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deadinside-butstill-horny · 3 years

Text

The Night We Met

Part Three - Most Of You

Pairing: Javier Peña/ Female Murphy!Reader

Words: 10k - Word count got away from me.

Summary: We learn a little about Y/N’s past. Tequila is involved and inhibitions lowered.

Content Warnings: Mentions of death, themes of PTSD,18+ SMUT warning, oral, fingering, dirty talk, penetrative sex. Lots and lots of consent, cause consent is sexy and you know our boy Javi is nothing if not respectful.

MASTERLIST

AO3

Author Note: I really enjoyed writing this. It’s absolutely just porn with minor plot but I have no regrets.

Got the gif from this photo set during the week because THAT’S THE SMILE I’M ON ABOUT. That cute as fuck half smile; it melts my heart.

Part One - Part Two

It just so happened that when Javier decided to stop trying to seduce you, the two of you could actually be around one another and have a good time. Well, not quite as good as that night. But in the grand scheme of things; good-ish.

After the debauchery that had occurred outside of the church the two of you had ceremonially agreed to a ceasefire on all hostilities with your second meeting. You were equal parts surprised and disappointed that Javier had been on his best behaviour, the two of you had successfully bought the ingredients and were currently producing what was sure to be a decent breakfast without either of you ending up naked.

He was the picture of domesticity as he sat on the counter top with a beer in his hand at 8:15am as you whisked some eggs in a bowl using a fork, you paused for a moment, taking a sip of your own beverage, then resuming your task as you threw the eggs into the too hot pan making them sizzle on the skillet.

"No, no, no, no." Javier cried and pushed himself off of the counter as he tutted, coming to your side and placing his hand on the curve of your waist to move you out of his way. His hand slithers forward and lingers a second on your own fingers before he takes the spatula and puts space between the two of you to manage the task at hand.

For a moment, you're perplexed. The movement itself wasn't particularly invasive or breaking from the gentlemanly persona he had adopted in the last two hours, but rather it was an act of, well, familiarity. Which reason dictates simply shouldn’t exist between the two of you.

You had known each other for a grand total of 48 hours and that was being generous as you had been comatosed for easily 15 of those. He had a bad habit of popping up when you least expected it and disarming you with an easy smile.

You didn’t like how he made you feel. Everything you said, you measured his reaction, a pull of his lip, a flash of his teeth or a narrow of his brow; these were his tells, well his obvious ones.

You tried desperately to convince yourself that this was platonic analysis. It would seem you could kid Javier but you couldn’t trick yourself. You felt things for the man that you really shouldn’t after knowing him for two days. You were frustrated with the situation, he’d slept with another woman hours after your encounter. You were jealous, sure, but not betrayed.

It was a matter of pride, that evening had somewhat extinguished the fire for the bronzed man who was currently trying to save the eggs you’d flash fried. What you were experiencing were embers. Yes, embers. The fire hadn’t completely been doused and all you had was a residual heat. A deep glowing burning heat, sure. But eventually reality would be sure to dump some more water on this fire and you wouldn’t feel this lingering need for the man, right?

“¡Espero que te gusten los huevos calientes!” Javier hollered over the sizzling with a smirk on his face as he scraped at the pan with the instrument he’d stolen from you.

“Eggs and Hot? That’s all I got!” You question a smile warming your face, apparently his enthusiasm was contagious.

He chuckled at your words and nodded, “Tu español no es tan malo linda dama!”

“I got nothin’ besides español,'' you shrug. Javier let out another snicker, he seemed to laugh a lot but he was missing the soft wrinkles bracketing his mustache which made you think that maybe this wasn’t his natural state. There was a light silence whilst he sliced the loaf of bread you’d picked from the store. As you were setting the table your book caught your eye from its place on the coffee table and you couldn’t resist trying out some of your newly learnt infant level language.

“Hola Javier, mi nombre es Y/N. Mi color favorito es el Y/F/C.¡Me gustan los perros!”

(My name is Y/N, My Favourite colour is Y/F/C. I like dogs!)

Javier turned around his expression; a picture of incredulousness. His eyebrows met in the middle of his forehead, his mustache almost touching his nose as you got a view of his brilliant white teeth in a genuine honest to god grin. If you had a camera, you’d have captured that moment.

“I’ll have to be careful around you, huh, sunshine? These new Spanish skills of yours could get me into trouble.”

“Bailar es divertido!” You exclaim using the only Spanish phrase you know.

“What?...Dancing is fun?... Where the hell did you learn this stuff?”

“Español … para... niños”

“Española para niñas” Javier corrected helpful “Unless you’ve got something you need to tell me...”

“Damn! The masculine and feminine, they briefly touched upon the theory in Spanish for Kids. It wasn’t as in depth as you might think though.” You joke with a huff. “Hey, do you know where I can get a better translating book?”

“Learning Spanish, huh? How long are you plannin�� on staying exactly?” You jump at the addition of a third voice, Steve appears looking thoroughly rested with his voice two octaves lower than it should be.

“Well ya’ know Stevie, it’s pretty ignorant to not learn a little of the language of the country you’re in.”

“You didn’t answer the question.” Steve points out, you’d hoped he would give in and let it go considering Javier was here. Though seeing as he greeted his partner whilst grabbing a cup of coffee before turning expectantly towards yourself, your chances of skirting around the subject seemed slim.

“I don’t have any commitments at home, not like I got the hospital waiting for me to come back. So... I’mma stay… ya know … live a little!”

“Gillian? She’s not waiting for you?”

“Nah, I quit.”

“You quit?! It took you fuckin’ ages to get that job.”

“Stevie, If I have to clean up puke in a fucking grocery store once more. I honestly don't think I can take it- don’t look at me like that. Three times is three times too many!”

“You’re fuckin’ out of your mind. This isn’t a holiday.”

“No, but I need some change, you clearly need to get your ass kicked back in line. We both win! If you help me get a job it’ll be great… I can practically speak Spanish already....”

“I dispute that.” Javier piped up.

“Shut up.” You say as you throw the tea towel at him. “Look Stevie. Everything’s fine. You were fine with Connie and Olivia being here. I’m a grown ass woman.” There was silence as Javier continued moving around the kitchen, only this lull was a little heavier, you chalk it up to you being the youngest and the only girl in a family with three brothers. God knows they’d been benching you your entire life.

“Fine.” Steve huffed and sat down at the table as you and Javier served up. The man in question gave you a conspiratorial wink as you passed one another. Nothing more was said on the matter as you tucked into breakfast. Infact, pleasant conversation was kept up all through the meal until it came time for Javier and Steve to go.

“We gotta get into the embassy. Heard rumours the new boss starts soon and we need to get our ducks in a row.” Steve nodded to Javier's words. “You ready to get back in the ring?”

“Been ready for the past two weeks, man. This leave of absence was bullshit”

Steve grabs his coat as you watch expectantly, waiting for your invite to the boys club, that inevitably doesn’t come. Instead you receive a much more in character; “Stay in the apartment, for god sakes Y/N. Just for today. I’ve left my number on the pad if you need me.”

You nod noncommittally and combined with a shrug the action hits its mark as Steve sighs.

“This isn’t funny. Bogotá isn’t safe for you.” You repeat your action, this time without the shrug. He huffs but carries on out of the door, he must have realised that was as much as an acquiescence as he was going to recieve, Javier follows him but stops on the threshold.

“Te encontraré ese libro, Guapa.” He calls out before closing the door behind him.

“no hablo español, motherfucker!” You shout after him, you vaguely hear his warm chortle as he descends down the stairs. With your legs propped up on the chair in front of you, you huff and look around the room. The absolute assholes had left you with the washing up. Yeah, feminism was definitely taking a hit during your time in Colombia.

Apparently the agents hadn’t got the memo about the change in gender roles, you cursed their names as you turned on the radio to some latin music and began the arduous process of cleaning the entire kitchen, including the appliances and counters you hadn’t even used.

You then moved onto the lounge, hey, if you were going to play the role of housewife, you were going to at least be a good one. You hoovered, reorganised and dusted your ass off for at least three-ish hours before you got bored, abandoning your work for snooping, you were only human after all.

First you looked in the medicine cabinet and found nothing good, I mean, you don’t know what crazy drugs you were expecting your brother, the DEA agent, to have in his possession but you were crestfallen with the dull discovery of a spare toothpaste, American xanax and ‘aspirina bebé’.

With a lamentful sigh you took your sleuthing into the bedroom, pulling his bedside drawer open with a hesitant hand. You don’t know what dark sexual preferences your brother and Connie may or may not have and you didn’t want to risk permanent scarring. As you open it fully you glance inside remaining tentative, your eyes first fall on the badge left behind. He must have forgotten it. You take it out and place it on the bed beside you as you continue to investigate.

Your hands find a wad of folded yellow notepad paper, the jagged edges have been ripped from the main pad in frustration. Unfolding the wad, you do a once over of the sheet in front of you. The words ‘Dear Connie,’ make you halt in your sted. Finding a gimp mask or weed was funny, this however crossed a line. So you placed the notes back where you found them, you turned to grab the badge and place it back on top of the pile but as the light shone on the metal an idea sprung to mind.

To say you were famed for your impulse control issues was an understatement. You often acted first with no regard for the consequences, hence your presence in Colombia and your extensive shoe collection. But as you drove your brother's Jeep through the streets of Bogotá, you realised that you may finally push Steve over the edge. Already in too deep you took the final turn, following the map you had spread out on the passenger side and were greeted with the American flag. Eureka. You had taken an embarrassing amount of wrong turns but had finally arrived.

You pulled up to the barrier and smiled at the Colombian guard donned in a dark green uniform.

“Hola, Agent Murphy DEA asked me to drop off his badge.” You wiggle the object of your deceit in his eye line.

“Identification?” The guard asked in heavily accented English. You shut off the car's engine as you turn to your purse and pull your driver's license out and hand it over. He inspects the plastic, looking between you and the ID before nodding and handing it back to you, definitely not a social butterfly. He then waved to the gentleman controlling the barrier, allowing you access.

“DEA office is to the right. Personnel only.”

“I’ll be in and out, quick as a flash.” You reassuringly smile at the man and receive only a stony glare in return. Deciding to stop pushing the apparently limitless bounds of your dumb luck you pull through the barrier and into the car park on the right. You park up in what you hope is an unreserved space and hop out of the tall vehicle.

“Right, what's the plan again?” you mumble to yourself as you pause for a second, before starting towards the cream building and hopping up the stairs. You cling to the badge like a life raft, terrified you’ll be stopped as the imposter sight-seerer you are. Now in your defence, you knew this was dumb. Steve had an important job and distracting him wasn’t helpful in the least, but you couldn’t help yourself. Stay inside- like that was ever going to happen.

So you scoured the offices of the embassy for about fifteen minutes before you decided to break and ask for help, finally stopping an american looking woman with large stylish shoulder pads and even bigger hair.

“I’m looking for the DEA office? Steve Murphy, Javier Peña?” She seemed to bristle at the mention of the latter.

“Take that elevator to the third floor and it's the third door on the left, but watch out for Peña, he’s a real- '' She cut herself off with a huff, before nodding your way and walking off.

No shit, sister.

Following the potentially scorned woman's instructions you found yourself in the DEA Bogotá headquarters; only Steve and Javier were nowhere to be seen.

Fuck.

You looked around the room taking a slight step back getting ready to turn on your heel as an older white haired man entered the room.

“Hey Newbie, I need two copies of each of these and I need these faxed to the team in Medellín.”

“Uh-”

“I needed them there yesterday, so get to it.” He dumps the two huge piles of files into your arms as you stare at him bemused. Looking back you still don’t know why you didn’t say anything, but you rolled up your sleeves and whipped out that can-do attitude and got to work, at what was apparently your new guerilla admin job. And that is how Javier and Steve found you two hours later, fighting with a fax machine and on the phone to the office in Medellín.

“No- I understand how the machine works… Yes… Yes I’ve turned it off and on, I think the problems on your side… No I don’t- Well Weaver needed the case file there yesterday so you need to figure something out! Yes… Yes I’ll hold. “ You turned when you heard steps behind you, pressing the receiver between your head and your shoulder and holding the fax machine manual.

“Hey Guys!” You say cheerily, pretending like this was completely normal, like you hadn’t just dropped into Steve’s life and then surprised him every step of the way.

“What in the hell are you-” Steve started, however the woman on the other side of the phone decided to pick up, you held up one finger to the two of them as a pause.

“Oh, Hey Salome, It’s no problem… that’s great, I'll give it a try.” You drop the manual and press the green button on the fax machine, the machine begins making the whizzing sound you’d been chasing for the past twenty minutes. “Sounds all good on my end. Right, that's great I’ll send the rest across now. Thanks, have a nice day!”

“Am I high, right now? What the fuck is going on?” Steve’s tone matched his face with the disbelief painted upon it. He had taken a seat at the desk which just so happened to be next to the fax machine and copier. Javier sat at his own in front of the typewriter with a smirk on his face lighting up a cigarette.

“Uh, well... I came to give you your badge cause’ you forgot it at home and then Weaver asked me to do some copies. Turns out that security here is pretty lax, cause’ I’ve been copying and faxing classified case files for the past two hours and no one seems to know or care that I don’t work here.” Steve’s eye all but twitched as he rubbed at his face. He reached into his bottom drawer and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and began pouring himself a glass.

“Fine.” He actually shrugged after downing the drink in one. Damn, You weren’t sure which had broken him, yourself or Colombia. “Better you’re here where I can keep tabs on you...Javi, can we get her an actual job?”

“I’ll run it by Messina,” Javier shrugged as he stood from behind his desk. “Probably best not to mention the perusal of classified cases though.”

So that’s how the three of you ended up at dinner celebrating your new job four days later, you were officially an office administrator for the DEA in Colombia, heading to the CNP base of operations in Medellín alongside your brother and his partner as their administrator, well, from what you understood, you were their dogsbody. Your Spanish speaking ability had been greatly exaggerated but you were undeniably overqualified for the position, so, pending a background check you were through doors.

Your interview with Steve and Javi’s boss; Messina, had been nerve wracking and your Murphy name had won you no favours.

You’d given it your best and from what you could see you’d managed to convince her you were worth your salt.

Yep, you’d proved yourself totally capable and more importantly, completely willing to move around 8 hours away to Medellín to live on an army base where a drug cartel was incredibly active. According to Javi this had apparently made you a very appealing hire to the DEA. As such you were being sent along with the boys to help out on the front line, well, as close to the front line as an admin/dogsbody gets.

The three of your glasses clinked in unison, before you drained your shot with a regretful gasp, Tequila was the devil.

“Thank you to Javi, for not only saving my sister from her stupidity once, but twice… or is it three times now?!” Steve lifted his second shot as he gave his heartfelt speech. Picking up the lime you’d just sucked the juice out of you launched it at him, missing by some margin. He let out what could only be described as a snigger as both him and Javi threw their second shots back.

If you were completely honest with yourself, you were wasted.

The three of you had enjoyed a meal and many, many subsequent drinks. Knowing full well the two men had a distinct advantage of having had at least a year to pickle their livers in whiskey from the stress of this place, you had insisted that for every two drinks they had, you had one. .

Still, six drinks in with no sign of stopping you felt better than you really had any right to. The room had yet to start spinning and for those small mercies, you were thankful.

“Nah, Thankyou to you both! I’ve heard Medellín is lovely this time of year!”

“Well, you won’t know. You’ll be spending all of your time on base, where it’s safe.”

“Steve-”

“Non-negotiable. You wanna come to Medellín, fine. But you do what I say, and no Y/N’s day out like in Bogotá.”

“Dude, you’re such a buzz-kill!”

“Dude? What are you 15?!” Javier jokes with a cigarette between his lips. You’d been here only a week and yet he’d managed to navigate how to defuse an impending Murphy fight from a mile away.

“You should’a seen her at 15. Those teeth!”

“Ya’ got any pictures?” Javi asks, half distracted with flagging down the waitress and showing her five fingers.

“Really Steve, you wanna go there? After the earring incident?” Javier turns his full attention on you.

“Murphy had an earring?”

“No-” Steve tries to interrupt.

“Yep, a nice little hoop.”

“I didn’t…”

“It got caught on his windbreaker and he ripped it out of his ear, it got infected.”

“Wind breaker?” Javier was biting his lip and staring at your brother, not really trying so hard to contain his laughter.

“Can’t think why I didn’t want you around, Sis. Look- I was trying something out; It didn’t work, so I moved on.” You wait a beat, allowing Javier to take in the information before you helpfully and without prompt drop a nugget of information for the Hispanic man.

“... He had to go to hospital.” A chortle burst unintentionally from Javier’s chest as your comment caught him by surprise.

“Y/N!” Steve burst out in frustration, making you cackle with glee.

“Okay, Okay.” You hold your hands in mock surrender as the waitress drops another round of drinks on the table.

“Let’s head over to the discotheque, live music- no Sicario’s. Big with Bogotá policia so very safe.” Javier pitched like he was speaking to a child as he tried to convince Steve. He knew you were in from the excitement that lit up your form.

“I don’t know, dancing-”

“Would be good for you! Come on Steve, this place is closing soon anyway-” You counter, only to be cut off as he frantically looks at his watch.

“What time is it- I promised I’d phone Con tonight- FUCK!” He stood quickly grabbing the table to steady himself and ran to the phone box just outside of the bar, you could just about see him from where you sat in the window booth besides Javi.

The two of you looked at one another for a moment, you weren’t quite at the level where conversation came easy, but you weren’t uncomfortable by any means.

“Thanks for talking to Messina for me… honestly. You’ve done so much for me since I got here.”

“Like I said, it’s no problem, guapa.” He smiles at you, not a smirk for once but a delighted easy smile that rarely graces his face. “I saw your CV.”

“Oh.” The smile drops off of your face, his eyes analyse your reaction, the easy smile replaced by a sombre expression.

“Yeah, Oh. You were a doctor, a surgeon? I thought you mopped up vomit in a grocery store in Miami?”

“It’s complicated.” You gave him no further explanation, you expected him to move on, except Javier wasn’t like other people, he didn’t make things easy. He stared at you expectantly with those deep brown questioning eyes. “Christ, okay. Yes I was in my final year of residency, not quite a surgeon.”

“How does that happen?”

“How does what happen?” You question, you know you’re being difficult but this isn’t something you’ve talked about with Steve, for Godsakes. He did that trick once more, hitting you with those soul-full eyes.

Honestly, it was lucky you weren’t working for Escobar, forget waterboarding, all Javi would have to do was look at you to get you to give up your darkest secrets. “Things didn’t go my way, I wasn’t happy there. The hours were long and that shit was heavy.”

He didn’t seem satisfied with your answer but he didn’t push any further, finally respecting your reluctance, he nodded. Stubbing out his cigarette and tilting his head towards the shots he asked “...Another?”

“Why not?” You reply hesitantly.

Taking the salt you go to shake it onto the back of your hand when a tanned one stops your movement in its wake.

“No, no, no. Let’s do it a little different.” His eyes shot up to where your brother was leaning against the phone booth before he took your hand in his. Adjusting his grip he lifts your wrist to his mouth. Your heart is beating in your ears as you watch as his pink tongue pokes out and laps one, twice at your pulse point. A long line of saliva is left on your wrist as he shakes the salt over it. His eyes meet yours for a moment, as if asking permission.

You don’t know how you even instruct your brain to nod, but regardless you carry out the action. Javi brings his mouth to your wrist once more in one solid stroke of his talented tongue, your eyes clamp closed as he finishes swiping up the salt before draining both the tequila and lime.

You’re breathing heavy as you open your eyes, to find those mahogany ones laser focused on you.

“You missed a step.” You mumble, your eyes never leaving his as you hold the lime up to his mouth, rind first. His teeth close over it and his lips just barely graze your fingertips. You turn to check on Steve, thankfully your brother has his back to the two of you, deep in conversation with Connie. Probably for the best, given your plan.

You turn sideways to face Javi, lifting one of your legs up onto the booth and bending it at the knee to get a vantage point. The alcohol coursing in your veins gives you the courage as one hand wraps around his neck and the other his shoulder, you lean forwards to give one long solitary lick up his neck, right on the pulse. You taste his sweat stained skin, salty and warm on your tongue.

Reaching for the shaker, you apply it liberally, smiling as you drop some of it down his t-shirt. Though from the stare he seemingly refused to remove from you, you don’t think he much cared. Once you considered your job done, you turned back and pushed his head to the side and began licking the salt from his neck, this time you tortured him with three small cat licks along the flesh, you felt his neck tense as his hand moved from its place on the pleather booth and wrapped around your thigh.

You reached back to the table and sank your shot. Wincing you turned back to Javier, leaning forward to grab the lime from his mouth. As you did so, he dropped it purposefully, staring directly into your eyes, a clear challenge, before he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you forward locking your lips in a devastating kiss. He tasted of lime, tequila and just Javier; that unexplainable component which was both sweet and smoky. His tongue plundered the depths of your mouth, seemingly uncaring of your brother who was mere metres away. Your hands roved his chest before locking in the short hair on the nape of his neck.

Unexpectedly it was Javi who broke the kiss. The two of you paused with your foreheads meeting, much like the night you met. He seemed to be trying to regain control.

“Meet me in the bathroom?” You whisper, rubbing your nose against his beautifully angular hooked one. He breathed out heavily through his nose, his eyes opening and pushing you away by your shoulders.

“No, I’m not gonna fuck you in the fucking bathrooms of a filthy fucking bar- are you crazy?” Behind his eyes a rage and arousal battled, apparently you had rattled him with your question, he reached forward for his whiskey, and took a sip whilst shaking his head and trying to centre himself. “I’m giving you whiplash? Yeah that’s real cute. You change what you want every single fuckin’ day, then look at me like I’m a dick.”

You supposed he had a point, after all you had been the one to ask for the redo and then stared at him longingly every day since. “It’s not an easy situation to navigate, ok? I came here for Steve-”

“You didn’t come here for Steve.” He uttered under his breath, staring straight ahead with his elbow perched on the table and holding the glass to his mouth.

“Excuse me?”

“You didn’t come here for Steve, not completely. You came here for you.”

“That’s not-” Javier turns to you, locking you down with his gaze. It was easy to forget he was a cop; observative and attentive to a fault, he could call your bullshit from a mile away.

“Everything you’ve done since you got here, that’s not for him. You’re desperate for some life back in those veins. You don’t just give up being a fuckin’ surgeon and feel fulfilled with your position at a fuckin’ grocery store, Sunshine.”

“Wow, you’ve got me pegged, huh? No wonder they’ve got you after Escobar, best detective on the fucking case.” You roll your eyes refusing to look at him, sipping a beer as a way of hiding how he’s unnerved you. Everything he’s saying true and you’re ashamed of yourself.

“You don’t come down to the embassy if you’re trying to make your brother's life easier. I’m not criticizing Guapa, but how about cutting the bullshit messiah complex.”

You’re embarrassed and trying to look anywhere but him. His hand reaches for your own as Steve rounds the corner, the tanned fingers instead lock around the shot glass in front of you.

“So, what’d I miss?” Your voice is lodged in your throat, you don’t think you could speak even if you could think of the words you wanted to use. Javi answers in some nondescript way you don’t even really listen to before ordering another round of drinks.

“Y/N/N, You alright?” Steve asked, ever the concerned brother.

(your nickname)

“Yeah, Javi- uh, he saw my cv.” It wasn’t a complete lie but you still feel bad for using past trauma to make your brother skirt around the issue in the way you knew he would.

“Oh, Uh… Drink?” Steve stared at you, uneasy.

“Yeah, a drink would be great.” Your voice is monotone to even your ears, you reach forward and down the beer in front of you, desperate for this awkwardness to be over and the feeling in the pit of your stomach to vanish. You’re happy to say after around ten minutes of the two men holding up the conversation, it atleast eases slightly.

There’s a lull as you all wait drinks arrive and you have managed to regain your basic motor skills. This is the selfishness Javi is talking about. Steve needs a good night, without feeling crappy about his damaged sister stealing the lime-light. So putting your best foot forward you look across to Javi and smile.

“So, how was Connie?”

