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kenobisgalaxy · 2 years

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Catching You (Catcher Block x fem!Reader) | Part 1

fandom: Down With Love

pairing: Catcher Block x fem!Reader

type: series

word count: 2,200ish

warnings: none really, just Catch kissing another girl and flirting with you AND some casual 60s sexism + misogyny (that we obviously don't support on this blog)

plot info: You’re trying to make a living in as a journalist in New York City when you meet the Know Magazine journalist Catcher Block. This fanfiction tells the story of Catcher Block falling wanting to win you for a quick sex a la cárd, but in the end hopelessly falling in love with you.

summary: You encounter Catcher Block in the coffee shop you work at and immediately dislike his attitude. Later, he coincidentally shows up at your workplace and decides to win you. Disaster ensue.

a/n: I recently rewatched down with love and can't think about anything else but Ewan as Catcher Block. That's why I've written this first chapter of a little 'falling in love with Catcher Block' series. I don't know wether anyone is even up for that at the moment, but I couldn't stop myself. I have to say that there is are little historical inaccuracies in it because Turner Catledge wasn't the head of the New York Times until 1964 and coffee houses that work like this one here probably weren't a thing in the 60s, but let us pretend that it works like this at least in this AU. I was honestly too lazy to change it or write anything else.

masterlist

You had been working in this little coffee house up the street in New York City for a while now. Your boss was okay, your salary not so much, but it was enough to pay the unbearably high rent of your cramped apartment. If your parents could see you now, they probably would be anything but impressed by the degraded standards you were living in, they way you overworked yourself and the way you still didn’t land business in the city where dreams were supposed to become reality. Your brand new start of it in old New York was flopping so far on all levels.

For longer than you could think, you had wanted to become a writer. Journalism had been your dream ever since your 13 year old self had read a biography about Nellie Bly, the immaculate journalist that had traveled around the world as a woman all alone in this men-dominated world in only 72 days. If she managed to do that in 1888 when woman didn’t even posses the right to vote, you surly wouldn’t have problems to land in this business in the year of 1962, wouldn’t you? But apparently, this attitude alone didn’t immediately lead to ground braking success as a journalist. In fact, apart from a simple job as a secretary you couldn’t record any progress in your career whatsoever. As a consequence of this, you were forced to work two jobs at a time, since the miserable salary of your job as a secretary for the New York Times didn’t fund you enough to make a simple living as a single and unattached 22 year old girl in the grand business of New ‘emancipation apparently is a lie’ York City.

It was Saturday morning and as usual you were working your shift in the coffee house when he stepped in. You did not know him at the time, but it was the thing he did that made you remember him. Of course, he wasn’t alone. Linked in his arm was a stunning looking blond wearing some sort of blue uniform that looked like that typical outfit a stewardess would wear to work. And he? He wore a white tuxedo which you honestly didn’t understand because it was not nearly the right time of the day to wear such an outfit, but you couldn’t care less. In reality it wasn’t even his or her outfit that was the reason for the incident being stuck in your mind afterwards. Nope. It was the complete arrogance and ignorance of this entirely ungentlemanly man that was now standing in front you ordering.

“I get a black coffee without sugar. And what do you want, baby?” He asked the girl on his right whilst nuzzling the little crevice on her neck.

“A cappuccino, please, with lots of sugar.”

“Only the sweetest for you, baby! You got that?” He asked you bluntly still concentrated on whatever it was that kept him occupied with the girl’s neck.

As you were preparing the order you could observe the pair half making out right there in front of the counter which was enough to completely creep you out. These two should get themselves a room, you thought heading back to the front and placing the tablet with the two steaming beverages on the counter.

“Here you go, Sir. That will be 5,25$ whenever you’re ready.” You said barely looking at the couple.

“Would you mind bringing it to the table in the front at the window there.” The man asked you, still concentrating on his female company.

“Of course.” Not wanting to annoy the customers - although they were certainly annoying you, you did what he asked circling the counter and following the two of them with the order to the called out table. “You’re welcome.” you uttered placing the tablet in front of the man. “Can I do anything else for you?”

“Oh no, that’s just enough.” he responded between a kiss on the girl’s cheek that was now sitting in his lap. Can't he get enough of her? Some men are just never satisfied, are they?

You were already about to get back to the counter to take the next customer’s order, when it happened. You couldn’t really recall how he did and and why he did it, but somehow in a fit of a heated kiss he wiped his arm over the table knocking the tablet off the tiny table and spilling all the coffee over the tiles. But the worst thing about it wasn’t that he had made a complete mess, but rather that he didn’t seem to notice nor care.

“Sir!” you squeaked reaching for the cloth that was attached to your belt quickly trying to mop the floor and collect the broken pieces of porcelain that were scattered on the ground.

