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debbiechanclub · 4 years

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Best Two Out of Three, Part 26

This is it: the last chapter of BTOOT 😭

I wrote a long, sappy post about what this means to me *months* ago when I thought we would finish much sooner than we did (whoops), so I won’t get into all that again. However, I will say that this is a huge accomplishment for me because I have never finished a multi-part fic until now. But I didn’t do it on my own. I absolutely could not have completed this in the time that I did without @hotyeehawman, and BTOOT absolutely would not be the fic that it is without her. So thank you so much, Lauren. We wrote a whole ass 123,419-word, 228-page mf’in fanfiction novel in less than a year 😳

And, at the risk of sounding cheesy AF, we couldn’t have done it without you all, either. The response to this little wrasslin’ fic consistently blows us away. SO THANK YOU. It means more than words can say. So once you finish reading this last chapter, please come scream at me in your tags, in the comments, in my asks, in my DMs. Because I cannot wait to hear your thoughts.

Alright, enough of that 🤧 I’ll let you get to reading 😉

Best Two Out of Three

Part: 26/26

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC, Matt Jackson x OFC x Cash Wheeler, Adam Page x himself

Word count: 7.8k

Warnings: Language; MAJOR angst

Catch up on previous parts here.

Tag squad: @freshlysqueezedmox @comeasyoudar @heelchampbucks @bec0m @betsy-bradock @linziland13 @gabbynorth98 @exe-darbyallin-exe @librathepheonix13 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @kingswitchblade

Callie pulled her phone out of her purse to check the time again. 8:57 a.m. She put it back and glanced anxiously around the hotel lobby. She and Cash had agreed to meet there at nine to head to Orlando, and with each passing minute she worried that it would be Matt who stepped out of the elevator instead.

Their conversation had played on a nonstop loop in her head all night. This all happened way too fast. Yeah, I guess it did. Over and over again. Except, in her head, it didn’t end the way it had last night. Instead of Matt walking off she called out to him to wait. She told him that the reason she’d been avoiding him was because she felt guilty about how much she enjoyed being with him. Her brain told her it was wrong, but her heart told her otherwise, and because she didn’t know how to reconcile the two it was easier to just avoid the issue all together.

And that’s exactly what she was doing now: avoiding the issue by going to Orlando with Cash. And she wasn’t just going for the day—she was staying the night at his place.

It had been Cash’s suggestion that she spend the night. It’ll save me a round trip, he’d said via text. It made sense; they both had to be back in Jacksonville for Dynamite tomorrow, so there was no point in making Cash drive four extra hours tonight. So, Callie had agreed.

But, deep down, she knew she’d mostly agreed because it helped her avoid Matt that much more.

She pulled out her phone again, but rather than check the time she opened the camera and flipped it to face toward her. Her double black eyes had worsened from last night, turning an ugly bluish color, but thankfully some full-coverage concealer had made them barely noticeable. Even so, she pushed her oversized sunglasses onto her face. The last thing she needed was people thinking she was a battered woman.

The elevator dinged, and Callie’s chest constricted as the doors slid open. Mercifully, it was Cash.

“You ready?” he asked as he moved toward her. “Sorry I’m a little late.”

She nodded and jumped up from her seat. “Mhm,” she said as she grabbed her suitcase. She couldn’t leave the hotel fast enough.

* * * * * * * * * *

The drive to Orlando was mostly quiet. Cash had asked her if there was anything in particular she wanted to do or see, but she’d just told him she was up for whatever. She knew absolutely nothing about Orlando outside of the fact that Disney World and Universal Studios were there and the little bit she’d seen when she’d stayed with Britt. But Cash didn’t seem bothered by her apparent lack of enthusiasm; he’d just grinned and said, “I got you.” It made Callie’s stomach flutter.

They dropped off their bags at his place and she met his English bulldog, Pawla, before they set off for their first stop of the day. Cash seemed excited as he steered his truck into a parking lot in front of a large complex. Callie, however, was more than just a little confused when she saw what it was.

“Go-karts?”

She hadn’t meant to sound so disappointed, but Cash just let out a laugh. “What? You don’t like go-karts?”

She didn’t answer, looking skeptically out the window at the building. For whatever reason, it made her think of Alex. Go-karts seemed more her speed. She frowned. I wonder if he took her here, too.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Cash said. “I think you could use the adrenaline boost.”

“I can think of better ways to get an adrenaline boost.”

As soon as she said it, Callie wished she could take it back. It had just slipped out, implication and all. She looked hesitantly at Cash. He was smirking.

“I’m sure you can,” he returned. Callie felt her cheeks burn hot behind her sunglasses.

“Come on,” he repeated as he unbuckled his seat belt. “I’ll let you pick where we go to lunch afterward.”

He got out of the truck, and Callie drew in a deep, calming breath through her nose as she did the same.

Maybe avoiding Matt wasn’t the only reason she’d decided to stay overnight in Orlando.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex still hadn’t gotten over what had happened at the Labor Day party. In a word, she felt awful. She wanted to text Callie and apologize again, but between nearly breaking her nose and all but telling her to stay away from Matt, she doubted she wanted to hear from her. So, in hopes of boosting her mood, she’d decided to sit out by Kenny’s pool and soak up the last vestiges of summer while she still could.

But, so far, it hadn’t worked.

Her phone chirped next to her on the lounger, and she picked it up and unlocked the screen. She had a text from Trent.

Hey loser. You have plans today?

She rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips as she typed back. Not really. Why?

She hit “send,” but instead of setting the phone back down she opened up Instagram. She clicked on Jay White’s story and let it autoplay through a couple more people before it unexpectedly came to Cash’s story. It was a Boomerang video of an indoor go-kart track. Alex recognized it; he’d taken her there one of the first weekends she’d stayed with him in Orlando.

A banner appeared at the top of her screen with Trent’s reply. Because Sam is in town if you want to come hang out.

That caught her off-guard. Sam, the boys’ friend who she’d first met five years ago. Alex had had no idea she was going to be in Jacksonville. Had one of them told her and it’d slipped her mind? But she didn’t think too much of it as she opened the text and sent her response.

Idk. After yesterday I kind of just feel like being a hermit today.

She went back to Instagram and refreshed the page—and her eyes widened at the first picture that popped up.

Callie, a bright smile on her face as she posed in a helmet at the very same indoor go-kart track from Cash’s story.

“Are you shitting me?”

“There you are.”

Alex nearly dropped her phone on her face at the sound of Kenny’s voice. He gave her an amused look. “You alright?”

“Yeah…” she started. But she thought better of it and huffed, “No.”

Kenny cocked his head in concern as he sat down on the edge of the lounger next to her. “What’s wrong?”

Alex let out a sound that was half sigh, half groan. The last thing she wanted to do was to complain to Kenny about Callie and Cash, of all people. But if she couldn’t talk to him about it, who could she? “I’m just frustrated with the whole Callie situation,” she breathed.

She glanced at him from underneath the bill of her baseball cap. He frowned sympathetically at her. “I know, baby. But you didn’t hit her on purpose. If she doesn’t believe that it’s her problem.”

“It’s not just that,” she interjected. “According to Instagram she’s in Orlando with Cash right now.”

His brow furrowed in confusion when she said that. Alex knew exactly what he was thinking. “I don’t give two shits about Cash,” she assured him. “He can do whatever and whoever he wants. Honestly, I expect bullshit like this from him. But I don’t get where Callie’s head is at. Where the hell does she get off blaming me for ruining her relationship with Adam while she’s off driving fucking go-karts with the guy who stabbed him in the back? It hasn’t even been two weeks since she left him!”

“Because it’s what Callie does,” Kenny blithely returned. “She thinks she’s blameless in everything and doesn’t take accountability for anything. This isn’t the first time she’s shown you that’s exactly the kind of person she is.”

“But we were friends, Kenny! Somehow, we got over all the bullshit and became friends, and then fucking Adam…”

She trailed off, her voice growing thick with emotion, and looked to the ceiling. She didn’t want to get upset. But it was hard not to. She felt betrayed. That was the only word for it.

“Hey.” Kenny put a hand on her bare leg, drawing her eyes back to his. “Do you want my honest advice?”

She nodded.

“Stop wasting your energy on Callie and Adam. They’re not worth it, Alex. You’ve given them so much of your time and effort and what have you gotten in return?”

A tear rolled out of the corner of her eye and she quickly wiped it away. She didn’t need to answer him. They both knew the answer. “I know,” she softly agreed. “You’re probably right.”

A corner of his mouth quirked up. “Of course I am.” He leaned over and kissed the side of her head. “I was thinking about ordering sushi for dinner tonight. That always makes you feel better.”

She perked up a bit at that. “Can we get sake, too?”

He nodded. “Yes, I’ll get you sake, too.”

She smiled. “Okay.”

He gave her leg an affectionate squeeze and stood. “Well, I’m gonna go get a workout in. Wanna join me?”

Alex couldn’t help herself. “Is that a euphemism?”

He grinned. “No, despite how much I want to take that bikini off you right now.”

She just playfully rolled her eyes in response.

“Come on,” he said, holding out his hand. “Endorphins will make you feel better, too.”

Alex emitted a dramatic groan as she put her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. “Not if you try to kill me like you did last time,” she argued.

“But I always take good care of you afterward,” he said. “That was a euphemism, by the way.”

She returned his smirk. “Yeah, I got it.”

* * * * * * * * * *

To Cash’s credit, the go-karts had been fun—but Callie was more than happy to take the lead on the rest of the day. She’d picked out a restaurant on International Drive for lunch (Cash had groaned and said that was where all the tourists went, to which she’d cheekily replied that she was a tourist), and afterward he’d convinced her to ride the Ferris wheel at ICON Park, where he’d pointed out some of the different areas of the city to her (Callie, who was afraid of heights, had kept a death grip on his arm the entire time). Then, at Callie’s request, they’d driven around some of the neighborhoods so that she could get a better feel for them (“Obviously, I recommend my neighborhood,” Cash had said). Overall, it had turned out to be a good day after all, and Orlando was looking more and more like the place Callie wanted to move.

But, the more time she spent with him, the more she started to wonder how much of that feeling was due to Cash.

“What’re you craving?” he asked as they sat on the couch in his living room.

“You pick,” she returned. Pawla lounged between them, and she reached down to scratch her behind the ears. “I’m honestly still stuffed from lunch.”

“Chinese it is,” he decided, and he pulled out his phone to order. Callie did the same, but to open up Instagram—and she found that Alex was the first person in her stories queue. She stared at the little circle of her profile picture, hesitant. But she was too nosy not to look, so she angled her phone screen away from Cash and clicked.

There were only two pictures in her story. The first showed her in sweat-drenched workout gear lying face-down on a gym room floor with the caption, “@/kennyomegamanx tried to kill me again.” The second was of her smiling in satisfaction in front of a takeout container of sushi. “He made up for it,” the caption read.

“I guess Alex and Kenny aren’t hiding their relationship anymore.”

She froze and glanced at Cash out of the corner of her eye. That was the second time that day she’s put her foot in her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “They’re probably the last two people you want to hear about.”

But Cash shook his head. “I don’t care. They can have each other.”

Callie frowned. She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but he spoke up again before she could.

“Do you prefer beef and broccoli or chicken?”

She thought for a second. “Beef.”

A few more clicks and he finished putting in the order. “It says it’ll be here in thirty-five minutes,” he said as he stood from the couch. “You want a drink? I have a bottle of The Rock’s tequila, it’s really good.”

Callie’s nose scrunched up. “Do you have vodka?”

“Yeah. You want it on the rocks or mixed?”

“Mixed please.”

He nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. Callie occupied herself with petting Pawla until he returned with their drinks a few minutes later. “Here you go; vanilla vodka and Coke Zero.”

“Oo, that sounds good,” she said as he handed her the cocktail. She took a sip. He’d made it just right, not too much vodka, not too little.

“So, what’d you think of Orlando?” he asked as he sat back down. “Did I convince you to become my neighbor?”

His choice of words made her stomach flutter again. “I think so. There’s more to do here than in Jacksonville, and a two-hour drive to work is a lot better than a cross-country flight.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I like it. Dax is planning on moving back to Asheville, but I think I’m gonna stay here. It’s grown on me. Plus, I like Disney and Universal Studios too much.”

“Yeah, I definitely want to check those out,” she returned.

“We should plan a weekend,” he smirked. Callie took a sip of her drink to hide her blush.

They fell into silence, and they both turned their attention to the random show Cash had put on the television. But there was something hanging in the air; Callie could feel it. She was about to speak up when Cash beat her to it.

“So, we’ve avoided the topic all day, but I kind of feel like I have to ask now.”

There was no need for him to clarify what he meant. “Matt?” she guessed.

He nodded. She shifted in her seat. “What about him?”

“Well… are you two not together?”

He sounded almost hopeful. She hesitated to respond.

“That was the rumor backstage,” he added.

She rolled her eyes. “Of course it was. But I guess, yeah, at one point it was moving in that direction. But… I actually told him last night that I think we rushed into things.”

“Oh,” Cash said. It was obvious that he expected her to continue, but her confusion over Matt was the last thing Callie wanted to get into right now. So, she deflected.

“There’s something I need to ask you, too.”

Cash arched his eyebrows as he raised his glass to his lips. “That doesn’t sound good,” he joked.

But Callie wasn’t joking. “Why’d you do what you did to Adam?”

He paused to cock his head at her. “What do you mean?”

She shot him a flat look as he took a sip of his drink. “I mean when you stabbed him in the back, Cash.”

Cash made a noise as he swallowed down the tequila. “Damn, not pulling any punches, huh?”

“You didn’t with Adam.”

He looked back at her in surprise. She didn’t waiver. He breathed out again.

“Alright, look,” he started. “I don’t have anything against Adam. I’ve known him a long time. But he and Kenny had what we wanted, and we did what we had to do to get it.”

She rolled her eyes again. That was such a canned response.

“What?”

“You did not have to do what you did,” she returned. “You didn’t have to manipulate him the way you did.”

His eyebrows arched. “Manipulate him? Callie, all we did was point out that Kenny and the Bucks don’t give two shits about him. He did the rest himself.”

“What?”

“I swear.”

“So you didn’t tell him to sabotage Matt and Nick in the gauntlet match?”

“No! He did that because he was upset about you and Matt!”

Callie’s brow puckered in confusion. “What?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “He told us at the hotel bar that night that he found out right before the gauntlet match that you were staying with Matt in California, so he retaliated by sabotaging their title shot. Dax and I didn’t have anything to do with that, I promise you.”

The room grew silent as his words sunk in, stunning her. That was exactly what Alex had surmised when Matt had confronted her immediately after the gauntlet match. But Callie hadn’t wanted to believe it, and after FTR had turned on Adam she’d assumed that they’d been the ones to put the idea in his head.

But if Cash was telling her that they hadn’t, then it meant she really was to blame.

