partners. "About time, don't you think?" You smiled at your father, hugging him first and kissing his cheek.

"Well... Guess better late than never," he begrudgingly agreed. "You remember my wife, Crystal?"

"Of course," you tried to politely smile and offered the fake-blonde a greeting kiss to her cheek, "lovely to see you again."

"Thanks for the invite," her tired voice drawled; indicating she'd rather be literally anywhere else.

"Mum," you moved along, hugging and kissing her cheek, too. "You're look fit."

"Thank you," she sighed.

Looking to her boyfriend, you greeted, "Thanks for coming, Keith - "

"It's Toby."

You blinked, "Huh?"

"Name's Toby," he explained.

"Right, right, Toby, my fault," you apologized, ignoring the look he sent your mother as you greeted Bobby, Mabel, and John Boy.

After, your father stiffly asked, "So? Where is he? This boyfriend you want us all t'like so much, huh? Not even out here to greet us?"

"Running an errand, but he and his brother will be back for dinner."

Bobby scoffed, "So, we do all this for him and he's not even home? Wow... Real stand-up guy, innit he?"

"You're also here to see me, aren't you?"

"We see enough of you, we're here for your dumbass boyfriend you're so enamored with that you missed Christmas last year."

"Bobby," you warned, taking your mother's flowers and heading back into the open-concept kitchen to locate a vase and fill it with water. "You're gonna play nice tonight or I'm gonna be really pissed," you warned your family, "and I'll cancel the New Years trip."

"Woah, hang on," your sister, Mabel, interjected, "let's not be hasty, the night's only just beginning - no need for threats."

"I know," you smirked at her, "it's called incentive."

"Truly your father's daughter," you mother scoffed and rolled her eyes. Edward just mocked her and handed over the wine bottle; making your mother snip, "No drinks to offer us? Not a very diligent hostess, are you, darling?"

Her sickly sweet tone gave you a cavity, but this was simply how your mother behaved when around her ex-husband - all passive aggressive and holier than thou.

You pointed, "There's an entire cart behind you, there. Help yourself."

"Hm," she hummed, nodding, turning to make herself a hefty bourbon with Toby right behind her.

"Um," Crystal hummed, "do you have seltzers?"

You almost laughed but managed not to, "No, no, just win and whatever liquor's on the cart."

"It's a nice place you've got, love, if not overly expensive," Linda cut off anything Crystal might've said; complimenting you stiffly, looking around as the amber liquid was poured, "bit empty, though, innit? I don't see one single family photo, not a personable damn thing."

"Oh, well, Aaron and I just like the minimalistic aesthetic," you deflected; the truth being, Aaron was constantly on the move for his job, there was no real time or reason to decorate the flat. You began transporting the large dishes on the kitchen counters to the table, your other brother, John, springing into action to help.

To say it was awkward was the simplest way to put it. After pouring herself a second drink, Linda started to trade insults with Edward; both telling the other how pathetic it is to find younger lovers. Mabel rolled her eyes but listened carefully, ever the quiet mouse who opted to observe rather than be seen. Bobby was snooping through anything he could get a hand on; attempting to know Tangerine without outright meeting him yet. John Boy didn't care this way or that, happy to just be involved and set the table for you.

"Chow's on!" You announced, leading everyone to the table and take whatever seat they liked.

"You know," Bobby started, "think it's a bit weird."

"What is?" You asked, handing Mabel the steamed sticky rice.

Bobby gestured around, "The whole thing. I mean, I'm almost tempted to believe you've made this Aaron character up. What kinda man skips out on a family meal like this?"

"A man who has a very demanding job," you snapped, the table still passing dishes around to take their fill. "I didn't ask you guys here to fucking harp on him, I asked you to just give him a chance and get to know him."

"Why should we even bother?"

"Because he's important to me!"

"You honestly think this is gonna last?" Bobby scoffed, shaking his head and passing the vegetables.

"Of course I do, I know how strong my relationship is. What the hell do you expect me to say, do, think, or feel if Aaron and I get married, and my family's feuding with the groom - "

"I beg your pardon?" Edward snapped, making the table go silent. "You're gonna marry this bloke?"

"No, Daddy, he hasn't proposed or anything, but we have been together almost 7 years" you explained. "I just used it as an example. Aaron's going to be in my life for a long time, I'd really appreciate everyone getting along."

"I think that's reasonable," Crystal smiled.

"Oh, shove it, nobody asked you," Linda sneered.

"Could you maybe not be a raging bitch for five minutes?" Edward snapped, dropping the cutlery with a loud clatter. "Don't talk to her like that - "

"The trollop doesn't get an opinion on family affairs!"

"Now that we're married," he held up his left hand, golden band visible, "she does get an opinion. It's your newest toy that shouldn't talk!"

"I didn't even say anything, mate," Toby scoffed.

"I'm not your 'mate', silly boy - "

The table erupted in a busy and loud argument, you slumping back into your chair; listening to your siblings attempt to resolve the feud. You thanked yourself for making the conscious decision to have this little dinner party at home instead of a restaurant; knowing Linda and Edward were never able to resist a good screaming match, even if in public. You sipped your wine mutely, eyes darting back and forth between either sides of the table.

However, they were silenced when there came a pounding at your front door. Three distinct, punctuated knocks of a fist, your mind instantly jumping to thinking it was the police - nobody else knocked like that. You went rigid instantly, brow furrowing, your father asking, "Expecting more company, honey?"

"No," you shook your head, already out of your seat and heading for the door - when suddenly - it was kicked in. Your scream was shrill from shock. The force of the violent entry splintered the doorframe; knob colliding with drywall, indenting it from the jarring movement. You yelped in shock, trying to back up, but there came a flood of armed men that instantly rushed you. You were only briefly aware of chairs scraping on hardwood floor as your family leapt up in shock.

Long gone was the argument, your family mutually screaming in fear.

These intruders yelled in Russian, fanning out to gather you and your family in harsh grips; shoving everyone into the living room. You were forced to sit down, at least one armed man posted for each of you, the others spreading out and searching the flat.

"What's happening? What the hell is happening!?" Mabel squeaked through her huffy breath, the men exchanging a few words before one stepped forward with his gun drawn at the ready. "Please, there's some mistake! Please, please, why are you - what is happening!? You can't do this! We only - "

"You," one of the intruders spoke with a heavy accent and a thick, pointed finger, "quiet." From his utility belt, the Russian produced several zip ties, demanding, "Hands. Hands, together! Now! You understand, eh!? Hands! Your hands! Now! Right now!"

Another henchman barked in Russian, telling you to comply or things would get messy. "Just do what they say," you whispered, pressing your wrists together and presenting them. They were secured tightly, your parents, their partners, and siblings enduring the same, and by the time the last zip was tied, the other henchmen returned.

You identified what was reported: "He's not here, no trace where he went."

"No, hmmm," mused the man obviously in charge, "well, that's all right, his girlfriend is right here." Your eyes widened as the Russian turned to look at you with a sadistic smirk. "Heard he's real protective of you, likes you a lot. Huh? Heard he once broke a man's collarbone for just looking at you - must be very important, yeah. What do you think he will do when he finds you - ruined?"

"You're not gonna do anything," you seethed between gritted teeth, "because you know he'd kill you all. Now, there's been no harm done so far, so there's time to walk away and I'll guarantee he or his brother won't come after you."

The Russian chuckled, "Oh-ho! Hear that, boys? Good old Tangerine's domesticated now. Takes orders from his bitch, and boy, she likes to bark!" Other henchmen chuckled, a few picking at the abandoned dinner. "I think it's time we send him our message, no?" The leader grinned to his men, earning a chorus of agreement.

Your eyes widened when the man lunged forward and yanked you to your feet, yellowed teeth gnashing in your face. "Whole family can watch!" Another intruder barked, curating a wave of laughter, "Call it, uh, bonding? Trauma bonding?"

"Oh, I like that," the leader of the kill squad grinned.

You gasped when the Russian balled his fist and socked you directly in the diaphragm; winding you, bending you at the waist, and giving him the vantage point to rocket his fist upwards into your nose. There was a sickly snap, you whimpering when a different Russian shoved you from behind and forced you to your knees; three different men joining the relentless and savage beating. You were kicked, punched, breaking several bones, being spat on, shoved over, and made to bleed your own blood. Though you hadn't wanted to, wanting to appear strong and unfazed, you cried out when the pain became too much; heaving for breath and praying the next kick to the head was enough to knock you unconscious.

But you weren't so lucky and wishful thinking was simply that: wishful, not applied or actual. Your family begged and pleaded for mercy, flinching when you spat blood on numerous occasions; shoes squeaking when they stepped in the globs. Everyone helpless and powerless in the current predicament, no hero to swoop in and save the day; your family knowing they were yelling into thin air and their words fell upon deaf ears. They could only watch and listen as you took the brunt end of three angry Russian's brute strength.

The leader had lit up a cigarette, watching his men physically assault you with an air of entertainment and aloofness. This went on for several long, agonizing minutes; you eventually going limp. "Hm," he waved his hand through the smoke, inhaling nicotine, "enough, boys, that's enough. She gets it, she gets we mean business." His men complied and backed away from you, letting the leader kneel at your head on blood-smeared hardwood floor. "You tell Tangerine and Lemon who did this, huh? Yeah? You tell them for me."

You spat blood in the Russian's face, smirking in satisfaction when it hung off his nose in a humiliating display of your stubbornness.

"Ah, I see," he wiped the blood clear, regarding it on his hand before bare-knuckle punching your head back into the ground. You were instantly dazed, groaning, the man continuing, "Now that you got that out of your system, you will remember my name. Huh? Ivan, yes? You remember that? Ivan. Fucking Ivan Kostka, you tell Tangerine and Lemon Ivan Kostka did this."

"The fuck does it matter who you are!?" You whimpered, eyes burning and being kept screwed tight. "You're a deadman walking, nobody cares about your fucking name except whoever inscribes your tombstone."

"Because your fruity boyfriend and his twin took something very valuable from me," the Russian leered, "and I have come to collect it back into my possession. You tell them, Ivan did this to you. I want them to know they are not untouchable - not to me. Not to my men. Tangerine can try to protecting you all he wants, but there will always be a time and place to act." Then, he laughed, "Know how easy it was for us to get here? Huh? Bit too easy, I admit. See, we picked up Tangerine's trail and followed him here. All we had to do was be patient for our opportunity."

"Who the fuck is Tangerine?" John was heard whispering to the others, a series of shrugs replying. The Russian gave a new command and several men divided to use their weapons to wreck the flat you called home; tearing up pillows, smashing spider-web cracks to the windows, tossing plates and mugs, overturning a bookcase, throwing expensive crystal glasses to watch the shards scatter.

Ivan continued to explain, "Your stupid fucking family talk so loud, eh, it is miracle they are not in witness protection, huh? We see them at your door, and when you opened for them, oh, it was easy to, ehhh, just follow them inside. Yeah? And now, here we are," he smirked. "I am sorry about this, though. You've such a pretty face, I almost don't want t'taint it," he pet a finger down your bloodied cheek.

"Go to hell!" You hissed.

"Oh, I will be when the Reaper comes for me. Remember, tell Tangerine it was Ivan... Ivan Kostka did this," he gestured to your tattered form, "and that I want my Faberge Egg and little sister back or this will get a lot worse for everyone involved."

You coughed as the man stood, whistling sharply and commanding his men to follow. The moment they were gone, as your family erupted in panicked screams, Mabel raced for the kitchen and snatched up a knife from the counter. Returning, your sister carefully uncut everyone's ties, your mother gasping and dropping to her knees when freed.

"What have you gotten us into, you stupid girl!?" She cried, massaging her constricted wrists.

You manage to mumble before passing out, "Call Brian."

Tangerine and Lemon had been on their own stakeout, tracking a gang of Russians accused of money laundering. He had forgotten to put his phone on the charger the night before, it dying and being left behind at his flat; so when there came a vibration, he knew it was Lemon's phone.

He hate the sound of the vibrations in the cupholder. "Oi, gonna fuckin' answer that?" Tangerine snapped, staring out the windshield.

"Uh, bruv?" Lemon turned the phone for Tan to see, guessing, "It's for you, I'm sure." The contact name displayed your home number.

Tangerine sighed and accepted the call with it on speaker, "Yeah, hello? Love? That you?"

"A-Aaron?"

"Linda?" Tan questioned in curiosity, hearing your mother's soft sob. "What's goin' on? What's wrong? Why're you calling? Where's Y/N?"

"Th-There's been an accident."

"What kind of accident?"

"The kind that involve angry Russians looking for some egg and someone's little sister? I don't know - "

"Oh, fuck me! Don't move, we're on our way," he rushed, hanging up. "Oi, fuck this, mate, get us back home," he barked at his brother, "we gotta get back now. Like right fucking now!"

"We can't just - "

"What? Leave our post?" Tan snapped. "Brian, you know where we are right now?"

He glanced outside, "Uh... Little Italy?"

"Fuckin' wanker," Aaron snapped. "No, this shipping yard is owned by the Kostka's - Russian crime family. You heard Linda, means the tip tonight was a set up t'get us away from the flat. They probably moved while we were absent. Now, c'mon, fucking hustle!"

Lemon connected the dots and started the engine, peeling away at a dangerous speed to navigate the city back to the high-rise apartment you and Tan shared. He couldn't explain why, but Tangerine could feel his heart in his throat; a sick feeling taking over at the thought of the Russians setting this entire thing up.

Why send he and Lemon to stakeout the shipping yard? Why remove them from the equation?

Upon arriving at the shattered front door, both men in pressed clothes came to a jarring halt, taking in the sight. The flat was a wreck, literal feathers from pillows still floating in the air, their dress shoes cracking over shattered glass.

Tan caught sight of your hunched body sitting on the couch. "Right, the fuck is this, then?" He demanded, striding up to where your family had surrounded you. "The hell happened? Swear t'God, I'll put a bullet... In... Whoever..." He trailed, pausing when he saw your state. Tangerine slowly squatted in front of you, gently trying to coax your chin up, "Lemme see, darlin', c'mon, c'mon, lemme see, c'mere."

When you met his baby blues, you could only watch as tears filled them - knowing they'd never fall. "I'm sorry," you whispered, throat soar from the beating; making you sound a lot hoarser than ever before.

"For what? You did nothing, love, nothing - couldn't have deserved this, now could yah?" He rushed to comfort, caressing your jaw in both hands to look you over. There was a long gash in your hairline that dripped racing drops of blood down your face. "This is my fault, I know it is, God fucking damn it. Who the fuck did this? Hey? You remember, darling? Remember anythin' 'bout these men?" But you were silent from shock. So, he addressed the room by barking, "Does anyone? What the hell happened here, tonight!?"

Your father cleared his throat before knocking back the last swig of his whiskey. "These Russian fuckers," Ed answered. "Big lot of 'em, too, all with scary lookin' tattoos and fucking guns. Some were automatic." He eyed your boyfriend, "Associates of yours?"

"Fucking hell," Tangerine looked up at his brother, "think they want the Faberge back?"

Lemon frowned, "Possibly, but that's only if - "

"Ivan," you whispered suddenly, Tangerine and Lemon both looking back at you in mild shock. "He said his name was Ivan and he wanted you two t'know there was no hiding from him. He wants back whatever it is you two took."

"Yeah, they want the fucking Egg," Tangerine's jaw flexed as he glared at the floor, sighing deeply, and then looking back at you. "Hey," he whispered, "I'm just glad you're alive and well-enough. Yeah? You're my priority, sweetheart, nothing else matters."

You sniffled, "I'm okay."

"Like hell you are," he shook his head, gently prodding around your bruised face and sighing, "look at yah. You're definitely not okay, sweetheart. Right, then, listen, we'll go to a safe house for the time being - "

"A what?" John asked incredulously.

"A safe house," Lemon repeated, "you know? Somewhere not on record to let us hide discreetly?"

"I know what it is - but why go?"

"Can't stay here, mate, it's compromised," Tan answered with a hardened tone. "Now, you gonna fuckin' stand there, questioning me, or go be useful and get ready to leave?"

"Tan," his brother offered softly, "lay off, they just watched our girl get the shit kicked outta her."

Tan nodded and looked back at you, "Yeah, all right, sorry, love, just a bit on edge. But I'm gonna fix this - "

Robert (or Bobby, he's also known as), scoffed a sarcastic laugh, arms crossed, approaching you and Tangerine. "You takin' the piss? Your fuckin' job is leadin' men t'my sister, breakin' in her own home, givin' her a beatin' meant for you, yah fuckin' twat! Yet that's all you got to say to us? That you're on edge?"

"What'chu want, then, bruv?" Tan snapped, standing to face Bobby. "Huh? Call it an occupational hazard, but just 'cause you wanna bring it up, know that we ain't never had no situation like this before. All right? Excuse us for tryna piece it best together."

"My fuckin' sister's still bleedin', and you're, what? Makin' it up as you go?" Bobby snarled. "You owe us a plan! Somethin'! Fuckin' anythin'! How the fuck are you gonna rectify this situation?"

Tan's mouth opened, ready to retort.

"All right, all right, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, no, no, quit it, cut it out, yah fucking ninnies!" Lemon stepped between them and forced distance between the two men. "That shit ain't gonna help us right now. We all need to think clearly, so let's try not to wind one another up. Yeah? Fair?"

"Fuck you," Bobby spat, "fuck the both of yahs, you're both responsible! Puttin' my sister in harms way! Fuckin' look at her!" He snarled and pointed, "Shakin' like a fuckin' leaf!"

"Yeah, all right, you what, mate?" Tan sneered.

"I'm not your mate."

"I'll just fuckin' handle this on my own - "

"Like hell you are," His brother interrupted. "They fucked with our family, ain't nowhere for them to hide."

Tangerine nodded, then asked, "How many men were here would you say? Ballpark number." It was quiet. "Someone better answer me!"

Linda sneered, "Some 12 or 15 men, most of whom carried assault rifles. Anything you wanna tell us, Aaron? Huh? Why were these men searching for you? What'd you do that was so bad, they hurt my little girl?"

Your boyfriend nodded and looked to his brother, stiffly nodding and stoically demanding, "Let's get fuckin' Biblical, then, yeah?"

Brian clicked his tongue and winked at his brother in agreement, Crystal handing you a bag of frozen peas to hold against your head.

"You're sure it's safe?" You whispered, holding onto your boyfriend like a crutch as you exited the elevator.

"They didn't want our protection, love, 'cause the Russians are after us," Tan answered. "Easy does it," he whispered, opening the door to the safe 'house' he and Lemon kept in downtown London - not terribly far from your actual flat. "At's a good girl, slowly - slowly," he kept one arm around you, the other holding the door for Lemon, who carried several duffels. "Right, see? Nice, ain't it?"

You nodded, still relatively drugged from the hospital you just left. After begging them to come with you, your family outright refused, saying Tangerine and Lemon were bad news and they wanted no part in whatever bullshit was happening; even though it meant leaving you alone. So, Lemon packed up the flat while Tan took you to the hospital, meeting again at the skyscraper that doubled as a fortress.

"Here we are," he sighed, lowering you to the couch; left wrist in a cast, a brace on your ankle, concussion, bandages and gauze stuck to random open wounds that required stitches. "Right," he knelt in front of you, "you saw the lobby, yeah? Ain't nobody gettin' in here without clearance, you're safe. Yeah?" He pushed a strand of hair from your face, hating how it was still crisp from dried blood.

"Okay," you whispered with a nod.

Aaron sighed, "I'm so sorry, love."

"Not your fault."

"But it is," he frowned, "'s all my fuckin' fault."

"Did you really take a Faberge Egg?"

"It's what our employer wanted, so... Yeah. Apparently, it was a right dime piece, thought lost in one of the wars. Very exclusive - "

"Most expensive Egg made," Brian added, dropping a couple of the duffels. "And it's not in our possession anymore, love."

"Fuck would we do with Faberge?" Aaron rolled his eyes.

"Hock it," his brother answered, bringing grocery bags into the kitchen and setting them on the counters.

"And the sister?" You asked, eye once being nearly swollen shut now just red and irritated; looking at him with profound sadness. "What happened to Ivan's sister?"

Aaron sighed, wiping a hand down his face, "She was placed in witness protection, she's an informant f'MI6 and Interpol. They want her 'cause she's been spillin' secrets, gettin' business all topsy-turvy."

"They wanna kill her?"

"Seems so," he nodded, smoothing his hands over both your thighs, "but don't you worry 'bout nothin', yeah? We'll handle this."

"How?"

"We've got a couple calls to make," he alluded, standing to his full height but bending at the waist to kiss your forehead gently. "Try to rest, love, we'll be here a bit."

You nodded and watched him stride out of the living room, grabbing one of the duffel bags Lemon had dropped and brought it to the glass dining room table. He ripped it open as you sunk into the plush fabric of the pillows, but perked up when Brian came into sight. "Here, darling," he set a mug of tea to the granite coffee table in front of you, "just a bit of something for your nerves, yeah? You all right? Need anything? A pain pill, maybe? You look uneasy."

"I'm all right," you promised, trying to smile, but it came out as a grimace.

"Mhm," he sent you a look, grabbing the pharmacy bag. "Don't be a hero, just keep yourself afloat. Here," he handed you a little, round, white pill and the tea. "Bottoms up, huh?"

You half-chuckled and did what he said, settling again as he grabbed a blanket and tossed it over you. "How often are you two here?" You asked.

"Ah, usually when we're doin' recon," he answered, handing over the remote. "All the streamin' you could want," he winked, pointing at the TV.

"Oi, mate," your boyfriend called, "thinkin' we should call Kiwi?"

"To stay with her?" He asked, caressing the top of your head affectionately; grabbing another duffel and meet his brother at the table. The London Eye was visible from the window, creating a picturesque scene.

"Yeah," Tan answered, "she's good company, ain't she? Handy with a gun. Usually shoots first, asks questions later."

Brian shrugged, "Couldn't hurt. But I think we need t'call Moss... See what he and The Agency can tell us 'bout Ivan."

"On it," Aaron agreed, rapidly typing on a nondescript laptop. But he paused suddenly, looking up and asking, "You gave her a pain pill?"

"Yeah."

"She should eat with it..."

"I'm right here, you know!" You snapped. "I can hear you!"

"I know, doll, sorry," Aaron sighed, going to the kitchen and grabbing you trail mix - knowing opioids gave you the munchies. "Here, love, just wanna make sure you stay all right," he handed the bag over, dropping to the spot beside you with a heavy sigh. "Listen, uh, we're gonna have some of the lads come over t'help."

"Who?"

"Well, Kiwi's a lass, but she works with us sometimes. She's handy t'have 'round inna pinch. That all right?"

"I'm not one for much company right now," you frowned.

"Nah, don't worry, she'll entertain herself," he chuckled slightly, eyes darting around to take in your appearance. In a low whisper, he breathed, "I'm so sorry this happened."

"You've said that," you half-smiled, placing an M&M at his lips. He accepted the treat. "We knew something was bound to happen eventually, right?"

"Not like this, this ain't acceptable," he shook his head. "Lookit, Ivan's one of them nasty fuckers, traffics narcotics into the country using a series of shipping yards. He's got a whole army at his fingertips, plenty of money t'sustain an all out war if he wants."

"When was the last time you dealt with this guy?"

Lemon joined you two, sitting on the other side of the L-shaped couch. He worked on the laptop now, but sent a look to Aaron that begged him to lie. But often, Tangerine never could to you, so, he told the truth, "Last we saw him was some 6 years ago."

Your head cocked, "That's when we first started dating."

"Yeah," he smirked, stretching his arm around you to bring you in close for both your comforts. "Remember that week you couldn't get ahold of me? I told yah I was on some bloody fishing trip?"

"Mhm."

"We were in Colombia, fuckin' up part of his operation."

Your eyes widened, "Colombia? You mean, this Russian's in league with South America? The cocaine capital of the world?"

"Yeah," he sighed, "but it's taken him apparently this long to get shit straightened out - else he would've come sooner."

"Or he was waitin' until our guard was down," Brian chimed in, rapidly tapping on the laptop. "Intel says... Ivan's been in the country 'bout 3 months."

"And before that?"

"Uh... Looks like... Ah, fuckin' hell, he was in Spain, Portugal, Nicaragua, even fuckin' Trinidad."

"Sounds like he's made some friends," Tangerine frowned. You nestled a little closer, his arm contracting to squeeze you tight. "Send word t'Kiwi and Moss, ask Moss t'bring only The Jailbird."

"Who the fuck - you know what? I don't want t'know," you whispered.

"The Jailbird is a brutal fucker," Lemon chuckled, typing faster, "took out an entire fright train by himself with a single shotgun and only a couple rounds of ammo."

"Brian," Tan warned, shaking his head.

"What? 'S not like she's gonna say shit, you picked the most loyal girl in the world," he grinned, winking at you. "Right, love?"

"Mhm."

"That pain pill kicking in yet?"

"Not yet," you yawned.

"Right," your lover chuckled, handing over the mug of tea, "we've got some work t'do, you sit tight. Need somethin', anythin', just ask. Please," he frowned, "don't try t'get up."

"All right," you whispered, lifting your chin slightly with intent. He smiled and met you the rest of the way, pressing a gentle kiss to your split lips.

The lads went back to the glass table, setting up a network of tools and technology, muttering to one another as they did what they knew to gather as much information as possible.

About an hour later, there was a knock at the door that made you flinch. "It's all right," Tangerine rushed, but pulled his gun in hand, "probably Kiwi - "

"It's me, fuckers!" A female called from the other side.

Your boyfriend checked through the peephole and sighed, holstering his gun and opening the door. "Kiwi," he greeted.

"Tangerine," she rolled her eyes, strolling into the flat with her arms full of food. "I brought lunch! Know you fuckers aren't payin' attention to time and shit. Oh!" She grinned when she saw you, "Oh, my word, you're her! Wow, you're even prettier in person! You know, Aaron's told me all about you - "

"Fuck off," Tan snapped.

"Fuck you," she sent right back, "been askin' t'meet your lady for years now, now I finally get to."

"I wish it were under better circumstances," you offered softly, watching the lass with stark white hair round into the living room to set coffee cups and paper bags down.

"Oh, hi, hello, you gorgeous girl," she grinned, sitting next to you and hugging you softly. You were shocked, eyes wide, but hugged her back. "Oh, it's real nice to meet yah, heard all about'cha!"

"Really?" You asked when she pulled back, "'Cause I didn't know a thing about you until an hour ago."

"Makes sense," her eyes rolled, "them two never talk 'bout shit. Makes 'em good agents, but shit lovers. Huh?"

"I'd have to disagree," you smiled softly, defending your love.

"Yeah," she grinned, "knew I'd like you. Lemon!" She greeted in a cheer, standing swiftly to set one coffee cup out for you and take the rest over to the table.

"Hi, Key," he chuckled, offering her a hug. "Lookin' fit, aren't yah?"

"Just got back from a 6 month stint in the DR," she nodded.

"R&R or mandatory?"

"Rehab," she shrugged casually, "but not for me."

"Makes no bloody sense," Tan rolled his eyes.

"I was there, cozyin' up t'fucking Francisco Juarez."

