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ravenrose18 · 20 days

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Crossbow Love

Chapter 7- The Run

When Daryl wakes in the morning, his body is pressed against her back, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and stiffening. He doesn't recall falling asleep this way. Raven slept still unmoving and had no nightmares, not bothered by him holding her close. Daryl moves away from her gently so as not to wake her. He grabs his shirt off the rack and his pants and heads to the bathroom to deal with the morning drags off herself and takes a shower. Raven slowly wakes up stretches and feels that the bed is empty. She sits up and looks around for Daryl. She gets out of bed and goes upstairs to hear the shower. Daryl has rested his hand on the tiles in the shower, his hand working on himself, aiming to release it. Raven starts making breakfast and makes eggs and some bacon. She wants to make sure they eat and have energy for the run today.

Daryl comes in with a groan, leans his head against the tiles, and stares at the tub for a moment. When he goes in there, he always feels like trash, always ashamed of what he did. After getting out of the water, he wipes himself dry and gets dressed. Raven continued to cook the food once the food was made, she made herself a plate and him a plate. She realizes she left her flannel downstairs but she might as well show her skin and not hide anymore. Daryl walks downstairs and into the kitchen, his hair still damp. Raven looks at him and smiles at how handsome he is, placing his plate on the counter. "Well, good morning Daryl. How did you sleep?" She asks, staring at him, stands at the counter, and starts eating. "Surprisingly well, I haven't slept like this in a long time, how about you?" He asks, smiling slightly, and gets down to his breakfast. Raven smiles and nods. "I slept well, no nightmares, just a restful sleep. We'll have to share a room if we both need a good night's sleep." She says giggling and eating more. She looks outside as the light of the rising sun illuminates her face. "You're already pushing yourself into my bed, huh?" He snaps out laughing under his breath.

Raven blushes and hides her face "Or you could have nightmares and not sleep well. And yes, I know you cuddled with me, Dixon." She says smiling at him "I'm not the cuddling type," He snorts under his breath and finishes his breakfast, "I don't know what you're talking about," He says as the corner of his mouth twists into a smirk, Raven smiles and finishes her food as well and walks over to him and runs her hand over his shoulders as she walks by going upstairs to change. Daryl shakes his head and cleans up after breakfast and then gets ready to run. He takes his backpack, crossbow, and knives behind him. He slips his winged vest over his shoulders. "I'm going outside," He shouts through the house on his way out. Raven smiles and shakes his head. "Alright, I'll be there in a minute." She says

Daryl brings his motorcycle out of the garages, strapping his crossbow and arrows to it. He gets it ready to ride, the people in Alexandria wake up, and he is approached by Denise who smiles wryly. Raven goes downstairs, grabs his knives and crossbow, and leaves the house walking towards Daryl. She feels as she walks in slow motion, walking towards him feeling happy and confident. Daryl looks at you and smiles slightly watching you from behind his hair and barely registering what Denise is saying to him. Raven smiles and blushes and is not about to hide her scars anymore. She walks over to Daryl and smiles. "Are you ready to go?" She asks him. "Yeah," He mutters, "But Denise wants to come with us." He says looking meaningfully at Raven, almost begging her not to. Raven looks at her, then back at him. "It's up to you, Daryl, but we both know we need to watch out for her and each other," She says. "Denise, you know very well that is not wise, you have never been outside the walls of Alexandria" Daryl frowns at her.

Raven looks at her. "And you are our only doctor, if anything happens to you we will be very sorry," She says "We will bring you everything on your list, but we are going alone. Maybe next time." Daryl gets on his motorcycle. "You're riding yours?" He looks at Raven. Raven smiles softly and walks over to his motorcycle with Daryl and smiles at him as she gets on his bike behind him. "Might as well ride with you." She says smiling, having her hands on his shoulder. "You are pushing your way into my bed" He moves his eyebrows significantly and smiles.

. Raven pokes him, laughing, and rolls his eyes, she embraces him round the waist, looks around, and smiles, laying her head on his back. The gate is opened by a man and he lets them out, Daryl turns on his motorcycle and kicks forward. He feels the wind in his hair and smiles under his breath as he feels her arms around his waist. Raven smiles, looking up, and holds her arms around him, but tilts her head back, feeling the wind in her hair and on her face. Daryl dodges dead on, not bothering to reduce his speed. Raven smiles and laughs, leaning back completely, keeping her balance, and raising her arms to the sky. Daryl looks over his shoulder at her and smiles, shaking his head. Raven smiles and sits back and kisses his cheek and blushes and giggles laying her head back on his back and wrapping her arms tightly around him. Daryl pats her hand, and an hour later he stops the motorcycle on the outskirts of town. He puts his feet firmly on the ground and turns off the engine.

"We'll continue on foot, we can't risk the noise. Raven smiles and gets off with him, nodding. "Good idea." She says, wondering if his group how they handled other groups. Daryl pushes the motorcycle between the trees and covers it with branches, then picks up his crossbow, arrows, and backpack. "We have a specific list of what we need to find." Raven nods, having her crossbow on her back and knives at her belt. They head into town to find medicine and other items on the list, as well as whatever they find useful and fitting for the motorcycle.

Raven looks at him and sighs "Daryl I was wondering has your group come across other groups?" She asks. "Alexandria works or at least tries to work with the Kingdom and the Hilltop" He marches ahead looking around "But there are also people to fear and stay away from." Raven nods and stays close, looking around as they go. "Have you dealt with violent groups before?" She asks Daryl tenses at her question. "With organized groups no, but with a few people who decided to have fun at my expense yes." Raven stops noticing his behavior and crinkles his brow. "Daryl please tell me what happened to you and your group before Alexandria?" She asks. "Before Alexandria, many bad things happened to my group" He continues walking ahead "Fucking Terminus, fucking crusaders," He says.

Raven nods walking with him listening. "I want to make sure what happened, it seems like everything was bad before." She says "It was very bad in the beginning Raven, we lost a lot of people, we were fighting for our lives. More than once we were separated, but we always found each other somehow. We always came back together in one number or another, but always." He says.

Raven nods grabs his hand and holds it "I'm sorry you have been through a lot and lost people along the way. But I'm glad you and your group stuck together." She says "I did everything I could to make them stick, to find them, and to avenge them." He says. Raven holds his hand tightly and puts her arm around his shoulder "I know, Daryl. But what you can do now is stay strong and keep fighting." She says.

Daryl stops, turns to face her, and just hugs her. Thoughts of dead people run through his head. "I'm holding you to your word." He whispers into her hair, pressing his face against it. He misses Beth, her joyful laughter. Raven smiles softly and giggles. "As long as I have you there to protect me, there's no way I'm leaving you." She says blushing as she hears his heartbeat. "Thanks, Raven." He says kissing her lightly in the hair. "Let's go get what we're looking for," He says.

Raven smiles and blushes as she moves away from him and starts walking toward the nearest building. "Raven you can't go into the same rage as when you killed in front of Alexandria, you can't be threatening. Do you understand? " He asks, grabbing her hand. Raven looks down at our hands and smiles, looking back up at him: "Yes, I understand, don't worry Daryl, I'm sneaky and calm when I go on runs." She says. He raises his eyebrows high and tilts his head slightly as if not quite believing her. He intertwined his hand with hers. "I want to keep an eye on you at all times, so don't leave unless I tell you to run." He says.

Raven smiles and nods. "I know Daryl. You will see and believe that I am calm and sneaky during this run. I'm fast too. I'm in and out of every store. But I know it is different because I'm in a group and not alone. But Daryl I can handle myself if I get in trouble I will yell for you." She says smiling at him, she kisses his cheek and walks to the entrance, she holds her crossbow and knocks loudly on the door, waiting for any sign of walkers inside.

Daryl watches her from the sidelines and lets her prove herself, he wants to give her a chance to reveal her skills. He leans against the glass and crosses his arms over his chest. Raven doesn't hear any walkers at first, when she opens the door she hears a few and slowly walks in with her crossbow at the ready. When one of the walkers is in her line of sight, she shoots it in the head and quickly pulls out her knife to kill the next one. With the heel of her boot, she stomps on the walker crawling towards her. She looks at Daryl and smiles. Daryl smiles slightly and nods approvingly. He walks inside, looks around, and notices a pharmacy at the end. "I'll go get the drugs, and you find the rest." He says tearing the list in half and handing it to her.

Raven grabs the list starts looking for the things on it, and puts what she finds into her backpack. While doing so she is careful not to run into walkers. Daryl opens the security gate of the pharmacy and goes inside. He throws everything on the list into his backpack and anything else he finds that might be useful to him. Raven walks up to the counter looks around some more sees a bracelet and smiles thinking of Daryl so she grabs the bracelet to give him later when they are safe. She grabs more things that might be useful and puts them in her bag. "I have everything. Do you?" Daryl asks looking through the shelves. Raven smiles and looks at him: "Yes, I have." She says while she finds him in her back pocket.

Daryl throws some flannels in his backpack for the very end and leaves the store. The town looks unusually quiet and peaceful. Raven exits the store and puts her crossbow on her back, keeping her knife out for safety. "Let's go back, I don't like it here," He says. Raven looked at him and shrugged her shoulders. "I need more clothes that are more my style, I don't like the bright, colorful, flowery clothes we have at home." She says Daryl looks at her. "I hadn't noticed that you don't like flowers." He laughs.

Raven smiles and giggles: "I like flowers, but not on clothes. I love roses though they are my favorite flower." She says starts walking to another store. "Well, move along, Rose, I don't have all day." He says heading to the store across the street. Raven looks at him sharply and shakes her head. She sees a store with dark clothing and leather. She enters the store carefree, her crossbow in her hands. Daryl crinkles his eyebrows, comes up behind her, and grabs her arm. "What is this?" He asks

Raven looks at him shakes off his arm walks over to them just like Daryl and gets the biggest smile. Daryl rolls his eyes and takes the opportunity to look around the store since he's already here anyway. Maybe he can find some clothes for Judith. Raven grabs a leather vest and grabs some dark flannels and some skinny jeans. "Don't judge me on what clothes I like, plus I either get my vest or steal yours," She says with a giggle. "It's my brother's vest." He growls under his breath and walks off into the depths of the store. Raven looks over, wrinkles his brow, and looks down. "Sorry." She says as she finishes grabbing the clothes and putting them in her backpack.

She walked outside alone and went to another store. Daryl took a deep breath and stared at the sweatshirt he held in his hand. It doesn't take much to quickly bring out extreme emotions in him, from happiness and joy to uncontrollable anger. Raven went into another store to give Daryl space, she didn't want to disturb him or upset him more. She walks into the store and starts looking for more supplies. Daryl takes notice of the voices coming from the street, wrinkles his eyebrows, and walks to the door leaning his head out. Raven hears the voices and quickly hides so as not to be conspicuous, but to where she can see the entrance from. Daryl is kneeling by the window and looks out through it, a blond man is standing in the middle of the road facing Daryl's building. "," He growls to himself. Three others are standing next to him, he knows two of them won't make it.

Raven sees a man with a half-burned face and he is holding a knife in his hand, she might be able to get at least the other men, but she is not sure about the man with the burned face. "I'm telling you I saw him here," Dwight growled at the man with the gray hair and mustache. "You got it all wrong again!" He groaned another "You've been looking for that guy with the fucking wings for months and nothing, let it go." One of the men said. Raven hears what they are saying and thinks about Daryl and growles quietly, hoping Daryl won't do anything stupid to get caught or hurt. "Oh, Daryl please be careful." She says quietly to herself.

Daryl tries to find a way out of the situation despite seeing Dwight's rage, but he has to contain himself for Raven. Raven remains calm, not knowing what these people are capable of, but wants to sneak back to Daryl. Daryl searches the store but finds nothing, he heads back to the exit and leans in slightly. The men move forward analyzing their surroundings. Raven slowly walks towards the entrance, seeing where the men are she can sneak up behind one of them and kill him. Daryl looks around more carefully and sees Raven in the doorway hiding in the shadows. He wrinkled his brow, seeing the concentration on her face. Raven looks at one of the men, pulls out a knife, and slowly walks out of the shadows. She knows how to kill a man in 5 seconds. Daryl straightens up and looks at her to have a few seconds to react. "Here I am" He walks out of the store "I'm here alone" He raises his hands in the air.

Raven looks and gasps and shakes her head. "No, no Daryl please no." She says softly standing and walking out of the store. "I'm alone Dwight." He looks at Raven, but she has to move her body to cover the entrance to the skip where Raven is and prays in his heart that for once she will remain unnoticed and calm. Raven looks at him and growls, getting a little angry and holding her knife tightly in her hand. She doesn't want to lose or get Daryl hurt or killed. So she stays calm and slowly creeps into the small alleyway to stay alert as she worries about Daryl. Dwight grins from ear to ear. "I've been looking for you." He walks closer. "I'm here, you found me. You can have your revenge." He says

Raven looks at him confused, not knowing what he's talking about, she aims her crossbow at the guy standing in front of Daryl. "If you went out here alone, then you wouldn't have relieved yourself so you're protecting someone." He looked around. Raven growled, grabbed the crossbow, and aimed it at his head, intending to pull the trigger. "Boys check the area, there must be someone important here with him." Dwight laughed and his friends scattered around the area. Dwight grabbed Daryl tightly by the arm first taking his crossbow and knives "And we go for a walk." He says.

Raven growls and looks over, she wants to help Daryl, she wants to be able to get to him without being noticed, but she has never been around four men, she was lucky enough to kill and deal with two men at the beginning of the apocalypse after killing her parents. Dwight drags Daryl to one of the cars, punches him hard, and punches him in the stomach. Again and again, Daryl doesn't fight back, he can't. He doesn't want to, in his mind, he was just making sure they didn't find Raven, and that she was safe. Raven sees what's happening and quickly sneaks up to the car and hides behind the corner of the car and has her crossbow and slowly approaches the man who has his back to her she puts the crossbow to his head and looks at him.

"One sudden moment and this arrow will pierce your head." She growls and holds the crossbow straight at his head. "Raven no" Daryl groans on the ground "You were supposed to leave." Dwight laughs out loud "There's our little friend, you think I'm scared of you?" He asks. Raven looked at him and growled "You should be scared. Leave him alone. No one is going to hurt me or anyone I care about." She said, pulling out her gun and pointing it at him. "Well, birdie," a voice behind her called back. The cold blade pressed against her throat, and Daryl tried to pick himself up off the ground and help her.

Raven growled and felt the blade, but didn't pull away and stayed put. "What the hell do you want from Daryl, what do you want from us?" She asks him, looking at the man in front of her and then at Daryl. "We don't want anything from you" Dwight grins from ear to ear. "You're a bonus, so to speak, "Dwight says "I helped you, you prick." Daryl gets up from his knees "I saved you and your fucking wife and you fucking robbed me. And now you dare take revenge on me for what?" Daryl questions in anger. Raven looks at Daryl and then at Dwight and glares, grabs the man with the knife arm twists it behind his back, and points her gun at his head. "I will kill you all if you don't let us go. I can kill a man in five seconds." She growls and twists the man's arm more about to break it. Daryl leaned against the hood of the car and wiped his face clean of blood, Dwight put the knife to his throat. "Decide who's more important, the one Negan's man can replace with another or the Dixon you love?" Dwight asks. Raven looks at him, gasps and growls then lets go of the man and puts her hands up. "Don't hurt him, please." She says trying to stay strong and not cry.

"Wise," He says smiling, and pulls out a knife and crossbow. One of the men walks up to them and speaks. "Negan is telling us to go back, we have to do this." He breathes. "I'll find you Dixon and then I'll gut you" He growls in his ear Dwight and pats him on the back. Hard and painful. "Sleep with your eyes open" The man slaps Raven on the head to make sure she doesn't attack them as they drive away. Raven falls to the ground and is disoriented and clutching her head. growling and moaning in pain. Daryl gathers all his strength to approach her and falls to his knees beside her. "Raven," He says as he touches her head.

Raven looks at him, stares into his eyes, and touches his face. "Daryl, are you okay?" She asks. She has to ask him about who the hell these men were and who the hell Negan was. "Yeah, I'm fine, but what about you?" He asks. Raven smiles slightly and nods. "I'm okay. Who the hell were those people?" She asks as he slowly gets up gets a little dizzy and puts his hand on the car next to them. "Hey." She says it helps him stay on his feet despite the pain he is feeling from the beating "We can't go home, they might follow us." He says.

Raven looks at him and breathes heavily slightly. "Daryl, who the hell was that? You told me about some groups, but you never told me about them. That guy looked like he knew you. And who the hell is Negan!" She asks and gets irritated knowing that she wants to kill the men for hurting them. "Calm down, please," He staggers, walking away from the car, "I once saved Dwight, his wife, and sister. They returned the favor by robbing me and trying to kill me. They ended up shooting me, I was able to go home to my group. But the next time I met him, I beat him severely. Well, he just got pissed off. I don't know that dickhead Negan." He explains. Raven looks at him and quickly walks over to him, embraces him, and holds him close. "I'm glad they didn't kill us, I didn't want to leave you to die with them," She says. "You should get as far away from here as possible, it never affected you." He shook his head "You shouldn't get hurt," Daryl says. Raven shook her head and grabbed his hand. "I would rather sacrifice myself to be hurt or killed than you Daryl Dixon." She says helping him walk towards the motorcycle. "No," He shakes his head, "I can't go." He sits down.

Raven looks at him and crouches down next to him. "Daryl, we need to at least get out of sight, like go into the woods." She says, looking worried. "I need to rest for a while, just a while." He closes her eyes. Raven looks at him, holds his hands, puts her hand on his cheek, and puts her forehead against his. "I will protect you and I will sacrifice myself to protect you," She says. Daryl hears her words but doesn't have the strength to answer her, he just squeezes her hand. Fucking Dwight, if he gets the chance he'll kill him with his bare hands. "Go get the backpacks, we need to get them." He says.

Raven nods and goes to get the backpacks, she quickly returns and sees that he is weak and she is so worried. Upon returning in front of him she puts her hands on his cheeks. "Daryl, I need to check your wound." She says staring into his eyes. "I'm fine, I promise." He opens his eyes and looks at her "It's just a beating, nothing more. It doesn't even hurt that much." He says. Raven looks at him with a raised eyebrow "Alright then Mr. Tough Guy get up and walk on your own." She says putting her hands on her hips as she stands up. "Such a smartass" He grabs the motorcycle and rises to his feet leaning against it "You see," He says. Raven smiles and pokes him lightly "Stand up unsupported, smartass." She says crossing her arms "Woman" He groans.

Raven smiles and blushes slightly thinking about what he wants to say. 'No, but you can give me a kiss.' That's what she's thinking and wants to say, but she says it. "I'm just kidding with you, look, we need to not be out in the open like this, we need to go into the woods." She says standing in front of him and grabbing his hand. "Take my motorcycle, I'm not leaving it here." He straightens up "I'll get the bags." He says. Raven looks at him and nods, he uncovers the motorcycle and grabs the handlebars, and she walks towards the woods. She sees a. "I see a small cabin, we can stay there." She says walking towards the cabin. "Huh," Daryl grabs his pack, stays on his feet for a moment, and moves after her.

Raven walks towards the cabin, leans her bike against it, and takes a knife out of the boot she had hidden to check for walkers in the cabin. Daryl doesn't have the strength to argue with her, obediently waiting for her to do everything. Raven sees the two walkers, smiles, and pulls out a knife. She has two knives, one in each shoe, throws them in the air, catches them, holds the blades, and throws the knives at their heads. She casually goes to pick up her knives. Daryl goes inside with his backpack on his shoulders, the cabin is neat, though it smells musty. Raven smiles and looks up at the sky, she giggles, returns to the cabin, and closes the door behind her.

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q-gorgeous · 9 months

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What Will It Be? Chapter 4

ao3

fanfiction

@kinglazrus

this chapter has some art :D (to be inserted later once i have the link)

another chapter hehehe

Dash was smiling as he made his way home, a crown made out of paper napkins and plastic forks sitting on top of his head. He beat Foley by a landslide. Tucker might have a ravenous appetite, but he forgot that Dash was another growing teenage boy that was also on the football team. There was no competition.

He remembered the concentration on Danny’s face as he painstakingly and carefully crafted the crown out of materials they had sitting at their table. He had placed it on top of Dash’s head proudly but he blushed and turned away at Sam and Tucker’s snickers.

Dash had declared that he’d treasure his crown forever and didn’t take it off when they all went their separate ways.

His house was getting closer and he could see his dad’s car in the driveway. He clenched his hands around his backpack straps. He hoped he could get upstairs to his room without his dad noticing him.

Dash walked down the street and up to the front door. He opened it quietly and listened for a few moments. He could hear his dad grumbling and making noise through the door to the garage so he slipped inside and quietly shut the door behind him.

He tiptoed down the hallway and up the stairs into his room. Once he had the door shut behind him, he let out a deep breath.

He took off his jacket and threw it on top of his bed. He had a bit before he would usually start his run, he could get some homework done before leaving again.

Dash sat down in his desk chair and started pulling his math homework out. As he bent over, the crown almost fell off of his head. He caught it before it fell all the way off of his head. When he sat back up he took it off and sat it on the head of the teddy bear that was sitting on his desk next to his computer monitor. He smiled at it and grabbed a pencil from the cup sitting next to the bear.

As he started working on his homework he thought about their plans to go hiking soon. They decided that this weekend was a bit too short notice to go. Tucker had plans with family and Sam’s mom was trying to rope her into going to some gala thing. They decided they’d go next weekend instead. He was looking forward to it. Dash and Danny didn’t get to hang out that much because they were both always so busy. He didn’t know what it was that Danny was doing all the time, though. Dash always wondered what it was.

Maybe Danny just never really wanted to hang out with him. Maybe he was saying he was busy as an excuse to get out of it.

Dash shook his head and looked back down at his homework. He didn’t realize he had stopped working on it while he was thinking. He looked over at his clock. He didn’t realize how much time had passed already. He could go on his run now. Maybe it would help clear his head. He wasn’t able to concentrate anyways.

He stood up and changed into his gym clothes. He opened his door and listened for his dad. He could hear the tv going in the living room. Dash walked out, turning off the light and shutting the door behind him. He walked down the stairs and past the living without his dad noticing him and he quickly opened and closed the front door.

Dash stopped and stretched. Today’s run was going to be a lot more boring without Kwan to talk to. He hoped it went by fast today. Maybe he could’ve asked Danny to come with him. Danny didn’t seem like he’d be interested in going on a run though, especially if he was still anything like he was freshman year when they took the President’s Fitness Test.

He started jogging down the street. Danny did look pretty lean nowadays. Dare he say he even looked muscular. Maybe that was what Danny did when he was always busy. Maybe he just didn’t like exercising in front of other people. That’d be reasonable.

The sun was beginning to set and it got darker the longer he ran. Soon he could see the Nasty Burger again, its neon sign lit up this time. As he got closer he could smell the food cooking inside and his stomach growled. He would have to eat something when he got back home.

Dash heard something weird as he passed the Nasty Burger. Down the street from him there was some shuffling in the alley up ahead. Garbage cans clanged on the ground as they were knocked over and he could hear some people shuffling.

Dash slowed down and stopped before he reached the alley. He didn’t know what kind of business was going on in there but he definitely didn’t want to find out what it was.

He was about to turn around when he saw the people start walking out of the alley. They were two men in white suits. Must be the GIW. The first was walking backwards, holding onto something. As they walked further out Dash’s eyes widened as he could see what they were carrying.

Danny Fenton was held in between them. His wrists and ankles were bound and he was looking frantically around him, struggling, looking for anything to help him escape. His mouth had also been taped over but Dash could hear him mumbling from here. As Danny frantically turned his head again his eyes met Dash’s and they widened. It looked like Danny was pleading with him, begging him to help.

All Dash could do was stand there.

“Holy shit?” He whispered, then a little louder. “What the fuck?”

Both heads of the GIW agents turned to look at Dash. The agent holding onto Danny’s feet made a motion at the other and started heading in Dash’s direction.

“Shit!” Dash immediately turned around and booked it in the opposite direction he had been going in.

What was this agent guy planning on doing with him if he caught him? Would they take him like they were doing to Danny? Why would they be taking Danny anyways? Were these two agents going rogue? What was going on?

Dash ran as fast as he could. He heard the agent’s feet hitting the ground behind him, keeping a steady pace with him. He needed to lose him but how?

Looking around, Dash took a sharp turn into the alley on his left. He knocked over garbage cans as he ran by, trying to create any sort of obstacle that would slow the man down. He turned out of the alley and back onto the street and saw the next one he’d turn into. He crossed the street and ran into it. This one was blocked off by a fence at the end but he just needed to climb the things in front of it to get over.

He jumped on top of the crates that littered the ground in front of the dumpster that sat in front of the fence. Just before he hopped over, he turned his head to see the agent only just getting to the alley entrance. Dash jumped down and booked it down the street.

He was getting closer to his neighborhood. All he had to do was make it home. Just a couple more twists and turns and he’d be there.

He was so tired, his chest and his legs were aching but he couldn’t stop now. He couldn’t let these men take him too.

There! That was his house. He chanced another look over his shoulder but didn’t see the agent that was following him anymore. He pulled his keys out of his pocket as he ran the rest of the way down the street. He fumbled with them, almost dropping them, before he found the deadbolt key and inserted it as soon as he got to the door. When he unlocked the door handle, he immediately wrenched it open and slammed it back shut. He locked both locks and leaned his back against the door, letting out a deep breath.

He heard a harsh thump coming from the living room and he almost jumped out of his socks. Had the agent somehow gotten here before him? How did he know where he lived?

“What’s with all this racket?” A gruff voice called.

Dash wiped a hand down the front of his face. “Sorry, dad.”

“Keep it down, would ya?”

Dash could hear him taking a swig of beer from his bottle and winced.

“Yes, sir.”

He hurried quietly up the stairs to his room. He grabbed a new set of clothes and headed to the bathroom to take a shower.

The way Fenton looked at Dash was playing itself over and over in Dash’s mind. Dash didn’t know what he could’ve done. There were two men there and they were huge. Dash wouldn’t have been able to take on two of them. At the very least he knew they took Danny. Someone knew. He could tell the police tomorrow, when he wasn’t worried about the agents coming to find him.

He turned the water on and turned the heat all the way up. He took boiling showers when he was stressed. And boy, was this stressful.

He got in and took a quick shower and got right back out. He got dressed and walked out of the bathroom still toweling his hair.

He opened the door to his room and closed it, locking the door handle. Glancing at his desk, he saw the unfinished homework he had abandoned before he took a break to go on his run. Throwing his towel over the back of his chair, he ignored the papers and turned off his light. He crawled into bed and closed his eyes.