“Hey,” Cash softly beckoned. She looked back up at him. His eyes were earnest. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t mean to make it sound like it was. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Callie stared down into her drink, tapping her fingernails on the glass. She appreciated the sentiment, but she didn’t agree. Not really. “Well, technically I walked out him, so…”

She trailed off and took a long drink. She felt like such a bitch. I shouldn’t be here.

“And?” Cash returned, drawing her out of her thoughts. “I’m sure you had good reason to.”

Callie didn’t answer right away, nearly draining her drink. Once she’d had enough, she looked down at Pawla and scratched her head again. “Let’s not talk about it anymore,” she said.

“Done,” he said, and she sent him a tight, grateful smile. “So what do you wanna do? Watch a movie?”

She nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good. I just have one request.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Anything but Mean Girls.”

* * * * * * * * * *

When Matt arrived at Daily’s Place on Wednesday, he had half a mind to go to Tony and tell him to cancel the mixed tag match. He had no desire to wrestle a match with Callie anymore. To be frank, he didn’t want much of anything to do with her at the moment.

He knew she’d been in Orlando with Cash yesterday. He’d seen her Instagram photo at the go-kart track and hadn’t thought much of it. But not long after, Kenny had texted him.

Hey, did you know Callie is in Orlando with Cash right now?

It had caught him completely off-guard. No? he’d responded. Who told you that?

He’d been more on-edge than he cared to admit while he’d awaited Kenny’s reply. Alex. I guess they posted photos from the same place on Instagram or something.

A quick search for Cash’s Instagram profile—Matt didn’t follow that asshole—had confirmed the claim to be true. It wasn’t a photo, but a Boomerang video on his story that gave it away. It was unmistakably the same indoor go-kart track from Callie’s picture.

I just thought you should know, Kenny had followed up. Matt hadn’t responded. He’d tried to put it out of his mind ever since, but he couldn’t. He kept going back to what Callie had said to him the last time he’d seen her.

This all happened way too fast.

He didn’t disagree; they had moved fast. But what confused him was that Callie had been the one to set the pace, not him. He’d thought she’d wanted everything that had happened between them.

But the way she was acting now made him feel like nothing more than a regret.

“Matt.”

“Hm.” He looked up from his phone at Brandon. He, Nick, and Kenny all stared expectantly at him from across the EVP room.

“Do you want me to film the mixed tag match for BTE?” Brandon asked. His tone that conveyed he was repeating himself. Matt obviously hadn’t heard him the first time.

“Oh, no. Sorry,” he replied, and he looked back down at his phone. He saw the three of them exchange a wary glance out of his peripheral vision. Thankfully, they just left it alone.

“Alright, I’m starving,” Nick announced as he stood from his seat. “You guys coming?”

“Yeah,” Brandon agreed.

“No,” Kenny wearily returned. “I got that interview with JR.”

There was a pause. And then, “Matt?”

He looked up again, this time at his brother. He shook his head. “No. I’m not hungry.”

Nick let out a breath. “Alright,” he said, and he and Brandon went out the door, leaving Matt and Kenny alone. The silence in the room was deafening. But it didn’t last long.

“Have you talked to Callie at all?” Kenny asked. “About the match,” he quickly clarified.

Matt shook his head again. “No. I haven’t talked to her period. Not since Monday.”

There was another beat of uncomfortable silence. Again, Kenny was the one to break it. “Look, about yesterday. I wasn’t trying to—”

“Don’t,” Matt abruptly cut him off. He knew exactly what he was going to say, and he didn’t want to hear it. “I’m glad you told me. Let’s just leave it at that.”

He raised his palms in surrender. “Fine,” he said, and Matt hoped that really was the end of it.

But then Kenny added, “But I think you owe Alex an apology.”

“What?” Matt cut his eyes at him in disbelief. “For what?”

“Oh, come on, you know exactly for what. For the whole reason the mixed tag match is happening in the first place.”

That confused him even more. “The mixed tag match is happening because Trent can’t mind his fucking business.”

Kenny rolled his eyes. “Oh, okay,” he sarcastically returned.

“What?”

“You called Alex a slut, Matt!” Kenny burst. “That’s what led to the mixed tag match! You accused her of putting Hangman up to sabotaging your title shot and you called her a slut for being involved with both me and Cash. But where was Callie yesterday? In Orlando with Cash, even though she’s apparently with you. So yeah, I think you owe Alex an apology.”

Matt sat back, physically stung by Kenny’s words. They hurt because there was more than just a grain of truth in them. But, at the moment, he was too stubborn to hear it. “Oh, so Callie’s the slut now? Is that what you’re saying?”

Kenny expelled an exasperated breath. “No, that’s not what I’m saying.”

“It sure fucking sounds like it is.”

“I’m saying she’s making you look like a fucking idiot.”

They were thrown into silence again, their arguing replaced with quiet, palpable hostility as they sat opposed on either end of the room. Matt’s eyes turned dark. He didn’t need this. Not now. Not from his best friend.

“Fuck you, Kenny,” he spat. He stood and stalked toward the door, and as he gripped the handle he turned back, a cutting remark on the tip of his tongue. But in a moment of clarity, he decided it was better left unsaid. The shoe was on the other foot now. So he just went out the door, suddenly glad that he did have a match. He needed to hit something.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Are you guys going out for Jim’s match?”

Alex glanced across the locker room at Trent, looking for him to answer Chuck’s question. He met her gaze before responding.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “We’ll probably stay back here and focus on our match.”

Chuck nodded. “Yeah. I wish it wasn’t mixed tag rules. I’d like to see Alex hand Matt his ass.”

“Oh, she doesn’t even need to touch him to do that,” Trent returned. “Didn’t he train Callie?”

Alex knew he was asking her, but she didn’t look up as she rummaged through her suitcase. “I think so.”

Trent smirked. “So then kicking Callie’s ass will be kicking Matt’s by proxy,” he said. Chuck blinked at him.

“Wow, you actually used that correctly.”

He sucked his teeth. “Fuck off. I know big words.”

“‘Proxy’ is a five-letter word.”

“You know what I meant.”

“Spell it.”

“Are you serious?”

Alex smirked to herself and let them continue to argue while she grabbed the top to her gear and a pair of joggers and went into the bathroom to change. Truth be told, she didn’t want to talk or even think about the match against Callie and Matt. It was a complete one-eighty from a week ago—she’d been aching to kick Matt’s ass then. But now, she just wished the entire situation would go away.

She finished changing and returned to the main area of the locker room. Chuck was still challenging Trent to spell different words. “I’m going to hair and makeup,” she announced over them.

“What gear are you wearing?” Trent asked.

She turned to face him as she pulled on her zip-up hoodie. Her top was a sparkly dark silver-purple with black trim. “This gear. Why?”

“Because we should try to match. I knew I should have brought the gear from Fyter Fest…” he trailed off as he dug through his things and pulled out his dark gray tights with the blue and pink designs. “Do these work?”

Alex gave him a soft smile. “Yeah, those work. I’ll ask Stella to do a blue and pink eye look,” she said, and she went out the door.

Unfortunately, she didn’t get ten steps before she ran into Adam.

He slowed to a stop when he saw her. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she returned, and her brow puckered with concern as she looked him over. He had his ubiquitous glass of whiskey in hand, but he at least looked better than he had when she’d seen him at the hotel on Sunday. “Going somewhere?”

He looked confused at that. “No… why?”

She awkwardly fidgeted with the sleeve of her hoodie. “Well, you just look dressed for TV and I didn’t see you on the card tonight. I wasn’t even sure you were here.”

Adam hadn’t said a single word to her since she’d texted him to ask if he was going to the Labor Day party. But she hadn’t said a single word to him since then, either. Because the more she’d thought about it, the more she’d realized how right Kenny was. It was exhausting putting so much effort into a friendship where she wasn’t getting the same effort in return.

“Oh,” Adam regretfully said as he looked down at his pale blue button-up. “Yeah, I just had an interview with Schiavone.”

“Oh,” Alex repeated. “About—”

“Where I go from here,” he interjected. “I said I was still open to tagging with Kenny if he was.”

He laughed wryly to himself and took a sip of his drink. Alex frowned and looked away. Kenny was not open to tagging with him again; she knew that for a fact. But judging by the look on Adam’s face, deep down he knew that, too.

“Where are you headed?”

She looked back up at him. “Oh, hair and makeup. For the match tonight.”

Realization dawned in his eyes. And then, sadness and hurt. “Oh, right. You have the mixed tag against Matt and Callie.”

“Yeah.” Alex fidgeted and glanced away again. She couldn’t bear the look on his face. But then she wondered: did he know that Callie had been in Orlando with Cash yesterday? Should she tell him?

No, she quickly decided. It’s not your place or responsibility.

“Well, I should get over there,” she said, gesturing in the direction of hair and makeup.

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded as she started walking. “Good luck tonight.”

“Thanks,” she said, and she turned and hurried off as quickly as she could.

* * * * * * * * * *

In the years since she’d started wrestling, Callie had never felt as much of an outcast as she did now. As soon as she’d arrived at the arena with Cash, she’d realized she had nowhere to go. The EVP room was out of the question, and she didn’t want to go back to sharing a dressing room with Britt—she was the one who’d blabbed her business all over Daily’s Place to begin with. Cash had offered for her to share with him and Dax, but she’d turned him down; she could only imagine the rumors that would start if people noticed her sharing a locker room with FTR. No, she needed to keep a low-profile, and so she’d found an empty room away from everyone else. Now, she sat in one of the lounges watching the show as she awaited her match, alone.

Orange Cassidy had just beaten Angelico with the Orange Punch. Callie had expected Best Friends and Alex to be at ringside for the match, but they weren’t. She looked away from the TV and down at her phone as Bryce Remsburg raised Orange’s arm in victory, but a commotion a moment later redrew her attention. Santana and Ortiz had attacked Orange from behind. The assault didn’t last long, however, as Chuck and Trent ran out and chased them off like a pair of guard dogs. Callie couldn’t help but roll her eyes as Trent angrily paced the ring, shirtless in his skinny jeans. She sincerely hoped Matt would get a quick pin on him in their match.

Chuck grabbed a mike to speak, but Callie’s phone buzzed in her hands and she looked down at the screen. It was a text from Cash.

Are you free? I need a favor.

Her pulse picked up a bit as she unlocked her phone to respond. Yeah… what’s up? she typed back and hit “send.” She watched as the typing bubble appeared and, soon after, his answer.

Don’t laugh. I can’t decide on a shirt.

Despite his request, Callie couldn’t help but let out a little laugh. But she couldn’t blame him too much; FTR was having an in-ring celebration in honor of their championship victory at All Out that night. He probably wanted to look his best.

Usual room? she asked as she stood to leave.

Usual room, he replied, and she headed off in the direction of FTR’s dressing room.

The door was slightly open when she arrived, and she knocked to announce herself before she let herself in. Cash stood alone in the middle of the room in a pair of dark navy slacks and socks, shirtless. Callie’s mouth went suddenly dry as he looked over at her.

“Okay, I can’t decide between these two.” He motioned to a pair of dress shirts hung up in the cubby behind him—one white with tiny blue dots, the other with a subtle blue and white checkered pattern. She walked over and pulled them both out of the cubby so that she could hold them up next to him. He smirked at her as she studied them. She did her best to ignore it.

“This one,” she decided, handing him the checkered shirt. But she frowned as she returned the white shirt to its place. “Are those the only dress shoes you have?” she asked, nodding at the pair of black square-toed loafers on the floor.

“Yeah…” Cash slowly returned. “Why? Is something wrong with them?”

It took every fiber of Callie’s being not to blurt out with, “Yes, they’re hideous.” Instead, she said, “Just brown would look better with navy, is all.”

“Oh,” he realized. “I guess I should have asked your advice before we left this morning.”

She smirked. “Is that all you needed?”

“Yeah, thanks,” he answered as he pulled on the shirt. Callie watched as he fastened the buttons, and she realized she was staring. She fidgeted and looked awkwardly away, but Cash didn’t seem to notice. “Are you ready for your match?”

She drew in a deep breath. “Physically, yes. Mentally… not at all.”

He snorted. “Make Matt do all the work. He’s the one who dragged you into this.”

Callie anxiously bit her lip. He wasn’t wrong; of the four of them in the mixed tag, she was the only one who hadn’t been present when the match was made. But even so, she couldn’t do that to Matt. “No, I don’t want to do that. And besides, Matt didn’t ask for the match, either—Trent did. All because he didn’t like Matt mouthing off about Alex.”

Cash rolled his eyes as he tucked his shirt into his pants. “That doesn’t surprise me. I think he has a thing for her.”

She scoffed. “You think he does? Please, it’s obvious he does,” she said. And then she muttered, “It seems like everyone has a thing for her.”

“Not me,” Cash abruptly announced. “I’ve moved on.”

Callie looked up at him, but he turned away to grab his suit jacket. She wondered if he had more to say—it felt like he had more to say—but before she could ask the door to the locker room opened and Dax walked in. He halted when he saw her.

“Oh, hey, Callie. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

He glanced between her and Cash. They both quickly shook their heads. “No, I just asked her to come help me pick out a shirt,” Cash said.

“Ah,” Dax nodded. Callie didn’t miss the little smirk on his face. It was her cue to go.

“Well, I’ll go so you can get dressed,” she said to Dax as she started to leave.

“Good luck if I don’t see you before your match,” Cash returned, and she gave him a tight smile and went out the door.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex’s hands were clammy as she stood at Gorilla with Trent. The mixed tag match was next. Unfortunately, it was right after FTR’s joke of a tag team championship celebration. She did her best to tune out Dax’s egotistical blathering as she rolled her neck and loosened up. She needed to focus. A match was a match, and even though she wasn’t looking forward to this one, she still wanted to do her best.

“You ready for this?” Trent asked.

She looked up at him and nodded. “Yeah. Are you?” she meaningfully returned. She still couldn’t believe that he and Chuck had challenged Santana and Ortiz to a parking lot brawl next week. On top of worrying that they’d murder each other, she was concerned that Trent’s focus was no longer on their match.

“Yes,” he assured her. “Don’t worry about me.”

Alex smirked. “Man, have I got bad news for you next week.”

He gave her a crooked smile; but then his eye was drawn to a spot just past her shoulder. She turned to look. Matt and Callie had arrived.

Trent scoffed. “They don’t match at all. Losers.”

Normally, Alex would have laughed. But it was obvious even in the dim lighting of Gorilla that Matt and Callie’s gear wasn’t the only thing off about them. Callie in particular seemed unsure of herself. Her eyes met Alex’s. She turned away without a second glance.

Back in the ring, the “celebration” came to a screeching halt when Jurassic Express dumped a cooler full of beer cans over Cash, Dax, and Tully’s heads. Thankfully, they returned backstage a different way than through the entrance tunnels.

Alex drew in a breath and shook out her arms and legs as the show went to commercial. But it seemed like no time had passed at all when she heard the distinctive beat of the Best Friends theme song sound throughout the arena.

“Let’s do this,” Trent said as he held out his fist to her. She bumped it confidently with her own, and they walked into the tunnel together.

