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herrmannhalsteadproduction · 5 months

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500 Miles (Chapter Sixteen)

Summary: This is Part Nineteen of my series A Herrmann/Halstead Production. It is an AU where Christopher Herrmann's mom had an affair with Pat Halstead resulting in a baby. The series follows this OC character (Rebecca "Bex" Herrmann) as she grows up and gets to know her brothers and the various Chicago teams. It is very much an AU, just to underscore that. It doesn't follow the same timeline and characters will follow different paths.

Click here for the Series Rundown where you can find the links to read all of the previous installments (which I highly recommend you do so that this one makes sense.)

Rating: Teen and Up

Relationships: Christopher Herrmann & Original Female Character, Jay Halstead & Original Female Character, Will Halstead & Original Female Character, Jay Halstead & Will Halstead, Greg 'Mouse' Gerwitz/Original Female Character, Will Halstead/Connor Rhodes, Assorted OC Couples

Warnings: THIS IS IT! THIS IS THE CHAPTER! IT'S HAPPENING! BRACE YOURSELVES FOR THE MOST FLUFF TO EVER FLOOF! (also minor character injury, but he's fine, seriously.)

A/N: To underscore my previous note, this is an alternate universe so things have unfolded differently. This will not follow the canon arcs exactly by any means. But I hope you'll still enjoy it!

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Bex

The housewarming party had gone off without a hitch, but Bex and Emery had been so tired, they’d basically passed out once everyone left.

Sunday morning was spent finishing clean up—not that there was too much to do since Devon, Sam, Isaac, Kira, and Malia had stuck around to help tidy before heading home the night before.

Then the two of them got ready for the mini-housewarming party starting at noon.

Noon-ish.

It was hard arriving anywhere on time when you were herding four kids while you did it. Still, Chris and Cindy showed up an impressive mere fifteen minutes late.

“Oh, wow, Emery,” Cindy exclaimed after they’d all piled inside and were starting their tour. “I love what you’ve done with the place. Cozy, but not closed in, you know?”

“Thank you.” Emery beamed at her. “I had a lot of help though and I could use a little more.” She steered the whole gang into the kitchen and gestured at her fridge. “No one has given me anything to put on my fridge. Can you believe that?”

On cue, Bex dug out the kid-friendly art supplies from where they’d stashed them yesterday and held them up. “Who’s gonna help us fix it?”

Even Lee Henry, who was more teenagery than not lately, volunteered to help. Bex got them all organized around the coffee table while Chris and Cindy stayed in the kitchen with Emery to finish the lunch preparations.

Bex knew they were wanting to check in with Em to see how she was doing with everything and she was happy to give them the space to do that. Emery having more parental figures in her life was definitely helping her progress. Donna and Trudy had kept in touch after their girls’ night—to the point that Emery had a standing lunch date with both of them. Each one was neatly marked down on the kitchen calendar. With a little smile-y face.

It had taken awhile, but Emery was finally embracing having a whole gang behind her.

“Alright,” Bex said, crouching down beside Annabelle and Max. “What are we working on here? Is that a dragon? Nice.”

By the time lunch was on the table, they had a full fridge’s worth of masterpieces ready to go. Emery ooh’d and ahh’d over each one, letting the kids pick out their own magnets to hang them with before they sat down.

“I want to get my own house, just like Emery’s,” Annabelle declared through a mouthful of grilled cheese.

“That sounds like a great idea,” Chris said. “When you’re all grown up.”

Annabelle nodded. “When I’m ten,” she said decisively.

Bex pressed her lips together, trying to hold back her laugh at the look on Chris’s face. Annabelle caught it too and reached over to pat his hand.

“Don’t worry, Daddy,” she said. “You can come visit me.”

“Thanks, sweetie,” Chris choked out as Cindy patted him from the other side.

“Can I come visit too?” Bex asked her.

“Oh, yes, Auntie Bex,” Annabelle said. “…if you bring Kol.”

“Of course,” Bex agreed. Who was she to argue with priorities like that?

***

Will

Will and Connor had been home for about fifteen minutes when Bex and Emery came bursting through the door, arms full of bags.

“Hey!” Bex grinned as she swooped around them to the kitchen. “We brought stuff for dinner!”

“Tired of the new place already, Em?” Will teased.

“For your information, I was kidnapped,” she shot back as she followed Bex, laughing at the outraged squawk that got.

Bex poked her head back in the living room. “Excuse me for thinking it would be nice to cap off the weekend by having dinner together.”

“I think it sounds great, Bex,” Connor called out to her. She blew him a kiss and returned to the kitchen.

Will turned to his boyfriend. “You are such a suck up,” he whispered.

“Might be, but you love me,” Connor murmured back, waggling his eyebrows at Will.

“This is gonna be a thing now, isn’t it?” Will sighed. Not that he was in any way, shape, or form annoyed by it. A smile spread across his face as he leaned in for a kiss—

“Get your butts in here,” Bex yelled. “This dinner won’t cook itself!”

Will groaned and Connor laughed, giving him a quick peck. “C’mon,” he said, grabbing Will’s hand and hauling him toward the kitchen. “Our ass-isstance is required.”

“Ooooh, we have to break up,” Will groaned again. “That was terrible. Ugh. The worst.”

Bex and Emery overheard the last bit and made Connor say it again which started up a flurry of truly horrific puns that lasted until dinner was ready.

Emery and Connor stuck around for a movie afterward and Will had to admit that it was a nice way to cap off the weekend. He knew Bex had been apprehensive about all of the changes their family had been going through, but—

It looked like they were navigating their new normal just fine.

He and Bex waited at the door while Connor and Emery got their things together. After giving Emery a hug, he gave Connor a kiss. “Love you,” he whispered in his ear and Connor whispered it back. His stomach did a little flip every time he heard it. Will hoped that never stopped.

“See you at the coffee cart in the morning?” he asked as they drew apart and Connor nodded, giving him one last kiss before he and Emery headed out. Will locked the door behind them and turned to see Bex staring at him with wide eyes.

“What?”

“Will,” she said in a tone that seemed to indicate he should understand exactly what she meant by just saying his name.

“What?” he repeated. “Why are you looking at me like—” Oh. Maybe she—did she hear them?

“Will.”

Yeah, she definitely did. And that—that was okay. That was more than okay because he and Connor loved each other and he wasn’t scared or ashamed or trying to hide anything because it was all good. So good.

“Be-ex,” he sang back at her, grinning.

Then she screamed and jumped on him. “I’m so happy for you!” she yelled, nearly strangling him with her arms around his neck. “Tell me everything! Right now!”

He staggered over to the couch and dumped her on it, taking a breath. “Okay, fine.” Bex cheered as Will plopped down beside her, cheeks already hurting from how big his smile had become. “I’ll start at the beginning…”

***

Connor

Connor stepped into the elevator and pressed the button, avoiding Emery’s pointed stare as she followed behind him. He could still see her incredibly wide grin out of the corner of his eye though. It was kind of hard to miss.

“So,” Emery said slowly, drawing the word out to its full potential. “You and Will have a good night last night? Anything fun or interesting happen?”

He turned, taking in the gleeful look on her face. “It was nice,” he said. “A totally fine and normal night.”

The glee instantly dissolved into a pout as she grabbed his arm. “Connor, come on,” she begged. “Please? Who said it first? How did it happen? Details! Are you honestly not dying to talk about it?”

Connor lasted about fifteen seconds of pretending he wasn’t dying to talk about it when the doors to the elevator opened. “I said it first,” he blurted out before escaping into the lobby.

Emery squealed, chasing after him. “AND? Then what?” She looped her arm through his as they headed for the parking lot.

“Okay, fine,” Connor said before waving a stern finger at her. “But this stays between us.”

She crossed her heart enthusiastically. “I will be a freakin’ vault.”

Yeah, there was no way this wasn’t getting back to Bex, but Connor had a feeling Will was getting the same treatment at that very moment. “So,” he began, bumping shoulders with her while they walked. “We were getting ready for bed and Will was talking about what a great night it was…”

***

Bex

Bex yawned as she headed into Molly’s, wiping at the sleep out of her eyes. She’d been up late texting with Emery and comparing notes on the big Will and Connor ‘I love you’ story. It was obviously time well spent—no regrets—she was just going to need some serious caffeine to get through the day. She had no regrets about volunteering to help out Chris either, but…

Inventory was always so mind-numbingly boring.

“It’s too hot to be stuck in here doing this.” Otis arrived shortly after her, grumbling as he came through the door. “We should have minions for this sort of thing.”

“I mean—” Bex shrugged “—I think technically I am one of the minions.”

“Who’s ready to count stuff?” Shay came bursting in with a tray of iced coffees and a gigantic grin. Bex was already making grabby hands for one of the cups. Shay handed them out and then hopped up on a stool. “No one’s going to have as much fun as we are today.”

Otis peered at her over the top of his cup. “Why does that sound like a threat?”

***

Jay

“Gonna be a good day,” Ruzek declared as he strapped on his vest. “I can feel it.” He reached out a fist to Atwater and they did some sort of intricate bump-shake combination.

“Be even better if it wasn’t so hot,” Burgess groaned, pulling her hair up into a ponytail.

Ruzek snapped his fingers and pointed at her, eyes going wide. “We should get ice cream when this is done.”

Jay ignored the rest of their discussion—a heated debate over where they’d go for ice cream—and focused on getting his own gear on, not wanting to get distracted from the job ahead.

They’d been honing in on a group that was using clubs to test out a deadly new party drug. Yesterday, a solid tip came in from one of Olinsky’s CIs and today they were hitting the suspected base of the operations. Hopefully to shut the whole thing down.

“Hey.”

Jay looked up to see Upton standing before him, ready to go.

“You good?” she asked, tucking her hands into the top of her own vest as she watched him finish up his checks.

“Just about,” he said and she grinned.

“Good,” she said. “Hurry up. Word is we’re getting ice cream after this.”

***

Shay

Shay had a plan: Play it casual, keep the conversation going, and then slide a Mouse question in there, real smooth-like.

However.

They got ten minutes into working through the supply room with Otis griping about how hot it was the whole time and Shay found herself blurting out, “Bex! How are things going with Mouse?”

So. Not as smooth as she’d hoped, but at least it was a change of subject.

After a second of shocked silence, a tiny smile flitted across Bex’s face and Shay did an internal fist pump. That had to mean good news.

“Um, they’re—things are going great,” Bex said. “We’re still taking it slow, but I think we’re finally getting on the same page about things, important things, and—”

Otis groaned, banging his forehead on the shelf. “Please,” he said. “No relationships talk. Seriously.” He spun around to lean against the shelves and sighed. “I can’t deal with a full day of hearing about how amazing things are with you and Julie—” he pointed at Shay “—or how the unending saga of the Mouse and Bex romance is going—” he pointed at Bex “because while I am incredibly happy for both of you, I am also so incredibly, painfully single and I can’t. I can’t do it! I don’t need another layer of sadness added to this day. Inventory is bad enough.”

Shay exchanged a glance with Bex and they both stepped toward him, arms outstretched. “Aw, Otis—”

“No!” He raised his hands to fend them off. “No hugging either! It’s too hot for that too!”

“First of all, I turned the air conditioner on so it’s going to be fine in here soon enough,” Bex said. “Second of all, I think maybe we do need some relationship talk time, but focused on this whole stressful…tangle you’ve got yourself in.”

Shay had to agree. Dude was pent up.

He tried to argue, but Otis was no match for the combined persuasive powers of Bex and Shay. Soon enough, they were sitting in a loose circle on the floor of the supply room, sipping at their drinks as Otis detailed his romantic woes.

It was a lot of woe.

“Online dating got me nowhere,” he was saying. “And meeting people in person is hard with our schedules. Plus, I don’t think I make the best first impression, you know?” He frowned down at his cup. “No one sticks around long enough to get to know me.”

“They’re the ones missing out,” Bex said. She reached out to pat his knee and he snorted. “What? They are!”

“No, it’s not that,” he said, laughing a bit as he shook his head. “I, uh, there was the tiniest of moments awhile back when I was thinking about asking you out. When it looked like maybe things weren’t going to work out with you and Mouse.”

Hunh. Interesting. It would have been super weird, but Shay could almost see it? Bex seemed like she was trying to wrap her brain around it as well.

Otis looked up and saw her face, then started tripping over his words trying to explain it better. “Only because we actually know each other, you know? And we get along, right? We have a lot of the same interests and sense of humour and we already hang out with the same people.” He scrunched up his nose. “But then I thought about it more and realized it would be totally weird. Like, beyond weird. It was more of a last resort kind of idea than anything else? I rejected it pretty quickly—”

“Okay!” Bex cut him off, kicking at his foot. “I don’t need an extensive list of reasons as to why asking me out would have been a horrible idea. I’m gonna choose not to be offended by that because you’re right. Our sibling energy is way too strong.” She blew out a breath. “You must have really been grasping at straws to even consider it.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Otis exclaimed. He slumped back. “Ugh. Relationship talk ban back on. This is making it worse.”

“No, no, no!” Shay scooted closer, ignoring the grunginess of the floor. “Listen. You are a great guy, Otis. You’re handsome, objectively speaking, you’re smart—”

“You’re funny,” Bex added. “And fun which are two different and important things. Plus, you’re a cool firefighter—”

“And a part owner of Chicago’s best bar,” Shay said, elbowing him until he cracked a little smile. “You’ve got a lot going for you.”

“And it’s not getting me anywhere,” Otis said, bringing them full circle. “I wish I could be like Severide or—”

“Ah!” Bex held up a finger. “That’s your problem, right there. Why are you trying to be like someone else? We literally just listed all of the reasons you’re awesome—all of the things that make you you. The right person is going to come along at the right time and I don’t think you should be trying to change yourself in the meantime.”

“Although,” Shay began and the two of them turned to look at her. “We could take some time to workshop your game a little bit—”

Otis instantly bristled. “My game is great, what are you talking about—”

Shay threw her hands up. “You just said—”

“I know!” Otis scowled at her. He crossed his arms and hunched in on himself, glaring at the two of the them before deflating. “Okay. Fine. What do you suggest?”

“Like I said, workshopping.” Shay snapped a pair of finger guns at him. “You’ll practice flirting with us—” She ignored his groan. “—and we’ll see if there’s any little things we can do to improve your approach.”

“Fine,” Otis grumbled, getting to his feet.

Shay exchanged a grin with Bex as they got up as well. She knew today was going to be fun.

***

Mouse

Mouse was loading up the last of the gear in the van when Burgess came over. She and Olinsky were going to be riding in it with him which seemed to be the usual set up on OPs lately. He didn’t mind. Olinsky mostly kept to himself and Burgess was nice enough.

Even if she asked a lot of questions.

He could tell one was brewing by the way she was hovering and handing him things to load into the van.

“Hey, so,” she finally said, clearing her throat. “You and Bex were pretty smiley at Emery’s housewarming party. Are things…going okay with her? Now?”

Everyone on the team had been giving him lots of space lately—Mouse suspected Jay was running interference—but someone was bound to crack sooner rather than later and he didn’t mind that it was Kim. She’d been offering him a lot of quiet support all along.

He wasn’t ready to talk about it in detail though. Not when he was still figuring out those details with Bex and as much as they were in a better place, they weren’t…solidified yet.

“Yeah,” Mouse said, locking in the last of the gear. “It’s, uh, things are good. Better.” He flashed her a small smile and hoped she’d be satisfied enough by that.

“That’s great, Mouse.” Kim grinned at him, bobbing her head in a little nod. “I’m glad to hear it.” She pulled the van keys out of her pocket and twirled them on her finger before heading for the driver’s seat.

Mouse chuckled to himself and closed the side door. Then he turned around only to be nearly nose to nose with Olinsky. Mouse hadn’t even heard him walk up which was as disconcerting as it was annoying. Guy needed a bell.

“You know,” Olinsky said in that soft, mild tone he had. “I try to stay out of everyone’s personal lives.” He sighed. “But everyone keeps talking about them so I still hear things.”