“She’s good! She’s enjoying getting back to work, her sister’s having Liv during the day.” Guilt swells in your stomach once again. You should be there making Connie’s life easier, but instead you abandoned her to play the hero in Colombia. The shame spiral is slowly clawing at your stomach, as you force yourself to take a deep breath.

“That’s good…” You’re saved by the bell, or rather the waitress bringing over the tray of beverages. Taking your beer first, you reach across and controversially take two of the shots. Both men chuckle at your bravado as Javi asks the woman for an extra shot.

The night continued on much like that, minus the regret whirlwind as the tequila seemed to help get rid of any real self reflection. The three of you didn’t even make it to the discotheque, as by the time the bar closed, the three of you began the short walk home, you were carrying the large box of pizza that you had insisted on ordering.

Surprisingly, Steve was the drunkest of your trio. His phone call with Connie had sent him into his own spiral. He began drinking tequila like it was water, to the point Javier had thrown in the towel, deciding he’d much rather like to live to see tomorrow. So with your pizza in one arm and your other wrapped around your brother's waist, you and Javi half carried Steve home and up the stairs into the apartment.

The two of you unceremoniously dumped him on his bed, carefully you placed the pizza box you had cradled to your breast on the chest of drawers before you stepped forward past Javier.

You pulled Steves boots off of his feet and pulled his legs up onto his bed, taking his belongings out his pockets; yes, including his gun, you placed them on the bedside table. You then placed a glass of water and an aspirin next to them, feeling sympathy for his head tomorrow morning.

Happy that your job was done, you shut the light off and went into the living room, once again cradling the pizza. Javier was slouched on the sofa/your bed flicking through your Spanish introduction book, as you entered the room he threw it back on the table and pointed at the empty whiskey bottle on the coffee table.

“Got any more?”

“Think, that was his last one…” you shrug.

“Come down to mine for a drink? I don’t like how we left things.”

“No more talking?” Javier looks at you reproachfully, scanning your body as if the direct proposition you’d accidentally given him was the last thing he expected. “Uh- I mean- no more hard questions and no more...touching.”

“Alright.” He nods, pushing himself up with a sigh. “But if there’s no more touching, I get half of that pizza Sunshine.”

You nod and smile, following him down the stairs to his apartment. As you cross the threshold emboldened by tequila, you don’t dwell on your self destructive tendencies as Javier’s recent comments would’ve made you if you were sober.

You’re tired and all you want is a drink of whiskey, some pizza and for Javier to give you that smile, the one that makes the side of his mustache raises and reveals the pearly white of his teeth. Dropping the pizza down on the coffee table you make yourself at home, sitting very deliberately on the couch he hadn’t screwed someone else on. If he notices, Javi didn’t say anything.

He hurried over, cigarette balanced in between his lips as both hands were taken up. One holding two glasses and the other cradling the whiskey. He sits himself down with considerably more grace than you had, on the other sofa. You reach down the side of the sofa where you spy the remote peeking out from beneath the leather cushion and begin skimming through the channels until you find the telenovelas you'd unironically begun watching since arriving in Colombia.

Opening the box of Pizza, you take a slice and begin devouring the meal. It’s not quite like pizza as you know it, but it's tasty and full of carbs to soak up the alcohol so you can’t find a fault with it. The two of you eat in silence for around half an hour.

It seemed neither of you were eager to break the silence after the daunting conversation from earlier. It’s as you’re taking your first sip of whiskey watching two women argue in Spanish on the television you decide to speak.

“I figure I owe you some answers.”

“You don’t owe me shit, Sunshine.” He’s leaning back in his seat, whiskey balancing on his knee and a fresh smoke in his hand. “Sure I’m intrigued, but I'll figure you out in the end. Miami’s own angel of death?”

You chuckle at how close to the mark he is as he makes a shot in the dark. “I’m gonna need a refill if we’re gonna talk about our feelings…”

“Feelings… woah, woah, woah. I didn’t sign up for that.” He has a brazen smirk on his face, as he takes the now empty glass from your palm and fills it up. You down a second and he repeats the task.

“I killed a kid,” You wheeze as you wince from the burn turning your head towards the television and nursing the now full whiskey glass between your hands. “You asked why I gave up becoming a surgeon. I... I was the lead resident on a fuckin’ appendectomy. I could do that shit in my sleep. I perfed the abdominal wall as I was geting ready to close him up; a tiny fucking knick. There were no bleeders and his vitals remained normal, didn’t even notice I’d done it. It was as they were taking him back to the ward, he just crashed.”

You finish another glass and as your eyes water, you pretend it's the burn of the alcohol. You breathe heavy, your upper lip quivering. You’ve heard of the sensation but never felt it.

“I froze. I opened him up in the lift, by the time I got back in there, he’d bled out. A twelve year old; Justin Miller. Just a fucking kid.” Javi doesn’t try to interrupt or make you feel better, which honestly made the whole thing easier.

“His mom sued the shit out of me and the hospital, can’t say I blame her. I took a sabbatical and when it was time to go back, I couldn’t. Couldn’t go into the OR without having a fuckin’ panic attack.” You hadn’t met Javi’s eyes for the entirety of the one-sided conversation, scared that when you looked up you’d no longer find those treacle eyes filled with warmth.

Silence fills the air for a devastating second whilst Javier digests your words.

“You fucked up.” He mumbled finally, your eyes shot up to his own and within the pools of chocolate you found his usual warmth, though his customary jovial expression was suddenly somber. Such an expression looked strange on the gentle man you’d come to know, but you knew it was far from out of place. “In our line of work, you mess up; someone dies. It’s not fair or easy, just is what it is.”

You don’t have a word for the noise you make, somewhere between a scoff and a gasp. You chuckle as his response to years of complex trauma you’ve never recovered from is boiled down to five simple words.

“It is what it is.” You repeat disbelieving.

“Can’t change the past. Useless to try.”

“Stuff it down with the brown?” You ask, lifting your empty glass in a cheers.

“Exactly, Guapa.” He unscrewed the whiskey bottle and began pouring you a generous portion. As he’s screwing the lid back on he sits back down, this time though he’s on the couch next to you. “Maybe someday I’ll get teary and we can talk about my fuck ups.”

Your only response is to punch at his hard thigh next to you as you take a long sip, thinking about the information you’d willingly just divulged to Javi. “I’ve never talked about that before.”

“Not with Steve?”

“Not with anyone. I was ashamed for a long time, still am. But it’s different now; more manageable.”

“Ready to operate then, Doctor Murphy?”

“Asshole.” You say with a reluctant smile to the joke at your own expense.

“pendejo” he leaned back on the sofa as he translated.

“pen-dejo?”

“Si muy bueno.”

“Another!”

“Coger!”

“Co-g-er?”

“Si insistes…” He trails off with a smirk.

“You’re a dick.”

“Yes, I am.”

After placing your drink on the coffee table, you lean over to Javi slowly, refusing to break eye contact, all the while and you lay your head on the plush leather of the sofa; nearer his shoulder than his own face.

“Thankyou, Javi.”

“I keep telling you, Sunshine. It’s nothing”

“It’s everything,” You close the distance and place a kiss on his lips. It’s neither heavy nor chaste, like when he initiated them. This is full of meaning, It speaks of letting go of the past and welcoming the future, it's deep and warm and delicious. Your tongue licks at his own as your hand rises to rest on his cheek holding him there, you explore the depths of his mouth instead of conquering them. He tastes of the whiskey and somehow residual tequila, you find yourself getting drunk off of the taste of him.

Pulling away you rest your forehead against his own. “I’m so tired… and drunk.”

“Sleep with me.”

“Javier, you said- I mean, I don’t think-”

“No, sleep. Just sleep... with me. Gotta be better than the couch up there,”

“No funny business?”

“Scouts honor.” After a moment of contemplation you decide that this was specifically breaking the rules of your selfishness, the tequila may have altered your perception of the rules somewhat but you had wanted this man for so long. After your emotional confession, falling asleep next to him seemed cathartic.

You take the remote once more and click the red power button, the screen goes black as Javier has already disappeared into his bedroom. You hear him rummaging around in his drawers as you cross the threshold. Once he’s seemingly found what he was looking for, he holds the article up to your inspecting eye.

It’s a plain olive green v-neck tee, nothing particularly special about it, but it would do as pyjamas, so you accept it gratefully, much preferring a tshirt to the sundress you’d worn out to dinner. You push the straps off of your shoulders, letting them fall under your armpits as you clutch the dress to your front. You pull Javier's t-shirt over your head and are greeted by the fragrance you’d come to love. It smelt like washing powder, spice and cigarette smoke, you wouldn’t say smoke was on your top tier of smells list but it reminded you of Javi so you couldn’t bring yourself to turn your nose up at it.

Once the shirt was covering all the important bits, you lowered your dress and stepped out of the offending cloth.

“A little late for modesty, eh?” He smirks as he lights his cigarette, leaning against the pillows of the bed. He was referring to the morning after you’d arrived in Colombia, where you’d walked through this very apartment, bare as the day you were born.

At some point Javi had rid himself of his dress shirt and dropped onto the bed still wearing his jeans. You shimmy your bra down the sleeve of the tee, to make a point. Winking at him as you finally pull it free. You fling it on top of where your dress lay abandoned.

“You’re still a perv for that.” You smile fondly at the man as you clamber over to your side of the bed. He’d taken the left, closest to the door. He doesn’t reply as you make yourself cosy, under the thin blanket of the duvet.

You roll over to face him, he seems to be miles away.

“Where’d you go?” You ask softly, though he startles still.

“I’m right here,” He deflects, leaning over to the ash tray to stub the smoke out.

“Ok…” You roll your eyes as he turns off the lamp and lies flat on the bed next to you. The two of you are silent for a while. It’s not quite awkward but it's definitely not comfortable silence, the two of you know the implications of your decision tonight. Even if Javi is being a perfect gentleman. Your eyes have yet to acclimate to the dark as you stare out trying to search for his form.

“Stop staring at me.”

“It’s dark, I’m not staring at anything.” You reply to his childish remark. You hear a chuckle catch in his throat. He seems then to have finally made his decision, he reaches forward and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you to his chest. You go to stop him, but there's nothing to stop. He makes no further move as he holds you there. Your cheek rests on the overheated skin of his pectoral, it has just enough give to be comfier than any pillow you’ve ever encountered.

“Maybe, I’ll tell you about my fuck ups one day.” He whispers into your hair, despite the way he says it being non-committal there's a promise behind the words. You don’t reply, already drifting off into the best sleep you’ve had since arriving in Colombia, or perhaps ever.

A part of your brain registers Javi placing a kiss on the crown of your head as your eyes finally shut, though it is quickly replaced by the singular thought of ‘God, I hope I don’t drool all over him.

“You sober?” You look up at the clock on the bedside table that reads 5am. You’d been asleep for about four hours. You make a non committal noise in your throat.

“Javi?” You mumble sleepily, the man behind you is peppering kisses on your neck.

“You want this?” Again you groan, this time however, you nod your head. His arm rises to wrap around your neck, arching your back to get you closer to him. “Do you want this?”

“God yes.” You gasp, pushing your hips back against his bulge. His hands release your stomach as he kisses down your neck once more. His hands are hard on your flesh as they map out your body in the dark.

His hands continue to roam your body as they slide under his shirt, they land on your breasts, he can’t help himself as he weighs them in his hand. He groans in your ear at the feel of them in his palm. You’d always had Javier down as an ass man, he’d nearly burnt a hole through your jeans the night you’d met. But apparently Javi was a man of many tastes as he worshiped your nipple with the pads of his fingers, rolling the sensitive bud through his thumb and forefinger.

You groan at the sensation and push yourself back into him, desperate to feel every inch of his body against your own. You pull away suddenly and he makes a guttural sound in the back of his throat, though all of his questions are answered as you pull his shirt over your head and throw the offensive fabric across the room. As Quick as a flash he’s back on you, his mouth attached to your neck, giving you absolutely no quarter.

He’s the one bucking into you this time and that seems to awaken part of your brain, your hands reach behind you they’re clumsy from sleep and the angle you have is awkward, you struggle with the button of his jeans for a second before his hand leaves one of your breasts to undo it for you. His hand returns as quickly as it left though it doesn't stay there for long as it slowly roves south, stroking the flesh of your stomach and making your entire being tighten up in anticipation as he feels you through your boy shorts. His touches are light at first, testing and exploring your body, before his fingers begin teasingly rubbing at your clit seeming to delight in the way, your wetness seeped through your underwear.

You force your brain back to the task at hand as your hand finds his abdomen and lowers through the hair lurking below his zipper, mimicking the actions he had performed on you moments before, however you have no intention of teasing.

They find their mark, and you have to stop yourself from gasping. You’d felt him on the sofa that night but my god, your imagination hadn’t done him justice as your hand just about closed around him as you pumped him awkwardly behind you. He groaned in your ear and began whispering in a blend of Spanish and English.

His hands rise to dip under your panties, they brush across your mound before they find their home. His fingers barely touch you at first, seeming to be getting the lay of the land. After a moment of teasing, a single solitary finger swipes slowly along your slit, gathering the evidence of your arousal on his fingers.

He groaned in your ear. “So fucking wet, that sweet little cunt is so ready for me…” Instantaneously you lose all motor skills as your body goes into shock, Javier’s dirty mouth would be the death of you.

Fucksake Y/N he wasn’t even inside of you, yet here you were writhing in his arms like a wanton whore from a single sentence.

Your reaction seemed to spur him on as he let go of your body and rolled you onto your back. He swung around on his knees to fit between your legs. His hands rested on your hips, gripping onto the panties that lay there before he rolled them down your legs and threw them behind him. He leaned forward on his elbows, to stare at the most intimate part of you.

Javi began kissing down your thighs, placing small bites along the sensitive skin along the way, getting closer and closer to the throbbing warmth of your pussy.

“I meant what I said, cariño. I want to know how you taste.” Your mind is brought back to that church, the way he had you pushed against those bars, you didn’t think your body could constrict any further. You were desperate for any kind of contact. And you knew right there and then that you had been right; This man would destroy you.

He struck then, much like a cobra towards his prey. His tongue flattened against your warmth, breaching your folds and catching on your clit. The tip of his tongue was skilled as it danced along your bud, drawing cry after cry from you as your hands grabbed at his short ink black hair.

He takes one final lap at your swollen clit before his tongue goes lower, he pushes through and sinks his tongue inside of you. His nose, that you’d appreciated for its character bumped perfectly against your clit making stars shoot behind your eyes. You clenched around his tongue, desperate to be filled, he seemed to get the message as two fingers were quickly buried in your aching hole.

“So fucking tight, Guapa, I don’t know if I can fit three...te lo vas a tomar tan bien.” His tongue had risen back up to your clit, the combination of the vibration and filth of his words made a whimper drop from your lips, before he started rotating his tongue in circles around your swollen bud as his two fingers pumped in and out of your cunt at a thundering pace drawing you closer and closer to the edge as the minutes went by.

Finally, his fingers curled inside you as he sucked your clit into his mouth and all at once you were pushed off the cliff. You couldn’t tell what pushed you over that first peak so quickly, maybe it was the fact that it was Javier, the man who had been plaguing your dreams since you arrived in Colombia, currently between your legs devouring your cunt like a starving man, perhaps it was a culmination of five days of foreplay, but whatever the reason, when you fell, you fell fucking hard.

You clenched around Javi’s fingers like a vice, so much so he hissed into your pussy and began thrusting his fingers faster. Spots clouded your vision as your whole body curved upwards and around the man giving you this pleasure as your legs clamped around his head and your fingers must have scratched his scalp as your hips thrust, riding his face to your peak. You were as taut as bowstring before the tension finally snapped and your body exploded in euphoria. You let out a cry as you crescendo on Javi's talented tongue.

He didn’t stop straight away, even after your body slumped back against the bed, he coaxed you through the aftermath of your orgasm, lapping at your entrance and drinking your come like it was the most delicious wine he’d ever sampled, groaning all the while.

Finally, he pushed himself forward, kissing at your thighs, your mound and finally your stomach as he came to rest over you, holding all his weight on his elbows. His face met your own as he kissed you deep, fucking your mouth with his tongue as he had done your pussy moments before. He leans back rubbing at your stomach, at your hips, at any flesh he can get his hands on.

“Sabes mejor de lo que podría haber imaginado precioso.” He whispers against your breast as his mouth locks around your nipple. Javier Peña speaking Spanish did things to you, even if he hadn’t been stimulating your breasts you knew for a fact you’d be just as wet from hearing him speak in what you could only assume was a first language from the ease with which it left his mouth. You wished more than anything you could understand what was undoubtedly the filth coming from his mouth.

You had recovered enough from his assault on your clit, to move your hands from your sides. They raised up and traced the tanned skin on his chest. He really was beautiful. He pulled back to stare at you, giving you a clearer view of his body.

He was muscled yet lithe and you took a self indulgent moment, committing the sight of him to memory, before your hands wrapped around his cock, which was standing to full attention through the undone zip of his jeans. He was what must have been unbearably hard, if you’d have had light to see, you had no doubt the head of his cock would be purple, straining with need. You pushed his jeans further down, recruiting your feet to push them down over his ass. Your hands roamed down to squeeze at the bountiful offering of meaty flesh.

He chuckled as you pinched his cheek, before lifting his knees one at a time and kicking his jeans off of the bed and before you knew it he was lining himself up, brushing the head of his cock through your wet folds. Despite his groan at the contact, he had the discipline to check a final time. “This is what you want, Y/N?”

You didn’t bother to answer, you pushed his hand away from his cock, and pushed it towards your hole. You pushed your hips up against him in lieu of an answer, welcoming the head of his cock inside you. Even though all you could manage was shallow entry, the feel of him inside of you was glorious.

His hands, those talented, glorious hands found your own, wrapping his significantly larger ones around yours above your head. He pushed forward with one strong thrust of those lithe hips and he buried himself balls deep inside of you, rooted so deep you swear you could feel him in your cervix. He was everywhere, he was plundering every inch of you as his body surrounded your own, heat built between the two of you as sweat began coating both of your bodies.

Every thrust brought you closer to your second peak, turning your head you couldn’t resist trying to get him to claim your mouth too. Though you couldn’t quite reach far enough to make contact, as if reading your mind Javier bent his elbow pushing his torso forward, coincidently pounding deeper into your body as your lips joined in a messy kiss. He was fucking into you slow and deep, his tongue began following the rhythm of his cock as he claimed every single part of you as his own.

The pace was brutally slow, just enough to get you to that edge and keep you on it, you could barely speak. You felt like you were drowning in Javier and every time you came up for air he bottomed out, meeting your hips with his own and the wave of pleasure cut off the oxygen all over again.

“Please… Javi…”

“W-what do you want Sunshine?” He panted out continuing with his slow tempo.

“Faster...please... God.” He ignored your cry for speed and continued fucking you into the matress at his own pace, though his thrusts were just as slow but they were harder. His hips hit against your own, as he put all of his power behind them, getting as deep as he could. If you didn’t know better you’d think he was trying to tunnel through to your womb. You clenched at the thought as he fucked you deep and hard.

“... Javi…” You cried his name, a desperate plea as he kept you suspended over your peak, refusing to let you free fall. Finally he huffed, taking your legs and throwing them over his shoulders.

“You want me to fuck you properly, huh, Guapa?” He began thrusting into you at an arduous pace, the room was filled with your cries, his grunts and slapping of your connecting skin. Those telling black spots were clouding your vision, your second orgasm of the evening was fast approaching. Once again you clenched down on Javi’s thick cock.

“I’m gonna’ come.” His hand lowered and began rubbing at your clit, not pausing for a moment as he fucked you thoroughly.

“ven por mí...ven sobre mi polla… fuckin’ Sunshine, fucking taking my cock…. buena niña, podría follarte todo el día.” The second he lost his brain and began muttering in Spanish was the moment you were gone. You came for the second time as he was relentlessly hammering into you, drawing your orgasm from you. Your whole body braced against him, your eyes squeezed shut as you clamped down around his cock, milking him tightly.

“Fuck!” He growled at the tightness surrounding him.

After a few moments he pulled out, quickly grabbing your and flipping you onto your stomach, after placing a pillow under your hips. He then buried himself back inside of you to the hilt his groans mixing with your own at the sensation. He kept up the pace he had before but this time the angle was deeper as he forced your legs together with his thighs.

Javi’s hands grabbed at your ass (perhaps he was an ass man after all) slapping the meaty flesh which resided there and then instantly kneaded the tissue he’d just abused. His hands rose to carresse the skin of your hips before he took a punishing grip on them and began fucking you in earnest. Javier taking his pleasure from your body whilst you lay a drooling mess from the orgasm he’d already gave you was an image you didn’t know would turn you on, but it made you clench around his shaft as it plundered your depths.

He began speaking again, though they were lost in a mix of Spanish and English, so much so you couldn’t differentiate. His pace was relentless and finally you felt him begin to shake as he gasped above you

“¿dónde?...w...where?”

“Come inside me, Javi.” He groaned at words and continued pounding until his hips stuttered and he brought it home and buried himself deep inside, filling you to the brim with his seed.

The two of you lay there breathing heavy trying hard to get your breath back, half of his weight on top of you and the other half resting on the mattress.His cock was slowly going soft inside of you, yet you felt no urgency to move.

“So much for scouts honor, huh?” You ask from behind a veil of hair, turning your face which had been buried in the mattress moments before. Your voice is hoarse; completely wrecked much like the rest of you.

He’s silent for a moment of consideration, before he leans forward in the moonlight and pushes your hair from your face. The action makes his cock shift inside of you and a little of his release spills out onto your thighs. He continues anyway and places a soft kiss on your lips before whispering “... I was never a boy scout, cariño.”

TAGLIST - Leave a message if you’d like to be added homies.

@drinkingwhileblogging @va-guardianhathaway @jedi-jesi @obsessivelysearching @cannedsoupsucks @wantingtobekorra @littlemissoblivious @linnie0119 @pascalesque @pedrosmustache @sir-lili @obsessivelysearching @fairytale07

A/N: Fuck me that was the steamest shit I’ve ever written. This was especially for @drinkingwhileblogging and her turquoise titties, hope this makes up for me blue balling you all.

#javier pena x reader #javier peña #javier peña x reader #narcos fic #narcos fanfiction #murphy!reader #FUCKING SMIRK AT ME MORE JAVI I SWEAR TO GOD T-T #pedro pascal x reader

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the-peachpit · 3 years

Text

Sons Of A Crow

DSMP AU: Wilbur, Tommyinnit, Technoblade are siblings with an absent Father

Warning: Major Character Death

Summary: Philza left to defend L'manburg, Technoblade left to bring him home, Wilbur stayed and watched Tommy grow on his own. Too young to watch over himself and suddenly watching the struggles of others something broke inside Wilbur. his family reunion wasn't what he wanted, but maybe- what they all needed.

In this story L'manburg was a city that always existed and was ready to erupt without the help of Wilbur or Tommy.

Also consider following me on Twitter for more insights on stories! @Thepeachpit_

Orange leaves danced through the sky when Wilbur said goodbye to his father watching his back become a silhouette against the sun. It was fall, a crisp chill in the air when Tommy ran from the top of the stairs his little yellow wings puffed behind him as he missed a step tumbling down. Wilbur turned his face fell watching Tommy scramble to stand ignoring the blood on his knee and hands. Wilbur wrapped a scarf around Tommy’s neck as he screamed for his dad to come back in shorts and a t-shirt. Wilbur could see his own breath as he held Tommy down from trying to fly telling him it was alright.

“Why is he leaving!” Tommy sobbed, “I told him I’d learn how to fly! I’d learn to fly to keep him here! I can do it!”

Wilbur hugged his brother closer whispering into his wheat-colored hair, “Please, Tommy it’s not your fault.”

“It’s everyone else’s,” A voice growled.