"No fuckin' shit," Lemon laughed. "How was that?"

"The man's mental, but shit, he's got some balls of steel."

"Jesus Christ," Tan groaned. "Can we focus, please? Where's Moss? Anyone heard from him?"

"Mh," Kiwi nodded, swallowing a mouthful of coffee as you gingerly reached for your own; trying not to strain the shattered ribs you earned. "He called me on my way here, said he was on his way, just had to pick something up."

Lemon and Tangerine shared a look as Kiwi practically skipped back over to you. She happily struck up a conversation, telling you all about how she first met Aaron and Brian on some recon mission in Moscow - the three apparently all tracking Ivan. So, no wonder she was asked to assist on this little mission.

The man named Moss arrived not long after, dropping another duffel in the foyer and silently approaching Tangerine and Lemon. Kiwi waved the behavior off, whispering, "That's one of the bosses. Not a man of many words, just a man of action, yeah?"

You nodded in understanding, accepting the Tylenol she handed you and answering her 20,000 questions. You heard the three men muttering together, papers shuffling over the tabletop and the laptop dinging every time there was new information.

"Oh, holy shit," Lemon gaped at the screen, earning everyone's attention. "You lot aren't gonna believe this."

"What's wrong?" Moss asked, moving to his shoulder and peering over to look at the laptop. "Well... Ain't that interesting?"

"What?" Kiwi asked.

"Looks like Ivan's here for some wedding..." Lemon muttered, tapping on the return key repeatedly. "No shit!"

"WHAT!?" Kiwi snapped, making you flinch. She instantly apologized, "Oh, shit, sorry, sorry, sorry, love, I get a bit excited when outta the loop."

"Ivan's sister's gettin' married," Moss reported, "to the Minister of Defense."

It was quiet for a long moment, the agents stewing in shock. "Well, that can't be good," you whispered to Kiwi.

"Not entirely, just means our jobs got a helluva lot more exciting, though," she grinned, dropping a wink.

Three days. Three bloody days, you've been confined to the safe house. You were under strict orders not to leave out of fear of retaliation, so you remained for Aaron's peace of mind.

Moss, Tangerine, Lemon, and Kiwi were preoccupied focusing on their plan of attack. They figured there be an altercation at the engagement party, designing a trustworthy team to help them infiltrate and keep an eye. The day of the party, you were curled up in bed, reading to pass the time, and when you noticed Tangerine leaning in the doorway, your book snapped shut.

"How long you gonna keep me here?" You asked. "Some of us have day jobs they need to get back to."

He smirked, "I covered for yah."

"How?"

"Said you had a funeral t'go to in the States," he eased, pushing off the doorframe and approaching your side of the bed. He grunted as he sat, sighing deeply, "Listen, sweetheart..."

"Oh, that's never good."

"Just listen," he smirked. "Tonight's the engagement party, so we're gonna make our move."

"Are you sure Ivan's gonna be there? That this is what needs done?"

"We got it worked out, love," he promised. "Just need yah t'stay here with Kiwi. Keep safe, yeah?"

You stared at him for a moment, cocking your head slightly, "Been meaning to ask - why refer to each other's codenames when alone, like we are?"

"Good habit t'have," Aaron shrugged, caressing your head and then petting a finger down your cheek softly. "Hate leavin' you like this, but I'm gonna kill the fuckers that dared touch you."

"I'm not usually one for violence or revenge, but in this case, go crazy."

He nodded and stood with a smirk, stooping slightly to press his lips against yours. There was a solemn tension in the air, foreheads pressed together to breathe the same air, him whispering, "Love you, darlin'."

"Love you, too," you answered instantly. "Just make sure you come home, yeah?"

"As quick as I can," he swore.

You learned that day, you hated waiting. You despised being out of the know, having no connection to tell you what was happening on Aaron's side of things. Kiwi was a great distraction, though. She was chipper, talkative, wildly animated; sharing a joint with you, ordering take out that a security guard brought up, and making you watch all her favorite movies.

She checked her phone several times, eventually, you begging, "Any word?"

"Nah, don't worry," Kiwi smiled, "they usually don't give updates when on the job."

Unknown to you, on the other side of town, Tangerine and Lemon were changing into suits the hotel waiters would wear to serve the engagement party. Moss was in a nondescript white van, working surveillance, informing in the headset, "The Jailbird's in position."

"So are we," Lemon reported, nodding at his brother. "Ready, bruv?"

"It's gonna get messy," he nodded, cracking his neck and leading the charge into the event room with trays of champagne. He surveyed the room subtly, seeing The Jailbird working the catering table in a matching suit, and when the couple of the hour entered, it was showtime. However, before springing into action, the trio of trained and paid assassins had to wait for the first move else they'd blow their cover and alert Ivan they were onto him.

The future bride's name was once something traditionally Russian, now choosing to be Veronica, and her soon-to-be-husband, Gerald, was the very man who had established her witness protection. It was romantic, in a way, that the two fell in love; being naughty and a little forbidden, yet still tantalizing. Their families filled the room with the groom's colleagues, security lining the walls - yet being unable to do anything if the Russians decided to attack.

However, the moment Tangerine saw Ivan, he went rigid with anger. "Mate, hang on, don't do it - we have a plan for a reason," Lemon tried to warn, but sighed hotly when his brother stormed off. Into the comms system, he warned, "Heads up, lads, Tangerine's on the move. 'S bouta get real sticky, people, stay sharp."

Tangerine surged up behind Ivan, who was dressed similarly and indicating he, too, was undercover at this event. Tan felt his face redden with anger, tapping Ivan's shoulder, and when the Russian turned, he didn't hesitate to pull his fist back and launch it directly into Ivan's nose. It was the first punch thrown (literally) that spurred the other Russians into action.

People shrieked, heels clattered to flee, and security guards rushed to cover their employers; not knowing who the desired target was. Luck didn't seem on their side that evening as security managed to get Gerald out of the hall, but his fiancé, Ivan's sister, was separated in the stampeding crowd; gunshots making patrons scream in concern.

In their comms, Moss barked, "Veronica! Someone cover Veronica! She's the informant - get to Veronica!"

The Jailbird flipped the catering table to reveal several heavy-duty guns strapped for this very moment. He and Lemon made their selections, Tan preferring his fist; someway, somehow, missing getting shot by Ivan's men. But the Russian gangster was just as angry, fending off Tangerine and even getting a few punches in himself. All for nought, though, because Tangerine had the power of his anger propelling him; your face conjured in his mind, bloodied, making him hit harder - and harder - and harder.

"You! Dirty! Fuckin'! Scum!" Tan punctuated each word with a blow of his fist, keeping Ivan in his grip like a vice. "C'mere! You've done it now, haven't yah, you fuckin' bastard? Fucked up by touchin' my woman! I'll fuckin' gut you!"

Ivan's elbow cracked Tan's nose, making him stumble back a few steps. The Russian grinned, blood outlining his teeth, "She was real pretty, wasn't she, eh? I tried to leave her face for yah! Didn't wanna fuck that up too bad!"

"C'mere!" Tangerine roared, knuckles bloody. However, as he was winding up for another hit, one of Ivan's men tackled Tan from the side and knocked him into a banquet table - collapsing it.

The Russians were in an abundance, yet stood no chance when Tangerine got ahold of a handgun. The Jailbird preferred the larger shotgun, blowing gargantuan holes in people's chests; Lemon keeping it simple and just doing his job by taking out the enemy. It was Tan who was absolutely feral, sprayed in the blood of his enemies and sparing no life he came across; the party's occupants screaming in terror and trying to flee the event hall between gunshots.

"Tan!" The Jailbird barked, pointing off at someone, and when he looked, Tan locked onto Ivan again. The Jailbird located Veronica, trying to save her, but being unsuccessful when a Russian got to her first - disappearing from his line of sight as the chaos rampaged.

Growling, Tangerine started firing single shots to the heads of anyone in his way of his main target, but this time, the Russian saw him coming and was plenty prepared. The blade Ivan used cut Tan deep, filleting flesh; but did not stop the man wanting to avenge his love.

Bodies hit the floor left and right as Tangerine's anger swelled, there not being a single force in the world that could stop him now. Whatever Tan could get his hands on turned into a weapon, finding every single Russian responsible for what happened to you - the love and light of his life.

The engagement party was decorated with white table cloths and white roses, now stained and splattered in blood the longer the fight went. The musicians of the live band had fled, security encountering the Russian that had Veronica and shooting him dead, food covering the walls. Moss had tapped into the security cameras, informing his men when more Russians were racing towards the room; grunting when he threw off his headset, grabbed a gun, and left the van to take out anyone trying to get inside.

Lemon did his best to cover Tangerine's six, but the Russians kept coming in waves; far more prepared than they were that evening. Yet it didn't matter, their numbers might've been high but the anger Tangerine and Lemon felt was a gift from God Himself, spurring them to work harder and smarter.

Once inside, Moss brought The Jailbird to higher ground and strategically shot down their enemies while Lemon and Tangerine operated on the ground. When face-to-face with Ivan, Tan seethed, "You waited 6 years for a shot at me, would've thought you'd try harder."

"Don't need to," Ivan laughed, "I already got you!"

"Didn't get shit - "

"That why your girl's all alone? Don't worry, lad, I sent some boys to go deal with her. C'mon, then!" Ivan taunted, waving Tan in an antagonizing motion, weilding the 6-inch blade. As the two exchanged blows, Ivan laughed, "Never told me! Did you like my li'l gift? How I left your girl?"

Tangerine grit his teeth and used a chair to bash the Russian over his head. "I'll fucking gut you for touching her!" He shouted, people still squealing and screaming in fright.

"You stole my inheritance! That Faberge Egg's been in my family for generations!" Ivan roared, "And my fucking sister! If not for you," he grunted, taking a hacking swipe and missing, "she never would've opened her mouth!"

"Your sister, mate, fuckin' hates your guts!" Tan barked, kicking Ivan back and sending him crashing through a table. "She would've spoke even if we hadn't picked her up!"

"Bullshit!" Ivan snarled, swinging and his blade catching Tan's bicep, slicing shirt and flesh. "My sister knew loyalty! Until you rotten fucks showed up, kidnapping her, confusing her! Fucking brainwashing her!"

"She's the one who hired us, mate!"

"Liar!"

Tangerine earned the upper hand by flipping Ivan onto his back, dropping to his knees, and wailing his fist into the Russian's face. He kept hitting him, even when Ivan stopped moving; flesh tearing, meat flying, bones breaking, and blood spurting in every which direction.

Blood painted his face, droplets racing down to create streaks.

At the safe house, Kiwi was making tea when there came a series of distant banging from outside the flat's door. She met your worried eyes and pulled out a gun, holding a finger to her lips to indicate you to stay quiet. She checked the in-house security system, spying a few Russian Mafia members fighting through the security guards and getting closer.

"Right," she rushed, helping you off the couch, "you gotta hide and stay quiet, love, I'll handle this quickly."

"Handle what? What's going on?"

"They're here."

"A-Are we safe?"

"For now."

"Are the lads!?"

"We'll find out!" Kiwi stuffed you inside one of the closets, assuring, "No worries, I'll handle them, you just stay here. Aaron would kill me if he knew something happened to you on my watch."

You didn't even have time to register that she used his real name; finding no choice in the matter as she shut the doors, and through the slats, watched her brandish a gun. You flinched when you made out the sounds of a struggle and then several gunshots, not knowing who fired them, who was being shot at, or what was happening.

Tears of fear filled your eyes, holding your breath and just waiting with trembling appendages. You hated waiting. You hated not knowing. You hated the tension, the fear, the cultivation of stress.

When the doors ripped open, you gasped shrilly and stepped back into the wall, but calmed when you realized it was only Aaron. And then you realized - it was Aaron!

"Baby," you gasped, leaping into his embrace out of sheer relief; arms wrapping around his neck and being dampened with blood. "Oh, my God, oh, my God, you're okay - you're okay, you're really okay."

"Yeah, 's all right, love," he rushed, one arm holding your waist, the other petting the back of your head. "I'm all right, 's all right, I'm here. I've got yah, love, I'm here now. They're all dead, they're all dead, my love, we got 'em all, you're safe, it's all right. Nobody will touch you again - never again, sweetheart."

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" You sniffled, pulling back to take both his cheeks in hand and frowning, "Is this blood!?"

"Yeah," he whispered, gently taking your wrists to pull your hands down. "But it's all right, 's not mine. I'm not hurt." He didn't let you answer, rushing, "Are you all right? Hey? Not hurt?"

"No, no, Kiwi - she protected me," you nodded, sniffling. "Where is she? Is she all right!?" You suddenly panicked, but Tangerine shushed you gently.

"She's fine, love, she's safe. Not a single scratch on her. Had most of the Russians down and out by the time we got back."

"And Brian?"

"Lemon's fine," he promised softly, "just cleanin' up in the other bathroom. Which," he smirked gently, "we should probably do the same. C'mon."

You agreed, hating the sight of blood on your man. When in the shower together, you got a look of the cuts and bruises he earned that night; knowing that despite him being the reason you were attacked, he was also the man who would protect you from anything and anyone. No matter the cost.

There was nowhere you were safer.

Watching you wash his wounds in spite of your own, Tangerine realized he didn't need to ask your father for permission - he was gonna marry you. Come hell or high water, there wasn't anything or anyone - be it Edward or Ivan - that could keep him from loving you the rest of his life.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

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silverhallow · 2 months

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Every Breath You Take

Violet Bridgerton II x Edward Becker (OC) Love Story

Chapter 1: Wonderstruck

Summer 1838

Edward had been to My Cottage before, he stopped regularly on his way to Eton to collect William Bridgerton but it was the summer of 1838 that would forever stick in his mind.

He was 16 years old and was becoming more aware of what was to become him in a few short years. He was the only son of the Duke of Somerset and he was 10 years younger than his older sisters and he had been unexpected but to his father, a welcome relief but now at 16, his father was actually taking an interest in him and preparing him for inheriting the Dukedom.

He’d spent a lot of time alone or with his cousin, the future Earl of Devon, Thomas Shuffield before he reached Eton where within days he’d become best friends with William Bridgerton.

William had everything that Edward had wanted in his family and often found himself jealous of the stories that William would tell him about his escapades with his cousins and siblings during their breaks from school and whilst he had heard a lot about William’s younger sister, he had never met her.

Over the last few years when he had stopped at My Cottage, Violet Bridgerton had often not been at My Cottage, having been either at Romney Hall or visiting her aunt and uncle at the parsonage but that fateful day, she had been home.

Edward had meant to spend the night at My Cottage as was custom before he would set off with William to collect Thomas on their return to the school but the weather had been bad and it had meant that he had to sleep on the road and arrived just after when the Bridgerton’s would break their fast.

He had sent a man ahead on horseback to let William and his parents know and he knew Mrs Bridgerton would worry about him if he was not there by the evening, when he arrived Mrs Bridgerton welcomed him at the doorstep and gave him a motherly hug and explained she’d prepared a bath for him if he wished to freshen up and eat before they departed.

He thanked her profusely, feeling awful from sleeping in the carriage and desperately hungry, so he made his way through the comfortable country home towards the guest room he would usually reside in and as he made his way onto the landing, thinking longingly of the hot water and Mrs Bridgerton’s cooks biscuits, there was a commotion and he heard the bark of the Bridgerton family dog Arthur and as a door opened he heard a girls voice “No Artie! Give that back!” and then the dog appeared with a rag in his mouth as he made a bid for freedom down the hall.

Edward chuckled and carried on walking only to find himself being crashed into not even two seconds later and he felt a cold wetness spill across his chest and as he looked down he saw a blur of blonde hair and the greenest eyes he had ever seen.

“Ooops! I am so sorry!!!” said the girl and all Edward could do was just stare, blinking like an idiot as his brain seemed to stall as he took in the girl.

“Vivi! Artie’s down the hall with your painting rag, if he gets in Dad’s stuff he’ll… well he’ll not murder you but he won’t be happy” came Will’s voice as he appeared around the corner “Lord, what happened to you Ed? Vivi you need to watch where you’re going”

“Right, yes sorry… I’ll go get Artie, sorry again” Vivi said to Edward before running off around the corner before his brain could mutter any words.

“It’s not a problem” he said half-stupidly as he looked at the space and just blinked.

Will just laughed and clapped him on the shoulder “sorry about Violet, she doesn’t look here she is going sometimes, especially when Artie is involved. Come here, I think i’ve got a spare waistcoat. Mrs C will get that cleaned up and send it down to us at school…”

Whatever else happened that afternoon Edward had no idea, it was all a blur as he swapped his waistcoat and put on one of his best friends, but he didn’t see Violet again as he was in the carriage within an hour but he was certain of one thing as he climbed into the carriage…

He was almost 99% sure he had just met the woman he wanted to marry…

#bridgerton #Benophie babies #Benophie next gen #Violet bridgerton ii #bridgerton next generation #ash writes

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cellarspider · 1 month

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28/?? Katamari Damacy

(Previous) | (Index) | (Next)

⛬

We return to NA NAAA NANANA NA NANA NA KATAMARI DAMACYYYY

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[Video description: It's the We Love Katamari soundtrack, specifically Katamari On The Swing.]

You wanna see the dumbest thing you’ve seen all movie? Of course you do. I’ll try to figure out a way it could have worked. Content warning for character death, and a monster attack that I’m mostly not showing because I’m squeamish and y’all are going to have to deal with that. Yes, I, a person who used Pink Flamingos as a cinematic comparison earlier in this series, am squeamish about a scene in Prometheus. Sometimes stuff just hits you different for no discernible reason.

Vickers and her lifeboat quarters ejected separately from the Prometheus, so she's wandering around on the surface not that far from Shaw. Both of them are therefore in The Danger Zone when the Engineer ship crashes, intact and rolling along its circumference. Spare a thought for how seasick the Engineer is probably feeling right now, and for David's still-conscious head, rattling around like a coin in a washing machine.

But we only see Shaw and Vickers, as they realize what's coming, and start up run away. …Down the path of the gigantic ship.

I want to emphasize, both of them do this. Do panicked people make dumb decisions? Yes. Are movie audiences predisposed to being charitable about that? No they are not, the audience expects rationality. The audience needs to be brought down to the perspective of the characters, so that irrational decisions make emotional sense.

You need to make people feel the disorientation of encountering something so much larger than you that your sense of space is completely thrown off. It can be done. There's an animal fear in there, where self preservation kicks in and can steer you right or wrong. Something’s too large, or moving too fast to grapple with, or both. Jacob Geller has an excellent video essay covering this topic in video games, for instance.

For movies that do that? The one that comes to mind first is Edge of Tomorrow (2014). The beach landing scene in particular gets you into the perspective of a guy who is not supposed to be there and is completely disoriented, while remaining visually readable. It sticks close to him and his panic. The danger around him is all-encompassing, and he cannot keep track of it all. This overwhelming speed returns at points throughout the movie, leading to points in the theater where I physically leaned away from the screen, like I was in the original audience for The Arrival of a Train at La Ciotat. (1895)

And somehow this manages to be tense despite the fact that the man we’re following is Tom Cruise.

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[Video description: A clip of the aforementioned scene. I highly recommend Edge of Tomorrow to anyone for whom Tom Cruise isn’t a dealbreaker. In fact, you get to watch Tom Cruise die! In this very clip! It’s a tense, engaging science fiction action movie, with good bits of humor, Bill Paxton as the most unhinged Master Sergeant you’ve ever seen, and Emily Blunt plays a goddamn space marine, power armor and all. As that description may imply, I especially recommend the movie to any 40k enjoyers–it hits a similar tone. You may also find the movie listed under the title Live Die Repeat.]

But no. In Prometheus, we the audience are shown the whole thing. The entire context. And what we see is a couple of morons that seem to believe they can outrun a wheel the size of a small town.

[A wide shot of Shaw, mid-logroll as the ship rumbles by in the background, entirely unconcerned, because it’s a fucking inanimate object that wasn’t chasing her in the first place]

Neither of them actually think to run left or right. Shaw just trips, and then rolls to the side. The average human does not roll that fast, so it really drives home how unbelievably bad they are at this. Vickers also trips, and gets squished.

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[A clip from The Naked Gun (1988), in which a stand-off between police Lt. Frank Drebin (Leslie Nielsen) and Vincent Ludwig (Khan Noonien Singh himself, Ricardo Montalbán) ends with Ludwig falling off the side of a stadium before being run over by a bus, a steam roller, and the USC marching band.]

This scene, obviously, does not work. I am, however, stubborn enough to try and workshop how it could have worked.

Vickers needs to be broken beneath the wheel, and to do so in a way that the audience won’t jeer at. We’ve already discussed the issues of having too wide a view of the action, so let’s table that. How could you keep that perspective, while flattening Vickers?

You do have options. Maybe have Vickers do the smart thing and run off at an angle toward the sun, so she wouldn’t get any looming shadow to tell her when the ship begins falling over until it’s too late. Have her injured in the crash and unable to process what’s going on. Have her escape pod door fail to open, trapping her in the path of the ship. She was part of the corporate machinery, having petty power over others but ultimately trapped by circumstance. Make that all literal.

And for fuck’s sake, don’t have the entire ship fall over on Shaw a few seconds later, letting her come out okay because she was huddled near the world’s strongest rock.

When the narrative blatantly plays favorites, my instinctive reaction is to resent the recipient of the movie’s favor. It feels like they're cheating.

Y'know what would’ve helped here, weirdly? Shaw thanking God for this. It would’ve theoretically been in character! The whole movie runs on christian logic anyway, so why not leave people wondering if there’s a supernatural power at work in the unbelievably fucked up universe of Alien. You’d swing back around to making people wonder what kind of loving god would allow chestbursters to happen.

But no. There is no god. Only the rock. You’re welcome.

Shaw has a hole in her suit or somesuch, and thus is propelled onward toward the lifeboat, which we know contains her newly-birthed squiddo, trapped in the med-pod room.

It’s not dead. Of course it isn’t. But what makes no goddamn sense is that it’s gotten massive. Yes, I know, Alien didn’t give an explanation for the embiggening of the chestburster either, but I am willing to give Alien the benefit of the doubt, and Prometheus just showed me a woman get killed by a donut.

David, possibly cognizant that Shaw is his only chance to not have to drag himself around by the lips, calls her to warn that the Engineer’s on their way to finish her off.

I waffle on whether this is dumb behavior from the Engineer. I know the movie’s reason for doing this is just to have one last action beat, and an unsatisfying payoff at the end of the film.

The Engineer spared Shaw before. Maybe that was a tiny amount of sympathy for how she was getting kicked around. She’d die alone on this alien moon, sure, but it wouldn’t be their doing. But the humans got their act together enough to crash the ship. Maybe sparing her was a mistake. Even one of them might be too dangerous to let live, especially when we find out soon that there’s more ships quite close by.

There was a cut bit here–I’d previously avoided showing these, but why not. The Engineer stopped and looked at the books strewn on the floor. Watched a little of Vickers’ weird screensaver wall, as it played one of the videos included in the transmission David had sent toward the moon during the journey, while everyone slept.

Ironically, most of the human material culture the Engineer gets to see is due to Vicker's disinterest in the mission, which completely failed to consider the fact that it's polite to bring gifts when you visit somebody. Her material comforts becoming the single point of cultural contact. A strange little coincidence, and a little more silent characterization for the Engineer, until David’s voice over Shaw’s radio sets everyone to murderin’.

But because this movie is allergic to characterization, so we can’t have that. Instead, we are only using their reappearance to hit another horror movie cliché: the bad thing that's gotten back up again. Here, have a clip from Scream (1996), which deliberately did a send-up of the trope.

youtube

Originally there was going to be a whole fight scene here, which they took out because they felt it lessened the Engineer. But as it is, they’re still reduced to a big ol’ monster with a scary face that lumbers in and tries to kill the heroine.

Want to know what’s weird? Both Alien and Aliens solve their final alien problem by opening a door. This is literally the same thing. This is their one weird trick.

And frankly, I can’t look at it, because what happens squicks me out. So good job I guess, the non-consentacles got me squirming in my seat. When I’ve subjected other people to this movie, I’ve shamelessly muted and walked away for a minute. Maybe at some point I’ll figure out what limit it’s hitting there for me and Litany Against Fear it to pieces, but not right now! Facehuggers are a manageable sort of unsettling, but I do not like the bodyhugger.

The screenshot hunt for this was not fun, lemme tell you.

So, yes, the last of the Engineers on this planet laid low by their own creation(s), they’re mortal after all, ironic circle of rebirth, yadda yadda, moving on.

You know what, I’m actually with Shaw right now. Lying face-down and having a cry is a very understandable, human reaction to all this. Good job, movie, you got me vibing with her for about thirty seconds.

Want to see how they screw it up?

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(Previous) | (Index) | (Next)

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Citations for alt-text rambles:

https://youtu.be/y-pE9j98jP0 da baaa, da ba da ba da ba da doodoodoo dabada daba da–

https://www.deviantart.com/pretty--kittie/art/Prometheus-Engineer-407316141

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WZ6JK1mPT-A&list=PLZbXA4lyCtqpMbPbUtqdnpx72tgxjSjo8&t=82

https://www.deviantart.com/pretty--kittie/art/Prometheus-Engineer-407316059

https://avp.fandom.com/wiki/MU/TH/UR_6000

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dicranurus

#Prometheus 2012 #Prometheus (2012)#rip my favorite character gone too soon #thank heck this movie's almost done #I AM ALMOST FREE #Youtube

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inkareds · 10 months

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Flying Together Miles Morales

nav // marvel m.list // ko-fi

✧.* word count: 3.3k ✧.* genre: Fluff ✧.* warnings: the reader is an aerialist so is assumed to be physically fit, but otherwise they are completely neutral

Miles finally realised how brave you truly were to be part of a circus troupe as an aerialist

This is heavily self-indulgent because I'm also an aerialist (mainly with lyra and silks) who desperately want to be able to do flying trapeze sometime in the future :')

"You do this without a safety net?!" Miles looked around as he walked into the gym space. All starry-eyed, he looked at the many aerialist training on their different apparatuses.

“Well, the flying trapeze people get a foam pit, mostly because of space reasons.” You explained as you pointed over towards the specific area where a foam pit lay, on either side of the foam pit was a tower where people would climb and then perform their act.

You couldn’t help but grin ear to ear as you watched Miles look around your space. The circus gym was like your second home at this point with how much time you’ve spent. So having him finally visit the space and meet all your teammates excited you.

Miles looked about the space, it was built similarly to a gymnastic gymnasium. Though instead of the normal gymnastic apparatuses, everywhere he looked were gears for different kinds of circus acts.

“Have you done all these?” He asked with so much admiration in his eyes that you couldn’t help but feel slightly flustered.

“Not really,” you chuckled diverting your gaze from your boyfriend, “I’m an aerialist so I mostly stick to the aerial stuff. Y’know, like aerial hoop, aerial silks, static and flying trapeze oh but I’m also learning-”

As you continued explaining, Miles listened to you intently. After all, it wasn’t every day he got to see you so passionate about something. He nodded along with what you were saying, not really understanding everything as you had now started to explain the semantics of being up in the air. He didn’t realise how complicated it was to actually be upside down until now, he just does it. Nothing happens thanks to his spider powers.