“Uh…” Mouse froze, not quite sure where he was going with this. Was he supposed to apologize? It wasn’t like Mouse was the one who kept bringing this stuff up at work. He had a hard enough time talking about it with Bex.

Or maybe Olinsky was trying to work his way around to offering some advice? It felt like everyone else Mouse knew had put their two cents in at this point so why not Olinsky?

From what Mouse knew of the man, the conversation could go either way.

“So, you’re saying…” Mouse prompted.

“I’m saying I wish I heard less.” Olinsky stuck a toothpick into his mouth and stared off into the distance. A haunted look passed over his face. “So much less.”

Mouse opened his mouth to apologize when Olinsky clapped a hand on his shoulder, nearly sending him into the van. “Be good to Mini-Halstead.” Then he wandered to the front of the van. “Burgess!” Olinsky called out. “Gimme those keys.”

This day was shaping up to be weird as hell. Mouse shook his head, accepting a fist-bump from Jay when he passed by. Voight called for everyone’s attention at that point and announced they were moving out.

Mouse scrambled into the van as Olinsky started it up.

At least the OP would distract people from asking him any more questions.

***

Bex

“All I’m saying is that there’s making meaningful eye contact during a conversation and then there’s not blinking at all,” Bex said as she and Otis hauled bags of trash out to the dumpster. “It’s an entirely different vibe.”

The workshopping had been an enlightening experience. Otis wasn’t bad at flirting, not really, but he was a bit intense with his efforts.

“I was trying to show I was listening,” Otis said morosely. He chucked his bags in, waiting for Bex to do the same before closing the lid.

“I think what we need to do is find ways to help you relax more,” Bex said. He’d gotten all tense even pretend flirting with her and Shay. “And I had an idea…”

“I’m almost afraid to ask.” Otis’s eyebrows winged up as they headed back inside.

“What do you think about me asking around my art school friends and seeing if anyone knows someone who would be a good fit?” A more personalized search from a new pool of candidates might be helpful.

Otis shrugged as he thought it over. “I’ve liked all of your friends that I’ve met,” he said. “I’d be open to it, I think? I wouldn’t want to dive into a blind date—Shay, is that my phone? What are you doing?” He ran into the kitchen where Shay was sitting on the counter, scrolling through his phone.

“Mine is acting up and we need some tunes,” she said, holding it out of his reach as he grabbed for it.

“How did you even get it unlocked?” Otis poked at her and managed to find a ticklish enough spot to snatch his phone back.

“Easy. I got the passcode on the first try.” She snorted and leaned over to whisper at Bex. “It’s the year of the first Star Wars movie.”

“Well, not anymore, it isn’t,” Otis grumbled as he typed away furiously.

“Let me—let me see it again,” Shay said, trying to reach over his shoulder. “I was just getting to the good stuff.”

Otis fended her off one-handed and finished resetting his code.

Now that it was out there though, Bex needed to know. “What was the good stuff?”

Shay’s eyes lit up. “Oh, there was—”

Leaping over to the counter, Otis covered her mouth with his hand, shushing her. “Stop. Come on. No, Shay!”

She’d already wiggled out of his grasp and managed to steal his phone again, hopping off the counter and joining Bex. “He has a playlist on here called Happy Time Songs.”

“Hunh.” Bex looked between the phone and Otis. “I don’t know if we should know what’s on that? That feels kind of…invasive? I mean—”

“Oh, my god!” Otis exclaimed, face going bright red. “It’s not that kind of playlist, Bex!”

“I wasn’t gonna judge!” Bex held her hands up, trying not to laugh as Otis thunked his head down on the counter.

He kept his head down as he held out a hand for his phone. “Give it.”

Shay pouted, but gave it back to him. Otis stood up enough to lean his elbows on the counter and then he unlocked his phone, setting it down for them to see the screen.

Sure enough, there was the Happy Time Songs playlist. Bex steeled herself as she took a peek.

“Hey, these are all fun songs!”

Otis rolled his eyes. “Yes, because it’s my songs for when I want a little pick-me-up. When I want to sing along in the car and cheer myself up or whatever. Not what you gutterbrains were thinking.”

Bex tuned out the sniping he and Shay were doing since there was no actual heat behind it and scrolled through Otis’s list. An idea began to form.

“We’re in not bad shape for the inventory, right?”

Shay and Otis stopped their bickering and turned to her. “Yeah,” Otis said slowly. Suspiciously. “Why?”

She pointed at one of the songs. “Want to do something fun for Molly’s socials?”

***

Will

Will flopped down next to Connor on the couch in the lounge. The day had been their usual amount of busy and this was the first chance they’d had to take a breather. Connor shuffled, letting Will sink into his side as he scrolled through notifications on his phone.

Just as he was getting comfortable, Will was jostled by the vibrations of Connor laughing at something. “What?” He nosed his way up Connor’s arm to try and see the screen.

“Bex, Shay, and Otis made a little video for Molly’s Instagram account,” Connor said. He tilted the phone toward Will and turned up the sound.

Carly Rae Jepsen came blasting out of the speaker, singing about how much she really, really, really, really, really, really liked him. Bex, Shay, and Otis were doing a—he wasn’t sure if he could call it choreographed, but it was something definitely dance-like. They were bopping around Molly’s and clearly having way too much fun.

Will snorted. “Inventory’s going well.”

“Managing inventory and promotion,” Connor whistled. “Bex is a girl of many talents.”

“Very true.” Will nudged him. “Play it again.”

Shay’s face when she almost fell off the bar was worth seeing a second time.

***

Hailey

Stakeouts were not Hailey’s favourite part of the job. They were necessary, obviously, but she’d always rather be out in the thick of things. Taking action. There was no action yet though, so she just had to be patient.

They’d managed to get eyes inside the building thanks to Mouse and confirmed this was the place the gang was operating out of. But the ringleader, Arnaldo Jacobs, wasn’t there yet. The CI said he would be. Voight and Olinsky had faith in their intel so they were stuck waiting.

Her phone beeped and Hailey pulled it out to check the notification. And laughed.

“What?” Jay glanced over at her before returning his eyes to the building.

“Your sister shared some kind of new promo video for Molly’s.” Hailey showed him the preview image and Jay barked out a laugh.

“Okay, we’re definitely watching that later,” he said. Then he did a double take at the screen and frowned. “You and Bex are Instagram friends?”

“Yeah,” Hailey said, putting her phone away. “Why? You got a problem with that?”

“No,” Jay said. “As long as Bex didn’t strong arm you into friending her.” He side-eyed Hailey. “Did you even have an Instagram account before or did she sign you up?”

Hailey laughed, shaking her head. “She did neither of those things,” Hailey said. “She sent me a friend request though and that was pretty impressive because my account isn’t even under my name.” She’d tried asking her how she found it and Bex’s only answer was that she’d learned enough from hanging out with Jay and the Intelligence crew over the years that she was basically a detective.

Hailey was kind of buying it.

“She posts fun stuff,” Hailey continued. “It’s entertaining.” Bex had a level of playful energy that Hailey hadn’t had in her life for…a long time now. Their friendship didn’t make a lot of sense on paper, but Hailey was enjoying it. She hadn’t realized how much brightness she’d been missing in her life until she got pulled into surprise parties and after-training pizza and game nights.

And getting to know Bex was giving her an unexpected amount of insight into her new partner. Jay Halstead kept surprising her with each new layer she discovered—including ‘gigantic marshmallow of a big brother.’

Voight’s voice popped up over the radio. “Jacobs entering south side door. Take up positions.”

Hailey nodded at Jay and they exited the truck in one fluid motion.

***

Bex

“Bex!” Otis shoved his phone in her face. “Seriously?”

She pulled back a bit so she could actually see what was on the screen. Oh. Right. She’d shared their Molly’s video on her own profile and tagged Otis in it. With a little extra message.

“P.S. Ladies, this handsome man is single, believe it or not,” Otis read the caption out loud. “When he’s not fighting fires, you can find him over at Molly’s. Come say hi!” He lowered the phone and gave her a baleful look.

…maybe she should have asked before she did that.

“I thought it would be a fun little boost! If someone shows up, it’ll be a chance to keep workshopping! Flirt in a comfortable environment and all that.” She started hunting around for her own phone. “Do you want me to untag you?”

Otis sighed. “No,” he finally said. “But if anyone murders me, it’s on you!”

“I’ll vet them all before they get to you,” Bex promised.

“Vet them ‘all’, she says.” Otis rolled his eyes. “Like there’s going to be a crowd.”

Considering the fact that Beau had already shared it to his account, there might be. But Bex wasn’t going to share that little tidbit with Otis just yet.

“Inventory is officially done!” Shay declared as she emerged from the supply room. “Anything else need doing?”

“We might as well take care of the monthly health and safety checklist while we’re here,” Otis said, grabbing a folder from behind the bar. “I’ll do the fire extinguishers if you guys can check the emergency lights.”

“On it.” Bex saluted him.

Otis walked off to start in the kitchen only to return immediately. "So, I can't check the fire extinguisher right now,” he said. “Because there is a...squirrel. In the kitchen. Squirrel in the kitchen. Yup."

“Wait, what?” Shay rushed over to peek through the door with Bex hot on her heels. Sure enough there was a squirrel. Just hanging out on the counter.

“Uh-oh,” Shay whispered. “Make that two squirrels.”

“How did that even happen?” Otis squeezed in to peer over their shoulders. “Where did they get in?”

Bex looked around as much as she could from her position and her heart sank when she saw it. The back door was open a crack. “Look.” She pointed it out to the others. “We must not have closed it properly when we came in from taking out the trash.”

“Because someone was messing around with my phone,” Otis hissed.

“Why are we wasting time with blame when what we need is a solution,” Shay shot back.

The three of them retreated to the bar to regroup. Obviously, they couldn’t call anyone to help with this. They’d never hear the end of it.

“We need to get them out on our own,” Bex said and the other two nodded seriously.

Otis tapped the Health and Safety folder. “Only if we take the proper precautions.”

Five minutes later, decked out in aprons and hand towels from the supply room and armed with serving trays, they stood in front of the door to the kitchen.

“Ready?” Bex asked them. Otis rolled his neck and Shay blew out a breath, doing a little boxer shuffle before nodding. “Okay,” Bex said, raising her trays. “Prepare to shoo.”

***

Jay

The raid had gone off without a hitch. They got the supply. They got the crew.

They got Jacobs.

But they might have the opportunity to get even more.

Mouse had managed to get into the guy’s phone—turning his nose up at the poor security the whole time—and it was a freaking goldmine.

They’d suspected that Jacobs was working under the larger umbrella of the Righetti family and the texts on his phone confirmed it. In fact, he had a meet scheduled with Frank Righetti an hour from now. If they played their cards right, they could cast a much wider net with this case than they originally thought.

Voight was already on his phone chasing down a warrant while the rest of them started strategizing entry points for the new location.

It was a good day to aim high.

***

Otis

The squirrels were out.

The kitchen was a mess.

But the three of them were still alive and that was what mattered.

“I think one of them growled at me,” Shay said, voice dazed as she sat on the floor, slumped against the fridge. “Can squirrels growl?”

“I don’t think they were squirrels,” Bex said from her spot under the table. “I think they were demons.”

It had been a battle and a half. Otis had made some noises that he’d really rather forget. He grabbed the counter and pulled himself up off of the floor. “The most important thing,” he said, making eye contact with the other two. “Is that we never speak of this incident ever again.”

“Agreed,” Shay muttered and Bex lifted her arm for a truly pathetic thumb’s up.

He did a quick sweep of the kitchen and winced. It was kind of a disaster. “Okay.” Otis clapped his hands together. “I vote for some medicinal pizza before we tackle cleaning this up.”

“Oooh, yes, please.” Shay made grabby hands at him and he stumbled over to help her up.

“You know, Otis,” Bex said as she crawled out from under the table. “You keep making genius suggestions like that and I might skip straight to marrying you.”

“Always good to know the way to your heart, Bex,” he said, lending her a hand as well.

She leaned against him for a minute before patting his chest. “We need cheesy bread too.”

***

Mouse

The warrant came through just in time and they managed to snap up not only Righetti, but five of his inner circle as well. The six of them were currently being transported back to 21.

Mouse had the van repacked and they were returning to the precinct as well. Burgess and Olinsky were up front again while Mouse tinkered away in the back. Voight was in his car up ahead with Jay, Hailey, Ruzek, and Atwater bringing up the rear.

A solid day’s work all in all.

Burgess and Olinsky were talking through next steps while they were stopped at an intersection. Mouse was only halfway listening as he fiddled with one of their cameras. The van lurched forward—with Olinsky muttering about how they needed to get the fuel pump looked at—and then Kim gasped.

And then—

A screaming clash of metal on metal.

***

Bex

Bex was sitting at the bar, eating her pizza, when a shiver ran down her spine.

Weird.

Her stomach did a slow flip and her hand itched toward her phone. She gave in, picking it up to check for messages, but there were none. Which made sense. Everyone was at work or wrangling kids. If there was a problem, they’d let her know.

Right?

Right.

She shivered again.

Probably just needed to turn down the air conditioner.

***

Jay

“Jay!” Hailey interrupted their conversation to point through the window at something on their left. He followed her finger to see an ice cream truck coming down the road, driving erratically.

He laid on the horn, but it was too late.

Swerving the truck to the side, he hit the brakes which kept them out of the line of collision, but did nothing for the van. He watched in horror as the ice cream truck slammed into the side of the van, making it spin and rock hard on its wheels.

The point of impact had been near the back. Right where Mouse was usually stationed.

Jay scrambled out of his truck, hitting the ground running. He darted around Ruzek’s jeep which had skidded to a stop beside them. He could hear the other three coming up behind him, but they could deal with triage. He was focused on one thing.

“Mouse!”

***

Mouse

Mouse groaned. Through the ringing in his ears, he could hear Kim and Al calling out his name, but all he could manage was another groan.

What the—

Oh. Something hit the van.

His brain started to clear a bit as he began to take stock. He’d been thrown out of his seat by the force of the crash, but nothing felt broken. Bruised as hell, but not broken.

“I’m okay,” he called back to the others when they yelled his name again. “You?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Kim said. “We’re—”

“Mouse!” a familiar voice kept shouting his name, drowning out whatever she was about to say and then the side door was wrenched open. Luckily, the hit had been on the other side and that door could still open.

Jay stood there, white-face and slumping in relief at the sight of Mouse blinking up at him from the floor of the van.

“Hey, Jay.” Mouse waved at him. “Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

“Tell that to your bleeding head wound,” he said, leaning in to peer closely at him.

Jay made him stay put, checking him over for other injuries—apparently, he’d cut his arm as well—and forcibly stopping him from getting up until the ambos got there.

He kept relaying updates to Mouse as he got them though which was considerate enough. Turned out the driver of the ice cream truck had suffered a heart attack and passed out behind the wheel. Kevin and Hailey were helping him while Adam and Jay checked on Mouse, Kim, and Al.

Voight had seen the crash happen in his rear view and turned back around. He was busy directing officers to control the scene and shouting into his radio demanding to know when the ambos were arriving.

Multiple ambulances seemed a bit overkill to Mouse. Obviously, the truck driver needed one, but Kim and Al said they were fine. Mouse was a bit bloody, but he’d had worse. Slap a bandage on him and he’d be fine.

Jay and Voight disagreed with him so Mouse was keeping his mouth shut until the paramedics got there. They’d agree with him.

***

Two minutes later.

***

Mouse

The paramedics did not agree with him. Kim and Al had been given the all clear, but Mouse had to go to Med for stitches. Jay was laughing at him for pouting when Adam sidled up to them.

“Hey,” he whispered. “What do you think the odds are of getting free ice cream out of this?”

***

Bex

After scarfing down their pizza, the three of them got their second wind and finished cleaning up the kitchen before heading home. Bex had a shower and a little nap since she hadn’t bothered swapping out for her evening shift at Molly’s.

Shay and Otis were planning to swing by as well. The bar was basically the centre of everyone’s social life. Bex wondered for about half a second if they should be branching out more before she remembered that they were forcing her into an outdoor game night later that week.

That was a big enough branch for now.

