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spaghettificationandpretzels · 10 months

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A Voice Through the Nothingness Part 12

I'm sorry this took me so long, life has been crazy and I haven't had the brain space for this. Please remember to comment, it really helps me.

Series Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Contains: This is still a slow burn, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, descriptions of past domestic violence, protective Billy.

4.0K words

Comment if you want to be tagged or follow #a voice through the nothingness.

“The real world is where the monsters are.”― Rick Riordan, The Lightning Thief.

Hazel flattened her skirt again and nervously chewed her lower lip. The man at the front desk smiled when he saw her and stood up."Hello Ma'am, I'm Gunner, I'm assuming your Hazel?"

She nodded, "I am, you're here late, I thought you guys finished at five thirty?"

He shook his head. "We have people here at night, I'm usually somewhere else but Billy wanted me to wait here to take you to his loft."

She smiled. "That was nice of him, are you too friends?"

"Yes Ma'am." He stood up and gestured toward a set of doors, "When you're done for the night, Billy will buzz me and I'll take you back to your car."

She shook her head as she followed him through the courtyard. "Thank you Gunner but I'm sure I can find my own way back."

He sighed. "Alright, Billy just wants you to be safe."

She smiled. "I know, thank you for getting me here, and please, call me Hazel."

He swiped his card on the elevator and smiled. "Sure Hazel, this will take you right up to Billy's loft. I'll be back to take you to your car when you're ready to go home."

She chuckled. "I see there's no dissuading you. Next time I come, I'll bring you some cookies to say thank you."

"I'd love that Hazel." He walked away and the elevator doors closed. After a short trip, the doors reopened, and Billy's loft greeted Hazel with all its black furniture and exposed concrete walls.

He was in the kitchen fussing over a pot, his suit swapped for henley, a simple pair of jeans and a t-towel thrown over his shoulder. He looked up from the stove with a smile and walked over with his arms open. Hazel wrapped her arms around his body and relaxed his embrace as Billy's warmth surrounded her.

He was so happy to see her. "Did you get up here alright?"

She nodded. "I did, Gunner was a big help."

They parted and She took a deep breath. "Whatever you're cooking smells amazing."

He smiled. "Roast duck breast with polenta and Morell mushrooms and a garden salad, dessert is a surprise. I wanted to go all out like you did but I didn't want to do too much and screw it up."

She grinned. "What are you talking about, that sounds amazing. Do you need any help?"

He shook his head and walked her to the kitchen counter. "It will be done in half an hour. I would have had a drink ready for you but you're early."

He pulled out a chair, and she sat down with a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry, I wanted to be punctual but I went a bit too far."

"It doesn't worry me." He headed to the fridge and pulled out a judge, "Since I know how much you like strawberries I thought we could continue with our fresh juice trend?"

She nodded, "Yes please." He poured the pink liquid into a glass and placed it in from of her, "How's work been?"

"Since I saw you two days ago and talked to you yesterday? Work's been great. Thank you for sending over that modified questionnaire, you didn't have to do it so soon." He figured she did it to keep herself busy, and judging by how tired she looked, she still wasn't getting much sleep.

She shook her head, "It's alright. Was it helpful?"

Billy nodded and returned to the stove, "Hell yeah, we're going to hand them out on Monday. What about you, anything crazy happen yesterday?"

"No, it was an easy day on the ward. I got some good news, though," He raised his eyebrows, "I'm doing so well in the triage course that they think I'll be done a month sooner."

"That's amazing Hazel. I looked into that course, it's very hard to get into." He knew she was far smarter than she led on, he just wondered why she was so reserved about it.

She was grateful he was looking elsewhere because she was sure the shyness would be all over her face. "I just study hard, there's no great skill about it."

He huffed, "You should be proud of yourself, studying hard or not, they don't accept many people."

There was a pause before she responded. "I'll be happy when it's done and I can help more people." He felt a tang in his heart at her tone, he knew it well, she didn't think she was good enough.

He turned enough to meet her eye, "Well I'm proud of you." She smiled at him and he turned back to the pot and with a few more stirs, it was done. "Dinner will be ready in a minute if you want to wash your hands."

She was up and heading towards the sink. "Do you need help setting the table?"

He shook his head, "Nope, take your drink and get comfortable, I'll be there with the food in before you know it." Sure enough, the moment she was settled, he came over with two plates in his hand. He placed one in front of her before sitting in front of his own. "Please, dig in."

The duck skin cracked like glass and the meat cut like butter. She was barely able to hold back the moan as she took a bite, the buttery polenta and the earthy mushrooms complementing the duck perfectly. "This is so good."

He smiled. "Thank you, it's not as good as yours though."

She shook her head. "No, this is great. You're a very good cook, I can't wait to see what you made for…"

BANG

She jumped out of her skin while he barely flinched. "What was that?"

He could see the panic on her face. "It was just a car backfiring, it happens all the time here."

She placed a hand on her chest to slow her racing heart. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to overreact."

He reached out and grabbed her hand. "You didn't, don't worry."

She sighed. "I'm sorry, I feel like I've ruined the night."

He ran his thumb over the back of her hand and shook his head. "No, you didn't. I don't blame you for being on edge, you have nothing to be sorry for."

"Thank you." She took a deep breath, "Good work on the salad, by the way, it's lovely."

He smiled. "Good, I think if I failed at a salad, I should never be allowed in the kitchen again."

She chuckled. "I would have to agree with you on that one."

He looked over her face, underneath the weight of her worry, there was such affection in her eyes. "I made an apple pie for dessert, I know I said it was a surprise but I can't wait."

Hazel smiled. "I love apple pie."

The night rushed by and he found himself using all his self control not to ask her to stay a little while longer. It's not like she had to take the subway, he could drive her home but she would have insisted and he didn't want her taking the subway late at night.

She leaned against the wall next to the elevator with a slice of pie in a box. "Thank you so much for tonight, it's been so long since someone other than Lizzy has cooked for me."

He smiled, "You're a delight to cook for, I've never had someone complement my food so much."

****

Hazel was surprised at how ready she was as the IT man set up the courtroom feed. Tammy, the head of her department, stood there with a soft smile on her face and placed her hand on Hazel's shoulder. "If you want to go home after this you can, we all understand."

Lizzy nodded. "I'll take you too, we can eat some ice cream and binge watch animal planet."

Hazel shook her head. "No, this man isn't going to take another second away from me. I can do this."

Tammy smiled. "Yes, you can."

Billy, Frank, Karen and Curt arrived soon after in their best attire, Billy didn't even have a hair out of place.

Tammy shot Hazel one last smile. "I'm over in the next room. We're here for you no matter what happens."

She smiled. "Thank you." She sat at the table with everyone next to her and waited for the feed to light up, her heart rate rising with every passing second. Billy's hand landed on hers and rubbed soothingly when her legs started to bob and before she knew it, the courtroom was filling the screen.

She took a deep breath as the board read the proceedings and then it was Hazel's turn to talk. "Theodore Parker once said 'The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice.' I stopped believing that a long time ago. Mr Cambell should have been gone to prison than a lot longer than he got but seven to nine and I tried to put him out of my mind, I hoped that he would be a different person when he came out."

She took another deep breath and stilled her shaking hands. "He has not been in prison long enough to change and we all know he hasn't done any programs. We all know why he's coming up for parole, he's turned on someone. I just wished someone stopped to ask me what I wanted, and if the man who tried to kill me should even be given the chance to get out so early."

Billy could hear the rage coming from her voice. "I'm asking you to make the right choice and say no today, I'm asking you to acknowledge that something horrible was done to me and that I deserve justice."

Resolve came over her face as she met eyes with each member. "Please don't let his one self serving deed undo him trying to kill me. Thank you for your time."

She muted the mic and sat back down, and Billy's hand returned to hers. "You did really well."

She shook her head. "You saw the looks on their faces, he's giving them a big fish, they're not going to listen to me."

Karen cast a glance at Frank who nodded. "I have an idea if you're up for it?" She nodded. "There's no way they can legally let him out, I asked Mat. He turned state's evidence to the point to negate such a serious charge he should end up in witsec. If he gets out, do you want me to do some digging? The Bulletin would love a story about something like this."

"Yes, I would. If he gets out, people need to know so he doesn't get away with it." She couldn't think of anything better, being marked as a rat would ruin his life more than any conviction.

"Done." She was comforted by Karen's surety, somehow she knew that Karen would get the real story out there.

The feed lit up soon after and everyone turned their attention back to the screen. "Miss Moreau, we will be deliberating for quite a while. You should go back to work."

She sighed. "Thank you."

The feed went black and she took a deep breath. "I'm going back to work. There's is no point in worrying about what might or might not happen and the ER needs me."

She expected pushback from at least one person but she never got it, and Billy stood up with a smile. "Do you and Lizzy wanna come over and watch the fight with us tonight?"

Lizzy smiled. "Curt already invited me, I said yes."

Hazel smiled. "I would love to come."

Frank grinned. "That settles it then. We'll see you ladies tonight."

****

Hazel felt a weight lift off her chest as she got into Billy's car at the end of her day. "He's not out yet, you don't need to fuss."

He shook his head. "I'm not fussing. You've had a long day, you shouldn't have to take the subway."

She sighed and relaxed into the seat, "Thank you."

He noticed how she chewed on her lip as the ride went on. "Has someone called yet?"

She shook her head. "No, I would have told every…" Right on time, her phone rang. "Speak of the devil and he shall appear, or call as it were."

She put the phone on speaker without thinking and she knew by the DA's sigh what his next words were going to be. "I'm sorry Hazel, he's out. He's not allowed out of his state and he has to wear an electronic bracelet so he won't be coming into New York."

"Why?" She didn't mean to sound so upset.

"He turned on someone." There was a pause and the DA took a breath, "He turned on the AB, the danger he was in and how much he gave was the reason they let him out."

Billy huffed. "The fucking Aryan Brotherhood, just when I thought he couldn't get any worse. We'll all know he wouldn't have info if he wasn't up their asses in the first place."

"You must be Willam." The DA sighed, "I can assure both of you that Mr Cambell will not cause you any trouble and if he does, he will go back inside for breaking a restraining order that was filed on your behalf when he was paroled. If he contacts you in any way, please let us know."

She nodded. "Sure, thanks anyway." She hung up without letting him get in another word.

"You good?" He knew she wasn't but it didn't hurt to ask, he wasn't going to push her.

She shook her head. "I'm upset but if he cuts that bracelet off, I'll have enough warning to do what I need to do.

He smiled softly. "You're really brave, you know that?"

She shrugged, "I don't feel brave right now."

He could hear the shake in her voice. "That makes you even braver." He took one hand off the wheel and linked his fingers with hers, "I'll stay with you until you're ready to come to my place. I want to feed Barry again anyway."

She nodded. "That would be nice, thank you."

****

Billy smiled as Barry munched in the clams. "They're making my tank now, I can't wait until I can put all the plants in. I've had a lot of fun sketching the layout."

Hazel shook her head. "I can't believe you're a fish person."

He tilted his head. "Really, what kind of person do you think I am."

"Cats, I feel like you and a cat would get along great." She paused like she was shaking off more emotions. "I love cats, but I can't fit one in here. I figure I'll get one when I finally get a home of my own."

"You know, I think you might be right." He huffed to himself, "I'm gonna do some research."

"I knew it." She sighed. "Just let me hop in the shower and change into something that I can lounge around in a. and then we'll go. I've got some snacks in the freezer, should I bring them?"

He nodded. "Hell yeah, we always get pizza but I'm not turning down free food, especially if it's yours."

"Ok." She took a deep breath. "Tell me everything is going to be ok."

He closed the gap between them and grabbed her hand. "Everything is going to be fine, I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

****

"These pre shows are so full of bullshit, why do they need to puff their chests out so much."

Hazel sighed. "Because Lizzy, they need to hype up the crowd. It's why they're so mean to each other during press too."

Billy chuckled. "We're about to get a contact with a fighter, you might even see us at the next game."

Lizzy glared at him. "So we're not invited?"

"Don't listen to him, Billy's just being an ass." Frank said it with all the affection in the world.

Billy huffed. "Of course you guys are invited if they give us tickets."

Hazel stretched out and her thigh ended up getting inadvertently pushed against Billy's but he made no room to move away. Curt glanced over briefly from his shared loveseat with Lizzy but didn't say anything, rather, he nodded towards Frank, who slung his arm over Karen's shoulder to pull her close.

It seemed Billy and Hazel enjoyed the contact because Billy mirrored Frank's action and threw his arm over the back of the couch. "Who do you think will win tonight?"

Hazel shrugged. "Montana. Baker is too slow for his hands and he's ground and pound is shit."

"Yeah Bill, I got to agree, Baker isn't going to get far." Hazel appreciated Frank's support.

Billy grumbled. "Montana is a heel, but yeah, he's going to win."

The TV started to flash and the lights in Billy's loft went from dimmed to totally off. "Wow, and I thought to TV coming out of the wall was cool."

Lizzy chuckled. "You are so easy to impress Hazelnut."

"Am not." She took a piece of popcorn and lobbed it at Lizzy's head. "It is cool."

Lizzy shook her head. "Real mature, throwing food in someone else's home."

Billy smiled. "Nah, plenty of popcorn gets thrown around here, you should see Frank when he watches baseball."

Curt huffed. "Can you all shut up. It's starting."

Hazel pressed her lips together to stop herself from smiling. "Sorry Curt."

Everyone turned their attention back to the TV as the fighters came out and after their introductions and the ref shouting the rules, the flight started. It wasn't over as quick as everyone thought it would be and as it went on, Hazel drew closer to Billy until they were cuddling while fists hit faces.

Hazel tapped Billy's chest excitedly as the fight neared its third round. "Wow, it looks like Baker might win."

Billy fought the urge to peck her temple. "I think you might be right."

Sure enough, just as the fight entered its third round, Baker scored a knockout and the crowd went wild. "Good for him, you can tell he worked hard to get there."

Billy always admired how Hazel always acknowledged someone's hard work. "We'll see who he fights next, after this it's anyone's guess."

Frank sighed a slapped his legs. "Well ladies and gents, it's pretty late so Karen and I are going to head home."

Lizzy rolled her shoulders with a groan, "I should do the same." She turned to Curt. "You wanna come with and stay the night?"

Curt smiled. "You bet I do."

An awkward silence filled the space as everyone started to get ready to go and Billy took a deep breath before addressing Hazel. "Maybe you should stay the night, with everything that happened today and all. I have a guest room."

"Yeah, alright." Billy was shocked she didn't give him more pushback. "It will be good to know someone is just around the corner."

He smiled. "I'll show you where you gotta go."

No one said anything as everyone said their goodbyes but Lizzy made sure to thank Billy for his kindness as he wished her well at the door.

****

Hazel settled into bed wearing one of Billy's old PT shirts that he had so kindly lent to her. She looked around the guest room, it was almost as big as her whole apartment and it wasn't lost on her how much safer she felt as she rested back on the pillows.

Knock knock

"Come in."

He popped his head through the door and walked a few steps into the room. "I'm right next door so wake me up if you need anything."

She nodded. "Thank you Billy."

"You think you'll be able to get any sleep?" He knew the answer already.

She sighed. "I'm not sure but this mattress is very comfortable so we'll see."

His fingers itched to get closer. "I hope you get some rest but like I said, if you can't I'm right next door."

She smiled. "Thanks Billy. Goodnight, sleep well."

"Goodnight Hazel."

****

It was strange, Hazel was wide awake but all she wanted to do was fall into the sleep that was scratching at her brain. There was no dripping tap, no fights outside her window, just a soft, soothing sound of the wind rustling the trees in the courtyard outside her window.

There was no light coming from under her door, no matter how hard she strained her eyes, she couldn't see anything which didn't help because she had no reason to go and see if Billy was still awake so she could have company in her insomnia.

She flipped over again and huffed, she didn't know how she could be so tired and so awake at the same time, and then she heard it, a soft whimper coming under her door. She listened and it came again and before she could stop herself, she was out of bed and rushing towards Billy's room.

She pushed open the door softly and peered in as the nightlight in the hall flicked on and drifted into Billy's room. He was fast asleep but his face was fixed into a grimace.

Hazel waited there watching him, unsure if she should wake him but he let out something that sounded more like a scream and she made her choice. She walked over to him, sat at the end of the bed and placed a hand on his calf before saying his name softly until his eyes shot open and his chest heaved.

"Billy, you're alright, you were having a nightmare." His eyes locked on her and he relaxed. "You're ok."

"Thank you. I'm sorry if I woke you." He sounded so regretful.

She shook her head, "No, I couldn't sleep anyway."

"Shit, I'm sorry. You wanna come and sit with me for a bit?" He knew he shouldn't be asking but he couldn't help himself.

"Alright, I think we could both use it." She climbed into bed next to him and pulled the covers over her legs, "What were you dreaming about?"

He swallowed. "Getting hurt. It wasn't a bomb this time. I swear sometimes the dreams are worse than the real thing."

She reached out and placed her hand on top of his. "You wanna tell me more about it?"

He blinked and stared into space for a moment before responding. "I can't remember it. It was there one minute and now it's gone." He sighed, "Dr C said that was normal."

She nodded, "Yeah, it is."

"My face hurts." He hadn't meant to say it but she responded anyway and he felt her hand brush the scar on his cheek.

"It's just phantom pain." The warmth of her hand chased away the strings of agony and he felt his eyes grow heavy.

"Thank you." His tired brain couldn't fight the urge to nuzzle into her palm and she smiled as the tension left his body.

She took a deep breath as a wave of exhaustion hit her. "We're both really tired, how about I spend the rest of the night here?"

He forced his eyes open and looked over her face in the barely there light from the hallway, there was no hesitation on her face. "Ok."

He got up and closed the door before hopping back in bed and fluffing the pillow behind her. "Thank you."

He smiled. "It's alright. Are you sure about this?"

She nodded. "Positive. The way I see it, we're friends and we're close, this doesn't have to mean anything more than that unless we want it to."

"Yeah, yeah I think that sounds about right." She went down first, lying on her side facing him as he did the same. "Is this alright?"

She reached out and took his hand. "This is great. Goodnight, again."

He chuckled softly as sleep came over him. "Goodnight again Hazel."

Part 13

#a voice through the nothingness #billy russo #the punisher #fix it fic #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #billy russo smut #ben barnes #the punisher fanfiction #billy russo x ofc #frank castle #karen page #everybody lives/nobody dies #curtis hoyle #daredevil

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knightsofsliverandgoldstory · 6 months

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Marc-André Fleury/ F! OC

Summery: A story where a world famous goaltender with a heart and soul of gold becomes a knight in shining silver for a female hockey player in the NHL who is trying to balance being a single mother and athlete after just being traded to the Vegas Golden Knights. Can Marc-André Fleury show Barlow Kane he can be the father her daughter never had, help her make a home and a life in Nevada and be the love of her life she never thought she would find?

Warnings: swearing, hockey related lingo. I think that's it

Word count: just over 2.6k (sorry this is more of a filler chapter that had some writers block problems. 5 will be better I promise)

Game day.

First game of the pre-season and the city was buzzing. Hockey was back in the desert and the fans couldn't wait to see the same faces back on the ice, along with the new ones that would be joining them. Barlow could feel the static in the air, the buzz of the excitement. The game was at seven that night, and it was noon when she looked at the clock. She knew she needed to get her pregame nap in and something to eat before she left for the rink. Katie Had already taken Harper for the day, so Barlow could get ready in peace without having to wrangle a toddler on her first day. Going through her pre game rituals, Barlow made a pot of spaghetti, fruit salad and some butter bread. After eating the hearty meal she cleaned everything up and went upstairs to her room to take her pre game nap. Setting her alarm on her phone to make sure she gets up on time, she shut her black out blinds and turned off the lights, laying down for her hour and half nap. Once her head hit the pillow she was out like a light.

Beep!

The sound of her alarm screaming in her ear sent Barlow flying out of bed. She ran a hand through her hair and down her face. She knew she had to get dressed for the game. Going to the bathroom she did her business before washing her hands and grabbing her makeup bag. She pulled out her waterproof and smudge proof black mascara and eyeliner and did a simple makeup, just enough to make her eyes pop, but not enough to make it nasty while playing. Once she did that she French braided her hair down her back, making it tight so it didn't fall out. Once she tied it off she went to get dressed. Putting on a dark cherry pants suit with an off white shirt with a small v neck to it under the jacket. Black ankle heeled boots graced her feet. She tied the black satin belt around the jacket to keep it shut and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked sharp and clean, perfect for her walk into the arena and later for interviews. The suit made her look skinnier than she was and it made her legs go on for miles. She smiled before grabbing her Ray-Ban sunglasses and throwing them on her head before making her way downstairs. She grabbed her car keys and made her way down to her car. She slipped into the driver's seat and started up her SUV, pulling out of the driveway. She pulled down her sunglasses and threw on some music from her pre game music playlist. Some songs from Imagine Dragons and The Score started to blare through her speakers, getting her in the game mood. She stopped at the Starbucks along the way and got a coffee to help her keep going late into the night before getting back on the road.

Pulling into the players parking lot at the rink she shut off her car and grabbed her bag, coffee and keys as she got out of the car. Her boot heels clocked on the pavement, her head held high as she walked down the sidewalk to the arena doors. Fans could be heard cheering and chanting. She lived for moments like this. Taking a deep breath she walked into the rink, a few cameras flashing as she made her walk down the tunnels to the locker room. Keeping a straight face she let the media team get their pregame pictures of her, along with the others who entered the rink. Once she got to the locker room Barlow took a deep breath and let her nervousness sink to her feet. She flashed the boys a smile as she made her way over to her cubby. Running her fingers over the smooth gold colored silk jersey, staring at her name on the back with a smile. She had loved her old team, the memories she had made there, but this was a fresh start for her and Harper. This was the beginning of something new. Now she was going to throw herself wholeheartedly into it.

Grabbing her Under Armor leggings and shirt that she wore under her padding she walked off to the dressing room / shower they had installed just for her. Shutting the door behind her she slipped off her pantsuit and folded it up neatly to put back on after the game. Slipping on her leggings she tied off the built in drawstrings at the top to make them extra secure. She then pulled on her skintight long sleeve that went under her padding to keep it from rubbing her skin raw. Once that was on she went back out to the main locker room to put on her padding and equipment. Slipping on her leg paddings first she strapped them down before grabbing her chest paddings. Slipping the heavy padding over her head she snapped the buckles in place. It had a bit more padding than normal on the front, but other than that it looked like any normal hockey padding. Then she grabbed her arm padding and slipped them on as well. Pulling her socks on next she tapped them down around her knees and calves, making sure they were nice and tight. Then slipping on her hockey pants she tied them off at the waist. Next she grabbed her skates and pulled them on, lacing them up tight before pulling her socks down over the tongues and backs. Once all this was done Barlow turned around and took the silky gold jersey off its hanger and held it in her hands for a moment. Looking down at her name and number one last time before slipping it over her head, letting it fall smoothly over her padding. Barlow knew it was different, and it was always pointed out to her, but she never warmed up before she got dressed. She wanted to be in full or almost full gear before warming with stretches to get the stiffness out of her gear and feel for any discomforts that could hinder her play.

She got onto the floor and went into the splits, grabbing her covered skate blade with her hands and leaning forward to stretch out her back and hamstrings. She held this for about a minute before switching to the other side. Barlow was half way through her stretch when she felt a pair of eyes on her. Looking up, Barlow saw the brown watchful eyes of Marc-André staring at her as he started to lay out his gear.

"Can I help you, Flower? She asked in French to the goalie. She watched as a smile crept across his face and he pulled off his baseball hat to run a hand through his hair.

"Not at all." He simply answered. Barlow gave him a small side eye with a smile before going back to her stretches. After warming up a bit she stood up and did a few jumps, then turned at the hips to loosen up a bit more. After making sure she felt warmed up and her gear felt good she grabbed her sticks and made sure they were taped up right and the right length. As Barlow went about getting ready she turned to face Flower while fixing the tap on one of her sticks.

"Are we still on for tomorrow's lunch?" She continued speaking in French. For the past 2 Tuesdays Barlow, Harper and Marc-André had gone back to the small restaurant to have a meal together to just relax. It had been super nice and each time they hung out outside of the rink, Barlow felt her heart opening up a bit more each time. Flower's soft laugh, his smile, the way he held her hand softly in his during the drive, or how he would kiss her cheek when he dropped them off. Watching him with Harper, how gentle and sweet he was with the toddler made her heart soar.

"Of course, I wouldn't miss it. I love my time with my girls." Marc-André answered as he started to strap on his padding. He wasn't looking at Barlow when he spoke but if he had he would have seen the deer in the headlights look on her face. Her stick slipped from her hand and landed on Max's arm with a thud. The forward yelped as the stick hit him and Barlow jumped at the sound.

"Oh Max, I'm so sorry!" She squeaked as she picked up her stick. Max shook his head with a smile before going back to his gear. Barlow grabbed her stick and slowly looked back up at Marc-André, who now had the same look on his face she did after realizing what he had said. His mouth opened and closed a few times before his face turned bright red and he ducked his head. Barlow quickly grabbed the rest of her gear and walked out of the locker room and went to the tunnels. Her heart was racing and her mind felt like jello. Did he really just call her and Harper his girls? Taking a deep breath she shook her head and tried to clear her mind. She couldn't let it keep her focus off the game tonight. She had to remain calm and collected.

Meanwhile Flower was sitting in the locker room still red faced and wide eyed. He couldn't believe he said that. Sure he felt it but he hadn't planned on saying something like that yet to her. He didn't want to scare Barlow off. Max watched as the blonde had raced out of the room and the star goalie sat there in shellshock.

"What happened? What did I miss?" Max asked. He looked over at Marc-André after Bralow raced out of the locker room door. Flower waved his hand, trying to dismiss the whole thing but Max wasn't about to let it drop. "Come on Flower. What was said between you two that made her look like a doe in the headlights?" With a heavy sigh Flower looked up at the forward.