Sun beamed through the high windows of the wooden home, but Techno stood in the shadow that day. Sulking, tricking himself into thinking Wilbur couldn’t see his tears. Wilbur would never say a word about the way Techno’s mouth twitched and his shoulders shook. Being the oldest Wilbur knew Techno would carry too much on his shoulders, but he was no father figure. He was no unfeeling weapon, as much as he pretended. Their father had rescued Techno from an auction, and Techno repaid that kindness by being his shadow. Learning everything their father had to offer. A piglin with the dream to be equal to men. Wilbur couldn’t imagine what Techno thought watching their father spread his wings without him.

The day dragged on as Wilbur sat with Tommy on the couch drilling it into the young boy’s skull it wasn’t his fault their father left- he had to. Their father’s situation was delicate. He wasn’t just a crow hybrid but a godly being of sorts, though he never advertised it. Their father had taken Wilbur and Techno to his shrine when they were a little older than Tommy. People worshiped him when they were in need. He looked after those who needed protecting. He wasn’t born an immortal god but was given the right after giving so much of himself to the world that the universe had to reward him. An immortal life with the curse of mortal children with the universe herself. Now people expected him to fight in the war of L’manburg a nation that had been teetering on the edge of revolution for years. Philza would be the hammer ending it all. Wilbur shifted his white wings when Techno came in the whites of his eyes red, his cheeks puffy. Wilbur wouldn’t utter a word.

Taking on the role of a caretaker wasn’t unusual to Wilbur having done it before even when their father was home. Before Tommy was born. Growing up with a piglin brother who still had basic lessons to learn in over world customs was fun but came with challenges. Especially when Techno started learning the art of the blade. Wilbur was tasked with keeping his brother from scrapping with every kid who laid eyes on him with a sneer.

Tommy had finally fallen asleep to something on TV and Wilbur had noticed Techno slip out hours ago. Walking out onto the back porch Wilbur watched his half piglin brother whack at dummies with an axe. His blows were messy- unusual for the calm and collected fighting state his brother usually took on. With tight moves and precision.

“You want to talk about it?” Wilbur sat himself on the stairs.

“Not really,” Techno huffed.

Wilbur leaned back on his palms, “You can’t keep it in forever, better to get it out now right?” he looked up at the sky, it had gotten cloudy.

“Bet I can,” Techno landed another blow.

Wilbur sighed, “Come on.”

Techno spun around his long pink ponytail lifting from his shoulders, “What the fuck do you want me to say Wil? Philza just left us here with no warning, who knows how god damn long he’ll be gone. L’manburg’s been fighting itself for years now. Suddenly he has to do crowd control.”

“If you keep swearing like that Tommy is going to get a sailors mouth,” Wilbur smirked.

Techno rolled his eyes, “You remember what he was like after the last war he was called to don’t you? Swearing is the least of Tommy’s worries.”

How could Wilbur forget, the man who came back was not their father. He was cold, distant, quick with a fist. Techno scrapped with their father a lot after he came home, sometimes protecting Wilbur, sometimes Tommy who was too young to remember the in-house violence. Too young to know to keep away from his own dad. Wilbur never blamed Philza he had seen a travesty; he’d taken lives and there’s no coming back from that casually. To return to a family after finding blood on your hands couldn’t be easy. The thought of that happening to Technoblade haunted Wilbur, to see his brother’s eyes look empty and dazed. He hopped Philza would never let Techno join him, as much as Wilbur knew that would tear Technoblade apart.

“Maybe this time will be different,” Wilbur sighed watching the clouds roll in.

Within the first week Tommy’s golden feathers were scattered around the house. Wilbur found a few in the bathroom at first thinking nothing of it. Then more popped up in the kitchen, living room, and a whole pile on the front porch. Wilbur had always respected his brother’s privacy, but out of pure panic he burst into Tommy’s room without knocking watching as Tommy pulled a handful of feathers from his wings. Wide blue eyes filled to the brim with tears starred at Wil-pleading. Scooping Tommy into his arms Wilbur tore down the stairs yelling for Techno.

It was noon on a chilly fall day a storm was rolling in the thunder rumbling deeply as it shook the old house. Wilbur was clutching Tommy’s hands as the boy sniffled at each tug of the bandage Techno wrapped around the bald spots. Pouring oil to heal and hopefully deter Tommy from plucking anymore.

“He’s stressed out,” Wilbur sighed finally feeling like he could breathe.

“Really,” Techno said sarcastically.

Wilbur ran his hand through his brown wavy hair-it was getting long- “I’m serious what are we going to do?”

Techno shrugged, “Our best I guess?”

Wilbur was already doing his best.

After plucking his feathers and being banned from flying on Dr, Techno’s orders Wilbur made sure to never let Tommy leave his sight in fear of his depression getting worse. If the wings were the worst of it Wilbur was sure he could deal, but things could always get worse. The curse of the Crow god hung heavy on the odd family. Weeks passed with the weather oddly warmer for the middle of fall. The trio was outside regularly soaking up the sun or hiking into town casually speaking with others. Techno hated the small talk, but Wilbur insisted it was for Tommy’s sake, keep him socialized. He reminded Techno how important it was to socialize him and was met with a swift whack to the back of the head. Ignoring every bit of war talk they could. It finally felt like it was all stabilizing- like they could hold out until Philza came back.

“You know we just got some new candy in I thought you’d like to try,” A girl smiled coming out from the back of the grocery store.

“Hell yea!” Tommy pumped his fist in the air.

“You’re spoiling him Niki,” Wilbur shook his head putting his groceries on the counter.

“I got some new books too,” Niki put three books on the counter, “Free of charge of course, “She winked.”

A month ago, Wilbur had resented Niki’s kindness as if they couldn’t care if themselves without their father. He hated thinking she was right. With time he realized that wasn’t it at all. Niki was genuinely kind, enjoying the company of the brothers. She wasn’t full of sympathy, but compassion. Giving where she could, but never overly so.

“What, nothing for me?” Technoblade put on a show of pouting.

“Sorry,” Niki shrugged, “My boss still thinks weapons in a general store is a bad idea.”

Techno shook his head, “He’s missing a whole customer base.”

“Maybe I can-“ Niki was cut off as a crowd gathered around the TV in the corner of the store.

Coming from the back the store’s owner turned up the volume on the news broadcast. It was a warm fall when the footage of fires ablaze in homes that viewers were assured had been abandoned was shown to the public. People whispered and gasped, but no one saw him-except Wilbur. A shadow in the corner of the screen wings close to his body, his stance tight, sword sheathed at his side-the Crow in all of his glory. Was that his handy work? He wouldn’t. L’manburg was in flames. Something silently snapped in Wilbur that day, watching his father do nothing as a city burned to the ground. Seeing that scene alone may have started the spiral but knowing Philza watched over the pyres of family’s- Wilbur grabbed the groceries rushing out of the store.

He didn’t speak to his brothers the whole walk home. It had gotten chillier.

Winter dropped two snowstorms back-to-back, during the second Wilbur picked up smoking to keep himself warm. The clouds that escaped from his lips as he sat under a hazy sky while Tommy played in the snow were thick. He watched the smoke curl and join the sky. It started with a smoke outside int eh morning and night. His hands with nothing more to do just kept lighting until he found himself at a pack a day. There was a numb comfort as he lit a second cigarette while Tommy rolled snow into a ball. His mind felt distracted, distant floating away with the smoke. His chest felt lighter, like the weight he’d been carrying found its peace-it never lasted long enough.

“Come on Tommy,” Wilbur put out his cigarette butt in the snow, “It’s cold out here,” He stretched out his wings, “Techno has a nice fire going inside.”

Rolling his eyes Tommy groaned, “Fiiiine,” he pouted his golden wings puffed behind him.

He’d healed perfectly and Wilbur had taken Tommy out for flying lessons a few times over the fall, but winter was hard for flying. The weather changed fast and the cold hurt inexperienced wings. Wilbur had been so happy there was no permanent damage he cried to himself in his room, not unusual, but this was different. He was so happy.

“Wilbur,” Tommy rolled on the floor by the fire, “Can you make hot chocolate?”

“Sure thing,” Wilbur smiled heading into the kitchen.

Techno stomped in trying to get the snow off his boots. Wood stacked under his arm.

“Well, we won’t freeze to death.” Wilbur joked pulling out a small pot.

“You’re welcome,” Technoblade stuck his tongue out.

A knock on the door stopped Wilbur’s quip dead in his throat. A knock at the door. Their door in the middle of nowhere. They weren’t expecting anyone. Would he have knocked after all this time? Wilbur shared a glance with Technoblade who was holding his breath.

The sound of the door creaking open sent Wilbur to the front entrance.

“Tommy, dude you can’t just open the door for anyone,” Wilbur scolded him.

“Oh, come on Wilbur,” Tommy rolled his eyes.

Standing in the doorway was a familiar face in a light blue hoodie. The man would have almost disappeared amongst the snowy landscape if not for his tan complexation.

“Hey Skeppy, what brings you out here?” Wilbur asked the ice mage.

“Mail believe it or not,” Skeppy held out a disheveled letter, “Niki said you guys don’t go to the store during bad weather and asked me to deliver it.”

“Thanks,” Wilbur nodded, “Would you like to come in and warm up?”

Skeppy shook his head, “This weather is my natural element I am as comfortable as can be,” He assured him, “Plus Bad is expecting me back.”

Wilbur chuckled, “Have fun in the nether, don’t melt.”

“Ha-ha,” Skeppy rolled his eyes waving goodbye.

Closing the door Wilbur looked at the letter in his shaking hands. It was tattered and must have had a long journey to his cold fingers. Walking back into the kitchen where Tommy and techno stood Wil looked between his brothers unsure what to say. Opening his mouth, he wished he had a cigarette to give him an excuse to stay silent. There was no other choice as he slowly slipped a finger unto the fold of the yellowed envelope ripping it open. Pulling out the letter Wilbur gasped.

“Who is it from,” An urgency in techno’s voice.

“Dad,” Wilbur whispered his dark eyes scanned the letter again, “He says he’s coming home soon.”

“Let me see,” Techno ripped the letter from Wilbur’s grasp, “Holy fuck,” he breathed out.

“Dads coming home!’ Tommy threw his hands up in the air running around the house.

Spirits were high as the sun shone over glittering snow.']

The letter hadn’t stated when their father would be back, just soon. The days rolled like molasse with everyone especially Tommy, checking the windows to catch a glimpse of their father landing. The days and nights were all becoming bitterly cold, and the thought of delayed travel started to creep into Wilbur’s mind. To clear it when cigarettes weren’t enough, he snuck out at the dead of night through his window. The air was brisk, it shook him to his bones. Extending his wings with a powerful downward thrust Wilbur took to the starry skies. The wind hurt his wings-burned them with frost, but Wilbur had never felt so alive as his lungs froze inside. He was reminded of living as he soared against the inky night. He remembered his first winter flight with Philza. He fell towards the ground unable to deal with the brutal temperatures. His father had been there to catch him- support him- swearing to Wil he’d only have to fly in the winter if he were every in trouble. He wondered if he was in trouble now.

Technoblade was off, it had snowed again in the middle of the winter season. Wilbur would catch Techno staring out the window at nothing for far too long. Putting his hand on Techno’s shoulder would jolt him back to reality. His brother’s long pink hair that was usually tied so neatly in buns, or ponytails was in a knotted braid that hadn’t been maintained in days. He looked pale. Wilbur was worried about illness.

“Hey Techno,” Wilbur stood form the floor, “You mind playing this round with Tommy? My knees are kind of sore.”

Techno shrugged sitting across from Tommy who shuffled a deck of cards.

Wilbur at on the sofa behind Techno taking in the site of his older brother. Techno had purple marks under his eyes, they looked slightly puffy as well. He missed his turn and Tommy had to keep pulling techno from his fog. Slowly Wilbur reached out picking up the long braid and pulled the hair tie free. He brushed through his brothers matted hair surprised Techno was being a willing participant.

“I’ve always been jealous you had the patience for all of this hair,” Wilbur started braiding noting it was messier than anything techno had done.

“I’m going to grow my hair as long as techno,” Tommy proudly declared, “My braid will be ten times better.”

“You know I bet Techno could braid your hair now,” Wilbur suggested getting no response from his distant brother, “Techno,” Wilbur prompted.

“Oh-yea,” Techno shook his head, “Tommy come here.”

With quick fingers Techno braided Tommy’s short blonde hair before moving to Wilbur’s brown wavy mess. They were bonded the brothers of misfortune. Techno was getting worse, forgetting things, spacing out for hours, losing blocks of time. Wilbur kept asking him if he was okay but, Techno kept deflecting. Wilbur knew it was better not to push when it came to his brother. Techno would sort it out on his own, maybe it was a weird Piglin thing. Tommy stated asking again when their father was returning home as the snow melted and spring was on the way. Wilbur had no answer and it added onto the pile of anger he had been harboring. Seeing news cast after news cast about the war. How L’manburg was falling, how they didn’t just end it. He kept catching glimpses of their father at horrible sights, but nobody else seemed to catch him. Wilbur had given up months ago on the man he knew.

Cutting vegetables for dinner Techno put his knife on the counter leaning forward heavily panting.

“Hey you,” Wilbur started before Techno slumped to the ground.

“Techno!” Wilbur fell to his knees to comfort his brother only to be slapped away.

“Don’t touch me,” Techno growled.

“You need to rest something’s not-“

Slapping Wilbur’s hovering hand away Techno’s piercing green eyes shot through Wilbur, “I said fuck off, don’t touch me,” he growled. Standing on shaky legs Techno stumbled away and up the stairs leaving Wilbur to worry about his piglin brother. Techno locked himself away for three days, Wilbur left meals outside his door.

“Tommy!” A voice roared from down the hall, “I told you a hundred times to stay out!”

A scream sent Wilbur charging up the stairs, “What happened,” his voice died in his throat.

Cowering in the corner was Tommy his arms in front of his face to protect himself while Techno brandished a blade in front of him. Charging into the room Wilbur pushed Techno and his brother swung the weapon at him instead. His eyes red and angry his features more piglin than man.

“He’s just a kid what the hell is your problem?” Wilbur yelled.

“I’ve told him a hundred times to not touch my weapons and he was in here playing with my crossbow,” Techno growled.

“Is it broken? What is your deal, you don’t threaten him!”

“He doesn’t even deserve to be our brother, Philza raised us to be strong, and Tommy’s always been pathetic,” Techno spat.

“You’re a monster!” Tommy stood stomping his foot before taking off.

Slowly Techno lowered his weapon blinking frantically as his red eyes faded to the familiar green.

“Wil,” Techno swayed before collapsing to the floor.

Wilbur wasn’t sure which mess to pick up first. Deciding his brother on the floor would be priority. Getting leverage under his arms Wilbur hoisted Techno onto his bed glad the man passed out in his own room. Putting his hand on Techno’s forehead he felt the sheen of sweat on his hot skin. Biting his lip Wilbur took off to tend to Tommy. As he ran down the stairs, he pictured a flurry of gold feathers littering the halls. Of irreversible damage. Wilbur felt like his lungs were collapsing in on him as he checked every room to no avail. There was a chill in the air from an open window in the kitchen, Tommy had left. Wilbur felt himself gag when he realized. Tommy had taken off into the winter sky on the verge of darkness alone. Fuck and Wil knew he hadn’t taken time to put on any warmer clothes besides his thin long sleeve shirt. He had to go out and find him quickly throwing on his brown trench coat, scarf, and knit hat before running out and taking off to the sky.

“Tommy!’ Wilbur screamed until his voice was hoarse scanning the sky and land.

It had been two hours since he started his search, and his heart was pounding in his ears from a mixture of cold and panic. The sun had set behind the mountains leaving only a faint blue glow to the sky Wilbur knew would fade in time. Then Tommy would be out there alone overnight with no way for Wilbur to spot him. Tommy wouldn’t make it.

“Tommy!” Wilbur screamed.

“Wil,” A small broken voice made its way over the rushing wind.

Through tear frozen eyes Wilbur spotted him a small dark red speck in the white winter night. Immediately landing hard enough to stumble like he did when he was a child Wilbur scrambled to the lump on the ground. He couldn’t tell who was shaking more, himself or Tommy. In the darkness it was impossible to get a read on what was wrong, but the young boys breathing was shallow, and Wil begged for him to tell him what was wrong as he wrapped Tommy in his coat. A feeble effort to warm him. Holding his brother tight Wilbur prayed something he’d never been a fan of even being the child of a man akin to a deity. He prayed to his father to guide them safely through the night.

“Wilbur,” Tommy croaked, “I miss dad.”

“Me too,” Wilbur whispered holding his brother closer.

Miracles could bless those in dire need as the wind died down and the sounds of horse hooves crunching on the snow echoed through the trees. Wilbur’s ears perked at the sound of his name.

“We’re here!” Wilbur shouted with every breath he had left in his shivering body.

A horse sent by a prayer appeared before them with a familiar pink haired figure riding on top. He pulled off his red cape as he dismounted wrapping it around the shaking shoulders of the man who was trying so hard to have all the answers and hold it together.

“Let me see him,” Techno’s voice a faraway whisper with hands outstretched.

Wilbur hesitated knowing those hands caused destruction and started the argument that lead down this path. However, he was weak using all of his stamina while flying and holding Tommy tightly to his chest trying desperately to protect him from the elements. Slowly Wilbur handed over the shivering boy. Techno looked over Tommy nodding to himself Wilbur knew he was using his superior night vision to check Tommy over.

Standing on unstable legs Wilbur hoisted himself on the horse holding the red cloak around himself tightly apologizing in his own mind to his brother quietly endured the bite of the frost. Letting his dark eyes slowly close Wilbur continued his prayers to his father-pleads to come home.

Waking slowly with a pounding headache Wilbur propped himself on his elbows. He was in his bed int eh same clothes he’d worn last night. Looking down he saw red splotches on his shirt feeling his skin crawl. He wished it was his. Rolling out of bed he hissed at the pain in his knees, that landing had done more damage than he thought. Leaning against the wall for support he limped his way out into the hallway where a savory aroma hit his nose. Soup- a familiar soup- a dish his father had made a hundred times when one of them had been injured or sick. The stairs creaked causing Wilbur to hold his breath.

“Oh, good you’re up.”

Wilbur’s face fell, “Your hair.”

Techno stood in the hallway with a tray carrying two bowls of soup. His long hair had been hacked away into a short messy style. His long braid discarded.

“I’m leaving Wil,” Tehcno’s voice was cold, “I need to find Philza.”

Wilbur shook his head feel his braid, “We don’t need him we’re doing fine without-“

“I need him!” Techno shouted, “You don’t get it! I’m a danger to you two without Philza here! He keeps the voices away; they demand blood, and it doesn’t matter whose. Wilbur if I did anything permeant to you or god- fucking Tommy almost died last night!”

“That wasn’t your fault.”

“Don’t try to spare me, you sugar coat everything thinking it’ll all work out, but it’s not working Wil! So, I’m going to drag dad back here by the scruff of his wings.”

A creak of the floorboards.

“A branch went through Tommy’s leg, its broken. I set it the best I could.”

“Techno please, we can beat this without him.” Wilbur felt his throat tighten.

“I’ll be back before summer.” Techno set the tray on a small table in the hall.

Without another word Techno walked down the stairs with Wilbur at his heels begging the man not to leave. Not for him but for Tommy, he would beat himself up, he wouldn’t survive if Techno just up and left. He’s a child who doesn’t deserve anymore disappointment. Nothing could deter the determined look of the piglin as he secured a travel bag to his horse and double checked the saddle. With a stern glance Techno left his axe shinning in the sun on his back.

Wilbur went inside a numbness overcame him as he pulled his heavy legs up the stairs grabbed a bowl of soup went into Tommy’s room. The boy laid eyes closed leg elevated the wrapped. Bloody scraps of cloth laid all around the room. Setting the bowl on the nightstand Wilbur felt his world crush him falling to his knees and sobbing his chest heaving. He apologized over and over to no one who could hear him. He apologized for being weak, unable to protect anyone, for letting things slip through his fingers. When Wilbur felt his heart snap months ago watching the fires he ignored it, took up smoking, and retreating into himself hiding what he thought he knew of his father from his brothers. If L’manburg was supposed to fall Wilbur wanted to push-someone had to push. It was the only way to bring everything back.

It was the first day of spring when Tommy finally awoke disoriented and Wilbur cried again holding his brother close to his chest. A warm wind rustled the grass that was returning when Wilbur had to come clean about Technoblades absence. He watched Tommy’s curious blue eyes become cold and steely. He wasn’t inconsolable, but as the earth thawed Tommy became icy. Going into town wasn’t as fun without Tommy chatting to everyone instead, he stood by Wilbur avoiding eye contact. Wilbur made a point to take Tommy out more hoping he would just spring back even on his crutches. After a while Tommy started saying he was too tired to hobble to town on his busted leg.

“That leg will heal in time Tommy, before you know it, you’ll be bouncing around again,” Wilbur encouraged.

Tommy pouted silently.

“I’m at my wits end Niki,” Wilbur leaned on the counter, “I can’t bring him back from this.”

The sweltering summer weather was on the way Wilbur had gone to buy ice cream realizing it was just another feeble attempt at fixing something impossible. “He’s been through a lot; the cast just came off didn’t it?” Niki pointed out, “All spring he’s been trapped, maybe take him for a flight! He’s always so happy to come back from those and tell me what he saw,” She giggled.

Wilbur shot up, “You’re a genius!”

A crash stopped Wilbur and unknowingly changed the ever-evolving family of unfortunate crows. A boy stood there wide brown eyes shooting between the knocked over display and Niki and Wilbur. His breathing was heavy.

“Sorry,” he stuttered out.

“It’s okay Tubbo,” Niki quickly assured him, “Accidents happen.”

Wilbur crouched down next to the boy spotting two stubby ram horns poking through his thick brown hair, his bangs were practically covering his eyes. He had long floppy ears and black nails. A hybrid.

“I haven’t seen you around before,” Wilbur observed.

Tubbo said nothing staring back with big doe eyes.

“You just move in mate?”

Tubbo shrugged.

Niki gave a sad smile to Wilbur, “His situation is a lot like yours, except it’s just him.”

Wilbur’s body jerked like electricity had shot up his spine. A situation like his huh, an absent father fending for himself. All alone though he was just a kid couldn’t be older than Tommy, that was cruelty. Without hesitation Wilbur offered the kid a place to say welcoming Tubbo into the misfit pack. How he wished he’d met that kid sooner. At first Tommy was apprehensive until Tubbo burned himself on the stove. He wouldn’t let Wilbur go anywhere near him to help cowering like an animal in the corner. When Tommy approached though slowly Tubbo offered his hand. From that day forward the boys were inseparable as Tommy showed Tubbo things the ram boy had never seen and swore to protect him. Wilbur smoked a cigarette on the porch watching the boys climb trees in the backyard. Sometimes when he blinked, he saw himself and Techno climbing those trees. When did Techno go from the scared unsure halfling to a warrior? All Wilbur did was blink.

Running an errand in town the boys were chasing each other as usual when Tommy’s golden wings sprung out, somehow Tubbo had yet to see them.

“Wow!” Tubbo beamed, “Can you fly with those?”

Tommy shrugged, “Kind of.”

“Tommy,” Wilbur raised a brow, “You’re a splendid flyer.”

Tommy gave his wings a flap shrugging again.

It hit Wilbur; Tommy hadn’t flown since that night in the snow. Hadn’t even attempted all summer to stretch his wings.

“Why don’t you guys buy some candy form Niki,” Wilbur handed the two boys money watching them run off.

Wilbur went to a different store to buy his cigarettes. It smelled of cheap smoke and alcohol lined the shelves. It also played the news Niki had stopped showing because she thought it was bad for Tommy to see. Wilbur didn’t totally disagree, but he couldn’t play it at home either. The store was dim and none of the faces looked friendly, besides the slick man who worked at the counter. Tall with a close buzzcut, he wore glasses with two different colored lenses. Wilbur had spoken to Jackmanifold a few times, never in depth, but he knew they shared the same view of L’manburg-it had to end. The conversation had started that summer if you could call it innocently. Now it was becoming real tangible plans with a syndicate closer to the city.

“They’re starting to move the dynamite,” Jackmanifold slid a pack of cigarettes across the counter, “It’s a slow process, but when it’s done the war will end.”