She checked her phone as she was getting changed, but there were no answers from Jay or Mouse to her texts. They must still be in the middle of things.

Bex sent a follow up message saying they should stop by Molly’s when they were done and left it at that.

…but if she didn’t hear from them by eight, she reserved the right to hunt them down.

***

Jay

They’d been at the hospital for a couple of hours now because the ED was so swamped, Mouse kept getting bumped. He’d tried to tell Jay a few times that he could go, but Jay would just tell him to shup up and then go get them some more snacks.

Including ice cream because Jay was always a little shit at heart.

Jay might have also pulled up the Molly’s video that Bex had made with Otis and Shay to entertain them while they waited. It definitely hadn’t gotten old yet. They were also getting regular updates from the team on how processing the gang was going.

Finally, they were called back and Will met them in one of the rooms, apologizing for the hold up. He checked Mouse over quickly. The good news was that Mouse didn’t have a concussion and he was mostly only bruised, but he did need stitches for the cut on his head.

Jay stuck around while Will got to work. Today could have gone in a very different direction and he wasn’t ready to let Mouse out of his sight just yet.

He’d also had a lot of time to think while they were stuck in the waiting room. As much as he’d been trying to stay out of Mouse and Bex’s business lately, there’d been something brewing in him for the last couple of hours and Jay had to get it off his chest.

To at least know that he’d said it. Even if Mouse did nothing with it.

Maybe it was years of listening to Bex rubbing off on him, but this crash felt like a sign and Jay was going to take advantage of the fact that Mouse couldn’t run away to try and make him see it.

He leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Pretty sure the universe was trying to give you a kick in the ass today.”

“Hm?” Mouse quirked an eyebrow at him and Will tsked.

“Don’t move.”

Jay scooched his chair closer so Mouse didn’t have to turn to see him. “I’m saying things could have gone so much worse. You could’ve died without ever giving it a real chance with Bex.”

Will shot him a glare when Mouse made a wounded noise, but Jay kept going. He and his gut were back on track and he knew he had to say this.

“I know you’re worried about messing things up—”

“With good reason,” Mouse muttered.

“But think about it this way,” Jay countered. “You already have. Multiple times!”

“Jay!” Will’s head whipped around to give him an incredulous stare. “What the hell, man?”

“I’m going somewhere with this, I promise.” Jay waved him off and focused on Mouse. “You’ve already had things go sideways with Bex more than once now,” he said. “And you both worked through it to come out the other side better every time.” Jay was pretty sure their relationship was going to be Cindy and Chris levels of bulletproof at this rate.

“That’s not actually a bad point,” Will said, nodding as he focused on his stitching.

“If it was anyone else, maybe they would have walked away. A while ago. But this is Bex,” Jay said. “She’s special. She sees through the fuck ups and cares enough to take the time to work it out. It’s her Herrmann-ness. Always comes through.”

Mouse and Will both chuckled quietly at that.

“I’m not trying to brush off your worries,” Jay said. “But you guys have proven that you can survive the shit and today proved that the shit can come from any corner.” He scrubbed a hand down his face, shaking his head. “You almost got pancaked by a friggin’ ice cream truck. An ice cream truck, dude. You could have died and left nothing but a pile of broken bones and regrets. Think about that for a second.”

He tried to leave it at that, but he had one last point to drive home.

“You know she’s already there, man,” he said quietly. “And I know how hard this all is for you, but I think you’re there too. You just gotta go for it. Take the sign and go for it.”

***

Mouse

Mouse sat there, feeling a bit stunned by everything Jay had just laid out for him. Will and Jay were silent as Will finished treating Mouse; both of them clearly giving him space to think.

So he did.

All of the advice he’d received over the past few months swirled around in his brain—a lot of it echoing Jay’s words.

And Chuck’s.

A leap of faith.

He thought about Bex.

Laughing with her. Talking to her. Loving her. He had a chance to do that for as long as he could. Forever if she let him.

Everything that he wanted. Desperately. And he could have lost it all today.

Mouse’s heart tripped at the thought; somehow more scared by that than everything else he’d been wrestling with. He couldn’t let her go.

Jay was right. Mouse was—he was there.

He couldn’t believe what he’d almost let slip through his fingers.

“I could have died,” Mouse said slowly. “Without ever going on a date with Bex.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Jay exclaimed, sitting up in his seat.

Mouse stared at him. At Will who was putting stuff away on a tray, shooting little smiles back at him. He shook his head, feeling like his whole world had been turned on its side.

“I could have died without ever kissing Bex,” Mouse said.

“Okay,” Jay grimaced. “I don’t think we need a detailed list or anything like that.”

“Am I good to go?” Mouse asked Will. “I need to get out of here.”

“I need to get your discharge paperwork—”

“Wait.” Jay stood up. “What are you—are you saying—”

“I’m going for it,” Mouse said. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the flood of negatively the usually came when he stepped foot in this direction, but none of that came. All he felt was certainty. He felt good and right. He grinned at Jay. “Yeah. I’m going for it.”

***

Sharon

Sharon was doing a round of the ED when cheers erupted from behind the curtain of room three. She turned to Maggie. “What in the world is happening in there?”

Maggie raised an eyebrow at her. “You really want to know?”

“Is it going to result in me having a headache or extra paperwork?” Sharon gave her the eyebrow right back. Maggie shook her head which was a considerable relief and Sharon made a little ‘go on’ gesture at her.

“Okay,” Maggie grinned, leaning over the counter and lowering her voice. “You know Dr. Halstead’s sister, Bex…”

***

Bex

Slowly, but surely the whole gang was trickling into Molly’s. That and a few new faces that were giggling and checking out Otis from a distance.

Ha. Success.

She scoped them out as she took their orders; asking a casual question here and there. They didn’t scream murdery to her so she gave Otis a discreet thumb’s up when she walked by.

On her next round, she brought him back with her, closely tailed by Joe, and made some introductions. She grinned at Chris when she returned to the bar, ignoring his eyeroll.

“I’m adding ‘excellent wingwoman’ to my resume,” she declared.

“You made that happen,” he said, nodding at the happily chatting group. “So I’d say you earned it.” He elbowed her. “You also earned a break. What are you still doing here? You did inventory all day, you don’t need to stay all night on top of that.”

“Jay and Will and everybody are supposed to come by later,” she said. “I want to stick around for that.”

“Ah,” Chris said knowingly. “I wouldn’t want you to miss ‘and everybody’.” He cackled, dodging out of range of her swat.

The front door opened at that moment and Adam, Kevin, Kim, Al, Hank, Sam, and Julie came through. Sam and Julie made a beeline for where Shay, Isaac, and Devon were seated while the rest of them came up to the bar.

Adam took a look around before facing Bex. “Jay and Mouse not done at the hospital yet?”

Bex froze. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh.” Adam’s eyes went wide. “Oops.”

She crooked a finger at him and he tentatively leaned in until he was close enough for her to grab him by the front of his shirt. “Explain. Now.”

***

Jay

They were still cheering when Connor stepped into the room. “What’s going on in here?”

“Mouse is gonna kiss Bex,” Will said cheerily.

“Don’t say it like that,” Jay complained as Connor gave his own cheer.

Jay had Mouse wrapped up in a hug, happy about it all, but the enormity of the moment wasn’t lost on him either. “This is going to be weird as fuck, isn’t it?” He patted Mouse on the back before letting him go.

“Yeah,” Mouse said, with a sigh that was anything but regretful. “Probably.”

“I’ll survive.” Jay said. Meaning it. “I’m happy for you, man.”

Mouse returned Jay’s grin with a truly dopey smile of his own

All of a sudden, their phones chimed with a bunch of text message notifications. So did Will’s.

And Connor’s.

Hunh.

Jay pulled his out to check and—uh oh. “Someone told Bex what happened,” he said, scrolling through the messages. “We should probably get there sooner rather than later.”

“Connor and I are done,” Will said, snapping off his gloves. “We’ll come with you.” He had a sparkle in his eye that Jay knew meant he wasn’t about to miss out on whatever was going to happen next. “I’ll go get you discharged.” Connor followed him out, saying he’d grab both their things so they could leave quicker.

Jay shot off a message to Bex, letting her know that everything was fine and they would be there soon. He peeked over at Mouse who was slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Not gonna reply?”

“You already told her we’re coming, right?” Mouse shrugged, biting at his lip with a little smile. “I just want to see her and talk to her in person.”

Will was back within seconds and soon enough they were all free to go. Will and Connor must have taken some kind of crazy short cut after they left or broken every speed limit there was because they were waiting outside of Molly’s when Jay and Mouse pulled up.

“Ready to go in?” Will asked, bouncing a bit in his excitement.

Mouse still looked determined, but he was knitting his fingers together nervously. “Yeah, uh, I just—I need a minute, okay?” He shot Jay a look. “I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”

“No worries,” Jay said, clapping a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I’ll try and hold her off for that long.” He followed Will and Connor up the steps and into the bar.

Bex must’ve had her Jaydar dialled up to eleven because as soon as he walked through the door, her head whipped up and she was marching over.

“Is he okay?” she demanded, peering around him, trying to spot Mouse. “What happened? Where is he?”

Jay held up a hand. “He’s fine,” he said. “He needed some stitches for a cut on his head and he’s a little bruised up, but Will gave him the all clear—”

Bex grabbed his arm. “Where. Is. He?”

He sighed, sending out a silent apology to Mouse for the incredibly short minute.

“He’s outside.”

***

Mouse

He jumped when the front door of Molly’s slammed open and Bex came flying out. She looked around wildly before spotting him off to the side and rushing over.

“Mouse! Are you okay? Where are you hurt?” Her hands carefully fluttered over him, needing to check every inch. Needing to touch. Mouse let her, shaking his head at the rapid fire questions.

“I’m okay,” he said. “I got all checked out and all I needed was some stitches, but—”

“Are you sure though?” She frowned at his bandage. “Did Dr. Abrams see you? What about a concussion? Or internal bleeding? Or—”

“Bex, I swear.” He grabbed her hands to hold them still. “I was thoroughly examined, I promise. All I need right now is to talk to you—”

“We should go inside!” She exclaimed, trying to tug him toward the side door. “You need to be sitting down. You should rest! Have you eaten? I’ll get you some food—”

“Babe, please!” He pulled her back. Easily, considering she’d gone stock still.

Her eyes were wide as a slow smile spread across her face. “Babe?”

He could feel the flush travelling up his neck, but he held fast to her hands and returned her smile. Every bit of nervousness that had tried to find a way back in faded away. “Bex,” he said. “Please? I’m, uh, I’m trying to leap here.”

***

Bex

Her breath hitched as his words sunk in and she stepped closer, squeezing his hands in hers. “Wait. Really? Are you sure—”

Mouse let go of her hands and put his arms around her waist, pulling her in close. “Yes, I’m sure,” he said as she looped her arms around his neck. “I’m—Bex, I’m all in.”

“Well, that’s—that’s handy because I am too.” She laughed and he smiled down at her, oh, so softly before they both leaned in for a kiss.

The kiss.

One worth waiting months—years—for.

Mouse tightened his arms around her and a spike of heat ran down her spine. He kissed her like his life depended on it, like it was the last chance he’d ever get to do this, but—

It might be a last first kiss, but it was definitely the first of many, many kisses to come. Bex wanted to kiss Mouse for the rest of her life. She never wanted to stop.

Except they did break apart just then.

It was kind of hard to keep kissing when you couldn’t stop smiling.

Mouse touched his forehead to hers, eyes closed as he huffed out a laugh. “Don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that.”

Bex didn’t think she would either. “C’mere,” she said, tugging on his collar as she walked them backwards to get them off the sidewalk and out of plain sight.

Mouse slapped a hand against the wall of the bar to cushion her head when she met it, his other still at the small of her back, keeping her close. She put her arms back around his neck, pulling him down until their lips met again.

They kissed until Bex was dizzy with it. Mouse groaned when they finally stopped for air. “I had a whole speech I was going to give you.”

“You had a speech?” Bex pressed a kiss against his jaw. “I love speeches. Tell me your speech.” She began kissing her way down his neck and he melted into her.

“It was, uh, I was going to start with, oh, jesus, Bex,” he moaned out when she nibbled on him a bit.

“This is a great speech,” Bex murmured into his skin. “Five stars.”

He kissed her again, deep enough to steal her breath away. Then he hugged her tight, whispering into her ear. “I’m sorry I took so long.”

Bex nudged him back until he met her eyes. “I think it took exactly the right amount of time if this is where we ended up.”

Mouse gave her that crooked little smile before leaning in and kissing her senseless all over again.

***

Otis

As soon as Bex had gone outside, nearly everyone had raced for the windows, trying to get a peek at what was happening. Or tried to before Boden barked at them all to ‘sit their butts down.’

After a painfully long wait, neither Bex nor Mouse had come back inside.

“What do you think is happening?” Shay leaned across the table to whisper at him.

“Let’s give them some privacy, like the chief said,” Casey piped up and everyone boo’d quietly.

“Someone should probably check,” Gabi said. “Just to make sure they’re okay. Don’t you think?”

And then, for some unfathomable reason, everyone’s eyes turned to Otis. “Me?” He pointed at himself, just to make sure, and they all nodded. “Why am I the one going?”

“I mean,” Gabi shrugged. “We could rock, paper, scissors for it, but I think we all know how that’s going to end anyway.”

“I do not have a tell,” he grumbled at her. He tried to ignore the pleading stares coming from every corner of the room—all of 51, the weirdly large crowd from Med that had shown up, the Intelligence crew—even Chief Boden was failing at not giving him a bit of hopeful side eye.

“Fine!” Otis threw his hands up. “I will check, but if I get my head bitten off—”

“Just go!” Stella pushed him toward the side door. “I believe in you.”

He shook out his shoulders as he stood before the door and took a deep breath. Then he slowly pushed it open and poked his head outside and—oh, god, that was something he could never unsee.

***

Bex

The sound of the side door creaking open had them breaking apart and Bex looked over to see Otis leaning out of it with his eyes squinched shut.

“Did you need something, Otis?” she called out, finding herself sneaking a hand up Mouse’s shirt to stroke his back because she could touch now.

“Uh, just seeing if you were coming back inside to work anytime soon?” he asked, eyes still closed.

She laughed when Mouse silently shook his head and started peppering her face with kisses. “No,” she managed to get out. “I quit.”

“Alrighty then.” Otis ducked back inside.

***

Otis

“They’re fine,” Otis said shortly, working hard at not making any eye contact with any of the Herrmanns or Halsteads in the room. Or anyone really.

“Okay, but—”

“Nope,” Otis pointed a finger at Shay, cutting her off. “I’ve already wiped it all from my mind so that’s all you get. They’re fine.”

Chris raised an eyebrow at him when he came over and stepped behind the bar.

“Yeah, she’s not coming back in anytime soon,” he said. “I might as well help out.”

“Atta girl,” Chris said, shooting a grin at the side door and chuckling to himself.

“It’s about time,” Boden agreed from his spot at the bar.

Otis couldn’t argue with that.

Bex and Mouse were due for some happiness.

And they’d definitely looked happy.

Ugh.

His poor eyeballs.

***

Bex

As much as Bex would like to make out with Mouse forever, doing so against the side of Molly’s wasn’t exactly the best plan. And if they’d sent Otis out to check on them, it was only a matter of time before someone less easily deterred poked their head out.

“Okay,” Bex said, when they’d finally broken apart again. She ran her hands over Mouse’s shoulders and patted at his chest. “This is your chance to back out—” She pressed a finger to his lips when he started to protest. “—of going in there because there’s a zero percent chance that any of them will be able to be normal about this once we step a foot through the door.”

Mouse kissed her finger and flashed a grin at her. “I’m willing to risk it.” He grabbed her hand and led her inside.

Bex was right.

They were being super weird.

Stilted conversations were happening all over the room.

“Sports,” Shay was saying to Kelly who was heroically trying to keep a straight face. “What’s happening with those lately?”

“It’s hot,” Adam blurted out to Al and Kim. “So hot this week. Rain. Rain is a thing. That would be good.”

No one was looking their way with the exception of Capp who was staring directly at them with a big grin. “Did you kiss?”