"I called Harper and her 'My Girls.'" Flower told him softly. He blushed, the dark red spreading across his cheeks as he looked back down at his skate laces. Max smiled softly and shook his head, before getting up and walking over to the goaltender. Placing a hand on his shoulder Max spoke up.

"Marc, just tell her how you feel. She was just taken but surprised and embarrassed about dropping her stuff. After the game, talk to her. Tell her. You both deserve to be happy."

"But what if she doesn't feel the same?"

"Trust me. That girl is as gone as you are. I promise she feels the same." Max said, "Trust me on this." With a final pat on the shoulder he went back to his cubby to finish getting ready. Flower thought over what Max said and realized he was right. If he didn't take the chance he may never get them to truly be his girls. Pulling the rest of his gear with a smile on his face, he finished getting ready. Barlow was still out in the tunnel warming up when he led the rest of the team out to head down to the ice to warm up. Walking up to her, Marc-André tapped her leg pad with his stick to get her attention.

Barlow looked up at Marc-André after he tapped her leg and felt a blush creep across her face. His words still rang through her mind.

"Can we talk after the game? There is something I need to tell you." He whispered as he leaned closer to her, so only she could hear his question. Barlow nodded her head. After Flower called them his girls, she knew they needed to lay it out on the table, and she needed to open her heart up again. The goaltender smiled and tapped her leg again before going to the front of the line to lead out the team. Barlow stayed back a bit, going to the middle of the line as they filed their way out down the tunnel to the ice. The roar of the crowd grew louder and louder the closer they walked to the ice, the pounding of the music over the speakers filling her body. She felt her body and mind come alive at the sounds and her instincts took over.

Stepping into the ice she pushed off and gilded behind Erik as she did a few warm up laps. Once her legs felt good she started doing some stick work with a puck, doing all kinds of crazy and weird things to get her mind going. Barlows visor was tinted a slight blue to where you could still see her eyes, but it was darker and the blue kept the glare off the ice. After having a concussion a few years back she switched to the tinted visor to help reduce the glare so she could focus better. She continued to warm up, passing the puck around with Mark and Max. They talked and joked around lighty, taking turns making shots at the net now and again, though Flower would stop them with ease. Barlow didn't like to show off before the game started, so that younger players couldn't pick up on her play style off the bat, and she could surprise them.

"Are you ready for Desert Hockey?" Asked Max as he skated up next to her well she pushed around the puck lightly. She smiled up at the forward and nodded her head. She was happy to be back on the ice, with the roar of the crowd. Tonight they played against the Arizona Coyotes for the start of the preseason. She loved the shine of the gold and glitter that seemed to be everywhere. She always admired it when she used to play against Vegas, but now to be a part of the shine was something special.

Looking up and behind Flower's net, she saw Katie with Harper in an alternate Vegas Jersey, her number on the sleeves and back with "Mommy" over the number. A huge smile broke out across her face as she began to skate over to the glass. She tapped Flower on the pads with her stick as she skated by, nodding her head towards the glass. She bummed into the glass, making Harper laugh as she waved to her mother.

"HI BABY!" Barlow yelled over the noise and through the glass to her daughter. Placing a gloved hand on the glass she waited for Harper to place hers on the glass on the other side. She loved watching her daughter smile and laugh, her eyes wide as she watched all the lights and skaters on the ice. She felt someone skate up beside her and saw Marc out of the corner of her eye. He tapped on the glass with his stick, making Harper laugh. He laughed as well, a happy sound filling the space between them. He had a puck in his glove, and he tossed it over the glass for Harper to catch. She squealed with joy as she held the puck in her hands. Barlow smiled at Marc before waving to Harper one last time before going back to warmups.

"Thank you, she really loved that." She told Flower as they skated back away from the glass. He smiled brightly, his cheeks a rosey color from the cold air.

"Anytime for her."

Those three words were all that were needed to make the smile on Barlow's face brighter. The horn sounded, telling the players warmups were over. Taking her time to get to the line, making sure she fell back into the middle of the lineup, she went down the tunnel with the guys to the locker room to await the start of lineup. Hockey season started now.

#knightsofsliverandgoldstory #kosagstory #marc andre fleury #nhl #nhl fanfic #nhl goalies #nhl goaltender story #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #marc andré fleury fanfiction #marc andré fleury #vegas golden knights #nhl golden knights #golden knights #minnesota wild #pittsburgh penguins

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exanimateisacomic · 3 months

Text

When Eliza met Luis

The stale circulated air seemingly dripped with misery and anguish. The yellowish haze from the fluorescent lights filled the space with a static buzz and was the cause of many migraines.

She hated it here, even without all these ailments, she truly hated this office deep down in her core. If she could remember who she was in life, she might’ve found the strength to flee this land of paperclips and grey carpets. But she doesn’t so she hasn’t and suffering she continues.

She made her way through the crowd that was ever present within these drywall enclosures. Everyone had desks that they could be sitting at, tolling away at their never-ending tasks given to them and yet here they were, stepping over each other and squishing past one another. And the shouting…

“Get that file to him!”

“That has to be duplicated and sent to her”

“That needs signatures and faxed to the northern offices.”

The words seem to drone on, pounding her temples and adding to her inner distress. She thought to herself ‘At least one’s said-‘

“Hey look out! Extra large Eliza is coming through!” Someone shouted over the chaos. Even though business needed to be done, it didn't stop many eyes from prying away from their work to look at the large demon just trying to get to her desk for her lunch break. There were a few chortles and some repeats of that nickname. Eliza pushed her glasses up her blunt hooked nose and used her hand to cover her face in shame until she was able to duck into an unused conference room. She couldn’t make it to her desk, not with the mob out there.

Luckily she had been clutching onto her meal from the cafeteria, a sad tuna salad sandwich, low-sodium chips, and a diet soda. Somehow it cost a whole day and a half of pay.

She pulled out one of the office chairs and sat at the conference table, setting out her food and getting ready to eat. On the wall opposite her was a TV that was muted, playing the headline that had been running for a few weeks now. About some rouge demon soldier who deserted from the army mid-mission and ran off with a ton of money and there’s a reward out for his death.

‘That would be nice, a big payout for some loser. It would be enough for me to get out of this dump’ she thought as he bitterly took a bite of the surprisingly bland sandwich.

They flashed his name once more as the talking head rambled on about this fiend. “Luis Lynch, such a crude name.” she muttered.

She took another bite just as thunder boomed outside, her attention was now drawn to the window where she could see the pain pounding at smudged glass.

"At least I'm inside."

————————-

His feet smacked the pavement hard, causing splashes to kick up and soak his faded slacks. He ducked into the alleyway and pressed himself against the wall behind the dumpster. His heart was in his stomach as he caught his breath.

His drenched green raincoat was the only thing keeping his rail-thin body dry and warm. all he could grab to put on was a faded yellow shirt, the slacks, and his boots. the shirt had the graphic text "FACK" plaster in a chunky font, distressed and falling apart.

‘How the fuck did they find me? I should’ve had another day at least.’ He thought to himself. He grasped tightly at the straps of the two duffle bags he had over his shoulder. Gripping on to all he could grab before the chase began. Raising his head to peek over the lip of the dumpster to see if his assailants were after him still. He caught sight of some fuck in uniform

‘Shit’ he reflexively reached for his service revolver from his shoulder holster and gripped the walnut grip tightly, thumb resting on the hammer. His mind was now a roulette wheel, spinning between fight or flight. He was never one for direct one-on-one conflicts and there were eyes all over looking for him, taking out this uniform would spell disaster. Glancing around him, he happens to catch sight of an ajar door leading into the unsuspecting building he was crouching near.

Flight it is.

Glancing over once more at the busy street, he saw the uniform's head face the other way. He eased out of his squat and slinked over and into the door. Direct conflict wasn’t Luis’ cup of tea, stealth was.

————————-

Eliza crumpled up her empty bag of chips, grabbed the rest of her meal rubbish, and walked over to the open bin that was over by the corner of the room. As the trash hit the bottom, the door swung open, slamming into the wall with a thunderous BOOM. eliza immediately dived to the ground, the conference table providing cover for her.

Luis looked around the empty room, seeing nothing but a long table in the middle of the room, a few chairs lining the sides of it, a counter with a TV, and a trash can in the far left corner.

‘Safe’ he thought as he tossed the bags onto the table, his gun slipping from his grip and landing with a THUNK and sliding onto the table, settling towards the edge but not quite toppling over. he didn't even notice as he was busy trying to calm himself down after the flurry of rushing through the door and slinking into this unused room.

Eliza flinched at the sound of the gun hitting the table and glanced up just in time to see it stopping just shy of the edge. The dark wood of the grip seemingly enticed her. She crawled over and slowly peered over the table to see the goddam fugitive from the news pacing around the opposite end of the room. He hadn’t noticed her, something she was just a bit surprised by, given how often he was singled out by her co-workers. Her stare shot back to the gun.

An idea popped into her head. She often had ideas like this but there was never any reason to act on them... until today.

Luis paced back and forth in a small spot, his hands running through his wet and greasy hair. He stopped and stared at the floor, rain dripping from his coat. He reached into his interior breast pocket for his smokes as he plotted his next move.

Taking a bent-up cigarette from the crumpled soft pack, he popped it into his mouth and snapped his fingers, the friction from his index and thumb acting like a flint as his thumb caught on fire and settled into a small flame similar to a lighter. As he raised his thumb to the loosely packed cigarette he heard the hammer on his gun cock back.

“There’s n-no smoking here sir…” a mature-sounding voice sad from the opposite end. “No, sorry. I meant Luis.”

His eyes widened in shock as he snapped his head over to see who had gotten the better of him.. and locked eyes with the stunning beaut of a demon. If it weren’t for the drab office outfit, he could’ve sworn she was an angel or actress. even though he'd been with plenty of women before, and yet she made him feel different.

“Oh wow, you're beautiful.” He muttered aloud as he snuffed out his thumb and raised his hands up in compliance.

Eliza froze for a minute, taken aback by the man’s comment. “You can't woo me that easily, Lynch!” she said, trying to hide her bashful expression.

Luis nodded “I wasn't trying to but good to know.” He was able to tell that his comment affected her a bit. he glanced over at the TV and saw the headlines about his desertion and subsequent chase. they flashed his bounty once more “Wait, that’s my bounty?”

Eliza flicked her eyes over to the screen and then quickly back to Luis “Y-yes, it is." She said. Suddenly feeling more confident, she continued “And in-in my opinion, I think they’re offering too much for a degenerate like you.“

Luis was taken aback by the woman's words, he hadn't said anything yet to upset her. This was hate that came from deep within her. He lowered his hand out in front of him “no, I mean that I stole way more than-“ He said

Eliza stepped forward, thrusting the gun towards him “No, no you don't get to interrupt me! I spent a lot of time in this shit hole either getting ignored for my contributions or getting harassed like all the other girls in this god-forsaken place and now you- you slinky, waterlogged creep! You listen to me! The way I see it I can shoot your sorry ass and drag you to the cops and get that reward, maybe then I'll-" The frenzy had begun to dull in her eyes. "I’ll… uh…” As she became lost in thought, she straightened her back, revealing her true stature of seven feet.

Luis looked up at her, a mix of fear and arousal running through his body, as she was looking for a conclusion. “Oh my, you're quite tall…" he muttered

Eliza didn't seem to hear him, her focus was on getting her thoughts together. “Damn, I had more I wanted to say but now it’s not there." she shook her head and brought her focus back to Luis.

"Regardless, I’m in control here and I want out of this goddamn life and you're gonna be the ticket to that!"

Luis nodded “Sounds reasonable."

Eliza couldn't hide her shock. "eh?" the way he just casually agreed with her really was out of left field

Luis slowly brought his hands down and picked the cigarette out of his mouth, the filter was now frayed and smushed from being in his mouth. "I mean, I get it. why else do you think I'd do something like abandon mid-mission, take an obscene amount of money from the army, and flee?"

She stared him down, her face turning into a scowl in thought. "I dunno, because you're weird?"

Luis shrugged "I mean, I am. but that isn't why." he pointed to his head "It's because I remembered." he said, grinning smugly.

She let out a gasp.

————————-

“I remembered who I was in my human life. They said it wasn’t possible for demons.” His smarmy smile with a missing front tooth was all she could focus on.

"You..." she shook her head "Liar, I'm calling bullshit!" she said, white-knuckling the pistol in her hand and now actively sticking the barrel in Luis' face.

He continued to smile as he spoke.

"I was quite the character in life. all I did was drugs, booze, and women. My parents all but wrote me off if it weren't for the support of my kid brother." he said calmly. "he'd always stick his neck out for me and believed I could be better. I really looked up to him. and he-"

Suddenly his smile faded and his eyes went misty.

"He was the target of the damnation mission I was on not too long ago."

Eliza slowly pulled the gun away from his face. She'd heard of these missions, hell she even had to file some of the processing files once or twice.

Demon soldiers go to the surface and cause the deaths of humans to harvest their souls to be used in places like her office.

"He was a sentimental guy. had a Polaroid of us framed in his house. I passed away not long after this was taken." he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a photo with one of the edges slightly burnt. he held it up to her.

She squinted at the photo, she then took off her large glasses so she could see better.

Luis was shocked once more at her beauty, being able to see her orange marmalade eyes.

Eliza’s vision finally came into focus, a shot of two young men in some living room. One was a nerdy type of guy with glasses that had thick lenses and the other was a strung-out beanpole of a guy, cigarette hanging off his lips, and a beer in his hand. her eyes looked over to Luis and back to the Beanpole drunk in the photo.

"Holy shit... so it is possible..." She muttered. Her grip relaxed as she let her arm fall to her side.

"By the time I remembered everything, it was too late for him. now he's somewhere in this realm of existence because of me. I couldn't continue my services knowing what I did. so...I ran."

As Luis looked back at the tv, that’s when Eliza grasped his jacket lapel and brought him closer to her, practically lifting him up in the air.

“Okay Luis, you’ve proved your point. But what’s gonna stop me from killing you?” She said.

“Uh-how about a date?” He said with a smile and a light chuckle

#exanimate #luis lynch #eliza lynch #original character #personal project #original post

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rommahh · 3 years

Text

{Harry in sparkly black….Harry lemme **** *** *** for free}

You hadn’t talked to Harry all day. Not that you were mad at him or anything but your therapy this morning left you feeling a little spacey. There was something about talking about your emotions that left you feeling emotionally drained.

You missed Harry terribly and though it’s only been a short week, you felt very lonely. But on another note, your anxiety wasn’t as bad as it was. You were starting to feel like your normal self again but missing something.

You loved the tight knit life you have with Harry. You like being around him most hours of the day. You two were inseparable. If you were in the shower, he was in the bathroom reading a book from the lounger chair in the corner. If he was writing music on the beach, you were somewhere on the shore collecting shells. If you were going to the grocery store the least he could do was go for the drive with you. You two were close and it was something the both of you were ok with.

Some couples don’t like being so close but it worked for you and Harry. Being away from Harry was a weird experience. It’s only been a week but you feel like it’s been a lifetime. You haven’t minded being on your own but you wanted to be with the person you felt most connected to.

So being you, you purchased a ticket to Chicago. You didn’t know how Harry was going to react but you could only assume it would be a positive reaction. You told Jeff that you were coming so he could get you a hotel key and backstage pass.

As you sat in the airport you felt your back pocket buzz- your music pausing for the call. Your hand slipped into the pocket roughly pulling out the small phone. Harry’s icon, him in a fluffy robe looking as grumpy as ever, met your eyes. You cursed because you were quite obviously in the airport and if he saw you, the surprise would be ruined.

You answered anyways but only for audio. You made sure that your airpods were snug in you ear and there was no chance of them falling out.

“My lover!” Harry greets you a in sing song voice. You could hear his humph as he recognizes that you didn’t answer with the FaceTime video on. “Turn your camera on.”

“Can’t, I’m not feeling good.” You fib nervously. Harry frowned, nervous that he may have done something to upset you.

“Oh, alright. What’s wrong then?” He asks. You chew your lip trying to think of an answer.

“Uh, period.” You stammer.

“Your period doesn’t start for another few day…saw it on the tracker.” Harry may have your period tracker on his phone but it was because he wanted to make sure he was able to comfort you the best way he could when he needed to.

“Must be the meds-“ The sound of your boarding attendant sounded over your head cutting you off. “Hey bubs, I’ve actually got to go but we can’t chat later.”

“Sure, that’s fine I guess. Love you.” He mumbles, confused by the phone call. You hang up leaving Harry a little lost in his thoughts.

Later, Harry sang through his rehearsal carelessly, his head clouded with thoughts. He even sang through TBSL and though he was in the worst of moods, fans waiting at the venue thought he never sounded better.

You on the other hand had just sat through the worst flight of your life. There was a woman in the flight who didn’t want to wear her mask causing commotion before the flight could even take off. You had the worst headache halfway through the flight and because of the lack on supplies, the flight couldn’t give you any ginger ale or accommodations.

You didn’t let any of it get to you though as you directed for the chauffeur Jeff sent for you to go to the venue for show.

Harry sat in the common room backstage with the band and Jeff eating dinner grumpily. His fork was stabbing every little piece of lettuce of his salad, everyone watched worried that he may break his bowl.

“HS3 is trending on Twitter today, pretty exciting.” Jeff says to Harry breaking the silence. Jeff just received a text from you saying that you arrived to the venue and were walking towards Harry’s dressing room.

“Mmm great.” Harry grumbles. Jeff rolled his eyes at the diva.

“Someone’s a little pissy this evening. How about you go fix that mood before you greet your fans with a bad attitude.” Jeff scolds him like a child who just got caught doing something they shouldn’t have. Jeff really didn’t care about Harry’s attitude, used to the moods at this point, but he needed a way for Harry to leave the room and see you in the dressing room.

“Fine, didn’t want to be around anyways.” Harry shrugs.

Back in Harry’s dressing room, you rolled your suitcase into a corner where Harry’s outfit for the night resided on a hanger. You smiled at the sparkly black top that you helped pick out. You walked around his dressing room from the hair and makeup table, past the bathroom/ dressing area, and back around to the couch’s and coffee table where you took a seat. You snagged one of his green juices needing the boost of energy from being on the flight.

You heard the door knob jiggle but stayed planted in you seat sipping on the juice. You never made a peep as Harry barged through the room, scowl covering his face. He stormed past the couch not batting an eye at you. He went to the mini fridge where his juices were before letting an exasperated sigh.

“Who fucking took my juice?” He whines. You quietly giggle in your hand at his tone.

“Im sorry, thought I could have it.” You chuckle. Harry leaps from where he stands letting out a yell. He turns to look at you with wide eyes, hand over his chest as if his heart was going to explode from his chest. You stood from the couch waiting for him to react more but he just stood there in shock. When the realization of you actually being there kicked in he let out another yell before bounding over to you.

Before you knew it, you had two strong arms wrapped tightly around you. Your wrapped around his neck, hands and fingers spread through his hair. His face tucked into your lower neck peppering desperate kisses all over just to feel something.

“What are you doing here?” You hear him cry. You pulled away from him to wipe his eyes of the tears that streamed down his face.

“I needed to see you.” Was all you could muster. He pulled you down on the couch, your body cushioning his larger frame. He laid in between your legs, your back flat in the body of the couch.

“Im so happy your here.” Harry couldn’t even put his excitement into words. He knew you were coming in a week but to have you here earlier than that made him feel things. He sat up from suffocating you into the couch, allowing for you to sit up beside him. “What about your therapy? I hope you’re not jeopardizing your mental health to be here with me cause I would much prefer if you put me on the back burner and took care of yourself.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I’m ok. I still will see my therapist virtually, I’ve got all new meds that are working fine, and if all goes to shit I will go back home. It’s ok bubs.” You reassure him.

He grabs your face with both hands pulling your face to his. Your lips meet with need. His lips slotting with yours, moving slowly but with rigor as if he was scared you would slip from his fingers. Your bottom lips fit between his lips leaving for him to suck on it slightly. You moaned at the feeling making Harry pull you in tighter. You sat slightly upon his lap, chest against each other tightly. Your tongues pushed at one another, lips loving in tangent.

You pulled away when you felt his lower presence awaken. He whined at the loss of contact making you giggle.

“If we go any further you’re gonna be late for your show. I’ll give you more back at the hotel, yeah?” You say lowly trying to catch your breathe. He groaned resting his forehead on yours chasing your lips with chaste kisses making you smile.

“Fine, you owe my though. This is level three apology situation that can only be resolved with these things; sloppy blowies, butt stuff, or face masks if you catch my drift.” He chastised. You let out a deep belly laugh pushing yourself away from him. You two still sit facing each other, your legs slightly on top of his.

“You’re so nasty, but I may be able to arrange one of those.” You wink making Harry let out a triumphant laugh.

“Are you staying for the show? I understand if your not.” He questions fiddling with your fingers.

“Think it would be best if I didn’t. I’m really tired and I obviously need a nap if I’m going to be up for your post show antics.” You joke giving his nose a poke. He jokingly pretends to bite your finger in retaliation.

Harry went on stage that night happier than ever. He started plotting proposals from the second he walked you to the car with your suitcase and waved goodbye to you. You went to the hotel room and “accidentally” fell asleep wearing one of your most recent purchases curled up in your tour bus blanket.

Let’s just say that Harry not so accidentally woke you up after that concert ready to love all of his adrenaline off in you.

Part 2👀

#harry styles love on tour #hslot #hslot Chicago #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #Harry Styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot

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ohsnapcracklepopfriends · 3 years

Text

Here it is friends. Part one of my Taylor-Swift-nostalgia induced carraville fic. I will be writing a short part two but I figured I’d get this up now and it could be read on its own at this point. I haven’t proof read it so please excuse any mistakes but I hope you enjoy!

Jamie undid his tie. It was a plaid tie, blue instead of red to suggest his neutrality. It was a good day or at least it should’ve been. Liverpool beat Everton two to one, he’d had a good show (no one was harassing him on Twitter yet and Gary had made a few mistakes, Jamie thought that qualified a pretty good show), and he had a date at eleven. He should be fucking buzzing but Jamie just feels the idle hum of numbness. Even the five-goal thriller that was their first game of the night hadn’t got his heart pumping like it used to.

Gary walked in silently, startling Jamie who quickly pulled on a jumper. Not that his state of dress mattered, Gary’s eyes stayed glued to the floor. He walked to the far corner of the dressing room to change out of his suit, as far away from Jamie as possible. He hadn’t said a word to Jamie all night when the cameras weren’t rolling. It hurt. Especially when Gary was so good at acting like everything was fine when the commercial break ended. He even fooled Jamie a few times.

Kelly knocked on the door, making sure they were both decent, before walking in to say goodnight. Jamie watched as Gary smiled at Kelly, as he laughed with her about something. Jamie used to do that: make Gary laugh. Kelly turns her attentions to Jamie. She compliments him on his interview tonight and asks him where he and Tom are going for their date.

“It’s quite late,” she comments, “you can’t really be going to dinner.” Jamie give her a fake laugh.

“I’ve got a reservation and everything Kells. We’re going to that new vegan place. He’s picking me up.” You heard that right: vegan. Because on top of everything, Tom fucking cared about animals and the environment. Jamie wasn’t complaining too much, though. He could suffer through some tofu if it meant not having to go to Gary and his old haunts.

“Ooh!” Kelly said, “do I get to meet him? Redknapp keeps talking about how lovely he is, I figure I could judge for myself.” Ah, yes, Redders. Running into Redders had been an accident. They managed to bump into him at the golf course the week before. Tom was good at golf, unlike Redders, as much as he tried to be. Tom gave him a few pointers, helping Redders fix his posture for his swings. They ended up playing a whole round together while Jamie played ping-pong with an eight-year-old girl in the clubhouse. Redders hadn’t shut up about how Tom’s wonderfulness and his perfect swing since. Jamie nodded at Kelly. He figured he couldn’t do any more damage.

The three of them stood in the parking lot waiting for Tom’s car to pull in. He wasn’t late of course, he never is, they just got out earlier than anticipated. Gary had tried to skitter off to his car but Kelly practically dragged him back up on the curb. Gary, despite trying to put on an agreeable face, looked about as miserable as Jamie felt. Jamie thought he was slightly better at hiding it though.

At 10:59 Tom’s blue Volkswagen pulled in. One minute early. He wore a nice checked shirt with the first few buttons undone. His hair and shirt were miraculously crisp and clean after a full day of work. He looked like a fucking god with his symmetrical face, sharp bone structure, and straight nose. Kelly certainly took note of that. “Our Carra is a lucky man!” She whispered before going over to Tom to introduce herself. Tom shook her hand and complimented her dress which, to be fair, was a very nice floral pattern.

Tom stuck his hand out for Gary to shake. “Hello Gary, my name’s Tom. It’s nice to meet you.” Gary takes a minute to collect himself and takes Tom’s outstretched hand giving it a firm shake.

“It’s nice to meet you as well.” It sounds remarkably fake, of course it does, but Tom doesn’t seem to notice. He just turns towards Jamie with a perfect smile.

“You have such lovely friends, Jamie. It was nice to meet you both.” Jamie wasn’t so sure about that but played along and let Tom walk him to the car. Tom opened Jamie’s door for him before walking around to get in himself. He saw Kelly sling an arm around Gary’s shoulders as they drove away. Jamie took a deep breath and remembered it was all for the best. He reminded himself that this was what he wanted: stability. He didn’t want to fight anymore. The words Gary had said that night still rung in his ears. He was sure his own snarls were not forgotten either.

It started to rain as they parked but Tom had an umbrella. Gary never had an umbrella. You’d think that living in Manchester he’d learn to at least keep one in his car. Instead, he resorted to sprinting away from the rain as fast as he could trying to avoid the rain, he wasn’t as fast as he used to be. But Tom was prepared, he always was. He held the umbrella for the both of them as they walked around to the front of the restaurant.

