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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

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If I Fell For You (Part 1) - The Nanny

Summary: The reader interviews for a new live-in nanny position with Jensen and quickly gets the job but she starts to slowly see that her new employer is going to be different than any other she’s had before...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Square: Slow Burn

Word Count: 4,800ish

Warnings: language, mention of death of a spouse/death of a parent

A/N: Please enjoy the first part of this series! This was also written for @supernatural-jackles Tell Me A Story Bingo!

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If someone had said you’d be celebrating your 30th birthday by accepting an interview to be a live in nanny when you were a kid, you would have told them they were nuts. Beyond nuts. Beyond help for that matter.

But there you were. Thirty. Single. Childless. Taking care of other people’s families and not doing much else with your life. You weren’t sure if your mom would have been on you about the no kids thing or the no boyfriend thing more to be honest.

But the pay was normally good and sometimes great and it gave you a taste of family, even if you were just the help to the adults most of the time.

You buzzed the button by the gate at the end of the driveway, a brief moment passing before it opened. It was probably on a timer like most of the people you’d worked for before, an alarm system kicking on at some point in the evening that required a buzz in, the code or a car sensor. You drove down the driveway and parked a little behind a black SUV. The house was a little modern, a little grand, a little overwhelming. A fence and lots of trees surrounded the property. The yard appeared large but you could see houses on either side. Private but suburban.

The cadillac wasn’t a shocker. Most everyone in these neighborhoods had Escalades. You walked past an open garage on the way up, a muscle car and a more modest smaller SUV parked inside. You went up the very short path and stepped up, ringing the doorbell and fixing your shirt. You were in jeans and a plain gray shirt. It was your normal wear for chasing small children around all day and you weren’t a fan of uniforms.

“Hi,” said a very tired, very handsome man as he opened the door. “You must be from Nanny Core.”

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N from Home Pair,” you said with a smile. He shut his eyes and leaned his head against the door.

“The last girl was from Nanny Core,” he said. He blinked them open and shook his head. “I’m so sorry. Yes, Y/N. You’re the one that’s a consultant, not firmly associated with Home Pair, right?”

“Correct,” you said as he opened the door more and you stepped inside.

“Can I ask what the distinction is?”

“Mostly it has to do with benefits,” you said. “Consultants pay out of pocket for their own or negotiate with their client for those to be covered.”

“Gotcha,” he yawned. You looked ahead and he wiped his hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I must seem like an ass.”

“You seem tired is all Mr. Ackles. Not a crime,” you said with a smile. He nodded and he returned it, no fake cheesiness to it.

“Mind if we do the interview in the kitchen over a cup of coffee?” he asked.

“Wherever you like, sir,” you said. You took off your shoes when you noticed he didn’t wear any inside and he chuckled as you walked back farther into the house.

“Uh, for the record, call me Jensen. None of that sir stuff. They must teach that at nanny school or something huh?” he said, motioning to a table. “I noticed all of you do it.”

“Something like that,” you said. You took a seat and watched him go to a coffee machine, fumbling with it before he spilled some ground coffee on the counter. He shut his eyes and gripped the counter’s edge, taking a deep breath to himself. “How about I make the coffee and you take a seat, hm?”

“I’m okay,” he said as he opened his eyes.

“Well making you coffee is probably going to come up in my job quite a bit so consider this part of the interview. It’s alright, really,” you said. He glanced over to you and you smiled.

“Thank you,” he said. You swapped places with him and got him a cup going, taking a mug off the counter and waiting a beat before liquid started pouring out. “I’m gonna ask you the same question I’ve asked all seven other women I’ve talked to today.”

“Yes?”

“Why should I trust you to watch my children?”

“Honestly?” you asked as he nodded. You smiled and carried the cup over to him, Jensen taking a long sip. “You shouldn’t.”

“I shouldn’t. That seems counterproductive.”

“I wouldn’t trust any stranger with my child. Trust is earned, not given. I think the real question is do you believe I’m capable of earning that trust with you and that’s something intrinsically only you know.”

“How so?”

“You meet a lot of different kinds of people with this job. My gut reaction to you is stressed, overwhelmed, sleep-deprived father who doesn’t really want any nanny at all but is forced into this situation. It’s going to be impossible for you to trust any of the seven woman from earlier or me off the bat, Jensen. You should be thinking of who will you come to trust. Who can you count on.”

“This is why my wife should have been the one doing this,” he said, smiling to himself as he drunk down most of the hot liquid.

“We could always re-schedule for when she’s available.”

“Oh, we’d have to wait a very long time for that,” he chuckled. He sat the mug down and glanced down briefly, smiling as he looked up. “She passed away unexpectedly six months ago. Car accident.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you said. He nodded and made a face like he wanted to make a comment. “My mom died kinda unexpectedly. I know it’s...harder.”

“You’re young. How old?”

“Turned thirty today,” you said. He laughed and you heard the life behind it, Jensen shaking his head.

“Well Happy Birthday. I meant with your mother though. If that’s okay with you I mean.”

“It’s fine. I was sixteen,” you said.

“That...fucking sucks doesn’t it?”

“So does losing your wife,” you said.

“Yes it does. I’ve grieved. We all have. The kids are small. They’ll be okay.”

“Is dad okay?” you asked.

“Yes. Ready to start moving on with life again,” he said with a soft smile. “You’re kind. Not in a I’m trying to get this job kind of way. Just kind.”

“Well being cruel doesn’t sound like very much fun,” you said.

“You’re not trying to impress me.”

“The first rule of nannying, Jensen. You think you’re interviewing us when in reality we’re interviewing you too.”

“How am I doing so far?”

“Nice coffee choice,” you said with a smile that he nodded at. “You respect people. You’ll employ me but won’t treat me like I’m second class. You’re checking the boxes so far.”

“What if I don’t check all the boxes?”

“You don’t get to know the luxury of knowing the answer yet, Mr. Ackles,” you said. “Interview isn’t over.”

“You got fucked over by somebody, didn’t you.”

“Also perceptive,” you said. “Like I said, I don’t tolerate being treated unkindly anymore. It’s why I left my last position.”

“I have one more question,” he said. “Would you treat my children like they’re your own?”

“Again, asking the wrong question,” you said. He sat back and crossed his arms, smirking at you.

“What exactly should I be asking?”

“Will you treat my children kindly and with respect but take charge when required?”

“What’s the difference?”

“One is me doing my job and the other is me doing yours.”

“How old did you say you were again?”

“Thirty today.”

“Right. Well I think I know where I stand. Do you have anything for me?”

“Can you show me a picture of your kids?” you asked. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. “You answered my question.”

“I didn’t show you anything yet.”

“You’d be surprised how many fathers I’ve met don’t carry pictures of their children in their wallets. That one is just a me thing.”

“Your dad do that?” he asked as he tucked it away.

“Maybe,” you said with a shrug. He was polite enough to not go down that route though and this was already getting more personal than you anticipated. “I think I know where I stand as well.”

“I’d like to hire you,” he said.

“Assuming our negotiations go well, I accept,” you said. He held out his hand over the table and you shook it.

“I did come up with what I thought was fair for salary and benefits. Let me go grab the paperwork and hopefully settle on something,” he said. He excused himself and you looked around the house, already trying to familiarize yourself with things. He was more relaxed when he returned with some papers and a notebook, handing you a few sheets. “If I’m missing anything let me know. I-”

“This is my weekly rate?” you asked when you saw the number at the top of the page.

“Oh no. That’s your daily,” he said as he took a seat. “So I think that’s-”

“Jensen,” you said, pushing the paper back. “I have to ask, things like insurance, are those coming out of your pocket or mine?”

“I’ll cover the expenses of your health, dental, all of that. You just choose and I’ll subsize it as part of your paycheck,” he said.

“This is for a live in position. Um...can you just...explain what makes up that daily rate number?” you asked.

“It’s simply your base pay. Obviously I pay for housing, utilities, gas obviously. I will get you a credit card to make purchases with for the kids and all of that so it’s simple to keep track of. You’re free to any of the food in the kitchen. I’m guessing the salary is the sticking point here.”

“Jensen,” you said as you scratched your head.

“I can go up fifty more dollars a day.”

“Jensen. This is way, way too much money. Way too much,” you said. “The average rate around here is about twenty five an hour or two hundred a day. Jensen this is double that. Are you factoring in like time and a half for additional nights and weekends?”

“No. That’d be on top of that. I thought that was a fair value based on the fact you are going to be taking care of the most valuable things in my life. It’s gonna get taxed too so it’s not like you see all of it.”

“You’re sweet, Jensen,” you said, writing down a number at the top of the page. “The average in Austin is twenty five an hour. I would be very happy with that.”

“You have to literally be the first person in existence to negotiate their salary down from the offer,” he said.

“Are you rejecting my offer?” you asked. He took the paper and crossed your number out, jotting down his own and spinning it back. “Jensen.”

“Y/N,” he said, crossing his arms. “I came down. Now it’s your turn. Do you accept?”

You knew thirty five was still way overpriced for the job, especially considering everything else he was paying for.

“I will accept on the condition that you get four hours of what we’d call evening or weekend at the normal rate ever week.”

“I can agree to that,” he said with a smile, writing that down. “So medical plan. Single, plus one, family?”

“Single for all that,” you said.

“I should mention that there is an in-law suite off to the other side of the garage where you’ll be staying. It’s just down the hall but it has its own small living area and kitchenette. There is a separate entrance to it. If you have guests over I just ask you keep them to your area of the house,” he said.

“Absolutely. I don’t tend to bring people over much anyways while I’m on the job,” you said. He let you read over the rest of the benefits, a good amount of sick and vacation time too. Technically you were free evenings and weekends but he could ask you to work longer if he needed you and you were available. Overall everything seemed in order. “Alright. Everything looks good to me.”

“Awesome. Are you available to start Monday?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said. “It gives me plenty of time to move in things tomorrow so I can jump into the kids routine first thing Monday.”

“Perfect,” he said. “I’ll show you around. We can start with your side of the house.” You got up and followed him over to near the front door and down a long hallway, past a set of doors. There was a frosted glass one to your left just before he pushed open a wide white one.

Behind it was a living area and kitchen. Not huge, about the size of a small apartment. There was a TV and sectional, a table tucked against the wall and a kitchenette like he’d mentioned with full size appliances.

“Like I said, I know it’s small. Please like, seriously watch TV out in the family room at night if you want or hang out wherever or the yard or pool. This is just your own space when you want to be away from us.” You hummed and he showed you a closet and then a bedroom and bathroom. It was simple but decorated nicely and looked relaxing. “If there’s something obvious I’m missing please let me know. A cleaning service does come by every two weeks on Tuesdays at around ten in the morning. They’ll do in here too. Otherwise you can keep after yourself. Cleaning stuff is in the laundry room. Oh yeah. Um, this is probably the last time I’ll like, ever come in here unless you need help moving things in since this will be your space.”

“Thanks. I don’t have too much. I do have one request before we sign all the paperwork.”

“What’s that?”

“I’d like to meet the kids if that’s alright. There’s not much point in hiring me if they hate me.”

“Fair point. We’ll get ‘em over here and then get you all squared away.”

Monday Morning

“Good morning,” you said, a cup of coffee in your hand already as Jensen yawned.

“Morning,” he mumbled. His hair was a mess and he was in only a pair of boxer briefs before he paused and looked down. “I should probably put on some clothes.”

“This is your house. Wear whatever you normally would. Pretend I’m invisible,” you said as you poured a cup of coffee into a mug for him.

“Sounds like you worked for some real assholes,” he said, graciously taking the cup. “As long as it doesn’t bother you, me walking around in my undies.”

“No, not at all,” you said with a smile. “Would you like me to drop the kids off at school and daycare this morning?”

“Sure,” he said. “Car keys are on the table by the garage.”

“Okay great. I’m used to driving that kind of SUV,” you said. You snuck a look at your schedule you’d printed out again, knowing the twins would get need to get picked up around noon. You started to work on their lunches and snacks for the day while he took out the carton of eggs from the fridge. He cracked one into a pan and turned the heat on, yawning again as he got out some bread and threw it on a plate. “Would you like me to make lunch for you as well?”

“No thank you. I’m getting lunch with my manager today. You don’t have to make me coffee in the morning either, Y/N. Your job is to take care of the kids, not me,” he said.

“A cup of coffee is not difficult, Jensen. My job is to help you so if I can make dad’s life a smidge easier it’ll make theirs better too,” you said with a smile.

“You’re not like, a morning person are you,” he chuckled. “I don’t do peppy in the morning.”

“Oh no. I’m always a little nervous when I start a new job. I’ll get a rhythm down soon,” you said.

“So what do you normally do once the kids are dropped off?” he asked as he got out a spatula.

“On a weekday I’ll review their schedule, see if anything different is going on. An average day like today I will clean their rooms, their bathroom, do some laundry while they’re at school, maybe some shopping. I’ll pick up the twins, bring them home for lunch, a little playtime, a nap. We’ll have some quiet time and maybe a craft or coloring before we get JJ from school. Then I’ll give them all a snack, we can get outside and play to get some energy out. I’ll help JJ with any schoolwork she has while the twins play and then I will start on dinner about the time you’ll be getting home. Since you have no plans currently tonight I’ll leave you guys be at that point until tomorrow unless you ask me for help.”

“So when do you take a break?” he asked.

“Naptime. I’ll have lunch with the twins. Don’t worry about me Jensen. That’s my normal plan but if you would like me to run some errands in the morning I can,” you said.

“No, no. Just…” he trailed off. “I still want to make them breakfast and dinner and play with them too is all.”

“We’ll figure out the right mix of things,” you said. “You just gotta tell me is all, okay? It can vary day to day too,”

“Yeah,” he said, taking his fried egg out of the pan and placing it on one piece of bread. He made a sandwich and took a big bite, looking out the back window. “I never asked. How was your birthday?”

“Hm?” you hummed, dropping some carrots into a reusable bag.

“On Saturday you said it was your 30th. You do anything fun that night?” he asked with a soft smile.

“I got a new job. That was the highlight of my day,” you said, Jensen cocking his head. “I ordered pizza, binged netflix. My normal Saturday routine.”

“I know everybody jokes about 30 but it’s really just jokes. Wait until you’re 42,” he chuckled. “Then you really feel old.”

“Most 42 year olds would kill to look like you,” you said. You shut your eyes and shook your head. “I’m so sorry. That was so inappropriate.”

“It’s alright. I took it as a compliment,” he said, smiling again. “So you did nothing for your birthday, huh?”

“Uh, no,” you said, mixing in some grapes into each of the snack bags.

“I’m gonna get you a birthday cake,” he said.

“Mr. Ackles-”

“I thought I said it’s Jensen. I’m the boss so what I say goes. We’re gonna have a birthday cake for you tonight. So. What’s your favorite flavor?”

“Whatever you want is perfectly fine.”

“Y/N.”

“...I like red velvet,” you said. He smiled and chuckled.

“That was my wife’s favorite,” he said. “Haven’t had that since her birthday. She would have liked you.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. You’re quite kind to me. She was always protective of me, even if she was the scaredy cat most of the time.”

“Can I ask how…” you said as he took another bite.

“Accident. Tractor trailer versus her car. He tried to miss her but it was too late. I wanted to hate the guy too but it was an accident and I couldn’t blame him for that.”

“My father died in a car crash when I was six. It does get better with time,” you said.

“That’s why you didn’t know if he had a picture of you in his wallet or not,” he said as you nodded. “You’re too young to have that much tragedy in life.”

“So are you.”

“I’m not young anymore.”

“You’re young and overly generous,” you said with a smile.

“Misery loves company,” he said as you both heard a few feet above you running around. “Munchkins are up.”

“You want to make breakfast or should I?” you asked.

“Give me five minutes to get them in some clean clothes. Then I can show you how they like their eggs.”

“Sounds like a plan, Jensen.”

Later That Evening

“Y/N?” said Jensen, knocking on the door to your room. You got up from the couch and answered it, Jensen standing there with a smile. “The kids and I were wondering if you’d like your birthday cake for dessert.”

“You actually got me a cake?”

“I did indeed,” he said. You followed him down the hall and back into the living space, Arrow running up to you.

“Y/N! Are you sleeping over?” she asked as she gave you a hug.

“I live just down the hall now, cutie,” you said.

“Daddy, can we have ice cream too?” asked Zeppelin as he climbed up into his chair at the table.

“Sure thing bud. Girls, would you like some too?” he asked. Both the little ones said yes as he looked back at you.

“I really shouldn’t,” you said.

“We eat ice cream in this house,” he said.

“You don’t have to twist my arm over it,” you said. He got out the container and set it down on the table by the cake, lighting the match on the candle on top. “Oh please don’t-”

He started to sing though and the kids joined in, Jensen having a really good voice actually. You blew out the candle when they were through and he dished up some dessert for everyone.

“Y/N, can you read me a bedtime story later?” asked Zeppelin and you glanced at his father, Jensen making a face.

“Well Y/N’s not at work right now so she doesn’t have to unless she wants to,” said Jensen. “We’re already cutting into her-”

“I would love to, Zepp,” you said, his little face lighting up. “Maybe you guys want to join us?”

“JJ’s a little big to get read to at night I’ve been told,” said Jensen.

“Am not,” she said. “I can get a story too, right?”

“Of course,” you said. You took a bite of the cake and hummed. “This is really good.”

“I bought it myself,” said Jensen.

“Well you have good taste,” you said. “In fact, I’m gonna have another slice.”

“Good,” he said as Zeppelin grabbed the ice cream container. “Alright, alright. You can have a bit more, bud.”

“Night, JJ,” you said, getting a hug from her as you put her back to bed an hour later. JJ smiled from her bed and you flicked off the light, pulling the door shut after you turned on her night light.

“Thanks for giving up your night with them. I didn’t mean to have that happen,” said Jensen as you headed downstairs with him.

“It’s no problem. It’s good bonding for us,” you said. You helped him pick up the plates at the table and wash them off, Jensen grabbing a bottle of whiskey from a tall cabinet as you covered up what was left of the cake.

“Drink?” he asked.

“A small one,” you said. He poured a single into a whiskey glass and slid it over to you, smirking when you took a sip. “Oh that’s smooth.”

“Very,” he said, drinking from his own glass. “Thank you for tonight. JJ’s been…”

“She’s the oldest. She’s gonna have a harder time with it.”

“You were about her age when your dad died you said?”

“She’ll be okay. She’ll miss her but it won’t be a deep pain. She’ll have nice memories of her mom. She’s doing pretty good, trust me.”

“Can I ask another personal question?”

“I’m off the clock. Shoot,” you said.

“Your mom ever...try again with someone else?”

“Yes. Years later she found a good guy. He actually is who I stayed with after she passed. He’s married now, has some kids of his own but I know if I call him up he’d drop everything for me.”

“Good. I was getting afraid you were a complete Shakespeare tragedy,” he chuckled.

“Nah. I’m not at that level of crazy in my life,” you said. “As long as we’re off the clock, can I ask if you’re asking because you’re thinking of getting back out there?”

“I am. My wife kind of insisted on it. When we first got serious we had this deal that we’d go try again if something happened. I mean, I don’t cry everytime I think about her now. I can smile and be happy and that ache doesn’t try to swallow me up everyday anymore. I think it’s time I could get back out there.”

“I’d say it is. The kids are ready. They’ll understand.”

“You think your mom loved the second guy as much as your dad?”

“For sure. She was a bit of a free spirit but she didn’t think you had to have just one soulmate. She told me that after she’d met Ray. She said she got two so maybe I had two out there. I haven’t found either one of them yet so I’ll take increasing my odds as best I can.”

“Well you’re not gonna meet your soulmate sitting at home on Saturday nights, Y/N.”

“Just a lot of douchey guys,” you said.

“Ah. You need to meet a better kind of guy is all,” he said.

“Yeah see I’m thirty. All the good guys are married by now.”

“Oh all of them are taken. I didn’t realize that,” he said with a chuckle. “What am I then? Another douchebag?”

“You don’t count. You’re…”

“Too old for you?” he chuckled.

“My boss. Plus you’re like famous. You can go get like a victoria secret model or something.”

“Looks ain’t everything.”

“Maybe I ought to try older guys now that you say that,” you said.

“Y/N, you gotta be careful with that. I don’t want to see you get taken advantage of.”

“And this is why I watch netflix on Saturday nights,” you said.

“You serious about the older guy crack?” he asked.

“I do find them more...attractive sometimes. I guess it depends on how old. Why?”

“I got a friend my age, might be interested?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” you said. “No offense to your friend but...I mean if he’s 42...I want kids and stuff you know? Although a dude it doesn’t really matter how old...I don’t know.”

“It was just a thought,” he said with a smile.

“I’ll think about it,” you said. “He’s not a weirdo, right.”

“No. He’s an actor. Something to think about,” he said.

“I will,” you said. “Thank you for the birthday cake, Jensen. You’re a good person.”

“I bought a cake.”

“Yeah but I haven’t really had one of those in years. You’re a good person.”

“You’re very welcome,” he said as you slid off your seat. “You’re free to hang out if you like.”

“I’m kinda tired. I won’t be getting up that early from now on I don’t think.”

“I completely understand,” he said. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight Jensen.”

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A/N: Read Part 2 here!

#tell me a story bingo #SPN #supernatural #jensen x reader #jensen acklees #jensen ackles au #rpf #jensen series #rpf series #jensen ackles x reader #spn fanfic #jensen fanfic #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfic

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alpacaparkaseok · 3 years

Text

Could you repeat the question?

pairing: Taehyung x reader, oc x Yeonjun (TXT)

premise: a joint interview with your group, BTS, and TXT two months after you met your soulmate.

word count: 2k

[2/2] continuation of Can’t Keep My Hands To Myself

requested by anon - a picture of your request will be at the bottom of the post!

------------------------------------------

“Please don’t tell them.”

“Me? Why would I say anything?”

“You...you have that look.”

Yeonjun whirls around to face Taehyung, who just entered the room. “Do I have a look?”

Taehyung winks at you in greeting, something that nearly makes you swoon and your group members snicker.

“A look?” He frowns for a moment before giving his dongsaeng a pitiful smile. “Oh yeah, you do. Definitely.” Taehyung smiles at Jiwoo, my band member who is busy sending death glares at her soulmate. “He’s gonna spill it.”

Yeonjun jumps up from his seat at the same time Taehyung settles down beside you, placing his arm on the back of the couch and brushing your hair off to the side. It’s enough to make goosebumps rise on your skin, which of course he notices.

Oh, how you’d like to wipe that knowing little smirk off his face right now.

“I can’t believe this! I’m not going to say a thing-”

“Yeonjun, and I’m saying this with love, if you say a single thing about it, I will personally unplug your refrigerator when you least expect it.”

Your attention is pulled away when you feel Taehyung leaning in to whisper something in your ear. “So, do we know what they’re arguing about?”

You can’t help but giggle. “Nope. Jiwoo won’t say anything.”

“Neither will Yeonjun.”

The smitten couple have been teasingly arguing for the entirety of the morning, leaving the rest of us in complete and utter confusion.

Oh well, I suppose it’ll help make the broadcast a bit more exciting.

It’s been two months since Jiwoo and I first *ahem* teleported to our soulmates at the MAMA awards. Or rather, since I landed in Taehyung’s lap and Jiwoo was nearly knocked unconscious when Yeonjun was thrown into her at full force. Of course, Jiwoo claims that it was horribly embarrassing, to which I’m always quick to say that she should feel lucky that at least she didn’t end up in a grown man’s lap. For all to see, no less.

Ari, our other group member, just rolls her eyes and tells us that beggars can’t be choosers.

Yeah, whatever that means.

The past two months have been busy, with hardly enough time to spend with my soulmate. Between the busy schedules and BTS and TXT and our own schedule, we’ve had to settle for late-night FaceTimes and the occasional lunch at the Bighit building. I’ve become really good at sneaking in and out of that building in broad daylight - so far I have yet to be discovered.

Today, however, is an important one. It’s our first official schedule together as soulmates. Naturally, all three groups have come together for the interview/variety show.

“Alright, time to head on!” A manager shouts into the room, and suddenly there’s a flurry of movement as we all head toward the door. “I need all the soulmates to stick to their own groups, ok? We don’t want to be causing a riot today.”

Right. With a gloomy expression, Taehyung parts from me to head back to his members. Jiwoo and I glue ourselves to Ari’s side, much to her chagrin. “Ready?”

Both you and Jiwoo respond simultaneously. “Nope.”

Ari just sighs, feigning annoyance. Together, the three of you await your cue as one by one, your groups are introduced.

TXT goes first, the hosts making a big deal out of swooning over Soobin who now has a cult of his own due to his MC abilities. They make a show of handing the microphone over to him, begging him to take it over from there. He politely declines, while the rest of the boys bicker and chat in the background.

Then your group is called out, and you find yourself walking out before a huge crowd. You didn’t realize that many people could fit in this building, but here they are. And all of them are here for the same reason: to get a look at the soulmate couples that have newly formed.

And that have been trending on Twitter and Tumblr for two solid months, breaking all kinds of records.

As BTS is introduced with an almost reverent tone, you understand why you’ve been trending for so long.

It has a lot to do with one of the men walking out right now, smiling at the crowd and waving, graciously bowing his way across the stage.

Taehyung wears a gray casual suit which has him looking like he just stepped off a photoshoot. Hair perfectly styled and eyes glowing with adoration for the fans that roar and wave, he commands the entire room with a single raise of his eyebrows.

Your soulmate, ladies and gentlemen.

Today is the day where you prove to the rest of the world how much of a perfect match you are for this man. The notion is terrifying.

“Wow!” The host, a jovial man named Donghyun shouts out, exaggerating how amazed he is by the crowd’s reaction to all three groups sharing the same stage. Indeed, it’s a rare sight. “Ok! Should we get started?”

After a few minutes of more introductions, a few cursory questions (he asks Yeonjun what he’s been up to recently and you’re pretty sure Jiwoo manages to telepathically threaten him, because he chooses the most vague answer imaginable), and instructions on how to begin the next activities, you’re off to the races.

Painting races, that it.

Donning a frock and eyeing the empty canvas before you, you glare at your opponent across the way. Taehyung, to his credit, refrains from winking at you. He thinks you’re adorable when you’re flustered, but now’s not the time.

“Taehyung-ssi!”

Taehyung blinks up at Donghyun. “Yes?”

“Are you going to let your soulmate win?”

The game is simple: paint the listed object with as much detail as possible in a sixty second period. The others will have to guess what it is.

Taehyung pouts his lips a bit, glancing over at you with a glint in his eye. “I’ll have to see, I think.”

Donghyun chuckles into the mic, turning to face you. “What about you? If Taehyung-ssi falls behind, will you help him win?”

You wiggle your eyebrows at your soulmate, heart soaring when he delivers a boxy grin. “Oh, of course not. I came to compete, not hold hands.”

The crowd bursts out laughing, and someone yells out, “I’ll hold his hand for you!”

You all dissolve into a fit of laughter at that, your cheeks blushing madly. “Yeah, thanks for the offer,” you say between giggles. Readying your paint brush, you wait for the signal.

You’ve been given the word ‘Iceland’, which you figure shouldn’t be too hard.