Maybe a good night’s sleep would help clear his head. Help him figure out what he was going to do.

#gorgi writes #danny phantom #invisobang 2023 #dash baxter #danny fenton #giw #swagger bishie #fanfiction #fanfic #phic

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rodr1cks · 3 years

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Hi! I don't know if your request are open, but I'd like to know if you could write a rodrick x reader where the reader is Rowley's sister and discovers her talking on the phone with a friend saying she's in love with Rodrick and tells Greg and he tells her that Rodrick has been in love with her for a long time and they try to put them together?

cw: none it’s pure fluff

word count: 1.8k

“I know! And he didn’t even apologize!” Greg ranted into the receiver.

“I’m sorry, Greg,” Rowley frowned, sympathetic nature as present as always. “Anyways, mom says dinner is ready, see you tonight?” Rowley’s tone lifted at the end of his sentence, excitement brewing as he thought about the sleepover he was meant to have with Greg later that evening.

You slid into the kitchen on your socks, just as Rowley was concluding his conversation with Greg.

Rowley sat anxiously through dinner, quickly consuming everything on his plate, including the vegetables. You observed him from across the table, cocking your head as your younger brother inhaled his peas like he hadn’t eaten in days.

He took his last bite before exclaiming, “I’m going to pack my stuff for Greg’s!”

Not without clearing his dishes first, of course.

You rolled your eyes at his charisma and headed into the living room. You slumped over on the couch, limbs splayed every which way as you called your friend, Marissa. You had been needing to gush to somebody about your newest crush, Rodrick Heffley.

You had only interacted with the messy haired boy in passing: family dinners, picking up Greg, dropping off Rowley, etc.

“I don’t know what it is, he’s just so- so- captivating. God, Mar, I swear I could watch him play drums for hours on end!”

Unbeknownst to you, Rowley had entered the room and was about to speak. You were too caught up in drooling over Rodrick to notice. “Hey, y/n-” He cut himself off quickly, curiosity getting the best of him.

“And did you see what he was wearing at Matt’s party? Those jeans? And that eyeliner? God I could just tear them-”

Rowley cleared his throat, unwilling to hear the rest. “Y/n can you take me to Greg’s, please?” He stood awkwardly with his lips pursed.

Your head whipped around faster than the speed of light. “Marissa, I gotta go.”

“Rowley, how much of that did you hear?”

He lied, something he wasn’t really good at, “Not much! I promise!”

“Rowley Jefferson you had better keep your mouth shut, or I swear I’ll-”

You stopped yourself, closing your eyes and drawing in a deep breath. “Just get in the car.” You breathed out in a scarily calm tone. Your red headed sibling nodded frantically out of fear and darted to the garage.

Usually, you would make him walk, but ever since your infatuation with Rodrick began, you were more eager to give him rides over there. The mere prospect of getting the slightest glance sending excitement throughout your entire being.

When you pulled up to the Heffley home, you gave him a final glare. “Say nothing.” He gave you the same shaky nod he gave you only moments ago. With that, he was bounding towards the front door. You made sure he got inside safely and drove off.

“Rowley? Everything okay?” Greg asked his friend, concerned with his behavior. Rowley couldn’t handle keeping secrets. His hands grew clammy and a slight sweat broke out on his forehead. Rowley had an uncomfortably fake smile plastered on his face as he tried to assure Greg that everything was just peachy.

All it took was one knowing look from Greg and Rowley broke.

“Alright, fine! I heard my sister talking to her friend about how hot Rodrick is and how she wants to-”

“Okay, okay! I get the picture!”

Greg took a moment to proceed, his brows furrowed as he brought a contemplative fist up to support his chin.

“Lemme get this straight. Your sister likes my brother?”

Rowley nodded slowly.

“Y/n likes Rodrick?”

Rowley nodded again, confirming Greg’s exclamations.

“But y/n is smart a-and hot!”

“Greg! Don’t say that!” Rowley groaned, rolling his head back in disgust. Greg threw both of his hands up in defense, “I’m just stating facts.”

“Wait, I have an idea.” A pit of dread grew in Rowley’s stomach, Greg’s ideas never turned out well.

“What if we set up y/n with Rodrick? Just hear me out, this could be good for him.”

Rowley mulled the idea over in his head, thinking that maybe dating you could make Rodrick more… agreeable? Maybe you could be a good influence on the intimidating teenager. A happier Rodrick would make sleepovers at Greg’s a lot more pleasant.

“I think that could work,” Rowley said apprehensively. “But how do we do it?”

Greg shrugged, “Simple, we just tell Rodrick there’s a really hot Girl interested in him.”

The boys proceeded to draw up a plan.

Phase one: The approach. Greg and Rowley nervously ascended the wooden steps that led to Rodrick’s room. Rodrick was laying on his back, spinning a drumstick between his nimble fingers.

He shot up immediately when he noticed the boys’ presence. “What are your dweebs doing up here?”

Phase two: Delivery. “Calm down Rodrick, we have some information you might wanna know,” Greg reasoned cooly, easing Rodrick’s anger from a roaring ten to a mild six.

Greg nodded over at Rowley, signaling him to start talking.

“W-well,” Rowley stuttered, “I uhm- heard my sister talking about you and she- she likes you and she was talking about your jeans?”

Rodrick blinked in confusion, processing this intel.

“Your sister likes me? Are you sure she meant me?”

“That’s what I said!” Greg exclaimed and Rodrick shot him a terrifying glare, silently telling Greg to can it.

Rodrick was honestly shocked. He always observed you from afar, deciding himself that a chick as cool as you would never go for him. This news was absolutely world shattering for the boy, he completely admired you.

Phase three: Action. “We have a plan.” Greg said, a conniving grin creeping onto his face. “Rowley calls y/n, tells her that he’s feeling sick and blames it on Mom’s pot roast or something. Then when she rushes over all worried, you greet her at the door. And then you work your Rodrick magic!” Greg smiled, abundant pride for his plan evident in his stature.

“It’s a go.” Rodrick declared, scrambling around his room to put on deodorant, a new t-shirt, and cologne before pointing at Rowley. “Make the call.”

“Hey, y/n,” Rowley groaned into the phone, sounding as sick as he possibly could. “I- I think I ate something bad and I really need you ro come get me.”

You sighed, telling him you’d be there in ten minutes and to have his things ready to go. You departed for the Heffley house for the second time that night.

When Rowley didn’t come out to your car, you trudged up to the red door to go retrieve the sickly boy.

You gave the door three lazy knocks, expecting Rowley’s face to be the one behind it when it swung open. “Hey kid, are you feeling okay?” You asked, not yet making eye contact with the figure leering in the doorframe.

Your eyes widened as you came to realize who it was.

“Funny seeing you here,” Rodrick drawled out, a smirk tugging at his lips. Your cheeks burned with the heat of one thousand suns, you were not expecting this tonight.

“Y-yeah,” you smiled awkwardly, staring at your feet. “Rowley called, he uhm, he’s not feeling well. So if you could just get him for me I can leave. Immediately.” You cursed yourself for your blubbering idiocy as you twiddled your fingers.

“Actually, Rowley is feeling much, much better.” Suspicion grew as you studied Rodrick’s devious expression. “What’s going on?” You asked, genuinely puzzled as nothing was making any sense.

“I don’t know, y/n. Why don’t you come in and tell me?” Rodrick was surprisingly smooth in this situation, despite his nerves being at an all time high.

“Rowley is just up here,” Rodrick said while guiding you up the stairs to his room. In the meantime, Greg and Rowley peered out from the hallway, watching you follow Rodrick upstairs and giggling to themselves.

The overhead lights in Rodrick’s room were turned on, the glow from his string lights illuminating the area instead. “Mood lighting,” as he had called it. Rodrick had already instructed the boys to stay far away once you had arrived.

You were still lost, Rowley nowhere in sight. “So? Where is he?” You asked expectantly.

“Here’s the thing y/n. You know Rowley can’t keep secrets, right? I mean you have to know that, he is your brother”

Shit.

“That little shit stain! I’ll get him, I swear to god!” You turned to bound down the stairs, ready to tear the entire house apart in hunting for him. Rodrick grabbed your wrist before your foot could even reach the first step.

“Y/n, relax, relax!” His grip on your flesh made your breath hitch and stomach churn. “It’s okay, I feel the same way.” Rodrick’s cocky facade dissipated into nothing as he revealed his feelings.

You got a glimpse of a more vulnerable side of Rodrick that you were sure he didn’t typically share. “But girls like you don’t usually like stupid guys like me,” Rodrick was staring at the ground now, grasp on your arm softening.

You were too unsure of your words so you opted to move your free hand to hold his bicep, closing a considerable amount of distance between the two of you in the process.

“Rodrick, I’ve never liked anybody as much as I like you. And I don’t mean that in a weird or creepy way it’s just that-”

Now it was time for Rodrick’s own addition to the plan. Phase four: The kiss.

Your rambling was cut short by a pair of warm lips pressing against your own. He kissed you with just enough force to cause you to stumble back a bit, causing you to brace yourself against his torso.

He carded a gentle hand through your hair and tugged back on your soft locks. You moaned at the vibrations tendrilling at your scalp and kissed him with even more ferocity.

Somehow, you ended up on his bed, straddling him. The blankets strewn across his mattress melded against your knees and the fronts of your calves as you stabilized yourself on his lap.

He placed apprehensive hands on your hip bones, unsure of what was okay and what wasn’t. You placed your hand on top of his larger one, assuring him that you were comfortable. You even allowed a small whimper to leave your throat as he tightened his hold on you.

You only pulled away to catch your breath, looking into his eyes for the first time that night. You smiled warmly at him as you cupped his cheek. Suddenly, Rodrick’s signature smirk returned to his face.

“Now tell me what you were saying about my jeans.”

#rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley fanfic #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley #diary of a wimpy kid #devon bostick

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the-soliloquies-of-sadists · 3 years

Text

#259

“Seth? Right? C’mon in. Your brother told you who I am? Good. Want a beer?... Here you go. Let’s go out to the back deck. The sun went down, and the cool evening air is starting to kick in. Have a seat…. Ok. Seth, do you know why you are here? Let me be blunt. Your brother David owes me a lot of money. A lot. He’s been doing jobs for me that I need someone I can trust to do. But that’s barely covering the interest. I told him he needs to start working down the principal. So, he offered me… you….

“That’s right he sold you to me. You are going to whore off his debt…. Shut the fuck up. The deal is set. Have some more beer; it will help you to deal with what I need to go over with you….

“Your brother probably told you that I am a powerful man. Hopefully he didn’t tell you what I did. I will share with you one part of my business that you will be a part of. I have several whore agencies across several states. They ain’t like the whorehouses in the movies. The girls never see money; they show up at a set time and do whatever the man wants. They do not say no. They get to live in city, and they show their clients the best the city has to offer. They have everything paid for and get a nice credit card too.

“A few years ago—hell it’s more like ten or so, —I was convinced to do the same but on the fag side. Now, I knew nothing about fag sex, and it disgusted me. Once I got over the visuals, the business was just like the girls. The difference I found out was that I had to have two sets of whores—fag boys like yourself, and men old enough to be your father.

“It was Frankie, one of my goons, who told me that there is a lot money to be made by men taking the dominant role. I didn’t believe it. So, he arranged for me to watch him from a distance him work over this faggot. He didn’t tell me how much he was earning. When I saw this fag hand over three hundred bucks, I knew I needed to get into this. I mean my guy did barely anything other than smack the fag around, call him names, and sit on the faggot’s face at the end. That fag ate that fat ass while pounding its pud. Frankie even went over to the fag’s wallet and took an additional hundred out of it. And wouldn’t you know, that fag boy was loving life.

“Needless to say, that was how I got into the fag whoring business. I had Frankie lead it; he even got somewhat in shape, and now he’s my most popular whore men. Wait a minute, you know him. He fucked you behind a dumpster in the alley behind that fag bar a couple weeks ago. When I saw you at David’s birthday partner at my tavern and he told me that you were his sperm burping brother, I sent Frankie to find out more about you. I know that you can take a good pounding, face slaps, rough housing. Frankie also told me that you cleaned off his cock after we was done and that you drank his piss. You even begged him for more as he walked away from you, naked covered in piss behind the dumpster. That’s all I needed to hear.

“After meeting with your brother, all I had to do was press the massive debt. I knew how self-serving he was. He sold you out so fucking fast. And now I own you. Now strip faggot….

“You do realize who I am? No one ever disobeys one of my direct commands. Now think about your next move real carefully. STRIP YOU FUCKING FAGGOT. Take your time standing up. That drug I put in your beer will make you kinda dizzy if you stand too fast. Yeah, I didn’t want you to run back to your car. Kid, when you came in that door, you were mine. That’s it. Accept your fate. Good boy.

“Yeah, after Frankie roughed up that fag, I was curious. He arranged for me to use one of his regulars who was blindfolded. It was so much fun to kick and punch that faggot only to have him crawl to me, begging for more. With each time, I got more wicked, and they wanted more. I had a few fags over the years locked up and had the best of all worlds. My wife provides me with companionship. My girlfriend offers sensual making love and snuggling. And my faggot takes all my rage filled abuse.

“Underwear needs to go too. Let’s see what you have. Not bad. Looks like you are excited about being naked in front of me. That’s a lot of pre-cum. Decent sized balls. I’d say you are about six inches long. The shaft is a bit thin, but the head is good size. Your foreskin is not too long. That’s good. If there’s going to be one sweaty stinky dick around here, it will be mine. If yours becomes a problem, we’ll get you circumcised.

“What? Faggot, you are nothing more to me than my pickup. If I want to modify you out, I sure as hell am going to. I modify all my property. Tattoos, piercing, permanent hair removal, castration, branding, and so on. But actually, I am a bit cautious. I made the mistake of castrating a fag and regretted it afterwards. He just didn’t seem right to me. The cutter I went to tried to put in fake balls, but it still didn’t seem right. I ended up replacing that fag with another.

“I am looking for my perfect fag. I’m planning on letting my girlfriend go, but sometimes I need that close touch. Not going to do that with my wife. Every day now I realize that I want to be with faggots over women. Faggots are so much easier to mold into what I want. And every now and then I might snuggle with one.

“I like what I see. I want to see your cumload. Jerk off for me. I’ll give you a few minutes to do so. When you do, shoot in your spare hand. I want to see the quantity. I’m going to get your collar; it’s probably done charging. I’m also going to take your car keys. You ain’t going anywhere. Continue jacking….

“….Did you cum? You did! Good fag. When was the last time you came? Yesterday morning? Well that’s a good load. Here, lock this collar around your neck. Ok, so here’s the deal. You can jack off as often as you like, whenever you like as long as I am not using you. If I catch you jacking off, don’t stop. If you are watching porn, continue. But know this, no matter if you haven’t cum in days or you just had a massive orgasm, should I require your use, I fully expect 100% horniness and enthusiasm.

“This remote is hooked up to your collar. With this button… you fall to the floor just like that. Hurt’s like a mother fucker hunh? That’s on low. Remember that. It is also set up to shock you should you cross a 20-foot perimeter of the house. I am notified by an app on my phone when you do something that stupid. Also, the garage and my office on the third floor are completely off limits. You will not fare well should you cross that threshold without me.

“Bring your cock over here. Is your dick head sensitive. It is! Fuck yes! As you get soft, it’s driving you crazy. Good. Good. I see a problem here. Your pubic hair is all over the place. You shouldn’t have hair down here. Look how long this hair is. There’s enough so that I can twirl a bunch around my finger. With a firm yank,… it comes out in one clump. Aww shut the fuck up. Most of the time your screams of pain will turn me on, but now it’s just annoying. Another clump on the other side, and it doesn’t even look like you lost any.

“Look at me faggot. Say ‘Thank you.’ Good fag. Open your mouth. Here eat your pubic hair. Go on chew it. Nasty? I know, now swallow. And here’s… another bunch. Swallow these…. And these… And these… You’ll be permanently shaved in the near future so you won’t have to do much pubic hair eating.

“While you finish your snack, let me take you around the place and show you your duties. This is the kitchen. David told me that you went to culinary school but then dropped out. Well, you will be doing all the cooking here. Cleaning too.

“Let’s go downstairs…. This is your room, although you really don’t have privacy. Over there is your cot. Next to it is the plug you will put into your collar every night. I am notified on my app should the power level drop below 75%. That’s equivalent for not charging for a full week. Unless I just slam you with shocks, I should never get one of those notifications.

“You have a wash basin there, and your toilet is there. There’s your douche hose over there in the shower. No, I haven’t gotten around to buying it a toilet seat; the cold porcelain is fine. And I haven’t hooked up the hot water down here.

“Let’s go up to the Master bedroom…. You never climb into my bed unless I invite you in. In fact no non-sexual furniture for you either without permission. Through that door is the master bath. You will keep this place spotless. That includes licking clean my toilet. The rimseat next to it is when I want to make you toilet paper or a full toilet.

“And here’s the playroom. It’s totally soundproofed. You are going to suffer a lot in here. Screaming is encouraged. In fact, what time is it? Seven. Well we might as well start now. Get on all fours—knees and elbows. Spread those knees wide. Every night you will present yourself in this position, as you will every morning.

“Don’t get too excited. I am going to fuck you good, long, and deep. But that won’t until the end. We got a long way to go. You see, the only people who knows my affinity for preferring the boys to the girls are Frankie, me, and now you. Your brother thinks I’m adding you to my harem of fags. This is something that cannot get out. And if it does, I will know it came from you, and I want you to know the perpetual hell that will come your way.

“Tonight is a test of what you can expect, but keep in mind, tonight’s suffering will be only five hours long, much shorter than what will be if my preference is ever widely known.

“And after the paddling your ass to a welted mess, whipping your back until it turns to bloody hamburger, kicking your balls until they are swollen to twice their size, bruising up your face, and fucking you with very little lube, I may feel the need to snuggle up with you afterwards.

“But first, there’s a lot to do before we do that. Oh look your balls are just ripe for a good old fashioned full-force kick. Every night and every morning you will get one to always remind you what you are.

“Faggot right now with this kick your hell begins.”

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wlwmarvelenthusiast · 3 years

Text

Darkest Secrets

Requested by @mcmorgan9794

Summary: Keeping this secret from Wanda has been hard, but you don't have a choice but to come clean when everything is brought to light.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3,446

You’d always wanted to tell Wanda your deepest, darkest secret. You had been with her for well over a year, after all. A secret like the one you harboured wasn’t something that you should keep from someone you loved so dearly. But your secret was the ugliest part of yourself. It was something you hated, lurking deep within every inch of your body. It brewed in your blood and rested in your bones, uncontrolled at the best of times and unstoppable at the worst. It was a burden you’d never wanted to place upon the girl you loved.

Yet, keeping it from her hurt too. She’d look at you with those soft green eyes, spilling everything to you. Tears would stream down her cheeks as she’d tell you all about how much she hated the powers she’d been given. You’d hold her close and whisper soft words of comfort, wiping her tears away with the pad of your thumb, refusing to tell her you felt the same about your own. She would tell you everything. You wouldn’t tell her anything. You couldn’t tell her anything. She thought she was a monster. In reality, you were the monster. If she knew that, her heart would shatter.

Sometimes, these facts were all you could think about. It was the quiet moments. Wanda was away getting coffee with Natasha, Tony and Bruce were in the lab, Thor was on Asgard, and Clint was home with his family. You were left alone at the compound. You hardly ventured out of your own room. While silence screamed in the dark room, you tried to distract yourself with a book or a movie, but it didn’t last. Instead, the weight of your secret was crushing the oxygen out of your lungs. It always did. You longed to have Wanda back, to have her by your side and thread your fingers through hers. She didn’t know how agonizing solitude could be.

You curled up in your armchair, pulling your knees up to your chest and curling your arms around them. You squeezed your eyes shut, wishing you could will the overwhelming thoughts out of your head. They were screaming at you. They were reminding you of the monster that lay dormant in your very soul, cackling as they pushed images of what you were capable of. Then you imagined Wanda. You could do her so much harm and she didn’t even know it. Were you putting her in danger every day you lay by her side? You swallowed as you tried to force back the tears.

The dark thoughts came next. They always did. You wondered how much better off the world would be without you. You wondered how much better off she would be without you. She loved you. Losing you would break her heart, but she’d be okay eventually. If you hurt her in the way only you knew you were capable of, you knew she would never be okay again. None of them would. The dam broke and tears spilled down your cheeks. Hurting Wanda Maximoff would kill you.

And as you were about to imagine all the ways you could take yourself and your monster out of this world, your phone rang.

You grabbed the phone off the table, wiping the tears from your eyes with the back of your hand. You took a steadying breath before you even dared look down at the screen. The first thing you noticed wasn’t the person who was calling, but the time. It hadn’t felt like it had been as long as it had since the other had left you alone in the compound. The darkness in your head could do that. You lost track of time often when you reached that place. An hour could pass, then two, and then six.

It was Natasha’s face that was flashing on your screen. Worry filled your gut. Was Wanda okay? She had to be okay. You forced a deep breath in, and then out. Her phone had probably died. The Sokovian was notorious for remembering to plug the charger into her phone, but forgetting to plug it into the wall on the other end. After reminding yourself of that a few times, you finally found the ability to slide the answer button and hold the phone up to your ear.

“Hey.”

“Thank god,” Natasha’s voice said. There was a loud screech in the background, the sound of metal grinding against metal. “Listen you need to get to the hospital.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Oxygen caught in your throat and you were barely able to let words squeeze past the lump that had formed. “The hospital?”

“The ambulance is almost there. She’s hurt bad. Don’t come anywhere near Midtown.”

You didn’t even bother to respond. In fact, you didn’t even bother to hang up the phone. You simply slammed it down on the table that you’d only just picked it up from, heading for the elevator. A million thoughts were racing through your head. There were so many emotions tugging at your heart that you could hardly decipher one from the next. Fear, anger, and worry were all fighting to take over every one of your senses. You couldn’t breathe. It was as if on autopilot that you made it to the garage and hotwired one of Tony’s cars.

Scenery was flashing by you, mere streaks outside the windows of the car. The pedal was on the floor beneath your foot. You flexed your fingers; knuckles having gone white with the force of your grip on the steering wheel. Your brain was showing you visuals of Wanda lying on the table, shining green eyes dulled in the absence of life. Head too wrapped up in the thoughts that ran through it, you didn’t realize you weren’t headed for the hospital at all. You were headed toward midtown, exactly where Natasha had told you not to go.

You’d never been an Avenger. You would never be an Avenger. Maybe it was selfish, refusing to help others when you had the ability to. People died and you might have been able to stop it. Your own powers scared you too much to allow you to. It was something you’d decided long ago. The lives of every civilian that you could have saved were worth it. You couldn’t unleash that sinister thing that lived inside you. Yet, here you were, rushing toward the fight like you were Tony Stark in his suit of armour, or Steve Rogers with a vibranium shield strapped to your back.

The car screeched as you slammed your foot down on the brake. The seatbelt dug so hard into your ribs that you weren’t sure a few hadn’t snapped beneath the pressure. The adrenaline pumping through your veins assured you wouldn’t feel it even if they did. You fought to keep your breathing under control as you stepped out of the car and took in the destruction around you. Someone here had hurt Wanda, and, honestly, you couldn’t find it in you to care which one it had been. You’d kill every single one.

Gravel and rubble crunched beneath your feet as you ventured further and further into the warzone that had broken out in Midtown New York. They looked human, whoever they were. They were armed to the teeth and attacking every moving thing in sight. None of them had noticed you yet. That was better for both of you, for the time being. You shut your eyes for a brief moment and listen to the sounds around you. Civilians were screaming and car alarms were blaring and explosions roared. Then there was running, and it stopped at your side.

“I told you not to come here. Wanda’s at the hospital.”

You opened your eyes. Natasha was at your side. Blood trickled down her temple, staining her pale skin. She flinched as she put weight on her left leg to move a little closer to you. Wanda might have been the woman you called your own, but the Avengers were your family. Seeing one of them hurting in the way Natasha was only stoked the fire that was beginning to burn hotter and hotter inside of you. Your gaze moved away from her and back to the oncoming forces. They were getting closer.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Tony’s cars have trackers. We got an alert the second you left the compound and another as you came here. Get to the hospital.”

But you’d already stopped listening. The incoming threat had gotten close enough to notice you now. Green eyes followed your gaze until she, too, noticed the men approaching the two of you. She raised her arm, the gun still clutched tight in her grip. You could tell by the bewildered expression on her face that she hadn’t at all been expecting you to stop her. Your hand grabbed her wrist, lowering her arm until it was back against her side. You suspected it was the crimson gleam in your eyes that was the only thing that was keeping her weapon lowered.

You turned back to her once more. Surprise was written across every feature on her face… no, it was fear. She was afraid. She should be scared of you. Your skin began to blacken as you began to fade into nothing. Her eyes were still able to find yours, glowing bright as ever. She flinched when you reached out, backing up as you reached for her hand in an attempt for a final goodbye. You bowed your head, wishing she’d let you feel the warmth of her skin beneath your hand one final time.

“I’m sorry, Natasha.”

Then you turned away from her. The last of your human form faded away. It was hard to make out any shape in the tall, dark shadow that you’d become. Haunting golden eyes cast to the men that were racing toward you. As if to match the scene, a dark cloud rolled in front of the sun. Its shadow cast down onto the city, the darkness concealing you even further and making your eyes glow seemingly brighter. They continued to approach. They didn’t know their mistake. You did. You were dangerous at any time. You were more dangerous now that they’d hurt the person you loved more than you had ever loved before.

You raised your arms into the sky, feet leaving the ground. When your feet had been touching the concrete below them, you’d already been towering over the oncoming men. Now, you looked down upon them. Guns raised to where you hovered in the sky. It was almost comical. One of them screamed, and suddenly they were all firing. Their bullets tore through you, yet they didn’t touch you. Your head tilted to the side ever so slightly as an unsettling grin appeared in your dark shadow, disrupted by the whiz of dozens of bullets flying through it.

“Knock knock,” you said. Even your voice was sinister, a deep rumble that felt like it emanated from every direction, or deep inside of any listener.

The laughter that burst from their chests was strange, at first. It seemed out of place in such a setting. Confusion flickered across each of their faces. Then they laughed harder, and harder. Guns fell to the ground and they howled with laughter, but it contrasted their eyes. There was no sparkle of amusement in even one. It was pure, unbridled fear that you could see shining in them. One by one they fell to their knees, clawing at their throats as they tried to stop. One had tears streaming down his cheeks as he covered his ears, trying to block out the sounds that were torn from his own throat.