Tony reached up to smack him upside the head.

Bex buried her face into Mouse’s shoulder and felt him shaking with silent laughter. She held up a finger before looking back out at the room. “You get one minute to be weirdos about this and that’s it.”

There was a moment of silence before the whole place erupted.

Everyone was on their feet, cheering and talking at once.

She turned to give Mouse an apologetic shrug, but he was taking all of the backslaps and teasing with a good-natured grin. And a tight grip on her hand the whole time.

This was really happening.

And it was already amazing.

Bex squeezed his hand. He squeezed hers back and then she let herself get swept up in the joy of her goofy, chaotic family.

***

Chris, Jay, Will, and Connor

They each found Bex during the enthusiastic celebrating and give her a gigantic hug. Staying silent, because they could barely hear each other anyway through the noise, but saying everything they needed to with one embrace.

Happiness.

Overwhelming happiness and love and support.

Always.

***

Mouse

After that first minute, things did calm down a bit. He joined the 21 gang and Jay gave him another bone-crushing hug. “No details ever,” Jay made him promise and Mouse solemnly agreed.

“I’ll take details,” Shay said as she bounced over with a cheeky grin. Julie managed to redirect her and the rest of the night was almost like a normal night at Molly’s.

Almost.

Now, he kept looking over at the bar and he knew what Bex tasted like.

He couldn’t wait to kiss her again.

And again.

A few hours later, when everyone was starting to head out, Severide and Casey came over to him and got about two words into a shovel talk before Bex appeared out of nowhere.

“No,” she said, giving them both a fierce look.

“Oh, come on,” Severide protested. “We just—”

“No,” Bex repeated, drawing a finger across her neck. “Don’t even.”

Casey laughed, pulling Bex into a hug and kissing her forehead. “I’ll keep an eye on him,” he said before herding Severide and the rest of the 51 crew out the door.

Mouse stuck around to help close the bar and walked Bex to her car. He’d called an Uber for himself since Jay had driven them here.

“You know,” Bex said slowly, fingers still tangled in his hair from when he’d pressed her against the Tin Can to say goodnight. “I could drive you home.” She kissed him slowly. “Maybe come upstairs.” Another kiss. “Stay for awhile.”

He lost himself in another kiss, almost willing to give into the idea before he pulled away and buried his face in her neck with a groan.

“Bad idea?” Bex asked quietly.

“No,” Mouse muttered. “Very good idea.” He popped his head back up and sighed. “But I really want to take you on a proper date first.”

“One could argue that we’ve been on quite a few dates,” she said.

“No.” Mouse reached up to cup her face, kissing her one more time. “I want to take you on a real one. Where we’re both on the same page and we both know what it means.”

Bex blushed. “Okay,” she said, leaning into his hand. “When? Tomorrow?”

“Yeah—wait,” Mouse’s face fell. “I promised Jay I’d watch the game with him and—”

“We don’t want to start this with you breaking plans with him,” Bex said, shaking her head and Mouse’s heart warmed at how she got that so completely.

“It wouldn’t feel right,” he agreed.

“Wednesday’s out because of Outdoor Game Night,” she sighed. “I promised Kevin and I want to make sure Sylvie has fun.”

“Thursday?” Mouse asked hopefully.

“I have to work at Molly’s,” Bex said with a rueful laugh. “I promised Chris because he’s got some sort of last hurrah of the summer thing planned with the kids.”

“Friday then.” Mouse crossed his fingers and Bex nodded.

“Friday works for me,” she whispered. “Wow. We’re really doing this.”

“All in,” Mouse said, kissing her once again.

Finally.

Click here to read the next installment - Game Night 3: It’s Bex Ball, Bébés.

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@sorry-i-spaced, @thegirlwhowishedeveryonelived, @ivyalmighty, @thewannabewriter, @lexhalstead3, @multifandomgrl08, @sensitivemallysix, @thebejeweledwatercat, @emme-looou, @trulylavandedarling, @onechicagochoicesbutterfly

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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 years

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Bucky Barnes One Shots

Bucky Barnes Main Masterlist

A/N: all reader inserts are female unless otherwise stated. These are as inclusive as possible and only description that may be included is if reader has hair (mostly used in rough smut scenes). KEY: ⁂ = smut † = death ⨮ =angst ꕥ = fluff ⧻ = 500+ notes

The Ransom ⁂ ⧻ ➴ Sassy reader gets rescued by boyfriend!Bucky and Avengers Whiteout ⁂ ⧻ ➴ Friends to lovers trope, mission extraction gone wrong, PWP Sick Day ꕥ ⧻ ➴ Bucky takes care of you when you are sick Fix You ⁂ ꕥ ➴ You take care of CW!Bucky after a nightmare Equal Opportunist ⁂ ➴ Assassin!Bucky keeps killing your marks so you have sex with him, PWP Sex-Ed ⧻ ➴ You fumble your way through teaching sex-ed with Bucky watching The Ghost Of You || AudioBook ➴ After the blip you have to survive the heartache without Bucky Postpartum Depression ➴ Bucky helps you at your lowest, read warnings and tags Silver Tongue ➴ You break your rules to save Bucky End of the Line † ➴ Steve dies of old age in your care Fall From Grace ⁂ ➴ MFF threesome, angel-turned-demon reader You Don’t Own Me † || Dark!Winter Soldier ➴ No happy endings here, read warnings and tags 10 Little Lies ➴ Friends to lovers trope, a drunken night ends with Bucky in your bed Eggplant Emoji ꕥ ➴ Bucky takes matters into his own hands when you struggle with modern dating. Good Behaviour ⁂ || ft. Baron Helmut Zemo ➴ The Baron sets you up a new Dom, Bucky, for when he is sent back to prison. Hacked ꕥ⨮ ➴ Your phone gets hacked and intimate files get threatened to be shared Obscene Behaviour ꕥ|| Platonic / Sam & Bucky ➴ Your coffee date with your friends takes a turn when you feed your newborn. She Knows ⁂ ⧻ ➴ You activate a new kink as you tease your boyfriend from across the bar. By Your Side ꕥ ➴ Bucky takes care of you when you are sick. Not Enough ꕥ ➴ Friends to lovers trope. When Worlds Collide ꕥ ➴ Your life changes completely when you and Bucky collide. Babysitting Bucky ⨮ ꕥ ➴ You are partnered with Bucky and he is not happy with the arrangement Control & Comfort ⁂ ꕥ ⧻ ➴ Bucky has a rough day and takes it out in your p*ssy Plié or Pliable ⁂ || Widow!reader ➴ Bucky watches you practicing ballet and wants to know how flexible you are. A Change Of Season ⨮ ⁂ || Widow!reader ➴ You are reunited with Bucky after Nat frees you from the Red Room, but it’s not what you expected Better Late Than Never ⁂ || Bucky, Steve, Natasha x reader ➴ You come home to find the party started without you. Takeout ꕥ ➴ You try to make a home cooked meal but it doesn’t go to plan Nightmares ⁂ || SamBucky ➴ When you wake to find Bucky caught in a nightmare there’s only one way to chase away the lingering fear. Mine ⁂ ⨮ ➴ Bucky gets jealous and spanks you for it Last Words ⨮ ꕥ ➴ You get kidnapped after storming out from a fight with Bucky The Bond We Share || vampire!reader ➴ You bond yourself to Bucky to save his life My Heart Remembers You ⨮ ꕥ ➴ Your love transcends time as you are reborn to find your Bucky Burning House ⨮ ➴ Another night another nightmare The Interrogation ⁂ || Winter Soldier ➴ You interrogate the Winter Soldier Promises ⨮ ꕥ ➴ You need to come to grips with your newly acquired power The Secret Life of Bucky Barnes ➴ A glimpse into life as Bucky’s secret girlfriend Wallflower ꕥ ➴ You and Bucky finally confess your feeling for each other Instinct ꕥ || blind!reader ➴ Bucky tracks you down after trying to stop a mugging and he ends up staying for the company. Don’t Want To Miss A Thing ⁂ ➴ Bucky celebrates your birthday Seven Seconds † ➴ In seven seconds you see your entire future laid bare.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x poc!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction

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ironstrangle · 8 months

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Kissing Sam Wilson #9 - King of Mardi Gras (SamJoaquin, 500 words)

@samsseptember prompt Carnival | King of Mardi Gras

Sam had forced Joaquin to come to New Orleans with him for Mardi Gras. Well, forced wasn’t the word, but he certainly worked to drag the younger man along. Having grown up in Louisiana, the Mardi Gras celebrations were just part of his life, his history. Joaquin, however, had experienced none of it. It was definitely going to be a lot of fun dragging him along.

“Honestly, I do not know what to expect,” he admitted awkwardly. “I’ve only seen some of this stuff on TV…”

“It’ll be fun,” Sam said. “The mayor asked me to come to the festivities and I…I couldn’t refuse, you know? It’s a part of my culture, my history and I wanted to expose the world to it. It gives good representation, shows them I’m one of them and all that. Also want to expose my wonderful boyfriend to what it’s like.”

“It’ll be fun,” Joaquin said, still a little hesitant. His shyness was adorable and had been unexpected when they first started dating. Joaquin had this suave, confident manner about him when he was working, but in their day-to-day, he had his own insecurities like anyone else. “Just tell me if I look stupid.”

“You could never, baby.”

Joaquin felt like he looked stupid, sure, but Sam couldn’t stop looking at him as they joined the festivities. His eyes lit up at the colors, the music, the culture. He was enjoying every bit of his time there. Everything was perfect until the mayor of New Orleans put a crown on Sam’s head.

“What’s this?” Sam asked.

“Oh, didn’t the mayor tell you…”

There was a look on his boyfriend’s face that was way too innocent for words. Joaquin toyed with the brightly colored beads around his neck. He had at least a dozen strands on, in a variety of colors. The gold strand was actually caught on his earring, hanging limply above the others.

“We’d like to crown Captain America, Sam Wilson, the king of this year’s Mardi Gras festivities.”

Sam could feel himself visibly paling at that.

“J.”

The mayor gave a speech that Sam was barely able to listen to. It talked about how Sam was born and raised in Louisiana and how his first time visiting New Orleans during Mardi Gras had taken place when he was only a small child. The mayor even told a hilarious anecdote about Sam’s inability to understand the rowdy drunk crowds or how his mother Darlene had marched him through the French Quarter covering his eyes when he was a kid. For a reason he hadn’t realized until he was much, much older.

Well, someone had told the mayor that story.

Once the crowds died down, the man got closer to Sam.

“Hey Captain America, you seem a little…surprised,” he said. “Like you didn’t know I was going to do that.”

“I didn’t.”

“Your partner said he’d give you the word. Like three weeks ago…”

Oh, he was going to kill Joaquin. But first, he had a party to go to. And Joaquin sort of distracted him by kissing the King of Mardi Gras in front of everyone.

#samtember 2023 #samtember2023 #samjoaquin #samquin #sam x joaquin

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demetriandelibinaryboyfriends · 1 year

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@allvalley100

Prompt: Ritual

Pairing: Hawkmetri

This is a 5-parter--500 words total! CW for blood, gore, body horror, and general being-posessed-by-a-demon spookiness.

***

“I don’t know about this.”

Hawk narrows his eyes at the summoning circle, unnerved.

“Don’t be a pussy.” Tory gives him a steely look. “Do you want to beat our enemies or not?”

“Yeah, it’s just…does it have to be me?”

“We need a host.” Tory shrugs. “You have the most ex-friends at LaRusso’s little party. If it’s you, they’ll be unnerved enough to give Cobra Kai the advantage.”

“Fine.”

Hawk steps into the pentagram, still feeling nauseous.

No matter. They have to do whatever it takes to win this.

Tory turns to Kyler and Robby, smirking. “Start the ritual.”

Hawk doesn’t know why he had doubts about this.

He’s stronger. Faster. More powerful than he’s ever been. It’s a bloodbath at the LaRusso house, and he’s to thank.

It’s almost an easy win. He’s cornered one of his final victims when everything goes to shit.

He has the gangly kid pinned when he feels a hand on his cheek. A hand that he suddenly remembers he’s known most of his life.

And neither Hawk nor the monster inside him has been touched softly in a long time.

“Eli. Please. You don’t have to do this.”

And so he doesn’t.

As if Sam LaRusso’s Christmas “party” wasn’t bad enough. After 2 hours of 0 festivities, Cobra Kai shows up with a fucking demon.

Or some gargoyle-looking thing, anyways. Long claws, snake eyes. The works.

The karate wars now involve the occult. Fantastic.

Demetri’s sure he’s about to be gored when he spots the lip scar, visible even under black scales.

And so Demetri cups his face and whispers his name until he remembers, because he knows Eli Moskowitz is too strong to forget who he is.

“I know you’re hurting in there. Let me help you.”

And miraculously, Eli does.

The exorcism, to put it mildly, fucking sucks.

Demetri can’t look during the worst of it, staring at the wall as his oldest friend writhes on the floor.

It’s the neverending pain of Eli fighting an enemy he can’t see and being helpless to do anything.

“Hawk?” Miguel’s voice is tentative. “Is it gone? Can you leave the circle?”

Demetri turns. Eli scoots across the chalk-drawn lines, pale and shaking.

Weak with relief, Demetri smiles. He opens his arms.

And Eli runs to the only person who could watch him burn the whole world down and still love him after.

“Shout if you need anything.”

Miguel pats Demetri’s back before leaving him and Eli alone.

Demetri knows what he means. We’ll come save you if there’s any demon left.

But with Eli sobbing into his arms—clinging to him like the last life raft in an empty ocean—Demetri’s not sure he cares.

“I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I know. It’s okay.” Demetri strokes his hair. “That wasn’t you.”

“I let it happen.”

“And you fought that thing off long enough for us to get rid of it. You’re tough as balls, Moskowitz.”

For the first time in months, Eli smiles.

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swiftlymoniquesblog · 1 year

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Perfect Storm - Dean Winchester x Reader

A/N: Hi friends! I know I’ve been rather absent with posting stuff but life has been HECTIC! I work two jobs, seven days a week right now so it’s a lot and I’m exhausted. Anywho, this imagine is part of @supraveng ‘s follower challenge! I’ve been working on this since like August of 2022 or so and was supposed to be done by the first of September but she allowed me an extension. Thanks for that babe, and congrats on 500 follows!

Masterlist of all Masterlists| Supernatural Masterlist

Warnings: FLUFF! Breakdown, crying, comfort. Someone has a HUGE breakdown so if that’s a trigger for you, I am sorry!

Word Count: 5,887

Thanks for being patient with me friends! Love to you all!

It’s been six weeks since we’ve been on the road, trying to figure out where Chuck could be hiding. That asshat has been messing with Sammy and I for way too long, trying to take over the world. Sure, he’s God but that doesn’t mean he has to control every little thing and try killing us in the process! And since we have no leads, we’ve been trying to find other cases to work and more people to save. I was currently sitting behind the wheel of my beloved Baby, Sam beside me, scrolling through his phone, while AC/DC played from the car stereo and a pretty impressive drum solo came up.

“Dean, for once can we listen to anything but AC/DC?” Sam asks, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers as I continue my solo.

“Sammy, what have I always said? Driver picks the music,”

“Shotgun shuts his cake hole, I know,” he finished my sentence. “But what if I drove?”

“Oh risky question, little brother” I reply.

“I’ll drive when you sleep.”

“Yeah and how often do I actually sleep, Sam?”

Last time I slept without a nightmare was…well I don’t really know. The nightmares have been getting increasingly worse the last few months. Not that I’ve slept well before that but since Jack accidently killed our Mom, that’s been a struggle. I’ve watched her die twice now, something no child should ever have to see, especially at four years old. But even the second time, it's pretty bad. I still hate the kid for what he did but I’ve forgiven him…for now. Sam had a somber look on his face and knew I didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

“So get this, there have been an unusual amount of homicides in a small town in Northern Texas, more than they normally deal with in the year, in just six months.”

“Huh, doesn’t sound like our kind of thing. People are just nuts today, Sammy,”

“True, but there is something that seems like we would do. Each time someone goes to recover the body, there is nothing left.” Sam says.