“Oh darling, I am so sorry.” he mused finally realizing what he had done. “What do I owe you?” He inquired as you were still kneeling on the floor, the coffee had completely stained your white tights.

“5,25$ and new tights.” You snapped sarcastically. “You still haven’t paid yet.”

“Oh of course sweetheart, take 10$, that’ll do. I might as well help you out of these tights later, if you’re free.” He smirked at you.

“Oh would you really? Who do you think you are? Well now that I know that you’re such a guy, I would politely ask you to leave this coffee shop. And if you’re already listening anyways. Would you be so kind and tend to your girlfriend, that is really not a gentlemanly request to utter in front of her. I’m fine on my own, thank you and goodbye.” You picked up the broken pieces having them collected in your towel and stormed off back to the counter. As you were taking in the orders of the other customers who visibly still were a little puzzled due to what they had just witnessed, you could see the man leaving the shop with is girlfriend in the corner of your eye. That’s really not a great start to the day. But you quickly focused on your work again and didn’t stress about the unpleasant incident anymore. At least not until next week.

You were working for the New York Times as the personal secretary of the new executive editor Turner Catledge. Well, that wasn’t really the position that you wanted. You obviously would have much preferred to work on the other side as a writer, but at least you were getting an insight into the business and that was something to be proud of, wasn’t it. You were overall doing a decent job, Mr. Catledge was happy with your work and you were able to get your tasks done efficiently and quickly. However, this morning things didn’t want to go as planned. Mr. Catledges first appointment was supposed to be at 8 o’ clock in his office with a man called Mr. Block from the Know Magazine, but it was already half past 8 and this guy didn’t seem to show up.

But suddenly, the door of the anteroom that was your little office opened and in came a tall and handsome guy with short, sleek, raven hair that probably had gotten hold of too much hair setting spray, piercing blue eyes, a charming smile and dressed in a checkered, well-fitting suit. A man as perfect as ever and as perfectly late as never. And worst of it all, it was the same man that had flirted with you so shamelessly and inappropriately on last Saturday morning in the coffee shop. Oh what a total jerk, this was gonna be fun.

“Good morning, darling.” He greeted you whilst you were quickly pretending to type something on your type-writer.

“Good morning, Sir. How can I help you?”

“I have an appointment with Mr. Catledge. Can you get me through?”

“An appointment? I’m afraid, Mr. Catledge doesn’t have an appointment at 8.30.” You chirped sweet as sugar whilst rustling through your boss's schedule.

“Well, the appointment was at 8.”

“Then you’re late.”

“Yes, but that shouldn’t be a problem, if you just let me get into his office.”

“Sir, before I can do that, you might first inform me about your Name”

“My name? Well, Catcher Block of course, who else should I be?”

“Catcher who?” you asked him pretending to be stupid.

“Catcher Block, from the Know Magazine for men who are in the know.” -

“Oh right, that Catcher Block. Okay then, Mr. Block you might enter Mr. Catledges office now.”

“Thank you. Uhm, Miss? Have we met before?” he spluttered.

"No, I don't think and if we had, I would probably not remember." You answered bluntly, silently celebrating in triumph. It was obvious that he was completely and utterly dazzled. This man really did think that the world revolved around him, didn’t he. And you just didn't want to play his game.

The appointment took its time, but you were well occupied with you work and didn't think about the man for to long. He was certainly that type of men, who thought that every single woman on this planet was ready for him at his feet which made him exactly the type of men you weren't interested in. What good was a man that only used you for sex à la card anyways? And besides Catcher Block couldn't be seriously interested in any girl if he was ready to woo every other women in a radios of ten miles including you. Not wanting to waste your precious time getting angry, you continued in your usual work flow.

You didn't notice him exiting Mr. Catledge's office after some time. You were absorbed by the article you where writing secretly after you had finished your main tasks. Thus, you didn't notice Catcher Block standing in front of you watching you intently and trying to figure out how he was going to win you. He didn't remember you at first, but he did now. You were the girl from the coffee shop that rejected his attempts of flirting with you. You were the girl that resisted him and didn't gift him single stare. You couldn't be that disinterested. Somewhere, you had to have a weakness, every woman had. But you were not like every other woman. Somehow, you were fierce, bold and sarcastic, not giving in. And he liked that. He liked that you resisted him and he liked that you were a challenge. Catcher could get every girl in the world with only a wink or a smile. Every woman was head over heels mesmerized by his charm, but not you. You didn't stare at him, you didn't flirt with him, you didn't swoon over him. But he would crack you, he would get you, sooner or later you wouldn't be able to say no to him.

"You haven't told me your name, have you?" Startled you were looking up into a pool of deep blue eyes. For how long was he standing there? You hadn't noticed, had he been watching you?

"My name, Mr. Block? Well, I can't seem to find a reason for you to need my name." You answered collecting your inner thoughts as quick as possible.