They couldn’t get in their comms to tell their men to keep away.

The next group that came for you met the same fate. Soon they, too, were on the ground. You got some sort of sick satisfaction as you watched them fall, unable to control their bodies. You’d taken over, grabbing hold of their heads and their bodies. You’d grabbed onto their lungs and ripped laughter from their chests, absolutely uncontrollable. When they lost control of that, that was when the fear started to take over. Fear would grip at them; you could feel it emanating off them. It would only get worse. You’d watched men take their lives as they lost their minds.

There was a reason you never used your powers. You were afraid of them, sure. The reason you were afraid of them, however, wasn’t because of their strength. Their strength could have saved lives. It wasn’t even because you couldn’t control them. You were addicted to your own powers. You took pride in watching grown men reduced to tears, curled up on the ground, shaking like an abused puppy. Your sick satisfaction was what you feared.

Was this what it felt like to be an Avenger? Were you taking pride in watching the civilians able to run from the scene, or was your pride in the fact that they no longer feared the invading forces, but you instead? The men were rendered immobile as the New Yorkers ran far from the scene. There you were in the centre of it, arms outstretched eyes gleaming, and grin growing wider and ever more evil. Natasha was still hovering just outside of your reach. You could feel her. You turned to face her. You could tell by the look in her eyes that she no longer recognized you. She put her lips to her comm.

“Evacuate the area. Don’t come down this way. Clint, go check on Wanda.”

Wanda.

Your powers ceased. No one rose right away. It would take some time for them to recover. They were gasping for breath. Their arms were too preoccupied hugging themselves tight to bother even trying to wipe the tears that covered many of their faces. Some of them were even rocking back and forth as the effect wore off. You dropped to the ground, human form taking back over. Your eyes were back to normal as you looked to Natasha once more. Neither of you said anything, but you took off running.

You pulled your hood up further, gaze locked to your black running shoes. You couldn’t help but feel like every set of eyes was on you. That’s how it felt, you supposed, being wanted by every agency on the planet. With the ability to change your form, though, it was pretty easy to hide in plain sight. Your footsteps echoed on the hard floor beneath your feet as you kept forward. Anyone who saw you would know you were on a mission. You knew exactly where you were going.

She was sleeping when you arrived. The cuts on her body had been stitched and bandaged, and her broken arm had been cast. Sam’s signature was already present on the red material, accompanied by a bad drawing of a bird. You couldn’t help but smile a little to yourself at that. Hopefully, it had kept a smile on her face as her world fell into turmoil, something undoubtedly caused by you. That simple fact would always break your heart. You had to turn to the window to keep the tears at bay.

When you turned back to Wanda, her green eyes were on you. There was something in her eyes that you couldn’t quite read. Her head tilted to the side as she looked at you, in a form that would be unrecognizable. It wasn’t just hiding you from the authorities, but it was hiding you from her. It was protecting her from you. She didn’t need to know that it was you, the woman who had never for a single second deserved to love her or be loved by her. A small smile grew on her lips.

“You forget I can read minds, my love.”

Of course. Wanda had always promised you she’d never read your mind. She would never violate your privacy like that. Right now, though, standing in her hospital room, you hadn’t been you. Obviously, she’d found it appropriate to peek into the mind of the stranger who had been watching her sleep. You should have been mortified. You’d never wanted her to know that you were here. Instead, a large part of you was relieved.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” she breathed out. “So, that was quite the secret.”

Even though you deserved it, it still felt like a knife to the heart when she said it aloud. You nodded slowly, cracking your knuckles nervously. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

You studied her face. Wanda really was a saint, with powers like the ones she had. She was kind, thoughtful, and respectful. You were sure if you’d had her powers right then, you’d be digging through her mind trying to find out what she was thinking. Her eyes weren’t showing you enough. They were calm, though, and it was keeping you calm. Your breathing was level and your head was steady on your shoulders, something you wouldn’t have had been able to say only five short minutes ago.

“Are you afraid?” You managed.

“No,” she assured instantly. “Confused. Why didn’t you tell me?”

You breathed out slowly. “I didn’t want to hurt you. My powers? They’ll hurt you.”

“Will you hurt me?”

“Never!” You insisted. “I… I only hurt them because they hurt you.”

She smiled. “Then I’m not afraid.”

She beckoned you. You padded slowly toward the bed, watching as she stared up at you with an amount of love and adoration that you didn't deserve. Wanda glanced at the door, making sure no one was there to see, and then took your hand in hers, tugging on it to get you to sit down next to her. Instant calm washed over you, drowning out any negative, scared thoughts that had been in your head for days previous. It was like her hand was a lifeline, keeping you anchored on the spot. In the last few days, you’d been anything but calm and present.

You’d been a wreck without her, not knowing if she’d hate you… if you even saw her again. You didn’t know if you’d be able to feel her touch again, to feel her hands on your cheeks or to feel her grab onto you and pull you into a searing kiss the way she did. But you had seen her again, and, somehow, she didn’t hate you. Now, it seemed now you could get oxygen flowing through your body again. Still, you were uncertain.

“And can you forgive me?” You asked, voice so quiet she almost didn’t hear it. “Can you ever love me again?”

Wanda took her free hand and put it on the underside of your chin, tilting your gaze up to hers. “I see nothing that has to be forgiven.” She brushed her thumb across your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. “I love you. I will never, ever stop loving you.”

“Promise?”

“I promise you,” she assured.

She leaned forward and then her lips were on yours. It took you a second to realize the salty taste was from the tears that were streaming down your cheeks, but it didn’t seem to be bothering the Sokovian. Both of your hands found hers and you held tight, as if afraid you’d never see her again if you dared to let go. She slipped one hand out of yours as she pulled back, using it to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’m sorry I kept it from you,” you muttered.

“I’m sorry you were so scared all alone.”

Your heart swelled. You really had found the perfect woman. “You’re really too good to me. You know that?”

Wanda laughed. “You deserve the world. You know that?”

With the way you tucked yourself against her in a hug, it was obvious she knew you felt the same of her. Her hand stroked your hair as you finally, for the first time ever, felt absolute ease and a sense of peace. Hiding that secret from Wanda had been the second hardest thing you’d ever done. The hardest had been coming clean with it. You snuggled a little closer to her, burying your head into the crook of her neck and mumbling against her skin.

“I’ll never hide anything from you again. I promise.”

Wanda pulled you away so she could look at you. “While we’re revealing secrets, I suppose I should tell you about the engagement ring in my jacket pocket.”

#wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch x reader #wanda x reader #marvel #mcu #lesbian #wlw

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stratiotis-nth · 3 years

Text

Ever since Cas came back and turned human, it would seem he’s stopped giving a shit about literally everything. When Dean noticed this new aspect of Cas’ colorful personality, he had made himself paranoid that Cas would suddenly start flirting with him on the regular now that his big confession was out in the open.

So while Dean was scared shitless, he was confusingly disappointed when Cas didn’t do that at all.

No. The first thing the ex-angel did after surviving another encounter with death was start a Shotgun war with Sam.

And no, not the bang bang kinda shotgun.

“Shotgun!” Cas practically bellowed down the corridor as the three of them were getting ready to get dinner.

“That’s not fair, Cas! I’m in the bathroom!” Sam complained through the closed door. Cas ignored him completely as he strode past and ducked into the passenger seat of the Impala. Dean, who had been desperately trying to stay out of this war, just gave Cas a sideways smile.

“Y’know, the rules are you can’t call shotgun until you actually see the car, Cas.” He told him, his lips tugging up in amusement and…just happiness that Cas was close.

“Until Sam demands to implement this rule, I will abuse his ignorance.” Cas replied, smiling softly. Once again, every time Cas won the passenger seat, Dean wanted to ask what was with his sudden obsession with it. It wasn’t like Cas hadn’t been stubborn enough to claim it before he became human. He wondered what changed, why Cas suddenly cared about seating arrangements. But, as he had been doing ever since they got Cas back (again), Dean bit his tongue. He didn’t want to overwhelm the newly human with the tsunami of questions he had.

Sam griped the entire way to the diner, grumbling about being squished even though Dean knew there was more than enough space. Cas sat next to Dean, watching the trees amble by with a serene, totally unaffected smile on his face. Pleased as a pickle. Dean was fighting his own internal battle between his burning questions and undying amusement at Sam’s plight.

At the diner, Cas sat next to Dean. That much was hardly anything new. The two just naturally gravitated towards each other, and after Dean caught himself drifting mindlessly towards Cas more times than he could count, he stopped giving him grief about personal space.

Cas’ thigh brushed up against his almost the entire meal. Dean pretended not to notice, but internally, he was melting into a puddle of bi panic.

In the parking lot, Sam was quick to call shotgun when Cas got distracted by their waitress catching up to him and giving him her phone number. Dean was too busy bristling and snapping at Cas to hurry up to even notice Sam was sitting next to him.

Cas sulked the entire ride home, the waitress’ number stuffed into one of his pockets. Dean tried not to think that maybe Cas was saving her number for another time.

On Saturday, it was Dean’s turn to go on a food run. Sam was busy working a ghoul case with Eileen, so when Cas wanted to come along there was no yelling match over the front. He ducked into the passenger seat and just about blinded Dean’s poor weak heart with a smile that crinkled his nose.

They fought over eggs for about twenty minutes in the diary aisle. Dean win by threatening to give Sam exclusive access to shotgun. Cas relented with a glower that could have smote demons if he still had his grace.

Eventually, Sam did implement the rule about only calling shotgun with the car in sight, and as the weeks went by and Dean’s silent journey is self realization unfolded, the war at escalated. Now, neither of them could call shotgun without all three of them being in sights of the car. It had gotten bad enough that Sam and Cas waited impatiently for Dean in the garage, staring expectantly for him to round the corner so they could have their yelling match.

Cas nearly blew Dean’s eardrums out, bellowing “SHOTGUN!” loud enough to drown out Sam. He angrily opened his mouth to argue when his phone started ringing.

“It’s Eileen.” He said, his back snapping straight and immediately answering the video call. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Can you give me a ride?” Dean could hear Eileen’s voice over the tinny speakers. “My car broke down and the nearest shop is two hours away.”

“Where are you?”

“An hour away from you? It was supposed to be a surprise.”

Dean saw Sam’s face soften, the tension of worry falling away. He butted in, sticking his face in view of the camera so Eileen could read his lips.

“Just tow it here. I can patch your ride.” He said. “Sam can take the tow truck.”

“Are you sure?” Eileen asked.

“Course. ‘Sides, those guys won’t give you a fair price anyway.” Dean flapped his hand dismissively.

“Thanks, Dean.” Eileen beamed, and oh, Dean knew that smile. Mischievous and damnit, she had planned this from the start, hadn’t she? Just to get a free repair out of him. Dean squinted suspiciously at her, and Eileen just wiggled her eyebrows.

“Cas and I can pick up the curse box and meet you two back here in a few hours.” Dean said. He saw Cas immediately brighten, having secured the passenger seat.

Cas was looking particularly triumphant as they drove, his knees rocking back and forth in a content, mindless sort of way. Finally, Dean couldn’t hold back the question anymore.

He had done his work accepting the fact that he wasn’t as straight as he thought, that it wasn’t very heterosexual to stare at Cas’ lips or pop an awkward boner seeing him all cleaned up after Purgatory, or completely shutting down every time he died or getting all prickly when waitresses give him her phone number. He was gay for Cas, and he had just gotten around to accepting this. Cas said he loved him, right? so Dean shouldn’t be afraid or rejection or anything. Yeah, no he was terrified.

“Hey, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?” He turned to him with that soft smile that Dean wanted all to himself.

“I gotta ask, man,” Dean chuckled a little awkwardly and kept his eyes firmly on the road. “Why are you so determined about sitting shotgun? You’ve never been before.”

“Ah.” Cas hummed, turning back to the road too. “I suppose now I have the freedom to pursue the things I want. Chuck is gone and my deal with the Empty is null in void. I have time to…focus my attentions on other things.”

“The things you want? What, you got a better view up here or something?”

“Well yes, the windshield does allow more viewing space.” Cas agreed. “But it’s not my main goal in doing all this.”

“Then…what is?”

“Dean.” Cas said in that ever patient, you’re-being-dumb-about-this voice. “I enjoy being up here because it allows me to be closer to you. You are the view I most admire, Dean. I’m always so helplessly drawn to you.”

Dean’s mouth had gone a little dry and his grip on the wheel was suddenly sweaty. The silence that fell was deafening. Cas didn’t even look concerned. He just sat there waiting the road as if he hadn’t just said something so…so…soft to Dean.

Helplessly drawn. Like Cas couldn’t bear being away from him. Like Dean was this perfect, magnetic thing that Cas was enchanted by, something worth having around.

With a jerk of the wheel, Dean was pulling over on the side of the empty highway in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. He threw Baby into park before twisting around and staring at Cas.

He didn’t even look vaguely concerned, the fucker. He just gave Dean a patient look.

Dean opened his mouth, and closed it. Did it again, ready to tell Cas everything. Snapped his jaw shut.

Cas watched in cool amusement. Dean felt his cheeks get hot.

“Screw this.” He grumbled to himself, before lunging across the bench, grabbing Cas’ face with both hands, and kissing him square on the lips.

He felt Cas freeze for a moment, probably in total shock, before he started moving.

Dean nearly choked on a gasp as the chapped, warm lips started pushing and devouring, Cas was suddenly the one taking charge, shoving Dean back against his window as he clambered across the seats to get on top of him.

Twelve years of pent up emotions came crashing out in a sudden burst of unstoppable passion. And as soon as it started, it seemed to have stopped. They both were panting, Dean’s jeans were tight and his entire body screamed to have Cas against him again. But Cas had made to move away, putting space between him as he looked at Dean with wide eyes.

He didn’t get very far. Dean grabbed ahold of his jacket lapels and held on tight with an iron grip, keeping Cas hovering inches above him, basically sharing air.

“Wanna hear a secret?” He whispered between heavy breathes. Cas just blinked at him. “I’ve always rooted for you getting shotgun.”

Cas’ kiss swollen lips split into a dazzling smile, and he rewarded Dean with another intense make out session. When they pulled away, Dean found the words spilling out of his mouth.

“I love you too, Cas. You can have me. God, you have had me, for years you have. Can’t believe it took me so long, I’m sorry I made you think you couldn’t have me, I’m sorry it took me so long—“

Cas shut him up with another kiss, and Dean’s ramble faded into a helpless whimper that too was swallowed up by Cas.

“Does this mean I get exclusive shotgun privileges?” Cas asked a few hours later than they finally took the curse box off the poor shopkeeper’s hands. They had arrived nearly an hour late, not that Dean (or his dick for that matter) particularly cared.

“Honestly? Play it up to Sam and he might let you get away with it for a while.” Dean chuckled. Without even thinking too hard about it, his free hand slithered over the bench, grabbing Cas’ and entwining their fingers. Something so small and simple, yet made Dean light up like a sun.

If Cas didn’t manage to convince Sam, Dean sure as hell would.

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

Text

the best interview ever ~ pete davidson

word count: 1745

request?: yes!

“I’d love for you to write something about Pete Davidson flirting with a journalism student who’s interviewing him and her just being all shy and stuff, just fluff!”

description: in which he finds the shy journalism student interviewing him extremely adorable

pairing: pete davidson x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

From the moment you walked in the room, Pete’s eyes were glued to you. You noticed him look you up and down when you walked in first and tried to hide your face so he wouldn’t see that you were blushing.

“Well hello,” he said. “Are you my interviewer?”

“I am! My name is (Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you (Y/N).”

You sat across from him, hoping it wasn’t as obvious that you were shaking as it felt. “It’s nice to meet you, too. I feel like I should warn you that this is my first solo interview, so I’m sorry if it’s super awkward.”

“Are you telling me that I’m popping your interviewing cherry?” Pete asked.

You chuckled and nodded. “I’m actually still a journalism student. I’ve shadowed some interviews, but this is my first actual interview.”

“That’s awesome!”

You smiled as Pete raised a hand to you. You high fived him and felt any stress or nervousness you had slowly start to melt away.

Pete’s chill demeanor felt so much different than any of the interviews you had shadowed. Although, it wasn’t hard to be more chill than CEOs and local politicians, which were the only people you had encountered so far. Pete was the first actual celebrity you had met, which made you extra nervous, but so far he was doing a good job at easing your nerves.

Since this was your first solo interview, you had done a lot of research on Pete and his new movie to make sure you didn’t embarrass yourself. You had two and a half pages in your notebook filled with questions to ask as well as little facts you felt like you should know. You hadn’t even done this much research for school projects, which was hot you knew you were serious about this.

Pete’s eyes glanced at your notebook as you opened it, a small smile crossing his face. “Damn, you��re already more prepared than most people who have interviewed me before.”

“Good,” you blurted before you could stop yourself. Pete gave you an amused look as you tried to stutter out a better response. “I-I Mean, personally, I hate watching interviews where the interviewer obviously hasn’t done their research, s-so I can’t imagine being interviewed by someone like-like that.”

“No, I respect it. I appreciate that.”

With that awkward encounter out of the way, you were able to actually start the interview.

It started off really well. You asked Pete about his new movie and any upcoming projects he had in the works. He told you about his work on SNL and his hope to film another stand up special soon. He was absolutely radiating happiness as he talked about his work, which made you extremely happy as well.

As the questions moved to be more personal, you came to learn more about Pete on a personal level. It went from feeling like an interviewer and their interviewee to feeling like two people who just met and who were getting to know one another.

You felt like you had gotten a hang of the interviewing thing, until Pete asked something that threw you off your groove. “So when do you ask me about my dating life?”

You had been looking down at your notebook when he asked, so your head snapped up so quickly that you almost made yourself dizzy, and your eyes were so wide that they were actually hurting a little. Pete laughed at the face you were making, and you could feel the embarrassment and nerves starting to come back.

“I-I...I wasn’t...” you stuttered, trying to figure out something to say. You never had any intentions of asking Pete about his dating life. It wasn’t relevant to the interview, so you weren’t going to bring it up.

“Damn, you’re really the best interviewer I’ve ever had,” Pete commented. “Most people go straight for the jugular on relationship questions. I’m still asked about an engagement that ended nearly two years ago. I respect that you had no intentions on bringing it up.”

You were so thrown off by the earlier question that even Pete’s reassurance that he was okay with you not asking wasn’t enough to get you back on track. You looked down at your notebook again, trying to remember what you had asked last but your mind felt empty. You were running out of time, you didn’t want to mess this up now.

Pete leaned forward and took your hands in his. You looked up at him and felt your breath catch in your throat upon realizing how close he was.

“Hey, I’m sorry I brought it up like that,” he said. “I really was just joking around. We were having fun and talking, I’m just used to that going south by being asked about my dating life because...well, you know who I was engaged to. I didn’t mean to startle you with the question.”

His voice was soft and it felt like you were seeing a completely different side of Pete, one you hadn’t even seen in movies or on SNL. Like it was a side of him he reserved for people closest to him, people that he cared about. You were shocked but also grateful that he felt like he could show you this side.

“I am single, by the way,” he added. “Just something I want you, personally, to know.”

He winked before he let go of your hands and sat back in his seat. Now you felt even more flustered, but for a different reason.

The rest of the interview went off without a hitch, and before you knew it, you were thanking Pete for his time and turning off your recording device. The crew came to take the microphone off the both of you.

“You’re my last interview of the day,” Pete said as the two of you stood from your seats. “I’m glad I got to end it on such a good note.”

You couldn’t help the smile that broke out across your face. “I’m glad I got to be such a positive ending.”

“Are you parked downstairs?” You nodded, a bit confused by his question. “Mind if I walk you down? I gotta wait for my ride back to the hotel anyways, might as well spend that time with someone.”

At a loss for words, you just nodded.

The two of you walked together to the elevator that would bring you down to the parking garage you had parked your car in. The crew was still busy taking down the equipment in the room, so just the two of you stepped into the elevator.

“You’re really good for someone who’s just a student,” Pete said as the doors closed. “You’re more professional than most interviewers I’ve had.”

“I don’t want to be like every other tabloid journalist that just wants the latest scoop,” you responded. “I know that gossip and drama sells, but I wanna be one of those journalists that gets to show the real side of celebrities, not just the bullshit you see in magazines or on websites.”

“You’re one of very few, (Y/N), I’ll give you that.”

You couldn’t help but smile as Pete said your name. It just felt right hearing it come from his lips. You wondered if you could make him say it again.

“I really am sorry for throwing you off with that relationship jab,” Pete continued. “I meant for it to be lighthearted, like a joke, but I realized after I said it that it did come out pretty harsh.”

“It wasn’t harsh,” you shrugged. “I was just a bit shocked. I hadn’t planned on asking you anything that would make you uncomfortable, so I hadn’t even entertained the idea of asking you relationship questions.”

“I appreciate that. I’m not a super private guy, but it gets hard to be in the public eye with a relationship when I’m just trying to move on and people bring up my past ones, or what they believe to be past ones.”

Before you could respond, the doors to the elevator opened. The two of you stepped out and walked through the nearly empty parking garage before arriving to your car. You paused and turned back to Pete. You didn’t want to go just yet. You had enjoyed getting to spend time with him, even if it were likely he just saw you as yet another interviewer and nothing more.

“Thanks for walking me to my car,” you said, lamely. You mentally kicked yourself for not saying something that actually warranted a response.

“No problem. Gotta make sure no one kidnaps you.”

You smiled at the joke. You toyed with the keys in your hand, trying to put off getting in the car as much as you could. Pete was hesitant to walk away as well, which gave you a little bit of hope as to where this was going.

“I meant what I said about being single, by the way,” Pete finally said. “Which is to say that I am...single.”

“I am, too,” you told him.

A smirk was tugging at the corner of his lips. “What should I do with that information then?”

“Well,” you started, “you’re single, I’m single. We just spent the day getting to know one another. Maybe we could extend that to a non-professional setting.”

The smile on Pete’s face was brighter than the sun. “That’s exactly what I was thinking, actually. How about tomorrow? We could go for a coffee, start small.”

“Sounds fantastic. Here.” You passed him your phone and watched him put his number into it.

It felt so much easier to get into your car then.

You watched Pete walk away through the rearview mirror, and once he was far enough away you did a dance in your seat to celebrate both a great interview and the date you had managed to score along the way.

You were just starting up your car when a text from an unknown number came into your phone.

“just making sure you gave me a real number ~ pete”

You smiled to yourself and sent a response. “nope, this is actually a chinese take out place that conveniently does text messages as well”

“well fuck, that’s the third time this has happened this week”

You giggled to yourself before putting your phone aside and driving back towards your home, feeling as though you were on cloud nine.

#pete davidson #pete davidson imagine #pete davidson x reader #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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buckystarlight · 3 years

Text

A Blessing, Beautiful And True

pairing: bucky x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: use of she/her pronouns; swearing if you squint; mentions of death; mentions of food

a/n: this is a rewrite of one of my old fics that i absolutely hated with my entire being. i hate this a little bit less djaksjsjs also pls ignore how i literally cannot write a good ending to save my life.

dedicated to @xsamsharons for lending me her name. i hope i did it justice mi amor ily <3

Bucky learnt to value things.

Not the great, terribly material things people around him seemed to rush after. Not money, not even when he was barely getting by.

No, for Bucky, it was the small, seemingly insignificant things.

The tiny toy WWII soldier figurine he found at a yard sale one Tuesday afternoon, the one with the missing arm. The near-exact model of the car his father used to drive—rusted around the tiny steel axel, the rubber wheels worn from use. That yellow screwdriver set that sat at the very back of the tool cabinet in the garage, unusable because of the cracked plastic handles and rusted steel, that looked exactly like the kit he had once used to fix up the plumbing in his first apartment.

Bucky was used to valuing the broken little things.

He never truly understood what loving something whole, something complete felt like—not until he met you.

You, in your white sweater and blue jeans, hair tossed up in a braid. You, your eyes that dancing with unbroken light, like the rays of the sun on the ocean on a bright summer’s day. You, with the sort of kindness he never truly thought he would ever be worthy of, not until you showed him that he was.

You, the girl he fell in love with before he could ever truly know what love was.

Steve might’ve been the first to notice. He was with him that day, the day he first saw you. They had been hunting for a Christmas present for Tony, and even though Bucky wasn’t exactly thrilled to have to attend, he wasn’t about to show up empty handed.

Steve didn’t even realize that the sly-footed assassin wasn’t by his side until he had walked the two blocks from the mall to his car. Hands ghosting over the gun tucked into the holster hooked into his waistband, Steve retraced his steps, his heart thundering in his throat.

Until he heard Bucky’s laugh.

Not the obviously fake chuckles he used to placate those around him. No, this was the laugh he remembered, the laugh he thought Bucky had lost.

This was Bucky’s laugh—his Bucky’s laugh, before the world stole him away. Pure and innocent.

Happy—so undeniably, inexplicably happy.

The tension eased from his shoulders when he saw you. Steve knew who you were, of course. Everyone did—or at least, everyone who had been around after the Battle of New York. Everyone who had seen you walk among the rubble, bleeding through your jeans, helping dig survivors out of the rubble, guiding them to shelters. Everyone who had seen you do everything you could help those who needed it more than you did, until your legs finally gave way and the only reason you didn’t collapse to the floor was because Steve caught you.

But Steve also happened to know why you’d done it. Because you were kind. Because you were selfless. Because you knew what it was like to lose everyone you loved, and to garner the strength to build yourself up anyway.

You’d lost people too—everyone you loved, killed during the Battle. Your family. Your friends. It might’ve seemed cruel to be spared. Might’ve seemed like a cold, dark twist of fate—and for a time, it did.

Steve had never known anyone to be resilient the way you were.

And maybe, just maybe, he thought to himself, as he watched his friend from through the glass, maybe you would teach him to hold on to the tiniest sliver of hope too.

—

Bucky didn’t even like books.

The only book he’d read—aside from the coursework assigned to him in his school days—was The Hobbit. And even that had taken him an ungodly amount of time to finish.

So yeah, Bucky didn’t exactly like books.

But he still visited the tiny bookstore on the corner every day.

He didn’t even buy anything. He just looked around, running his fingertips over the spines of the books that jutted out of the wooden shelves, the sunlight turning his eyes into uncharted waters of the oceans, swimming with undiscovered secrets and untold lies.

You would talk to him. All the time, and with no trace of the usual pity or sympathy that he heard when he spoke to people. You talked to him in a way that made him feel like himself, in a way that made him feel like he just might rediscover the man he used to be.