“Okay that might be something we could work on but, I’m not convinced it’s a monster yet,” I say.

“Maybe not, but I think it’ll be worth checking out.”

Redirecting our path, I drove Baby in a U-turn and headed off to the nearest small town in Northern Texas, where these cases stemmed from. Several hours passed and we ended up in Wichita Falls and rolled into a small motel on the east side of town. Once we were settled, Sam pulled out his laptop and began typing away at the keys while I searched for a place to get a good burger by looking through flyers in the room. Sam tuned into a police scanner and soon enough there was a call in regards to suspicious activity near our motel.

‘”Dean, I think we got something,” Sam says, turning the volume up.

“All units, we have gunshots out by the WayfarerMotel. RP (reporting party) advised at least six shots were heard, no sound of vehicles but advised there were people arguing on the south side of the property near the freeway,” A female voice called over the radio and responses of “10-4” were soon followed.

Sam and I grabbed our guns, checking to make sure they were loaded and ready to go. We didn’t interfere with the police but did offer them assistance when it came to the investigation aspect. Looking out the windows, we watched as several vehicles had been on scene and officers were searching for the suspect. Soon after, more shots were fired, shouts of “he’s trying to run” and soon enough, someone was handcuffed.

“Wait, where is the body?!” Someone yells and a swarm of officers and other investigators gathered around to see if there was a victim. Sam and I took that as our queue to come on scene.

“Gentlemen, this is a closed scene” a voice said, turning to shoot us questioning looks.

“It’s okay, we’re from the FBI, I’m Agent Stan, this is my colleague Agent Lee,” I say flashing my fake badge, Sam following the lead.

“We didn’t call in the FBI,” another officer said.

“I’ll be honest, we were off duty and heard of the incident, wanted to see if we could help out.” I said, trying to ease the confusion.

“I’ll allow it,” one of the Sergeants on scene said, seeming to not care about the fight.

“So what’s happened? We’ve heard there’s been a string of homicides with no victims found?” Sam asked, pulling a notepad out of his pocket.

“Not a single one and this is abnormal for the city to have this many homicides in one year.” An officer, later introduced as Officer Hughes, explained the incident.

“Any leads on what is happening? Is any suspicious person found or any other activity that all the cases have had in common?”

“Well we did find something in each case that relates them together in some bizarre way. Each case has the same call for service. Caller calls in, advises of gunshots, hears people arguing, we get on scene and only one person is found. Aside from the callers, just one person is found. We handcuff them just for safety precautions but the majority of the time, we end up letting them go. In all my years I’ve worked in law enforcement, I’ve never seen anything like this. No definite suspect, no found victims. So we can’t fully rule them as homicides either because there is nobody.” Officer Hughes said.

“Well we might be here for a little while then so we can help out,” Sam said, trying to add a helping hand.

“That won’t be necessary gentlemen, we have enough people on this,” Officer Hughes said, dismissing us as he got back to his vehicle.

“Well that went well,” I said, sighing in exasperation.

“Come on, I bet if we head back to the police station, someone might be able to give us some information.” Sam said, settling into the passenger seat.

I grabbed a few supplies before I sat behind the wheel of my precious Baby and found the station was not too far from our motel. Pulling up, I find a parking space across the street from the building and Sam and I walk up the steps to the front doors of the station. It was the eerily morning hours, not too many people on the streets, the perfect time for people to commit crimes. Opening the large door, a young woman sat behind the desk, looking up at us when the door slammed behind us.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” She asks, eyes flitting between the two of us.

“Uh yeah, I’m Agent Stan, this is Agent Lee, we’re with the FBI,” I say and we both flash our badges.

“We were just on scene of the shooting by the Wayferer Motel and we weren’t able to get a lot of information. Do you think there’s anyone we can talk to about this?” Sam says, giving a small grim to the woman.

“Well given the fact that it's three in the morning, most people aren’t here and won’t be here until eight or so. Y’all might want to come back,” she says, looking back to her computer in front of her.

“Maybe you can help us. Do you know anything about the string of potential homicides that have been happening here lately?” I say, trying to turn on my charm as best as I could.

“No and even if I did, I’m not at liberty to discuss cases with anyone, even other law enforcement,” she says.

“Alright well, here’s my card, whenever someone is available, have them give me a call. You have a good rest of your morning,” I say, shooting the woman a wink.

The next morning, we headed back to the station to see if there was anyone we could talk to. “Good morning gentlemen, how can we help you?” Another lady at the front desk said as we walked to the window.

“Yeah we were here last night trying to see if we could talk to anyone about the shooting at the Wayfarer Motel.”

“Do you have any information about it?” The lady asked.

“No but we were on scene and we’re with the FBI,” Sam and I flashed our badges as soon as I said FBI.

“Let me call over to the detectives and see if we can’t find someone to come talk to y’all.”

“Thank you,” Sam says and we both start looking at the displays hung around the lobby.

“Agents.” A male in a black polo shirt and khaki pants with a badge around his neck walks to us and shakes our hands.

“I’m Detective Parker, follow me,” he says, leading us through a door and taking him into a room with a table and some chairs.

“So y’all were on the scene last night?” Detective Parker asked us.

“Yes we were staying at the hotel and we’ve heard about some of the incidents where someone is shot but there’s no body’s left,” Sam explains.

Detective Parker sighs and runs a hand down his face. “It made no sense as to what happens to the bodies after they’re shot. We have no answers and our citizens are getting frustrated as to why their family members’ bodies are not there to bury or cremate them.”

“And that’s why we’re here. Tell us everything you do know,” I say.

A few hours go by as we dive deep into the last weeks of the calls and cases from the City. I get up to go grab some coffee and stumble to an office where a bunch of ladies are sitting behind computers and answering phones.

“Well hello ladies,” I smirk to the room of beautiful women.

“Who are you?” One of them pipes up and asks.

“I’m Agent Stan of the FBI. I’m here helping with some of the shootings y’all have had here. Y’all know anything about those?” I ask.

“We heard about them but we don’t know anything. The guys don’t tell us anything, just what happened.” Another clerk said and she immediately caught my attention. She had long (y/h/c), bright (y/e/c) eyes, and she didn't bother looking at me much longer after that first comment. It seemed like she wasn’t impressed with me and that made me more intrigued by her.

“I see, is there anything you can tell me sweetheart?” I ask, trying to turn on my charm but again, she seemed unimpressed.

“That’s it now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to get back to,” she says, her tone harsh but I found it interesting.

“Pardon me ma’am,” I say using my best Southern voice but the look of annoyance on her face proved she couldn’t care less.

Most of the time, I can get away with some flirting with women, this one? She’ll be more of a challenge.”

“Agent Stan?” A voice called to me. I stand and follow him back to another room off set by the clerks area.

“So, what kind of leads do you have, if any?” He asked, Sammy was already in the room.

“Well, we kind of have a few ideas but you wouldn’t believe us,” I said, shooting a pointed look to my younger brother.

“Try me, I’ve been in this for a long time. I’ve heard just about everything,” the lead investigator on this and other shootings said.

“We think it might be a series of soul eaters” I say.

“What now?”

“Soul eaters, they are exactly what you think they are. Since all the bodies that have been killed here are basically hallowed out shells, we think there may be several around the area. Unfortunately, they are not easy to kill but we do know someone who can and can set the souls back to the bodies they were taken from,” I explained as rationally as I could but I knew it seemed crazy to those who were not used to hunting.

“Well that is definitely something I didn't expect to hear but it also isn’t the most out there answer I’ve heard either.”

“Alright, well let us call our guy and see what he says about it.” I say, giving a pointed look to the detective, wondering what other crazy things he’s seen but deciding not to ask.

I grab my phone out of my pocket and scroll down my contact until it stops on the name. I hate asking this guy for help but he’s our only source for this case so I push back my personal feelings and press the call button.

“Hello Dean,” his accented voice, full of entitlement, rang through my ear.”

“Ketch, we need your help,” I say.

“Well hello to you too,” he says and I can just hear the dumb grin on his face.

“Yeah hi, listen we’re out here in North Texas and we’re helping the local police on a case we think you may have experience in,” I say, getting straight to the point.

“Oh, where in Texas are you? My daughter happens to be out there and she works at a police department,” he says.

“Since when did you have a kid?” I ask.

“Oh, never mind that. Where am I going?”

“Wichita Falls.”

“That’s where my daughter lives!”

Oh crap, so Ketch’s offspring works at the police department here? Awesome.

A few hours later and we’re back at the scene of the crime. Ketch wanted the low down on what we’ve discovered up to this point so we decided to meet at the scene and go over what we know.

“So the bodies are never found?” Ketch asks.

“Nope they’re completely gone. Nothing is left behind but there’s always signs of some form of homicide,” Sam explains.

“And you lads are thinking its,” he trails off until I pipe in with our research.

“Soul eaters, except they’ve evolved so much over the years, they’re not just taking souls anymore.”

“Interesting, well you called the right person then,” Ketch says, standing up and heading to his car.

“So? What does that mean?” I say, Sammy and I quickly follow him.

“It means that I’ve seen it once before,” he said, Sam and I catching up with him.

“You have?” Sam asked.

“A long time ago, yes. It was a rather tragic event for the families but we were able to get the bodies back.”

“How?” I ask.

“Well it won't be easy but we have to…make a sacrifice of sorts,” he says, making his way back to his car. “Follow me back to the station and I’ll go over the details with detectives.”

We jump inside Baby and speed down the highway, much like Ketch had left. When we finally pulled back to the station, it was nearing five o’clock and a lot of the employees had been leaving for the day.

“Dad!” A female voice says, bounding over to Ketch and wrapping her arms around him.”

“(Y/N)!” he says, turning to the girl I noticed in the criminal investigation section earlier; no.

“Gents, I’d like for you to meet my daughter, (Y//N), (Y/N) this is Sam and Dean. They are friends of mine.”

“Oh the Winchesters? I thought you didn't like them?” She says and I chuckle; I like this girl.

“Well not at first, no, but we’ve all come to an agreement of sorts.”

“So, you’re Ketch’s daughter,” I say, looking at the woman.

“Not by blood. He adopted me when I was a kid. My bio parents died in a hunting accident when I was six and Ketch happened to be there, so he took me in,” she says.

“Well, we’re glad you’re here, (Y/N),” Sam says, reaching to shake her hand; I just nod at her.

I couldn’t believe it, even for a minute, I thought a girl related to Ketch was beautiful.

As our investigation went on, so did the opportunities for (Y/N) to show up unannounced, or so it seemed. Like, I thought she had a job at the department, but somehow she always ended up there, along with her Dad, to help assist us in our investigation. Not that I really minded her company but it was a little…odd.

“Don't you have something better to do?” I ask her as she’s going through some paperwork from the shooting.

She stopped flipping through the pages halfway between the pile and looked up to meet my gaze. “I’m helping on this case, y’all need some help sometimes, right?”

“Well yes but I thought you had another job to do?” I ask.

“I’m getting the feeling you don’t want me around Winchester,” she says, now more frustrated with me.

“I don’t care what you do,” I say, trying to play off how I was feeling underneath the surface. To be honest, I did care what she did. I barely know the girl but she’s getting under my skin and inside my head. What the hell is happening here I have no idea but all I know is I like being around her.

“Well clearly you do otherwise you wouldn’t be asking,” she says, raising an eyebrow in a challenging way.

Shit that wasn’t supposed to happen. I thought to myself so I did the best thing I knew to do; I walked away. I don’t know what my problem was but this had to stop. I couldn’t like Ketch’s daughter, her father is literally the biggest douche I’ve ever met so no way could I get involved with her. But the way she moved when she walked, swaying in the slightest way, her head held high like she owned the place. She didn’t look a thing like her Dad but there was more to her than that. She had that long (y/h/c) that flowed past her shoulders and down her back. It was just a little wavy and seemed to have more than one color in it but it suited her well. And those big beautiful (y/e/c) and a perfect smile to match. In just the few short days we were working this case, she has taken over every thought of mine so naturally, I didn’t like her.

“Dean, are you ready to go?!” Sam yells to me from the other room.

“Yeah,” I called back and grabbed my gear before meeting up with Sam, Ketch and (y/n). “What is she doing here?”

“She is here to help. Believe it or not gents, she does know about this life and has helped me out more than a time or two,” Ketch explained.

“As long as she stays out of the way,” I say, throwing a duffle bag into the trunk before making my way to the front. I could hear her huff in annoyance but I could care less.

We drove around town for a while, trying to find the supplies we were going to need for our “sacrifice” before we headed back to the motel where the last body was supposed to be. Gathering everything together, we followed Ketch’s instructions and then it was time for the dreaded part.

“So what exactly do we need to sacrifice?” Sam asks.

“Well, that’s where it can be rather difficult. We don’t need an entire person or thing to sacrifice, but we need the blood of the pure of heart,” Ketch explains.

“Who would that be?” I ask before following his eyes over to his daughter. Her face turned a bit pale, knowing her blood was going to be nearly drained from her body but she didn't hesitate.

“Tell me what I have to do,” she says.

“I know this won't be easy for you darling, but I will be right here the entire time,” Ketch says, attempting to comfort his child.

“Dad, I’m not a child, I can do this,” she says.

“I know but you are my child, my only child for that matter and I worry about you,” he says.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve put myself in a little bit of a difficult place for helping you out and I’m sure it won’t be the last,” (Y/N) says.

As much as I hate to admit it, she’s incredible for doing this and doing it more than just one time. I’m not saying I care about (y/n) or anything but this is going to be a risky task. She’s going to need to give a generous amount of blood for this sacrifice and to see she’s okay with going in without a second thought; it's admirable. It was almost as if we were in a hospital; we had a needle hooked up into her arm and tube after tube of blood was being drawn from her. I could tell it was making Ketch uncomfortable because it was his child, whether biologically or not, so I escorted him out of the room.

“Here, let’s go get a beer or something,” I say, clapping my hand on his shoulder and walking out.

“I’m sorry Dean, I just couldn't stand to see that much blood coming from my daughter,” Ketch says, sighing in defeat as we sat across one another at the map table in the Bunker.

“Hey, there’s no need to apologize. I’m worried about her, too,” I say.

A moment of silence passed between us before Ketch spoke again. “You care for her don’t you?”

“What? No, I don’t care for her!” I say, suddenly becoming defensive.

“You do; I can see it on your face. I’ve had the same look before and it does not go away so easily,” he says, frowning and dropping his eyes to the floor.

“Okay so what if I do? Is that so bad?” I ask.

“No it's not, but since this is my daughter we’re talking about, it does make a bit of difference.”

“Look Ketch, I would never hurt her,” I say, trying to explain what I hope I can do for his child.

“I know you wouldn’t, Dean. In fact, I’m not worried about her dating you, if that is what she wants. I am worried about this life; hunting. She has had some exposure to it but I try to shelter from it most of the time. If she’s around you, I’m afraid someone or something will get to her and there would be no point for my life to continue at that point.” Ketch was being really vulnerable and I was surprised to say the least, but I respected it. Sure, we had our issues trusting him in the past but this is his kid and right now, she is all that matters.

“Dad?” A groggy voice calls to the room.

“Hey kiddo, your Dad went to get you some supplies for when you woke up. We all became worried when you went whiter than a sheet but we managed to get you back. You’ve been sleeping for the last few hours cause you did lose a lot of blood but we’ve monitored you,” I saw, looking down at the young girl on the bed in front of me.

“So did you get enough blood for the spell?” She asks.

“That is nothing you need to worry about. We need you to get back on your feet,” I tell her.

“But you don't need anymore blood?” I chuckle at her, not being able to believe she’s been so concerned with this, but it makes sense.

“No, we don’t need any more blood.” She takes a giant sigh of relief and slumps back into her bed. I smile as I watch her for a moment before I get called.

“Hey Dean, we need your help out here,” Sam calls to me and just as I was about to tell (y/n) I notice she had fallen asleep.

“Okay,” I call back and look down at the young Men of Letters’ daughter and lean down to press my lips on her forehead.