But when it comes to you, you had to remember to breathe, remember not to be there for too long, and remember to engage your muscles lest you want to accidentally pull something. All of it became second nature to you once you got used to it. Though with him, all of it was second nature the moment he did it. He wondered if any of the other spider-people had to deal with the issues you talked about.

Right as you started explaining about flying trapeze and your role in the performance your troupe was about to do very soon, one of your teammates called out to you.

“Oh shit, I have to go, you can watch me practice if you want?” You shrugged off your jacket as you started your stretches.

“Yeah, that’s cool.” He shrugged making his way over to the many benches on the side of the gym.

Miles started to actually pay attention to the people around him the moment he sat down.

There was someone in the aerial hoop apparatus teaching a student of theirs how to grip the hoop properly. Another person just got down from performing some flips on the silks only to groan at his burning hands, their spotters chuckling as they scolded him for not doing enough warmups. The final person he observed was you. You had just climbed up to the tower to get started on some flying trapeze routines.

His eyes widened the moment he saw you confidently take off, your hands gripping the bar as your body swung by. He saw the large smile on your face as your core tightened to force your body to swing backwards and land back on the tower platform.

You turned to speak something with your teammates, motioning to your hands before looking towards Miles and beaming him with a large smile all before jumping off again. At that moment he felt all the love he had for you rush to him like a crashing wave. Unbeknownst to you, he swung himself from building to building every single day. All with the knowledge that if he ever misstep, he had his healing factor, his inhuman strength, and his webs to catch him.

But with you, every time you jump off that platform and you take off into the open air of the circus gymnasium, there’s nothing there to catch you if things went wrong. Only something to cushion your fall. Yet, you still do it, all with a massive grin on your face as you flipped around and a teammate catches you.

He knows he isn’t special to be able to do what he does, there are thousands of spider-people out there doing the exact thing he did. Yet, when he looked around, seeing these truly fearless people put their trust into their hard work and muscles. When at any time they could fall, and those who didn’t do the trapeze, break a bone or injure themselves badly. He didn’t know how they could do it.

Throughout the rest of your practice time, he had a warm feeling in his chest.

When you finished, Miles insisted on walking you home. Joking about how it was the gentlemanly thing to do, to which you only responded by bumping his elbow. Stating how adorable he was when he tried to be chivalrous. Through the laughter and jokes, he finally asked you the question he had been dying to ask you ever since he saw you in action.

“Do you not get scared?” You smiled at his question.

“I used to, I still sometimes do, but whenever I do I just think about the fact that there’s this person out there who does exactly what I do but without the fixed routines and spaces I’m given.” You looked down at your feet as you explained, “When I think about it that way, I forget about being scared.”

Miles felt his chest tighten at your explanation. He knows you’re talking about Spiderman and the fact that his existence could make you feel that way makes him feel things. Though through the silence and wide eyes, he realised he needed to act normal about your statement. Quick, what would Miles who wasn’t Spiderman say to you at this moment?!

“Didn’t know you were such a fan.” He mumbled awkwardly after clearing his throat.

Shoving his hands in his pockets in an attempt to act casual. You rolled your eyes at his statement, lightly nudging his side.

“I just think he’s pretty cool, that’s all.” Now Miles' eyes were wide open.

“Really?” he elongated the y in the word.

“Yeah, I mean he swings around and fights crime, who wouldn’t think he’s cool? Also, he does tricks in the air too! A lot of my teammates tried to do some of the tricks, they don’t do it as well though.”

“Well, I mean, he has powers, so I think his tricks are harder for normal people to do.” Miles rambled. “He also got his webs that lets him go anywhere, you don’t got that in trapeze or any of the other things there.” He explained.

You nodded along with him, “I guess you’re right.” Miles couldn’t really pinpoint why, but he must’ve said something wrong as your expression fell slightly the moment he stopped talking.

Before he could correct himself and lighten up the mood again, the two of you had reached the front of your flat. You both said your goodbyes, but the moment you got to your door you looked back to Miles.

“You’re coming to my performance on Saturday, right?” You asked hesitantly.

Miles nodded excitedly, “Of course I will.”

His simple response made a bright smile creep its way to your face.

“Alright, cause,” you hesitated, wondering if you should say it. “I based my routine off of you.”

Before he could respond anything you opened the door to your flat and run in. Ignoring the fact that Miles stood there like a baby deer in headlights, shocked and speechless. Of course, all before a love-sick grin made its way to his face. He’s definitely looking forward to Saturday.

When Saturday did come, you looked out the curtains when the first act had just finished to find that Miles wasn’t anywhere in the crowd. Your lips tightened into a thin line at the thought of Miles not making it to your big performance but you brushed it aside. He must just be late.

So, you toughened it out. There was still around an hour before your act, the final act. You wouldn’t be the sole flyer of the act, but you’d be the centre of everyone’s attention considering yours would be the furthest ones.

You just hoped Miles was here to see it.

To no knowledge of yours, Miles was currently trying to swing his fastest towards the location of your performance. He had decided to take up some daytime patrolling today, considering how he wouldn’t be able to do any of it at night due to being with you. But then he got way too caught up and one thing led to another, so now he was late.

As he swung around the city he passed by a street he frequented, a guy whose been watching him from across the block yelled out to him, phone in hand.

“Do a trick!”

With a chuckle and, to be honest, for his ego, knowing it’ll be posted. He flew himself off his web and spun his body around in the air before webbing himself up from the ground before he could fall. The people around him cheered at him as he chuckled and quickly swung away in your direction.

The time was nearing even more, the act right before your show had just wrapped up. You still hadn’t seen Miles around the audience.

“Hey,” one of your catchers tapped your shoulders seeing how anxious you were getting, “He’ll show, don’t worry too much about it.” They spoke right before it was their turn to go up to the rig.

You shook your head and gritted your teeth. They were right, Miles will show up, he knows how important this is to you. So, with a deep breath, you prepared yourself mentally for your performance.

As the song started to play, you walked out with a bright smile. The crowd goes wild as the lights blared in your direction, blinding your view of the crowd. When the beat quickened you knew it was time for you to climb the trapeze rig and begin the tricks portion of your act.

Your quickening heartbeat deafened your ears as you best to strain them to listen to the music beats through the loud noises of the crowd’s cheers.

Though you didn’t see it, Miles had made it just in time. He realised he was extremely late, but knowing that your act was the final one he figured he’d still come in time to see your act. But because at this point all the seats were taken up, he stayed near the entrance of the show stage and watched from the corner.

Miles mumbled your name under his breath when he saw the way you looked. You looked ravishing, your face caked with stage makeup and a shiny costume. Despite how far away you were from where he was watching his senses let him see you much closer than anyone else.

He cemented the way you looked in his memory, wanting to sketch this in his book later on. But just as you were getting to the last hold to get up to your rig, your hand missed the hold. Almost on instinct, Miles readied to lunge forward his costume still underneath his civilian outfit. But, one of your teammates grabbed a hold of your hand and pulled you up.

He saw the way your expression fell from the careless mistake. Why were you so nervous? Your head slightly turned towards the audience and he realised why you were nervous. You were looking for him. Miles immediately beat himself up for it, but he stepped forward a little towards the light. Hoping you would catch his eyes.

You scanned the room a couple of times, your heart dropping at every second you didn’t see your boyfriend. But finally, your eyes met his, and just like that, all the anxious energy in your heart dissipated.

“You got this.” Miles mouthed towards you.

He knew you probably wouldn’t be able to see it, not with all the bright spotlight in your eyes. But from the way your eyes lit up and your smile got even larger, he realised it didn’t matter what he said to you. The fact that he was there at all was enough.

Funny, he thought to himself. After all, the fact that you were there with him, despite not knowing the secrets he withheld from you, was also enough for him.

With your confidence boosted you performed.

Along with the music and the practised routine of your teammates, all of you performed with pizzazz. Miles watched and cheered along with the audience. Yelling slightly louder than the people around him more than once.

When your final move came, you took a deep breath. You had only successfully tried this trick once, amongst the countless times you had practised it. You knew it was possible, after all, it is an official move. But no one else in your gym had been able to get it right.

You wanted to get it right.

You had to.

After all, your choreo was dedicated to Miles Morales. You needed to hit this trick.

Opening your eyes wide, you let the wind catch you as you leapt off the platform. The wind against your skin, your mind focused on the next things you had to do. For a moment, time slowed down.

You could feel your palms burning from all the tricks you’ve been doing. You could feel the sheen of sweat and the way your stage makeup refused to melt off. You could hear the way the crowd’s breath hitched at the final trick. You had to make it. You will make it.

Swinging ones to the front you pulled your body back for the momentum. When your body was high enough you immediately threw yourself forward, propelling yourself to the sky right at the moment you see the catcher in front of you leap from her own platform.

The moment you let go of your bar you willed your body to stand in the air as your hands folded in front of your chest and you forced yourself to twist upon itself. Spinning mid-air, a full twisting double.

Miles' eyes blew wide the moment you landed the trick, as you fell to the ground your catcher immediately took your hands in theirs and flung you to the other platform as crowds cheered. He stood there, frozen.

That was Spiderman’s trick. You landed Spiderman’s trick.

When the realisation hit him, he erupted into cheers. His own applauses were drowned out by the crowd but as he watched you take your bow he realised you were just looking at him.

After your bows, you ran backstage and Miles followed.

Behind the stage, acrobats and aerialists were already taking off their greasy makeup. Congratulating and hugging everyone they come across with tears in their eyes. Months of work and training have finally come to a close. And the show was a hit.

Throughout the rush of people congratulating you for your success, you weaved around from them. Of course, you expressed your gratitude, but you needed to see someone else right now.

Miles embraced you the moment he saw you. Not caring about your sweaty body or your stage makeup, not even your chalky hands that definitely left an imprint on his clothes. He only wanted to hold you right now.

“You were incredible!” He enunciated every word, a bright smile on his face as he continuously cheered for you. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here from the start but the way all of you were just flying in the air! And that trick you did halfway through where you flipped mid-air?! How’d you do that?!”

Miles wouldn’t stop talking as he kept complimenting your performance.

“I’m just going to change and take all of this off real quick, wait for me?” Miles nodded enthusiastically.

“Well, duh.” You chuckled before going to the dressing room to change.

When you got back to Miles he was already ready to walk you home. The way back home was quiet, mainly because the adrenaline within the two of you finally ran its course. What was left was exhaustion on your part and a busy mind trying to process everything that just happened on Miles’ part.

Because he was doing all of that, one moment stuck out to him. The last move, the last trick, was supposed to be the most special trick. It was the closing move and if your choreography was dedicated to him, why did you do Spiderman’s trick?

“Hey, what was that last trick you did?” Miles started. With the way your eyes lit up, he realised you were waiting for him to realise.

“It’s a full-twisting double.” You smiled.

“Oh- huh- guess you gotta sneak a move for Spiderman in there? Right?” he joked.

Though his heart stopped when you stopped walking. Miles turned around to find you staring at him.

“Is something wrong?” he started, slowly getting antsy.

“Miles,” you spoke, “You know you’re not good at hiding it, right?” His mind ran a thousand different scenarios. Though it landed on one.

“Pshhh, what? What are you talking about?” He shrugged, averting his gaze from you.

“That wasn’t for Spiderman, that was for you, Miles Morales, my Spiderman.” You stepped closer towards him.

“What?! Spiderman? Oh you mean like, you idolise me and stuff. I don’t know nothing about Spiderman.” He rambled on as took step after step closer to him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

To cut him off, you pulled him in for a kiss. Both your lips crash into one another in an unsynchronised manner. Miles let himself be shushed in favour of your affection. When you did pull away, he chased after you, causing you to slightly chuckle.

With the way, you looked at him, all doe-eyed and in love. He couldn’t help but admit it.

“How’d you find out though?” He said with a lop-sided grin.

“Well,” And then you began explaining. It started with the inconsistencies.

There were times when he’d disappear and you’d ask him where he went off to only for him to tell one story and then tell a completely different one the next time you asked him. At first, you thought he was hiding something else, but then other things started happening.

The biggest one was the first time you showed off one of your tricks to him on video and his reaction, safe to say wasn’t like most people.

“What if I was just some guy who wasn’t easily impressed?!” Miles argued.

“Nope! That’s not it! You started talking to me about the physics of it and like the momentum and stuff. Something only someone who has done it would know about! That alone wouldn’t have been suspicious but c’mon with all the other stuff?! It was just a matter of time before when I’d get it!”

Miles groaned while his head hung long. Though not long after he smiled.

“Guess I didn’t have to worry about anything at all huh?” You shook your head at his response.

It was true, he shouldn’t have worried about telling you his secret. You would’ve figured it out either way, but there was no harm in telling you. The most it would change was you’d be much more understanding now and he wouldn’t have to lie to you so much.

A comfortable silence slipped between the two of you as you made the final stretch towards your home. A silence that was broken by your voice.

“So, could you train with me with your webs when I can’t go to the gym?”

“No.”

#miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles x reader #miles morales x you #miles x you #spiderman atsv #atsv #spiderman #spiderman x you #spiderman x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman itsv #itsv

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agnerd-bot · 7 months

Text

Been getting back into VS Writing recently

I used to write some Death Battles on DeviantArt a while back, but I fell out of it a few years ago. However, given recent seasons have been giving me a VS writing itch, I thought I'd share a matchup I've working on. Enjoy!

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Phantom Field, Purgatorium

Deep within a world hidden between the folds of time and space, within a land of flame, stone, and darkness, a massive castle stood. Forged of twisted steel and hewn from molten rock, this fortress served as one of the only safe havens from Purgatorium's molten domain.

Inside the castle, the fortress's master and sole occupant sat within a laboratory. A tall, voluptuous witch, with her long pink hair going down to her back and eyes colored black and gold, walked through her chambers, mind deep in thought. This was Konoe A. Mercury, master of the domain of Purgatorium. Suddenly, her stride stopped, and the witch's eyes narrowed, calmly waiting, even as she heard and saw absolutely nothing around her.

"..."

SNAP!

BOOM!

"AIYEEEEEEE!" From the rafters of the laboratory, a figure fell down, hitting the ground with a crash, the intruder's cloud-covered cloak wreathed in flames. To Nine's curiosity, the figure bore a bright orange mask, obscuring most of his features from view, save for a single hole for one of his eyes, and the bushy black hair sticking out from atop his head. "YEOWWWWW! HOT! HOTHOTHOTHOTHOT!" The fool who dared invade her sanctum was now rolling on the floor like a madman, desperately trying to put out the flames on his clothes. "STOP, DROP, AND ROLL! STOP, DROP, AND ROLL!"

Konoe, being the one who set him on fire in the first place, merely scoffed in annoyance at the childish flailing before her. "You have some nerve trying to sneak up on me..." the witch hissed out in barely-restrained rage. "Who are you? How did you get here? And why are you here?" Snapping her fingers, Nine raised her hand to ready another fireball. "Speak quickly, unless you want me to melt that mask to your face with this next attack."

Patting himself down, the masked man held up his hands placatingly, ignoring the remaining embers. "Hey, hey! Don't you think you're being a little too aggressive?! I am your house guest after all! A pity that you didn't have any snacks set out..." Seeing the former hero's eyes narrow, the man began to sweat even more. "A-ny-ways! I was just in the neighborhood, dimension-hopping and all that, you know, the uuuuuuuuusual! And I thought I would stop by! After all, it's not often you find a world displaced from time and space like this!" Putting a fist to his chin, the intruder began to wrack his brain in thought. "Let's see, let's see, is there anything I'm forgetting...?"

"Your name," Nine responded exasperatedly. Did this man have rocks in his head, or was he simply enjoying being this annoying?

"Ohhhhhhhhh!" the masked man laughed, slapping his head. "Silly me! How could I have forgotten?" Extending a hand and no doubt smiling an infuriatingly dopey grin underneath his mask, the stranger let out an irritating guffaw. "My name's Tobi! Nice to meetcha! What's your name?"

"Tch!" Nine callously slapped Tobi's hand away, before pointing a blackened finger directly at his one visible eye. "Leave this place, clown. This isn't a daycare for morons. If I ever catch you here again, I will make sure that I eradicate you from existence." With that, Nine turned on her feel, marching away to resume work on Requiem.

"Awwww... Are you sure you don't want me to come back?" Tobi whined. "This place is sooooooo cool after all! I found so many interesting things to talk about when I get home!" Letting out a low chuckle, Tobi blinked, revealing his blood-red eye and the black wheel pattern within. "So many things indeed..."

At the sudden change in tone, Nine stopped mid-walk, turning to face the masked stranger, meeting his crimson eye with her own gold. "...I'll ask again." Nine rolled her shoulder back, cracking the knuckles on her left hand. "Why are you here?"

"That mechanical monstrosity you've constructed is powerful... and dangerous," Tobi began, keeping his voice in the same deep tone as before. "I can't have something like that interfering with my own plans." The two began to circle each other, neither one taking their eye off the other. “So I have to get rid of it… And if I need to, I’ll ensure the creation won’t be separated from its creator for too long…”

"Is that what this is about...?" Nine mumbled. "How short-sighted of you. My creation will replace 'God' and bring this world to order. I've seen the strings of fate that manipulate this world, and I intend to cut them all away. Tell me, you mask-wearing fool. Can you even comprehend my purpose?"

"Hehehehehe..." In an instant, Tobi vanished from before Nine's eye. No, it was more like he had vanished from existence entirely. As Nine looked around the room in confusion, she suddenly felt a chill run up her spine as a hand clasped at her shoulder. Leaning in close, Tobi whispered softly into Nine's ear.

“More than you could ever know..."

"What-?!"

CRASH!

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Before Konoe could even process the fact that Tobi had reappeared behind her, she felt a dull impact in her side as the Akatsuki member slammed his leg into her body. The witch's body was sent flying into a nearby window, shattering it upon impact and sending her flying out of her castle. Nine's body tumbled along the burning rock of Purgatorio, before she forced herself onto her feet.

"Hahahahaha! Made you look!" Tobi cackled, his voice returning to the same high-pitched, nasally tone it had before. Leaping out from the open window, he landed gracefully before Nine, taking a strange facsimile of a combat pose. "Now then, since you so rudely refused to take my generous offer of advice, you have left me no choice but to-"

"Hrrragh!" Infuriated at the man's sheer insolence, Nine unleashed a wave of fire, aiming to burn Tobi to nothing but ashes in the wind.

"EEEEEEEK!" The Akatsuki member's eye bugged out from behind his mask as he flinched back from the witch's wrath. However, even despite his panicked reaction, the area around his eye began to morph and swirl...

Sing the Infinite Requiem

Nine the Phantom VS Obito Uchiha(Blazblue VS Naruto)

#writing and other stuff #death battle #blazblue #naruto #konoe a mercury #nine the phantom #tobi #obito uchiha #I've been wanting to get back into writing fights again for a while now #and Obito VS Vader was basically the tipping point for me #when watching obito's half #i kept going 'he reminds me of somebody'#over and over again #and by the time i got to the end i realized #“Oh shit he's literally just Nine but a ninja”#and so this was born #hope y'all like it #i also got two other vs ideas that i'm workin' on if'n y'all are interested #Youtube

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drip-drop-brain-pop · 6 months

Text

Struggles of Healthcare

I work as a CNA, and I'm super super passionate about it. I'll be the first one to start screaming at the top of my lungs about resident rights, their dignity, their humanity that people forget about. I take my job seriously, to the point where I go above and beyond to help my residents, to make sure they're comfy/safe. I've worked at VP since January this year, and it's been one wild ride. I started part time, literally only 12 hrs every other weekend, with promises for more hours. Guess what never happened, to no one's shock. So in late July I picked up another job at WS, and was so impressed by the place I wanted to go full time. So starting in August, I dropped my hours at VP and started working at WS. Come to mid September and things are going terribly at WS, I've got coworkers targeting me for no reason and trying to claim I'm bruising the people we care for. Well this wasn't true, and I wasn't going to stick around to find out how much worse things could get. I ended up crash landing back at VP, working overnights. Starting back at VP felt good, like coming home after a stressful trip. It wasn't going to feel that way for very long, as I would discover.

Today is 10-21, and I'm waiting for a call Monday to schedule an interview at another home. Things are not good in the land of VP, and for the first time, I'm nervous to be working at a place. State has a magnifying glass on the place over inappropriate resident relations, and our Director is still trying to hide things from them in regards to the open investigation. One of the residents in question was given a notice of eviction, but it's up to her kid to find another facility for her to go to, and they haven't done anything yet. On top of this, the place is literally falling apart. The transportation van has been broken for over a year, the wifi is very spotty and hard for the residents to use, but they won't pay to fix that either. We are in charge of washing our residents clothes, we have 3 washers and 3 dryers. The problem is one dryer has been out of order for over a year and a half and another one is about to go out, but nothing has been done to resolve that either. I feel angry for my residents, because they live there and don't have other options. This place also keeps employees that are lazy, neglectful and rude to residents, and any reports of this behavior are brushed off by management. One employee literally posted one of the residents on her snapchat story because he fell and she was mad about it. The resident's face wasn't visible but that isn't the point. I just feel like the resident's deserve better and nothing is being done to change it. Also, we can't get new hires in, because our background checks are being delayed by the state. All because we are behind on our Medicare charting, which we wouldn't be behind on if our Director (who cannot fill them out, she has no medical certifications) hadn't kept them in her office where we couldn't access them.

At this stage in the game, I'm just hoping I can kill this interview so I can get out of there. Someone is going to end up getting hurt, and I can't be there to witness it. I know that I wouldn't be able to contain my temper, and I can't guarantee I wouldn't get physical, which isn't who I am anymore. I care about the people that live there, they all have a piece of my heart, but the burn out I feel is real. In the space of a month I've gone from being joyful and peaceful to angry and resentful, and most of all, constantly exhausted. There's only so much one person can take, and I'm reminding myself that there's nothing wrong with knowing your boundaries and honoring them.

#healthcare #healthcareburnout #ramblings

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beautifullydisasterouskae · 10 years

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Exchanges

Kae: I’d left my loft just after noon, my mustang carrying me, the gift boxes, and a more than excited Luna the short blocks toward the bookshop. I flick the signal stick to warn the driver’s behind me as I turn into the parking lot, and into one of the empty white lined spaces lined up on the side of the building. After sliding out the driver’s seat I make my round around the back of my vehicle and get to quick work unloading my cargo.

Luna is light on her feet as she leaps through the air to land at my feet before she curls her fluffy white feline form around my legs. She was waiting not so patiently while I focused on settling the boxes in my cradled arms. Luna eagerly leads the way toward the front entrance, one of my arms precariously reaches out to maneuver opening the swinging door open.

I’m balancing everything in my arms, one hip holding the heavy glass door ajar while Luna and I scurried through the entryway. I clear my throat, calling out in a small voice across the rows of aged and new release book displays when I don’t catch any sight of Havyn or Spaz at the front counter.

Hello? Havyn? Is anyone home?

Havyn: I hear Kaela’s voice call out from the back room while I’m in the kitchen, grabbing a cup of coffee. I’ve been craving the caffeine all day, trying to stave off the exhaustion I’ve been feeling, the steaming mug warming my cold hands. I hadn’t even heard the bell above the door jingle. I smile to myself, ecstatic to see my friend and apparently so does Spaz as he scurries out of the small backspace to rush into the main area to visit his fluffy feline friend Luna. I follow his lead, smoothing down my flower printed black skirt, and into the bookstore section to see my friend. Rushing up to Kaela, I give her a huge hug before noticing that there are boxes in between us and a small tinkling laugh escapes my lips.

Oh! Set them down on the counter.

Gesturing to the space near the cash register. I notice how Spaz and Luna are canoodling together in their own little corner. I smile wide and turn my full attention back to Kaela, looking into her honeyed eyes with my own emerald ones.

I’m so glad to see you. I’ve missed you! How were your holidays? How have you been?

I rush out with questions and realize that I’m rambling. I worry at my bottom lip and wait for her answers, hoping that she had a great time celebrating Christmas and New Years. While she replies, I walk behind the wooden counter and reach below to pick up several boxes myself, wrapped carefully in shiny gold with red hollies wrapping paper, and place them gently on the varnished surface. I can’t seem to get the silly smile off my face.

Kae: My heart drops a little concerned at first. My mind briefly recalling the last visit to the quaint shop. I breathe out a sigh of relief as it washes over my rising emotions when I hear Havyn’s lilting tone. Spaz’s lean tan and black form moves into view proceeding Havyn’s dark floral flowing skirt. A tight smile crosses my features seeing how much more energetic and happier she looked from before.

My body is crushed when her forward momentum crashing into the stack of boxes still being held in my arms. I laugh out, eyes lighting in delight at her cheerfulness and gently slide the bottom box across the wooden counter top.

I laugh again at Havyn’s enthusiasm, full lips still held in a happy expression.

“I’ve missed you as well. Merry belated Christmas and a happy new year to you, Darlin’!”

My cheeks flush brightly at my Texas twang peeking through my words.

“My holiday was pure insanity at the club. How were things here for you and your furry counterpart?”

Honey pupils illuminated when I see the holiday wrapped squares Havyn lifts from beneath the counter. I wanted to tell her she shouldn’t have. I knew she’d been having trouble around the shop and money had to be tight for my friend.

Havyn: I clap my hands in delight when I see the light in Kaela’s eyes when I bring the packages out from under the space behind the register. I can’t wait until she sees what I got for her, I hope she likes them. I think she will. When I was in the eclectic shop with jewelry and crystals, it just seemed to speak to me and I knew that I just had to get it for my friend. The other I had seen her browsing through about a month ago, her hands gracefully tracing over the pages of the bound tome.

“Me and Spaz were great. Had a tree decorating, lit with golden lights… it was absolutely beautiful.”

I wasn’t going to tell her that I spent it alone, crying at midnight on New Years for some stupid reason. I wasn’t going to tell her that the tree brought back memories of the past with Eirrin. The only last holiday I can remember was spent with her. I suck it up. The only thing I can do is move forward and hope to unlock those stolen memories, hoping to find my answers in there. But what and who can help me with that, I don’t know. I draw myself out of my dire thoughts and smile wide at Kaela, anxious to see if she’ll like what I wrapped up for her.

“Go on! Open them!”

Kae: I nodded while Havyn spoke gently, excitement evident in us both and I felt a twinge of sadness at not being able to celebrate with my friends. I turn a keen gaze around the shop and see that the floor is vacant of patrons. It was so quiet and so still outside of our small gathering at the front counter.

“How about we have a seat and we can both open our gifts?”

I inhale deep in my chest, the decadently faint aroma of freshly brewed Colombian roasted beans wafting into my lung space.

“I’d love a cup of coffee if you have a pot brewing.”

I smile lopsided, following with the wrapped boxes gathered back into my arms as we make our ascent up the stairway to the top floor of the small shop. With each step we made I was hoping Havyn would like the presents I’d selected.

A beautiful eggplant pashmina silk screen shawl I’d come across at one of the boutiques in West Hollywood, accompanied with a finely aged bottle of Vampire blood wine, along with a few smaller gifts for Spaz.