That first time he’d seen you was burned into the back of his brain, the image of you standing there with a hip braced against a bookshelf, dressed in a white sweater and jeans, your hair pulled into a braid over your shoulder. He had watched as a strand escaped, falling into your face.

And him—he'd stood there, watching you talk to another woman he couldn't recall because really, how could he look at anything else but you? Bucky was certain he looked like a gaping idiot, both wanting your attention to turn to him, and dreading the fact that he would surely make a fool of himself if you so much as looked at him.

Back in the 40s, things would've been so much easier. He would already have said something witty to make you laugh, he would already have been telling you about the carnival down at the beach and asking if you wanted to go with him.

But when your friend left, and you asked him if there was anything you could help him with, his voice sounded strange to his own ears as he croaked, "Books?"

You had laughed—and he found himself laughing along. A true laugh—for the first time in a long time, the sound didn’t sound fake to his own ears. For the first time in a long time, he felt like himself.

Bucky had taught himself to value that which wasn’t whole—because he wasn’t, either. Love was give and take. Love was equal.

If he was to deserve your love, he would have to be whole again. If he was to deserve your love, he would make himself whole again.

—

There was a sudden shift in the way Bucky viewed the world.

It had been three days since he last saw you, but he walked in through those doors anyway. He had no cause, no reason—he just couldn’t go any longer without seeing you.

You were sitting by the bay window at the very back, reading a book. He took a second just to take you in, to get used to the fact that you weren’t just a figment of his imagination.

The second you looked up, your face split into a grin, like you were truly, genuinely happy to see him. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had smiled at him that way. “Hey, you’re back! It’s Bucky, right?”

He nodded. He couldn't trust himself to speak, not when he was sure he would stumble over his words, not when he couldn't bring himself to string together a coherent sentence in your presence.

"What can I help you with today?" you asked, snapping your book shut and placing it on the table.

"Uh... What're you reading?"

You glanced down at your book before looking up to meet his eyes again. Blue, you thought, supressing a smile. Icy blue, but warm nonetheless—familiar in the way most things aren’t. "Wuthering Heights. You've never read it?"

He shook his head no. "Never been much of a reader, no. Is it any good?"

"It's one of my favourites," was your answer, watching as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The light caught the steel of the chain around his neck—the chain of one of those military-issue dog tags.

And maybe that was how it started—on that dreary cold Wednesday, when you'd stood next to the bookshelf by the window, telling him about your favourite book, but really all he could focus on was the late afternoon sun rendering the hue of your eyes several shades lighter, the soft slope of your nose, the fullness of your mouth. Every little detail about you was etched permanently into his mind—and he wanted to learn more.

He wanted to know everything there was to know about you.

It was about closing time when he decided he had to go. Not because he wanted to, but because he had promised he would have dinner with Sam and Steve. And as much as Bucky wanted to stay, he was a man of his word.

Which is why when he promised you he would come see you as soon as he finished reading the book, you knew he meant it.

—

And you were right.

Two days later, he was back.

It was raining that day, early in the morning when you were just about to open up. And there, standing under the awning in the freezing rain, was Bucky, the collar of his coat turned up against the wind, drenched to the bone.

"What're you doing here?" you asked, eyes wide.

"I just... I don't know," he said. Because he didn't. Bucky didn't even like books—but he did like being around you. There was a strange sort of calm about you, a sense of peace he'd only known in Wakanda. Around you, he was just Bucky—not Sargent Barnes, not the Winter Soldier—just Bucky.

He liked being just Bucky.

You shook your head, but he could've sworn he saw the corner of your mouth tilt upwards as you fished your keys out of your pocket and unlocked the door. "Well, come on inside. I'll turn up the heat and get you something warm to drink. Christ, Buck, you could get pneumonia or something.”

He only nodded once. It didn't matter that he wouldn't get sick—not when the serum in his veins healed his body faster than normal. It didn’t matter that even if he could sick, he wouldn’t have cared, not when you were looking at him like that, with concern in your eyes for something other than your own safety.

You had a coffee machine in the back room, you told him. He followed you, lingering in the doorway as you bustled about, humming a tune under your breath. He recognized it as a song from that one Marvin Gaye album Sam couldn’t stop talking about. He recognized it as a song he wanted to listen to for the rest of his life, if only you were the one singing it.

He recognized that, for better or for worse, you would be his undoing.

—

After that, he came to see you every day.

When the weather got colder still, he brought you steaming cups of hot chocolate from your friend Bella’s café down the street. And on the days when he didn’t, he would head into the back room and make you coffee. You’d never had to tell him how you took it—after that in the rain, he’d somehow remembered what you liked.

You weren’t about to tell him, but you remembered what he liked too.

It started out simple—plum cider that you found on your weekly trip to the farmer’s market. An old vintage copy of The Hobbit from the forties. Rubber silencers for his dog tags that he never used but carried around in his pocket anyway—until eventually, you had something new for him every week, some insignificant thing that he looked at with the kind of childlike awe that made your heart twist into knots in your chest.

He walked you home too. Every evening, with his hands stuffed in his pockets, slowing his stride so that he could walk alongside you. He would stand outside, across the street, hands in his pockets, waiting for you to walk into the apartment you shared with Bella. Only leaving when the lights came on and he knew you were safe.

Bucky wasn’t much of a talker—you learnt that about him. He would spend all day sitting quietly in a corner of your store, reading one of the books he found on the shelf of used copies you kept in the back of the room.

He seemed to love those used books more than the new ones—books someone had already read, books that had already been loved.

He felt a little that way sometimes, too. A little too used for love, not loved enough for use.

But never when he was with you.

And you—you were falling for Bucky Barnes. A little by little, day by day, without even realizing it—not until it all came rushing to you one afternoon, like a dam breaking, like the ocean of his eyes pulling you under, especially when you felt his gaze on you from time to time, watching you as you worked.

That afternoon, a new shipment of books came in. You didn’t even have to ask him for help—he was already on his feet, snapping his copy of Anna Karenina shut, mumbling a soft, “I’ve got it,” as you signed for the order. Hefted the two cartons of books like they weighed nothing at all, and carried them inside.

There was a strange tightness in your stomach as you watched him, standing in the middle of your store—the only thing the Battle of New York hadn’t taken away from you—and you wondered just how it took so damn long to realize that the feeling of familiarity didn’t lie among these books, but rather, in Bucky himself.

—

It was a slow day, so the two of you spent the rest of the afternoon restocking the shelves. He asked you about each of the books, watching your eyes light up as you talked about your favourite ones, until conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence, the two of you basking in each other’s company as you worked.

You didn't even realize how much time had passed until you heard the door open and your friend Bella breezed in. She'd been here the first day Bucky had walked in, had noticed the way your eyes shifted to him mid-conversation like you couldn’t focus on much else when he was around. “Ready for lunch, y/n?”

You looked at Bucky, opening your mouth to ask if he wanted to come along. Not because you didn’t trust him to be alone at the store, but because you wanted his company. Because being around him felt like coming home.

He only waved you off. "Go ahead. I've got plans with Stevie. I'll be here when you're back though."

You believed him. You believed that he would always be around, for as long as you wanted. And you wanted forever.

"Was that the guy from before?" Bella asked, looping an arm through yours as you left the store, walking down the street. She brushed her fiery hair out of her eyes, turning her head slightly to look at you, yellow-green eyes filled with curiosity. “What’s his name?”

"Bucky. He... He's a friend," you said.

"Well," Bella said. "He sure doesn't feel the same way."

"What do you mean?" you asked, confused.

"Y/n, he looks at you like you put the stars in his sky. Are you sure he's just a friend?"

"I... I don't know, Bella."

Because you didn't know what else to call him. Because you and him weren't friends in the way people usually are—you had always been more.

Bucky was always more.

—

"I've barely seen you," Steve said, picking up his can of Diet Pepsi and taking a sip. "Where have you been?"

"Around," Bucky mumbled. Because how could he explain why he was spending so much time at the bookstore with someone he'd only just met? How could he explain the magnetic pull he felt toward you, the inexplicable desire to just be around you?

How could he explain the way you made him feel like himself again?

But Steve knew. Steve always knew. He saw the growing stack of novels on his friend's bedside table, saw him reading at the kitchen table, book propped up against the jug of milk.

He also knew that all this was because of y/n. Because Bucky mumbled that name when he was too exhausted to even know what he was saying. Because Bucky talked in his sleep—and Steve could hear him calling that name through the thin walls that separated their rooms. "You've been at the bookstore?"

Bucky set his drink down. There was so use denying it—his friend would see right through him. Steve had known him for too damn long to believe in his lies. "She's so... I can't even put it into words. She makes me believe that there's good in this world. That all the things I did wrong don't even matter—not when I'm with her. It’s the way she looks at things, the way she’s capable of finding a little bit of good in everything. Like she found something good in me, Steve."

Steve knew it was true. Because he hadn’t seen Bucky this way for a very long time. Because he hadn’t seen that light in his friend’s eyes in a very long time, and ever since he met you, it hadn’t gone away.

—

Bucky had to leave for a couple of days.

He didn't tell you why—just that it was a work thing. How long would he be gone? He didn't know.

"I'll be back soon," he said. "I promise."

And he was. Five days later.

But Bucky was quiet—quieter than usual.

It was a Sunday, and you’d somehow managed to drag him along to the farmer’s market with you. He walked alongside you, hands in his pockets, like he was aching to reach out and touch you but desperately holding himself back.

He’d almost gotten himself killed on that mission.

You took up too many thoughts in his head, too much space in his heart. And when the bullet narrowly missed him, grazing his ribs, his only thought was whether or not you’d miss him if he was gone.

You deserved better than someone who’s life was tied to the death of others. Someone who didn’t have so much blood on his hands.

A few paces ahead of you, Bella walked hand-in-hand with Bucky’s friend Sam. You were glad that Bucky had introduced them, glad that Sam made Bella happy in ways you’d never really known or understood before.

“Look at them,” you said, watching with a smile on your face as Sam quietly slipped a couple of oranges into Bella’s bag. “They look real happy.”

Then, turning to look at him, you smiled, and he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. Because you might deserve better, but he was selfish and stubborn, and the only thing he had wanted in so goddamn long was you you you.

“Go out with me,” he blurted, every thread of self-control he had so carefully cultivated to keep his head in your presence snapping. He felt like he was taken back to that December evening he saw you for the first time, when the words refused to leave his mouth, when you’d rendered him tongue-tied and helpless. Only this time, he couldn’t stop the words from coming out, not as he said, “One date, y/n. One date, and if you don’t have a good time, we can just forget it ever happened and move on.”

His heart shuttered when he saw the small frown creasing your brow, your voice soft as you asked, “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything. I want to do this for the rest of my life with you, y/n,” he said quietly. “But for now, I’ll take that date.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding slowly. “Okay, Bucky, I’ll go out with you.”

He couldn’t help it. Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist, drawing you to him, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around until you were both laughing, childlike and breathless, blissfully unconscious of the knowing look on Sam and Bella’s faces.

Because really, how could he see anything but you? You had been it from the first day he saw, and you were it now—a blessing, beautiful and true.

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buckybarnesdollface · 3 years

Text

Throttle

Summary: Just some shameless Bucky on a motorbike smut. Probably one of my favourite things I've written. Posting it on my birthday because why not.

Warnings: SHAMELESS SMUT, Bucky on a motorbike, female reader

“Tony has a ridiculous amount of cars, does he realize that?” I grumbled as Natasha parked the Range Rover. She chuckled.

“Don’t tell him that – He’ll give you a lecture about why each and every one of them is special and important to him.”

I snorted as we made our way through the underground garage at the compound. We had just returned from gathering intel in the city, and as we passed the rows of Aston Martins, Lamborghinis, Ferraris and other ridiculously pricey vehicles I shook my head. My eyes landed on a sleek, black Honda CBR600RR, though, and I stopped.

“Now this,” I murmured, “I like.” I looked up at Natasha. “Whose bike is this?”

“That’s Barnes’,” she replied, but before I could get a closer look, she grabbed my wrist and shook her head. “Oh, no, I wouldn’t do that if I were you. He won’t let anyone touch that bike – Sometimes I think he cares about it even more than he does Steve.”

I arched a brow. “Is that so?”

“Yes. Seriously, he’s really weird about that bike –”

“We’ll see about that,” I said, and then I was heading to the elevator, Natasha following and spouting warnings at me that I ignored. We found Bucky in the kitchen, looking like he’d just come from the gym as he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. He looked up as we came in.

“That’s quite the bike you’ve got down there, Barnes,” I said casually. The corners of his lips quirked up, and his eyes sparkled.

“You like that, huh?” he murmured, and I nodded, letting my eyes drop so I was looking up at him through my eyelashes.

“I do,” I admitted, and then a slow smirk spread over my face. “I’ve always been a sucker for a sleek motorbike. There’s nothing better than the feel of all that power between your legs.”

Behind me, I could hear Natasha cough to cover the fact that she’d just choked on the air she’d inhaled. Bucky’s blue eyes darkened, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He cocked his head to the side, grinning.

“I’ll tell you what, doll,” he murmured, coming forward until his body had not-so-subtly caged me between him and the island. “How about sometime I show you the bike? If you’re lucky, I might even let you take it for a spin.”

“I’d love that,” I purred. He smirked, winking before he slipped out of the kitchen. Once he was gone, I turned to Natasha with one eyebrow arched smugly. She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“You are shameless,” she grumbled, but my grin only grew wider.

So that’s how, a few days later, I ended up in the parking garage with Bucky. He ran his flesh hand fondly over the body of the bike, a grin on his face.

“She’s a beauty,” I admitted, admiring the shiny black frame. “Can I…?”

“Go ahead, touch it,” Bucky urged, eyes glittering. I shot him a wry look before running my fingertips delicately over the sleek frame. I circled the bike, examining it, impressed with its pristine shape despite the situations I was sure Bucky’d had it in. I said this aloud, and he grinned. “I take real good care of it,” he admitted. “I’m always buffing out scratches and keeping the paint touched up and polishing it.” His grin was wolfish. “I like to take good care of anything that belongs to me. You treat them well, they treat you well.”

I felt my lips quirk up as my hand slid across the smooth leather seat. Bucky and I had been playing this game for months now, flirting and feeding the sexual tension between us, but we’d never actually done anything about it. It was driving everyone on the team insane, and I knew for a fact some of them had a pool going on when Bucky and I would actually hook up. That alone was enough to have me holding out as long as I could.

“How’s it handle?” I asked. Bucky smirked.

“Extremely well.”

“Even the curves?”

“Especially the curves, doll,” he purred, and I felt my stomach do a flip. I looked up to meet his eyes.

“How’s it sound?” I asked him, and he inclined his head.

“Start it up and see for yourself.”

Biting my lip, I flipped the kill switch and turned the key, and then held down the start button. The bike rumbled to life, and I grinned delightedly. I looked over at Bucky, and he gave me a quick nod, lips quirking. I threw my right leg over the bike to straddle it, impressed with how comfortable the seat was.

“Go ahead and give the throttle a little twist, doll,” he encouraged, and my hands found the handlebars. My right hand twisted the grip towards me just the slightest bit and the engine roared, bike rumbling beneath me and sending vibrations through my body. I hummed appreciatively.

“How’s that feel?” Bucky murmured.

“Amazing,” I breathed. “How do I look?”

Bucky’s eyes raked over me, muscle in his jaw twitching as his arms folded across his broad chest. “Better than should be legal,” he admitted, voice low. “Christ, doll, you look like a teenage boy’s wet dream right now.”

I smirked. “Does that mean you’ll let me ride the bike?” I asked coyly, and Bucky chuckled.

“I did promise you could take it for a spin, didn’t I?” he sighed, and I nodded.

“You did. No take-backs.”

With a grin, Bucky slid onto the seat behind me, hands on my waist as he leaned in so that his mouth was at my ear. His breath was hot as he spoke. “I’ll let you take it for a quick ride,” he breathed, “but when I say, we switch. There’s somewhere I wanna take you.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Where?”

“It’s a surprise.” His teeth nipped playfully at my earlobe, and I shivered. I nodded in agreement, and then kicked up the kickstand and put the bike in gear, slowly releasing the clutch and twisting the throttle. I couldn’t keep the grin from my face as we drove the bike out of the compound and out onto the open road.

It was exhilarating, the feel of the warm summer New York air whipping around us as we sped down the two-lane road leading away from the compound. I could feel Bucky, warm and solid behind me, his hands firm on my waist. We drove for ten minutes, but then his flesh hand squeezed my side, signalling it was time to switch. Sighing, I reluctantly pulled onto the shoulder of the road and moved so Bucky could mount the bike.

I stood back for a minute, biting my lip, and Bucky looked up at me with a dark eyebrow cocked.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Admiring the view,” I replied truthfully. The way his thick thighs hugged the frame of the bike was damn near sinful. Bucky chuckled and shook his head.

“Get over here,” he said, and I grinned before climbing onto the bike behind him and winding my arms around his waist. “Hold on tight, doll,” he ordered. “I like to go fast.”

He wasn’t kidding, either; we flew down the road until the trees we passed were just a green blur. He took the curves with a finesse I only wished I had, and I could feel the muscles of his abdomen tighten and contract every time he leaned his body with the bike.

After about twenty minutes we pulled onto a smaller side road, and then another five minutes had us pulling up to a pristine little lake. Bucky stopped the bike, shutting it off and putting down the kickstand. I slid off the bike and looked around in awe.

“This place is beautiful,” I breathed. “How did you know it was here?”

Bucky shrugged. “I found it one day on a drive. I come here sometimes, to get away.”

I nodded, taking it all in. It was breathtaking, like a little slice of paradise. I could understand why he would come here to get away.

Things were silent for a few moments, both of us just enjoying the view and the late summer sunshine. I climbed back onto the bike, where the sun had warmed the leather and black frame. Bucky looked up and cocked an eyebrow.

“You just can’t stay off that thing, can you?” he taunted, and I shrugged.

“It’s warm from the sun. It’s nice.”

“You’re like a damn cat,” Bucky chuckled, and I hummed in response. I closed my eyes, hands braced on the seat behind me as I leaned back, head tilted towards the warmth from the sun’s rays. Bucky was uncharacteristically quiet, and I peeked over at him out of the corner of my eye to see that he had his phone raised. My brow furrowed.

“Did you just take a picture of me?” I asked.

“Yes,” he answered shamelessly. “The opportunity was too perfect not to. I’d be crazy not to capture my two best girls in front of such a beautiful backdrop.”

My heart did a flip in my chest, and I sat up straighter. “Best girls?” I asked, and Bucky shrugged. I shook my head. “Last time I checked, Barnes, I wasn’t your girl.”

“Aren’t you, though?” he murmured, coming to stand next to the bike. “I mean, the rest of the team already pretty much assumes you are.” The fingertips of his flesh hand traced along the subframe of the bike, dangerously close to the inside of my thigh, and I held my breath. “Plus, I wouldn’t have let anyone else ride this thing, and you know it.” He leaned in close, lips grazing the shell of my ear. “Besides,” he whispered, “you know I’d break the jaw of any guy that even looked at you the wrong way, the same way I know you’d tear a strip off any girl that set her sights on me.”

My breath hitched, and my tongue swept over my lips. “Bucky…” I whispered, and his grin was lazy as his flesh hand trailed down my leg over my jeans.

“Tell me you’re my girl,” he murmured. “You know it’s true. I wanna hear you say it.”

I bit my lip. Of course I knew it was true; I’d been his for months, whether the words had been spoken or not. But I was scared to say it, to put an end to this game and make it reality. The flirting and teasing were harmless, but to admit I was his girl felt like an admission that was too dangerous to commit to.

I thought back to what he’d said earlier. “I like to take good care of anything that belongs to me.” It had been meant as an innuendo, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized I really had been his girl this whole time. All the late nights at the gym when we couldn’t sleep, the early breakfasts afterwards, the secret smiles, the way he always gravitated towards me during missions…

I swallowed hard, lifting my eyes to his. “I’m your girl,” I said softly, and the grin that overtook Bucky’s face was like a kid at Christmas. He cupped my face gently, thumb tugging at my bottom lip.

“That’s right,” he murmured. “Now, I want you to tell me what you want.”

“For you to say you’re just as much mine as I am yours,” I said boldly, and Bucky’s eyes sparkled.

“You know I’m yours, doll,” he chuckled. I smirked.

“Does that mean the bike is mine, too, by default?”

Something dark flashed through Bucky’s eyes as a wicked grin slowly lifted his lips. “Not how it works and you know it.” His metal hand reached out to start the bike, flesh hand tucking a loose curl behind my ear. The bike hummed beneath me. “But,” he continued, “I do like how damn good you look on it, and I know you said you liked the feel of all that power between your legs. So I think you’re really gonna like this.”

Bucky’s vibranium hand twisted the throttle, and the bike roared. I don’t know if it was because Bucky already had me strung out, but the feel of the engine revving underneath me had waves of pleasure jolting through me. I fell forward, hands on the fuel tank to brace myself, as my eyes drifted shut. Bucky twisted the throttle again, this time a little harder, and a whimper fell from my lips as the bike vibrated beneath me.

“Look at you,” Bucky marvelled, voice hoarse. “How’s it feel, having all that power between your legs, doll?”

I forced my eyes open and over at him. “Feels pretty damn good,” I admitted, “but I can think of something that would feel a hell of a lot better between my legs.”

Bucky’s jaw went slack, and then he was shutting off the bike and lifting my right leg to pull it across the seat so both legs hung off the left side of the bike and he could fit between them. Vibranium hand on my thigh, his flesh hand reached around the back of my neck to pull my lips to his.

The kiss was hungry, all teeth and tongues and noses bumping against each other. My hands clutched at Bucky’s arms, and when his lips left mine to trail down my jaw and nip teasingly at the skin at my pulse point, I trembled.

“Bucky…” I whined, and he pulled back to look at me with hooded eyes.

“I got you,” he murmured, and then his hands were deftly unbuttoning and unzipping my jeans, tugging them and my lace underwear from my hips and peeling them off my legs. He hooked my right leg over the handlebar of the bike, and then his lips captured mine in another searing kiss, his flesh hand slipping between us to explore my folds. I groaned into the kiss, and I felt Bucky grin against my lips.

“So wet already, sweetheart,” he breathed. “This what you had in mind when you said you could think of something better?”

“Not exactly,” I huffed, biting my lip as Bucky’s fingertips pressed against my clit. He smirked, and then he was kneeling in front of me, hands on my thighs to hold me open to him.

“How about now?” he murmured, before diving in and licking a stripe up my folds, from my entrance to my clit. I cried out, hands flying to his head to tangle in his hair. His lips wrapped around my clit and sucked as the tip of his tongue danced around the bundle of nerves, and already I was so close to falling off the edge, eyes screwed shut and chest heaving.

“Buck…” I panted, nails scraping against his scalp. He grunted, and I tugged harder at his hair, losing patience. “Barnes.”

His eyes flicked up, and I lost my breath; his pupils were blown, tongue still delved into my folds as he regarded me from between my thighs. It was the most sinful thing I’d ever seen, and it sent a fresh flood of heat straight to my core.

“Come here,” I whispered, and in an instant he was up and kissing me. I could taste myself on his tongue as he swiped it across my own tongue, and when my hands started undoing his belt buckle, he growled.

“Turn around,” he demanded, “and lean against the bike.”

I did as he said without question, hopping off the leather seat and turning to bend my body over it, wiggling my ass playfully. Bucky delivered a sharp smack to the flesh and I shrieked, another wave of heat flooding my core. I could hear him unzipping his jeans, and then his knee was sliding between my thighs to spread them further. He slapped my ass again, immediately soothing the stinging flesh by massaging it. I could practically feel my arousal dripping down my thighs.

“Is this what you wanted, doll?” he asked, sliding the tip of his cock through my soaked folds. I moaned, hands clutching the seat below me. “You said you liked powerful things between your legs. Let’s see how you handle this.”

With one forceful thrust he was sheathed inside me. I gasped as he stretched and filled me in a way I never had been before, and he let out a quiet hiss between gritted teeth as my walls clenched around him. He only gave me a moment to adjust before he was pulling out just to force himself back in. It didn’t take long before he’d set an unforgiving pace, driving into me until the air was filled with the sound of flesh on flesh. The grip he had on my hips was bruising, sure to leave marks, but it only added to the pleasure I was feeling; I knew he’d mark me all over if I let him, claiming me as his for everyone to know. His possessiveness should have bothered me, but it only made me want him more.

Bucky’s thrusts started getting sloppier and he fell forward, chest pressed to my back as his flesh hand slipped under my shirt to palm at my breasts over my bra. His lips nipped and kissed at the back of my neck, and I felt my release drawing near.

“Shit…” I whined, and Bucky’s mouth left sloppy kisses over my heated flesh.

“Let go, doll,” he panted. “I’ve got you, it’s alright.”

I chased my release, and when it finally came, I cried out, body tensing before going boneless against the bike. Bucky’s hips stuttered and then I could feel him spilling into me with a low groan. He let his weight relax against me for a handful of seconds before he was lifting off me. With a tiny groan I pushed up off the bike, reaching for my clothes to pull them back on. Bucky grinned at me as he buckled his belt.

“I think I finally found a sound I like better than my bike’s engine,” he teased, and my eyes sparkled.

“And I think I’ve finally found something I’m gonna like riding more than your bike.”

With glittering eyes, Bucky caught me around the waist and pulled me to him to kiss me softly. When we broke apart, his thumb traced lightly over my lips.

“I know we joke around a lot,” he murmured, “but it really would mean a lot to me if you were my girl, (Y/N).”

“I am your girl, Buck,” I assured him, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. “You know I always have been.”

Bucky’s smile was warm, and he nudged me back towards the bike. “C’mon, let’s get back.”

When we got back to the compound, Bucky parked the bike and then we headed to the elevator. I slipped my hand into his, and he looked down, eyes rounded in surprise, before squeezing my fingers gently and smiling.

We walked into the common room, still hand-in-hand. Steve was the first to notice, and his eyes widened before a slow smirk spread across his face.

“Alright, everyone, pay up,” he announced, and everyone’s eyes landed on Bucky and I. Nat and Sam shook their heads as they dug into their wallets, and Tony and Clint groaned. Wanda was grinning as she handed Steve a few bills.

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “What’s going on?” he demanded.

“They all had a pool on when you and I would finally hook up,” I replied with a shrug. Bucky’s eyes narrowed.

“What –”

I set a hand against his chest to calm him. “Easy, big guy,” I chuckled. “Why don’t you just forget about this, and come upstairs with me? I didn’t get to return the favour from earlier.”

