#WHAT THE FUCK SHAY THE HELL HE LOOKS BEAUTIFUL
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Persona 3 Reload - Ryoji Mochizuki
#ryoji mochizuki#persona 3 reload#makoto yuki#minato arisato#p3r#persona 3#OH MY GOD HOLY SHIT OH MY GOD#OH M#RYOJI.#O#WHAT THE FUCK SHAY THE HELL HE LOOKS BEAUTIFUL#HOLY SHIT I NEED TO CALM DOWN#compendiumnotebook
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The Reel Deal
Author: TwinOne | Artist: Kit Shay
Posting on Sunday March 31
Dean has always had a plan. Study hard, find a job, fall in love, and live life to the fullest. The first two worked out well for him, but falling in love has been a pain in the ass. His roommate’s obnoxious prattling about his online boyfriend is not helping Dean feel any better.
Then, on Valentine’s Day, a handsome blue eyed stranger knocks on his door and throws himsef into Dean’s arms, hugging him like a long lost lover.
Dean has no fucking clue who this man is but he’ll take the hug no questions asked. When the man calls him “Aaron” though, he instantly knows something is very, very wrong.
Keep reading for a sneak preview!
A knock on the door distracted Dean from his Valentine’s date with Godzilla.
“Shit.” He looked around for the remote, pushing quilts around and searching under cushions. “One second!” He said loudly when he heard the person knock again. Finally finding the remote and pausing the movie Dean looked down on the clothes and shrugged. Whoever was on his doorstep would have to get over the fact that he was wearing hotdog pajama pants and a Stormlight Archives hoodie in the middle of the afternoon.
Dean opened his apartment door to see the most gorgeous man standing awkwardly in front of him. He was wearing a beige trench coat over a navy blue suit, white button up shirt and a bright blue tie that was tied backwards. Dean could not help but stare at this beautiful man.
“Hello.” The blue eyed man said with a huge smile on his face.
“Uh. Hi?” Dean answered. Did he know this man from somewhere? He would’ve remembered him for sure.
Dean’s confusion didn’t seem to matter to the man because he simply walked over to him and hugged him. Strong arms surrounded him, the smell of old books and soap all around him making it impossible for Dean to stop himself from wrapping his arms around the stranger. After a few quiet moments the man released him and stepped back.
“I cannot believe you are here.” He said with a soft voice. “I thought you said you had work today? I hoped your roommate would let me in and I would surprise you when you got back.”
Dean scratched the back of his neck in confusion. Who the hell was this man? Surprise him? He seemed to think they had met before, but Dean had no recollection of the fact. “Umm, I’m sorry but, who are you?” He finally asked.
“What do you mean, Aaron?” The man said, the smile on his face seemed to slowly morph into a grimace of confusion.
"Aaron? Na, man. Aaron’s my roommate.”
(continue reading on Ao3 on Sunday March 31)
#destiel#deancas#destiel fic#deancas fic#destiel art#deancas art#pinefest 2024#pinefest previews#2024 Dean/Cas Pinefest#author: TwinOne#artist: Kit Shay#SchoolNurse!Dean#Teacher!Castiel#catfishing
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“Damn,” Lance mutters to himself, craning his neck as he takes in the building in front of him. The tall, beautiful building. The expensive building, Lordie. They’ve come a long way since they were bunked up in their piece of shit studio apartment, 19 years old and stressed and completely unsure about what they were doing in life.
Lance snorts. Well. Maybe they haven’t changed that much.
Reminding himself how excited he is to see Hunk’s new place, he heads through the sleek glass doors, nodding at the doorman — an actual doorman, what the fuck — and hauling ass to make the elevator. He rides up to the twentieth floor, which seems to take a thousand years. That probably has less to do with the actual elevator and more to do with the fact that there are six other people in this elevator and five of them are wearing fancy suits, but whatever.
He steps out onto the quiet, carpeted hallway, looking for apartment 2014. He finds it quickly, peeking under the welcome mat like Hunk said, beyond relieved to see the silver key. He slides it through the lock, opening it easily, and pokes his head through the door.
“Dandelion?” he calls softly. He’s expecting the excited howling of Hunk’s big dumb cat, then the sound of his little paws clambering on the floor as he speeds down the hallway, but there’s nothing. Lance shrugs, stepping all the way into the apartment and locking the door behind him. Hunk must have taken Dandelion with him to see Shay.
Humming to himself, Lance heads for the kitchen. He ate before he got on the train, but that was almost two hours ago, and besides — Hunk’s fridge is always stocked. At best there will be leftovers of whatever genius Hunk has cooked up in the past couple days, and at worst there’ll be fifteen dollar exotic strawberries that Lance will steal shamelessly.
Hunk is so lucky to have Lance as a best friend, honestly.
Opening the fridge, however, is a massive disappointment. There’s not a single fancy schmancy ingredient in sight, and certainly no delicious leftovers. In fact the fridge is almost completely barren, only a carton of eggs, random condiments, and a bunch of veggies. The veggies make sense, but the fridge still feels off, somehow. But there are ingredients enough to make a killer sandwich, so Lance helps himself.
Ignoring the countless warnings Hunk has given him over the years to not eat and walk so he doesn’t get crumbs everywhere, Lance decides to give himself a tour of the apartment. It’s leagues better than anything either of them have every lived in before, which is nice. Lance is unbelievably proud of Hunk for his promotion — he deserves it and more. He most definitely deserves the sick view, 20 storeys in the air, the crown moulded ceilings, the general cleanliness. The sparseness of the place is definitely a little odd for Hunk, because he’s more of a knickknack guy, but he’s only been at this place for a couple months. Makes sense that he hasn’t unpacked yet.
Lance perks up at the sound of the key in the lock. It’s a little early, yet, almost a half hour before Hunk said he’d be here, but hey — the earlier the better! Lance has missed living near his best friend.
Quickly scarfing down his sandwich — he was so bullshitting before and if Hunk catches him red handed he’s going to die and he knows it — he sprints to the kitchen, hiding just behind the bend of the wall. He snickers quietly for himself, tense in wait. He’s going to scare the shit out of Hunk, and it’s going to be great.
“— yeah, yeah, I know, but I’ve got shit to do tonight, Shiro. I don’t have time.”
Lance freezes.
That’s not Hunk.
“What? No! I’m not sacrificing Survivor to go to some bar, dude! Why the hell would I trade chilling out with Kosmo on the couch and watching people be fools in the wilderness for dodging drunk people?”
Maybe Hunk brought a friend over, Lance thinks to himself. Hunk’s a friendly guy. It’s possible.
“Yeah, yeah.” The mystery man’s voice goes high pitched, mocking. “I have no friends and need to get out more, blah blah blah. hear you, Shiro.”
Lance’s heart pounds. So much for that theory. He peeks around the corner, expecting some dude in a ski mask and dressed in black, holding a gun and a duffel bag. Instead he sees a guy, dressed in a white t-shirt — a tight white tee, may Lance add — and basketball shorts, maybe a couple inches taller than Lance, sporting what Lance can only call an honest-to-God mullet.
Well, at least Lance got the duffel bag part right.
The man’s voice turns exasperated. “I am taking you seriously, Shiro. Promise. I’ll go — I’ll do something social tomorrow, okay?” The man turns slightly, so Lance has full view of his profile, and the arm holding up his phone.
The, uh, fairly toned arm.
“Yeah. I will. Love you, too.”
Oh no.
This intruder is hot.
The hot intruder hangs up, shoving his phone in his pocket. Then, faster than Lance can react (look, no one prepares you for a burglar that looks like a Greek god, okay? Lance is a little stupefied and he feels that it’s justified. This man’s jawline alone is affecting his heart worse than the fear that he’s gonna get murdered for witnessing a crime), the man turns into the kitchen.
Face to face with Lance.
For a moment neither of them say anything, completely frozen, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. And then the hot intruder blinks, says “Shit!” loudly enough to echo, and reaches for his pocket.
Lance, fearing the worst, screeches at the top of his lungs, and sprints for the bedroom, shoving past the intruder.
“Get out!” he screams, slamming and locking the door behind him. “Get out get out get out!”
“What the — you get out!” the intruder screams back. He slams into the door, banging on it as he juggles the handle. “Why are you here?”
“Dear God, please help me.” Lance isn’t much of a religious person, really, but all those boring years of Easter Mass growing up must have affected him in some way, because he’s halfway ready to start praying for real. Obviously, this man had quietly observed how smart and handsome and awesome Hunk looks, and assumed he’s a rich supergenius, and has now come to rob him blind as he’s out of the house. What this horrible criminal didn’t expect was Lance, here to visit his friend at his new place. And now that Lance has witnessed him, bare-faced and red-handed, he is going to murder Lance — to death — to cover his crime.
“I’m calling the police!” Lance screeches. He doesn’t have a whole lot of faith in the fuckers, but at this point they’re better than nothing. Maybe they’ll bring a forensic team to help solve the crime of Leandro Agustín Nuñez Carmen Esposita-McClain, far too young and beautiful to die, murdered tragically.
There’s a pause from the other side of the door, almost shocked.
“Why the fuck would you be calling the cops?” demands the man, half incredulous. “I’m calling the cops, you trespassing weirdo!”
Something like cold realization begins to build up in Lance’s gut. “I’m calling the cops because you’re trying to rob this apartment and maybe murder me?” he suggests.
“Rob the — murder you?” the man sputters. “This is my fucking apartment!”
Before he can talk himself out of it, Lance unlocks the door and yanks it open, face to face with Mr Tall, Mulleted, and Handsome.
“Do you,” he says nervously, face a little red, “happen to have a neighbour named Hunk Garrett?”
The man blinks at him. “Yeah. He’s across the hall. 2041.”
A long, agonizing moment of silence. Both of them just look at each other in pure bewilderment. (Well, Lance will admit that his bewilderment is not quite so pure. There might be some healthy admiration and lust swimming around there somewhere. This man is very attractive, and Lance has a thing for people who are angry with him. It’s a complex.)
“In my defense,” Lance says eventually, “I’m dyslexic.”
———
Luckily for Lance, Keith — the hot not-intruder — is very understanding of the entire ideal.
By that, Lance means he laughs himself to tears, right there on the hallway floor.
“There’s no way this is happening in real life,” Keith wheezes. “There’s no way you could fuck up this bad.”
Lance scowls. “Oh, piss off. I flipped two measly digits, and you’re the dumbass who keeps your house key under your welcome mat! Who even does that!”
It takes Keith several tries to calm himself down. The first few times he seems like he’s normal, but then he looks at Lance’s grouchy face and loses it all over again. The worst part is that he has a fucking gorgeous laugh, so Lance is having a really hard time staying angry.
“I’m —” Keith takes a deep, shuddering breath — “I’m sorry, dude. Lance. Really. I don’t mean to laugh at you. It’s just — I was just telling my brother that nothing happens here, you know? And then this.”
Lance softens, finally allowing himself a small smile. He offers a hand to Keith, who takes it and pulls himself up. “Yeah, I guess it’s kind of a one-in-a-lifetime thing, huh?”
Keith hums. “Yeah.”
Keith’s hand is calloused, along the heel and flex of his palm. His hand is also very warm, like Lance has his own personal hand-heater. But Lance is, if he’s being entirely honest, paying way more attention to his eyes — they’re the most peculiar shade of indigo, so dark that Lance thought they were black, at first. But no, the darkest shade of blue-purple Lance has ever seen. He has freckles too, though barely. Just a couple spattered on the bridge of his nose. And the —
The sound of the Swedish chef from the Muppets over trap music startles Lance out of his reverie — Hunk’s ringtone. He pulls away from Keith’s hand, from his very close personal space, God, and hurriedly answers.
“Yeah, Hunk?”
His voice cracks seven times. He’s not proud of it.
“Where are you, dude? You were supposed to get here earlier than me but I’ve been here for twenty minutes. Did you get lost?”
Lance looks at his watch, then curses loudly. Has he really been in Keith’s apartment for nearly an hour? Fuck!
“I didn’t get — I just lost track of time — I’m not — I’ll be right there,” he rushes out. “See you in five, okay?”
He hangs up before Hunk has the chance to respond, still cursing endlessly.
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He grips his hair with one hand, other clenching his phone. He flicks his eyes back to Keith, who looks way more amused than he has any right to. “I have — I’ve gotta go. Now.”
“To the right apartment this time,” Keith surmises, grinning.
Lance flushes. “That would be correct, yes. I’m meeting my friend for dinner.”
“Hunk Garrett. Chef extraordinaire. You mentioned.”
Like a dumbass and before he can stop himself, Lance blurts: “You should come with me.”
Keith raises an amused eyebrow. “I’m not an expert in social cues or anything, but I don’t think you can invite me over to other people’s houses.” He chuckles. “Although you don’t seem to have a problem showing up to places randomly, huh?”
“Shut up!”Lance checks his watch again, then bites his lip. “I really have to go.” There’s nothing stopping him. He has no reason to stay, really. But for some reason he doesn’t want to go.
“Hey, give me your number,” Keith says after a moment.
“Why?” Lance asks on reflex. Very quickly he wants to smack himself for being a fool.
Keith smiles wryly. “Well, I dunno. Once I emotionally recover from you breaking and entering into my apartment, I might decide I want to press charges. Better get your number just in case.”
Lance laughs. He takes the offered phone, punching in his number and contact, putting a heart after his name after only a beat of hesitation.
“I’ll text you,” Keith says, walking Lance to the door. For the first time since he discovered Lance hiding in his kitchen, he looks slightly nervous. “If, um. If that’s okay.”
“I’d like that,” Lance says softly. Keith’s gentle look makes something hot brew in his belly, butterflies fluttering and making his arms and legs tingle. He’s had crushes before, and he’s absolutely no stranger to finding someone hot, but this feels…different. Almost —
“Lance?” For the second time, Hunk’s voice startles Lance out of making goo-goo eyes at Keith, poking his head out of his actual apartment, right across the door. “I thought I heard you out here — wait.” Hunk’s dark eyes narrow, and he looks Lance up and down. He holds his gaze for a second, then bursts out laughing. “Keith, pal,” he wheezes, “please tell me my dumbass best friend didn’t break into your house.”
Keith grins. “He did!”
“No fuckin’ way! Lance, dude, oh my God —”
“Easy and reasonable mistake! Fuck off!”
———
Hours later, cozy on Hunk’s couch, he gets a text from an unknown number.
from: unknown
i’ve decided i won’t press charges for breaking and entering.
Lance laughs, quickly adding the number to his contacts.
to: keith <3
thank you, oh merciful one.
Lance is left on read for long enough that he’s almost offended, but luckily a text pops in before he can get really mad.
from: keith <3
don’t get too relieved yet, lance.
from: keith <3
there are other charges i’m going to press.
A real stab of fear pierces Lance’s heart.
to: keith <3
u best be joking it was an ACCIDENT
to: keith <3
i have DYSLEXIA
to: keith <3
this is DYSLEXIPHOBIC
Before Lance can really work himself up, though, Keith finishes his thought.
from: keith <3
i have to report you for theft
from: keith <3
cus aside from sandwich ingredients, i think you stole my heart
Lance couldn’t stop his giggle if he tried. It’s besotted and stupid and halfway-drunk, Jesus. Lance is embarrassed for himself.
from: keith <3
oh my god that is the most embarrassing thing i’ve ever typed and sent
from: keith <3
i’m begging you to purge it from your memory
to: keith <3
i’ll make you a deal
Lance takes a deep breath, steeling himself before sending. It feels strange to be on the other end of a pickup line — Lance can’t say he minds.
to: keith <3
you go out with me, and i’ll never mention how embarrassing you are to another soul
from: keith <3
…
from: keith <3
i’ve only known you for a day, and i know you’re lying to me
Lance snorts. That’s a fair assumption. Lance was lying. He’s actually debating waking Hunk up to show him these texts instead of waiting until tomorrow morning, but Keith doesn’t need to know that.
from: keith <3
but, yeah. i’ll go out with you.
from: keith <3
…tomorrow?
Lance grins. He has a good feeling about this.
to: keith <3
see you then, hot not-intruder :)
———
based on this video
#been waiting to write this one#vld#voltron#lance#lance mcclain#keith#keith kogane#klance#pre klance#flirting#meetcute#tall keith#hunk & lance#modern au#broganes#fluff and humour#my writing#fic#longpost
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College is so stressful but anyway what if Desmond wears eyeliner or kohl and wear feminine and masculine clothes depending his mood because he seems androgynous to me and when he timetravels and just go "fuck gender roles" and kills templars while he grows his hair and wears jewellery and lace
I hope you get some time to relax soon! And the awesome thing about Desmond is that he changes face in every game that we can call him androgynous if we feel like it. Dude doesn’t really have a canon face anyway. And even if he doesn’t, this involves time traveling so we can just chalk the sudden androgynous look to some kind of Isu BS XD
Desmond will definitely be the bisexual awakening of a lot of people with his time hopping. Altaïr alone would be more confused than he was when he found out Maria was pretending to be Robert. If anything could be considered sorcery, it would be Desmond’s ability to confuse the hell out of people. They meet him wearing masculine clothes and think “Oh, he’s a dude” and then their next meeting with him, he’d be wearing feminine clothes and be like “??????” and BSOD.
Altaïr would try to push any confusion he might have and focus on gaining the information he needs from Desmond (who may or may not have killed someone to get the information, the Brotherhood can’t be sure) but, goddamn it, that’s hard to do when he’s just standing nearby, watching Desmond put on kohl on his eyes and painting his lips red just because he was ‘feeling pretty’ today, whatever the hell that means and he’s just draped in silk bedsheets because he hasn’t thought of what clothes he should wear today and Altaïr is pretty sure Desmond is doing this on purpose because there’s no fucking way that bedsheet coincidentally just slipped enough that Altaïr could see his collarbone. Then Desmond tells him to check his chest and pick a dress for him and holy shit, there are undergarments there that Altaïr had never seen before and his brain just gives up on him that way and all blood flowed downward after that.
Ezio would know Desmond as Leonardo’s favorite muse and he’d flirt with him, thinking he’s a woman at first. Ezio and Desmond would definitely have some fun and Ezio’s just going to be ‘oh, cool’ with anything Desmond does. Seeing Desmond assassinate someone will always be hot regardless of what clothes he decided to wear during that time. (The Borgias will definitely have a boner for him and it’s half hot-person-yummy and half he-can’t-be-more-beautiful/handsome-than-us, especially from Lucrezia). Ezio and Desmond definitely posed for one of Leonardo’s works (that doesn’t exist in the OG timeline) and it’s the steamiest painting Leonardo had ever done.
Haytham’s prudeness will definitely make him annoyed, both at Desmond himself and at his own attraction to seeing Desmond wearing those infuriating scandalous clothes. Ratonhnhaké:ton, on the other hand, would just think “white people weirdness” when he first sees Desmond. When he learns that other white people think Desmond is weird, at that point, Ratonhnhaké:ton wouldn’t even care anymore as he liked Desmond as a person and he likes seeing Desmond smiles. Desmond is also Ratonhnhaké:ton’s plus one for Myriam and Norris even though Ratonhnhaké:ton told him that he doesn’t understand what a ‘plus one’ even means. Ratonhnhaké:ton wouldn’t say it outloud but he thought Desmond outshone Myriam on her own wedding day.
Shay’s definitely going to be tongue-tied whenever he sees Desmond. Also, Desmond got a few fashion tips from Hope and he looks so good in female Assassin robes that he definitely outshines Hope. Liam likes to tease him about it but even he’s not immune to Desmond’s charm, especially when Desmond stares at him. Even when Shay defected, he could never raise his hand against Desmond and… maybe a part of him enjoyed being stepped on by Desmond’s heels, he’s trying not to think too deeply about it considering he can already see Haytham’s disapproving face.