The largest present I’d put the most thought and work into. I’d had the canvas framed after my work was complete. I’d poured my heart into the painting I’d created for Havyn. The dabs of hardened acrylic paint were cohesively formed to depict my own rendition of Havyn and Spaz over the front of the canvas. She’s seated comfortably in her favorite worn arm chair, an expression of her lost in her thoughts gracing her features while Spaz was coiled and fast asleep over the top of her lap.

I loop my fingers around the hanging wire purposely left out when I’d wrapped it for easy carrying.

Havyn: I nod quickly at Kaela’s request, hair falling into my face at my enthusiasm. I rake a hand through my mahogany locks to push them back away from my face.

“Sure, come follow me.”

I grab the presents for her with me as I ascend the spiral staircase, hand sliding up the white painted metal. I look behind me to see Kaela following and past her the cats were still playing around together in a mess of white, tan and black fur. I smile to myself, stopping to enjoy the moment of the cats batting around and snuggling at the same time. I turn my attention back to the stairs before I trip and hit my head with my clumsiness. The smell of the fresh brewed coffee is calling me, hopefully it will rid me of the dark circles I know that are forming under my eyes from exhaustion. I notice how many boxes Kaela has with her and I hope that my couple of meager presents will be enough. I had also thoughtfully included a little something for Luna too; little catnip filled mice that she will hopefully enjoy. I think of the Topaz necklace I had bought for Kaela. The pendant was beautiful, placed in a filigree setting attached to a dainty feminine chain. I think it will look beautiful on her. The book was one based on Wicca; something that I’ve never really heard of or explored. But, it had intrigued me as I had flipped carefully through the pages. I eagerly wonder if Kaela could explain this subject to me in greater detail. We get to the last step and I take a right, the smell of the brew wafting over to me and I sigh in pleasure. I lower my boxes carefully on the cherry wood table. I saunter over to the coffee maker, opening the cabinet above to withdraw a green ceramic mug and pour the dark liquid inside. I take a sip of my own made up coffee, enjoying the taste on my tongue and practically moaning in pleasure. I realize my eyes are closed and lift my lashes realizing that I’m being rude.

“What would you like in your coffee? I have sugar, milk…”

Opening the utensil drawer, I take out a silver spoon, ready to stir Kaela’s coffee for her. Glancing at the table I see the pile of presents and feel a flutter of butterflies in my stomach, wanting her to like the presents I got her. It means a lot to have my friend here to keep me company. I’ve never had a friend like this in my entire life and it feels good, especially because she is of my own kind, well partly at least. She understands what it is like to be a vampire.

Kae: I had to admit I may have gone a wee bit overboard with the presents but it had felt so nice having someone to shop for other than myself and Luna. I settle the boxes once more over the kitchen table, Havyn is fidgeting with her hair and I’m hoping I didn’t make her feel too uncomfortable as I read her body language.

My perceptive sight catches the dark circles under her emerald eyes in the kitchen light. She must be having sleep troubles. Most likely playing over the day her normally emerald pupils had strangely altered to a golden hue. I offer her a warm grin, folding into one of the empty seats before replying in a soft tone.

“Yes, please, sugar is fine. No milk. “

My ear prick at the sound of Luna and Spaz joining us in the brightly sunlit room. I cup the steam rising green mug into my hands after Havyn hands off the handle and I’m thankful for the warmth flooding into my system at the first aroma filled sip. California wasn’t as cold as Colorado this late in the season but there was still a bit of chill in the mornings.

“How has business been for the shop? Has there been any new customers stopping in for literature gifts over the holiday?”

My gaze goes distant a moment recalling the trance vision I’d had after the new year. A familiar customer Havyn had missed a chance of meeting that had been included in the painted scene depicting Denver. I still had questions mounting about the daywalking bombshell of a vampiress, Avae. I tried to make idle chit chat while I awaited Havyn to join me at the table, the gifts sitting at the side waiting for us to rip into.

Havyn: Carefully taking the sugar bowl out from next the coffee pot and adding two spoonfuls in, carefully mixing it. I place it in front of Kaela before going back to the counter to grab mine. I smile and laugh as I see the cats scramble into the kitchen to race to the cat food bowl and try to eat out of it at the same time. Two little feline heads bumping into each other. So adorable. I’m glad that Spaz has found a little friend in Luna. I turn back to Kaela and stroll to my chair at the table, gently lowering myself onto the seat. I blow on my coffee before taking a tentative sip, the slightly cooled brew sliding down my throat and warming my cold body.

“It’s been busier for the holiday season, thank goodness.”

There had been a myriad of customers that had come into the used bookstore; an eclectic mix between old dollar paperback romance novels and other more expensive mystical looking tomes. Watching some of the titles patrons have chosen out have made me more curious about certain subjects, but every time I tried reading a book on that subject, I was so lost. Not a clue what everything or anything meant. I mean, elementals? What are elementals? I had looked for more novice books on the subject but couldn’t find a single one in here. I snap myself out of my thoughts as I realize that Kaela’s been speaking to me. Presents? YES! I’m excited for Kaela to see what I got for her. I hand her the first box, the one with the book in it and wait expectedly biting my lower lip nervously as I wait to see if she likes it.

Kae: I straighten in my seat, lowering the mug with a broadening smile seeing the flat wrapped gift. I was delighted to hear things were picking up for Havyn’s bookshop. She needed the financial boost to her bank account after losing her job at the diner. Looking over my friend now, I couldn’t believe how much she had blossomed over the short period since I’d ran into her while we searched the streets for our lost kittens. I gasp softly seeing the revealed bound hardback, a title I had added to my wish list.

“It’s perfect. Thank you so much. “

I set the Wiccan book to the side already making plans to delve into the pages soon, then smile as I push the first gift Havyn’s way.

“I hope you like it.”

The small thin box seats in Havyn’s hands, her delicate fingers pulling the bow free before she goes to work on tearing the holiday paper open.

Havyn: I beam at Kaela as her face lit up when she saw what was concealed by gold foil and holly paper. It makes me so ecstatic that my friend likes what I’ve given her. I watch as her slender fingers linger over the top of the book, almost like tracing a pattern on it.

“You’re welcome Kaela. I’m glad you like it. I remembered seeing you looking at it one of the first times that you visited the shop.”

Kaela places a thin present in my hands and I get to work with opening the bow and tried to carefully tear open the wrapping paper. I open the box to see a gorgeous deep purple colored material nestled in there. I pull it free and hold it up; the beautiful shawl is soft to the touch and I know will help to keep me warm when we have these chilly California mornings. I wrap it around my shoulders and hug myself in it, eyes closing in delight as a slight purr escapes my throat. I look back over at Kaela.

“Thank you! I love it; it’s so soft and comforting. Okay, here’s your other one.”

I slide the small present containing the necklace over to her, practically holding my breath as I wait for her to open it. Something whispers within me that she will be more than happy with this piece of jewelry.

Kae: “You’re welcome, Darlin’.”

I nod with a light laugh, remembering admiring the volume along with others in the quaint shop.

“I did. I’m very intrigued with the Pagan practice. I’ve collected many books on the subject over the years.”

I silently wondered if Havyn was drawn to the subject as well. My golden brown eyes brighten even more seeing the second gift. I was feeling so giddy exchanging presents with my friend, the sadness from not being here to open on the Christian holiday wiped away as we continued opening the gifts.

I easily tear along the beautifully decorated holly paper, not wanting to rip it completely to shreds. I wanted to save small snippets of the various wrapping paper to add to a scrap book. I lift the top of the revealed box, a croaky voice breathing out when my sight falls onto the necklace resting inside. My gaze is misty seeing the dainty chain that hung a brilliantly faceted Mystic Topaz set into a gorgeously intricate filigree setting.

“Oh, Havyn… you shouldn’t have.”

I swallow down the tears threatening to erupt from my tear ducts, offering her a watery smile.

“It’s stunning. So wonderful, thank you, truly.”

My heartbeat picks up a beat, a slow exhale freeing as I thread the chain around the column of my neck. The pendant falling just below my collarbone as I trail my fingertips over it admiringly once before they lifted higher to gently caress over the faery mark over my temple. It was a gift from Celeste before she returned to her home somewhere hidden on the mountain.

“Okay, one more gift. The biggest, and best for last as they say.”

I laugh a little choked up still over the gifts Havyn had so thoughtfully selected, trying to ease the air around us as it quiets to a low hum.

“And then one for our little fur babies to share. Do you think they’d like to open it themselves?”

I laugh once more, my voice lighter as the cheer of the day unwinds my emotions from the necklace. It reminded me so much of the mountain in Colorado and Celeste; a faery companion I’d encountered deep in the wooded landscapes near Nathaniel’s Denver home. I shake my head softly thinking there were so many signs leading me back to my old hometown.

Havyn: As Kaela tells me that she is interested in Pagan practice, it makes me wonder if she can teach me about the subject that I seem to be drifting to. I watch with eager eyes as she carefully pulls apart the paper. She lifts the lid and I see a glistening to her eyes as she gazes upon the necklace that had spoken to me. Her voice crackled when she spoke to me with emotion. I offer a smile back in return to the one she gives me.

“I saw it and thought of you. I’m so pleased that you love it.”

I watch Kaela gingerly touch it with her hand; it looks so stunning on her as it rests on her skin. My lips turn up at the corners before spreading into a huge smile. I’m so touched that I was able to pick something out for her that she would love.

“Biggest one? And, I also have one for own furry friends. I bet they’d like to share it too.”

She hands me a rectangular paper-wrapped gift and as I carefully make my way into the wrapping, a painting emerges. I slowly take off the rest of the paper, noticing that there is a wire attached to the top, cleverly placed outside. Depicted across canvas is a painting of myself, gaze dreamy, with Spaz settled across my lap. My fingers move delicately over the colors, recognizing the tattered green chair I love next to the window. My fingertips stop over the window; it is snowing outside instead of the usual view. Something wisps through my mind like a ghost, like a memory just out of reach. I look up at Kaela.

“This is… is beautiful. You painted it, didn’t you?”

At her nod, emotion wells up from deep inside. The thought it must have taken her to get the details right on Spaz and I… A tear spills down my face and I can’t help but gently set the painting down and practically race over to give my friend a huge hug, whispering in her ear.

“Thank you, Kaela. Thank you so much. I more than love it.”

Kae: At the sound of Havyn’s softly spoken voice thick with emotion is enough to set off my own eyes from tearing and spilling over. I stand upright in excitement, arms flung around her slender form in a long embrace as we laughed with small sniffles.

“You’re so welcome, Havyn.”

I clear the pink tinged tears from the corners of my eyes, laughing in glee that she loved my painting.

“I’m tickled pink and pleased you do, Darlin’. I was inspired by the subject and wanted to give you something you could enjoy daily.”

I exhale loudly, blowing out a playful raspberry to fight off more tears as I break back then reach under the table for the gift box loaded to the top with bright tissue paper. I click my tongue ever so softly over the roof of my mouth to call the kitten’s attention and set the bag on it’s side as I waited for them to attack. Right on queue Luna bounds over, batting at the straightened corners of the tissue. Spaz arches the line of his back up, side stepping on his black and tan paws in a hilarious manner as he tentatively approaches the bag.

I laugh along with Havyn, one arm resting over my chest as my shoulder shake softly. I give into them when Luna sticks her head into the bag to investigate, and pull free the black plush coffin with white skulls painted along the perimeter of the pet bed. I crouch down to place the bed near one of the corners of the kitchen and wait to see which of the kittens would settle into it first.

Havyn: I wipe away the crystalline drops from my eyes as Kaela does with her’s, letting out a little laugh at the show of emotion. I watch her grab for something under the table before calling for Luna and Spaz’s attention. They stop what they are doing, Spaz pausing behind Luna as she dashes quickly to the bag. He finally follows and Kaela draws out a cute little cat bed for them. I grin. The black and white, coffin shaped bed is perfect. After she places it in the corner, the felines hesitantly make their way over to it, Luna stepping in first as if testing out water before completely jumping in. Spaz quickly follows his little friend. I watch as they start to explore next to each other. I grab my own bag and look over at Kaela.

“I think they’ll enjoy these too!”

In the bag are some catnip-filled, brightly colored mice. I glide over and put some of them in the cat bed. They begin to play with those for a moment before pawing at the bed again.

“I don’t think they know what they want to do more!”

I can’t help the laughter spilling out of my mouth, more than delighted with this day.

Kae: I laugh more in amusement at Luna flicking her paw around, turning a glittering green gaze back at me before she makes a round in the bed, her fluffy white tail curling around her body before Spaz climbs inside. I lift my head toward Havyn as she speaks, my smile beaming when I see the catnip mice.

“They are going to have a field day with those mice!”

I squeak out a sharp laugh, the kittens sniffing at the mice before they hop around, flinging the mice across the tiled kitchen floor. I shake my head, one free hand grazing over my pocket on a small swing and I want to smack the heel of my palm over my forehead at forgetting the other present. I didn’t want to reveal the true reasoning for wanting to invite Havyn back to my home in Denver, not until I spoke to Nathaniel and asked for help at least, and I hoped she’d say yes to joining me. I spin on my feet, facing my friend once more fully.

“I almost forgot...it’s not a gift per say...well I guess you could say it’s a present for us both.”

I close my eyes, laughing silently as I ramble, clearing my throat as my hand delves into my sweater pocket for the flight tickets wrapped with a small bow.

“I won a raffle at work, at the club over the New Year, and...if you’d like I was hoping you’d join me for a trip?”

One of my sharp canines worries over my lower lip wondering if it was too much.

“It’s completely up to you, you can say no. I won’t be offended.”

I groan out quietly, straightening out my arm that held the pair of tickets to stop myself from sounding too foolish.

“So what do you say; Will you be my travel partner?”

Havyn: We watch the cats play with their new toys, laughing at their antics. Kaela suddenly turns toward me and I almost jump at the speed of it. I notice that she is fumbling with her pocket as well as nibbling at her lip, the same kind of nibble I do when I’m nervous. What is she nervous about? Then I hear what she says about winning tickets at work and she’d like for me to join her. She stops rambling and thrusts the tickets out to me. I softly laugh and take the tickets.

“I would love to be your travel partner. So where are we going?”

I take a look down at the tickets and undo the small bow to take a look at our destination. Colorado. I’ve never been there before. I brightly smile.

“I can’t wait to go! I’ve never been in that area before. I’m looking forward to this adventure. We’ll have fun, I’m sure.”

A small tinkling laugh comes out of me.

“I guess I should pack warmly then.”

Kae: I bark out a short laugh, nodding, my body vibrating in pure joy when Havyn agrees to join me.

“Yes, very warmly! It’s much more bitter in winter in Colorado.”

I clap my hands, excitement rising in us both with the prospective trip on the horizon.

“I’m so glad you’ll join me. Luna and I have a house in an old canning warehouse there so no need to fuss with hotels. Oh, and I have a few friends I’d like you to meet.”

I bounce back over to the table, my coffee mug cooler to the touch as I lift it up to my grinning lips, so looking forward to this trip with Havyn. I hoped by the end of our visit to Denver that she’d be closer to unlocking the hidden memories of her past.

#rp #story #thepast #kae #surrealink #havyn

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kiridarling · 3 years

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𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐃𝐞𝐤𝐮, 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐨

𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔.

→ Okay. Izuku Midoriya? A sadist.

→ And you've been a brat all day, because he's been busy fighting crime as a newly debuted pro hero, and you can't help it if Izuku's new suit fits him a little too well.

→ And of course, the one day he finally has time to take you on a date you two go to the mall, only to be swarmed with thousands of Pro Hero Deku fans buzzing with requests for photo's and autographs and other bullshit and you just want to clobber them in the head and spit the ugly truth in their faces—that at the end of the day, their lovely Deku comes home to you, and sleeps next to you, and the fact that they can steal his attention away from you is absolutely outrageous. Blasphemy.

→ So naturally, you start acting up. You roll your eyes at the next fan who asks you to take the picture and you scoff at the next fan that announces their love. You pile them on, offense after offense, and by the time you get into the car, Izuku's practically vibrating with anger.

"Say one word and I'm bending you over the hood."

→ Oh.

→ Needless to say, you're squirming the whole ride; though you're unsure if it's from his words, the dead silence, or the tight grip Izuku has on your thigh but either way, the trip back home feels painfully long.

→ The second you two get through the door, he's cornering you into the living room and bending you over the arm of the couch without a second thought, big hands yanking your hips back so your ass sticks out just the way he likes it.

"Bratty doll...you wanted my attention that bad, huh?”

→ Izuku exaggerates every other word with a harsh spank that has you whimpering behind a bitten lip. Though eventually, he deems your muffled moans not enough and aggressively yanks your bottoms off, stuffing his fingers into your mouth.

→ Once they're wet enough, he slides a finger in, (because no matter how angry he is, you’re still his baby). But once you're ready? It's game over.

→ You figured Izuku was going to be a tease about it, but once he sits you on his cock and doesn't move, it has you squirming in confusion. What the hell could he be waiting for?

"Awe, what's the matter, doll? Did you want me to move?"

→ The hold his hands have on your waist is tight enough that you can't even twitch your hips—and the grip only gets tighter the more you wiggle in protest. Izuku tuts, landing a slap to your bruised ass that makes one thing clear: You’re not moving.

→ The green-haired bastard turns on the tv, for fucks sake. And has the audacity to pretend like he's paying attention to whatever's on—because it's not like you're paying attention, too preoccupied with the cock in your guts. You can't squirm because something tells you that'll only lengthen the punishment you've been sentenced to, but by the end of the first episode, it's a little hard not to.

→ Izuku caves the second you start begging. Mostly because it was what he was waiting for, but also he's probably struggling worse than you while he watches you whimper and squirm in his lap.

“Fine, doll. Since you waited so patiently, I guess I can make you feel good.”

𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈.

→ 100% your idea

→ And he had absolutely no warning. The Bakusquad decided to hold a movie night in the common room on a random Saturday evening when the dorms were pretty much empty. Katsuki didn't even want to be down there in the first place, but after you winked so prettily and promised he'd get a treat if he came, he didn't grumble nearly as much.

→ But what he didn't know was that you meant right now.

→ Katsuki knew something was up the second you sat in his lap and asked Denki for a blanket—that's rarely your Bakusquad move night cuddle position, plus you're always saying how you never need a blanket because Katsuki runs so warm.

→ And he definitely knew something was up when you started grinding against him, not even ten minutes into whatever shitty action movie Denki and Eijirou convinced the group to watch this time. His hands rush to your hips because if Katsuki Bakugou is anything, he's not a goddamn exhibitionist.

"Oi, the fuck are you doing, dumbass? They're gonna fuckin' see."

→ But as always, you take his words with a grain of salt, already blindly fiddling with the buckle of his belt despite his threats (AKA, I'm gonna fuckin' kill you, you fuckin' heathen). The metal clinks for a second and both of you tense, but it seems no one hears it over the movie, so. You relax.

→ Katsuki does not.

→ You wait for a loud crash from the television speakers and you're sinking down on Katsuki's cock, his teeth tearing into your shoulder as he holds back a moan. Both of you let out a shaky breath when you bottom out.

"W-Well? You gonna fuckin' move or what?"

→ You shake your head.

"No? Fuck."

→ And honestly, all is well until about twenty minutes into the movie. At this point, Katsuki's semi-comatose, eyes half-lidded from the surprisingly peaceful warmth you're both encompassed in. But unfortunately, this peace is disturbed by a rude awakening that comes in the form of none other than Denki Kaminari.

→ All he does is mention how Katsuki looks much too out of it, owing it all to "y/n's juicy caboose," but it has your boyfriend practically rearing on his hind legs in fury either way.

→ In the middle of all the commotion, you take the opportunity to wiggle your hips a bit, rendering the majority of Katsuki's arguments repetitive and ineffective. The bickering blond's shut up once Mina calls for it, and Katsuki returns to whisper-yell threats in your ear again.

"Do you want us to get fuckin' caught? Huh? I ca—fuckin' hell—stop movin’!"

→ But you giggle, having a little too much fun with this. The death grip Katsuki has around your thigh implies he’s closer than you thought, and the moment the action in the movie starts to pick up again, so does the steady roll of your hips.

→ Katsuki practically whimpers into your ear, body shaking with restraint because he lacks the proper space to “put you in your place” or however he wants to put it. You know he’s teetering on the edge when he resorts to something Katsuki Bakugou never does—begging.

“Babe—babe c-c’mon please, I don’t wanna—”

→ Katsuki’s nails dig into your thigh and he shivers as he fills you up, bottom teeth digging into his swollen lip. His quiet moans push you off the edge as well, adding to the mess under the blanket as fake explosions emanate from the tv screen.

→ That was...something.

“I hate you so goddamn much.”

→ You snort, rolling your eyes at his overdramatic ass. But?

“...But that was the hottest sex of my fuckin’ life.”

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀.

→ You and Hanta definitely do this once a month. At least.

→ Getting high with Hanta as your boyfriend is probably one of your favorite things. He's got snacks, cool LED lights, a monitor that constantly plays animal planet while the speakers play lofi. It's an experience.

→ And of course, you two get horny—though sex is a little hard when you're feeling fuzzy. Hanta's a high-functioning stoner but frankly, you're not, and even he gets a little fumbly when it comes down to it. Cockwarming seemed like the only viable option.

→ Half of the time, it's not even that sexual. Watching otters chase each other with his back pressed up against yours as you bask in a familiar warmth that only comes from true human connection is nice. Feeling his lips place butterfly kisses against the column of your neck is nice. Just...being with Hanta is nice.

→ But tonight? Tonight it's definitely sexual.

"So warm, Princess. You know your body does things to me, don't you?"

→ You didn't, but the way he says it definitely makes you believe him, and so does the way he rubs his hands up and down your sides. Hanta bites into your neck and you stifle a moan, balancing yourself on his knees.

→ You jump when his hand ghosts your inner thigh, and he chuckles when you bite your lip, eyes trained on the hand moving between your legs.

"Like it when I rub you like that, Princess? Like it when I turn you into a messy little puddle in my arms, hmm?"

→ You whine and nod, chest shuddering with the threat of an impending orgasm. Hanta curses behind you, the hand holding you steadily by the waist tightening.

"Shit—keep clenching like that and you might make me cum, Princess."

→ Hanta huffs out a laugh but you can hear the genuine implication behind it, can feel it in the pant of his breath against your neck. The thought of making him cum from something so simple has you hurtling towards your orgasm at an alarming speed, nails digging into his forearm as the weight of your marijuana-laced orgasm hits you like a fucking freight train.

→ Hanta moans breathily, eyebrows knitting as his own orgasm catches him by surprise. His hips twitch and it almost sends you flying off his lap but somehow, you don't go tumbling—though you might owe that to the vice grip Hanta has on your hip.

→ You two come down, basking in the gentle blue of the ocean as the chatter from the Australian narrator about the Humpback whales and their baleen teeth fills the room. You move to get up but Hanta whines, hands keeping you still via your waist.

"Lemme stay inside for a bit...'S warm."

[a/n: thanks for stopping by angel, and let me know who you want to see next <3. see you soon!]

—ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴀɴ 𝟷𝟾+ ʙʟᴏɢ. ᴍɪɴᴏʀs ᴅɴɪ

#— 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 #— 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀 #— 𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔 #bnha headcanons #bnha smut #bnha fanfiction #bakugou headcanons #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #deku x reader #deku headcanons #deku smut #sero headcanons #sero x reader #sero smut

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wannabe-fic-writer · 3 years

Text

Moment In Time

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Just when you've gotten out, you’re given a reason to come back.

Warnings: Might be some mild language.

Chapter 2

* * * * * * *

“Oh no one is judging you ya big doofus.” You trail a finger along the shiny metal surface, looking at your tinted and distorted reflection.“ Just think it’s a little unnecessary.” Looking up at Tony, you smile.

His brown eyes roll, a hand grabbing onto the roof of the sports car to assist in pulling himself out.“ There’s nothing unnecessary about having options.”

A snort of a laugh falls from your lips as you walk to the next car.“ Yeah sure. If that’s what you want to call this.”

“Half of these aren’t even mine.” He defends himself, hanging the keys up along with the other sets.

Pursing your lips you point to the car you’re in front of,“ who does this belong to then?”

“Natasha.” He answers, taking far too much delight in the way your challengingly cocky attitude drops.

So you decided to hang out for a while, see a couple floors and let Tony explain some things to you as he liked to do, then head home. But you’d found a reason to stick around. Or, better put, Tony found reasons for you to stick around.

You’d go to a floor, take in the sights, the tech, and listen to the man ramble on about the functionality of the floor. Around floor five you were ready to head out but Tony claimed you couldn’t see the medical floor and not go to the labs. And you couldn’t see the labs without seeing his workshop.

This reasoning went on and on until you found yourself in the garage. The sun had set a few hours ago, lights automatically flicked on inside the tower and the seemingly day to day sounds of the tower went away.

It’s quiet now, save for you and Tony talking and him occasionally starting up the cars.

You can’t lie and say you don’t enjoy hanging out with Tony. You’d always enjoyed your time with him, his actions and ideas unpredictable and so genius from the moment he learned to talk. But you also can’t lie and say you weren’t getting tired. A low, dull, rumbling started in your stomach not too long ago from the lack of food since this morning.

Making a bit of a show of looking at the last car, a sleep silver Audi that you know belongs to Tony, you check out the interior and make comments on the exterior. Then over exaggeratedly, you yawn and stretch your arms out.

“Alright T. It’s gettin late. Think it’s about time I head home.” You tell him, walking over and gently dropping your hand onto his shoulder.

He chuckles softly,“ Y/n, what kind of friend would I be if I let you go all the way back to Brooklyn while you’re tired and clearly hungry?” He pats your hand on his shoulder,“ you know Maria didn’t raise me that way.”

It takes every ounce of willpower to not toss him somewhere so you could leave. But you know it’s been some time since you and Tony actually hung out and while he definitely has some ulterior motive to this, his persistence gave it away, you oblige him. Your reasoning is that you know the food will be good.

What you aren’t expecting, however, is to find the entirety of the Avengers sitting around the living room on the main floor. Unlike the other floors that were quiet, a low chatter fills the space and a clanking of cutlery to ceramic plates.

With Tony’s arm around your shoulders, you’re guided to the tables lined with food that looks delicious. Tony obviously has some private chefs around here.

“Um, am I crashing some type of party or bonding time?” You ask him as he starts to pile food onto his plate.

“No,” he smacks his lips and waves you off,“ not really. We just eat together. Cap says it strengthens the team and all and I pay for the food so everyone comes. I’m sure they’ll be glad to have you.” With an almost devilish smile, he puts a bread roll on his plate and turns away.

Your narrowed eyes follow his retreating form. Sighing and shaking your head, you grab a plate, put a little of everything on it, then head over to the unoccupied bar.

Before you sit down to eat, you grab one of Tony’s expensive bottles of liquor off the top shelf. Pouring yourself a glass, you walk around the bar, catching the eyes of a couple members of the team before you sit down.

As you eat and drink, the laughter and banter of the team behind you erasing the silence of the room, you can’t help but remember the numerous times you’d had the privilege of being around your friends like that.