What you failed to account for was the fact that you’re perhaps the worst painter you know. What should look like a globe looks like a basketball and what should be a cube of ice instead looks like nothing more than a cardboard box.

In the end, you’re pretty sure you laugh more than you paint. Your team members, consisting of a mix from both teams, look utterly confused at the end product. Eventually it’s Jin - who happens to be on Taehyung’s team - that accidentally calls out the answer.

The rest of the games pass by in a blur of laughter and covert glances toward Taehyung. He always manages to find a way to make you laugh, even though he remains on the other side of the stage for the most part. You don’t miss all of the fans that look at him dreamily, and you can only hope that they’re happy with your overall performance today.

At the end, you all squeeze onto a couple of couches. Donghyun makes a fuss over allowing the soulmates to sit together, and you can’t hide your smile as a beet-red Yeonjun sidles down to the couch to sit beside Jiwoo, placing his hands in his lap and trying not to do anything that will go viral.

Taehyung sits on your right, crossing his arms in a way that pulls on his suit jacket enough to expose the outline of his biceps. You catch your eyes wandering, snapping your attention back to the front where Donghyun reads some questions off of a card.

“I believe that this was the first time soulmates have met while performing at MAMA, is that correct? What were your first thoughts when you suddenly found yourselves face to face with your soulmate?”

The four of you that now have all the attention riding on your shoulders look to each other for help. Finally, with a racing heart, you answer first.

“I think the obvious answer is that I was shocked,” you smile as knowing chuckles ripple through the room. “But I was also really grateful, because Taehyung was so kind and understanding. The staff were very professional and helped us quickly. Overall, I really can’t imagine it having happened in any other way.”

There’s a few ooh’s and aww’s that greet your ears, but you look down at your lap as you blush. Taehyung slightly nudges your knee with his own, and in that simple movement you feel the comfort that he’s trying to give you.

“I’d actually been talking to Jiminie earlier about soulmates,” Taehyung pipes up.

“Oh, yeah! That’s right!” Jimin says, giving his friend a slap on the shoulder. “What are the odds?”

Taehyung flashes a shy smile. “I told him that I felt like I was ready. It can be strangely lonely sometimes, and there are times when I just felt like I was missing something. Now, all I have to do is pick up my phone and my missing piece is on the other side, ready to talk with me.”

Now people are really swooning, you included. You dare to peek over at your soulmate, heart nearly melting when you see that his shy smile is paired with pink cheeks. You wish that you could snuggle up to him right now, but that would definitely not end well. Instead, you lightly nudge his knee with your own, returning the little slice of comfort he provided you earlier.

“And you two?” Dongyun asks after wiping fake tears away from his eyes.

Yeonjun chews on his bottom lip, Jiwoo too lost in thought to notice that he has that look again.

“I, er...” Yeonjun begins, squirming a little in his seat. “I was...really happy.”

Donghyun urges Yeonjun to continue. “Of course you were! What about finding Jiwoo made you so happy?”

Jiwoo looks up in horror, but it’s too late. Yeonjun has already opened his mouth and begun to speak.

“I was so happy because the first thing she said to me was that she thought I was so hot.”

Radio silence.

And then-

“Oh-ho!! Yeonjunnie you’re so dead!” Hueningkai laughs, and soon everyone follows suit. Even Donghyun has to throw his hand over his mouth to keep himself from snorting with laughter.

Jiwoo looks at Yeonjun, who completely avoids her gaze as he stares unblinking at the floor. Then, quietly enough for nobody to hear except for you who sits beside her, she whispers, “Say goodbye to all the perishable items in your fridge.”

In the chaos that ensues, Taehyung discreetly traces circles against your arm and mumbles, “Why didn’t you say that to me when we first met?”

You smack his shoulder. “I should be asking you the same thing!”

Just before everything calms down again, Taehyung leans over to grab the abandoned canvas on the ground. Taking the still-wet paint and dipping his finger into it, he draws something out on it. Nudging you to get your attention, he flashes the canvas for you to see, hiding it from the cameras.

It’s hard to keep a neutral expression as you see his handiwork. It’s just six words, but they’re enough to have your entire face flushed a moment later.

I think you’re hotter than Yeonjun ;)

Stifling a laugh, you roll your eyes. “I hope you know I’m keeping that,” you mumble. Taehyung grins.

“Great. We’ll get it framed.”

A few days later, you do. It hangs in the front room of your apartment, for all to see. And for Jiwoo to loathe, as it serves as a constant reminder of her embarrassing first words to her soulmate.

Oh well. In the words of Ari, “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

masterlist

#taehyung x reader #v x reader #v oneshot #taehyung oneshot #bts oneshot #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts soulmate au #taehyung soulmate au #bts fluff #taehyung fluff #txt fluff #txt soulmate au #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun x soulmate #bts sfw

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years

Text

Love On-Set (Pt. 01 of 10)

Pairing: Dacre Montgomery X Reader

Word count: 3K

Next part (02) ->

Summary: You knew acting on Stranger Things season 3 would be a challenge, and you also knew, from the start, you'd have to work closely with Dacre Montgomery. But is wasn't a big deal for you, since this is your job and you're determined to act professionally. You had it all figured out, or so you thought, until the moment you were out face to face with Dacre. Then, this job became a lot harder than it was supposed to be, since you can't seem to focus whenever you're around Dacre. And you'll have to be around him a lot until the end of production.

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

First Sight

The minivan stops right before entering the set as the driver speaks with one of the security guards. A huge structure was built around the area, and if it wasn't for the strong lights, you'd be in complete darkness. It's late at night, but yet, there are some journalists and a lot of cameras. They immediately surround the car, trying to see who's inside.

“Vicki, do you think I should go out and talk to them?” You decide to ask her first, because you're not as known as the other actors, and you're not sure if they'd want to talk to you.

“Sure. But don't take long.” She nods, touching the drive's shoulder and telling him to wait.

Taking a deep breath, you push the door open, a smile on your face as the cameras quickly find you. Running a hand through your hair, to make sure it's not messed up, you take in all the microphones and smartphones pointed at your face.

“(Y/N), could you answer some questions?” A short, dark-haired guy asks, a camera flashing.

“It depends on the question, but I'll try my best.” This seems to please them, and you wonder if the others couldn't afford a few minutes.

“Your posted on your Instagram account that you were a Stranger Things fan from season one.” A woman asks. “How was the transition from being a fan to acting on the show?”

“It was fantastic.” The first season of the show was still driving people crazy when you got the call for an audition for the role of Amy Whitehall, for seasons two and three. Vicky, you have no idea how, got in touch with some friends when she heard they were searching of someone with physical traits similar to yours. Thankfully, the audition went well and you got the job. “It's an honor to be part of this masterpiece. The only bad part is that now I have some spoilers.”

“Your character's scene by the end of season two had any interaction with Billy Hargrove, Hawking's bad boy. Does that mean she'll be in any kind of relationship with him?”

For that, you have to think, careful not to say anything that will expose the plot.

People are very interested in Billy, not sure exactly where the character will go from now on, after his introduction on season two. He stole many hearts, for love or hate, dividing opinions. And your character had a short appearance by very end of the last episode, shown in an interaction with him. On her way to the ball, to help Nancy, Billy almost runs her over with his car, after dropping his sister. They had a small dialogue, him asking her to get out of the way and her telling him to look where he was going. Then a pause, a little bit of tension, and that was it.

“I'm not allowed to answer that, but Amy's scene was just an introduction. Her character will be around throughout season three.” Offering another smile, you turn around, giving attention to someone else.

“What will be a new threat? The season finale raised a lot of questions about–”

“Excuse me, excuse me.” Vicky pokes her head out, a hand raised. “I'm sorry, but we have to get going.”

“Aright.” You mumble. “Thank you, guys. Bye.” Politely, you wave at the reporters before going back into the van.

You're soon moving again, leaving the entrance behind and driving in darkness for some minutes before more lights come into your sight until they're all around you. The set was built around a piece of the road, where you already shot earlier this week.

“C'mon, (Y/N). Hair and make-up." Vicky urgers, stepping out of the van with you.

You easily find your way around the set, chatting with people as they do your hair and put the makeup on. There will be a tiny cut above your left eyebrow, and Ron, the guy who always take care of the fake wounds around here, takes only fifteen minutes to get it done. Once you're ready, Vicky guides you to the filming area, and you sit on your chair a few feet away, under one of the many huge tents scattered around the place.

“Hi.” Someone says, and you abruptly look up from your phone, finding your co-star. The only co-star of the day, Dacre. He's already full Billy, with the mullet wig and the leather jacket. “I didn't mean to startle you. Just thought I'd come to say hello before the scene.”

You haven't properly spoken to Dacre. The single scene you made was quick, one of the last, and the set was a mess. So you didn't have the chance to talk, and ever since, you haven't crossed paths with him. But today's scene is all about your characters. Amy's first appearance on season three will have her running from something in the woods, the Mind Flayer, and she crashes her car on Billy's, while he's on the way to meet Mrs. Wheeler. That's it for today, their first meeting.

“Hi.” Smiling back, you shake his hand. “I'm (Y/N).” You decide to remind him.

“I know.” He simply says. “Do you want to go over the lines before the real thing?”

He has such a nice voice, it's impressive. You've watched some of his movies, and he's really good. It's not like you haven't acted before, but nothing so important or famous as Stranger Things. You can't help but be a little nervous. “Sure.” Blocking your phone, you stand up, leaving it on your seat.

“Alright. Let's–”

“(Y/N)! Dacre! It's time, c'mon!” The director calls, cutting you off.

“Guess we'll go straight to the real thing,” Dacre says as you start making your way to where the cars are positioned.

Billy's Camaro and Amy's light green Toyota are placed a few inches apart, the front part already wrecked and a light smoke coming off from under the hood.

“The mechanism will push the cars on each other and the rest you already know.” Your stylist comes to check on you one last time, making sure everything is perfect. When she steps away, you get inside the car.

A few days ago you shot Amy's way over here, driving insanely fast, running from the shadows creeping. Most of the scenes where Amy will be alone were already made since there weren't many. She will be around the others a lot, as the events are unrevealed.

Once you're in the car, you take your time to get into character, ignoring the orders being yelled outside. The lights are turned off, and the road before you is almost completely dark.

“Let's get it started, everyone!” The director shouts. “Action!”

At his command, the car jerks forward.

Letting your head fall on the wheel, you breathe fast, wide eyes acknowledging what just happened, the crash, the smoke, the other car that collided with yours. Looking over your shoulder, you imagine, you picture it coming, moving through the threes, growing closer.

“What the hell!” The voice yells as you try to make your car start again, uselessly. “You could've killed me!”

“Damn it.” Cursing under your breath, overcome by terror, you step out of the car, running around it and into the other one, which is still working, opening the passenger door and rushing inside.

“What do you think you're doing? Get the hell out of my car!” Dacre shouts at your face, in Billy's voice, a little deeper.

“There's something in the woods!” You yell, looking through the rear windshield. “It's coming!”

“Are you crazy or something?! You almost wrecked my car!” As he speaks, you imagine it once again, the tentacles coming from the sky, taking over the road behind you.

Then you grab his arm, squeezing the muscle underneath the jacket. He's in the middle of a sentence when he looks back too, immediately going silent as he's eyes meet the same inexistent thing you're seeing.

“What the–”

“Drive!” You burst out, and the car starts moving.

“Cut!” The director's voice reaches both of you and Dacre hits the brakes.

Relaxing, you let go of his arm.

“That was great, but I want another take. Ryan, turn those lights down.”

The scene is repeated three more times, with different lighting until they finally decide it's perfect. Then the whole set starts moving to the next scene, which is the sequence to what just played out. It'll be shot in a street Northeast from the road, and since it'll play out from the Camaro, you're told to stay in the car as Dacre drives there, following the other cars.

“You did well back there,” Dacre says as you move, taking a different turn from the other cars to reach your mark. The street has a few small houses on one side, which will have their lights on and some people moving inside and on their balconies, and tall threes on the other.

“You too. Hope I didn't hurt your arm, but Amy was terrified.” Shrugging your shoulders, you smile to hear his giggle.

“I noticed.” He says. “But my arm will survive.”

Looking his way, you're able to have a good look at him now. It's a little dark, but you can take in his features. Dacre makes the mullet look good, which is impressive since you absolutely hate the hairstyle. But not on him. Clearing your throat, you look away. “Make sure it will. You'll need it.”

Dacre stops by the mark, everyone apparently already on their positions. “Things are about to get tense for Billy and Amy now.”

“First fight.” You say, taking a look at your outfit to make sure nothing is out of place. “Enemies to lovers is quite a good arch.”

“I like it too.”

“(Y/N). Dacre. Are you ready?” The director asks and both of you give him a thumbs up, hands off the window. The crew with the microphones and cameras are already positioned, ready for the scene. “Alright then. Ready... Action!”

Dacre moves the car forward, just enough to fake it as he hits the breaks. “What was that?” Billy asks, annoyed for some reason Amy wouldn't know.

“I don't know.” With a hand on your hair, shaking a little, you breathe fast, terrified. “Just take me home.”

“Now I gotta drive you home too?”

“Screw you.” The sudden outburst and the disgust in his voice makes you bolt out of the car, keeping in mind not to look at the cameras following you.

“Are you going to walk?” Billy yells, but you don't look back, walking fast, crossing your arms. “Wait.”

“Screw. You.”

“Don't be an idiot.” You roll your eyes when you notice he's coming closer. Dacre grabs your arm, forcing you to turn around. “Are you really going to walk home with that... Thing out there?”

You're confused at his change of moods, pushing your arm away. “Does it look like I have a choice? You just saw that–” You gesture at the threes on the other side of the road. “–and you still couldn't bring yourself to drive a lady home. You're such a gentleman.” Raising your voice, you put the same tone of disgust in your voice that you heard in his. The cameras move a little closer, and you know why. That's when the tension starts, when Amy stands up to Billy. Stepping forward, lifting your head to try and look him in the eye, you put a single finger in his chest. “You're far worse than what people say you are.” You don't get why his eyes make you nervous. Maybe this whole thing is more than you're used to, too big of a production for you after a few years away from the cameras. As much as Dacre's face being so close makes you feel funny, you gotta keep it cool, don't let it show. You're scared, terrified of a monster in the woods.

“Cut the bullshit and let's go.” He takes your arm again, but you refuse to follow him, standing your ground.

“Let go!” You struggle a bit on his grip, noticing how you actually need to act as if it's tighter than it really is. When he turns to face you again, as you struggle, his face comes close again, his eyes filled with Billy's annoyance.

“Get your butt–” Exactly in time, a crack reaches your ears, and both you and Dacre look at the woods with wide eyes, your breaths caught in your throats, unsure of what made that noise, but not excited to find out. “Let's get out of here.”

“Yeah.” You mumble, heading back into the car.

“And cut!” The director yells as soon as you close the door shut. “That was good, but I want another take. I want the same tension you both built on season 2, only now it's stronger, you're face to face. And Dacre, work this out because people need to be convinced Billy likes someone for something else than just fool around.”

You both nod, repeating the same thumbs-up gesture. Taking a deep breath you wait for the sign and starts moving, doing pretty much the same until you're both out of the car, but this time, when Dacre pulls your arm, you act as if the pull was stronger then it actually was, letting yourself collide against his chest before stepping away. “Are you really going to walk home with that... Thing out there?”

“Does it look like I have a choice? You just saw that and you still couldn't bring yourself to drive a lady home. You're such a gentleman.” Instead of just putting a finger on his chest, you push him away with both hands, not keeping the normal distance as doing so, and letting your eyes fall on his unbuttoned shirt for a couple of seconds before raising your them again. You feel the heat on your cheeks, and you know you're blushing. Checking him out was not the intention.

Dacre's eyes meet yours, and for a second they soften before the usual annoyance comes back. You wonder if he's trying to say something, give you a hint about something he wants to do, but you have no idea what it might be. “Cut the bullshit and let's go, princess.” The weight on the last word is different, lower, meant as in insult, an irony.

“Let go!” You whisper-yell, trying to pull away, but you stop when Dacre holds the other arm, trying to drag you to the car. His stare is intense, and the cameras move a little, coming closer, and you know they're focusing on your faces. “Let go.” You repeat, much lower this time, trying to put some distance between you and him, since your bodies are way too close already.

“Get your butt–” The crack again, the stare at the woods, and the sudden change of moods. Run now, fight later. “Let's get the hell out of here.”

Nodding in agreement, you give your arms one last push, and Drace's eyes come back to you as if remembering he was still holding you, finally releasing his grip. You both run to the car and the scene is over.

Despite saying it was perfect, the director wanted two more takes. He wants proximity, touching, anger mixed with a sudden, recently discovered passion from an unexpected connection at first sight. You're happy to hear that you did achieve that, not sure if it came from your skills or the funny feeling you had in your stomach through the scene. It's weird to have someone you basically just met so close, only inches away.

When it's all done, you take off the outfit and put your clothes back on after washing the make-up away. Then you wait for Vicky, leaning against the minivan, scrolling through your Instagram feed.

“Hi again.” You see Dacre approaching through the corner of your eyes, raising your head to look at him. “Have you checked in at the hotel yet?”

“Yes, just before coming here.” All the actors are staying at the same hotel, just so it's easier to gather everyone around when needed, and be sure of the time it gets for them to get on set.

“I came in my car. I can give you a ride there if you like.” As he speaks, you see Vicky coming, talking with the director. Which you still don't know the name yet.

“I came with Vicky, my agent.” Gesturing at her, you feel embarrassed to decline, and you hope Vicky will say something to help you out as she usually does. “Right, Vi?”

“Oh, no.” Waving her hand in a fast motion, she puts a lock of her blond hair behind her ear. “Remember what I told you? Make connections, friends. Don't stick with me during the whole production.” She reaches out her hand and Dacre politely shakes it. “I'm Victoria Klein. (Y/N)'s agent and her mother's oldest friend.”

“Dacre Montgomery.” He simply says.

“You may take her to the hotel. I have some things to do and she needs to rest. Long day tomorrow.”

You just watch as Vicky sets you up as if you're not even there to make your own call. But you're too shy to say anything else, to still refuse Dacre's kindness. “Ok then. See you, Vicky.”

“Have a good night.” She says after giving you a quick hug.

Silently, you follow Dacre through the set to the parking lot. His car is among several different trucks, some of them already leaving. “Nice car.” You tell him as you get into the passenger seat.

“It's rented.” Dacre turns the ignition and the car comes to life. “I can't be without a car. What if I need to go somewhere?”

“Fair enough.”

He drives through the huge set and you fall into a comfortable silence, not sure of that to say. It would help if you could see some kind of landscape or anything at all through the window. Then you wouldn't look like an idiot with eyes glued at nothing but darkness.

“Did you stop to speak to the journalists?” Dacre asks when you reach the exit, waving at one of the guards.

“Yes. You?”

“Yeah. What did they ask?”

“Spoilers.” Shrugging your shoulders, you give him a glance, and he does the same. “About Amy's and Billy's relationship. What can be expected after their meeting in the season finale.”

A low giggle escapes his lips. “Wait until they know.”

“But they will have to wait until next year.”

“You did well back there. You actually blushed. How did you do that?” He stops at the red light, and you feel when he looks at you. Running a hand through your hair, you meet his eyes.

You weren't trying to blush. You just did. “I'm a very good actress.” Giving him a sassy smirk, you see when his lips break into a smile. It's different from Billy's smile, he doesn't act like he's trying to hide some unknown meaning behind it.

“You sure are.” The red light turns green and you start moving again. “Uhm... There will be a kissing scene, you know.” Oh. The kissing scene. You read through it, of course, you just didn't give much thought about it. “Have you ever done a kissing scene?”

“No.” The answer is quick, you don't have to think much. “In my long list of three movies, in two of them my character didn't have any romantic interests and in the other one it was platonic.” Dacre had done it, you remember from some movie, not sure which one. Your mother insisted on watching some of his movies, just so you'd ‘get to know your co-star skills’ before actually having to work with him. But it's different. It's completely different watching a character on screen and then meeting the person behind it.

“Oh, ok. I hope I won't make you feel uncomfortable.”

“Don't worry about that.” You're a professional, and that's your job. It's just a kiss anyways, and the scene won't be shot any time soon. You'll have time to get used to the idea.

“I just think that since our characters arch is connected from now on, it would be good to get to know each other. It helps a lot when the co-stars are somehow friends.”

“Of course.” He has way more experience in this than you, so whatever he says, you agree.

When you get to the hotel, Dacre leaves his car on the underground parking lot, and, despite having his room key, he insists on accompanying you to the reception to get your card. Once you're in the elevator, you rest your back against the mirror, watching the numbers as they light up.

“We should exchange numbers,” Dacre says, turning to look at you. “In case some of us need to go through the lines or work on something.” He shrugs his shoulders, the light fabric of his white shirt moving. “It's a thing among us. You'll be invited to a lot of parties like that.”

“Sure.” Taking your phone off your pocket you unlock it and hand it over to him as he does the same. Quickly, you type your number and save if on his contacts list.

“That's my stop.” He says when you reach the 14th floor. “See you tomorrow.”

“Good night.” You mumble, waving at him as the elevator door closes again.

The first thing you do when you get to your room is kick off your shoes, already undressing to hit the shower before throwing yourself on bed. It's very late and you won't have many hours of sleep. You're halfway to the bathroom when you take your phone to put on some music. But you don't recognize the object in your hand. After a moment of confusion, you realize it's Dacre's phone.

“What now?” Stopping on your tracks, you start making the way back and gathering the clothes you left on the floor, putting them on again. Since you don't know the number of his room and knocking from door to door is ridiculous, you decide to call reception and just ask. But on your way to the landline they have near the couch, Dacre's phone starts ringing. You were wondering who would it be when you read your own name on the screen.

“Oh, hi.” You're quick to pick up. “I guess you have my phone.”

“Yeah, I got lucky it didn't lock, or else I'd have to call reception asking for your room.” His voice gets a lot darker through the phone. “Would you tell me which one is it? I'm already heading to your floor.”

“1703.” Already making your way to the door, you hear the soft beep of the elevator's doors opening.

“I'm almost there.” He's still speaking when he turns the corner, getting into your sight. You hang up, a shy smile on your face. “Sorry about that.” He hands you over your phone and you give him back his.

“It's alright. We're both tired.” You expect him to just say good night and leave, but he doesn't, shifting his weight from one leg to another.

“Have you met the others yet? Natalia, Joe, Millie...?”

“No, not yet.” You've heard they are very close, and you're the new girl in set. Saying you're nervous doesn't get anywhere close.

“I'm your only friend so far then.” Dacre states. “I'll break the ice with the others, don't worry.” He smiles again, and now, under the bright lights of the hotel hall, you can see his face perfectly. His blue eyes, a lot kinder then they were earlier today when he was Billy.

“Thanks. Guess I'll see you tomorrow then... Pool scenes.”

“Pool scenes.” He repeats. “I'll leave you to sleep now. Good night, (Y/N). Again.”

“Good night, Dacre.” Standing by the door, you watch as the walks away, towards the elevators.

You're about to head inside when, just before he turns around the corner, Dacre gives you one last look, a smile coming to his lips when his eyes meet yours.

@baker151910 @shinydixon @dreamin-of-dacre @hanoi15 @lickmymelanin @skykittysstuff

#dacre montgomery #imagine dacre montgomery #dacre montgomery imagine #dacre montgomery x reader #dacre x reader #dacre montgomery fanfiction #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x y/n #imagine billy hargrove #billy stranger things #imagine stranger things #stranger things imagine

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anika-ann · 3 years

Text

In the Spotlight (S.R)

Type: One-shot

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader Word Count: 5050

Summary: The one where Tony pushes Steve into a photoshoot, rubbing his hands and smirking at such action being almost a practical joke; a great way to make Cap squirm for a good cause.

Well, the joke just might turn out to be on him.

Warnings: mention of child cancer patients and disabled kids, Tony being a bit of an ass, attempt at humour, some language

A/N: The idea is a courtesy from a wonderful person, chase-your-dreams-away who always saw Chris’ FILA 2015 photoshoot as Steve showing he actually can pose. Thank you, sweet! This one’s for you!

(gif not mine)

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

“Ah, Cap! Just the guy I wanted to see!”

Tony’s voice reached Steve’s ears just as he entered the kitchen after his morning run and shower, his heart skipping a beat, his whole body instantly on alert; he wanted nothing but to spin on his heels and walk right back to where he came from.

It wasn’t that he dreaded to hear there was a mission; that would be fairly alright even if it meant that the world was once again a terrible place with horrible people who needed to be stopped in it. No, Steve’s fright was caused by something else entirely.

You see, living in the Avengers Tower meant spending extended periods of time in Tony Stark’s company. Spending extended periods of time in Tony’s company meant that one would learn how to recognize certain situations; Steve could easily tell when the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist had pulled an all-nighter in his lab, when he was in a long-term fight with Pepper, when he was annoyed, when he was delighted.

And this right here, the ‘Just the guy I wanted to see!’, that meant nothing good – certainly not for the guy in question. Tony seemed awfully excited, beaming in a manner that told Steve that his friend was about to revel in the discomfort he was about to cause to him.

God help him.

Steve forced himself to continue walking, a tight mile on his lips.

“Morning to you too, Tony. What’s the matter?”

The man behind the legendary Ironman suit blatantly wiggled a finger at Steve, smirking; a clear sign that he already had his coffee, possibly with two shots of espresso.

“Morning. Glad you asked. You’re free in the afternoon, right?—Yeah, I already checked the agenda you keep with Jarvis-“ Make that three shots of espresso. Also, incredibly RUDE. But guess that what one gets when living in a building ran by an artificial intelligence. “-so I set up an appointment like four weeks ago-“

Steve shook his head, raising his hand in attempt to stop the rapid fire of words coming out of Tony’s mouth.

“Tony, hold on a second-“

“What?” the billionaire snapped, frowning. He hated being interrupted.

“First of all, I don’t have to share all my plans with Jarvis-“

“But you do. Sorry to break it to you, but you have no social life to keep under wraps.” Ruder. “…or do you have a hot date today?”

Steve was so embarrassed and so frustrated with the man that he was tempted to say yes just because. To make a point. But from the two men in the room, he was the less petty one, so he told him the truth.

“Well, no-“

“See? No problem here-“

“Yes there is!” Steve protested, crossing his arms on his chest as anger started to build there. “I could have had plans! You need to consult things with me! It’s about principle!”

Tony eyed Steve, unimpressed, his right brow arched. “Really? Principle? We’re gonna go there? I don’t think so. Aren’t you curious what the appointment is about?”

Steve sighed exasperatedly, so not done with the conversation Tony so carelessly dismissed, but he in fact was curious, wanting to be prepared for whatever insanity the man came up with.

Tony planning stuff usually equalled Pepper planning stuff, or both of them together, except Pepper had a habit of asking first before confirming the plans and setting appointments. Also, plans by Pepper usually equalled PR. Steve wasn’t too fond of PR stuff, genuinely hating shaking hands with politicians with smiles as fake as their election slogans.

“What’s the appointment about, Tony?” Steve asked to humour his not-exactly-a-friend-at-the-moment.

Tony smirked once again, a hint of mischief flashing in his dark irises.

“Feeling pretty today, Rogers?”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up, his muscles tensing; that sounded even worse than he had imagined.