Arno… Arno would find him strange, sure, and he’s definitely going to ignore his attraction to him because he’s in love with Élise, damn it. But it is becoming too hard to ignore it when Élise always finds ways to leave him behind while he will always see Desmond in the cafe, smiling at him as he welcomed him back. He doesn’t even know where he stands with Élise anymore and Desmond… Desmond confuses him so much but, at the same time, Desmond is the only person who makes so much sense right now that… fuck, Arno’s going to get drunk and just let his drunk self do whatever. He’ll deal with the consequences later.
It’s Jacob who sees Desmond first. Flirts with him ‘cause he thought he was a woman. Evie sees him next while he’s wearing masculine clothes… but Evie can’t be sure. There’s something about the way he moved and the way he looked that just makes Evie unable to fully conclude that she is seeing a man. Jacob and Evie never see him at the same time. Every time they see him, they see him as a woman for Jacob and a man for Evie. Then they finally see him together, wearing formless clothes that could worn by anyone and he’s talking to Ned and they’re both “ooooohhhhh” but they don’t really get it, they just think they do.
#i was thinking how the layla trilogy would deal with this#and the only conclusion i can think of is#bayek shows respect regardless#kassandra/alexios and eivor tries to seduce him regardless#desmond as everybody’s androgynous bisexual reawakening#altdes and ezides definitely fuuuuuuccckkkkeeeedddd#arndes probably fucked too but arno has no memories of it#no usual tags because#altdes#ezides#haydes#condes#shaydes#arndes#jacdes#i guess evie has a crush on him so#evides#ask and answer
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Klance Fic Starter Pack
So back in June of 2018 I made a Klance Fic Starter Pack post but since it’s been a long while since then I decided it’s finally time for an update. So here we have it! - Karri
so why don’t we fall by aknightley (1/1 | 8,218 | Explicit)
Five times Lance used a pet name for Keith, and one time Keith used one for Lance.
Keith has no basis for having a relationship with someone, so he's trying to follow Lance's lead.
//nsfw
The Marks We Make by wittyy_name (12/12 | 255,302 | Mature)
Lance McClain constantly dreams of the day he'll finally meet his mysterious soulmate. They don't say much, if anything at all, but they leave him with gorgeous paintings temporarily tattooing his skin. It's not exactly the situation he hoped for, but when he feels the connection between them, he can't bring himself to resent them. As much as he wishes his soulmate would just talk to him, he's resigned himself to being patient. In the meantime, he has a loving family and good friends to help him get by.
Keith Kogane dreads the day he'll finally meet his obnoxious soulmate. He's just an art student who's struggling to find his place in the world. There's so much he hasn't been able to control in his life, and the thought of having a soulmate, just another thing in his life which he also has no control over yet can't do anything about, is a little terrifying. So he ignores the words that occasionally appear on his skin. He has other things to focus on: like being a new student at a big university where his childhood friend and step-brother go.
//nsfw
(shallura, hunk/shay)
Nightmares by Trashness (1/1 | 14,864 | Teen And Up)
Lance's nightmares are getting out of control. It's effecting his and the team's performance, but he's at a loss for how to fix this.
Apparently sleeping next to a warm body helps.
call me, beep me (10/10 | 85,591 | General)
(00:31) Do you think she gave me the wrong number on purpose?
(00:31) Or was it a genuine mistake?
(00:32) Like maybe she writes funny and I misread it?
(00:32) Some of the numbers do look a little dodgy...
(00:33) Cause, you know, her threes could very easily be poorly formed eights? And maybe she writes her sevens like her ones?
(00:45) What
(00:46) The
(00:46) Fuck???
(00:47) Oh good, you are awake!
where lance messages the wrong number and things kind of snowball from there
(shallura)
Shut Up and Dance With Me by wittyy_name (15/15 | 249,827 | Mature)
Lance and his friends have been regulars at the Altea Dance Studio for years. Not just for classes, but to hang out, practice, and spend time with good people who love dancing. Every year, they audition to be one of the few representing Altea at the regional dance competition. Lance always auditions solo, but this year he misses out on auditions and blows his chance to participate. And so does his self-proclaimed rival, Keith.
Luckily, Shiro comes up with a brilliant plan: convince Lance and Keith to audition as a duo.
With a little convincing, and a lot of effort, these two might just be able to pull it off and go to regionals... or they might crash and burn.
//nsfw
(shallura)
Hearts Don’t Break Around Here by klancekorner (13/13 | 135,555 | Mature)
Lance and Keith have been best friends since first grade. Lance’s brain is always on overdrive and Keith’s blunt, realistic ass can never keep up. They both come to realize that sometimes you can learn a lot about loving yourself by loving someone else.
//anxiety //insecurities //nsfw
i bet you look good on the dancefloor by xShieru (7/7 | 43,295 | Teen And Up)
"So like in 'Step Up'?"
Allura shrugs. "Now that you put it like that - yes. I guess it's just like in 'Step Up'."
The smile that she sends Shiro's way - followed by a shy wave, eugh - is sickening to say the least, and Lance still doesn't believe in dance camps.
-
Lance McClain's dancing career begins and ends with Keith.
Keith just wants to find out what Lance's deal is.
(shallura)
you never stood a chance by kagshina (1/1 | 12,221 | Teen And Up)
lance to hunk ♡
>i’m gonna fukin die hunk oh mygod i sent
>keith a work out selfie that i wan supposed to fcukin send to you and you know what it said
>”BET YOU WANNA LICK THESE NIPS”
>HUNK I WILL NEVE BE ABLE TO FCE HIM AGAIN I WANT TO DI E
(Or, Keith is beautiful, Lance has a crush, and there's lots of shirtless selfies)
nothing’s quite as sweet by dimpleforyourthoughts (1/1 | 50,369 | Teen And Up)
Keith is a barista who hates his job. Lance works at the cat shelter across the street.
Sweet Quiznak by CheckeredCloth (4/4 | 6,819 | Teen And Up)
"You're really into him," Hunk mutters, and wow, Lance's face is on fire. Hunk is killing him.
"Look, read into how you like, Freud, just make sure that if I die Keith knows I totally would've mowed his ass like grass. That way, I can laugh hysterically at his emotionally-constipated expression from the afterlife."
Or: Lance is badly injured and has a few skeletons in his closet. Or maybe just the one.
//blood //injury
What a Healing Pod Can’t Repair by Remember_Me (12/12 | 55,777 | Teen And Up)
The compromised wormhole was ripping apart at the seams, sending everyone spiraling away in completely different directions. Lance could feel himself being pulled and bent in ways he was definitely not supposed to be.
--
Stitching the team back together after everyone is separated is difficult, and for one Paladin rescue wouldn't be coming for a very long time.
//violence //blood
Bonding Time by magisterpavus (1/1 | 16,416 | Explicit)
“Shiro, I fucked up,” Keith blurted, wringing his hands.
Shiro paused mid-punch, shooting him a quizzical look. “What? What happened?”
“I think,” Keith whispered, “I think I accidentally roofied Lance. With my dick.”
//nsfw
Homesick at Space Camp by K0bot (15/15 | 74,280 | Teen And Up)
Lance realizes he's been an asshole to Keith, and on a diplomatic mission to a key planet for the Voltron alliance he... overcompensates.
//blood //injuries //panic attacks
we’ll make it, you and me by ghostcribs (1/1 | 6,421 | Teen And Up)
"Keith, if we make it out of this alive, I'm going to kiss you."
//injury
time out of mind by aknightley (2/2 | 27,849 | Teen And Up)
Keith and Lance wake up married. In the future.
He lays there a moment, processing the faint throbbing in his head, a strange bitter taste like lemons in his mouth. When he opens his eyes, the room spins wildly into a kaleidoscope of colors, so he closes them again, breathing in and out until he feels less like he might throw up. He suddenly registers a warm weight over his waist, and lifts his head to see a brown arm thrown over him. It looks startlingly familiar, but different, bigger than he remembers, more toned.
Keith turns all the way around and comes face to face with Lance sleepily blinking his own eyes open.
A Fish And A Bird by Methoxyethane (1/1 | 13,141 | Teen And Up)
Lance has a boyfriend. Lance does not realize he has a boyfriend. Keith, understandably, does not react well.
On Thin Ice by anonimina (11/11 | 205,795 | Mature)
This multi-chapter fic chronicles the lives of a hockey player named Keith who gets enlisted into figure skating lessons by his brother, Shiro, to "work on his footwork". There he meets a pompous - yet talented - figure skater named Lance and gets swept away by both the sport and the skater.
Or: the not-so-simple story of two people trying to navigate the complexities of living in an ever changing world and face the traumas they've buried far away from the sunlight.
//anxiety
(shallura, hunk/shay)
bench press me by eggboi (1/1 | 1,683 | Teen And Up)
“The hell are you doing?” Keith grumbles out, body mid-push up. There’s a snicker behind him, too close to his ears, though Keith can’t really understand what would be so amusing about this. Then again, he’s not really sure why Lance is lying on him while he’s doing push ups either. Other than to be, of course, annoying.
“Nothing.” Lance finally says. Keith hears the grin in his voice, which only proves to irritate him a little more. ‘Nothing’ his ass. “Continue with what you’re doing, Mr. ‘I’m-Too-Good-For-Socialization’.”
(Lance, as always, tries to annoy Keith by making his exercise harder. It doesn’t work. At all.)
My Youth Is Yours by MilkTeaMiku (10/10 | 29,980 | General)
An unforseen blast in the middle of a battle de-ages Lance into a child for a week.
Keith does not understand babies.
#klance#voltron#vld#klance fic#klance fics#voltron fic#voltron fics#vld fic#vld fics#klance starter pack#klance fic starter pack
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In the Flesh <Shay Cormac>
Another work I forgot to transfer from AO3. Please enjoy <3
Autumn leaves floated on the surface of the river. Her elbows were pressed into her knees, and her nose was buried in a book. Songbirds called to each other, and the soft turning of the pages blended together into a peaceful melody. Her training schedule had been hectic, and preparation for winter at the homestead had taken up most of her free time. It was times like these that she coveted. Solitude, nature, and a good book seemed to always call out to her.
She could be the worst assassin at times. Completely oblivious to her surroundings, and completely engrossed in what she was doing. It was her Achilles' heel, and he knew it. His feet were silent as he crept up the path, taking extra care to avoid the crunchy orange leaves that littered the forest floor. He hesitated studying his target. Her posture was relaxed on the marble bench at the edge of the river. The cowl of her assassin robes were pulled down, and her (d/l) hair was unbound floating in the crisp breeze. As he crept closer he was engulfed in her scent, his eyes fluttered shut for a moment taking in her comforting scent. It reminded him of home, a place that he thought was lost forever. His dark eyes narrowed on his target, and he couldn’t help but grin as he launched himself at her. His hands were quick to find her sides, the tips of his fingers squeezing into soft flesh.
She let out a surprised squeak her body tensing, before letting out uncontrollable laughter. “Sh-Shay.” She managed to choke out between giggles. “Stop!” She shrieked. His attacks finally seized, and he wrapped his arms around her waist resting his chin on her shoulder, “What are you reading lass?”
“That is none of your business Mr. Cormac.” She said with a blush.
His eyes lit up reaching for the novel in her hands. He was quick to snatch it up before she could stop him. “Pamela?” He asked flipping through some of the pages. “A romance book?” He asked quirking an eyebrow as he took a seat on the bench next to her. “I didn’t know you were a hopeless romantic.” He said giving her shoulder a nudge.
“I’m not!” She said reaching for the book, which Shay seemed determined not to give back. “Hope said she liked it, so she lent it to me.”
Shay sprawled across the bench laying his head in her lap, book open to the page she was on. He cleared his throat and began to read out loud, leaving her red faced and embarrassed. After a couple of pages he stopped glancing up at her, “(Y/N) this is an awful book. Are you going to make me read this whole thing?”
She scoffed, “I never asked you to read it. You took that upon yourself, but I see what you mean. It’s even worse hearing it then it is reading it.”
Shay dropped the book, “what’s this sudden interest in romance novels?”
“You aren’t going to drop this are you?” She inquired with a roll of her eyes.
He frowned, “humor me. I’m just curious.”
It occurred to her some time ago that he always managed to get her to inadvertently admit things that he didn’t want to be the first to say. He had a knack for convincing her to share her secrets with him, and he always seemed interested in what was going on in her mind. She was never the kind to open up, but if someone asked she would answer truthfully. Her heart was an open book for those willing to ask. “As you know I am a woman.” She began.
“Shocking.” Shay said dryly.
“Eventually, I would like to find someone…” She said rubbing the back of her neck. “Or maybe not, I don’t know. I guess I’m curious?” She continued to ramble.
“Wait, you mean to tell me you’ve never been with a man in any way?” He asked looking up at her, causing the woman to blush.
“I never said that!” She said folding her arms across his chest.
“You didn’t need to.” Shay said with a chuckle. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He added.
“Regardless, my life isn’t exactly relationship material.” (Y/N) simply said, “but I can read about people who are in the position for such things.” She said simply.
“Maybe you just need someone who leads a similar life.” Shay said softly.
**
“He’s dead.” Liam’s voice echoed snapping her back to reality. “Shay is dead (Y/N).” He repeated trying to solidify the statement in her mind.
“Dead? How? When?” She asked. Her knees felt weak, and the world seemed to shake at it’s very core.
“He defected. He’s a traitor.” Liam said once more. He was being extremely blunt with her as if she should take his words as solid facts. “One of our fellow brothers, who shall remain nameless shot him.”
Her eyes widened turning on Liam instantly. For a moment her grief was transformed into rage. “Who the fuck shot him?” She asked shoving Liam against the wall.
“For his safety, and your sanity he shall remain anonymous. Now I would suggest you back down and return to your duties immediately.” Liam hissed.
With shaking hands she released him. Liam would not divulge any more information. He’d mentored her enough times for her to know how his mind worked. She spun around leaving the homestead behind her. Her mind was foggy, and emotions crashed about inside her like a sea during a storm. The marble bench by the river had a blanket of snow covering it. Bare fingered she managed to brush it off. Her whole body was numb, so she didn’t even feel the ice biting into her flesh. She collapsed onto the bench burying her face in her hands. Salty tears came quick, and sobs wracked her body. Her best friend was gone, and she’d never gotten to say goodbye.
*
**
“Quicker on your feet!” Liam hollered to some novices across the yard. His eyes flickered back to the (p/c/l) figure in front of him. “Your stance is wrong. If someone twice your size swings at you they’ll break through your defense instantly.” He said placing his hands on her hips to adjuster her stance. His fingers lingered on her hip as his other hand adjusted the position of her sword. She knew what he was doing, but she hadn’t been able to conclude if he was ordered to do it as a distraction or if he was genuinely interested in her. Maybe his conscience was clear since his best friend was labeled a traitor, and was currently six feet under.
They ran through the drill until Liam felt the stance came naturally to her. She was placing a practice sword on the rack when Liam’s brogue startled her, “(Y/N). I wish to speak with ye.” She turned to face him giving him her full attention. “I know I’m your mentor, but I wanted to ask you something more personal.” He said softly looking down at the path as they walked. Her eyes widened, and her heart sped up. She knew where this conversation was going, and she’d been dreading it. “It seemed wrong at the time to say anything. You were a novice, and I was one of your mentors. Shay seemed pretty taken with ye, so I never pushed the matter.” He said stopping turning to face her. His hands quickly found hers gripping them for some sense of comfort, or support. “You’re beautiful.” He said earnestly leaning towards her. “I want you to join me in Virginia. I could be your only mentor from now on, and some time at sea together may do us both good.” He rambled on his eyes flickering up to her (e/c) gaze.
“Liam I-” but she was cut off by an Assassin.
“Sir! Kesegowaase is dead!” The rider declared handing him a sealed envelope. “There’s been reports that Shay Cormac has murdered him.”
Liam growled, “dammit! Dammit all to hell!” His thumb popped open the wax seal as his eyes scanned the letter. “That fucking traitor!”
“Shays alive?” Her voice seemed distant. The shock of the news was still seeping in.
“The Shay you knew is dead.” Liam said shaking his head. “Dammit, he’s overtaken one of the forts in New York. Achilles and Hope need to know. Come, you may be getting another promotion soon.” Liam said leading her towards the manor.
Achilles and Hope did not take the news well. (Y/N) found herself seated at a table watching the three debate the best course of action. “Perhaps we could draw him out?” Hope suggested her eyes flickering over to the (p/c/l) woman.
Liam frowned shaking his head, “he’ll be expecting that. Once he sees her he’ll be immediately on guard, or he’ll kill her.”
Hope tisked, “you boys still aren’t over that feud? Shay is obviously a traitor, you don’t have to worry about losing (Y/N) to him. Shay will know this, but I think we both know that he will try his damndest to win her over.” Hope said simply. “Men aren’t that complicated Liam.” She said flicking auburn locks over her shoulder.
(Y/N) sat up in her seat at the discussion. There were a lot of assumptions flying around the room about her, Shay, Liam, and her relationship with the two. She was about to interject, but stopped herself. It dawned on her that this may be the only opportunity she would get to learn the truth. If she could just speak to Shay she would know. Hope, Liam and Achilles hadn’t been entirely truthful regarding the events of Shay’s disappearance. Liam appeared to know that Shay was alive. How long had he known? Why didn’t he want her to know that Shay was still alive? She couldn’t escape the feeling that they were hiding something from her, and she was determined to get to the bottom of it.
“I think Hope’s right.” (Y/N) said making up her mind.
Liam raised his eyebrows at her statement. “I think I can draw him out. He’ll know if I bring others with me.” She added glancing around the room. “Liam’s right. He’d expect that, but Hope’s right too. Shay would expect me to try and find him. I’m sure he’s aware that news of him has spread to the brotherhood. I know he’d speak with me.” She said giving Liam’s hand a squeeze in an attempt to convince him her actions were innocent.
Liam squeezed her hand back, “so you’ll go…to Virginia with me?” Hope filled his eyes, and she was tempted to look away, ashamed of her lie.
“Yes, of course. After New York.” She said offering him a smile.
*
**
New York was bustling with activity. Blending into crowds was an easy task for (Y/N). She made her way to the docks. The Morrigan had disappeared from the homestead, and (Y/N) assumed that this was the best place to look for Shay. The man wouldn’t wander too far away from his beloved ship. The docks seemed endless. She must have read the name of fifty different ships, but still no Morrigan.
Shay peaked around the corner of a ship. Her back was to him as her eyes scanned the docks. He’d managed to search the perimeter, and he was able to confirm that she was alone. She hadn’t changed much. Still completely oblivious to his predatory gaze. He was directly behind her when he finally spoke up, “looking for me lass?”
She jumped at his voice, but something inside her eased at the recognition of his voice. Her shoulders started to shake, and she knew there was no use in trying to stop the tears that pooled in her eyes. She slowly turned to face him, “you’re really alive. You’re not a ghost?” She stated gazing up at him. He could see the tears collecting on her long lashes and streaking down her face.
“Aye, it’s me. In the flesh.” He said with a simple nod of confirmation.
“You look...different.” She said eyeing his robes, and she noticed the blood red cross on his chest. Her eyes flickered up to his dark lidded eyes. “It suits you.” She said quietly.
He took a step towards her closing the distance between the two. His arms wrapped around her pulling her to him. He knew she’d spill whatever was on her mind when she felt safe, and he wasn’t wrong in his assumption.
“Shay everything is wrong. Liam told me you were a traitor, and that you were dead. I'm pretty sure Achilles, Hope and Liam aren't telling me the whole truth." Her voice was muffled in his coat. "And I think Liam's in love with me."
Shay froze at her last sentence, "Liam is in love with you?"
"I think; he wants to mentor me, and go to Virginia with him." She said, and her eyes widened at what she had just said. She quickly pulled away from Shay. "Shit! I shouldn't have told you that."
"Lass I think you need to sit down and calmly explain what's going on." He said observing her wide eyes and obsessive pacing. "Come on lass." He said putting his arm around her leading her across the docks. Fort Arsenal was close. He studied her out of the corner of his eye as he lead her to the fort. His heart still fluttered at the sight of her, and she still felt like home. He was worried she'd hate him, but he could see the internal conflict within her.