Bucky’s eyes darkened, and the common room was filled with groans of annoyance.

“Just because y’all are doing the dirty now, doesn’t mean you have to be public about it,” Sam grumbled. Bucky’s eyes flicked over to him for just a second before returning to me.

“I apologize to everyone in advance,” he murmured to the room without breaking from my gaze. “Turns out my bike isn’t the only one that gets loud when you turn her on.”

“Bucky!” I gasped, cheeks hot and eyes rounded in horror. Before anyone could say anything, Bucky was dragging me out of the room and to the elevator, lips grinning against my throat. I pushed him off me, fixing an unconvincing glare on him. “You’re incorrigible,” I huffed.

“You know you wouldn’t want me any other way.”

Hard as I tried, I couldn’t maintain the glare. “Oh, fuck it,” I muttered, crashing my lips to his. When I pulled away, I was smirking. “Take me upstairs; I wanna see if the biker holds up as well as his bike.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured, wicked smirk on his face. “I can go all night and into the morning.”

I grinned. “Good. Let’s go then, soldier; your girl’s in the mood for a long ride.”

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pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

The Graveyard Shift (Frankie Morales x gn!reader)

Summary: Frankie works overnight shifts at the local mechanic. Tonight, both of you are awake at a late hour.

W/C: 2.3k

Warnings: language, food and eating, talk of not being able to sleep, otherwise fluff

A/N: this idea has been in my head all week I had to! Hope you like it :)

Frankie may be a real insomniac, but tonight you’re feeling like he might have rubbed off on you. Your bed is normally your favorite place, your haven and escape from life. It’s a place to rest and cuddle your teddy bear of a boyfriend, where you can close your eyes and let go of reality. Unfortunately, that glorious disconnect from reality isn’t finding you tonight. You toss and turn in your bed for what feels like hours. Who knows how long it really is?

You try laying on your side. On your back. On your stomach. Legs sprawled out, with no Frankie in the bed to occupy your space. Still, nothing is comfortable. You’re cold without the blankets and hot with them on. The pillows are flat or too squishy. Nothing works.

Frankie’s on the night shift tonight, leaving your bed empty enough for you to toss and turn. Your boyfriend works as a mechanic at a local 24-hour garage, and every week or so he takes the overnight shift. It’s just part of the job. Of course, you don’t mind; he does what he has to. The only downside is the chill in your bed where Frankie’s warm body usually lies.

You try to avoid your phone, checking your alarm clock for the time rather than looking at the blue light and messing up any more chances you have at sleep. But then an hour progresses, and another, and now it’s 1:20 in the morning and sleep is nowhere to be found. You give in and check your phone, sighing.

Frankie can’t possibly be busy. The shop rarely ever gets a car after the sun sets, but it’s worth it to be the only shop in the area open at night. It means more business when someone’s in desperate need. You know he’s awake, and the odds of a car being in the shop now are slim. Maybe talking with him will help you fall asleep.

Deciding to give it a shot, you call his phone. It rings for a few moments, then continues and finally you reach his voicemail, hearing his gentle voice announcing that he’ll call you right back. You frown and set it down only for the phone to ring again. It’s him.

“Hey, babe,” Frankie’s voice speaks through the phone. He sounds tired. Well, you suppose it’s natural. It’s late at night, even if Frankie is practically nocturnal. “Sorry. My hands were covered in grease so I had to wash them before I picked up. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s good,” you inform him, your voice groggy from the lack of sleep you’ve found despite hours of lying here. “Just can’t sleep. How’s work?”

You can hear a metallic clanking as he moves some tools around. “Fine. Just a usual night shift, working on this car that’s an absolute piece of shit. Got oil all over myself.”

The thought makes you smile; Frankie’s grumpy face when something goes wrong, the sigh of exasperation as those dark blue coveralls are stained dark with the car’s oil. “Good job, babe.”

Frankie is rolling his eyes on the other end. You can tell. “Really great job, yeah. How are things at home?”

“Same here. Nothing exciting. Just… can’t sleep and missing you.”

“Missing you too. God, it’s so boring here,” he groans. “I’ll finish this car pretty damn quick then have nothing to do all night. And I’m so goddamn hungry.”

Your eyes light up with an idea and you’re silent as you ponder the idea, long enough for Frankie to be concerned. “What is it?”

“Can I come visit you?” You ask him, a grin crossing your sleepy face. Your eyes are still shut from the weight they carry right now, but your face is clearly happy. “I’ll bring food.

There’s a frown on his face; that much you know for certain. “Babe, it’s late. You should sleep.”

“Francisco, for the love of God. I’m awake right now because I can’t fall asleep. Would you mind a visitor?”

He sighs but you know you’ve won. It makes you smile even wider as you clutch a pillow to your chest. He can barely get the words out before you interrupt. “Great! What are you hungry for?”

There’s another beat of quiet as he thinks. “Let’s order a pizza.”

Late night pizza: Frankie’s biggest weakness besides you. “Perfect. You put in the order and I’ll be there soon. I love you, baby.”

“Love you too. See you then.” Frankie hangs up.

No one else will be around. You know Frankie works these late shifts alone, so you don’t bother to put on anything nicer. Pushing back the covers and bracing for the chill, you stand and slide on a pair of shoes, allowing your pajamas to suffice.

The air is cold as you leave your shared home, and at the last second you grab one of Frankie’s flannels and wrap yourself in it. The night air is chilly around you, the dark sky contrasting the bright lights as you turn on your car. Teeth chattering from the cold, and turning down the air conditioning in your car, you set out on your route to Frankie’s workplace.

There’s no one else on the road besides a spare car or two flying past, neglecting to turn off their high beams for you. It doesn’t matter; if anything, it wakes you up more. When you finally park outside of the building, you rub your eyes desperately hard in hopes of waking yourself up more. It doesn’t really work, but you pretend it does as you pocket your keys and walk inside.

“Hi, I’m here for an oil change?” You call out teasingly into the large garage, entering through an open bay.

Frankie rolls out from beneath a car on a dolley, eyes lighting up at the sight of you. “Don’t even bring that up now.” He sits up, removes his earbuds, and unsnaps the top half of his coveralls, taking off the top half and tying it around his waist. He removes his gloves and meets you halfway into the garage, kissing you softly and laughing as the brim of his hat bumps against your forehead. “Hey, cutie.”

“Hi,” you beam, kissing him once more. “You look hot in this. Very Danny Zuko.”

“Mhm, and this piece of shit is Greased Lightning,” he laughs and pats the hood of the car he was previously beneath. It’s ugly, brown in color and rusted with a grungy looking interior. “I don’t know why they don’t just scrap this thing. It’s not worth the money.”

Your arms remain wrapped around Frankie’s middle, resting your head against his shoulder as you admire the crappy car. “Honestly, I gotta agree,” you laugh and nudge his side so the two of you can move closer to a workbench. “Here.” You offer him the crappy blanket you brought to sit on. “Tell me the best place to set up.”

“Right here, really,” Frankie shrugs and unfolds the blanket, laying it down over the oil-stained concrete. “You get comfortable. I’ll go put on a clean pair of coveralls.” He kisses your head as you sit cross-legged on the blanket, pulling his flannel tighter around yourself. “And stop stealing my clothes!” He calls over his shoulder before retreating into the back.

“You know you love it!” You shout back with a laugh, leaning against the side of the beat-up car.

Out of nowhere, the radio in the shop starts playing. It’s loud, making you jump at the sound of the KISS song that starts blasting. With that, Frankie returns from the back, wearing a clean pair of blue coveralls with that embroidered Catfish patch over his heart. His curls peek out from beneath his cap, and he scratches at the scruff of his beard. “Way to scare the shit out of me!”

“Sorry,” he laughs, adjusting the volume back down from the garage control before making his way over to you. “Just thought we could use some music.”

“I guess,” you grumble, though it’s clear there’s no ill will when he sits next to you and you nuzzle into his side, sighing as he drapes his arm across your shoulders. “Didn’t have to freak me out like that though.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he laughs and kisses your head, leaning back against the car too and letting his head fall back.

No sooner do the two of you get comfortable, nestled into each other’s arms and taking a breath of relaxation, is there a knock at the glass. It’s the pizza delivery, a guy who looks exhausted, just like most normal people would be at this hour. “Be right back.” Frankie kisses your nose and stands, groaning as his joints creak and his back pops.

“Grandpa.” You tease with a grin.

“Stuff it.”

He pays for the order, giving the delivery guy a generous tip for delivering food at this hour of night. Frankie returns with the box and you shimmy in happiness as he opens the box and the smell of the pizza wafts out of the cardboard.

Frankie pulls over a rolling dolley to set the food on, at least somewhat like a table. “Your fine dining experience, my love,” he chuckles as he sets down the box and a stack of napkins next to it. He sits across from you, once again groaning as he makes himself sit cross-legged to match you.

Taking a hold of the crust, you pull out a large slice, the cheese pulling from the center of the pizza. Sighing happily, you tear the cheese apart and pile it on top of the fully-topped pizza, complete with Frankie’s go-to order. Waiting for him and humming to the song, you finally take a bite when he does.

Both of you moan in happiness, laughing a little as each realizes that the other did the same. Once your mouthful of pizza has been swallowed, you grin at Frankie and he grins back. The shop is quiet, the dull rhythm of the oldies station playing in the background. There are no words, but there’s no need for them.

Frankie finishes his slice at about the same time as you, and your hands bump as you both reach for another piece, the one loaded with toppings. “Back off, Morales,” you laugh and swat his hand away, though your hand instantly moves for another piece.

“No, you can have it,” he says, brow furrowing as you leave the piece alone.

“It’s yours. You’re the one working; you deserve it.”

He knows you inside and out. He knows that there’s no arguing when you’ve made the decision, so he takes the piece with a loving “thank you”.

It takes hardly any time for either of you to finish the second piece. Leaning back against the car, your eyes finally shut and you sigh in relaxation. You have food, you have Frankie, and finally you’re starting to get tired. “What time is it now?”

“Late. You can sleep if you want.”

“I’m not tired,” you bluff, though your body slumps against the car, head falling to the side.

Frankie just shrugs and munches on another piece. He can’t help but smile at the sight: you’re in your pajamas and his flannel, falling asleep on the floor of the mechanic shop. He certainly never expected to see such a sight, but he grins at how cute you look like this.

By the time Frankie’s third slice is gone, you’re half-asleep, barely conscious, body holding what little tension and energy you have left. Frankie just leans back, watching you, still smiling at the sight.

He can see it happen when you finally do fall asleep. The tension in your back drifts away, your body slumping down against the car. Your face, which was scrunched in concentration of trying to stay awake, finally slips into the neutrally peaceful state of sleep.

Frankie closes the pizza box, standing and bringing it to the back. He can have some more later if he’s hungry; if not, he’ll send it home with you- later. For now, you need to rest.

His knees and back scream at him as he bends down, but Frankie squats in front of you and wakes you. “Hey, baby. You fell asleep. Come on, get on up and I’ll take you to the couch in the back.”

Your sleep-addled state doesn’t let you argue. You stand, still half-asleep, using Frankie’s hands to help you up. He wraps the clean side of the blanket around you, almost like a burrito, but leaves your legs enough room to walk. Holding onto your arm, so that you don’t trip thanks to your barely-opened eyes, he leads you to the break room in the back.

The old leather couch is beat up and worn, scratched and occasionally ripped from tools left in back pockets and too many years of careless plopping down after a long shift. Frankie makes sure your blanket is swaddled tightly around you and helps you lay down, chuckling at the burrito you make on the couch.

Frankie bends down and kisses your forehead. “I’ll be here if you need me. Just sleep now, babe.”

You murmur something in response, something that might’ve resembled words if you weren’t already fading out again.

Frankie doesn’t go too far, just across the room to the computer. He fires up the machine to check out the schedule for tomorrow, what the store needs to order more of, the usual. The thing that makes it better, maybe even enjoyable, are your soft snores from the couch behind him.

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chelleztjs18 · 3 years

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Lost in Assistance - Ch. 4

Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader

GIF: I do not own this GIF. Found it on gifimage.net

Summary: Y/n is a professional celebrity's personal assistant in Hollywood got hired with two years contract to be the assistant of the famous and talented Elizabeth Olsen / Lizzie by her manager. Both Y/n and Lizzie hate each other since day one, and they have mutual friend. One is as stubborn as the other, will Y/n stay when Lizzie gives attitudes and tries her best to make her quit before the contract ends?

Warning: fluff, angst, smut (in future chapters), swearing words ( +18 only)

All chapters

Today is Wednesday but not just a regular Wednesday. It’s the day of the meeting with Elizabeth Olsen and her manager, Jane Vernon.

Your phone alarm sounds break the silence in your room slowly but sure it gets louder enough to motivate you to start the day. You woke up with mixed feelings. Excited yet nervous at the same time. You turn on some music. Sunset Lover - Petit Biscuit starts to play and you get ready. After a fresh shower, you put on just enough nude color makeup then you go to your walk-in closet to pick a close-fitting button up white shirt with burgundy stripes and black slim fit women's suit and trousers with burgundy open toe high heels that match with your nails color since it’s your favorite color. You get your side parted wavy medium length burgundy colored hair done that makes it flow down to your shoulder. You may be the type of girl who doesn’t really like to put on much makeup, but you take your hair, clothings and nails pretty seriously as well as your perfume.

As soon as you are all ready and putting your heels on while sitting on a little sofa in the middle of your closet, your phone rings. You guessed that it’s Mitchel and you are right.

“Good morning darling.” You answered as you continued to put on your shoes. “Oh wow, that's the spirit! Good morning love! Are you excited for today? Are you ready?” said Mitchel on the other end. “Well, yeah but no but also yeah that I’m all ready to go.” You replied while you took another look in front of the mirror and slowly twirled to make sure you looked good. Then you spray a little bit of perfume and you are ready to go downstairs while still on the phone. “Okay great. I will see you over there, I want to say hi to Jane. Everything will be okay. Don't be nervous, okay Y/n?” Mitchel tried to make you feel better. “Thank you Mitchel. I appreciate it. I’m leaving soon so I’ll see you there. Bye.” You grab your medium size leather purse and go downstairs.

As usual, your mom is already awake, sitting on the big living room couch. “Morning Ma. I have a meeting this morning. It shouldn’t be that long but you know Mitchel, he might want to have brunch after that but just call me if you need anything, okay? Love you Ma.” You gave her a hug and went to the garage. “Okay hun. Good luck. Love you too.”

You put on your prescription aviator style sunglasses, blast some music to amp you up started by White Lies - Odesza then start driving. The sun was up but not too bright, the traffic wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be so you arrived there a little too early.

As you walked into the lobby you saw a coffee shop so you decided to get some ice coffee for you. Just when your order is ready and you are about to grab it, you notice a familiar face whose order is ready too. It was Lizzie grabbing her order. Eye contact was caught between you two and you gave a smile just to be friendly and she replied with a nod and small smile. You recognize her even though her long dirty blonde hair flawlessly covers both sides of her face and she is wearing sunglasses that were intended to cover her face so she won’t be recognized. You both walk towards the elevator and blend in with a group of people in the elevator. You saw her pressed the floor button then she dived back into whatever she was doing with her phone. The elevator stopped on your floor, some people went out to go to other offices which are on the same floor as Vernon’s office. Lizzie went out as well but she stopped in front of the elevator to answer a phone call so she didn’t know that you both actually have the same destination to meet Jane.

After you greeted and talked to Aaron, Jane’s assistant, he informed you to wait in the waiting room. Few minutes later, you heard that Lizzie came in and was told the same thing as you were. She is sitting on the chair across you talking on the phone with her best friend about the plan to meet up after the meeting, while you are browsing on your phone and enjoying your ice coffee you can feel that sometimes she takes a quick glance once or twice at you without knowing who you are and why you are there.

“I don’t even wanna be here. I still think it’s a stupid idea to get me another personal assistant. This already made me upset to begin with and it’s just gonna make me not like this person already even though I know it’s not her fault to get hired by Jane.” She tried to talk as quietly as possible but not quite enough for you not to be able to hear it. Aaron came and told her that she can come into the meeting room. “I gotta go, I’ll see you later after the meeting. Bye.”

She hangs up then proceeds to follow Aaron to the meeting room. After what you heard, you can only chuckle to yourself knowing this is not gonna be easy work between you both. Aaron comes for your turn. “Ms. Y/l/n, they are ready for you. You can come this way.” Aaron guides you to the meeting room. You smiled and thanked him as he opened the door for you.

You come into the meeting room that has large windows around it that give natural light and a pretty sky view decorated with clouds and top of skyscrapers of L.A with the trails of the streets and cars that look so small from up here. You see Lizzie is sitting next to Jane with Mitchel sitting in front of them, parted by a big rectangle glass table.

“Y/n darling! You made it!” Mitchel came to you and gave you a cheek to cheek kiss as always. “Hi Mitch. I’m glad to be here.” You smiled.

“Come, let me introduce you to these fabulous ladies. Jane, Lizzie this is Y/n Y/l/n. She is my best friend slash the best personal assistant you are looking for. Y/n, this is Elizabeth Olsen and her manager Jane Vernon.” Mitch proudly introduces you to them.

“Nice to meet you Y/n, Mitch talked a lot about you once he knew I was looking for a professional assistant. I hope you don't mind me calling you by your first name.” While Jane offered her hand for a friendly handshake yet felt so formal, you can see from the corner of your eyes Lizzie’s jaw dropped a little, looking at you up and down realizing you might have heard what she said on the phone earlier about you. “The pleasure is mine Mrs. Vernon and yeah I don't mind you calling me by my first name” You gave a firm professional handshake and smiled. “You can call me Jane.”

You then slightly turn your head to Lizzie and her beautiful green eyes are now so easily noticeable by you without her sunglasses on. “Ms. Olsen, It’s nice to meet you.” You smiled and tried to stay professional even though you know how she feels about this meeting and about you. There is an awkward vibe from Lizzie towards you since she thinks you heard her conversation but her stubbornness about this whole thing is bigger than the awkwardness itself that made the friendly Lizzie respond a little cold to you. “Thanks, same here.” She gave you a quick handshake but you can feel the softness of her skin even though just for a few seconds.

The four of you take a seat. “So Y/n, this is not an interview because practically you are already hired because I read your resume plus the reference from Mitch here. I gotta admit, it’s pretty impressive. Lots of years of experience working in this field, you have worked with big names in Hollywood. You speak five languages and that’s another big plus. We have this meeting just so we can sign the contract and agreement. I believe Mitch already gave you the details of Do’s and Don'ts and our expectation specially from Lizzie here.” Jane explained while she was looking at your resume then slid some papers in front of you on the table for you to take a look at it.

“Well, to be honest what I wanted was actually simple, I don’t want any new personal assistant but Jane insisted on giving it a try, so here I am. So, I hope you are as great as your resume Y/n to make my try worth it.” Lizzie said it in a quite firm tone with the best pretend smile she can do. Deep down she hoped what she just said would’ve just made you change your mind.

“Ha Ha Lizzie was just joking. Isn’t she funny?” Jane laughed awkwardly and tried to give Lizzie a look about what she said.

“Is that so, Ms.Olsen? Don’t you worry about it. I hope the way I work and the way I do my job suits you.” You gazed at her eyes before you gave a fake smile. You tried to remind yourself in your mind that you respect Mitch and don’t want to put him in a hard time with his client even though Jane is a good friend of his otherwise your reaction would be different.

“This is the contract, it will be only for two years but it might be for less than that. If it does change to less than two years, there will be a notice in advance. It can also be terminated early if there is a mutual decision by both parties. All of this is written in it. It says you acknowledged and agreed with what I just informed you. You can sign on every section that’s marked X” Jane explained all the details while she showed each point. You read everything, gazed at Lizzie’s mesmerizing green eyes and gave a little smirk to her then signed each section. As you can see, this clearly upset Lizzie.

“Okay, everything is good. In this envelope, there are all Lizzie’s schedules, addresses and numbers. Plus all lists what she likes and dislikes. Sometimes you need to drive with her, sometimes you don't have to. I’m sure you know the drill, but just a friendly reminder that everything is confidential, especially all Marvel related. You can start on Friday. I guessed that’s all. Welcome to our family Y/n. We are thrilled that you joined us here, right Lizzie?” Jane finalized everything with another handshake with you and Mitchel. “Yeah, sure. Now if you guys excuse me, I gotta go right now. Sorry.” Lizzie put a tiny smile in the corner of her lips, waved goodbye then left in a rush and looked upset.”

As soon as Lizzie left and the door was closed, Jane apologized. “Ummm, Mitchel, Y/n I’m truly sorry for how Lizzie acted earlier. Trust me, she is actually a very sweet, genuine and friendly person. That’s the reason I have been her manager and agent for years, she’s like a sister to me. It’s just that she sometimes can be very determined or stubborn with what she wants or what she doesn't want and not afraid to show it but I’m sure she will slowly understand why I need to have Y/n’s help. She just has anxiety when she has to adjust or deal with new people. I hope you guys can understand.”

“Don’t worry about that Jane. I have met Lizzie and I know how sweet she is. Like I told you before, Y/n has her own way of working and don't be surprised with how straight forward she is plus she doesn't sugar coat things. She is eccentric in a good way. Right Y/n?” He nudged your arm and smiled.

“Haha. yeah sure Mitch.” You answered jokingly. “I guess we better get going. Thank you Jane. Nice seeing you as always.” You and Mitch bid farewell to Jane and left. “Bye guys. See you again.” Jane walked back to her office room.

“Mitchel, what the hell was that? Why did she act like that? On top of all, why didn’t you tell me that she actually didn’t want an assistant?!” You tried to whisper so nobody at the office heard as you both were walking out of the office.

“Yeah about that, I forgot to tell you. I’m sorry. “ Mitch squinted his eyes waiting because he was worried how your reaction was gonna be.

“You are lucky we are best friends otherwise I wouldn’t sign that contract and would’ve said NO on the spot after what she said. I already don’t like her. This is not gonna be easy.” You said it jokingly but it has a little bit of truth in it.

“Haha. I love you too!” Mitch replied happily, knowing you would help him no matter what. Both of you parted, continue with your days.

Ch. 5

#elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen fanfic #lizzie olsen #lizzie olsen x reader #lizzie olsen fanfic #elizabeth olsen fluff #lizzie olsen fluff #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff fluff #scarlet witch x reader #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #slow burn

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wearywinchester · 3 years

Text

Something Old and Something New — Part Three

Mechanic!Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When life takes a turn and you take an unexpected break from college in Stanford with your best friend Sam, you return home to your job at your family’s co-owned garage. You return home to work alongside the guy you thought you hated—Dean Winchester.

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: angst, mild swearing, mentions of alcohol, jealousy, arguing, fluff

Today was the day.

The day your best friend Sam would be back in town any minute now. The day you’d see the expression to match the words he’d spoken to you on the phone just a few nights back. You told him about Stanford, about the way you felt uncertain of your return there and the way you felt about finishing your degree. Of the way you felt you might not have wanted to go there in the first place. Well, you did, but the beginning always seemed to be different.

But you told him. You finally broke it to him after days and days of stewing on it since you’d come back home, after days and weeks and months of letting it simmer back at college. No matter how much you gave yourself a pep talk for that conversation, told yourself it’d be fine and no matter how many deep breaths you took, you still found yourself shaking as you held your phone to your ear.

He was just as understanding as you thought he’d be, a quality Sam Winchester had that would never falter. You could hear it in the way he sighed on the other end, not one of disappointment but one sounding as though he’d already known this phone call was going to happen. You were sure he did, you don’t think you were great at hiding your discontent, but it only did so much to soothe your nerves on the subject. Because truthfully, it was still a big deal, still a big decision that you seemingly already made for yourself without having gone through with it.

But the weight that sat heavy on your shoulders felt a little lighter, that tension easing a little more.

Now, now you’re at Benny’s house, lights strung from the back porch just waiting to be switched on in the evening hours. The ones he’d used each and every time an event like this happened in the warmer months. The grill was going and cooking some of the best food you’d ever have, the smell of it filling the air and making its way into the house. Lawn chairs were set up in the backyard as family and friends made their way in until the whole group had arrived and filled the late Saturday afternoon air with the boisterous cheer that came with them.

Mary had brought her family famous homemade apple pies, a slice already taken out of one of them with only Dean to blame. There’s no way he would admit to it on his own despite being the pie enthusiast of the bunch, not a chance, but you knew by the scent of cinnamon on his breath when he hugged you, by the residue you swiped from the corner of his mouth that it was him. Mary knew just by the look on her son’s face, getting him a light smack to the back of his head for digging in.

Bobby had brought more than enough beer and Jody just the same but you were sure the accidental blunder wouldn’t be a problem with this group.

It was shaping up to be a nice afternoon, the sun shining goldenly and the fresh air warm, a gentle breeze sifting through at just the right speed. The garage was closed for the weekend, offering a little break from some work for the first time in a few weeks. Benny’s old radio sat tucked on the back porch, classic rock playing as expected but it was more so playing softly in the background of everyone’s conversations more than anything at that point.

You wouldn’t miss these occasions for anything.

It wasn’t until then that your eyes laid on the younger Winchester as he walked out of the back door to join everyone else, a grocery bag of chips and pretzels in his hand and a smile on his face at the sight of his family talking amongst themselves in the comfort of the yard.

You were the first to get on your feet and hug him, arms tight around him and he nearly dropped the stuff in his hand. It was safe to say you missed him over the time you’d spent away from Stanford, and you were sure that much was obvious.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you missed me,” he chuckles, his free arm wrapping around you. You squeeze him all the more tightly, a hum having been your response as your smile stays the same. “And here I thought you abandoned me.”

You looked up at him then, lips pursed and gaze narrowed. “You know that wouldn’t happen in a million years.”

“I know, I know,” he says, eyes rolling lightheartedly as he smiles.

“Well if it isn’t my baby brother,” a voice sounds, that ever familiar voice, rumbling just behind you deeply.

“Do you have to say that every time?” Sam huffs, humor on the edge of his words as the corner of his mouth quirks up, his brow raised in an effort to maintain at least a little annoyance at his brother’s choice of words.

“You’re damn right I do. What kinda big brother do I look like?”

Sam tilted his head, biting the inside of his cheek as he set the bag down. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

The humor in Dean’s expression dwindled in that moment at Sam’s words, lips pursing before the corner of his mouth tugs upwards once more. “C’mere, Sammy.”

He tugs him in close for a hug and a pat on his back, his smile quick to return.

Things went as good as ever the more the day went on, the afternoon slipping into the evening as the burgers and barbecue rapidly became less and less until it’d been eaten. Dean had been responsible for at least three burgers and another two slices of pie, having you hot on his heels in a close second.