Wilbur scowled; it was for the best. It was a complicated plan and included p6eople sneaking around to plant large undetectable stacks of dynamite around the city. The hardest part would be building the kill switch mechanism from what he understood. To set off he explosives untraceable.

Lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag Wilbur walked towards the exit, “Keep me updated Jack.”

“You got it boss,” Jackmanifold saluted.

Exiting the store Wilbur’s shoulders sagged.

“Wilbur!”

Two boys ran towards Wilbur showing off their spoils from the general store smiles bright and unafraid, unaware of the world crumbling around them. Wilbur returned their bright smiles he was doing this for them.

Summer was hot and the only cooling relief came in the form of a small inflatable pool Wilbur pulled from the basement. The boys got a kick out of splashing each other and Tommy had gotten more comfortable letting his golden feathers flap around like he used to. Wilbur had taken up journaling writing down every insignificant detail of days that dragged on through noon until lunch when suddenly the cool nights went much too fast. He wrote down the day he took the duo fishing, how Tommy never wanted to go again seeing fish struggling was too much for the young boy. How Tubbo tried to show Tommy it wasn’t that bad and trying to eat a raw fish. He wrote about taking Tommy back to the sky the poor boy was practically shaking at the thought.

“Tommy avians weren’t meant to spend so much time tethered to the ground,” Wilbur had said one day.

Tommy shook his head, “Wilbur I can’t last time it was.” He stuttered.

“Last time it was cold and dark,” Wilber gripped Tommy’s shoulder reassuringly, “Today’s perfect.”

Tommy shook his head, “Look Wilbur.”

“I’d like to see it,” Tubbo chirped, “I’ve never seen you fly! Could you take me?”

Tommy looked at Wilbur.

Wilbur nodded, “When he’s older he can.”

The thought of taking Tubbo into the sky was all it took for Tommy to follow Wilbur back into the open air. It really was a perfect day; Wilbur wrote in his journal about how there was no clouds in sight that day. He wrote about Tubbo wanting to get into music after seeing a traveling band in town. Wilbur spent the end of the summer teaching the boys guitar. Tommy snuck into Technoblades old armory in the shed and started to take blades seriously. Wilbur was hesitant but figured Tommy should know how to defend himself. Sending him to learn with Jackmanifold who was sworn from talking about L’manburg. Wilbur wrote about watching the boys grow for two years they turned into brave young men, and for a moment he was proud. They’d had ups and downs but the young men who stood in front of him now were admirable. Wilbur wrote letters his father would never see, and apologies Technoblade deserved.

Fall was right around the corner and Wilbur had given his trench coat to Tommy last winter. He was in town looking for warm clothes for himself as well as Tubbo. The boys were milling about the isles on their own while Wilbur hummed to himself going over his coat choices. When the crowd around the TV caught his eye Wilbur already knew it would be L’manburg coverage. Noticing Tommy and Tubbo at the back of the store Wilbur slowly made his way through the crowd. His heart shattered and his breathing became ragged at the sight of the news coverage, hey were speaking of a beast of pure rage that had knocked down a whole wall in a single blow. Wilbur knew who they meant deep down in his aching bones he knew-but it couldn’t be he went there to bring their father back not join in the bloodshed. They must have been talking about Technoblade as they mentioned his blood red cape and crown on his head- a prince of destruction.

Wilbur ran, he left the boys as he sprinted down the street to the sketchy store on the corner where he bought the cigarettes that started to make him cough. “You have to blow it!” Wilbur slammed his fists on the counter.

“Wil, we can’t,” Jackmanifold tried to calm him, “There’s only a fail-safe button if you were to press that you’d die.”

Wilbur laughed, “It’s almost been three years Jack! What is taking so long!”

Jackmanifold raised his unusually even tone, “It’s not exactly easy sneaking tons of explosives into a maintain and rigging them outside of a war zone!”

“Tell me where,” Wilbur ran his fingers through his hair.

“Mate,” Jackmanifold looked pale.

“Tell me Jack or I swear I’ll burn this place to the ground!” Wilbur grabbed the front of Jack’s shirt his wings spreading far enough to break bottles as they fell off shelves. Jackmanifold spilled the beans and Wilbur spiraled that night packing all of his belongings hastily into a suitcase. Hurrying down the stairs in the dark only to be stopped by a man at the door with blonde hair and arms crossed.

“Where you going Wil?” Tommy asked.

“Tommy, I have to,” Wilbur trailed off.

“Have to what huh?”

Wilbur winced, when was the last time Tommy had raised his voice in true anger.

“Fucking leave? Like Techno? Like dad?” Tommy raised an eyebrow, “Want to leave me here alone.”

“You’re not alone,” Wilbur was trembling, “You have Tubbo.”

“You’re my brother! You’re all I have left of my family Wilbur!” Tommy slammed his fist into the door, “Tell me why you’re leaving! Tell me why Technoblade really left! Tell me if you knew dad was leaving and why nobody gave me any goddamn warning! Why am I the last one to know anything in this family? I. am. A. part. Of. This. Wilbur! Stop treating me like I’ll break if you talk about them! It’s been three years and I haven’t heard you mention them once, just slowly break!”

“What’s going on?”

Wilbur turned he felt lightheaded as he saw Tubbo those same wide brown eyes shining in worry like the first day he saw him.

Tommy was laughing, “Welcome to this shitty family Tubbo! We’re fighting because your brother thinks your nothing!”

Wilbur felt his stomach twist at Tommy’s laugh-he was becoming more like Wilbur- Tommy was better than that. Wilbur thought he had been sly all these years, but Tommy was wise and knew he was falling apart.

“That’s not true Tommy,” Wilbur reached into his pocket pulling out a leather-bound journal holding it out to his brother, “If you don’t believe me then read this, but not yet. I’m going to L’manburg, and you might as well come with me. I hear there’s a safe zone outside of the city. You can read that and all of the books in the desk in my room after this trip. Okay?”

Tommy snatched the book looking at it, “Why would you go there,” he scowled.

“Techno went to get Philza back, but something went wrong. Now I’m going to end this story and get them both home.”

“Fine,” Tommy nodded, “Let’s pack our bags Tubbo.”

Renting a cart all Wilbur could think about was the outburst Tommy had, years of resentment had built inside of him Wilbur had never seen coming. Years of pain and confusion as his family fell apart around him. He was feeding off of Wilburs poor energy it seemed as well. Tommy was better than Wilbur-he had a bright future ahead of him. When they stopped for the night on the first day of their trip Wilbur snuck the leather journal from out of Tommy’s backpack. He wrote an apology letter, for the past present and future. He deserved at least that much.

When they got to the encampment Wilbur felt electricity spike through his body. He jumped from the cart running past confused by standers before his fist collided with a familiar face.

“I deserved that,” A gruff voice spoke.

“You deserve more than that,” Wilbur growled his fist still at the ready.

A tall figure with a muscular build stood before him, an axe at his hip, pink hair growing out to his shoulders. A blood red cape fluttered around his ankles and it looked like he’d broken a tusk.

“You’re right,” Techno nodded.

“Technoblade!” Tommy shouted running through the path Wilbur had carved out of the crowd.

Colliding with the tall man there was very little give as Tommy threw his arms around his chest. Techno looked at Wilbur in a pause his arms in the air palms out. Wilbur sighed giving a nod.

Technoblades face was soft as he smiled bending down to hug Tommy, “You’ve gotten so big.”

Wilbur wondered what it was like for Techno, the last time he saw Tommy he was critically injured, a busted leg, hypothermia now he had a full wingspan. Tubbo slowly came to stand next to Wilbur silently watching Tommy hug another hybrid.

“Who’s that?” Techno asked spotting the ram boy.

“My mate Tubbo,” Tommy moved to the boy slinging an arm around his shoulders, “basically part of the family.”

Tubbo gave a small wave.

“He basically saved Tommy after you left,” Wilbur narrowed his eyes.

“Wilbur,” Techno started.

Wilbur walked away without another word into the crowd back to the cart. He pulled it out of the commotion of the tents and stalls to an open part of field. He tied it to a tree and found a large boulder to sit on watching the crowd mill about. Looking at the sky he saw it, the mountain he would be climbing that night. After the sun went down Tommy would get the life he deserved.

As the time wound down Wilbur made sure to spend the day with his brothers even softening up around Technoblade. They ate good food and met better people caught up in a tragedy Tommy slowly realized he didn’t know much about asking Techno question after question to Wilbur’s dismay.

“How sheltered did you keep him?” Techno half joked.

“I just wanted him to be happy,” Wilbur looked at his reflection in his beer, night had fallen he had to leave, “If something happened to me,” he swallowed thickly, “Would you look after both of them?”

“Of course, I would but nothing is going to happen to you out here, it’s safe,” Techno assured him.

“Come home Techno,” Wilbur asked. His answer would change everything. He was the last string holding him together.

“I can’t until this is done,” Techno shoot his head a new braid done by Tommy swished around, “These people need me to keep them safe right now.”

It snapped.

“Right,” Wilbur nodded pulling his knit cap over his ears, “Have you seen Philza out here?”

“A few times, he was trying to be positive, but,” Techno took a drink, “He’s losing himself Wil, it’s bad. If this doesn’t end soon, he won’t be Philza much longer. I’ll get word out you’re here though; he’d rush to see you.”

The thought made Wilbur smirk, he had so much time to rush to see him, it was too late now.

Wilbur squeezed Techno’s shoulder as he said he was going to bed. He hugged Tubbo and hugged Tommy for far too long. He heart was aching; he thought this operation would be easy and as he hugged his youngest brother who had been through the ringer, he second guessed himself. He had to remind himself this was bigger than Tommy, this would stop a whole war. He had come this far-it was for more than just himself.

Lighting a cigarette on his torch Wilbur started to climb the mountain, it was steep, and rocks slid and tumbled with every step he took. How people could be stealthily on this trail he’d never know. He was sure the whole city could hear him scheming. He had his white wings out to help him balance and for comfort-if he fell, he would catch himself. He cursed his white feathers if they were black like his fathers he could have flown up.

Getting to the crest of the mountain the mouth of a cave greeted him. He entered with no hesitation his heart pounding in his chest as he noticed the writing on the walls. The anthem of L’manburg. In the center of the writing was a button-the button that would end it all.

“I knew I’d catch one of you eventually if I waited long enough.”

The voice behind Wilbur turned his veins to ice.

“Turn around slowly,” They demanded, “And come with me. I have a few questions.”

Slowly Wilbur turned to a shocked face holding a shaky sword.

“Wil,” Philza whispered into the dark, “What are you doing?”

“Philza,” Wilbur’s voice cracked.

“Why are you here?” Philza dropped his sword his long blonde hair braided to the side.

Wilbur wondered if Techno had done it. He smiled feeling his mouth wobble, “I want to bring you home.”

“Wilbur I promise to come home as soon as-“

“I’m ending this tonight!” Wilbur shouted, “It’s been three years Philza! Do you know what any of went through? Did Techno tell you how he ran away when Tommy almost died?”

“What?” Philza’s green eyes were wide, ‘I didn’t-“

“What do you still know about us!” Wilbur backed towards the wall, “We’ve grown and changed, and you haven’t been there! I can’t believe you even recognized me!”

“Of course, I recognize you! You’re my son!” Philza shouted.

Wilbur smirked, “I used to proudly tell people I was the mortal son of the crow. Now I say I have a dad somewhere. Except I’ve known exactly where you were all this time. I saw you on TV when no one else seemed to be able to! Causing atrocities. You even brainwashed Technoblade into it because he’d follow you anywhere.”

“Buddy I’ve been,” Philza hesitated.

“So, help me if you say doing your job, I’ll slit my own throat,” Wilbur spat.

Philza stood straighter, “I’ve been helping people, I’ve been a relief effort I’ve only raised my sword to defend.”

Wilbur hung his head, “I wish I believed you,” He looked at Philza with blurry vision tears welling up, “Do better for Tommy.”

Wilbur hit the button.

“NO!” Philza screamed rushing forward as the earth shook and rumbled.

Wilbur closed his eyes waiting for the crushing pain he deserved of mountain debris. Nothing came as the sounds of explosions rang through the night and sparks brighter than the stars lit up the night before the fires. Opening his eyes, he saw black wings extended over him protecting him from harm. Heavy breathing was the only sound as Wilbur looked into his father’s soft eyes and saw fear, panic, and anything but disappointment. Wilbur felt tears fall down his cheeks, but they weren’t his own. Looking to where the small mouth of the cave used to be he saw a gaping hole with crowds of people gathering to see the monster dwelling inside.

Tommy, Techno, and Tubbo stood out, their mouths a gape as they saw Wilbur pinned by their father in a tragic twist of fate. Slowly Philza stood turning to see the same crowd.

“You brought them here,” Philza looked panicked.

Wilbur clutched his own chest, “Philza you have to kill me.”

“What?” Philza whipped back around.

Wilbur stood kicking Philza sword towards him, “You have to kill me. They’ll arrest me.”

“Wil,” Philza shook his head, “We’ll work this out, I’ll talk with them.”

“Your reputation will be ruined.”

“I don’t care about me reputation! I won’t have to keep doing this if I lose it!” Philza stepped closer his hands out like he wanted to comfort Wilbur, but they were shaking.

“Philza they’ll torture me, you know they will.” Wilbur spoke like a dead man.

“I won’t do it in front of them!” Philza screamed, “You’re my son! I won’t kill you in front of your brothers! My children!”

“They’re so much stronger then you know now,” Wilbur picked up the sword from the ground slowly walking towards Philza. He put the hilt in Philzas open palms closing his fingers into fists holding his own clammy hands around Philzas warm ones, “Dad.”

Wilbur whispered his final word as Philza stepped forward and Wilbur hugged his father for the first time in a very long time. He cried silently while his father sobbed onto his shoulder his black wings encircling them as if to make it more private, to spare his brothers from knowing. As Wilbur succumbed to the pain he smiled, they knew, he bet Techno knew all along he came to L’manburg to die. It hurt more then he thought it would, physically or emotionally he couldn’t tell though. The pain in his abdomen was fire, but hearing Philza wail, and Tommy’s voice ringing in his ear Wilbur closed his eyes feeling cold, and warm against his father and his feathers.

“Wilbur, my strongest son,” Philza whispered.

They were the last words Wilbur heard. ------- Traveling in silence a day later Tommy was flipping through the journal Wilbur had given him, it was all of Wilbur’s personal thoughts. Tommy felt like a fool saying Wil hadn’t cared about him. He’d documented everything, several times he talked about how brave, and strong Tommy had gotten two summers ago. Their first winter flight together- how impressed Wilbur was. Tommy was a fool, he wrapped Wilbur’s old coat tighter around his shoulders trying not to cry where everyone could hear. If this was just one journal he wondered how many were in Wilbur’s desk, what they all said. At the end of this one Wilbur mentioned getting the family back together. He looked up at Philza driving the cart- he held Tommy so tight last night. It reminded him of the forest when he broke his leg. Idly flipping through Tommy noticed writing he had missed on the front cover earlier.

Dear Tommy,

You were served a rotten hand in this life, with a father who disappeared and brothers who were broken. Techno and I tried our best I promise you that, but we weren’t equipped to bring you up still being kids ourselves. We were scared- I was scared- of letting you down. I’ve written a journal full of apologies to Tehcnoblade, and I was a fool to think after Tubbo showed up you weren’t owed anything. You are owed a dozen apologies from three people, but I hope I am sufficient. If you’re reading this at all there’s a good chance I didn’t come home okay, or I didn’t come home at all, and I’m sorrier than you could ever know. This life wasn’t for me Tommy, I am in pain and I don’t know how else to stop it. You dulled this pain for so long I almost forgot I was suffering. I never realized how it was affecting you, and you were right, you’ve bene in the dark for a long time, because no one wanted ot hurt you- instead we did the opposite. Don’t be mad at Philza – our father never wanted to be a figure head, he wanted to be a man who made his family proud, and you should be proud of him. He would do anything for us, he just hasn’t had a lot of choices when it’s come to fate. If he could leave it behind, I know he would just to spend every day listening to you catch him up on what he missed. Be gentle with Technoblade, under his tough exterior out brother is soft and scared of what you think of him. When he left it was with good intentions to bring our father back. He gets caught up in his own head and becomes a danger to himself more than others. If you see him start to clam up don’t let him- bother him every day. He’ll pretend to be annoyed, but he wants to talk about it, he wants to feel something. Protect Tubbo when this is all over. Our family will be fractured and hurt, Tubbo has only ever had a broken family, he’ll hurt watching the pain work its way through your hearts differently. He’ll fell like an outsider with no right to mourn, but I believe Tubbo became just as much of a brother to me. I know he saved you from yourself, you might need to save him in return. Just remember not to be too strong, let yourself feel. We as a family hid our emotions for too long. Lastly, I have a large request I may not even know comes true, but don’t be mad at me. If I could have, I would have done this differently, but there was no more time. I needed to be free, you needed to be free. Tommy you’ve grown into a brilliant, gentle, curious soul who puts others before himself. Who is afraid to put himself first, listen to yourself more, trust yourself more. You are important and deserve to take care of you. I would have loved to see you continue to grow as you come into your own, but it wasn’t meant to be. Remember avians weren’t meant to be on the ground too long. Find me amongst the clouds on your next trip to the sky. Your brother forever, Wilbur.

Tommy hiccupped grabbing the ends of Wilbur’s jacket tight as he dropped the book, curled into a ball and sobbed, not for himself, but his brother whose hurt he never got to understand.

#dsmp #dsmp fanfic #dsmp fic #writing #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #major character death #dream smp #c!techno #c!wilbur #c!philza

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King Falls AM Episode Twenty: Referencing Aladdin Don’t Make It Right

King Falls AM Transcript

Episode 20: Referencing Aladdin Don’t Make It Right

Run time: 22:17

First Aired: Feb 15, 2016

Summary: Sammy & Ben get a quick update on the little ones off Route 72 and learn live on-air that not everyone had a great evening on the night of the Valentine’s Day Dance.

(For a list of characters and references from this episode see the end of this post)

[King Falls AM theme plays]

Troy: Hey folks, if you or anyone you know has any information on these hybrid werewolf slash human baby thingamagigs-

Sammy Stevens: Is that a technical term, Troy?

Ben Arnold: Can you please let Troy finish, Sammy, this is important!

Troy: Heh, thanks, little buddy.

Ben: Go on, Troy.

Troy: Well if you see those little beasts or have information on them you just got to let us know. Don’t harbor them, they could have the rabies and or the colic. And please don’t try to adopt while it’s in its human form, cause that ain’t gonna end up well. Just use your common sense and be safe.

Sammy: Thanks for calling in officially with police business and alerting the public to the issue.

Ben: Yeah, nice hearing from you on the job, Troy.

Troy: Whilst I’m still on official police biz, I’d like to make one more little statement if I could, fellas.

Ben: Dude, of course! The floor is yours!

Troy: Well the sheriff is a real foul mood regarding these hybrid wolf babies and what have you just running amok, and he wants to make it completely, perfectly, crystal clear that if anyone should have these animals or any other illegal animals in the city limits of King Falls, they will be apprehended and exterminated on site with extreme force of malice. King Falls is a zero tolerance town for any illegal animals of any kind, up to and including wolf-human hybrids.

Ben: So… uh (clears throat) you’re saying that anyone listening that may have access to a cute and cuddly but illegal animal should do… what?

Troy: Now I’m not talking to no one in particular, I mean this isn’t a warning, it’s just a fact. Sheriff Gunderson is making it a personal project to bring down any and all animals that shouldn’t be in town.

Sammy: But cats are fine, is that right, Troy?

Troy: No doubt about that. Ain’t nobody gonna get any cats while I’m patrolling the streets, friends.

Sammy: There you have it, folks. If you or anyone you know has any information on the werewolf puppies last heard from around Route 72 or any other illegal animals not allowed in the city, please contact the sheriff’s department at once.

Ben: (sounding strained) Thanks for the info, Troy.

Troy: All you listeners, you stay safe out there, alright?

Sammy: Thanks, Troy. We’ll talk to you soon, sir.

Troy: Roger that, Sammy.

[The sound of a phone hanging up]

Ben: (clearing throat) Well… that’s good information there, huh?

Sammy: Are you okay, Ben?

Ben: Yeah! You know, I’m just… I’m not a fan of the idea that Gunderson is sending out gangs of thugs to dispatch animals, man! Aren’t there real issues for law enforcement in this town? Last week, I saw old lady Turner jaywalking in front of the grocery store.

Sammy: So you’d rather Gunderson take down the organized jaywalking underbelly of King Falls?

Ben: No, I actually helped her cross the street, but the point is that this werewolf issue seems like an animal control issue! Let Ralf Harkins take care of this! Why are the police even involved, man?

Sammy: Your guess is as good as mine. Moving forward-

Ben: Yeah! Yeah, uh, moving forward we’ve got about thirty minutes of open calls lined up before acclaimed ebook author Kirk Sycamore- don’t judge this, Sammy- will be joining us to talk about his new book Dead Tom Turkey: The Perils of Uncooked Poultry.

Sammy: I’m sorry, what now?

Ben: I mean… it’s a thing. Undercooked anything can’t be good, right?

Sammy: I would assume, but seemingly that one sentence just covered everything you need to know. Cook it longer.

Ben: Then it might get dry. I don’t know man! Don’t look at me like that! Merv emailed and asked to book this guy. His book topped Beauregard’s King of King Falls, it’s got to be worth something, right?

Sammy: The perils of uncooked poultry.

Ben: In thirty minutes.

Sammy: I don’t know if I can hold this excitement in for thirty minutes, Ben. You must be bursting at the seams! Surely you’ve waited your entire journalistic career to talk about under-broiled birds.

Ben: Uh, if it makes this any better, apparently this is a novel, not an instructional guide.

Sammy: (outraged) That actually makes it worse! This is a fictional piece of work?!

Ben: Merv emailed this to us, Sammy.

Sammy: Listeners, please immediately stop what you’ve got going on and mark this down: I’m going to do my damndest to get you the info on Merv’s book of the month club. I’m on your side and I am fighting for you.

Ben: Merv, if you are listening, I do not need to be cc-ed on the email you are penning.

Sammy: (laughs) You heard it folks, that’s coming up quickly, but until then we are taking your calls, King Falls. What would you like to talk about this evening, Ben?

Ben: Whatever’s clever.

Sammy: Talking about whatever’s on your minds before what is sure to be a Pulitzer winning interview.

Ben: It’ll be good- you’re making fun- but it’ll be good.

Sammy: How could it not be? You heard our story, King Falls, now let’s hear yours.

Ben: Give us a call at the station- 424-279-3858, or hit us up at the tweet machine!

Sammy: That’s @ kingfallsam and @ kingfallssammy respectively. Line seven you are on the air with King Falls AM.

Pete Meyers: You’re saying to yourself: I don’t think Pete Meyers would listen to a show of this terrible quality, as handsome and as smart as he is. He’s probably watching Big Bang Theory or something.

Sammy: That is exactly what I was thinking, Pete.

Ben: Word for word, almost.

Pete: Look, I don’t like talking to the two of you either.

Ben: Yet you continue to call! And listen! And show up at events!

Pete: Ben if you don’t drop a little bass out of your voice I will roundhouse you right in the gullet the next time I see you. You hear me? I will skullf-(beep) your mom.

Ben: So now you’re threatening me? Do you hear this Sammy?

Sammy: (annoyed) Just hang up.

Pete: (stammering) Whoa, wait, wait, alright? You know, I’m sorry. I’m a little emotional right now… I would never intentionally try to scuff up my lugs on your face, Ben. I apologize.

Sammy: I don’t think that-

Ben: What’s the matter? Got a vampire not appreciating the hedge art you’ve been clipping into the bushes?

Pete: Well it’s kind of about him- did you say vampire?

Ben: (triumphantly) Knew it! Man, just fess up and tell everyone that your boss is a vamp!