He lead her into the fort sitting her down in front of the fire. He shoved a glass of whiskey in her hand. "Drink this lass. It'll help." He said sitting next to her. He didn't try to speak until she finished the glass.
"Shay, what happened? I came home from my mission and Liam told me you were dead. He said that you were a traitor." Her eyes flickered down once more to the cross on his chest.
Shay sighed running his hand down his face, "I went to Lisbon, and found the precursor sight. When I touched it, it triggered an earthquake. It was a repeat of Haiti. Thousands of people died. All because of me." His gaze flickered to the fire. He couldn't bare to see her reaction. "I told Achilles what happened, and he refused to stop meddling with the precursor sights, so I attempted to steal the manuscript, and you know the rest."
He heard the thump of glass on the mahogany table and the shuffling of feet. "Shay, .Lisbon wasn't your fault. You didn't know." She said softly gripping his hands in hers. She was kneeling in front of him looking up at him.
"Do you love him?" Shay asked his gaze smoldering in the firelight.
"No, it's always been you." She said softly. Shay didn't hesitate to capture her lips in a kiss. He'd thought of this moment often, he'd imagined it in a hundred different ways, but nothing compared to this. His fingers tugging her closer, so that she was in his lap. Her fingers expertly pulling on his dark locks creating a pleasant sensation. He picked her up carrying her across the room letting her back hit the feather mattress. Her long lashes framed pupils blown with lust that gazed up at him with nothing but trust. He smoothed back her (h/c), "do you trust me?" He inquired searching her eyes for any doubt.
She nodded pulling him down by the lapels of his jacket and whispered, "always" against his lips.
*
**
She awoke to the warm sun on her bare back. She gave a tentative stretch feeling a pleasurable soreness in her body. She rolled over to find the bed empty. She climbed out of the bed creeping across the floorboards hearing low voices echo through the fort. She turned to find a note on the bedside table.
Early morning meeting. I'll be back around ten.
Yours,
Shay
She grabbed a light blanket at the end of the bed wrapping it around her shoulders peeking out the window. It couldn't be past eight. Her robes were scattered across the mahogany floor, which she promptly ignored. She found a kettle and placed it over the fire taking a seat.
She didn’t know if returning to the homestead was an option after last night. Hope had spies all over the city. She wasn’t a fool, and neither was Shay. Someone saw them enter Fort Arsenal, and she could guarantee that someone had been posted outside the stronghold all night to see if she left the fort. Which she hadn’t, so there were only two conclusions the brotherhood would come to: she was killed, or she defected. Hope would assume the latter, and Liam? Who knew. She could most likely convince him she was held prisoner from questioning, but the rest of the brotherhood wouldn’t trust her. The whistling of the kettle snapped her from her thoughts. She took the kettle off the fire busying herself with making a pot of tea.
*
**
It was a little past ten when Shay got back. The pessimistic part of him worried she’d be gone, but his heart told him she stayed. He was eager to see her and possibly repeat the events from last night. He found her seated in front of the fire, deep in thought. “I was worried you’d left.” He said snapping her back to reality.
She quirked an eyebrow, “if I recall I’m the one who woke up alone.”
He chuckled giving her temple a kiss, “I left a note.” His hand giving her bare arm a rub. “I’m yours for the rest of the day.” He said pressing a kiss to her neck his stubble scratching the delicate skin.
“Shay..” She said softly, “we need to talk.”
Shay froze. He knew this conversation was coming, but he hadn’t been prepared for it to come so soon. He was hoping to enjoy her a little more before she left, but he understood the predicament she was in. The predicament he put her in. He rocked back on his heels using the momentum to stand. He took a seat in the chair opposite of her. Her bottom lip was glossy, and he knew she’d been anxiously biting it all morning. A habit she’d had since he met her.
“I realize the position I’m in.” She began her fingers playing with the ends of the blanket that was draped around her. “I am not a fool. I know Hope has spies in the city, I know we were followed, and I didn’t return to the bureau last night. To the brotherhood I’ve defected.” Her voice grew soft at the end. “I suppose in a way I have. I lied to Liam and Hope. They expected me to kill you, and I knew that I wouldn’t.” She hesitated, “a lot of people put their trust in me and I’ve betrayed them.” She groaned burying her head in her hands, “I’m going to fucking hell.”
He cursed, “Shite lass. This is my fault, I should have turned you away immediately. As soon as I saw you I had hope that someone didn’t completely turn on me. Then when you mentioned Liam I got angry, and jealous. I thought maybe he’d gotten to you too, and the thought of you loving him killed me, but when you told me you still cared for me I had to have you.” He confessed gripping her hands in his. “I’ve wanted you for so long, and it was selfish of me, but I’ll never regret last night. Even if you chose to leave.”
“After last night I have no desire to return to the homestead.”
A smile bloomed across Shay’s face, “you’re staying lass?”
“If you’ll have me.” She said kissing the tip of his nose.
He pulled her into a bone crushing hug, his thumb smoothing her hair. “I thought you were going to tell me I’d lost you forever.” He said nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck.
“I lost you once Shay. Never again.” She said kissing the top of his head.
“I love you lass.” Shay murmured against her neck.
Her heart eased at those four words. For once he’d been the first to confess. She’d heard him express it in a million different little ways, but his confession did not leave any room for doubt. Her fingers trailed his back as she uttered, “I love you too.
___
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The Christmas that Wasn’t-Ch. 16
A/N: As always, written with the beautiful, lovely amazing @mox-made-me-do-it . Sorry it took so long guys!
Chapter 16: Adam
I stayed on the swim deck all night with a bottle of Jack Daniels. I listened to Dan and Shay on an endless loop—hoping to make myself sick of it. Every note made me think of Allie, of the way she felt in my arms, of the scent of her hair and her skin. I tried to stop the thoughts, the memories. Tried to force myself to hate the music pouring through my speakers. My chest ached. I wanted to chuck the whole goddamn stereo in the water.
Allie’s face swam in my mind. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t imagine what Allie was going through. She had just had her entire life turned on its head. Thrust upside down in a split second. Here I was trying to lay on my best moves. The woman had come all the way to Bora Bora to forget the pain of what happened to her, to reawaken her happiness. Not to find some new hook up. She’d come here with Leigh, to be with Leigh.
It was time for me to take a step back. To give her the space she so obviously wanted.
The empty bottle hit the deck with a clink. The swim deck swayed, churning my stomach. I tried to focus on the stars and the moon burning bright in the sky, but the bobbing made it hard to focus on anything. It took a minute or two to pull myself up to standing. I stumbled up the steps to the main deck, trying my best not to fall over. I’d no more than stepped inside than Kenny appeared from the other side of the bungalow.
“Man, I’m sorry,” I slurred, banging into the back of the sofa as I went. “About tonight. You don’t know how much I didn’t want to knock on that door.”
I made it to the minibar, slinging the empty bottle on the counter. I leaned heavily against the wall, hoping to regain my balance. “How’d it go?”
“Come on, Hanger,” Kenny said with a faint smile. He stood by the door, one shoulder against the wall. “A guy’s got to have his secrets.”
I smirked, words forming on the tip of my tongue. Words that I knew were too hurtful to say.
Kenny looked me over. “Did you drink that whole bottle tonight?” He was clearly trying to change the subject. “What happened over here?
I let him. “Dude, I don’t even know. Everything was perfect,” I replied, thinking of every second of those moments together. “We were dancing over there and I was just about to kiss her and then the song changed. She froze, I turned around, and she bolted. She didn’t come here for some hook up. I need to stop.”
Kenny moved closer, his eyes wary. I opened the minifridge with one hand, picked up and waved the empty bottle with the other. “And no, smart ass, I made this bottle last all day. But I feel like I need another one.” I pulled out another bottle—this time of Maker’s Mark—and swayed on my feet. “But come on, man. One of us had to get some tonight. Did you get her to make any cute noises? Get your dick sucked?”
I realized pretty quickly that I was rambling, spilling out bullshit while Jack ran through my blood. For a minute, I felt like I was going to puke. “Dude…”
The next thing I knew, pain bloomed up along my chin. I hit the ground hard, the wind rushing out of me in a huff. My vision blurred for half a second. The nausea rolled back over me as I tried to get to my feet. I was hardly up on my knees when Kenny’s fist slammed into my jaw just below my ear. My ears rang. I didn’t know which way was up.
“What the fuck man?” I shouted as I pulled myself to my feet. God, I felt like I was going to puke. “What’s your problem?”
“You,” Kenny spat, his fist already curling for another blow. “Your drunk ass is my problem.”
I shoved him back as hard as I could. “I’m the problem? You can’t even have a hook up right! Her hair wasn’t even messed up. It’s not like you were stormin’ the fucking beaches when I showed up.”
“You have no clue what was going on,” he replied. He shook out his hand. “So shut your goddamn mouth and go sleep it off.”
I should have taken his advice. A sober me probably would have. But Jack wasn’t much in the mood to be a good guy. My palm ran over the places where I knew bruises would be blooming by tomorrow.
“What was it, huh, Ken?” I spat. “Couldn’t get it up? Not as big a fan of the girls anymore? All talk and no action, aren’t you?”
Oh, Christ, I was an idiot. I knew it. I could feel it, but there was no stopping the Jack once it did its thing.
“Poor pitiful Kenny,” I whined. My feet were a little more solid under my feet. I squared up, knowing that it was a horrible fucking idea. “Nobody loves me. I can’t fuck Leigh. Kota left me. Boo fucking hoo. Jesus, do you ever wonder why?”
It was a shitty thing to say. I knew that it wasn’t fair to bring up Kota. That was a button pushed too far.
For a minute, I didn’t think he’d say anything. He just stood there, staring at me. I was watching his face. I should’ve been watching his hands.
“Son of a bitch,” Kenny yelled. He started swinging, not caring. I dodged one or two of the blows, but he hit me again on the jaw below the ear. I couldn’t hear for the longest time. My balance gave out.
Before thirty seconds had gone by, he’d clipped me twice more on the jaw and then popped me one massive time in the solar plexus. My chest locked up. Kenny moved faster and hit harder than anyone I’d ever met. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’d broken my ribs. He yelled at me but I couldn’t make out a word of it. When he was pissed, he shouted in Japanese. But I understood “mother fucker” when I heard it.
I couldn’t catch my breath no matter how hard I tried. Kenny had punched me so hard that it was like having my chest caved in. Lungs popped. Like a fucking fish on a deck. A spike of rage bloomed through me. For a split second, Jack turned that rage into hate. I hated Kenny Omega.
Before the thought could take root, I gasped in a heavy breath and held up my hands to defend myself. “Dude… Ken… stop!” His fist swung out one more time, clipping me across the cheek. Kenny stood over me, his hands clenched into fists, one of his knuckles busted open. “I’m sorry.”
Kenny looked down, the brightness in his eyes fading as the fight went out of him. He choked in a breath and then stretched out his hand to help me up. We stood face to face, watching each other with uncertain eyes. I could already feel my cheek swelling, pain lancing up beneath my left eye. I’d have a shiner for sure.
“I didn’t mean that,” I said warily. Fuck, my face hurt. “That was the Jack talking.”
He turned away, the expression on his face clouded. I couldn’t tell if he believed me. Hell, even I couldn’t tell if I believed me. “Sleep it off, Adam,” he said before walking toward the bathroom.
He’d barely made it two steps when the door nearly shook off the hinges. Loud thumping knocks vibrated through the air. Kenny pulled the door open, and Allie and Leigh pushed past him.
“What the hell is going on in here?!” Allie shouted, hands on her hips.
Shit, I thought, heart pounding, we were loud enough for them to hear us. FUCK!
Her eyes widened when she had half a second to take in my face. Her lips pressed into a thin line. She glared at Kenny from the corner of her eye, and I couldn’t help but smile. I’d seen her take fire when Leigh’s ex had been on the phone that first day. I could only imagine what kind of hell she would give Kenny for what he’d just done.
Allie turned toward Leigh, pulling the other girl closer by the wrist. I had a brief flash of when Ken and I had walked in on them. Jack made me think a couple things I shouldn’t have. I looked away and caught Kenny’s eye in the process. He raised his hands and backed away, as if he didn’t have anything else to say to me.
I watched as Leigh slid her fingers around Kenny’s wrist and pulled him toward the door. He relaxed at her touch, the anger fading from his face almost instantaneously. She smiled, her whole face changing when she looked at him. Her eyes were bright, face upturned as if she were waiting for him to lean down and kiss her.
I’m an ass, I thought bitterly. Kenny was easy to love. He was loved. By the woman standing right in front of him.
Kenny let Leigh lead him back out into the night, leaving me along with Allie.
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#the christmas that wasn't#kenny omega#kenny omega fanfiction#adam page#adam page fanfiction#aew#aew fanfiction#ofc#oc#allie mason#leigh keene#adam x allie#hangman adam page#hangman page#kenny x leigh#bora bora#paradise#strangers to friends to lovers#multi-chapter#co-written#mox-made-me-do-it
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Enemies To Lovers To Married
A Haytham Kenway x Reader One-shot
Word Count: 1,730
Warnings: Explicit Language (A lot lol), and kinda saucy?
Author’s Note: Straight up was tempted to call this, ‘Watch Your Profanity’, not gonna lie. Enjoy! -Thorne
“Aye, it’s been a long time since I’ve had to do a speech.” The Irishman chuckled nervously, glancing at the crowd. “I don’t know if I’ve got a good one prepared.”
The crowd laughed with him and a voice piped up, “Do your best Shay. I’ll fill in where you lose track.”
Another ripple of chuckles sounded through the audience and Shay looked down at the woman dressed in a beautiful white gown. “That you will, (Y/N).” His eyes drifted back to the crowd and he quipped, “You know, I expected to be Haytham’s best man, but I didn’t count on having to be my best friend’s maid-of-honor too.” Howling laughter spread through the room and he eyed the couple who were almost in tears at that point; Shay smiled. “I guess I should start with the moment the two of them met.”
***
He let out a long sigh, relaxing into the chair as the spiced wine warmed his body. A snort sounded beside him. “Comfortable, Shay?”
His eyes opened and he lolled his head enough to see the man sitting at the head of the table. “Aye, Master Haytham…I am.” Shay crossed a heavy leather boot over the other. “I feel like it’s been years since I sat down and actually enjoyed a drink.”
Haytham hummed in agreement, taking a sip of his own wine. “I concur. It’s been awhile since I haven’t had so much to take care of.” His steel eyes drifted to the Assassin-Hunter. “You’ve taken on quite a load of work since joining the order.”
Shay nodded, crossing his arms comfortably across his chest. “Aye. I know Colonel Monro must’ve spent a great deal of resources to get me in. I’d like to repay it back.”
“You seem to keep the opinion that you owe everyone something.” Haytham regarded him with a knowing look. “Keep that mentality, and it’ll be the end of you.”
“I don’t know about that sir. I seem to—”
His words were cut off by the tavern doors slamming open against the walls, followed by an enraged voice. “Where the hell is he?! I know he’s in here!”
Their attention turned to the entrance and they saw a young woman entering, eyes wildly following the crowd until they landed on the two Templars.
She raised her sword to them, no, Shay and shouted, “You absolute fucker!”
The Irish Templar rose, partially elated, the other half shocked. “(Y/N)! You’re back!” She started after him menacingly, and immediately he backpedaled, shifting until Haytham was between the two of them. “Wait lass, I know you’re upset! But—”
“Upset?!” She howled. “I get back from a three-year deployment in Europe to find that you’ve fucked off and joined the Templars! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” His mouth opened but she pointed the sword at him again. “Don’t answer that you jackass! It’s fucking rhetorical! I already know what’s fucking wrong with you!” Her eyes momentarily drifted to the Grandmaster sitting rather bewildered between the arguing two. (Y/N) smiled, rather politely saying, “Afternoon, Grandmaster Haytham.”
He tipped his head in acknowledgement. “Good afternoon.”
(Y/N) looked back at Shay. “When I get a hold of you—”
“Just let me explain!” Shay shouted, hands raised in defense. Before she could reply, he speedily stated, “Long story short, the Assassins are meddling with Precursor temples and causing devastating earthquakes and they won’t stop! I tried to leave with the information, and they shot me in the back and left me for dead!”
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Are you lying to me, Shay Patrick Cormac?”
He shook his head. “Never.” (Y/N) lowered the sword and Shay cautiously stepped around the table, though his hands were still raised defensively. “You know me, (Y/N). I’d never lie to you.”
She stared at him for a moment then dropped the sword and jerked forward, wrapping her arms around his waist. “God, you fucking idiot.”
Shay smiled, wrapping his arms around her back. He buried his face in her hair. “I know, I know.”
“I was so fucking worried about you when I got back. Achilles and Hope and Liam, all of them spouting three different versions of the same story and you were nowhere to be found.”
“Aye,” he murmured, heart hurting at the mention of his old friends. “I know.”
(Y/N) pulled away and grasped his shoulders, staring him straight in the eyes, before inquiring seriously, “Is this the best path for you, Shay?”
His expression turned solemn and he said, “It’s the only one I can now walk.” She watched him a moment then pulled away and reached down, undoing the sash that carried her Assassin symbol on it. “Lass?” he questioned.
She didn’t say anything, simply walking over to the fire, the people moving out of her way instantly, and threw it in, watching it burn. (Y/N) took a deep breath and let her shoulders fall, before moving back over to him. “Then it’s one I’ll walk alongside you.”
Shay’s eyes went wide and all he could say was her name. “(Y/N).”
Her eyes drifted to Haytham and she nodded at him. “Permission to be assigned to the Morrigan, Grandmaster.”
Haytham regarded her with a suspicious look. “I don’t know if you’re trustworthy yet. But before I even get to that, your language is utterly deplorable for a lady.”
Shay’s jaw dropped and he looked at the leader of their order. “Sir, I wouldn’t—”
(Y/N) leaned forward, swiping Haytham’s wine glass from it’s resting table. She downed it in one go and set it back down, retorting, “Then I guess your tight-ass should get used to it.”
“Excuse me?” Haytham dared.
She nodded. “You’re excused bitch. Don’t let the door hit you on your way out.”
Shay put his head in his hands, deadpanning, “Oh dear God.”
***
“And honestly, I’m entirely surprised the two of them managed to even form a relationship, because she made Haytham so angry that he challenged her to a duel less than ten minutes after that. And I still don’t know who won it!”
The crowd roared with laughter, looking towards the couple who were sitting with their heads in their hands, shoulders shaking with humor. (Y/N) was the first to look up. “I can’t believe that’s what you started with!”
Shay shrugged and a grin crossed his lips. “What else was I supposed to start with? The time you two got into a fistfight over social etiquette?” He gestured to the two of them. “I swear to God the two of you turned to love through hate.” His eyes went wide, and he looked at the audience, gasping, “It’s an enemies to lovers story!”
The crowd went wild at that and Haytham looked up, his cheeks tinged red with embarrassment. “Don’t you have any other story to tell?”
The Irishman looked at them and smirked. “Oh, I’ve got loads.” He turned to the crowd. “Let me tell you how (Y/N) proposed in the middle of a hurricane while we were fighting another ship.”
***
The door shut behind them and before he could even ask her how she was feeling, she was faceplanting onto the bed, a muffled groan resounding from her. Haytham chuckled and sat down at the foot of the bed, unlacing his shoes. “Tired, darling?”
(Y/N) made no effort to move save for turning her head to look at him. “Mhm…and drunk.”
He smiled and pulled a boot off before toeing the other one in suit. “You did drink quite a bit with Shay.”
“Irish tradition.” A smirk crossed her lips and she playfully quipped, “Why? Jealous?”
A rare snort came from him and he looked back at her. “Hardly.”
“Oh ho?” she dared. “And what makes you so confident?”