“James, try the torte it’s quite delicious.” Jamie hated being called James. Absolutely hated it. Not when Gary said it though. His stupid manc accent stretched the vowels into velvet. When Gary said it he felt special. Tom’s polished London accent made him feel posh, pretentious, and twatty. James. Ugh. It was like the word torte. It’s a fucking cake, just call it what it is. Jamie took a bite of the torte. It was good if you ignored the aftertaste of soya in the frosting, a little dry, but Jamie nodded his head like it was an orange mcflurry. He let Tom finish the dessert.

They’re in the car. Tom’s dropping Jamie off at his apartment. Tom must have noticed that Jamie had been quiet and switched the topic to something a little more in his wheelhouse: football. They were talking about England and possible squads for the upcoming international break. Tom started talking about moving Kyle Walker into midfield and Jamie couldn’t take it.

“That’s bollocks. Where is the one place on the field where we actually have players? Fucking midfield. Gareth’s drowning in defenders but not experienced ones. Playing Walker in midfield fucking undermines Henderson and leaves the young centrebacks overexposed.” Tom laughs for some reason. Jamie doesn’t find it funny.

“Well, you would certainly know.” This is what you want, he reminds himself again. Peace, calm, stability. This is happiness. But, fuck, Jamie missed Gary. He missed the challenge. He missed the little crease between Gary’s eyes. He missed Gary’s squeaky voice when he gets worked up. He missed fighting and bickering with Gary over things that didn’t matter. He missed screaming at Gary and Gary screaming back. He missed the really hot sex they’d have after such screaming matches, making Gary scream in a different, more satisfying way. He missed Gary’s laugh, his smile. It seemed to Jamie that neither of them have smiled much since that day. Jamie thought that smiling didn’t seem worth it if Gary wasn’t smiling back.

Jamie checked his phone. It was nearing 1 am. He had a handful of messages from Kelly. Jamie didn’t want to read about how great she thought Tom was, he fucking knew that Tom was great. On paper, he was fucking perfect. The perfect boyfriend. The dream guy. Not for Jamie though. He dreamed of an angry, passionate, crazy, wonderful manc. He opened his messages anyways though, figuring Tom would want to hear what Kelly thought about him.

Jamie. I know you’re on your date but we need to talk. Can you call me? It’s about Gaz. The first one read.

He’s at mine. Really upset. He said not to talk to you so I figure you know what’s going on. That sounded about right. Kelly caring more about Gary’s well being than Gary himself. Gary was too stubborn to care.

Call me please. The last one read. Fuck. They’d made a mess of things. Not only had they made a mess of themselves, but they’d also dragged the others into it.

“Can you pull into that park up there?” Jamie asked Tom. He nodded and turned down the radio, waiting for Jamie to say something more. He didn’t though. Not until he got out of the car and puked some partially digested salad in the grass. Tom came over to him and rested his palm on Jamie’s mid back. Gary used to pet his hair, carding his fingers through it, on those mornings after he’d had a little too much to drink.

Jamie laid on his back in the middle of the parking lot. The rain soaked through his thin shirt in seconds. Tom looked down at him concerned. “I can’t do this, Tom. You’re so lovely. I mean you’re so fucking lovely but I just can’t—”

“I get it, James. You’re still in love with him.” The bastard still looked perfect even drenched with rain. Jamie guessed that he probably looked like a drowned rat. Jamie must have been giving him a confused look because he laughed and explained further. “I saw the way you used to look at him on the tele like he’s the fucking sun. I saw the way you looked at him tonight like being around him was tearing you apart. Besides, I’m pretty sure half the nation knew there was something going on there.” Jamie laughed at that. They had been pretty obvious. And not just Gary, apparently. Apparently, he was just as open of a book. He needed to call Kelly.

She picked up after three rings. “Hi Carra,” she whispered, “needed to get out of the living room, Gaz’s sleeping on my couch.”

“Is he okay?” Jamie asked, not really wanting to hear the answer.

“He’s a wreck, Jamie. He misses you.” I miss him too, Jamie didn’t say, so much.

“Can I come round?” Jamie asked. Kelly said yes so long as Jamie can get Gary the hell out of her living room and gave Carra her address.

Thankfully, Kelly’s place was nearby, about a mile away. Jamie didn’t know where he got the energy considering he was dead on his feet a few minutes before, but he ran there as fast as he possibly could. His water-filled shoes squished loudly with every step. He got there in seven minutes and was panting heavily when he knocked on the door. Kelly let him in wordlessly.

Gary was still sleeping on the couch when he walked into the living room. Kelly gave him a nod and walked into the kitchen. Jamie kneeled next to Gary and cupped his cheek with his palm. Jamie hadn’t realized how much he’d missed that simple feeling. Gary’s forehead was still crinkled in his sleep. His eyes were dark like he hadn’t slept much. Jamie hadn’t either. It was hard to sleep alone, without Gary’s comforting weight on his chest. Jamie took Gary’s hand from where it was tucked under his chin and intertwined their fingers. The weight of Gary’s hand in his set relief running through Jamie’s body. Gary started to stir at that.

“James?” Jamie smiles at that. His stupid name sounds beautiful coming from Gary’s mouth. His eyes weren’t even open yet and Gary already knows it’s him. “What are you doing here?” He opened his eyes slightly but upon seeing Jamie they were wide open. Gary’s eyes were red and bloodshot. Jamie just wanted to yank him into his arms and hug him forever.

“What are you doing here, you muppet? Bothering Kelly at 2 am?” Jamie said playfully. Gary flushed slightly. “Come on, Gaz. Let’s get you home.” He grabbed Gary’s hand to pull him up. Gary stumbled when he tried to take a step. Carra looked down at the empty beer bottles and figured that was why. He grabbed Gary’s arm and slung it over his shoulder. Gary’s head rested in the crook of Jamie’s neck, his soft breathing tickling at the skin there.

“Kelly,” Jamie called softly into the kitchen, “we’re leaving.” She came out to stand in the doorway in her fluffy, pink bunny slippers that Jamie had somehow not noticed before. Jamie thought he should get Gary a pair.

“Set an alarm,” she said, “he wakes up early. Don’t let him bolt.” Jamie figured Gary wouldn’t be racing out of his apartment at 5 am with the hangover he was sure to have but it was still a good idea. Gary was an unpredictable, stubborn bastard at times. Jamie thanked her and helped Gary down to his car.

It was still pouring when they got out of the building because clearly the gods wanted Gary to either sober up or catch his death. Thankfully, in his upset Gary had forgotten to lock the car meaning Carra didn’t have to fumble around for his keys in the current weather. Except, that Gary wouldn’t get into the car. He sprawled his limbs over the door so Jamie couldn’t push him inside.

“Gary, if you don’t get your arse in that car, I’m going to leave you out here to drown.” Obviously, he wasn’t serious but he figured that Gary might be drunk enough not to know that. Gary just smiled up fondly at him and stayed put.

“I love you,” he said, looking like the most radiant, beautiful thing Jamie had ever seen in his life. His hair was a mess, stuck down to his forehead. His cheeks were bright red from a mix of alcohol and the cold. His eyes were still red but god they held all the love in the world. Jamie could see that somehow, after everything, Gary still loved him, truly loved him. After all the things he said, screamed, did, this man--this beautiful man--still loved Jamie every ounce as much as Jamie loved him. It didn’t matter what he should want, he wanted Gary and all of his adorable, infuriating flaws. His recipe to happiness was just that: his own. He didn’t need stability, calm, peace. He needed to feel something.

Jamie cupped his face for the second time that night. He ran his thumb over Gary’s wet, stubbly cheeks. Jamie couldn’t help himself. He kissed Gary with all of the kisses they’d missed in the past two months. The two months of pain, loneliness, desolation. He kissed Gary with all of the love he had in his cold, wet body and Gary did the same. Gary moved slower than Jamie, less frantically but no less enthusiastically. Gary clutched at his jacket like a vice, unwilling to let go. Jamie moved his hands around Gary’s body. He wanted to make sure that everything was still as he remembered it. And it was. Of course, it was. He had Gary in his arms, it didn’t matter that the rain had picked up. Though, he was sure he’d hear about the soggy interior of Gary’s car in the morning. He pulled away reluctantly for breath and rested his forehead against Gary’s.

#carraville #jamie carragher #gary neville #thank you taylor for the inspiration #very loosely inspired by the way I loved you #my fic

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irishseeeker · 3 years

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chapter 2 of rules don’t apply!

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

Kate needed a drink.

Actually, she needed two drinks. A minimum of two. She had needed a drink earlier that day at one in the afternoon when Anthony Bridgerton’s email popped into her inbox and ruined her entire day, she had needed another drink when she had to sit opposite from his smug, smirking face for an entire hour during a staff meeting.

She needed a takeaway, lying in her favourite ratty t-shirt and sweatpants on her couch cuddling with her beloved corgi Newton.

Instead, she was with her sister, standing at the top of a marble staircase that led to the buzzing hall where the gala was being held. Kate stood beside Edwina, who was a vision in a blue lace gown with her dark hair in curls. Kate had gone for a violet satin dress, already prepared to be invisible tonight. She usually was when she was with her sister.

She was Edwina Sheffield, and Kate was just...Kate.

It was in an art gallery in the centre of London. As much as she despised these events, Kate couldn’t find a fault in the venue. It was quite beautiful, actually. Kate had always loved art, it was a hobby she had adored in school and she turned to when she was stressed or felt like doing something other than lay on her coach with Newton watching New Girl for the tenth time.

At least the art on the walls could distract Kate from where she actually was, which was her idea of pure and utter hell.

“Would it kill you to smile?”

“I am smiling,” Kate responded through gritted teeth, turning to look at her sister.

“You look constipated.”

Kate snorted. “Charming.”

“I love you for coming with me tonight. I know these events aren’t really your thing,” Edwina put lightly, but it was no use. They were both well aware this was Kate’s idea of purgatory. “A lot of people would die to be here! The tickets are really hard to get.”

“I wonder why,” Kate mused, knowing exactly why. “How much was a ticket tonight? Two hundred pounds? I’m sure most of that is going towards the charity and not the cost per plate of lobster covered in caviar and twelve pounds per salad leaf.”

“Kate,” Edwina said sternly, giving her a sister a hard look that quickly faded as she smiled and waved at someone in the distance. “Behave.”

“I always behave,” Kate tutted, smiling sweetly at her sister as they walked down the stairs towards the large room full of people and portraits hanging on the walls.

“Please try not to insult anyone tonight, I know people here. I work for people here,” Edwina nudged her slightly, giving her another look that reminded Kate so much of their mother Mary whenever she scolded Kate.

“I promise I’ll be on my best behavior,” Kate gave in, putting on a smile as she noticed a few heads turn to look at Edwina. This was Edwina’s job, she wasn’t her for the hell of it. She squeezed her sister’s hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be mean. Today was just a bad day.”

“I don’t even have to ask about why you’ve had a bad day,” Edwina said, turning to give her sister a teasing smile. “It’s, as always, because of Anthony Bridgerton.”

Kate frowned, not liking being so predictable. It made her uneasy sometimes how quickly Edwina could read her, but that’s because she was her sister. Kate could do the same. Besides, surely she didn’t talk about him that much, did she? “Well, actually-yes, it was because of him. He pulled a stunt for this project he wants passed which I have opposed numerous times. He’s incredibly irritating. He would not stop smirking at me during the staff meeting earlier. He’s infuriating.”

Edwina didn’t say anything to her sister, she just smirked knowingly at her and wiggled her eyebrows.

“What?” Kate said, frowning further at her sister. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Oh Kate,” Edwina sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “When are you going to admit that you like him?”

Kate gasped, earning a look or two from people they passed by. Everyone was so dressed up and eloquent and Kate felt like she stuck out like a sore thumb. It was why she always hated these events, she didn’t belong here. “Edwina! I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Kate said, quite flustered, tilting her chin up in the air as she avoided eye contact, glancing around the room.

A woman standing a few meters away from them called out Edwina’s name and it was Kate’s perfect opportunity to escape this uneasy conversation. “I’ll be at the bar. Enjoy!” Kate said swiftly, walking away from her sister before Edwina could open her mouth to reply. She leaned against the bar, smiling at the bar tender who was standing behind it. "Hi, how are you? Could I get a glass of white wine, please? Your largest.”

She heard a snort behind her.

“Well, well, well.”

Kate’s heart momentarily stopped in her chest. She didn’t have to turn around to recognize that voice.

It was his voice.

What was he doing here? She had never come across him at once of these events before. However, he was a Bridgerton. They worked with many charities and his mother, Violet Bridgerton, had ran the Bridgerton charitable foundation for many years which her and her late husband had set up.

The Bridgertons got invited everywhere. They were one of the most famous families in London.

Deep breath, Kate. She could do this. She could remain calm and unaffected.

“Don’t you have someone else to talk to?” She replied coolly, taking a long gulp of her wine before turning around to face him. She was determined to remain composed and unaffected.

Wow. Okay. Deep breath, Kate. She could admit to herself, and only herself, he looked good.

He had changed into an evening suit, which was completely black with a crisp white shirt and a baby blue tie. It probably cost more than her monthly rent.

Anthony smirked at her, shaking the red wine glass in his hand slightly. “Why would I do that when it’s so much more fun to annoy you?”

“Ah, and there it is,” Kate raised her glass in a cheers to no one, shaking her head as she brought the glass to her lips and took another long sip. “It’s officially the worst day of my life.”

“Ouch Sheffield,” replied Anthony, putting a hand over his heart in his expensive, pretentious suit that he definitely did not look great in. “You’re almost making me think you don’t like me.”

“Almost?” Kate raised an eyebrow, narrowing her eyes at his playful smirk. God, she despised him. “Oh, I’ll make sure to try harder so you know how much I don’t like you.”

“That’s no way to talk to your boss,” Anthony replied, a challenging look in his eye as he took a sip of his brandy. “Most employees would treat their employers with respect.”

He was right, it wasn’t any way to talk to your boss. Kate had crossed some lines with Anthony she had never crossed with anyone, particularly someone who was their boss. She could think of a few instances during one of their many screaming matches where she probably should have been fired. He had crossed those lines just as much-but he was a Bridgerton. The boss. The power was his. Yet, in the two years they had worked closely together, Kate had gotten promoted and wasn’t replaced or disposed of.

He was a very good employer, despite his reputation personality-the Bridgerton company had a reputation for treating their employees exceptionally well. Anthony was no exception.

He had always been in the papers, mainly gossip columns fawning over his good looks, his charming personality and what girl he had on his arm for the week.

“Well, when an employer has earned said respect,” The words were flying out of her mouth before she could stop them. “Then, naturally, they would be treated as such.”

“So you don’t respect me Kate?” He asked, biting his bottom lip for a few seconds that caused Kate’s breath to still. His suit was dark,

“What does it matter?” Kate responded, raising an eyebrow

Anthony stared at her and it made Kate uncomfortable. His gaze bore into her, but he remained expressionless. Something in their conversation had shifted and it no longer felt like their usual back and forth banter. “It matters.”

She opened her mouth to retort, but words failed her as she stared back at him. She had not expected him to say that. She had expected an insult or an annoying comeback, but not that. She sort of felt bad.

However, she would be damned if Anthony Bridgerton left her speechless.

“Anthony! There you are,” A woman of her mother’s age appeared at . Kate recognized Violet Bridgerton quickly, from the pictures around the office and on Bridgerton newsletters. She was dressed in a pale pink suit with a long blazer. “I want to introduce you to Cressida, her mother and I used to work together-Oh, hello!”

Kate gulped as Violet turned to her, smiling warmly as she extended her hand. “Anthony, aren’t you going to introduce us?”

“Mum, this is Kate Sheffield,” Anthony introduced her, and Kate shook his mother’s hand. “We work together. Kate, this is my mother, Violet Bridgerton.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Bridgerton.”

“Please call me Violet. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kate,” Violet said warmly, looking her up and down. “You look absolutely gorgeous tonight. How long have you been involved with the charity?”

“I’m actually here with my sister, Edwina Sheffield. She’s been involved for about a year but it’s my first event,” She replied, nodding as she listened to Violet talk about her work with the charity over the years.

“Kate works in the finance department,” Anthony said to his mother a while later, “We work together quite a lot.”

Violet grinned. “Oh, I do hope you are giving my son some trouble Kate.”

“Someone has to,” Kate smirked at Anthony, who gave her a pointed glare.

“Well then, in that area, you certainly have exceeded everyone’s expectations,” Anthony muttered, looking sort of put out as he

“I do try. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go find my sister. It was a pleasure meeting you Mrs. Bridgerton,” She smiled warmly at Violet before turning to nod at Anthony. “Anthony.”

“Kate,” He nodded back, taking a long sip of his wine as she walked away, and she swore she could feel his eyes on her as she walked away.

A while later, Kate gazed around the ballroom from her seat at her designated table. The food had been served and eaten, but Kate had barely touched hers. She had always been a picky eater and the most she ate was the vegetables. She spotted Anthon on the dance floor in the middle of the tables, dancing with his youngest sister, Hyacinth.

“He’s quite sweet.”

Kate’s head snapped back towards her sister, who was sitting beside her. “Who?”

Edwina smirked. “You know exactly who. The person who you have been staring at for the past ten minutes. Anthony Bridgerton.”

“Don’t be disgusting,” said Kate, shuddering as she shook her head. She had just been watching the dancefloor which he happened to be dancing on. “I was not staring.”

“I don’t blame you,” said Edwina, clearly enjoying torturing her sister. “He is quite good looking. Older. He’s quite charming.”

“How would you know he’s charming?” Kate asked, raising an eyebrow. She had kept her family and work life separate for a reason, and that reason mainly being any male within a radius of Edwina usually had fallen in love with her by the end of the day.

Anthony Bridgerton would not be one of those men.

“He introduced himself earlier, I was chatting to him and his brother, Benedict.”

“He introduced himself?” Kate gaped, turning to fully face her sister. “Why would he do that? Did he mention me?”

“He didn’t, actually,” Edwina replied, leaning back in her chair and fanning herself with the dinner menu. The gala room was quite stuffy and Edwina had only sat down five minutes ago after dancing with three different men. Kate had remained sitting and ate her dessert, the . “We just talked. He asked me about my job, I asked about his.”

“I’m sure he did,” Kate puffed, crossing her arms across her chest and leaning into her seat, looking slightly sulky. It's not as if she expected him to mention Kate. Why would he?

“So," Edwina began, pushing a dark curl behind her ear. "Do you plan on going there?”

“What?” Kate spluttered, nearly choking on air. “Of course not. He’s my boss! He’s-you know who he is. I would never-no. No. Not that he would ever want to-no. No! Why would you ask that?"

Edwina was grinning at her sister in a devious way for someone who was usually deemed so angelic and kind. “Okay. So you wouldn’t mind if I went there.”

“Of course I would mind! He’s incorrigible-“

“Putting your personal feelings aside,” Edwina interrupted, “It wouldn’t be because you wanted to go there, right?”

“Right,” Kate replied, her voice strained and high pitched. “Definitely right. You still shouldn't go there, he's far too old, he's far too him. ”

“I would never have any interest in someone you didn’t like Kate,” Edwina replied, reaching across the table to squeeze her sister’s hand, deciding she had teased her enough as she stood up. “I promised Nigel another dance. Are you okay here for a bit?"

Kate nodded, smiling at her sister as she walked over towards a tall, handsome man she presumed was Nigel.

“Kate, just the person I wanted to see,” Benedict Bridgerton grinned widely at her as he sat down in Edwina's seat.

“Hello, Benedict,” Kate said slowly, narrowing her eyes slightly at him. “Why would you want to see me?” They had only met today, and given her experience with Bridgertons so far, she remained cautious.

He continued to grin cheekily at her. She didn’t know him very well, but Benedict seemed a lot more laid back than his older brother. Anthony was so serious all the time. “There is no need to look so suspicious.”

Kate raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

“I can see why my brother likes you.”

“Your brother does not like me,” Kate grumbled, not wanting to speak about Anthony with anyone. “What can I do for you?”

“It’s about your assistant, Sophie.”

That was surprising. “Sophie?”

“Yes,” His face lit up, nodding eagerly. “What’s her situation?”

Kate stared cluelessly at him. “Her situation?”

Benedict sighed. “What’s she like? Is she seeing anybody?”

“Oh,” Kate drawled, the dots finally connecting in her head. She had never been quick when it came to romance. “Well, I am technically her boss so I’m not sure how appropriate it would be for me to comment.”

However, Sophie had asked about Anthony’s brothers earlier on after their meeting in his office. She had asked particularly if Kate knew the taller one, Benedict.

Sophie had never asked about any man before.

“I'm also her friend. Sophie is incredible,” Kate said, seeing his face light up. She didn’t understand what was going on, he had only met her briefly this morning but he was holding onto her every word. “She’s very smart, funny and extremely kind. She’s the best assistant I’ve ever had. She deserves everything.”

“So, if you ever need anything, you know where my office is. Sophie sits right outside of it,” Kate hinted, giving him a look. He didn’t seem like a bad guy and he had quite a good reputation around the office and in whatever she read about him. He was the charming Bridgerton.

Sophie deserved any possible happiness she could get, from what Kate knew, her life had been far from easy.

She didn’t know if she was crossing a line but what harm could it do?

“You, Kate Sheffield, are a vision,” Benedict took her hand and kissed it, which made Kate roll her eyes and blush simultaneously. “Do you want to dance?”

“I’m a terrible dancer,” Kate replied, shaking her head. “But thank you for asking.”

“I highly doubt that,” Benedict said but he didn’t push her to dance which Kate was grateful for. “Your sister is quite a good dancer, Anthony looks like he’s struggling to keep up.”

“Pardon?” Kate’s eyes followed Benedict’s nod towards the dance floor where Anthony and Edwina danced amongst the numerous couples, looking very chummy.

Kate clenched her jaw.

Kate couldn’t exactly break them up. It would be rude and she would never purposely embarrass Edwina.

“You don’t look happy,” Benedict said, smiling slightly as he followed Kate’s furious glare at the dancing couple.

“If you'll excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom. I'll see you sometime this week, Benedict,” Kate said, choosing not to tell him why she wasn’t happy that her angelic baby sister was dancing with his whore of a brother.

Kate had disappeared to the bathroom and then lingered until they finished dancing and parted ways and Kate clung onto Edwina for the rest of the evening. Edwina had brought Kate around to a few tables, introducing her to colleagues and the two sisters had even danced for a bit. It was a fun break from the repetitive small talk.

Kate eventually left Edwina to go home, as her sister was going clubbing with some friends at the gala which Kate had declined, she was dying to go home to see Newton.

Kate stood at the top of the large stone steps that led to the entrance of the museum. She really should have brought a coat, all she had with her was a wrap made of thin material.

She was alone until she noticed a man a few steps down from her, her stomach dropping and fury filled her body as she recognized him. Anthony noticed her before she did and opened his mouth to say something, but she beat him to it.

“No.”

He frowned. “Excuse me?”

“No!”

Anthony stared at her. “Are you broken?”

“Stay away from my sister,” She snapped, wagging her finger accusingly at him. “She has absolutely no interest in you.”

“I think Edwina is fully capable of making her own decisions, don’t you?” He replied smugly, somehow finding this conversation amusing. “She seemed more than happy to dance with me. Excited, even.”

Kate snorted. “I imagine it was out of pity. Edwina is a very nice, good person. Stay away.”

“You’re mental, you know that? You are the most infuriating person I have ever met,” Anthony replied, shaking his head as he glared at her.

“Right back at you,” Kate snapped, wrapping her shawl around her to try shield herself from the freezing cold breeze but it didn’t do much. She walked away from him, really just walking down a few of the museum's steps.

It would be a cold day in hell before Kate would ever allow Anthony Bridgerton to be her brother in law.

“You’re shaking,” Anthony appeared beside her, taking off his jacket and placing it around her shoulders.

She went to protest but she was freezing and her uber had said they’d be here five minutes ago. “Oh. Well, thank you.”

“No argument? Consider me shocked. You’re welcome,” He replied, glancing down at his phone before looking towards the road. “Do you have a lift?”

She chose to be the bigger person and not kick him in the shin. “Yes. My uber is just running late.”

He shook his head. “Come with me. My driver can drop you home.”

She opened her mouth to reply but he cut her off.

“For once in your life could you not argue and just get in the bloody car?” Anthony snapped, letting out a frustrated sigh simultaneously through his nostrils and mouth. He even pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Fine, no need to be so dramatic,” Kate shifted uncomfortably as she cancelled the uber on her phone, which had changed to fifteen minutes anyway, and followed him towards a black range rover that had pulled up on the road.

The car was fancy. Anthony opened the car door for her, closing it behind her as she got in and he walked to the other side. The interior was black leather and there was a little shelf full of snacks and drinks.

“Go ahead,” He nodded towards the snacks, smiling with that amused expression that infuriated her. He always seemed to be laughing at her. “You must be starving.”

Kate narrowed her eyes. “Why would I be starving?”

Anthony took a packet of crisps for himself and only then did Kate take a pack of m&ms, her favourite chocolate and quickly dive right into them. She opened up a bottle of water as well.

“Not everything I say is an accusation, Kate. I noticed that you barely ate all night,” He said, “Except for the dessert.”

“How do you know that?”

He looked flustered, breaking their eye contact and glancing out the tinted window. “Why didn’t you eat?”

She shrugged, “I don’t like fish.”

“Do you want to stop somewhere?”

“No, no. Thank you, but my feet are killing me. I just want to go home.”

He looked at her again, pushing a pack of crisps towards her as he took another for himself. “I would have thought you’d rather be dead than be somewhere like that.”

She took the crisps willingly, hoping her stomach didn’t start groaning for more food now that she was eating. “You’re not wrong, I would rather be dead.”

Anthony snorted. “That makes two of us.”

“But, Edwina needed me so I went. They’re not the worst. Do you have connections with the charity or?”

Anthony nodded. “My mother worked with them a long time ago and she wanted me there tonight, so I went.”

“The things we do for family,” Kate hummed, stretching her hands as she fiddled with them on her lap. Her palms were clammy and she was oddly nervous. She was in a car with Anthony Bridgerton, alone. It wasn’t the worst thing that had happened all evening.