* * * * * * * * * *

A boulder settled in the pit of Callie’s stomach as she watched Alex and Trent disappear down the entrance tunnel. She didn’t know why she’d expected Alex to be just as nervous as her. On the contrary, she’d looked laser-focused; her and Trent both had. It was glaringly obvious that they were ten times more prepared for this match than she and Matt were. The two of them hadn’t even walked to Gorilla together—they’d just happened to get there at the same time.

“I’ll start the match,” Matt said. “I’ll try to keep your ring time to a minimum.”

Callie looked at him in hurt and confusion. “Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s obvious you don’t want to do this,” he breathed. “So I’ll just make quick work of Trent and get it over with, alright?”

“SUPERKICK PARTAYYYYYY!”

The opening of the Young Bucks theme interrupted before Callie could say anything. Matt didn’t so much as glance at her before he walked into the tunnel, and she had no choice but to follow him out.

The crowd offered a mixture of boos and cheers as they walked out onto the stage, but Callie couldn’t hear them over the music. She stood awkwardly next to Matt and waited for him to do his signature pose, but he never did. He just glared into the ring at Trent, who glared right back.

BOOM!

The cannons on the side of the stage shot fake $100 bills high into the air, making Callie flinch. She looked back into the ring as the paper money floated down around them. Alex rolled her eyes in annoyance and turned to say something to Trent.

She stood stiffly at the top of the stage until Matt moved, and they made their way down the entrance ramp. Trent started jaw-jacking, but Callie tuned him out as she took her place on the ring apron. Matt, however, took the bait; Aubrey had to push him back as they yelled at each other. Eventually, Trent scoffed and turned back to Alex.

“You wanna start?” Callie heard him ask.

But Alex didn’t even get the chance to open her mouth before Matt yelled, “No, we’re starting the match!”

Alex and Trent exchanged a look, but she stepped through the ropes and out onto the apron next to the turnbuckle. Matt removed his leather jacket and tossed it to the floor. Aubrey called for the bell, and the match started.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex didn’t know if Matt was ignoring Callie, if Trent just wanted to beat the shit out of Matt, or if it was some combination of both. But whatever the case, the match had been going on for nearly ten minutes now, and neither of them had even tried to tag in her or Callie. It was aggravating, but at least it worked in her team’s favor. The match had effectively become a singles contest, and Trent had far more experience wrestling on his own than Matt did. That, and his cardio was better. If it continued like this, it would only be a matter of time before they won.

Matt tried to whip Trent toward the ropes, but he reversed it and pulled him into a side headlock. He pivoted toward a corner and charged, running up the turnbuckle to hit a float-over DDT. He went for the pin—but Matt kicked out at two. Afterward, both men remained still on the mat, taking what chance they could to catch their breath. Alex eagerly stepped up onto the bottom rope and banged on the turnbuckle. She wanted in.

“Trent! Tag me in!”

She leaned into the ring, reaching as far as she could, and he looked over at her. But just as he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, Matt hit him with a clubbing blow to the back. He grabbed him by the hair and jerked him into a chinlock. It wasn’t a move that Matt typically did. Alex knew it meant he was getting tired.

The crowd started clapping in rhythm for Trent, and Alex stomped her boot on the ring apron in time. Trent wrenched at Matt’s fingers, prying them away from his face. In response, Matt pulled him to his feet and swiftly maneuvered to hit a float-over DDT of his own. Alex bit down on her jaw as she watched him hook his leg. Trent got his shoulder up at two.

Alex stepped back up onto the ropes. She was tired of this. “Why don’t you tag in your partner, huh, Matt?” she taunted. “Worried she can’t beat me?”

Matt glared daggers at her as he climbed to his feet. “I don’t want to subject everyone to having to watch you wrestle,” he spat.

But Alex’s wit was just as quick. “Oh really? You look awfully lost without your little brother out here doing all the work.”

That needled him. She knew it would. But what she didn’t expect was his response.

“Please, you wouldn’t even have a contract if you weren’t on your knees for Kenny every night.”

For a second, Alex was stunned into silence. But then a white-hot rage bubbled up inside her. She ducked through the ropes and charged toward him.

“What’d you say to me?”

“You heard me.”

“Why don’t you say it again.”

“Get out of the ring, Alex!” Aubrey ordered.

“Matt!”

At Callie’s warning cry, Matt instinctively whirled around and dodged—and what happened next seemed to unfold in slow motion.

Trent flew toward Alex like a bullet. He crashed into her and knocked the wind from her lungs, sending her violently back into the turnbuckle. She felt a pop in her right shoulder, and then nothing but searing hot pain.

* * * * * * * * * *

When Trent realized what he’d done, he felt sick.

He hadn’t known Alex was in the ring. That DDT had left him dazed, and he’d been oblivious to his surroundings until he’d spotted Matt with his back turned to him. So he went for a spear. But Matt dodged at the last second. Trent had absolutely no chance to stop himself or correct course, and he rammed full speed into Alex.

He watched in stunned horror as she writhed against the turnbuckle. She clenched her right arm, her face screwed up in pain. She was hurt. He’d hurt her.

“Alex—”

Smack!

He was abruptly cut off by a superkick to the jaw. He crumpled to the mat. Matt dragged him by the ankle further into the ring and pinned him. The count sounded distant and faint.

One.

Two.

Three.

The bell rung. Trent felt Matt throw down his leg as the music started, ringing in his ears. He stared up into the lights, unblinking, while Matt’s arm was raised in victory. He’d hurt her. He’d hurt her and then lost the match.

“Alex,” he said again as he rolled over onto his hands and knees. She was still huddled against the turnbuckle, clutching her arm as Aubrey checked on her. He felt sick all over again.

“Alex.” He crawled over to her and put a hand on her knee. She looked up at him. Unshed tears shined in her eyes. It broke him. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “It was an accident—”

“Alex!”

Suddenly, Kenny was in the ring. He practically pushed Trent out of the way as he knelt in front of Alex. “What’s wrong?” he asked her.

“I think it’s dislocated,” she winced.

Trent looked at her right shoulder. It hung visibly lower than her left. His heart dropped into his stomach.

“Let’s get you to Doc,” he said as he tried to move toward her again.

But Kenny blocked him. “I got it,” he bit. Trent didn’t have it in him to argue.

He watched as Kenny helped her to her feet and ushered her to the ropes; he held them open for her so she could gingerly duck through. As she stepped to the other side, Alex looked back. For a brief second their eyes met. But then Kenny put his arm around her, and she turned away and disappeared into the back.

* * * * * * * * * *

Callie couldn’t stay out there a second longer. She was horrified by what she’d witnessed. The way Matt had taken advantage of Trent’s awful mistake, how he hadn’t hesitated to kick him in the jaw—there’d been a viciousness in his eyes that she’d never seen before. And she didn’t want any part of it.

She stormed off before Aubrey could even raise his arm in victory, marching quickly up the ramp. Kenny nearly bowled her over on his way down to the ring, and she turned to watch as he ran to Alex’s aid. But then she saw Matt coming after her, and she turned back around and hurried through the entrance tunnel.

“Callie!”

She didn’t stop or even glance his way. She just kept walking.

“Callie! What the fuck?”

That got her stop and face him. “Me what the fuck? You what the fuck, Matt? What the fuck was that out there?”

If looks could kill, she was certain she would have been dead on the spot. “Are you serious?” he spat. “I won the match and you just ran off!”

Her eyes darkened. “Well, I didn’t want to be a part of it anyway, right?”

Matt bit down on his jaw. There was nothing he could say to that. She gave him one last glare and turned her back on him again, praying that was the end of it. She just wanted to leave. Alone.

“I want your shit out of my house by the weekend.”

Callie halted. His words were like a knife in the back. They hurt. And suddenly, she wanted him to hurt, too.

She turned around again, her head held high. “That’s fine, because I don’t want to move back to California anymore.”

She held his gaze in defiance. But Matt just laughed, cruel and low. “Let me guess, Orlando with Cash?”

She faltered. He knew about yesterday. But she steeled herself again. “No. I want to move to Orlando for me.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Okay.”

“That’s the truth!”

“Was all this just a rebound to you?”

If his previous words had been a knife to the back, those were a blow to the gut. Tears sprung to the back of Callie’s eyes. Her voice came out strained. Apologetic. “No. I care about you, Matt. So much that it scares me.”

He laughed again and looked away. “Coulda fooled me.”

She took a step toward him. “Matt—”

“Have fun in Orlando,” he cut her off, and that time it was him who stormed off and left her behind. Alone.

#aew fanfiction #kenny omega fanfiction #cash wheeler fanfiction #matt jackson fanfiction #trent beretta fanfiction #the elite fanfiction #young bucks fanfiction #best friends fanfiction #adam page fanfiction #hangman page fanfiction #hangman adam page fanfiction #ftr fanfiction

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keanureevesisbae · 4 years

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Coach Cavill - Chapter 11

Summary: Amelia and Henry are going apple picking.

Coach!Henry Cavill x Amelia Jung (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 5.7k

Warnings: None

A/N: I don’t know Henry’s family (well duh 🙄), but I wrote them in a way it would fit into this story. However, please keep in mind that this is in no way reality. Also, I know it has been over a month since I last updated this fic, so thank you for your patience 🥰

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

After what seemed the longest day at school, I quickly drove home, so I could get ready for my date with Henry. I’ve been looking forward to it since the moment we agreed to it. I love apple picking and the fact that I get to spend even more time with Henry, is definitely something I’m not saying no to.

Yesterday morning and this morning Henry came by to bring us all something nice to drink (a caramel cappuccino in the morning just hits different) and to pick up his sandwiches. I can’t believe that this is actually happening right now. After divorcing Dean, I thought dating was out of the question, really. I figured Dean would move on with his new girlfriend (and I mean, he certainly did: they’re getting married and have a baby—I think that definitely qualifies for moving on), while I would sit in my house, surrounded by my kids and my friends and I’d probably date when I was over fifty, when the kids would be long off on their own.

I mean, I wasn’t opposed to it. I had been with the same man since I was eighteen, being on my own felt like an entire lifetime ago and I was thoroughly enjoying it.

However, I met Henry and it seems to fit. I wouldn’t have dared to dream someone like him fitting here so perfectly.

My house is filled with kids. They all know I’m going out and when I’m gone, they have the place to themselves and don’t have to—and I’m quoting both myself and Eve here—use their inside voices as Eve is still working. While Benji, Lola, Jake, Isabella and Yara are all hanging on the couches watching some tv, I’m frantically running around, in order to get myself ready for this date. I took a quick shower, to clean myself up a little, since there was a slight peeing incident today at school and unfortunately, some got spilled on me. Not on accident of course. Poor kid was really anxious the entire day, since it’s not going well with his grandma. Besides, my own kids and Eve’s kids all peed or puked on me at least once, so you could say I have seen my fair share.

‘Amelia,’ Lola says, as I’m pacing through the living room, ‘why are you nervous?’

‘I’m not nervous,’ I tell her.

Benji smiles. ‘Yes mom, you are. Relax, it’s not a big deal. It’s just a date.’

I sigh deeply, knowing deep down that it’s not a big deal and I should relax. It’s indeed just a date and I already know Henry. He comes by in the morning and gives me a kiss. Nothing to worry about. ‘Am I looking too casual?’ I ask them, as I look down to my tight blue jeans, the thick black sweater and the black ankle boots. I have my warm white coat ready on the backrest of the seat. ‘This is too casual,’ I conclude.

‘Mom,’ Isabella says, while she sits on Lola’s lap, ‘you look really pretty and I know that Henry thinks so too. This morning he said that you looked really pretty.’

He did what? ‘When did he say that to you?’ I ask her.

‘When you were checking your bag.’ Isabella smiles and I can’t even hide my blush.

The doorbell rings and I let out a high pitched scream.

Yara starts to giggle. ‘You can do this, Amelia,’ she says. ‘Really you can.’

I can’t believe I need a few kids to hype me up, but to be fair: I am a bit rusty in the whole dating department. If they think I’m a nervous wreck now, they should’ve seen me seventeen years ago when I went on a date with Dean. ‘I know, I’ve got this,’ I say as casual as possible. I walk to the door and when I open it, I’m met with the beauty that is called Henry Cavill. His coat hangs open, only to reveal yet another cable sweater.

‘You are absolutely breathtaking,’ Henry says with a smile. ‘I’m so lucky.’

My mouth falls open. ‘You have got to be kidding me,’ I laugh. ‘Seriously Henry, you are already the embodiment of perfection and then you say this.’

Henry looks at his shoes and from the looks of it, he is trying to cover up a blush. That is adorable, really.

‘I just have to get my coat. You want to come in?’

‘Of course,’ he says, when I step to the side to let him in.

‘Where is Kal?’ I ask him. ‘I haven’t seen him in a while.'

‘Greg and Annabelle are watching him. I can’t say no to that sweet face.’

‘Whose sweet face?’ I ask with a chuckle.

Henry simply rolls his eyes, but lets out a laugh anyway

‘Oh, by the way, you have to know there are three teenagers and two young girls sitting in the living room.’

He nods. ‘Nothing I can’t handle.’ He closes the door behind me and presses a light kiss on forehead. ‘Did I already say to you that you’re pretty?’

‘You told me I was breathtaking,’ I say with a smile. ‘But I did hear you were talking to my daughter about how pretty I looked this morning.’

He chuckles. ‘I might’ve.’ I feel his lips on the tip of my nose and my stomach twists and turns in a pleasant way. I almost forgot how the first weeks of a new relationship type of thing feels like.

I clear my throat as I try to regain some composure and together we enter the living room. Jake starts to make kissy sounds, causing me to roll my eyes. ‘Grow up, will you?’ I say to him, as I grab my coat.

Henry gently pulls it out of my hands, before holding it up for me, so I can easily slide my arms through the sleeves.

This man… Is he honestly real? I hope every minor on that couch is making mental notes, because this is peak gentleman behavior and I want them all to remember this for when they start dating.

‘I won’t,’ Jake laughs. ‘This is way too much fun.’

‘Well, I’ll keep this in mind for when you start dating,’ I say, as I zip up the coat. ‘Remember, I can embarrass you even better. Remind me, how old were you again when you peed on my porch?’

Yara pretends to vomit, while Isabella exclaims: ‘Ew, you peed on our porch? That’s disgusting!’

‘I think he was six the first time, mom,’ Benji says with a chuckle and Lola starts to laugh as well, before adding: ‘And the last time he was ten.’

‘You wouldn’t, right?’ Jake asks, his eyes enlarged.

‘If you don’t zip it, I definitely will. I have tons up my sleeve,’ I say with a smile. ‘Okay, kids, I’ll be back around dinner time. Isabella and Yara, please don’t touch the stove and oven. If you need something, ask the older kids, okay?’

‘Yes,’ the two of them say.

‘If you guys need anything, just remember, Eve is next door and I’m one phone call away.’

The five of them nod. ‘We know.’

‘Also, I’d rather have something left to eat here, so please don’t be swines and eat everything.’