“Huh?”

“Cause you’re gonna promote a new sports collection. You better start posing in front of the mirror to get your head in the game,” he mocked lightly, just as Steve predicted, basking in the horror that overtook Steve’s very being along with utter disbelief.

“What? Why?”

Steve did not enjoy being photographed. It usually involved ‘striking a pose’ or whatever the kids called it these days and once again, strained insincere smiles. Yeah, he was more than alright to take a picture with a fan if they were a kid who looked up to him. But other than that? Ugh.

“Come on! Lighten up, Rogers! It’s for charity!” Tony called out, stepping closer to pat Steve’s bicep. “Uh-huh, firm, good.”

Please let me leave, Steve begged the heavens, unsure if Tony was actually fawning over his muscles – serum-induced and supported by hard work, thank you very much – or if he was mocking Steve again.

“But seriously, it’s for charity that deals with enabling the disabled kids to do sports, any kind that’s possible with their impairment really. From some sort of a football to marathons or archery or whatever. It’s for a good thing.”

Steve felt the tension in his shoulders partly subdue, relaxing a bit. For one, that did sound like a good cause and for two, there was a barely noticeable change in Tony’s voice, just a little waver in his tone, giving away that for all the smirking and nudging and shit-talking, the genius cared for people and had a heart. Having a heart - Tony Stark’s most heavily guarded secret.

Steve sighed, his previously lost appetite returning.

“Alright, Tony. Where, when and what do I need to do?”

The other man patted his bicep again, this time in a truly friendly manner and grinned. “I’ll let Jarvis give you the details. You just try not to screw it up. Seriously, train how to smile in front of a mirror or something. Some poses, whatever. The photographer looks pretty good – not just professionally, if you know what I mean-“

Steve couldn’t help the eyeroll at the remark, one that was followed by Tony’s scandalized insulted gasp as he slowly made his leave, gesturing.

“-so I guess you don’t have to worry… much. Not sure if there will be trunks involved. Or a speedo. So, you know, keep it in your pants and don’t look anywhere I wouldn’t… which isn’t leaving much-“

“Bye, Tony,” Steve called after him, resisting the urge to childishly cover his ears just so he wouldn’t have to listen to the dirty teasing.

“What, it’s a valid concern we don’t want a lawsuit form her--“

“Go before I rattle you out to Pepper,” Steve grunted and at that, the genius grimaced and swiftly disappeared in the doorway.

Steve once again sighed and decided that he might need a bit more carbs in his breakfast than originally planned just so he survived today.

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You weren’t kidding anyone – you were a teeny tiny bit nervous. Your career had been rather colourful, you dipped your fingers in many kinds of photography and you still enjoyed the diversity, the various pictures of beauty – and there was a lot of beauty in the world to be captured – still calling out to you.

You had met famous people before too and you always managed… but Captain America was a whole new level of a challenge. You were feeling equal parts worried and damn lucky for being picked for the job; a job you wouldn’t get a penny for. Shooting a thing like this for charity with a name as great as Steve Rogers, that wasn’t about money – not quick one at least. It was about prestige.

On the other hand, you would get almost any props you’d think of, within reason, of course – just saying a word was enough. And you had a few, images already painted in your head as you read on Steven Grant Rogers a bit more, got a good look on pictures online, and obviously, saw the collection.

Thinking about it, maybe it was him who should be scared, because excitement was the leading emotion of yours for while now.

You saw him arrive, the chatter about it instantly spreading like fire. And honestly? He did look a bit spooked, so you took the liberty to knock on the room he was provided with, the stylists already in.

“Come in!” sounded from the inside and you took a deep breath, poking your head in – and deciding that entering fully was more polite since you were about to introduce yourself.

“Good afternoon,” you greeted him, only a showing a smidge of nerves on the outside, you hoped.

As you offered your name, the blond man – built like a tank, a very handsome tank, with the sweetest inviting smile and bright eyes – rose from his seat immediately, holding out a hand to shake, introducing himself as well as if it was necessary. It was a nice sentiment, however.

“Please, call me Steve. Something tells me that formalities would only get in the way,” he said with a slight curve to his lips and you felt yourself relax right away. He’d be excellent to work with. Now you really couldn’t wait.

“Then you must call me by my name too. Thank you for suggesting it,” you accepted delightfully, eyeing the pair of stylists you had met before on similar projects; this kind of business was all about knowing the right people. You nodded at them, grinning. “Now, Steve, I have a very important mission for you.”

The captain’s eyebrows jumped at your wording – and at your teasing. You scolded yourself lightly for your choice of words, unwittingly nudging him towards the wrong headspace. You didn’t need a soldier now, quite the opposite.

“Oh?”

“I need you to tell these two lovely people what amount of make-up and what hairstyle you’re comfortable with,” you explained, earning a slightly confused tilt of Steve’s head. “Sure, I have a certain visual in my head, I’m sure they have too.” You exchanged a knowing look with them. “But most of all I need you to feel good. If you’re pressured into something you hate, we can’t work any magic there.”

Steve nodded in understanding, stiffly, and you had a hunch that he might have been pressured into this whole thing.

“But please don’t leave on us now,” you added quickly and he huffed a short laugh, bittersweet, letting you know that you were correct in your assumption.

“I won’t leave. But thank you for the tip.”

Gosh, he was so polite and had a subtle air of greatness around him (also known as BD energy these days), you could bask in his presence forever – but you had to work.

“All in days’ work. I’ll see you.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Your heart skipped an excited beat when a twinkle appeared in his brilliant blue irises and you were done for.

You really hoped your hands wouldn’t shake; you’d hate for the pictures to be blurry.

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Once you were in your own kingdom of wonders, all nerves vanished, only child-like giddiness remaining. However, same couldn’t be said about Steve; he entered the space, fidgeting – not too obviously, but visibly enough – eyes flickering all over the room as if he just arrived to a Wonderland indeed.

If you were being honest, such a hunk of a man appearing so endearingly lost… he was kinda adorable.

You felt the corners of your lips automatically rise at your silly thoughts and at the image of him. Besides adorable, he sure looked hot in the white jacket. Who knew sportwear could look so alluring?

“Looking good here, Steve,” you called out as he approached and upon meeting your eyes, he attempted a smile too – little too apprehensive on the edges for you to believe it was honesty and not sheer professional courtesy. “Clothes feel good?”

You could see his expression melt into pure puzzlement at such question, clearly not having expected it.

“Oh… uhm, yes. Thank you.”

“I meant what I said. I need you to be comfortable, Steve,” you reminded him softly, earning a rather frantic nod.

“I… am.”

You could practically hear the unspoken ‘sort of’. Well, it was a work in progress.

“Little steps. Alright, so… I’m gonna be talking a lot. Cut me off whenever I’ll be getting on your nerves too much, okay? We’ll start with this set-up, with this background, obviously. I need to you to just walk to the centre- good, now turn your head to the left—a bit more… perfect.” Not.

Uh-huh. Probably his first time; you should have figured, though a heads-up would be nice. You should have asked dammit. You chewed on your lower lip, gears in your head spinning wildly as you tried to assess him.

Mm.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

His head snapped back to you in surprise and you couldn’t but chuckle, mock-frowning at him. He realized his mistake and quickly looked away, returning to the pose you had attempted to set him into before – his beautiful profile now dusted with pink.

“The colour?” you encouraged him and started taking photos even if you knew you wouldn’t use them, not with his shoulders so stiff and his expression slightly twisted in confusion still – even if he apparently tried to look natural.

“Uhm, blue.”

His face relaxed a fraction and you smiled to yourself.

“More sky-blue or royal blue or something entirely else?” you continued, not at all surprised when a second later you learned that it was sky-blue.

You thought it might be because of his eyes and you wondered; perhaps his eyes were the only thing that hadn’t changed during the serum transformation. His eyes were last straw to grasp at when his whole body suddenly didn’t feel like his.

Or maybe he was moonlighting as an artist, appreciating all kinds of beauty like you did and knew his stuff.

Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t seen colour so well before his transformation and fell in love with the particular shade upon seeing the sky.

“Mm… ever had the time to appreciate the sight of the ocean? Breath-taking blue on the surface, matching the sky, reflecting the sunrays so sharp that it would make one squint—but you don’t, you can’t. Because damn, it’s so beautiful and you can feel the breeze in your hair, almost flowing between your fingers and you just have to keep your eyes open to commit to memory what it looks like, how it feels, the sand between your toes, the sun warm on your skin…”

You babbled on, your heart fluttering at how damn magnificent Steve looked now, gradually relaxing his posture, his eyes softening, the corners of his mouth subtly raised in a smile, not an artificial one, just a soft curve to his lips as he lost himself in a pleasant memory – or a daydream. You had to remind yourself to press the shutter release; it would be too easy to simply watch the man in front of you coming out of his shell, releasing his light and grace for everyone to see.

“Absolutely wonderful, Steve, thank you. Shall we move on?” you praised him softly and his absurdly long lashes fluttered as if he indeed woke up from a dream. He appeared to be a little lost again, but the smile remained on his lips.

“Of course. Where do you want me, ma’am-- I mean-“

“Oh hush!” you interrupted him rudely with a grin. He was too precious for words, resembling a puppy, all soft and loveable and yet he was somehow so respectable; you’d have to watch yourself just so you wouldn’t fall in love with him in the short time you were given together. “No ma’am, we’ve been over this. Now…”

You instructed him to walk to the wall of a ‘beach house’, half of the background imitating the very beach you had described; you offered him a different jacket and a cap to hold in his hands, the item serving more than one purpose; one was the campaign, the other was to give him something to do with his hands.

For this picture, you had him looking at you, which made you fidget self-consciously for a change; this time, the story you came up with was to put both of you at ease.

At this point, Steve was an open book to you – or, well, open enough. You had done your reading on him a bit, sure, but now you truly started to see his personality – one of your favourite parts of doing photography coming into play.

“Alright. Posture is great. Now, do you often meet kids?”

Steve wasn’t as surprised at the question anymore, replying calmly, but almost without a thought.

“Yeah. We, uh, we sometimes go to the hospitals to make the patients’ day a bit better? It’s such a small thing to do, I know, for an oncological kid, but they are always delighted. And they are so brave, I feel like a—well, like a sucker compared to them.”

“Weren’t you sickly as a kid?” you questioned lowly and Steve’s gaze dropped as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his expression falling.

“Done your reading, huh?”

“The wonders of 21st century and our educational system. But I’m just bringing it up to make a point. I think that you can see them and that’s why they like you visiting so much. Something tells me that you can truly feel what they feel and they sense it – kids can be ridiculously intuitive. Maybe you share, I don’t know of course, but I think that somehow they just know and they see a fellow warrior who beat all the illnesses too. And they look up to you, because you give them hope. And not just sick kids. I bet you met a few kids claiming you’re their favourite superhero just because you have a frisbee.”

He chuckled at that and nodded, but you could see that what you had said before the funny bit touched him and it had been that part that had the desired effect – to pull him back where you wanted him, relaxed and positive.

“Okay, that’s fair.”

“You’re not everyone’s hero for nothing, Steve, you’ve done some pretty heroic stuff to begin with. But I think it’s what behind the shield that some people find even more inspiring. Be proud of that too.”

The perfect shot was taken and you couldn’t but recall the quote I once saw a man so beautiful I started crying, because yeah, you could weep now. You quickly stood up and took few more pictures, because it was too good of an opportunity to pass up on.

“And look at you, turning into a model so easily when it comes to helping people, again,” you teased him lightly while being nothing but honest.

As at ease as he appeared now, you’d think he was doing this on a regular basis. As if you hadn’t been trying to coax out his true self out for everyone to see in a simple photo just a few minutes ago.

His hands found their way into the pockets of temporarily his jacket, gaze falling to the floor before his eyes locked onto yours, grateful and gentle.

“I’m pretty sure that’s all you. Thank you for being so patient with me. I thought this would remind me of the old days when I-” He hesitated, blue eyes lightly misted with doubt, so you beckoned for him to continue to speak freely. You’d got into some pretty deep stuff yourself just a moment ago after all. “-when I was a lab experiment to show off.”

You nodded in understanding, even if you couldn’t imagine what was it like; then again, in your early days, you had met enough parents who came to your atelier to show off their trophy children, so this wasn’t exactly a foreign concept.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m sure that however you hated doing it, you were giving people hope back then too. And it’s not right to reduce person to a symbol, but symbols were and are important. As long as there are people who are able to see beyond the simplification, then I think it’s worth it. Then again, I never was anyone’s dancing monkey, so…” you shrugged, internally cringing at being such a blabbermouth, afraid that you came too far, put Steve off and that he would withdraw back to his shell.

But he didn’t. He gifted you a brilliant smile, one reaching his eyes.

“And all this?” you hummed, vaguely gesturing around, hoping he’d catch on. “I’m glad if you like the way I work, but the pictures? That’s not me, Steve, that’s you. And all I hope for is to show people a little bit more of you, throwing away the shield and letting them see that Steve Rogers is just as radiant.”

The intensity of his gaze now was enough to make your heart stop beating, his expression suddenly unreadable and you quickly covered your mouth, an apology already spilling from your lips.

“I’m so sorry if this made you uncomfortable and I turned into one of the fawning fangirls, that wasn’t my intention. You have to stop me when I get too much-“

“You’re didn’t and you don’t,” he smiled kindly and shook his head, appearing genuine. “I just never met anyone like you. And I mean that in the good way, just to be clear.”

You felt your face burn; because of your TMI talk and his compliment.

“T-thank you,” you stuttered out, causing his smile to turn radiant indeed.

He kept watching you, silent, eyes roaming your face, irises blue and intense—when had he got so close? Or did you walk to him? He was positively prettier upon closer inspection, all sharp edges to his jaw, lips calling out with how damn soft they would be, not to even mention his hair, and oh, was that a drop of green in his eyes? Oh wow, you could drown in that single drop, surrounded by the most enticing shade of blue and--- you closed your eyes and cleared your throat, trying your best to ignore the tingle in your fingertips and in your gut, pleasant warmth in your core-

“We, uhm, we should probably go back to work,” you whispered, licking your lips as you once again glanced at his and you swiftly spun on your heels, desperately trying to remember what shots you wanted to take next and if it was time for him to change already- oh god, you couldn’t possibly handle the thought of him losing clothes…

His expression dimmed a fraction, an epitome of slipping back into politeness. “Of course. Tell me how you need me… ma’am,” he teased, subtle quirk to his lips and you felt your cheeks burn hotter— but your breathing got easier as he was letting you know that you were still alright.

You had a half-mind to call him a soldier in the same manner, but you didn’t want him to slip into that persona.

“Oh, you have no idea what you signed up for, Steven.”

He chuckled, but followed you as you walked to the next scenery.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

“What the hell, Rogers?!”

Why?

And this right here, the ‘What the hell, Rogers?’, that meant nothing good – certainly not for the guy in question. Tony seemed awfully exasperated and perplexed at some of Steve’s past actions probably, and that usually meant a lot of uncomfortable questions coming his way.

God help him.

Yet, he sighed and walked in, preferring to face his fate right away and go about his day as soon as possible.

“What did I do?”

“Jarvis, if you could, please,” Tony requested with a solemn expression, one of his thin holographic devices lighting up on the counter and instantly projecting several floating images as Steve walked closer.

Steve’s lips parted in surprise, shocked ‘oh’ escaping them as his heart was sent into frenzy.

Twenty images in total, photos of a blond man of Steve’s own body-built, clad in sportswear posing in every single one of them. His face was familiar too and yet somehow foreign; surely these couldn’t be real. There was no way Steve looked so confident and almost proud in some pictures, but mainly, appearing so comfortable in his skin.

Steve’s mind raced as he tried to associate the model with his own person and yet—he couldn’t but feel rather satisfied. Because this was most definitely him. And the photos were… well, not bad at all. Simultaneously, while his chest puffed with pride he desperately attempted not to let go into his head, he remembered precisely how these photos came to existence and who should totally take the credit here.

“That’s all you gonna say?! Oh?” Tony demanded, gesturing around the holograms as if these were corpus delicti of a serious offence and Steve was once again reminded of what Tony Stark was not; a patient man.

Steve felt a smile creep onto his lips as he shrugged.

“Oh, he says. You’re asking me what did you do?! THIS! If I knew you were a damn runaway model, I would have expected less fun than I did when imaging seeing you squirm! Look at this! These are way too good!”

Steve couldn’t disagree, mildly amused at Tony’s antics. In fact, he really was ridiculously content with the results of something he had dreaded and couldn’t have even hoped to turn out like this.

“…is that a bad thing?” he couldn’t but mock, earning an exasperated huff… and a smirk.

“Well… not, I guess. My little black heart is just… disappointed.”

Ah, yes. The heavily guarded secret – Tony Stark did have a heart and contrary to popular opinion, it was not little or black.

“No, it’s not.”

“Hush!” Tony shushed him, a twinkle appearing in his eye, amusement mixing with satisfaction. “But seriously. What the hell? Since when do you… pose? Like this? Like… wow.”

“Careful there, Stark, you’ll make him blush,” Natasha hummed as she entered the communal kitchen, checking out the flowing pictures with interest and a curve to her lips. “These are pretty great. You did well, Rogers.”

And all of sudden, Steve couldn’t handle the praise anymore; it had been fun with Tony, but now when Natasha joined in, swiftly followed by a wolf-whistle from Sam at her heels… it felt wrong to brag about this, it wasn’t fair – he wasn’t the one who deserved to be given the majority of the merit.

“It’s… it wasn’t me, really…“ he admitted sheepishly.

And it wasn’t. It was all you.

Looking at the photos, he could tell what you were talking about when you pressed the shutter release for every single one of them. Painting the vivid image of the ocean just with your words. Calling him a hero in a way no one ever had. Pleading him to be proud of what he had accomplished. Making him feel those things, causing him to gradually gain confidence, feeling good in his own skin even when being at the centre of attention, encouraging him to suggest a pose on his own. Hell, Steve might go as far as to say that he had been having fun.

But it was all you.

“Looks a lot like you, man,” Sam chuckled and Steve would have shot him an annoyed glare hadn’t he been so embarrassed and self-conscious to admit who was to blame for the pictures turning out so great.

Because… yeah, Steve wasn’t vain or tried not to be, but these were pretty swell. You were a magician, you had to be. And he had fallen straight into the trap of your charms.

“Har har… the photographer was amazing. She made me feel-” He didn’t even know how to describe it without making himself look like a complete fool… for you. “-great. She was really supportive the whole time, sometimes even making me forget she was taking shots.”

“Alert!” Tony cried out all of sudden, nearly causing Steve to jump out of his skin. “I sense romance! How’s Cap heart, Jarvis? Has the security been breached? Should we run some scans-”

“Shut up, Tony,” Steve huffed in irritation, attempting to hide how precisely the billionaire hit the nail on its head.

“Awww, now he is blushing,” Natasha teased and Steve felt the heat in his cheeks burn.

“Well, luckily for him, there was a business card along with the printed photos that arrived this morning.”

Steve’s head immediately snapped Tony’s direction, curious and excited. You left a business card? That was—it probably didn’t mean anything along the lines he wished, but still!

The billionaire held out the simple creamy-coloured item between two fingers, but quickly snatched it away when Steve reached for it. Steve shot him a murderous glare. Dammit man-child!

“Full story or you’re not getting any, pun intended.”

“Oh, go to hell, Stark-”

“Come on, Stark. We all know he has some work ethics unlike you. Let him start a thing before you interrogate him. Plus, if he’s got a phone number from a hot girl for the free work he did, good for him. Give him the card,” Natasha supported the poor blond and Tony rolled his eyes before shooting the Widow a look of betrayal. Sam just chuckled at their antics. Steve snatched the card before they could change their mind, while Natasha smiled behind her cup. “We expect a full report later though.”

She exchanged a high-five with Sam under the bar, but Steve was too busy examining the card and having his heart beating incredibly fast to feel exasperated at his childish friends.

As he flipped the card in his fingers, he felt a wide smile spread his lips at their own accord.

If you ever need another photoshoot or anything at all, don’t hesitate to call. xxx

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S.R. masterlist

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

Thank you for reading :-*

Link to the inspiration post will be in reblog!

What can I say to my defence? I just really like making Steve happy, okay?

And yeah, the 2016 FILA is perfect too, but this fic is a result of a suggestion of a friend and babyface CE is more Steve, what can I say…

196 notes · View notes

btsslowburnfic · 3 years

Text

Body Insecurities Series

Rated: T for implied sexy times and language

Members: Jin and Yoongi

Body struggle: Your breasts

Jin

Today was a day full of mistakes. Mistake #1: You scrolled through Instagram for the 50th time today. You knew better. But the photo of Jin and that model now had 2.1 million likes. Htf was that even possible? You thought. I mean, you knew the two fan bases were huge, but jeez.

Mistake #2: You read the comments section. The one talking about how your boyfriend was so hot and so was the model and that they were probably dating and how she had the perfect body and “wow most Korean girls aren’t that curvy,” “Damn, I bet Jin couldn’t keep his eyes or hands off that.”

You were petite. You did not have an hourglass figure. In a world of alleged hourglasses, apples, and pears, you were a carrot. Or a french fry. A very straight french fry. You had gone through your middle school phase of super padded bras. Your high school phase of little silicone cutlets. And even your twenty-something phase where you looked into cosmetic surgery. But you thought you had come to terms with your aerodynamic figure by this point in your life.

You sighed. You had promised yourself you would not be this kind of girlfriend. You knew you were dating a celebrity. You knew what you were getting into. It still sucked though. You heard the door to your apartment unlock.

[Y/N]?” You heard Jin yell from the foyer.

“I’m in here,” you responded, getting up and walking over to him.

“Hey beautiful,” he said as he exited the foyer and reached down for a hug. You smiled as he always hooked his arms under yours even though he was taller. Weirdo. I wonder if he hugged that model. You found yourself thinking. Goddammit brain. Stop.

“Hey! Did you have a good day today? You’re home so early.” You said as you walked into the kitchen.

He followed you, opening up the refrigerator and grabbing a drink. “Yeah. We filmed an episode of Run today and we actually completed our missions early so here I am,” he smiled while taking a swig of the drink.

You looked over at him, “I thought you were doing shots with that model today?” You said without thinking.

He thought for a minute, trying to remember what you were talking about. He pulled some chicken out of the refrigerator, “That was last week. You know the content creators hold on to photos for months at a time. Today’s Run episode won’t even air for like 8 months.” He said nonchalantly. Like it was no big deal. Because to him, it wasn’t.

“Oh.” You said as you prepared the rice maker. “Was she nice?”

Jin rolled his eyes. “Since when do you take an interest in who I work with? Other than when it’s an artist or actor you’re a fan of.” He could guess where this conversation was headed. He sat the chicken down on the counter.

“No reason,” you responded.

“She was fine. We didn’t really talk, but she was polite to her stylists and stuff I guess.” He said as he began to marinate the chicken.

The rest of the evening passed as normal as possible with the two of you cooking and eating dinner. You tried hard not to be an insecure weirdo but it was difficult. You left your phone in the bedroom to resist the urge to check insta again.

“What do you want to do tonight?” you asked him since he rarely had a free evening.

He had changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt. “Netflix and Chill. Is that what the kids call it?”

You laughed, “Yeah like 5 years ago old man,” you teased him as you joined him on the couch.

“You pick, I don’t care.” He said, handing you the remote. You scrolled through mindlessly before deciding on something.

You tried to focus on the movie but all you could focus on was the actress’s perfect bodies. You didn’t even notice how much you were zoning out until the movie abruptly stopped. Jin had paused it. You looked over at him.

“What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing.” you said, feeling your face flush. You had said it too quickly though and Jin noticed.

“Jagiya. Talk to me.” Jin said wrapping his arm around you.

“I just...I’m feeling really awkward after seeing the picture of you with that model and reading all those comments about how perfect she is and how you two look so good together and how she has perfect tits and I have zero tits and I just feel really bad about myself now.” You stumbled through your confession all at once.

“Oh Jagi...There’s so much going on up there,” he ran his hand down the side of your face. “Yes. She is very pretty. And so are most of the people I work with. And so are you. I’m not going to lie about that. And her boobs are fake.”

You looked at him incredulously, “How do you know?”

He rolled his eyes at you and raised his eyebrows. “Really? You really think those are real?”

You scoffed, “No but I….”

“[Y/N] If you want fake boobs, we can buy them, but I love you and your body just the way you are.”

You looked away. “You’re just saying that.”

Jin sighed, “I’m not trying to be rude or anything, but I’m Worldwide Handsome. If I wanted to date a supermodel or someone with huge boobs, I would have done it. I’m with you because I want to be. Because I like you. I’ve liked you since I met you and I think you are beautiful just the way you are.”

You didn’t have a counter argument for that. It’s not like he didn’t have women throwing themselves at him all the time. You nestled back into his side.

“Thanks Jin.” you said.

“No need to thank me. I have clearly been lacking in telling you how beautiful you are and I shall remedy it immediately.” He kissed the top of your head.

Yoongi/Suga

It was time for bed and you had just finished brushing your teeth. You took off your dress and looked in the mirror. You frowned. You grabbed your boobs in your hands and pushed them up, back to where they used to be. Ah much better. You sighed as you let go and watched them sag back down to their now natural state. You groaned and put a bralette on and then put on Yoongi’s black hoody as well.

You walked back out of the bedroom and were surprised to see Yoongi had wandered into the bedroom. You always went to bed way earlier than him; your office job required a much earlier morning than his job. He turned and looked over at you and then opened his arms. You smirked and walked over, lying down on top of him and greeting him with a kiss. “Coming to bed early tonight?”

“No...Just visiting the bedroom in hopes of some other bedroom activities.” he ran a hand through your hair and gave you a suggestive look.

“Oh really?” you said before pressing your lips against his. His hands moved down feeling around your underwear and pulled at the fabric to lift up your shirt. Well, his shirt. You sat up and finished pulling it over your head before settling back down on top of him. The two of you continued to make out for several minutes, slowly losing more and more bits of clothing until all that remained on was your bra.

You hoped Yoongi wouldn’t notice, but as he laid on top of you, he started to rub a hand under your bra band. “I think you’re forgetting something.” he commented playfully.

You tried to ignore it, putting on a sexy voice, “I just want to get to the main event.”

“All right then, let’s do it,” he said and started to pull on the band to help you remove your bralette.

You froze up. “No. I want to keep it on.”

Yoongi gave you a perplexed look and rested down on one elbow, running the other one along your collarbone. “Ok. It’s not a big deal. Is there any reason?”

You looked away, not really wanting to answer. You were usually very confident but lately this had really been bothering you.

“I thought you were just really into borrowing my hoodies, but I’m guessing something else is bothering you.” He said as he gently touched your face, forcing you to look at him.

“I just...I just hate my saggy boobs ok? They’re gross and I don’t want to see them.” You blurted out.

Yoongi looked a little surprised for a minute. “That’s what you’re worried about? But they’re so cute. And I love them.” He said and you actually believed him.

“It’s your body, I’m not going to make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with. And I can’t tell you how to feel. But you should know that I really like them. I like how they feel in my hands.” He gently rubbed the outside material of your bra, “and how they feel in my mouth,” he leaned down to kiss you, “And how they feel against my body.” You felt him gently pushing himself against you beneath the sheets and a quiet moan escaped your lips.