An old football had been tossed around, paired with a game or two of catch that’d become very close to turning competitive once Dean got ahold of his old mitt and you found yourself taking a turn up against him. Turns out you were far better than he expected, far better than you let on, and the surprise on his face had given you more than enough amusement.

You’ve got a few tricks up your sleeve and Dean was quickly starting to realize that.

Now you’d been looking for him as the sun dipped down lower in the sky, the chilly evening air beginning to take hold.

You laid your eyes on the green eyed Winchester, the one you’d found yourself wanting to see since he’d disappeared earlier that day after he gave Sam the hug you knew he’d get. You weren’t exactly sure just when it was that he’d run off, or if he even had for that matter, but your habit of scanning the room for him had left you coming up short each and every time you’d done it until now.

You caught sight of him on the back porch, the empty beer bottle in his hand being tossed in the recycling bin as he stood over the near empty cooler. It wasn’t until you’d walked up to him with crossed arms that he looked up, squinting against the setting sun to get a glimpse of you.

“Would you look who it is?” He says, digging around for the beer he likes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs his shoulders, a smile playing on his lips.

“Feel like I haven’t seen you all day, sweetheart,” he says as he swipes another beer from the cooler before closing the lid, standing upright again.

“And here I thought you’d run off ‘cause I beat you at your own game of ball,” you said, watching his eyes roll as you look up at him with a half-grin. “Seriously, what’s going on with you?”

He looked up at you briefly, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards as a laugh puffed out through his nose, one that’s half-humorous.

“Nothing,” he says.

You nod with a hum, entirely unconvinced as you stood there in front of him and he knew that, could tell by that look you’re giving him. You’d be right not to believe him, but he won’t admit it. He wouldn’t admit to the jealousy that simmered in the very pit of his stomach each time Sam stole your attention. He wouldn’t because he felt stupid for feeling that way. For feeling it over the fact that you’d spent most of the afternoon with Sam the moment he’d arrived.

He was your best friend, he knew it’d happen and he knew it with the way you talked about Sam, eyes bright and smile beaming at the mention of his brother. It made his stomach twist and churn and he knew it shouldn’t have, he knew he shouldn’t have been feeling that tight coil of jealousy building within himself over the mere thought of it but his mind took every scenario and ran with it. He felt childish but he couldn’t help it either.

He found himself wanting to be selfish and have you all to himself, but part of him told himself that’d be absurd. You were Y/n, the one he bickered with and the one that got on his nerves on a good day. But he knew that was changing, he knew it from the moment he started thinking about you more often than not, by the very way he enjoyed your company, having realized there might never have been a time he didn’t save for when you were kids who picked on each other.

He knew it was different and maybe that was the problem, and maybe he did run off for a little while just to ignore the way you spent time with Sam.

“You’re a terrible liar, you know,” you said, nudging his boot with your shoe.

“Is that right, sweetheart?” He asks, taking a sip from his beer, then another.

“Yeah, it is, Winchester,” you say, a smile pulling at your lips. You glanced over your shoulder, eyeing two empty lawn chairs across the yard. “I don’t suppose you’re too grumpy to sit with me, are you?”

Your smile widens as you watch his brows furrow, a scoff leaving his lips as you turn on your heel and head towards the chairs.

“Grumpy? Who says I’m grumpy?” He says behind you.

You sigh as you sit down, trying not to take notice of the way he pulls his chair just a little closer to your own as you sit paces away from the fire Benny and Bobby sparked up in the pit. He tucked his beer in the cup holder, crossing one ankle over the other before tipping his head back against the back of his chair, a smile on his lips.

“What?” You ask, the curiosity in your tone as you sit up a little straight.

“Nothin’,” he mumbles, head shaking as his eyes fall closed for a moment.

“Dean, spit it out,” you say, swatting lightly at his shoulder.

You watched the grin on his lips widen a fraction, lips pursing to try and hide it but failing miserably. “It seems to me like you miss my company.”

It was your turn to scoff as you rolled your eyes, “don’t get ahead of yourself, Winchester.”

But he knew better than to believe that, because you can deny it all you want but the tone in your voice says otherwise. He can hear your smile in your words, and upon stealing a glance at you, he sees that very smile as you shake your head in faux annoyance.

You tug your flannel tighter around yourself as you stretch your legs for a moment, taking notice of the way the arms of your chairs had been brushing over top of each other, of the way you’d been close enough to bump elbows. You tried not to think of the fact that he’d put himself that much closer to you on his own, for reasons you hadn’t been aware of.

You tried not to let that flutter in your stomach go awry, tried not to let it burst into more like a kid with a crush because that would simply be foolish. Tried not to dwell on the fact that he’d been sitting with you, at the way you’d made him smile, otherwise your cheeks would burn and burn, hotter than the fire in front of you.

The transition between two people determined to annoy the other to the best of their abilities, and the way the two of you acted now had been one you didn’t quite know how you got to. You came back to Kansas with dread knotting up inside your stomach at the mere mention of the older Winchester, the very thought of him having you roll your eyes. To be fair, you still do that quite a bit, but now you find yourself seeking out his company when he strays a little too far. Now you find yourself smiling like a fool in his presence in a way that has you hiding it behind wit and humor.

You had no idea he’d felt the very same way.

You looked over to him, eyes on him as he looked ahead. The glow of the fire danced across his skin, shadowing every contour of his face, illuminating the sheen of sweat glimmering lightly over the bridge of his freckled nose.

You watched as he took a swig of his beer before putting the bottle in its rightful spot, his gaze shifting to you in a moment’s notice.

“What?” He asked, the single word amused as he caught you staring.

The corner of your mouth darts upward and you look away, head shaking and heart fluttering. “Nothin’.”

You heard his snort, knew he was shaking his head just as much as you were. “If anyone’s the terrible liar here, it’s you, sweetheart.”

It’s your turn to laugh as you look at your lap, a moment passing before you look over at him once more. “‘M serious. It’s nothing, De.”

“Right, right. Whatever you say.”

He caught your gaze as his smile mirrored your own, green eyes glimmering against the light of the flames just feet away as those dimples by the very corners of his mouth appear ever so slightly. The teasing behind your grin softened considerably to a genuine smile, his knee nudging yours in a lightheartedly action to accompany his words.

It wasn’t until that moment that you were aware of just how close you’d been, close enough to feel his breath sweep over your lips and to smell the cinnamon of the pie he’d eaten. Close enough to have your cheeks burning over it.

But the moment was only that.

“Y/n.” You cleared your throat as you sat a little straighter in your chair, head turning in the direction of Sam’s voice. He stood there, hand running through his hair as he suppressed a yawn. “Ready to head home for the night?”

You smiled softly at him, nodding. You missed the way the softness of Dean’s grin had fallen as his jaw tensed ever so slightly, the inside of his cheek sitting between his teeth.

You were in a daze for a brief moment as you sat on the edge of your seat before you turned to Dean, hand reaching up to grab his chin softly in a lighthearted pinch, the pad of your thumb resting over the dimple sitting pretty in it.

“Night, Dean,” you say, getting up from where you sat with him.

He smiles softly, swallowing thickly as he watches you stand there. He swallowed down that feeling bubbling up and threatening to spill out. Because it was him that you rode with to Benny’s house that day, listening to Zeppelin with the windows down. It was him that you’d been seemingly content with riding along with, and it was him that had plans to drive you back home. And now those plans had changed and there he sat by himself as you smiled that smile at him with his brother just over your shoulder.

“Night, sweetheart.”

—

Things were different.

Things were vastly different from what they were nearly three weeks ago back at your Uncle Benny’s. And things were a whole new kind of different from the time you first came back to that very day in question when Sam had come back into town.

You don’t know what it was, couldn’t narrow down the possibilities of what could have changed between you and Dean, what could have changed him. Maybe it was something that you’d never end up knowing in the long run, and maybe it was nothing at all. Maybe the days and weeks you’d spent working alongside one another without so much of that bickering, no matter how lighthearted, was just that.

He was happy as ever to see his brother, you knew for a fact he would be because that’s how it’s always been. But ever since that get-together, it was different.

“What is your problem?”

He snorted, his laugh void of humor as he looked away, tongue swiping along the inside of his cheek that was all telling of the anger that was simmering in the pit of his stomach.

“I don’t have one, sweetheart,” he says, the nickname less than fond in that moment as he tossed an empty bottle of oil in the trash to his right, taking the rag in his hand to wipe away the little bit of mess he made having been far too distracted thinking about you with that crease between his brows, that brooding frown on his lips.

You knew for a fact his words have been anything but truthful, the complete opposite as you stand in front of him, watching his attention pull from you in favor of looking under the hood of the car he’d been working on. A job that easily could have been done by now had his mind not been so preoccupied with the very person who’d asked him what his problem was.

He knew you saw right through him, he was a terrible liar when it came to you and he knew that. It’s not like it hadn’t been so terribly obvious that he had one, it was just as close to saying he did without actually saying it.

You saw it with the way he didn’t linger at the front desk as often to talk to you, to swipe the candy you’d had in that jar you kept just to see you roll your eyes. You saw it with the way he’d struck up fewer conversations, more about work and less about personal talk. At the crease etched deeper between his brows and the dimples pressed at the corners of his mouth in a display of his discontent. It was different and it was quiet.

Actions all staved off by the occasional smile. He still brought you coffee and he still waited for you to drive off first at closing time. But it was lined with an edge of tension.

“You’re lying,�� you say, brows furrowing as you cross your arms over your chest.

“I’m not lying, Y/n. I’m busy,” he mumbles, tugging his hand away and shaking it out when his finger gets poked by a jagged car part.

“You’re being weird, Dean,” you press, insistent to pull whatever he’s got going on out of him to talk about it. He is acting weird and you know it. If the days and weeks and months and years you’d known Dean Winchester, he hasn’t quite acted like this.

He straightens his stance a bit more as he turns to face you with a glance on the brink of being annoyed, a huff blowing past his lips. You simply raise your brow in your own persistence, lips pursed lightly.

“Are you done?”

“Not until you tell me why you’re acting weird. And don’t tell me there’s nothing ‘cause I know you a little better than that,” you say, watching his brows drop from how they were raised, those very dimples by his mouth deepening as he stands mere inches from you and casts his gaze down at you.

“Just having an off day. ‘S that a good enough answer for you, sweetheart?” He asks, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

“No,” you say. You watch as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head, turning in his heel with a chuckle as he continues his work. “Considering you’ve been like this ever since Benny’s barbecue, it’s not a good enough answer.”

“Then tell me, Y/n. My baby brother came home from college for the first time in months. Do enlighten me on what it was that day that could possibly make me Oscar the Grouch,” he says, flashing you a look.

You heave a sigh, heavy and impatient as you bite the inside of your cheek, feeling as though you’re going in circles with no end in sight. His stubbornness was stronger than ever in that moment as he brushed everything off, as he acted nonchalant despite the clear irritation simmering away within him.

“Would it kill you to be straightforward, Dean?” You ask, your own annoyance wrapping around every word. “Seriously, what’s your problem?”

“Why don’t you ask Sammy?” He says, voice low and muffled from where he stood facing away from you.

You frown in confusion at the question. “What?”

“I said why don’t you ask Sammy?” He repeats, and now you’re sure you heard him correctly as he turns his head but still avoids your gaze.

You try to make sense of what he’d just said, standing still in your spot as you watch his white-knuckled grip on the edge of the car’s front end. Of the crease between his brows and the tension increasing in his jaw that told you he wasn’t joking, that he was in fact very serious.

It took a second, a minute even, before it clicked for you. “Wait a minute, are you jealous?”

He laughs then, bitter as he wipes the grease from his hands on the tattered rag he kept tucked in his back pocket.

“You think I’m jealous of my brother?” He says, tone full of a surprise you knew wasn’t real.

“Yeah, Dean, I do,” you say, gazing up at him. “You’ve been acting weird ever since I told you Sam was coming home to visit, and now it makes sense why.”

“Easy there, detective. Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he says, trying his hardest to stave off the way his heart had been hammering in his chest and the way he wanted so badly to admit that maybe he was, even though it’d been painfully obvious.

He wouldn’t though, he’d keep being stubborn because he felt that was in his best interest to be.

“You always do this,” you huff, your frustration evident.

“Do what?”

“You keep skirting around the obvious, Dean. You always do that when you don’t want to talk about something. I know that about you. You can say otherwise all you want, I don’t really care,” you say, voice rising slightly in your anger as you feel your cheeks burn. Your chest heaved a bit more than normal, heart pounding in your chest as you stared up at him. “Why can’t you just admit it?”

His gaze on you is stoic, nostrils flaring and lips still pursed as he looks down at you. The flurry of emotions he felt was a little harder to see outwardly, but you knew they were there. You knew it just like you knew there had to be a myriad of thoughts running through his head, but what they’d been about was something you didn’t.

Moments passed like that, seconds, until his expression changed, a humorless chuckle rumbling in the back of his throat as he shook his head.

“For not wanting to be a lawyer, you damn sure know how to argue,” he said, a bite behind his words that had your cheeks burning hotter.

Now it’s your turn to laugh, partly out of surprise at his words, and partly to stave off the tears that pressed heavily behind your eyes the more you thought about them. The hurt you felt in that moment had struck you harder than you cared to admit, not so much at his dig as the very fact that you were arguing with him to begin with.

It wasn’t unlike the two of you to toss around witty comments about the other, to bicker over anything, most often lightheartedly. The two of you had been like that with each other your entire lives. But this, this was different. It was different because you enjoyed his company more often than not. It was different because you knew you didn’t hate him, you don’t think you ever did.

“Maybe I will go back to Stanford with Sam. You know, since I’m such an outstanding lawyer.”

You watch as he nodded, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards as he looked away for a moment and really thought about what you said. Of the very words spoken out of anger just to make him angry and it worked. He didn’t know the meaning of your words other than the way they fed the jealousy brewing in the pit of his stomach, a feeling that was rapidly beginning to boil over.

“That’s a great idea. Hell, I’ll even pack your bags,” he says, smug and entirely amused as he watches your brows furrow.

It wasn’t until you shook your head, it wasn’t until he saw the way your eyes glossed over and your expression turned angrier in an attempt to hide that vulnerability that his amusement dissolved. Without another word, you swiped your keys from the counter, strong-willed as you twist the doorknob and leave, slamming the door behind you.

His jaw tenses and his lip quivered under his anger, flinching at the action and fist clenching as he turned away from the door as he stood alone. Before he could give it second thought he threw the rag in his hand down, arm sweeping over his workbench and sending every tool that sat on it to clatter to the ground in a heap of metallic clinks that echoed in the empty garage. He ran his hands through his hair and drug them down his face, exhaling a huff.

He had you. He had you and he blew it.

—

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#dean winchester #dean winchester series #dean winchester angst #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x you #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester imagine

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hotchscvm · 4 years

Text

thank u, next (ft. loki)

Warnings: angst, swearing, jealousy, mentions of sex

Word count: 4.5k

Summary: A new team member in the group shakes things up for the super soldier.

Or: In which Steve casts you aside for a Carter only to regret his decision when he sees you with the God of Mischief.

"Yeet."

Swiveling your chair, you saw the empty pint of ice cream hit garbage can, bouncing off the rim and dropping on the floor with a light thump. You looked at Tony, shaking your head. "You've been hanging out with Peter too much."

"Why, thank you." Tony replied, smirking at you. "So, tell me, you sexy vixen, how do you feel with Thor bringing Loki? You were quiet during the whole argument that almost ended with Barton ripping out his eye."

You shrugged, the heels Tony had bought earlier drawing your attention to your feet. "I'm fine. I don't really care, I mean, I wasn't with you guys when New York happened so I don't really think I get to have an opinion about whether the mind-controlled God of Lies gets a spot in the team."

"You realize your on the team, right? I'm pretty sure your opinion matters especially with the mass murderer joining." Tony replied, accidentally hitting himself with the candy cane in his hands. "I really thought you were going to side with Cap on this one. You always do."

It wasn't a secret that Steve Rogers wasn't completely on board with the plan. That was pushing it; in other words: Steve Rogers despised the plan. If he could kill it, he would've. When Thor had proposed the plan to bring Loki on the team (a punishment from Odin himself)—trying to convince everyone he was "good" now—less than a handful had let him continue speaking. The rest wanted to riot. You had just sat there, a smirk on your face as you watched the six of them fight with each other while Fury shook his head, looking like a disappointed father.

When everyone had came to an agreement on Loki's trial period, there had been pages of rules on what he was restricted on doing including magic and stabbing. Of course, it was very specific so even the God of Mischief couldn't find a loophole. Maybe he could if he tried, which he probably will.

Clicking your tongue, you shrugged, ignoring the little pang in your chest. "Not on this. I'm smart enough to see that there's more reward than risk to have Loki on the team. For example: he's not bad to look at."

Tony choked on his candy cane, coughing up a large piece. With wide eyes, he studied you in silence, trying to figure out if you had been joking. "Are you serious? We should bring you to Helen so you can get your head checked. There's a chance you might have a concussion from the last mission."

"You have eyes, you can see how regal he is despite not genuinely being born royal. And those cheekbones..." you trailed off, biting your lip at Loki's handsome features. Tony raised an eyebrow, slowly shaking his head. "Not that his perfect bone structure justifies all the people he's killed. I'm just very observant being an avenger and all."

"Uh-huh, yeah, yeah, yeah, sure." Tony mumbled, leaning back on his chair, his eyes narrowing after your confession. "Ms. Natalia Romanoff didn't get the chance to tell me what happened between you and old Capsicle."

Rolling your eyes, you spun around in your chair, facing away from the nosy billionaire. "There's not that much to tell. We talked, we liked each other, then the sun came up and reality set in as the form of Sharon Carter. It didn't take long for him to ditch me to go for Peggy's niece. Anyways, been there, done that. People change."

"You're not the same girl I met." Tony stated. "On that note, Rogers' old brain is still defrosting and he's getting older so I don't think he knows how stupid he is...yet."

"And I'm not going to wait for him to find out." you muttered, a loud sound coming from the big yard. Looking through the garage window, you saw the blinding light before two figures in different colored capes appeared, the blinding light ruining the fresh-cut grass. Beaming at Tony, you got up. "Want to plan a party with me?"

"You say that like I'd have the ability to say no. Tonight?" Tony replied, grinning at thought of loud electronic dance music and booze.

Getting up, the stilettos clicked on the floor, your perfect pedicure peeking through the hole. Smiling, you walked towards the door. "Well, we are in the presence of two Gods. I think it's only fair we celebrate like it."

"I'm putting Party in the USA on the track-list!"

Rushing to the lawn where the rest of the team gathered, your mood was lightened by the sight of the golden haired retriever in disguised as a jacked God. Ignoring the others, you threw yourself at Thor, the God of Thunder catching you, arms tightening around your body. You let out a breathless laugh, momentarily forgetting your idiotic plan to avoid Steve. "Thor!"

Thor guffawed, lifting you off the ground, shouting your name in glee before letting you breathe again. "My favorite avenger! Miss me?"

"Duh." you responded, glancing at Loki, who had magically changed into an all-black suit, his shoulder length raven-colored hair slicked back. His eyes narrowed slightly at the team who had defeated him. He looked even better in person. "So, that's Loki."

Natasha spoke up before either Asgardian could. She stepped closer, observing him with you. "Not sure. He isn't as smug as before—"

"And he's missing those horrendous reindeer horns he was wearing." Clint chimed in, crossing his arms. His hate for Loki—which had increased when he found out the man who once controlled him was coming to the team—was almost as deep as Steve's. "He looks like a witch in that black suit."

Thor snickered, releasing Loki from the handcuffs that held him. "As you all know, my adopted brother's punishment from Father is to help Earth's Mightiest Heroes. Loki understands all the rules, and he will so follow them accordingly. Isn't that right, brother?"

Loki rolled his eyes, sighing before reluctantly nodding. "Yes, I will."

"Let me make this clear, Loki." Steve stepped up, Sharon right behind him, face composed. You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes at the couple. "If you break one rule, no matter how small, you will be sent back to Asgard and face Odin's alternate punishment. Just so you're clear, we won't hesitate to send you back."

The God of Mischief smirked, feeling smug knowing he could push the super soldier's buttons. "Of course, Captain. I wouldn't dream of breaking the rules enforced."

Everyone could sense the sarcasm and mockery in his voice, all of them tensing. Thor sighed, clapping his brother on the back, the force making Loki take a steps forward. "Come on, brother. I'll show you your quarters before you get punched by Lady Natasha."

Without waiting for Loki to answer, Thor practically pulled Loki's arm off, pulling him towards the building, crossing the ruined lawn that Tony would bitch about later. Everyone followed them, staying a few feet back, wary of the new team member. You noticed Steve stealing glances at you, quickly moving away from Sharon's side and made his way to you.

Without being too obvious, you squeezed your way between Bruce and Natasha, snaking your arms between there's, hoping it would give Steve the impression not to talk to you. Ever. Natasha threw you a sympathetic smile, squeezing your wrist while Bruce raised an eyebrow, clearly confused.

Thor continued talking about the new compound, leading his brother to the entrance while pointing out installments that would've seemed impressive to a simple "midgardian."

He might've unconsciously murdered people but he kinda thicc.

At that exact moment, Loki turned around, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours. His smirk grew, glancing between you and Steve before turning back. It had been so quick that you weren't sure it even happened. The group scattered as soon as they stepped a foot inside; Bruce heading to the lab, Steve following him while Sharon split and headed up to Medbay, Natasha hitting the gym with Clint, leaving you alone with Thor and Loki.

Unfortunately, Thor's room had been across yours, the empty room next to yours becoming Loki's so both a spy and a god could keep an eye on the trickster. Both Tony and Steve had fought on that, Steve concerned about your safety while Tony argued back, telling him you could keep yourself safe. If not, Thor was there. That had angered you; Steve didn't think you were capable of fighting off Loki if it came to it, and that made you roll your eyes at him, exiting the room.

"...and this will be your quarters. Decorate it any way you want, just no magic." Thor continued, reaching the area of your rooms. It was a big arc, the area looking like a semi-circle with three doors spaced evenly out. "My chambers is across Lady Y/N's, so we won't have any problems. She's a smart one, brother. Anything else to add, Sunshine?"

You ignored the nickname, eyes narrowing at the black-suited man. "There's a party tonight 'celebrating' the addition to the team. It starts at 8 so don't be late or else Tony will have your head. Also, if you wake me up before seven in the morning, watch your back 'cause I hold grudges."

Giving Thor a smile, you head to your room, closing the door with a sigh. On the other side, you heard Loki chuckle once. "I like her."

"She's serious. She almost ripped my heart out the one time I accidentally woke her from her slumber." Thor added, the clap on his brother's back loud. "Get ready for the party, Loki."

Loki had been forced in his room by his brother, the door closing after him. He listened carefully, hearing you plop on your bed. He bit back a smirk, a plan unfolding in his brain. With a swift gesture of a finger, the room had been decorated, the hideous white theme changing into an exact copy of Loki's bedroom in Asgard.

The day went by fast as you wasted it away planning the party with Tony, who had, in no way, helped. You had ran off to your room once the people Tony had hired came, setting up everything in the main room. As you walked to the three-bedroom wing, you saw Steve rocking back and forth in front of your door, his hands in his pocket while Thor gushed about his flying hammer.

Relief washed over his face as soon as he spotted you, and you almost turned around, wishing you had gone to Natasha's room to get ready.

Steve called out your name, abruptly ending his conversation with Thor. As you walked closer, you could see the concern etched on his face. "Hey, are you okay?"

Thor watched your reaction, your face fighting the urge to make a face at America's sweetheart. Maneuvering your body, you slid between the two men to get to your room. "I'm fun-fucking-tastic. Thor, remind Loki about the party. I didn't spend the whole day with Tony for Loki to miss his own party."

"I'll be there, darling." Loki chimed in, his head poking out of his bedroom. Everyone turned to look at him, seeing the not-so-subtle wink he gave you.

Ignoring Steve's clenched fists, you moved past them, entering your room. Before closing the door, you said, "Tony requests the presence of all three of you, by the way. There's no way you're getting out of this. See you at 8!"

With a sighed of relief, you closed the door in Steve's face, the loud slam cutting off whatever he was about to interject. He could talk to Sharon about whatever shit he was dealing with, the girl he chose. You were no longer someone he could vent to after the shit he pulled, leading you on before leaving for Sharon Carter. It was then that you came to the decision to not love so easily.

Getting ready for the party took longer than you thought it would, the hot shower burning your skin to the point your skin started to redden. Your mind wandered to Loki, curios about the wink. Maybe it was his way of messing with people, a loophole that had not been included in the agreement. Realizing how inappropriate it was to think about the God while showering, you quickly turned the water off and stepped out.

Knowing Natasha, she's be disappointed if you didn't dress up like your inner slut, the one that got fucked up in Tokyo, and the petty hoe who would do everything to make Steve Rogers regret his decision. Well, you weren't going to let your sestra down.

The sultry, tight red dress was almost too short to be considered decent. With it's low cropped top, your tits we're begging for attention, the bra non-existent. Your new motto: protect the city, free the titties. The matching red stilettos would've been a pain if you hadn't started wearing them so early in your life. You let your hair down, running hand through it before slapping some natural makeup on your face, trying not to look desperate for attention.

It was around 8:15 when you finally finished, already exhausted by the amount of work you had to put on for others, but mostly for yourself. Either Tony or Natasha would come barreling through your door if you were going to be any later. Rushing, you took a quick look in the mirror before opening your door, nearly bumping into the God of Mischief.

He was dressed in a black buttoned-downed dress shirt with matching dress pants. Like before, his hair was slicked back, the shoulder length, raven hair looking silky and sexy. You both eye each other, eyes appreciating the sight in front of them. It wasn't until you finally met his eyes that he cleared his throat, a smug smile covering half his face.

"Would you mind accompanying me to the party, Lady Y/N? My brother is an idiot and cannot give a proper tour with his minuscule organ that he calls a brain. As of that, I do not know where this celebration is held." Loki explained, holding out his arm, waiting for you to take it. He raised an eyebrow while you hesitated. "If not, I could just follow you and everyone would assume I'm planning to have your head."

"Jesus Christ, you and Thor are so fucking dramatic." you grumbled, taking Loki's arm, your arm snaking around his. "Must run in the family, huh?"

"I'm adopted."

"I don't care."

Loki darkly chuckled, feeling your warm body against his, letting himself grow closer, enough that he could feel more of you but not enough that you would've noticed. "I sincerely hope you don't take this the wrong way, but you look rather ravishing, darling."