‘We won’t,’ they all say.

‘And—’

‘Amelia, just go!’ Lola laughs. ‘We know how to behave ourselves here. It’s not the first time we’re alone here.’

‘Yes, mom, we’ll manage,’ Benji adds.

I nod, realizing I’m totally overreacting. They are home alone here all the time, while I hang out with Eve and Johnny. This isn’t new. ‘Right, you are totally right. I’m so sorry.’

‘Have fun,’ my daughter says.

‘We will,’ I say, ‘and Jake, for the love of God, don’t say: but not too much fun.’

‘How did you know I was about to say that?’ he asks, his voice a bit higher from sheer surprise.

‘You are fairly predictable,’ Henry says. ‘Even I knew you were going to say that.’

I finally manage to leave the place with Henry and when we’re finally in his truck, I lean over to give him a long kiss on his soft lips. He hums against my mouth, as he places his rough hand on my cheek. I can’t believe he actually deepens the kiss, but I’m not complaining at all. I could kiss this man non stop for hours on end, without getting tired of it. When we let each other go, I smile. ‘I really missed you,’ I say, ‘though I saw you this morning. Is that too clingy?’

‘Not too clingy at all, because I missed you too. I can’t get quite enough of you.’ He starts the car when we put on the seatbelts and he says: ‘I bought the ingredients you told me to buy for the pies. I also bought some whipped cream, because Greg told me if I were going to eat one of your apple pies, there has to be whipped cream on top of it.’

‘Greg is an absolute angel for reminding you, because I am out of whipped cream and he is totally right. Did you know I won the pie baking contest back in middle school with my fabulous apple pie?’

‘I did not know,’ Henry says, as he drives off. He mindlessly places his hand on my leg and I can’t stop myself to place mine on top of it. ‘I really look forward to this,’ he admits. ‘I have never been apple picking before.’

‘It’s so much fun. Pro tip: you have to walk at least twenty minutes before you start picking. Then you find the best apples.’

‘Good thing I have an expert with me,’ he says. ‘Greg told me it would be fun.’

‘You tell Greg quite a lot,’ I say with a chuckle. ‘Well, no wonder he kept wiggling his eyebrows at me yesterday.’ I wrap my arms around his thick one, before placing my head on his bicep. When Dean and I were still married, I could never sit against him like this in the car, because our seats were separated. Henry’s truck allows me to scoot over a bit to the middle, so I can melt against his broad frame. ‘I’m sorry about Jake,’ I say.

‘Well, don’t be. I really love the way you are with not only your kids, but also with Eve’s. It truly shows how close you guys are. I think it’s great you two live next to one another and you can always lean on each other.’

‘It sure is.’

‘Tell me, Amelia, how was your day at school?’

I tell him about how the kids were sweet today and how we made some Halloween related drawings. I even mention the slight peeing incident, but also that it was no big deal really. ‘How was your day?’

‘It was okay,’ he says, but I can hear his voice flatten a bit.

I look to the side, only to discover a deep frown between his brows. From the looks of it, today was not okay. ‘What happened?’

‘My mother called,’ he says, ‘telling me to come back home.’

‘Oh,’ I say. That can’t be good? ‘Are you going back?’

‘No of course not, I just arrived here. Besides, my life here is much better than in Jersey.’ He sighs. ‘She thought it was a horrible idea to move here. She also didn’t approve of my choices of work and sure doesn’t like it I’m doing it overseas now.’

‘Why not?’

‘Well, when you have four brothers who are either with the Marines, lawyers and all that stuff, you could say I’m the loser of the family.’

‘Or are you the only one that followed their heart?’ I ask. ‘I mean, do you even know if your brothers enjoy what they do?’

He simply shrugs. It’s been hard on Henry to open up, I can see that. ‘Henry,’ I say, ‘when I grew up, I wanted to work at the mortuary.’

‘What?’ he asks. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah, I went to my granddad’s funeral and I was in that age where I wanted to experience everything. The woman who helped us arranging the funeral, I was in awe of her. I went with her probably the entire time and she told me what she did for a living. I was actually planning on becoming one, figuring out to what colleges I had to go to, but then I went to Korea. After I came back, I realized I didn’t want to work with the dead, but with the living and preferably our future.’ Realizing that, per usual, I’m about to miss the point I was going to make. ‘What I’m trying to say with this, was that every career move I had in mind, it wasn’t something my parents wanted me to do. They envisioned me becoming a doctor, or a a lawyer, owning my own business. But they just accepted all the choices I made, whether they liked it or not.’

Henry laughs. ‘Wow,’ he says. ‘I just can’t believe you wanted to work at a mortuary. You sure are quite something, Amelia.’

‘I like to keep on surprising.’

‘Figured. What about your kids?’

I chuckle. ‘They have interesting plans. Benji wants to become a career judoka, but I told him he needs to think about getting a degree. He might be quite the judoka now, but what if one day he gets injured or he doesn’t make it? So he came up with the idea of either becoming a dentist or a coach, like you.’

‘Really?’

‘Mhm and to be honest, I’m leaning more towards coach. I think he would be really good at that. He really has an eye for the details, with not only himself, but also with others. And Isabella wants to be famous, but she hasn’t figured out how she’ll get famous.’

He nods. ‘And you support them?’

‘Of course, they are my kids. The point is that your parents should accept you and your choices. The idea of parenting is that you prepare your kids to be ready for the world, not to dictate their lives. You might have an idea of what type of career fits them best, but they have to decide for themselves, make their own choices and mistakes. Besides, I could think of worse career moves. I mean, a judo coach is a great job and being famous… It’s quite something, I have to give her that and with Isabella’s personality, she would enjoy it so much. She loves being in the spotlights, preferably alone.’

‘You’re an excellent mother. Mine could learn a thing or two from you.’ Henry parks the car on the lot, but doesn’t get out. It’s almost like he wants to say something else to me. Knowing how hard it can be for some people to open up, I decide to wait and see whether or not he wants to tell me what is on his heart. ‘You know,’ he starts with a sigh, ‘my mom never went to one of my games.’

‘Are you kidding me?’ I ask him. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Seeing these kids here, with their entire support system at the games, it warms my heart. I’m happy they have that.’

I study his face. ‘But you can be a bit jealous,’ I say. ‘That’s allowed.’

‘By you?’

‘By everyone. We all want something we didn’t have growing up and that’s normal. Parents try—or at least it appears as if they do—but they can never give their kids what they deserve. It pains me to know that there are things that I can’t provide for my kids or that I can’t meet their needs. I remember when I was doing my first internship at a primary school, I saw this mother who had four beautiful daughters. That’s what I wanted: sisters or brothers. I was all alone growing up and people would kill for that, but I just wanted a companion within my family. But my parents couldn’t give me that.’ I send him a reassuring smile. ‘Believe me, it can be hard to see kids who have what you have always wanted growing up or kids that are deprived of that what you had.’

Henry nods. ‘Wise woman you are.’

‘Shut up.’

‘I mean it! And just know that when I look over at the bleachers now and I see you, I realize that you are my support system.’

That is the sweetest thing someone has ever said to me.

We get out of the car and all the nerves I experienced back in my own house, are all gone now, especially when he reaches over to hold my hand. Being around Henry is so easy and it worried me a bit I didn’t feel so tense and nervous around him. When I first started dating Dean, I was a nervous wreck for at least two months. But maybe it’s unfair to compare teen Amelia, to adult Amelia who is divorced and has two kids.

When we arrive at the apple picking field, Henry hands me a bucket and together we walk over the grass, finding the spot with the best apples. ‘So tell me all about the divorce, Henry.’

He chuckles. ‘How long have you been thinking about this?’

‘To be fair? The second you told me about it. I mean, who would divorce you?’

‘I could say the same thing about you. You are the catch of the town.’

‘You are too,’ I say.

He bites his bottom lip as he stares ahead of him. ‘Okay, so I told you that my parents wanted me to marry her and her family wanted her to marry me.’

‘Yes.’

‘And how she dated my friend behind my back and we got divorced, right?’

‘Yes. I’m just curious to why you agreed to it?’

He snickers. ‘It had to do with a trust fund.’

‘Trust fund? That is honestly a thing?’ I ask.

Henry nods. ‘It is. So, if I married her, I would eventually get access to the trust fund.’

Eventually. That isn’t promising. ‘But you got divorced,’ I note. ‘What happened to the trust fund?’

‘It is now a yacht, owned by my parents.’

I place my hand on his arm. ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’

‘Never expected the word fucking to leave the lips of kindergarten teacher Amelia Jung,’ he chuckles. ‘But no, I’m not kidding. When I divorced Vera, that’s my ex, they knew she slept with my best friend, but they blamed me.’

This is absolutely infuriating me. ‘You have to give me your parents’ number,’ I say in all seriousness, ‘so I can call them and tell them their parenting style is honestly unbelievable. Henry you are a grown man! You should decide for yourself who you are dating or what kind of career you want to pursue. And that trust fund thing, how low, my goodness.’

Henry chuckles. ‘You understand why I had to leave?’

‘Oh, I more than understand, I just wonder why you didn’t leave sooner. I really don’t want to talk badly about your parents since I don’t know them, but this crosses a line. What an idiots.’

He nudges my side. ‘This fired up look really suits you, Amelia,’ he admits. ‘I like it.’

I look up and he smiles. He is so beautiful, my oh my. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Always.’

‘How rich are your parents? I don’t need a number, but just an indication.’

‘They are pretty rich,’ he says. ‘Like, there is a possibility we would have marry a distant cousin to keep the money in the family, if there are no more trusted family friends who are single.’

Why do I know exactly what kind of family this is about? ‘I didn’t know Jersey had those types of rich.’

‘We keep on surprising,’ he chuckles. ‘Honestly, I never really fitted in, always the black sheep of the family. I’m just grateful I’m out of there and living my own life, even if it’s at age thirty eight.’

‘Luna Meadows sure is lucky to have you here.’ I stand on my toes, to give him a kiss on his soft lips. ‘You sure you don’t want me to call your parents?’

‘I don’t think they are ready for that,’ he smiles. ‘If they find out I’m dating you, they’ll flip.’

Oh my, we’re dating? Is that what he is saying? ‘Is it because I’m Korean?’

He shakes his head. ‘No, it’s more you having kids.’

‘Don’t your parents want grandkids? I thought everyone with kids is desperate to become grandparents.’

‘They do, just blood related grandkids.’

I simply scoff. ‘Your parents are a piece of work.’

‘You can say that again.’ I’m already opening my mouth, but he is way ahead of me. ‘Don’t even think about it,’ he chuckles. We start picking some good looking apples, as the late autumn sun warms my back. ‘Okay Amelia, I see a nice apple, but I can’t reach.’

‘Well, that sucks,’ I say, ‘because of you can’t reach it, I certainly ca— Oh no! Henry, put me down!’ I scream as he wraps his arm around my legs, lifting me up.

‘It’s the one on your right,’ he tells me, but I have closed my eyes shut. ‘Come on, Jung, it’s not that high!’

‘It is!’ I say. ‘You know I’m afraid of heights.’

‘I know you are. Just pick that one apple.’

I manage to open only one eye and quickly grab the one on my right. After I nearly broke the branch while picking it, he carefully puts me down. ‘That wasn’t funny, coach Cavill,’ I tell him, pointing dangerously at him with my pointer finger.

‘Oh look at that,’ he chuckles, ‘the teacher-finger.’

I try not to smile, but I fail. ‘Shut up.’

He bites his bottom lip, only making my heart pound really fast. Is he aware of the effect he has on my heart, especially when he does that? Henry leans in to give me a quick peck on my lips.

Amelia, please, now is not the time to faint.

‘Excuse me,’ I hear a voice behind me say and I cannot believe it’s Trixie again. Of course she is here, to ruin my fantastic date. She accidentally sat in the booth next to me on my second date with Dean, together with her friends. ‘Coach Cavill, I wanted to talk to you about George, is now a good time?’

I want to smack that smug grin of her face. No, now isn’t a good time and any human being with even one braincell could’ve figured that out.

Henry clears his throat, obviously a little caught off guard. ‘Uh, what did you wanted to talk about?’ he asks, as he scratches himself in the back of his neck.

‘His progress.’

Well, I can tell her all about that: her twelve year old is just as bad as he was three years ago. There is no progress with George Yates.

‘I think we should have that conversation a little later,’ Henry says with a professional tone, ‘when we’re at the center for example. I have video material and all. We could have a chat tomorrow, before training.’

‘Can’t wait,’ she says. ‘Amelia, are you having fun?’

‘Mhm, we’re going to make an apple pie at his place,’ I say, holding up the basket. ‘Remember, back in middle school when we were in that pie baking contest and I made one of my famous apple pies. What did you make again?’

Her face grows pale.

‘Oh right, pecan pie, with that very dark crust.’

Trixie is ready to skin me alive and honestly, I can’t really blame her, because I have been in her shoes more than once. For years her words would stab me like knives and now it’s the other way around. I remember when I came back from Korea, the way she gave me a hard time because my band Forever Hope disbanded. I mean, what did she accomplishment in those years? A date with Lucas Yates?

However, back then I just ignored her, but now I can’t. She will do anything to discredit me, but after that last phone call I had with Eve, when Trixie told me how I did not want to host a baby shower and a sweet sixteen at the same time, I felt this newly gained power to not allow her words to get to me.

I came to the realization that Trixie is still stuck in her high school mentality, while I grew up and actually matured. This gossiping and undermining thing was ridiculous back in school, but now… It’s still ridiculous, but also just plain pathetic. And maybe my comments aren’t exactly mature, but this is honestly just a small part of the payback she deserves after all those years of nearly bullying me.

‘Well, Trixie, Henry and I have some baking to do. See you later.’ I grab Henry by his hand and pull him with me. Henry doesn’t say a word on our way back to the truck, but once we’re both seated, he starts to laugh. ‘What?’ I ask.

‘How much underlying anger was in that conversation?’

‘Oh, quite a lot,’ I chuckle. I try not to think about the whole kid thing, because I honestly think it’s too soon for Henry and I to have that discussion. ‘Trixie and I go way back and I just felt this need to tell her off. Sorry.’

‘No need for apologies, remember?’ He places his hand on my leg and gives me a comforting squeeze. ‘Just so you know: I like you seeing you like this.’ He leans over and presses a kiss on my lips. ‘Now let’s go and make that famous apple pie of yours.’

✰ ✰ ✰

Making apple pie with Henry was nearly impossible. For starters, I had to make a checklist of every single thing that needed to be done at his place and spoiler alert: it’s a lot. I don’t want to call this place a dump, but… It kind of resembles one, if I’m being honest. When I finally managed to get myself to the kitchen, he continued to distract me with hugs and kisses. I mean, it’s not the worst thing I could think of (it was quite romantic), but once I’m baking pies, there is just this instant switch and I have a severe case of tunnel vision.