“Your sister is quite successful, isn’t she?” He asked, and Kate was reminded of why he definitely was the worst.

“We’re not talking about my sister. As far as you’re concerned, she does not exist.”

He just smiled. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Kate.”

“How I sleep is absolutely none of your concern,” She snapped, full on glaring at him now. “Edwina is far too young and far too-far too good for you!”

“Oh, really?” He drawled, shrugging indifferently as he took a sip of his water, looking completely unbothered.

“Your reputation precedes you and my sister will have absolutely nothing to do with that,” She countered, the endless pictures and articles of his latest conquests or girls of the week were hard to ignore when they were everywhere.

The smile on his face disappeared and he looked angry. He looked pissed and his flat tone reflected that. “You know absolutely nothing about me.”

“I know enough.”

They both hadn’t noticed the car had come to a stop right outside her flat and it couldn’t have been more perfect timing.

“Thank you for the lift,” Kate said, taking off his jacket and handing it to him, scrambling to escape him and this unpleasant conversation. “Let’s never do it again.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” His tone was colder than usual, and just as she shut the door, the car sped off.

“Asshole,” Kate grumbled, reaching for her keys and letting herself into her flat. What a strange night.

The following morning, Kate woke up to her phone buzzing on the pillow beside her. Newton was lightly snoring on top of the duvet, and Kate groaned as she blindly felt for her phone before she picked it up. It was a Saturday morning, she was meant to be sleeping in.

“Hello?” Kate whispered into her phone, trying to fight fully waking up.

“Kate?”

She sat up slightly. “Edwina? What time is it? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Everything is-you haven’t read the times, have you? The Whistledown gossip column specifically? Check your Whatsapp. I just sent it to you.”

Kate frowned, cursing as the brightness of her phone stung her eyes as she put her sister on speaker and opened her whatsapp messages. “Wha? Edwina, did you wake me up on a Saturday morning to read?”

“You’re going to want to read this.”

Kate clicked on the link to what appeared to be an article. It quickly opened to Lady Whistledown’s popular gossip column in the London Times. Edwina had been mentioned in it numerous times before and the Bridgertons were often featured. Especially Anthony.

Anthony Bridgerton, 34, has been spotted looking quite close with a mysterious brunette. Is the infamous bachelor now taken? He was seen multiple times throughout the night talking to this woman and leaving in the same car at the end of the night. We have confirmed the mysterious brunette is Kate Sheffield, business woman and sister of model Edwina Sheffield. Not his usual type at all. Has the heir to the Bridgerton empire finally been tamed?

Attached below the article was a series of slightly blurred pictures of Anthony and Kate from last night, talking outside the gala and getting into his car. Another was of Edwina and Kate at one of her shows during London fashion week last year.

Beside Edwina, who was wearing a long silk gown that she had walked in earlier that day, Kate looked bland and terrible. They had chosen to put that picture in the London Times.

In the London Times. In London's most popular gossip column.

Of her and Anthony Bridgerton.

Supposedly dating.

Which anyone could see.

“Am I drunk?” She muttered to herself, slightly dazed as she rubbed her eyes and refreshed the page but the same words and pictures remained on her screen, haunting her. Her heart was hammering inside her chest and she could feel herself starting to sweat profusely. Was she having a heart attack?

“Kate? Are you okay? I'm coming over, I'll be there in ten minutes," She half heard her sister’s concerned voice through her phone, but Kate wasn’t really paying attention. She felt like she was in a daze. Her eyes kept scanning over the article again and again.

Kate never replied to her sister.

She just screamed into her pillow.

#bridgerton #my fics #this update took ages but finally have it done!#hope people enjoy :)#kate x anthony #fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #kate sheffield #bridgerton fanfiction #ao3 #benedict bridgerton #modern AU

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lonelyreputation · 4 years

Text

First Time

A/N: Back with some more fluff! I was gonna wait a few weeks to post this, to really tweak it, but I love it too much and it’s so fluffy so I decided to share it now 😌 So please enjoy what I think taking a bath with Shawn for the first time would be like!!

And thank you to everyone who has reblogged my work or said nice words to me 🥺 It really makes me heart flutter and I swear one day I’m gonna print all of the nice words out and put them in a book bc you all are too nice 😪

THANKS A MILLION for all of your support! Reblogs are never expected, but always appreciated!! 🤗💞🌻

REQUEST/PROMPT: Slipping into warm water

Let’s Chat!! | MASTERLIST

Warnings: Two swear words & being naked (but like nothing ~happens…it’s just a bath)

Word Count: 3.9K

Shawn was stressed.

You knew he was pushing his creativity to maximum capacity when he would come back to his apartment with eyes that looked completely drained, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek before retreating his bedroom.

He was currently in the midst of writing and recording his next album. And he was feeling the pressure from his fans, industry executives, and himself to put out an album even better than his self titled record.

But how can I achieve something better than that, he would say with a strained voice, his head buried into his hands, it was nominated for a Grammy.

You tried your best to reassure him; that his fans, the executives, and you would love whatever he put out if he had his heart and soul in it. You had no idea what the woes of fame did to a person’s self-esteem and would never know the pressure of releasing a record. But you knew that Shawn was a people pleaser. He wanted to make everyone happy even if it came at his expense.

At a loss for not knowing what to do to cheer him up, you called Aaliyah.

“He hasn’t done it in a while…” her tone was thoughtful, but then she backtracked, “But I dunno if he would want me to tell you.”

“A, please,” you begged your boyfriend’s younger sister as you stretched out on the couch, “I’m looking for anything. He’s so stressed, he’s barely eating the salad that I make sure he takes with him before he leaves.”

She rushed out her sentence in one breath, “Helikestotakebaths.”

You sat up, “He what?”

With your question, Aaliyah let out a sigh and repeated herself more slowly this time, “He likes to take…baths.”

“A bath?”

There was hesitancy on the other end before adding in an important detail, “Sometimes with…bubbles.”

“Oh?”

“And maybe,” her voice was barely above a whisper, “some candles.”

A small smile graced your lips, your boyfriend surprised you more and more everyday, “Really?”

“You have to swear to me you won’t tell him I told you,” Aaliyah said in an assertive tone, “He cannot know I told you.”

You nodded your head with a smile on your face, you were happy to have gotten something to help Shawn de-stress, “Swear on my life––You’re the best, A.”

After catching up with Aaliyah and hearing what she’s been up to the past few weeks, she had to go and do some chores she’d been procrastinating for a few days. You bid her goodbye, thanking her again for her help and promising her again to not tell her brother that she let his secret slip.

You hung up and looked at the time. Three o’clock. You had an hour or so before Shawn was due back so you hopped off the couch and made your way to the master bathroom. With your hands on your hips, you looked at the tub with a questioning gaze. Not once had you ever thought that Shawn was someone who was into baths. You didn’t even think he had touched the faucet of the big white tub.

But you were trusting Aaliyah with your life so you got to work.

First, you checked the cabinets under the sink for any bubble bath supplies. No luck. Next, you checked the medicine cabinet for anything. Rummaging through extra bottles of shampoo, soap, cologne…you were about to give up, but there was no other place Shawn would keep anything bathroom related. He was very particular with how he organized his apartment. Group like things together, Shawn tsked you when he helped you move into your new apartment, that way things will never get lost.

He was right; grouping like things together did make it easier to find certain things when you thought they were misplaced. And you thanked the heavens above when you knelt down on the ground, pushing a few empty cardboard boxes aside, to find a little plastic basket with some bubble bath supplies.

You made a mental note to text Aaliyah another thank you.

Dragging out the basket, you looked in and saw that the bubbles he had weren’t anything expensive. Just a regular run of the mill brand name bubbles. Usually Shawn liked to splurge on some stuff if he never got the chance to do it often, and with Aaliyah saying he never took baths often, it made you wonder what was holding him back from buying really nice bubbles. And in the basket were also two lavender scented candles.

You took the candles out immediately and found some matches hidden in the basket as well. Candles could burn for a long time and it was better to get a head start on those than forget them later on.

With the scent of lavender filling up the room, you took your phone out and texted Shawn: Any idea when you’ll be back? :)

You didn’t want to run the bath too early, fearing that the water would get cold before he even got back to his place.

You unlocked your phone when it buzzed in your hand: Just leaving now. So tired. Be home in twenty? Something like that.

Your heart dropped when you read his message. So tired. Maybe he wouldn’t be up for a bath? Maybe he just wanted to go to bed?

No, you told yourself, he’s been stressed and unhappy and deserves something relaxing.

You waited five minutes before opening up the Find My Friends app and clicked on Shawn’s name to track his location. You saw his little circle of a contact picture moving down a street, the app telling you he was fifteen minutes away.

Game time, you hyped yourself up as you turned on the faucet to the bath. You ran your hand under the water until it was at a slightly hotter temperature than comfortable. You figured that if you ran the water fairly hot right now, it would be at a comfortably warm temperature by the time Shawn got back. So you put the plug in the drain and watched the tub slowly fill up with water. When it was a quarter of the way full, you got the bottle of bubbles and squeezed only a little bit in. You pampered yourself with a bubble bath one time and accidentally put in too many bubbles which ended up being disastrous.

And you didn’t want this to be disastrous for Shawn. It was supposed to be relaxing. And Lord knows he wouldn’t be relaxed if you flooded his bathroom.

Once the bath was filled to the appropriate height, you turned the faucet off. Admiring your work, you didn’t hear the front door open.

“Y/n?”

Shawn’s voice rang through his apartment as butterflies fluttered throughout your stomach. You hurriedly exited his bathroom, walked through his bedroom and greeted him in the kitchen.

You walked in with a glowing smile on your face, a skip in your step, but when you saw him sitting on one of the barstools, arms resting on the island with his head buried deep, your smile dropped.

Cautiously, you walked up behind him and slid your arms up his back and began to softly rub his shoulders. He looked absolutely drained and it broke your heart. Sure, you knew artist’s liked to pour their everything into creating music, but this was borderline insane.

You pressed a soft kiss to the back of his neck, not exactly knowing what to say. If you asked him about the studio, he would say something that would belittle himself for not writing or singing well enough. If you asked how he felt, he would just tell you that he felt tired.

But luckily you didn’t have to say anything. With his head still tucked away, he let out a low hum, “Missed you.”

The only thing you concentrated on was how exhausted he sounded.

“Missed you too,” you brought your hands to wrap around his torso, leaning forward and hugging him from behind, “Long day?”

You felt his back release a deep deep sigh, “The longest.” You were second guessing the bath that was drawn. He sounded like all he wanted to do was sleep for the next ten years, “Just wanna be with you.”

And then an idea struck your mind.

The bath was originally meant to just only be for Shawn. You wanted him to have time for himself, something he rarely had nowadays, but with his confession of wanting to be with you…

You unwound your arms from him and brought your arms to pull him up by his shoulders. With a groan, he sat up all the way, but his eyes were still closed, “I really just wanna sleep––“

“Come with me,” you interrupted him as you took his hands and helped him up from the bar stool. He followed you, but with slumped shoulders and eyes barely open. He paused in the middle of his bedroom, the arm that connected your hand that held his, over stretching as you kept walking.

He pulled his eyebrows together, “Sleep?”

You let out a small laugh, he sounded like a toddler, speaking only the bare minimum. Shaking your head you tugged his hand, “I have one small thing for you before we go to sleep.”

“But, Y/n––“

“Trust me.”

He continued to stay put in the middle of his room. He glanced back at his bed, the sheets tempting him to crawl under and pass out. But then he looked at you, your eyes pleading with him to follow you. He gave into your eyes; he always did.

You tugged on his hand once more before he trailed behind you. You smiled at the smell of lavender that was more prevalent now than it was when you first lit the candles up. The bathroom lights were dimmed, but when you looked over your shoulder, you saw Shawn looking at the bath, then at you, at the candles, and back at you.

“What is––Did you do this?”

Turning your body to face him you gave his hand a slight squeeze as you stepped forward to him, toes touching, “You’ve been so stressed and I thought this might help relax you.”

His eyes continued to dart between the bath, the candles, and you, “But this––the bath––For me?”

You nodded your head with a shrug of your shoulders, “I wanted to do something nice,” his eyes were now intensely staring into your own, if you didn’t know him like the back of your hand, the stare would’ve intimidated you. But his eyes were just concentrating; they were concentrating on you and you saw the love in them.

“And I thought…” Your eyes fell from his momentarily, suddenly growing shy about your next request, “Maybe…We could like go in…Together?”

He was silent.

It was not the response you were expecting and your stomach dropped, “Never mind,” you waved your free hand in the air, “I made the bath for you so you should enjoy it––You haven’t had any space to yourself, so you–––“

“God, yes,” Shawn’s eyes closed for the second time tonight, but they weren’t closed out of exhaustion, they were closed in pure bliss as he imagined a bath with you, “Please come in the bath.”

Your cheeks heated up as you rocked back on your heels, “Okay.”

You and Shawn had never taken a bath together; mainly for the reason that you didn’t know he took baths. And it seemed like you were crossing a line into uncharted territory. Sure, you’ve shared intimate moments together, seen each other naked, and shared your strongest fears with each other. But there was something about taking a bath with Shawn that seemed even more intimate than all of those combined.

Shawn let go of your hand as he clutched the hem of his shirt, crossing his forearms before peeling the shirt over his head. You slowly peeled your socks off, one by one, then stripped yourself of your leggings.

He folded his shirt and set it on the ground before his hands trailed down to the button on his jeans. You watched his careful fingers undo the button and slowly unzip the zipper of his jeans. He looked up at you through his curls, catching you staring at him, and smiled at you before pulling his jeans down past his thighs, wiggling them off his calves.

Much like his shirt, he folded his pants and set them aside.

Clad in just his underwear, he stepped forward in front of you, toes touching toes. You were scared and you didn’t know why. It’s just Shawn, you scolded yourself, there’s no need to feel scared. The more you two just stood in front of each other in silence, you realized that the feeling in the pit of your stomach wasn’t fear, it was nerves. You were nervous to strip off another level of yourself and become even more vulnerable with him.

He played with the hem of your shirt, eyes peering into yours silently asking if it was alright to take it off. You lifted your arms over your head instead of offering him a verbal response. He slipped your shirt over your head, kissed your cheek softly when it was off, folded it up, and placed it with his clothes.

Both of you stood in your underwear, waiting to see each other’s next move. Shawn seemed to grasp the emotion behind taking a bath––it was such a simple way of displaying affection––but neither one of you had done this before. Neither one of you had taken a bath with any of your previous significant other’s. It would be a first time for something that the two of you would share together.

Staring deep into your eyes, Shawn slowly brought his hands to his underwear and pulled them down his legs. Your eyes never left his as he shimmied out of them, not bothering to pick them up and fold them like his other articles of clothing.

“If you…” he started off slowly, “If you don’t want me to look or like…aren’t comfortable, you don’t have to come in,” He took your hand and loosely held it between your bodies, “You can go to bed or…Or you can just sit on the ledge,” he gave your hand a squeeze, “I just really missed you today.”

You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know if you were capable of saying anything. You were mesmerized with the carefulness of his tone, how he had just come from a hard day at work, but he wanted you to feel comfortable. You didn’t think you could love him anymore than you did in this moment.

With one last squeeze, he released your hand as he made his way toward the white bathtub. Your back was facing him, but you knew his movements too well that you could picture him; reaching the tips of his fingers in to test the warmth of the water before slowly sinking a foot in. You heard the water move, you guessed that he was standing in the tub now, getting used to the water before he fully sank into the heat.

You knew he was fully submerged when you heard him let out a groan. You glanced over your shoulder and saw his knees bent, limbs too long to fit fully inside the tub, as he rested his head on the back of the tub with his eyes shut tight.

With a deep breath, you reached behind your back to unclasp your bra, letting it fall from your shoulders. You let your shoulders fall as you took another deep breath, carefully sliding your underwear down over your thighs, past your calves, and slightly bent down to unhook them from your feet. And unlike Shawn, you picked up both of your underwear from the floor, and neatly folded them, placing them next to the clothes he had folded.

The bathroom air felt cold around your body, but the eyes you felt on your back lit your insides on fire.

Turning toward the tub slowly, you brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, and saw Shawn staring into your eyes. Any other boy, you thought, any other boy would be trailing his eyes all over your body. But not Shawn, a shy smile creeped up on your lips; Not Shawn.

Your eyes stayed connected all throughout the few steps you took to the tub, the nerves still bubbling in your stomach. But with the nerves came love. With love came adoration. And with adoration came the boy who was sitting in the tub, patiently waiting for you to join him.

Shawn lifted his arm from the confines of the water and held it out to you. With water droplets falling from his arm, you took hold of his hand, not even testing the water temperature before you stepped in one foot at a time. You trusted that if Shawn was fine with the temperature, then you wouldn’t have a problem with it.

You lowered yourself into the bubbles, the heat of the water loosening up every tense muscle you didn’t know existed, as you sat on the opposite side of the tub from Shawn. With your body submerged up to your collar bones, the cold porcelain on your back was a soothing contrast from the heat of the water.

Your eyes were closed as you enjoyed unwinding in the tub. While you made the bath for Shawn, you were glad you decided to join. Under the water, you felt the toes of his right foot glide up and down your calf. You opened your eyes to see him with a lazy half smile, “Will you come here?”

You bit your lip to conceal a grin, but nodded, placing both hands on the ledges of the tub. Your chest was covered with bubbles, but they were slowly trickling off your body, exposing your breasts to Shawn. But like the whole night, Shawn’s eyes were looking into his favorite color; your eyes.

Moving forward, you twisted yourself to turn around, your back facing him, as he brought a hand up to grip your thigh, slowly lowering yourself down on his lap. You leaned back on his chest as the water began to still, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Thank you.”

It was just you and Shawn in the bathroom, back pressed against his chest, but he still whispered. The thank you he whispered held more meaning than those two words. He was saying I’m thankful for you, I’m lucky to have you in my life, I’m in love with you.

You closed your eyes as his arms rounded your waist and you kissed his neck; suddenly hyper aware of everything around you. You felt the hair on his legs brush up against yours, smelled the lavender wafting through the air, heard the single droplets of water that fell from the spout echo in the tub, and saw the love Shawn held for you in his eyes.

“I wrote a song about you today,” Shawn piped up, voice small and unaware of how you were going to react.

“Really?”

His statement piqued your interest, he was usually closed lipped about what went on during his studio sessions. You knew some musicians had weird superstitions, and you never pried Shawn on information he didn’t want to share with you regarding his album. And you never took it to heart, knowing that you would still get to hear the finished cut of the album before the general public.

Shawn sunk further into the tub, taking you with him, “I’ve written lots of songs about you,” he shared. You turned your face up to look at him better. You were met with his sharp jawline, his eyes dreamily facing forward as he smiled at the melody he wrote for you that played in his head, “Why I’ve been so tired.”

“Oh?” You said it playfully, a smirk toying at your lips, “Loving me is tiring?”

Shawn squeezed your hips under the water, “You know what I mean,” he finally looked down at you, “Just have so many feelings about you running through my head all the time.”

You let out a small laugh, “Good to know.”

“You’re on my mind all hours of the day,” again even though you were alone, he whispered his words softly, as if exchanging a secret, “Can’t get enough of you.”

Shawn pressed a kiss as soft as his words to your growing smile. You were having a hard time kissing him back, so overcome with elation, that you never thought your smile would disappear.

Once he stopped trying to pry kisses from you, he knew he would get a good kiss before you headed to bed, he rested his head on top of yours, “This is just what I needed,” he let out his millionth sigh of the night, “I love baths.”

You smiled in satisfaction, “That’s what I’ve heard.”

You noticed the loss of contact when Shawn picked his head up from yours. He looked down at you with a questioning stare, “Heard? Who told you?”

Shit.

“I uh––Read it in one of your interviews,” You stammered, not wanting to break your trust with Aaliyah. While you loved Shawn and would choose his side no matter what, you made a promise to his sister that you intended to keep, “GQ.”

Shawn shook his head, a smirk growing more and more on his lips, “Never discussed taking baths with GQ.”

“Billboard?” His smirk widened with another wrong answer, “Variety? Rolling Stone––“

“Aaliyah told you, didn’t she?”

You rapidly shook your head, but you felt your eyes widen, blowing your cover. But you still held out your promise to Aaliyah and denied his accusations, “Haven’t talked to her in a while, I should probably give her a call, you know? See how school’s going for her, see if she needs any boy advice–––“

“First off,” Shawn cut you off, “No to giving her boy advice. She’s too young––“

“It’s how we bond!” Your laugh caused the water to ripple, “It’s not like I haven’t given it to her before.”

“That’s a conversation for a different time,” he shot you a fake glare, before his smirk reappeared and a mischievous glint twinkled in his eyes, “She’s the only person who knows I like baths when I’m stressed.”

You didn’t know how you could argue with that. No amount of bullshitting could get you out of the corner you backed yourself into. With a sigh, you lifted your back off his chest and twisted your body to face him, “I wanted to do something for you,” you brought your hand up to cup his face, he leaned into your touch, “You were getting so lost in yourself and I couldn’t think of anything. So I called her up.”

Shawn nodded against your palm, turning his head to press a gentle kiss on the inside of your hand, “I really do appreciate this––you. This is the best thing to happen to me all week. Thank you.”

You smiled at him before fitting yourself back up against his chest. You stayed in the water with him until your fingers pruned up and the water went cold.

#here's it the fluff #so 😊 much 😊 fluff 😊#so much compassion and kindness sdkfjsdkf #but like…I bet he's really sweet when taking a bath #does he take baths???#QUESTION TIME: is Shawn a bath or shower person???#what do you think his preferences is???#and yes im just as curious about this as I am with his wine preference #but I am DEFINITELY more interested in his wine preference #anyway enough rambling #I hope you all enjoy this!!! let me know your thoughts!!!!#thanks!!! love you all to bites!!! thanks a million!!!!#*bits omg I hate autocorrect #Shawn mendes #Shawn Mendes x y/n #Shawn mende fanfic #Shawn Mendes fan fiction #Shawn Mendes fan fic #Shawn Mendes fanfiction #Shawn Mendes ff #Shawn Mendes imagine #Shawn Mendes one shot #Shawn Mendes blurb #Shawn Mendes x reader #Shawn Mendes imagines #Shawn Mendes fanfictions #Shawn Mendes blurbs #Shawn Mendes one shots #Shawn Mendes oneshot #Shawn Mendes oneshots

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jumoonjae · 3 years

Text

Right Through the Heart: Chapter 1

Pairings: Juyeon X Reader X Sunwoo

Genre: Action

Warnings: Violence

Word Count: 5408 Words

A/N: I've been working on this one for three months now, been stealing time between my work and home to do researches and stuffs. I was considering making this as a one shot at first, but since its too long and i'm still half way through it, i decided to break it into few parts. So here we go, my first 2021 fic. I hope you enjoy reading it.

Disclaimer: Image are not mine, credit to owner.

The sound of boisterous chattering and a series of screams and holler slowly awaking you from unconsciousness that soon after also awakening your every sense as you starting to feel the throbbing pain from the back of your head and the growing pain on your shoulder. With a painful grunt, you lift your head up to see your tied up hand with a squinted eyes as the old spotlight that was use to hang your body shine awfully bright on you. Your shoulder stretched upward painfully and your feet dangling a few feet from the ground, body swaying even with the slightest movement you made. You look around slowly to see the surrounding only to find yourself being hanged in the middle of a old, wrecked school gym, to your left there were a group of men, all armed playing cards, smoking and one of them notice your movement making you let out a sigh. You could see three of them approaching you from your peripheral view but didn’t bother to look back up because of the sore from your shoulder.

“Good morning sleepy head.” A voice rings clear and annoyingly close inside your ear and echoes around the empty gym silencing every soul inside the room. You force yourself to turn your head slowly towards him just to look at your opponent before planning anything. His assault riffle that was clutched loosely to his chest caught your attention first then his masked face, you could see his eyes scanning you and there’s two men that look quite like him standing behind him. You didn’t even bother to say anything to him but let your head hang low, chin touching your chest.

“I’m not the type of wasting my or your time. So i will ask and you will answer.” He commanded while his men starting to holler, whistling but you still didn’t respond to him, looking down as your focus was on the pain on your shoulder and the back of your head only. But then a sudden brutal impact hit your stomach making you let out a cry and it churns when your body suddenly falls to the ground falling knee first on the cold hard wooden floor, then the old spotlight came crashing down right in front of your eyes just a few inch from you and the broken pieces splatter around with some of it manage to hit you making you flinch slightly. Like it was a show, the men are all cheering and some are laughing at you. But from all the pain on your lower body, you could finally bring your sore shoulder down in relief by clutching the fresh sore on your stomach.

“Answer me!” He yelled. “don’t ever think that will go easy on a woman like you.” He took a few step towards to you before you feel a cold hard metal nudging the side of your head. You look up to him through your lashes and he nudge your head to make you back down again but you didn’t even move or look away making him wavered and you noticed.

“Tell me where they locked my people.” He nudge your head with every words that just triggered something bad inside of you and you had to suck a sharp breath just to keep it within you.

“We don’t keep criminal locked up. The prison is too crowded.” You said looking into their eyes one by one as a cunning smirk grows on your face. “We kill them.”

“Don’t play with me, you law people always keep them locked waiting for the right time for any negotiation for money and bribery and shits. You corrupted organization.” he nudge your head again making you clenched your jaw hard.

“You’re not wrong.” You said with a sly smile. “But what you’re dealing with right now is not law. You’ve crossed the line that law had drawn and do you know what will happen when you crossed that line?” You taunt him by looking deep into his eyes without blinking.

“You’re considered dead.” And as if your last word is a cue, the main door explode and a series of fire gun erupted not far from where you were. you duck down covering your head using your tied hands before rolling to the side to take cover with anything from the flying bullets. You were deaf for a while and when your hearing came back together with a piercing white noise inside your head, you shut your eyes tight and screams until the noise dissipate.

“Y/N!” Sunwoo called and you look up to him who was running to you while the other taking down every single enemy inside the gym.