Haytham laid back against the bed, gazing into her eyes. “Because I’m the one who holds your heart in my hands.” (Y/N)’s mouth fell open and she simply stared at him; he reached up, the back of his fingers brushing her cheek as he admitted, “I never thought I’d meet another who understood me like you do, (Y/N).” He sighed. “I…am not the easiest man to be with. Your life will be difficult as my wife. Not just with the elite, but with the Order. We will sometimes have to make difficult choices. Ones we would regret for the rest of our lives if we had to do so.” He met her eyes once more. “And yet…I can’t bring myself to admit that I would willingly choose them over you.” He rolled on his side, cupping her cheek with his hand. “You change…everything (Y/N).” A tear fell across his thumb and he wiped it away. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
(Y/N) shook her head, shutting her eyes as more tears fell. “No,” she murmured, “I’m not sad.” She opened her eyes and brought her hand up, cupping his cheek in a mirrored movement. “I’m just…” Her words fell short.
“Just…what?” Haytham inquired.
(Y/N) swallowed thickly, admitting, “I’ve never been so loved before.” A smile grew on her lips. “I’m simply overwhelmed with emotion.”
“Good, I hope?”
“Always.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, murmuring, “Or maybe you’re just super fucking drunk and sappy.”
Haytham pulled away and barked a laugh. “Now there’s the (Y/N) I know.”
(Y/N) giggled and pulled away, beginning to undo the laces of her dress. “You were just waiting for me to use profanity, weren’t you, Haytham?”
“You wouldn’t be you if you couldn’t say fuck.”
Her head whipped up from her unlacing, a shocked look on her face. “I am shocked and scandalized, Haytham Kenway, did you just say what I think you said?”
He offered her an innocent look. “I don’t have the slightest idea about what you’re talking about, (Y/N).”
She scoffed and forwent her laces, climbing onto the bed beside him. “No, you know exactly what I’m talking about. You just said fuck.”
“I would never.”
“Bullshit.”
“Such profanity from my darling wife.”
“Oh, you haven’t heard profanity yet, my darling husband.”
Haytham’s eyes narrowed dangerously and he leaned towards her, but she fell back against the pillows. He followed her, trapping her beneath him. “Oh? And when will I hear such profanity?”
(Y/N) grinned and raised a hand, tipping his chin up as she retorted, “When you fuck me.”
#haytham kenway x reader#haytham kenway imagine#haytham kenway imagines#haytham kenway x reader imagine#haytham kenway x reader imagines#haytham kenway#shay cormac#assassins creed imagine#assassins creed imagines#assassins creed rogue#assassins creed rogue imagine#assassins creed rogue imagines#ac rogue imagine#ac rogue imagines#ac rogue
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Love Her Like I Didn’t | Owen Lindmark
See if you can pick out which paragraph @penaltbox wrote! & In case y’all didn’t know, I hate angst.
** FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED **
Words: 1.9k
Owen leaned against his headboard with his head tilted up, staring at the ceiling. He wondered how he had gotten to this point and whether or not it was the right move to do what he was about to do. He switched apps to look at the photo once more, sucking in a breath just like he had the first time he’d seen the picture of you with your bright smile and his arms wrapped around your shoulders from behind. Sure, he’d assumed you’d move on from him eventually, to some douchebag guy who he could hate, but he’d never expected it to be with his teammate. He closed his eyes and tried to level his breathing out, feeling like he’d been sucker punched. It was a Friday night, they had a bye week, he should be out with the boys and not wallowing. And yet here he was, feeling like he had the first day of the breakup, if he could even call it that. Technically you two had never officially been together.
Shay was a good teammate and all, but Owen wasn’t sold on you not being with himself. Shay didn’t know you like he did. He’d buy you food and expect you to eat it, not knowing that you were picky as hell, but you also wouldn’t want to make him feel bad so you’d force yourself to eat it anyway. He wouldn’t appreciate the way you mumble, he’d just tell you to speak up instead. He wouldn’t think the baseline between your neck and face is beautiful the way Owen always did. Shay sees the many knots in your hair and thinks ‘my god she’s a mess’ whereas O would say ‘my god she’s perfect’. He’ll notice that you wear the same 5 tshirts and sweats and chirp you for it but Owen always loved it, especially when they were his. He should have told you it more often, too. Owen hates the thought of Shay getting to put his lips where O first let his own drift and explore across your soft skin. He doesn’t like that he won’t get to hear you singing all around the apartment anymore or in the car, which he adored even when it was off key. He’ll miss the playlists you always made and hearing you rap all the songs from middle school. He won’t hear Morgan Wallen the same again after all those times you belted the lyrics every chance you could. He won’t get to see you at 8am all grumpy over being up that early or grinning over a stack of pancakes at brunch. Shay won’t know where your scars came from or why it is that you flinch when he’ll spread his hand out on your stomach. How long will it take him to notice that you smile even when you need to break down because you’re always so strong for everyone? Owen can tell with one glance these days. Is he going to wipe the corner of your mouth or your shirt every time you two go out to eat? You’re clumsy, that was no secret, but Owen always just helped with a soft, ‘it’s okay, baby; it happens’. Owen hates the thought that one day Shay could know you that well, or worse, better than he does. You were his girl, his person. He could go on and on about things he doesn’t want Shay to know, ways he doesn’t want Shay understanding the real you. Every thought that rolls through his mind is like a knife twisting in his heart.
He’d done this to himself though. He told you from the beginning that he hadn’t wanted anything serious & you were fine with that, never really expecting to tie down a college hockey player turned future NHL’er anyway. He’d repeated the phrase every time he felt himself getting butterflies. The first time was when he was having a conversation with the boys in the middle of the bar and he’d known you’d just arrived because he instantly felt warm. Turning around, his intuition would be right. He was drawn to you and your presence. He’d say it when he was around the boys playing video games and you’d be in between his legs and he’d lose track of the game, watching you. He’d repeat it when his eyes searched for you in the hall after every home game and when he made it a point to call or FaceTime you on the way home from every roadie, even the bad ones. No, especially on the bad ones. And he’d really repeat it when he couldn’t sleep because you weren’t there curled up next to him. He’d repeat it to his mom and brothers and cousins and anyone who would listen because if he said it enough times, then maybe he would believe it.
You could tell things were getting to be different, a little more than just friends. The looks he’d give you, the nights you’d spend in each other’s arms just talking, and the amount of time you would spend together. But you didn’t push for more and he was appreciative of that.
The final straw had been when he’d drunkenly almost told you he loved you after you forced him to go out with his team. A decision they had regretted when they spent their night consoling him for you not being there, only made better by FaceTiming you. They delivered him back to you in one very drunken piece and he’d almost let it slip past his lips after you had washed his face, claiming he’d thank you for it in the morning, and tucked him into bed. He got as far as “I lo-“ and even in his drunken state, he could see what it did to you. How hopeful you’d looked. He’d gotten too comfortable and leading you on wasn’t fair. He was leaving soon and you were going to go back to your life, to achieve all of your goals and forget about him. He was doing this for you, or at least that’s what he kept telling himself. Never mind the fact that he’d let himself for a split second think about what he was feeling and how real and terrifying it was. He couldn’t give you what you deserved and he knew that. So he closed out of the picture and reopened his notes app, hoping that he could give some words of advice to his teammate so that he could. He didn’t even know where to begin; you deserved the world and then some.
Shay, I’m writing this because I need you to give Y/N the very best and if you can benefit from my fuck up then so be it. She doesn’t deserve to be broken again and though I know she’s strong enough to pick herself back up, she shouldn’t have to. Please love her the way I never showed her.
Don’t make her pick the restaurant, it stresses her out because she doesn’t want to choose something that you won’t be happy with.
She’s not herself when she’s hangry. She doesn’t know what she wants to eat and she doesn’t mean whatever insult she throws your way. Just make a list of her favorite foods and offer them to her, even if it’s all the way across town. You’ll thank me later.
Let her control the music. The songs she picks will often be a sign of what she’s feeling. If you’re lucky, you’ll see a whole new side of her.
Don’t make fun of her singing, she’ll never sing for you again
Family is important to her, make sure you earn her mother’s respect
Don’t let her go to bed without washing her face, no matter how many times she tells you she’s tired or it’s fine. It’s not fine, she’ll thank you the next day.
Compliment her all the time, even when she doesn’t accept them. She really needs to get better at that
Take her out of her comfort zone every once in a while. She loves to try new things but rarely does so on her own
She loves to have her hair played with, especially when she’s stressed or can’t fall asleep
Don’t make her feel second to hockey. Ever.
Don’t make the age gap a big deal, because it’s not.
Defend her especially when she’s not around. Don’t you dare let anyone speak bad on her name. She doesn’t deserve that.
Talk hockey with her, she loves that but doesn’t want to bother you with that in case you’re tired of it
Don’t entertain any of the girls that slide in your DMs. Don’t even like the picture. You can let her know or even show her your DMs but don’t rub it in her face either.
Trust her. There will be other guys that try to steal her. She’s a catch, but you can’t let that get to your head. She’s loyal to a fault.
She’s going to doubt herself, that’s just how it is. You just have to do everything in your power to let her know you only want her.
Really let her get to know you. All your hockey stories, why you got into hockey, what that guy on the ice was saying. Not the bullshit “it started at a really young age “stuff either. She won’t judge you. Open up to her.
Chirp her. She can handle it.
Treat her right, I mean it. Don’t fuck this up. She’s the best thing that will ever happen to you. I mean that.
Tell her you love her. Say it 100 times over and say it with purpose. Tell her the second that you realize you love her. Don’t make her wait for it like I did. Don’t make her ever question whether or not you love her like I did. Don’t be too proud to say it because she deserves to hear it and I was stupid enough to think it didn’t mean anything, that it wasn’t a big deal and I lost her. Maybe this should be #1 but I didn’t want you to fucking forget it.
Finishing his list, he took another deep, steadying breath & lightly chuckled to himself. This was it. He was really giving his teammate advice on how to keep his girl. He cursed himself. This wasn’t about him and you weren’t his girl anymore. You deserved more and if this is what his part was now, then to hell with his own happiness.
His thumb hit send as he shared the list with Shay. He threw his phone across the room, his hands running through his hair and pulling in frustration, a pained groan falling from his lips. Minutes later his phone was playing Whiskey Glasses, your ringtone and your picture flashing across his screen. He hadn’t heard from you since your ”breakup”, much to his disappointment. He flew across the room to retrieve the phone and immediately picked up.
“Hello?” He answered breathless, craving the sound of your voice.
“What the hell, Owen?! You can’t just...what am I supposed to…” your voice was raw and you were at a loss for words besides the burning question in your mind. Even though you were terrified of the answer, you forced the question past your lips.
“Did you— Do you mean it?”
There was a pause on the other end of the line and your breath hitched in your throat.
“Ohmygod”, he said in realization. Putting you on speaker he opened his notes app and looked at who he’d shared the list with.
Shared with one person: “Y/N”.
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for the ship ask meme - Reylo and Shay/Solas, hit me! :D
Reylo:
What made you ship it?
Listen, I’m always a sucker for villain ships. But that scene where he knocks her out in TFA an carries her BRIDAL STYLE to his ship. And the scene where he immediately takes off his mask when she says she hates it and it makes her afraid? That was it for me. And TLJ only made it even stronger.
What are your favorite things about the ship?
I love that the entire time he’s known her, he’s admired her. Even when she’s trying to kill him on StarKiller Base he offers to be her teacher and I don’t think that has to do entirely with Snoke’s wishes for her. He says she could be turned so that Snoke would want to spare her life.
I also love how soft he is with her. He rages and screams and fights everyone else, but he’s always quiet with her. In their force connection sessions, she’s spitting venom and he’s engaging back with utter calm. You can tell that no matter what she says to him, he is always happy to see her. And at the end, when she looks at him from the lift of the Falcon and he’s kneeling on the floor in the rebel base, he looks up at her with regret and guilt. He’s not angry even though he should be, even though he was earlier.
I think she is someone who doesn’t want anything from him, doesn’t have any expectations from him, and he needs that from someone
Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?
Lol, oh yeah. Now, I by no means want any censorship on fic. But I have to say that I really really hate the fics, whether it’s AU or otherwise, that make Kylo/Ben into some kind of obsessive stalker, or cruel sadist, or a rapist, or inherently violent with her. And it wouldn’t really bother me if those didn’t make up a huge amount of the fics about them. He’s an antagonist, he does shitty things, but I never saw him as outright villainous, like Snoke or Palpatine, and I wish there were more fics that explored the nuance of his character rather than having an OC with basically his name slapped on it for the purpose of a dark fantasy.
Like I said, I’m not advocating that these fics are bad and shouldn’t exist. I just don’t get why it feels like they are the majority of the “popular” fics to me and its’ frustrating trying to filter them out.
Solas X Cadash
What made you ship it?
I love dwarves, okay? And the first playthrough of Dragon Age, I tried like hell to get with the mysterious apostate elf and he would have nothing to do with me and I was outraged, haha. So I replayed as an elf just to see what it was like and I was even more outraged.
I also don’t like feeling like Solas would only be attracted to someone who fits a strict standard of beauty that I am so sick of seeing in media regardless and the fact that I’m supposed to have a lot of freedom of choice in DA and still get slapped with the “Solas wouldn’t want anyone who isn’t exactly like him or taller/thinner/conventionally beautiful” just enrages with me.
It’s not my fantasy to have an OC/player insert that is everything I can’t be in the real world be romanced by a character I like because it’s just demoralizing to have that message that I have to be an ideal before I’m worthy. It’s my fantasy to be romanced exactly as I look like in this world because I’m still valuable without being conventionally beautiful.
What do you like about it?
I like that Solas has very few ways to push a dwarf aside and put distance between them. A dwarf is as neutral as you can get with him. They aren’t necessarily raised with the Chantry’s fear of magic, they don’t have a complicated and fucked up history with elves, he can’t be superior with them like he is with the Dalish or the Qunari. The balcony scene with a dwarf is the least insulting because he doesn’t really have anything beyond the fact that dwarves don’t dream, except this dwarf does. So I feel like he could have a romance that isn’t hindered or colored by negative perceptions that you have to hurdle through the way he can be with a human or Dalish or Qunari.
At least, that’s how I wrote it.
Unpopular Opinion about the ship
Um . . .that there isn’t enough of it? Idk if there is an unpopular opinion because you have to be popular first, haha. But I do feel like some people shy away from dwarf characters because you can’t make them tall and thin and conventionally beautiful and some people are desperate for that because they haven’t accepted the way they look IRL. Not everyone, of course. Some people just don’t think dwarves are interesting and that’s fine! But I do think there’s a connection between a dwarf being thicker and stouter and shorter than what is generally considered attractive and the severe lack of dwarf OCs that I see in fandom compared to humans or elves or even Qunari.
And if that makes me sound kind of stuck up then . . .oh well, I’m kind of stuck up. Do I wish I could be thinner/healthier/in shape? Of course. But I know I have value outside of the way I look and I like to have characters that go against this ingrained message that we have to be beautiful according to an unrealistic standard in order to be the heroes of our story and dwarf characters are as close as I can get to that.
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Speechless.
request: Hello! I was wondering if i could request class 1-A at prom, and Fem!Reader’s s/o ditched her so she was kinda just hiding away from the crowd in the back corner of the dance floor. Bakugou notices, and goes to comfort her but right as he walks up to her Speechless by Dan+Shay comes on. Thank you!!
a/n: this is coming out a bit late, sorry!!! i hope you like this tho!
warnings: the normal “i’m gonna help you make your ex jealous but i’m actually in love with you” trope, and with that comes a bit of angst, i guess.
masterlist
Was it possible to just disappear? Hide under a rock for thousands of years. Fly away to a place far, far away. Sadly you didn’t have the quirk to do so. Though at this moment you wished you did.
Your date for prom had left you for another girl. Why did you come here tonight? It was all just a stupid dance that costs way too much money! Even the dress was expensive, though it was beautiful and it was a shame that it wasn’t going to good use. This was all an expensive mistake.
The perfect night had turned into a shitshow, and it didn’t make it any better when you saw Bakugo Katsuki walking towards you. You just wanted to hide...
“Oi, where’s your date?”, he said with his hands in his pockets, looking like he just doesnt care.
“Don’t, Bakugo.”, you sighed and looked away from you, catching your date dancing with his new girl.
For once Bakugo didn’t speak, not a single word. He just leaned on the wall beside you. It almost annoyed you, that he wasn’t saying anything. But when you looked at him, he didn’t have that cocky smirk which he usuallt wore around you. He looked kind of sad for you, almost empathetic.
“Don’t pity me.”, you looked away from him.
“Are you for real?”, he exclaimed, “I’m trying to be fucking nice to you!”
“Well, what am I supposed to think? You always have some damn comment to make me feel like shit!”, you exclaimed, watching as he backed away in shock.
“... I wasn’t pitying you. You looked lonely.”, he didn’t explode with rage at your mean comment, like he usually would.
“No shit, my date left me to go dance with someone else.”, you huffed.
You didn’t really want to be mean to him anymore, it was just that you couldn’t just stop being mad and turn it around completely.
“Told you he’s a douche, didn’t I?”, Bakugo pushed his hands into his pockets.
“That’s not helping, Bakugo.”, you sighed as you stared your ex-date down, even though he didn’t look back... he didn’t even notice you.
“Oi, stop looking at him. It’s not like he’s gonna look back.”, he put his hand on your shoulder.
“Don’t you have someone else to bother?”, you backed away from him, “Or are you just here because no one wanted to dance with you?”
“I’ll have you know that I declined a lot of dances while walking over here, princess.”, his nickname for you fell out of his mouth like usual, but it sounded different when he looked at you like no one else was there.
“So then why are you here?”, you didn’t even realize that the two of you had gotten so close, you were practically chest to chest.
“I was going to ask you to dance.”, he looked away from you, throwing you completely off guard.
“I told you that I don’t need your pity, why do you want to dance with me?”, you tried to pretend that you weren’t blushing like crazy.
“Well, if you can’t believe that I’m being nice then think of it as a way to make your old date jealous.”, he said “old date” as if he was your new one but you decided not to comment on it.
“Fine.”, you said and held your hand out, “Then let’s fucking dance.”
As if on queue, as soon as Bakugo grabbed your hand a song started playing. It was the song that you had played over and over again while imagining this night.
You say you’ll be down in five.
The smell of your perfume
Is floating down the stairs.
You’re fixing up your hair like you do.
This might not be the night you imagined but at least you could make the moment a bit better and let yourself accept your crush on the explosive boy in front of you.
The truth was that you had liked him for so damn long, you just couldn’t admit it to yourself... but now with him standing in front of you, looking at you as if you were the most beautiful thing in the world and holding you as if you were made of glass that could break any minute, you let yourself float away in your imagination.
“You’re good at this.”, you muttered against his chest, where your head was resting.
“Did I just hear a compliment from you?”, he chuckled.
“Just shut up and dance with me.”, you sighed.
“I’m kidding... you’re not half-bad yourself.”, he lifted your head up by your chin.
When your eyes met your heart started beating faster and a chill ran down your spine.
“Are you serious? I’m amazing at dancing.”, you grinned.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me! You literally just stepped on my foot!”, he exclaimed.
“That was an accident!”, you exclaimed back, trying to hold your smile back.
Soon enough you broke out into laughter. It was that kind of laugh were you close your eyes and almost bend over, the only thing keeping you on your feet was Bakugo’s hands on your waist and yours on his shoulders. It was an ugly laugh, but Bakugo still looked at you like a florist looks at newly bloomed roses. Then again, you couldn’t tell since your eyes were closed.
“Oi, he’s coming over here.”, he whispered in your ear softly, making you shiver all over.
“Huh? Who?”, you looked around and saw your ex-date walking over.
The song ended and Bakugo let go of you. He mumbled out a goodbye before walking away, awfully quick.
“Hey, Y/N... would you like to dance with me?”, your old date asked.
“Um... yeah sure...”, you said while looking after Bakugo, who was now nowhere in sight.
You old date was kind of good, you didn’t really pay attention since you kept looking after Bakugo. When you saw him you almost froze in place. Your eyes locked with his as he swung his jacket over his shoulder, about to walk out of the dance.
“Are you okay, Y/N?”, your date asked.