But of course, I managed to pull it off, with shockingly little help of Henry (but he made it all up by being handsome and handing me the stuff I needed). Now we are waiting for the three pies to cool a bit, as we are sitting on the couch. ‘I didn’t get any texts from the kids,’ I say, as I stare at my phone. ‘Or Eve for that matter. Are they okay?’

‘I think you are worrying too much.’

‘I’m not,’ I tell him, but when I look up and see his eyes, I realize I’m lying. ‘Okay, maybe I worry too much. It’s a trait I got only after the divorce. I usually was pretty chilled, very laid back, however when they went to their dad for the first time after the divorce… I was a nervous wreck. I think I finished up an entire bottle of wine and some.’

‘Oh no,’ he chuckles. ‘I’m sorry.’ He wraps an arm around my shoulders and lets out a sigh. ‘But I think it’s a mom’s job to worry.’

‘Yeah, part of the job, indeed.’

He doesn’t say anything for a while, but then he breaks the silence by saying: ‘You know, I keep thinking about Benji and that… anger outburst he had the other day.’

‘I know, I know, we’re trying to work on it, but… He just bottles up all of his emotions and then they come out uncontrolled. It’s so uncharacteristic of him, but he has been having them since he was little. I just worry sometimes he might hurt someone.’

‘I understand,’ Henry whispers.

‘But when he was younger, he would also save it when it was just us, when his dad wasn’t around. Probably because I just let him have his rage, before finally stopping when it was about to get out of hand. Dean on the other hand would get really angry. I think he felt and still feels safer to do it when he is with me.’

‘Understandable.’

‘I just worry a lot and that resulted in quite a few grey hairs.’

‘Listen,’ he says, ‘you are doing an excellent job, that I can guarantee. I mean, listen only to my parents and how much of a train wreck they are.’

I chuckle. ‘That’s a wonderful compliment, thanks for that, Henry.’

‘You understand what I mean.’

‘I sure do and… I know I’m doing good, but sometimes I just lack so much in my own opinion.’ I lean towards him, to press a long kiss on his lips. Before he can say anything to that last statement I made, I say: ‘We should get going. Think the pies are ready.’

‘And you desperately want to get back to your children, copy that.’

Henry and I get in his truck, with the slightly steaming pies covered in tea towels so you won’t burn your hands when you hold them. I adore being in a car with him, especially when he places his hand on my thigh. When we arrive home, Henry holds the pies in his hands and when I open the door, I only hear Isabella’s and Benji’s laughs, meaning the other kids went home. I’ll bring the other pie to Eve’s tonight. ‘Hi sweeties,’ I say when I walk into the living room, seeing the two of them on the couch.

‘Mom!’ They jump up and rush towards me and hug me close. ‘How was it?’ Benji asks.

‘It was wonderful,’ Henry says, ‘and you kids are lucky your mom loves you a lot, because otherwise I would’ve eaten all of this all by myself.’

Benji holds out his hands to help Henry out and brings the pies to the kitchen. Isabella jumps up and with one arm he balances her on his hip. ‘You wouldn’t, right?’

‘Oh, I think he would,’ I chuckle.

We walk to the kitchen, where Benji already has four plates prepared. ‘Oh shoot,’ I say to Henry, ‘I left the whipped cream in the car.’

‘I’ll get it, no worries,’ he says with a smile, before turning around, as he grabs his keys from the counter.

When he is out of hearing distance, Isabella pokes my arm. ‘And?’

‘And what?’ I ask her.

‘Did you two kiss again?’

The fact that I’m stammering, is the answer to her question. ‘Why do you care?’ Benji asks his little sister.

‘It’s just so romantic,’ she exclaims and wraps her arms around my shoulders, pressing her cheek against mine.

Henry walks back in with the whipped cream, tosses it up, before catching it with his other hand. Show off, I think to myself. ‘Who wants some?’ he asks.

‘I do, I do!’ Isabella says.

‘On your nose or on the pie?’ Henry asks with a smile.

‘On the pie,’ she chuckles. ‘You are a pig.’

‘You can’t just call people pigs,’ I say to her, softly squeezing her side.

‘You do it all the time, mom.’

‘Some things need to stay within the Jung family, honey,’ I whisper in her ear. ‘Okay, Isabella, pick a piece.’

We take our plates with the piece of pie and the whipped cream and sit at the table. Benji is seated next to me and when I look to the side, I notice him looking at Henry and how he is treating Isabella. I bump my knee against his and our eyes meet. My sweet boy, I think to myself. He sends me a quick smile and I chuckle.

‘Benji and Isabella, do you mind if I talk to you two about something?’

‘Is it something we did?’ Benji asks, his voice dripping with worry.

I place my hand on his wrist. ‘No, sweetheart, it’s nothing you did.’

Henry shakes his head. ‘It’s just something I need you to know.’

Isabella looks up to the side, as she takes in the broad man next to him. ‘What is it?’

‘Well I want you two to know that… Just because I’m dating your mom, doesn’t mean I’m trying to steal her away from you nor to become your new dad. She is still your mom and you two are her number one priorities.’

My daughter chuckles. ‘Henry, we know all that.’

‘And we are more than happy to share our mom with you,’ Benji tells him.

While Henry is a bit surprised, I am not, because I just knew my kids would react like this. ‘Really?’ He can’t help but smile and that melts my heart.

‘Really,’ my two kids confirm and I smile when I see how happy the three of them are. ‘Is there anything you wish I know or you expect from me?’ He looks over at Isabella, who already opened her mouth. ‘And that does not involve watching television with you passed your bedtime,’ he says, causing her to pout.

‘Just make my mom happy,’ Benji says and if my heart wasn’t completely melted away, it is now.

‘Honey,’ I say, as I wrap my arms around his neck. I can feel he is rolling his eyes. ‘You are too sweet.’

‘Mom, stop,’ he laughs.

‘My boy is such a darling,’ I continue, simply to pester him.

‘Mom!’ Benji says, trying to push me off, but I’m simply too strong for now.

‘I did such a good job raising you,’ I chuckle, as I pepper his cheek with kisses.

‘Mom!’ He starts to laugh and I actually let him go now. ‘Don’t hug me like that again, but I meant what I said. Just make my mom happy and then I’m happy.’

‘I can do that,’ Henry says. ‘I promise.’

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #coach!henry cavill #henry cavill x amelia jung #amelia jung #henry cavill x asian ofc #asian ofc #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fandom #Coach Cavill

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taeslovehandles · 3 years

Note

TW: ED

Also if you don’t want to answer I won’t be hurt one bit!

Hey so I’ve been following your work on AO3 for a long time and I just love the fics you write I’m not joking I’ve literally reread stay almost 50 times it’s my favorite story.

I would love to be able to be a more active commenter on your work because it’s truly magnificent. I just have a bit of a problem I’m not sure if you may have some wisdom for me.

My wife and I are hopelessly in love and we are very open with our kinks and fantasies. Like she’s taken some of my more taboo ones in stride but she did admit (before I told her it’s something that I like) that she thought the whole feederism kink is something she finds so off putting. The reason I don’t comment or show myself more actively on your page is because I don’t know how she’d react if she knew I was really into this kink. I would NEVER force her to do anything that makes her uncomfortable! Especially with a history of eating disorders. But I can’t help but feel hurt that she finds it weird and it’s something I’ve been into for a while. I would never ask her to partake but I’m not even sure if I should discuss this with her or just keep it between me and your stories?

I think that comes down to how much you trust each other in some way. This topic has two sides, it's her right to say 'I do not like this.' And if you are not into the kink, people often will use the word "weird" because they do not understand how someone can be into it.

Now what you can do is, if you want to talk to her about it, to start off by asking her what she thinks the feederism kink is about? Because most people, not into it, think it's literally what I write about, when it's not. Yes ofc we got those assholes that do force their kinks on others, but every kink got their bad people.

I think what this kink mostly stands for is to accept different body shapes. That being fat doesn't mean you are ugly, dumber or not worthy of love and that it's okay to show yourself off in the public with that body in the clothes you like. I even believe that this kink has as much women as we got men if not more women. Because it's so important to spread positivity and not shame people for doing nothing but being themselves and living their life.

Explain to her why you like it and stay neutral. Try to ask her what parts make her uncomfortable and try to explain them or make sure she knows that xy she does not want in real life is something you respect because you lover her for HER and not her body.

All in all I think it really comes down to how you approach someone that is not part of this community and try to explain it as best as you can while always making sure the other person is comfortable.

Like you already said, you may read dark fics about this, but just like me writing them, we draw the line. Fiction is something else than reallife. That's why fantasy books and superhero movies are so interesting. They show us a world we have never seen before. It's thrilling.

I often bring this example out. Maybe your wife reads books? Does she think an author that writes about a serial killer is a murderer? Hardly so. It comes down to what the 'common society' deems 'normal', which is just utter bullshit to me. You could evaluate that her calling what you like and are into 'weird' hurts your feelings. Maybe she does not understand that either. Be honest and tell her how it makes you feel. Communication is key <3 If it's one thing women want it's to be talked to. To get things explained and told how they make you feel so that they can work with that information. I'm sure she never wanted to make you feel ashamed or anything, but she cannot read your mind.

I mean if you look around this little niche community about bts. We got more women than men here and we got some lovely people here that do write darker topics, but we are all sweethearts.

If your wife ever wants to talk to a fellow woman about this kink to ask questions she might have, you can always direct her to me. I'd love to educate and make her feel less scared of the topic.

We aren't as bad as people make us look :) <3

-------

Also you wrote so much and I had to re-read it to not forget a part. I am so glad you enjoy my stories so much. That's one of the reasons me and my co writers make them <3

Don't feel ashamed for what you like in fiction. You are not hurting anyone <3

Oh and of course, I think this is the first ever ask I got with someone sending me a concern or asking for my opinion and I don't know why but it made me feel so wholesome and soft :( Thank you for even sharing this with me and wanting my opinion. I hope I could help you out and I hope it works out! <3

Also when you read this, go give your wife a kiss and tell her you love her :) <3

#taeslovehandle asks

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rmtndew · 4 years

Text

All I’ve Ever Known ~ Chapter 3

Summary: Fiona’s life is a shattered fraction of what it used to be. She’s trying to navigate her new normal when she meets Detective Marshall, who gives her something more to look forward to.

Pairing: Marshall and OFC.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of death, cancer.

A/N - This was intended as a short drabble but it got out of hand and became a multi-chapter story instead. It’s my first Marshall fic and the first fan fic that I’ve written in over a decade. The title comes from the song ‘All I’ve Ever Known’ from Hadestown: ‘I was alone so long, I didn’t even know that I was lonely. Out in the cold so long, I didn’t even know that I was cold. Turned my collar to the wind, this is how it’s always been. All I’ve ever known is how to hold my own, but now I want to hold you, too.’

Tag list - @hollydaisy23, @readings-of-a-cavill-lover, @onlyhenrys, @omgkatinka, @speakerforthedead0-blog, @gearhead66, @thethirstyarchive, @oddsnendsfanfics, @littlerinoa, @agniavateira, @aaescritora,

If you’d like to be added to the tag list, let me know!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Wednesday morning we had so many orders to fill that I was left filling the one for the police station all by myself. I saved Marshall’s for last and when I knew Darcy wasn’t looking (not that she would have minded), I wrote a quick note on the paper sleeve the cookies went in.

‘Thank you again for Saturday night - Fiona’

Then I put in two extra cookies in the sleeve and placed it in the box before sealing it with the store sticker.

When I arrived at the station, I kept my eye out for Marshall, hoping to see him again. Despite being convinced that he wasn’t interested in me and that nothing would come out of my crush on him, I hadn’t been interested in anyone since Ezra had broken up with me and it felt nice to know that I was capable of feeling things again.

I worked quickly, doing my best to not be sloppy, as I tried to get done before Marshall could come in. I wanted an excuse to take his lunch to his office. I craved the opportunity to talk to him one on one again, even if it was short. I managed to set all of the orders out and pack up my stuff before he came in, so I grabbed his box and excitedly made my way towards his office. I was looking for his name on the doors and almost passed his up because his door was open, making the nameplate hard to see. I backed up and stood in the doorway for a moment, deciding how to announce myself. I finally settled for knocking on the outside wall. There was no answer. I waited for about half a minute before stepping in. I looked around, but his office was empty.

My heart sank a little, but I went to his desk so that I could leave his lunch on it, but it was almost completely covered in files and folders and notepads. There was a small space right in front of his chair that was empty with the exception of a yellow Post It note. Since his desk was full, I decided to leave the box on his chair, but when I circled around to it, I glanced at the note, then did a double take.

‘Thanks for lunch, Fi.’

I immediately started blushing. I almost wanted to take the note with me but I didn’t. I left his lunch and got out of there before someone came by and wondered why a delivery girl was in one of the detective’s offices smiling like a lunatic.

The rest of my day, to put it mildly, was a real dumpster fire. I got a flat tire and had to change it on a busy road where no one stopped to help, but a few people did honk. Back at work, I burnt my forearm taking bread out of the oven. Then, when I checked my phone before getting in the car to go home, I saw that I had two unread texts from Demi. One was cold but simply said that being friends with me was no longer working for her. The second, sent an hour later, went into greater detail and basically circled back on her comment the other night about me being ‘immature’. I tried to hold it together, I tried not to let it bother me, but I couldn’t. I sat in my car and cried. It was the only safe space where I could cry like that in peace. Or at least I thought it was. After several minutes, there was a knock on my window. I expected to see Darcy checking in on me. Instead it was Marshall. I was so surprised to see him that I stopped crying immediately and let out a little squeak.

His brow was knitted together in concern as he made a hand motion for me to roll my window down. I did and he lowered his head to look me in the face. “Are you alright?”

I tried to smile and nodded, but then I realized how silly that was. No one cries in their car when they’re fine. It wouldn’t take a skilled detective to figure that one out. So I paused, let out a breath, then shook my head. “No. I’m having a bad day,” I said. “But it’ll pass.”

He didn’t look convinced. “Can I…?” He pointed to my passenger’s seat.

“Yeah.” I unlocked my doors and wiped at my tears, trying to dry my cheeks as he walked around. When he sat in my car, his knees went up to his chest and his eyes went wide for a second, looking like a confused puppy. I laughed. “You can adjust the seat with the bar in the front,” I said. “Sorry, I should have slid it back before you got in. Mom’s the only person who sits there and she’s pretty tiny.”

“It’s alright,” he said, pulling on the bar under the seat and sending it back almost all the way. He let out a relieved breath as he stretched his long legs out.

“Why…” I started and trailed off. “Is something wrong?”

“No.”

“So you’re not here for your case?”

“No. I wanted to talk to you, but I didn’t have your number. I called here and your boss said that if I hurried, I might catch you.”

I turned in my seat so that I could look at him better. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

“Will you tell me about your day first?” he asked, reaching out to put his hand on my forearm, right on my burn. It hurt and I instinctively pulled my arm away. He looked confused, his wide puppy eyes coming back. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t going to hurt you. I shouldn’t have -”

“No, you’re fine. It’s not you.” I pushed my sweater sleeve towards my elbow and held my arm out for him to see. “I burnt myself earlier. I was getting bread out of the oven.”