Pete: Ben Arnold, I just bought domain to your name. And you know what? I’m going to fill up all the pages with babies and donkeys. What’s the world going to think of you? Some weirdo guy, making an internet site about babies and donkeys? Yeah, that’s right-

Ben: (all riled up) Oh yeah? Ooooooh, Pete! Why don’t you come down here, look me in the eyes, when you’re saying this huh? Huh?!

Sammy: Guys.

Ben: Meanie!

Sammy: Guys! That’s enough. Pete, state your problem or move along.

Pete: Alright, fine. I messed up big time. Worse than the time I dressed up as Edward Scissorhands for Halloween and ruined Mr. B’s hedges. Apparently I pushed a button or didn’t-really-push-a-button on a fancy thing… that’s beside the point. What I really want to know is- did you guys hear something funny on your station a week or two back?

Ben: Um, um, I’m hearing something stupid right now but I don’t know if that’s-

Pete: Come on, Ben! Be serious. I take you seriously- I almost respect you! Now, I heard a little something like maybe you guys got hijacked or something like that and I just wanted to know… you know, what’s up.

Ben: This again?

Sammy: Wait, Ben, we’ve heard this a few times actually. The shotgun guy said it, we’ve had a number of tweets about it. We don’t know anything about this but apparently another feed cut into ours about a month or so ago.

Pete: Oh sh-(beep).

Ben: Watch your language, Pete.

Pete: Watch your… face, Ben.

Ben: Wait, what the hell are you and Beauregard up to?

Pete: None of your damn business.

Beauregard: (from the background of Pete’s call) Yard boy, what are you doing in this chamber without supervision?

Pete: Uhhhhhhh what? Uh, Mr. B, uh nothing!

Beauregard: Don’t act like an ignoramus around the transmorgrifier.

[There are metallic clanks and scrapes in the background and the sound of metal pipes moving around. A whirring humming sound begins like a machine turning on which grows steadily louder]

Sammy: What the hell is going on over there? Pete?

Pete: You made me mess up again you butt smackers.

Beauregard: Don’t just stand there all slack-jawed and drooling. Turn it off this instant. Celestia!

[The whirring cuts off and there is the sound of a call ending]

Ben: What the hell?

Sammy: Well, folks, this is a first for me that I believe an on air failed attempted felony will lead us right into break.

[Cheerful music starts as a commercial begins]

Ernie: Hey there! Ernie Salsado’s leather bound books ain’t your normal bookshop. Maybe you’re asking yourself: Ernie, whatever do you mean? What I mean is that Ernie Salsado’s leather bound books is more than just a hipster reading book nook. We don’t carry none of those cheap-ass paperback books or harlequin novels here, plus you sure as hell ain’t gonna find nothing to read on your I-pad kindle whositswhatsits. For what I understand it’s only first edition leather bound books and (???) up in this joint. Maybe you’re thinking you need to gussy up your place to impress some broad or you have a real need to make people think you got a bigger vocabulary than some Johnny come lately. Either way, Ernie’s got you covered. That’s a book joke! Ernie Salsado’s leather bound books- we got fancy books! F-(beep) you, pay me.

[King Falls AM rock music plays then fades out as the commercial break ends]

Sammy: Ernie Salsado’s leather bound books? There’s two of these stores here? I’ve never even heard of one of them until Rich McGuff! I don’t know what’s more surprising, Ernie’s entrepreneurial rise in the community or him almost making me forget what happened before the break…

Ben: I’m literally afraid to comment one way or another on this.

Sammy: (amused) He is an intimidating specimen.

Ben: (carefully and slowly) If he… likes to hear that, then, yes, you are right. If not, please don’t slander that gigantic human!

Sammy: Ha, no slander intended. We’re taking calls and counting down the seconds before we get a riveting interview with the man who some call the Dan Brown of bird related mysteries.

Ben: Wow, they say that?

Sammy: No, they don’t! (laughs) The phone lines are still lit up, let’s take some calls.

Ben: Good evening, you’re live on King Falls AM.

Greg Frickard: (smugly) Well look who decided to pick up the phone.

Ben: (quickly) Um, let’s take another-

Greg: Hey, Sammy! I’ve got a topic of discussion. Let’s talk about how that co-host of yours is just gonna sit there all quiet and not even mention the fiasco he caused earlier this week at Granny Frickards!

Sammy: Greg? Is everything okay?

Greg: Oh, it’s not okay, Sammy. That- pardon my French- moron, that he would even-

[the sound of a call ending]

Ben: Whoops!

Sammy: Ha!

Ben: Line five you are on with Sammy and Ben!

Sammy: Wow, it looks like you learned a thing or two from Chet, I see.

Ben: Don’t know what you’re talking about!

Caller: Hello?

Sammy: So what happened at Frickard’s?

Caller: Are you talking to me?

Ben: Nothing happened to… let’s just-

Sammy: Not only are you my broadcast partner, I thought we were friends!

Ben: Hey! We are friends! I just didn’t think to tell you that I happened to have dinner at Frickard’s earlier in the week.

Caller: Hellooo?

Sammy: Uh huh. This wouldn’t happen to be the same night Emily was on a business meeting with Greg, would it?

Ben: I really don’t recall but it might have been… that’s a good question.

Sammy: You don’t recall going to your least favorite restaurant in town, which you never eat at, on the night of the King Falls Valentines Day Dance where your main squeeze-

Ben: Watch it.

Sammy: Where the girl you pine for-

Ben: Watch it!

Sammy: Where Emily Potter-

Ben: Thanks.

Sammy: Happened to be roped into a business meeting with Greg Frickard.

Ben: My mortal enemy.

Sammy: Paid sponsor of King Falls AM.

Ben: Whatever.

Sammy: You don’t recall if that’s the night you dined at Granny Frickard’s?

Ben: Ehhhh it’s not really ringing any bells!

Sammy: Maybe we should call Emily.

Ben: Don’t do that!

Sammy: Things coming back to you now?

Ben: Did- ugh… can I fill you in at break and not on the air?

Sammy: You’d better! You know, I’m a little sore that you didn’t tell me to begin with! And this was days ago!

Ben: I’m sorry, man, it’s just it’s not the best story. Believe me.

Caller: Hello? Can we talk now?

Sammy and Ben: No!

[The sound of a call ending]

Sammy: The turkey guy is not sounding so bad right now.

Ben: Ha, why don’t we try… lucky line one, you’re on King Falls AM.

Greg: Hey Ben Arrrnold! Why don’t you tell the whole friggin town about you showing your butt and ruining my business meeting with Emily Potter!

Ben: Greg, I really don’t wanna get into this.

Greg: Ohh, you can’t talk in front of Sammy and the whole town- what’s the matter? Frog got your tongue?

Ben: That's not a saying.

Greg: You sure didn’t have a problem causing a ruckus at the restaurant! In front of Granny no less!

Ben: Can we take another call, Sammy?

Sammy: Is this true, Ben?

Greg: You can’t deny it, Ben Arnold! I’ve got it on camera from multiple angles! You are a heathen.

Ben: Why do you have me making a scene on camera?

Sammy: Multiple angles?

Greg: I’d like to say it’s just the security cameras… but, if you must know, I hid a few cameras around the Froggery for my big night.

Sammy: You call a business meeting your big night?

Greg: With Emily Potter I absolutely do! She is the most beautiful creature in King Falls!

Ben: So you admit that it was a date?

Greg: It was a business meeting with a gorgeous woman! Take it as you will!

Ben: You’re so creepy! God!

Greg: Oh, so it’s creepy. Wanting your gramma and your future children to see the moment their future mother and I fell in love? Recorded for prosperity forever. Probably. Classily edited to voice a man and everything.

Ben: Yeah! It’s creepy!

Greg: (singing) I’ll make love to you! Like you want me to, oh baby hold me tight I will love you all through the night…

Sammy: That is really creepy, Greg.

Greg: You’re just a heathen. You don’t know what love is. What do you know? Tell them what you did, Ben!

Ben: I’m not getting into this on the air, Greg. Let’s just-

Greg: I am a paying sponsor of this show, Ben Arnold! Fess up, right now!

Ben: What are you gonna do, Greg?

Greg: So help me I’m gonna ask Granny- real nice- to pull your sponsorship money!

Sammy: Greg... are you crying?

Greg: (in a high pitched voice) No...

Ben: Hmm, so you’re threatening the show over a personal issue?

Sammy: Greg, we appreciate what you and Granny do for the show and the station-

Greg: I’m glad to see one of you does.

Sammy: But I’m not about to let you threaten taking money away from the station to pressure Ben into talking about something he doesn’t want to. Do what you got to do.

Greg: Ha! Don’t think that I won’t wake up Granny right now!

Ben: You want to talk about this on air, Frickard?

Greg: Tell the people what you did. Just tell them!

Ben: Ugh, okay. So, I made a reservation for myself at the King Falls best f-(beep)-ing Froggery the same night as your video taped date with Emily.

Greg: Keep going.

Ben: Jack-In-The-Box-Jesus, this is ridiculous. Sammy, I made a reservation and I made a scene! The end.

Greg: Details, heathen!

Sammy: Details would be nice here, Ben.

Ben: So, uh, (clears throat) I got there right as Emily was sitting down.

Greg: At a table right next to ours! He requested it!

Ben: That is also true.

Sammy: Ah.

Ben: And that’s that! I watched Greg lose his mind. Nature took its course.

Greg: He ordered every single flambé frog special on the menu.

Ben: Yeah? So?

Greg: Everybody who’s anybody knows that that’s the most romantic frog dish in the world! And you cleaned us out!

Ben: So what? You don’t need romance on a business meeting!

Greg: You ordered twenty of those things just for you!

Ben: And I paid for twenty! What’s your point?

Greg: My point? You didn’t even eat them! You brought in Chipotle!

Ben: Yeah, man! Cause frogs are gross!

Greg: You… you’re gross!

Ben: Oh yeah?

Greg: Yeah. You’re gross! A gross heathen and I… I hate you! I hate you! Ha! I said it. I hate you.

Sammy: Guys…

Ben: I’ll do you one better- I never liked you to begin with. You creep me out.

Sammy: Ben…

Greg: Well, heh, that’s not what your mom says.

Ben: Don’t you bring my mom into this.

Greg: Your mother things I am a fine, upstanding, entrepreneur, and model citizen!

Ben: She’s an idiot then! Sorry mom.

Greg: Heathen!

Sammy: Guys! (Clears throat) Okay so you disturbed Greg’s meeting with Emily. You ordered food you didn’t eat. I-is that it?

Ben: Basically! He lost it because I was probably in the shot of his candid camera date!

Greg: I lost my temper, but you had it coming! You get Emily whenever you want and I schedule months in advance!

Ben: Yeah, and you did it during the Valentine's Day Dance. Just real messed up, man. You’re a stalker.

Greg: Who showed up at whose date, Ben?

Ben: I was just having dinner at my favorite sponsor’s restaurant.

Greg: You don’t even like frogs!

Ben: Nobody does!

Greg: Why don’t you tell them how you got escorted off the premises?

Ben: You just did, idiot!

Sammy: If you were just eating, or not eating as the case may be, how did they have the grounds to toss you out of Granny Frickard’s?

Ben: Ugh. I- I may have started throwing tiny hush puppies in Greg’s general direction.

Greg: You, you, you may have? Pah-lease! You were pretending to be Nolan Ryan while you’re lobbing them at my head.

Ben: You had no right to kiss Emily’s hand!

Greg: Well you wouldn’t have even known if you weren’t, you know, stalking us to begin with!

Ben: Yeah? Well, uh, stay away from Emily!

Greg: Well I won’t have a problem doing that since she hates us both.

Sammy: I’m sorry, what’s that, Greg?

Ben: Can we move on… please.

Greg: Emily left in a huff and said she wasn’t a prize to be won. Totally thought she was roleplaying and I called her princess Jasmine… Which she also didn’t appreciate…

Ben: Nice touch, dumbass. Referencing Aladdin don’t make it right.

Greg: It’s kind of ludicrous when you think about it. I mean, she is a prize to be one. She’s the trophiest of trophy wives to ever be trophy won!

Ben: She’s pretty mad, Sammy.

Sammy: It sounds like she kinda should be…

Ben: She probably hates me now, man. Stupid stunt…

Sammy: I’m sure she doesn’t hate you, Ben.

Greg: Oh yeah, she hates him big time. I mean, she hates us both, but it’s basically a win for me. She was only lukewarm to my intentions but she can’t stand Ben now. She’ll eventually come back around to the Frog Prince if, uh, he’s out of the picture.

Ben: Greg.

Greg: I’ll take your apology on air, Ben. But I would also like it written on a nice piece of cardstock so I can show it to Granny.

Ben: I sincerely hope that you catch a frog-based STD and die.

Greg: And I hope that you find another perfect woman to fall head over heels in love with, Ben, because you just struck out. You stuck out big time.

Ben: You’re an imbecile! Nobody likes eating frogs! It’s 2016, Greg! You’re gross!

Greg: Ha! Shows what you know. Some cultures consider frogs the poultry of the pond.

Ben: Literally no cultures say that!

Greg: Oh yeah? Well ask Kirk Sycamore when he comes on, he’ll show you.

Ben: I’m not asking anybody anything.

Sammy: Greg, I think it’s best if we part ways for the night.

Greg: Fine! No skin off my bubble butt! Later haters!

[The sound of a phone hanging up]

Sammy: I think-

Ben: Can we just go to commercial, Sammy? I just- I can’t right now.

Sammy: D-do you want to? Is that on schedule?

Ben: No! And, no… Ugh, just take a couple more calls before the bird man pops in.

Sammy: Lucky line one you’re live on-

Caller: Hi, Sammy. Hi, Ben…

Sammy: Good evening, Emily. I assume you’ve been listening.

Emily. I’ve been listening.

Sammy: You know what, let me put you on hold so you can talk to Ben off the air.

Emily: No! I’d like to talk to Ben on the air, if you don’t mind, Sammy.

Sammy: You know, I uh… Ben?

Ben: Uh, whatever you want, Emily.

Emily: Okay, you know I don’t hate you, Ben. Far, far from it.

Ben: I’m so sorry Emily. I just, I lost it sitting there, thinking that you were all alone with that creep and-

Emily: You acted like a real ass.

Ben: I know I did!

Emily: I’m not a child, Ben. When I told you that I would love to go to the dance with you, that was the truth. But when I also told you that I was a woman of my word and was going to honor my prior engagements, as stupid and contrived as they were, I meant that too.

Ben: I just-

Emily: You acted like an ass!

Ben: I know, but-

Emily: There’s no explanation that will make this better, Ben! You acted like a jealous boyfriend and I’m not sure if you know this, but you aren’t my boyfriend.

Ben: Can I just say-

Emily: Even if I wanted you to be before, you aren’t. So you have no right to act like this!

Ben: (Pausing) You wanted me to be your boyfriend?

Emily: Before the incident there was no doubt about it.

Ben: After?

Emily: I- I- uh- I can’t let my feelings override the fact that you treated me like a kid, Ben. I am a grown woman! I am a professional woman. I don’t need some white knight to save me from the likes of Greg! And while I appreciate the idea behind it, like I said to you and I said to Greg, I am a person! I have feelings! I’m not a prize to be won!

Ben: I really messed this up, I’m… I’m sorry. Emily if you’ll just-

Emily: I just- I need some time to evaluate what the next step is.

Ben: Because you hate me.

Emily: No! Bec- because I lo- I strongly strongly like, probably definitely on the verge of more. I mean, I was scared to death that you were hurt or worse during Lincoln’s revenge! But I was scared even more when I saw you acting like a high school bully during that meeting.

Ben: You strongly strongly like me?

Emily: I do. But it’s, it’s gonna be a little bit before I can trust you to be okay with that.

Ben: I understand.

Emily: But I… I wasn’t going to let another minute go by of you think that I hated you. Cause I don’t. But you really need to fix this.

Ben: And I will. I- I promise.

Emily: I hope so. (pause) Ah, goodnight, Sammy. Ben.

Sammy: Goodnight, Emily. We will talk soon.

Emily: I’m sure of it. Ah, I actually wanted to talk to you about being one of the library’s spring break speakers soon. I’ll send you an email.

Sammy: Oh, please do. Anything to get the kids back in the library after, you know, Lincoln’s revenge…

Emily: Thanks, Sammy. Goodnight, guys.

Ben: Hey- hey, Emily?

[The sound of a phone hanging up with a beeping that slowly fades out. The King Falls outro music and credits begin.]

References:

Nolan Ryan: a baseball pitcher.

The Big Bang Theory: A television show.

Edward Scissorhands: a charactor from an old fantasy movie by the same name about a man who had scissors for hands.

Harlequin novels: a trashy romance story.

Characters:

Sammy Stevens, Ben Arnold, Troy, Greg Frickard, Emily Potter, Pete Meyers, Beauregard, Ernie Salsado.

#king falls am #king falls am podcast #podcast #podcast transcript #transcript #king falls am transcript #king falls transcript #king falls podcast

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sad-af1121 · 5 years

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A Nuisance (One-shot)

Summary: Everyone has their bad days and unfortunately yours was a mixture of exhaustion and being sick. Steve and Bucky made it their goal to make your day a little better by spoiling you the best they can but how could they help when every ounce of physical love annoyed you? | Marvel AU | Pairings: Stucky x Reader Word Count: 2.4k Warnings: language, some angst? (idk if you count a pouty steve as angst but sure) fluff, comedy and cute-ness overload

A/N: i’m sorry in advance if it seems rushed but i really did try to make it comedic and cute. It’s been a rough two weeks and i really wanted to get this done before the deadline for @babylevines writing challenge! Congrats on the 4k follower's babe! I hope you enjoy :3 Prompt: “Touch me with your cold feet one more time and see what happens.” | Thanking @isaxhorror for giving this a look through! Feedback is welcomed 💜

“They didn’t have any fresh lemons at the store so I got generic lemon juice,” Bucky informed Steve, shutting the front door of their shared apartment. He set the grocery bags on the kitchen island before pulling the contents out from the bags.

Steve turned away from the stove, his eyes scanning the counter. “Buck, why are there so many ice cream flavors? I asked you to get what Y/N likes.”

Bucky sighed, “I didn’t get one flavor of ice cream because I figured if I got the ones she likes, she can pick based off her mood when she gets back home.” He shrugged and walked to the fridge. Steve hummed to Bucky’s remark since he did have a point.

You were called in to work in the early hours of the day, the sun wasn’t even shining through the dull grey-blue skies yet and on top of that, you were fighting a small cold. If it wasn’t for your stubbornness and your passion to work, Steve and Bucky wouldn’t have let you leave, let alone leave the bed. They constantly checked on you, knowing you were going to end up very cranky and exhausted for the rest of the day. After they both came back home from work, they decided to pamper you for the night.

The house chores and dinner would be done by the time you got home. All you would have to do was rest and enjoy the evening and the following weekend with your boys. However, they were hoping that their plan would work and brighten up your mood, but that would be something they’d have to wait and see.

“Buck-”

“She’s parking the car,” Bucky smirked, looking up from his phone screen. “I’ve been texting Babygirl all day. Chill dude, worst-case scenario, she throws a pillow at you for treating her like some fragile pup.”

“Ha, ha. Shut up,” Steve swallowed, throwing a kitchen towel over his shoulder. He was only this way when you weren’t feeling your best. If the world came crumbling down, Steve would make sure to be your shield, protecting you from any harm because you meant everything to him. Both you and Bucky kept the flame of life burning in his chest.

The sound of keys jingling and the doorknob turning caught both of Bucky and Steve’s attention as they prepared themselves for you. Door swinging open, you trudged into your apartment, shutting the door behind you before slumping against the hard flat surface.

Nose slightly discolored with droopy eyelids, you sniffled, sighing in what sounded like a tinge of satisfaction, “I’m hoooome!” You strained, voice raspy and heavy due to your sinus acting up again. Steve involuntarily pouted, his heart aching to see the sight of you so sick and tired. Bucky clenched his jaw and took a deep breath, steadying himself from the anger that was bubbling from within. He craved nothing more than to call your bosses and tell them a thing or two about a proper workplace and how to respectfully treat employees who were under the weather.

Who else calls someone in to work and put others in jeopardy for getting them sick? It’s diabolical.

Giggling at yourself, you move away from the door and set your things to the side, stepping into the kitchen, “What’s all this?” Eyes roaming across the stove then to the dining table, you saw dinner had been made and set for you. The corners of your lips twitched into a lopsided smirk as you looked up at Steve.

“You didn’t have to do all this, baby. We could have ordered take out. I know how hard work can be on you two,” you turned and looked at Bucky who was already standing behind you with a smirk to mirror yours.

“We wanted to do this for you, doll. You work so hard too, ‘n hell, if we want to spoil you, we will. Periodt.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, cringing. “I get your trying to stay hip and modern but PLEASE don’t say that word around me again,” you chuckled as did the boys.

Both Bucky and Steve began to walk toward you and your gut knew they wanted a kiss, but you stopped them the minute they got close, placing a hand on their chests. “I’m sick remember? I don’t think you guys want to get close to me.”

“We’ll be fine. We’re super-”

“Yeah, yeah, super soldiers but I’m not risking it, Steve. Once I’m feeling better, I’ll repay you guys in so many kisses that you’ll be sick of me. But as of right now, I don’t want to be touched,” you sighed, looking between Bucky and Steve.

Bucky nodded and looked at Steve who seemed to be having a hard time dealing with your mood. You saw how his jaw clenched, his heart feeling the slight sting from how forward you were with your emotions and it wasn’t like Steve was against it. He needed to adjust. There was no doubt that Steve didn’t respect your wishes and so he stepped away, clearing his throat before busying himself in washing the dishes from cooking. You swallowed thickly, a small pout forming along your lips.

“Hey, America’s ass.”

Steve turned and you blew him a kiss, hoping it would warm his heart and silently tell him you loved him. When he smiled back, a twinkle forming in his eyes, you knew he was okay. The feelings of content and relief washing over you. It was Bucky’s turn now and you did the same, blowing a kiss, then giggling right after.

His lips bloomed into a toothy grin, his eyes sparkling with admiration and bashfulness. You found this incredibly adorable and you couldn’t help but ruffle his hair. After that, you headed to the bedroom to change into your pj’s.

Once you disappeared into your room, Steve stepped away from the kitchen and joined Bucky on the couch who was playing a game on his phone.

“Don’t mess with Y/N, okay? I think she’d find your annoyance anything but cute today. You saw how she’s acting. Wouldn’t want to ruin her night if you two end up arguing,” Steve warned with a sigh, reminding his lover. On your usual days, you’d find Bucky’s teasing hilarious and downright appealing. However, when you suffered through a rough day like today, for example, you and Bucky would get into a banter that neither parties like to endure. It wasn’t severely serious or anything of that sort and always ended up in kisses and hugs but Steve wanted to avoid that at all costs.

Maybe he was treating you like a small puppy dog after all.

***

“Ugh, baby. You’re the fucking beeeest,” you groaned into your food, your eyes practically rolling inside your head. Your taste buds pranced with happiness, the flavors bringing waves of satisfaction and desire for more. The heat from your supper opened your pores and sinus which allowed some of your tasting senses to come alive.

Steve grinned brightly, looking over at Bucky who chuckled at the blonde for his victory smile. “Had to make my girl happy.”

“You mean our girl, jerk,” Bucky corrected, playfully glaring into Steve’s eyes whilst ripping a piece of baguette with his teeth, chomping on the bread. Steve’s face twisted with disgust and you barked out a laugh, your cheeks warming to how possessive they were getting over you.

“Okay, okay, chillax dudes. I don’t want any bloodshed over dinner. Y’all can wait till after I’m done,” you snorted as Bucky threw a piece of bread at you. You threw one in return which started a mini food war.

“No. Nooope,” Steve got up from the table and opted to eat on the kitchen island. “Totally unnecessary,” he whispered under his breath and it became unfortunate for him because you and Bucky ended up throwing food at him instead.

After dinner, the three of you decided to watch a movie since it was a Friday and none of you had to wake up early the next day. Bucky was picking out a movie, trying to connect his phone to the TV since he found a site that posted movies online without having to leave the comfort of your home and going to the movie theatre.