* * * * Flashback * * * *

With a friendly smile you push your chair out and stand up, walking over to the kitchen doorway. Reaching forward you grab the glass dish from the woman’s hands.

“Careful it’s-”

You nod and smile,“ I know. I’m fine.”

Marie’s eyes squint at you and she nods in understanding as she remembers. Patting your arm she turns back to the kitchen right before Jarvis comes out and follows you to the table.

Whispering a quiet ‘excuse me’ to Ana, you reach around her to place the dish on the table, then refind your seat across from her. The second your butt touches the seat two sets of eyes are on you.

“Y/n please tell this buffoon how ludicrous his invention sounds.” The angelically accented voice of your close friends says. You swear you can feel her gaze burning into your temple.

You look over at her, opening your mouth to speak when Howard cuts in.

“No Y/nn, tell Margaret that this is genius. It’s revolutionary!” He exclaims and your eyes widen a little.

Face morphing into an expression of offense, Peggy turns to look at Howard and they start bickering again.

Smiling amusedly, you lean back into the chair, making eye contact with Jarvis’ wife An from across the table.

Both of you shake your heads, An chuckling softly just before Jarvis comes to sit beside her.

“Howard,” the man looks up at the stern but sweet tone of his wife.“ That’s enough honey.” She gives a smile that matches the sweetness of her tone.

The Brit beside you snickers and you lightly smack the side of her leg with the bag of your hand, muttering a quiet,“ relax.” Which results in her huffing and crossing her arms, sending a glare at Howard that she fixes just as Marie sits down across from her.

Despite having been bickering since long before now, the Agent and Philanthropist waste no time in playing nice over dinner. Alongside them, Marie, An, Jarvis, and yourself have one of many very entertaining dinners. Laughs exchanged between all of you.

* * * * Flashback End * * * *

You’re yanked from the memory when a heavy weight lands on your shoulder.

Tensing up, you prepare yourself to fight whoever it is but you quickly remember that you’re in the Avengers tower with earth’s mightiest heroes. The chances of this being an attack are slim.

Still slightly tense, you look over your shoulder at the owner of the hand on your body. To find America’s golden boy looking down at you.

“Everything alright?” He asks, seemingly concerned. .

You give him a small smile and chuckle softly,“ all good Captain.” You give a playfully mocking salute and he sighs instantly afterwards.

Walking around the bar, he leans on top of it with his fingers laced in front of him.“ Listen I- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did on the jet earlier.”

“That’s one way to put it.” You take a bite of your food, staying silent until you swallow, then sipping your drink.“ We’re good. I know my unexpected bombing was, well, unexpected.” He chuckles lightly at your words and shakes his head.

When he reaches up to almost nervously rub the back of his neck, you know he isn’t completely sure that everything is good.

“Have a drink with me Cap.” You tell him, nodding to the shelf of alcohol behind him.

Looking from you to the drinks, he nods.“ You can call me Steve.” He tells you, putting some ice in his glass then pouring his drink.

“Well Steve,” you raise your glass to him and he gently taps his against yours.“ Feel free to call me Y/n.” You tell him, sipping your drink.

He smiles softly at you, your invitation seemingly having done the job of calming his nerves slightly. Light conversation flows between the two of you, a back and forth of questions that answers don’t hold much consequence but still shed some light on the types of people yourself and Steve are.

By the time the sun has disappeared beyond the horizon and the sky is littered with stars and the lights of every skyscraper you and Steve are well through one of Tony’s more expensive bottles of liquor. Loud laughs sound from the two of you as you joke with one another.

While the alcohol doesn’t affect either of your systems as it would someone else, the other occupants of the living space would assume you were drunk.

It intrigued more than a few of them how loose and easy going Steve is. It wasn’t as if he never had fun with them or drank, but there seemed to be something about you that brought an even lighter aura to the older man.

“It was incredible. I’m telling you,” you shake your head with a small smile of excitement.“ I wasn’t inclined to be excited about it since I was there to see the Yankees kick ass, but the Dodgers played exceptionally well.”

Steve has a small smirk on his face, nodding approvingly as he sips his drink.“ Well I can’t say I’m surprised.”

Once again you laugh, finishing your drink and leaning off of the bar top.“ Ever proud, Mister America.” You say teasingly, bringing yet another laugh from the tall blonde.

He finishes off his drink and you take a deep breath and release it.“ Welp Cap,” pushing up out of your chair, you smile at him,“ it was a pleasure chatting with you. Ever want to talk about the good ole days-”

“I’ll give you a ring.” He holds his hand out to you and you shake it firmly.

As you take up the glasses and your plate you nod a goodbye to Steve and go your separate ways, you to the kitchen and Steve to the elevators.

Setting the dishes in the sink, you turn the water on and lean against the counter as you wait for it to get hot. Just before your mind can begin to wander you catch sight of movement in your peripherals.

A smirk almost instantly pulls onto your face at the sight of the red head walking in. Her green eyes are already trained on you with a look in them that you can’t describe.

“Agent Romanoff,” you nod to her, smirk still in place.

She takes small purposeful steps closer, stopping a few feet away from you,“ you lied to us. Member of SHIELD for a while?” She raises her eyebrows and shakes her head with an overly sweet smirk,“ you founded SHIELD.”

You hiss in a breath of air through your teeth, turning to face away from her as you chuckle.“ I didn’t lie, actually. Withholding all of the truth is a different thing.” Drying the plates off, you set them on the rack to dry, the forks and cups following afterwards.“ And let’s make something very clear, I am not a founder of SHIELD.” You dry your hands and turn to her.

“Really? Cause SHIELD records say otherwise” She reasons, stepping closer.

Eyebrows raising at her further approach, you do the same. You smile softly at her and close the distance between you two, leaving just under a foot of space.“ I understand you aren’t happy with the redacted details of my history Agent Romanoff so let me clear it up for you.”

Natasha tilts her head at your words and listens intently as you continue.“ I didn’t found SHIELD. I was the first ever agent. Agent Carter and Howard Stark saved me and administered me an enhanced version of the same serum Steve took. I owed them my life and I made sure to protect them,” you falter at that, jaw clenching as a horrible memory flashes through your mind.

“That’s how you met Tony?” She asks. It wasn’t missed by Natasha. The ex-assassin could read anyone. The second she noticed the distant look in your eyes she knew something was wrong and while she was curious, something told her not to ask about that.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts and look at her.“ Was in the hospital the night he was born. Watched him grow up.” You smile fondly,“ he’s family.”

For a moment it’s quiet. Still you watch Natasha, unsure if she’s finished or not. Just when you think she’s done, you nod and head towards the door, only to stop when she speaks.

“Why did you come for us?”

Turning from the door, you look over your shoulder at her,“ I owed Nick a favor.”

Her eyes narrow at you and you give a small nod before leaving out.

Neither you or Natasha would’ve guessed that would be your last conversation for the span of the next week. While you were at the tower a few times, to drop off something you’d talked about with Steve or pick up Tony before the two of you went and hung out somewhere, you hadn’t gone inside.

She wouldn’t admit it to you but Natasha had started to wonder when you’d come back. Not only does your reputation precede itself, something about your personality intrigues her more than she’d ever been before. She wanted to see you again, talk to you again.

Green eyes look through the clear blue glass, brows slightly pinched together at the sight of you and Tony hugging. Natasha debated with herself whether or not she was going to go speak to you as Steve jogged out of the front doors and over to you, sharing a handshake and a hug.

The last thing the ex-assassin expects to feel is the little flutter in her stomach when you smile brightly.

She tears her gaze away from you, frown deeper than before. Her thoughts running a mile a minute.

When a weight drops onto her shoulder she almost flinches. Grabbing the hand on her, she twists it and forces the person to stand in front of her, slamming them into the window.

“Well damn.” You curse, using your hand on the window to push yourself off the window. A chuckle falls from your lips as Natasha let’s you go.“ Guess it wasn’t a good idea to approach a trained agent without speaking.” You say jokingly, green eyes snapping down to the smile on your lips and back up.

There’s an incredibly short pause from Natasha before she channels her usually straight expression.“ What’d you want Y/Ln?”

“How bout a smile Romanoff.” When a beat passes without her expression changing you sigh.“ I want a cup of coffee. And I want you to come get one with me.”

“Come again?” Her expression cracks slightly as her eyebrows raise slightly.

You tilt your head and smile softly at her.“ You were practically shooting lasers at me through the window. Figured either you wanted to get out of the tower or you were jealous Tony and Steve were taking up all my time.” A teasing tone wraps around all your words and Natasha instantly scoffs.

“I have no reason to be jealous of Stark or Rogers.” She says and you nod.

“I figured as much. Which means you want to get out of the tower.” You nod for her to follow you.“ Cup of coffee does everyone some good.”

Natasha watches the confident stride you make towards the door, not once looking back as you just know she’s going to follow. And she does, despite her pride telling her not to.

The coffee shop isn’t too far away from the tower so you walk. Unlike your walks with Steve, it’s silent. The redhead stays two steps behind you, not saying a word as she follows.

A burst of cool air rushes past the two of you with your first step into the coffee shop to the sound of the bell jingling above you. Smiling softly at the familiar building you walk further in.

Natasha takes into account that there are no more than ten customers inside. For a New York coffee shop it was incredibly quiet and quaint.

“Love it here,” she hears you mumble as you step up to the counter.“ Hi, can I get one medium black coffee and a large iced coffee with two creams and two sugars.” The woman rings you up and you pay. Pocketing your wallet as you turn to face Natasha.

You smile at her lack of emotion. There is no reason for you to be as grumpy and blank as she is.“ I’ve been to a lot of places but here, they have the best coffee.” You tell her.

Her head tilts slightly and you purse your lips and nod. Once again it’s silent as you wait, then you grab the coffees when your name is called, turning to hand the black coffee to Natasha.

With things going the way they are, you have an internal battle on staying here or just going back to the tower. Taking one last chance, you nod to an empty table and sit down. Natasha coming over and sitting as well.

“Look, Natasha, you can’t hate me so much that we can’t even have a coffee together.” Your tone of voice is one of confusion and slight sadness.

Frowning once again at the emotions in your voice, Natasha watches you. Green, calculating eyes and a blank expression are the only signs of how hard she’s thinking right now.

With a huff of a sigh she says,“ I don’t hate you.” She admits, face finally giving way to emotion.“ I- I barely know you.”

“Well maybe we should change that.” Holding up your cup of coffee you take a sip and tell her,“ I think if you give me a chance, I might not be as bad as you think.”

Her eyes narrow and for the first time ever, you see her crack the smallest of smiles.“ We’ll see about that.”

* * * * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows @natasha-danvers @blackxwidowsxwife @yumusak-yastik

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x you #moment in time #reader insert

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love-and-monsters · 3 years

Text

Polyam Alien Merfolk

GN reader X M mer-alien X F mer-alien, 6,743 words

Crashed on an alien planet and taken in by a couple, this story was uh, pretty self-indulgent for me. Not sure if anyone else is going to like it but I liked writing it.

CW: mentions of being in a cult and descriptions of family death and cult behavior.

“Is it like, alive?”

The voice was soft, coming from just over your head. Something sharp prodded your side. You groaned.

A second voice came from closer to your feet. “Sounds like it’s alive.” This voice was rougher, raspier, though also higher pitched than the first voice.

“Is it hurt, then? We can’t move it if its hurt.” The sharp thing poked your side again. “What if it’s really badly injured?”

Dimly, you were aware of sunlight against your face. Most of your body was covered with your skintight flight suit, but your face was exposed, and, from the feel of it, entirely covered in sand. Actually, given the grittiness in your mouth, most of your insides were coated in sand as well. The hard rock of nausea in your gut told you that you had probably swallowed a decent amount of sand too. Your lungs felt like they’d been aggressively sandblasted. Every breath stung like needles.

“Then there’s nothing we can do and it’ll die,” the second voice said. “It doesn’t look injured. I think. I mean, I don’t know alien anatomy, but everything looks right, doesn’t it? No blood. Nothing’s sticking out weirdly.”

“Internal injuries!” the first voice insisted. “What do we do? A doctor’s not going to know what to do about this.”

The nausea that had been churning in the bottom of your stomach abruptly kicked up a notch. Apparently, your body had decided you were awake enough to retch. Automatically, you twisted onto your side, abdominal muscles heaving, and a gush of fluid poured out of your mouth.

For the next minute or so, you were thoroughly occupied by vomiting. The nasty tang of saltwater mixed with bile filled your mouth and your injured lungs screamed for air every time you heaved. Finally, you were only dry-heaving and coughing into the sand. Somewhere nearby, you could hear the soft rush of waves against shore.

Groaning, you slumped onto your back once more. Sand shifted and crunched as you moved. Your head was clear enough to start putting the pieces together, though. You remembered… a space battle. Your little fighter had been hit. It had fallen.

“Hey.” The first voice was speaking again. You turned your head toward it. “Are you feeling better now?”

The speaker was covered in mottled scales, a dark green-blue near its back and a pale whitish color on its belly. From the waist up, it was humanoid, with a fairly human-looking face, large, fan-like fins along the back of its head and trailing down its back, and finned hands. From the waist down, it had the long, slender and finned body of some kind of sea snake. All of its fins had ruffled, fancy-looking edges and they were flushed a striking shade of red. Next to him was a slightly larger creature of the same species. This one had smaller, much duller fins and a slightly chunkier, rounded frame.

You tried to respond, but all that came out of your throat was a groaning hiss. The first speaker cocked their head at you. “Can you not speak? Could you not do that before or were you hurt?”

“Maybe that’s how it speaks,” the second speaker said.

“No! I’ve seen videos of them before, they speak like we do.” The second speaker rolled their eyes. The first speaker ignored them. “Hey. Hey! You okay? Blink twice for yes!”

You stared at the first speaker. They tilted their head back at you. “No? Not okay?” How were you even supposed to answer that question? You didn’t feel particularly hurt so much as pretty uncomfortable, but you didn’t feel totally put together either. After another moment of consideration, you made eye contact with the first speaker and carefully blinked twice.

“It’s okay!” they cried in utter delight. “Look, see?”

“Then we can move it somewhere. Get the interstellars involved. Go for the head, I’ll get the legs.”

“Why do you get the legs?” the first speaker whined. The second speaker ignored them and seized you by your ankles, hefting your legs up onto their shoulder. The first speaker, grumbling quietly, heaved your top half up.

Despite looking like sea creatures, they navigated the sandy dunes with a surprising level of ease. Within a few minutes, you were being set down on the wooden floor of a tiny, one-room building. The floor was flat underneath you, but you could see a slope leading into the ocean. The home was partially open, allowing for a smooth integration between water and land.

“Can you sit up?” The first speaker carefully lay you against the wall so you were in a seated position. “Naerie, can we get some water?”

The second speaker, Naerie, appeared holding a small, wooden cup. She passed it over to the first speaker, who held it to your mouth. “Here. Drink,” they said.

You sipped slowly. It wasn’t as pure as the water you were used to on your ship- it had a strange, slightly plant-like taste to it. Still, it was water and relatively clean, and it helped focus your mind and soothe your throat.

You leaned away from the water glass and cleared your throat. It was still sore, but it was functional. “Where am I?”

“It speaks,” Naerie said. Their voice was mildly surprised.

“Yeah. It does,” you said. “I… remember crashing here.”

“We saw that,” the first speaker said. “Well, we saw you fall into the ocean and dragged you to shore. I think your suit absorbed most of the impact?”

“They’re designed for kinetic redistribution.” The first speaker nodded, though their expression was entirely devoid of understanding. “Um. That means they’re designed to spread impact shock away from my body. I’m probably bruised, but I shouldn’t have broken anything.”

“I’ve never seen a human before,” the first speaker said. They lifted one of your hands, toying with your fingers curiously. They seemed fascinated by your lack of fins. “Not in person, anyway.”

“Yes. You’re quite a… reclusive species.” Naerie’s lip curled. A sliver of ice-cold worry dropped into the pit of your stomach. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“It-” An abrupt rush of memories cut your voice off. You remembered running, barely able to feel your limbs through the numbness of fear. You remembered navigating a tiny fighter ship with numb fingers. You remembered flying and flying, not toward anything, but just away, away, away. And then watching the slow failure of your ship’s systems, feeling the ice cold of space leech into your cabin, the thinness of the air. The certainty that you were going to die, cold and alone in space and that somehow, that was entirely better than being where you had been.

“Oh, hey. Shh, shh.” Scaled arms wrapped around you, tugging you against a warm chest. The first speaker was hugging you, nuzzling their face against your head. “It’s okay! You’re safe now.”

“I’m alone,” you said, voice choked. Tears spilled down your cheeks. “I swear. I’m alone. No one’s with me. I didn’t mean to come here. I’ll leave.”

“You don’t have to leave! It’s okay!” The first speaker tugged you into their chest and glared at the other. “Naerie! Be nice! It’s okay, shh, shh.” They rocked back and forth, pressing your head to their chest. “You’re okay. You’re safe now.”

“If you’re alone, then I suppose it’s fine,” Naerie said. They seemed unsettled by your sudden tears. “All right. Terraso, let them lie back. We should get a good look at them, make sure they’re not hurt.”

You ended up wearing only the thin undersuit of your flight suit while Naerie probed at you delicately. In the end, it was determined that you were likely badly bruised, but not seriously injured. As Naerie prodded at your body, Terraso prodded at your mind by conversing cheerily. Names and pronouns were formally exchanged, and you learned that your rescuers were a couple, and lived on their own on the outskirts of a large city.

“I don’t suppose you have anywhere to go,” Naerie said, glancing you over. “You lost everything with your ship, didn’t you?”

You nodded. Technically, the only thing you had lost was a second set of clothes, but they didn’t need to know that. “I know how to live on my own.” Not really true, but you were pretty sure you could figure something out. “I can-”

“Absolutely not!” Terraso reared up on his long, serpentine lower half. “If you don’t have anywhere to stay, you should stay with us.” He turned, looking pleadingly at Naerie. “We can’t just kick her out.”

Naerie, despite her cool nature, didn’t seem keen on kicking you out either. Her brow puckered as she looked you up and down. “No, I suppose not,” she said. “You look as though you’re one missed meal away from starvation.”

You laughed. “It’s fine. I’ve missed plenty of meals before.”

Terraso and Naerie stared at you. Apparently that statement wasn’t as reassuring as you’d expected it to be. “You’re staying,” Naerie said. “Tomorrow, we can go into the city and see if we can get you set up with a life preserver pass. It’ll at least let you stay for a couple of months.”

“Life preserver pass?” you repeated.

“It’s like an emergency citizenship card. For people who end up planetside on accident, and are having trouble getting back home. If you get a citizen to stick up for you, you can get a life preserver pass until you figure out how to go home again,” Terraso said.

“That’s the simplified version. There’s a little more to it than that. Terms and conditions and all that. But you don’t need to know that to fill out the paperwork,” Naerie said.

Terraso rolled his eyes and leaned close to speak in a stage whisper. “Don’t mind her. She works for interplanetary governmental communications. Lots of paperwork.”

You nodded. “What do you do?”

“Oh. Mind the house, mostly.” Terraso rolled onto his back, swishing his tail idly.

You stared. “Mind the house?”

“You know. Cook, clean, make sure everything’s all nice for Naerie when she comes home,” Terraso said.

You mulled that over. “You don’t have a job?”

Terraso shrugged. “I mean, I keep everything in the household running. That’s kind of a job. When we have kids someday, I’ll take care of them.” He gave Naerie an eager look. She smiled back at him. “Didn’t they have house spouses where you came from?”

“Everyone worked,” you said. “Both my parents. All my siblings. If you had time to relax, you had too much time on your hands.”

Naerie and Terraso exchanged a look. “Where did you say you were from again?” Naerie asked. Her voice was soft, like she was talking to something easily spooked. You bristled at the implication.

“I’m from the Unity Formation,” you said. Naerie looked at Tarraso. He shrugged.

“Okay. Well. You’ve been through a lot. Why don’t you let Terraso take care of you for a while? I’ll start getting things set up for going into the city and getting you a life preserver pass.” They exchanged a couple more significant looks as Naerie slipped into the water at the other side of the house. It seemed strange, but you were too exhausted to care. You slumped back against the wall.

“You want anything to eat?” Terraso asked. There was a forced, cheery note in his voice. “You really are skinny. It’d probably be good for you to eat.”

It was clear he was trying to distract you, but you were hungry enough to allow it. “Sure.” Terraso grinned and started rummaging through cabinets, chattering cheerily all the while. His voice rose and fell like a wave. After a little bit, you didn’t even hear the individual words anymore. Just the soothing sound of his voice.

The next morning, Nearie provided you with some clothes. They were toga-like, made more for her legless species than yours, but you accepted them regardless. They covered everything important, anyway. Terraso fussed over you until you had eaten nearly two large helpings of breakfast. Feeling uncomfortably full, you left with your companions for the city.

The city was built much in the same way as their house- partially submerged, with other members of the alien species slipping in and out of water with ease. However, you noticed a few other land-walkers, like you, walking easily through the part of the city that was on land.

Naerie noticed you looking. “This city’s one of the more progressive ones. It’s the only interstellar spaceport, so we get a lot of other species here. Not many humans, though.”

You shook your head. “That’s okay.” A hulking, bladed creature strode by. You tried not to stare. There were more species here than you’d ever seen in your entire life. Gawking at them would probably not make a good first impression. Naerie saved you by slithering up to the front door of a tall, stately building and gesturing you inside.

It was several hours of bureaucratic wrangling before you could leave the building again, this time with a subdermal implant marking your status as a temporary citizen. You toyed at the small bump on your skin. It was designed for easy removal, but you couldn’t stop prodding at it, barely holding in the urge to rip it back out. The feeling of something like that under your skin again was unsettling.

The next stop was the shopping district. There were a few small, out-of-the-way shops that catered to bipeds, and you left laden with new clothes. The variety was amazing- you had never seen so many different kinds of fabric in your life, or so many rich, vibrant colors. It was almost overwhelming.

“Is this all right?” you asked as the three of you left the shop. “It must have been expensive. I can try to pay you back-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Naerie said, waving her hand in your direction. “Temporary citizens get a small stipend to fund their lives here until they can get stabilized or off planet.”

“Oh.” You looked down at the clothes. “And you’re okay with me staying with you? I don’t want to be a bother. I-”

“I think it’s exciting!” Terraso cut in. “I’ve never really interacted with a human before.”

Naerie smiled warmly at him. “Terraso’s always been fascinated with aliens. And, regardless, we’re not the sort of people who throw those in need out on the street.” She gave a disdainful sniff, displaying her opinion of those sort of people.

The city glittered with glass spires as you headed out of the shopping district and into an area that smelled mouthwatering. “Want to get some lunch?” Terraso asked. His body bumped lightly against yours as he spoke. He had a habit of doing that, freely letting a hand rest on your side to pressing his shoulder against yours. You nearly jumped every time he touched you. The casual nature of it was surprising.

“I’m not hungry,” you said. “I had a lot for breakfast.” Not to mention that lunch was more of a holiday treat than something you ate every day.

“That was quite a few hours ago,” Naerie said. “You don’t eat much, do you?”

“I’m used to having only two meals a day,” you said, an edge of defensiveness creeping into your voice. Terraso and Naerie exchanged looks again.

In the end, Terraso convinced you to try some sort of fried plant that was apparently the city’s specialty. It was far richer and oilier than anything you’d ever eaten before, and you had to nibble it slowly. Terraso chattered amiably about the city- apparently he was something of an architect nerd and could list off a few interesting facts about most buildings, even the ones that didn’t look particularly impressive.

By the time you had returned home, you were exhausted, and your stomach was in revolt over the fried food. You spent most of the night hunched over their toilet while Naerie and Terraso alternately checked on you.

“I’m really sorry! I didn’t think it would make you sick,” Terraso said, tucking a blanket over your shoulders. You retched once more, bringing up thin bile. “I’ve seen humans eat that stuff before, so I just thought…”

“Maybe I’m allergic to it,” you suggested. Terraso made a chirruping noise of surprise.

“You weren’t gene treated for allergies as a kid?” he asked.

“Was I what?”

“Gene treated? You know, they do the histamine test and then they correct mast cells and…” He stared at your confused expression. “It’s standard medical procedure. Nobody gets sick or dies from allergies anymore.”

You shook your head. “We didn’t have it, I guess. I might not be allergic, anyway. I’ve never had anything like that before. Mostly, we had nutri-slurry.”

Terraso fussed with the edges of the blanket, twisting it between his hands as he tucked it around you again. “Did you grow up on a station in deep space?”

“Er.” You paused. “I grew up on a station.”

“You’re supposed to have one year planetside for every four years on the station. And more to eat than nutri-slurries.” Terraso’s tone was less scolding and more concerned. He gave you a look with his big, soft eyes. “Are you feeling any better? Less sick?”

“I’m okay,” you said. “You don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine.”

“Mm. I don’t believe you,” Terraso said. “You seem like one of those people who won’t admit to being sick even when you’re a fin’s thickness from death.”

“Being sick isn’t an excuse for missed work,” you mumbled. The memorized phrase jumped to your lips before you had time to even think about it. Terraso’s expression flickered for a moment before smoothing back to kindness.

“You don’t have any work to do right now, so why don’t you just rest?” Terraso curled his tail beneath him and smoothed the blanket between your shoulders. “Get some sleep. I’ll stay here.”

You were too weary to protest. Instead, you snuggled further under the blanket and closed your eyes. Even the twisting of your stomach wasn’t enough to keep you from the warm embrace of sleep.

Gradually, you settled into a sort of routine with your rescuers. You woke in the morning, ate breakfast, and Naerie would go to work. Then Terraso and you would take care of any household chores that needed doing. Given that there were two of you, it took much less time than usual, and Terraso would usually spend the rest of the day teaching you about the local culture. It was overwhelming at times, the level of variety that was present. So different from your home, it made your head spin.

As you got bolder with your questions, you noticed Naerie and Terraso exchanging looks more often. You just started calling it the Look in your head- you would say something about your home and they would give each other the Look. The Look usually meant the next few minutes would be full of awkward tension, while Naerie and Terraso circumnavigated the topic.

The first few times the Look occurred, it was strange. After that it quickly made its way to annoying, then straight up frustrating.

When they exchanged the Look after you spoke about the oddness of the local week-long festival, you put your foot down.

“If you think I haven’t noticed the two of you sneaking glances at each other every time I mention something from my home, you’re wrong,” you said. Terraso froze like a kid sneaking extra slurry. Naerie, on the other hand, seemed entirely unaffected. She put her utensils down and steepled her fingers, as best she could with webbed digits.

“We weren’t intending to keep anything from you,” she said. “But… ugh, I’m not going to dance around the reef anymore. Where exactly did you come from? You crashed here looking half starved, you usually refuse to discuss your old life, except cryptic, concerning details, and everything seems to suggest you crashed here on accident while running away from something. So. What were you running from?”

“I’m not a criminal,” you said. It came out far more defensive than you intended. Terraso sucked in a breath through his teeth and tried to play intermediary.

“We don’t think you’re a criminal! We don’t! That wasn’t what we were suggesting. We’re concerned, though,” he said, his voice softening. “We want to know that you’re safe. You don’t talk about your life before you came here. We’re just worried about you.”