“You’re okay.” He kneeled beside you and pull you by the arm helping you up.

“You okay Y/N?” Changmin asked as soon as you got up while holding his gunpoint to one of the subject that was still alive, the one that been interrogating you earlier. Without his mask you recognize him from the picture during the briefing before the mission and you nod to Changmin as a confirmation that you got the right person. You then turn to see Eric and Haknyeon who was looking at you concerned, but you just raise your tied up hand and show them your both thumb making them to smile in relief.

“Sorry.” Sunwoo almost yelled knowing your hearing still affected. He cut the rope on your wrist before checking for any wound on your body.

“Except for you almost blew me up, im fine.” You said yelling to him, just because you couldn’t hear yourself clearly while dusting your cargo pants as your watch them questioned the three subject before you and Sunwoo walk out through the mess to the outside where you were greeted by the whole back up team.

“Hey sniper.” Chan greeted you and you give him a small wave, smiling at him who was carrying a small device that you recognize as a bomb, he stop right next to you eyeing you up and down looking for any injuries.

“I’m fine Chan. Thank you.” You tap his arm and he gave you his charming smile before jogs inside to plant the bomb.

“Does the bomb necessary earlier?” you asked regarding to the first bomb which only made Sunwoo to chuckle before scratching the back of his head while looking at you apologetically.

“we were outnumbered.” He said. “And those three are enough for information.” He paused looking back at you to make sure you’re really alright before continuing,

“We need to take this place down anyway.” He said stopping right at the entrance where his truck were parked. You look up to see the air force team still roams around the school to search for more threat before you heard three shots fired indicating that your mission were done.

“Clear.” Changmin’s voice buzzed from the com on Sunwoo’s shoulder.

“C4 ready. Everyone clear out.” He commanded signaling the chopper to get down.

“That’s your ride.” Sunwoo said and you look at him questioningly.

“Are you going to the date looking like that?” and it finally hit you like a truck.

“Holy shit. What time is it?”

“7.48PM. Better late than never.” He said giving you a pat on the back when the ladder from the chopper fall just right in front of you.

“Eric bought the dress himself. Its quite small but it’ll do.” He shrugged and you thanked him climbing up to the chopper. “Be nice Y/N.”

You tap your toe impatiently crossing your arm over your chest as the elevator were moving almost at a imperceptible speed. You look down to your watch wriggling your wrist to place your watch right on the blisters from the rope earlier and heaved a long sigh after realizing that you almost an hour late. You really should have just go down using the line from the helicopter instead of the elevator.

A buzz from inside of your clutch stopping you from tapping your feet and you fish out your phone from inside looking at the caller id before swiping the green icon up and cup it on your left ear.

“Hey, Y/N are you there yet?” Eric asked from another line making you scowl at his eagerness.

“They just dropped me off two minutes ago Eric and the elevator in this building is really slow.” You said annoyingly and when the moving box dinged, stopping, which you grunt to it before stepping to the corner back to make room whoever that come in later.

“Well at least you got great reception inside it.” He said trying to make you laugh but you didn’t and when the elevator door opens, a tall guy in a black suit enters. you spare him a quick glance before bowing slightly when he did.

“Y/N remember, order just salad and red wines.”

“Why does it matter what i eat. Its not that I’m going to make him pay for it.”

“Are you really going to eat like a pig on your first date?”

“Look, this is not a date I remind you. I just going to negotiate with him and make him agree to pretend to be my partner only for the wedding.”

“Just for the sake of me please. He’s my neighbor.”

“Your neighbor? Its too late Eric, I am forty minute late and its already a bad first impression.” You look up when the elevator dinged again and make your way out to the restaurant with your phone still on your ear.

“Any reservation?” the receptionist ask, but before you could answer him, you heard a voice talking from inside the restaurant. A tall man, quite good looking, ranting, looking like he was drunk.

“I will soon to be the heir of my father’s company.” He said with a cocky smirk plastered on his face, head leaned a little to the table next to him, invading a couples privacy, boasting, face filled with pride while the couple does not look pleased at all.

“I am a gentleman even my date is almost an hour late, i am still here waiting for her.” You let out a gagging face when he said the word before placing your phone back to your ears.

“Eric what was the guy name again?” you ask.

“Kim Younghoon.”

“I am Kim Younghoon.”

“No shit.” You were dazed for a while, the guy with the prince syndrome was your date and how in the world you’re going to convince him to pretend to be your partner. You stared at him still in daze as your phone fall to your neck trying to think of anything, maybe a plan b. But then his eyes meet yours making you flinch. As much as you take pride in everything and how good you are in handling men, this is not what you signed for, you can’t just flipped him off just to escape.

You took a few step back when he stand up, looking at you like he figured something out, like he caught you red handed causing your heart to pound with his boldness, his eye contact. Nothing else present inside of your mind other than to run away like a coward until you feel a hand grabbing your shoulder.

“Is that your date?” You heard a voice from behind you, soft, deep and alluring making you turn your body back to face him. It was the same man from the elevator. He was looking down at you then inside the restaurant where his orbs moves like he was watching at someone’s movement

“He’s coming. Play along.” He whispered snaking his hand around your waist pulling you closer as he’s showing his card, probably a membership some sort of card and the receptionist usher you both to one of the table near the window walking past Kim Younghoon who was about to ask something with his pointer finger out like he was about to state a matter of fact. But you both just brush past him.

“I owe you.” You said looking back to the guy who was still bragging about his status and starting to cause a commotion before few waiter had to usher him out.

“I feel bad though.” You heaved turning your body back facing the man who just saved you.

“You can still catch him.” He lean back still smiling and you wince to the thought of being around someone like that.

“He is in good hands now.” You nod convincing him and he let out a laugh.

“So.” He starts, leaning forward clasping his both hands on top of the table looking at you with the smile that seems to never fade even for a moment. “I heard you’re looking for partner to a wedding.” You raise your eyebrow tilting your head.

“You’ve been listening.” You said straighten your body to sit properly facing him.

“Couldn’t help it.” He chuckled and you side eyed him with a smile shaking your head looking anywhere else avoiding eye contact. “So who’s wedding is it?” He ask again

“Its my cousin.” You breathed out and lean back as you eyed a waitress came filling his glass, its hard not to notice how she was smitten by the guy that was sitting right in front of you, constantly stealing a glance here and then before walking to your side with a professional smile before filling yours. you nod to her as a gratitude while looking to the man himself who is now looking at you. You hold his stare for a little longer, letting yourself lost in his strong yet soft gaze that seems to shake everything within you.

“So tell me about your cousin.” He said without breaking the eye contact while leaning forward resting his both elbow on the table.

“Seems like he’s more interesting than i am.” You teased taking a sip of your wine pouting playfully right after.

“I’m afraid if i ask about you first i might scare you away.”

“Oh it takes a lot to scare me off-” you stop leaving your sentence hanging and tilt your head a little to the side, brow twitching with a playful smirk trying to read him whose expression never change even the slightest. You were trying to figure him out like any other men you’ve been sitting with you in the same scenario only the other was your mission to dig their secrets while this one right here perks your interest itself.

“So-” He dragged his words, eyes wavered looking for the right word or right question to ask making you scoff softly before letting out a soft smile, he was an easy one to read.

“You look like you had broke a couple of hearts, but I don’t think you even know how to flirt. Am i right?” you ask in between chuckle and he raise his both hand in defeat with his smile before settles back to staring at you.

“I just got out from the marine.” He started and your eyebrow twitch again filled with interest.

“are you completing your military service?”

“No, more like I’m a coast guard.” He said and your mouth formed an ‘o' while nodding to the information. No wonder he looked a little stiff, you thought to yourself.

“So getting back on the shores is quite a challenge. being around new people and like being in a whole new place. its like starting all over again.” He said with a troubled expression and it tug some strings from inside of you. But instead of comforting him, you try to light his mood a little.

“I see. So am I the first person to have dinner with you?”

“Yeah.” He smiled biting his lips which you mirrored right away gnawing your own lower lip. You were glad that he’s an easy one to distract and somehow my making him smile, you feel at ease.

“So what should i ask?” He ask you making you let your head fall back as a laugh erupted from you seeing how innocent he was.

“You can ask anything. Or maybe start exchanging our name.”

“Oh right. I’m Juyeon. Lee Juyeon.” He held out his hand to you over the table and you shake his hand telling him your name.

The night went off with three course meal and exchanging a bit information about yourself carefully not to spill your secrets while he telling you about his life in marine.

“Aren’t you lonely?” You ask him after wiping your lips and let the waitress take away the last plate away. “I mean living on a ship in the middle of the sea.”

“Sometimes.” He smile. “But loneliness became a friend to me when i couldn’t sleep at night. I was so used to it that getting back in city make me feel so lost and quite bothered by the sound.” He chuckled before pausing, looking down like he was thinking about something. “I feel like a stranger, a foreigner in my own home.” He said with a forced smile and in that moment you want nothing other than to protect him and stay as long as you could with him by his side knowing how hard to cope back into the civilization after being isolated for so long from the outside world. Even now, you still had a hard time seeing stranger or even engage a small talk. Then you realize how easy every words came out from your mouth when you were with him all night, which you decided to be his friend.

“You want me to show you around?” you offered and his face light up brighter than before making your stomach to churn at the sight.

“If you don’t mind.” He beamed brightly and you look at your watch which shows that you’ve been sitting with him for almost two hours.

“We can walk a little.” You said and he raise his hand to call the waitress. You took your purse which he beat you to it by handing the waitress his black card.

“Just let me thank you for being my first friend.” He said and you smile to him

“I’ll treat you for tteokbokki later on. I’m sure you haven’t had that for a while.”

“But we just ate.”

“Really? That’s enough for you?” You scoffed and he just chuckled shaking his head.

“Juyeon, have you done settling in?” Lt. General Lee asked as soon as Juyeon came in into his office.

“Almost, I got a help from a friend.” He answered as a small smile creep as soon as the image of you appeared inside his mind.

“Ah, I see you’ve made friend.” Lt. General Lee smile and gestured him to sit on the leather couch in the middle of his large office while he took the one right across from Juyeon.

“Don’t you think its too early for me to replace you?” Juyeon asked and the older man stop mid sitting before chuckling to Juyeon’s words.

“Straight to the point aren’t we.” Lt. General Lee lean back on the leather couch looking at his own son. He was actually expecting that exact answer from him, and he know he will be having a hard time to convince him,

“six year being on the sea and three year commanding your own ship is more than enough Juyeon.” he added and Juyeon shake his head to it.

“Commanding my own ship is a whole lot different from things in here dad. Just let me start from the bottom and work my own way up to earn your place rather than sitting there just because i am your son. I don’t like that and I don’t think people will respect me for that.” The older man only smile to his son’s words for knowing well how honest he is with everything. But the thoughts of the ugly side of the law made him feel nothing but worries for his son. He realize that he need to trust Juyeon capability to keep himself safe. only for now, until he could find a way to protect Juyeon.

“I know you would say that. That is why I’m placing you with Colonel Kim. You can go report yourself to him now Captain.”

“I’ll see you around dad.”

“Hey you.” You coos as soon as the door to Juyeon’s apartment open revealing the man himself who greet you back with the brightest smile that turn his eyes into a crescent moon making you feel warmth just at the sight.

“Hey.” He greet back glancing back to his apartment then back to you and you could heard the sound of cutleries while a smell of home cook food manage to escape from inside of his apartment and seep into your nose.

“Bad time?” you asked before he shake his head.

“Not really.” He said with a smile slowly growing on his face with an expression like he had thought of something. “My parent came. You should join us for dinner.” He said by grabbing your arm which you dodge to it with an awkward laugh.

“I shouln’t interrupt your family time.” You smile sheepishly to him pushing a bag with potted plant inside of it to his chest but he manage you get a grip of your wrist with a playful smile.

“Who is it honey?” You heard a soft voice that belongs to a woman before she came into view and saw you over Juyeon’s shoulder that light up her face instantly as soon as she saw you anf Juyeon stepped aside to let the woman to see you which you greet her back with a deep bow.

“Who is this lovely lady Juyeon?”

“This is the one that been helping me settling in mom.” He place his hand on your back before softly push you into his apartment while you try to glue your feet to the ground trying not to move.

“Oh, you must be Y/N. Come in, we just about to have dinner.”

“No Mrs Lee its fine.” You decline politely trying to back off, but Juyeon’s hand still holding your back stopping you from moving. “I was just passing by. I wouldn’t want to be a nuisance.”

“Nonsense.” She walks towards you and softly pull your hand leaving you no choice but to comply. You look back to Juyeon with a frown but he just followed suit with a smile.

“His dad decided to cook tonight just for this special occasion that Juyeon had permanently transferred to the head quarters.” She beamed eagerly looking back and forth between you and the dinner table where you saw a tall man who was preparing something on the kitchen counter. His back facing yours

“We have a guest?” He ask without looking away from whatever he was doing while Juyeon were ushering you to the dinner table that you both had bickered over the darker shade or just white, but you won the fight and he end up having an edgy black wooden dinner table that fit well with the white with black and grey streak ceramic floor.

"I told you it fit well with the floor. You just need to add more lighting over it." You nag again making scoff rolling his eyes.

"Yeah whatever Y/N." He said making you giggle before his mom's voice breaking the small moment between both of you.

“Yes honey, its Y/N, the one Juyeon been telling us about.” She said and you watch as Juyeon making his way to his father to help leaving you a little restless sitting on the chair while the other were busy. You decided to stand up and help too but the sound of your chair screeched against the floor made his father to turn back and you stop when you lock gaze with the awfully familiar face. You notice that he was taken aback too by your presence until Juyeon turn his head to look back at your direction and you had to clear your throat pretending to look away and sit back down awkwardly before standing up again when his mother came with the food giving you a good excuse not to squirm nervously on your seat.

The dinner seems to weighted by the silence which the tense was only felt by you and Juyeon’s father who keep glancing at you here and there while Juyeon and his mom was being oblivious and keep talking about random thing which you couldn’t even process when you’re being held under the keen eyes of his father.

“So, what do you do for a living Y/N?” His mom suddenly ask making you stop chewing for a second before looking at her, then to both men.

“I uh, I’m a archaeologist.” The lies slip off from your tongue just like an air, and you notice how Mr Lee spare you a glance for a moment before getting back on his meal silently.

“Really?” Juyeon said appalled from the new information which cause his mom to look at him questioningly.

“You didn’t know?” She asked and he shake his head smiling sheepishly scratching the back of his neck for missing the most basic information about you even after spending a few days together.

“I don’t actually like to talk about my work. Its kind of boring.” You added which his mom nod to it before you too getting back to your meal and let both mother and son talk about various things mostly about their distant family and Mrs Lee always try to include you into the conversation just so you wont feel left out which you silently thankful for.

“Where’s you parents now Y/N? Do they live far?” You heart pounded one beat harder at the sudden question that you had to clear your throat to cover whatever expression that was about to show on your face. It was a simple question and it never matter to you since no one ever asked. But it sounds so different when someone finally did.

“I’m an orphan.” You said shifting your head to face Mrs Lee, but your eyes wander elsewhere because you didn’t want to see any of their expression. You didn’t want to see pity from them even how strong the sympathy radiates from across the table.

“I’m so sorry.”

“No its really fine. I still have my cousins though.”

“The one that going to get married next week right Y/N?” Juyeon added trying to light up the atmosphere again and you nod with a smile.

“Thank you so much for the dinner Mrs Lee. I had a great time.” You said after helping Mrs Lee with the dishes while Juyeon and his father already getting cozy on the couch with beers in hand having a small conversation.

“Are you leaving already honey?” His mom ask touching your shoulder gently and you smile while nodding to her. “Sorry about his father, he don’t really talk much during dinner.” She adds again and you just smile to her words.

“You can stay a little longer you know.” She offered.

“Thank you Mrs Lee but i should let you spend more time with him since he just got back.”

“Alright then, but let him walk you to you car at least.” She caressed your head with the most genuine smile that almost break your heart for lying to her almost about everything the whole night.

“Sorry about my parents.”

“Why? They’re great.” You said

“Really? My dad always scares my friends off.”

“I can see that,” you smiled looking straight to the elevator door which is almost your everyday view since you’ve been helping him moving in and arrange things inside his new apartment.

“I kind of feel bad thought.” He said as you both got into the elevator.

“I don’t know much about you. I guess i didn’t ask the right questions and keep missing the basic small information about you.”

“Why does it matter?”

“We’re friends aren’t we? Friend shares thing with each other.”

“Right.”

“I will take this as a coincidence now Y/N. Since I know you have nothing against me in particular.” Lt. General Lee voice sounds much deeper and more distant than any other day when he was briefing out your mission for your team. Even the way he stand back facing you while looking out through the glass window to the base where a few chopper and vehicle were parked and his soldier walking around doing their thing had turn the atmosphere heavier in the early morning.

“I promise he will not hear a word from me anymore sir.” Was the only thing you could offer him at the moment, the only thing to keep the truce between you and him.

“That is what first came into my mind as soon as I saw you last night Y/N.”

“I understand that sir.” You said without looking away from the back of his neck showing how determined you are in keeping your words. But he just let out a soft scoff.

“I had give it a long thought last night and thinking maybe i should try to look or think about it from a different perspective. Maybe you met him for a reason Y/N. Just like how I met you.His personal matter had nothing to do with us or his place at the NIS.” He turn back to take a look at you who standing straight, both hand tucked at your back just like any soldiers always does when they were face to face with higher ranks. But the way you look straight into his eyes was evident that you aren’t one of his soldier. Not one of his trainees. But after years of carrying his secret mission under the command of one of his respected Captain, you gained his trust. He took pride on taking you into his secret division when never once you fail or turn your back against your team. Just the thought of you with his son, making him feel uneasy. But by seeing how his son had thought of you as his friend and the way Juyeon mentioned you a lot during their conversation last night, Lieutenant Lee knew you had found yourself a place inside his son heart. So he came into a conclusion since he is sure that you are in both of his and his son’s side, you could be a way of help to keep his goals.

“I need you to protect him.” He said finally taking a seat before gesturing you to take a sit right opposite from him. “There is a reason why I made a request for him to be transferred here. I’ve been having this thoughts about retirement for a really long time.” He paused clasping his hand together, staring it for a little while before looking back at you. “The one that have been keeping me here is each everyone of you in this division. It took my entire career to establish this division, to keep it as it is now and too keep it away from falling to wrong hands. I believe you know what and who i meant by that.” You give him a curt nod to his explanation before he continue by leaning back, turning his chair to the side until now he face the picture each and everyone of the soldier from all three team of his division. Each one of every accomplishment and medals except for yours. You only appeared in the group photo.

“You’re a one special woman Y/N, even without words you manage to make everyone to like you. We rarely share a words or conversation together, but you know how much I admire your work ethic, you earned everyone in this division’s trust and respect. The more i said it out loud, i’ve gained more confident in entrusting my son on your hand. You are the first to heard this from me, which also mean that i put my full trust on you. You do know how the NIS has been long compromised with all those corrupted officer and few of the ministers. Which is the main reason why the president agreed when i came up with this division. But for years, we’ve been meddling with cases that that are tied to some of the VIP in the blue house which made us a threat to them. They have been doing everything to find out about this division and i believe the moment i step down from this chair, they will hunt all of you down. So I’ve been meaning to hand this division to my son.” He take a deep breath after the long explanation looking into your eyes with an evident worry inside his eyes.

“What’s the problem?”

“You see, Juyeon has been on the sea since he graduated from the military school and he know nothing about the bad side of the law. No matter how good he is in what he does, he is gullible to this corrupted law enforcement and it’ll be hard to explain to him which i don’t even know where to start.”

“If he found out about me,”

“Everything you have done in the past four years already enough for your redemption Y/N. You’ve always been one of us.”

“How should I keep him safe?”

“Know about his mission, just keep him alive. You should know better what to do. Consider this as a request from a father. The moment they know he’s my son, they will do anything to keep him away from the chair. I know this division had been a family to you. Consider that if you keep him safe, you’ll be able to keep this entire thing in tact. This division future now in your hand Y/N.”

“What about my team?”

“Keep this between us for a while. I will announce it to them, but not in the nearest time. So you should carry on with your mission as usual. But make sure to put him first before anything else.”

“I will do my best sir.” You said in more calmed tone before he gave you a nod and you stand to make your way out from his small office. Then his words stop you from turning the knob.

“He like you Y/N. In a way I know that more than a friend.” You turn back to look at him trying to keep your calm facade, trying to act that you're not affected by it at all. “Take that as an advantage to approach him. To gain his full trust.”

I edited the rank of Juyeon's dad, it was meant to be Lieutenant General, but for some reason i thought it'll be okay for me to just put Lieutenant rather than Lieutenant General because its too long and i thought the reader might get it. Silly me. Edited.

#the boyz #tbz scenarios #tbz #the boyz scenarios #tbz au #lee juyeon scenarios #the boyz imagines #lee juyeon imagines

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busterkeatonfanfic · 3 years

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Chapter 17

The canteen at United Artists buzzed with the news of the scene that John Barrymore had made in the ballroom while filming Tempest. For once, Nelly had something to contribute. Over a dozen times, she told her story of him blundering into the washroom and pissing in the sink. She omitted the detail of his nose-picking, as it seemed unnecessarily spiteful. Perhaps she was still loyal to her past infatuation with him, which was now wholly gone. Regardless, her story was still a hit.

It took a couple of days for the canteen chatter to return to the usual: who was straying from their marriage or thinking about divorce or both; who had been seen at a party or a restaurant or a premier; who had been drop-dead drunk and fallen from grace. The other extras felt smug that the stars were mortal and not gods, and although she enjoyed the gossip just as much as anyone, Nelly didn’t feel superior. It was no revelation to her, especially after encountering John Barrymore in the washroom, that Hollywood types were covered in warts if you looked closely. She thought of what Buster had said about many of them not growing up well and being like children who had been handed palaces and toys. Even though he did live in a palace, Buster felt more down-to-earth, a man she might have met anywhere. She’d felt comfortable with Louise Brooks and Charlie Chaplin too.

Occasionally, the canteen talk was more useful, involving buzz about films that were rumored to be in the offing. On Thursday morning at eleven, Nelly heard something that stopped her heart and then broke it. She was eating a chicken salad and half listening to her neighbors, half thinking about the props she needed to organize for an upcoming scene of Norma Talmadge’s new picture The Woman Disputed, which was nearing the end of filming. Every time she thought of the film, she thought of Norma. That caused her to think of Natalie, which in turn led her to think of Buster. Even though he was with another studio and she hadn’t seen him for nearly three months, scarcely a day went by where she didn’t have cause to remember him.

“... Taming of the Shrew,” said her neighbor, a pretty brunette with a bob and a snub nose, and Nelly was suddenly paying attention just as though someone had said her name directly. Shakespeare was not a topic of conversation that typically came up in Hollywood, and when it did it was always Hamlet or Macbeth or Midsummer.

“Excuse me, could you say that again?” she said to her neighbor.

“I was on set yesterday with Mr. Taylor and he was saying his next big film’s called Taming of the Shrew. It’s Shakespeare or something. What a queer title, don’t you think? Why’d you want to tame a shrew?”

Nelly was too excited to explain the particulars of rodents versus unruly women. “When’s he casting?” she said, feeling breathless.

“Well God knows that,” said the extra. “He’s gotta finish with Tempest first, doesn’t he? But he says Doug Fairbanks and Mary Pickford are the leads, so it must be a romance. Lord, I’d give my right ear to be in a film with her.”

Nelly could almost feel the shattered halves of her heart drop into the space beneath her rib cage. Her stomach burned. She murmured some meaningless rejoinder and let others around her pick up the threads of the conversation. No one noticed when she got up and left, her chicken salad half uneaten.

Coming to California, all of her hard work, had been pointless in the end. She’d never stood a real chance of making it onto the screen in a leading role; even the other extras were prettier, slimmer, and more experienced, and they weren’t the main competition when it came to actresses. Somehow, she’d never thought anyone would think to make The Taming of the Shrew without her, though.

She found herself back in the prop department, going through her work like an automaton all while feeling as if a family member had just died. Well, a dream had and it was just as dear to her. It was all she could do to make it through the day without crying, but when she arrived home she found that she was too numb to let the torrent burst forth. She sat on the sofa in her apartment as the news sank in. The trajectory of her life had come into a new and painful focus. She was not to have success in pictures. Here she was, twenty-six, unmarried, no children, no career; in short, not a thing to show for her time on the earth. Worse yet, she was now all but certain that Mr. Taylor had gotten the idea from John Barrymore. Where else would it have come from?

Besides Barrymore, not a single other soul in the world knew what the dream had meant to her except Buster. She still had his number from back in October. It was written on a curled piece of paper in Bert’s handwriting and hidden in her underwear drawer, and she never considered calling it until now. The rational course of action would be to let the storm blow over and the sun reappear from behind the clouds, but she was so miserable that once the thought of Buster was in her head, she couldn’t help herself. She stood up and went into her bedroom. The paper was tucked toward the back of the drawer beneath a black silk lace chiffon chemise she’d never worn before. She told herself that it was humiliating to run to Buster and throw her little fit, yet she was in the hall outside the apartment dialing his number before she had the chance to reason herself out of it.

The line rang and rang and rang some more.

With every second he didn’t pick up, her misery increased. Friendless, talentless, foolish, hopeful Nelly. She was seconds away from hanging up when there was a click on the other lines and a voice, sounding harassed, said, “Hello?”

“Is this Buster?” she said.

“Yeah?” said the voice.

“It’s Nelly.”

There was silence and evident confusion on the other end. “Oh. Well, how are you?”

A hot, mortified flush went through her. How stupid it had been to call him and involve him in her silly problems. She’d probably interrupted him in the middle of something important.

“You know what, it’s not anything important,” she said hastily. “I’m sorry I called. I don’t want to bother you.”

“Well you can’t do that to me. Now I’m interested,” said Buster.

“No, it’s stupid. I just didn’t know who else to tell,” she said.

“Spit it out.”