“What do we got?” I say, walking into the main room where the map table sat.

“We have the ingredients for the spell,” Sam says, adding everything together in what looked like a witches cauldron and an ominous purplish hue shown from it. We head out to the coroner's office and find one of the bodies that had their souls taken out and we tip the head back and pour the liquid down the throat. From the esophagus, we could see the hue shining from under the skin and soon, another blinding light encapsulated the room.

“How do you know if it worked?” I say, looking down to the body that seemed no different than a few moments before.

Cass places his hand on the body’s forehead and his eyes closed. He seemed a bit bothered by something but then his expression softened and he opened his eyes again.

“The soul is in there; I’m positive.” He says.

For the rest of the bodies that turned up recently without a soul, we were able to restore each one and bring some closure to the families of the victims. We contacted the families and had them come and see the newness of the bodies of their loved ones. Most people would be against this but because these bodies had been violated, family members wanted to make sure they’re loved ones were being honored as best they could.

“Thank you for restoring my Russell,” a lady said, leaning over to kiss her deceased husband. No one could say a word but a curt nod was all that could be mustered from any of us. This is part of cases we don't get to see. We meet family but we rarely get to see much happiness after the person is gone. Who knew a soul returning to a body could do such a thing?

Back at the Bunker, I go back to check in on Y/N. She was sleeping and I couldn’t help but watch the sore and almost voided women below me. She seemed less pale then when we first got her out of the process of taking her blood for the spell but she still seemed..hollowed in some places. Like her eyes, they were pushed back into her face and her arms and legs seemed as though they didn't have any muscle. How much of her blood did we take?

“Hey you,” she whispers, her eyes slowly moving to look up at me. I couldn’t speak and wanted so badly to kiss her but the way her eyes suddenly changed, I knew something was off.

“You get the hell away from her,” I say, leaning away from who I thought was (y/n) but I know better.

“Aw Dean, why can't we be friends or more since you seem to be in love with (y/n)?” I knew the voice well and just as I thought, (y/n)’s face morphed into him.

“You’re a real bag of dicks, you know that?” I say.

“Yes Dean, I’m aware of how you feel about me and I can’t believe you let this kid distract you from dealing with Daddy dearest,”

I hold back from killing The Trickster here and now and give him an opportunity to explain himself, against my better judgment.

“Well good ol’ Dad decided to send me to try and get you back on track. To bring something close to you to just take it away again.

“What the hell did you do to her?” I say, growing more and more irate.

“Oh relax, she’s fine, she’s just…tied up at the moment.” he says.

“I swear to God I will kill you if you hurt her,”

“Really? I think I can rearrange that since he’s my Father and all,” he says and freezes when I beg for her life again.

“Please, don’t hurt her. She’s all Ketch has anymore.”

“Yes but you don't like him either so why does it matter what happens to (y/n)?”

“Because we all need her on our team; she’s vital to helping solve cases.”

“Are you sure it isn't more than that?” A third voice says, coming into view.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Dean?” A small voice rang out into the silence that had surrounded me in the room. I don’t know how I ended up here but I do know, it wasn’t easy.

“Hey kiddo, you’re okay, it’s all over,” I say, looking over to her. She was much better now, away from the pain of blood being drained from her body, no longer in fear of who may be lurking around the corner.

“What do you mean?” She asks.

“Chuck, he's gone. Dead actually.” I say, still not fully believing it myself.

“You killed God?” She asks, a look of disbelief playing across her delicate features

“Well, not exactly. We killed the vessel Chuck but God himself, he swore he would leave the Earth and not bother Sam or I or anyone we love ever again.

“Oh, so, he can still come back though?”

“No, he can’t. Because I….” My words fade from my vocal cords and I cannot process any thought rushing through my mind at a million miles a second. This was it, this was why I did what I did. Her. She is the reason why Chuck is dead and God is permanently leaving us alone.

“I love you. I know it hasn’t been too long since you’ve been around us or me but I can’t help it. I love you and I want you to know that you are the reason God will leave us alone. If it wasn’t for you, we probably would still be fighting him and there wouldn’t be any peace….we’re free. Sam and I are free after all this time. We finally get to relax and be free to fight for people without having to look over our shoulders everywhere we go because I love you and he will leave us alone now because you are someone I love and….I’m free.” And for the first time in I don’t know how many years, I cried. Not just a small cry, a complete breakdown level of a cry. I guess I had years of pent up agony of having to fight and defend those whom I’ve loved finally come to a boiling point. (Y/N) did the one thing I needed in that moment, something I’ve lacked for many years; affection. She wrapped her arms around me, as tightly as she could, and held me close to her as sobs racked through my entire body. I began to shake violently and all she did was bring me in closer, run her fingers through my hair, and continuously try and shush me in that sweet, comforting way Mom’s do. I’m not sure how long we sat like that but we did until I was silent again. I slowly look up at her, through the tears still sitting in my eyes, and she runs her thumb right under my eye.

“You okay?” She asks, looking at me in a concerning fashion.

“I think so,” my voice was no higher than a whisper because I couldn’t trust myself. I surprised myself with the fact I cried as much as I did but I felt better.

“I love you too,” she says suddenly.

“You do?” I say, disbelief prominent on my face.

“I know it isn't long either, but I do have some pull to you and I cannot deny it. You are the only reason I’m here. I love my Dad, I really do but you are the one who I get up for day and day again. You are the one who protects me like no other. You are the one I want to keep giving blood away for whatever spells or anything else you need. I love your smile, your eyes, your laugh, the way you grumble about anything and everything because you’re getting older but it just melts my heart and I’ve never felt this for anyone.”

It may have seemed like a rather chick flick movie thing for me to do, and believe me, I kicked myself for it, but I couldn’t help it; I had to kiss her. Because for once, someone loved me and there was no way I was going to lose her. Well, aside from the traditional ways of losing someone but there wouldn’t be a douche who tries to take her away, which is way better anyways. Her lips felt so soft and natural when she kissed me and all I wanted to do was kiss her from now on. Who am I turning into? Maybe I’m finally able to learn what its like to care about someone and have someone care for me when in the past, we would have never gotten together or even thought about it but things with Ketch have been different and he hasn’t been after us too much since Chuck started. Now, I somehow ended up falling for his daughter.

“Oh, shit, damn it,” I say, pulling back from our kiss.

“What’s wrong?” She says. “I’m sure you’ve done this before,” she jokes.

“No, I mean yes of course but, you.” I say.

“Me?”

“You’re Ketch’s daughter.”

“We’ll he’s my adopted Dad,” she comments.

“Yeah but he still raised you. What is he going to think of this, of us?” I say, motioning between us.

“He won’t care.”

“Are you sure? I mean we've been fighting with him for years and we just got him on our side.”

“Dean, you’re overreacting. He just wants my happiness. He’s just going to have to deal with it being with you,” she says.

“Fine, then I say we need to tell him and everyone else about us before anything else happens between us.”

She suddenly gets up from where we were sitting in the common room and I jump up to follow her.

“Where are we going?” I say when I catch up with her.

“To tell my Dad.”

“Really?” I ask, not believing she wants to do this now but she stops and grabs my face and kisses me, for a long time.

“Really,” She says after she lets me breathe again.

I follow her into the other room where we see Sam and Ketch at the map table, Sam with a book in his hands and Ketch scrolling through his phone.

“Dad?” (Y/N) says when we are in hearing distance.

“Yeah sweetheart?” Ketch responds, looking up from his phone.

“I’m in love with Dean,” she says with such ease, it brings a smile to my face.

“Oh I know,” he says and goes back to his phone.

“Wait, you know? How?” I ask.

“Because, I see the way you look at her, Dean. And (y/n), I heard you talking to Sam about it.”

“Wait, Sammy, you knew how she felt about me?”

“Yes,”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” I ask.

“She asked me not to,” he says.

“So you’re okay with this?” (Y/N) asks Ketch.

“If he makes you happy, then I’m okay with it.”

“But you hurt her Dean and I swear,” Ketch threatens me.

“Don’t worry man, I couldn’t hurt her. She’s the best thing that ever came out of a perfect storm.”

#dean winchester #dean girl #dean girls #dean x y/n #dean x reader #dean x you #dean fluff #sam winchester #arthur ketch #supernatural family #supravenghit500

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tanoraqui · 2 years

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Just want you to know that your Pseudo-Democratic Valinor post gave me the mental image of Master Samwise Gardner, formerly Gamgee, High King Of The Noldor.

I'm not even mad, that's hilarious to me.

I mean, by the early Fourth Age, the politics of Eldamar are definitely shaped by:

comfortable peace for longer than many people remember

old family feuds that are maintained partly out of real grievance, partly as a hobby

absolutely everybody knows absolutely everybody else, including all newborns

care for simple growing things (as well as, admittedly, elaborately constructed palaces made entirely of gemstones or something)

So...yeah, being High King in early Fourth Age Tirion is probably very much like being Mayor of Hobbiton! Sam would do fine. He came here to retire, though, so he wouldn't want to do it for long... Fortunately, when they semi-accidentally elected Frodo immediately upon his arrival in Valinor (and Frodo really just wanted to retire), they hastily passed a new law stating that, while the usual term for High Kingship is 100 years, in the case of more change- and weariness-prone mortals, it would be one year only.

(How was Frodo "semi-accidentally" elected High King of the Noldor? Well...

Over the years, the High Kingship has become a primarily ceremonial role, though the High King is the only one allowed to declare war and/or blasphemous rebellion on behalf of the Noldor, and might be called upon to decide judicial or moral arguments that lesser kings dispute. Most centuries, the position is held by Arafinwë, on account of historically famous common sense, unassuming but raw badassery, and the tendency of the general Noldorin populace to hew stubbornly to the line of Finwë in leadership positions. ["General Noldorin populace" being at this point roughly defined as, "all those who register to vote for and respect the authority of the High King of the Noldor", with established legal complications involving where people live, what guild they are or are not part of, and also most parts of the political system are experimentally changed every 500 years on average...but the High Kingship remains, because, essentially, everyone is more comfortable with a proven-responsible referee.]

It's usually Arafinwë, but because it's increasingly ceremonial, sometimes someone else is elected as sort of a popular award of great recognition. A painter named Helyanwillë was elected after unveiling her mountainside-sized mural of the Ainulindalë, to gaze upon which brings an echo of the Great Music to mind. The three-elf team who cracked the secrets of generating and taming lightning to run through wires and power things like dishwashers were jointly elected in TA 1200. There was a brief run of electing the old kings of Beleriand circa the 5000th anniversary of Dagor Bragollach: Fingon had a good term, Finrod threw some amazing parties, and then Turgon, after acting exasperated but tolerant in the whole run-up to his election, turned around and exerted the High King's right to not be ceremonial, and redesigned and remodeled the entirety of Tirion, and much of the surrounding infrastructure.

The people elected Arafinwë again after that.

[To be clear, Fingolfin is also around, and probably elected High King once or twice...as a vacation from his usual job, which is whatever title is given, by appointment or election, to the person who is actually doing politics and managing the function of the government. Every couple millennia when they invert the political structure to see what happens and Fingolfin has to win his way to the top again, it's like a pumpkin full of red meat thrown into his enclosure. His chief competition in this is Satarissë, second-youngest daughter of Finrod and Amarië, who ruthlessly leverages her unprecedented levels of Everyone's Favorite Baby Princess power for political advantage.

Every formal governmental structure includes unwritten assumptions about norms, and the Noldor's generally center around an assumption that Fingolfin will be in the upper echelon of management while Arafinwë is the safety net of common sense (eg, "Doom means Doom", "killing is always bad", "only try to 1v1 a Vala when you have immediate backup.") When Fëanor is one day returned from Mandos, people are going to SCRAMBLE to codify those unwritten rules before he breaks them all (again).]

...So, everyone knows the Ringbearers are coming soon, that Galadriel is coming home at last and Elrond is coming home for the first time and also little mortals called hobbits are coming, hobbits who defeated Sauron, which everyone is ??!!?!!! over. And either the timing works out to have an election or they decide to throw out the usual schedule, and the debate is: who do we honor first, Galadriel or Elrond?! Galadriel, our long-lost princess, ever-bold and much favored among the Sindar and Silvan with whom she made her home; we must welcome her! Elrond, heir to so much, host to so many, eagerly awaited by so many he has lost or never got the chance to meet; we must welcome him! Ooh, or what about the hobbits, I mean, they [one of them??] actually defeated Sauron, surely that's worthy of a crown...

The eager, excited debates start the second Barad-Dur hits the ground and the wise and foresightful see a change in the world, confirmed when Círdan sends word ahead [someone sailing earlier? A message in a bottle carried by Ossë?]

Then Findis, daughter of Finwë and Indis, publishes her most recent philosophical dialogue with the Powers of the World. Like many before, it is an account of a recent conversation [eg, yesterday] with Mandos on matters of Fate, Justice, the roles of Elves, Ainur, and stranger things in the Great Music...punishment and pity, forgiveness and forbearance... It concludes, though Mandos entreats her to stop, with her declaration that she is done waiting for a resolution that will never come, she is done tolerating a sentence that is already twice as long as Manwë gave his brother, without opportunity for repentance and reformation; a new Age of peace is dawning and she is willing to risk a little danger in it - so if Mandos doesn't release her half-brother and nephews in the next 100 years, she will find a way to cast her own fëa into utter dissolution in the Void; let not just Mandos but Manwë and Varda hear her words, and Eru hold her to them!

...And before anyone has fully processed that, Elrond, Galadriel, and the hobbits arrive, and on the boat with them, they've brought Maglor. Some people, knowing Elrond either in his youth in the War of Wrath or in his wisdom in later days, aren't surprised that Elrond did this, but Galadriel?!

In the ensuing confusion, the Younger Mr. Baggins election campaign slips through to victory, to the surprise of all and to Frodo's tired and frankly embarrassed dismay. Someone reassures him that it's just ceremonial, except for the authority to declare war, and he just needs to officially "re-appoint" Fingolfin to do the actual governing. This reassures Frodo very little.)

(A few hundred years later, some people are like, "hey, you know, Celebrimbor has been managing his terrible older relatives really well, and obviously his Rings came in CLUTCH for the whole Third Age. We should totally elect him--" To which Celebrimbor says, "oh Lord to Whom All Birds are Sacred, please NO, do NOT do that." To which his supporters says, "alright, let's get Huan elected as an honorable stand-in" and they almost, almost pull it off, but lose out in the end because their candidate a) isn't very good at giving speeches, and b) already has a full-time job being hunting partner/parole officer for Celegorm specifically, but probably he keeps an eye on all the whole Oath-bound family.)

#aman ever after #the silmarillion #samwise gamgee #lotr #feanor and feanor's kin #ficlet

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cantsayidont · 8 days

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In many respects I think THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING is the most cohesive of the Peter Jackson movies. It cuts or rearranges a lot, but generally in ways that are at least defensible, and a couple of its changes are significant improvements. For instance, it streamlines the clumsy bit of business of Frodo putting on the Ring in the Prancing Pony, which in the book is awkwardly handled, and having Aragorn actually witness and bless Frodo's departure at the end sidesteps a lot of the indecision that follows in Book Three (where Aragorn spends many pages agonizing over whether to follow the orcs to save Merry and Pippin or to try to find Frodo, which is wearying because the reader already knows where Frodo and Sam have gone). The movie also picks up the pace to useful effect.

However, the script does introduce a couple of avoidable story flaws:

Having Bilbo visibly aged when Frodo sees him again introduces a plot hole: If age catches up with a Ring-bearer fairly quickly once they no longer possess the Ring, one would expect Gollum (who is over 500 years old) to have crumbled to dust long ago!

It really does not make clear that the Elves are concerned that the destruction of the One Ring will cause the Three to fail, leading to the end of Rivendell and Lothlórien. This might have been dispensable were it not for the fact that the movie version of Galadriel is much more antagonistic to Frodo than she is in the book for precisely that reason (she still refers to his arrival as "the footsteps of doom"). People who aren't familiar with the books are often confused by why Galadriel seems so mean, which even in the Extended Edition relies too much on familiarity with the novel. This wouldn't have needed much to make it clearer, but it needed something.