“How? They fall into my armpits when I lay on my back.” you whined. You were also half laughing at how ridiculous you sounded.

He smirked. “That’s gravity. You want me to tell you what my balls do when I lay down?”

“No. Definitely not,” you laughed as you raised your head up to kiss him.

“Alright, we’ll work on helping you feel better about this, ok?” He kissed you again.

#bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts fluff #bts jin x you #jin x reader #bts suga x you #bts yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi scenarios #jin scenarios #bts seokjin x reader #body posititivity #bts boyfriend

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ssa-dg · 3 years

Text

Undercover Part 1

part 1, part 2

Overview: the BAU has gone undercover to find a potential unsub who has been drugging, raping and murdering women. It own becomes a potential victim. Having to play her part to catch the bad guy, you go to the party all dressed up and dance with a potential murderer all while pretending he is someone else, Spencer Reid.

TW: drugs, rape (it is mentioned how the unsub rapes his victims. the reader is drugged and the unsub takes advantage of her being drugged and begins to take off her dress), murder, sex, adult themes. if these types of things are triggering for you please don’t read. I’m just a average person who tried their best to not cause people to be upset. If this is problematic I’m sorry I didn’t mean for it to be and will take it down.

Relationship: Spencer Reid x (female)reader

word count: 3,384

Author’s note: so this is my first ever Criminal Minds story. If it garners enough attention I will do more parts (honestly even if it doesn’t I probably will lol) PSA: I have never been under the influence of MDMA and honestly I don’t judge if people who do it consensually and safely (which is harder said then done). this is how I imagine it to be like to be on it. Also I like writing and I like sharing my writing because all of the great fan fics that cause me happiness, if I can cause that reaction just to one person that’s enough for me

You would do anything to save the world. Maybe it was a hero complex, maybe it was some form of glory seeking, or maybe it was the only way you knew how to fill the dark abyss you felt when you did nothing of importance. Being a part of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, helped with that. Being on the team gave you everything you needed, a family and a way to save others. Maybe saying you love your job isn’t the correct way to explain your emotions but you knew no better way. Although you wish a job like this wasn’t necessary and didn’t even exist, it did.

Your team meant the world to you and you would contribute almost in any way to help find an unknown subject. So when Penelope Garcia was able to connect the killings in New York City to some private “rich people” clubs, her and the team created a plan to infiltrate.

The victimology was specific. It was all rich young women ranging from the ages 19-30 who just moved into the city to find themselves.

The profile was an easy one to figure out. He was obviously a troubled young white male who was probably an heir of some sort. He was richer than what most people think is rich. He usually meets the victim at a high society social event. Then he’d take them to a more exclusive social event. After that he would drug them with MDMA, rape and kill them.

It was hard for the BAU to get much out of the enclosed and tight group of New York’s most elite families. So going undercover at an event where the unsub could potentially hunt for prey was what made most sense. Your jobs was to observe the women and men there and try to see if any of you could fish out the unsub.

They had done it in the past but usually they did their best work by watching and observing. So here the team was, their second night in a row all dolled up in fancy cocktail dresses at some art gallery. Tara Lewis and Luke Alves stood around a table pretending to talk to each other as they observed potential victims. Jennifer Jareau, Spencer Reid, and Matt Simmons stood at another end of the room checking for the potential unsub, while your unit chief, Emily Prentiss, and you were pretending to be alone at the event eavesdropping on rich families. You listened to those around you while also scanning the room looking for potential young white men talking to lone young women. “Ten o’clock to the creepy face painting,” you heard Alvez say in your small earpiece. You calmly turned pretending to look at the other art pieces and saw a white male in his mid-thirties walking up to a female. He placed his hand on her low back as he leaned in to talk to her. Emily being the closest nearby out of you two, moved closer acting like she was going for some hors d’oeuvres. “That’s not him. He’s too drunk. I can smell all the alcohol he has consumed. He would need to be smoother than that,” Emily whispered as she took a sip of her glass. That’s how most of the night went. We followed and stared at people who might be the unsub and then filed them out. You felt yourself losing hope. You hated this part of the job. The one that made you feel like the profile was wrong and you all would have to start over, which there was never time to start over. Someone could die. That’s when you felt a hand touch the small of your back, your body tensed up immediately. “Relax,” he whispered in your ear. But you didn’t need to force it, because when you turned to look at the person who touched you, you were met with the face of beauty and your body instantly relaxed. You knew this was a dangerous reaction, as would probably many of Ted Bundy’s victims.

The man before you had slicked back short dark hair, bright blue eyes, strong symmetry in his facial features, and strong cheek and jaw bones. He smiled wickedly at you, causing you to intake a sharp breath. It was so sinister but also so beautiful. It wasn’t the most beautiful smile you’d ever seen, no that was reserved for your teammate, best friend, and love of your life (even if he didn’t know it) Spencer Reid. Now, Spencer’s smile was one you could get lost in. You refocused yourself to the beautiful man in front of you. “They say the artist intended for this particular piece to show trauma while he was drinking. His other pieces are other emotions on different drugs,” his deep voice rattled through your ears. You wanted to unwrap yourself from this man’s embrace. How dare he touch you like that without your permission. “Play along,” Luke spoke as he saw a scowl beginning to form on your lips, “he could be the unsub.” You smoothed the scowl into a smile. “It doesn’t look like it depicts trauma,” you responded dumbly. The man before you cocked his head to the side giving you a lopsided smile. “I guess it all depends on how someone experiences trauma,” the smile now wicked, and scarier. A shiver went up your spine. “Are you cold?” He asked, noticing it, while looking you up and down like he could devour you. “No,” your voice came out scratchy as your throat went dry. You cleared it politely. “Just thinking-” “About your own trauma?” He asked. You could hear the fake tone of concern. That snapped you out of your fear. The pictures of all the murdered women that brought the BAU to this case flashed before your eyes. “Maybe,” the smile you plastered on your face was a one you knew he wanted, a sad smile. You were going to play this role like it’s no one's business because you were here to catch a bad guy and if flirting with a creep got you there then so be it. He leaned in closer to your ear, “my name is Alistair Constantine,” you immediately recognized the name. It was on the list of potential unsubs for the profile. His family’s money was old, going back to the revolutionary war. The family seemed to always be updating with the times and never losing that money. You leaned into his other ear and introduced yourself.

Spencer’s hands were clutched at his side as he watched you interact with the Constantine boy. He felt in his gut at this moment, Alastair was the unsub. The way he was looking at you, it was like you were a quest to conquer. Spencer knew he couldn’t just come up, break you two apart and blow the whole investigation but boy did he want to.

Alastair paraded you around the room. Every now and then he would talk to fellow members of the society. It took everything in you to pretend that you didn’t want to beat his ass right then and there. You were always an imaginative kid growing up so you blocked out the gruesome pictures of the crime scenes and instead pretended this was your life a young New York woman getting special treatment from a handsome man. It was easier to fit the rom-com role then what was actually happening. Alistair stopped in front of a painting that was particularly psychedelic looking with bright pastel colors. “This is my favorite piece by the artist. This was when he was on Ecstasy. Look at the happiness and distorted-ness to the art. It’s amazing,” he gushed. It would have been odd that he picked this particular painting to attach too, but it was a strong tie to the method of his killings. “Humankind cannot bear very much of reality,” you spoke out, breaking Spencer from his thoughts about if they had enough information to convict Alistair for the murders. Alistair looked at you funny, not understanding why you would say that. “T. S. Eliot” you told Alistair while Spencer whispered it at the same time. a ghost of a smile playing on your lips when you heard Spencer’s voice. “It’s what I think of when I look at this art. T. S. Eliot is one of my favorite poets,” you blushed at your admission. It felt like for a second, with having just heard Spencer’s voice, that you were talking to him instead of Alistair. Spencer was now looking straight at you two. His eyes held bewilderment, he has known you for years and you never once mentioned this, and he knew you knew this was something he cared about.

“Indeed,” Alistair yawned.

The next 30 minutes was you telling him how you’d grown up in Boston, Massachusetts, that you had no close relatives anymore, and how when your parents died their life savings all went to you (all of it true), the lie came when it was to talk about why you moved to New York City, what you wanted to do with your life etc. And he ate it up every second. You played the roll of being the lonely damsel in a big city trying to find the answer to life. You were his ideal victim and you knew that he didn’t even question how perfect you were.

The night ended with an invite to the society’s ball tomorrow night, and Prentiss fed your ear a fake address for Alistair to send a car to tomorrow. You ordered an Uber to the address where Emily said they’ll pick you up to not seem suspicious in case Alistair sent someone to follow you. Once at the address the FBI’s SUV pulled up and you got in. It was Spencer who picked you up, which was unusual, as he never liked driving. You climbed onto the passenger seat and saw his knuckles were white from the strength of his grip on the steering wheel. It didn’t take a profiler to know Spencer was mad. “Spencer, are you alright?” You approached with a soft whisper. There was a pause of silence, Spencer calculating if he should be honest. He eventually gave into the truth as he knew that he couldn’t hide it from you. “No,” he growled, the anger in his voice causing you to jump in surprise. “No, I am not okay. That man is a murderer and he was holding you in his arm! You two were practically dancing around the room in there. We have put you in danger and now, now you are his next target, his next victim!” he hit the wheel in anger. You had never seen Spencer this angry before. Most times when Spencer got angry, he got smart and he used his logic to fight but now he sounded emotional. “Spencer,” you raised your voice, “I am not a victim, I’m an agent. I will do what it takes to protect others. Just like you.” In anger Spencer swerved the car to the side and put it in park. “Dammit, You don’t get it,” he yelled and turned towards you. “If he is our unsub, which we both know he is, I’ve run the calculations and the risk is too high for you,” his hands flying everywhere in gestures, “There are too many dependent variables. There isn’t enough for us to control. The probability of you getting hurt or,” he stopped to collect himself, and in a quieter voice said, “or worse, it’s too high. I’ve run the math.” Now that sounded more like the Spencer you knew. A soft smile crept onto your lips, then you quickly neutralized your face, in hopes he wouldn’t see the way his concern for you made you feel. And You couldn’t do that to yourself. You couldn’t let yourself feel happiness when Spencer showed you affection, because it eventually just leads to heart break. Subconsciously, you turned more towards him in your seat, “In your math is there probability that we get this guy and he never gets the opportunity to hurt another woman again?” You asked. Spencer gave you a pained look like he knew where you were going. You countered that look with one that told him to answer the question. He let out a heavy sigh, “yes. There is that possibility.” You smiled at him knowing you won the argument, “That settles it then.”

With everyone back in the small conference room at the police station, the conversation began about what to do tomorrow. No one was pleased that one of their own is now the target but there was truth that the situation was now more in the BAU’s control than before. Everyone also believed in you. They knew the risk and that scared them but also you are a Special Advisory Agent for a reason. Relief did not fill you but neither did dread, when you thought of the plan. You were doing the right thing. It didn’t matter if you were going to put yourself in danger.

Spencer kept pressing the heel of his hands into his eyes. Something that happened when he started to get headaches and you could guess this headache was caused by stress. As the rest of the team started packing up, you stared at your best friend hurting over the stress you were causing. You took a seat next to Spencer. He was still wearing his suit from the party. “We are going to be okay tomorrow,” you comforted him. He looked up at you, “I’m not worried about all of us, I’m worried about you,” he confessed. Once again, you knew these words shouldn’t have an effect on you like they did, but it did and this time there was something that felt hidden behind those words, something more. “I trust you not to let anything happen to me,” You countered and placed your hand on his forearm to comfort him. You looked in his eyes and tried to let him know that there is more than just trust there.

The day of the ball, you got ready in the police station bathroom. It wasn’t exactly how you imagined to be getting ready for your first ball in New York City. You’d rather be wearing this gown for other reasons than going undercover to catch a murderer rapist. The Givenchy dress Garcia picked out was gorgeous (as you instructed her to get a designer to fit in the crowd and you would float the bill). It was a long evening dress in blue and green with a gradient-effect. The top had long puffed sleeves, deep V-neckline, and waist accentuated with smooth lamé and long flared skirt. You put your hair up in a loose low bun. The makeup you did was a smooth eye with long flair eyeliner. You put a heavy amount of glow highlighter on your cheek bones and collar bones to accentuate the deep v cut the dress.

You felt ridiculous walking out of the bathroom into the police station wearing your dress. But the way Spencer looked at you was something powerful and intoxicating, making you forget your embarrassment. You strode up to him. A small smile played on your lips looking up at him. You saw him also smiling at you “You’re almost as tall as me,” he blurted out. You let out a small laugh, “‘I guess that’s what heels will do,” you smiled looking down at your feet. Spencer felt ridiculous that’s what he said. He should have told you how amazing you looked or how your beauty felt like the sun- always pulling him in and having his thoughts orbit around you. But he wasn’t good with voicing his feelings (especially in a room with his colleagues).

“We are going to have Officer Melinda Jackson drive you over to the apartment, And stake out the car. She’ll be on the radio the whole time till you are in range with us. We will be at the Capitale when you get there.” Emily disclosed as she strapped on a microphone and earpiece.

You stepped out of the car with your head held high even though your anxiety was on another level. “i’m here,” you whispered. “We are here too,” Tara responded. Everyone disclosed where each one was to you. The venue was massive and beautiful. The ceiling was tall with ornate decorations. The lighting was a bright orangish glow. As you examined the room, checking each point of your team, you also saw Alistair. He was at the bar with what looked like to be a group of his friends. Spencer not too far behind them. You walked towards Alistair but kept your eyes on Spencer. He took your breath away dressed in a tux and his hair slicked back like he used to when he was younger. It felt like your heart was lit on fire just by looking at him all dressed up. He was staring at you intensely. It wasn’t that the world stopped the moment your eyes met his, but it was more like everything else just didn’t matter. You knew you’d have to look away soon to not give away anything but you took him in for just one more second. “You look amazing,” you heard a voice next to you say. You turned to see the ever good looking Alistair. He wore a navy 3 piece suite with a large Gucci tag on the sleeve, and a large Gucci flower pinned on his chest. You gave him a soft smile and returned his compliment. “I want to introduce you to my family. Their approval means everything,” he offered you his arm. You took it tentatively, Spencer watched him lead you away, and he pondered on Alistair’s odd statement about family approval.

Alistair’s family was everything you’d expect. They were proper and pompous. However they liked you, a lot. You fell right into the role you had to play. You stood there laughing and engaged in the conversation with his mom and cousin.

“Shall we dance?” Alistair asked, giving you his hand, as your conversation with his sister came to an end. You nodded and let him take you to the dance floor.

He spun you out and brought you back in close to start the dancing. You gave him a bright smile at his eccentric action. You closed your eyes and let your mind pretend it was Spencer holding you. You followed his lead as he twirled you both around the dance floor. “Stop dancing, we can’t see you,” Spencer frantically said into your ear piece. You snapped your eyes open. Taking in that you were on a secluded corner of the dance floor by an exit door. “You are special. My family, They like you” Alistair said with a sense of manic to it. “you aren’t like the others,” he admitted. His voice sounded different. It was sinister with a tinge of adoration. He pulled you close, so close that his fingers dug into your hand and back. You felt like your brain was freezing up in fear. How many times had you been in fear inducing situations and why did your brain pick now to not work. “you’re hurting me,” you groaned trying to pull yourself away. “Where are you” JJ yelled but then you felt mist hit you, and your mind begin to make things fuzzy, “the left corner, the spray…in the flower,” you breathed out, hoping the team could hear you. You heard a rattle of commands to your co-workers from Emily. Then it went black.

Spencer rushed through the crowd to find you but by the time he got to the corner you told him you were at, you were gone. “She’s not here,” Spencer panicked into the ear piece. “I just saw a black Tesla leave, license plate delta, alpha, hotel nine, one, two ” Luke informed them. “Call and ask them to run it”, Rossi said urgently. “on it,” Luke replied. “JJ and Reid, go talk to the mom and sister, Tara and Matt split up and talk to his friends and the other family members. They have to know where they are,” Emily demanded

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #emily prentiss #david rossi #matt simmons #Penelope Garcia #criminal minds fic #luke alvez #jennifer jareau #tara lewis #criminal minds fanfiction #ssa-dg #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine

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laxtolhr · 3 years

Text

Title: Tomlinson. Louis Tomlinson.

Summary: “Louis… These new lyrics are kind of…” Niall tries to find a way to vocalise his thoughts without tearing his friend down. “Well they seem darker than what you normally write.”

“Yeah. This almost sounds like heartbreak.” Harry friend and flips through the lyric sheet he was handed. “Hauntingly beautiful, but definitely not what you usually give us.”

Louis shrugs. “That’s all I have right now. Take it or leave it.”

Written for @wrckmyplans for the @sololouiegiftexchange . It’s super late, but I’ve never been good with deadlines. I really hope you enjoy it!

1949

“I just don’t understand this need you have. Can’t you just be happy settling down and working at an office?”

Louis sighs as he shakes his head. “I crave attention. During the war, I would do comedy routines in the trenches at night and it… Well it helped make things a bit more bearable. And it showed me I could be the next big thing. Imagine, me! The next Abbot or Costello!”

Jay continues to wipe furiously at a sticky spot on her counter. “I don’t know, Lou. The girls are still in school and they need a good strong role model to look up to. Just think about if your father was still here how-“

“Well he’s not. He was a dirty lowlife who walked out of his family. I don’t want to think about what he would do.”

A silence falls over the kitchen.

“Fine,” Jay says quietly. “If you think London is where you have to be to make this work then go to London. Just promise me you’ll keep your name. These show business names are getting too much nowadays.”

——————

“Hi, I’m Tomlinson, Louis Tomlinson.” He throws his suitcase onto his bed and holds his hand out for his new roommate to shake.

The boy, Louis assumes he can’t be much older than sixteen, tentatively takes his hand and shakes it. “Is that your real name or stage name?”

“Both,” Louis pulls his arm back with a shrug. “Told me ma I’d keep it the same. She’s not a huge fan of fake names.” He takes a look around the room.

It’s not much. A single roomed flat with enough room for two beds and an even tinier kitchen space. There’s just enough space for a framed picture of his family and his radio, but he guesses it will do. He’s always heard of the actress accommodations in New York City across the ocean, but he never realised London had the same kind of boarding set up for both men and women.

“And you are?”

“Oh, right.” The boy grins sheepishly before pushing his curls away from his eyes and smiling widely. “Harry Styles, at least that’s my stage name. Didn’t think anyone would look twice with a name like Edmond Thatcher so I decided on something simple and elegant sounding.”

Louis nods. “I like it. Easy to remember too. Are you a comedian as well or a more serious actor?”

Harry shakes his head as he sits on his bed. “I’m actually a singer. There are two other blokes down the hall as well who are singers. We do some gigs together when no one is looking for a single, but a quartet is really in right now. We want to be the British equivalent to the greats in America- Sinatra, Martin, Lawford, you know?”

“Sounds like a laugh, mate. I’m not the best singer, but if you all ever need a fourth I’d be happy to accompany you. Figure knowing some friends might be a good place to start in the city.”

——————

1951

“You sure about these lyrics? They seem a bit… Cheeky.”

Louis rolls his eyes and takes the papers from his friend’s hands. “Liam, what did we talk about last week?”

Liam frowns, eyes going soft. “You take care of the lyrics and I do the instrumental. The big band sound though doesn’t really lend itself to these types of lyrics.”

“Oi, that’s the beauty of music, Payno. You can cross genres.” Louis pulls out a cigarette from his jacket pocket and quickly lights it as he continues to look at his work. “Think about it. Bing Crosby, one of the biggest names in music, was doing a spin on Irish folk songs. Mixing and melding genres is innovative.”

“But these lyrics-“

“Are risqué and real and what we should be singing.”

The door to the studio opens to reveal Harry and Niall, the fourth member of their quartet, carrying sandwiches from the local deli. “Honestly, Louis, do you have to smoke without the window open? Some of us need to protect our vocal cords from the damaging effects of smoke.”

Rolling his eyes once more, Louis moves to the other side of the room and opens the window. “Need you both to take a look at these lyric sheets and give an honest opinion. Payno and I were having a discussion about them, but a fresh set of eyes might be helpful.”

Niall picks up the papers and begins to read over the words. “I’m feeling something deep inside, hotter than a jet stream burning up. I got a feeling deep inside, it’s taking, it's taking all I got?”

He frowns and looks at the lyricist. “Are you singing about an orgasm?”

“Thank you,” Liam says exasperatedly. “It’s too risqué for us.”

“Hold on.” Harry has Niall repeat the lyrics again. “I see where you could think he’s singing about an orgasm, but what if he’s singing about his feelings? Maybe he’s in love and it’s just overwhelming? Sounds like he’s being consumed by feelings.”

Louis takes the last drag of his cigarette before stamping it out against the window ledge. “Honestly, it is about an orgasm, but like Harry said it could be about feelings. I’ve personally never been in love so I can’t relate, but I’m sure someone out there can or even one of you three. Come on, lads, we’ve got great content. Why are we scared of a little controversy?”

The room is silent for a moment as they all have a quick think.

Finally, Liam sighs. “Fine. We can move forward with this song, but we cannot continue with your song about an actual erection.”

——————

“And so I told him he could go fuck himself.”

The whole table laughs at the witty banter of Nick Grimshaw. He was one of the most influential men in all of England and being on his good side meant you went far. He was out with his colleagues to enjoy a simple lunch at the Ritz and that was it.

“Excuse me, sir, but we have an act coming in soon and I know how much you despise having live music while you dine. They are set to take the stage in about ten minutes.”

Nick thanks the server and slips him five pounds for the information. “Well, that seems to be my cue to wrap up this impromptu lunch affair. Quite sad though. I was so enjoying catching up with all of you.”

“Maybe,” Aimee interjects, “we could stay then. I know you’re not one for live music, but perhaps just this once would be alright. Consider it a fun impromptu concert just for us.”

There’s murmurs of agreement around the table. It had been a long time since the last entertainment party Grimshaw had thrown and his guests were eager for more glitz and glamour.

“I guess a few songs wouldn’t hurt, would it?”

The restaurant lights dim slightly as a quartet takes the stages.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to Amor Amore.”

A smattering of applause is heard as the swelling of the strings start. The table watches in glee as the four younger men entertain and sing their hearts out for the esteemed guests.

A couple songs turns into a whole set, which quickly turns into a few hours. Grimshaw barely realised that it’s nearly the late afternoon hours until he had been asked if he and his guests were staying for dinner as well. He politely refuses, but demands that one of the quartet comes out to meet him.

“What are you up to, Nicholas?”

“I want to know if they have a record. I’d love to have their music playing at one of my small gatherings.”

——————

December 1955

Louis exhales slowly and watches the smoke curl up into the wintry air. He hates these high class functions. They’re so ostentatious and over done. It’s always the same shitty jazz and same men and women drinking the same old champagne and laughing at the same old jokes. It never meant anything and he wondered how much longer he had to be there until it had been long enough and he could leave. “There you are,” a voice whispers in his ear and there’s a gentle hand on his elbow. It’s Liam, of course it is, and he’s looking at his friend with worry in his eyes. “You can go in like twenty minutes. I know this really isn’t your scene, but being here means the world to Harry, you know?” “That’s why I’m here at all. The whole party and schmoozing scene belongs to Harry and Niall. Sometimes I wonder if you even like it, but then I remember that Sophia is always with you so you have a reason to enjoy it.” The older boy shrugs and downs the last of his champagne as a man up on the stage clears his throat. A hush falls over the partygoers and soon enough the man on stage- Nick Grimshaw- smiles brightly. “Welcome, elite and A-listers. Tonight, I wanted the very best for you all, but I couldn’t very well ask Amor Amore to perform since they’re guests tonight.” A laugh rips through the group of celebrities and important figures. “So, I asked around and I’d like to introduce Zayn Malik to the stage. He’ll be providing the music for tonight. Thank you all for attending tonight. Enjoy the party and happy Christmas everyone.” The guests cheer and holler happily before going back to what they had been doing, ignoring the singer as he took the stage. Louis rolls his eyes and grabs another glass of champagne as the overused jazz sound starts to come from the piano. He can’t see the man, but he assumes he’s like every other wannabe jazz singer- a head of clean cut lines and a smart looking suit wanting to evoke visions of Frank Sinatra from across the pond. “The field was bright with clover, I saw the finish sign. I started as a rover and then victory was mine. I thought the race was over, but they just keep moving the line.” The brunet freezes as the voice pours through the speakers around the room. The voice is breathy and washes over him in gentle waves. He thinks over the name that Nick had mentioned to see if he could place this beautiful voice, but nothing was coming to him. “They cheered at my persistence, but prayed for my decline. The path of least resistance led to Hollywood and Vine. I tried to go the distance, but they just keep moving the line.” He pushes through the women in beautiful little numbers and men in expensive suits to get to the stage. He has to see the man and know what the owner of this voice looks like. He knows he accidentally spills a drink on some woman’s gown, but he doesn’t even have time to apologise as he spots the edgy pompadour sitting atop the performer’s head. “I jumped all of the hurdles to break out of the pack. I started on the outside and then hit the inside track. I left the other fillies back at the starting gate; was ready, on my mark, I got to set to hurry up and wait.” Louis finally pushes through the last of the crowd and finds himself at the foot of the stage. His mind goes blank as he sees the man is his element. He watches as the man tenderly holds the microphone stand and sways to the sound of the jazz music that swells behind him. The man loves his craft, something Louis hasn’t been able to relate to in a long time. The passions and emotion radiating from the man and his voice are enough to send shivers down Louis’ spine.

The attitude was infectious. It made Louis want more for himself. More than just being one of four. He wanted to be appreciated for his lyrics instead of being censored. He wanted that jazzy sound that didn’t quite fit with a melding of four voices.

He wanted to be solo. He wanted to be free of record producers and radio play and measurements of success for a company. He wanted to be successful for himself. He wanted to be more than just a number. He wanted to be a true artist. “So talent and ambition won me a chance to shine. I aced the big audition, but it's rainin' on Cloud Nine. Can't beat the competition 'cause they just keep moving the line. I handled every corner, each bump along the track, and when I saw the ribbon, well, there was no turning back. I won the photo finish, I posed for all the men, but before I got my trophy, well, the race began again.” Louis lets his eyes drag up to the singer’s own and he startles when he notices that they are locked on him. He’s looking straight at him and winks lightly as he continues to sing his song. “So I made friends with rejection, I've straightened up my spine! I'll change each imperfection till it's time to drink the wine! I'd toast to resurrection, but they just keep moving the line! Please give me some direction, ‘cause they just keep moving the line!” The song ends and there’s polite clapping before the chattering continues as if the singer was merely an inconvenience to them. Louis claps loudest of all and reaches a hand up to him. He quirks his head to the side and takes his hand, smiling brightly when Louis shakes it emphatically. He looks at him, trying to read why one fourth of the biggest music in all Britain is interested in his music. “Can I take a request for you, sir?” “Just another song in general so I can watch a wonderful performance. I assume you already have a set planned out, so I won’t bother you with extra songs. When you take your break though, I’d be delighted if you’d join me for a chat.” Louis whispers to the man as he smiles at him and backs away so he can sing again. The singer’s eyes follow him until he’s swallowed up by the crowd and he wonders what just happened.