“Is that what you were upset about?”

“It’s one of the reasons. It’s just been a horrible afternoon.”

“Can I make an offer that might help?”

“Yeah, of course.”

He looked at me, pursing his lovely lips for a moment, then said, “Would you let me buy you coffee?”

I laughed. “Out of pity?”

He smiled, a full beautiful smile, showing his teeth. “If that’ll make you say yes, then sure.”

“Oh,” I said, heat creeping up my ears. “Oh. You really want to take me out to coffee?”

He swallowed. My eyes were instantly drawn to his Adam’s apple as it moved. “If you would let me, yes.”

I suddenly felt shy and couldn’t look at him. “I, um… I would love to.”

“Would right now be a good time for you?”

I nodded. “It would be perfect,” I said. “Unless it interferes with your job and your case.”

“We actually closed the case today.”

I smiled. “So you had the good afternoon,” I said. “Congratulations.”

“It hardly feels like a victory but I’m pleased that it’s finally closed and to have answers for the family.”

“You don’t strike me as the type of person who finds victory in any case as long as there are victims.”

He let out a breath and shook his head. “No, I don’t.” He rubbed his hands on his thighs, almost nervous looking. “So, coffee?”

“Coffee,” I said. “Do you have anywhere particular in mind?”

“There’s a place called South York, do you know it?”

My anxiety hit me in a rush. I was caught between excited nervousness from the offer of coffee with Marshall, to a sudden kick of nerves at the mention of South York. I was trying to figure out a way to politely suggest another place without getting into detail as to why, when he caught my eye and smiled.

“You don’t like it?” he asked.

“No, I do, it used to be my favorite.”

“Used to be?”

“I, um, I just had a bad experience the last time I was there.”

His brow furrowed again as he looked at me more intently. “I have a feeling you’re referring to more than just a bad cup of coffee, yeah?”

I nodded. “But I feel like every time I’m around you, I end up telling you more about myself than you’re bargaining for, so I won’t go into details.”

The corner of his mouth turned up in a slight smirk. “Well, I am a detective and getting people to talk is a big part of my job, so maybe that bit is on me,” he said. “And just because I’m not great at talking doesn’t mean that I mind other people who are.”

“That’s the thing - I’m not, it’s just when I’m around you.”

“Is that a bad thing, though?”

I rubbed my neck. “I don’t know. My ex-boyfriend used to hate it when I rambled, so it can get annoying, I guess.”

“Is that why you broke up with him? Because he was an idiot?”

I smiled. “I should have dumped him because he was an idiot, but no, he actually broke up with me,” I said, my smile faltering. “Right after I got the call about my dad’s wreck.” I managed to look him in the eye. “We were on a date at South York.”

I watched his eyes change as he took in what I said. There was no more soft puppy, it was all angry ocean like it had been that night in the bar. I hated admitting to myself how much I liked that look when I knew he was angry on my behalf.

“He broke up with you after you found out about your father dying?” he asked, his voice tight.

“Dad wasn’t… He died later that night. I just knew that it was a bad car wreck. I went into shock after Mom called me, so I was calm when I told him what happened. He said later that he didn’t think it was that serious because I wasn’t reacting like it was. But the whole time he was driving me to the hospital to drop me off, he kept asking if I understood what was going on, that we were through.” I shook my head. “I had never wanted to throat punch someone as much as I did him, and if he hadn’t been driving, I probably would have.”

“For a completely unrelated reason, I need his full name and last known address.”

I laughed. “There’s a very big part of me that would actually love to give that to you.”

“What’s stopping it and what can I do to change it?”

“I don’t know that you can change it because what’s stopping it is the other, bigger part of me that would rather start with a clean slate and not be the woman you have to rescue from a bar and has the idiotic ex-boyfriend who needs to be taught a lesson.”

“You’re not either of those.”

“I’m just the wreck you find crying in her car and won’t stop talking?”

He shook his head, his brown curls bouncing at the nape of his neck. “No. You’re the beautiful woman who seems to be holding everything together as best as she can and is having a hard day,” he said. “And who left me a lovely surprise of extra cookies.”

I could hear the blood rushing in my ears as my heart began pounding. I stretched my palms out on my legs, trying to covertly wipe the sweat that was suddenly pouring from them. I swallowed hard. “You think I’m beautiful?” I asked, my voice a rough whisper.

“You are beautiful.” He said it like a fact.

I looked at him from under my lashes, feeling too shy to look at him straight on. “You’re not too shabby yourself.”

South York had been my favorite coffee shop since my senior year of high school, but that afternoon my new favorite became Birchwood Coffee. Sitting at a table by the window with Marshall, feeling the last of the afternoon’s sun shining through, warming me up as we drank coffee while we sat talking was the loveliest feeling that I’d had in a long time. I’d forgotten what it was like to have someone interested in me. Someone who cared enough to ask me questions and actually listen. I’d been lonely for so long, I’d forgotten that that’s what it was. I thought it was just a part of me, like my anxiety used to be, like my grief was. But talking to him I realized it was something far easier to sweep away. At least he made it seem easier.

“Do you mind if I ask about your daughter?” I said.

“What would you like to know?”

“You told me that she was thirteen, but I don’t think you told me her name.”

“It’s Faye.”

“That’s pretty,” I said. “What’s she like?”

He ran a hand over his beard, his fingers combing through it while he thought. He gave a small laugh as he let his hand fall back to his thigh. “She’s stubborn and strong willed, like me. But she’s smarter, far smarter than I was as a teenager. A lot more social, too. Which doesn’t make it easy to keep up with all of her friends, but I try,” he said. “And she can hold her own. She won’t take crap from anyone. Her mother and I got called into a meeting at her school not long ago. A boy had flipped up a girl’s skirt and tried taking a picture. Faye pushed him and he broke his nose when he fell. His parents wanted an apology for assaulting him. She refused. She said that if they were going to excuse him harassing a girl and attempting to violate her privacy as ‘boys just being boys’, then her physical assault to prevent him from doing that was just ‘girls having to be girls’ and that she should get the same slap on the wrist that he got. I said, ‘good girl’ and we both got kicked out.”

I smiled. “Did she get in trouble?”

He shook his head as he picked up his coffee cup. “No. My ex-wife is far more level headed - not to mention better at arguing her point - and she handled it.”

“Is it hard spending time with her with your job? I imagine you don’t have the typical nine to five hours,” I asked as he took a sip of his coffee. Again, my eyes were drawn to his Adam’s apple. I tried to drag my sight away before he caught me staring.

“We make it work,” he said. “I try to take her to school as often as I can and she stays over on occasion.”

He had an errant curl that drooped down over his forehead and I had to restrain myself from reaching out to brush it back. Something about him inspired a desire in me to take care of him. I wanted to make sure he got enough sleep, drank enough water, ate right and regularly while working a case. I couldn’t explain it.

He set his cup down on the table, his hand still clutching it. His arm was close enough to my own that was resting on the table in front of me that I could feel the heat from it. “How’s your mum?” he asked.

“She’s...okay. She’s going a bit stir crazy and keeps talking about going back to work, but I don’t know if she’s ready for it.”

“What did she do?”

“She taught music. The violin,” I said. “That’s how she met my dad; they both played the violin in the city orchestra when they were in college.”

“Did he teach as well?”

“No. He was a physics engineer. I think music was just a way to shut off the analytical part of his brain for a while.”

“Do you play the violin, too?”

I laughed. “No. That was my form of rebellion, I refused to play it or any stringed instrument.” I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “I did play the piano, though.”

“You did? Not anymore?”

I shrugged. “I haven’t played in the last couple of years. With everything going on, it just slipped to the bottom of my list.”

He nodded. “That’s understandable.”

“Do you play any instruments?”

He laughed, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a smile, making a dimple visible on his cheek through his beard. “No, I was never patient enough for that. I was always outside, running about or riding bikes with my brother, getting up to no good.”

“Were you a trouble maker as a kid?”

He kept smiling as he nodded. “Nothing terrible. Not like the boys who stole or damaged other people’s property, but yeah, we got into our fair share of trouble.”

One of the women who worked at the shop came to our table to ask if we needed refills on our coffee. I passed but Marshall accepted. While she poured it for him, I couldn’t help but notice how she looked at him, how unnecessarily close she stood, how her touch lingered on his fingers as she handed his cup back. I couldn’t tell if he was really good at pretending not to notice her attention or if he was so used to having women fawning over him that he’d become oblivious to it. Something told me that it wasn’t the latter. The thought that I held his attention above all of the attractive options surrounding him made my heart flutter. I tried to hold back the smile that thought brought on, but I couldn’t. He noticed.

“You’re smiling. What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“I’m thinking that you’re a pretty good cure for a rotten day.”

Eventually, despite all the coffee he kept drinking, exhaustion seemed to catch up to Marshall. I noticed him yawning more and more, and his already limited talking slowing down. When I pointed it out, he apologized but admitted that he hadn’t slept much while working his case and that it was finally getting to him. I told him that I understood and that as much as I was enjoying myself, it would make me feel even better if he went home and got some much needed sleep. He agreed, but not before asking if we could exchange numbers. I’d never given mine out with so much enthusiasm.

We’d parked side by side in front of the shop and he walked me to my car. After I unlocked it, I looked at him. He was standing in front of me, the warm lights of the coffee shop shining behind him, lighting him up like some other worldly being. I couldn’t remember ever being more attracted to someone as much as I was him in that moment.

“Thank you for the coffee. I really enjoyed it,” I said.

“Yeah, I did, too,” he agreed. “Would you like to do it again sometime? Perhaps when I’ve had a little more sleep?”

I smiled. “I’d love to. I’m very interested in what a fully rested Marshall is like.”

He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly, smiling back at me. “I don’t know if he exists anymore, but I can offer you a partially rested one, how’s that?”

“I’ll take it.”

He nodded, chewing the corner of his lip for a moment. “Can I call you?”

It shouldn’t have caused butterflies when he asked me that, we’d just exchanged numbers after all, but the simple act of him asking made my stomach feel like a thousand butterflies had taken flight. I tried to stay calm looking on the outside, though.

“Yes. Of course. Whenever you’re free.”

He gave me a smile, the kind where it was more in his eyes than his mouth, and I loved what it did to his already beautiful eyes. “I’m probably going to go home and sleep for the next four days, so it may be some time after that, but I’ll call you.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” I said. “Now go home and rest.”

His smile widened. “Yes, ma’am.”

I called out for Mom as soon as I got in the door. She had been in the kitchen and came and met me in the entryway after I locked the door. When I saw her, I let out a happy little squeal.

“A good date, I take it?” she said, beaming at me.

“He’s just so stinking handsome!” I exclaimed. “And he’s lovely. And he smells nice. And he’s so warm that you can feel it just by sitting next to him. And I swear he’d be the biggest teddy bear if I could ever get the chance to hug him.” I sighed. “Mom, I feel like a teenager. I’ve not had a crush on someone like this in my entire adult life. I never felt this way about Ezra. Ever.”

“I’m so happy for you, sweetie,” she said. “What Ezra did to you was wrong. Breaking up with you after Dad’s wreck was bad enough, but leaving your stuff on our front lawn while we were at the hospital, and then ransacking your apartment to get his stuff back while we were making funeral arrangements.” She shook her head. “I still get so angry when I think about it. No one deserves being treated that coldly, especially not you, Bird.”

“And you let him know it, didn’t you?” I said, taking off my coat. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on his face when you told him to sit down so that you could look him in the eye while you scolded him. That was a lot of anger jam packed in a tiny lady.”

“Am I going to have to do that with your Detective Marshall?”

“Scold him? I don’t think so. Sit him down so that you can look him in the eye? Absolutely,” I said “But it’s just Marshall, Mom. I’m not naive enough to believe he’s my anything after a single coffee date.”

I may not have believed it, but it didn’t keep me from wanting it.

#Henry Cavill #Walter Marshall #Night Hunter #Nomis #All I've Ever Known #Walter Marshall fan fiction #Henry Cavill fan fiction #Night Hunter fan fiction #Walter Marshall/OFC #HenryCavillFanfic #Walter MarshallFanfic

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gingyboo · 3 years

Text

Mirror Mirror

A/N: Again many thanks to @booglebug

Description- Soulmates existed. People knew that much. Soulmates were rare, a handful in each generation, an unexplainable phenomenon that formed a bond closer than blood and more sacred than marriage.

Bucky finds his soulmate when he needs her most. Little does he know how much she needs him too.

(Soulmate au that slots pretty much in to the MCU but with soulmates. Set after TFATWS.)

Pairing- Bucky Barnes x OFC

Warnings- Mentions of violence and guns, but its mostly fluff, drama and angst.

This is a multi chaptered fic.

Please like, comment, reblog!

prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

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Chapter 5

Sam woke them up the next morning dropping into one of the armchairs with a loud sigh.

‘’Well, isn’t this cosy,’’ he announced, Bucky shot up with a start, but Nancy rose much slower pushing her hair out of her face.

‘’Anything from Torres?’’ Bucky asked noticing Sam was fully kitted out in his suit again.

‘’They’re holding him at an army base off the m20, they’ve approved us leaving from there. So, there’s a high chance they haven’t just let you go, so getting out of London might be difficult.’’

‘’Right so let’s take stock,’’ Nancy said now seemingly alert.

‘’Metal arm, I’ve got the shield and the wings, what can you bring to the table?’’ Nancy sighed racking her brain.

‘’I’ve got a degree in English literature.’’ She answered with a hopeful smile, Bucky snorted.

‘’Okay well we’ve got that too.’’ Nancy left them discussing a plan to go and get packed. She entered her room, pink and white candy-striped wallpaper adorned the walls, the large mirror opposite her showed herself. She stood up tall shaking her head. This was crazy, and yet it was something she’d been trained for. She grabbed a hold-all and made her way through to her walk-in wardrobe. She picked things out for practicality, jeans, a jumper, some shorts and vest tops, Wakanda’s climate being quite different to the mild spring in London. She looked over at her vanity, her grandmothers necklace still laid out from the night before. She slipped it into a jewellery case with some other select items. She wrote a quick note for her housekeeper, Samara, who was due later that day,

‘I’ll be away a few days, don’t worry, I’ll explain when I see you x’

She finished packing her bag and made her way back down the stairs, she could trust Samara to look after her home, but she still hated to leave it. She walked into the drawing room Bucky and Sam were both stood waiting for her. She smiled reassuringly at Bucky who winked at her as she came to his side drawing his hand into hers.

“We were thinking how to get to the airfield, I don’t feel like calling a cab, it could too easily be hijacked.” Sam started Nancy opened her mouth with a suggestion, but Sam cut her off, “Before you suggest it we aren’t taking the ‘tube’ either.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest that, the underground doesn’t go out that far.” Nancy smirked with raised eyebrows. “Actually, I was going to suggest we take my car.”

“You have a car, you didn’t think of mentioning it sooner?” Sam said rolling his eyes.