You quietly sat on the couch with a blanket wrapped around your body, waiting for Bucky. Technology wasn’t his thing but you gave him some room to try before you helped. It was the only way he was going to learn and you loved when he figured it out himself, his charming yet victorious smile blossoming across his face when he succeeded.

Steve had filled three bowls of popcorn since everyone ate theirs differently. Bucky didn’t like too much butter but you did and Steve was just in the middle with added caramel popcorn in the mix so it wasn’t unusual when you guys had your own popcorn rather than share it. He strolled into the living room, setting the bowls on the coffee table before deciding to take a seat next to you.

In Steve’s mind, he thought since dinner was successful and you seemed to be in a better mood, you wouldn't mind if he cuddled, missing the warmth of your body and the touch he just craved so often. It relaxed his every sense, any contact sending an electrifying current throughout his body and sparking something in his heart. You felt like home and being touch-starved by you today wasn’t sitting so nicely with Steve.

Throwing his arm over your shoulder, Steve adjusted himself on the couch before feeling his arm being lifted off your shoulders and into his lap.

“Steve, c’ mon babe. I’m really not in the mood. I’m sorry,” you huffed, a tinge of annoyance lacing your words. “I warned you earlier about getting yourself sick.” You scooted away from him, hoping your soft eyes would make up for it but Steve just growled, getting up and fetching his sketchbook from the shelf by the television.

Not only did he sit away from you but he ignored your attention, frustration weighing on his shoulders. He flipped through the pages of his book in search for a clean page to draw his emotions on and you mentally kicked yourself in the ass because you pushed Steve’s limit.

Huffing in remorse, you snuggled against your blanket, cozying up with the soft material that smelled of lavender. Bucky had finally gotten the movie to play, rushed to the couch and decided to sit with you since Steve was sulking on the other couch.

About 45 minutes into the movie, Bucky had his legs spread out, his head resting on the armrest while his body laid straight, his feet almost touching you. Lost in the plot of the film, you hadn’t noticed he pushed his sockless, icy cold feet under your blanket, the warmth wrapping itself around them. It brought a sort of relief that he wanted more warmth. More from you.

So that was when he touched his feet against your heated thighs, his toes digging in and out of your skin as if he was trying to massage you like a cat would knead a pillow. Instantly, you withdrew a breath, your senses coming into reality. The cold shook you like a bolt of lightning, your nerves screaming for an escape. You allow a few minutes to go by, assuming he’d halt his actions. But the longer you waited, the more he thought it was an invitation to continue.

The only solution you knew at the time was to take deep steady breaths, ignoring the fact that his freezing cold feet were touching your hot skin which brought a shiver throughout your body. You already had the chills due to your sickness and Bucky wasn’t making things any better for you now. What was up with your boyfriends today?

“Holy shit,” Bucky laughed at the television, pulling his legs back. You nipped your lips in happiness, doing a small victory dance in your head. Just as you’re getting comfortable again, Bucky placed his feet back in its previous position, causing you to huff out loud.

“Touch me with your cold feet one more time, and see what happens.”

Both Bucky and Steve whipped their heads towards you, their brows knitting together in confusion. You stare back at them, widening your eyes then signaling down with your eyes to show them the issue.

Inhaling deeply, Bucky paused the movie, “Jesus, really? You could’ve just asked me baby before threatening me.”

Those words alone brought a lump of guilt in your throat. You were very snappy today and it wasn’t like you to get this annoyed.

“Fuck, sorry,” you pouted. “I think I should just get to bed and leave you guys alone. I promise to be better tomorrow,” you whined quietly, your eyes darting between the two.

Bucky silently gnawed on his lower lip before turning his attention to Steve and winking at the old soul. Steve himself was utterly confused but he knew that mischievous smirk in Bucky’s eyes which gave him everything he needed to know.

As you were ready to leave the couch, Bucky leaped towards you, trapping your body underneath his as he playfully growled against your neck and jaw. You had no time to react differently, only the sounds of laughter breaking past your lips. Then came his fingers digging in your sides, the familiar zaps of delight coursing through your nerves. Tickling made your body turn into putty because once someone started, it was harder for you to escape their hold than it was to take it all in and not laugh.

Steve took this time to record a video of the events unfolding in front of his eyes, using a filter that made voices very high pitched. It was one of his favorites when he made videos and he couldn’t get over the fact it made people sound like they were on helium.

“Steve! St-stop recording and save m-meee!” you exclaimed, trying to catch your breath.

Your shrieks of bliss and neediness were enough for Steve to toss his book to the side and pull Bucky off your body, throwing the brunette to the ground with a loud thud.

“What the fuck, Steve!”

“Save it punk. Meet us in the room,” he breathed out a chuckle, sweeping you off the couch and carrying you to your bedroom. You buried your face into his chest in attempts to hide the growing smile that ached your cheeks even more. But you knew he already saw it and now he was going to make sure he gets all the kisses and cuddles he wants.

Even if that meant getting sick because Steve and Bucky would risk everything for you.

__________

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fuck-customers · 4 years

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Alright, some quick background before we get started:

This is a rough map of the front end at my grocery store. It’s not perfectly to scale, but it’ll do. The “HH” on the side stands for “Hidey-Hole.” I’ll explain more about that later. For now, let’s quickly meet the cast of characters in this story:

Me, a cashier at the grocery store for the last three months

“R,” one of the CDH’s. For those of you who don’t know, CDH is basically the level between cashiers and management. R was a full-time CDH, but he recently dropped to part-time. R is a douchebag. Pretty much the entire front end can’t stand him, supervisors included.

“C,” another part-time CDH. C is a bit of a pain in the ass sometimes, but I respect him. He’s trying to do his job and wants what’s best for the store.

Our story begins on December 23rd at around 10pm. I was on register 22, which is express, and my line was probably 3 or 4 people deep. For 10pm, that’s a little high (our store is usually dead by around 9:30), but obviously it was busier because of Christmas. Still, I was working through the line pretty quickly because for once people were actually paying attention to the express sign.

Unfortunately, then I had a customer buy a couple of gift cards, and because corporate lowered our gift card purchase limit that week, I needed a manager key to ring them in. Okay, no problem. I set my lane light to flash and waited for a CDH to come over.

Now, we may have been a little busier than usual that night, but don’t get me wrong, it was still very quiet. I expected a CDH to come by within 30 seconds, a minute tops. Well, a minute passes, and then two, and my line is now 6 deep, which is ridiculous for an express lane at 10pm.

This is the part where I explain the Hidey-Hole. Basically, it’s a little alcove type situation in the wall of the front end. On one of the walls, it has the clipboard that says who’s on the shift, as well as a phone. There’s also a staircase leading up to the manager offices and place where we punch in etc etc, as well as the door to the cash room. If you’re standing in the Hidey-Hole, you can pretty much see all of the main line registers (11-23), so if someone is flashing their light, it’s easy to spot. However, you cannot see the registers from inside the cash room or from the stairs.

So at this point it’s been 3-4 minutes that I’ve been flashing my light, which is ridiculous, but hey, it’s two hours to close, the CDH’s are starting to pull trays, so I reasonably assume they’re in the cash room and can’t see me. I tell my customer I’m going to go check the cash room. I head over there and I’m about to knock on the door when I see C and R sitting on the stairs and talking.

At this point, I’m a little frustrated, obviously, so I tell them I’ve been flashing for two minutes (which i should’ve said 4, but still). C tells me he’s on break, which is fine, but R wasn’t. So he comes over, does my item limit, and he’s clearly grumpy at me.

A few minutes later, C comes over to me saying that he’ll cover my line because R wants to talk with me. And listen, y’all, cross my heart, I was gonna go over to the Hidey-Hole and talk to him. Hell, I was gonna apologize for snapping at him too. All I wanted to do was finish with the one customer I was helping, and I told C that. The lady was literally paying. All I needed was one minute, and I’d be done with that customer and I’d go over there to talk with R. And C says okay, and he hangs with me to let me finish with that customer.

Just as I’m about to finish with that customer, I see R storming from the Hidey-Hole all the way up towards the pharmacy. I’d say he probably stormed off after 30 seconds of waiting. 30 seconds more, and I would’ve gone over and apologized. But he stormed off to the other side of the front end, and I wasn’t going to follow him. Luckily, C backed me up, said he wasn’t going to deal with R’s bullshit, and so C walked away and I kept on dealing with my customers.

R continues ranting and raving for quite some time. I even caught him saying the phrase “rip her off of her register,” which in hindsight I probably should’ve reported at the time. But anyway, later that evening I need a manager key for something else. At that point, C and R were pulling trays a few registers ahead of me, and they were more or less next to each other so either of them could’ve come to help. They both see my light flashing, and I shit you not, R says, loud enough for me and my customers to hear, “C, your boss is calling.” Which, I don’t know what exactly about that line made me uncomfortable, but something did. But anyway, I keep working, R keeps giving me attitude, whatever.

I thought for sure that R was going to either give me shit over this or report me to management, but I don’t hear anything about the incident until the 29th, when C tells me that R actually tried to rat me out but management took my side. C and I have a good chuckle over the whole thing, and I figure this whole mess is over.

The next day, I’m working 3-9, and I’m over the damn moon that I managed to clock out right on time because R decided to come in at 9 to help close, God knows why. Anyway, I’m off the clock, but I have some shopping to do, so I do my shopping and come up to the register. And I had a rain check slip. Usually with rain checks you don’t need a manager key, but they’re a pain in the ass to ring in so sometimes cashiers call a CDH over to help anyway. So the cashier helping me calls over a CDH to help with the rain check, and R comes over. He takes one look at me and says “oh, I better do this quickly before she yells at me.” Which, could I have let that go? Yeah. But I didn’t. I think I said something like “really? come on man I’m not even on the clock.” Right away he snaps at me that he’s talking with my coworker and it’s none of my business.

Let that sink in, yeah? He talked shit about me to my coworker in front of me and I heard him. How in the hell is that not my business?

Anyway, at this point I was totally done with this clown so yesterday (the 31st) I told the head CDH about this and he said that he was going to talk to management because R’s behavior is “getting out of hand,” which it is. Hopefully R might actually start facing some consequences.

#cashier problems #fuck retail #fuck managers #submissions #submission

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killjoy-loveit · 4 years

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Something You’re Not

A/N: Welcome to Spring Season Stories! This is the 18th of the daily stories in April, so be on the lookout for more! If you’re wondering what the posting schedule is, then search ‘Spring season Stories’ on my blog and the calendar should pop up. I would like to clarify that everything written in this story is complete fiction and isn’t to be taken as a true portrayal of reality. As always, the links for my masterlists will be in the notes, though I have come to find (after months of doing this lmao) that on mobile you have to click my reblog of the post to actually get the links- same applies to desktop. I am just going to add that I am planning on a part 2 of this, just so y’all don’t think I’m 110% out to crush your hearts.

Summary: Not everything is what it seems.

Word Count: 2,832

Genre: Spy AU, Angst, a bit of fluff in the middle

Light spilled in from the window behind you, easily illuminating the papers sitting out on your desk. Despite being easy to read, you wanted to slam your head against the desk in frustration. How is it okay to send so much paperwork, to analyze and go over, a mere hour from the meeting? Your boss must be out of his mind to think you’d be able to fully comprehend over a hundred pages filled with legal jargon in that short of a time frame. A scream of annoyance built up in your throat as thoughts plagued you to just toss the documents and finally quit. It sucked to be taken advantage of like this, over and over again.

All because your boss, Mr. Dunne, the eccentric government official he was, knew that you weren’t very good at saying no to more work. This was because you were desperate to prove your value as an employee for your government so that you might be promoted. There was no way in hell you were going to let your political science degree, acquired from one of the most prestigious universities in the nation, go to waste. Putting up with such harsh extremes was your duty as you, unluckily, were hired to assist him with his work, rather than his kinder associate Ms. York.

She was the one you were hoping to work for in all honesty. Ms. York was known for her high morals and consideration of the people, not to mention she was one of the youngest government officials in office and a woman at that. There were times you ran into her in the hallways and she always made sure to greet you politely, asking how you were doing, before moving on her way. Everyone spoke highly of her, even the terrible Mr. Dunne, whose approval was difficult to gain.

“Enough of dwelling on how Mr. Dunne sucks, these papers aren’t going to analyze themselves,” you muttered quietly.

Just like that, your mind focused on the task at hand, letting go of the heavy frustration and annoyance weighing on your mind. Words seemed to bleed together as your eyes flew over each page, taking brief seconds to highlight important parts. Little notes were written in the margins if a section didn’t quite make sense, while small stars indicated something that was written well. By the end of the hour, you had managed to go over approximately ninety percent of the papers placed on your desk. Which was an excellent job, if you must say so yourself.

At that moment a knock sounded on your office door before opening to reveal Mr. Dunne himself. He stepped in with an air of authority that would make anyone else afraid to question him. His demeanor was always something you had admired, despite his terrible personality, he always carried himself well and demanded respect wherever he went.

“Do you have the papers ready?”

A tight smile graced your lips. “I have almost finished all of them. If I could be admitted into the meeting later I can finish the rest and bring them to you then.”

“You couldn’t finish such a small task?” His tone dripped with disapproval.

“Sir, I sincerely apologize. I have only ten more pages left to go over. I can give you what I’ve finished and bring the rest into the meeting later if you allow me to.”

“Fine. Give me the ones that are finished.”

The smile you held firmly on your face was starting to feel painful. “Yes sir, of course. Here they are.” You stated politely, lifting the stack of papers and handing them to him.

Mr. Dunne let out an annoyed huff before turning and excusing himself from your office. Once you were sure he was gone, you dragged your hands down your face in frustration. Letting out a sigh you turned your attention to the remaining ten pages, refocusing in on the work.

Each place you went in the store was crowded with those who were doing their grocery shopping after getting off work. Normally you were aware of this rush and you tended to avoid it by shopping early on the weekends, but you hadn’t been able to make it this past weekend. Now you were stuck having to go during the store’s busiest hours, having to squeeze through the throngs of people just to get a few items. There were only a few things left for you to collect before being able to rush home: milk, bread, and cheese. Getting the last two items was no big deal, but as you made your way to the refrigerated section containing milk, it was clear that you might not leave the store with the half-gallon you’d wanted.

You were about to turn around, giving up on the milk entirely when you saw one left, sitting at the very back of the section. Quickly, you made your way to it, hand outstretched and ready to grasp the handle. But someone beat you to it. With a spin of your heels, you turned to face the person who had taken the half-gallon you were going for. The guy in question seemed to be oblivious that you had even been there, let alone reaching for the same thing as him. A small sound of frustration escaped you at the loss. It appeared you wouldn’t be having coffee this week, not unless you woke up earlier to stop by a cafe on your way to work.

“Are you okay?” A voice broke through your thoughts of having to endure Mr. Dunne without being properly caffeinated.

Your eyes locked onto the guy who had just barely managed to swipe the milk from you, all without realizing he’d done so. “Yeah… Yeah, it’s just that was the last of the milk and I need milk for my coffee. I’m now going to have to handle my boss without coffee. Let me just tell you, I have never known someone more frustrating than him!” You complain, hands waving in the air when talking about Mr. Dunne. A second later, after seeing the guy’s bewildered face, embarrassment crept up on you. “Sorry, you probably didn’t need all of that information. Umm, I’ll be on my way now.”

You had maybe made it a couple of feet before you felt something being placed into your basket. Tilting your head, you spotted the same guy you’d just been conversing with. The milk settled in your basket.

He gave you a small smile. “I figure you need this more than me, I don’t need it to put up with my boss.”

“I-Uh… Thank you. No, really, thank you so much!”

His eyes shone with a gentleness, this paired with the way he nodded at you before turning around had you calling out for him to wait.

“Yes?”

“Umm, well… Could I maybe treat you to coffee sometime to thank you?” You asked softly.

“I’d like that.”

It wasn’t until a week later that you were both able to meet up for coffee. Chan, you’d learned his name when exchanging contact information, was kept almost as perpetually busy as you were. Everything had started smoothly, a light chatter being upheld as you ordered your drinks and paid. But that chatter has long since faded and you felt awkwardness creeping up on the two of you. You, for one, were staring down at the table, every so often your gaze flickered over to Chan sitting opposite you. Wracking your brain for anything to start up the conversation anew was slightly frustrating. Any way you typically knew how to create a conversation had fled your mind, leaving you alone with frantic thoughts along the lines of ‘how do you converse with someone?’.

Finally, the silence was broken by Chan himself. “So, what do you do for work? I remember you mentioning that your boss is pretty difficult.”

The tension in your body eased off as you were freed from thinking about how to start a conversation. “Yes! He really is hard to put up with. My job is kind of odd, I work for the government but not in one specific area. The man who works over me, my boss, has duties in multiple departments and since I’m his assistant, I also technically work in multiple areas as well.”

“I’ve never met anyone who works for the government before. What’s it like?” He asks, tilting his head.

“Well, it’s not easy, that’s for sure. Right now I don’t exactly have high clearance so I deal with all the paperwork and subsequent tasks for my boss. Basically I do the grunt work, make reports and file things to make his job easier.”

Over the next year, the two of you grow closer. Near constant texting turns into spending practically every spare moment together. You’ve come to find you simply enjoy Chan’s presence, the stress, and tension held in your shoulders because of work lessening when he’s around. It wasn’t uncommon to spy the two of you together at a cafe in the early morning hours, or grabbing takeout before heading to your apartment to watch movies. During this time you learned more about each other than you think you’ve ever learned of someone in only a year.

If someone asked, you could tell them his favorite elementary school teacher, the way he likes his coffee, his favorite water brand, that he’s a sensitive soul, when he lost his first baby tooth, or how he broke his arm in high school; Not to mention so much more. The same could be said for him, even some of the more embarrassing moments of your life that you had spilled while drunk. Granted you weren’t alone in your ability to embarrass yourself while drunk, you had more than enough ammunition to tease him on the regular. However, you found yourself wishing for more, just a little bit. Your heart swelled at the mere thought of him, and the way your other friends teased you about him always managed to make you blush furiously.

It was hard to tell if he felt the same way, even though the few times your other friends had spent with the two of you had convinced them he was most certainly interested in you as well. They managed to hype you up to this point: inviting him over for dinner and telling him how you felt. Just the thought of having to say those words ‘I don’t want to be just friends’, made your heart hammer in your chest. Speaking of, Chan’s due to arrive any time now, meaning it’s time to double-check everything. Chicken bolognese was doled out perfectly on two plates, finished just a few minutes ago, joined by a sweet wine settled in the decanter your sister gifted you over the holidays.

Digging your teeth into your lower lip, you wondered if this was too much, or too serious. After all, neither of you had ever had a dinner like this together before. Thankfully a knock at the door put an abrupt dent in your harried mind.

“Is this too serious?” You ask after showing him to the small dining area. “It is, how about we just go eat in the living room?”

Chan laughs quietly. “Whatever would put you at ease.”

“Living room it is then.”

Moving the food was no difficult task, and soon enough you were settled on the couch, feet tucked underneath you. With the television on in the background, conversation flowed as per usual. Quick rundowns of your days before moving on to different topics, most of which were based on different articles one of you had read. Just as you finished dinner and were preparing to tell him, you received a text from Mr. Dunne - who was no longer your boss, since you’d gotten promoted a few months prior, but you still worked with him on important proposals - informing you of an emergency related to the new draft you were working on. Apparently an official from the country you were trying to work out an agreement with had sent in new demands.

After apologizing profusely and being waved off by Chan, who understood the importance of your work, you grabbed your laptop and proceeded to work in the living room. Despite having to work through quite a few new emails relating to the issue, the conversation continued in a relaxed manner. Until all the wine hit your bladder, and you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, setting the laptop on the coffee table and rushing off. You took a bit longer than usual, checking on your appearance, making sure not a hair was out of place. Maybe your cheeks were a tad pink, but it was hard to tell if it was due to the alcohol in your system or if you were preemptively embarrassed.

Neither option truly mattered it’s not like slightly pink cheeks suddenly made you unattractive. Taking a deep breath, you exited the bathroom, an anxious smile tugging at your lips. Normally Chan could always tell when you were coming back and he would call out to you before you even made it to wherever he was. This time he didn’t. This time, he was leaning forward, eyes glued to the screen of your laptop, fingers tapping away at the keys. A chill went down your spine. What is he doing? Did he need to look something up? Why didn’t he say something if he needed to use your laptop?

Creeping closer as silently as possible, you peered over his shoulder to see what he was looking at. At that moment you had the urge to throw up. Your stomach gurgled as the food you’d just consumed felt like it was souring in place. Why would he do this? Was he using me this entire time? To get information? How long has he been doing this? Your eyes stung with unshed tears, your lungs felt like they were on fire. You stumbled back, unable to stand behind him any longer, a choked breath alerting him of your presence.

Chan’s head whipped around, eyes going wide at the sight of you. “I didn’t hear you get back.”

“What were you doing?” Your voice came out shaky and you could feel your hands trembling at your sides.

He smiled nervously, his hand going to the back of his neck. “Nothing, I was just looking at the forecast for the week.”

You head spun. He lied to you. You caught him, he had to know that you saw, and he blatantly lied to you. “Don’t. Don’t lie to me. Why were you looking at my work files? You know those are confidential.”

He tried to play it off by looking embarrassed by his actions. “I’m sorry, I got curious. You’re always talking about it but you can never get into specifics.”

“Stop! Stop treating this as if it isn’t a big deal! I invited you over to tell you I’m interested in being more than friends, and you- you… You’re lying to me.” You back away from him, shaking your head, a stray tear sliding down your cheek.

“You want to date me?” He asked standing up, lips parted in surprise.

“Don’t change the topic,” you say harshly. “Tell me what you were doing. Is this the first time you’ve gone onto my laptop and accessed confidential files?”

It took a minute for him to answer, a minute that felt like an eternity. “It’s not the first time.” Your sob echoed in the room, causing him to move towards you with a distressed look on his face. “Wait, please, you don’t understand —”

“What is there to understand? You used me! I could get fired because of you!”

“Please,” Chan begged, stepping forward to grasp your hands in his.

You ripped your hands from him. “Was anything out of your mouth the truth or was everything a lie? Did you ever consider what would happen to me if it’s discovered I was the one you took information from? You know what, I don’t want your excuses, those are left to real friends. And that’s something you’re not.”

“Please, just let me explain.”

Shaking your head, you point towards the entrance to your apartment. “Get out.”

“Please,” he breathed, eyes watery as he stared at you. You felt your heart shatter.

“Leave. Get out. Now.” You set your jaw, looking away from him as more tears slid down your cheeks. “Don’t make me say it again.”

His footsteps sounded on the wooden floors as he walked away, getting softer with each step he took. Once the sound of the door being opened and shut echoed in the apartment, you felt your legs give out. You didn’t have the strength to get up, remaining on the floor as you felt the world crumble around you. A mess of emotions warred within you: disbelief, rage, betrayal, sadness. What are you meant to do now?

#spring season stories #a.c.e #a.c.e fanfic #a.c.e scenarios #a.c.e spy au #a.c.e angst #a.c.e yuchan #a.c.e chan #a.c.e chan fanfic #a.c.e chan scenarios #a.c.e yuchan fanfic #a.c.e yuchan scenarios

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chasseurdeloup-retired · 4 years

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Taking Whisks || Roland and Kaden

TIMING: Before the scream LOCATION: Roland’s house PARTIES: @sgtrolandhills and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Upon learning that Sarge eats way too many Lean Cuisines and doesn't even know what a roux is, Kaden offers to teach Roland some cooking basics. The pair bond and have a perfectly pleasant evening. (But for real)

While he could solely rely on prepped delivery boxes with the simplest of instructions, Roland realized he was probably getting too old to not have any real cooking skills. It didn’t look like the being alone aspect of things was changing anytime soon either. With him feeling more and more like he was failing in his work life, he needed something for himself in his personal life. He enjoyed eating. What better hobby to pick up than cooking? Plus, Kaden seemed to know what he was talking about with his roux and flour. He liked Langley well enough. A bit of a wild card, but he could see them getting on outside the station. A friend or two couldn’t hurt, right? That’s what he told himself as he opened the door to welcome Kaden into his home. “Hey,” he greeted, “I appreciate you taking the time to show me the ropes of cooking. I have some beer in the fridge-- lady at the store said it was French. I also have some pinot noir which is apparently pretty nice. Haven’t tried it myself yet.” He had planned on sharing it with Erin, but it was now very apparent what a bad idea that would be. Even if there was no longer evidence against her, he couldn’t look past what he’d seen.