She took a deep breath. “I just found out that Sam Taylor is directing Taming of the Shrew,” she said. “He’s cast Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks in the leading roles already. And I think—oh, this is so stupid—I think that John Barrymore gave Mr. Taylor the idea. I’m sure I gave John Barrymore the idea. I told him all about it, the night of your party. And—” To her distress, her voice cracked.

There was silence on the line. “Oh,” said Buster, his voice gentle and soothing. “You poor kid. So someone’s gone and taken your dream?”

“Yes,” she said. She fought to swallow back the tears and steady her voice. “Anyway, you’re the only one who knew … and I thought—but I told you it was stupid. I’m sorry. I just didn’t know who else to tell.”

Buster’s next words nearly knocked her over. “Where do you live? I can be right over.”

“No, no, you don’t have to,” she said hurriedly.

“No, I’m coming over. What’s your address?”

“Genesee Avenue, but don’t. You don’t have to.”

“What number?”

“401, but please—”

“Great. I’ll be there in about a half hour.” The line clicked again and he was gone, likely having realized she was about to try to argue him out of it.

She sniffed back her tears and looked around the apartment in a daze, forced to set aside her despair as she considered the state of her home. Neatness had never been one of her talents and there was dirty laundry all over the floor, used cups stacked on top of magazines, and stacks of books everywhere. First, though, she needed to address her makeup. The sob had smeared her mascara and eyeliner, so she reapplied those and touched up her lipstick. Her hair had a few flyaways, but she judged it acceptable. The beige cotton day dress with the green and red dice pattern could have been fancier, but there were dishes and laundry to worry about and she didn’t have time to try on outfits to see which one worked best. She filled a sink with soapy water and did a quick job of cleaning three days’ worth of plates, silverware, and cups. Running short on time, she dashed around the living room next picking up slips, dresses, and stockings. She’d cleared most of them when she heard a distant knock. Her heartbeat rose in her throat.

She slipped out of the apartment and hurried to the front door before any of her neighbors could investigate. When she opened it, Buster was standing there in a pale yellow jacket over a white collared shirt. He gave a slight smile when he saw her. She was simultaneously reassured and distressed by the sight of him.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I really shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“Stop it,” he said, as he stepped over the threshold and she closed the door behind him. “Quit apologizing.”

“Okay,” she said. She brushed past him and took the short hall to her front door. Buster followed. Inside, she motioned for him to sit on the sofa. “I’m sorry about the mess. I wasn’t expecting company.”

“What’d I just say about apologizing?” Buster said. He sat on the sofa, putting his elbows on his knees and knitting his hands. “So tell me about your bad news.”

Nelly hovered next to the sofa, uncertain of how to conduct herself. She was unable to forget that the last time she’d seen Buster, they had engaged in some rather serious kissing and he’d asked her to spend the night with him. There seemed to be no trace of that romantic mood left in him now. “Do you want any coffee? Tea?” she said. “I can make some.”

Buster shook his head. “I want you to sit here and tell me what’s happened.” He patted the cushion next to him.

She felt shy, but didn’t dare disobey. She took a seat beside him, leaving a polite space between them, and began pouring out her tale. In truth, there wasn’t much to say. Fairbanks and Pickford were shoe-ins and her chance to make movie history was down the drain.

“I don’t know what I do now,” she said after explaining what she’d heard in the canteen, the despair creeping up on her again. “I wasted all this time for nothing. I was so stupid to think I’d get anywhere. You told me from the very beginning I wasn’t leading-lady material and I ought to have listened. I feel awful.”

“It’s a tough business for everyone, never mind me putting my foot in my mouth that one time,” Buster said. “What about trying out for one of the other parts?”

Nelly shook her head. “There’s Bianca. That’s it. Even if I wanted the part, I don’t have any experience. Acting in pictures, I mean. I’ve been an extra for you and in John Barrymore’s new picture. That’s all.” Her eyes welled with tears as she wondered what it had all been for. There was no place for a girl of average looks who was twenty pounds too heavy. No place for an old maid. The tears wobbled in her eyes and spilled.

Buster rummaged in his trousers pocket and handed her his handkerchief.

“Thank you,” she choked out. She blew her nose and blotted her eyes, leaving behind smudges of eyeliner and mascara on the clean white fabric. “I was so damn stupid. I shouldn’t have said a god damn thing to John Barrymore. It was hubris.”

Buster patted her shoulder. “I’m sorry, baby. It’s a rotten business.”

She wept at his words, shielding her face with the handkerchief.

“Now c’mon. Don’t do that. C’mere,” said Buster.

She shook her head, but he pulled her to him and gathered her in his arms. She gave up and buried her face in his shoulder. “I’m so stupid,” she said into his shirt. As she cried the rest of her tears he continued to hold her, rubbing her back and putting his chin in her hair.

“If it makes you feel better, even people who’ve been in the biz since the beginning don’t always get what we want,” said Buster. “I just lost my studio.”

“I know,” she said, sniffling. “Bert told me. It’s not fair to you, either.” Her tears soaked into his shirt.

Buster’s chin on her head and his touch on her back were comforting. Although she was in the grip of despondency, the caresses were making her feel just a little like things might be okay after all.

“I’m glad you called,” he said, when the hitches in her chest began to lessen.

“Why?” she said, straightening up and breaking his hold on her. She turned her face away. She could feel it was hot and blotchy and knew she’d cried off half her makeup. She blew her nose.

“I’ve been thinking about you, Nellie Dean.”

She dabbed at her face with the cleaner edges of the handkerchief and hazarded a glance at him. “What?”

“Since my party.”

She couldn’t tell what his expression meant. “What do you mean?” she said, feeling dumb.

“A pretty girl is like a melody / That haunts you night and day,” he sang, with a silly smile.

She laughed at his absurdity and wiped her nose with the handkerchief. Her mood was suddenly lighter by half. He was telling her he hadn’t forgotten her. “Buster Keaton, are you making love to me?”

He nodded. “C’mere.”

She shook her head. “I look like an utter fright, my nose is stopped up, how can you possibly want—”

“Shh,” he said. He tugged at her arm and she couldn’t resist.

She fell against him and he took her face in his hands. The kiss was long and searching. The taste of his mouth was familiar and reassuring, and the melting sensation she felt was the same, too. She’d given up hope of this ever happening again and felt beyond giddy now that it was. She leaned into him and put her hands on the back of his neck. After a minute or so, he removed his hands from her face and clutched her to him. Their thighs pressed together as they kissed.

Too soon, Nelly had to pull back. “My nose is still stopped up,” she said with a laugh. She turned away and blew it again.

Buster reeled her back into his embrace as soon as she’d finished. This time when he kissed her, he slid his hand up her knee and under her dress. He bypassed her stocking, stopped on her bare upper thigh, and squeezed, his hand warm and emphatic. Thrilled, Nelly insinuated her hands beneath his jacket to rest on his back as his tongue met hers. She knew that they couldn’t go further—she had her little friend visiting—but she found him hard to resist. He made her forget that she would never have success in pictures and that she currently looked like a fright. Feeling bold, she dropped one hand to the rear waistband of his trousers and tugged his shirt and undershirt out so she could put her hand against the warm skin of his back.

Buster made a noise in his throat and pulled back, withdrawing his hand from her dress. He was considering her in that silent, serious way that he had. When she went to touch his face, he caught her hand. He planted kisses on her palm, then put her hand on his cheek and held it there. A very sober look was on his face and she realized in an instant what it meant.

“I can’t,” she said, blushing.

He looked crestfallen. “Are you religious? Is that why you won’t go to bed with me?”

She laughed and blushed deeper. “No, not at all. I’ve—oh, this is embarrassing—I’ve got my monthlies.”

“Oh,” he said.

“I want to,” she said, not meeting his eyes. She wound her hand around his and brought it to her lips so she could kiss his knuckles. For the first time, she noticed that the index finger of his right hand was missing the first joint and there was a small protrusion at the tip. “What happened?” she said, touching it.

Buster withdrew his hand like he’d been burnt. “Clothes wringer when I was a tot,” he said.

“You’re self-conscious about it,” she said, comprehension dawning. “I’m sorry.” She gently took his hand again and kissed each fingertip individually, including the shortened one. His nails were bitten down and she wondered fleetingly about all the things she didn’t know about him. “I think it’s beautiful, just like the rest of you.” She looked at him and he swallowed. “I’m sorry about … having my monthlies too.”

“I said no apologizing,” he said, clearing his throat.

“I did want to, that night at your party,” Nelly said, pressing his hand. “And when I didn’t hear from you, I figured I was just there for a little fun.”

Buster returned the press of her hand. “You weren’t.” He cleared his throat again. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you sometime.”

“Okay.”

They lapsed into silence and she could hear Buster thinking as he stroked her hand.

“Are you hungry? I could make some sandwiches.”

“No, I uh—” He scratched his head with his other hand, seeming nervous. “I better go.”

Nelly’s heart sank. She had done something to offend him. Maybe it was mentioning his finger. Or her monthly visitor. Perhaps he thought she was making excuses. “Did I say something?” she said.

“No. I just think if I stay here any longer, I’ll—” He laughed and didn’t finish his thought.

“What?” she said. She kissed his hand in concern.

“I might be compelled to do something rash, monthlies or no monthlies.” His laughter trailed off and he gave her a meaningful look.

“Oh.” Monthlies or no monthlies, a lick of fire went through her. “I should see you out.” She stood before he had a chance to test his powers of persuasion and the fire had a chance to catch. If he really did mean to take her to bed, she didn’t want it to be this way, her makeup half-gone, the redcoats downstairs. “I’m glad you came. I feel better.”

Buster stood and put a hand in the center of her back. “Any time. Don’t worry too bad, you’ll get your break. And hey, maybe the picture will flop without you in it, ever think of that?” The hand slipped down to her waist and they walked slowly to her door.

“With Mary Pickford and Doug Fairbanks?” she said, smiling. “Not likely.”

“You never know,” he said. They went out the door and walked down the hall together, Buster still gripping her waist.

“Thanks again,” she said, as they reached the front door of the apartment.

Buster kept hold of her waist. “Same day, same time next week?” he said.

“What, here?” she said, her heart speeding up.

He kissed her forehead. “If the invitation stands.”

“Of course.” She hugged him, burying her face against the side of his neck where he smelled like aftershave and Buster. Her heart was beating so hard she thought she might swoon.

Buster squeezed her back. “I’ll give you a call next week, okay? Keep your chin up.”

With a parting kiss to her lips, he stepped into the night. She watched him until he got into his car and pulled away, then returned to her apartment. She didn’t think it was possible for her to feel in any more of a muddle. On the whole, though, Buster had made it a much more pleasant muddle. It was a cool fifty-eight degrees the morning of the 26th. There was the sign, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer-Stvdios, the gate that swung open to admit him, the attendant in the booth that waved him onto his destiny. As Buster parked his car in front of the offices, he reflected that anyone else in his place would have a song in their heart right now, what with the weekly $3,000 and twenty-five percent cut of profits that were soon to be his. Nothing sung in him. He couldn’t shake the image of a prisoner walking to the gallows as he entered the building.

Mayer’s office was wood-panelled and working hard, Buster saw, to convey taste and refinement. Mayer had a soft, persuasive voice with a hint of a Russian accent, and it was with this voice that he told Buster how honored he was that Mr. Keaton had chosen to sign with them, and hoped that his time with the studio would be productive and successful. Irving Thalberg, also in the room, expressed similar wishes. Other men whose names he was told and promptly forgot shook his hand and said it was an honor. Professions were made that if he should need anything, anything, he should never hesitate to call upon them. Buster nodded and answered in kind. The whole scene felt stiffly rehearsed and he never had cared for rehearsals. He felt like he was watching himself on the screen.

Harold Lloyd’s words went through his head. It’s not your gang. You’ll lose.

But there was the contract set out on a little desk like a bone for a dog, and there was the Villa to think of, the Villa wouldn’t pay for itself. There were his boys, his Little Lord Fauntleroys. There was Natalie too, he had to keep her in the way in which she had become accustomed, and he also had Myra and the other Keatons to support.

The bone seemed too easy, there had to be some catch, some dog-catcher’s trap he wasn’t seeing. He picked up the fountain pen with the gold bib and mother-of-pearl inlays on the barrel. Giving his audience a slight smile, he unearthed the final page of the contract and signed. There was no need to read the pages before; he’d been given a copy by Joe beforehand and seen all the herebys, herewiths, hold harmlesses, and ‘it is understoods and agreeds.’

Someone clapped his shoulders and he had the fight the urge to sock them one good for touching him. He didn’t know these stuffed shirts from Adam, but he shook hands agreeably instead. It then transpired that they wanted to snap some pictures of him outside the gates, so away he went, the pliable new star that they had collected for their luminous pantheon.

It was understand and agreed, he thought, standing there with a suitcase in one hand and oversized leather satchel in another, that Buster should herewith pose with some bags that had been plastered with stickers that read GAGS, the reason being that they would convey to the public that he was moving into M-G-M and bringing his gags (haha!) with him. He wanted a cigarette, but then there came headshots, and after all wasn’t it an honor for the photographer to be shooting him? The photographer said so, anyway.

Honor. Everyone kept using that word. It made it sound like he was doing them a favor out of the goodness of his heart, rather than being forced into it.

When every excruciating formality had been taken care of, he shook another round of hands and was released. The tour of the studios had occurred a few weeks before and all that needed to happen now was for his new picture to be settled on. Mayer assured him that they would be in touch about it.

As he drove away and headed back to Beverly Hills, cigarette in mouth, he felt like doing something reckless and destructive, but nothing suggested itself. Drinking himself into a stupor was too obvious and easy. He wanted to burn something down, beat someone up, anything to tarnish the squeaky-clean reputation he knew that Louis Mayer wanted him to have. He thought of surprising Nelly with a visit, but since it had only been two days since he saw her, her feminine predicament was likely to be the same. He wished Roscoe were in town and that they could paint the town red like they used to. Then he felt guilty, knowing that old Roscoe would give his right arm for a chance like he was getting. In a dialogue in his head, he apologized to Roscoe and explained that everything had changed since those early, innocent days. Things weren’t what they used to be. Hollywood was growing up.

It’s not your gang.

Well, what was done was done. There was no turning back now.

You’ll lose.

When the familiar streets and buildings of Beverly Hills came into view, he finally figured out what he was going to do. He was going to have an affair. In the years since his exile from Natalie’s bed, he’d had plenty of trysts. He was known to a brothel or two, and he’d also had a couple of steadies, girls with their own places he could depend on to scratch the itch when he got it, but he’d never had a real affair. He knew the perfect place to start it, too. He pulled into the parking lot of Luxury Travel and stretched his legs.

The receptionist pretended not to be awed when she saw him. “What can I do for you, Mr. Keaton?” she said, as though they’d met before.

“I’d like to see a man about a cabin,” he said. “A cabin by a lake.”

“Of course. Let me go get Mr. Cabbot.”

In Mr. Cabbot’s office, Buster reiterated his desire for a cabin by a lake, within an easy drive, and Mr. Cabbot said he’d see what they had. Together, they agreed that a place just northeast of the San Fernando Valley fit the bill. Buster arranged to rent it Friday through Sunday. When Natalie asked him what he was whistling about when he returned to the Villa, he told her he was happy about the M-G-M contract, but he was thinking about next week, having Nelly all to himself in a cabin by a lake. Notes: Buster signed the MGM contract on January 26th, 1928. I’d love to know what he was really feeling that day, but I can only speculate via this story. I’ve had amazing moments of serendipity writing this story (which has turned out to be far longer than I would have ever expected). For example, when I decided casually back in the beginning that Nelly’s dream was starring in a talkie of The Taming of the Shrew, I had no idea--scout’s honor--that there was a version of the film starring Pickford and Fairbanks and that it was the first adaption of Shakespeare into talking pictures. It was released in 1929, but filming probably would have been in the fall of 1928. How crazy is that? More serendipity presented itself when I found out that Sam Taylor directed Nelly’s crush Barrymore in Taylor’s previous film. The choice of Barrymore as Nelly’s love interest was also arbitrary, but it worked out perfectly. I think the fiction has also let me get to know Buster better than before, and I think I must be immersed in his character well. Case in point: When I considered where Buster would take a girl he liked if starting an affair with her, an outdoorsy location with plenty of humble living struck me as appropriate. I’ve been slowly reading Rudi Blesh’s bio of Buster while writing this fic and was completely bowled over to learn that Buster’s honeymoon with Eleanor Norris Keaton consisted of a station wagon trip to June Lake. Cross my heart, I had completed Chapter 18 before reading that! Anyway, writing this fiction has been fun and the serendipity has made it more so, and I hope you’re enjoying it. Do leave a comment if you are.

#Buster Keaton #fan fiction #RPF #Actor RPF #Golden Age Hollywood #silent film

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true-blue-megamind · 3 years

Text

Daylight and Dark Ch. 2 - Morning

You can find Chapter 1 or read the entire fiction on AO3 HERE.

CHAPTER RATING: Teen; FULL FICTION RATING: Explicit. WARNINGS FOR ENTIRE WORK: violence, sex, language, references to prior domestic abuse, and rock n’ roll! CHAPTER WARNINGS: Mom Friend Minion is too damn loveable

Roxanne woke with her head pillowed on Megamind's shoulder. She blinked blearily in the bright sunlight filling the room, and stretched delightfully sore muscles. It had been too long since she'd last awoken with the afterglow of good, rough sex warming her body.

"Good morning, Beautiful," said a smooth, pleasant voice.

Roxanne smiled up into Megamind's handsome face. "Good morning," she sighed, sliding against him to kiss his mouth. She settled back beside him, nuzzling the side his neck and idly sliding one finger up and down his opposite ear. "Mmmmm, I should get up, but I'm much too comfortable."

"Then don't get up."

"But I really should."

"The Evil Overlord forbids it."

"You're not an Evil Overlord anymore."

"Well, then the Defender of Metrocity forbids it," he grinned down at her, turning to wrap both arms tightly around her. "Stay with me," he added seriously. "It's Saturday. As long as I'm not called to duty, there is no good reason why we can't spend the whole day here."

An electronic buzzing suddenly disturbed the quiet. It was quickly joined by a metallic rattling at the window. Roxanne bolted up in bed, giving a little yelp and pulling her coverlet over her chest as she realized six or seven brainbots were swarming outside the glass. Megamind's reaction was even more animated. He practically tumbled onto the floor, bringing the rumbled sheet with him and wrapping himself frantically in it. He stumbled to the window and, ignoring Roxanne's stuttering protests, threw it open to let the little flying robots in. They massed around him like worried children, bumping him with rounded glass domes and pawing him with long mechanical arms. Roxanne was sure that if they'd had tails, they would have been wagging.

Chuckling nervously, Megamind patted them. "Okay, okay, Daddy's alright. This is just Daddy's… ah… private time… So we really shouldn't be bothering Daddy. No we shouldn't." He shook a finger at them to emphasize his words, but that caused the sheet to slip a little, and he snatched it back up into place. "Look, Daddy's not leaving you behind. Daddy just needs to spend some alone time with Roxanne, okay? Daddy loves both you and Roxanne, but in very different ways…"

Roxanne nearly choked on her giggle. Of all the absurd things she had seen him do during her semi-professional Damsel-in-Distress career, none were quite as funny as Megamind giving the Daddy Has a Girlfriend speech to a hoard of cyborg drones. Her humor was stolen, however, when one of the brainbots left the happily swirling flock to hover in front of an empty section of wall. Moments later, the top minion— or rather Minion— appeared, his image projected by the brainbot's red camera eye. Roxanne blushed bright scarlet and tugged the blanket higher. She knew enough about Megamind's technological creations to realize that Minion could see them just as well as they could see him.

"Oh, sir! Thank goodness they found you! I've had the brainbots looking everywhere! Where have you been all night?!"

"Here."

"No phone call? No message? You just stay out to all hours—"

"Minion," Megamind interjected. "This really isn't the best—"

"Without a single thought of what you might be putting me through—"

"Minion—"

"...worried sick, and—"

"Minion!"

"WHAT? I mean…Ah... What, Sir?"

Megamind took a deep breath and began gathering scattered clothes from the floor with one hand, the other still clutching the sheet tight. "You're right. I should have called. I didn't think about it—"

"Didn't… didn't think about it?" Minion blustered, wide-eyed. "Sir! How could you? After all we've been through! You… You know that my sole purpose is to take care of you, and… and…"

"Oh, Minion! Stop being so dramatic! You know very well I didn't mean it that way!" Megamind threw up his free hand in exasperation, flinging his shirt above his head.

"How did you mean it, then?"

Another deep breath and Megamind collected himself. "I got a little caught up in the moment and… things…"

"Things? What things?! That's no excuse!"

"Things, Minion," Megamind said pointedly, motioning his head toward the bed. "And this seriously is not a good time."

Minion glanced where his master indicated. "Oh good morning, Miss... Ritchi..." his cordial voice grew faint as he finally took in the scene. Large aquatic eyes bulged, flitting between Roxanne and his master.

"Oh, Sir! You didn't!"

Megamind rolled his eyes and snatched one of his boots from the floor. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I did."

"Sir!"

"And I plan to do it again!"

"But Sir!"

"A lot!"

"SIR!"

"As often as possible!"

Minion mouthed wordlessly before shaking himself free of shock. "Well, I just hope you're being safe," he quipped in a tone that sounded entirely too matronly.

Oh, dear… thought Roxanne.

Megamind had paused instantly, mouth open to offer a retort that never came.

"Oh, sir," Minion repeated, groaning in despair. "You didn't…"

"I… didn't think… " He gathered himself visibly. "Look, Minion, it's doubtful our DNA is even similar enough to be compatible!"

"You can't know that without tests!" Minion objected, then asked hopefully: "have you run any tests?"

"It's on my to-do list!" Megamind announced defensively.

Minion clapped a mechanical hand to his fishbowl. "This is a disaster..."

At least here Roxanne could help. "It's okay, Megamind, Minion. I'm… Uh…" she shrugged, fighting the burning heat in her face. "On the pill."

The entire room seemed to sigh with relief.

"Well, thank goodness one of you has some sense!" said Minion pointedly. "Sir, I am very disappointed in you."

Megamind spoke through gritted teeth. "Could we discuss this later?"

"No, we can NOT discuss this later," Minion replied in his best parental tones. "Sir, you have a reputation to uphold now, and—What are you doing?"

Megamind had walked up behind the hovering brain bot, tucking the edges of the sheet tightly under one arm, and started fiddling with something on its back.

"I understand," he sounded bored. "Reputation. Yes."

Minion's eyes narrowed, his tone slow with barely restrained suspicion. "With all due respect, Sir, if you're doing what I think you're—"

"What was that Minion?" Megamind called loudly.

"Sir, leave that audio-visual receptor alone!"

"I can't hear you!"

"Stop that!"

"There seems to be a problem with the receptor!"

"Problem with—That's because you're messing with it!"

"Minion? Ollo? If you can hear me—"

"Of course I can hear you!"

"…I'll talk to you this afternoon when I get home!"

"Sir! Don't you dare turn off that—"

The image went blank.

Megamind heaved a great sigh and idly petted the brainbots. Then he walked to the far side of the room, where he had thrown his collection of clothing, and awkwardly held the sheet with one hand while fumbling with his leather pants. He extracted his wallet and turned back to the brainbots.

"Here," he said, holding out a twenty-dollar bill. "Daddy needs you to take this, go to the bait shop, and buy Uncle Minion something nice. Some juicy worms or maybe some minnows. No, no, no," he admonished as one of them snapped at the money. "Not for chewing. Daddy will bring you a new wrench to play with when he comes home. Now go get Uncle Minion a treat."

The little robots circled him once by way of a goodbye, the lead one obediently taking the money in a dangling claw, and flew out the window. The last one ran into the windowsill, and Megamind sighed, scooped it up, turned back on its electronic eye, and patted it. It sped out the window, chattering irately at its receding fellows. Roxanne could almost imagine a running child shouting for his friends to wait up.

"Well," Megamind said, slumping to the bed. "That certainly woke me up. Maybe it would be simpler if you stayed over at the Lair next time." He grinned suddenly, his lightning-quick thoughts leaping to a new subject. "I'm starving! Where's that lasag-na?"

"For breakfast?"

"It's nearly eleven! Besides, it's better than cereal and wine."

Roxanne laughed. "I guess I can't argue with that." She sighed and got up, pretending not to watch Megamind as he dropped the sheet and began pulling on his clothes.

Megamind, thoughtful as ever, had put the food into the refrigerator sometime during the night. The salad Roxanne had made had wilted, but the lasagna was wonderful once reheated. Sitting on the small balcony outside the glass double doors, they enjoyed the pleasant, invigorating bite of the autumn air. Megamind ate voraciously, but then, Roxanne supposed, he had gotten quite a work out the night before.

That thought made her chuckle.

"And just what do you find so amusing, Miss Ritchi?" he teased in that heart-melting tenor of his.

She looked at him, adorably happy with his favorite food and his favorite girl. It took so little to please Megamind sometimes, and his exuberance, coupled with his persona as a dark superhero, seemed both oxymoronic and oddly fitting. It was… relaxing and somehow comforting to be around someone who was so content.

"Has anyone ever told you you're cute?" Roxanne asked, dishing out another serving of lasagna to him.

He grinned at her. "Yes, actually. An inmate in Metrocity Prison when I was a toddler. His name was Kip Kendall— or at least that's what people called him. I'm not sure if Kip was a nickname, honestly. He'd been convicted of murdering some thugs who got on his bad side, and he was very possibly the toughest, meanest brute on Cell Block A. But he was always nice to me when I was young. Around anyone else he was stern and dangerous… Around me, well, he was the closest thing to a father figure I had. He used to play pattie-cake with me, if you can believe that, and carry me around the Yard on his shoulders. No one dared to mock him for it either— not even the guards— and if anyone thought less of him for it, they were smart enough to keep it to themselves." His eyes grew distant as a sad memory ghosted behind them. "I'll never forget the day Uncle Marlow—one of the other two inmates who took the most interest in my upbringing—took me aside and explained that Uncle Kip had gone. Kip had been given consecutive life sentences by a jury too forward-thinking to give a clearly unbalanced man the death penalty, but Cancer had other ideas. I'd known he was sick— they'd had to take him to the infirmary, and the last time I visited him there he seemed so… so unlike himself— but when he went it still felt… wrong. Sudden. I remember thinking how unfair it was that he left without saying goodbye."