"Have you ever thought of cutting your hair?" you replied, loving the way Loki's smug expression wavered—probably expecting a compliment—before composing himself. "You'd look less like Johnny Depp from Pirates of the Caribbean."

"I don't understand." Loki said, leading you towards the elevator. For someone who claimed they didn't know where they were headed, he had the sense of knowing where everything was.

You waved the pop culture reference away, pushing the elevator button. "You wouldn't. Is Thor already at the party?"

"I'm quite positive."

The rest of the walk to the main room was quiet, neither of you making small talk as you led him. More like, he led you. You were suspicious he had stayed back and faked not knowing the compound in order to mess with you. But you waved that thought away, focus on getting distracting yourself from Steve.

You could hear the party before seeing it, the big room had been half full, not too much, not too little, yet you had been surprised considering how extra Tony could be. Letting go of Loki's arm, you walked to the bar where Natasha was sipping a glass of whiskey, ignoring the rest of the party. She pulled out a bottle of gin as you arrived, raising an eyebrow at your accompanied date.

"Before you say anything, he didn't know where the party was so he asked me to guide him. Nicely if I might add." you said, pushing back the bottle, settling on a bottle of water instead.

Natasha smirked, watching Loki interact with his brother, a frown deepening on his face. "He knows where everything is, Thor gave him the whole tour while you were with Tony. Can't believe you took the bait."

"Ugh." you grumbled, wishing you could forget about tomorrow and drown your problems in alcohol but the last hangover nearly killed you.

"Stevie doesn't look to happy with you showing up with Loki." Natasha noticed, the smirk widening as she watched Steve's glare grew more lethal as Loki's grin got bigger. "This is so much better than America's Next Top Models fails. Do you wanna bet that one of them will punch the other before the party is over?"

"Daddy, chill." you mimicked, turning to see how enraged old Capsicle is. But with the blonde besides him, looking up him in both wonder and worry, he had no right to be angry at Loki for attending a party that had been thrown for him, despite the many people he murdered—while being controlled. "He can't seriously still be sour about Loki joining."

The redhead giggled, a little drunk from the amount of alcohol she already consumed. "I don't think that's what he's so broody about, not anymore at least. He was smiling until he saw you on Loki's arm."

"Ain't my fault he chose Peggy's niece over me, meaning he doesn't get to be jealous whether Loki is my date or a walker for these killer stilettos." you muttered, secretly loving and hating the jealousy that oozed out of Steve Rogers. Even his blonde date had noticed. "Look at these heels, aren't they gorgeous?"

"Almost as gorgeous as you." Natasha replied, winking just before she drowned the rest of her drink. She winced a little at the taste.

"How many of those have you had?" you wondered, eyeing the spy. After the worst hangover of both your lives, Natasha had made you swear to never let her get that drunk again. Although with the rate she was going, you feared you had been too late.

She shrugged, taking your bottle of water. "Four. Oh, look, here comes Steve."

Before you could ditch, Steve leaned against the counter, his blue buttoned down shirt matching his blue eyes. Natasha not-so-subtly walked to the other side of the bar, motioning for Bruce to keep her company, although knowing her, she'd listen to every word.

"Rogers," you greeted coldly, looking everywhere but him. He tensed at your cold greeting, the frown looking permanently pressed on his face. "Enjoying the party?"

"Yeah."

Lie.

"Good."

You sat there for a good two minutes before he cleared his throat, shifting his weight nervously from one foot onto the other. Steve coughed in his fist. "So...living near Loki isn't too much trouble, is it? He causing any trouble, yet?"

"Sweet as an angel." you replied sarcastically, wishing you were anywhere but here. Loki caught your eye, raising a hand to wave and the group that had been brave enough to be near him, gasped in shock, the noises audible across the room. Their reactions made you chuckle.

Steve cleared his throat, this time louder. "Would you like to dance?"

"Ask your girlfriend." you fired back, satisfied by the hurt on his face. After the stunt he pulled, leading you on only to stomp of your heart, you wanted to be selfish and make him suffer just a little bit. Thankful, Loki came to your rescue.

Ignoring Steve, he held out his arm once again, a smile playing on his lips as he took in the tense situation between you and Steve. But before he could utter a single word, Sharon decided it was the perfect time to come looking for Steve. She assessed the situation, awkwardly noting Loki's presence.

"Er, hello." Sharon said, standing in false bravery. She wouldn't admit it, but she was afraid of the God of Mischief.

Loki gave her a curt nod and held out a hand to you instead, easily fitting yours in his. He murmured your name, softly kissing your knuckles. "Would you like to dance? This is the first song that came on that has not made me want to tear my ears off."

"Why, yes, I would." you agreed with a grin, moving your body close to Loki as you reached the unofficial dance floor, everyone's eyes on the both of you, with shock and slight fear. You would've cackled at their reactions—and it looked like Loki wanted to, too—if you hadn't been raised with manners. "Thank you."

Loki raised an eyebrow, surprised by the words. "For what, if I may ask?"

"Saving me back there. I don't need that kind of drama in my life. Not anymore." you explained, drinking in the warmth of his arm wrapping around your waist as you both slowly swayed to the slow song.

The raven-haired God smiled—not the smug smirk he wore, but a genuine one that Thor hadn't seen his brother wear for a few years now. "My pleasure. A lady like you deserves someone who'll give her his undivided attention. Any suitor would be lucky to have a tenth of your attention."

A coping mechanism: you rolled your eyes but you couldn't help the small smile that forced itself on you lips. You bit it back, hoping no one had noticed.

Loki had. And he meant every word he said.

By the end of the night, you found yourself naked, against the wall and legs wrapped around Loki's waist. Lips crashed against one another, soft kisses trailing down necks, leaving little love marks that would surely be dark. But at the moment, you didn't care. Not when Loki whispered sweet nothings in your ear as he took you from behind, above, underneath, and even on the side. You had both been teasing each other at the party and now you had given in, no matter the consequences.

—

Annoyed Steve had missed the date he had asked you on, you walked up to his room, heels clicking. You had waited for him for over two hours, texted him and getting no replies, leaving the restaurant with the humiliation of being stood up.

But as you neared his door, you heard crying. But it wasn't Steve. Peeking inside, you saw Sharon. Pretty, talented Sharon. Her eyes were red, tears steaming down her cheeks while Steve hugged her shoulders, resting his chin on her head as he comforted her. Jealousy and hurt knocked the breath out of you.

You waited.

And waited.

And it happened. Leaning in slowly, he kissed her. Softly, like he had kissed you. And she kissed him back, finding comfort in the kiss.

Heart breaking in two, you left, leaving the door open. The couple broke their kiss long enough to see you walk away through the slit of the door. Steve hung just head, feeling terrible. But Sharon had helped him as he had. This time, they hadn't stopped at kissing, forgetting the girl who had her heart broken by the man who claimed he would never hurt her.

Steve knew it was over between you two, but he could focus his attention on caring as much as he wanted to when Sharon kept kissing him. He did try to apologize only to learn you had went to visit Thor in Asgard, leaving him to feel sorry for himself and his decisions. Yet, he still found temporary comfort in Sharon's arms.

—

You woke to the warmth of Loki's arms around you. Opening your eyes, you found yourself tangled limbs with the God of Lies, your hair a mess, a hand over his chest and a leg over his waist. Your cheek rested on the crook of his neck, fitting perfectly as if he was made for you.

"Good morning." Loki whispered, stroking your hair with one hand, the other softly massaging your thigh. "Sleep well?"

Nuzzling into his neck, you snorted at the irony. "Don't know, considering we didn't do much sleeping."

Loki chuckled, pressing a soft kiss on your head. "Touché. It would only be fair of me to apologize for the love marks I left on your soft skin last night. Forgive me but I could not help myself."

Gasping, you jumped up, looking at the vanity mirror across your bed to find your collarbone, neck, and the top of your breast covered in Loki's hickeys. He looked rather proud of himself than sorry. "Loki!"

"Please note my apologies are genuine when they are directed towards you. Although, I have to admit, I'm quite proud of myself. It's my best art." Loki announced, bringing himself up on his elbows, eyes ravaging your naked flesh, littered with his marks.

Noticing the difference between your bodies, you quickly turned around to see the reflections had been right; Loki's body remained unmarked. "I swear to god I left hickeys and bite marks all over you last night."

"You tried but got rather mad when my skin healed itself." Loki explained, pulling you back in his warm arms. The soft gesture surprised you, the whole situation coming into light. You had slept with Thor's murderous brother. Loki read your thoughts. "Don't be like that, love. What what I can remember, you enjoyed yourself last night quite immensely. If it will make you feel better, I can show all the love bites you made the night before."

Thankful you hadn't drank anything last night, you had been so happy to not wake up with a hangover and Loki. Turning to face him, you raise an eyebrow. "What?"

With a smirk, his chest gleamed green for a second before it uncovered layers and layers of hickeys, and reddening bite marks. It was identical to yours. You gasped in shocked while Loki stared at you in amusement, his arms tightening. "You did a little bit of damage. I'm proud."

"Holy shit—" you were cut off by Thor and Steve bursting into your room, the sudden motion making you cover up your naked chest with a shriek. The two men's jaws dropped as they took in the scene, Loki's bare chest covered with the evidence from last night, his arms wrapped around you while you stared at them with wide eyes. "Knock, goddamnit!"

Both of them stood in silence, their brains not processing what was in front of them. Steve's eyes had mirrored yours from when you caught him kissing Sharon, eyes watering, you could see his heart breaking just by making eye contact. But at that moment, you couldn't find yourself to care, not with Loki's arms around you.

"What—" Thor began.

Loki smirked, kissing your bare shoulder. "Hello, brother."

next >

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #loki #loki x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x sharon carter #marvel #captain america #angst #jealousy #chris evans x reader

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spook-central · 3 years

Text

So you know how I said I was gonna write a short Ray fic based on that garage kiss in Some Kind of Wonderful?

GUESS WHAT I DID IT

I’ll be posting it here and on archive of our own! Find me there at egonspenglersnose and give it some love!)

It’s based on this scene and this song if you need a little more context! Enjoy!

•••

She Loves Me

Word Count: 2939

Warnings: none it’s fluffy!

The day had started off normally enough, aside from the usual craziness that often occurred around the firehouse. Spring was in the air, and after what had felt like a bleak and oppressive winter, it was finally time to open up the doors and air the place out.

It felt good, letting the spring air in, and it made your overtime far more bearable.

You often stayed late a few times a week to make sure everything was caught up on for the next day when things got busy during the work week, something which Janine always appreciated greatly. Tonight was no exception, but the sun staying out for a longer time in the evenings definitely made it more enjoyable.

It also helped that Ray had lingered behind this evening to work on the Ecto. You had always been incredibly fond of him, and it was obvious to just about everyone that a crush had blossomed on your part.

You recalled the day you had met him; they had hired you on the spot mainly because they needed the help but also because you had a fairly impressive resume, and Ray was one of the first of the guys you had been introduced to.

He was quite honestly one of the best looking men you had ever met, and so incredibly sweet. You immediately liked him and got a good feeling about him.

You loved how passionate he was about the Ecto, and his overall knowledge of cars had always impressed you. Even if you didn’t know much about them, you loved his enthusiasm for them and it easily rubbed off on you.

Now, as you finished up the last of your paperwork for the evening, you could hear him tinkering away not far from you. Ecto had her fair share of problems, but there was nothing Ray wouldn’t do for that car. It was like another member of the team, and you couldn’t imagine the guys doing anything without it.

Ray would occasionally come in from where he was working for something he needed, and your eyes would meet on occasion. You had never had the guts to tell him of your feelings. Ray was just so cute and enthusiastic about what he did that it was hard NOT to give him heart eyes 24/7.

From time to time, you would hear him shuffle in for a drink of water or a missing wrench that he had left in the lab, smiling at him as you took in the sight of his wild brown hair and big, sweet eyes. How was it fair for one human to be that cute? You felt like you were sixteen again with the way you wanted to fawn over him.

However, restraint was a quality you possessed as well, and you hoped that you had been able to be somewhat subtle around him.

Oh well, maybe someday you would have enough courage. Sighing as you finished up your paperwork for the night, you stood to stretch your back, adjusting your jeans, purse and blouse as you made your way towards the door.

“She still down and out?” You asked Ray as you came to stand carefully beside the lovely car he had so caringly constructed and repaired. It really was his baby, in a funny way, and you respected the work that had gone into it a great deal. Ecto kept the guys in one piece, and you gave the vehicle a sweet little pat on the roof as if to say thank you.

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” he said, his voice echoing off of the metal interior before attempting to stand up too quickly and bumping his head on it. “Ow!”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, it always gets me like that,” he chuckled, rubbing the spot on the back of his head that had been bumped and smiling that sweet, bright smile of his at you that always made you melt. “Are you headed out for the day?”

“Yup, unless you need anything else from me that is,” truth be told, you would’ve gladly stayed all night just to hang around with him. Ray seemed hesitant to fully say Goodnight, and you couldn’t help wondering if he was thinking the same thing.

“Well, uh...hand me the socket wrench?” You had gotten a fairly decent rundown of which tools were which upon receiving your first car as a teenager thanks to your father, so luckily you knew exactly what he needed. “Thanks.”

“Sure thing,” adjusting your purse on your shoulder, you couldn’t help asking about a case that had piqued your interest. “How did that class 5 turn out?”

“The one from yesterday?”

“Yeah, that one sounded nuts!”

“It was,” he laughed, “Venkman’s aim is getting better, he didn’t make any chandeliers explode this time.”

“I thought that one was Egon?”

You both laughed, and part of you was thrilled at how naturally conversation came for the both of you.

Needing a socket wrench turned into needing pliers, but soon enough Ray ran out of tools to need and it was clear that he really just wanted to spend time with you. You weren’t about to object in the slightest, comfortably sitting on a nearby stool and watching as he worked.

Truth be told, he had liked you ever since meeting you on that first day. You were always kind to him, and listened to anything he had to say no matter how out there it was.

He also couldn’t help thinking that you were incredibly pretty and very smart, but his own shy nature prevented him from saying so the way he wanted to.

A long time passed with you talking to Ray as he worked, and it was quite nice. The sun was setting now, the light golden as it streamed in from the open door beside the Ecto, but you didn’t mind.

“So Venkman seriously busted up this woman’s entire China cabinet?” The conversation had strayed back to Venkman now, and you couldn’t help laughing. He was such an odd duck, and you always got a kick out of him and his wild antics.

“We were able to blame it on the ghost being rowdy, but my god, it was a mess!” Ray tried to smooth back his messy hair as he laughed again, his hands covered in engine grease and not helping the situation much.

“He seems like he can be a real peach when he’s not causing trouble,” you rolled your eyes, smiling as Ray closed up the Ecto’s hood.

“He teases me plenty, that’s for sure, but I love him. He’s one of my best friends,” Ray was clearly fond of Venkman, and you didn’t doubt that their bond was a special one.

“What on earth does he tease you about?”

“Mostly my luck with women. Not that his is anything to go by,” this got a gut laugh out of you, and you were surprised by how witty Ray could be at times.

“No kidding. What, does he think you haven’t got game or something?”

“He tells me women won’t want to kiss me since I smoke so much.” Ray rolled his eyes, and you couldn’t help thinking about how far from the truth that actually was. “Or he acts like I don’t know how to do it at all. I mean, sure, I spend a lot of time at work but I’m not a complete hermit.”

You both laughed again, and you sat your purse on the ground as you got a rather cheeky idea. Was it even smart to try and approach things like this? Would he go for it? God, you hoped so.

“I’m sure you know how. I mean, everybody has a general idea of how to lay a proper smooch on someone if they want to.”

He raised an eyebrow at this, thinking the phrasing was humorous and wanting to hear more from you on this subject in particular.

“A ‘proper smooch’?”

“Yeah, you know. The kiss that kills. Butterflies and rainbows and all that stuff.”

He watched you as you took a few causal steps toward the Ecto now, the gears visibly turning in his head. Was this some subtle attempt at flirting?

The nearby radio, which had been playing softly in the background the whole time, played a song that perfectly fit the mood, the lyrics softly ringing out as you contemplated what to say next.

‘Who made the rule

that I should always play the fool?

All the nights I suffered

when I need not have bothered…’

“I don’t think I’ve ever had one of those, now that I think about it,” he admitted with a half smile.

“I uh...I think I’ve gotten close, but never all the way there,” you tucked a bit of hair behind your ear, watching as Ray adjusted his uniform, which he still had on. It had smudges of engine grease on it now, and you found it endearing.

He realized that this chance was now or never, gauging by the look in your eyes that you wanted what he wanted and deciding to go for it.

“How would it work? I mean...you seem like you know more about it than me,” he took a step closer, and you knew your eyes were shining in an undeniably flirty way.

“Oh you—you want me to show you?”

“I mean...if you feel up to it. I’m no expert and I could use the help.” Cheeky man, you thought. You could certainly show him if that was what he wanted.

“Do you have your eye on somebody, Ray?”

He wiped his hands on a nearby rag, the tension heightening as you watched them and then met his eyes again. You had always had a thing for those wonderful hands of his.

“I guess you could say that, yeah,” he nodded, his big brown eyes warm and sincere and you knew what he wanted to say but didn’t right then.

Instead of pressing further, you nodded, thinking this might be the most fun lesson you ever had the pleasure of teaching anyone as you got right into it.

“Well...I mean, first you have to start off in a stationary position. That helps,” he was closer now, and your cheeks flashed a soft tinge of pink as the space between you lessened. You didn’t usually have it in you to be playful, but decided to gently hop up on the hood of the Ecto in an attempt to bring him closer. “Come a little closer than that. Can’t do a thing from that far away.”

You moved to scoot nearer to the edge of the hood, willing Ray closer and practically beaming as he closed the space between you both more and more with each step.

Had anyone else sat on the hood like this, Ray might have gotten finicky, but the sight of you so close to the car he loved so much actually only ended up getting him going even more.

“It definitely helps,” he rubbed the back of his neck now, seeing that this had clearly turned into something beyond just a lesson in kissing techniques. You could smell his cologne now that he was so close, which only seemed to set your senses on overdrive even further.

“Now, uh...do you know where your hands go?”

His eyebrows raised in what seemed like a mix of curiosity and confusion, and you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched now that he stood directly in front of you.

“My hands?”

“Yeah. They go on the hips of whoever you’re kissing,” the mood had certainly shifted now, and you felt more daring than you ever had before. A timid smile crossed your face as Ray allowed you to guide his hands to the appropriate place, and the realization that this was definitely about to happen made your stomach do leaps.

“Hips, got it.” God, his hands were so strong and steady and you didn’t even care if this got engine grease on your jeans, it was just thrilling to have him this close.

“Okay, now look into my eyes. Eye contact is important.” The both of you gave a shy, breathy chuckle as your eyes met, and you playfully shoved Ray’s chest. “Come on, we’ve gotta take this seriously if you want to learn anything.”

“Sorry, I get a little skittish with these things,” he admitted, and you shook your head with a smile.

“It’s okay, but the lesson isn’t quite over yet,” you said, your cheeks noticeably warmer. The tension was enough to make your heart race.

“Alright, and uh...after that?”

“Well, uh...my hands go here,” you reached up to loop your arms around his neck, inevitably bringing him directly between your legs and causing Ray to clear his throat.

“How do you, uh...I mean, how do you know that that happens every time?”

“I watch a lot of TV, I guess,” you managed a soft laugh with this, “now, uh...close your eyes.”

Ray’s heart was pounding. Was this seriously about to happen?

“Close my—? Oh, yeah, okay.” He nodded a bit, doing as you said and knowing he had wanted this for what felt like forever. He was so handsome up close, and you couldn’t believe your luck.

It was time to go in for the kill, and you didn’t waste a second.

Leaning in, the first contact was soft and exploratory, and it took Ray a moment to figure out exactly how to respond. But once he got the angle right, it was everything you had described and more.

The music swelled on the radio nearby, and you thought you could’ve melted right then and there.

‘The minutes that we missed

idle lips that should’ve kissed

and now gently together

The first kiss lasts forever

She loves me, she loves me

Oh and she loves me, all the time…’

Tilting his head a bit, Ray found just the right angle, and one kiss turned into what felt like a million. Your hands made their way into his hair, that hair you loved so much that often seemed to fly out in all directions.

His lips were soft and very pleasant to kiss, and it occurred to you that he must use lip balm of some kind. Ray himself couldn’t believe this was happening. He honestly couldn’t fathom how he had been lucky enough to end up kissing you like this, but he was, and he was putting everything he had into it.

Ray’s mind moved at a million miles a minute. All he could think about was how it felt when you moved in a rhythm with him, how soft your lips were, your soft body, and how GOOD you smelled—

He nearly sighed as he felt your leg brace around him to bring him in as close as possible, gripping your jeans to pull you close by your hips in return.

You nearly melted into a puddle on the floor at the feeling of his grip, so strong and firm on you like he couldn’t bear to leave any space between the two of you at all.

He must have shaved that morning, you thought, having expected him to have at least a little stubble and feeling surprised that there was none. Where on earth had Ray learned to kiss so well? Boy would Venkman have egg on his face if he knew about THIS.

Unfortunately for you both, you had to break away and breathe at some point, just looking at each other until you finally managed to speak.

“Well, uh...Venkman was wrong. Way wrong. Wow.”

“It was...I mean, was it like you said? Butterflies and—and all that for you too?”

“Are you kidding?” You laughed, “sheesh, I didn’t know you had that in you. You wouldn’t have any trouble hooking any woman you wanted if you kissed her like that.”

He seemed surprised and incredibly flattered, looking down and then back up at you with a grin and eager brown eyes.

“Was it obvious at all that I was referring to you?”

“I kind of hoped that was the case,” both of you grinned then, the final chorus of the song fading out in the background as the spring breeze blew in once more.

‘She loves me, she loves me

Oh and she loves me all the time…’

You couldn’t resist leaving a sweet peck on Ray’s cheek just because you could, earning a bright smile from him as he got a somewhat playful gleam in his eye.

“The guys are gonna be gone for the rest of the evening, and I don’t have anything else planned...would you want to grab some dinner with me?”

“Sure, but only if we can do more of this afterwards,” you giggled, and Ray helped you off the hood of the Ecto to stand you up and kiss you so that he could press you flush against him now. You were sure you looked like a cartoon character with birds chirping around your head as he pulled away.

“You drive a hard bargain,” Ray said, unable to keep from grinning as he took your hand, “but you’ve got yourself a deal.”

What a lesson to teach with anyone, you thought. He was a fast learner, that was for sure.

Picking up your purse, the two of you headed out, and you couldn’t help humming that lovely chorus to yourself one last time.

‘She loves me, she loves me

Oh and she loves me all the time…’

#ghostbusters #dan aykroyd #ray stantz #ray stantz x reader #ray stantz fanfic #ghostbusters fanfiction

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heyitssmiller · 3 years

Text

Clandestine: Chapter Eleven

I... about 75% of this chapter was not in the outline, and I don’t really know what to do about that fact. This completely ran away from me, but that’s ok I guess.

Characters, as always, belong to the amazing @lumosinlove and a huge thanks again to @donttouchmycarrots for proofreading!! <3

Clandestine Masterlist

CW: hospitals, injury, brief mention of blood, medical drugs

Leo slept. A lot.

Logan knew this was normal; their nurse had reiterated it a few times now. When he did wake up, it was only for a few dazed, confused minutes before he was pulled back under again. The confusion ebbed the more time went on, the effects of anesthesia wearing off, but the dull sheen to his eyes remained. He could fight his way through a brief conversation with him or Finn, and then he was back to sleep. It was probably for the best, Logan told himself. Better than dealing with their present situation, at least.

Finn was curled up uncomfortably in the chair beside him, also sleeping. He normally looked peaceful when he was asleep – lips slightly parted, face relaxed, on his side or stomach with one hand usually shoved under his pillow. After about a week of sharing a hotel room and a bed, Logan knew these things. It wasn’t the same now. Granted, he was in a chair instead of a bed, but still. He was curled up somewhat in a ball, with the leg in a brace stretched out and immobile – an awkward position that almost made him look like a flamingo balancing on one leg. His shoulders were tense, even in sleep, and his jaw was clenched tight. A worry line was furrowed between his eyebrows, steadfastly refusing to smooth out. Logan brushed his knuckles faintly against the bruise on his cheek, plum against porcelain, and sighed. He knew he should be doing the same thing – sleeping, that is – but every time he closed his eyes… well. It wasn’t pretty. Besides, someone needed to keep an eye out. There was only so long the nurse could delay the GSW report.

It was only a matter of time before they were on the run again.

Regulus drifted in and out on occasion, checking in on them. He seemed to be on guard, constantly walking the perimeter of the hospital and keeping an eye out for familiar faces. It put Logan on edge and calmed him down at the simultaneously. He didn’t trust Regulus, not really, but he figured if he was going to sabotage them he would’ve done so already. He’d had ample opportunity, after all.

Logan glanced at the clock. They’d been here for just shy of twenty-four hours now. The sun was starting to rise again, not bringing any answers with it. Loops had been in contact, briefly. They’d received one text message that simply said “stay put” and radio silence after that. He just hoped they had a good plan. Even better if it was safe, too, but Logan wasn’t about to push their luck… if you could even call it that.

For now, this was ok. They were together, they were alive, and they were relatively safe, for now. In that moment, listening to the steady beeps of a monitor and muffled conversations of people in the hallway outside their door and the even breathing of his partners, he couldn’t ask for much more.

***

Nate saw the scowling, intimidating group of people in the lobby and knew they were in trouble.

He had just started today’s shift, still tired from the one the day before, and was in the process of saying his usual hello to the staff working the front desk when he saw them. There were three of them – at least two of which were over six feet tall, looming and muscular and intense. One had a scar traversing down one side of his face, healed but still a beacon that screamed “don’t mess with me”. The short, scary one was right.

He’d submitted the GSW report about ten minutes ago, and here they were.

Fuck.

Nate didn’t even say goodbye to the sweet lady working the desk that day, he just backed away slowly and tried to appear normal as he pushed past the doors. As soon as they closed he broke into a run, headed straight for room 308 and stopping by the nurse’s station for a split second to grab two prescriptions before he was off again. He was almost there when he crashed into someone as he rounded a corner, only avoiding hitting the ground by two arms that snaked out to steady him. He looked up to gray eyes and a vaguely familiar face.

“Sorry.” The guy said and let go of him, frowning when he saw what was no doubt a look of panic on Nate’s face. “You ok?”