The fact that Merry and Pippin are Frodo's cousins gets lost (it's mentioned only in passing in the Prancing Pony scene, where it's easily missed), which often leaves new viewers wondering why these two idiots are tagging along. If it were up to me, I'd have Bilbo mention it in his party speech; I think for most viewers, simply stating more clearly, "These are Frodo's younger cousins," would do wonders to clarify their relationship. (Ironically, if the movie had retained the "conspiracy" subplot — where Merry and Pippin actually know about the Ring thanks to Sam and come up with a plan to help Frodo in a reasonably sensible way — this would be less of an issue, since it would be clear that they are his good friends. However, the first movie consistently presents them as obnoxious silly asses, so one might reasonably wonder why Frodo is putting up with them even before they're all running for their lives!)

#movies #hateration holleration #lord of the rings #lotr #the fellowship of the ring #peter jackson #galadriel #merry brandybuck #pippin took #frodo baggins #i don't think there's anything wrong with cutting bombadil #i see the stuff in the old forest and the house of bombadil #as a holdover from an early conception of a probably less expansive story #more similar to the hobbit in tone #since the whole point of tom bombadil in lotr is that he declines to participate in the rest of the narrative #and gandalf later has to explain that there's no point in asking him for more help than he's already given

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gotlostonmywayhome · 4 months

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This has been a slow year for me due to health issues (my own and my family's health not doing so great was all the rage this year), but I still wanted to celebrate that I created fanworks. I love the escapism creating and engaging in fanworks gives me.

I'm still firmly in the Marvel fandom. I was hoping to dip my toe in the Stranger Things and Percy Jackson fandoms, but alas, life had other plans. Fingers crossed I can expand into other fandoms in 2024.

So, in order of publication, my works for 2023:

“It is my duty to keep an eye on you.” (Rated M, ≤500 Moodboard & Short Fic, Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanoff)

Natasha stepped in closer, running her finger along the edge of James’ tie, “I wouldn’t want you to not fulfill your duties.”

If you're gonna have car trouble on a road trip… (Rated T, 1.3k, Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark)

Bucky didn’t set out to upend his life in Indiana or his relationship with his boyfriend. Or thought he would contemplate becoming part of a polyamorous relationship with a married couple in a different state. Life can be funny sometimes.

Vibe Check (Rated T, 1.1K, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark)

Harley and Peter worked too hard to get their dads together for Tony to forget to give Steve flowers.

A Price to Pay (Rated T, ≤1000 Moodboard & Short One-Shot, Loki/Tony Stark)

Stealing from a powerful wizard comes with consequences.

More after the cut...

The Awkward and the OnlyFans (Rated M, 3.6k, Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, for the @silver-fox-steve-bang Valentine Exchange, created for @espressosaur)

A minor disaster with a book display has Steve meeting a handsome man who is clearly flirting with him. But Steve has a feeling he has seen this man before. And there may have been some booty shorts involved.

Stucky Bingo February 2023 Round Robin (Rated G, 1.7k, Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, for the @stuckybingo Round Robin)

When Russian figure skater Bucky Barnes defects, he can only skate for the Team USA if he skates with a partner. What he and Steve Rogers find together on the ice is golden.

Stucky Bingo March 2023 Round Robin (Rated T, 2k, Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, for the @stuckybingo Round Robin)

It wasn’t that he hadn’t noticed Bucky being struck. He’d thrown out his shield to block the worst of the damage from the exploding debris, but he’d noticed Bucky clutching his side throughout the fight. Steve knew. But in the middle of it there had been no opportunity for pause, no moment where he could check that Bucky was okay. He kept moving, and that was what mattered.

Project: Pathfinder (Rated M, Moodboard, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, created for @geekymoviemom)

When Captain America goes missing after a routine Avengers’ mission, leaving Tony Stark and the rest of the world stunned, Peter Parker decides to take it upon himself to try and fill the hole left behind by his absence. But while Peter believes that he’s finally gotten a decent handle on his new powers, he quickly discovers that there’s a lot more to being an unofficial Avenger than the ability to climb walls. Meanwhile, Steve is once again forced to face the demons of his past, all while searching for a way to get back home.

Coming Home (And Finding You) (Rated T, 1.4k, Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, for @clintcoulson appreciation week)

Phil has a rough mission. When he gets home, Clint has all of Phil’s favorites ready.

Not a Stranger in the Wood (Rated G, Digital Art, Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, for @clintcoulson appreciation week)

Clint Bartonguard was shocked to see his former party leader. Phillip had been run through the heart attempting to save Clint from Loki the Trickster's spell.

Family Dinners (Rated G, ≤1000 Moodboard & Short One-Shot, Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, for @clintcoulson appreciation week)

It isn’t many nights they are able to get together like this, but each one Clint carries in his memory like a treasure trove. An uninterrupted dinner with the team.

The Universe is Ridiculous (Rated T, 1.3k, Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, for @clintcoulson appreciation week)

Phil should know better and be careful about what he asks for. Or at least be very specific as to what he asks for. The Universe has a wicked sense of humor and will likely do exactly as wished.

First Gift Given (Rated E, 11k, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark)

Yes, Tony is hiding in a dive bar, but it is for good reasons. Pepper should thank him for not sticking around the Stark Industries board members' schmooze-a-thon. He was bound to piss off someone sooner than later and then she would have to go and make it all better. See, he’s making her life easy by not being there. But Tony wishes he would have picked a better hiding spot. One where a gaggle of college co-eds wasn’t screaming Bon Jovi’s greatest hits at the top of their lungs. It would be pure hell if it weren’t for the gorgeous, blue-eyed possible jail bait flashing Tony sweet, shy smiles across the room. Flirting with college boys is a big no-no, but what’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like Tony’s going to take him home or anything.

Stucky Bingo May 2023 Round Robin (Rated T, 1.7k, Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, for the @stuckybingo Round Robin)

If Steve were honest with himself, he’d been at least as curious as Bucky to discover what had happened to Becca. She’d been the closest thing he’d had to a sister growing up, and he remembered how kind-hearted she was, even if she did get into nearly as much mischief as he and Bucky did along the way.

Steve Rogers and Tony Stark star in Ghosted (Rated T, Digital Art, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark)

The latest movie from Marvel TV+, don’t miss Steve Rogers and Tony Stark in the action packed rom-com Ghosted.

Trying not to lose my sensibility (Rated E, 6.5k, Steve Rogers/TonyStark, for @cap-ironman Stony Loves Steve event)

In the weeks leading up to his heat, Steve rethinks about his relationship with Brock. And his fading friendship with Tony.

The Future is filled with Surprises (Rated M, 1.3k & Moodboard, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, for the @stevetonygames)

A chat on his favorite app has Steve meeting the last person he expected for a hookup.

The Only Time (Rated G, Moodboard & Drabble, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, for the @stevetonygames)

The invitation for another Iron Man Memorial statue arrives in his inbox at 6 AM. Steve has been to more ceremonies honoring his friend in five years since his return than he cares to count, but he attends them all. And at each one, Steve takes a moment to think about the man.

Will Not Be Caught (Yet) (Rated M, Moodboard & Drabble, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, for the @stevetonygames)

Tony knows he will be caught, but that’s the point. He will not make it easy for Steve.

Getting Tony out of the workshop (A Guide) (Rated G, Infographic, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, for the @stevetonygames)

Infographic for Stony writers on how Steve can lure Tony from an inventing binge using food.

A Little Advice (Rated G, Image Edit, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, for the @stevetonygames)

I feel like this is a conversation they had a lot when the team would make them sit up front on their own.

Must Be Tuesday (Rated T, ≤500, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, for the @stevetonygames)

Who needs to treat their husband to a fantastic steak dinner that could satisfy even a super soldier's appetite when Dr. Doom threatens the end of the world? Again.

Late Meeting (Rated M, Moodboard & Drabble, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, for the @stevetonygames)

Sex in Tony’s office always excites him, and marks are usually left behind. Steve doesn’t mind.

#masterlist #2023 masterlist #girl back there #gbt fanworks #fan fics #fan art #fan works #stony #stucky #all caps #frostiron #winterwidow #phlint #stuckony

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the-monkey-ruler · 7 months

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Into the Badlands (2015) 荒原

Director: David Dawkin Screenwriter: Alfred Goff / Miles Millar / Michael Jones-Morales Starring: Daniel Wu / Emily Beacham / Sarah Burger / Ola Brady / Marton Cocks / Aramis Knight / Madeline Mantock / Alan Holman / Stephen Lang / Morgan Benoit / Eddie Gaethje / Sam Medina / Shane Graham / Lance E. Nichols / Owen Hahn / Starlett· Miaglioni / Johns Myers Genre: Action / Adventure Official website: www.amctv.com/shows/into-the-badlands Country/Region of Production: United States Language: English Date: 2015-11-15 (USA) Number of seasons: 3 Number of episodes: 32 Single episode length: 60 minutes Also known as: Deep into the Badlands / 深入恶土 / Deserted Land / 荒芜之地 / Into the Dangerous Lands / 深入险地 / In Bad Lands / 穷山恶水 / American Version of Journey to the West / 美版西游记 / Badlands IMDb: tt3865236 Type: Reimanging

Summary:

Daniel Wu plays the motorcycle-riding Sun Wukong, a brave warrior named Sunny who escorts a young teen called M.K. with a heavy responsibility (Tang Monk) in search of the legendary Paradise. In a postapocalyptic world approximately 500 years in the future, war has left civilization in ruins. Some elements of technology, such as electricity and ground vehicles, have survived the apocalypse, but society now shuns firearms, leading to a reliance on melee weaponry and crossbows.

In a territory known as the Badlands, encompassing several states located between the Rocky Mountains and Mississippi River, a feudal society has developed to fill the power vacuum left by the war. Barons control land and monopolies over commodities like opium and fuel, trading amongst themselves to maintain the peace. Each baron is served by a massive workforce of slaves called cogs, as well as a prostitute class called dolls. A baron maintains power through an army of young men and women called clippers: highly trained and loyal warriors, clippers are forbidden from marrying and having children lest their loyalties be divided. Each clipper force is captained by a regent.

Several groups exist outside the strict hierarchy of the barons. Nomads are the most common, mostly lawless homicidal bandits who subsist on stealing from trade convoys between the baronies but some live in organized clans. The River King and his men control water trade in the Badlands and beyond, and is considered a neutral party in the barons' power struggles. An ascetic religious movement called the Totemists is also shown to exist on the fringes of society, living in isolated communities and practicing a form of idol worship. The Widow leads a revolutionary group of anti-feudal fighters from her late husband's barony; although nominally recognized as a baron by her peers, they do not respect her, and the contempt is mutual.

Little is known of the world beyond the Badlands, but it is implied that it is far less politically stable yet environmentally sound like the Badlands. The mythical utopian city of Azra is believed to exist outside the Badlands, but most dismiss it as a legend.

Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Into_the_Badlands_(TV_series)

Link: N/A

#Into the Badlands #荒原 #Deep into the Badlands #Deserted Land #Into the Dangerous Lands #In Bad Lands #American Version of Journey to the West #Badlands #jttw media #jttw television #television #lost media #live action #reimagining #alternative universe #sun wukong cameo #tang sanzang #zhu bajie

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d4rkhold · 1 year

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the quietest crescendo (Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader) - Chapter 2

CHAPTER OVERVIEW: Your feelings for your new piano tutor are becoming more intense, and the tension between the two of you starts to grow. You have your first lesson with her today.

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

WARNINGS: None in this chapter.

A/N: I deeply apologise for taking many months to post this chapter... I was stressed with exams and other uni stuff - it was not a fun time. I hope you all enjoy this chapter (and I assure you it won't take 500 years for me to put out Chapter 3). Many thanks to the two new people that beta-read some parts of this chapter. Lots of love for those guys!!

[Also my musical knowledge is not super good, so please excuse any parts that don't make sense...]

“Oh, I enjoyed that one.” You said with a polite smile as you placed the receipt on top of the book. “I think it’s one of my favourite books I’ve read this year.” The customer — a man who looked to be in his mid-thirties with sandy-brown hair, thanked you gratefully and said that he was looking forward to reading his new purchase before leaving the store.

It was usually quiet like this on a Saturday morning; Friday night party-goers were probably hungover, and sleep-deprived students were catching up on all the few precious hours of sleep they could get. The bookstore you’ve worked at for the past year and a half was a ten-minute walk from your apartment and wasn’t too far from campus either. It looked sorely out of place compared to its neighbouring stores of fluorescent lights and bright colours that grabbed one’s attention from afar. Whereas the bookstore stood humble on the street with its ivy-coloured paint on senile bricks and a display window showing a handful of novels under this month’s theme, which was murder mysteries. If one entered the store, they would suddenly be subjected to the chorus of the brown hues of the wooden floorboards and shelves that reached the ceiling — stacked with an abundance of books of countless genres.

You enjoyed your job — apart from the fact that you had to start early on some days when you would’ve very much preferred to be sleeping in. And unfortunately, today was one of those days.

“Y/N, are you able to do me a favour?” John Collins, your boss, called out from across the store. He appeared to be restocking the classical literature shelves. You walked over to him, rubbing your eyes as you saw the boxes of books by his feet. The word “CLASSICAL” was scribbled in big red letters on all of them.

“Of course. What’s up?” You watched as he opened a box which revealed a dozen books neatly packed together.

“Are you able to close up on Monday evening? I know it’s not your usual shift, but Sam says his parents are visiting from overseas for a few days and wants to know if someone could cover his shift.”

You told him that you would be more than happy to close up on Monday. The bookstore was one of your favourite places. When you first got the job, you weren’t surprised at how quickly you fell in love with it, and you knew you would never get sick of being surrounded by the copious amount of colourful spines on wooden shelves. Mr Collins was also a cordial boss, which you were incredibly grateful for, as in the past you did have a few bosses that would make you slightly dread going to work. Mr Collins gave his employees an awfully generous discount that made you question if he was actually allowed to do that. Well, you couldn’t complain as it encouraged you to bring home a new book with you every week.

---

The weekend had gone by quite quickly, and it was already Monday, and you were back in the bookstore after finishing your lectures for the day. Monday evenings were your shortest shift, but today you had to work until closing time. This evening, you were placing price tags on some new books that the store had received earlier today.

The sun was starting to go down, hurrying to trade places with the moon, afraid it would be left behind in the night sky. You found it quite lovely that Mr Collins allowed the shop to stay open until late into the evening. It added a nice touch to the atmosphere, making the whole book-shopping experience more serene.

Cross-legged on the floor, you ran a hand over the cover of the book in your hands before placing a price tag on it and adding it to the stack next to you. The shop door opened; however, you looked up just a beat too late, only catching the fabric of a dark-coloured coat drifting behind a bookshelf near the front of the store. Maybe you might ask if they needed any help finding a particular book.

You were just about to place the price tag on the last novel you had to do for the horror shelf and find whoever had entered the store when you suddenly heard a low hum from behind you.

“What a pleasant surprise this is….” A familiar voice caused you to cease your actions, causing a sticker reading “£12” to linger on the tip of your forefinger, frozen in time just like you were at that moment. When you turned around and looked up, you were suddenly reminded of the weight those cerulean-blue eyes held as they gazed down at you.

Agatha Harkness was there, and she loomed over you like a lamp post that flickered in its luminescence during the ungodly hours of the night. You crouched there on the ground in silence for what felt like ages — like a worshipper at the altar of God, gathering and preparing their thoughts before a prayer. But you knew a follower of God would most likely feel a sense of serenity as they prayed to a holy being — whereas you, on the other hand, felt an unruly knot of fire starting to coil in the pit of your stomach at the very sight of the woman who you had consecrated in the back of your mind.

Oh, how oblivious you were to the Devil as he shuffled his deck of cards, observing the game with a smug look plastered on his face. It seemed that he had nothing better to do these days.

Today, Agatha was wearing a dark purple coat and a cream-coloured scarf which was draped around her neck several times. You contemplated how good the colour purple looked on her and noted the traces of sweet lavender essence that filled your senses when she was near.