"I can't call you Miss all the time, can I."

"But you have to, I'm not gonna see you any time soon anyway, so you don't have to call me anything." You blurted.

"But what if I wanted to see you?" He asked slowly and step by step getting closer.

"I don't see why you should, Mr. Block. And frankly, I have much better things to do. If you would like to leave now, Mr. Catledge still has other appointments, thank you very much."

"You're not already taken are you?" He inquired boldly.

"I don't know why that should concern you?"

"Because I would like to ask you to have lunch with me."

"I happily decline." You snapped at him. Why wouldn't he just leave. Couldn’t he see that you were not interested

"Oh darling, but why? I don't bite - at least not yet." He mused circling you desk and bending over your should.

"Mr. Block, I must ask you to respect my private space."

"Are you afraid of what I could do to you?"

"Shall I call security, Mr. Block?"

"Fine, keep calm. I'm not doing anything. "

"Thank you, Mr. Block." You flattened your skirt and turned back to your work.

"But I do wonder- What did I just see there. Are you writing an article?" He asked looking at your type-writer.

"I'm not, this is personal." You urged trying to hide what you were writing

"Oh no, I should know, this is an article. But you're not a journalist, you're just the secretary, am I right?"

"Mr. Block" You gritted your teeth. "I ask you one last time, please leave my office!" You stood up glaring at him.

Suddenly, your boss's voice turned up on your telephone. "Miss y/l/n, could you get me some coffee please."

"Of course, Mr. Catledge, immediately." you answered. "Now Mr. Block, as you can see, I'm occupied with work, good bye." You said. But Catcher Block had already backed up to the door, having gotten what he wanted - your name.

"Good bye then, Miss y/l/n." You groaned at your name in his mouth and simply let yourself fall back into your chair in complete exhaustion. Catcher Block on the other hand, light-footed approached the elevator. At least that much he knew now. You were definitely single, he could sense that. Now he would just need to drink some more coffee on Saturday mornings.

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mrs-mikko-rantanen · 2 years

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Sparks Fly

1,573 words. Ewvanda. Pre-relationship modern!au setting. Mutual pining, but Avanda is a clueless dumbass. I say mutual pining but its Av's pov so really its just her pining really hard for 1,573 words. I've been sitting on this for so long, part 1 of ?

Avanda watched the dark grey clouds expectantly. They'd been threatening rain all week, but so far hadn't actually made good on it. She was starting to go crazy. Her living situation was already...tense. Ewan was practically moved in. If he wasn't staying on the couch here in the apartment that she and Thane shared, then she was on the couch in his family's apartment above the Base. That was ideal. Or, it would have been; could be at least. Maybe if Ewan felt the same way about her that she felt about him. Maybe if they shared more than a lingering glance when they thought the other wasn't looking.

Maybe if they were together.

But as it was; Ewan was only doing his job. And Avanda was only obeying her father's suggestions. She and Ewan weren't in love. They were both just following orders.

Ewan shifted at the dining room table. He had papers scattered all across it. Maps and plans; mission summaries and intelligence reports. He was piecing something together with a precise organisation in his head that was severely lacking on the table. He shuffled a stack of reports and sighed a little. The sound was copied by the clouds outside, who seemed to be letting out a low rumble of thunder in agreement.

Avanda turned her head to the clouds once more, a small smile spreading on her face. She waited for the first drops to begin to fall before she made her move.

Finally.

"Come on." She stood up from her place on the couch, pulling the hair tie out of the end of her braid.

Ewan looked up with a slight scowl. "Excuse me?"

"I said 'come on.' I'm going outside. As my diligent bodyguard, I assume that means you're coming too." She had made it to the door by now, and was kicking off the ballet flats she wore in the house.

"Lass--" She grinned as she heard the chair he had been sitting in scrape against the floor. "D'you not see the weather out there?"

"Of course I do." She grinned mischievously at him as she pulled the door open to the complex's shared yard space. "Why else d'you think I want to go out?" Without waiting for him to argue more, she stepped outside.

Her feet hit the wet grass and she smiled as her fingers combed out the last of her braid. The rain felt amazing as it landed on her skin, and she lifted her face up, her nose wrinkling as the droplets hit her eyelashes. She giggled a little and spun on her toes to look at Ewan. The young man was watching her through the screen door, his arms crossed over his chest and a small smile ghosting his face. He shook his head a little and turned back into the house.

"MacClyde! Get out here!" She called with a small laugh as her feet splashed in a puddle.