Roxanne reached across the table, laying her hand over his, willing him to open his soul and let the old pain dissipate like dark mist in the sunlight.

"I remember feeling that way when—" Roxanne's voice caught. She'd never actually told anyone else this before. Not even the expensive psychologist her grandparents had taken her to for years. With a deep breath, she continued. "I remember feeling that way when my mom died. I was fifteen, in my senior year of high school, and someone told me I had to go to the principal's office. I kept thinking and thinking, trying to figure out what I'd done wrong, and then I saw Principal Hartwell's face. The school counselor and my granddad were with him. And I knew. Somehow I just knew," she paused, wrapping her arms around herself and staring at the glass tabletop. "I started crying before they could even tell me, and I kept asking how. I remember someone saying something about icy roads, and dozing off at the wheel, and how it was no one's fault. I hated that person for saying that. I wanted it to be someone's fault, to be able to blame somebody. I wanted to blame the car company for not making her sedan stronger, or the hospital for making her work that stupid double shift, or my sperm donor for leaving us so that she had to work so many hours in the first place. But more than anything else," she dared to lift her eyes to his, "for a long time, I wanted to blame her for not saying goodbye."

Megamind stood up and moved beside her chair to wrap one arm around her shoulders. She leaned into his warmth, laying her hand on his.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I had already left Metrocity High School by then. If I had known... I would have been there."

Roxanne laughed a little through her sorrow. "Yeah, that would have gone well... The city's new supervillain showing up to offer a spikey shoulder to cry on." She sighed and squeezed his hand. "You know you couldn't have, no matter how much you might have wanted to."

"I would have. I loved you even then, and I would have done anything for you." He kissed the top of her head. "I'm so sorry you lost your mother that way."

"It's alright. I mean, it's not alright, not really, but… It was a long time ago. I still miss her, but I've kept going. I've built a life for myself, just like she would have wanted." Roxanne sighed, but the sound held more relief than sadness. "You know, it's kind of nice to finally talk about it."

Megamind bent to lay his cheek on top of her head. She could almost hear the gentle smile in his voice. "It's nice to finally have someone to talk about it with," he said.

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stickyhoney · 4 years

Text

Title: Fugitives

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Summary: You have fled with the war criminal Steve Rogers, known as Captain America, to a small village in the north of France. After months of hiding, tensions and feelings have peaked.

A/N: This will be my first multi-chapter work, so be patient with me please. Also seeing all your comments and messages makes me so happy, so keep them coming ;)

Word Count: 1.8k

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warning: Adult Language, Sexual Tension, fluff

Chapter One:

“Would you give it a rest already?!” The wooden door cracked against the hinges after your strong push. The echoes of the door hitting against the wall reverberated strongly throughout the small cottage that the two of you had called home for the past 3 months. Steve was strict on not using the word “home” however, even though America had turned its back on him, he could never call another country home.

“How many times have I told you?! We can’t talk to the locals!” His voice boomed against the confines of the kitchen. You could feel the vibrations of his steps under your feet. His stomps rivaled an elephant’s when he was angry.“You get to talk to the men in the village everyday! All I did was introduce myself to the women in the square.” Your tone leveled out by the end of your defense. You remembered you shouldn't have to defend your actions.

You were both knocking your boots off onto the floor, leaving dirt all around the doormat. Old hardened clumps of clay remained from workdays past, blades of grass from the garden out back. Steve hung his dark ballcap on the hook by the door, with a sharp snapping motion. “Do you think I choose to spend my time out there with those men? I do that to make sure we survive. Those are purely professional relationships, they know nothing of me other than my ability to split wood with my hands.”

Flashbacks back to Clint’s family farm make your heart warm for a brief moment. The sound of his children squealing with joy, calling you auntie, haunted your memories. You let your hair down, shaking it until it falls to your shoulders. “Why can’t I work in the village like you do? Steve… I haven’t spoken to anyone other than you for months. I can’t keep on this way.” Your mind and heart were exhausted from these past months. You had left everything you had ever known behind, and adopted the moniker of “war criminal”. The feeling of isolation had been beating the both of you down, Steve was just better at coping.

“You act like you have a choice.” His voice was flat, his tone cold. Sometimes it startled you how much Steve had changed, he was nowhere near the sweetheart he once was. He was now a rugged, hardened, survivor. The long sigh you let out signaled defeat, at least for tonight.

Dinner was the only time you could convince Steve to relax. It had been your secret mission to give you two a piece of home through food, even if you didn’t always know what you were doing. Tonight was spaghetti night, Steve’s favorite. Gathering ingredients in the garden had become an unspoken tradition between you. It was all so domestic, picking tomatoes from the vines and clipping parsley from the herb garden in the kitchen window. Your small garden and patio had become your haven from the daunting trials of your new normal.

The wooden spoon dragged through the thick marinara sauce you had made, causing whirls of hot steam to rise up to your nostrils. The comforting aroma filled the cramped cottage, every nook and cranny had been permeated with tomato and parsley. Behind you, feet dragged on the tiles towards you. “Huh, smells pretty good.” Your lips pull up into a faint smile, a giggle rises from your chest. “You sound surprised.” You turned around with the large pot of sauce to find Steve within a foot of you, causing your hands to release the pot. Steve’s arms quickly react and catch the pot inches from the ground, small drops of sauce splashing out onto the tiles. “God Steve! You can’t sneak up on me like that!” You drop down onto your knees with a towel to clean up the mess, somewhat embarrassed at your jumpiness. Ever since that night… it had been getting worse.

“I can’t fucking help you get scared so easy!” You rose back up to him, trying to keep your embarrassment hidden. “I’m sorry, I- I can’t help it.” You tried to sound strong, but your words came out timid and meek. Steve’s eyes softened after realizing what he had said, realization hitting his features. Pity was never something you wanted from anyone, especially him. “[y/n]...” His hand reaches for your elbow, in a sympathetic gesture. Tears began to well up, your face was reddening, so you moved your body away from his. Acting like everything was normal when nothing was, it was a lifestyle for the both of you. Dinner went by normally, with only a few words said, most of which were grunts of satiated hunger.

“Ice cream?” Your eyebrow kicked up inquisitively, even though you already knew the answer. Steve was a sucker for ice cream, especially this certain kind you picked up from a vendor in the village. It was made from the woman's fresh blueberry patch. You made sure to keep a carton in the freezer. Steve places a hand over his non-existent food baby, and grunts. “You know I do.”

You struggle to stand after downing three full plates of spaghetti and two bowls of salad. “I’ve never seen a woman eat as much as you do. It’s unnatural.” You sat the carton down on the counter, and began to take bowls out. “Did you see Nat eat? She could eat a house full of food in one go.” You were giggling through the last few words until you looked back, a cold Steve with a deadpan expression. He always goes blank when the past comes into conversation.

“We’ve gotta let the ice cream thaw…” You skated across the tile floors in your socks, towards the living room. You wanted to get his mind off things, he had been a jerk lately. Even when Steve Rogers was mad at the world, he had never been so coarse with you. There was one thing you knew that Steve loved… even if it was a hundred years ago.

Your fingers picked up the needle and lifted it across and down onto the black vinyl record. The cottage came with an old vinyl record player, it was hidden under an old white sheet in the corner of the living room. Steve never paid it any mind since it had been broken, but you had secretly been fixing it for the past month. The faint buzz of the needle connecting to the moving record reverberated through the silent house.

“Strangers in the night,

Exchanging glances

Wandering the night,

What were the chances

We'd be sharing love

Before the night was through”

Frank Sinatra’s sultry voice carried you back into the kitchen. When you entered Steve had stood up and stood so rigid, that he reminded you of a soldier standing at attention. “What’s that look for?” You had bent over in pain from trying to contain your laughter. He looked as if his commander walked into the room. “What are you doing playing that music?” You knew he loved Sinatra, probably because it transported him to a simpler time when he knew all the answers. Get the bad guys, defend your country, get the girl.

You stood back up, jokingly going expressionless, and standing more rigid than a wooden board. “Well soldier, I was anticipating doing some dancing.” You tapped the back of your heels together and stuck your arm out towards him as an invitation.

“Something in your eyes

Was so inviting

Something in your smile

Was so exciting

Something in my heart

Told me I must have you”

“I don’t dance [y/n]. You know that.” His body began to decompress, the tensity of his limbs dissipating, his eyes lowering. You purse your lips into a playful pout, and place your palms out as if you were a beggar. “C’mon, make a girl happy. I’m sure you’ve got some move in you.” Steve breathed out a long sigh, and ran his hand back through his long dirty blonde hair. “C’mon, I promise I won’t bite…”

You step in closer to him, your hands reaching for his wrists. He meets you halfway, stepping towards you. “I might be rusty.” Your left hand guides his around your waist while the right holds his out beside you upright. You chuckle under your breath knowing he was lying, he took charge and led the dance.

“Strangers in the night

Two lonely people

We were strangers in the night

Up to the moment

When we said our first hello

Little did we know

Love was just a glance away

A warm embracing dance away”

After a few moments, you laid your head on his chest. The coarse material scratched against your cheek, but was soothed by the heat this man was radiating. He was like a damn furnace. His hands were worn from the daily manual labor that kept a roof over your head. Steve began humming along to the chorus, his deep vibrato sending vibrations through his chest. You couldn’t help but bask in his scent. His must and leather jacket mixed for a lovely combination, one that had become ingrained in your being. You knew he didn’t like using the word home, but he had become yours.

Your free hand wrapped around his back pulling him in closer, your thumb tracing circles. It was the untold promise between you, keep things friendly. The promise was becoming harder and harder to keep, but the both of you knew why it was important to keep. Silence passed between you for a few minutes. "Thank you for this [y/n]."

The vinyl record fades into silence, the only thing the two of you were swaying to was the sound of the wind whistling through the weeping willows branches out front. "Oh the ice cream!" You jump out of his embrace and run towards the carton on the counter, the blueberry ice cream had turned to a thin consistency. "Noooo whyyyyyy" you cried out as dramatically as you could. You turned back to see that Steve was gone, and heard his bedroom door shut quietly across the house.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #nomad steve #steverogers #steve rodgers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #rpf #marvel

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tearsofgrace · 4 years

Text

Ragged Angels

starting a new fic for anon :) ima post in three short chapters probably, but here’s chapter one

warnings: none, tags: mafia au, modern setting, fluff, angst, established relationship rating: t (violence)

also posting on archive

The soft crunch of wheels on gravel sent a shiver down Cas’ spine and he looked up slowly, drawing his knife back from the throat of the man tied up below him. It was an interesting blade--silver and shaped more like a short sword than anything. He’d got it out of a deal years ago, and it had become his trademark.

“Looks like your friends are here,” he said quietly, tracing the man’s hairline with the cool metal. Cas noted distractedly that his hair was sloppy, like he’s cut it himself months ago and never bothered to try again. From behind him, he could see the drops of sweat running down the sides of his face, but not the man’s eyes. He needed to see his eyes.

Cas walked around to the front of him and lowered himself to look straight into the man’s eyes. He let a small smile creep onto his face and traced the man’s throat with his knife, letting the smile grow as he did.

The veins in the man’s neck bulged as he gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “They’ll kill you,” he muttered.

“I doubt that,” Cas said.

“Just give me more-”

“I guess they’ll have to get the money,” his voice was still soft, but he let a slight edge creep into it.

The man sucked in a deep breath, but before he could let it out Cas slammed the blade through his throat. A small noise escaped the man, and then he was silent. Cas pulled out the knife and wiped it thoughtfully with the handkerchief in his pocket before stepping back. Then he turned and walked from the warehouse.

He heard shouts behind him, chaos erupting as the body was found. He smiled grimly to himself and rolled his eyes. Then he hopped into his truck and drove away.

His hands were loose around the wheel, and he could see out of the corner of his eyes that he’d gotten a little bit of blood under one nail. It glittered slightly in the fading light, taunting him, and he tried unsuccessfully to dig it out. Right when he was about to pull over and fix it, a soft buzzing pulled his attention away. His frustration mounting, he pulled his phone from his pocket.

As soon as he saw the name, it all melted away. All the frustration, the nerves that he would never admit still wracked him whenever he killed a man, the sound of tires rolling up still echoing in his mind. All of it gone, replaced with a single name: Dean.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas. You almost done?”

He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. Dean sounded so young, so innocent. He only let himself get like this when he was talking to Cas. That’s when the wall came down. “Yes.”

“And you can still come tonight, right?”

“Of course, sweetheart. I wouldn’t miss it.”

Dean let out a contented sigh, and Cas could almost feel his warm breath against his ear. He moved the phone to hang up, but he heard Dean grunt on the other end, like he was going to say something and then he stopped.

“What?”

“Did-” Dean took a deep breath in and then started again with a new steel in his voice. “Did everything go okay?”

“You know you don’t need to worry about my work.”

“I know, and I don’t care, honestly. I just-” Dean hesitated again and Cas smiled in spite of himself. He was adorable. “I worry about you.”

“I’ve been doing this a long time, Dean. Everything’s taken care of.”

There was rustling on the other end, and then, “Okay. I love you.”

“I know,” Cas said with a smile. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Then he hung up, the glint of blood under his nail catching in the light as he hit the red button and he cursed quietly to himself and set his phone in the cupholder, rolling his shoulders back before turning his full attention back to the road.

-------

The smell of champagne and snobbery wafted through the air, and Cas sucked it all in with a smile. He knew almost everyone here of course, though most of them would never admit to knowing him. It was bad for business.

Not that it mattered; tonight was Dean’s night.

Speak of the devil (or angel, in Cas’ mind), Dean was weaving through the crowd toward him. He’d rented a black tux--Cas would have bought him a nicer one, but he’d refused--and it hugged his form tightly. Dean so rarely dressed up, Cas felt his pulse tick up slightly at the sight. But even if his breathing increased slightly, he looked perfectly calm from the outside. Staying calm under duress was one of his many specialties.

“Cas,” Dean breathed as he reached him. And Cas almost let a smile slip out, just at that one simple word. The smile he reserved for himself, when no one else could see him. The smile that he even hid from Dean, most of the time anyway.

So he suppressed it, keeping his face a perfect taciturn mask. “Hello, Dean.”

He reached out for a flute of champagne from the passing waiter’s tray, but Dean’s hand snaked out and caught his. He took a step in closer and Cas took in another deep breath, determined to stay in control. Dean twisted his hand so they could both see it and slowly traced his nail. The nail with blood still caught underneath it.

“I thought you said it went well?”

Cas drew his hand back and pressed a short kiss into Dean’s forehead. “And I thought I said not to worry. Don’t you have places to be? People to introduce me to?”

Dean let out a little huff--Cas had to push back that damn smile again--and then took Cas’ offered arm, leaning into him slightly. He nodded to an older couple standing in the corner. The woman had a floor length red gown on, completely with a sparkling diamond necklace wrapped around her neck.

Cas’ eyebrows raised slightly at the sight of it. He’d sold it just weeks ago after taking it off a high-ranking government official. He’d almost bemoaned the loss, regardless of the profit. Dean had looked amazing with it and nothing else on. He glanced down at Dean and saw the blush rising in his cheeks. He pulled him a little closer to his body then guided him over to the couple.

“Mrs-,” he paused for effect, even though he never forgot a name, “Autry, was it?”

She glanced up, and to her credit, gave no sign of recognition. “Yes, it is. And you are…” she trailed off, with a quaint raise of one brow.

“Mr. Novak. And this is my husband, Dean Winchester. He organized this whole event.”

Her companion’s eyebrow raised at the word husband and Cas rolled his eyes slightly, forcing a civil expression.

“This is my husband, Charles Autry.”

The party lapsed into awkward silence, and Cas felt Dean shift beside him, clearly searching for a topic of conversation. Cas squeezed his arm a little and looked straight ahead with clear eyes. They could handle a little silence. And Dean needed to remember, even if this was his event, Cas was in control.

Mr. Autry cleared his throat and took a champagne before glancing between them. “So, ah, how did you two meet?”

“At an event just like this one,” Cas said softly, as if daring further comment.

“And it really,” the man glanced at his wife, then back at them, “It really works? I mean how much older are you?”

Cas sighed. It was inevitable that they would get asked questions like this, but it really did nothing to help his already roused anger. “Twenty-two years,” he answered, tugging Dean’s arm gently. “Excuse us.”

They walked to the front of the room where a table was set up, their names displayed at two of the place settings. Dean felt stiff beside him, his movement mechanical, and Cas unhooked Dean’s arm from his own, stopping to face his husband front on.

He leaned in close, putting his ear right beside Dean’s. “I don’t care how old you are, Dean. You are mine. And they all know it too.”

Dean shuddered visibly, but then he seemed to relax, an easy grin spreading across his face. “You sure about that, angel?”

Cas reached up a hand and slowly trailed it down Dean’s cheek, noting how quickly he leaned into the touch. “I’m sure.”

He pulled Dean’s chair out and gently guided him down with his hands on his shoulders before pushing the chair in for him. He took his seat right next to Dean, and then sat in silence as the rest of the table filled up.

The people at these things always looked the same. Black tuxes, plunging necklines, scandal practically oozing off of them.

One of the black tuxes leaned forward and nudged his partner, pointing at Dean. “Hey,” he started, “you’re the one who organized this whole thing, right?”

“That’s me.”

“I think it’s really amazing. What you’re doing for all these women…” he trailed off and Dean nodded slowly, his eyes glittering with amusement. The guy coughed into a handkerchief and then went on, “it must be nice getting to be around them all the time too.”

In an instant, Dean’s eyes narrowed and he raised slightly in his chair. Cas put a steadying hand on his arm and Dean looked over at him, the anger slowly fading from his face. “That’s not what this is about. This about helping survivors of abuse and if you-” he cut off as his voice started to rise and he took a deep breath.

“What Mr. Winchester means,” Cas stepped in smoothly, “Is thank you for coming tonight.”

The gentleman nodded and gave a small shrug before turning to his wife.

“You okay?” Cas said with a hand on Dean’s knee.

“Fine. I know we need their money… but these people are dicks.”

Cas tilted his head and looked up and down Dean’s face. “Yes… yes I suppose they are.”

Dean grinned over at him and picked at the salad that the waiter had just brought. “We are so going out for burgers after this.”

“You’re insatiable,” Cas said with a roll of his eyes. But anyone who knew him well could see the ghost of a smile dancing around his lips.

-------

The cold air bit into them the second they stepped out into the busy New York street. Cas wrapped his coat tighter around himself and slipped Dean’s arm through his own.

A limo pulled up to the curb but Dean looked up at him, and as so often the case with them, he understood exactly what he needed. “We’ll walk,” Cas said to the valet.

Their steps echoed off the walls as they left the din of car horns and squealing tires and entered the relatively quiet alley behind the venue.

“That went well,” Cas started.

Dean’s face lit up like it always did when he talked about the shelter. He wet his lips the answered, “Yeah. It really did. We made $7,000 more than our goal and there was lots of press there. If we follow it up… we should get all eight women into apartments by the end of the month.”

Cas pressed a kiss into Dean’s hair. “I’m glad.”

He could see the next street opening out in front of them, barely one hundred feet away. Cars sped by and people milled about under the glow of the street lights. Barely one hundred feet to go, and Cas felt all of his senses suddenly go on edge. He wasn’t sure what he’d heard, or even what he’d seen, but something was wrong.

The gun he’d tucked in his waistband (despite Dean’s protests) felt cold against his skin, and he reached back for it without thinking. Dean glanced down at the weapon and his eyes widened. Still, he rolled his shoulders back and glanced around the alley, his eyes narrowing as quickly as they’d opened up.

The soft sound of fabric rustling sent them both whirling around, instinctively twisting so they were protecting each other’s backs.

“Hello, boys,” a gravelly voice tinged with a British accent whispered as a man wearing a black trenchcoat emerged from the shadows.

Cas felt his lips part just barely and he sucked in a deep breath. “Crowley.”

“You took something from me today.”

Dean moved next to him, shifting slightly so they were both facing Crowley. He felt Dean pull the knife he kept inside his jacket out and let it hang loosely at his side.

“The groveller you sent to beg forgiveness? Pardon me if I’m not bowing before you,” Cas said, letting his voice drop into its lowest registers.

“Gavin was family.”

Cas kept his face composed, but inside he felt a little thrill. Family? He’d thought it was just another of Crowley’s goons, one of the indisposable goons he called on when he didn’t want to get his hands dirty.

Dean took a step forward and rotated the knife slowly in his hand. “What was he? Some bastard son from an affair with a whore?” He snorted and looked back to Cas with raised eyebrows before turning his attention to Crowley.

Cas had to give him credit. He didn’t even know who Crowley was and still without hesitation he went after him. Although, Dean always did have a temper to him.

Crowley shuffled his feet and didn’t respond, and this time Cas did let his expression show. Just a single quirked eyebrow as he stepped forward to join Dean.

“He is your son,” Cas said, his tone growing more light-hearted. “Well in that case, my sincerest apologies.”

“You took something from me,” Crowley repeated, “and now I’m going to take something from you.”

Cas felt the blow to the back of his head before he could even turn, and immediately pain shot through him, his vision dancing with black spots. Instinctively, he turned to find Dean.

He was grappling with a masked man against the wall, but he seemed okay for the moment, so he turned to the person who had hit him. She tried to slam the walking stick into his head again but he grabbed it, twisting it from her grasp.

He stepped forward, his breath settling and becoming smooth before he struck her on the temple with her own weapon. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her mouth dropped open. For just a second, she stood there, swaying, Then she crumpled to the dirty ground.

To his left, a body dropped, and he felt a cold hand wrap around his heart. But as his eyes readjusted to the dim light he saw Dean standing over the body, his chest rising and falling rapidly as a trail of blood dripped from his knife.

Cas moved toward him, but before he could even take two steps, the cool rush of electricity jolted through his system and everything went black.

-------

When he came to, his cheek was pressed against an advertisement for a weekend getaway to Cabo that had been dirtied by its time outside. He peeled himself off it and sat up, head ringing as he glanced around the alley.

A sleek black cat jumped down from a garbage can and disappeared into the night, but there was nothing else. No sign of Crowley, of the people who had jumped them, of the body Dean had dropped, of-

His train of thought came to a crashing halt as he leapt to his feet glancing around frantically.

Dean was gone.

tag list {as always feel free to ask to be added or removed!}:

@fandomstuff67 @menjiiii @chaoticdean @vought @flowersforcas @starlightcastiel @larryforeveralways @starclaire @tlakhtwritesdestiel @wanderingcas

#i don't write au's #what am i doing #requested by anon #anon #requests #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #spn fan fiction #destiel fanfic #deancas fic #destiel fic #destiel ficlet #my writing

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maximumjinx · 4 years

Text

Ladybug’s Finale Chapter 4

1, 2 3

“What are you doing for lunch?”

Marinette only stared at her blonde desk mate. She must have heard him wrong.

“Eating?” Was the only response she could think of. Fantastic.

Adrien giggled, which was off-putting since Marinette was pretty sure she’s never seen either Adrien or Chat giggle. Adrien usually politely smiles. Chat chuckles. This was new.

“I meant-” He smiled so easily, “can we eat together?”

Marinette wanted to say yes, but she had already promised Fu she would go in for another training session.

However, she was pretty far ahead if her suit and weapons had anything to say about it.

“If you’re free, don’t you want to eat with Nino?”

“Oh, I’m absolutely not free.” Adrien grinned even wider. Marinette was afraid Fu may have broke him. “And he’s not my biggest fan right now.”

“Wait-” she raised an eyebrow, “you’re not free?”

“I have a piano lesson. But I’m tired and feel like breaking my diet with sugar.”

Marinette stifled a laugh.

“Sure, I can help with that.”

“Perfect.”

When lunch rolled around, Marinette was sure they weren’t going to slip past the rest of the class unnoticed.

“Sunshine, I love you boy but you definitely owe me an apology.” Alya stood tall with Lila and Nino behind her, blocking the door. Adrien only groaned. Marinette stood on edge.

“Alya I will, but not until my friend gets an apology first.” Adrien narrowed his eyes and slung an arm around Marinette’s shoulders. She was stiff as a board.

Nino only looked confused, “Are we not all friends?”

Adrien gave him a sad smile and turned to Marinette. Oh, she was supposed to answer this one.

“We are,” she said gently, “but if I’m honest you guys haven’t been very good ones lately.”

Marinette could feel venomous words begins to pile in her mouth. Everything she wanted to say and scream to her classmates and Alya. She clenched her fist and felt her chest grow cold.

“What are you talking about?” Alya defended. “You’re my b-best friend.” She said ‘best’ weakly, glancing at Lila who remained silent. Marinette knew she wasn’t Alya’s best friend, they haven’t been that for a while.

“Marinette, why are trying to tell Adrien that we’re bad friends?” Lila’s lower lip trembled, a perfected move that sent the class into a jumble of overlapping whispers.

“Dude, you turned my bro against me?” Nino looked like he was a puppy that had just been kicked.

“That’s not cool!”

“Aren’t you always preaching unity?”

“Marinette, you’re supposed to accept everyone!”

Marinette barked out a sharp laugh. The class fell into silence. She glanced around the room at people she hadn’t spoken to in months. Turned against an everyday Ladybug in moments with just one line from Rossi.

“I do accept everyone. Except those that have hurt me and my friends.” She looked directly at Lila, who still wore glistening tears. “And right now the only person to have stood up for me, defended me, hell- even spoken to me- is Adrien.”

Alya looked like she wanted to refute that, but months of radio silence between the two girls reminded her that Marinette had a point.

Adrien took his arm off Marinette’s shoulder and instead offered her his elbow.