——————

“Thank you. I’m going to take a small break and be back in thirty minutes. Have fun and happy Christmas everyone.” Zayn says as he ends his seventh song and heads off stage. He’s immediately accosted by the man from before and handed a glass of champagne. “Do you smoke, Mister Malik?” Zayn nods quietly and follows the man outside to the balcony where he lights up a cigarette and hands his one as well. “You have a lovely voice. I thought Nick was just going to hire another wannabe Marilyn, but you’re actually talented.” “Thank you, Mister…?” “Tomlinson. Louis Tomlinson,” he sips at his drink and waits for the recognition. Zayn doesn’t disappoint, although he tries to conceal his excitement. “Louis Tomlinson? Like, from Amor Amore? Oh god. You’re one of the most influential men at this party. I’m lucky to have caught your ear then.” He chuckles, eyes crinkling with his smile. “Your lyrics caught my attention. The fact that you look like you actually enjoy what you do is just a bonus. I was wondering… Would you want to accompany me home tonight? I’d love to hear more music from you.” “You mean… You want to work with me?” Zayn frowns and tries to see the downside to working with someone as powerful and influential as him. This could make or break his career. “Of course. Why else would I invite you back to mine?” Louis seems genuinely confused for a moment before he realises just how rude that may have come across. “Oh! Not that I’m saying you might not be a good friend or anything, but I hardly know you. I’m sure that if we work well together a friendship won’t be far behind though.” Zayn’s sigh of relief and happiness must have been evident. “Well, music I can do. The friendship stuff will depend on how well we work together, Mister Tomlinson. I’m more jazz and Elvis inspired and you’re well known for… Well, big band don't exactly mix with my genre at times.” He smiles and the conversation continues as they laugh and get to know each other. Time seems to go by so fast and soon enough, Nick and Liam are joining them on the balcony. “Malik, you’ve been on a break for well over the thirty minutes you promised.” “Louis, we’re leaving if you want to join us.” Louis looks up at the two men and smiles easily enough. “Sorry about keeping your star, Grimshaw. He’s got a great sound and an ear for music. If you hire him for more events, I’d actually enjoy coming to these parties.” He shakes Zayn’s hand once more before he has to hurry back to the stage. “Oh. And, Liam, I’ll be catching a taxi home tonight. I’ll be waiting for Zayn to finish his contracted set.” He heads inside and leaves the two men on the balcony as it begins to snow lightly. “Oh, Nicholas Grimshaw, what have you started.”

——————

Mid-January 1956

Louis smiles politely up at Zayn as he continues to play a melody that only he knows. He brought the other man to the studio a few hours before the lads were set to join him on another writing session. He doesn’t know what the appeal and draw is to Zayn Malik, but all he knows is that he’s drinking it up like milk and honey.

“All I want is to be up on a stage singing songs I can relate to.” Zayn scrunches up his nose. “Instead, I made the round at parties and corporate events and I sing the same thirty songs in rotation. It’s tiring and makes me want to pack it up and go home.”

“So do it then. Stop singing all these songs by others and start singing your own.” Louis looks up at him with a confused expression. It isn’t that hard for Louis.

Zayn leans heavily onto the baby grand piano and smiles softly. “I can’t write songs. I’ve tried. I’m not good at rhythm without a melody and words just aren’t my strong suit. The song I sang at Mister Grimshaw’s party was an original and that alone took me ten years to write.”

Louis perks up. “Let me write for you. I’m sure I can get some great material and have you headlining in no time.”

“Writing for someone else?”

Zayn and Louis both turn to see the other lads standing in the entranceway to the studio room. Zayn has the decency to look like he’s been caught doing something naughty.

Louis just shrugs, not seeing the issue. “Of course. It’ll be great! He’ll be a proper performer in no time.” He straightens up at the piano and starts to play a quick and jaunty melody as he hums along to the music in his head. “It’s simple. Just have to think of an image you want. You want to be the next Elvis? Easy.”

He taps back and forth between two notes as he tries to think of lyrics to put as his opening lines. “If…” he pauses until it hits him. “If you say something is taboo, well, that’s the thing I wanna do. Do it till we’re black and blue, let’s be bad.”

Zayn laughs as he watches Louis start to create a song on the spot. “How do you come up with stuff so quick? Those lines alone would have taken me days! I should introduce you to my friend Taylor. She’s good at this kind of stuff too”

“It’s easy! You just have to think about the message and go from there.” Louis smiles brightly, the praise feeling good. “And I’d love to meet your friend. Would love to bounce songwriting ideas and tips off someone new.”

Liam, Harry, and Niall all look at each other with worry in their eyes. It could only get worse from here.

——————

February 1956

“Has anyone seen Louis?”

Niall shakes his head as he watches Liam pace the radio station lobby. Being invited to spend air time at the BBC with Nick Grimshaw is a privilege that not many artists got, but of course, Louis is nowhere to be found.

“We’ll just say he’s feeling under the weather. Nick won’t mind if there’s three instead of four of us. In fact he’ll probably prefer it.” Harry shrugs. He’s quite upset with Louis, but there’s nothing that can be done about it now.

Niall has a feeling that they haven’t finished with this conversation, but he plasters on a fake smile when Grimshaw rounds the corner.

——————

After the interview, they’re all piling into Liam’s car when the conversation starts back up again. “Let’s just go to his house. He can’t ignore us if we just show up. That would be entirely too rude.”

“Would it? Well, knowing you have an appointment and not showing up is rude as well. Unless you are on your deathbed, you show up. You’ve booked someone else’s time, so don’t waste it.” Liam starts his car and heads towards the absent singer’s home. “If he’s there, then we need to have a serious talk with Louis.”

Niall frowns. “I think it’s nice that Louis found someone to occupy his time. You know he’s never really been one for singing. He wanted to be a comedian and was just helping us out when we got this big. He’s just along for the ride. Maybe Zayn will be good for him.”

“Good for him? Niall,” Liam tightens his grip on the wheel as his anger grows. “He’s throwing away his career- ours as well. He’s only thinking about himself which he can’t do anymore. He has to realise that he can’t take a break or write what he wants. We’re a group- a team.”

“Yes,” Niall decides to cut off the angry tirade before it really starts growing, “but we’re also friends. As his friend you need to realise that he’s never been happy doing this and we’re killing his creative ideas more than letting them flourish. Maybe… Maybe we should give him an out. He seems so much happier writing for Zayn.”

Harry clears his throat. “Or we could stop insisting he choose. He loves writing for Zayn- we know that- but he also loves performing. So we get someone else to write for us or one of us finally steps up and helps out, big deal. Louis deserves to be just as happy as the rest of us.”

Liam sighs as they pull into the wrap around drive out front of the singer’s home. “Can we at least be upset with him for missing the interview this morning?”

“Depends on why he missed it.”

Turning off the engine, Liam grabs his spare key to Louis’ home.

It’s fairly quiet when they enter. The usual record music playing softly in the background and a warm glow coming from the main room is the only hint that Louis is even home. Niall is about to call out when a giggle catches his attention.

And then a woman’s shoe.

“Guys? Do you think we should-“

“Oh, Lou!”

Harry’s face turns bright red. “We should come back at a later time. I don’t think now is really an opportune moment.”

——————

March 1956

“Taylor, I promise.” Louis softly speaks into the telephone. He’s meant to be warming up for the show, but he had called Taylor instead. The girl was staying at his place to take care of his dog while he was away, but he found himself calling every night to check up on her.

“I just want to hear you say it again, Lou. Please? Just one more time- for me.”

He sighs, but can’t help the soft smile on his face as he thinks about her. He can picture her all curled up in his most comfortable chair in the study with Cliff and Bruce at her feet and a heavy book of poetry resting easy on the table where the phone receiver sat. He knows that she’s in those highly fashionable pants that hike up to her navel and a shirt that stops just above so the smallest sliver of skin is visible. Her hair is probably up in a high curled ponytail with a bow tied around it and all he can think about is how much he wants his fingers to be running through her blonde locks. It’s a domestic scene that he never knew he wanted until now.

“I’ll be home tomorrow night. I’ll be home and I’m going to fuck you good and hard until you’re begging me to let you come. It's just how you like it, isn’t it, darling?”

Her giggles are the only reply.

“Tayor, love, I’ve got to go. I’ve got to head to the stage soon.” He bites back those three words on his lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

——————

“So what kind of music are you leaving me with?” Grimshaw asks as he takes the record from Louis’ hand.

Louis shrugs, trying to keep it light. “Nothing. It’s a record of a friend of Zayn Malik- the man who sang at your Christmas party. I’ve been writing and recording with her and I thought maybe you’d want to be the one to discover her. Give it a listen, yeah?”

“Well,” Nick pushes his chair back from his desk and quickly crosses the room to his record player. “If you’ve written for her, I’m sure the lyrics will be great. I’ve always wondered why you hadn’t written for other artists before.” He places the record on the turntable and carefully moves the needle to the edge of the vinyl surface.

It takes a moment before the striking piano chords are playing loudly in the room. Suddenly Taylor’s voice joins in.

“We were both young when I first saw you. I close my eyes and the flashback starts: I'm standing there on a balcony in summer air. See the lights, see the party, the ball gowns, see you make your way through the crowd and say, ‘Hello.’ Little did I know...”

The music swells slightly and Louis tries not to smile as he can tell Nick is already hooked. He wrote this song drawing on Taylor and his relationship. He had always wanted to tell a story that wasn’t quite so dirty all the time and finally Taylor’s voice was his own.

“That you were Romeo, you were throwing pebbles and my daddy said, ‘Stay away from Juliet.’ And I was crying on the staircase begging you, ‘Please don't go.’ And I said, ‘Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone. I'll be waiting. All there's left to do is run. You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess. It's a love story. Baby, just say “Yes”.’”

Nick grabs the needle, plunging the room into silence.

“What are you doing?” Louis is bewildered.

“I want it. I don’t need to hear anymore. She’s got a lovely voice and your writing talents are brilliant, we already knew that. I’ll find a segment to play it on. The sentiment is beautiful, just what this country needs. We’ve had the death of our King and hundreds of countrymen die because of the heavy fog at the end of last year, but this whimsical sentiment is perfect.”

Louis smiles brightly. “So you’ll play it?”

“Absolutely!”

——————

“'Cause we were both young when I first saw you.”

Niall turns towards his friend, smiling happily at the two artists. “You wrote that?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, Niall.” Louis laughs as he grabs his cup of tea from the table beside him. “I know all of our music is erections and orgasms hidden with colourful language, but I can write lyrically beautiful pieces when I want.”

“Well I think you’re brilliant, darling.” Taylor smiles brightly and kisses at his cheek.

Harry rolls his eyes. “You’re only saying that because he’s taking you to bed almost every night.”

“Harry!” Liam looks scandalised. “That is not polite conversation. We don’t speak of that type of thing.”

Taylor just laughs harder. “Oh it’s perfectly alright, Liam. He’s quite right- about the bed part. I think he’s brilliant with or without the sex.”

Liam watches in disgust as Louis falls more and more in love with her. He needs to put a stop to this before it goes any further.

——————

They’re at another party when Liam sees his opportunity.

“Taylor,” he says nonchalantly towards the girl on Louis’ arm. “Have you met Simon Cowell? I do believe he’s over there.”

Taylor’s eyes widen as she cranes her next to see the music mogul. “Simon Cowell? He’s only the biggest name in music that isn’t an act. Anyone who’s anyone is contracted by him.”

Liam nods. “Would you like me to introduce you?”

“Would I!” Taylor lights up like a Christmas tree. “You wouldn’t mind, would you, darling?”

“Of course not.” Louis smiles and kisses at her cheek. “In fact, I’m going to use the lavatory. Liam can introduce you while I’m gone.”

Taylor smiles brightly and watches him walk away. Her eyes shift to Liam, the smile turning into something a bit darker as her focus shifts. “Well aren’t you going to introduce me?”

Liam can only smirk. He knew there was a reason Taylor stayed with Louis. Hook, line, and sinker.

——————

August 1956

“Louis… These new lyrics are kind of…” Niall tries to find a way to vocalise his thoughts without tearing his friend down. “Well they seem darker than what you normally write.”

“Yeah. This almost sounds like heartbreak.” Harry friend and flips through the lyric sheet he was handed. “Hauntingly beautiful, but definitely not what you usually give us.”

Louis shrugs. “That’s all I have right now. Take it or leave it.”

“Does this have anything to do with Zayn and Tay-“

“Don’t fucking say their names.” Louis lashes out. “Why would it have anything to do with them? It’s not like they used me to get connections or anything. They didn’t take a journal I had filled with song ideas for- full songs with lyrics and piano chords- and just fucking leave in the middle of the night. It’s not like they suddenly found someone better and left me.”

The studio space is quiet.

“Oh, Louis,” Niall is the first to hurry to his side and pull him into a hug. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Louis tries his best to keep his composure, but he catches sight of the song sheets in Harry’s hands and the title hits him hard. Love you, Goodbye almost seemed too sweet compared to the way things actually happened. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Do what?”

“This!” Louis shouts and flings his arms around to encompass the space. “I don’t want to write anymore! No more writing, no more singing, no more performing! I’m done. I’m going back to Doncaster and… I’ll figure it out there.”

“What! Louis, you can’t just-“

“He can though.” Niall cuts off the line of protest he can already feel brewing in his other friend. “Louis, you need to do what is best for you. If that means washing your hands of the industry, so be it.”

Louis nods. He never wanted to sing anyway.

——————

February 1961

Louis sat in his home staring at photos from a different time. His mother, god rest her soul, had made him keep everything he brought back to Doncaster- even photos that brought back bad memories. He’s busy staring at one of him and Taylor smiling brightly with Zayn off in the background smirking like he knew something they didn’t. In the end, Zayn did know something Louis didn’t; he knew the plan to break Louis’ heart and rob him of any creativity.

He doesn’t know why he pulled this album out. He knew looking over these pictures were going to hurt more than anything. He chalks it up to the wave of nostalgia he felt this morning after hearing Niall’s voice singing to him through the radio.

It was weird, hearing Niall solo for the first time. He kept expecting Liam to join in with his higher harmonies and round out the sound, but there was nothing but Niall’s soft baritone crooning away about love and loss.

Finally something Louis could relate to.

He had felt his hand twitch at the first note from Niall’s mouth. The usual twitch that meant he should be writing. He hadn’t felt it in awhile and figured it had been a knee-jerk reaction. That had been hours ago though and he could still feel the tug in his mind and heart.

He hadn’t written anything in five years? Why would he try again? Was if he was shit at it?

Letting out a long suffering sigh, he grabbed a pencil and some paper. He stared at the photos for inspiration. He could take this pain and make a song. He had done it before. He could do it again.

He just needed the words.

------------

December 1962

Louis stood backstage, nervous and ready to pass out. Tonight at the London Palladium, the biggest variety show in all England was trying to pull off the biggest surprise of the decade.

He looked to his left and smiled as he saw Niall tuning his guitar. He looked to his right and saw Liam doing vocal warm ups. They were all performing individually and then were going to perform a melody of their old songs together. It was going to be a night to remember.

He knew he was on after Niall, but he was still debating on which songs he should do. His backing band was well versed in all his tracks so he could do a last minute change in setlist if he wanted, but he had chosen the four songs for a reason. The lyrics were some of the best he had to offer and he was not going to disappoint.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, premiering his songs for the first time anywhere Mister Louis Tomlinson.”

Louis blinked a few times before it registered that he had to take the stage. He took one final breath, catching a smile and good luck from Niall, before taking his place on the stage. He thanked the host before turning to his band. “We Made It, yeah?”

He turns back around and looks straight into the camera. It was his time to shine.

#My writing #sololouiegiftexchange

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maaaaaatryoshka0325 · 4 years

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As Above, So Below - Kim Seungmin Paranormal Investigator AU Part 1

(Next Part ->)

I’m finally posting it ya’ll! :D

The reader's abilities are based off of those of Lorraine Warren's. She and her husband, Ed, were paranormal investigators. If you need an insight on her abilities, watch 'the conjuring'. It's great movie, hands down one of my faves.

“These pictures were taken during the exorcism last year." Seungmin's voice rang throughout the large classroom.

Kim Seungmin, the well renown paranormal investigator, stood before you in a classroom in your town. You watched his videos all the time, followed his social media. He was a big inspiration for you, someone you knew would understand you.

You have a gift, you see. One not many people would understand. You had gotten into a car accident when you were younger, leaving you not only with PTSD, but with an unnatural gift. You could see and hear things no one else could, you could be brought into almost another dimension, the other side showing you things from the past. You were known as a clairvoyant.

You watched Seungmin’s presentation in awe, excitement filling you every time he showed something new, something you didn’t see on his blog. Your eyes kept meeting his, but every time they met, the girls behind you would squeal, especially the one in the middle.

The girl in the middle used to be your best friend, until a few years ago. Kim Eunmi , now one of the most popular girls in your college/university. She always walked around with two other girls, Lim Hyuna and Song Inhye. They were your “bullies” if you’d call it that. They wouldn’t say much to you, usually a sly remark here and there, but they would always openly giggle behind your back or whisper almost loud enough for you to hear; and it all came from an incident a few years back, the incident where Eunmi abandoned you as a friend then spread rumors about you, making your high school career a living Hell. You were labeled a “freak” and spent your high school years by yourself.

“Here is another slide from the case of Go Jinjoo, the man who was possessed and kill thirteen women in a span of three months.” Seungmin’s voice broke you out of your thoughts, your eyes landing on the pictures of the man on the screen.

He had blood covering his shirt, his teeth grit and blood splattered across his face. His iris’ were completely black, his veins popping out of his face and neck. He looked possessed, to say the least. Your eyes searched the picture, your eyes sensing the dark aura around him. Your eyes scanned every detail you can, and you felt someone’s eyes on you.

You peeled your eyes from the screen and made direct eye contact with Seungmin, his eyes staying on you longer than you could never believe. You heard a squeal behind you, and your heart dropped, thinking he could’ve just been admiring Eunmi. Eunmi was very attractive, with her silky dark hair, large eyes, and beautiful face. She was much more to look at, or that’s what you thought at least. You remembered all the boys would gawk and stare at her when you two would hangout, and it got worse in high school. You tried not to pay attention to it, but it was hard when every time you went to your locker, which was straight across from hers, a guy was either trying to confess or give her something. You were shocked and disappointed when Seungmin ended the presentation, cursing yourself for not paying enough attention. Oh well, there’s always a next time. Seungmin looked at you, and your heart fluttered, then quickly dropped as you felt someone bump your shoulder, and realized Eunmi was walking down the stairs. Her eyes were mocking towards you, and you knew she was going to purposely try to flirt with Seungmin right in front of you. Eunmi knew she was naturally pretty, and she flaunted it a lot. You never understood why she wore the amount of makeup that she did, she was effortlessly and naturally stunning. She bat her false eyelashes at Seungmin, pressing her arms closer to her chest to make her boobs pop out more. You rolled your eyes and packed your notebook in your bag, having had taken notes while listening.

“Hi Seungmin-ahhh!” Eunmi greeted him in a sweet voice.

“Oh, hello.” He greeted with a pretty smile.

“I’m Eunmi, and I’m a huge fan. That presentation was something else!” She giggled.

“Ah, thank you! I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He said with a polite bow.

“Now Seungmin-ahhh.” She giggled, leaning close to him.

You wanted to snap your pencil in half. Eunmi knee how much you had loved his documentaries, you had started watching his videos when you were in middle school together, and she always told you it was lame. Seungmin has the gift since he was younger, and you had admired him ever since your accident.

“Saw you looking at me this whole lecture.” She purred, fixing the buttons on his white button up. “Is there something you wanted to say?”

You quickly made your way out of the room, and Eunmi watched you walk out with a smirk, but another set of eyes were on you as well.

“Actually… Uh… That girl that was sitting in front of you, what’s her name?” He asked.

“Who? Y/N?” She scoffed. “Just some weirdo. She thinks she can see and sense ghosts. She just does it for attention.”

“I see. Well, it was nice meeting the three of you.” Seungmin said with a smile before grabbing his bag and walking away.

“Wait, Seungmin!” Eunmi called, grabbing his shirt sleeve.

“Weren’t you looking at me?” She asked, her eyes big.

“You’re very pretty, but it wasn’t you I was looking at. And I don’t look at petty women.” He said casually, pulling his sleeve out of her grasp. “Have a nice day, ladies.”

You walked into the courtyard, the pink trees of the garden glowing in the soft spring sunlight. You sat on the stone bench and opened your notebook, going through the notes you took and sighing.

“I should’ve paid better attention.” You groaned, dropping your head into your notebook. “Stupid stupid stupid.”

“I think you’re pretty smart, actually.”

Your head shot up at the voice, your nose almost brushing Seungmin’s. Shock was in your eyes as he smiled down at you.

“Mind if I sit?” He asked, pointing to the empty spot on the stone bench.

“Oh, sure!” You said in a voice a little too high pitches for your liking, making you almost cringe.

He sat down beside you, his eyes going to your notebook.

“You took notes on the session?” He asked, his eyes full of admiration.

“U-Um yeah… I love what you do.” You said shyly.

“I see… You seemed very interested in the whole thing. Almost like you knew how it felt to have these abilities.” He said, looking directly at you.

Although he had such a sweet looking face, his eyes held a ferocity that you have never seen before. It was breathtaking to look into massive orbs you’ve only ever saw on a screen.

“I… I guess you can say I have a gift.” You said lowly, your eyes not leaving his.

“What kind of gift is that?” He asked, his eyes still searching yours.

You slid him the notebook that you had written your notes down in. He looked at the notebook and slowly went to the first page, reading what you wrote and drew sketches of, all of your experiences on the finely outlined pages. His long finger tips followed where he was reading, his eyes quickly scanning the pages as he continued to flip through it. He stopped at one, an amused smile on his face.

“So you know, huh?” He asked.

“What?” You asked.

“Most of the episodes of Ghost Hunters is staged and acted out.” He said with a light chuckle.

“Even if I didn’t have this ability, it’s painfully obvious.” You pointed out, scrunching your nose in distaste.

“How else do you know? And how can you tell when it isn’t staged?” Seungmin asked.

“Well, for starters, their reactions. When it’s fake, you can tell when they over dramatize it, like it’s too much. I also don’t see anything when it’s fake.” You said.

“See anything?” He asked.

“I can see shadows… Morphs… Whole spirits.” You said hesitantly.

His eyes searched yours, seeing the sincerity in them.

“You can just see shapes and figures?” He asked.

“No…” You said lowly. “I can see them… Usually when they just want to be seen.”

“What if they don’t want to be seen?” He asked.

“I can see their shapes and figures, and I can feel them.” You responded.

Silence fell over the two of you, Seungmin’s eyes going back down to your notebook and flicking through the pages, stopping at a certain one.

“What’s this?” He asked.

It was from the last night you and Eunmi had spent the night together as friends. The night she got scared away, the night she held a grudge against you for. You slid it out of his hands and closed it, a sigh leaving your lips.

“An experience I wish I could forget.” You sighed.

He went on to say something, when you gave him a sad smile.

“They show me things.” You said.

“They show you things?” He asked.

You nodded and played with your fingers.

“They show me what happened to them… Or what could happen to other people.” You whispered.

His eyes were soft as he laid a gentle hand on your shoulder, giving it a soft rub.

“You’re a clairvoyant Y/N.” He said.

You nodded and sighed when he lightly grabbed your chin and turned your head towards him.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, nothing at all. I know what it’s like to have a gift no one understands, I know it’s lonely, but I’m here for you now, okay?” He said with a bright smile.

“You’re only in town for a couple of days.” You giggled with a small blush.

He fell silent for a moment, biting his lip and thinking.

“Why don’t you come for an investigation? We’re also here to investigate a house about an hour away from here.” He suggested with a smile.

“Will that really be okay?” You asked.

“Of course!” He laughed. “It’s just me and three other people.”

“O-Okay.” You nodded with a shy smile.

“Perfect! We have to leave in an hour, do you need to get changed or anything?” He asked.

“No, I think I’m okay.” You laughed. “Why? Is my outfit bad?”

“Not at all, just don’t want you to catch a cold.” He laughed.

You put your notebook back in your bag as he stood up and stretched his hand out to you, a smile on his face. You smiled back and lightly took his hand as he helped you up, and you felt something in that little touch. It was like a spark, a small fire emitting itself in through your hand and all throughout your body, warming your heart as you walked step for step beside him. His light brown hair caught the sun in a beautiful way, his hair shining brightly. He glanced at you, giving you the whitest smile you’ve ever seen, and you swore it could blind anyone with how white his teeth were.

He lead you to a small, hippie fashioned Volkswagen (if ya’ll know, ya’ll know.) Two men and a woman were standing outside of it, and the one turned and gave you a friendly smile.

“Hi there.” He greeted you.

“Hi.” You greeted him and the others with a polite bow.

“Seungmin, who is this?” The woman asked.

“This is Y/N, she’ll be joining us today.” He said, introducing you.

“I’m Hyunjin.” The one who smiled at you said.

“I’m Felix.” The other said with a big smile. “And that little ball of sunshine over there is Haru.”

You looked over at the woman, who scowled at you and Felix.

“Why is she coming?” Haru asked.

Wow, rude.

“She has talents that we need.” Seungmin said, putting his stuff in the back.

Haru scoffed and eyed you up.

“And what talent is that? Taking up space?” She asked.

“Haru, stop being so rude.” Hyunjin gasped. “Seungmin doesn’t invite just anybody.”

Haru went to open her mouth, when Seungmin shot her and look, making her purse her lips.

“She’s a clairvoyant. I’m curious about her, and she’s welcome to come with us. Don’t make this hard on her, she doesn’t deserve that.” Seungmin said, his voice serious.

Haru rolled her eyes and turned away, stalking towards the back of the SUV. Felix gave you a friendly smile and took you to the front seat.

“You’ll ride up front with Seungmin so you won’t have to deal with our little ball of sunshine in the back.” He said with a smile.

You nodded and slid into the front seat, catching the glare from Haru. Eunmi was already a lot to deal with, but now this girl? You only have known her five minutes! Seungmin sat next to you, flashing you a smile as he pulled out his GPS.

“So, what exactly is going on at this home?” You asked.

Haru scoffed in the back seat, and Felix elbowed her.

“A couple has been hearing strange noises around their home, and we’re just going over to see what exactly is happening.” Seungmin said.

“Most likely nothing too exciting.” Hyunjin said, getting the camera he had in his hands ready.

“Do you record before you even find out if it’s haunted or not?” You asked.

“Of course, I wanted to start a vlog where we post the most stupidest encounters and how goofy the residents look when they realize their house isn’t haunted.” Hyunjin giggled.

“Why didn’t you?” You asked with a laugh.

He pouted and looked at Seungmin. “Seungmin said it’s unprofessional.”

“And it is.” Seungmin said as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“I don’t know, I’d love to watch them.” You laughed. “It might attract more viewers.”

“We’re not doing this for viewers.” Haru snapped.

“Lose the attitude Haru.” Hyunjin said, looking at her. “The more viewers we get, the more recommendations we’ll receive.

“People like horror and humor, if you give them both, they’ll be all over you guys.” You said.

“Or attract people who just want the attention.” Haru said.