“You... where’s the girl you left me for?”, you asked, avoiding his question.
“Oh... I left her, she’s probably all the way home by now.”, he chuckled, “Why? What’s wrong?”
“I hope you know that...”, you took a deep breath, “... you’re very bad at dancing... and kind of a total douche.”
“What the fuck did you just say to me?”, his grip on you hardened and you watched as Bakugo left the building.
“Let go of me!”, you stomped on his foot and backed away, “Stop using me like your rebound!”
“What’s wrong with you?”, he shouted before you ran away.
It all happened so quick that you didn’t even realize what you were doing, you just ran out of the dance and after the one you really wanted to see. He was just about to get into his cab and you had never ran that fast in heels like you did when you saw him.
“Katsuki!”, you shouted and he quickly turned around, just in time for you to stumble into his arms.
“What the hell are you doing!?”, he took your forearms in his hands, making sure that you could stand on your own feet before letting go, “Are you crazy? You’ll freeze to death!”
Bakugo protectively wrapped his jacket around your shoulders.
“I-... why did you go?”, you panted.
“You got why you wanted right?”, he stuffed his hands in his front pockets, “I only came here to dance with you-”
“Then dance with me again!”, you said with a stubborn look on your face.
“But your date-”
“He’s a douche! You said so yourself, didn’t you?”, you chuckled breathily, “Please, Katsuki.”
The name just slipped out, but it felt so natural to say.
“Not tonight, Y/N.”, he bent down and placed a kiss on your lips, sending off fireworks in your stomach, “Remind me next time, princess.”
You watched as he got into the cab and close the door. He rolled down the window. You took your shot and grabbed his face. When your lips collided again the fireworks didn’t stop and now they were everywhere... there was nothing else.
“You won’t forget it.”, you whispered and let the cab drive away.
#bakugo#bakugou katsuki#bnha bakugou#Katsuki Bakugō#bakugo x reader#katsuki#katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo imagine#bnha#bnha fanfiction#bnha fanfic#mha#mha imagines#mha x reader#my hero academia#my hero academy fanfiction#boku no hero headcanons#boku no hero fanfic#boku no hero x reader
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Blue Eyes Part 32
Summary: After the Garrison is shot up, the youngest Shelby daughter finds a new home in London. She strips herself of her last name and tries to live a peaceful life far away from her brothers’ chaos in Birmingham. But fate leads her right back into it after she runs into Alfie Solomons.
Part 32: Alfie and Ella get wrapped up in the bliss of parenthood. But things aren’t over yet
Ella was in the bliss of motherhood. When she awoke, it was almost a miracle to her that the twins weren’t just a dream. They were there in the flesh, cooing softly from their cots.
Alfie was fast asleep in the rocking chair, snoring lightly. His wife smiled and kissed his cheek. “Good morning, love.” She murmured.
He stirred and lifted his head with a wince. “Fucking hell, my hip hurts.”
“Well, you fell asleep in a wooden chair, I can imagine it does.” Ella laughed softly and went to scoop up Sofia. “Hello, chavi.” She whispered affectionately. “Was papa keeping you company last night?”
The baby girl yawned and wrapped her fingers around one of Ella’s dark curls.
“Oh, Alfie, aren’t they so perfect?” She sighed adoringly.
Alfie smiled, watching mother and daughter bond. “They sure are. Our son’s got a set of lungs on ‘im but we finally got back to sleep, didn’t we?” He reached a hand between the bars of Ezra’s cot and rubbed the baby’s stomach.
Ella beamed. “And you were doubting yourself as a father. I knew you’d be perfect.” She touted triumphantly.
“Hang on, only been one day.” He reminded her.
“Mhm, still.” She rocked Sofia softly.
“I never told you the meaning of their names. Their middle names, at least, you know why we chose their first names. But not their middle names.” He remembered. “Did I?”
“No, you didn’t.”
Alfie beckoned her over, patting his thighs. “C’mere, I’ll tell ya.”
“Your hip.”
“S’fine.”
Ella relented and made herself comfortable in his lap, resting Sofia against her chest.
“Eliana is Hebrew, well they’re both Hebrew names. But Eliana means ‘God has answered’. And Shai means gift. They’re both quite beautiful written in Hebrew. I’ll hafta show you.” Alfie rubbed Ella’s shoulder and pressed a kiss to her temple.
“Oh, Alfie, that’s beautiful, how perfect and-” Her eyes began to well up with tears. “Oh c’mon, I feel as if I’m crying about anything nowadays.” She laughed weakly and sniffled.
Her husband gently dabbed her tears away. “They’re tears of happiness, though, ain’t they?” He double-checked.
“Of course. I’ve never been so happy. Forget the world outside of here, I don’t care anymore. All I need is my family. This family.” She used her free hand to guide his lips to hers. Her hand rested on the left side of his face, her fingers gently resting on the scars and abrasions leftover from the wound.
Alfie jerked a bit involuntarily.
She withdrew from the kiss and pulled her hand away. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”
He swallowed and looked into her blue eyes. “No, love. I just…fuck you’re the only person who could ever still love me like this.”
“Will you still love me when I’m aged? Wrinkled and grayed?” She questioned, returning her hand to his injured cheek. The pads of her fingers just barely grazing over the marred skin. She wasn’t afraid to look into his eyes, not caring about the appearance of his clouded eye.
“Of course.” He nodded. “You’d still be beautiful to me.”
“Then why should it be any different for you? You’re still so beautiful to me, Alfie.” She whispered and lightly pressed a kiss to his cheek before kissing his lips again. “Nothing will ever change that.”
He sat with her for a moment. “Can you grab me a pen and paper?”
Ella looked confused but nodded. “Sure.” She stood up and handed Sofia to him.
“Hello, love.” He murmured softly and cradled her close.
She grabbed her diary and returned with it to the nursery. “What do you need this for?” She wondered.
“Here,” Alfie exchanged their daughter for the journal. He found a fresh page and uncapped the pen.
Ella looked over his shoulder with Sofia resting in her arms. She watched as Alfie began writing in a different script. It wasn’t unfamiliar to her, she’d seen him read it before, it was the Hebrew alphabet. And yet it was still very odd to see him writing it. Very patient and learned. It wasn’t like his normal handwriting, scrawled out without much care. His hand was steady, a practiced skill that must have been taught to him by someone he cared very much about.
“That’s Ezra.” He pointed to the characters. “Then here’s his middle name, Shai. Sorta short, reminds me of part of a menorah.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Right, Sofia’s spelled a bit differently in Hebrew. They’d spell it T-Z-O-F-I-Y-A.” He wrote the coinciding letters in Hebrew on the page. “Then Eliana. Mum didn’t spell it with a Y but some people do.” He shrugged and handed her the diary.
“You were right.” Ella murmured. “It’s beautiful.” There was something so special about celebrating Alfie’s culture. He’d been accustomed to some of the Shelby Traveler ways so Ella was glad to learn more from him. It was empowering knowing that Mosley wanted to kill Alfie simply because he was Jewish. But Alfie survived and responded by blessing his children with Hebrew names.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Weeks passed by at an unbelievable pace. Alfie was worried that if he blinked, he’d miss a big moment. Luckily, Ella was carefully keeping track of every milestone their twins took. She purchased two brand new journals, one a deep teal and the other a light lilac. Inside, she penned the twins’ first moments.
Ezra’s first smile when Anthea sniffed at his feet.
Sofia rolled over much to the delight of her father.
Ezra managed to sleep through the whole night despite his sister waking a few times.
Sofia laughed when Alfie kissed her cheek.
Ezra was the first to try sitting up on his own.
But Sofia was the first to crawl.
Once the pages started to fill up, Ella was taken aback by how much time had passed. She had become so conditioned to expect something awful to happen when things had been going so well. Times like that couldn’t last long. Inevitably they would end with something terrible blindsiding them.
But things maintained. It had been the longest Ella was genuinely happy. She had two beautiful children, two playful dogs, and a husband who loved her. It made her a little paranoid, always worried that something would come crashing down on their perfect world. But it stayed quiet for a very long time.
~~~~~~~~
“Okay, try and…yes, Alfie, stay there. Oh, Anthea.” Ella sighed as she tried to get her family in frame.
Alfie had spoiled her with a brand-new camera. Naturally, the first thing she wanted was a picture of her family all together. So, they went down to the beach to take a family portrait. Ella was setting up the shot as Alfie tried to keep both dogs still while holding Ezra and Sofia. The six-month-olds were wide awake and giggling at the dogs.
“Ah, you little fucker, get back here.” Alfie tried to get Anthea before she dashed off to swim.
“Alfie!” Ella scolded and snatched the pit bull by the collar. “You cannot swear in front of them anymore. They’ll start talking any day now and I don’t want them fucking spouting off your vocabulary.”
He grinned. “You’re just as bad as me, love.”
Ella frowned. He was right. One of her first words had been ‘shit’, after all. “We both have to work on it.” She sat Anthea down and returned to the camera to start the timer. “Ready?” She dashed back over and stood beside Alfie, wrapping an arm around his waist.
They waited for the shutter to go off before they could all take a breath.
“Bet it looks great.” Alfie set Ezra and Sofia down on the sand so they could play. He grunted as he lowered himself down beside them. “Look at that, aye?” He picked up a scallop shell and showed it to the twins. “What’s that, then?”
Ezra cooed and reached for the shell.
Ella watched from behind the camera, waiting for the perfect moment to take a candid shot. It was amazing to see how the twins had grown from little bundles to happy babies. They were healthy with pink, round cheeks. They weren’t identical, Ezra’s hair was much darker than Sofia’s. His hair reminded her more of her hair color. A very dark brown with warm chocolate highlights. Sofia’s was a beautiful lighter color with hints of honey that shone in the sun. They both had blue eyes but Ella knew from experience that the color could change. Already Ezra’s eyes were slowly melding to green. They looked like the ocean. Sofia’s eyes were starting to appear a bit browner. It thrilled Ella to think about how they would look in another month’s time. There was so much to look forward to.
After Ella took the picture, Alfie frowned and stood up. His eyes fixed above the bluff to their home.
“Alfie?” She asked. “What is it?”
“Someone’s pulled up in a car.” He answered.
“Are you expecting anyone?”
“No.” He whistled for Cyril and began walking toward the path back up to the house, his hand slipping inside his coat.
Ella felt a hint of dread as she realized this was it. This was when everything fell to shambles. She felt foolish for believing things would be okay.
Alfie muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like “Tommy Fucking Shelby.” Apparently, he saw the man get out of the car before Ella could.
Tommy noticed the two figures on the beach from the drive near the bluff. He walked over and shouted over the ledge. “Alfie!”
“The fuck does he want, aye?”
Ella shrugged. “I don’t know. He didn’t mention he was coming.” It had been quite some time since she heard from her brother. She naturally assumed that he was caught up in the business of trying to plan Oswald Mosley’s assassination.
“Tommy Shelby MP, OBE, thinks he can come calling whenever the fuck he wants.” Alfie scooped up Ezra and began walking back up the bluff to the house.
Ella picked up Sofia and began to follow them, making sure the dogs were right behind her.
By the time she reached the drive, Alfie and Tommy were already in a heated argument.
“You ain’t bringing your mental state here to disrupt me fucking family. That ain’t happening, mate.”
“What is going on?” Ella paused, taking in her brother’s appearance. He looked even more sleep-deprived than usual. He was twitching and couldn’t stand still. His eyes kept shifting, glancing over his shoulder, waiting for something or someone.
“Bring the kids inside.” Alfie handed Ezra over instead of answering his wife.
Ella hesitated but brought the twins and the dogs inside. She could hear the shouting match escalate through the house as she put the twins in their cots. Hoping to break them up, she hurried back outside and drew Alfie away from Tommy.
“What is going on!?” She demanded again.
“Your brother’s come here all doped up, that’s what’s going on.” Alfie jabbed a finger at the man.
Tommy looked ready to either pounce or rip his own hair out. His whole body was tensed up and practically trembling. His hands balled into fists. “This is it, Alfie. All those times you pointed a gun to my head. You fucking do it, right now!”
It was nonsensical, almost as if Ella’s hearing had gone out for a moment. His words disjointed and not making any logical sense. “Tommy, what are you talking about?” She struggled to get between the two who were in each other’s faces.
“This is it? Aye? You’ve finally lost your fucking marbles, Tommy? ‘Bout time we locked you up, right, in a fucking asylum!” Alfie shouted, his face turning red.
“Stop it!” Ella pushed her husband back knowing he wouldn’t fight her. “Stop it right now, the both of you!” She grabbed her brother by the overcoat and physically forced him back a few steps. He was so exhausted that he couldn’t resist her and stumbled backward. “What are you on about?”
But Tommy’s eyes were fixed on Alfie, almost like a rabid dog that had locked onto a victim. “It’s your lucky day, you finally get to blow me brains out!”
Ella had enough and slapped him across the face. “Take a fucking breath, for Christ's sake! You're going on like a fucking lunatic.” She snapped.
The stinging pain managed to knock Tommy back into a bit of sanity. “It all fell apart.” He gasped out; his lungs raw from screaming.
“What did?” Ella didn’t let go of his coat so he couldn’t go after Alfie again.
“The rally. Mosley, it all went to shit. Someone knew.”
“Who did?” Alfie asked.
“I don’t fucking know!” Tommy shouted. “I don’t know who!”
Ella’s stomach dropped. She had almost been certain that Mosley was dead. Maybe it was because things had been going so well for her. But that sick man was still out there. And now he knew that the Peaky Blinders were trying to kill him.
“He knew nothing.” Tommy pulled away from his sister and began to pace in a frenzy. “Mosley knew nothing. Then Barney was shot. Aberama was killed.” His breathing picked up pace again as he began to hyperventilate, his hands grasping tightly at his hair. “Mosley knew nothing!” He screamed.
Ella had seen her brother in very bad states before. But never to the extreme that he was now in.
Tommy stopped pacing and looked back at Alfie. He paused and then pointed at the man. “That’s why I’m here.”
“What are you talking about?” Ella made sure she was still in between them.
“He’s going to shoot me.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, Thomas.” Alfie threw his hands up in disbelief. “Always with the fucking dramatics. You get a grip, right, and then we’ll talk about what we’ll do next.”
“There is no next! There’s nothing left!” Tommy began approaching Alfie again. Ella pushed his chest to keep him back. “There’s nothing left. You go get your gun and you end it. I’m fucking done.”
“I ain’t shooting you, mate.”
“Tommy, please, just take a breath and-”
“I’m done!” Tommy’s voice roared across the windy landscape.
“I ain’t killing you.” Alfie crossed his arms over his chest.
�� “Fine.” Tommy shoved Ella to the side and stormed toward Alfie.
Ella only just gathered her bearings when she turned and saw Tommy had withdrawn a gun and was pointing it to her husband’s temple. Her blood ran cold. “Tommy…put the gun down.”
“You go inside. Get your gun and you kill me.” He replied. “Or I’m fucking shooting him.”
“Jesus Christ, you’ve gone fucking insane.” Alfie had been at the end of Tommy’s gun before but never had he been so convinced that the man would actually pull the trigger.
“I’m not going to kill you, Tommy.”
“Ella, do as I say!” He shouted, his finger fidgeting on the trigger. “This is how it’s meant to be. Shelbys don’t die of old age, you fucking know that. We get killed or we kill ourselves.”
“It doesn’t have to be this way.” Ella’s voice quivered. “Alfie and I will help you. Mosley can be defeated. He can!”
“No. No, he can’t.” Tears were forming in Tommy’s eyes. All the emotions colliding together and driving him to madness. He just wanted to sleep.
“Yes, he can. With Alfie’s help, we can make alliances. We’re smarter than he is, Tom.” She held out a hand to him. “Please, just put the gun down and we’ll do this together.”
“Listen to her.” Alfie agreed steadily. “Just listen to her. We can sort this out, mate. Don’t hafta be like this.”
In a snap decision, Tommy lowered the gun and Ella swooped in to rip it out of his hands. Her heart racing, she emptied the pistol of its bullets and tossed it into the gravel. “For fuck’s sake, Tommy.” She gasped in disbelief. “Are you high?”
The once invincible man looked as if he was crumbling right before her eyes. “I can’t do this, El. Not anymore.” He whimpered in Rokka to her.
“Stop, just stop.” Ella pulled him into her arms and let him unload his weight onto her. Tommy Shelby carried the world on his shoulders. To hold him was to hold Atlas.
~~~~~~~~~~
“He said he hasn’t slept in three days.” Ella came into the kitchen where Alfie was stewing a bit.
“So, he made it our fucking problem?” He muttered in response, never particularly enjoying having a gun shoved in his face.
She sighed and put on the kettle. “I’m sorry.”
“Ain’t your fault. No one needs to apologize for him. That’s his job, not yours.”
Ella hummed in agreement and walked up to him. “What are we going to do?”
He dropped his hands to her waist, trying to let go of the tension in his shoulders. “No fucking clue.” He admitted. “I assumed-well I figured he had in under control.”
“Yeah, I did too.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and let her fingers tease the hair grazing the nape of his neck.
Alfie drew her in close, letting her rest her chin on his shoulder. She glanced out the kitchen window behind him. Gazing out across the small lawn that overlooked the bluff. Something stirring in the garden made her perk up a bit. She almost expected another stray dog to come wandering onto the property like Anthea had. Instead, a dark shadow of a cat slunk out of a bush. Its tail flicked in the air as it crossed the trimmed lawn. For a moment it paused and seemed to listen to something, its ears pointing back. Then as suddenly as it had appeared, it dashed off.
“We need to find the black cat.” She whispered.
“Huh?” Alfie tilted his face towards here. “Didya say something, love?”
“No. No, I didn’t say anything.” She buried her face in his neck and began making a list of all the people who would betray her family.
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Fandom: One Chicago and SVU
Title: Silence Equals Death
Chapter 1: Dear Diary
P O V: Sylvie Brett
A/N: Boy, I am getting sick of these things. But, I'm too paranoid not to write it down. Here are the usual disclaimers, I do not own any of the One Chicago/Or SVU characters that glory goes to Dick Wolf and NBC. Trigger warning for a sexual assault/ rape towards the end. Whose Point of View would you like chapter two to be in; Kelly's, Matt's, Stella's or Kat's, Or Hailey's? This fic will be told through multiple views and be a joint between PD/ Fire and SVU. Reviews are fires to my soul; please leave one. Thank You.
Gaffney Chicago Medical Center
Dear Diary, today is January 31, 2021; it is 12:56 am; I am in Chicago Med. I have to write this all down before it becomes a twisted blur of fragmented memories. Tonight was a nightmare, and a dream all rolled into one. Sitting here now on this cold steel trap of a bed, I am in disbelief that any of this happened, but it did, and it shouldn't have; if I had been smarter, more robust, less drunk, none of this would have happened. I only have myself to blame. It all started so innocently.
Now everything is such a mess; how did this happen? I am not a lovesick teenager, and I shouldn't be making these types of mistakes. If only I could turn back time and not get so damn drunk, but I can't, so here it is, the sick truth of what will surely end my career. The authentic story as only someone who lived it can ever tell it. No Disney fair-tales here, just honest raw truths, every word you will read is what happened to the best of my recollection someday I will gone, and I want my truth out there, so no woman ever has to bear witness to the pain of being raped, and thrown away as if she is the villain.
I am not the villain, but can I say I was a victim?
Sofitel Chicago Magnificent Mile
20 E Chestnut St, Chicago, IL 60611
January 30th 2021 9:35 pm
"My money's on you finding exactly what you want."
Matthew Casey's rugged, sexy voice purrs in my ear. I can't remember when he said that or why the hell he said it; my mind is toasted with the large amount of alcohol I have poured into my body. I can remember what he said after, though, because it's what I deserve. Matt had no idea back then that all I wanted was for him to say he loved me, to tell me I am beautiful. To reassure me that these butterflies I have been feeling forever are not just in my stomach, not only carrying my heart away, but they are in his as well.