“Professor Harkness… What brings you here?” A small curve formed on her lips at your formalness.

Perhaps you had forgotten how to stand up at that moment — or that your nervousness had tied you to the ground below your feet, relentless in not letting you go. This is how you felt around the woman — entrapped and enticed by her being; a prison where you would willingly stay, a key you were happy to lock the door with and swallow it whole afterwards. She fuelled a strange feeling in you — a cryptic ache in your stomach you could not decipher every time she looked at you.

“I had finished work for the day a little bit earlier than I had anticipated and decided to take a stroll through the city.” She turned her head towards the front of the store, and you watched as the remaining fragments of sunlight trickled onto her face and cascading brown hair. The older woman then turned her attention back onto you. “I then happened to stumble upon a bookstore that was still open during this time of the day.”

You chuckled nervously, meeting her gaze. “Yeah, it is a bit strange that we’re still open at a time like this. But I think it’s really nice to be in a bookstore while the sun goes down in the background. It’s really beautiful.”

She hummed in agreement, her eyes never leaving yours.

You looked away and found yourself checking your watch for the time in an attempt to escape being subjected to Agatha’s fiery blue-eyed gaze any longer, despite craving it so much. You feared that the longer her eyes were set on you, the faster she would scratch the surface of your composed façade and read your mind of the thoughts you had of her.

“What time do you finish tonight, dear?” You embarrassingly realised that the price tag was still on your fingertip, which caused you to quickly place it on the book's cover and settle it onto the pile near your side. You rechecked your watch as if you hadn’t just checked it a minute ago. “In about 15 minutes.”

As you rose to your feet, you looked at the ground as if it was so interesting all of a sudden. “And it looks like I have to start closing up.”

“Do you mind if I keep you company?” Your eyes shot up to meet hers, and you felt the beating pace of your heart quicken. She quirked an eyebrow, waiting for a response from you.

“Oh, not at all.”

You cleaned the shop: dusted the shelves, vacuumed the floor and counted the till. It was greatly appreciated that the remaining customers had started to leave the store on their own and that you didn’t have to awkwardly remind them that it was near closing time. Agatha was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, watching as you finished up for the day. You offered to give her a chair, but she declined, saying she had already been sitting down all day.

You didn’t notice that your nervousness temporarily subsided as you and your new piano tutor talked — mostly her taking the lead in the conversation (which you were grateful for). You learnt that she used to compete professionally but had stopped a few years ago to lead ensembles and teach students, which reminded you of your former tutor.

Agatha spoke about the most ordinary things, such as how dramatic the weather was in this city and that she desperately needed a glass of wine when she got home. However, that didn’t stop you from trying to cling onto every word that left her mouth. You could not understand why you felt this way.

And when she asked you about why you chose to play the piano, you gave her your little ramble about how your mother used to play and how she wanted you to follow in her footsteps. Agatha did not reply, for all you earned was a slight hum and an indecipherable expression from the older woman.

The night started to settle down; its blackness oozed across the skyline, painting it the darkest of colours and scattered pin-pricks of stars across its canvas. The city's buzzing atmosphere from earlier today had finally died down as most people had finished work by now, and nobody really went out to the city on a Monday night.

Once you made sure that you had done everything you needed to do, you told Agatha that you could now lock up the store. You made your way to the front, holding the door open for her and smelling her faint saccharine scent as she walked past you. With a flick, the lights inside the shop went off, and you fished out a key from your back pocket and proceeded to lock the door.

“Well… Goodnight Professor. I’ll see you on Friday.” You bid her a shy smile. “Thank you for keeping me company.”

“No worries, dear. It was my pleasure.” Heat rose to your collarbones at the pet name, and you were thankful for the darkness of the night, as you probably were starting to become crimson all over. “Now, how are you getting home?” The older woman asked as she pulled out something from her coat pockets.

“Oh, I don’t live too far from here, so I normally just walk. It’s just a few blocks away.”

She tsked at you. “There’s no way I’m letting you walk home alone in the dark.”

“It’s no problem; I’ve never had any trouble walking home from work.” You shrugged.

“Well, if you want to be like that….” You squinted and saw that she was putting on her signature black gloves, and not long after, you felt her gloved-hand tug at your bare one. “Darling, where’s your place? I am going to walk you home.” You opened your mouth to protest but were interrupted by the older woman.

“Do not argue with me.” She replied sternly and gently pulled you onto the sidewalk where lamp posts dimly lit the now-empty streets. You could see a few buildings draped in the glows of neon lights from shop signs and trees that stood along the sidewalk, casting silhouettes of outstretched arms of branches onto the road below.

When she let go of your hand, you found yourself missing the momentary contact between skin and glove — a superimposition of fire and ice. A heart was set ablaze — which was yours, and her cold enticing demeanour somehow was like lighter fluid that started to provoke the sporadic flame that caressed the edges of your heart within you. You wondered how she would react if she discovered that most of your thoughts had her name plastered all over them these days.

The walk back to your apartment was a silent one. The only loudness was when Agatha looked at you once in a while as the two of you walked side by side. You would notice her looking at you, and when you tried to catch her gaze, you would always be a second too late and miss it.

“What?” You turned to look at her, searching for answers in her indecipherable expression.

A soft upwards curve formed on her lips. “Nothing.”

You enjoyed the comfortable silence. However, you wondered what she was thinking about when she kept turning her head to look at you. Maybe she was still baffled that you were fine with walking back home alone at night, or maybe she was thinking about something piano related, and how proficient you were at playing — or perhaps she was just contemplating what bottle of wine she would drink when she got home.

A dog barked in the night, and the sound of autumn leaves scuttled on the pavement, lightly rustling in their path as the two of you turned a corner. As you approached your place, you searched your bag for your apartment key.

“How are you getting home?” She only chuckled at your question. You didn’t think what you said was funny.

“Darling, you don’t need to worry about me.”

---

Only a handful of days had passed since your encounter with your new piano tutor. Everything from that evening had never left your mind, causing all your thoughts to fumble around the place, distracting you from your everyday activities, which now seemed to be more mundane than usual.

You tried to push the thought of her to the back of your mind, but somehow you always found your thoughts drifting towards the older woman who was so mysterious and alluring. Along with those minor distractions, you had not told any of your friends yet — but you wouldn’t be surprised until someone like Darcy figured out that something was up with you. It would only be a matter of time until you would have to come clean.

Darcy and Bucky were over at your place today. It was a Thursday afternoon, and you three had decided to grab a few pizzas and do some studying together at yours after lectures had finished for the day.

“What!? Nah… I’m pretty sure that assignment was only worth 10%.” Bucky scoffed as he took another slice of pizza from the box that was laid on the coffee table.

Darcy sighed, clearly unamused at his uncertainty. “Are you serious? The professor literally said multiple times before the due date that it was worth 20%.”

Your eyes were fixated on the view outside of your apartment window, deep in thought. Your friends were sitting around the table on the floor, debating about assignments and tests. However, at that moment, the world around you started to melt away, your mind wandering back to the woman with eyes as blue, cold and captivating as the Antarctic Ocean.

You thought about Agatha walking you to your apartment that night and how her gloved hand ran down the length of your arm as she bid you goodnight — her mouth terribly close to the shell of your ear. You could smell the lavender scent that she usually wore, but this time, you were so close to its source, swearing that the perfume particles had her name written all over them.

And you stood there on the front porch of your place, watching her as she drifted away into the night, her hands in her pockets and her silhouette trailing after her. The streets were so unusually quiet that you were even able to hear the faint clicking of her boots against the concrete, fading away with each step.

And you had waited.

Waited for her to look back at you.

Even just once.

Oh, but she never did.

Soon you couldn't hear the bickering of academia between your two friends, only then realising that they had stopped talking as all eyes were on you.

“Earth to Y/N? Hellooooo, are you there?” A waving hand in front of your face abruptly pulled you out of your daydream.

Darcy squinted in your direction, crossing her arms with a suspecting look on her face. “Is there something you would like to share with the class? Because I really think there is something distracting you.”

You rolled your eyes and elbowed her side. “Oh, shut up, Darcy. I’m fine.” You shifted awkwardly in your seat. “It’s just been a busy week, that’s all, and I’m just stressed about all the assignments coming up.”

She continued to stare you down, slightly unconvinced at your response, but she decided not to push further. You knew that later she would attempt to pry something out of you. “As I was saying before….” Darcy blinked a few times before continuing. “I even asked someone last week, and they said that it was worth 20%. Y/N, what do you think?”

You nodded and hummed half-attentively, still partially lost in your thoughts. “Yeah, 20% sounds right.” You heard Bucky groan next to you as Darcy playfully shoved his side in supposed triumph.

---

In your peripheral vision, you could see that she was standing by the window as her back faced you. Your fingers lightly danced on piano keys as you played Für Elise for the fourth time during today’s lesson. Annoyingly, you still hadn’t grasped the piece's second section, and at this point, you were almost convinced that Beethoven had cursed you. However, Agatha reprimanded you, saying that it takes hours and hours of practice for pianists even to play a single piece half-decently.

After finishing the section, along with making some small mistakes, your tutor finally turned around, hands intertwined behind her back. You waited for her to speak — to say anything. You inhaled, holding the air in your chest momentarily before exhaling a shallow breath.

Did you play well? Was it okay? Or did you just completely slaughter one of Beethoven's profound pieces?

Today she was wearing a dark violet waistcoat with a beige shirt underneath and black trousers. You watched as she buried both hands into her pockets and made her way towards you in silence. You swallowed, realising she still had not commented on how you played just then. You looked back at your music book, where the corners of the pages were bent and crinkled from shoving it into your bag so many times. There were also tiny annotations in pencil; sections of notes were circled, and small reminders crawled on the margins of the page, reminding you to execute mezzo fortes and to adjust your pace at certain parts.

Something had undeniably shifted in the air — perhaps it was that invisible chord of palpable tension or the thick film of an enigma that surrounded a certain brunette finally being cut. Your suspicion was confirmed when suddenly you felt a thigh graze against yours; the unexpected contact almost made you jump in your seat. She had sat down next to you on the stool, and — good lord — the sheer proximity between you and the older woman suddenly made your entire body freeze.

Her gaze was set forward, ignoring the slightly flushed look she knew would probably be plastered all over your face. She straightened her back and hovered her hands over the keys for a moment before delving into the piece as if the most delectable meal was suddenly set out in front of her. You’ve heard that Agatha Harkness did not leave room for any sort of clemency when she played the piano.

You watched as pale, slender fingers started to move with grace, coaxing gentle melodies out of the piano. She was decisive with her movements and never once faltered or fell victim to silly mistakes as you usually did. Beethoven would have been in awe of the subtle aristocracy she poised as she flaunted her competence with the piano so effortlessly — dominating the piece so flawlessly. She was in her element, and you took in each of her manoeuvres, wishing you could embed the spectacle in front of you into the back of your mind to replay over and over endlessly.

It couldn’t be helped, but you were envious at that very moment of how that creature of wood and ivory received so much attention from the woman that was Agatha Harkness. The mere object being subjected to her physical craftsmanship and commanded by the pianist herself — it simply was not fair.

She altered between E’s and D-sharps, executing the diminuendo and taking her time with it. She did not rush; her tempo was perfectly steady. When she had to reach over to play a section of relatively low chords, her arm brushed against yours, causing the air to freeze in your chest momentarily. For all you knew, the corners of her mouth subtly quirked upwards, a small smirk playing on her face as she knew that the piano wasn’t the only thing in the room willing to give in to her.

You continued to watch her perform, focusing on how her hands moved so delicately and swiftly. The end of the song was approaching near, and you already started to wish that you could relive the moment once again. She was bizarre — one could not simply just continue with their day after witnessing a woman like Agatha Harkness thoroughly wring out the most refined melodies from the piano. They’d be entranced for what would feel like an eternity — not just from how she plays that beast made of ivory, but also from the timeless beauty and peculiar aura she carried with her wherever she went.

When she finished playing, there was a long silence before either of you spoke. Just as you were about to open your mouth to compliment her performance, she cleared a throat and began to get straight to the point about how you had played before her.

“You need to work on your crescendo, dear.” She turned to face you, observing the star-struck expression on your face. “I fear you play too monotonously. And at the end of the section, you play it too fast.”

Your brain had not properly processed her criticism, as you and your mind were preoccupied with attempting to play back her breathtaking performance that just happened a few minutes ago. “You play so beautifully, Professor Harkness.” The words that left your mouth sounded meek to your own ears.

She only smiled at you.

“Now, let’s try that section one more time, shall we?”

---

You sailed through the first section smoothly, maintaining a steady pace as you approached the second section of Für Elise for what felt like the 50th time today. The first section of the piece was never a big struggle for you as it was quite repetitive and more gentle in a sense, compared to the other sections.

You were coming up to the parts that contained crescendo where it mattered most — and this time, you reminded yourself to execute it more audibly and with more vigour. You needed to get this part right; you couldn’t mess it up this time. Raw focus ignited within you, causing your surroundings to ooze away until all you could think about was how you would redeem your attempts of homage to Beethoven. A puff of air escaped your lips as you momentarily flexed your fingers before diving into the second section, head and heart, in a wary combination: the former — a source of an adequate amount of determination and the latter being your internal metronome.

Wrists dropped delicately, and your back straightened. You entered the section, treading carefully and caressing the keys as if it were one’s lover. However, you did not abandon the slight ferocity that was needed to ensure that there was a balance of both elegance and intensity in Für Elise.

“Good girl. Keep going; you’re doing well.” The unexpected praise almost made you slip up on the current stave you were playing, but you forced yourself to remain composed in order to avoid humiliating yourself in front of your tutor, either by screwing up Beethoven's music or fainting right next to the older woman.

It seemed to you that your current playthrough of the current section was an improvement compared to your previous attempts. You hadn’t stumbled on any parts this time, and you managed to keep up with the tempo consistently throughout the piece. You heard the older woman beside you hum in seeming delight, causing a slight grin to form on your face as your silent speculations were confirmed. Your breath hitched in your throat as you suddenly felt a hand rest upon your knee, rubbing gentle circles encouragingly just as you started to near the end of the section. Time felt like it had slowed down; each passing second felt like aeons of lingering contact between her skin and the material of your jeans.

A few beats passed until you realised that you had finished the piece and that her hand wasn’t on you anymore; it was as if it had never been there in the first place. It could’ve been that your admiration for Agatha had caused your brain to conjure a cruel hallucination on you — a mockery to tease you of the fruits you could never reach from the tree.

“Better than before. But there’s still more work to be done.” She got up abruptly and headed towards the window with her hands behind her back. “Other than that, you are progressing well with that second section.”

You swallowed. “Thank you, professor. I’m glad to hear that.” That stupid beating heart of yours was seriously going to be the death of you. It felt as if it was going to bore a hole through the layers of your chest and jump out the window right there and then.

“You may go now.” Her back was now facing you as she looked through the panes of glass. “I’ll see you next week.”

You grabbed your bag, ignoring the incessant heat that was starting to simmer over your collarbones. God, you had to get out of that room immediately before something ridiculous could happen, such as spontaneously exploding or melting into a puddle of skin, bone and blood. It wouldn’t be very nice for the cleaners to have to clear that up, you thought to yourself.

The Devil clasped his hands as he knew he had played his cards correctly. You — the mere doe-eyed deer — were finally caught in the hunter’s trap without knowing it. Agatha Harkness was a seductress for the eyes and ears; she could kill two birds with one stone if she wanted to. And you? You were taking damage but enjoyed every single blow she cast upon you.

During the heat of the moment, paired with a strong tendency to rush out of the music building, unbeknownst to you, you had forgotten your music book that was still sitting on the piano. It was only when you arrived home and emptied your belongings from your bag that you realised you had left it. You didn’t really feel like going back to fetch it, as you could manage without it for the rest of today. You figured that you would just pop in tomorrow morning to pick it up. It was no big deal.

#agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #wandavision #agatha x reader #coven of chaos #agatha coven of chaos #marvel #agatha harkness smut #agatha all along #agatha wandavision #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness imagine #marvel au #kathryn hahn

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