“I’m fine.” Your voice was sharp, automatic. Defensiveness bristled all over you, like quills. “There is no reason to be concerned. I am still able to complete my duties.” Terraso blinked and he and Naerie exchanged the Look. “And stop doing that!”

“We didn’t mean to upset you. We’re only trying to look out for you.”

“I have been doing fine,” you said. “Please. Leave it.” Your voice shivered at the end. You swallowed. A shiver of fear rippled down your spine and dug into the pit of your stomach.

Terraso lifted his hands and spread his fins. “Hey,” he said, his voice lowering. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. You’re all right.” He moved slowly toward you until he was within touching distance. Despite being close enough to hold you, he just extended his hands, like he was waiting for you to make the first move. “Breathe. Just breathe. You’re safe. I swear you’re safe here. Just wait for a moment until you come back to us. Okay?”

The soothing rise and fall of his tone relaxed something in the back of your brain. Your chest loosened and the trembling fear in your gut eased. Tentatively, you reached out and touched his hand. His fingers closed around yours, loose enough that you could pull away if you wanted to.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Naerie said. She was speaking in the same soothing register as Terraso, though she was somewhat less practiced at it. “I’m just worried. I want to know that you’re okay.”

Her voice was unbearably tender on the last word. Terraso’s thumb traced along the back of your knuckles. The combination of two, tiny, kind actions made something in you, something that had barely been holding steady all this time, crack.

Sobs shuddered through your chest. Terraso made a quiet cooing noise and you slumped blindly, fumblingly, into him. Naerie slipped around him to rest a gentle hand on your back. For several moments, they held you up as you cried.

Somehow, you weren’t entirely sure how, you ended up on the floor, cradled between Naerie and Terraso. One of Terraso’s cheeks rested on your head. Naerie was rubbing your back up and down in slow, loose circles. “Feeling better?” Terraso asked quietly.

“I think so,” you said. Despite the tension releasing in your chest, you couldn’t get your fingers to relax on Terraso’s arm. He didn’t mention it. “I- I know you’re worried.”

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Naerie said. “I shouldn’t have pushed it.”

“No. I know I should talk about it. It’s… not happy, though.” You took in a deep breath. Terraso nuzzled you comfortingly. “It’s… I spent most of my life on the Unification Centralized space station. My parents joined when I was two. It was supposed to be this… utopia, I guess. A self-sustaining space station. But it wasn’t that. Once you were on the station, you couldn’t leave, and you had to work for the greater good. They said that all the time. You needed to work for the greater good. If you weren’t working, if you got sick, it meant you weren’t strong enough, that there was something wrong with you. And that was life. You worked and you tried to keep on the good side of the leadership, and if you didn’t you were in trouble.”

Naerie was looking at you with a combination of worry and horror. You glanced toward her face, but you couldn’t maintain eye contact. “I… left. My little sister- she was born after my parents joined. She got sick. Really sick. They said that she was being… I don’t know, punished for something.” Tears stung at your eyes, but your emotions had become manageable enough to repress them. “She died. Because we weren’t allowed to get help for her. And I didn’t know where to go after that but I knew I couldn’t stay there.”

“So, you left,” Terraso said. “That must have been terrifying.”

“It wasn’t, really,” you said. “I mean, it was. But it all seemed really far away. I didn’t want to die, but I guess I figured that staying there was a death sentence anyway, so it didn’t matter. I just… I had to leave. I had to.”

There was silence for a few minutes. Terraso rested his head on your shoulder. Naerie’s arm lay across your shoulders. Their touch felt stabilizing, grounding, like it was what was pulling you to the planet, not the gravity.

“I’m sorry,” Naerie said. “I’m sorry that happened to you. And I’m sorry about your sister.”

“Thank you.” Your voice grated in your throat. You cleared it a few times.

“How did you come here?” Terraso asked. “Did you just pick a planet to go to at random?”

You snorted. “I didn’t even get that far. I just tried to go in a different direction from the space station as fast as I could. I used one of the little space hoppers, the ones that are only supposed to be used for short travels. They don’t have onboard navigation systems.”

“That was reckless,” Naerie said. “You could have died. You almost did die.”

You shrugged. “I know. Like I said, I wasn’t really all that focused on surviving. I just wanted to get away.”

Terraso hugged you. His tail swung up, loosely wrapping around your waist. Naerie petted your head absently, though her gaze was distant.

“Please focus on surviving now,” Terraso said. His voice came out soft enough that it was almost a murmur. “It’s… scary to hear you talk like that. Like you don’t care if you live or die.”

You brushed your hand along his head, prompting his fins to stand to attention. “It’s okay. I’m feeling better now. It’s easier, with you two here. Like I have something to live for.”

Naerie smiled at you. Her eyes softened, glittering with emotion in a way you’d only seen when she looked at Terraso. Something in your chest tightened and loosened in the same moment.

“I have a suggestion,” Naerie said. “You have never experienced anything like the festival before, have you?” You shook your head. Naerie smiled. “Well. Why don’t we go out? It will be a good experience for you to have fun.”

Terraso perked up, lifting his head off your shoulders. “Yes! We haven’t been to one of the festivals in so long and it’s so much better with someone who hasn’t been before! You’ll love it.” He straightened up, tail coiling and uncurling with enthusiasm. “Only if you want to go, of course,” he added, looking at you with uncertainty.

“I’ve never been to one before,” you said, “so I won’t know what it is you’re supposed to do…”

Terraso grabbed your hands, squeezing them in his. “You’re not supposed to do anything except have fun! It’ll be good, I promise! And if you’re not having a good time, we can just go home.”

“It’s true. There’s no reason we can’t come back if you aren’t enjoying yourself,” Naerie said. “I think you’d enjoy it. And I think I’d enjoy seeing you have fun.”

“Okay, okay. If you both are so excited, then we’ll go. I just need a minute to get ready-”

“Meet us outside in ten,” Naerie said. She slipped underwater with Terraso, presumably so they could both get ready themselves.

Ten minutes later, Naerie met you outside. She flicked her fins casually in the faint sunlight that filtered through the clouds. “Terraso will be along in a moment. He likes to dress up.”

“Dress up?” The concept of getting into fancy dress to go places was still a bit of a foreign concept to you. Everyone had worn the same uniform in your old home.

“He likes the festivals,” Naerie said. “You’ll see.”

Almost as soon as she’d finished speaking, Terraso emerged from the sea, squirming in excitement. His fins seemed a brighter shade of red than usual, though you weren’t sure if he was slightly flushed or if it was an effect of the bright gold piercings he’d applied. A few of them even had red, fluttering cloths attached to them, giving the impression that he had more fins than he did.

“Are we ready to go?” he asked. Naerie smiled, linking one of her arms through his. The way her eyes roved over his body almost made you blush.

“We were waiting on you.” She reached out and, to your surprise, linked her other arm through yours. You tried not to look too surprised. As strange as it was, you didn’t want to do anything that might make her let go.

The city was enveloped in brilliant lights when you arrived. Aliens and natives alike were out in the streets, laughing and talking and shouting amongst themselves. The air smelled of a hundred different things, all delicious. Stalls were set up all over the streets, most of them with various pieces of art or food or souvenirs for sale. A few of them seemed to be offering some sort of lessons in art or dance or other such things. It was almost immediately overwhelming. Not negatively overwhelming, but it took you a moment to process everything.

“You should decide what we do first,” Terraso said. He looked at you with bright, eager eyes. “See anything you like?”

“Er,” you said. There were a lot of things that looked interesting, but you couldn’t sort out what a lot of them were, much less what you would enjoy.

“Terraso,” Naerie said. “Why don’t you pick first? We’ve been here before, after all, so we should be guides.”

In the end, Terraso dragged you over to some sort of simple game that consisted of tossing small balls into several different containers. You tried a couple of times, but the game was a lot more difficult than it looked. After quite a few tries, Terraso managed to score enough points to receive a stuffed toy resembling one of the many eel-like creatures that lived in their oceans.

“Here!” He thrust it into your arms, smiling triumphantly. You blinked down at it, a little confused.

“I don’t need this?” you said. “You don’t even have stuffed animals in your house. Why were you so intent on winning it? I don’t even think it’s particularly well made.”

“That’s not the point!” Terraso said, still grinning broadly. “The point is winning! Especially winning something for someone else!”

“He loves those games,” Naerie said, leaning over to speak quietly in your ear. “He’ll spend all our money on those things if we let him.”

You looked down at the stuffed toy in your arms. It looked pretty wonky, honestly. “Why? You could probably buy one of these for pretty cheap. Why spend so much money to win it? There’s no point.”

Naerie smiled slightly, eyes glittering. “Of course there’s a point. It’s to have fun.”

Naerie ended up drawing you over to some art booths. There were some live demonstrations, even things like glass blowing. You were fascinated by the careful motions, the way the demonstrator was able to twist blazingly hot glass into delicate shapes. Apparently taking into account how fascinated you were, Naerie practically shoved you into the arena the instant the demonstrator asked for a volunteer.

The demonstrator was kind and gentle as he helped you through the moves. In the end, you had a small replica of an undersea plant. Apparently you had a knack for shaping glass and the demonstrator insisted that you have another lesson when you came to pick up the piece from him.

“Perhaps there’s an apprenticeship there for you,” Naerie said as you rejoined her and Terraso.

“An apprenticeship?” you repeated. It hadn’t been something you were considering.

“Just a suggestion,” Naerie said. “You seemed to enjoy it and he seemed like a good teacher. I was only thinking- you’ve been here for a while. Perhaps it’s time to start… setting down roots?”

Her voice was delicate, gentle, but you could feel the intensity behind both her and Terraso’s gazes. It was true- you’d been living with them for a while, but you hadn’t really made any preparations to fend for yourself. You’d just been sort of floating.

“It’s something to think about,” Naerie said, putting a soft hand on your arm. “You don’t need to think about it right now.”

Your stomach picked that moment to interrupt. Terraso burst into high-pitched giggles. You glared. “Maybe we should get something to eat,” he said. “Something that’s not too hard on your stomach.” You pulled a face. They’d never forgotten your incident after the fried food and, in all fairness, you couldn’t either. Your stomach had adjusted to some of the heavier fare, but you were still prodded to nausea by anything with too much grease.

Naerie ended up picking some kind of grilled plant matter skewered on a thin wooden stick. Terraso practically crawled over her back as she took the sticks from the vendor. “Here, here, take it,” she said, passing him the stick. He bit into it delightedly, tail wriggling. She offered you one as well and you bit into it tentatively.

The fruit was sweet and salty in equal measure, with just a bit of bitterness from the char. You practically ripped into it, eating it with a ravenous fervor. Within a minute, it was gone.

Naerie laughed. “We’ll have to get you some more of those,” she said. She held out her own stick. “Here. You can have a bit of mine, too.”

You paused. Naerie had already taken a few bites out of it, and she was holding it out to you like she was just expecting you to take a bite while she was holding it. Somehow, that idea came across as almost unbearably intimate. A flush started to creep up your face. Still, Naerie was looking at you with expectance. Maybe you were overreacting? And even if you weren’t… you wanted to. Slowly, you leaned forward and took a delicate bite of the sweet fruit.

Naerie smiled. “Good?” Her voice had taken on a melodic tone, one that made your blushing even worse. You nodded slowly.

“Good,” you said. Terraso smiled and winked at you over Naerie’s shoulder. You looked down at the ground, flustered. “Er. We should, er. Keep going, right?”

The rest of the night was spent wandering the festival, attending the booths and activities. There was more to experience than you’d ever seen before- rides and shows and games all in a riot of colors. At some point, Naerie had pressed alcohol into your hands and you’d started drinking. Terraso was in a similar drunken state, giggling and flopping around, his slithering unsteady.

When the three of you made it back home, all of you were tipsy, bordering on drunk. Naerie was the most sober, but that wasn’t necessarily saying much. She managed to get both you and Terraso in the door before she slumped against a wall, giggling faintly.

Terraso was wrapped around you like a scaly rope, tightening his grip every time you tried to wriggle free. His head was pressed into the side of your neck, fins tickling lightly against your skin.

“Tired,” he mumbled. “Go to bed.”

“You can go to bed, if you want, but you gotta let go!” you said.

“No!” Terraso nuzzled further into your neck. “I want to sleep with yooouuu.”

“I can’t sleep underwater. I’ll drown,” you reminded him.

“Then I’ll sleep up here,” he declared. He lifted his head from your neck and, with some effort, focused his attention on Naerie. “Come on! Come sleep with us!” He made grabby hands at her, then started giggling. “Ooh. Sleep together. Ha ha. We shooouuuld.”

The double entendre made your cheeks grow warm. “Oh, I don’t know about that,” you said, trying to gently pry him off of you. That only made him cling tighter.

“But Naerie said she wouldn’t miiind,” Terraso said. He tilted his head, hanging off of you so he was looking at Naerie upside down. “Right? You said you wouldn’t miiiiiiind, Naerie.” He looped his arms tighter around your neck. “You’re so nice and pretty.” He hiccupped. “And- and- I love yooouuu.” His face was almost completely buried in your neck, muffling his voice. “I love you and Naerie and I wanna be with both of you! Naerie agrees!”

You looked up at Naerie. She was staring at you with wide eyes. It was hard to tell with her species, but you were pretty sure she was blushing. “He’s very drunk,” she said apologetically. “He tends to be, er. Very open when he has too much.” She held her hands out. “Here, I can take him and make sure he gets to bed okay.”

“Noooo!” Terraso wailed. He wrapped around you as tightly as he could. “Not goin’ anywhere!”

Perhaps you also had gotten a little tipsy, because you were feeling unusually bold. “I don’t mind,” you said. “If he wants to stay with me, that’s fine. He can sleep in my bed tonight.”

“Yay!” Terraso mumbled from his position against your shoulder. Naerie seemed conflicted, but she helped you and Terraso into bed. Despite how awkward it made things, Terraso was very insistent on not letting go of you at all.

“What he was talking about before,” you said as Naerie helped you into bed. “That stuff he said, about…”

“About the sleeping with you?” Naerie asked. She sounded unusually unsteady. “Yes. It was. I’m sure he wouldn’t have said anything if the drink hadn’t rendered him completely senseless.” Despite her words, her tone was affectionate. “We didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It doesn’t,” you said hurriedly. Terraso moaned and somehow managed to snuggle closer to you. “I like you. Both of you. You’re the first people who’ve ever been really nice to me. And you’re both so sweet and Terraso’s funny and you’re so caring- I don’t think I could ever find anyone better.”

“I was hesitant to approach you about it,” Naerie said in a slow, uncertain voice. “I didn’t want to make you feel pressured to be in a relationship with us because we’re the ones helping you. But we… have discussed it. Polyamorous relationships are fairly common among our species. We’ve been interested.”

“I’ve never had any kind of relationship before,” you said. “Not a romantic one, anyway. So I’ll be a little new to this. If you’re still okay with going through with this?”

Naerie smiled and leaned closer to you. One of her hands lingers on your face. “I think I would be interested in teaching you. And I’m certain you couldn’t drag Terraso away with wild therians.”

“It’s true,” Terraso mumbled into your shoulder.

Something in your stomach fluttered. “If- if you’re sure, then.”

Naerie smiled. “I could not be more sure,” she said. She leaned in, then paused, your faces less than an inch apart. You realized she was waiting for you to make the next move. It took you a moment to steel your confidence, then you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers.

The kiss was clumsy and uncertain, but it managed to be good nonetheless. When you broke apart again, you were giggling giddily.

“Perhaps you need practice,” Naerie said, a faint smile playing with her mouth.

“I’ll help,” Terraso declared. He pressed a sloppy kiss to the corner of your mouth. Naerie laughed, easing him off of you and into bed. His tail wrapped around your leg insistently, though, and there was no way you would be able to pry it off.

“I suppose we’re staying up here tonight,” Naerie said. Terraso nuzzled into your side with a happy sigh. Naerie smiled. “He’s happy, at least.”

“I’m happy too,” you said. Naerie looked up at you, eyes soft with affection.

“Yes. I am too.”

#exophilia #monster lover #mermay #mermaid #alien #merman #mermay2021 #alien lover #polyamory

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sarcasmandships · 3 years

Text

honey and glass ~ spencer reid

i am in love with spencer reid but he only has eyes for jennifer jareau

spencer reid x reader angst + hurt/comfort (sorta, it’s all in first person but with no names/no specific descrptions)

song fic inspired by ‘honey and glass’ by peyton cardoza

word count: 4.8k

disclaimer: i do not ship jeid or think they had any chemistry but it’s a good opportunity for angst x

you know those kinds of girls who look like they're made of honey and glass like sticky sweet ash

it’s a summers night in california and i’m on the beach at sunset.

the sand is rough under my toes and a warm, gentle breeze blows a strand of my hair across my face; he lifts his hand to brush it away. tucking it behind my ear he stares down at me and the sun hits his face at a perfect angle, illuminating his hazel eyes like pools of honey. he leans in and i-

“ow!” i yelp, as morgan launches the volleyball at my head, “what was that for?”

“come and play,” he laughs, waving me over to where he stands with emily and hotch.

i shake my head, “no, i don’t feel like it,” i mumble, massaging my left temple where the ball bounced off my skull.

morgan rolls his eyes and jogs past where i’m sitting to collect the ball, “what’s up with you then?” he teases.

i shrug, “nothing. I’m just tired,” i say feigning an unconvincing yawn, “ask one of them to play.”

i motion with my head towards spencer and jj, they’re down by the edge of the waves and she throws her head back and laughs at something he says. her sheets of blonde hair ripple through the wind and he looks at her in pure awe and amazement as she giggles at something he said.

“nah, don’t wanna interrupt the kid when he’s trying to make a move,” morgan shrugs, “come play with us, we need an extra person.”

an extra person.

right.

because what else am i but another body to fill the space?

“i don’t want to,” i say, forcing myself to tear my eyes away from jj and spencer as i stand up, “hotch said the jet is leaving first thing tomorrow, i’m gonna head back to the hotel and get some sleep.”

morgan says something, but i don’t register it as i allow myself one last glance at spencer and jj. she is trying to convince him to paddle in the waves with her, he shakes his head but when she takes his hand in hers i can tell he’s melting inside as he follows her into the water.

and i just know that he’d follow her so far out to sea that his head was underwater as long as she kept their hands intertwined.

i turn away from morgan so he doesn’t see the tears burning in my eyes.

and you can't get the taste off your tongue burnt sugar and a little bit of rum

we’re in a dimly lit bar somewhere.

hotch left hours ago, he wanted to take advantage of one of the rare nights he would be there to read jack a bedtime story.

rossi is at a table in the corner, sitting with a woman who has not-so-subtly draped her leg over him.

derek is out of my line of sight and i’m thankful for that.

emily, garcia, and jj are dancing.

i sit at the table with spencer, he’s drunk.

more tipsy than drunk i think, but he so rarely drinks anything that the sight of him swaying along to the music was an anomaly. i can’t ignore the fact that his eyes are firmly fixed on jj as she dances, and i grip my wine glass so tightly i half expect it to shatter in my hand.

he leans across to me and my heart skips a beat as i inhale the alcohol on his breath, “i’m in love with her, y’know,” he slurs.

“i know, spencer,” i smile sadly and down the rest of my wine.

he doesn’t even notice when i grab my coat from behind him and shuffle towards the door.

and she dances in the rain with her clothes on drenched to the bone never knows when she's all gone, she's the life of the party

spencer and i are watching the big bang theory.

neither of us particularly like it, but there aren’t many channels on our hotel room tv and spencer enjoys the physics references at least. i watch his face light up as a character mentions something about quantum theory that i cant understand, and spencer launches into a rant about the universe and the stars.

i don’t have the knowledge to keep up with him or the heart to tell him to stop so i sit and listen, admiring the way his eyes sparkle and his hands gesticulate when no one interrupts him with a deprecating comment.

we sit there like that for the rest of the night, in our respective twin beds with him telling me the secrets of the universe and me wondering how on earth i will ever get over him.

and deep down I know that nobody flinches when she takes off her clothes

“anything you like?” emily asks me through the dressing room curtain.

“i’m not sure…” i mumble in response, biting down on my lip as i stare at myself in the mirror, “i-i don’t think this is my colour.”

the dress looked so beautiful on the hanger, but now that it’s on my body the fabric bunches up in all the wrong places and i can’t recall a time that i’ve looked worse.

the lights are just washing you out, i tell myself.

you’re having a bad hair day, it would look better with your hair down, i tell myself.

you just need some lipstick, i tell myself.

but when jj announces she has found the perfect dress and i stick my head out of the curtain to see her, i am slapped in the face with the realisation that it isn’t the lighting or my lack of makeup it’s just me.

because jj looks beautiful as always, her dress hugs her waist and the skirt fans out around her as emily demands she gives us a spin. she isn’t wearing makeup, her hair is in a ponytail too, the lights don’t wash her out because she is radiant and flawless, and the lights aren’t the problem.

i am.

i cry in my car as i drive home from the mall, and when i get home i tear everything out of my fridge and fling it into the trashcan. i vow to go to the store and stock up on salad and chicken.

i go to the store but i don’t buy salad.

and I wonder what it's like to be one of those girls to sit in the sun and look at the world and never think, "wow, am i enough?" ‘cause life is easy when you know that you're the main character

i’m in hotch’s office as he grills me about a stupid mistake i made in the field. i can hardly focus on his words as i shrink back in the chair, counting all the reasons that i don’t deserve to be in this job.

i’m not as smart or fast or strong as the others. i don’t have an eidetic memory or hacker skills and i can’t even maintain myself as a solid average agent because i keep fucking up.

“i’m not going to write you up,” he says, and my heart soars a little in my chest, “but i need you to understand that if you do something like that again i won’t have any choice, you were lucky no one got hurt today.”

i nod silently and blink back the tears that threaten to spill over.

“go home, get some rest,” he says and i don’t hang around for a second longer, darting out of his office i crash headfirst into a tall frame.

“wow, slow down,” he chuckles, resting a hand on my shoulder to steady me.

“spencer,” i gasp, looking up at his sympathetic smile, “what are you still doing here? we landed hours ago….”

he shrugs, “i waited for you.”

my heart skips a beat.

“you didn’t have to do that.”

he shakes his head, “you’re my best friend, i wanted to. plus i thought you might need someone after being in there with hotch.”

i swallow and offer him a slightly forced smile.

best friend.

“thanks, spence, that means a lot.”

he looks at me quizzically.

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing, just only jj calls me spence…anyways” he holds out his arm for me, “shall we go?”

i have to restrain myself from seizing his arm, and settle for tentatively wrapping my own around it, “thanks spencer…you’re such a good friend.”

he smiles down at me and its almost enough to melt away the icy feeling in my heart as i call him a friend. the coldness in my chest in my chest is a feeling i’ve grown accustomed to but when i’m with him everything is warm and bright again.

he feels like yellow.

and i feel like maybe i am enough.

and I'm sitting here thinking this is not fair

i feel like blue.

i’m alone in my apartment flicking through tv channels, trying to find something that isn’t a medical or crime drama. because after my day at work i can’t look at any more blood or dead bodies, even if its as fake as the pep in my voice when jj calls to ask if i’m okay.

“hotch grilled you pretty bad, huh? you sure you’re okay?”

“yeah, spence – spencer – waited for me and we went to get milkshakes after.”

“aww that’s so nice, you know i think he has a soft spot for you,” she teases.

something acidic bubbles in my throat, but i can’t tell her that i know she’s wrong because he spent half the night telling me how much he loves her. i have to gather the strength to respond without the venom in my heart poisoning my voice.

“oh, i don’t think so,” i laugh, “anyways, i should go – my movie is about to start.”

jj tells me to have a good night before she hangs up, and i switch off the tv. at this time there’s noting but romcoms and i don’t want to sit through hours of pining when its on replay every day at the office.

i watch my own reflection in the blank tv screen as sobs wrack my body.

but her smile makes it hard to be mad it's not her fault that I'm so fucking sad

jj holds me in her arms as i cry into her chest, “it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay,” she coos, rubbing soft circles on my back.

i sniffle against her and i just know that my eyes are puffy and red but i can’t switch off the floods of tears that fall from them.

“do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” she asks.

i shake my head against her because how could i tell her?

how could I tell her that the man i love is in love with her?

and that i want to resent her for it but i can’t because she’s such a good fucking friend that she’s sitting here with me, unknowingly wiping the tears that i can’t stop shedding because i can’t be her.

she gives me one of those heart warming smiles that could bring peace to a dying man, and in that moment i am reminded again of why he loves her. there are worse people to love, i suppose. if spencer is going to cut out his heart and give it to someone it might as well be someone like her.

but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

and i hate myself for the part of me that hates her. she’s done nothing wrong. it’s not her fault that that spencer loves her, and its not her fault that she doesn’t realise.

so I'll sit here and look at these girls in the sun dancing in the rain and just having their fun

i hate alaska.

my teeth chatter as we trudge through the snow filled field, and i pull the cuffs of my coat over my glove cladded hands. i hate the cold. i hate alaska. i hate the serial killer who dragged us all out here. i hate the impending snowstorm that was keeping the jet grounded for another night.

“should we even be out here?” i groan, “i mean if it’s not safe for the plane, then surely its not safe for us.”

“we aren’t 50,000 feet up in the sky though,” morgan says and i roll my eyes at him.

“it’s cold enough to make me feel like we are,” i huff.

spencer nods sympathetically at me, “i don’t like the cold either, not much snow in vegas.”

“i think we should have two behavioural analysis units,” i begin, “one to catch serial killers in cold climates, and the other in hot ones.”

he laughs, “i’d like that, but i think it’d just be us and garcia on the hot team.”

“we’d get by.”

he’s grinning at me, his messy brown curls are squashed down under his bobble hat but a few of them still manage to peak out. he’s wearing a multicoloured striped scarf and mismatched gloves.

a snowflake lands on his eyelash and i reach out to brush it off.

“thanks.”

“anytime.”

morgan launches a snowball at us, and it hits me in the back of the head, “hey! what is it with you and throwing things?” i snap.

morgan roars with laughter.

“not funny derek!”

he resumes his snowball fight with emily and jj and i draw my arms across my chest. i watch as they prance about in the snow, falling to avoid the snowballs launched by the others and laughing when they get hit. the sun is just starting to set, and it’s rays catch jj’s hair at the perfect angle, bouncing off the golden blonde strands as she dances around morgan. her and emily have joined forces to pelt him with snowballs.

i look up at spencer to see him starting at her in awe. his nose and cheeks are flushed from the cold, and the sun reflects against his own face, illuminating his eyes. they’re beautiful. like honey and glass.

“guys! come join us!” jj calls.

i shake my head, “there’s not enough money in the world.”

she pouts at me, “spence, please,” she says sweetly and before i know it he’s by her side and scooping up snow.

i watch from the side-lines.

spencer roars with laughter when emily hits morgan square in the face with a snowball, he wraps an arm around jj as she nearly collapses from laughter, something twinges in my stomach.

but he looks so happy, and that melts my glacier heart slightly.

maybe alaska wasn’t so bad after all.

and maybe one day, i can forget the past and be one of those girls of honey and glass

“nice to meet you, agent,” agent fitz says, holding out his hand, “we’ve heard good things about you up in the new york office.”