As Kaden stepped up to his boss’s house, he realized he hadn’t planned ahead very well. Well, alright, he had planned ahead and brought not just his own food to cook, but his own pots and pans, too. Okay, sure, Sarge probably had pots and pans but he couldn’t guarantee a man who ate lean cuisines had adequate cooking equipment. What he hadn’t planned on was how in the hell he was going to ring the doorbell. Kaden tried to angle his elbow to knock the door bell but he couldn’t get it just right. He then tried to adjust the pots and pans in his arms to try and wriggle a free hand to knock on the door but there was just too much. Sure, he could just sit something down first and then knock or use the doorbell, but then he’d have to reach down and pick it all up again. Instead, Kaden decided to knock on the door with his foot. Some might call it kicking, but it was clearly a knock. “Hey, Sarge,” he said as the door swung open. “Don’t mention it. I can’t let you waste away on, what are they called again, Lean Cuisines?” Kaden shuddered at the thought. “I’m no master chef, alright, but I can teach a few basics. Trust me, you’ll never be able to go back.” As Kaden settled in the kitchen, he couldn’t help but think how strange it was that he had co-workers. He was so used to being a weird freelancer type, taking whatever odd jobs paid the bills, hunting and relying on the kindness of his hunter contacts. This whole same people every day thing was new. And strange. Stranger yet was that he sort of respected and like Roland. “This wine doesn't look half bad,” he said, looking over the bottle. “You didn’t get it on account of me, right?”

While he and Langley didn’t get to do too much talking at work, Roland did respect him. Animal Control was a vital part of public safety, especially in this town where aggressive animals seemed to somehow be the norm. He looked forward to learning the basics of cooking from him. Weren’t the French notorious for really fine cuisine? From Lean Cuisines to fine cuisine-- that sounded like quite the tagline. “Yeah, you got that right. I take it they don’t have Lean Cuisines in France,” he joked. “I’m sure you’re way ahead of me. I have it on pretty good authority you make good pies.” Why Dr. Kavanagh knew that, he wasn’t sure, but he trusted her to be objective above all else. He welcomed the younger man into his kitchen and gave him a brief tour of his home. There wasn’t much in the way of decor and sometimes he missed the little odds and ends Isabel always kept around to make it feel more welcoming. He’d never been good at that whole home decor thing. At the mention of the wine being nice and Kaden wondering why he’d gotten it, he frowned slightly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, uh,” he started, “Originally thought I’d share it with a lady friend, but things didn’t quite work out.” It felt odd saying it out loud and he was sure Langley didn’t need to hear about the sad state of his love life. To lighten the mood, he cracked a small smile. “Don’t worry, Langley, not trying to woo you with the fancy wine instead.” He watched as Kaden began unloading bags onto his freshly cleaned kitchen counter. “So what all did you bring and what are we making,” he asked.

“I don’t believe they do, no. I think half the country might riot at the thought alone,” Kaden joked as he started placing his cooking accoutrement on the counter, getting things set up and situated for the lesson at hand. The mention of his pie brought a small smile to his face. It had to be Regan who told him about the pies, right? He shook his head, tried to focus, didn’t need to sit there grinning like an idiot while thinking about his girlfriend, not after what Sarge just told him. “A lady friend, huh?” Kaden was ready to jibe him, but the look on Sarge’s face made him think better of it. “I’m sure she wasn’t worth it,” he said with a shrug. “Hey, you never know. I’m quite a catch, after all,” he said as he started setting out the ingredients one by one, trying to keep them in order that seemed sensical, easy to follow. “I will warn you, though. I’m taken so sorry to dash your hopes. I know. You’re crushed.” He took his pot and set it on the burner and started the heat it up, low and slow. “So we’re going to start with a roux. It’s a decent base to make a lot of sauces. We can make a white and a red sauce so you have some basic options. You’ll never want to look at a Lean cuisine ever again.” At least he hoped. Sarge was a nice guy. There was no need to keel over on account of the massive amounts of sodium he was likely consuming. “So how did you end up in White Crest, anyway?

The thought of a bunch of French men rioting over Lean Cuisines was pretty comical. Roland chuckled heartily and noticed the small grin on Kaden’s face. It was kind of nice to see him in good spirits. Usually when he saw Langley, Wu or Stryder were ribbing him. Amusing as it was, he knew it could make anyone a little annoyed. Thankfully, Kaden wasn’t pushing the mention of a lady friend. His own lapse in judgment bothered him more than anything else. A pretty face had never been able to fool him in the past. He shrugged, “Definitely am better off. Just thought I was a better judge of character, but what can you do?” Clearly not much considering the evidence against Erin had just vanished somehow. It wasn’t something he wanted to dwell on. All he could do was move forward and work the case alone. Not that his detectives left him with much of an option until he figured out just who was compromising cases so carelessly. He couldn’t help but laugh at Kaden going along with his joke. “Damn, glad I didn’t splurge on the fancy cheese then.” He looked over the ingredients Kaden was pulling out and added them to his mental grocery list. “A roux is a sauce base. I’ve had red and white sauces before… not sure if they’re the same ones, but I’ll give them a go. What would I put them on,” He imagined some sort of meat, vegetable, or pasta which didn’t narrow much of anything down. “I do plan on ditching the Lean Cuisines though.” Mostly on account of needing to take better care of himself. The next question made him shake his head. “Funny story, actually,” he said with a laugh, “I was transferred here. Pretty sure it was because I was hopping ranks too quickly and my boss didn’t want me to get a promotion over him… or I was digging too deeply into a case they wanted to keep hushed. Either way, I’m almost positive they wanted me out of Boston. Joke’s on them, somehow White Crest manages to be more exciting than Boston. What about you? I’m sure Maine is no France.”

“Well, better to figure it out now and not months later.” Kaden huffed out a small laugh, more at himself than Roland. True, things were fine now but he spent how long thinking Regan was human? At least Sarge wouldn’t have to deal with any fall out later “Sorry, just thinking about-- Uh, nevermind.” He pulled out the ingredients, butter, flour, heavy cream. “Yeah, it’s a base, good for a béchamel or espagnole, it can just add a good rich base to a lot of sauces” Kaden reached into one of the bags he brought with him and pulled out a bottle of wine. “And you can add wine to about any sauce to make it better. Sort of a solid rule. Never fails.” As he started working, Kaden explained as he went, showing Roland exactly what he was doing, trying his best to elaborate on it. He wasn’t sure if it all made sense. But he tried and hoped Roland was getting something out of it. “Sure seems like you got more than you bargained for.” Hopping ranks too quickly? That didn’t surprise him. Roland seemed the type to throw himself into work head on, unflinchingly. Part of him figured that was a result of this divorce but maybe Kaden was mistaken and it was the other way around. “Yeah, it’s very different, that’s for sure. I actually was last in Montreal, though. Not as big a leap, but certainly different.” Kaden stirred the sauce in the making, never taking his eyes off it as he did. “This is probably my first longer term job, believe it or not. Most didn’t really have ranks you could hop. Odd jobs are odd that way.”

“Very true,” Roland agreed. It would have stung much more if he had let himself grow more fond of Erin only to discover the truth. There seemed to be a joke that he didn’t quite get, but Kaden seemed to prefer writing it off. Outside the station, he didn’t make it a habit of pushing people to share. Butter, flour, and heavy cream seemed odd for a sauce, but he supposed flavored correctly it could almost be a picatta or alfredo. He still looked a bit confused as he looked over the ingredients. “Becham-what? I don’t think I’ve had that,” he said somewhat embarrassed even though both words sounded French. He’d at least heard about the wine thing if only because he likes the chicken in white wine sauce at the Cheesecake Factory. “I’ve heard about the wine thing before. Not that I’ve tried it in practice myself, but I’m not completely hopeless.” He realized he may have sounded a bit arrogant, but he knew his former boss was nothing if not insecure. If anything, Roland took pride in his officer moving up because it meant he was doing his job as a leader. “You’re telling me,” he said with a hearty laugh, “This place makes Boston seem like Disneyland. Just means we all have our work cut out for us to make this town a safer place to live.” He followed along as Laden started the roux and listened to the instructions closely before he touched anything. He listened, too, genuinely curious to know more about Kaden. “Montreal, huh? Went there once with my family on vacation. Definitely a different world. Seems like you’re pretty well travelled,” he noted. It was a bit surprising to hear this was his most long term job. “Do you prefer Animal Control to the odd jobs you’ve held in the past? You seem to have a passion for it.”

“Béchamel,” Kaden repeated. He didn’t expect Sarge to get the accent right, rarely did many Americans manage. “It’s similar to an alfredo, but different. You’ll see. Or taste, rather.” Kaden continued working the roux, making sure it mixed and thickened, but stayed light. “Really, so long as it tastes good, that’s all that matters. Cooking’s not too hard when you look at it like that.” He grabbed a second pan and placed it on the stove, gesturing for Roland to take a spot there and try his hand at it. With some guidance, of course. “This town certainly isn’t boring, you can’t deny that,” he said with a half-hearted laugh. “But yeah, I’ve traveled around a lot. Grew up in Lyon, France. Saw most of the country, not all of it of course, moved to Germany after--” Kaden clenched his jaw, stopping his sentence short. Strange how he got used to just casually talking about his parent’s death with so many people. Still wasn’t something he liked to just bring up out of nowhere. “Anyway, lived there a while, I’ve seen a lot of Europe, then came over to Montreal for a bit and now I’m here.”

It was strange to realize how different his life was here to his past. Weirder yet, he didn’t hate it. He was so fucking sure just less than a year ago that stability was the enemy and that it was the last thing he wanted; that it would make his life boring or pointless or just not worth living. Part of him hated how much he preferred things now. Another part wondered what things would be like if he’d opened himself up to things a little sooner. “Surprisingly, yeah. Love it.” He brushed his hands together, looking around for the next ingredient. “Never thought I’d be the type to like a structured job with all the authority and everything.” Kaden tapped the spoon on the edge of the pot, pausing before taste testing. “Not sure there’s any ranks for me to hop but I’m really good with where I am. Guess there’s probably room for improvement, all that.” He took a look at Sarge’s attempts at the sauce. “There’s some room for improvement there, too. But not a bad start.”

It didn’t come as a surprise to Roland that he couldn’t say the name of the fancy French sauce correctly. Even when Kaden repeated it, he looked at him a bit wide-eyed, and tried saying it again more slowly. Still didn’t sound the same, but it was probably at least a little bit closer. “I do like alfredo sauces,” he noted but failed to mention that he primarily ate the Lean Cuisine Chicken Alfredo. Hopefully, this roux tasted even better since the Lean Cuisine one lacked in flavor. It was really a matter of convenience. He didn’t have any sort of passion for food like some folks seemed to. It was a means to an end. “I guess you’re right there. Here’s to hoping all the frozen and canned food hasn’t totally destroyed my palette,” he joked with a laugh. He listened to as Kaden explained his travels and how he ended up here, but also carefully watched the ingredients being prepped. “Sounds like you’ve definitely seen a nice chunk of the world. I’m glad you ended up here though. Not everyone could do your job, especially in this town.” The records alone indicated just how aggressive the animal population was, but after that night stuck in that house with Marley, Roland realized just how dangerous Langley’s job really was.

He slowly stirred the sauce in the pot to keep it from coagulation and listened as Kaden spoke. It brought Roland joy to know that Langley found his job enriching. There wasn’t much room to move up within the department, but pay raises came based on performances and he’d love to hear any ideas Kaden had to help improve the department. “I’m glad you enjoy your job. From what I’ve seen, you’re good at it,” he said truthfully. He took a taste of the sauce and it wasn’t bad. Wasn’t great, but was definitely a step up from a Lean Cuisine. “Mm,” he started, “Definitely an improvement. But in all seriousness, if there’s any changes or efforts you’d like to implement within the department, let me know. I can put in a good word and help push things forward.”

“Sure have. There’s something to be said for stability though. Everywhere’s a little different, it’s good to travel, but it’s nice to have a home.” At least that was what Kaden imagined. White Crest was starting to feel more like a home than any place had in a long time. Lyon, sure, but that was a long time ago. And even then. Kaden tried to hold back a laugh at the second part. Sarge has no idea how right he was that not just anyone could make it as an animal control officer in White Crest. Hell it took a literal hunter. And even then. “Thanks, though. Definitely glad you ended up here, too. Even if you’re probably way too good for this small town force.” He took a moment to taste Roland’s sauce. Not bad. “Add a little salt.”

At Roland’s offer, Kaden paused and his head tilted in thought. His sauce was all but forgotten for a moment. Did Sarge really trust him? Have faith that he knew what he was doing enough to-- “You’d do that?” was all he could manage to ask. He wasn’t even remotely sure how to feel about it. The only job anyone ever trusted him to do and do well was hunting. Hell, it was the only long term position he’d ever really held. “I always worry I’m screwing up more than not or that-- I don’t know.” That he wasn’t good enough. “I know I keep saying it but, thanks. I mean that. I’ll, uh, I’ll think on it.” A brief pause and a million thoughts flooded into his mind. “I mean I already know we need some more help I think. I know it’s a small town but even another part time officer on shift would help a lot. And, uh, maybe more snare poles. Stronger ones. Sturdier cages. And an outreach program to educate people on what to do wh--” In all his excitement and ideas, Kaden almost forgot the sauce. And that he needed to keep stirring. “Putain!” It was darker than he wanted. “Oh well, still better than a lean cuisine. I’m sure I can save it somehow. Yours looks pretty good, though. Good job. I think you’re getting the hang of it.”

“I get that,” Roland responded as he continued to stir the sauce. He wasn’t so sure if White Crest felt like home, especially not after what happened with Erin. It seemed to only reaffirm the notion that he was supposed to be alone in the world. It would inevitably make it easier. He had no disillusions about how he’d go out. The risks were apparent when he first joined the force so many years ago and even more so after his father died in the line of duty. He supposed he did feel a sense of responsibility for the community. Did that make somewhere home? He didn’t want to recall the last time anywhere felt like home. Instead, he’d take his sauce only needing a touch more of salt as a victory. He added a dash of sauce and mixed it in before giving it another taste. “I think that may be spot on now.”

Roland wasn’t sure why what he said to Langley came as a surprise. He believed in helping good workers grow and important departments expand. In this town, Animal Control was vital. What he and Stryder had seen in that house only proved that belief. “Of course,” he answered, “I wouldn’t have said it if I hadn’t meant it. You do good work and I’ve seen some of the more aggressive animals in this town. Your work is a vital part of public safety, If you have any ideas to improve that, I want to hear them and help make them happen.” He’d meant it. When Kaden started to excitedly list ideas, he couldn’t help but smile as he continued to stir his sauce. That kind of passion for the job was something he loved seeing, even if it wasn’t necessarily his department. A safer community meant the whole station was doing their job. He made a mental list of everything Kaden said. “More snare poles, but stronger. Sturdier cages. I’ll have to run the idea of another part time officer by the department head, but I’ll see if I can have some pull in that. Those all sound like good ideas, Langley.” He was a bit amused that Kaden had messed up his sauce and shook his head. “You may have gotten a bit distracted, but I think you know what you’re doing well enough to fix it. I’m pretty happy with mine. Definitely better than Lean Cuisine.”

“Right, yeah, of course.” Kaden was pretty sure the corners of his mouth were turning up into a smile. This was stupid. He knew he did a better job than most animal control officers in the past and certainly better than Gary. He also had an advantage over most people trying for the job in this town. Still, it just, it wasn’t all that often that anyone told him he did a good job. His work was vital for public safety. It was something he knew but the acknowledgement from someone else, someone he respected; it felt better than he could have guessed. And it was for something he did that was normal. Well, alright, it still involved hunting, but it wasn’t all hunting. It was a lot of mundane stuff, too. And he loved it, even during the hard parts. And he didn’t suck at it. Normally he didn’t suck at cooking, either, but at least he had helped save Sarge from a lean cuisine. “You’re right. This is one thing I know how to fix.”

#wickedswriting #writing #chatzy #roland #sgtrolandhills #taking whisks

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spacecakes20 · 4 years

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Begin Again

Chapter 2: Luna, Second Chances

(Chapter 1)

There were always whispers behind her back. Rather or not they knew she could hear them; they didn’t seem to care. Perhaps they wanted her to hear them. She didn’t mind. At least that’s what she would tell herself.

"I heard,” One of the voices whispered, “Her mother’s friends with the CEO of the company.”

The other one gasped, “Could that be why she got the job so young?”

Luna scoffed. She didn’t recognize either of the gossips. She didn’t really want to. Didn’t even want to look over at them. She wanted to pretend she couldn’t hear them. Wanted to pretend their words didn’t sting. This was exactly why she liked eating lunch outside of the office. Not only was there peace and quiet, but no one knew who she was. Unfortunately, she couldn’t escape the whispers at her desk. The side glances, the sneers. They didn’t think she belonged there. And they were doing a good job making her feel it. The whispers suddenly stopped. She was relieved if only for a second. Quiet around the office didn’t usually lead to good things. Looking up, she realized why everyone was so silent. The boss’s son had entered. Of course, everyone was on their best behavior when one of the executives came around. Everyone was on extra good behavior for the boss’s son.

Charles Windsor, one of the executives at Joja HQ. He wasn’t strict—in fact, he was quite friendly. But no one wanted to risk their jobs, no matter how friendly their superior might have been. In a way, seeing him was a relief for Luna, if it meant only a small second of peace and quiet. He was a tall young man, with broad shoulders. His dirty blond hair was always slicked back in professional due, baby-blue eyes always focused. He didn’t have to open his mouth to command respect. His very presence did that for him. Perhaps he was born that way. Or maybe it was beaten into him over the years.

“Ms. Beverly!” He addressed her with a nod and a smile.

“Mr. Windsor.” Luna greeted back, easily slipping into her professional persona.

“Do me a favor and tell Morris to meet me in my office as soon as possible.”

"Yes of course.” She conjured her best ‘I’m-on-the-clock-and-don't-plan-on-getting-fired-smile she could, “Anything else?”

His professional smile morphed into a genuine grin. It caught her off guard and for a moment she dropped her facade and replaced it with a look of confusion.

“Perhaps…” He lowered his voice so only she could hear, “If you’re not too busy, we could meet up for lunch? It’ll be my treat.”

Luna’s mouth hung open in pure shock, her brain shutting down. She couldn’t form a sentence, mouth opening and closing like a fish. She doesn’t know how long she was like that, but it must have been awhile because Charles was waving his hand in front of her face, his own face graced with a worried frown.

"You don’t have to.” He smiled, but it felt forced compared to his other smiles. Was he… disappointed? “Just say ‘no’ and we’ll pretend this never happened.”

In hindsight, this was a bad idea. A secretary dating her boss. It was never going to end well. But at the time, all she remembered feeling was this warm giddiness. Men never paid her any attention. That was usually for her more out their twin sister, Lola. Guys loved the hard-drinking, flirty party girl. Luna was used to just fading into the background. She was just a second thought. A second choice. It didn’t do well for self-esteem. So of course, when a really cute guy at her job asked her to join him for lunch, she smiled and said, “Yes.”

Luna felt physically ill when she learned there was a Joja Mart in Pelican Town. She felt even more nauseated when she saw Morris in Pierre’s store to advertise some sale. That ping of guilt got worse when everyone seemed to fall for it and left the store. And, as if to add salt to her already festering wound, she felt even worse after hearing Pierre talk about how the Joja Mart had affected his sales. She couldn’t help but feel this was her fault. She decided to buy more seeds than necessary after that. Of course, common sense would tell her none of this was her fault, but she didn’t want to listen to the more rational side of her brain right now.

She left the city to get away from that hell hole they called a business. To see it here in this peaceful small town just felt unnerving. The cold sterile building just looked so out of place against the green and lively backdrop of the valley.

Opening the door on her way out of Pierre’s, she was brought out of her thoughts abruptly when she felt—not heard, felt—a hard thud on the door. Looking down, her face dropped in embarrassment and horror when she realized what happened. She had knocked the door right in the face of—well, she never caught his name. She’d met him at the pier what felt like weeks ago and she was pretty sure he probably didn’t like her. And even if he felt at least indifferent towered her, she was 100% sure he hated her now.

“Oh, my Yoba!” Luna exclaimed, dropping her groceries on the ground before rushing over to the raven-haired man. “I’m so sorry!”

The young man looked stunned, as though he was trying to figure out how he ended up on the ground in the first place.

“Are you alright?” Luna asked with genuine worry. That worry turned to pure panic when she saw a crimson liquid drip from his nose.

“Shit.” She heard him curse under his breath as he brought his hand to his nose and examined the blood on his hand.

“I am so, so sorry!” Luna repeated. She rummaged through her purse. Her eyes lit up when she felt what she was looking for, pulling out a handkerchief. Offering it to him, she averted her gaze, electing to look to the stone covered ground instead.

Wordlessly, he took it, applying it to his nose with a squeeze. “Um…” He cleared his throat. Rather that was from nerves or the blood, she couldn’t tell, “Thanks.”

Luna nodded in response before standing to her feet. She offered her hand to him and he wordlessly took it. Taking a closer look, she realized right away that he was very handsome. She couldn’t get a good look at his face before when she had run into him in the rain. The first thing she noticed was his eyes. They were a very cool gray. They reminded her of storm clouds. She couldn’t recall if she’d ever seen anyone with that eye color before. Everything about his facial features was sharp. Sharp jawline, and a sharp nose. That was currently bleeding. Thanks to her.

After helping him to his feet, Luna began picking up her groceries. The young man shifted from foot to foot, not quite knowing what to do before finally speaking, “Here, lemme help—”

“No, it’s fine!” She cut him off, a bit too loud. She inwardly chastised herself for the outburst. Taking a breath, she said more softly, “You should put some ice on that. It’ll, uh, stop the bleeding faster.”

He frowned, and she couldn't tell if it was from confusion or frustration. Really, she couldn’t blame him either way. Giving him her best smile, she apologized again before taking off with some half-baked excuse. She wanted to run, but she settled on speed walking instead. She wanted to go home and lock herself in until this was all but a distant memory.

He probably thinks I’m a klutzy idiot. She thought to herself. Sure, he’d be right, but she didn’t want him to think that. Not as a first impression anyway.

It wasn’t until she made it to her front porch when she was hit with another embarrassing realization; she still didn’t know his name.

(Chapter 3)

#stardew valley #stardew fanfic #stardew sebastian #stardew valley sebastian

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mego42 · 4 years

Text

1x08 discussion questions

blah blah blah clever intro, most importantly, thank you @pynkhues!! I really appreciate rewatch nights. s3 was my first experience watching live/with people and that was obvs a more, erm, contentious experience so it’s been really nice to get to kind of mulligan that with the rewatch.

ANYHOO onward!

1. What was your favourite scene of the episode? Tell us why!

the spa robbery, I could talk a big game about the montage editing and beth’s dress (which are all worthy points) but at the end of the day? it’s the robes, they just do it for me. they’re so snuggly and they have hoods.

2. Was there any scene that missed the mark for you? And if so, how?

tbh while there was a lot of delightful elements about this ep, the whole thing is largely underwhelming to me and rewatching reminded me why I often forget about most of it.

3. This episode opens with Beth discovering that the money is gone – not just the fake cash that she’s washing for Rio, but the cut of what they’d already washed too. What do you think this tells us about Rio’s mentality and approach as an employer / boss?

maybe if he weren’t such a dick and the kind of boss that breaks into your house to take back your paycheck, beth wouldn’t be so inclined to shoot him.

4. This episode also features the start of a really pivotal arc for Ruby and Sara around crime, and Ruby’s worries about Sara somehow inheriting that part of her. Do you think Ruby was right to react the way she did in this episode? Was there a better way she could’ve handled it?