He didn't, not then and never since it's been at least two years since he said those words to me. Two years since I felt a brief flutter inside my heart telling me that my feelings for Matt had changed from friendship to something a little less platonic. "God, there ain't enough alcohol inside this damn hotel to take my memory away from this pain."
"I hear ya' sis." Stella Kidd motions for the bartender to bring us two more rounds as she settles against the counter inches away from me, her elbows propping her up. "You look flushed, Brett. Are you feeling okay?" Stella's gorgeous brown eyes are wide in concern as she glances at my body my cheeks are burning, I can feel the heat descending from my head to my face making me sway in dizziness a little as I try to remember how to breathe. Funny how a normal body function can sometimes take so much damn effort it hurts. I need a minute to do nothing, not to feel, think, talk, react or breathe, but of course, I can't have that minute, not with Stella on the case. "Yeah, girl, why wouldn't I be okay?" I fake a laugh, which I don't think fools her even for a second.
"Uh, I am so over these damn things Sylvie, I thought with COVID we would escape this bullshit this year." Stella slides down my shot glass to me as she tilts her head back and chugs her shot of whiskey with one gulp. "Yeah, I would have thought so too; nothing I hate more than a bunch of grown-ass corporate men in suits pretending to give two craps about us little people."
"Amen, sister." Stella clicks her empty glass against mine before I tilt my head back and swallow the rush of warmth that leaves me dizzier; maybe I shouldn't have skipped two meals today before coming here after having no food yesterday. "So what's up with you and Kelly?" I turn my head to my right to catch Stella's eyes, glued to her boyfriend Kelly Severide, chatting with District Chief Steve Walker. Fire Commissioner Carl Grissom and the Deputy Director of Finance Gail McLeod. "Kelly's looking dapper Stella; I think someone is going to get lucky tonight." I hold my hand up to signal the bartender for another round; he fills our glasses quickly, much to my pleasure. "Yeah, from your lips to Kelly's ears, please, he's barely touched me ever since he found out that some people may take offense to me being promoted because we're together."
"Aw, man, I'm sorry he's probably just worried Stella, he loves you Kelly doesn't want to be the reason you fail because we all know you deserve this promotion. At least he cares enough to say the words out loud." I swallow the shot feeling my eyes burn badly as tears filter out. "Aw man, this shit is strong. Phew!" shaking my body out, I signal for another, hearing Stella laugh. "Still regretting telling Matt how you feel?"
I pause for a moment before I answer; how should I respond? Do I regret telling Matt how I feel? "Hey bitches." I'm saved from answering as Leslie Shay comes stumbling over, wrapping her arm over my shoulder and squeezing between us, holding her phone up with her left hand. "Smile bitches." Stella and I hold our full shot glasses up. I love this bartender; he is on his game tonight; we smile and lean into Shay, who is reeking of Tequila. "Give me some love, sugar babes." Yeah, she is drunk, sugar babes? Where did she even come up with that one? We smile brighter even though neither one of us feel happy at this moment; her eyes are on Kelly, who isn't even looking our way, and I lock my eyes on Matt, who is dancing with some woman I have never seen in my life.
The woman is drop-dead gorgeous though five-foot-nine inches is my guess she appears to be Lebanese or Latino with long caramel hair flowing down her back past her waist the silk wrap dress she is wearing clings to every unique curve on her flawless body. Matt's arms are wrapped around her waist he's dancing close with her, my heart races so fast I feel the room sway. "Love is a journey, Sylvie, don't give up yet. I know this moment sucks. I get it hurts worse than anything you've ever experienced. When it gets too heavy, when it feels like the weight of this pain is crushing you, remember the pleasant moments, the breathless enthusiastic moments. Matt's alive, and so are you as long as you live, there is hope."
I wish I could smile at Shay as a thank you, but I can't muster the strength even to attempt a smile. Seeing Matt dancing with this woman is killing me slowly; who is she? Where did they meet? Why did he choose tonight to bring her on a date? Knowing I would be at this stupid First Responders training shit, is he trying to make me jealous?
"Your Casey is out there, Sylvie, but you don't have to change who you are to find him." Gabby's words from five years ago come back to me; she did not know just how right she was when she said them to me; hell, I didn't even know back then that the man who I would want to be by my side forever, the man who I would spend countless sleepless nights crying my heart out over was her Casey. Talk to God, Sylvie, get your head straight; this is crazy pinning over a man you pushed away yourself.
Sometimes I feel so cold the way steel must feel left outside to fend for itself against the weather elements. Some days I feel broken, I forget what living is for, I forget how to breathe or even why I should keep living. Today is one of those nights; seeing Matt with this woman is breaking me; I can feel every string of my heart aching, pulling, and twisting as it stretches my entire inside into a giant trampoline my stomach turns and painfully contracts reminding me.
I am alive
Every ache and every pain reminds me I am breathing, but why I can't seem to grasp it. I'm not suicidal, but I'm finding it hard to find a reason to keep my head up when my brain is screaming at me to run away, to bury myself in Tequila and cuddle under the covers till all of the daylight fades away into a blur of a drunken haze.
"Another shot, bartender."
"Name is Josh." I turn away, not caring, seeing only Matt as he lifts his finger to wipe out a stray hair off the woman's face. I can barely breathe every effort is a raspy painful burn that leaves me gasping, trying to fight off this fresh wave of tears. "Close your eyes, Sylvie, and fucking hold it together for a few more minutes; for God's sake, don't let the man see you cry."
Shay slips her arm around my back under my armpits, quickly leading me out of the ballroom where the music is playing louder than what you would expect at a training seminar. "Remember what I said to picture the pleasant moments." "I can't, Shay..I... can't breathe." "Shh, hey, it's okay. I got you." Shay gently settles me onto a couch inside the ladies' room, handing me a cold bottle of water, which she's already taken a few sips out. Still, she lifts to my lips before I can stop her; the cool liquid splashes over my chin, dripping down what gets inside my mouth is refreshing and helps cool me off, allowing me to breathe easier. Leaning back against the wall, I close my eyes, trying to regain some gravity; my knees are trembling, leaving me feeling as if I will collapse if I try to stand.
I want to kick myself for falling so hard for a damn guy who I knew would never love me back. I knew I shouldn't have pushed Matt, yet I ignored every one of my instincts and went full sped ahead. God, I will remember that day forever- I had been avoiding Matt for days ever since the accident. Mainly because I had my suspicions that Matt hadn't just been lucky in getting to me so quickly, part of me hoped and yes, as vain as it sounds prayed that Matt had raced to me, that the thought of me being in peril had somehow overcome Matt's heart running his blood in fear.
I told myself I was crazy even to think such stupid school girl thoughts. Matt is our captain; it made perfect sense he would be worried about Gianna and me; we're part of his team, nothing more. The job of the captain is to make sure all of his team comes home safe at the end of every shift; Matt's lost too many people in his days, he fears losing anyone, so of course, the entire team raced to us when they heard 61 was in an accident.
I had myself convinced Matt came to me out of loyalty out of duty, not because he was in love with me, I am stupid for even thinking for one mil-la-second that Matthew Casey would ever love me as anything except a friend. I was doing so damn well, too, until Blake Gallo blew up all my rationalization with his account of how Matt jumped out of a moving truck to get to me. Me, not myself and Gianna but only me. Brett, I have to get to Brett, that's what Gallo recalled Matt saying.
Shattered
Read more and please leave a review at https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13807832/1/Silence-Equals-Death
#chicagofire#fanfiction#onechicago#chicagopd#karakillmer#svu#sylviebrett#brettsey#mattcasey#metoo#rape#leslieshay#kidnapping#katazartamin#amandarolins
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Thanks to these two wonderful anons, I finally wrote more recruitverse! Thank you both :) 💗 In this one, they meet Shay’s girlfriend... and as usual, chaos is involved. (Rating T, humour + a whole lot of pining, ~5.1k words)
Meet my recruits! Find the other #recruitverse pieces under the tag or here on my masterpost 💙
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Jojo has never seen Ivan Ivanovic this delighted. There are a few things which spark a grim smile, like being complimented on an exercise well done, or offering him food he adores, but nothing so far has managed to plaster a grin this wide and persistent on his stoic Russian face. His joy is contagious, and both Gian and Jojo himself mirror his expression with glee in between silent pointing and suppressed giggles. Even the blasted snake curled up in its tank seems to smile.
On top of Valenti’s forehead, Jojo’s phone comes alive with an alarmingly loud buzz, nearly toppling the group of chess pieces gathered on the display. The other three freeze comically, Ivan mid-step and his foot left hovering uselessly, Gian about to balance a ruler on the Frenchman’s toes and Jojo with his hands in his pockets, looking for his wallet. A few seconds pass. Nothing happens.
Valenti continues to sleep peacefully.
It’s Ivan who breaks out into quiet laughter, slight hysteria colouring his relief, and then they all have to hold on to something to not burst out into Frenchman-waking guffawing. They’re not even sure why Valenti is sleeping like the dead, but they sure as hell are taking advantage. He’s showcasing several stacks of various paraphernalia on all his body parts, the highlight being a literal chair precariously resting on his limbs. Jojo went where the other two didn’t dare and placed one of Shay’s ubiquitous containers of glitter on his friend’s crotch – closed, of course – and at this point they’re struggling to even procure more items to add to the impressive piles.
As Jojo gingerly places his opened wallet on top of one of Gian’s boots, Ivan Ivanovic, the madman himself, begins building a house of cards on the chair’s seat. Now and then, they whisper ideas back and forth and struggle to keep quiet in between the hare-brained suggestions – we could get Ying, was Jojo’s contribution, and Gian: I would like to try to put as many socks on him as possible. Eventually, it became absurd, with ‘an online coupon’, ‘a pottery course’ and ‘a trip to Italy’ marking the point where they had to stop or risk getting too loud.
A bag of water, Shay might’ve suggested, or if we distribute the weight equally, I bet we could put Dante’s tank on him.
But he’s not here, and Jojo isn’t even too sad about this fact. He’s been spending quality time with the other three, learning chess from Valenti, exercising with Ivan, discussing books from their childhood with Gian – they’re a friend group, after all, so he enjoys time alone with any of the four. Besides, when they get going, Shay’s absence is hardly noticeable anyway; Valenti’s and Jojo’s ideas are ridiculous enough and their motivation to set them in motion stronger than Ivan’s silence and Gian’s gentle disapproval. They don’t need him.
Which isn’t at all to say that he’s glad Shay has been frequently meeting up with his girlfriend. Of course not, Shay is wonderful – as wonderful as a good friend can be, in any case. Yet he’s not necessary for their group dynamic. Jojo can wait until the end of the day to share gossip and random events with him, sure. Shay isn’t the only thing that keeps him going each day. He’s not the first person he thinks about after waking up, though he’s usually the first to hear about Jojo’s convoluted dreams, and they usually text a little before drifting off to sleep as to not disturb the others. Even so, he’s not all Jojo can think about. He’s a big oaf, likeable yet with decidedly more stupid moments than any of them, gullible to a fault, easily entertained by pretty much anything – and now he remembers how Shay realised that the yellow flower called dandelion and the fuzzy one he called blowball are one and the same plant, and how amazed he continued to be by this fact for days and then Jojo told him that ‘dandy’ was derived from it as they, like the flower, tended to change their outfits drastically, and Shay actually believed him and excitedly told his sister who was merciful enough -
Gian is looking at him. Maybe because he’s been motionlessly staring at nothing again and Jesus fuck this is a recently acquired habit he could do without.
I don’t even want that much, he thinks and knows it’s untrue, he’s asking for a whole lot without finding the words and should move on. He should. He really, really should.
With a bang, the door to their room flies open, causing their heads to snap towards the two people in the doorway: Shay is unmistakeable, beaming like he won the lottery, and judging by his companion, he did. Brittany is by his side, close enough to touch and displaying a friendly, inviting smile which – to Jojo – looks fake. He recognises her from the endless photos Shay showed him, though she’s shorter in person, less attractive, even plain. If she didn’t use photoshop outright, she must’ve applied a beauty filter of sorts to maybe move her eyes closer together or reduce the size of her nose. Like this, Jojo just can’t see the appeal.
“Howya lads”, Shay addresses them, evidently not having noticed the snoozing Valenti, “this is Brit. What are we doing?”
We. Jojo suppresses a scoff.
Before any of them get a chance to react, there’s movement on top of the bunk bed they’re surrounding, sparking instant panic: Valenti is waking up.
As soon as the Frenchman notices the raccoon socks dangling right in front of his face, he jerks in surprise and sets a domino effect in motion: the chair topples, dragging Jojo’s and Gian’s phones as well as the old-fashioned wall clock they stole from outside with it, and while Ivan skilfully snatches the chair in mid-air before it can crash into Dante’s tank, the clock shatters on the floor (but at least breaking the phones’ fall), prompting another twitch from Valenti and before they can actively think about it, Jojo and Gian are suddenly scrambling to catch the cascade of assorted objects toppling down.
Ivan Ivanovic manages to prevent another catastrophe by grabbing the container of glitter with his free hand, making all of them breathe a sigh of relief.
There’s a small silence once everything has either gone splat on the ground or been cradled safely in their arms. Confusedly, Valenti eyes the mess either still in his bed, in Ivan’s, Gian’s and Jojo’s hands, or littered on the floor. “Are you serious?”, he mutters and yawns heartily. Then, after spotting something in particular: “You used your phones? Please tell me you at least took pictures beforehand.”
“We are no amateurs”, Ivan shoots back and nods to where his smartphone is sticking out of his pocket. “Of course we take pictures.”
“Can I see?”, Brittany bursts out excitedly. She looks way too entertained anyway, as if they’d orchestrated this chaos purely for her sake. “In college, stacking things on sleeping people was my favourite thing. Oh, and writing on them.”
“A classic”, the Russian agrees and readily pulls up his gallery after having set down the chair to show her, “I have photo of writing too somewhere.”
“Don’t show her that”, Valenti protests immediately. “You drew all over my chest, that’s not appropriate!”
“If my memory serves correctly, there was an instance of Shay exhibiting various pro-England slogans”, Gian joins the conversation now too, “proclaiming his undying admiration of the Queen, for example.”
“I told you they’re ruthless”, Shay dejectedly addresses the only woman among them, making her chuckle and quietly urge Ivan to show her said photos as well.
“Oh, it’s so nice to meet you lot!”, she erupts once more, apparently remembering where she is. “I’ve heard so much about all of you. Please call me Brit.”
And thus commences the general Fawning Over A Female. It’s a ritual Jojo has witnessed countless times in his life and as time progressed, it only became more sickening. Beginning with a funny introduction – nothing major, either a self-deprecating detail (I’m generally responsible for the trouble we end up in) or an allusion to an anecdote (I threw him over fence, don’t know if you have heard story) –, then followed up by desperately trying to include her into the group (Shay briefly mentioned a potential interest in video games, would you be willing to dare an attempt at playing some time soon?). Her laughter is suddenly more contagious than the plague, and there’s no doubt she’s drinking in all this attention lavished onto her like an alcoholic.
The lack of girls among the Rainbow recruits must’ve gotten to them. Even Ivan Ivanovic is being courteous, there’s no other word for it. Boot-licking maybe. If you can even call knock-off Uggs boots. Valenti is going cross-eyed with how much he’s trying not to ogle her and even Gian of all people seems dead set on winning her over.
Pitiful.
“Yeah, hi, I’m Jojo”, he interrupts her before she can get the words out (and it took her long enough to turn to him, the only guy in the room not beaming at her like a lunatic), “and I got a mess to clean up.” With that, he turns away to pick up the shit off the floor which Valenti kicked everywhere. He’s not known for tidying up, especially not voluntarily, but no one bats an eye.
After all, he’s not known for flirting with girls, either.
Brit hardly counts as a woman; with her freakishly large eyes, overdone expressions and exuberant behaviour, she’s infantile. Pretty? Maybe. Perhaps under all that make-up not so much. But pretty enough to melt his friends’ brains. She’s delighted over that stupid snake and pretends like nothing’s more interesting than hearing all about Valenti’s piano lessons, and they’re eating it up as if she was a date they snagged despite never expecting to.
Then, all of a sudden, something dawns on him. Something which has him freeze instantly and turn back to the giggling posse.
“How did you get in?”, he asks loudly, not bothering to apologise to an irritated-looking Valenti for talking over him.
Abruptly, the noise dies down. They get what he’s asking – except for Shay, whose grey cells might’ve been sucked out of him by this doll and dear fucking God, that’s a mental image for which Jojo only has himself to blame. “She parked outside and we walked in”, Shay clarifies, pointing in a seemingly random direction. “By the skip, you know. Why?”
Gian looks positively horrified. “They – they merely allowed you entry?”
The happy couple exchanges a glance, nonplussed. “Yeah? I mean, they know me.”
“What did you say you worked as? A waitress?”, Jojo can’t help but ask with a sickly sweet smile. “Shay, you fucking moron, you brought a waitress into an SAS base. She’s a civ!”
“Oh, is that what this is?”, Brittany clarifies cheerfully. “I was wondering about all the security.”
Jojo’s no longer wondering why these two airheads ended up together. By now, he’s only clueless as to how they found each other at all with how much they’re bumbling through life. “Yeah, you gotta go. Your man’s getting eviscerated if they find you.”
Despite the shocked faces around her, she’s still perky. “Ah, it’s not going to be that bad.”
Valenti pulls a face which Jojo feels in his guts. “If you think that, you can’t be very aware of our reputation.”
And this is when they suddenly notice boots stomping down the hall. Familiar boots. On the way to their room.
“Goodbye cruel yet magnificent world”, Gian mutters, already accepted his fate, whereas Shay and Jojo exchange a single glance – enough to ensure they’re on the same page. Which hurts. Despite all the mayhem and impending doom, Jojo has the brain capacity left to realise he’s never been this in tune with anyone else he’s ever met.
They grab the nearest blanket – Valenti’s, causing even more items to topple to the floor – and hold it up in front of Brit and Ivan, trapping them between two bunk beds yet shielding them from the door. Well, to be exact, it’s only Brittany who can’t be spotted anymore. Ivan’s eyes are still peeking over the edge.
Sledge barges in without so much as a knock (which is fair enough as it’d only give them more time to hide any evidence), and finding himself in front of five recruits staring at him, unmoving, doesn’t seem to quell his suspicions. Oddly enough. “Which one of you clogged the showers?”, he barks as a greeting and Jojo doesn’t even get that usual pang of I wonder if he orders Maestro around like this at home. He doesn’t know when the Scot’s broad frame became less attractive than gangly limbs and a crooked grin.
“First of all, I find it very disrespectful to assume it was one of us”, Valenti starts with as much indignation as he can muster while nearly shaking in his boots, “you can’t just default to us every time something goes wrong, it’s unfair and -”
“Shut up, Jean.” The Frenchman’s mouth snaps shut. “Who was it?” Sheepishly, Gian, Jojo and Valenti raise their hands. “Bloody knew it. If it’s not in mint condition by supper, you won’t be getting any. Now drop the blanket and let me see what else you broke.”
“Ivan’s indecent”, Shay quickly butts in, earning himself a withering glare. There’s movement now, and instead of standing stock still, Brit is sliding under one of the beds while trying to make as little noise as possible.
“Come on. Let me see, lads.” They manage to dodge Sledge’s hands until he eventually rips the duvet out of theirs to face the explosion caused by Valenti’s awakening earlier. The Scot eyes the mess suspiciously. “That’s it?”
“I really was indecent”, Ivan replies, deadpan. “We were comparing. Would you like to -”
Sledge’s face contorts in vague horror. “God no. I’ve heard enough. I better not catch any of you causing more trouble for a week, there’s only so much nonsense I’m willing to take.”
With that, he storms off, leaving them to gather around an extremely dusty-looking Brit with cobwebs in her glossy brown hair. Her muted expression soothes something in Jojo.
“Now we just have to get you out of here and we’re good”, Shay announces, sounding hopeful and pointedly ignoring the disbelieving looks of his friends. “Got any ideas, lads?”