You fell silent, not wanting to say anything else. Seungmin flicked a look at Haru through the rearview mirror and she huffed, shoving her headphones in.

“I’m sorry about her, she doesn’t take to people easily.” Seungmin sighed.

“It’s okay, it’s no big deal.” You said with a small reassuring smile.

When you pulled up to the house, you noticed the roof looked a little caved in, probably from the recent storm. You followed Seungmin out of the SUV and up to the house as the other three grabbed their cameras and setup. The couple who owned the property came out, and you noticed the two of them were fairly young.

“Mr. Im, Mrs. Im.” Seungmin greeted both of them with a bow, and you followed suit.

“We’re so glad you’re here, we haven't been able to sleep for days.” Mrs. Im sighed.

“What seems to be keeping you up?” Seungmin asked.

“There’s this terrible creaking sound that usually happens at night, and it sounds like there’s footsteps coming from the attic.” Mr. Im said, his eyes wide.

“We’ll take a look.” Seungmin reassured them.

He beckoned you to follow him, Hyunjin coming in directly behind you both with the camera on the both of you. Seungmin stopped at the top step, turning towards the camera and smiling. He bumped you with his elbow, and you turned and smiled as the camera started rolling.

“This is Seungmin back with another video, and today we’re investing a couples house. Mr. Im says there’s been strange creaking and what sounds like footsteps coming from the attic. Today we have with us a new friend of mine, Y/N.” He said, giving you a smile.

You bowed to the camera and smiled brightly as you followed Seungmin up the stairs. Your eyes scanned the hallway and rooms you passed by, hoping to catch something on this case.

“I’ll show you guys the attic.” Mr. Im said.

“Stay here for a moment.” Seungmin whispered to you as he walked up behind Mr. Im, Haru walking by you and giving you a petty smirk as she did.

You rolled your eyes and turned to see Mrs. Im, a small smile on her face.

“Are you new?” She asked.

“Um- sorta? I mean, I was at one of his sessions and he invited me to come here.” You said with a smile.

You turned your head and saw a picture on the wall, Mr. Im holidng Mrs. Im up in the air, the both of them smiling brightly.

A scene of the two of them running through the autumn leaves filled your vision. Mr. Im tackled Mrs. Im in a hug and they toppled over into a big pile of leaves. They both laughed like crazy as Mr. Im covered Mrs. Im in kisses, her bright white smile glistening in the sunlight. Another flash and he was on one knee, a beautiful ring in a carefully crafted box in his hand.

“What a beautiful fall day to propose.” You said as you held the picture in your hands.

“What? How could you tell?” Mrs. Im asked in shock.

“It’s called an insight, you get to see little pieces of someones life.” You said with a smile.

You heard something and turned to see Seungmin standing there, a smile on his face.

“Was she right?” He asked.

“She was.” Mrs. Im breathed, her eyes full of curiosity.

His smile grew wider as he walked over to you.

“Why don’t you come upstairs and help us get this figured out.” He said.

You nodded and followed him up the stairs and into the attic, scanning the room. You couldn't’ feel or detect anything, it felt normal.

“And we just keep hearing THUD THUD THUD THUD!” Mr. Im explained to Felix and Haru.

“Seems like you’ve got an annoying one on your hands.” Haru said, then turning to you and arching brow. “And what do you think, little miss clairvoyant?”

“Not sure yet.” You said flatly, looking around.

The place wasn’t haunted, obviously. But you needed to show them that it was something else. You pressed your foot on a board that looked worn out.

THUD.

Bingo.

“I found your ghost.” You said.

“Who is it? Is it an old man? A woman? GASP! Is it a little girl?!” Mrs. Im squealed.

“No, no, and no.” You replied, pushing on the board as it thud.

“Was that the sound you were hearing?” You asked.

“Oh my god, it was! But doesn’t that mean something had to be stepping on it?” Mr. Im asked.

“By the looks of it, you keep that old rocking chair on it.” You said, tilting your head to the rocking chair in the corner.

“The wind or draft push the rocking chair, which creaks.” You said, moving the chair over top of the board.

You rocked it, and it thumped and creaked. Sighs of relief left the couple, then embarrassment washed over both of them.

“We are so sorry for wasting your time!” Mr. Im gasped.

“It’s okay!” Seungmin laughed. “Usually these places aren’t haunted, there’s always a logical explanation, and it looks like Y/N found it.”

“I’ll get that old board fixed right away.” He reassured everyone and his wife.

The couple walked you both out, and Mrs. Im held your hand.

“Thank you so much, you really impressed me with that insight. I hope they keep you.” She said.

“No, thank you for that experience! I’ve always loved Seungmin’s adventures, and being on one was a dream come true.” You said with a smile.

“I hope you get to stay. You really are talented.” She said, waving goodbye to you.

Seungmin drove to a small diner as you all sat down to eat.

“I’ll cover yours.” Seungmin said.

“No its fine-”

“Listen, that investigation went so quick because of you. And that insight? You’re very talent Y/N.” He said.

As you ate, you kept feeling Haru’s glare, and it was starting to make you uncomfortable.

“Haru, look at your food.” Felix said, glancing at her.

She slammed her fork into her food and continued eating, chewing angrily.

“I need to use the restroom.” She said, abruptly getting up and walking away.

“She’s just made because she believed it was haunted, and you knew it wasn’t and proved her wrong.” Hyunjin reassured you.

You nodded awkwardly and Seungmin rubbed your shoulder.

“You were amazing back there Y/N.” He said.

“Thank you, it was nothing really.” You bowed with a blush.

When Haru got back, you all ate quietly then left. Before you made it to the SUV, Seungmin turned to you, Felix and Hyunjin smiling brightly. Haru narrowed her eyes, anger on her face.

“No.” She growled.

“This isn’t your decision.” Seungmin said.

She stormed off to the SUV, slamming the door. You looked at them in confusion, and Seungmin gently held your hand.

“Y/N, I have a huge question.” He said.

Your heart hammered through your chest as he smiled at you.

“Will you be apart of our crew?”

#kim Seungmin #seungmin #stray kids seungmin #stray kids kim seungmin #skz seungmin #skz kim seungmin #stray kids #straykids #stray kids imagines #skz #skz imagines #seungmin au #kim seungmin au

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kimberly-spirits13 · 4 years

Text

The Conference (Day 1, Pt 1)

Pairing: Damian Wayne x reader

Synopsis: You are the daughter of a famous politician and are attending his conference in New York. After hearing your concerns about not knowing almost anyone in the top 1% that your family was in to whom was your age, he and your mother decide that it is time to meet your father’s friend’s son, Damian Wayne. The only issue? He’s the most arrogant, rude, and maybe handsomest person that you’d ever heard of.

Notes: I’m going to do this story in parts. Does anyone know how the fan fic writers make those master lists???? Also, I just wanna say, I like to make stories and the Y/N thing smart because I hate seeing the Y/N x person where Y/N is either dumb, unambitious, or just average and doesn’t care about school or working for something. It just bothers me.

Warnings: None

“Father must I attend this conference?” You asked looking out of the window of the large black GMC that your father was driving.

“Yes, Y/N. You need to have some time off from your work. Plus, you always love these conferences every summer. What’s wrong with this one?” Your father replied looking at you some and then back on the road.

You sighed, “The issue is that I’m 16, I have goals, ambitions, and drives that I want to achieve, but I would also not mind meeting people my age with the same mind set other than Brooklyn who aren’t some 40 year -old congressmen or businessmen who I could only use later in life to climb to the top.” You tapped your fingers on the leather of the car door interior sitting yourself up more, gazing at the New York skyline coming into view.

“Y/N, sweetie that makes perfect sense. Your mother and I have talked about this, and we have decided that I should talk to one of my friends about you meeting his son who is your age.” He said, the smallest sign of delight on his face.

“And who would that be?” You asked impatiently.

“Well, my friend Bruce Wayne of course.” He answered.

“Oh wow, should’ve guessed.” You retorted sarcastically, “And which one of his children will I have the “absolute pleasure and honor” of putting up with?” You rolled your eyes mentally going over the list of reasons why this was a bad idea and why you would rather be home with your precious German Shepherd, Apollo and grey kitten, Pandora.

“Be nice Y/N.” He scolded, “And you are meeting Damian. He is a perfectly respectable young man, and I’m sure that you will find that he is not what the media would make him out to be.” “Plus, you might find that the two of you are pretty alike, no matter how shocking that might be.”

“Fine. I will try to be nice. And also, was that an insult?” You asked giving him some major side eye.

“No, you two are alike in some ways. Whether that is a good thing or not, Bruce and I have yet to know.” He informed you, turning the music back up, probably to keep you from asking anymore questions and bursting his bubble of excitement.

“Great,” You thought, “the last thing that I need is some rich boy who is apparently extremely handsome and possibly rude and obnoxious getting in my way.” You thought about what had happened the first and last time that you had dated someone, that certain boyfriend ended up cheating on you when you were in the hospital after having a serious breakdown of sorts. That is what led you to make a vow of some kind never to fall into another relationship, because for all that you knew, it would hold you back from your goals in life. Maybe it was irrational, maybe it was just you playing it safe, but for all that you knew, it was working so far, so why change the method?

The car pulled up to the Plaza Hotel, paparazzi and media everywhere taking pictures of the car when you and your father arrived. See, your father was a famous politician and radio/ tv host. All your life, he had been a well -known person, but it only really blew up when you were 12. You moved into what would be considered a massive new house, maybe an hour outside of New York and suddenly, you were put into a new school, had new fake friends, and were surrounded by the top 1% of the elite. You had made a name for yourself as well. There was something about attending the events, meeting the most important names in the world, and slowly building your own empire that was the sweetest tasting thing in existence. It was terrifying but also, the rush of excitement and new comings that you had desired was welcomed with open arms. Well, at least it was like that for a little while. Now, after 4 years, while you were grateful, sometimes it felt like the hustle and bustle of what you had been shoved into was too much.

The both of you walked into the hotel, bags in hand before retreating to the front desk to get your room keys as fast as possible. The lady at the front quickly checked the two of you in, seeing the swarm of people outside and recognizing you and your father. The two of you took the back, staff elevators to avoid any guests that could possibly be at the hotel for the conference that your father was holding this week for four nights. No one said a word in the elevator. The only noise was the faint sound of the machine operating and then the ding of the bell when you had come upon the 12th floor. You walked down the hallway behind your father who held the room key up to the scanner before another buzz and then a click could be heard as the door unlocked.

You smiled upon entering the room. The suite had two bedrooms, the master to the right and the guest to the left. In between that was a foyer and then sitting room. To the left of the sitting room was the tv area and then office. To the right, the dining room and kitchen. There were balconies scattered about the hotel suite along with grand elegant windows overlooking Central Park and the bustling street below. New York was your favorite city. You planned on getting a sky rise penthouse there one day on the Upper East Side when you had the money and were out of college. Another bonus was that one of your best friends, Brooklyn, who was the daughter of a very famous fashion designer lived in New York so you could visit her here.

“Father, who all is attending the opening dinner tonight?” You asked taking your phone out of your back pocket of your black jeans.

“The sponsors and a few honored guests of the conference.” He replied, “Then, after that, a few of them are coming back to the hotel room, if you can just stay in your room that would be great.” “Uhh let’s see, a few representatives from Facebook, Instagram, Google, and then a few congressmen are coming. Matt Michael, Tom Dunkin, Brad Thomas, are the congressmen guests of honor at dinner and then Bruce and Damian will be in attendance.”

“What time?” You asked recognizing the names, “I mean what time must we head downstairs and what time should I keep to my room?”

“We need to walk down at 6:50 because the dinner starts at 7 and then everyone is coming up at 9 since the dinner should end at 8:30.” He answered.

“Got it.” You said walking into your bedroom on the left side.

It was 4:30 know so you figured that you could unpack and then get ready for the night. You flipped the light switch on in your bedroom and opened your suitcase to reveal a nicely organized bag with everything sectioned off in different parts of the bag.

“If only it would look like this when we leave.” You chuckled to yourself unpacking your clothes and putting them into the dresser and closet.

You chose what you would be wearing to the dinner that night, it was going to have to be a lovely dark blue dress that came just above your knees with an off the shoulder cut. It had a top half that kind of looked like a piece of armor, but this time with small diamonds on it. You chose black heels to go with the dress, and small diamond earrings to top everything off. After picking the outfit, you headed to the bathroom with your makeup case, shower things, curling iron, and hair drier. You turned on your favorite music and got into the shower quickly washing your hair and shaving your legs.

After 15 minutes, you had gotten out of the shower and was in a robe that the hotel had left in the room for you in your closet. You started with your hair, and dried it. It took some time because of how long and thick it was, but after that, curling it was a breeze. You didn’t bother putting hairspray in it since you were just going to sleep in a braid that night and didn’t feel like washing the gunk out of your hair after the spray had set.

After that you took out your makeup. This was your least favorite part, however, it had to be done. You got some primer on and then put on a small bit of foundation before powdering. After that, you put on some plush and mascara and sprayed your face with setting spray. It wasn’t much, however the idea of it wasn’t at all your favorite. Once that was done, you slipped on your dress and put on some perfume and your shoes. Your phone was fully charged, and when you left the bedroom, your father was waiting so that the both of you could go to the dinner.

“So, have you met Damian before?” You asked as you and your father walked down the hall to the elevator.

“I have a few times, all when I was meeting with Bruce for a meeting or other social event.” He replied, hitting the button on the elevator to take you guys to the floor with the ballroom.

“Lovely.” You stated turning your iPhone on silence.

The both of you walked down a hallway again and rounded the corner to where to sound of people talking and moving around could be heard. You guys were perfectly on time but a few people had come in a bit early. Your father entered the room first and was approached by a few of the men in there. You stood by him, smiling and only talking when you were spoken to which was pretty often considering the name that you had already made in the political and business fields that your father was also a part of. After maybe ten minutes or so of making your way through the crowd, you noted your father’s pace quicken like he saw someone that he knew. You followed him to where a tall man with jet black hair and blue eyes standing text to who you presume to be his son, with darker skin, the same black hair, and emerald green eyes.

“He’s cute, cute but where’s the food?” You thought as you followed to them making slight eye contact with the boy. This had to be Damian and his father, Mr. Wayne. And for all you knew that this point, your father seemed pretty confident that you two would get along.

#damian wayne x reader #dc x reader #batfam x reader #robin x y/n #Damian Wayne #batboys x reader #red robin x reader #fan fic stuff #fan fic #batfam

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athenadcvell · 4 years

Text

The Mechanic: Pt. 2

Link: Part 1

Summary: This is the second part to the first part of The Mechanic. Basically about Harley surviving the snap and becoming apart of Tony’s family. May or may not make more parts, we’ll see.

Word Count:

Tony was never the biggest fan of post-apocalyptic movies.

They were all so… unrealistic. If the world ended, the Avengers would be there to pick it back up. It wouldn’t resemble those over dramatic, grey skied dystopias where everybody is always depressed.

However, then the world actually ‘ended’. And the world may have not been completely like those movies, but it was pretty damn similar.

And that’s why Tony made it his number one priority to keep all sadness and despair away from his sweet little home in the woods. Away from his family.

Family.

Just a few years ago, Tony could barely say he had a family. There was Rhodey, and Happy, plus the rest of the Avengers, but in the end, Tony would go home to an empty house. Then, Pepper gave him a second chance, and even with the snap killing away someone he had held so close to his heart, he had found it in him to rebuild from the rubble.

That’s why now, as he picked up spare clothing around the house for the laundry, Tony cant help but stop and smile as his family peacefully sits in the living room. Not just his wife, but also Harley, who he had legally adopted not too long ago.

A very pregnant Pepper lay on the couch, reading whatever book she had picked out this time, with Harley, cross legged on the floor playing a video game. Tony wasn't quite sure what game he played, but he knew it managed to consume most of his attention as of late.

“Harley,” Pepper looked up from her book, barely managing to catch the teens attention. “Could you grab me a glass of water?”

Harley turned around, raising a brow at the glass sitting on the table.

“I got that one for you, like, five minutes ago. You already finished it?”

“There’s another human being in me, consuming almost everything I consume,” Pepper deadpanned. “Excuse me for being thirsty.”

Harley dropped the remote, holding his hands up and muttering a sorry as he went to complete the task.

“Don’t even try arguing with her,” Tony said quietly as Harley passed him. “Especially In this state, there’s no chance in winning without unleashing the monster.”

It earned him a small laugh, which was enough for Tony. When Harley had first begun living in the compound, there was rarely a smile on his lips. It was expected. His family was dead, he had just hiked for days with nothing but a small backpack and survivor’s guilt… it would be tough for him to get back to his usual self.

However, not too long after moving into the cabin, things started to look up. Pepper announcing she was pregnant. Planning for their small little wedding in front of the lake. A family was built from broken pieces, and though Harley would still wake in the middle of the night with nightmares, or have a breakdown at random moments if he happens to find something triggering, both Pepper and Tony were always there for him.

Harley left down the hall to retrieve the water, while Tony and Pepper returned to their tasks. The chiming of the doorbell broke concentration.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, who is it?” Tony asked.

“Not sure, boss,” The A.I. responded, projecting an image on Tony’s watch. A man he didn’t recognize stood at the doorway awkwardly, dark haired and blue eyed. He frowned down at the picture.

“Who is it, Tony?” Pepper looked from her book, noticing her husband’s troubled expression. Tony shook his head, giving her a small smile.

“Probably just some lost hiker. I’ll go shoo him off,” Setting down his basket, Tony walked over to the door and opened it, giving the man a polite smile, while remaining alert in case of attack. “Can I help you?”

The man’s gaze shifted from his shoes to the now open doorway, clearly exhausted. There was something… familiar about him. Tony couldn’t quite place what.

“I… I’m sorry, I’m looking for two kids,” The man explained, running a frantic hand through his hair.

Tony’s heart dropped at his words, as pieces began to click together, He refused to give in just yet.

“Kids?” He repeated, clicking his tongue. “Not sure I can help you. Sorry about that,” Tony moved to shut the door, however, the man was quick to place a hand on it. Tony stared at the hand on his door, then back at the man. Some nerves this guy had.

“Harley and Sarah Keener,” The man continued, ignoring the hard set gaze Tony was giving him. “Please, I need to find them. I-I need to know if they’re still alive.”

“If you’re looking for someone, then go to the tombstones. Everyone dead is listed there,” Tony knew it was cruel to turn this man away, especially considering who he was. But he doesn’t care. He won’t jeopardize his family. “Other than that, I think you should leave.”

“They’re my kids, please!” The man exclaimed.

Tony knew. A part of him knew the second F.R.I.D.A.Y threw up the projection. However, there is a fine line between thinking you know, and actually knowing. And he has just crossed it.

“Please,” The man repeated, his voice cracking. “My name is Jack Williams, and if you know where they are-”

“Harley’s here,” Tony snapped, cutting him off. He could lie, turn him away. But that wasn't his choice, and he then realized that. Harley should have been able to make that decision on his own.

“W-what?” Jack’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Harley’s in the kitchen right now,” Tony explained nonchalantly. “He lives with me and my wife now, after his mom and sister died. Oh, and after you decided to make a one way trip to 7-Eleven.”

Jack’s eyes gazed down as he processed the information. His ex: Dead. Daughter: Dead. But his son? Sitting inside that house, not a clue that his deadbeat father was waiting outside, hoping for some kind of reunion.

“Then let me see him,” Jack frowned at Tony, trying to step into the house. His path is immediately blocked.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Tony stares at him coldly, pushing his shoulders back. “You take one more step towards this door, and I’ve got about a hundred security protocols that I can initiate with just one word. And guess what? They all end with your ass six feet in the ground, and Harley doesn’t ever have to know you were here.”

Pepper has caught sight of what is going on at this point, silently watching her husband handle this. She would intervene, however, being as pregnant as she is, she doesn’t want to risk the baby.

“But I won’t,” Tony continued, easing the stiffness in his shoulders. No use getting worked up for this waste of space. “That’s Harley’s decision.” Jack opened his mouth to object, but the door had already been shut in his face.

“Tony?” Pepper sighed, searching her husband’s face for some kind answer. She’s become fluent in reading him, but this is an all new emotion all together. A fatherly one.

“Sorry that took so long, I found a spider and was trying to get it outta the house,”

Harley announced as he exited the kitchen, running a hand through his brown locks while carrying a chilled glass of water in the other. Pepper silently took it from him, trying her best to put on a grateful smile. It came out morbid.

Harley’s own smile faltered at her grim features, turning to Tony, who didn’t even attempt to cover the mixed feelings of emotions written across his eyes and lips.

“What’s going on?” The teenager turned between the two, clearly confused.

“Your father's here,” Tony doesn’t try to sugarcoat or ease into the topic. It’s best to just rip it off like a bandage, which he does, and Harley’s response is just as expected.

“W-what?” His voice was barely above a whisper, as if a lower tone would mean the words would just rewrite themselves.

“He wants to see you,” Tony stared at the floor, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“Did you tell him to go?” Harley asked, swallowing thickly. Tony gazed up, his brows furrowing together. Not angrily, but… sadly.

“No,” He shook his head. “It’s not my place to tell him to go. He’s not here for me,” Harley sucked in a sharp breath, wordlessly walking to the door. He walked in quick, loud steps, but there is a cave in his shoulders from the fear and nervousness. Why wouldn’t he be? He spent countless nights running to his parents’ bedroom for his father’s comfort, only to find an empty bed. With his mom working such long nights, Harley was basically the parent for his sister. He did his father’s job. And now he’s here, wanting some sort of relationship with the child he left behind.

What gives him the right? The anger boils in Harley, and he wants to yell, and scream at Jack. That’s all he wants, at this moment. And yet, all he can do is stand in front of the door with shaking hands. Like some sort of coward.

“I can tell him to go, Har,” Tony gently laid a hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to do this now,” Pepper added, to let him know he had both of their support. Harley shook his head, slowly wiggling out of Tony’s grasp.

“No. I can do this,” He stated firmly, praying they don’t see how badly his hand trembles as he opened the door.

A part of him hoped that Jack had already left, disappeared from his life for a second time.

His heart dropped when he saw him sitting on the steps of the porch.

As soon as he saw his son, Jack sprang up, hope filling his eyes. It was odd, the way he looked, to Harley. When you’re a child, you worship the ground your parents walk across. They are pure and sinless creatures who seem like Gods. But now? Harley realizes how flawed they really are.

Jack isn’t quite as tall as he had always imagined him. Taller than Tony and Pepper, but still an inch or two beneath Harley. He looks different, as well. It may be the stress, or age, but Harley doesn’t remember his father looking so disheveled, like someone had picked him hungover from a bar. Perhaps that’s exactly what this ‘look’ is.

“Hey, buddy,” Jack grinned, and it seemed to wide. Too fake. His eyes are the most unsettling part. They’re identical to Harley’s. Funny. With the lack of photos in the house, Harley had just always assumed his father had brown eyes. Guess not.

“Hello, Jack,” Harley blinked, trying his best to keep a stoic expression.

“How are you,'' Jack ignored the cold tone, his foot tapping anxiously. He looked up at the house, grinning. “Nice place you got here, huh? They treating you alright?”

“Better than you ever did,” He can’t help it. Harley’s still a teen. Meaning he can’t exactly hold back cruel comments. Not that this is mean. Jack doesn’t even know mean, yet.

“I deserve that,” Jack nodded, his smile vanishing. He walked forward suddenly, causing Harley to flinch. His entire body stiffened up when Jack deemed it okay to wrap him in a tight hug. “I’m so, so sorry, bud. I should’ve never left, I should have stayed with you and your-”

“Yeah, you should’ve,” Harley can’t be a feelingless robot anymore and just simply tell Jack to leave. He thought it would be that simple, but it's not. He yanked Jack’s hands off of him and pushed him away. “I was seven when you left! I was a kid! And now, you’re crawling back! Where do you get off thinking you can just do that?!” Harley screamed, his voice cracking at the end. Jack is stunned by the outburst.

“I-”

“Please, for the love of God, leave,” Harley rubbed his face, turning away as the tears begin to fall.

“Son,” Jack began softly, not giving up. “We’re family. After all that’s happened, family has to stick together.”

“No!” Halrey whipped around, no longer caring if Jack saw the broken pieces he caused. He jabbed a finger violently at his father’s chest. “You are not my family! You were never my family. My family is dead! They-” He cried, pointing at the door. “-are my family now. They love me, and they would never leave me one night because they felt ‘overwhelmed’. You’re a coward, and a deadbeat. You… You need to go,” Harley doesn’t wait for a reply. He can’t. He turned and rushed back inside..

His body shook violently in sobs as he slammed the door closed and fell to his knees. He’s thought of what to say to Jack’s face for years, and when the time comes? He can only get a few sentences out before the emotions rack up and cave in on him. It’s just like all those nights, when he feels so alone that it becomes too much to handle.

But this time, it’s different. Because he’s not alone. Harley is made very aware of that as soon as Tony’s arms wrapped around him, a safe haven from the cruel hands of his real father.

“It’s not fair!” Harley cried, running frantic hands through his hair. “Why does he get to live? Why does my mom and sister die and he gets to live?!”

“I know, kid,” Tony rubbed his back, sighing. “It’s not fair. But you did good out there,” Tony pulled back, staring Harley firmly yet kindly in the eyes. “I’m proud of you, kid.”

And that’s all Harley really needs to hear. A phrase he didn’t have the privilege of hearing very often of growing up. A phrase he had never heard from his father.

And yet, that’s the difference between Jack and Tony. Jack is Harley’s father. But Tony?

Tony is the closest thing to Harley’s dad. To his home. He and Pepper both. And Harley will take that.

#fanfic #fanfiction #marvel fanfic #irondad fanfic #harley keener fanfic #tony stark fanfic #iron man fanfic #harley keener #ty simpkins #iron lad #tony stark #iron man #robert downey jr #rdj #pepper potts #gwyneth paltrow #rescue #marvel #mcu

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sexyenquirer · 4 years

Text

Copper and Silver

Author: kiranatrix For: missmomentss Pairing/Characters: Beyond Birthday/L Lawliet Rating/warnings: M; mild smut Prompt: L/B mild smut Author’s notes: The prompt wasn’t very specific so I let my imagination wander. I didn’t want this to be the usual kind of L/B fic, so there’s no prison breakout or kidnapping or jam. This is a Magician AU that takes place in Paris in the late 1800s or early 1900s, where L is a famed illusionist and B is…an imposter. Or maybe it’s the reverse. ‘Copper and silver’ is the name of a magic trick, using coins.

—–

There had always been two types of magic in the world. One was quite real, but elusive, and more of a curse than a blessing on those who could channel it. The other was the magic of mankind– the sleight of hand or memory trick, the careful distraction and well-placed mirror. It was the business of the famed illusionist Lazarus, also (un)known as L Lawliet, that no one in his audience should ever know the difference.

He’d been selling out his shows across Europe for nearly a decade, and from the Thames to the Danube, just the name of Lazarus invoked an aura of mystery and awe. He’d been invited to most of the major courts to amuse the nobility of the continent despite his own very humble birth. Not that anyone knew anything true about his origins; L’s backstory as the exiled bastard son of a Russian prince was his most carefully cultivated illusion.