He remembered this guy now. He was with the scary short guy and the other two. He wasn’t around much, but Nate had seen him a few times when he’d been making his rounds.

“They’re here.” He blurted, hoping that he didn’t need so say anymore.

He didn’t. in the blink of an eye he was leading the way to room 308 and throwing the door open, which Nate didn’t think was the best idea. He didn’t know what these people did for a living, but it was clearly dangerous. Barging in like that probably wasn’t a good move.

Sure enough, when Nate followed Gray Eyes into the room, the short one was on his feet and had pulled a gun from somewhere, aiming it at the two of them. Gray Eyes stuck his arm out and kept Nate from going any further until Short Angry One recognized them.

Nate used to think this was a relatively safe career path. Sure he might get puked on, yelled at, mentally and emotionally eviscerated by doctors and patients and family members alike on a regular basis, but he’d never felt like his life was in danger.

Maybe he should go into accounting. Just him in an office with a bunch of numbers. Or a museum curator, surrounded by ancient artifacts and not much else. Definitely not people pointing guns at you.

Both the redhead and the blond woke up at the disturbance, one sitting up in a flash and the other just blinking sleepily and frowning in concern. Before anyone else could get a word in edgewise, Gray Eyes blurted out, “They’re here.”

The EKG readings on the monitor spiked, and then it was a flurry of motion. Short Angry One cursed under his breath and pulled Gray Eyes and Nate into the room fully, closing the door behind them. The redhead started throwing the few things they had into his pockets – a phone, some other electronic device Nate couldn’t identify, an old lock, a pen. He shoved his shoes on, unsteady on his feet, and looked to the blond, who was still in a hospital gown and watching with wide eyes. All the color that had been slowly returning to his cheeks was now gone.

Nate steeled his resolve. His job was to save lives, damnit, and that’s what he was going to do.

He jumped into action, pushing Gray Eyes out of the way and unhooking his patient from the monitors before discontinuing the IV drip and pulling the IV out, stopping the bleeding with quick pressure from his hand. “There’s an employee exit down the hall that leads to the parking garage. You guys know how to hotwire a car, by any chance? I’d offer you mine but I don’t have one.”

“I can.” Glaring down at his sling, the blond muttered, “Well. Maybe can is the wrong word.”

Nate let up on the pressure, shrugged his thin jacket off, and helped him slide his good arm through the sleeve, throwing the other side around his shoulder gently. It wouldn’t do much to help, but it was better than nothing. “Can you show someone else how to do it?”

“Maybe.” He said, moving to swing his legs over the edge of the bed and frowning when Nate stopped him. “I can walk.”

Nate smiled. Typical. “That’s what they all say. I’m going to grab a wheelchair, anyways. You’ll be faster that way.” He looked at the others in the room and continued. “I’ll lead you to the exit, but I’m afraid that’s as far as I can take you. I’ll try to find these guys and get them off your trail as best I can.”

He shoved the two prescriptions he was so glad he’d filled last night at Ginger, trying to ignore the way all of them seemed to be staring at him. “Instructions are on the labels. He needs to finish all the antibiotics. All of them.” He didn’t have time to stress the importance of preventing antibiotic resistance, but he hoped they would take his word for it. “Let me go get-”

The door opened again and they all swiveled towards it. Ginger stepped between the blond and the door while Short One raised his gun again – but he didn’t shoot. In fact he just stared for a second, then lowered his gun with a smile.

“Loops.” He said, relieved, and – what?

The three men Nate had seen earlier were ushered into the room, the tallest one slapping the brunet on the shoulder, causing him to stumble as he flipped the safety of his gun back on and stashed it in the waistline of his pants.

The one in the front with caramel colored eyes looked between their group, one eyebrow arched. “Going somewhere? I thought I told you to stay put.”

Ginger laughed incredulously, shoulders slumping. “Holy shit, Loops. We thought you were someone else.”

Gray Eyes looked at Nate, exasperation clear in his gaze. “You told me they were here.”

Nate threw his arms up in defense. “You look at those guys and tell me you wouldn’t be suspicious.” He winced and looked at the newcomers, realizing that his words might be offensive. “Sorry.”

Neither of them seemed to take it to heart. The tall one just grinned and said, in a heavily-accented voice, “We still got it, eh, Nado?”

The one with the scar – Nado, apparently – just rolled his eyes and didn’t comment, but Nate could see one side of his mouth lifting into a smile. It softened his face, made him look more like a teddy bear than the scary, intimidating guy he’d seen in the lobby.

“We’ve got a car out back.” The one called Loops said, looking to the blond with gentle, understanding eyes. “You good to go?”

He nodded firmly, no room for second-guessing. “Let’s do this.”

Now, Nate didn’t exactly think it was a good idea to move a GSW patient out of a hospital only a day after getting shot, but – judging by how the others had reacted at the thought of people coming for them – it was safer for him to leave than to stay here. His brain, after all those years of medical classes and caffeine/anxiety induced all-nighters, was screaming in horror about complications and sepsis and bone fragments, but he didn’t voice them. He just reached for a pen and paper in his pocket. He scribbled his number down and handed it to his patient. “If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask, ok? I’d feel much better if you at least had a nurse with you, but this’ll have to do.”

He got a warm smile in response. “Thanks,” he said, voice and eyes serious. “For everything. Not many people would do what you did for us.”

Nate blinked. “I genuinely don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but thanks?” He still didn’t know who exactly he was helping, but then again, he guessed it didn’t really matter either way. They seemed like good people dealing with a shitty situation, and that was a good enough motive for him. “I’m going to grab that wheelchair quickly and I’ll be right back.”

He should’ve known that, by the time he got back, they’d already be gone – leaving no trace except for the disheveled sheets on the bed, two chairs next to it instead of the standard one, and the still humming machines and monitors.

Nate let himself slump against the wheelchair, forearms resting against the handles.

“What the fuck,” he said, with feeling.

***

Sirius was behind the steering wheel of a very old service van, watching six of them pile into the back and Loops slide into the passenger’s seat. His eyes didn’t stray long from Regulus, though. If he’d had enough time, he would’ve tackled his younger brother in a hug. Unfortunately, they were on a bit of a tight schedule. “Petition to never have to break someone out of a hospital again.” He said wryly, putting the van into drive and searching for the exit to the maze that was this parking garage. All the while, he was sneaking glances in the rearview mirror, unable to help himself.

“Where do I sign?” Finn deadpanned from the back row, sandwiched between Logan and Leo. They looked so tired. Leo didn’t hesitate to twist in his seat a little so that he could lean into Finn’s chest and close his eyes, looking absolutely miserable. Finn shifted just slightly, pressing a barely-perceptible kiss to a bird’s nest of curls and relaxing back into his seat.

Huh.

That was… new.

But then again, was it? Sirius thought back to the past several months of this operation and found that he really wasn’t that surprised. But then there was Logan…

“Turn left here.” Remus said, pulling him out of the thoughts, calm and in control like usual. His lips turned up into a smile as he flicked his turn signal on. He could see them doing exactly this, when all the chaos was said and done. Taking a roadtrip, Sirius behind the wheel and Remus navigating, going wherever they felt like. No worries or missions, just the two of them and the black top below them. He shelved the daydreaming for later.

“Where are we going?”

Sirius’ eyes flew back to the mirror at his brother’s voice – the first time he’d head it un-obscured by a phone or earpiece in too long. He’d missed him. He’d fought so hard for him, to get him out of that mess and keep him safe, and here he was. They’d done it.

Was he a horrible person, for feeling as relieved as he did? He’d inadvertently put the Cubs through hell for mostly selfish reasons. Sure, he wanted to take the Snakes down, but that paled in comparison to the safety of his brother. He’d let the Snakes walk away scot-free if it meant Reg was safe.

He didn’t know what kind of person that made him – he was too afraid to speculate about it.

“My family has a cabin about two hours away,” Remus replied, balancing his phone with the navigation app against the center console so that Sirius could see it. “It’s empty right now, so it’s a perfect hideout until we figure out next steps.”

Finn was asleep now, too, head pillowed on Leo’s. Logan stared sightlessly out the window beside them, stonily silent. Sirius ached for him. They were kindred spirits, he and Logan. Stubborn, fierce, bleeding hearts who cared too much and shouldered more than their fair share of the responsibility when things went wrong.

And things had really gone wrong.

“What are the next steps?” Reg asked as they left the city and headed towards the interstate. “This isn’t the only backup we’ve got, right?”

“Sleep,” Kuny told Regulus, not unkindly, “had big couple of days, yes? Plan later.”

Reg looked at the tall Russian sitting next to him for a second, then sighed and turned his gaze to the window.

Sirius drove on in silence.

Two hours and eighteen minutes later, he was pulling up on a gravel driveway to a quaint, two-story cabin. The jostling of the gravel under their tires seemed to wake everyone up, according to the grumbles and yawns Sirius could hear from behind him as he finally put the van in park. The doors opened and they were all climbing out of the van, stretching stiff muscles and groaning. The ones with bags in the trunk went to unload while Remus fished his keys out of his pocket and headed for the front door, bounding up the last two steps to the porch. He was equal parts glad and upset that they were here. He was grateful that the Cubs were safe now and that this cabin was so far off the grid that the Snakes wouldn’t find them. But bringing a bunch of coworkers to the place he went to escape work stuff… jeez. Not that he didn’t like his coworkers, but sometimes he needed a break from it all. Plus this place belonged to his family. Being here with anyone but them just felt wrong.

Remus opened the door, instantly on guard when he saw the kitchen light was on. Whoever was in there must’ve heard the door because Remus could hear the refrigerator door close, then loud footsteps headed towards them. His hand drifted to his gun and he cautiously flicked the safety off.

A head peeked out from the kitchen. All-too-familiar eyes widened excitedly. “Re?”

The safety quickly went back on. “Jules?”

He wasn’t supposed to be there. Their trip wasn’t for another week-

Remus’ younger brother beamed and launched himself towards him, leaping into Remus’ arms when he got close enough with an excited shout.

“What are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t make it this trip!”

“What am I – what are you doing here?” Remus shot back, tensing up when he heard footsteps behind him. “Your trip is supposed to be next week!”

“School got cancelled because of all the snow.” Jules peered around Remus at the gathering group behind him. “Who are they?”

“Jules?” The familiar voice of their mother called from down the hall. “Who are you talking to, honey?”

Oh god, this was something straight out of Remus’ nightmares. How the fuck was he supposed to explain all this to his family? The rest of their agents were supposed to drive up here tomorrow with gear and supplies and weapons for their final stand against the Snakes. That… there was no way to explain that. At all.

Fuuuuuuck.

Hope Lupin stepped around the corner, startling when she saw the crowd on her doorstep. “Remus?”

“I’m so sorry, mom,” he blurted, the words coming out in an unfiltered rush. “I didn’t know you’d be up here or else I would’ve-”

“Oh, nonsense. We’re happy to have you and your… friends.” She said sweetly, voice raising into an almost-question at the end. Remus, flying blind, said the first thing that came to mind.

“They’re work friends. And there’s a few more coming tomorrow, if that’s ok.”

“What happened to him?” Jules interrupted, wide eyes trained on Leo, who smiled faintly.

“Shoulder surgery,” Leo said easily, taking Remus by surprise a little at how easily he responded with a textbook spy tactic: tell the truth, but only enough to not raise suspicion. He technically wasn’t lying, either. It was harder to get caught lying when you technically hadn’t.

It seemed like the rookie was no longer a rookie.

“It was recent, wasn’t it?” Hope asked, eyes sharp with observation as she ushered them all inside. When Leo looked at her a little distrustfully and both Logan and Finn stiffened beside him, she sent them all a soothing smile. “I’m a nurse, I can tell.”

“About a day and a half ago.” Leo let her lead them to a couch and sat down, answering Hope’s questions calmly now, seeming to know she could be trusted. When Remus looked around again, he noticed that Sirius and Regulus were both absent, no doubt having a much-needed talk. He was struck with a twinge of worry, but pushed it back. He shouldn’t interfere. They needed some time alone to sort through things. Sirius would talk to him about it if he felt like it. Nado and Kuny were trying to sneak their way into the kitchen, looking for whatever smelled so good in there. For spies, they weren’t very subtle.

“What kind of shoulder surgery?” Jules asked, trailing after their mom. “Re had one a few years ago, too!”

Remus winced and shot Leo an apologetic look for his over-inquisitive brother. “Not quite the same, Jules.”

“All he does is sleep now,” Finn said teasingly as he took a step back and stretched out his leg with only a slight wince. “My jacket has drool all over it from the car ride here.”

Leo shot Finn an unheated glare as he sat up and opened his mouth to shoot back a reply when all of a sudden he went pale as a sheet, eyes dazed. Everyone in the room froze, looking at him nervously.

Finn was kneeling in front of him in a flash, Logan already holding his hand too tightly from his spot beside him. “Leo?”

The blond squeezed his eyes shut and leaned into Logan heavily. “Hurts,” he managed to grit out while Logan wrapped an arm around his waist and held him close, combing his fingers through a riotous mess of curls. He locked gazes with Finn and saw a different kind of pain from Leo’s, but identical to Logan’s, reflected there as he watched helplessly.

Maybe they should’ve accepted the risks and stayed at the hospital. They’d be sitting ducks there, but at least it wouldn’t be this. Logan would take the uncomfortable chairs and the nurse who talked too much and the stress over the heavy weight pressed against him, the shaky, too-measured breaths, the soulful brown eyes that matched his own.

It felt like all the decisions he’d been making recently were the wrong ones. It would be nice to not put his partners through pain because of his poor decisions for once.

Hope was by their side then, holding out a glass of water and two pills. Logan hadn’t even noticed Finn set the prescriptions down on the entryway table. “I think it’s time to take these now.” Leo refused to move from his current spot, but he took the pills and followed them with a quick drink of water. A muffled “thank you” was murmured into the material of Logan’s shirt, quiet and a little tense.

Hope just smiled sympathetically. “You’re probably going to get really sleepy in the next thirty minutes or so,” she continued, giving the three of them a look. Like she knew something. “So if there’s any conversations that can’t wait until the morning…”

Loops came by his eerie observation skills naturally, it seemed.

Logan looked to Remus and the others, hoping that all the planning could wait until the morning. They were exhausted. Surely they’d be ok without them for a few hours.

“Go get some rest,” Loops said gently, motioning down the hallway. “There’s a guest bedroom down there, second door on the left. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Finn made a beeline for the bathroom as soon as they reached the bedroom, muttering about how he’d needed to use the restroom since they’d all piled into the van. Leo toed off his shoes while Logan hovered, unsure if he should offer to help or not, his heart still in his throat. Leo just sent him a weary, affectionate smile. It tugged viciously at Logan’s heart and made him want to pull his partner close and not let go. Ever.

“I’m ok, sweetheart.”

He could’ve cried at the relief of hearing that nickname again. “You sure?” He asked, just to be safe.

Leo’s face was inscrutable as he cautiously sat down on the bed. “If I keep telling myself that… eventually I’ll start to believe it, right?”

Logan didn’t have an answer to that, not at first. But he remembered the feeling from after missions that had gone belly-up, the few that he wasn’t sure he was going to make it out of. The disbelief that somehow, after all of that, he was still alive and ok. It felt like trying to find his way through a snowstorm when all he could see was blinding, overwhelming white.

He wasn’t about to let Leo navigate that without a guide.

He sat down next to Leo and grabbed his hand, moving down to the pulse-point at his wrist and feeling tendons flex and shift under his fingertips. It beat, steady and strong, when he pressed down lightly. He knew Leo could feel it, too.

“You’re here.” Logan said simply. It was a tactic he used on bad days, when everything got to be too much. That little pulse, a sign of life and resilience. The two of them shared that now, that resilience and refusal to die that flowed through their veins.

Leo stared at him, eyes so soft and a hue that Logan wanted to engrave into his memory. “Logan,” he said quietly, right as Finn flung the bathroom door open again. His mouth was in the process of opening to tell a joke when he saw the two of them and snapped it shut again with an audible click, unsure of what to do next.

Leo shared a look with Logan and a conversation passed between the two, silent but apparently crystal clear. Finn couldn’t quite tell if it was excitement or anxiety dancing in his stomach, but either way he wasn’t sure he liked the sensation.

He had a feeling he knew what was coming. They’d been tip-toeing around this conversation for too long now, and they’d finally reached the tipping point. However this conversation went, he knew their relationship would never be the same, and that scared him. There was comfort in things known and familiar, after all.

This felt like hanging out of a perfectly-good plane and not knowing if the parachute strapped to his back was going to work or not.

But everyone who took the jump said it was worth it, in the end. Finn desperately hoped they were right.

“I think we should talk.” Logan said quietly, patting the open spot on the bed next to him. The dreaded words. No one ever wanted to hear those words.

Finn made his way towards them, too afraid to make eye contact, and sat down gingerly. Feet firmly planted on the floor, one hand braced on the bed, tense and ready to get up and take flight if he felt like he needed to. “We’re finally going to have this conversation, huh?” he asked with a fake laugh that fell flat, finally glancing up. Looking at the two of them, side by side and seeming to just know each other in a way Finn felt like he didn’t, he wondered where he fit into all of this.

If he fit in at all.

God, he hoped he fit in.

“Look,” Leo started, voice steady and resolute like he was getting ready to rip off the proverbial bandaid. It did nothing to calm Finn down. “Logan and I talked a while ago, about us. And, um – well, we want to be together. All three of us.”

Finn blinked once, twice. The words weren’t exactly computing, not after spending so long telling himself that this would never happen, could never happen. “Oh.”

“You had to know,” Logan said, sounding confused. “You had to know how we felt. None of us were exactly subtle.”

“I… I hoped.” Finn managed to get out before he got distracted by Logan’s soft touch against the curve of his cheekbone, creating his own constellations out of the freckles there. Finn let his eyes close and focused on the point of contact. He had hoped, even if he’d tried to stamp it out most days. He’d hoped and he’d yearned and he’d ached, and now – finally, unbelievably – he might be getting exactly what he’d wanted. “I knew how the two of you felt about each other, I just… wasn’t sure where that left me.”

“Finn…” He heard the sheets rustle as Leo scooted closer and opened his eyes again.

“Can you blame me?” Finn let Leo hold his hand and slot their fingers together, a painfully delicate motion. He stared down at them, noticing faint green bruising from an IV line and deeper, purple discoloration from that one time Finn tried to catch himself before he hit the ground after a brutal punch. They matched, in a sick, twisted way.

But they were both healing – skin stitching itself slowly back together and aches fading little by little. There was a poignant symbolism there, Finn thought, musing over the words he needed to say. Talking about the doubts and the hurt and the confusion surrounding the three of them might be painful in the moment, but healing would always follow, even if it took a while.

He was thrilled that they wanted him, don’t get him wrong, but that didn’t have the ability to just wipe away the hurt of the past week. “You seemed happy together, just the two of you.” He thought of the coffee shop and watching them from his table with June. Or the hotel room the next day, the stolen glances and furtive touches. “I didn’t want to get in the way of that, not if I wasn’t wanted.”

One of the other two made a broken sound; Finn wasn’t sure who it was. The hand on his cheek moved to his chin and Logan ducked his head to meet Finn’s eyes again, fierce and sincere – a combination that encompassed the very core of the fighter.

“I’ve wanted you since that crazy New Year’s party.” He said with conviction and Finn laughed a little at the memories.

“Then why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” Logan challenged, signaling a change in the winds. Finn could see the storm brewing in those green eyes. “We were partners. Adding a relationship to the mix would only complicate things.”

“So what changed?” Finn let his frustration bleed through, ignoring Leo’s squeeze to his hand. “You’re saying two completely different things right now and it’s confusing as hell.”

Logan bit back, voice suddenly loud and harsh. “You think this is how I wanted to fall in love?”

Leo and Finn stared at him. No one had mentioned love. Not yet, at least. Logan seemed to recognize the intensity of his words and his shoulders slumped, but he didn’t take them back. Finn wasn’t sure if he was grateful for that or terrified because of it.

“It’s not supposed to be this hard, is it?” the brunet asked, voice a softer murmur. “Why couldn’t the three of us be normal and meet at, like, college or a coffee shop or something?”

Silence greeted him, heavy and suffocating.

“Because these are the cards we were dealt,” Leo said finally, looking between the two of them. “And yeah, it might be a shitty hand, but don’t you think it’d be worth it? After all that we’ve been through, choosing each other instead of letting the fear pull us apart?”

“Sounds like something out of a romance novel.”

Leo shrugged his good shoulder at Logan’s words, a conscientious effort to keep the other side of his body completely still. Finn ached a little at the sight. “Love isn’t easy, not for anyone. It’s a choice you make, day after day.” Blue eyes the color of a cloudless afternoon sky were calm and free of conflict when he looked at them again. “I’ve made my choice. What about you?”

Finn stared at him for what felt like forever, then blurted, “Did you rehearse that or something? What the fuck, Nutty.”

The resulting smile on Leo’s face was a welcomed reprieve from the earlier storm, placid and radiant. How was Finn supposed to do anything else but lean over, cup his cheeks in his hands, and press his lips against that smile?

Leo kissed a little distractedly, like he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to do first. The hand not caught in a sling flitted from auburn hair to fist in his t-shirt, then migrated lower to wrap around Finn’s back, long fingers splayed against his spine. But his mouth was soft and sweet against Finn’s, returning his kisses happily, and the combination of the two were just so Leo that Finn’s stomach swooped and his heart flopped in his chest.

He pulled back for air, an unfortunate necessity, and took in the sight in front of him. Leo’s eyes were still closed and that smile still graced kiss-swollen lips as he swayed towards Finn, clearly wanting more. Finn smiled too, irrevocably charmed, and kissed his cheek, his jaw, that cute little indent in his chin, then the curve of his smile again. He could never, not in a hundred years, get enough of this.

And then Logan met his gaze from beside the blond, eyes fond and warm as he watched them and ran his fingers up and down Finn’s thigh, the motion raising goosebumps on Finn’s arms – the air dense and volatile around them like the instant before lightning struck. Finn needed to kiss him, too. To learn the difference between the way he kissed to keep up pretenses on a mission and the way he kissed when he meant it. Finn kept Leo close with a hand on his waist and tilted Logan’s head up to kiss him, deep and intense. It was thrilling and a little wild; so different from kissing Leo, but just as captivating. Always unpredictable, the kiss morphed from charged to surprisingly, achingly gentle – a thunderstorm melting into a comforting spring shower. Finn was reminded of shoving the couch up against the wall nearest to the window during storms as a kid, watching the raindrops track down the glass, and the sound of the world going silent save for the wind and the thunder and the rain hitting the roof like the pounding of drums – a symphony just for him to witness. He sighed against soft lips and sank into the kiss, listening for the intricacies of this new, unknown melody.

The rustle of clean sheets, a hitch in breath followed by a deep exhale, the steady beat of the old clock hung on the wall, a hum against his lips.

Then Leo was leaning in to kiss Finn’s pulse-point, firm enough to bruise and tender enough to make Finn’s eyelashes flutter. Finn canted his head to the side, stretching his neck to give Leo more skin to claim, and pulled Logan in again. A duet shifting to a trio and slotting perfectly into place, patching the gaps in the music that Finn didn’t even notice were there.

This was worth it. It had to be. As much as it would kill him – or any of them, really – to love them and then lose them, that would still be better than not loving them at all.

They’d wanted this for so long now, all of them. Even with all the stress and hurt and doubt, Finn couldn’t help but feel a little giddy. For fuck’s sake, he was kissing Logan. It wasn’t part of a mission. And Leo was still pressing kiss after kiss to his neck because he wanted to. They wanted each other.

Screw panicking about losing them. Finn was done missing things because he was worried about things that might not even happen. It wasn’t something he could just will away or turn off, of course, but he could actively make sure he was living in the current moment. And right then, the current moment was making out with his boys in a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

He loved the current moment.

The kiss turned to simply smiling against Logan’s mouth, delirious with contentment, so Finn broke away and pulled Logan in for a hug, then gently maneuvered Leo to join them, making sure his wound was well out of the way. They stayed like that for a long time, relaxing in the closeness and adjusting to the newness of all of this. And even though it was new, it was already something they were quickly getting addicted to. The string connecting Finn’s heart to theirs cinched tighter and pulled sharply. For the first time, he didn’t mind it in the slightest. It was no longer a painful reminder of what he couldn’t have, it was an exhilarating sign that were all irreversibly intertwined, both in each other’s arms and in this crazy mess that was their lives.

Leo interrupted the moment with a yawn, blinking sleepily. Finn smiled a little at the sight – he almost felt like he was doing too much of that in the past few minutes, but sleepy Leo was simply adorable.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Logan urged. It would be a tight squeeze, the three of them in that bed, but now they could cuddle and press close without pretending it didn’t happen the next morning. Finn sighed happily at the thought and headed for the light switch. The light from the lamp on the bedside table illuminated his way back to his boys, all soft and stretched out next to each other under a pale comforter. It was a much-needed reprieve from the chaos of their current situation that Finn was all to eager to take advantage of.

He watched as Logan propped himself up on one arm to look down at Leo, hand trailing through that tuft of gray hair and then tugging on it playfully. They shared a smile before Logan leaned down the rest of the way to kiss him, assured and familiar and unrushed. They’d done this before. The knowledge didn’t tear at Finn’s heart like it would have a week ago, because now he knew that they felt the same way about him. And he was falling for them, too. Watching the two boys he was half in love with already so comfortable and loving with each other? How was Finn supposed to handle all the emotions bubbling over in his chest? He crawled into bed next to Logan and flicked the lamp off, settling the room into darkness.

Logan settled in to sleep facing Finn and with Leo’s reassuring warmth behind him. His eyes closed and time slowed, a blessed mercy. The events of tomorrow felt years away in that still, quiet moment. But there was something prodding at the back of Logan’s mind – some strange, uncomfortable feeling that he could quite place, until he realized that everything was too still, too quiet. His mind flashed to the litany of “what ifs” that had looped in his brain like a mantra back in that hospital room and he rolled over quickly, shuffling over until his head was pillowed on Leo’s chest, far away from the bandages.

Thump-thump.

Leo’s chest rose and fell under Logan’s head as he breathed and Logan let himself relax, reaching blindly behind him until he found Finn’s arm and flung it over himself, loosely intertwining their fingers over his chest. Finn moved in closer to press against his back and tangle their legs together. He sighed before going still again, breaths deep and even.

And Logan finally, finally let himself drift off to sleep.

#lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast #coops #remus lupin #sirius black #o'knutzy #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #clandestine #cw: hospital #cw: injuries #cw: mentions of blood #cw: medical drugs

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