The Frenchman is the only one looking contemplative instead of bleak. “I might have one.”
.
“Do we, uh”, Valenti begins hesitantly, fidgeting when attentive eyes shift over to him, “do we have blueprints of Hereford? Somewhere? Just out of curiosity? Maybe you’ve heard of a secret passageway to the Outside? A path theoretically possible but no one dares to use it?”
Jäger examines them, visibly fighting a smile. They approached the German engineer for no other reason than his involvement in their highly successful weapon of Christ-mass destruction and the fact that he didn’t rat them out, quite the opposite. They’ve discussed alternatives, a conversation Brittany followed with increasing entertainment, and decided against Smoke and Mute despite their love for mischief and support for anything threatening Sledge’s and Thatcher’s composure: the two are simply too unreliable and would indubitably sell them out for a Curly Wurly. There’s no love lost between any recruit and most of Rainbow, and the operators who do actually care about them are the ones who’d chastise them for causing any kind of trouble.
So they’ve snuck into the workshop, hoping their usual invisibility works in their favour.
“Gustave told me not to interact with you five anymore”, Jäger replies, though his lowered voice implies the opposite. “But you seem very polite. And reasonably desperate. Why do you ask?”
“We might be wanting to smuggle something out”, Jojo explains. It’s odd to talk to his fellow countryman in English and not his mother tongue, but he vividly remembers the previous time he tried to converse with Bandit in German. If he’d thought the man’s swearing and threats couldn’t get any worse than what he produces in English, he was sorely mistaken.
“Like what?”
Girlfriends, Jojo thinks. “Live cargo?”, he offers. Shay pulls a face.
“Oh. Did you adopt a stray animal?”
When he makes a pensive expression, he earns an elbow between his ribs. “Listen. We can’t talk about it. Can you help us?”
“Not without seriously upsetting my boyfriend, no. I’m already on thin ice after I accidentally helped Dom spike the afternoon coffee.”
That’s fair enough, thinks Jojo. So maybe they need something more… straightforward. He suddenly has an idea.
.
“Is it theoretically possible to use a trebuchet to catapult someone?”, Jojo wants to know interestedly and almost regrets asking the moment Mira’s face lights up.
“Of course! Do you have one at the ready or would you need to construct one first?”
The five of them exchange uncertain glances, so the Spaniard enthusiastically begins sketching out all the materials needed, complete with dimensions and tools. In fact, it’s a tad concerning how easily she outlines all the necessary steps and has Jojo wonder about her past – this sort of thing seems to come naturally to her. Engrossed, they follow her instructions with nods and mental notes and eventually accept the several sheets of construction paper with elaborate thanks. Consulting her was Jojo’s idea and he based it on Mira’s helpfulness and general spirit when it came to building… anything, really.
“Now have fun and don’t be afraid to use your hands. Making things is incredibly rewarding. Good luck!” It doesn’t seem to bother her that she can’t even remember their names as she’s too focused on a task well done. Before they can turn around, however, she stops them with a last afterthought: “Wait – you didn’t need the person to survive being launched, did you?”
Before Shay even has the opportunity to get more upset than he already is, Ivan speaks up: “Never mind. I have idea.”
.
Kapkan is sharpening a knife, with Fuze next to him cleaning a gun. The two Russians raised their gazes the moment they stepped outside and haven’t lowered them since, favouring a cold hard stare to intimidate over inspecting their own handiwork, which admittedly ends up being flawless despite the lack of attention. Otherwise, the two of them are unmoving.
Four of their expressions basically scream this is the worst fucking idea and only Ivan Ivanovic seems at ease. He nods curtly as a greeting and receives likewise, but when the rest of them attempt an equally cool gesture, they’re scrutinised even more closely as a result. Jojo is genuinely anxious; being in the same room as any other Spetsnaz always causes an uncomfortable itching just below his skin. Except for Ivan, of course.
“Why are we here again?”, Valenti whispers while trying to hide behind Shay, and winces when Kapkan’s eyes flick over to him.
“Guard on entry”, Ivan says, clearly not beating around the bush, “who is it today?”
The two operatives glance at each other. “Perkins”, Fuze replies, and Kapkan adds: “Pain in the ass. Why?”
“He could have accident. Two minutes.”
Holy fucking shit. Jojo feels all colour drain from his cheeks.
“Yes, he could have”, Kapkan concurs. “But it would cause a lot of attention. Potentially. Sounds like it’s not worth it.”
“It is”, Ivan emphasises and that’s the moment Valenti finally snaps out of his disbelieving stupor and drags the Russian away while muttering what could be either French swearwords or a bread recipe, Jojo isn’t sure.
“Thanks anyway!”, he yells over his shoulder as he quickly follows the others, their ranks breaking down more with every passing second. “No hard feelings! We won’t tell!”
“I cannot shake the feeling that this has ensured our demise”, Gian mumbles and Shay, just as pale as Jojo feels, simply nods.
.
“To be honest, I don’t mind spending some more time with this cutie”, Brittany waves off Shay’s concern the moment they’re back in their room. “I’ve never even touched a snake and Dante is a real gentleman, so don’t worry about me.”
“Are you out of your mind?”, Valenti hisses in the background, audibly furious. “No matter whether Perkins is a piece of shit, he’s SAS and we’d be dead meat!”
“They would have tied together shoelaces”, Ivan unsuccessfully tries to appease him. “Or something like it. Better idea than hoping Hereford is Hogwarts, with secret tunnel.”
The Frenchman turns a lovely shade of dark red which almost matches his scarf. “Really? You call involving the Russian mob a better idea? At least I didn’t try to turn her into ammunition!”
“Hey, no need to lash out just because you didn’t get your letter when you turned ten”, Jojo chimes in, feeling his own annoyance spike.
“My suggestion was reasonable at least and wouldn’t have ended with her splattering into giblets.”
Thankfully, Gian steps in before the two of them can get into yet another shouting match: “May I propose the simple yet effective art of social engineering?”
Oh. This sounds like it could actually go somewhere.
“But we already talked to Jäger”, Shay speaks up, confused, and Jojo doesn’t know whether to hug or laugh at him.
“A tried and tested example of this involves carrying a ladder into various establishments”, Gian explains. “The key is to seem so average, everyone else’s eyes glide right past.”
Shay is still frowning. “Don’t call her average.”
“Darling -”, Jojo begins to set him straight, but is interrupted by Brit: “No, he just wants me to carry a ladder.”
It’s immensely satisfying to have Ivan raise an eyebrow and then, very quietly, murmur into Jojo’s general direction: “Match made in a very chaotic heaven.”
“Fairly sure we can find a recruit’s uniform that fits her”, Valenti picks up Gian’s idea and has the happy couple react with an intrigued ohh.
.
“Doesn’t look too bad”, Jojo decides as he inspects the sixth recruit in their group. Brit is noticeably too thin and the make-up peeking out through the holes in the balaclava aren’t reassuring, but she might just pass. “Are you a decent liar?”
“About as good as I am”, Shay replies in her stead, prompting the others to exchange glances clearly spelling out we’re doomed.
“In that case, just don’t talk. Leave it to us. If you’d be forced to answer, maybe pretend you don’t understand English.”
“Why can’t I be mute?”, she asks, making Shay shake his head.
“He’s much taller than you are, Brit, that would never work.”
Bless him. To hell and back. This is the same guy Jojo trusts with his life, and he knows Shay would never let him down in a mission. Yet he’s so child-like in the most charming way, wide-eyed and curious, gullible and excitable. And, at times, really really dim. Not that it matters as their continued survival rests in his girlfriend’s hands right now, and she still doesn’t seem to have grasped the severity of the situation. While Jojo isn’t sure of the repercussions to inviting a civ unannounced, they can’t be great, especially with their history of either demolishing or disrespecting anything that’s not nailed down (and even some of what actually is).
Trying to appear nonchalant, they saunter through the corridor like they belong, naturally crowding around Brittany so it’s less obvious she has no idea where she’s going and hoping they don’t meet too many eagle-eyed operators. Female recruits are few and far between, so it’s indeed possible someone like Montagne or Doc, who interact with them often enough, would raise an eyebrow.
Fortunately, the first person they run into is Rook. Not only is he well-known for being sociable and friendly, he’s also comfortable with English and French only. Brit can easily claim being Russian and avoid any questioning with a thick accent.
“Hey, guys”, Rook greets them cheerfully. “Who’s your extra? A new recruit?”
“Yes, but unfortunately her English skills aren’t -”, Gian begins just as the masked woman blurts out: “Ah oui, pardonnez-moi, je suis française.”
Oh.
Well.
The panic in her eyes is visible as Rook, delighted, starts babbling to her in rapid French before Valenti replies with a few curt sentences and then drags her with him accompanied by excuses as loud as they are insincere.
So far, the plan is working beautifully.
“I’ve never met an American who could speak French!”, Brittany whispers in her own defence as they leave the building. “I thought it was a safe bet.”
“You have something more exotic?”, Ivan wants to know. They’re not far from the gate now, with a bit of luck they’ll make it.
And then they’re greeted by another familiar voice, a voice at which Gian’s ears perk up almost visibly. If there was ever the equivalent of a friendship crush, this would be it – Gian would give his right arm to be able to bask in this man’s presence, which says a lot as the ginger makes sure not to play favourites. But Castle? Castle is his celebrity. Castle is to him what Sledge is to the rest of them.
Unfortunately, Castle is also well-armed when it comes to languages.
Jojo already sees himself ejected straight out of Rainbow as soon as Castle realises the new recruit in their midst is a fraud, which will be incoming in a second or two, as soon as Brit chooses Spanish or maybe German or even Latin -
What comes out of her mouth, however, is nothing Jojo has ever heard. It sounds so unfamiliar that his heart soars, even if there’s a shred of doubt still – it’s so foreign she might as well have made it up despite how confident she seems. It’s perfect. Whatever it is, maybe Arabic or Nigerian, who knows, will definitely throw Castle for a loop.
His confidence lasts for all of a heartbeat. Because the operator, momentarily baffled, responds in the same odd vernacular.
To everyone’s bewilderment, Brit doesn’t seem to mind as she continues, exchanging a few phrases with an increasingly jolly Castle and then waving goodbye before strutting off towards freedom, leaving the boys at her heels.
“That wasn’t Korean”, Valenti mutters. “What did you -”
“I can’t believe it”, Shay pants, and for once, he’s breathless, “you speak Klingon?!”
“You do too?! buy’qu’ ngop!”
Holy shit. Jojo isn’t sure whether his eyes can roll any further into his skull. This is so fucking in character for everyone involved he should’ve seen it coming a mile away.
While the two nerds continue gushing, to Valenti and Gian’s amusement and Jojo’s frustration, Ivan Ivanovic breaks off from the group, in the direction of the small office by the gate.
“I will tie shoelaces together”, he announces quietly.
.
That evening, when they’re all huddled together for warmth in one of their secret hideouts – the attic of one of Hereford’s practise houses –, the atmosphere feels different. Where just a week ago, Shay would’ve spent several hours typing on his phone, wholly engrossed in whichever inane conversation he was having with his paramour, today he’s much more involved. Not that he’s participating in the impromptu Smash Bros. tournament Valenti put together on the spot as soon as Ivan mentioned being able to beat him (though neither of them have ever touched the game prior to this), but at least he’s looking up whenever one of them hoots. Now and then, he relays Brit’s opinions about the evening, making most of them laugh: once they’d successfully jailbroken her, they all went to a nearby café to allow for some time to pass (and the poor barista thought she was getting robbed for a moment). Brittany must’ve really enjoyed herself nonetheless, inquired some more about Dante and those ‘weird polyglot Americans’.
Yes, Shay’s attention is slowly shifting back to them now that both bubbles have come into contact, and he’s probably hoping they’ll merge with time. Valenti and Gian seem relieved by this change, they must’ve missed him too, whereas Ivan Ivanovic is his usual inscrutable self. He gave nothing away, though he must’ve noticed Jojo has bummed quite a lot of cigarettes off him recently.
Jojo hates it.
He hates the way Shay’s entire face lights up when Gian comments on one of Brit’s remarks, hates how the others have just… accepted her. Because it doesn’t involve him. He didn’t fall for her womanly charm and he seems to be the only one who’s not picking up what she’s putting down. The others laugh and it almost feels like an attack. If he wants to keep being a part of this group, he has to like her, it implies. He better make an effort.
Even if he really doesn’t want to.
“Shay”, he addresses his former best friend during a brief lull, “how come you didn’t contribute any ideas earlier?”
The idiot either hasn’t noticed Jojo’s gloomy mood or has chosen to ignore it graciously. His smile is genuine, like someone whose faith in his so-called best friend is unshaken, and Jojo’s heart throbs. “Honestly, I was so happy about her being here that I didn’t even think. At all.”
“That is utterly endearing”, Gian replies, and Valenti goes awww and Jojo thinks: I’m gonna throw up in my mouth.
After Valenti has K.O.’d Ivan using Jigglypuff (something about which he’ll brag for at least a year), Jojo requests another cigarette break and only narrowly resists asking for a hug first thing when cold air hits them. The Russian is watching him closely, probably expecting an outburst of some kind and normally wouldn’t be far off. But Jojo’s feeling too pathetic to conjure up his trademark anger, and so they stand in silence for a while. “Is it just me or is she a bit of a slag?”, Jojo eventually bursts out when he can’t take it anymore.
Ivan isn’t smiling now. He takes his time answering. “Just you”, he says calmly.
“So you want to get into her undies as well, Ivanko?” The silence stretches on long enough so Jojo can berate himself mentally for voicing his thoughts out loud.
“No. She is nice. I like her.” The simplicity of his statements drives home just how true they are. With a pointed look, he adds: “We all do.”
And this we, again, doesn’t include Jojo.
#rainbow six siege#recruitverse#fanfic#jojo you biased idiot don't be so harsh#also I watched the great british bake off and basically imagined alice from season 10 for brit#just as lovely and all over the place#I have a gameplan for the next parts but god knows when I'll get around to writing them
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Complicated Friendships (Haytham or Shay)
This is going to be a three shot, with a choose your own boyfriend ending. :)
The pub was packed with bodies. It was a typical Friday night at the Stag Inn. Amber liquid swirled in her glass as she watched him from across the room, deep in conversation with a beautiful stranger. It was easier in her early twenties to brush her feelings aside. However, the more relationships she went through the less patient she got with his antics. The Irishman was still her best friend, so she tolerated it. Friday nights gave her the opportunity to get well acquainted with the various whiskies on the shelf. Shay usually hung around long enough to share a basket of fish and chips before he was off to flirt with the prettiest woman in the room.
“You’ll get wrinkles looking like that.” An eloquent voice echoed from above her, snapping her attention to steel colored eyes.
“Haytham. You’re off early.” She said sitting back in her seat.
He slung his jacket over the back of his chair before taking a seat. “I decided to take your advice, and let off some steam.” He said setting the glass of brandy on the oak table top. “You can stare at him all night, or you could tell him.” Haytham stated bluntly, taking a pull from his drink.
A scoff passed her lips, “as you can see, I’m not really his type.” She said tilting her glass towards the woman. Haytham’s gaze fluttered over the woman, and then back to her.
“I’d choose you.” Haytham said with a simple shrug of his shoulders. A small blush crept up her cheeks as she tried to focus on anything but the Englishman next to her. “She’s beautiful, but she isn’t my type.” Haytham continued. (Y/N) could feel him staring at her, and she dared to meet his gaze. “I prefer a woman who doesn’t need to tell the whole room she’s beautiful. The woman that every man’s been looking at, but are too afraid to speak to.”
She couldn’t recall when he leaned closer, but she could feel his breath on her neck and shivers raced down her spine. His sultry voice was like music to her ears, and he was the kind of man who radiated power. “Haytham!” An Irish lilt called from above the noise. (Y/N) straightened up caught in an intimate moment with their mutual friend. Haytham seemed content to stay close to her. His arm slung over the back of her chair, and she could feel the brush of his chest as he reached for his drink. “Shay.” Haytham acknowledged with a nod.
“I didn’t think you’d be sticking around for long.” Haytham observed seeing the blonde across the room giggling with her friends.
“Oh her?” Shay asked glancing over his shoulders. “I told her it was my birthday, and she’s a little eager to celebrate.” The dark haired man said with a laugh.
“Well, before you leave us to...celebrate.” (Y/N) said trailing off reaching into her bag. “I have a present for you.”
Shay beamed taking a seat at the table. “What is it?” He shook the wrapped box eyes alight with excitement and wonder. He tore at the paper opening the small box, “(Favorite band) tickets?!” Shay asked excitedly. “You’re the best.” He said giving her a hug, and a kiss on the cheek.
“Happy birthday Shay.” She said softly, the feel of his lips tingling on her skin.
Haytham studied his friend for a moment, "my birthday gift to you is that I won't fuck your best friend. I will however, walk her home." Haytham said downing the rest of his drink.
Shay rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "thanks Haytham your a real mate." Shay's words were clipped at the end.
"We can stay longer Shay…we just assumed you'd want to get to your...celebration with blondie." Her voice was soft touching the Irishman's arm. A comforting gesture he was used to from her.
He shook his head, "I was about to head off too. Now I don’t have to worry about you getting home safely." Shay said offering her a smile. He gave her a quick hug before bounding across the bar to his pretty acquaintance.
Haytham grabbed his jacket before offering her his arm. They walked down the street a comfortable silence settling between the pair.
(Y/N) studied the Englishman a moment trying to figure out how she ever overlooked him. She’d spent more time with Haytham then she had with Shay the past couple of years. The two seemed to get along quite well. "Haytham." She inquired, plucking up unknown courage.
He stopped for a moment, "are you cold?" His voice was laced with concern and he automatically reached for his jacket buttons.
"No, thank you." She said stopping him quickly, before continuing, "tomorrow isn't Shay's birthday."
"Quite intuitive aren't you?" He teased soliciting a playful smack from her.
"I'm trying to be serious." She said a slight smile on her face. It was a crisp evening, and the street was mostly silent. "You told Shay you wouldn’t fuck me tonight, but what about tomorrow night?" She peeked up at him through her lashes too shy to look at him directly.
He stopped walking, bringing her to a halt as well. He gazed down at her studying her features she felt flustered, "I only meant..well at the bar I thought you were dropping hints, and I..I buggered it all up. I'm so oblivious sometime-" she was cut off abruptly by warm lips.
It didn't take her long to get swept up in his earth shattering kiss. She'd kissed many men, but none had ever kissed her like that. One hand pressed into her lower back pulling her closer, and his other gripping the brick wall for support. Her hands clasping his jaw, standing tiptoed to be as close to him as possible. The rest of the world was drowned in his kiss. His tongue tasted of the brandy he'd drank at the bar. When they finally parted Haytham hung his head, eyes fluttered shut coming down from his high. "Since the moment I met you I wanted to kiss you like that." His voice came soft, and his eyes looked silver in the moonlight.
"I should have seen it. I should have realized you'd been there all along." Her fingers gently stroked his face, her (e/c) pools lost in his hypnotizing gaze.
Haytham's lips quirked up, "as you so bluntly put it. You can be completely oblivious my dear."
His arms wrapped around her, and she was enveloped in his sent of tea and brandy. "So is that a yes to tomorrow night?"
"Let's start with dinner, and then see where the night takes us." He said pulling back to kiss her once more.
She shuffled closer to him as they walked. The feel of her pressed against him made him feel light, and happy. When they finally arrived at her door, he was having second thoughts about leaving her. “Do you want to come in?” She asked unlocking her door. “You only promised Shay we wouldn’t hook up, but you never said anything about sleeping with me.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. The soft hallway light from her half open door illuminated her hair, and giving her skin an iridescent glow. “Are you always this forward?” He inquired, taking a step closer to her. She called to him like a siren, and he couldn’t resist holding her in his arms once again.
“Only when I know what I want.” She said simply.
“What is it that you want?” He inquired tilting his head, gazing down into her (e/c) pools.
“You..us..” She said looking down. The possibility of rejection was easier to come to terms with when she wasn’t getting lost in his piercing gaze.