The vast majority of people who came to see him desperately wanted to believe in real magic to dull the edge of life’s mundane reality. This made them easy to fool with clever devices of his own invention. A lemon tree that seemed to grow from a seed before their eyes, sawing someone in half who was then put back together again unharmed, submerging himself in chains underwater only to escape at the last dramatic moment. Although each of his tricks did in fact have an explanation rooted in reality, competitors, skeptics, and scientists had all attempted to parse out the mechanisms to explain his illusions and all had left disappointed.

L had not always believed in ‘real’ magic himself, but he’d never needed to. There’d never been any odd phenomenon he couldn’t eventually provide with a reasonable explanation. He considered himself a man of science and rationality, not someone who was willing to suspend disbelief for the sake of entertainment. He knew he was brilliant, and no one could be a better skeptic than he was of his own performances. Thus, his performances were inscrutable perfection start to end, each trick a thread for the audience to weave their own pretty blindfold with.

But it took the eyes of a fake magician to know the real thing when he saw it, down a rainy street in Paris the afternoon before a show. He’d forgotten his umbrella, as usual, and had been darting from one sheltered overhang to another on his way back to his hotel when he saw a curious hand-painted board pointing down an oil lamp-lit alleyway. It was nearly as tall as he was, and upon it was was crudely scrawled:

~HAVE YOUR MISFORTUNES TOLD BY LAZARUS~

For one silver franc, the Incredible Lazarus will answer the following:

Your real and true name! (Great for orphans or just anyone who forgot!)

The day you will die! (Get your affairs in order!)

Whether anyone in a picture lives or is deceased, as well as their name! (Like deadbeat parents, runaway spouses, or people lost at sea!)

If you need a bath! (Free of charge!)

Guaranteed to be 100% accurate and true or twice your money back! (proof required)

Usually, L would roll his eyes at low-brow hucksters like this and be on his way, but this time was different. This time, someone had purloined his good name and was using it for cheap tricks! Anger and irritation bubbled up in him as he spied the queue to get into a door in the alley, but it was matched with a good dose of curiosity, too. Who in their right mind would so brazenly advertise these services when everyone knew the REAL Lazarus was in town and performing just down the street? The easy thing to do would be to announce at his own show later that this was just a fraud, an imitator, or simply ignore it altogether as the price of fame.

No, L needed to see this for himself, confront the man. He walked towards the door, ignoring the line-up and grabbing a newspaper out someone’s hand to use as a makeshift umbrella.

“Oi! I was reading that!” The man glared at L in surprise.

“I’ll return it shortly.”

“Wha, sopping wet?!” The man pointed to the back of the queue. “And the line starts back–” He cut off abruptly to catch something L tossed his way, gaping down at a gold coin. He tested it with his teeth, piping down after that.

When L got to the front of the line he announced, “Time for everyone to go home. This man is a fraud and not the true Lazarus. I am.”

“We’ve been waiting an hour or more! Prove it!” The rest of the people chanted ‘Prove it! Prove it’ until L held up a finger and suddenly, the rain stopped. Amid their awed silence, he deftly folded the wet newspaper into an origami crane which he perched on his hand. He blew on it and it caught fire, the flame changing from white to blue as it floated away down the alley. The crowd parted to let it pass and then broke into an uproar of clapping and cheers as it exploded into a burst of sparks in the shape of an L.

“How’d he do that?!”

“He MUST be the real Lazarus!”

L slouched forward slightly in an approximation of a bow. What had seemed like magic to them was nothing more than noticing a break in the clouds and improvising, and a bit of phosphorus dust artfully sprinkled from his ring onto the wet paper. “Now, if you’ll all check your pockets, I believe you’ll find tickets to my show tonight. I invite you all as my guests.” It wasn’t really in his nature to give things away for free, or to be so polite, but he’d learned when being the showman Lazarus versus L Lawliet would get him his way the quickest.

The man who’d had his newspaper snatched hung back a moment as the others meandered away, smiling and excited. He thumbed at the closed door behind L, “Another coin and I’ll give that fraud a thrashin’ for ya.”

“No.” L turned and opened the door, stepping aside quickly as a woman in tears bustled past him.

From further inside came the call, “Well, you asked!” followed by some soft cackling. “Next!”

L pressed a thumb to his bottom lip as he brushed aside a ratty tasseled curtain, his already large pupils widening to near blackness to adjust to the flickering candlelight. The darkness partially hid the ramshackle state of the room, and exotic-looking but cheap carpets were flung around to hide the rest. When he approached a table set in the middle of the room, L had to check that he wasn’t looking into a mirror. But no, his mirror image was seated and grinning like the cat that had caught the canary.

“There’s not going to be anyone else.” L climbed into the opposite chair, perching in it as he was his habit when he wasn’t performing. “I sent them away.” He quickly scrutinized the man, looking for flaws in the disguise. They were approximately the same age, mid-20s, of similar built and features, although artful makeup and posture must be contributing to the effect.

“Well, well, well…” Beyond Birthday gracefully moved into the same crouching position, mimicking each of L’s movements with precision but allowing his eyes to flick briefly above L’s head. “That was a very rude thing to do, don’t you think? I guess they all got soggy for nothing.”

“Stealing a person’s name and pretending to be them is what strikes me as rude.” L tilted his head, frowning when the imposter did the same.

“A man’s gotta eat.” Beyond’s grin didn’t falter as he modulated his voice closer to L’s timbre and pitch. “And I wasn’t stealing it so much as…borrowing it. I suppose you can have it back now.” He had what he wanted– L’s presence and undivided attention at last.

“I don’t appreciate it being stolen OR borrowed.” L squinted in the darkness, both unnerved and impressed by the exactness of this imitation. Fraud or not, this mysterious man had real skill in makeup and impersonation. “Who are you really?”

“Why I’m Lazarus of course! Didn’t you read the sign?” Beyond laughed at the annoyed look on L’s face, finally breaking his mimicry and lounging back in his patched armchair with a sigh, one leg thrown over the side. He stared for a moment then said with a flourish, “I’m a fan.” He twirled his fingers and produced a silver franc, letting it flip over his knuckles like the flow of water. “A performer like yourself, although not quite so famous. I’ve wanted to meet you for some time.” He tossed the coin high into the air, but it didn’t come down again.

“And now that you have, will you kindly get lost?” Even as L said the words, he wasn’t sure he meant them. Something about this man was fascinating. And where did that damned coin go? He looked up at the ceiling and saw nothing, and the man’s hands were both empty. “Cheap parlor trick. Open your mouth.” He didn’t want to admit he hadn’t seen the sleight of hand, even if he knew the coin must be there.

Beyond extended his tongue, revealing the coin sitting right on it. He spat it into a box containing a few more coins. “Very good. But of course I doubt I could stump the real Lazarus.”

The way those words were spoken sounded like a challenge to L, and he’d been here before. Countless other illusionists and street magicians had challenged him and become laughingstocks. “No, I doubt very much that you could.”

“Hmmm.” Beyond leaned forward, elbows on the table as he stared. “Would you give me the chance to try?” He kept his eyes on L but swiped his hand over the flames of the candelabra beside them, appearing to transfer one flame to his finger where it burned a moment before he blew it out.

“You dipped your nail in oil. It didn’t burn long enough to blacken it.” L raised an eyebrow when Beyond chuckled and nodded. “I hope you have better tricks than that.” He sincerely did hope that, because this was already more amusing than he’d expected, although his deadpan expression didn’t show it.

“Oh, I do. Such wonders as you’ve never seen before.” Beyond snapped his fingers, his nail aflame again, and he transferred the fire back to the dormant candle. “If I can’t stump you, I’ll ‘get lost’ and you’ll never hear from me again. Does that suit you? A little wager between magicians.”

“A wager?” L smiled for the first time since coming into this dismal hovel. “Just so you know, no one’s ever been able to stump me. I’ve seen it all.” He worried his lip with his thumb, unconsciously leaning forward, betraying his interest and excitement at a game. “Debunked them all and taken their tricks, improved them for my own.”

“You can’t take my tricks.” Beyond knew that for a fact. He was unique among all humans, if he was even human, in his abilities. “But I’d love to see you try.”

He traced his long fingernails over the battered table, watching L’s thumb brush back and forth across slightly parted lips and wishing to touch them. Yes, he was a ‘fan’ of Lazarus, but it was so much more than that. An obsession, a yearning to be Lazarus. It was so unfair that he, someone with real supernatural powers, should always be in the shadow of just a clever illusionist. Beyond had been L’s actual shadow for years, never making himself known as he followed in the wake of show after show. Trying to make enough money for cheap flophouses and tickets for every performance, hiding in the back of the balcony but watching with eyes where distance didn’t matter. And when there hadn’t been money, he’d stolen. When people had tried to hurt or rob him, he’d killed. Beyond had given everything for this one moment.

“You seem quite confident. In that case, what do you get if you manage to stump me?” L had zero expectations that anything like that could ever happen, but he wanted to be aware of the game’s rules.

Beyond pulled a deck of cards from his jacket and shuffled them in one hand, focusing on keeping his breathing slow and even as he held L’s gaze. Softly, “To be your apprentice.”

“My apprentice?” L laughed, letting his hands rest on top of his crouching knees. “Everyone knows I take no apprentices. I have no desire to train amateurs or tell my secrets.”

Beyond purred, “But do you desire to hear them? I can tell you secrets even you don’t know about yourself. Or ones you’ve desperately kept hidden from others.”

L was past being intrigued now, he was hooked. It didn’t help that the man’s languorous, cat-like body language was so very seductive, his gaze so intense. It was rare for L to find anyone with as much self-confidence as he had, and this man had a natural bravado that L had to work for on stage. In fact, the longer L looked, the more differences he noticed between them. The soft swell of muscles hidden beneath clothing slightly too large, hair of a silkier texture, eyes that were a pale blue instead of his own grey. He swallowed when his scrutiny was rewarded with a smirk. “I agree to your wager. But first, tell me your name.”

Beyond wet his lips and whispered, “No. But I’ll tell you yours.” He glanced down at the coin box seriously. “Pay the fee.”

L stared unblinking, unbelieving, but pulled out the same trick ‘gold’ coin he’d given the man in the street and taken back furtively.

When L tried to put it in the box, Beyond covered it with his hand. “No copper. The real thing.”

L’s eyes narrowed and he pulled his hand back, pocketing the trick coin and reluctantly flipping a real silver one into the box with a soft clink. He sighed, “So?”

Beyond smiled looked above L’s head once more, not that he hadn’t read these words a thousand times already. “L Lawliet. Although the pronunciation eludes me. Do you say it in the French way, mon cher?” He smiled and sounded it out a few ways, giving up with a little shrug.

L felt like his heart had stopped beating from the shock of what he’d heard. His mouth was agape, fingers digging into the fabric of his pants. “How….” Absolutely no one knew his real name. He’d spent a small fortune to find it out himself, buried at the bottom of the rubble of the London workhouse for orphans he’d grown up in. His birth certificate, locked in a well-hidden safe at his house in Surrey, was the only document in existence with that name printed. That safe hadn’t been opened in 10 years.

“Ah! Are you stumped then?” Beyond eyed him greedily, breath coming quicker. He didn’t even need to declare he was right. He’d never been wrong, even when people tried to insist he was. The truth was always written on their faces.

“No! You…you must have hired a private investigator.” L’s brow knitted, because that didn’t make sense and he knew it. “Someone in London told you. ”

“Does it look like I have the funds to hire an investigator, Mr. Lawliet?” Beyond gestured around at the bleak surroundings. “But if you remain unconvinced….show me a picture of someone. I’ll tell you their name as well, and if they live.” Telling L the day he would die was something else he could do, but what a morbid way to start a partnership. Plus, L had plenty of life left and no reason to believe him. Inclining his head to the box, “Pay the fee.”

L let out a shaky breath and reached into his coat to produce a cheap locket. His mother had given it to him at the workhouse before she’d died of pneumonia, and it contained pictures of his parents. He pried it open and laid it on the table, flipping another silver coin into the box. “Tell me about them.”

Beyond pulled the locket across the table and stared at the pictures of the man and woman inside. These were no Russian nobles, no princes. They were plain, simply-dressed folk who looked older than their probable years and had no death dates above their heads. “Martha Briggs, maiden name. Henry Lawliet. Both deceased.” He lifted his eyes to L’s as he slid the locket back. “Sorry if that wasn’t what you wanted to hear.” His fingers briefly brushed L’s and lingered before pulling away. “Your parents.”

“Yes.” L picked up the locket in pinched fingers and carefully put it back in his jacket. He’d never known his mother’s maiden name but all the rest was correct, although he had no idea how. He went quiet as he considered what to do. It was a first, being unable to discern the trick, and all the possible scenarios that cycled through his mind were dismissed just as fast. Only one actual explanation remained but he was loathe to say it. How could it be that?

“Have I won then, Mr. Lawliet?” Beyond wasn’t sneering or gloating, but soft and sincere. He knew that all L had to do was refuse to keep his promise and all of this, everything he’d done to be in this room, would have been for nothing.

A long silence passed between them as they stared at one another across the table. “You have real magic.” L couldn’t keep the puzzlement off his face. He’d spent his whole life creating the illusion of magic in opulent ballrooms and the parlors of royalty, and had he finally found it buried in a rat hole? It was ironic and tragic that no one could tell the difference but him, but Lazarus. Who was the real fraud?

Beyond’s face crumpled, “Is that your answer then? Real magic?” No no no! This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! He’d never believed that a skeptic like L, who knew so many tricks and manmade artifices, would choose the most improbable answer. Unfortunately, it was also correct.

“Yes. That is my answer.”

Beyond made an angry, frustrated sound and leaped up from his chair but stopped in his tracks, floundering. He wanted to run but where would he go? The majority of his adolescence and adulthood had been focused on L, following L, trying to get close to L and failing. Now that he finally had his chance, he’d failed. He turned away and clutched his hair, whispering, “Correct. You win. I’ll leave Paris tonight and you’ll never hear from me again.”

L hummed to himself, uncurling from his crouch and slowly stepped closer to the distraught man. “Are you joking?” He touched the man’s shoulder, gently turning him around so they faced each other. “Do you think I’d walk away from real magic? You’re a unicorn.” L smiled and brushed the man’s cheek, fingers trailing along his jaw. He’d never touched anything magical before and it thrilled him. “A unicorn that had to pretend to be a horse pretending to be a unicorn. But I can see it.”

The black kohl around Beyond’s eyes used to approximate L’s eyebags was smeared and running down his face, his blue eyes brighter for his tears. He gazed back at L in amazement, finally sniffling and giving him a little smile. “So does that make you a horse?” He leaned into L’s touch, eyes lidding and not entirely sure he wasn’t hallucinating now. “Or maybe just an ass.” Beyond’s eyes flew open as he realized what he’d said, but L was just laughing and nodding. “S-sorry, my mouth can run away with me and—”

“I’ve been called worse.” L’s fingertips traced along the man’s mouth, his heart hammering for a different reason. He wanted to know this magic, this man, and felt an electricity between them that only two of a kind could. “But I can’t call you ‘unicorn.’ What’s your name?”

“Beyond.” He whispered it reverently, closing his eyes and taking the chance to kiss L’s fingers at his lips. What did he have to lose now? His ‘trick’ was exposed. “Beyond Birthday. It’s a stupid name.”

L’s hand threaded into Beyond’s hair and the noise he was rewarded with made him shiver, made his pants uncomfortably tight. Was this feeling some kind of magic too? He’d never felt such a powerful attraction. “It’s a name that would look perfect next to mine on a poster.” Lazarus and Beyond….it had a certain ring to it. But you shouldn’t hide yourself under all this makeup.” He tentatively pressed closer, bending to kiss Beyond’s neck which tilted for him instinctively. “Hmm, we could work that into some good tricks, couldn’t we?” He pressed his hips against Beyond, smiling as he felt the man’s body jerk at the realization, the feeling. “Like swapping out coins, but…us.”

Beyond inhaled audibly, wrapping his arms around L’s body as he melted into this perfect dream. His idol, his everything, wanted him too? Accepted him? “But…” He quickly shrugged off his jacket when he felt L’s fingers start to unbutton his shirt. “…you said you don’t take apprentices.” He mentally cursed himself for not just shutting up. Why couldn’t he just enjoy this and not ruin everything?

L raised his head, “True, I don’t.” Before the stricken look on Beyond’s face could sink in, he added, “But I’d take a partner.” The voracious kiss that followed made L stumble back against the table edge with a grin, hidden pockets spilling their contents as their clothes were hastily pulled away. A trick wand clattered to the floor and bloomed into a rose, a crystal box of fireflies sprung open and let its luminescent prisoners flit about the room blinking.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you.” Beyond kissed him deeply again, lifting L onto the table. His hands caressed L’s body like he was afraid the man might break open too, releasing doubts and regrets, second thoughts. “Years I’ve waited to talk to you.” Beyond made magic for others, magic never happened for him. But those doubts didn’t come even when L did open for him, parting his legs and wrapping them around his waist.

L laid back against the table to gaze up at Beyond, amazed that he’d ever thought they looked alike now that they were naked and the makeup had been largely kissed and rubbed away. “I’ve waited all my life for magic.” He smiled and pulled Beyond closer, finally really understanding what his audience had been paying to see. It wasn’t just entertainment or amusement or distraction from their lives. It was hope that even if what was in front of them was only a horse, there might be a unicorn out there somewhere. “The real thing.”

#Fic #submission #kiranatrix #missmomentss #death note #L Lawliet #Beyond Birthday #ship: LxB #rating: m #20192020

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supernaturalmarauders · 4 years

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Welcome home (SPN cast reader x crew and boyfriend)

Summary: the readers boyfriend is in the navy and had been deployed for the past year and a half. The boys surprise the reader at a con, and the whole audience knows. And at the end he proposes.

Warnings: crying, fluff, laughing, basic Jared and Jensen joking.

Please give me feedback I’ve wanted to write this for a while I’ve just struggled

You and they boys were currently at a con. You had been going to cons since you were eighteen; and you were now 21. Honestly you knew the boys had been doing it a lot longer, but for you cons freaked you out. You tended to be one of those people who didn’t care however when it came to cons you cared the most. Everything had been going pretty smothly so far. You always enjoyed cons with Jared and Jensen because they were the two funniest people you know.

Xxxxxxx

“My question is for Y/N” said the audience member which made Jared her fake angry and Jensen to just seriously judge Jared.

“Don’t worry about them sweetie, Jared’s just a two year old in disguise. What your question” you ask politely ignoring Jared hurt expression.

“Well, we know about everyone one else’s love life but we don’t know about yours. I understand if it’s to personal but I was curious if there was possibly a boyfriend in your life” asked the lady from the audience. Suddenly everything when’d quiet, which made you feel uncomfortable.

“Umm... I didn’t really think it was ever that much of a secret but yeah, I do have a boyfriend. I haven’t seen him for a year and a half since he’s been deployed in the army” you say in honestly. The audience just smile and Jared and Jensen look at you making you feel even more uncomfortable.

“Okay next question” says Jared noticing how uncomfortable you were getting. Jared picks another woman in the audience whom also has another question for you.

“So I also have a boyfriend in the military, however he’s only been deployed for about a month. I was wondering what it’s like having such a long distance relationship” said the lady. You sad smile understanding what she was going through.

“Honestly it get easier but harder at the same time. Because you become used to being by yourself without him next to you all the time. But it’s also hard because you can go weeks without a letter and be terrified because you have no if your boyfriend is still alive. And sometimes it gets really hard to think about all the things your missing. I think though, I can give you one word of advice. If you miss him just think about all the good he is doing for you and so many other people. Because without people in the military than the world would fall apart” you say smiling. The lady smiles and passes the mic back to the man.

Xxxxx

“Okay guys so we’re going to have a little competition. Y/N, and Jared are going to see how many darts they can get closest to the bullseye. But there’s a catch, if they win, then they get a suprise”. Said jensen causing the audince to cheer

“When he says surprise, he means, there isn’t a surprise. he just wants to see weaher a girl can beet a guy at a simple task such as sharades” you say causing audiene to once again laugh and jared and jensen to glare at you.

jensen brought out the targets and the games began. it wasn’t much of a competition seeing as jared could hardly get a shot in without it bouncing off the metal. you however managed to get almost every shot smack bang centre. honestly you were suspicious . jared was always pretty good witch accuracy and never had an off day, ever. and it wasn’t like jared to just loose and sit back and take it. he always threw a very fake overdramatic tantrum.

“And Y/N finally won somethin against jared” mocked jensen making you put your hnds on your hips.

“Seriously, am i the only one who thinks thats a bit fishy” you ask to the audience, all of which reply with a shake of there heads, indicating that they did not see anything wrong. What you didn’t know was that they were in on everything.

“Let me guess, I win a bag of snail shells, and an extra week of planking from the two of you” you say with sarcasm.

“We aren’t that mean Y/N” said Jared mock hurt.

“Sure you aren’t” you say rolling your eyes making the audience laugh.

“Here read this out loud” said Jensen passing you a letter.

“Hey baby, this note is currently being written a day before I leave you. If your reading this it means that times are getting tougher. Stay strong Y/N, I love you so much” you finish whispering and trying to stop the tears escaping your eyes.

“Why would you make me read that” you say trying to contain the emotions that you felt.

“ turn around” says Jared making you look at the screen behind you, suddenly is on the screen. The very last picture you had of you and your boyfriend.

“Why are you torturing me like this” you say, unable to contain the emotions. Not realisisng what had happened untill you heard a familiar voice behind you, one you never thought you would hear again.

“Because I asked them to” said the voice. You turned around so slowly you couldn’t believe your eyes. Suddenly nigers falls started falling from your eyes as you gripped onto your boyfriend for dear life, letting his uniform soak the tears you had in your eyes. The audience were flashing photos and gen and Daneel who were backstage with the kids couldn’t stop the tears from falling down there cheeks.

“I missed you baby” he said not removing you from his embrace. Unable to reply you removed your head from his shoulder and smashed your lips into his, causing the audience to erupt in cheers. The kids was very rough, but contained all the emotions that you had. Gen and daneel came out of the wings to go and be with there husbands. They were no where near taking your moment away, but they were not about to miss what was going to happen.

After the kiss ended you just stood there falling into his embrace.

“I love you” you say loud enough for the audience to hear but muffled by his shirt.

“I know you do” he says pulling you tighter to his chest. During that time many fans had not turned of there phones continuing to record everything that was happening. Daneel and Jensen were crying, and Jensen and Jared had smiles from ear to ear.

“You were all in on this, weren’t you” you say pulling away from your boyfriend and looking at them.

“Maybe said Jensen and Jared in unison making you smile. You ran into there arms, not sparing anytime in giving all four of them big hugs, thanking each and everyone one of them individually. What you didn’t notice was that a video started playing behind you. What alerted you however was the sound of the audience starting to sing falling in love by lily Reinhart.

You looked up frozen in your place as you watched the videos and photos from you and your boyfriends 4 years of dating, even the ones where you were so little. You couldn’t help the water works as they once again flowed freely out of your eyes. Once the video had stopped you looked over to Jared and Jensen who were gesturing to you to turn around, slowly you turned around and saw your boyfriend on one knee holding a box with a beautiful ring.

You instantly broke into one of the biggest rages of sobs you had ever experienced. Your boyfriend smiled and everyone elses “awwed”

“ Y/N Y/L/N, I have loved you for four years, and I can’t imagine my life without you, and I never want to go another day in fear that I’m going to loose the one woman who u would do anything for. You are so special to me and never want to loose you, not ever. You make me the happiest man alive , and bring a smile to my face every time I see you. So Y/N, Will you marry me” finished your boyfriend running a finger through is H/C hair.

You break down for what felt like the 100th time and run into his hands once again making his uniform soaked. You stood there for a few minutes sharing a deep kiss trying to tell him how much you love him.

“You never answered my question” he said once again going to one knee, the audience stopped and sat in anticipation while j2 held there wives closer.

“Of course you Idiot” you say looking into his eyes whilst the audience applaud, and Jared and Jensen cat whistle. He slide the ring onto your finger and you wipe your eyes. He embrace you in a hug not letting you go. The cheering of the audience started to blur out whilst you were in your lovers embrace, nothing else mattered at that time, just that you were with the person you love most, and would love most for the rest of you’re life.

“Let’s give it up for loving couple everyone” you hear Jared say into the mic, making you pull you chest away from your now fiancés. You smiled into the audience and help up both your hands, making them cheer even louder.

There were very few moments you had ever experienced emotions as strong as this. You once again hugged (boyfriend name) and weren’t letting go. He tightened his grip around you indicating that he was never letting you go.

You knew for the first time in a long time that you would fall into a easy sleep, with (boyfriend name) holding you, and the people you considered your family right beside you

Sorry it’s so short and crappy, like if you want, I don’t mind, I hope you enjoyed. I just wanted to write about something that would make people smile. Yeah I know the vocabs pretty bad. There will be mistakes but I will go through and fix them later.

#supernatural #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #love live #military #boyfriend #proposal #gen padalecki #fiancè #engagedlife #homecoming

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okskz · 5 years

Text

Yeehaw Land.

Mia + Stray Kids

Last show of the Unveil tour and Mia is excited to be back in her hometown.

Italics = English

[10th Member of Stray Kids]

“Nervous?” Chan asked as he looked at Mia getting her final touches on her hair.

It was the last show of the US Unveil tour and she couldn’t be more ecstatic that it was Houston.

“Not really, just a bit anxious is all.” She said getting up once the hairstylist was done. “I haven’t been here since moving to China, and it just feels so surreal to be back. I really missed it.”

As much as Mia did love living in China for a bit, she loved Houston the most. She was practically born and raised there. She remembers her parents calling her to tell her they planned on moving back from China a little after they debuted, so she was even more excited that her family was going to be in the crowd watching her. Having it been 4 years since she last saw them.

“We’re going to make this the best show ever, I promise.” Chan smiled, putting his arm around her.

Once everyone was done getting their final touches, they all headed out to get ready to go one stage.

“You hear that?” Jisung asked happily.

They all nodded as they heard the crowd get loud by chanting out their name, waiting for them to come out.

“Here’s to having a successful show, remember to have fun, and here’s to being in Mia’s hometown.” Chan said as they gathered in a circle putting their hands in the middle. “Fighting!” They all said, moving along to finally get on stage.

The venue got dark.

The screams got louder

And by the time they knew it, they were finally on the stage opening up with Hellavator.

Throughout the whole show, everyone and especially Mia, were having the best night of their lives. They never seemed to lose energy, even after playing song after song.

At some point, Mia managed to find her family sitting first row on top of to balcony. She tried not to get emotional just yet and wanted to get through the show first.

Now, the ending ment had finally arrived in the part of the show, and honestly Mia hated this part because she knew the show was going to be over soon. She was having so much fun that she didn’t want the show to end at all.

Some of the boys began doing their final ment, most saying how hot it is in Texas and then how happy they were to be in Mia’s hometown. At one point both Jeongin and Jisung ended up saying a phew phrases in Spanish in which Mia was proud of.

“We learned that Houston has a lot of Spanish speakers, so a big thanks to our lovely Mia for teaching us a few words before coming here.” Chan said looking at Mia to his right for a few seconds. “Mia, it’s your turn now.”

She took a deep breath before she started talking. “Oh man, where do I even began?” She smiled.