“Not to end this incredibly uncomfortable conversation short,” he glanced at the class, “but I’m starving.”

She tentatively put her arm around his and the two walked out. Alya moved aside, lips tightly pressed together. Lila sent Marinette a seething glare.

Marinette however, felt a bit better. She felt a small amount of weight relieved from the pit of her stomach. She still has more to say, but Marinette was beginning to feel less numb.

It was still a lot. It felt as if her heart were buzzing awake with pins and needles, after keeping her emotions in check all this time. She glanced at Adrien as they walked to her house.

She wasn’t beginning to get feelings again, right?

—

No, Marinette decided she was not.

Well, at least a little less after watching the boy hungarily and messily scarf down 12 (yes, 12) filled croissants.

“You’re gonna regret that later.”

Adrien only shrugged.

“I’ll die with dignity.” He said, chocolate and jam covering half his face.

Marinette passed him a few napkins, chuckling as he flushed pink and quickly scrubbed his face.

“In my defense, salad isn’t quite as messy.”

“What about dressing?”

Adrien sat straight, placing his ring and middle finger on the bridge of his nose. Marinette could almost see the outline of glasses.

“Too much sugar and oil,” he spoke in a perfect impression of Nathalie, “you’re father expects clear skin for shoots.”

Marinette snorted, “So you had rabbit food? That explains a lot.”

“Like what?”

“Like why you looked miserable 99% of the time.”

“Touché.”

The two sat in her living room, not quite going into her bedroom not for fear of finding embarrassing, but it would be hard to explain why she had a detailed chart of akumas and Gabriel Agreste in her room.

“So-“ she knew why, but she wanted to ask, “Why grow a spine today?”

“Ouch,” Adrien smirked, “that was harsh.”

“Yeah, well.”

Adrien nodded. It was fair. Why today? After his talk with Ladybug, giving up Plagg, and training with Master Fu he decided why stop there. If he was going to change into someone worthy of a miraculous he had to start with the person that got Fu’s attention.

He could hardly tell Marinette though.

“I can’t think of an answer that would satisfy you.” He warned.

“Then how about the truth?” She turned her body on the couch and waited.

Adrien sighed, leaning back to let the food inside him settle. He turned his head to face her, his hair beginning to curl around his cheeks and a top his head.

Marinette blinked. He looked exactly like Chat like this.

“Guilt, for being a bad friend when I knew what Lila was doing bothered you.” He dropped his eyes from Marinette’s gaze. “Not bothering- it hurt you. I’m also trying to change myself. I learned something recently that really put my world on its head. It changed my perspective on who I was and who I want to be. I want to be better than ‘Adrien Agreste’.”

“But that’s you, that’s who you are.”

He shook his head.

“I dislike half the things I do. I don’t eat, don’t dress comfortably or how I like, and I don’t speak out. I didn’t against my father and I guess against what was happening to you. I can never say sorry enough.”

“Well, I didn’t reach out either.” Marinette gave a weak laugh. Adrien watched Marinette fiddle with her food, and sat up.

“You can talk to me. Tell me about these last few months. If you want to, that is.”

Marinette shrugged.

“I got a lot done, like how I used to before Alya and you came to our school.”

“I already knew you can be productive.” He nudged her gently.

“I guess it was a little lonely.” She didn’t want pity. So she didn’t look at him. “I missed class events. They didn’t invite me because my invite got lost or was sent to the wrong number. Then they didn’t invite me because they forgot. Then, they just...didn’t.”

She steeled herself, and kept going.

“They didn’t talk to me. They didn’t come to things they promised beforehand, or help me on projects, or include me in anything! Every single thing I’ve done for them, because I wanted to, because they were my friends it all disappeared like none of it mattered.” She had to calm down. She felt her body begin to warm up, and dissolve the numb she had put around herself. “I...didn’t matter.”

She didn’t know if Adrien responded, she was too focused on stopping the negative thoughts. She had to be numb, Hawkmoth can’t akumatize numb.

Adrien opened his mouth, but before anything came out the two heard a large crash followed by screams on the street.

They whipped around to face one another, eyes wide.

“Akuma.” They both breathed out.

“I have to go!” Adrien jumped up, immediately wincing. He was beginning to regret his sugar spree.

He felt a lacking on his finger. He had to get to Fu as soon as possible.

“Yup, go ahead, be safe!” Marinette rushed, all while almost pushing him out the door. Once the lock clicked she let out a breath and a small smile. “See you soon Kitty.”

“I know I totally made this decision, but I’m so damn tired and running without a suit on through impending doom after busting my ass this morning is a terrible consequence.” Adrien wheezed, finally arriving at Master Fu. Plagg phased through the door with the ring immediately, before Adrien could raise an arm to knock.

“Took you long enough kid.”

Adrien couldn’t take a breath to glare at his kwami, only muttered a Claws Out.

Chat Noir raced to where the screams sounded the loudest, spotting his partner’s dark red hood in the midst of the chaos.

“You look winded.” She smirked when he landed.

“No way,” he gasped, “I just like taking deep breaths of air. All at once.”

She snorted, then pointed to where a dark purple figure was in the center. The Akuma was levitating in the air, black streaks coming from their eyes and down their face and neck. The Akuma’s power wasn’t completely known yet, it seemed to be hitting people with a beam, but there was no physical reaction from the victims.

“You think it’s Rossi again?” Chat asked, unable to make out who the Akuma was, however it did look like it had a feminine shape.

“Then the city would be on fire.” Ladybug looked at those running away. It seemed that everyone hit was collapsing, some hunched over and others openly sobbing. “What is she doing to them?”

“Let’s dodge her beams and kick her butt?”

“Sounds like any other fight.” Ladybug pursed her lips. This akuma didn’t feel right.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir!” The akuma screamed, desperately into the air. “To make this pain stop, I need your miraculous!”

Chat wanted to run in, claws blazing, but Ladybug looked hesitant. She wrapped her arm around his waist and swung them to a rooftop on the side, out of reach but within ear shot.

“What are you doing to these people?” Ladybug shouted, the victims beginning to wail.

The akuma only cried, without the petty malice of other Akumas. “They’re experiencing their worst guilt ten times over. All their regrets, their mistakes are flooding them once again.”

Chat’s eyes widened. “Oh geez.”

“Okay we really have to avoid that.” Ladybug muttered. She lunged, searching for something to break. The Akumas form was skintight. She scoffed, Hawkmoth needed to upgrade his designs.

“Oh god, he’s a freaking designer. What the hell, Agreste.”

“Meowch Bug, what did I do?” Chat called, whipping his baton towards the akuma. Fu taught him earlier, the cat miraculous is supposed to handle the brunt of the work. Distractions were fine, but his job was to hold them down. The baton hit the akuma in the gut, wrenching her out of the sky and slamming her into the pavement.

Ladybug could now see her closely. Her suit looked like melted plastic, blues and purples bleeding into one another and held together with what looked like black string tied around her waist over and over.

“Where’s the akuma?”Chat placed a glove on the string, and suddenly screamed in agony.

“Chat?” Ladybug suddenly panicked, seeing her partner put a bloody hand away. The material of the Akuma’s suit immediately spiked into sharp, glass-like shards upon contact. It has been the first thing to have pierced through the magic fabric of their suits.

“What the fuck?” Chat immediately jumped back, the akuma breaking out into a broken laugh.

“You can’t stop me. I’m Remorse incarnate.” She hiccuped, flying into the air once again. “My emotions are my weapon. My guilt is your downfall.”

Ladybug pulled Chat out, ducking behind a building as he tended to his hand.

“How’s your hand?” She could see it begin to heal, the leather of his suit building over the torn skin.

“It’s fine, I’m worried about Plagg though.” He furrowed his brows.

“What is it?”

“I got a good look at her.” He turned to Ladybug, clearly upset. “It’s Alya Cesaire.”

--TAGLIST--

@shannaro-sakura @uninspired-writer @magic-miraculous @mividaexo @juhavs @salsyy301 @liamnl @reblog-trasher@autumnhunter1 @grimmhallow31 @f0xylegs @amelyhot @marichat00@peachedpocky @sturchling @elmokingkong @corabeth11 @akana-sama@ephemeral-firefly @dani-ari @whatsupwithjinx @bobothyross @introverted-book-enthusiast @saltystickofbutter @kristycocopop @s-tabcra-b @yes-friends-it-is-i @razzledazzle247 @rosesareskyblue @themamaravenclaw @sili-a @mysweetchaton @silvergold-swirl @internet-or-sleep @zoeytheweeb @friedchickening @crayon-lord-kyksei @subtlyundead @gwennex

#hahaha cliff hangers #I love asks #so please send me some #ladybug's finale #maximumjinx #miraculous ladybug #ladybug #chat noir #ml salt #comment tag if you want to be tagged #salt fic #plot fic #Lila rossi #alya cesaire #Marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #adrienette #ladynoir #writing

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goldenfawnwriting · 4 years

Text

Birds of a Feather-Hawks pic pt 2

Summary: Finch was a lowly secretary with seniority when she was suddenly promoted to be the #2 hero’s personal assistant. As they get to know each other its apparent theres tension, so how will regular work go between them?

Finch lead the way down to the lobby and out of the building before Hawks caught up to her, his usual leisurely gate being interrupted.

“I know a great place down the block if you’d like.”

He offered. She nodded to him silently and her dainty hand reached up to grasp his upper arm as he lead the way. A shiver came over him, his wings trembling slightly for a moment as they made their way down the walkway. The afternoon traffic was dense but Hawks made sure that Finch’s hand was always on his arm as they cut through people and finally made it to the restaurant.

As they were lead to a private dining area Finch almost let go of his arm but instead his hand came up to hold her own to his arm, ensuring she was still beside him. She blushed hard and he finally let her go to pull out her chair for her. After she had slid onto the seat he made his way to his own, across the table.

“So explain what you were talking about before.”

“There’s a camera in the window of your office, its small but it points right in, like its watching you.”

He bristled again before giving it some thought, leaving the room silent. Then his eyes widened as he came to the realization that it was the commission’s doing. They were watching him since he had a new PA, or have they been watching him since before and he just never knew? It was unlikely, since he always left out of the window. How did he not notice it himself by now?

“I’m sure it’s nothing interesting, don’t waste your time worrying over it, I’ll talk to the building manager about it and see what it’s all about.”

He assured her, shrugging off the situation. Her brows furrowed from across the table, but she took his word for it and let it go, opting to change the conversation.

“So you come here a lot then?”

She questioned before there was a knock on the door and in came a waitress. Finch noticed her skirt was rolled up twice, maybe two and a half times, to make it shorter. She must’ve known who she was serving because her hair was left down, the dent in the back a sign of it being held up at one point. As she passed Finch and went straight to Hawks the strong scent of a flowery perfume invaded Finch’s senses, clouding her brain momentarily.

“Will you be getting the usual sir~?”

She purred. Finch wondered if she hadn’t noticed her yet, or if Hawks was just a pig and tipped them more if they flirted and hiked their skirts up. Either way, Finch couldn’t help the way her face contorted with distaste at the lack of manners in the room.

“U-uh, ya that’s fine, what did you want Finch?”

The waitress finally turned to Finch, eyeing her up and down before deeming her unimportant and turning back to Hawks.

“She probably doesn’t know what we have here.. She’s probably never been here, I’ll get her a menu.”

She mumbled to the man, turning and leaving the room afterwards. Finch’s face flamed with shock at the woman’s audacity. She didn’t even address Finch, only the man across the table. She had never felt so disrespected in her life.

“I- uh, I don’t know what that was about, it’s normally not like that at all!”

Finch rolled her eyes in reply and the waitress came back with a menu and a drink for Hawks. After looking the menu over briefly she addressed the waitress with disdain.

“The winter berry salad and a water.”

She flipped the menu to hand it to the waitress, looking straight at her, Finch’s wings bristling. The waitress looked off, taking the menu and leaving before Hawks addressed the unusual display.

“Woah birdie, someone’s on your bad side huh?”

He chuckled. Finch’s face reddened and she puffed her cheeks in annoyance. She didn’t want to come off as snotty but she was definitely feeling a little irked at the waitress’ intentions. What baffled her was that it made her so mad for little to no reason. Although the waitress was ignoring her, most of her irritation came from the display she was putting on for Hawks and the attention it was getting her.

“I just don’t appreciate what she was doing.”

Hawks snorted and Finch had to refrain from sending him daggers with her eyes. He obviously knew the girl well. After that it was silent from his end of the table, no more comments being made as they were brought their food and ate silently. When they had finished their meal Hawks paid, giving the waitress a wink, and they left.

On their way back Finch didn’t say anything to the man walking behind her, simply making her way down the walk, pulling a compact out of her purse and reapplying her favorite pinkish red lipstick. Hawks grabbed the door for her when they got back to the agency and she made her way inside and to the elevators.

“Aw come on pretty bird-”

The door to the elevator opened and she stepped in, pressing the close door button before Hawks got in. He stopped the door with his arm, hopping in with a surprised look.

“Did you just try to close the door on me?”

Finch blushed hard, she felt childish but she was still simmering from their experience at lunch. The doors closed on the both of them and Hawks contemplated for a moment. They had a good minute before they got to the office from the ground floor. This was why he always just flew up to the window.

Finch tried to keep her eyes off Hawks with everything in her but the elevator became increasingly cramped with both them and their wings inside. As he took up more and more space with his she folded hers into her body as much as she could before finally she snapped.

“Can you please stop being obnoxious and fold up your wings?”

She complained. He smirked at her and gave a little whistle.

“Aw poor thing, are they too big for you?”

He folded his wings up slightly and Finch muttered under her breath.

“You’re ridiculous.”

Apparently he had heard it because he laughed, folding his wings completely before bringing his body into her personal space instead. He stood in front of her, tucking a tiny lock of her bangs back behind her ear.

“And you’re gorgeous.”

He winked. Finch’s face erupted into a blush, her ears getting hot as she brought her hand up to cover her face, looking down towards the ground. When the doors finally opened she left the elevator first, making her way down the hall without the pro hero. As he made his way slowly behind her he noticed the brown hair pin holding her hair up into a french twist. It was dull, pretty lame if you asked him.

He found himself contemplating what color would look best on the woman, red was obviously a favorite of his, maybe blue like the flowers he got her? Or emerald green... or maybe even a royal purple. He thought about jewel tones and how they would bring out the color of her wings, the adorable little white specks in the plumage. He shook the thought from his head as they got back to the office.

Finch sat down at her desk, booting up her computer as she eyed the camera in the window. Hawks had told her it was nothing but a part of her still thought it was weird. What did Hawks do with his other personal assistant that there was a camera there? As she began typing out forms on her PC she caught Hawks eyeing her, leaned back in his chair, his feet up on his desk.

“Y’know if you’re not busy you could always help me with these forms.”

She suggested. He gave a snort as a reply and brought his feet down off his desk.

“Actually, I’m incredibly busy right now.”

She paused, looking around her computer to look him up and down.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yup.”

“Doing what?”

He chuckled as he replied.

“Watching a pretty lady type.”

Finch blushed again and huffed, standing up to walk over to his desk and snatch the ink pad and his stamp from it. They all had to be stamped by him personally but, she knew she would end up doing the job. He laughed at her display as she turned around, bristling her wings to show her annoyance as she made her way back to her desk. His playful demeanor was refreshing but a little annoying at times.

She still thought things would work between them, work wise. If all she really had to do was a bunch of paperwork she would be more than fine, that’s what she normally did in her previous position anyway.

As she blazed through the paperwork Hawks fiddled around with stuff on his desk until a walkie talkie on his desk came to life with a buzz.

“REQUESTING PROS IN THE AREA FOR BACKUP...”

It gave a location as Hawks jumped up, throwing on his glasses before glancing over to Finch.

“Be back soon sweetheart~”

He saluted her and grabbed the walkie talkie, taking off out the window. Finch jumped up and went to the window, watching him fall for a moment before his wings flew out, the red plumage distracting her for a moment as he flew off into the city. When he was out of sight Finch paused for just a moment longer at the window, wondering what he was going to be met with in the big city. When she finally snapped out of her stupor she made her way back to her desk.

the rest of the day she spent by herself, every know and then getting a call wondering about the hero’s whereabouts and when he would be available for a meeting. As she scheduled meetings, finished paperwork, and answered calls she found herself using up all her spare time thinking about the pro hero’s giant wings. The red hues took up her mind, distracting her from typing for a moment or making her forget for a moment what she was meant to be doing. It was like a dream and she wondered how it would feel to let herself fall, knowing that her wings would expand, and she would soar through the air.

A longing feeling set deep in her chest as she thought about it over and over. Would it be like standing in a wind tunnel? Or would it feel smooth and natural? She let her thoughts run wild as she imagined it.

At the end of the day Hawks still wasn’t back and she sighed as she set to cleaning up her desk a little and packing her bag. As she reached down for her purse there was a ding on her computer and she looked back up to see an email. She opened it, with curiosity, to find another form for her to fill out about the mission he apparently just completed. She bit her lip, reading over the summary of the situation.

It was a case of arson, by a villain trying to destroy a different villains base. They had caught both villains and doused the fire, no casualties. She felt a sense of pride for her boss’ accomplishment and smiled before she jumped in surprise, her heart banging at her ribcage as Hawks stepped in from the window sill. Her hand flew to her chest, a little squeak of surprise coming from her.

Hawks laughed as he stepped inside, shaking out his wings a little and brushing his hair out of his face. As he looked at the woman across the room he noted her rosy face and how he had shocked her.

“Sorry birdie, didn’t mean to scare ya.”

He apologized, smirking. She huffed and gave him a look.

“You look like you’ve seen better days, sir.”

His wings puffed slightly at the nickname and he felt himself blush a little. That was a new one.

“Ya, it got a little close there for a moment.”

He chuckled. She gave him a smile, a slight sense of maternal pride hitting her. She didn’t know why but she felt so proud of him for doing a good job. It was then that she noticed the sun setting and realized she was going to be late getting home.

“Well,”

She sighed,

“I’ve got to get going home, but I hope you’re alright.”

“Oh uh, ya I’m fine. Let me help you with your jacket.”

He offered, taking the fabric from the back of her chair. He held it out for her and she smiled slightly as she slipped into it, the slits in the back of the coat moving smoothly around her wings. He let go of the coat once she slipped into it and she turned to face him, thanking him before grabbing her bag.

“Well uh, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

She chuckled at his questioning tone.

“Uh, ya I work here Hawks.”

She sassed. He smirked and chuckled.

“Well no duh.”

She rolled her eyes with a smile and made her way to the door and then the elevator, waving bye to the man as the elevator door closed.

^^^

For the next week everything was relatively normal, Finch went to work, did paperwork, took calls, sometimes Hawks would get called out, and then she’d go home.

As she came into the office this specific morning she knew things would be different as soon as she spotted a box on her desk. It was small, a little long, and her curiosity peaked when she noticed Hawks’ handwriting on a note on top of it.

“Heya birdie, I won’t be by till later today but here’s a little gift for being such a good PA”

Her brows furrowed in curiosity and she picked up the small box, taking of the top and pulling back some tissue paper before she gasped.

A beautiful hair pin laid on a cushion, made of polished gold, and at the top, a mosaic of emeralds, jade, and moonstone. She picked it up carefully, feeling the weightiness and knew it had to have been expensive. She placed it back in the box, wrapping it and closing it carefully. There was no way she could accept such an extravagant gift, it was just inappropriate to do in a professional setting.

She set the box back on her desk carefully and made a note to herself to return it to him when he decided to show up. her regular hair pin worked fine anyway, there was nothing wrong with it, and besides, the new one was so fancy to just wear to the office, what if she messed it up somehow? Or even worse, lost it? She simply could not accept it.

As she worked she thought of more and more reasons as to why she wouldn’t be able to accept the hair pin and when Hawks finally swooped into the office she stood to address him.

“Hawks, what is this?”

The smirk on his face gave him away but he still questioned her.

“What is what?”

“You know what- the hair pin!”

He shrugged at her and pulls this glasses off, setting them on his desk.

“I can’t accept this.”

He didn’t reply at first, Finch wondered if he was thinking of what to say or if he was just going to take the pin back easily. The latter was proven wrong when he turned towards her and spoke.

“And why not? It’s just a gift from a friend.”

“Hawks, you’re my boss. If I take this and it gets out that you gave it to me the whole office would be suspicious. I could be fired.”

“Then tell them it’s from family or something, I just think you’d look amazing wearing it is all~”

He purred, coming closer. She blushed and awaited him, starting to say something when she was cut off by his thumb slipping over her bottom lip as he pulled her chin to look up at him.

“S-sir-”

With his other hand he reached around her, pulling the brown hair pin from her hair with ease, her hair falling down around her shoulder like silk.

“Now you have to wear it.”

He whispered, getting close to her ear as his hand on her chin moved into her hair, his lips dangerously close to her ear. Finch could feel her face and ears heat with embarrassment, her face going redder than the hero’s wings.

When Hawks pulled away a second later she covered her mouth with her hand, her hair curtaining her face and hiding it. She heard the man chuckle, walking back to the other side of the room, her hair pin his hostage, which he slipped into his pocket.

“S-sir, please give me-”

“Oh no gorgeous, your lame pin is mine now, you can either use the one I got you, or leave your hair down of course.”

He suggested. She puffed her cheeks in annoyance and told herself that she wouldn’t use the hair pin he gifted her, instead letting it lay in it’s box, untouched on her desk. She sat back down on her desk chair, beginning to type out more forms. Hawks watched her from the corner of his eye, a little upset he was getting the silent treatment.

As the rest of the day progressed Finch became more and more annoyed with her hair falling into her face but she refused to wrap her hair up with the pin. The last thing she wanted to do was give him the satisfaction of her using the damned thing.

As she struggled her way through paperwork, Hawks was watching from afar, making note of how stubborn she was. It had been a couple hours now since she told him she wouldn’t use the pin and he couldn’t help but be a little annoyed.

Why wouldn’t she just use the damned thing? He spent so much time finding the perfect hair pin, one that suited his likings, one that he knew she’d look stunning in. It was exactly what he was thinking of when he noticed the brown one the week before. He took great care picking out the gems, finding ones that were shiny and beautiful. Why didn’t she want his gift?

His wings puffed up as he thought and, without noticing, he got the attention of the girl on the other side of the room as she hung up to the phone.

“Why are you all puffed up?”

She questioned, getting up from her seat and making her way to him. She circled his form, eyeing him up and down.

“Are you hurt? What’s stressing you out?”

He grumbled inwardly at the fact that his coworker also had wings, and so she knew what caused them to bristle and puff up. He bit his lip and hesitated, wondering if he should be honest or give an innocent lie.

“Why won’t you use the hair pin? Do you not like it?”

Finch was taken aback. All this over this dumb hair pin?

“Of course I like it Hawks, it’s absolutely beautiful, but I can’t accept it for the simple fact that you’re my boss..”

She paused and looked off before continuing.

“It would make it look like I was... erm.. having inappropriate relations with you or something...”

It was silent for a moment before Hawks laughed loudly, leaning over and supporting himself against his desk as he did so. Finch gave a surprised look before the annoyance set in. He really didn’t get how it was being a woman at a big agency like this did he? Every woman in her position was accused of sleeping her way to the spot, without a doubt, and she was doing everything in her power to make sure no rumors would begin.

“I sincerely doubt that would happen, Dove-”

“The rumor has gone around with every PA you’ve had since the agency opened Sir.”

His laughing cut off abruptly. Did he really have no idea any of that was a thing? Finch was sure there were already rumors going around about her without her parading around with expensive gifts and such, she couldn’t imagine the amplification it would cause if she accepted his gift.

“Are you serious?”

She nodded at her shocked boss. Honestly, she wondered how he didn’t know considering it effected all his PAs so far. He was silent for a moment before sighing and looking at her.

“Listen, the hairpin is for you and it’s yours to wear whenever you want. I’m not taking it back. If you do decide to wear it around, I’ll take care of any nasty words that may come about, how about that Dove?”

She looked at him and swallowed, wringing her wrists. She just didn’t know if it would really be ok. There was no way he could just be rid of any rumors that began that easily. She didn’t know wether to just trust him or to save herself the probably damage to her reputation, and deny his gift.

“I can see you’re thinking pretty bird. Just trust me ok?”

She sighed and he broke into a smile, grabbing her by the shoulders and leading her to the middle of the room before going to grab the hairpin. When he returned to her and came up behind her, twisting her hair up and pinning it in place. She turned back towards him and patted the back of her head, making sure it was secure before giving him a shy smile.

“Thank you, sir..”

His eyelids were hooded as he looked at her with a predatory gaze, as if she had just sold herself to him. She was a little suspicious.

“Don’t sweat it birdie, you look amazing.”

As he made his way back to his seat he took a silent, deep breath. Something in him was going a little wild over the fact that she had finally accepted it, she was wearing his gift. It was almost as if he had marked his territory in some primal, animalistic way. His pupils retracted into slits as he looked at her from across the room and he had to blink away a fog in his brain. It was so distracting to see her turn in her chair and the green gems reflect, so near the same amazing view of her wings. It was eye-catching to see such a pretty pairing, he did a great job.

At the end of the day he helped her with her coat again when she admitted that she had to meet with a friend after work.

“Who?”

“A childhood friend, she's a hero too, you may know her, Starlight?”

He searched his brain fro a memory of the name but came up empty handed.

“Doesn’t quite ring a bell.”

“Well, we’re going drinking and-”

“Who else is going with you?”

“Uh.. it’s just us two?”

She gave him a weird look as she fixed her purse on her shoulder.

“Well, just be careful. Two women out alone in the city... Here why don’t you just take my number in case something happens.”

He offered, grabbing her phone from the desk top and adding his contact. When he was finished he handed the phone to her.

“Just be safe, wouldn’t want anything to happen to my sweet little PA now would we?”

She blushed and chuckled as she made her way to the elevator.

“Thanks sir but, I think we’ll be alright.”

She assured him as the doors closed.

#mha hawks #hawks angst #bnha hawks #keigo takami #bnha keigo #fanfic #fanfiction

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