Ewan returned with her shamrock in hand. It was her only houseplant in the apartment; and a source of great pride since it was the only plant she hadn't killed. He placed it on the edge of the concrete that separated the grass and the patio space, then stuck his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall; shaking his head again as he watched her. Avanda laughed again and turned her back on him, humming quietly as her toes sank into the soft earth. Her hair was wild from the wind and the water, and she sighed happily as she pushed the tangles away from her face. She turned again to Ewan and saw that he now had a lit cigarette between his lips, and was tucking a lighter and the pack back into the pocket of his jacket.

"Hey! No smoking!"

"I'm outside." Ewan argued, "I was told it was fine if I was out of the apartment."

Avanda crossed to him now, the mischief in her eyes growing. "Yes. But I said no smoking." With a confidence that surprised even herself, she reached up and plucked the cigarette out of his mouth, tossing it into a puddle deep enough to extinguish it.

"Lass." His voice was thick with frustration and his eyes narrowed a little, but the smile that played at his lips still told Avanda that he wasn't really angry.

God she wished he'd kiss her.

She shrugged. "Bad for you."

He ignored her, pulling another one out of the box. He eyed her carefully and she held her ground. Wet hair hanging in her eyes and a crooked grin still painted across her face. He dropped her gaze and lit the cigarette. She promptly pulled it back out of his mouth and tossed it to share the watery grave of it's brother. Ewan let out an annoyed hiss, a wisp of smoke escaping between his teeth.

"Lass. These aren't exactly inexpensive."

"Then quit buying them." She shrugged and crossed her arms.

Ewan raised an eyebrow at her and held a third cigarette in his mouth. "You're just going to throw this one out too, aren't you?"

Avanda smiled. "You catch on quick, MacClyde."

He sighed. "Look, you're getting to do your silly little stress relief out in the rain, why can't I do mine?"

"Because mine isn't hugely detrimental to my health."

"You'll catch a cold." He gently lifted a strand of her dripping hair, brandishing it at her a little before tucking it behind her ear. Her heart slammed madly in her chest, and she was terrified he would hear it.

"You'll catch cancer." She argued.

Ewan held her gaze for a very long time, thinking as he clicked the lighter on and off, but never lighting the cigarette.

God she wanted to kiss him.

The rain was still pouring down behind them and the flame from the lighter kept lighting his eyes. Each time she noticed more and more about them.

Click. They were different colors. Click. The left one was blue, the right one brown. Click. The brown one was the same color as her coffee in the mornings. Click. Darker even. Click. When he smiled, they lit up like Christmas lights. Click. Right now they were nearly blinding. Click. And that was just with a teasing little grin. Click. What must they be like when he really smiled?

Ewan let out an even longer sigh now, returning the unlit cigarette to the carton. "Now what?"

Avanda smiled. A thought tugged at the back of her mind, and she wondered if she should ignore it. The thought slid between her lips before she had a chance to argue.

"Come dance with me."

"You're mental."

Avanda blushed a little. "Oh, come on MacClyde. You know you want to."

"I don't dance."

"That's a lie."

"You have no proof to support that."

"Call it a hunch."

Ewan blinked at her a few times.

"Come on. Please?"

Another sigh. He sighed a lot. It had annoyed her a little at first, but now the sound had grown on her. It felt safe.

"If you tell anyone--"

She didn't wait for him to finish the threat. She grabbed his hand and pulled him off the sidewalk and into the grass with her. The rain was coming down so hard that even in parts of the lawn there were deep puddles of water; splashing and rippling as droplets hit the surface. She laughed as the rain hit her skin again, and tossed her hands into the air with the thunder, pulling Ewan's hand into the sky with her's. He laughed too now, and she noticed that he was hopping on one foot, trying to pull off his boot and his sock. He stumbled slightly, and she held him up; shrieking with laughter as she started to tip over as well. Once both of Ewan's shoes and socks had been tossed to the safety of the doorstep, he turned and grabbed her waist, spinning them in a circle. The motion caught her by surprise, and she grabbed his shoulders with a gasp as her feet left the ground. Ewan spun her around and sang a chorus of some old Kerridwen song in Gaelic as he danced, and Avanda could swear she was flying. Almost as suddenly as it had started, it ended again. Ewan dropped her right into one of the puddles. Avanda screeched again and he laughed, hard. She scrambled to her feet again, flicking hair out of her eyes as she did; kicking water at him.

"You've done it now, MacClyde. You've really done it now!" She kicked and splashed the water at him. He laughed and splashed back at her. By the time the storm had passed, both of them were soaked to the bone. Breathless and gasping with laughter and--

--and Ewan's hand clasped her's tightly as he pulled her back inside. He didn't let go as he scooped up the houseplant and handed it back to her. He didn't let go as he opened the door and held it for her.

God, how she wished he would kiss her already.

But as his fingers broke away from her's as he went to get some towels, she was reminded that he never would kiss her. That was only a fantasy.

And yet….no matter what, they had danced in the rain together and laughed until their sides ached. And that was something, at least.