I mean what else was she gonna do? be cool with it? who is she, darren’s parents? I love the nuance retta and reno bring to that scene, both with their reactions and empathy for why sara did it and also the way stan backs ruby in front of sara to present a united front. It’s just excellent parenting all around imo.

5. What do you think this episode tells us about Annie and Nancy’s relationship prior to the series starting? Do you think Nancy feels threatened by Annie? Or vice versa? How do you think they’ve negotiated their respective places in Greg and Ben’s lives?

honestly the hair oils comment makes me holler bc I feel like that’s nancy’s version of I see you being a dick and I’m going to pretend I don’t to take the wind out of your sails but also you’re dirty and garbage and get off my fancy couch. the way both actresses play it, the conflict feels so lived in I can’t see how it isn’t a long standing thing, but then the way nancy opens up (both in this ep and then in s2 at the baby shower) makes me feel like annie’s been the driving force in them not getting along up to this point.

6. The spa heist! What did you think of it? Good? Bad? Tell us all your thoughts!

I mean it was a terrible idea that rested on being able to unload botox to a 17 boy who sells pot and hallucinogens in a grocery store parking lot. the execution was neat, but any scenario where dean is able to pick up the pieces and save the day is obviously flawed in some fundamental way.

7. In a lot of ways, Annie’s ‘slow boil’ comment to Beth feels like it’s been a long time coming. When do you think Ruby and Annie realised that Beth got something beyond just financial fulfilment from crime? And do you think they know the full extent of it at this point in the episode? Hell, do you think they know the full extent of it in s3?

I think ruby and annie know beth well enough to know she’s getting a happy little zip out of crime-ing no matter what she says about it. the part I think they don’t/may still not realize as of s3 and/or are starting to realize as of s3 is how far and how dark she’ll go

8. Let’s talk about Beth’s sales pitch to / second date with Rio! Do you think it was a good pitch and Rio missed an opportunity? Do you think Rio was genuinely there to hear her out, or was he just entertaining her? And this is the first time he brings up the idea of her being a boss (via, well, her not being one yet). Do you think he sees her as that yet? Or if, again, he’s just entertaining her?

It was a terrible pitch but hysterically depicted. I love christina, she did a note perfect rendition of every single software sales rep I’ve ever encountered. rio was, imo, 1000000000% humoring her on the specifics of the pitch once he realized what she was trying to sell him.

that said, I think the boss encouragement was an organic evolution of how he’s been watching her step up over the past few eps and recognizing her overall potential to think creatively and take charge. the you don’t need it comment, on the other hand, always feels a touch out of place to me

9. How do you think Annie felt about the news Nancy was trying to get pregnant? And do you think she would’ve broken up with Greg if Nancy wasn’t?

I think she felt absolutely wretched about it, though based on later eps (is that cheating?) I think she would’ve tried to give it a shot with greg if that hadn’t been a hurdle. the getting preggo situation was def a significant factor for her, probs at least in part because she is obvs intimately acquainted with the trials and tribulations of single motherhood and isn’t trying to force that upon nancy if she can help it.

10. Mary Pat has two pretty tight scenes in this episode where she has power plays with Ruby and then later Beth. What did you think of these scenes? And how do those exchanges compare with each other?

mary pat runs circles around them in her bumbling, oh shucks me gotcha way and I love it. I feel worse for ruby who’s basically like please oh please just let me live, but beth 100000% strolled into that house trying to pull her we’re just moms in this together schtick but with an alpha twist (shout out to @gild-and-fire‘s which gg character are you quiz you should absolutely take if you haven’t already) and mary pat looked her up and down like do not even try to pretend you don’t wrap a fake bill around your vibrator before you get off with it. classic.

11. Ruby finds out about Eddie’s arrest! We talked a little about Eddie’s loyalty last week, but how do you think the arrest went down between Stan and Eddie?

ooh like did it involve the handcuffs stan brings home to ruby? kinky.

#gg rewatch #gg 1x08 #i should probably have a discussion questions tag but alas i do not #til next week folks #i say like im not going to be here at all hours of the day and night shrieking nonsense between now and then #gg related

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anotheronechicagobog · 4 years

Text

Ava Bekker x reader

Togther written by @anotheronechicagobog

Warning: TRIGGER WARNINGS, attempted murder, arson, being forced out of the closet, fleeing to another country, being rejected entry, corrupt police, fear of the police, compliance for fear or violence, swearing

Hope you like it @sasssystephden

@chimerahh

Belarus was your home, it was where you grew up, and it would always be a part of you. Unfortunately, you couldn’t be a part of it. You didn’t move to Chicago, you fled to Chicago. Being a lesbian was not something that people could ignore, so your only other option was to pretend that you were really just a spinster, it was something that they reacted violently to. You hadn’t even come out to your family, you were outed by your so-called best friend. She’d been invited to your family’s Christmas party, along with half the town, and she announced it to everyone.

It was like a scene from a horror movie, everyone turned to you in slow motion, darkness taking over their eyes. They didn’t even ask you if it was true.

You shook your head, not wanting to relive that memory. You turned back to your computer screen. You’d gotten a scholarship to the University of Dijon and gotten a degree in computer science, it made finding a job in the states much easier. You felt as though your boss, Sergeant Voight, was corrupt. He did a lot of the things the police in your home country did, and while it was clear he made you uncomfortable, no one knew why. You took your job at intelligence, not because you actually wanted to, but because Voight was interested and you thought he’d make you disappear if you said ‘no’. So you were back to living a good portion of your day in fear. The team didn’t understand why you’d never joined them at a bar afterwards and you were too scared to tell them.

You’d met Brian at your grocery store, a family-run Slavic grocery store and restaurant, you ran into each other so many times that you’d started to become friends. He was heartbroken to learn why you moved to the states, so he told you that he’d be your family. You’d been touched, and as a result, your brother-sister bond was forged.

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It had taken a while for Brian to convince you to go to Molly’s because the team went there frequently, but he’d managed it. You put on a nice top, jeans, flats, a jacket, and headed to Molly’s before you could lose your nerve.

When you opened the ornate door you were met with warmth and laughter. “Y/N! Over here!” Brian was behind the bar, but there were women sitting on bar stools near him who waved at you. You sat on the seat in front of him and let out a breath. “Y/N, these are my friends, Sylvie and Emily, they’re the paramedics for 51, April, Maggie, Nat, and Ava, they all work at med. Guys, this is Y/N.”

“Hi, it’s nice to meet all of you.” Your accent was thick, something that all of the women noticed. Brian placed a glass of vodka on the rocks in front of you, which made Maggie raise an eyebrow and say, “are you Russian?”

“Belarussian, actually. I do speak Russian though.”

“Damn, I am not good at pegging accents. I thought that Ava was from the UK and she ended up being from South Africa.”

“I grew up in an area that had been heavily colonized, something that not many people are aware of.” You nodded, grateful that she answered your question without you having to ask. “So, how do you know Otis?” You must have looked as confused as you felt because Sylvie realized her mistake and spoke again. “Sorry, Otis is the nickname we have for Brian around the station. Sometimes I forget that’s not his name.”

“Oh, okay, well, we kept running into each other at the local market that we started talking, it was nice to speak to someone in Russian again.”

“Ah, so should we be seeing you around more?”

“I suppose so?”

“She’s insinuating that we have an emotional and/or sexual relationship.” Brian’s explanation was blunt and something you appreciated. Although you were fluent in English you didn’t understand all of the slang just yet. “Oh. OH.” You turned back to Sylvie and the other women. “Brian is a wonderful man and any woman would be lucky to be with him, but I am a lesbian, so Brian and I will not be in a romantic relationship.”

“Is that why you moved here?” Emily was closest to you and put her hand on your forearm, sympathetic smiles gracing the faces of all the women barring Ava, she had one of remembrance and understanding. “Yes. A woman I used to be friends with told my entire family and town at a party. No one reacted well.” Nat looked like she had a question to ask but Ava cut her off, “that’s terrible, Y/N. I’m sorry that happened. Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“No thank you, I don’t enjoy remembering that night.” Nat leaned back into her seat and bowed her head slightly. You let out a breath and felt grateful that Ava had intervened. The night went by smoothly after that, Nat had pulled you aside later and apologized, knowing that it was obvious she had wanted to ask an invasive question. “I would love to become friends and I’m glad that Ava stopped me from asking that question, I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I should have known not to pry, I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay Nat, you didn’t actually ask anything, and I can see that it was just a slip of judgement and that you will respect my boundaries. I would like to be friends with you as well.”

“Of course, Y/N, I-”

“Y/N? What’re you doing here? I thought you were visiting a friend tonight?” Detective Ruzek made his way towards you with the rest of your team, his tone was surprised and somewhat angry, causing Nat and your new friends around you to bristle. “I am. Brian is one of the owners and he wanted to introduce me to these lovely ladies.” You smiled, hoping to diffuse some of the tension. “What so you just hang out with him every time we’re not working?”

“Usually, yes.” Brian knew how you’d felt about your job, and had admitted to having negative run-ins with Voight in the past. He’d gone as far as introduce you to his Captain, Matt Casey, who’d gone over how he met Voight in the first place. The meeting was meant to ease your worries, but all it did was increase them. You could see your team growing angry, you knew it frustrated them that you didn’t want to get close to them, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do so. Detective Burgess put her hand on his chest to push him back a bit, and then stepped right into your space, and since you were against the bar you couldn’t back up. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“Detective Bur-”

“I’ve told you to call me Kim. We have all told you to call us by our first names except for Voight. So why won’t you? Why do you avoid us? What the fuck is wrong with you?” You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. This is it. They’re going to kill you. Escaping Belarus only bought you another year of life, and you didn’t accomplish anything in that time. Your hands were starting to get clammy, and your breaths were getting shallow. “Back off, Burgess.”

“Stay out of this Otis.”

“No. God, can’t any of you get your heads out of your asses? She thinks you’re going to kill her.” Everyone within earshot sobered immediately. “What?” Ruzek’s face had gone pale and Burgess stepped back. “She’s from a country that was part of the Soviet Union and is still heavily corrupt in law enforcement. She only took the damn job because she thought she’d be killed if she refused!” Everyone turned to you and you couldn’t take it. “Mne nuzhno idti.” (I have to go). You bolted out of Molly’s, ignoring those calling out your name, and that you forgot your jacket.

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You broke out into sobs a few blocks from Molly’s. You startled when someone ran up behind you calling your name. You ripped a knife out from your jeans and turned ready to face whoever it was. It was Ava. “You forgot your jacket.” You didn’t respond, just breathed heavily.”Y/N, let’s get you home, okay?”

“I can’t. They know where I live.”

“How about my apartment, then?”

“... Okay. Thank you.”

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Ava’s apartment was lovely. It was clean, classic, and homey. “Would you like something to drink? Water? Coffee?”

“Some coffee if you don’t mind.” She smiled and walked around the kitchen island to get to the coffee maker. “My mother tried to kill me.” You whipped your head away from some photos she had on the wall. “She invited me to stay at our family’s vacation house for the weekend after I came out, she had glued all of the windows shut, then locked and barricaded all of the doors so that even if I got out of my room, there was no way I’d make it to any kind of exit. She’d left a chair in my room, though, I threw it at the window and jumped out. It hurt like hell. The injuries and the knowledge that the woman I’d looked up to not only hated me so much that she tried to kill me, but that she was praised for it by the police when they found out why she set the fire.” A heavy silence hung over the room, choking you in the knowledge that you weren’t alone.

“My best friend told everyone in my town at my family’s christmas party. I didn’t even get time to deny it, even though it’s true, before my dad came at me with a knife. Everyone surged behind him and they were all grabbing weapons, anything sharp or blunt that they could get their hands on. I barely managed to make it to my room, lock and barricade the door. My parents, along with everyone where I grew up, were poor and so I didn’t have a lot. I threw my stuff in a bag and I climbed out the window. I fell on my ankle, but I just started running. I didn’t stop, I just ran to the next town, where there was a train station, I got on the first train to Minsk. I ran to the Canadian embassy first, because gay marriage was legal there when it wasn’t in the U.S., but I got denied entry. I applied to the U.S. right after and got in. It was so hard, just leaving everyone and everything I love behind... But... I had to do it. The only good thing that came out of being forced ‘out of the closet’ was that I didn’t and don’t have to hide anymore.” Ava nodded, she set down her mug and wrapped her arms around you. You wrapped your arms underneath hers, around her middle, and cried into each others shoulders. Crying over everything you’ve lost, everything you’ve had ripped or burned away from you. Encompassing each other in the knowledge that neither of you are alone.

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Chicago became warmer after meeting Ava. You started dating a couple months later when you’d gone skating and she’d just stopped and stared at you. Her eyes went soft and her lips parted. You skated over to her to see what was wrong. “Ava?”

“Can I kiss you?” It came out in one tangled breath. “Yes. Please yes.” She held your cheeks in her hands, you held her elbows in yours, and leaned in together.

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You woke up to Ava kissing your shoulder. A smile spread across your lips. “Goodmorning, Ava.”

“Morning, love. I was called into work, so I have to go, but I left breakfast on the counter for you.”

“Thank you, I hope you have a good day.” Ava smiled, stroked your cheek softly. A feather-light kiss was placed on your lips before she gave a whispered goodbye. After the front door closed you got out of bed and padded your way to the kitchen. You smiled when you saw a plate of fried sausages and eggs on the kitchen counter. Your heart warmed at the thought of Ava making breakfast for you.

It was the weekend so you didn’t have to work today, so you decided to spend the day baking and cooking since you knew that if Ava had been called in on her day off it was going to be crazy, and that cooking is the last thing she’d want to do. So you got dressed and headed out to the market.

Smiling you walked down the street. The day was cool and brisk, only light power on the ground, but it would snow in the afternoon if the weather forecast was to be believed. You made your way to a South African grocery store to pick up the ingredients for chakalaka, Ava’s favourite dinner. You smirked as you entered, your eyes scanning the store.

The house smelled like warm sugar and spices. In part from the chakalaka and in part from the ginger cookie recipe you got from Nat. You and Ava both really liked it and you wanted to make sure that a wonderful meal was waiting for Ava when she got home.

The door opened just as you finished serving the chakalaka, “Ava? How was your day?”

“Wonderful, just like that smell. Is that chakalaka? Oh my goodness, love, you made all this for me?”

“Yes, I hope that this is a good end to a hard day.”

“A wonderful end. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

“I was thinking, Y/N, you spend so much time here, and most of your stuff is here, so... I just... I think we should move in together.” You smiled and wrapped your arms around her neck. “I would love to move in together.” Your foreheads touched and your lips brushed against each other. “Together.”

“Together.”

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queen-of-the-avengers · 5 years

Text

Complete and Utterly Fucked

Characters: Clint Barton x Stark!Reader, Tony Stark, Jarvis

Word Count: 2,057

Warnings: angst, minor fluff

Summary: There has always been a target over your head since the world knew you were a Stark. You didn’t know just how dangerous it could be when you went on a grocery shopping trip alone and never returned.

Squared Filled: Criminal AU // Locked in a Trunk

Author’s Note: I know you guys have requests and I promise to get to them. I have two bingos I need to finish before the deadline in Aug/Sept and by the rate I am going, I will be done before that so please bear with me. This is for @clintbartonbingo and @badthingshappenbingo respectively and if you have any requests, please send them in! This is unbeta’d and any and all mistakes are all on me.

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

When you heaved the last of your boyfriend’s request into your trunk, you slammed it shut and returned the cart to one of the cart slots that were scattered in the parking lot. Clint and your brother were busy with some Avenger thing, so they had asked you to run to the store since the fridge was low on supplies.

Tony was a very popular man, but you didn’t realize just how popular you were until you went to the store. Everyone knew Tony as Iron Man, as the billionaire who had it all. You were just Tony’s little sister who some might think was an airhead that had a ton of money. While some thought that, others genuinely liked who you were. Your brother has invited you to press conferences, board meetings, Avenger meetings, and social gatherings. Everyone knew who you were because of him. It just didn’t hit you until you went to the store by yourself.

Usually, you thought people crowded around you because your brother was next to you. After all, everyone wanted to meet the boss man himself. Why would anyone want to meet his shy sister that didn’t contribute anything to his company? What should have taken you 30 minutes actually took an hour and a half because all everyone wanted to do was talk to you, take pictures, and have you sign things. It was nice to be noticeable, but you didn't know the dangers of having your name and picture plastered everywhere for anyone to see. Right as you approached your car, your phone rang and you answered it without looking at who it was.

“Hello?”

“Where are you? You should have been back by now,” Clint’s voice said from the other side.

“Tell Tony I’m kicking his ass when I get home because I could not get a moment of peace. Everyone wanted to talk to me and take pictures with me. This is what I get for attending events with my brother,” you grumbled.

“He says he loves you too.”

“Yeah, well, I just packed the car up, so I should be home in 20 minutes. My ice cream is going to fucking melt,” you pouted.

“Hurry back and it won’t,” he joked.

“Yeah, I’ll be home soon,” you said before hanging up. Right as you put your phone in your purse, someone grabbed you from behind. Whoever it was yanked on your hair and placed a rag over your nose and mouth. The first thing your instincts told you was to scream, but the more you inhaled the chemical on the rag, the more your body relaxed. The parking lot was full of cars, so you don’t know why anyone didn’t call for help when or if they saw this happening. As your eyes were closing, you noticed that not a single soul was outside, instead, they were all huddled inside the store as if there was something more interesting than a young woman getting kidnapped.

“Didn’t Y/N say she was going to be here in 20 minutes?” Tony asked.

“Yeah, she did.”

“Jarvis, how long ago did Y/N call?”

“Almost an hour ago, sir.”

“Something is wrong,” Tony said seriously as he got up.

“What if she’s stuck in traffic? Or something happened to the car? Or she stopped somewhere else?” Clint tried to think of reasons why you were late. He didn’t like the thought of something bad happening to you while you were by yourself. Iron Man may be your brother, but you were no Avenger.

“Track her phone, Jarvis. Where is she?”

“She seems to still be at the store. Her phone hasn’t changed locations since she got there.”

“I know my sister better than anyone. She would have called if she knew she was going to be late. Something happened to her. Jarvis, cross reference the news with Y/N Stark,” he ordered as he put on the sweatsuit that turned into his Iron Man suit at the pull of the drawstrings. He placed his glasses that connected to the suit so that he could have Jarvis with him at all times.

“Already on it, sir,” the computer program said.

“Then I’m coming with you. She’s my girlfriend,” Clint declared as he got up.

“Suit up. This might get ugly,” Tony said as he prepared for the worst.

When the car that you were in ran over a pothole, you shot awake only to slam your head against something hard. Reaching up to rub at the spot, you found that your hands were bound behind you with something that felt like zip ties. Your ankles were also bound together with the same material. Your heartbeat increased and your breathing picked up when you realized what had happened before. Someone grabbed you, someone kidnapped you and stuffed you into a car trunk.

“Help!” you tried to scream, but this was the first time you noticed duct tape covering your mouth. Tony and Clint must be going crazy looking for you. When you didn’t show up at home when you said you were going to, you knew they would know that something is up. Now, the only matter is about how long it will take them to find you. Jarvis is a smart computer system, but only he can do so much.

“Don’t bother screaming,” came a voice from the front part of the car. Looking to your left, you realized that the tiny door that separated the trunk and the backseat was open so you could kind of see the driver. There was nothing that you recognized immediately, so hopefully, he would continue to talk and reveal something about himself.

“I know you’re confused, but where you’re going, you won’t have time to be confused. I have a lot of buyers lined up for the elusive Y/N Stark. They were so excited when I told them you were coming. Don’t worry, they’re nice… at first,” he laughed.

Tears sprung to your eyes when you thought about whatever the hell he was talking about. Where was he taking you? What kind of buyers was he talking about? Was he going to sell you like a human trafficking kind of deal? If so, who else have they kidnapped for their games? There was no way for you to get out of the zip ties, and even if you could, there was no way out of the trunk.

You were completely and utterly fucked.

“Oh my God, Tony Stark,” the woman gushed when the billionaire approached her. When he and Clint arrived at the store, they found your car with your purse and its contents scattered on the ground. One of which was your phone which you never went anywhere without. You always said that you loved taking pictures of everything around you because you never knew how long the beauty would last.

“Hi. I can’t help but notice that this cashier line is in direct eyesight to that 2019 cherry red Ferrari,” Tony began.

“Oh, yes,” she smiled once she spotted the car in question.

“Did you happen to see the owner of that car? She’s my sister.”

“Oh, I met her! She’s a very nice lady,” the woman smiled a bit too big.

“Excuse me, sorry, but we really need to know if you saw anything strange. Did she go anywhere?” Clint asked, eager to get this moving.

“No, I didn’t. But, I did see a small black car circle around her car a few times. I saw her put away her bags in her trunk, then the craziest thing happened here in the store that had everyone’s attention, and then when I looked back, she and the black car was gone. I figured she went across the street for a bite.”

“Thank you for your time,” Clint said before pulling Tony outside. They walked to your car before he spoke again. “Whoever took her must have had an accomplice inside to distract everyone.”

“Why do you assume she was taken?”

“Come on, Tony. You’re one of the smartest people I know. You know she was taken.”

“I didn't want to have to say it,” he sighed.

“Why would anyone want to take her?”

“I have a lot of enemies, Barton. I’m not an easy target, but she is. I should have known that before I let her go off on her own,” he sighed heavily once more.

“Hey, don’t blame this on yourself. We don’t know who took her, just that someone did. Come on, we can check security cameras around here to see if anything looks suspicious.”

“Already on it, sir, and I think I may have found something,” Jarvis said through the earpiece.

“I already have the nicest place for you. I think Big Joe would have a lot of fun with you,” the man laughed as he spoke. “You want to know why they call him Big Joe? It ain’t because of his weight.”

You wanted to roll your eyes and vomit at the same time. This man has been driving for quite some time now without taking any turns, so your assumption would be he is driving out of the state and is on one long highway. The ground wasn’t bumpy which meant it was paved, so that ruled out any dirt back roads. You didn’t know how much time had passed, so you wondered what the two most important men in your life were doing right now. There was no use in panicking or wasting your energy, so you thought it be best to lay here silently since that is the only thing you could do.

“All the other girls are pretty, but none of them compare to--shit,” the man cursed, and you looked through the hole to see him pulling the car over. Whoever stopped him, you knew they would have to be important because this man seemed like he didn’t stop for no one.

“You keep it down back there or I’ll kill every last one of those girls,” he threatened. When he brought the lives of the many girls he’s kidnapped, it was your motivation to keep quiet. You didn't want them to suffer for something you did.

“Tony Stark? What are you doing out here?” the man said once he recognized the billionaire, and your eyes widened to think that your brother was less than 10 feet from you. The most antagonizing part was that you couldn’t make a sound in fear for the other girls.

“Sir, there is body heat coming from the trunk of the car. If I may, I believe it to be Y/N,” Jarvis said into the earpiece. Clint stood next to your brother without the slightest clue to what Jarvis was hinting at. Tony pulled the strings of his jacket which activated the suit, and the metal formed to fit his body. As soon as the headpiece snapped on, he lifted his hands and pointed the gauntlets at the man.

“I think you have my little sister back there. Open the trunk, asshole,” he growled. Clint snapped his attention to the man who just sighed. There was no way he was getting out of this one, not when Tony was pointing those things at him. He could play it off, but that might end with his death, so all he did was pop the trunk.

Your eyes widened, and you kicked the top of the trunk to open it wider. When Clint saw what was back there, he rushed over there and looked at your eyes that were filled with fear.

“I got her!” he said as he held you sit up before slowly peeling the tape off you.

“He’s got so many girls, Clint,” you cried, letting the tears that have been building up since you woke up.

“You, my friend, are in big trouble,” Tony said as the man closed his eyes in defeat.

“We’re going to get you out of here,” he said as he pulled out the knife he always carried on his person. He snapped the zip ties on your ankles and wrists before bringing you into his arms.

“He’s got so many of them. We have to help them,” you cried into his chest.

“We will. We will,” he whispered as he soothed down your hair.

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