“really?” i say, shaking his hand and i can’t fight the smile that creeps across my face.

“really. give me a call if you ever fancy a change of scenery.”

“i’ll keep that in mind, agent fitz,” i give him a nod and a smile as he walks away.

new york was cold in the winter, but it didn’t seem like the worst place in the world.

but I think that it's hard for people to see that I love all these girls, and honestly it doesn't matter what you look like or how much you weigh

i wondered once how i’d ever get over my love for spencer reid, and now as he sits and sobs on my couch i realise that i don’t want to. it hurts me to love him, and something stabs my heart every time i catch him staring at her, but he deserves someone to love him like he loves her.

“i guess i’m just starting to realise that she’ll never love me back, and i don’t know why or what’s wrong with me,” he says and looks up at me, his eyes filled with tears and his face blotchy and red.

“there’s nothing wrong with you,” i say, wrapping an arm around him and wiping his tears, “sometimes the people you love just don’t love you back, but that’s not a reflection of you or your self-worth,” i reiterate to him the mantra i say in my mirror every morning.

he whimpers and my heart breaks for him.

“it doesn’t feel that way, it feels like i’m dying inside every time she talks about him or tells me about their dates, and i try to be a good friend but-”

his voice cracks and another sob escapes his chest and i tighten my grip around him; heartbreak doesn’t seem to get easier with age, because here we are, two fbi agents in our late twenties crying over our crushes like we are in junior high.

because before i know it the tears are flowing down my face faster than his and when he breaks away from our embrace to ask me why i’m crying, i can’t tell him it’s because i am feeling everything he is.

“i just don’t like seeing you like this,” is all i can muster up.

it's just that these girls know they're okay there's a beauty in knowing your place in the world in loving yourself and knowing your worth

“hey!” spencer greets me as he steps into the elevator with me.

“hi,” i mumble back, taking another sip of coffee from my travel cup.

we’ve been called in on a case, but i’ve barely had any sleep and i’m struggling to keep my eyes open.

“you look tired, are you okay?”

you look tired.

so the bags under my eyes were obvious then.

“yeah,” i say, swallowing the lump in my throat, “just a late night, y’know.”

“oh…oh! is that your way of saying your date went well?” he says with a coy grin.

“what?”

oh! something clicks in my brain and i understand what he means.

“no! not like that no…actually it didn’t go well at all, he turned out to be a total misogynistic creep,” i say with a bitter laugh.

“oh, i’m sorry….”

i shrug and take another swig of coffee, “it’s okay, you didn’t know. to be honest i’ll probably end up calling him again anyways.”

spencer stares at me, confused, “why would you do that?”

“well, i don’t exactly have guys falling over themselves for me, do i?”

spencer frowns and i can see his brain working overtime behind his eyes, “so you’re just going to settle for less than you deserve?”

“i don’t have many other options do i?”

he reaches out an arm to place a comforting hand on my shoulder, “don’t worry, you’ll find the right guy for you soon. it’s only a matter of time, you’re worth more than a misogynistic creep,” he squeezes my shoulder and before i know it we’ve already reached our floor and he’s gone.

you’ll meet the right guy for you soon.

what if i already have?

you don't have to be perfect or never get sad that's not what it means to be honey and glass

it’s late and i sit at my desk, sorting through piles of paperwork.

my eyes blur as i enter the gruesome details of our latest case, from fatigue or tears i can’t tell. i think emily and hotch are still hanging around the office somewhere, but the others had gone to dinner as soon as we landed, promising that they would do their paperwork tomorrow.

i knew i would have no appetite sitting across a table from spencer and jj so i had sat silently in the back of the suv as hotch drove us back to the office.

a singular tear rolls down my cheek and splatters on my page, smudging the not-quite-dry-yet ink. i let out a shaky breath and wipe my eyes, i don’t know why i’m crying really.

no one had necessarily done anything wrong. only when we were in the field and the unsub had detonated the bomb, spencer chose to push jj out of the way instead of me. i was lucky that one of the s.w.a.t agents had grabbed my arm in time and pulled me back to safety.

it had been hours and my ears were still ringing from the explosion.

maybe spencer thought he was closer to jj, that he had a better chance of saving her, we are trained to make difficult choices based on survival odds, i told myself.

only spencer hadn’t been closer to jj, and she was surrounded by three s.w.a.t agents whilst i only had one next to me. but no one had really done anything wrong, no one died, no one even broke a bone. and it pains me to admit to myself but had i been in spencer’s position and had to chose between saving him or morgan, i know that would pull spencer out of the way every single time.

i jump as emily creeps up behind me, “hey, you okay?”

i don’t even try and disguise my puffy, red eyes or tear tracks as i look up at her, “no. but i think that’s okay.”

and everyone has their highs and their lows the nights you spend crying, believe me, I know

it’s roslyn’s birthday.

i don’t think anyone else in the team knows because they keep exchanging looks whenever jj snaps at one of them and i can see the annoyance in their eyes.

when jj barks at spencer and snaps her pencil within the space of five minutes i drag her into a storage closet and wrap my arms around her.

“shhh,” i say soothingly, “it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.”

jj shakes her head, “i don’t think so, i thought this day would get easier with time but it’s just getting worse,” she sniffles.

i stroke her hair, “i know, i know its horrible and you deserve to cry as much as you want to. but you are so strong, and i know you can get through this-”

“i’m not,” jj shakes her head, “i’m not strong or brave or anything that you all think i am, i’m not like you I-”

“like me?” i question.

“you always hold yourself together, whenever there’s a case with a kid i’m falling to pieces but you keep it together. i mean i’m the one crying in a storage closet….”

i stare at her in disbelief, because jj is the strongest woman i know and i don’t understand how she can’t see that.

“i don’t have a sister who killed herself jj,” i say slowly, “you have survived 100% of the bad things that have happened to you because you’re a fighter, that makes you strong.”

she shakes her head and clings to me, “but i’ve lost pieces of myself, i’m not the same person i could’ve been if life had been kinder to me and that makes me sad. my sister is dead and that makes me sad, everyone thinks i’m this strong and perfect person and that makes me feel guilty because i can’t be that person.”

in a turn of events, she is crying into my chest, her hair is greasy, and her mascara runs and i realise that my best friend was never truly on the pedestal i placed her on. and i realise i am part of the problem, treating jj like she is the be all and all of perfection and unattainablity when i should just be treating her like a friend.

spencer loves her and that kills me but it’s not what’s important right now. i’ve spent too long inside my own head, struggling to view her as my best friend or the other woman but now i see that she is someone that needs my help.

i know what it’s like to cry myself to sleep so i don’t want jj to go through something like that alone. so i vow there and then, to push my own feelings aside and be whatever she needs me to be.

i don't want to be these girls for beauty or fame but for the confidence they have in their own damn name

“smile!” garcia says as she appears with a camera.

emily, jj, and morgan turn to face her and pose but i duck out of the frame. garcia pouts and morgan grabs onto my forearm to pull me back into shot. i wish that i had the self-confidence to let him, to fall in next to him and make a silly pose at the camera and not worry if my hair was sitting nicely or if i was breathing in enough.

“come on! i need pictures for my scrapbook and you’ve been dodging me all night!” she whines.

i stare down at my feet, “garcia i’m not photoshoot ready like these guys,” i say, trying to make my voice light and floaty but it just sounds like im choking back tears.

“come on, just one picture,” jj says kindly, waving for me to come and stand next to her.

i shake my head again and wring my hands. the last thing i need is another photograph of jj and i to compare myself to every time i’m feeling extra low and self-destructive.

i try and remember the vow i made, to be there for my friend despite my own feelings. but she isn’t sad anymore, she’s happy and smiling and drinking wine, me squeezing in between her and emily for a stupid photograph isn’t going to make or break her.

it’s just a stupid photograph.

“no thanks,” i choke, “i’m going to get another drink,” i scurry away to the kitchen before anyone can object.

i shut the door quickly behind me and press my back up against it, taking a deep breath. i can’t quite believe i was successful in escaping garcia again.

“are you avoid garcia and her camera too?”

“spencer!” i laugh shrilly, “i didn’t even see you there.”

“yeah, i’ve been hiding in here for a half hour,” he smiles sadly, “i hate having my picture taken, especially next to morgan. he makes me look even lankier if possible.”

i frown, spencer had no reason to feel insecure.

“why don’t we get garcia to take a picture of just us two?” i suggest nervously, “you won’t have any reason to feel insecure next to me….”

he looks at me quizzically, “what do you mean?”

i wring my hands again, “just that you’ll automatically look even better if i’m next to you…cos’ i’m…well y’know,” i say awkwardly motioning to my face and body.

he cocks his head to the side, “are you trying to tell me you think you’re ugly, so i’ll look better by comparison?”

i shrug.

“well, i think you look beautiful.”

so I'll sit here and look at these girls in the sun dancing in the rain and just having their fun

we’re on the plane journey home.

spencer and jj sit next to each other, their arms pressed together as they share the arm rest. spencer is reading a book; his eyes scan down the pages at lightening speed and i know he’ll be finished soon.

i am on the opposite side of the plane, i sit by myself, i like the space.

i keep my eye on them throughout the flight; just as i predicted, it doesn’t take long for spencer to finish his book and he places it down on the table in front of him. jj picks it up and teases him for the long-winded title, i don’t catch what she says, something about astrophysics.

he starts to ramble, and she interrupts him with another teasing remark, he flushes when she gently nudges his chest. i turn my head to stare out of the window, biting my lip.

they aren’t even doing anything, jj is just being friendly. and i still can’t handle it. i lie my head back against the headrest as i gaze out of the window, admiring the new york skyline as it fades into the distance.

a nervous chuckle from spencer snaps me out of my trance, and i look back over to see him and jj giggling secretively as she whispers something into his ear.

“where are you going?” emily grumbles, she’s half asleep with her legs splayed out across two chairs when i accidently bump her foot.

“bathroom,” i say quietly with a forced smile as i shuffle past jj and spencer, my heart seizing in my chest as she teases him about how long his hair is getting, brushing her hand through the curls.

i’m already silently sobbing in the bathroom so i miss the pitiful look that emily and morgan exchange.

and I know it doesn't make sense to forget the past but I promise, one day, you'll be honey and glass

“agent fitz?” i say, clutching my phone tight in my hand.

“ahh, i’ve been wondering when i’d be hearing from you.”

i laugh quietly, “yes, well i’ve been thinking about what you said, and i think i could do with that change of scenery now.”

i wrote this in a couple hours and didnt proof read so apologies for an errors :))

part 2

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #jennifer jareau #jj #emily prentiss #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #David Rossi #Penelope garcia #the bau #angst #hurt and comfort #spencer reid imagine hurt

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andilovetowrite · 3 years

Text

Initial Shyness(P.P x Reader)

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Confessions are cute, right? Especially when you have been waiting for years to say it out loud. But what happens when the initial shyness wears off? And we all know Peter isn’t as innocent as he seems ;)

Warnings: Nothing but some unending fluff. Lots of Peter rambling and awkward kisses :)

Based on a request, you can find it here!

Here is my Masterlist in case you want to find more of my work :)

“C’mon, you can do it!” hissed MJ from beside you. She pushed you toward’s Peter’s door, making you stumble. Still, you tried to hold back against MJ, who you realized, was freakishly strong.

“I can’t! Nope. No way.” You shook your head, crossing your arms. MJ sighed, probably too tired for your crap.

“Oh come on Y/N! I cannot hear another word about Peter again.”, she said, looking too serious.

“But-”

“Not one more word”

“I-”

“So what you are going to do is go into his room, go up to him, confess your feeling, and then kiss him.” She looked at you expectantly. “Am I clear?”

“Uh- just one component you are missing out on….I don’t have the balls to tell Peter I like him!”

MJ rolled her eyes, coming to stand next to you. “Yes, you don’t. And that’s why, I am really really sorry for what I am going to do next.” You didn’t even have time to figure out what she meant before you were pushed into Peter’s room harshly by Ned and MJ. As soon as most of you was inside, they shut the door behind you and you heard the door lock behind you.

“Oh COME ON!”, you said, trying to open the door.

“You know what to do!”, MJ said back, her voice muffled. You sighed, turning around to see Peter looking at you, a slight smile on his face. Oh, and what an amazing smile he had. His eyes crinkled, and small dimples showed up on his face. His pearly whites showed through his pink lips that you have dreame-

“Hey Y/N...what’s up?” Peter asked, snapping you out of your Peter-sized daydream.

“Huh-uh, so um- MJ just wanted some-uh alone time with- with uh Ned. Yeah”, you said, trying to think of anything other than the fact that you had a gigantic crush on your best friend.

Peter’s eyebrows scrunched up, confused. “Why would she want to talk to Ned?”

“Uh-um wanting to know something about uh-English…”

“Okay”, Peter said, drawing out the word. You could see he didn’t believe you so you did the most logical thing. A logical course of action that anybody in your situation would do. Lie.

“Well, she actually wanted me to show you something, um-on the roof”, you said, biting your lip, trying to figure out what to do once you got on the roof.

“Alright, let’s go!”, Peter said quickly, holding his hand out to you. You grabbed it, feeling the warmth seep into your body and make it’s way up to your cheeks. You held on, knowing that this would be the last time if Peter didn’t reciprocate your feelings.

Jumping out the window, you let out a small yelp as Peter grabbed your waist, holding onto you tight as he pulled you two to the rooftop. Landing onto the ground, you held on for dear life, looking at Peter.

“Give me a warning next time! I thought you were going to chuck me out the window…”

“Oh please, then who would I have to annoy all the time?”, he asked teasingly. You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding in.

“Well, you would lose your best friend…”

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t see the way Peter’s face contorted into a grimace as he looked down.

“Yeah, but not only my best friend but the coolest person in Queens!” You cracked a smile, a red tint making its way up to your neck as you heard him speak. “I mean, you are so damn smart and pretty...Not to mention, so badass. I mean, I saw how you elbowed Flash in the-”

“Okay, let’s not relive it” You interjected. Peter smiled at that, walking both of you over to the other side of the roof. “Where are we going?”, you asked, confused.

“Uh, so I just wanted to-uh. Just come and see this”, Peter said, scratching his head slightly. Not knowing what to do, you just followed him, hoping you would see what he was talking about. And you weren’t expecting this.

A plush rose blanket spread out across half of the roof, with rose petals thrown here and there. In the middle of it was a small picnic box, with food sticking out of it. You could see some books stacked in the corner and a couple pillows as well. The light reflected off the buildings around you, giving the entire space an orangish-pinkish glow. You were so engrossed in the spread, you didn’t even notice Peter shakily taking out a small bouquet of roses from behind him.

“Peter, wha-what is this?”, you asked, shocked.

Bringing out the roses, he held it out to you, a blush the same color as the flowers making it’s way up to both of your cheeks. “I-um, heard what you and uh MJ were talking about a-a couple um days ago. So-I uh decided to ask Mr Stark to help me out with thi-”

“Wait a second. Tony Stark helped you out with this?!”, you asked, shocked at why your dad would help Peter out with this small thing. I mean, it-he shouldn’t care so much about Peter’s best friend, right?

“Yeah-uh, so I um set this out for you, and asked MJ to help me get you in my roo-”

“MJ has been in on this?”, you asked, suddenly remembering how she and Peter had been talking discreetly a few days ago.

Peter just nodded, looking down as a dopey smile made it’s way to his face. You cleared your throat, trying to figure out what was happening. You weren’t dumb, but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions to quickly.

“Why-why would yo-is this-uh”, you tried to speak, with little success. You could feel you face heat up in embarrassment, so you just stared at the flowers in Peter’s hands.

“I-uh really, um like you Y/N. Like more than a-a friend. And much more than a best friend. I know yo-you may not like me back, but I couldn’t keep it in any longe-”

You know it’s rude to interrupt someone when they are speaking. But you couldn’t hear anyother word come out of his mouth, because otherwise you would’ve melted. So you did the next best thing. You kissed him. Hard.

His words got caught in his throat as his lips met yours. And for a second you were worried you went too far, pulling back. But as soon as he felt you doing that, his hands went to your hair, pulling you flush against him, kissing you back with fevour.

You wish you could’ve stopped time. Right there. During a beautiful sunset, on the roof surrounded by rose petals, and with Peter in your arms. And in your mouth. But sadly, you needed air to breathe, so you pulled away, probably looking like a fish straight out of the water. Opening your eyes, you could see Peter’s face. His pupils were dilated and his entire face was a pink hue. His lips were plump and red, but pulled up in a lovesick smile.

You knew you had the exact same expression on your face. Smiling softly, you looked at Peter, and at the same time, you both said.

“I really like you”

Giggling, you hesitantly took the crushed flowers from Peter, breathing them in.

“They got squashed”, Peter said, running his hands over the petals.

You shrugged, not caring. “Well, it wasn’t only your fault. I think it was a two-person thing..”, you said cheekily, smirking at Peter.

He laughed, throwing his arms over you and pulling you in for a hug. You breathed in his signature scent and melted against him, your heart full. It would’ve been perfect if not for the eruption of clapping and whistles from behind you.

“Wha-”

“GOOD JOB PETE!”, MJ yelled, running to the both of you, Ned and May close behind. Crashing into you, you laughed as she looked at Peter. “Better take care of her, got it?”

Peter nodded, kissing my cheek. And just as he did that, a flash went off fro next to you. “Nice job Underoos. Watch the lips though. Don’t get too close to my daughter.” Tony’s voice went through the air, making you jump.

“Dad?!”, you said, shocked.

“Mr Stark?!”

“Yes yes, I was spying on you. But at least I’m not like Nat and Thor. They have been circling the building for the last 15 minutes.”

Tony said, shrugging as he pointed to the sky, where you could see the two of them waving at you.

“Oh god”, you groaned, throwing your head back. Peter looked at you, white as a ghost, before giving a scared nod at your dad.

“Yes sir, I’ll be very-um-uh good to Y/N. I mea-she is uh so pretty-wait that’s not-uh and smart- but that’s not-,” he stuttered, eyes wide. Helping out the poor boy, you shooed everyone away.

“Bye, dad. Please take Nat and Thor home with you. We’ll be back soon”

“Not later than 11, got it? And remember Peter, hands to yourself.”

“Yes M-Mr Stark”

Giggling, you watched as everyone walked away, leaving you with Peter. “Sorry bout that”

“Oh, it’s fine. I got the girl of my dreams tonight. Nothing could beat that” Blushing you pulled him in for a short kiss, before hugging him tightly.

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

Wish you say that was the end of the story. That you both lived happily ever after. But sadly, with a group of friends and family, privacy was not the best. And you were very sorry to say that you scarred more people than you had hoped to scar in the next few months.

The first victim though was none other than Aunt May. And boy oh boy did she not look at you two for weeks after the incident.

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

Alright! This was really fun to write, and this is such a cute idea, so I kinda want to make this into a series where people walk in on Peter and Y/N, so let’s see where it goes. But the next part will be out in a couple of days once my exams end :) Also, on that note, wish me luck, since I have my math exam tomorrow. Anyway, until next time!

Taglist: @a--1--1--3 @idkatee @eternalscribblesforthesoul @loudbluepancake @poisondevotion @scram1326 @t-hollanderr @305weasley @starknik22 @marvelfansworld @lou-la-lou @lomlparker @marvelfansworld @wowitsel @vanteguccir @fullcheesecakeengineer @ifyouknewhowmiserylovedme @ladykxxx08

#peter parker x bestfriend reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader imagine #peter parker #peter parker angst #dad!tony #tony x bucky #natasha romanoff #tony stark #thor #may #mj #confessions #fluff #requested

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angeli-marco-writes · 3 years

Text

Sam Holland - Don't Tell

A/N & WC - This is not meant to glorify or condone adultery in any way. I do not know Sam, nor do I claim to, this is a work of fiction. This was written before Sam posted about a new girlfriend: no disrespect is meant towards her. I do not believe Sam would do this: it is fictitious. 3.5k.

Warnings - Adultery, explicit smut, unprotected sex, swearing, reader is the other woman, swearing, brief allusions to SA. 18+.

Summary - When Sam booty calls you, you can't deny him, but will sexual satisfaction be enough? Or will you always want from him what you know you can't have?

THIS WASN’T HOW YOU’D PLANNED to spend your Saturday afternoon, but Sam called, and who were you to deny him?

‘Come over at 3.’ He texted you. ‘She’s leaving then.’

No kisses, no emojis, no frills, no sign off, nothing. You’re just a nameless number in his phone. You knew what it meant. You’ve done it plenty of times before, so you know the drill, it’s just not exactly pleasant.

With ample time, you left your house, your new place only a couple of streets over from the Holland household, and you walked as inconspicuously as possible. Your coat wrapped tightly around you, you refused to make eye contact with anyone on the whole walk there.

You know the drill so well by now that you know not to stick to the front of the house, but instead to head around the back—straight into his bedroom window—via the bins. Theoretically, with no one home and Sam in the living room, you could walk in the front door, but his room is safest since she has always refused to enter—’just in case.’

Your heart thuds against your chest while you hold your breath, praying not to be heard downstairs the second your feet land on his floor. You press yourself flat against the wall behind Sam’s door, lips pursed and eyes squeezed shut, every muscle in your body clenched to the maximum. You’ve trained yourself to stay so quiet that the only sounds are your pounding, racing heart and the blood rushing in your ears.

Thankfully, before cramp can override you, you hear the words that give you the all clear.

“Bye, love!” he calls down the driveway, followed by a half hearted air kiss, a deafening crunching on the gravel driveway, and the front door at last clicking shut.

Your body finally relaxes, limbs falling loosely around you while you release one of the longest held breaths you’ve ever had.

You creak open Sam’s bedroom door, ready for him to meet you, and shrug your coat off, throwing it on the floor alongside your converse when you hear him coming upstairs. He gets like this, heavy steps and heaved breaths like they’re a strain on his body, and it usually means he’s extra horny.

“What took so long, lover boy?” you tease, standing scantily clad in his door frame, leaning against the painted wood.

His eyes darken with lust as he approaches you, his shadow from the landing already overpowering.

This isn’t like any sex or ‘relationship’ you’ve ever been in before. It’s risky, and that risk makes it so much hotter. Always leaving the door open just a crack so that the two of you could be found only by those closest to Sam, the chance of being caught together in the street on the off chance you go for drinks; after all, your reputation precedes you. But it’s the adulterous element of your relationship that makes it so fun. The fact that it’s usually after his girlfriend leaves that you’re called over to relieve his not-so-little ‘problem’, the little marks you trail across the hidden parts of his body, occasionally being risky enough to plant one on the juncture of his neck and shoulder just to test the waters.

After being together for over two years, she still refuses to do anything with him. Of course you respect such a thing: if she wants to wait till marriage and is able to resist Sam for that long, props to her. It’s just not always ideal for all party members. Sure, they’ve kissed, a little groping, but by this point, with how little Sam's lass has done with him, he’s immensely riled up.

He really likes his girlfriend, of course he does, and he’s spoken to her about this time and time again, asking why they couldn’t just do something more than a PG-12 touching session. She simply shook her head and smiled every time, “I’m saving myself for marriage, Sammy.” This infuriated him hugely. He’s been with a girl or two (or ten) before her, so is very expectant, but being twenty-two has its burdens. He isn’t anywhere near ready for marriage, but is increasingly sexually frustrated. So after an insane year of getting by with absolutely no action apart from the rare lap dance and make out, he knew he had to do something besides use his own hand to relieve the tension that was making him a complete prick.

He respects his girlfriend enough not to pressure her. Sam isn’t a bad person and so he isn’t going to coerce his girlfriend into sex she doesn’t want, seeing it as utterly immoral, so he did the only thing he could think of, and turned to the girl next door, quite literally. Not that it’s any more moral, but here you are.

As soon as he reaches you, the smirk etched upon his face is perfect, just what you expect, and his hands grip your waist tightly.

“You think you’re so cheeky,” he smirks, and his lips crash onto yours the next moment, his hands spanning your sides. His affection halts as he smacks the side of your ass. “I’ll show you cheeky.”

You don’t let him get another word in before you’re kissing him again, furiously this time, hooking one leg around his waist as the other flies to his neck, your clasp anything but gentle.

You’ve known of the Holland family for a while, living a street away, going to school with the boys and your mother having ‘neighbourhood meetings’ with the family. You, however, had had nothing to do with them, never getting involved in their ordeals, not really.

Keeping a resolutely ‘good girl’ demeanour all through school was difficult, especially when you wanted to rebel so earnestly. The first step was house parties, beginning when you were in year ten, everyone getting shit-faced and ending up giving sloppy hand-jobs in someone’s downstairs loo. That much you weren’t a fan of, so you waited until the end of school, A-Levels secured to be who you wanted to be. Trench coats, docs and chucks at every turn, short shorts and fishnets. Lots of hair dye came next, followed by a ‘scandalous’ collection of piercings, and a significant body count for someone your age, or so conservative old women perceived. Fuck them, your body your choice.

Times changed in a year and a half, though not that much. Mid way through your rebellion, you got a good job, your own place, and became a call girl, essentially. Sam’s call girl only, considering your regrettable soft spot for him.

You couldn’t care less though, even though it’s adulterous, Sam is incredible in bed. He frequently tells you the same.

“I think you’re rubbing off on me,” he murmurs, “even when she was kissing me I could only think of you.” His lips are inches from yours with your breath mingling in the confined space of his doorway as you pant.

He hasn’t touched you yet, or even moved you to the bed. You feel yourself blush a little, scared fractionally by what he’s saying but mostly flattered. At least that’s what you’re telling yourself. It makes you feel like your old self is creeping in again, the girl next door that no one fell for.

“I like it when you get all shy on me, really naïve, shows me you’re a human and not just a sex goddess. My sex goddess.”

You pull his lips to yours with a burning passion, desperate to feel him up against you. Your palms settle this time on Sam's cheeks, angling his face to get the most out of the kiss, and your hold remains resolute so that he can’t pull away easily. This isn’t your dominance though, simply a ploy to hide your flushed cheeks from his prying eyes, the blush that’s been caused by his kind words. You want to keep him here long enough that you can claim the blush is from the breathlessness and the actions of his tongue slipping inside your mouth with an urgency you haven’t felt with him for a while. Is this the day that changes everything?

He backs you to the bed, walking unsteadily, and pushes you down onto the springy mattress. It pitches beneath you as he joins you, sitting by your side, his hand gravitating towards your thigh.

“Hey, what is it?” you ask, a slight hesitant stammer to your words.

“Nothing,” he sulks. “Just dunno how long I can keep doing this.”

His baleful eyes hover over your decolletage, and before you can protest and try to get him to open up about the whole situation, discussing the fact that maybe you should just quit while you’re ahead and come clean (because to be fair, it’s beginning to weight on your conscience too, even though you’ve never met said girlfriend), he kisses you, pinching your nipple through your bra until it forms a pebbled bud.

“Gonna take it all out on you,” he hisses, moving his kisses to your jaw. “All this pent up need from missing your body. God, feel so good beneath me.”