“Well firstly, thank you to all of our Stays for coming to our show tonight. This show will probably be the most special to me since it is my hometown.” She said pumping up her fists. “And because I get to share this special moment with my boys.” The audience began to cheer loudly.

“Secondly, my family is here as well so that’s even more exciting since I haven’t seen them for the past four years.” She said as she looked up at the balcony, waving at her family. “Hi mom and dad, and brother. Thank you guys for always supporting me in everything I do. One day I will repay you guys back.” She could see her parents standing up from their seats. Her mom waving their lightstick and her dad waving a fan with a picture of her on it.

She paused before continuing.

“You know, when we landed yesterday I got so many goosebumps. It was just a surreal moment for me coming back to Houston after nine years. Um, never would I have imagined coming back to perform in front of you all, so this truly means so much to me.”

“When I got off that plane and felt the Texas air for the first time again-” Mia paused for second looking down then up again to the crowd. She could feel the tears coming, and everyone knew it too from the way her voice was getting shaky. “It made me realize how much I miss home.” She managed to finish except this time she began to cry, turning around walking away a little.

All the boys walked up to her, Felix was the first to hug her, and she felt a few pats on her back.

“It’s okay, you’re doing good.” Jisung whispered in her ear.

The crowd was in awe and began chanting Mia’s name.

When she felt like she could talk again she walked back to the front. “It’s not tears it’s just sweat, I promise.” She joked laughing a little as she wiped her tears away.

“Uh, I also want to give a big thanks to Chan for picking me to be in his group. If it wasn’t for him I probably wouldn’t be on this stage right now.” She smiled at him.

He acted like he was wiping fake tears, “Don’t make me cry.” He said and the audience began to laugh.

“And of course, I want to give the biggest thanks to our Stays. If it wasn’t for you guys we probably wouldn’t have gotten to where we are now. Thank you for loving us and supporting us. You guys will always mean so much to us.”

“And to my boys, I love you guys so much.” She said smiling at all of them.

“Oh and one last thing, para todas los Stays que hablan Espanol, los amo mucho, gracias por el apoyo.” She finished and the whole audience went wild.

All of the boys began clapping for her then went in for a group hug. Mia felt so much warmth in her heart that she knew she will never forget this moment.

***

After the show, Mia and the boys rested for a bit and got ready for group photos and hi-touch. Nothing was more special to MIa than meeting their fans, it was her most favorite part of the tour.

Now, everything was over, and they were now back in their dressing room lounging around.

“How did you like the show, Mia?” Woojin asked as he was sitting across from her.

“I loved it so much, literally one to remember.” She smiled as she lifted her legs up to put them over Hyunjin’s lap.

“You gotta show us around.” Jisung said.

“If we have some time in the morning, I definitely will.”

“Yes, we want to learn all about the city where our Mia was born-” Chan began to speak but was cut off by a knock on the door.

The door opened a little and in came one of the staff workers. “Mia, there are some guests that would like to see you.”

Mia looked back to where the door was and nodded her head, letting the person know to let them in. The door opened up even more and in came Mia’s family.

She gave a loud gasp, smiling once seeing them enter. “Mom! Dad! Ryan!” She exclaimed as she quickly got off the couch and ran towards them. As soon as she got pulled into a hug from her parents first, tears were falling down her face once again for the night. Not only was she was crying, but she could also hear her mother sobbing against her neck.

“Its been so long.” Mia sobbed, “I’ve missed you guys so much.”

“You don’t know how much we’ve missed you too, mija.” She heard her dad say as he kissed Mia on her head.

“We’re so proud of you, Mia, you did so good tonight.” Her mom said letting go and cupping her cheeks. Mia could see the tears on her mom’s eyes too.

“Thank you.” She sniffled.

Mia then turned her attention to her older brother, who was standing next to their dad. She quickly went in for a hug.

“Not bad little sister, you guys really know how to put on a show.” He said letting go of her. They gave each other a fist bump.

Mia was too caught up with her family that she almost forgot they weren’t the only ones in the room until she heard a cough coming from behind. She brought her attention back to the others who were all staring back at her.

“Oh, my bad.” She laughed. “Mom, Dad, and Ryan, meet my boys.” She said leading them towards the nine boys.

“Guys, meet my family.” She said switching to Korean.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you guys.” Mia’s mom spoke up. “Mia has told us so much about you guys.”

“Nice to meet you too.” Chan said giving her a handshake.

“You must be Chan?”

“Yes ma’am.” He smiled.

Although Mia’s parents and brother already knew who was who, the boys still introduced themselves one by one to be polite.

“Seriously, congrats on this successful tour and all the other accomplishment you guys have done so far.” Mia’s mom said looking at each one of them as they sat around the couch.

“And also thank you for taking good care of our Mia of course. I know she can be handful eh?” Her dad joked.

“Hey! No, I’m not.” She pouted causing her to let out a laugh right after.

Chan laughed at what her dad said. “No, she’s seriously a great person to have around. “We’d probably be nothing without her.”

“Now you don’t make me cry.’ MIa said, pretending to wipe off fake tears.

“- We were really nervous about letting her move at such a young age, especially without us, you know?” Mia’s mom began, making some of the members nod. “But I can see everything turned out well and that she’s in very good hands.” She smiled, grabbing onto Mia’s hand.

Mia looked down from where she was sitting on the arm rest of the couch. She leaned in giving her mom a side hug. “Love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, honey.”

All of the boys looked at them in awe. They spent a few more minutes talking together until Mia’s dad got up from his seat. “I’m guessing you guys are hungry after doing a great show right?” He said. All of them nodded in agreement, understanding clearly what he was saying.

“We grilled some burgers before coming to the show. Why don’t you all come on over so we can eat.”

“Oh yes, thank you, we will definitely be there.” Chan said being the first one to hop off his seat. All of them began to laugh.

“We’ll see you there alright?” Mia’s dad said coming towards her to pull her in for a hug.

“Yes, we’ll meet up with you guys there, thanks.” She smiled, wrapping her arms around his waist. He kissed her head before walking off towards the door. They all said their farewells as Mia’s brother shut the door behind him.

“Your family is really nice.” Felix said. “I can see they mean so much to you.”

“Thanks, I really love them a lot. They’re my number one supporters.” Mia said smiling to herself.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

- hope you guys liked that! also true story, Jisung and Jeongin did say some words in Spanish which I almost cried over,,, Wow, I miss them anyways, would love some feedback and requests are open!

#stray kids au #stray kids 10th member #stray kids 10th member au #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenerios #stray kids imagines #bang chan au #kim woojin au #lee minho au #lee know au #seo changbin au #hwang hyunjin au #han jisung au #lee felix au #kim seungmin au #yang jeongin au

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comphy-and-cozy · 5 years

Text

Fallin’ All in You - Ch. 9: XO / Michael Gray x Reader

Summary: In which you meet Michael Gray, star hockey player for the NHL team, the Peaky Blinders.

Modern AU. Smut. Swearing.

Chapter 9: ~6k words. Fluffy boi Michael, and of course a healthy dose of smut. NSFW.

The end of the season came and went in a blur. The Peaky Blinders, for the first time in 20 years, missed the playoffs. While the boys were disappointed and inconsolable for a few days, they found solace in the fact that summer started earlier for them, booking flights home and planning vacations. Michael was no different, looking to keep himself busy with trips and activities. So, when your mom had invited him to your family’s house for the graduation party of younger cousin, Ashley, he had grinned at you and eagerly accepted.

“Meeting the parents, huh? That’s a big deal,” he commented.

“Not just the parents, the entire family,” you pointed out, running a hand over your face. “That’s a lot of people, Michael.”

“I deal with the press and crazed fans on a regular basis. I think I can handle my girlfriend’s family.”

You cast a glance at him, the hesitation evident in your eyes despite the soft smile you sent his way.

“Hey, c’mon,” Michael said softly, tugging on your folded arms to pull you into his chest. “I love you. And you love me, yeah?”

You looked up at him, feeling embarrassed because you still hadn’t quite gotten used to the fact that he loved you and made it known on a regular basis. His arms wrapped around you, hands coming to rest on your hips as he gazed at you adoringly, a small smile playing on his lips. You definitely hadn’t gotten used to that expression on his face when he looked at you. You nodded in response to his question.

“Then what’s the big deal? Let me meet your family. I want to do this, Y/N.”

You pressed your lips against his, light and soft, before sighing. “It’s just… it’s still just us right now, and bringing them into this is so… public?”

“Love, you handled me telling half a million Peaky Blinders fans about you just fine. If you can handle that kind of public, I think we can manage this.”

You chewed your lip, your mind flashing back to the conversation you two had had when he posted the first picture of you on his Instagram.

“Oh my god, this is so much pressure!” you exclaimed, somewhat jokingly, but partially serious. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

“Babe, we’ve been together for like, 6 months.”

“No,” you objected, nerves fluttering in your chest. “We’ve been fucking for 6 months, but we’ve only been ‘together’ together for 2 months!”

“Still,” Michael sighed, brushing his lips against your temple. “I want to show off my hot girlfriend to everyone.”

You paused, thinking it through, and knowing he would hold off if you truly weren’t ready to go “public” yet. The worries tumbled through your mind as you tossed the thoughts around. What would the fans think? Would you get hate mail? Did you have to monitor what you posted more closely? Should you go back and look through your old posts? Would this affect your career somehow? What did this really mean for you?

You simplified the onslaught of worry with one question: “What am I getting myself into?”

“Honestly, it does take a little adjusting, but in the end you have to remember that it’s just a social media account. I’m guessing you’ll just get a shit ton of followers the first few days, but you’re private, right?”

You nodded.

“Then you can decide if you want to accept them or not. We have nothing to hide, but you can do whatever you’re comfortable with. Your call, babe.”

Taking a breath in, you nodded again. He had a point -- you didn’t have to share anything you didn’t want to, and it’s not like there was a ton of gossip about the players and their girlfriends on the big media outlets. Having control over what strangers on the internet could see from your personal social media account made you feel much better about dating a minor celebrity. The fact that Michael was so nonchalant about all of this still blew your mind, because you were convinced you’d never get used to the publicity and popularity. “Okay, go ahead. But you better post that picture where my ass looks great.”

Michael grinned. “Your ass always looks great, babe, but whatever you say.”

“Gotta let the fans know, you know?”

The next day, you had been caught slightly off-guard while scrolling through Instagram when you unexpectedly stumbled across a photo of yourself. The memory was vivid: you were posing for a picture at the lake, arms wrapped around his middle, but had burst out laughing at a joke he had told. The caption read, “Love you like XO,” the John Mayer reference putting a smile on your face.

“Yeah,” you said slowly, smiling at the memory, “but that was a million strangers. This is my family we’re talking about.”

“Oh, you mean people who love and care about you and want you to be happy?”

You rolled your eyes, giving him a light shove for his sarcastic response. “You know what I mean. Family is different. I didn’t get to pick them.”

“Trust me. Nothing they say or do is going to turn me away. I got this,” he said confidently, giving your arms a reassuring shake. Just then, it clicked into place that that was your real concern all along. How could he know that when you didn’t even realize it yourself?

“You sure about that?” you winked, and he nodded. Crinkling your nose up at him, you pressed your lips against his softly to signify you were giving the go-ahead. What’s the worst that could happen?

“I want to see how you became you. And thank your mom for giving you this hot ass,” he grinned, delivering a quick slap to your behind.

You giggled. “Actually, that’s definitely from my dad’s side of the family. Not sure you want to be thanking him for that.”

Michael’s face fell, a serious expression crossing his handsome features as he cleared his throat, speaking with an exaggerated politeness. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Y/L/N. You have raised a lovely daughter. I understand I have you to thank for her most perfect and particularly fine ass. There simply isn’t anything quite like watching it bounce on my cock, you know what I mean, sir?”

You snorted and rolled your eyes, laughing at his impression. He then moved his gaze across the room, his fake smile plastered on his face. “And Mrs. Y/L/N, so wonderful to meet you as well. I’d like to pass my compliments on to you for that smart mouth of Y/N’s. She can be quick-tongued, but god damn, can she suck a dick.”

“Michael!” You laughed.

“Yeah, I really think that’ll go over well,” he said, nodding thoughtfully.

“I’m sure it will.”

Read the rest on AO3!

Taglist: @gypsystuf

#michael gray #michael gray smut #michael gray fanfic #michael gray fanfiction #michael gray x y/n #michael gray x reader #michael gray imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders au #nhl!michael #Modern!Michael #peaky blinders modern au #finn cole #nhl imagines #michael gray modern au

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chaniters · 5 years

Text

He’s on TV!!

Well here’s the ending for this angst trip!

One of the Rangers finally catches up with a desperate Cyrus at his worst moment -as does the entire West Coast-.

WARNING : Trigger, attempted suicide. Also. Spoilers.

_______________________________________

Ortega sat down and rubbing his temples with his left hand. It had been a terrible weekend and showed no sign of improving.

His right searched for the remote, digging dip below the sofa cushions until he finally grasped it.

Prize in hand, he laid back, sighed and turned the TV on.

He switched channels a few times...

___________________

N5 Los Diablos Night news show with Jhon Stevens!

"...lcome to our show!” The audience clapped “Phew... We've got quite a hectic week don't you think? You know... for a comedian... this is a hell of a time to be alive!"

Laughter, more clapping...

"So let me get you the facts people... First, we had our very own SUPERBOWL here in Los Diablos! First time since the big one? Isn't that great?!"

Audience cheered. More laughter.

"Yeah, I was there rooting for my team too... and then, because we're the best city in the face of this nation, we hired us a villain for the midshow! I bet NO ONE saw that coming! Suck it Miami! Suck it New Orleans!!"

Softer laughter.

"Now before the Superbowl folks, it's the tradition to have the president get a short interview right?" the audience nodded. The music band yelled in agreement.

"So let's hear what president Hardwell had to say JUST before the Superbowl"

A cut to the archive video... reporters from the stadium in live link with the president.

"... And you know me... I'm not going to take sides, let the best team win... But I'm really waiting to see the mid-term show! I'm told it's going to be the most thrilling performance in recent years... and Los Diablos had this long coming. This is a testament to its reconstruction efforts... I'm going to be watching live from the White House! A great party for all of America!"

The image froze leaving the president in a weird expression

"And a great party it was folks!"

more laughter.

Ortega switched channels.

________________________

N7 LDGT News

A few men in suits sat down together next to a world map, as they discussed.

"... the Superbowl revelations speak of a wider government conspiracy. Those pictures, they showed systematic unethical testing, forbidden tests, and enslavement of decidedly human beings..."

"Wait, John, you're not saying they're humans right?"

"I am… just hear me out to me Rick"

"Oh I'm hearing you, I'm just saying, even if you're going to believe that crazy Retribution Anarchist communist, those things were grown in a lab. They can't be human"

Laughs.

"Look Rick, all I'm saying is, firstly, I don't think he can be a communist if he was grown in an American lab"

"THat's right he's 100% American goods, he should be proud" an older guy added

"Hah... I know. But hear this... even the Spaniards, when they were abusing the natives in America, they came under scrutiny because the Spanish king thought it was too much. So he sent an investigation with priests and people of renown, to tell if the natives had souls too. And you know what they said?"

"It's not the same thing!"

"It's totally the same thing! Those things as you call them, they're human DNA. Two legs, two arms, one head, one torso, one brain, one heart. If the Spaniards, who committed some of the worst genocides could tell the natives were human, do you think any judge today is going to say they are not?"

Silence.

The man continued

"All I'm saying is these experiments are illegal on the east coast. They're legal here on the west coast, but we still have laws. And our laws are very clear on what a human Is, which I think the egg-head professors running the horror-show forgot. So we know what humans are, and I'm pretty sure they" he pointed at a picture of some regenes over the table taken a few years back "I'm sure they qualify. So if west coast laws apply, then they're human, not robots like they claimed they were. And worse of all for the bureocrats, they're humans born here on the West Coast so they're West Coast Citizens, whether they like it or not"

"Alright alright.. maybe you have a point... " the other man conceded. "So, let's say they're human... what happens next?"

"Oh, political chaos! We have fewer regulations, but If they're humans there's still so many crimes here committed against them that I can't even begin to summarize"

"So as a lawyer John... what would you suggest President Hardwell should do?"

"Well... he didn't start this, I mean the special directive has been going on for years... but with this latest scandal, I think they're done. They're done, and the writing's on the wall for all to see and he should just lay back"

"What, do nothing?"

"Yeah. Let the authorities handle it! That's what they're there for. Sit back and let heads roll all around him. If he's innocent, why should he get his hands deep into the bullshit?"

Laughter "How graphical John. Thanks"

"Always! Now, what about this Sideste..."

Ortega switched again.

__________________________

N9 West Coast News Room with Mia Ochoa

"...so the Superbowl scandal hasn't even fully crystallized into the public's mind, and the government's already facing a new potential tsunami."

"Agreed Jerry" Mia nodded holding a tablet. "It's hard to imagine a worse way time for the administration in recent time." she turned to the camera

"So let's go through the events one more time, just to summarize. Retribution, the villain anarchist has been a thorn in the administration for almost a year and a half now, and left scorched earth in his wake, exposing dozens of scandals and turning the political gameboard upside down"

"A die-hard fan base soon formed around this cult figure" a smaller image shows a protesting mob wearing fake Retribution helmets "and they've made sure to let their voices be heard. But it was all nothing compared to his stunt at the Superbowl when he exposed the special directive and revealed he was himself a regene"

"The administration has been facing protests, riots, and resignations for five days in a row now, and there's even a been a revival of the old movement calling for the West Coast to secede from the union altogether"

"I'm told the Westbran church is calling it "End of days" Mia" the male reporter said with a smile "They're retreating into their underground bunker to survive the coming apocalypse triggered but why they call "Men usurping the place of god"

"So if the impending apocalypse wasn't enough" Mia spoke again "Retribution appeared again on Saturday. Let's see it on video"

A cut to a zoomed image of a skyscraper. A young man was standing over the ledge, while an older security guard tried to talk him out of it

"This man" the man's face zoomed in to the max "Is called Cyrus Basri, and he's confirmed to be Retribution's civilian identity, the regene who took over the Superbowl."

"But that's not the shocking part" her counterpart continued. "To anyone hoping the scandal would die out, here's a hint. It won't."

"Indeed not. So this man, Cyrus Basri, he goes up to the New Aon Center tower, sabotages the anti-suicide netting device and walks over the ledge before a security guard tries to stop him"

"Now to our viewers who didn’t watch the news yesterday, this will be shocking, but the two knew each other. Here's the story"

A cut to the black security guard being interviewed by Mia herself.

"So It happens from time to time. People get fed up with their lives and come to the tower. New Aon Center, is the tallest building in the city, I guess that's why they choose this spot. So most times I just activate the safety system, but I realized it wasn't working. So I ran up to this guy, and he turns, and he's in shock and scared, and I realize I know him"

"Who was this man?" Mia asked.

"He's Cyrus... Cyrus Basri. Also known as Sidestep"

"What? Say again?"

"Yes, I know. Sidestep is supposed to be dead, but I saw him. This is Cyrus, the same Cyrus that wore Sidestep's mask back in the day, and he's alive"

"You knew Sidestep?"

The older man sighed.

"Yes.. yes I did... Very well in fact... I mean, I didn't know about him being one of them regenes but... you know... the other stuff"

"Could you please elaborate?

"Yeah... I knew him... but hadn't seen him in years. I guess he forgot I worked there because he panicked when he saw me, and... well he just jumped"

"He jumped?" Mia seemed confused.

"Yes .. but... I stopped it?"

"How?" Now she was lost.

"Ok... I guess I'm already on TV so it's no use hiding it... " he sighed "I Always liked keeping my identity private... I'm retired now, But I was the ranger Sentinel for several years"

"... you were Sentinel?" she said looking for the camera, asking the production for confirmation.

"Yes, yes, you can confirm it, just call the ranger's HQ... I don't like publicity. But yes, I did the job all those years. I just had a cozy day job too so I could keep my own life separate."

A small cut in the video before the interview continues

"So it's confirmed.. sorry about that" Mia Apologised

"No problem. I know how it is. I don't look much like a hero I guess" he smiled "So, he jumped, and I panicked too, but It's not my first rodeo, I mean, I work there. And I still have my powers, so I stuck him back onto the safe side of the railing with a wind gust"

"wow... ehrm.. I mean.. Incredible. What happened next?"

"Well, we talked. A lot. He was very confused, not making sense at all. I was confused too, I mean, I watched the news, but I never expected him to be retribution. But you know, I did what I always do when people want to jump... talk to them like I know shit"

"I see... Did he say why was he going to jump?"

"Well, he pretty much told me his life was ruined. He felt like he was just a government project gone wrong, and after his stunt, he was just convinced he was going to get killed or captured, or experimented upon, and he thought he had not a single friend in the world after his battles with the rangers... He thought no one would like him because he was a regene. I'm thinking he's been in depression for some time"

"How did you convince him to stop?"

"I just told him... "Cyrus, you know me, I'm not going to let you jump. And we both know you don't want to do this. So will you let me call our friends to come to pick you up?" And he just cracked and started crying, and I asked again a few times, and in the end, he ended up agreeing with me that he didn't want to do it."

"I guess you're still a hero, even if you're retired," Mia said with a smile.

"Don't go telling people" he chuckled "So I called the rangers, and we got him a coat because he was shivering all over, I think he had been sleeping on the streets. So Herald showed up carrying Charge, and he kept saying he didn't want to see him, and I just shook him, and told him "Look, whether you like it or not Charge's your best friend so you're going to talk to him see if he can get some reason into your skull!"

"We actually got footage of that thanks to a tourist who tapped you in her phone"

A side image from someone's cellphone showed Charge and Cyrus talking. Charge was yelling while Cyrus just looked down. Ultimately Charge kneeled down and squeezed his shoulders, holding his forehead against Cyrus' own while speaking a few words in a lower tone. Cyrus kept nodding each time. They kept at it for a long time before Cyrus stood up wiping the tears and Charge hugged him, ruffling his hair and patting his back.

"So how do you know Sidestep?"

"Well he used to sketch a lot back in the day.. the kid and I had a lot in common, I mean we liked our identities private. But I told him about my day job one day, don't know why. He asked if he could come sketch, out of costume. He wanted to learn how to do landscapes. Heh, he did... I got like a dozen landscapes he drew. All signed "Sidestep" I should show someone one day..."

"What do you know about him taking the role of retribution?"

"Wow... that's a rough one... I don't know. I guess he was desperate? Wanted to tell people what happened to him and saw no other choice? Not many people can cope with things like being told you're not human... I've faced bigots, you guys know that, but not like this... He was a total mess, kept saying he didn't want to live anymore... I guess I'll have to ask him again when he's feeling better. I mean I hope he gets better, he's a good friend, regene or not!"

"What about the government officials that showed up?"

"Oh. Those creeps." he smiled "They tried to arrest Cyrus on behalf of the federal government. We didn't let them, but they got us at gunpoint and handcuffed him... I almost did something but Charge told me not to"

"Did you know what..."

"What Steel was planning?" he smiles "Not really, but I knew something was up."

The interview cuts.

"And he was really planning something... Let's show what happened at the base of the building"

The video jumped to the entrance of the Aon Building. Men in black dragged Cyrus, handcuffed to a black van... only to be stopped by Steel

"Move Marshall. We're taking him in"

"I don't think so. This is an illegal arrest, and won't happen under my watch"

"He's government property" he smiled. "There's nothing you can do"

"My authority comes directly from the president. I outrank any security force in the site right now. And I say you're not taking him"

They looked at each other.

"We're here under orders from the Special directive"

"I know who you work for. And Unless you have a written order by the president himself, you better let him go. Now."

Herald and Sentinel came down, carrying Ortega. Lady Argent walked up behind the government men, startling the two.

"He's a government project!" one of them hissed "Say's it so right here!" he said pulling Cyrus' shirt up, revealing his bar code. Cyrus just stood there, motionless.

"Oh, I see that." Steel said pulling his sleeve, revealing a tattoo of an eagle "I've got one too. All my unit got one like this back in the war, for serving our country, just like he did. Are you going to say I'm less human?"

"It's not the same!"

"It's exactly the same. Release him, Argent"

Argent simple took Cyrus from them and cut down the handcuffs with little effort.

"You're going to hear from us" one of them pointed at Steel.

"Of course I am because you're coming with me. You're both under arrest"

"What? On what grounds?!"

"Oh, I don't know. Kidnapping... torture... partaking in slavery... General villany... I haven't picked yet. MAybe all of them?"

_______________________________

Ortega switched off the TV, standing up.

He walked over to the room nearby.

Cyrus was still asleep.

They had given him a heavy dose of anti-depressants and his arm was attached to an IV drip with saline solution since the doctors thought he was very dehydrated.

Asides from attempting to kill himself there was nothing else wrong with him, at least physically.

There was some noise coming from the streets. He approached... a large crowd, separated by police.

Retribution and Sidestep fans and protesters in one side... religious zealots and haters on the other.

He shut the curtains and took a seat next to him, taking his hand, rubbing his fingers.

Waiting for him to come awake.

_______________________

Cyrus opened his eyes slowly.

"Hey." he Ortega said.

"... Hey" he spoke looking around in confusion. It took him a few minutes to focus.

His eyes looked at the window and the resounding clamor outside and then turned, fixing on Ortega.

"It's really bad, isn't it?"

Ortega nodded slowly. Cyrus squeezed his hand taking a deep breath.

"It's bad. But... we're all going to fight for you"

"W..What?" he asked.

"You just have to let us. Just this once... Let me fight for you"

He smiled weakly. "You don't give up, right?"

"Never"

"They're going to come for me again"

"We'll be ready."

"I'm still a regene"

"I don't care. And I was just stupid earlier... I wasn't thinking."

"You sure?"

"These are growing on me," he said looking at his tattoos. Cyrus blushed heavily and shifted a bit.

"That doesn't make me human"

"What? You've got more fans than Argent. You're more human than anyone in the eyes of the public right now."

"It's not a popularity contest"

"You really never understood how this country works, right?"

Cyrus rolled his eyes.

"Hey. Cheer up. It's like our TV-show"

"The one that got canceled you mean?"

"Shut up. Remember the catchphrase... The Rangers always get their man?"

"Yeah...?"

"Well, I'm a ranger."

"Oh please..."

"And..."

"Not this again"

... I..."

"Don't"

"...got"

"You can't be so corny..."

... you"

He leaned over and shared a soft kiss, leaning over the medical bed.

"I've got you" he winked

Cyrus groaned, but he moved a bit, letting Ortega got on the bed as well

"You're like a Matryoshka doll, you know?"

"With many layers?"

"Full of yourself"

He laughed.

"This bed's too small" Cyrus complained.

"Then get better already!"

Cyrus groaned some more, eventually resting over his shoulder.

"Don't care. So tired... sleep now, yes?"

"Go ahead" Ortega smiled, staring at the ceiling.

They didn't talk about what would have happened if Sentinel hadn't been there when he tried to jump. There would be time for that later.

"I'm going to fight for you," Ortega said, a few minutes after Cyrus had fallen asleep again.

_________________________________

My Fanfics: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

#fallen hero: rebirth #fallen hero spoilers #Chargestep #Sentinel #Steel

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