“Alright so we’ll take the car.” Bucky said smiling at her.

“Well actually, we’ll take the car,” she indicated to herself and Bucky, “it’s a two-seater.”

“Great I’ll fly above, make sure no one’s on your tail.” Sam sighed, Bucky’s smile grew wider. Bucky thought he heard Sam mutter about what kind of car only had 2 seats, this made him chuckle.

They made their way to the back of the house where a door led to the garage. Nancy left Samara’s note on the kitchen counter where they’d find it. Sam looked disapprovingly but Nancy insisted they can be trusted. Her car sat covered in the garage she carefully drew back the cover and Sam let out a low whistle. Nancy smiled stroking the blue chrome finish.

“Isn’t she a beauty,” she mused fondly.

“It’s a nice car.” Bucky nodded attempting enthusiasm.

“You even know what kind of car this is Buckaroo?” Sam asked a look of offence on his face. Bucky exhaled loudly,

“Yes, its, um, a two-seater.” Nancy busied herself filling the boot and left Sam to explain.

“It’s a Mas-er-ra-ti.” Sam said sounding out each syllable, “It’s not just a car.” Bucky nodded in response and made his way round to the driver side door.

“Oh no you don’t James Barnes. My car, my rules, I drive.” She dashed over, blocking his entrance to the car.

“Sweetheart- “

“No no no don’t sweetheart me, have you ever even driven a car in this country, this century at least?” Bucky held up his palms in surrender and made his way to the passenger side. Sam clapped his partner on the shoulder as he strode past, lowering his goggles.

“Shouldn’t be too hard to follow you, she’s not exactly subtle.” Indicating to the sports car.

“No, but she is fast, hope you can keep up.” Nancy grinned wickedly.

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

Getting out of London was simple enough, Nancy was comfortable enough on its busy congested roads. Driving with Bucky was a very different experience, he looked around constantly, watching every car that joined the road, looking out for anything close to suspicious. Nancy was calmer, driving was simple to her and when they hit the motorway she pushed the car into 6th gear.

“So, should we talk about how you’re about to meet my dad?” Nancy said brightly turning briefly towards Bucky.

“I hadn’t really thought about it.” This was true, with his whole priority getting her safely to Wakanda he hadn’t for a moment thought of the ambassador and what he might say or do to him should he find out. Nancy had been gracious in accepting him just as he was, past and all, somehow he thought no father would want their daughter to be bound by the fates to a 100-year-old ex-assassin. In fact, he was surprised every day how Nancy had managed to take it in her stride. It was simple to her, he wasn’t that man anymore, the winter solider wasn’t her soulmate, Bucky Barnes was. He found himself staring at her again, where others found it unnerving, Nancy never mentioned it, she caught him and smiled taking one hand off the wheel to squeeze his, holding it tightly for a moment.

“It’ll be fine, I’ll handle him, and he’ll understand, he’ll have to.” She kept her eyes on the road, she hadn’t a clue what her dad would say.

“Will he?” Bucky said quietly.

“I’m not letting you go.” She responded firmly.

Bucky felt a warmth wash over him, like sinking into a hot bath.

He then heard Sam’s voice in his ear,

‘’Two SUVs just joined at the last junction, they’ve been on your tail for the past couple of miles, could be nothing I’m gonna send redwing down, get a lay of the land.” Bucky relayed the information on to Nancy whilst looking out the back window, Nancy saw the two silver cars in her rear-view mirror. She saw a lorry in the left had lane behind her, she quickly darted out in front of it, the two SUVs carried on the lorry blocking them access to the middle lane. They overtook, one pulling in ahead of her. The other attempting to remain level, a BMW frantically flashing its headlight behind it.

“Sit back!” Bucky had his gun drawn pointing it at the driver’s side window, aiming at the second SUV.

“Don’t you dare hurt my car!” She shouted eyes darting left again before flying into the inside lane and up the slip road beyond. The two SUVs had no time to react and were pushed onwards in the throng of traffic.

“Please warn me before you do that.” Bucky said, shaking slightly from surprise. He looked around confused. “Where are we?”

“Not far off now, this is a couple of junctions too early, we’ll have to take the back roads, but that might actually be easier, now we know they’re following.”

“How are you so calm about this?” Bucky said, concerned at her blasé attitude.

“Compartmentalisation. My parent’s divorce, Kit’s death, the blip and now this. I just have to focus on one thing at a time.” She said taking a turn off the roundabout, this led them down a side road. Bucky explained the new plan to Sam who then, reluctantly, gave up following the two SUVs. “I’ve been seeing a therapist since I was 10, she says I do it too much, pack everything into boxes and leave them up there.” She tapped her temple, “I don’t even notice I’m doing it anymore.” Bucky watched her, a question burning on his tongue, what happened when you were ten, he didn’t ask it, another time he thought. It was as if she read his mind though,

“It’s nothing close to what you’ve been through of course, I mean I should be asking how you’re so calm.” She laughed almost half-heartedly.

“You think this is calm? I had a good therapist, and then there’s you, you help a lot.”

“I do?” Nancy said noticeably touched.

“Like my very own guardian angel.” He winked at her.

“Bucky...” Nancy started no clue where her sentence was going. Her skin lit up with goose bumps under his gaze. She felt tears prick at her eyes.

“It’s okay, we’re in this together now.” He curled a stray strand of hair between his fingers. The sunlight streaming through the wind screen lit up the copper tones turning her hair into a mane of shining metallic.

“I want to know who these people are Bucky, I want to stop them.” She said defiantly.

“I’ll stop them, I won’t stop until you’re safe. Katima said they wanted to ransom you for information and co-operation from your father.” Bucky explained.

“You spoke to Katima?” She sounded surprised.

“Yeah, she sent us to rescue you, I didn’t realise you knew anyone from Wakanda.” He said apologetically.

“She’s my dad’s girlfriend, that sounds so weird, she’s his partner, she’s lovely.”

“She did seem worried about you.” Bucky said.

“Dads’ going to be frantic.” She sighed.

“Maybe we should leave telling him about us for a while?” He suggested dryly, this made Nancy smile.

“Don’t chicken out on me Barnes.” She smirked, “He’ll only be more annoyed the longer we leave it.”

“That does not fill me with confidence.” He laughed lightly. They drove quietly down the twisting road. As they neared the airfield Sam dove down flying alongside their car. The gates granted them access on the first sight of Sam, they made their way up to where Torres was sat on the steps waving to them. Nancy tossed her keys to the nearest member of ground crew.

“Please look after her, I expect her back in one piece.” The man looked as though all his Christmases had come at once, his mouth gaping at the Maserati. Bucky took Nancy hand as they walked towards the jet. Sam was already aboard, hanging out the military jet.

Before they could reach the stairs a loud gun shot fired behind them. Bucky instinctively spun round pushing Nancy behind him, a man stood all in black, skin milky white, he could have been 30 or fifty, a cloud of dark hair surrounded his head.

“Give me the girl!” He shouted, voice clear and calm.

“Not a chance!” Bucky called back, his own gun drawn “get to Sam now,” he hissed behind to Nancy, she didn’t move a muscle.

“Nancy, come with me.” The man continued. Nancy stood defiantly, feet routed to the spot.

“Go now,” Bucky said louder this time. More mean appeared now, each wearing the same masks as the men from the night before. They appeared from the same silver SUVs as they’d encountered on the motorway. The men held up arms against the military personnel of the airfield.

“Christopher is alive!” The man shouted. Nancy’s composure broke.

“Liar!” She came out from behind Bucky and stared the man down. Bucky reached out catching her arm in his metal one.

“I’ll take you to him.” The man continued.

“Nancy,” Bucky started, she looked over her shoulder and smiled. From above their heads Sam swooped down, the intruders so focussed on Nancy they hadn’t been watching Sam. He gripped the black hair man by the shoulders and shot straight up in the air. His men followed them with their eyes. The brief distraction allowed the soldiers to overpower the masked men. Nancy ran up the stairs, Bucky helped her up into the jet, Torres was already initiating take off. Bucky brought her over to the bench, strapping her in securely. He knelt in front of her. Her head hung to her chest.

“Nancy, I’m so sorry,” he muttered, cupping her face in his flesh hand.

“It’s not your fault, that bloody bastard!” She shouted, Bucky saw Torres jolt at her outburst from the cockpit.

“Any chance he was telling the truth?” Bucky asked quietly, Nancy shook her head.

“Kits’ dead, he’s not coming back.” She ran her hands over her scraped back hair. Bucky raised himself onto the seat next to her.

“You should have gone when I told you to.” He Sid quietly taking her hand and running his thumb over her knuckles.

“I wasn’t going to leave you there. All alone.” Shook his head smiling, gently drawing her hand to his face and kissing her fingers. Nancy freed her hand from his grasp and cupped his cheek. “I’m not going to leave your side.” She whispered. He lowered his forehead to hers, closing his eyes.

Sam entered the jet with a bang as he landed on the metal floor. The couple jumped apart quickly.

“I’m sorry, were you two having a moment?” He jested, raising his eyebrows at the pair. He closed the jet’s side door and they all felt Torres increase the planes’ altitude.

#bucky barnes #winter solider #sam wilson #captain america #mcu

10 notes · View notes

snarkwrites · 4 years

Text

11 | gangsta; sweetpea

Notes:

SO.. I uhh... Got super into writing this recently. I just really liked where it was heading after part 7. Yes. Yes, I realize that literally no one asked for more of this but.. I wrote it. Might as well share it.

I warn in advance, yet again. There’s not quite as much going on in this chapter as the previous one but there is still A LOT. And Dave kind of makes an indirect appearance. Via text.

This is the final part I have already written and waiting to go. I know, I know.. Literally no one asked for this. But you’re getting it anyway. Catch you guys with more of this fic that literally nobody has asked for in a few days, probs.

Warnings:

loosely canon compliant - this is the biggest warning, so if you’re into things that follow exact canon plot you are… definitely not going to like this. angst & slow burn, heavy sexual tensionstarting now, actually - this is just so everyone who started reading this thinking the smut would transpire in a hurry knows that apparently, it is not. violence / swearing & fighting, possible underage drinking and other shenanigans- look.. it’s high school. shit happens. also apparently, my ofc Alyssa uses the word fuck like all the time?…eventual sexual content / a virgin original character- this one is self explanatory. yes, i plan to write a smutty chapter in this at some point. when? i don’t rightly know. it’s got a while before we get there. revenge porn / grooming behaviors + an older boyfriend that Alyssa had in Chicago and moved to Riverdale to get away from are hinted at here. And this chapter might not be the only one in which we hear about Dave Novak. - I put this here so it doesn’t trigger anybody. I tried to be very very very vague when I wrote out things.. But if you can’t handle it, I understand trust me... This is not going to be a huge part of the fic, no worries. It will have a small arc, but then it’ll be resolved.

Pairing:

Andrews!Sibling OFC, Alyssa x Sweet Pea

Other Parts:

[ one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight - nine - ten - soundtrack ]

Other Stuff:

[ faq - tag list doc ]

Tagging:

@brithedemonspawn is the only person on my Riverdale tag list. If you’d like to be tagged for this story by all means.. Please let me know. Please, I beg. It’d make me super duper happy!!!

ELEVEN.

We all seemed to have the same idea. We wound up down at the quarry at the same time. Cheryl and I emerged with Kevin from the path leading away from Riverdale High to find Toni and Sweet Pea were already sitting on the bank, staring out at the water.

Cheryl took a seat beside Toni, leaning against her side with an arm around her. I sat down between Sweet Pea and Kevin. Kevin’s eyes darted around the area. “So this is what the quarry looks like in daylight.”

“Mhm.” I mumbled. Not really caring about any potential awkwardness as I found myself leaning against Sweet Pea’s side. Gazing out at the water. Sweet Pea slipped an arm around my shoulder but I didn’t notice it until a little later when his hand squeezed my upper arm just as I started to cry a little.

People had been somber and quiet all through the day. Weatherbee announced the death on the intercom with morning announcements and while you had some Bulldogs who were a lot less hesitant to openly say good riddance, you had quite a few people who were just saddened that everything played out the way it did and resulted in Fangs death.

“Midge shouldn’t have been with us that night. I can’t stop thinking that whatever the Hood saw that night gave him the impression that Midge was down here doing something she wasn’t.” Kevin sighed, shaking his head sadly. By now, he’d told Cheryl and I the whole story.

Midge had been posing as a date for both Kevin and Fangs. Helping them slip off to be together now and then. It explained why the weeks leading up to Fangs death, we saw a fair bit less.

“You guys meeting didn’t have anything to do with what happened.” Sweet Pea mused aloud, glancing at Kevin.

Kevin eyed him warily. The entire walk down to the quarry, he’d been worried that coming down with us wasn’t a good idea, that Toni and Sweet Pea might not welcome him being there, but we explained that he and Fangs weren’t exactly a deep secret among the four of us. “I tried to tell Dad to let him go out the back of the station entirely, but Minetta intervened. Insisted that he went out the front or the side.”

“Because Minetta’s a fucking prick who only wanted to make sure his stupid half assed attempt at ‘justice’ got put on the news at 8.” Toni muttered. Reaching out to give Kevin’s shoulder a squeeze. Kevin took a shaky breath or two and nodded.

“I just can’t stop feeling like somehow, if one thing happened just a little differently.”

“Me too.” the rest of us muttered in unison before we all fell silent again. The late afternoon sun sank lower in the sky. Toni stood, pulling Cheryl off the ground. “We need to be getting back to the campground… Getting ready for the last practice of the play... Kevin, if you wanna walk with us…”

Kevin nodded, pulling himself off the ground. Glancing back at Sweet Pea and I. I called out to the three of them that I’d see them later.

This left Sweet Pea and I down on the bank alone.

And for about ten minutes, neither of us really said anything.

The chill started to take over the air and I hugged myself a little. Wishing I’d worn more than the thin black and white striped long sleeve top I was wearing with my favorite jeans. Sweet Pea must have seen me doing it, because he moved to sit behind me. One of his legs on either side of my body as his arms wrapped around me and he propped his chin on my shoulder. “Better, Cherry?”

I nodded. Keeping quiet. Thinking about everything that had happened lately. I leaned myself back against Sweet Pea before I even realized I’d done it. He gave a quiet growl. His arms squeezing me just a little. Putting me even closer to him.

“None of this feels real. It feels like a nightmare.” I mumbled after a few seconds of heavy silence. Sweet Pea muttered a quiet “Yeah.” in agreement.

I turned around to face him, my legs settling over his upper thighs. He pulled me onto his lap completely. Raising his hands so that they rested on either side of my face. His thumb rolling over my cheeks. I’d apparently started crying a little and hadn’t noticed.

“You need to get home. Hood’s back, remember? C’mon, I’ll walk ya, Cherry.”

I nodded. Pulling myself off his lap and holding out my hand. He grabbed hold and lazily pulled himself up from the grass and nearly fell into me. We started up the trail and through the trees and I reached down, grabbing hold of his hand. Clearing my throat as I gazed up at him.