He swings a leg over to straddle your legs, and begins a ferocious attack on your neck with his teeth. You’ll have fun at work tomorrow, trying to hide them from your co-workers, one of them (on a temp basis, at least) being Sam’s twin. Harry cottoned on pretty easy, and won’t say a word, because he doesn’t want to deal with Sam’s temper when he’s been denied sex for too long. He likes Sam’s girlfriend, sure, but she doesn’t compromise on anything and looks down her nose at the lot of them, so he considers it fair play. And besides, with his track record, he really doesn’t have a leg to stand on.

Unwittingly, your hips buck up to meet his, feeling his throbbing need pressing against your pelvis, only for him to draw his body away from you, a bruising kiss being pressed to your lips the next moment. All in a flurry, your top is pulled down, your chest revealed to him.

“Bloody love your tits,” he purrs, a feral grin contorting his freckled face.

He rolls your pert bud between the rough pads of his fingers, palming at the other breast so as not to neglect it, only swapping when you’re beginning to writhe under him. His grin only increases.

“Sam… please.”

He knows what you want when you whine that way, so he sits up on his shins, and lets you tear his shirt open. Button by button, you watch as every inch of his pale chest is bared to you, his happy trail coaxing you lower.

“Get on with it, then,” he warns, clamping a hand around your hair in order to control your movements. He does this a lot, it’s his main power move. “They’re too damn tight now you’re around.”

You can definitely see that, the denim of his jeans pulled taut around his torso, the waistband of his boxers peeking above. He begins to pluck at your nipples again while you fumble with his buckle and zip, eventually tugging both items of clothing down at once. He stands, his lanky frame just a blur of white and freckles as he removes every last item, prowling back to you on the bed.

You, however, have other ideas, tugging him down with a grip on his shoulders until he’s helpless beneath you. In the time he was distracted with shucking his jeans off at last, you peeled your own shirt off and put your bra right. Sam’s a boob man, always has been, and takes great pleasure in fastening and unfastening your bras as much as he can, nestling into your chest for the time you spend together.

Since your last rodeo, you’ve gained some weight, and filled out a tad more, something Sam seems to notice right about now, especially as your chest hovers just inches from his face.

“Well? Are you gonna stare at them all day or take it off?”

This man… this man has the fucking audacity to lick his lips as one hand works on the hooks at the back of your bra, the other skimming the edges of the cups before it falls into his hands and he flings it across the room, knocking something off his dresser.

As soon as it's out of his way, he seems to forget everything apart from you, his eyes mesmerised by your chest, his mouth gaping a little, his eyes lingering on your hardened nipples for perhaps just a moment too long. You sigh to yourself, letting your knees dig into his navy comforter before your fingers wrap around his hand and place it onto your right breast. You know that, if you let him stare long enough, you’ll get nothing done. You need this release as much as he does. He takes the message, though, and begins kneading the flesh with a need you haven’t seen from him before. You even catch a wolfish grin when your face contorts into a silent ‘o’, overcome with pleasure. He tweaks your one nipple, and leans up to capture the other in his kiss-swollen lips, lavishing kisses around the sensitive area. You can’t help your nails leaving faint scratch marks in their wake over his freckled shoulders, tracing the silhouettes beneath his skin of muscle and bone, finding constellations within the freckles until he’s quaking beneath your delicate touch…

“Why’re you being such a tease?” he whines.

He has a point, you’re grinding down on his clothed cock in tandem with his playing with your boobs, your core hovering over his hard member, but it’s only fair with the stimulation he’s offering you. Just to shut him up, in one swift move you pull his boxers down and reach down to grasp him, stroking a couple of times before inching down, swallowing his aching length into your welcoming, warm walls.

Your moans create a heavenly sympathy, even as you stop for a moment to adjust to his size a little more, placing your hands on his pecs before grinding down on him. His hips begin to move, thrusting upwards and into you, finding a satisfying pace in tandem for you both as you ride him like there’s no tomorrow.

“Baby…” he moans, reaching out with his lips puckered to wrap them around your exposed nipple, suckling viciously, hard enough to hurt just a little.

“Stand up,” you command authoritatively, with a softness to your tone despite.

He grows harder inside of you, barely suppressing a groan, but his plan fails from shock when you bend over, clenching the foot of his bed so tightly your knuckles begin to turn white.

Casting a sensual glance over your shoulder, you bat your lashes and coax him the only way you know how, a wiggle of your bum added to help convince him; “Fuck me, Sammy…”

Your gasp is shrill and loud when he enters your craving core from behind, your knees nearly buckling when a stream of expletives falls from his lips once he grabs your hips, settling there. You’re sure to have hand-shaped imprints there tomorrow, but you don’t care, and apparently neither does Sam as he continues to thrust into you at an inhuman pace.

Breathy moans escape your lips as your nails find purchase in the sheets, now crumpled in your clenched fists. The only thing that fills your ears other than skin slapping against skin is the myriad of colourful words spilling from Sam in a groan, right down your ear.

“y/n… please…” he hums nonsensically, his lips finding their way to your shoulder blade and neck, kissing you, suckling.

He’s such a hypocrite: one rule for him, one rule for you, just because he’s got a girlfriend and is too pussy to break up with her even though his needs aren’t being met. For a brief moment, your body being used for his pleasure—and bringing you simultaneous heavenly satisfaction—you’re able to forget the consequences of your fornications.

They slip your mind once again the second one of his rough hands slowly makes its way down your front, finding your clit as he begins to rub harsh circles on it.

“Fuck…” you cry out, only for the heel of that hand to press into your pelvis, the other snaking around to your neck, applying the faintest pressure. Your walls tighten around him at the double stimulation.

His hips begin to move faster, blissful moans filling the room in symphony as you both near your highs, his tip grazing your special spot on every single thrust.

“C’mon,” he purrs in your ear, “can feel how close you are…” the pressure on your engorged pearl becomes a constant, and your body begins to spasm with unbridled pleasure. “Come.”

You do, and fireworks spark behind your eyes, setting off a train reaction in your brain, your walls clenching and your body collapsing, chest first, onto the edge of the bed. You must’ve cried out at some point, but your scream became but a gasp with his hand snug around your throat.

His thrusts slow, and he aids you onto the bed by your waist, but you roll away from him, aware that he hasn’t climaxed yet. He follows you down as your fingers link around his neck, but he’s not satisfied with that—as the smirk playing on his lips, causing dimples in his freckles, tells you—so he hovers above you on his knees. The hairs on his shins grate against the duvet cover so he shifts, but your hands move from his neck to his cheeks, pulling him closer to tangle your tongues together. His erection teases your wet folds while you’re lost in the movements of your mouths, and before you know it, he’s entering you again, and your hands are getting lost in his dark, silky locks, his one hand roughly kneading your breast. His thrusts recommence at a slower pace than before, his heels digging into the mattress as his groans overpower yours in the otherwise silent room.

“Shit… oh my God—” he hisses.

He begins to move faster, so you tug at his hair, revelling in the praises he offers, eliciting various heavy moans from his preoccupied mouth in between kisses. His warm breath and the resverberation of the moan vibrate across your lips, causing your hips to rock further into his, your legs wrapping around his toned torso to give him better access to your eager core. His movements become deeper as your breathing becomes even more escalated with high pitched moans tearing from your throat each time he hits your g-spot so perfectly. The knock-on effect sends him into an even more euphoric state, and before you know it, he’s groaning your name down your ear, and painting your walls white.

“Yes, Sammy…”

Your nails leave scratch marks all over his back from the sheer height of pleasure you’re experiencing, and that seems to be what sent him over the edge, his cum seeping into you as you milk his cock. He throbs inside you, his pelvis hitting you perfectly as he thrusts lazily while emptying himself. With one final press of his long, skilled thumb and digits over your sensitive nipple and a harsh bite to your pulse point just below your ear, the bundle of lust in your stomach becomes undone as you finish once again.

Before you’re fully recovered, he’s pulling out and leaving you empty as you lie together for a moment on opposite sides of the bed, no contact other than your pinky fingers linked and overlapping in between you. Except… despite the pleasure, you’re not satisfied. Not at all. And you know, in your heart, that this can’t happen again.

“Don’t tell anyone, please.”

“As fucking if,” you mumble.

“You ok?” he asks after a moment.

“Yes, just fine,” you snap, and roll off the bed, beginning to ferret around for your clothes.

“y/n, no…” Sam moves to grapple for you, “why are you leaving?”

“Because I’m done being treated like shit by you. Used as your fuck-toy when you’re too much of a pussy to deal with your girlfriend… I’m done, Sam.”

He’s up and off the bed, shucking his jeans on with great force that causes him to trip back onto the bed as you adjust your top and zip your skirt back up.

“y/n!”

“What!” you bellow right back at him.

He shuffles his feet on the carpet, and moves to speak, but his jaw just hangs open like a fish, nothing coming out.

“Yeah, I’m done here, Sam. Don’t booty-call me again.”

A weary voice from behind you calls out, “Sam?”

Shit.

This is bad. This is very bad. But what can you do? You’re the other woman, he’s the one choosing to commit adultery: why is that your problem? He can deal with his (clearly very angry) girlfriend, so livid she’s shaking, once you’re gone.

“Yeah. Your ‘don’t tell’ plan worked real good, Sammy. Karma’s a bitch,” you spit, spinning on my heels and waltzing out the door.

You mean it: you’re done. At least until he breaks up with her and undoubtedly calls back. You want him, there's no question about that, but you want him all to yourself: and that's a secret you won't tell.

#sam holland #sam holland imagine #sam holland x reader #sam holland fic #sam holland angst #sam holland x y/n #sam holland fluff #sam holland x you #sam holland one shot #sam holland smut #sam holland blurb #sam holland x fem reader #sam holland x f reader #samuel holland

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giggles-and-freckles · 3 years

Note

‘drive faster!’ for any of the disaster trio maybe?? : D

“Seatbelt.”

“That’s optional.”

“No, Anakin, it’s not.”

Anakin leaned forward from the back seat and caught Ahsoka’s left ear, away from Obi-Wan. “It’s optional,” he whispered.

She giggled abruptly, but sobered under Obi-Wan’s harsh gaze.

“Sorry,” she squeaked.

“Now, what’s next?”

“Check my mirrors,” she said.

“Are you sure?” Anakin asked from the back. “Like are you absolutely sure, Snips? Because if you forget something as important as checking your mirrors, well…kriffing hell, the galaxy may implode.”

Obi-Wan reeled around from the passenger seat. “I already had to put up with this insolence when I taught you to drive. I shouldn’t be subjected to this all over again!”

“You didn’t teach me anything I didn’t already know, Master,” Anakin said, rolling his eyes and putting his feet on the back of Ahsoka’s seat.

Obi-Wan swatted them down, ignoring Anakin’s sound of protest. “Yes, your podracing experience was exactly what the Council wanted the public to associate with the Order as you ripped through the skies of Coruscant with absolutely no regard–”

“Hey, my podracing experience has gotten us out of quite a few sticky situations, I’ll remind you, Master. Remember when–”

Obi-Wan scoffed. “That was a one time situation, Anakin, and it–”

“Masters?” Ahsoka piped up bravely. Both men’s eyes turned to her. She smiled sheepishly. “I…kinda want to…you know, actually drive…at some point today.”

Obi-Wan and Anakin stared at her for a moment. Obi-Wan was the first to blink.

“Yes. All right.” He shot one more withering glare toward Anakin, then turned around and adjusted his tunic under his seatbelt. “Go on, Ahsoka.”

She checked her mirrors, stifling another laugh when Anakin was sticking his tongue out in her rear mirror. Then–at the sound of Obi-Wan emphatically clearing his throat–she checked them again. He smiled in contentment and gave her a nod.

The speeder revved to life.

It wasn’t difficult to know why Anakin felt so comfortable at any sort of pilot’s seat. She felt in control. Powerful. It wasn’t something she’d felt very often, being a Padawan thrown into the front lines of a war.

“Easy,” Obi-Wan said, as she backed out of the spot. “Now, take it forward around the corner and watch your acceleration.”

Ahsoka followed his instructions, feeling his eyes on her the entire time. She continued driving for a few minutes, waiting for her next direction, but eventually, Obi-Wan sat back in his seat and turned to the front. She chanced a quick glance at him and he whipped his head toward her.

“Eyes on the sky, Padawan.”

Anakin snorted in laughter behind her. “Can’t believe you fell for that one, Snips.”

“Leave her alone, Anakin. She’s doing better than you ever did.”

“I’d like to see her win the Boonta Eve Classic,” Anakin grumbled more to himself than anyone else as he fell back into his seat.

“I’d like to see her live past fourteen,” Obi-Wan bit back. “So quiet in the backseat, please. Don’t make your premature death wish hers.”

Ahsoka continued straight for another few minutes. It was a relatively vacant airway. The lanes weren’t full of the normal rush of Coruscanti commuters, bustling between their homes and workplaces.

“You’re doing well, Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan commended lightly. “Now, we’re going to get up on the express-lane.”

Ahsoka’s eyed widened and she tightened her grip on the wheel. “The…?”

“You’ll be fine,” he said.

She nodded tightly, straightening in her seat.

“Remember, just follow the flow of traffic. It’s not a race. Stay in the far right and don’t worry about anyone else. They have places to be, you do not.”

Anakin grumbled something in the back.

“What?” Ahsoka said, flicking her eyes to the rearview mirror.

“He said you’re the greatest pilot he’s ever scene, Ahsoka. High praise.”

“That’s not–”

Obi-Wan pointed ahead of them. “Take a left here.”

Ahsoka smiled. Anakin had been pretty upset when she’d told him she wanted to go driving with Obi-Wan today, but she assured him it had nothing to do with how many times she had witnessed him crash land. (In reality, it had everything to do with how many times she had watched him crash land.)

He insisted on coming along, for heckling purposes. He was living up to his promise.

“Okay, now–you’re going to merge. If they don’t let you in, just wait your turn. An opening will come.”

Ahsoka nodded, decelerating as she approached the switch-over to the express-lane. Coruscant airways were designed vertically. The slower lanes were closest to the ground, the quickest were the closest to the atmosphere.

She tilted the speeder upwards and waited for a gap.

“Patience,” Obi-Wan said.

“You totally could have made that,” Anakin said.

Ahsoka’s grip tightened as she looked at the onslaught of bikes and speeders barreling toward her, with no space in sight.

“You’re gonna have to be brave, Snips. Put yourself out there.”

“I am brave,” she said, with a determined frown.

“Then, prove it.”

“No,” Obi-Wan said sharply. “Do you want advice from the man who had his license revoked by a police droid? A police droid?” He sighed shakily, clearly remembering a specific incident from Anakin’s early days. She’d have to ask him about it later, when Anakin wasn’t around. One of her favourite things to do was needle embarrassing stories about her Master from his Master. “Your bravery is not dependent on your willingness to kill yourself upon entering the express-way.”

Ahsoka nodded. Waited. And waited some more.

“There haven’t been any openings, Master Kenobi…”

“There have been plenty of openings, Ahsoka,” Anakin whined, throwing his head against the back of his seat.

“Patience,” Obi-Wan repeated.

Three more minutes passed. Several speeders zipped around her. One offensive hand gesture was thrown.

Anakin almost jumped out of the back of the speeder.

“Now,” Obi-Wan said finally.

“Now?” Ahsoka asked, frantically.

“Now!” he repeated, a little louder.

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE, AHSOKA. NOW.”

She hit the acceleration and slipped in between a bike and a cargo speeder, carrying some sort of exotic animal in the back. It bleeted at Ahsoka as the bike laid on it’s horn.

“I did it,” she breathed.

“You did,” Obi-Wan agreed, his voice a bit strained, “but…you have to keep going. You, er–Ahsoka.” A sharp gasp as a speeder swerved around them, narrowly missing the front of their own vehicle.

“Sorry,” she hissed, her knuckles whitening around the wheel.

“Accelerate a bit,” Obi-Wan said. A beat. “Ahsoka. Accelerate.”

Another speeder sped past them, the driver yelling in anger as they did so.

“Why is he so–”

“Because you’re slow, Snips! You’re so insanely slow.”

“I’m being careful!” she snapped back.

“Er, I…” Obi-Wan made a small sound. “I think perhaps you’ve taken that a bit too…seriously. Ahsoka, my dear, please accelerate.”

Anakin snorted sardonically. “If Obi-Wan is saying you’re slow–”

“I never said she was slow–”

“Drive faster!!!!!” Anakin shouted.

Obi-Wan gripped the bottom of his seat with both hands as Ahsoka slammed her foot to the floor, shifting the speeder into top speed. She swerved jerkily to avoid slamming into the back of another speeder on the expressway and barely managed not to clip the back of another.

“Okay,” Obi-Wan managed in a small voice. “Ahsoka, just–” He was cut off as she swung around another speeder.

“This is more like it, Snips!” Anakin sang from the back, laughing loudly. He leaned forward in the speeder gripping the back of both front seats. Obi-Wan shut his eyes.

“Would...” Ahsoka swallowed, barely able to open her eyes as the wind assaulted her face, “would now be a...bad time–to mention I don’t...don’t know how to stop?”

Obi-Wan and Anakin paused, looked at each other, and then looked back at the heavily trafficked express-lane in front of them, dozens of speeders doing their best to clear out of Ahsoka’s way.

“Yes!” they yelled in unison.

#my fic #this one got away from me a bit #ha uh oops?#this is based on my brother and dad teaching me to drive #it was traumatic #so ahsoka can have some pain too #disaster trio #writing prompts #prompts are closed!

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cazimagines · 3 years

Text

Born to be wild - Chapter 2

Synopsis: Joining F1 as one of the first female drivers you knew was going to be a challenge but you weren’t prepared to deal with one particular asshole on the tracks. With the urge to win so strong within each racer, will romance pave the way? Or will it destroy everything?

Word count: 2.3k

Author’s note: I'm going to be focusing on this series for a bit and not writing any one-shots for a little while so expect these updates to come out sooner, plus I'd also like to thank my awesome beta reader for helping edit this 😊

Warnings: Swearing

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The sunset and rose again in what felt like only a few hours for you. The quick passing of time could be attributed to the adrenalin of qualifying, in which you had managed to drive your way to 5th place. Shock rippled through everyone due to this. Not only it is your first F1 qualifying but due to you being a female, you were already exceeding their expectations. It meant everyone was buzzing with curiosity and excitement to see what you might bring to the actual race today.

You were as excited as you were yesterday arriving at the track, but before you could explore the now swarmed with people area, your boss was already waiting for you and with a quick jolt of his head, informed you to get into the garage for debriefing. Arriving you were told, though you were placed 5th the team would still be focusing on Patrick as a priority due to him being the more experienced driver between the two. You’re told about the predicted weather conditions for today, what tires they recommended you to put on the car and mostly which other drivers to watch out for.

After meeting all of the drivers for the proper first time yesterday, already you had quite a good idea of which ones you should watch out for, and as you left the garage to get a quick breath of fresh air, your eyes landed on the one man who made your lips curl down into a sneer. Certainly, a man to watch out for.

Niki Lauda’s team were on the opposite side and he was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, his own frown plastered onto his face. His eyes were fixated on how his team was adding adjustments to his car, and every few seconds he was barking more orders at them for what they should be checking. Displeasure curled up within your chest as you watched how he treated his team with disrespect. He was acting as if he knew more than them when they were doing their job. For a second, as if sensing your eyes upon him, his face snapped over to look at you. Those dark, cocoa eyes felt like he was staring into your soul and due to the uncomfortable feeling that settled within you, making you blush, you quickly looked away.

Sure the man might look charming, even with his overbite. His curled hair complimented his face and the overbite made his cheekbones stick out more in a way that would make you want to run your fingers along them. But for all the niceties of his face, his jackass personality dashed any ideas you might have had about him otherwise. To you, he seemed like an entitled brat and the more time you got to spend away from him, the better.

Unsurprisingly, James Hunt came first in qualifying however a few other drivers came second and third leaving Niki in fourth, right in front of you. This meant in the first few minutes of the race, when everyone was tightly packed together trying to overtake one and other, you would be right beside him. From your first impression of him, you had no doubt if given the chance he wouldn’t hesitate to push you off the track to ensure his space, and the thought of that made you more determined to try and overtake him in this race.

Leaving the garage, you headed into the press tent expecting to be greeted by a few journalists wanting to interview you, but instead, as soon as you took your first step inside you were swarmed with cameras pointing at you. The questions each of them asked you however all followed a similar pattern, they wanted to know everything about what it was like being the first female driver, how you felt racing against all these men, but they also wanted to know how you achieved 5th place in your first time racing for F1 as if you hadn’t been racing for the past few years in F3.

Thankfully Patrick who was finishing up his interview with two journalists spotted your face hidden among the swarm of reporters. He chuckled to himself at your plight before finally deciding to push his way through the crowd to grasp your arm.

“Y/n has answered enough questions, for now, any more you can ask after the race,” he tells them and while they grumbled they slowly moved away to interview a few others. Still holding your arm Patrick pulled you back to your garage into a more private quarter where you wouldn’t be harassed.

“The press can be dicks at times, you’ll learn to get away from them in time,” he mutters to you as he guides you through the busy garage.

“I’m fearful they’ll always be obsessed with me for being the first F1 driver.”

Patrick finally stops pulling you along and tilts his head back and forth in contemplation, “Perhaps for the first year or so, but they’ll move on to something else eventually.”

It was only a few minutes later when you and Patrick were informed it was time to head onto the track to get into your cars. The walk there was nerve-wracking, seeing all these other drivers approaching their cars but you, preparing for the race because it was so normal to them now but you reminded yourself that you were the same as them. You were just as good as them and you had every right to be there, like them and in time you would be as used to it as well.

Your team was there to pass you your helmet, help you into the car and to wish you good luck. Finally sitting down within it, placing your hand upon the steering wheel you felt a sudden surge of power wash over you. This was it. This was your time to prove to everyone who ever doubted you, that they were wrong. At that moment, you had never felt more at home.

“Good luck out on the road today.” a British voice chimes in, and looking to your side you see James Hunt walking past you to his car, giving you a smile and a wave. You nodded your head back to him and gave a slight motion of your hand to tell him thanks.

Niki stormed past you as well, though unlike James made no acknowledgement of your existence. Rather he was paying meticulous attention to what James was doing, making sure his crew fitted his car with the exact same wheels James chose to have. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

The first thing everyone had to do was warm up their tires which involved you driving around the track once in order so that when the actual race started, the tires wouldn’t wear down too quickly. After this, however, it was the waiting that almost killed you. Waiting for that flag to wave to tell you to go.

The beginning of the race was always the most important part. Everyone was cooped together and therefore could easily overtake each other. If you made one mistake that could be it for you, or it could be the making of you. Most crashes in which people died always happened at the start of the race. You had watched so many times on TV how a car hit another and went spiralling into the crash barrier, catching alight. It’s the reason why your parents were so determined for you not to drive, for you might not come back to them alive. But it was a risk you were willing to take to live your dream.

Your hands clutched the steering wheel in anticipation, fingers drumming on the underside of it, a sweat bead rolled down the side of your head as you watched the flag bearer with such strong precision. He held up the flag, and with the ring of a whistle, he started to wave it.

Instantly your foot was on the accelerator, rushing forward in time with everyone else. You maintained your position, preventing anyone from being able to overtake you to take 5th place but now that meant you had to focus on trying to get ahead of the car before you. Niki was only a few inches ahead of you but he kept swerving, preventing you from being able to find a path to get past him. However, you were coming up to your first curve in the track and if Niki went on the underside you might be able to accelerate enough on the outer side of the track to attempt to get past him. It was risky but it was a shot you were willing to take.

As you predicted Niki went to go on the underside, trying to save time to catch up to his next opponent, so you sped up going on the outer ring. It meant you had to go wider but as you accelerated further you were able to come up side to side by Niki.

It was a tight squeeze, both of you heading around the corner at the same time. You could see the glare he shot at you as you came up beside him, a fire within the deepest pits of his eyes and yet as you drew nearer for one horrifying second shared between the both of you in which your eyes flashed with panic, it looked as if your front wheel might bump into him.

Niki, in realising this, quickly slammed on his accelerator as you pulled back using your breaks. He shot forward, back onto the straight road now that you were both past the corner but it left you in his dust, cursing at yourself.

The rest of the race went smoothly, for you at least. You were able to push yourself up to fourth place but Niki has long since overtaken that person as well and was now racing behind James in their little competition to try and get first. Still, the fact that you got fourth place in your first race was a celebration unto itself and so when you crossed the finish line and pulled into your team’s pit all the crew were out there cheering you on.

As soon as you jumped out of the car they were running over to hug you, slap you on the back and congratulate you on getting fourth and you could help but join into the excitement, jumping up and down and cheering along with them. Even when Patrick pulled up he congratulated you, giving you a pat on the back and flashing one of his signature kind smiles, making you feel elated.

There was only one thing that could dampen your mood, one person and of course he would appear. You heard the annoying, callous Austrian voice call out to you and instantly you had to suppress a groan as you turned around to face the man.

“You nearly hit me earlier!”

Niki was charging towards you, his body tensed as he pulled his helmet off, handing it to one of his crew and scowled towards you. His hair was slick and wet with sweat and he still wore his tracksuit showing as soon as he got out of his car he had chosen to find you out, obviously seeking an argument for earlier.

“But I didn’t!”

It almost seemed as if he wouldn’t stop walking towards you for a second. He came to stand so close in front of your face you could smell the sweat reeking off him, “It’s stupid manoeuvres like that kill people!”

“We were fine! I made sure we had lots of space.”

“Two inches!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t realise you were measuring it with a bloody ruler!”

Niki crosses his arms, his lips curled as his nose flared and you’d swear even his breathing suddenly sounded louder. “If I hadn’t taken the quick decision to speed up, potentially damaging my engine we both could have been dead.”

You scoff, amazed he thought he was the one who prevented it, “Of course you would take the credit. If I hadn’t chosen to slow down, letting you pull out again and costing me a place we might have crashed.”

It was Niki’s turn to scoff now as he looked away and then his dark eyes turned to glare at you again. His teeth bared as he prepared to refute you but before he got a chance James had noticed the commotion between the two of you and jogged over.

“Congratulations y/n on getting 4th place! That’s great for your first race,” he then turned on his foot to smile sarcastically at Niki, “Congratulations Niki on almost getting first place.”

“Perhaps if she hadn’t almost run me off course I might have beaten you,” Niki argues, his harsh glare instantly snapping back to you.

“Don’t use her as an excuse for your own idiotic driving. If she had run you off course she would have done the rest of us a world of favour.”

Niki rested his hands upon his hips again and ran his tongue over his lips before spitting out at James, “Fuck you.”

He starts to storm away as James shouted back to him, “No thanks!”

A chuckle came from James’ throat as he turned around to look back at you. “I need to head off to the podium in a few minutes to accept my trophy, but I wanted to come by and invite you to my winning party. Everyone will be there, well apart from Niki of course.”

“No Niki? Sounds like my kind of party then,” you reply, shaking his hand in congrats to him. As soon as he had arrived he left and you turned to look at Niki’s fading figure one last time before heading back to your garage. The less your saw of that asshole the better.

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