He tilted her chin up, he wanted her to see the sincerity in his eyes, “I’d love to come in.”
*
**
He knew the way to her flat like the back of his hand. His head was pounding, but he knew (Y/N) would make a good brunch date. The thud, thud, thud of his hand on the cast iron fence echoed in his head as his feet carried him down the sidewalk. He grabbed the hide-a-key from a flower box in front of her living room window. The house was silent when he entered, which was odd. Usually she was up by eight am. He quickly kicked his shoes off heading up the staircase silent as a mouse. “(Y/N), let’s go get birthday brunch.” Shay’s voice echoed as he stepped into the room.
She snapped awake by his voice. “Shay, you asshole.” She mumbled throwing a pillow at him.
Shay then noticed the other occupant in the bed. “Haytham?” Shay asked his eyes widening at the sight of his friend laying next to his best friend. “What the hell!?!” Shay bellowed angrily.
“Don’t worry, he kept his promise Shay.” (Y/N) said pushing past him to start some coffee. Shay hot on her heels.
“What, so Haytham and you are an item now?” Shay asked scrunching his nose up.
She shrugged, “you always complain about hating my boyfriends. You already like Haytham, so what’s the problem?” She asked pouring coffee grounds into the french press.
“I don’t want to think of my best friends fucking each other!” He said throwing his hands up in the air in frustration, as he started to pace the kitchen floor.
“Oh grow up Shay.” She said with a roll of her eyes. “Every Friday night I watch you grope every attractive woman that walks through the door. Haytham and I could fuck in a booth in the pub and you wouldn’t even notice, so spare me the lecture.”
Shay’s jaw clenched, “you think I don’t notice the way he leans over you all the time, or the way he looks at you like you hung the fucking moon?”
(Y/N) froze turning to look at him, “you’re fucking jealous.” She leaned against the counter folding her arms across her chest.
“I am not jealous!” Shay shot back stopping his pacing to look at her.
“You’re the most insufferable man I’ve met.” She scoffed, shaking her head as she grabbed a mug out of the cabinets.
In a flash Shay crossed the marble tiles to trap her between his arms, “How many times are you going to kiss the wrong person?” He asked dark eye’s heavily lidded as he gazed down at her.
To be continued...
#shay cormac x reader#haytham kenway x reader#Shay Cormac#haytham kenway#haytham x reader#assassins creed#assassins creed oneshot
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Summertime Magic VIII
A/N: Sorry, it’s late but I have had no sleep because insomnia is a bxtch and my sanity is being tested. But I hope y’all enjoy.
WARNING: Angst, blood and teary moments
SONG RECOMMENDATION: TOO DEEP TO TURN BACK by Daniel Caesar
N’Jadaka was home, fresh out of the shower when he looked through his neatly organized closet. He decided to slip on a navy blue thin tee with jeans and matching converse. He put his father’s chain on and his gold Rolex with diamond studs in to complete the look. He took a look in the mirror by his front door before he left. “Fuck, can’t wait to get my shit blessed. Lookin’ like a pretty ass bummy nigga.” On his way to Y/N’s place, he got a call and grinned as he answered through the BlueTooth system in his car. “What up, cuz?”
On the other side, Shuri was in her lab as everyone slept. She sported her white lab coat with protective goggles and shoes as well. “Hello, prince. I am calling to see if you are ready for the youth center.” N’Jadaka steered the wheel with his left hand. “Yeah, but why the hell you up so late?” She held up a test tube with a glowing liquid that subtly changed colors. “You should know by now that rarely sleep. Just like you, dear cousin. Besides, I am working on a new cure for ones who do not have the bones of their former selves. This will be perfect for the elderly or just a child with a sprained ankle. I used one of the healing herbs from Zuri’s garden with a touch of vibranium.”
“That couldn’t wait until the morning. You need all the sleep you can get, Shuri.”
“I can sleep when I am dead, N’Jadaka. But I will be down to look at the youth center. T’Challa and Okoye will be in New York, planning for the center out there.” N’Jadaka nodded stopping at the red light when he turned to the right to see his baby’s future shop. “When you gonna be here?”
“I will be there in 72 hours so I want my room set for me. Clean sheets and all.”
“Don’t push it, cuz”, he said with a straight face pulling up to the liquor store. “Aye, cuz. Ima call ya back. Love you, sis.” She smiled and said, “love you too.” He stepped in the store and grabbed a hand cart; walking over to the chip section to grab a few things that were Y/N’s favorite. He strolled over to the cooler when he felt like he was being watched. He rose his brow paying no mind when he felt a target on his back. He put the drinks in the cart and looked through the glass door to see a figure mirrored against it. When he was about to get over to the icee section, a man stood beside him, just a few inches shorter than the prince. “What up, my nigga? You a little too close”, N’Jadaka said with a brow rose.
The man wore a floral jersey with jean shorts that stopped passed his knees. His skin was light skin and fairly toned with red beaming through. “You the nigga with homegirl down the street?” N’Jadaka turned faced to him with the cart beside on the counter, arms folded in front of his crotch. “Why da fuck you wanna know?”
“ ’Cause you with my homie’s girl? Dat’s why, nigga?” N’Jadaka looked him up, down, and chuckled which the man didn’t like. “The fuck you laughing at?” N’Jadaka looked at him in the eye inching closer to him. “Nigga, have you looked at ya self in the mirror, hm? You look like a Chris Brown background dancer reject. You look like the type of nigga that lipsyncs Trey Songz and lick ya ashy ass lips every two seconds on Instagram live and shit. Nigga, just moonwalk ya ass to where you ever you claim to be from and tell ya nigga that if he did his muthafucking job, like a real ass nigga like me, his ass would have never been demoted and I wouldn’t have got promoted.” He placed the icee in a drink tray when the guy still stood there. Without looking at him, he asked: “you still here, little nigga?” The man walked away and N’Jadaka paid for his stuff and left when he noticed a man selling flowers on the corner.
He pulled up to the house getting his stuff and knocked on the door with the stuff behind his back. Y/N opened the door with a smile and her hair under a hair wrap. She wore a black short bodysuit and damn, did she look good. He leaned down to kiss her forehead and then her lips softly. “Mmm mmm, lips are magically delicious”, he told her; that made her giggle with a small snort. “Come in, silly.” When they walked in, N’Jadaka saw CJ in the chair with a cape around his neck for his cut. “Aye, what up bruh,” Daka said and CJ gave him a nod. “Good. Good.”
“Oh, Daka. What is behind ya back”, Y/N asked as she stood in front of him with her hands on her hips. “Choose a hand”, he said with his brow rose and she smiled, pointing to the left. He pulled it from behind his back and revealed her favorite snacks and icee. Y/N shimmed and did her happy dance getting the stuff. “Too bad you ain’t pick the right”, he told her as he pulled out the right from his back, watching her eyes get big with a pout. He held out the beautiful bouquet of rainbow daises that were wrapped in yellow tissue paper. “You can have them but you gotta do something for me.”
“And what is that?”
“You gotta do that thing I love so much.” She rolled her eyes and smiled a little scrunching her nose for him. He chuckled as he handed her the flowers and she kissed his lips. “Thank youuuu, Daka.” She put them in a vase and placed them on her coffee table. He kicked his shoes off by the door and sat on the couch waiting. Soon, CJ was gone and N’Jadaka took his place at the sink for his hair to be washed. “Don't’ be falling asleep like last time.” After she washed his hair, she began twisting and finally got to the shape up. As she stood in front of him, he rubbed the back up her plush thighs and looked up to her. She kissed his forehead and smiled against his skin.
Once she was done, she cleaned up with his help and they sat on the couch, feeling comfortable as they ate snacks up until someone opened the door. Kesha wore a hoodie with a pair of shorts and sandals. “Hey, girl”, she said as she saw the couple on the couch. “N’Daka.” He rolled his eyes still looking up at the screen. “Koolio.” Kesha walked over the other side of the couch and sat in the styling chair. “Shay, your appointment isn’t for another hour.”
“I know but we can get a head start.” N’Jadaka held her down closer to him and she giggled before finally getting out of his arms. Y/N flopped the cape out and was about to wrap it around her neck when Shay stopped her. “Is it clean?” Y/N gave her look that N’Jadaka also gave her at the same time. Y/N wrapped the cape around and began to blow dry her hair better before flat ironing it. They sat in silence as the TV played in the background. Y/N looked over at N’Jadaka who watched her. “Yes, Mista Man. Can I help you?”
“Why you so damn pretty, huh? Old thick, cocoa butter self.” He leaned back and continued. “Ya got a man? I know yo cute ass do.” She looked at him with a smile and said “I mean I do but don’t you got a girl? You all handsome over there so I know you got one somewhere.” He stood, making his way to the kitchen and leaned into her ear. “I don’t have a girl. I got a princess.” He kissed the crook of her neck before getting to the fridge. Kesha sat there being irritated and aggravated at the cuteness. “Don’t burn me, Y/N.”
“When have I ever burned you, Kesha”; silence. “Exactly”. N’Jadaka pulled out the popcorn of the microwave and sat at the counter, watching Kesha being more bitter than ever. “Baby, guess what?”
“What, love?” He kissed her cheek and sat on the couch, eating. “Shuri gonna be in town in a couple of days.” Y/N looked over at him and asked: “so I finally get to meet Shuri in person?” He nodded. “Yeah. She coming out to look at the center we got up. Someplace in downtown and whatnot.” Y/N nodded and added “bet.” Kesha looked between them with something to say but kept it quiet. After her hair was done in a slick ponytail and side part. She handed the money to Y/N and watched her as she walked into her room.
When Y/N turned, she saw Kesha staring at her. “Y/N, we need to talk.” Y/N locked her safe and sat on the bed. “What’s up?” Shay beside her and said, “he changin’ you.” Baby Girl side eyed her and said: “the fuck are you talking about?”
“You changed. You don’t even call me anymore.”
“Seriously? I’ve been working.”
“And being with him 24/7″.
“Well, excuse me for spending too much time with my man, Kesha.”
“Well, you being a clingy ass bug-a-boo. A nigga shows you attention and you hop on him quick as fuck.” Y/N rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Look, I don’t know what is up with you but this is not the bitch I know and love.”
“If you love me Shay, then ya ass will be happy I’m with a man like him.”
“Psh. He just like any otha nigga from the hood.” Y/N stood and folded her arms, eyebrow raised up. “No, he ain’t. He a real man. He helps me a lot. Have you noticed that or have you been selfish?” Kesha stood and asked “excuse me? But I am only looking out for you.” Y/N asked “how, Sway? How?”
“I mean..” She stopped to think of what to say next. “Ima just come out and say it. He using you but you too stupid to see it.”
“Did you forget that I can snatch that fucking ponytail out ya raggedy-ass head?” Shay rolled her eyes and said “girl, bye. Do you see how that nigga looks? I mean....why you think he with you, sis? He can be fucking otha bitches half ya size.” That cut Y/N to her core. Her expression had dropped along with her hands. She was in such a deep thought, trying to fight tears. She always on the heavy side but when she got older, her body matured before everyone. She had to keep herself covered with big clothes to keep the boys’ wandering eyes away from her frame. Girls called her fat, chunky, disgusting and all. Kesha was there to make her feel better but Y/N slowly realized that Kesha had become one of the girls she hated. She walked up as she told her “you are just jealous.”
“Jealous of what, exactly? Look at me.”
“Ya jealous because Y/N got a real man who loves the way she is while you fucking otha bitches’ niggas”, they heard from the door. N’Jadaka stood there, arms folded and made his way over. He wrapped his arms around Y/N and told Kesha “you just another bitter ass skinny ass female who hatin’ on her homegirl because she got someone who cares. Y/N is a full ass package while you just the little envelope that muthafuckas toss away on the ground and step all over. Ya just another trash ass person with nothing to offer anymore.” Y/N stood still rubbing his arms and looking down. He held her chin up with a single finger and asked his lady, “you want her to leave, baby girl?” She nodded to stop her crying from coming through. He looked at Kesha then to the door and back at her. “Go. Now.”
“Whatever. nigga.” Before she left, she said “watch. He gonna break ya heart like everyone and ya know it.” Y/N looked to her and said: “add ya self to the list.” Y/N held her hand out and said: “I want my key back.” Kesha tried to not show how shook she was but it didn’t work as she struggled to take it. When she finally did, she threw it on the bed and stormed out the home. N’Jadaka had let her go to lock up and came back to see her sitting on the bed beside the key. “Baby Girl, you okay?” She looked up to him then down. He stood quietly watching her as she sat there, head to the ground until he held his hands out. She looked to him as he smirked and said “get up. I got you, baby. Always will.” She took his hands and he held her to his chest before they walked to the bathroom.
“Alright, little one. Look in the mirror, shoulders back and chin up.” She did as she was told he said “very good. Now, repeat after me, aight?” She nodded and he began. “I am beautiful.”
“I am beautiful.”
“Good. I am powerful.”
“I am powerful.”
“I am strong.”
“I am strong.”
He looked to her in the mirror and kissed her head. “Say I am loved.” She looked up to him to see his smirk and she copied. “I am loved.” He smiled and added, “and I matter.” When she repeated and he kissed her temple, they stood for a while warm embrace. The next day, Y/N and Daka stood in front of her store and said “I can’t believe I did it. This will all be mine next week.” N’Jadaka pulled her closer and rubbed her shoulder. “I’m proud of you, baby girl. In these couple of months, you did so much.” He kissed the top of her head as she wrapped her arms around his waist. “I can’t wait to get everything ready. Black tables, gold, and black furniture, cream and gray walls and a cute reception desk on the right side of the corner. Clean stations and everyone lined up.” N’Jadaka chuckled and said, “wanna hit the supply store again?”
“Yeah. I can see if the cha-”, she was cut off by her phone vibrating; she smiled when she saw it was her mother calling. “Hey, ma-”. Her smile suddenly dropped into a frown. N’Jadaka looked at her as she hung up; she was just frozen. “Daka, take me to Cedars.” They hurried to the hospital and when the doors open, she ran into her brother’s arms. “Where is pa?” He led them down to a room where her dad was sitting up watching TV, in a hospital bed. “There goes my baby girl.” She ran to him and held him. “Awe, baby. I’m okay.” She looked at his legs and asked what happened; he just chuckled. “Baby girl, I was working and I guess someone forgot to put up the wet floor sign and I fell.”
“Both knees are swollen and completely out of place”, her mom said to his other side. “How do you feel”, Y/N asked and he looked to her. “I’ll be fine.” Her mom added, “they wanna start the surgery right away but we don’t have enough.” Y/N looked to her wallet and nodded. “Let me go talk them.” N’Jadaka followed as they went to the desk. “I’m sorry, Miss Y/L/N but we have no choice but do the procedure now.”
“My folks cant afford it. What happens if he doesn’t get it right away?”
“Then he’ll be in more pain than before.” Y/N rolled her eyes away from the woman and thought about something. “How much do they need?” N’Jadaka looked at her as the woman said “5,000 more.” Y/N took a deep breath and nodded. It was either her shop or her father’s health. She pulled out her checkbook and wrote a check, handing it to the woman. She nodded as she left the couple alone. N’Jadaka watched as she sat down and made his way over. “Baby Girl-”.
“I guess the shop is gonna be on hold. I’ll have to cancel my appointment with the guy tomorrow. I can’t watch my dad in pain no more. I can’t.” She had tears fall down her cheeks and he sat beside her, cradling her. “Baby, I can help.” She looked up to him and shook her head. “It’s okay, Daka. Thanks. It can wait. I promise.” A few minutes later, she went to tell her parents as N’Jadaka. He thought it was great that she helped her father but then she had to go back to square one. “Hey, baby girl. I’m going to the cafeteria. Do any of yall want anything?” They declined but he offered to get them something to drink. When he got to the cafeteria, he got an incoming call.
“Hey, princess.” Shuri can sense the tone of his voice and was worried. “Everything okay, cousin?” N’Jadaka took a deep breath and said “I’ll be aight. Y/N’s pop is having his surgery and she used half her money to pay.” That’s when he got the idea. “Hey, cuz. When does your flight land again?” Later on in the day, Okoye met him in front of the hospital. She wore regular civilian clothes. He did the salute and said “you good?” She placed her hand on his shoulder and said “yes, I am. When does it start?”
“In a couple of hours. Y/N and her mom is still here but the brother went home. Did she give it to you?” She dug in her jacket pocket and handed him a tablet. “Cut it in half and put it in each of their glasses. Shuri said that they will be out all night until we are done. Shuri is bringing everything we need for tonight.” He nodded held the baggy. “What would I do without you, Ye?”
“What are best friends for, Prince? Good luck. I will be back in a few with Shuri and Ayo.” He went back and saw them standing beside him, backs turned to the door. He pulled out his swiss army knife to cut the thick pill, dripped each piece into their drinks and watched as the suds dissolved. He walked up to them, unsuspicious and said: “how you feeling, sir?”
“I will be alright because of my firstborn. Thank you, baby girl. I promise we will pay you back. She shook her head and held his hand. “It’s the least I can do, pa. Don’t worry. Just get better.” She kissed his cheek as N’Jadaka watched. Later that night, everyone was sleeping when N’Jadaka waited outside. Shuri, Okoye, and Ayo arrived in a rent a jeep and parked. They hopped out, Shuri had a backpack and walked over to him. “So, I guess they already did it, right?”
“Yeah, but they put a metal plate in his knees.”
“Ugh, amateurs. Metal is so hard to move with and the healing process will way too long. Let’s go.” They walked past the woman at the desk who was occupied and made it to the room. “Ayo and Okoye, stand out here and watch for anyone.” They followed orders and Shuri went over to the women. “Wow, they are really knocked out.” She knelt down to look at Y/N and lifted her arm. “Yeah, she is knocked out cold. She is really beautiful in person.”
“I know that, little one. Now, get ya ass over here”. She placed her bag on the hook beside the bed and dug info her kit, handing him a syringe. “Ok, this is the liquid form of the pill. Put it in his vein on his arm and he will be knocked out completely.” She whispered to Y/N’s dad as N’Jadaka finished. “You won’t be in pain anymore, sir. Thank me later.” She nodded as she sanitized her hands and put some gloves on, followed by a mask. She did a small incision on his right knee and pulled the plate out; she pulled out another syringe with the formula she made when they talked on the phone and inserted the liquid in his joints. “Okay, let’s see. What we can do?”
~
The next morning, the sun shined against their skin as Y/N stretched and yawned. “Wow, I was knocked out”, she said but when she looked to the bed, she got worried. She shook her mom’s shoulder to wake her. “Ma, where is pa?” All of a sudden, they heard the toilet flush. Y/N stood when she noticed her dad walked out, completely fine. Better than that actually. Her eyes felt misty as she watched. “Pa, how-why are you outta bed?”
“I had to piss.” He walked over to the bed to sit, not struggling. Her mom walked over to his side and asked: “Tommy, how do you feel?” He kissed her hand and said “I’m good, baby. I feel like I can play football again.” She had a few tears falling and her dad wiped them off. Y/N kissed her dad’s cheek as he thanked her and felt her phone vibrate. “Hey, babe. Left earlier today to shower and get Shuri. Don’t worry. I’m giving the dude the rundown for your shop. You will get a better one, one day.”
On the other died of town, N’Jadaka stood outside of his car and wore a pair of burgundy, pinstripe trousers with a white button-down, gold plate necklace, watch his gold-rimmed glasses paired with velvet black loafers. An Asian man parked beside him and stepped out in a full navy suit. “Steven Lu?” The man nodded and they shook hands. They walked into the store, looking around as N’Jadaka explained the details to him.
~
*𝒯𝒜𝒢𝒢𝐸𝒟 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸𝒮*
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#n'jadaka#n'jadaka udaku#n'jadaka x reader#n'jadaka x oc#Erik Kilmonger#Erik Stevens#Erik Killmonger#Erik killmonger x Reader#erik killmonger x oc#bp fanfic#summertime magic fic#summertime magic
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