“Please don’t go after anybody or anything. You saw the huge fight that almost happened in the parking lot this morning. I don’t want anything to happen to you too, okay?” I muttered the words softly, giving him what I hoped was my best begging look.

“I promised I’d wait until Jugs did or didn’t find something. I keep my promises, Cherry.”

I nodded. Giving his hand another squeeze.

My dad’s house was in view again and I raised a brow at the sign in the front yard.

Andrews for Mayor.

“What the hell?” I muttered, nodding to the sign.

Sweet Pea eyed it, shrugging.

“It’d be better than Hermione Lodge.”

“I know, but..” I trailed off, shaking my head. We paused under the street light just as it came on overhead. We stood there awkwardly for a minute or two and then he stepped closer. Pulling me into a hug. Squeezing a little.

“Get inside, Cherry.”

I nodded, swallowing hard. Gazing up at him as the hug broke. “Let me know when you make it back to the camp.”

He gave me the thumbs up and started to walk in the direction of the campground FP had them all staying at for the time being. I wandered up onto the porch, leaning against the front door to pull myself together a little before stepping into the house.

Just in time to find Veronica and Archie sitting at the table with posters and signs spread out all over. And to hear my dad talking to my mom on the phone. My mom, of course, was telling my dad how running for Mayor may not be the best idea. But my dad was insisting that with everything that had happened as of late, somebody had to actually try to do something.

I wandered over to the table, flopping into a seat. Veronica reached out, pulling a dried leaf out of my hair.

“Did you hear the news?” she smiled at me.

“Dad’s running for mayor?” I questioned. My dad smiled. Held out his phone so my mom could say hi to me.

“Are you just getting home?” my mom asked, giving me one of her looks as she did.

“I went to the quarry after school with some friends.” I answered her.

“I heard what happened, sweetie. If you need to talk, you know you can call me, right?” my mom eyed me in concern. I nodded as I pulled myself out of the dining chair and made my way over to the stove to fix myself a plate of spaghetti.

After a few more minutes, my father ended the call, coming to sit down across the table from me. “Well? What do you think, tiny?”

“Honestly? I think this is a good thing. A very good thing. If anybody can fix all the crap that’s wrong with Riverdale, I think it’s you.” I smiled at my dad. Veronica spoke up, voicing her agreement.

After my dad went upstairs to take a shower, my brother spoke up.

“All the stuff with Hiram is behind me. I can’t believe I thought I’d be able to pull off what I was trying.”

Veronica gave his hand a squeeze and spoke up, gazing at me. “Your brother finally realized what I’ve been trying to point out to him about my father all along. And then I found out new things and… I have to do something.”

“Do I want to know?” I asked, twisting spaghetti around my fork and taking a bite. Veronica shook her head and muttered quietly, “I wish I didn’t know. That’s all I want to say right now. I’m still trying to get my head around it all.”

I nodded. Dropping the subject.

“Where’d you get the shiner, Archie?” I nodded to his black eye. He shrugged it off, chuckling. “Chuck ran his mouth at practice. I shut him up.”

“Oh shit.. Tell me he wasn’t stupid enough to try his crap with Veronica again?”

“Nope. He just ran his mouth.”

I laughed quietly, shaking my head. Putting my bowl into the sink and making my way up the stairs, into my room. Flopping across my bed right as my phone went off twice.

[ tall broody and handsome ] I made it, cherry. Jughead thinks he might’ve found something out too. Going to meet him now. I’ll let you know.

I texted back quickly.

[ cherry ] thank you for letting me know.

I hesitated because I wanted to type out that I didn’t know what I’d do if something happened to him too, and after staring at the entered words, I erased them, going with the simple thank you.

Then texting him again.

[ cherry ] that was fast. Be careful. You’ve got your switchblade and another person with you, right?

The next text had my skin crawling and everything I’d eaten that day crawling up my throat.

[773 - 589 - 7956] guess who?

[ 773- 589 - 7956 ] i bet you think it was real cute.. Turning over all that stuff to help them lock me up. i know it was you, scarlet.

[ 773 - 589 - 7956 ] you owe me, scarlet. And i intend to collect.

I threw my phone down and crawled up to the top of my bed. Putting my knees to my chin and my arms around my knees. Taking long deep breaths but that didn’t help me at all.

He wasn’t supposed to get out. How had he gotten out?

My stomach churned. I knew I needed to tell someone, but at the same time, I didn’t want to, either.

I got myself into this mess. I needed to get myself out. One way or another.

Besides, I tried to convince myself, there’s no way he’ll come to Riverdale.

XXX

Sweet Pea got to the place he’d agreed to meet Jughead just in time to see the end result of the fight.

Well, it wasn’t so much a fight as it was a one sided ass kicking. He managed to get his hands on some of the Ghoulies sent by Penny Peabody to find Jughead and get even, but Jughead was laying there on the ground. Badly beaten. Unconscious.

He picked him up and carried him to the hospital. Calling FP on his way there. Explaining what he’d seen and what he thought happened. FP showed up at the hospital with Toni and a few of the other Serpents about fifteen minutes later, just as the doctor was coming out to tell Sweet Pea that Jughead was awake.

FP went in first.

And outside in the waiting room, Sweet Pea found himself thinking about the one thing that Jughead had managed to say before he slipped into unconsciousness. A Bulldog hadn’t fired the shot that killed his best friend.

Midge’s mother had done it. In a fit of grief. The cops weren’t pressing the issue. And Sweet Pea felt conflicted, because on the one hand, he understood that it was grief. On the other hand, he wanted some kind of revenge. Closure.

Because he’d just lost his best friend. The only person he had left that he considered true family. Fangs had been like a brother to him.

His mom had mentioned that he had a half brother once, but that they’d never know each other. Fangs felt more like family to him than any of his blood relations did at this point, because Fangs was always there.

XXX

Inside the hospital room, FP explained what he’d done to keep Fangs safe until the heat was off. Jughead listened and when his father finished, he spoke up quietly. “We have to at least let Sweet Pea know. The guy was his family. Fangs was the only family Pea really had.”

FP mulled it over, nodding. “I’ll talk to him when I go back out into the waiting room. You find anything you were lookin for about who fired the shot?”

“Midge’s mom. She turned herself in this afternoon. They’re not going to do anything to her, I don’t think.”

Betty rushed into the room and FP made his way out, letting the two be together alone. Once he was back in the waiting room, he spotted Sweet Pea sitting sprawled in one of the flimsy chairs. He walked over and sat down beside him.

“Fangs ain’t dead, kid. I had to get him the hell away from here because there were very real threats made.”

Sweet Pea eyed him, a brow raised.

“What the fuck do you mean Fangs isn’t dead?”

“We protect our own, kid. Fangs was being threatened. I got him out of town.”

“Toni and I were mourning our best friend. Does that mean shit to you?” Sweet Pea took a deep breath to keep himself calm. FP nodded. Sighing as he muttered that he understood. And then he explained that as soon as things cooled off between the North and the South side, he’d be sending for him to come back.

“I want to see him. If you’re not full of shit.” Sweet Pea insisted.

“Perfect. You can make the supply run out to where I have him stashed. Better get going, kid. I want you back in time to make class tomorrow. We clear?”

Sweet Pea nodded, standing. FP gave him a key to the RV he was staying in currently, told him where to find the supplies he’d need to give Fangs. He gave him a wad of cash to give to Fangs and then a few smaller bills. Smirking as he mused aloud, “Keep it, kid.”

Sweet Pea nodded, even though he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt taking money from the guy. And then, he set off to run the supplies to Fangs.

#sweetpea fanfiction #sweetpea imagine #sweetpea fanfic #sweetpea imagines #sweetpea fic #my writing ; sweetpea #my fanfiction ; sweetpea #my fics ; sweetpea #// i can't warn you enough. read.all.the.warnings. seriously people.

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jawritter · 5 years

Text

You and Me...

Chapter 5

***SERIES WARNINGS**** Rape, non-con, male!rape, injury, violence, description of injury caused by rape, nightmares, self-harm, panic attacks, implied female non-con, language, ass hole Jensen, hurt!Jensen, dark fic, smut. If there is anything else I will add it as I go.

***Chapter Warnings*** Drepressed Jensen, implied self-loathing, angst, swearing, kidnapping, I don’t think there are any triggers in this chapter. Sorry If I missed something.

Word Count: 1534

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Jared x Reader, OFC Justin X Reader

A/N: Anyway, all mistakes are mine, please don’t copy my work, Feedback is golden. If you want to be added to the series tag list, or my tag list just let me know! I hope you enjoy this one. After this chapter things tend to start to pick up a little.

Summary: It’s funny how one choice you made can change your whole life. One mistake can alter your course, and set you on a path that forever will haunt you. Two people find themselves getting through one of the hardest trials of Jensen’s life, on just one small promise. You and Me. We’ll get through it together…

Want more? Check out my Masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***YOU AND ME MASTERLIST***

Walking into work the next morning you felt a lot better about the situation with Jensen. Talking to Alex always seemed to make you feel better.

He was right, maybe you were being a little too touchy, but you weren't exactly as ready to apologize as you thought you were. So you decided today when Jensen came in to record that you would just kind of avoid any contact with him that wasn’t strictly business. Not put yourself in a situation to get into any sort of conflict with him, and if he said something hurtful to you, you wouldn't let it get to you.

"What's up Justin," you say, flopping down in your chair in the recording room.

Justin looked a little afraid. Like he had something to tell you and was afraid of what you would do when he told you.

"Y/n...I got some bad news this morning, please don't shoot the messenger," he said, holding his hands up in surrender.

You narrowed your eyes at him and gave him your best deadpan bitchface you could come up with.

"Okay... That depends on what you're about to tell me."

What the hell can go wrong now?

"Jennifer called and quit this morning. She wouldn't tell us why. We tried everything to make her stay, but she refused. Steve wrote and emailed her a letter of recommendation so that she can find her another job quickly, but that's gonna put you bringing Jensen whatever he needs until we can find a replacement."

He put his hands up in a defensive pose waiting for you to throw something at him, saying everything he had to say in a rush.

"She quit," was all you could say, shocked at what you were hearing.

Why in the world did she quit? She was all excited to work with Jensen yesterday. She was such a big fan of his work. Head over heels for the man. You hadn't noticed him being rude or mean to her at all. What the hell happened overnight?

Your thoughts were interrupted by Jensen and Jared walking into the recording room. Jensen said nothing, just kept his head down, and stood quietly behind Jared.

Jared on the other hand seemed to be in a good mood as always, joking and laughing at everyone in the room.

"Ready to get started?" Justin asked Jensen. He just shook his head, avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room.

He made his way with his head still down, staring at the floor, towards the recording room. He looked horrible. He was pale, and he looked absolutely exhausted.

All the anger you had seemed to fade at that moment, and concern took its place. Why the hell did you even care?

"Okay, take it from the top Mr. Ackles," you tell him as he situates himself on the stool with his guitar.

You had never seen him so quiet. You give Jared a questioning look, and he just shrugs.

After about five takes of the same song, you call for him to take a break. He seemed distracted, and if he couldn’t get it together you were going to just tell him that it might be best to come back and take it from the top tomorrow.

Finally, he spoke to you for the first time that day.

"Y/N? Can you bring me some coffee, please?"

The soft, polite tone that he took with you threw you for a lope. You just sat there blinking at Jared and Justin who sat there staring back at you, just as taken aback as you were.

"Sh...Sure," you tell him, standing to go and get him his coffee.

"Is he sick or something?" you asked Jared as you headed for the door.

"No idea. He's been quiet all morning," he said, watching his friend through the glass. A worried look on his face.

You grabbed the coffee quickly and opened the door to the room Jensen was sitting in, looking down at his feet, and strumming ideally on his guitar. He looked like he was a thousand miles away from yourself and this little room.

He looks up at you and takes the coffee from your hand. His fingers brushing yours briefly. Your stomach did a flip that surprised you.

“This guy's an ass Y/N. Don't let his good looks get you,” you think to yourself, trying to ignore the number of butterflies that seemed to take flight in your stomach.

"Thanks," he mumbled and looked back down at his feet. You were just about to walk out the door when he spoke up again.

"Where is Jennifer?" he asked, you tried to ignore the jealousy and the annoyance at the way he seemed to favor the young girl over you. Still, you couldn’t deny it gnawed at you.

"She's no longer employed here. Called in, and left this morning," you tell him shortly, unable to completely hide your annoyance like you wished you could have.

He just nodded his head, looking back down at his feet again almost like a dog that had been kicked too hard too many times.

“Did she turn him down or something?” you think to yourself as you take your seat in the recording room again. The thought of that makes you smirk just a little.

"Okay, Mr. Ackles one more time, and we should have it. Then we can wrap for today okay?" you say into the speaker.

He just nods his head and starts strumming again. Jared never took his eyes off his friend, staring at him and trying to read behind whatever Jensen was hiding, because something was very, very wrong.

Time Jump One week.

Jensen sat in the almost empty bar owned by his best friend looking out over all the empty tables as the music played softly around him.

It was late, very late. Jared was already gone home, asking him if he would keep an eye on the new bartender he'd hired today.

Shep had contracted a stomach bug, and Gen needed help with the kids.

Sitting at the end of the bar watching the young boy count down the register Jensen heard the bell ding as the door opened. He turned to see two very large men enter the bar and sit down on either side of him. As soon as they did an uneasy feeling hit Jensen right in the pit of his stomach.

"Sorry, guys I forgot to lock the door. We're closed,” Jensen said, looking back and forth between the two men.

"Oh come on Jensen, just one little shot for me and my boys," The rather large man said that was sitting to his left.

He was heavily tattooed. Several teardrop tattoos under his eye told Jensen he'd done some jail time. Maybe it was a good idea to just give the guy the shots then they could go.

Jensen signaled to the young bartender to give the men the shots when two other men came in and sat down at the table directly behind Jensen and the two other men. Jensen knew that they were all together, it was obvious, and they weren’t really trying to hide it.

Jensen swallowed hard, looking over at the young bartender.

"Son, why don't you go ahead and take that to the back and put it in the safe. We'll let them have this one on the house and then they can be on their way."

With that, the boy who was just as anxious to get away from the men as Jensen was to get him away from them did as he was told. As soon as the office door shut the man to his left placed a heavy hand on his shoulder, gripping it painfully.

"You're gonna come with us, pretty boy. You and I are going to have a little chat about what you did to my little sister last week,”

Standing up the man on his right gripped his other shoulder, and Jensen’s stomach fell to his feel.

“You're a hard one to find you know," he snarled, looking at Jensen like he was a piece of meat.

Jensen swallowed hard. He was screwed and he knew it. He stood quickly and swung at the man to his right that was holding his shoulder, hoping his years of playing a hunter on TV had paid off.

Before his fist even met the man's face the other three men grabbed Jensen and threw him over one of the tables in the bar, tying his hands together with a twist ty tightly. The large tattooed man clicked his tongue disapprovingly at Jensen, then leaned down, pressing all his body weight onto Jensen’s back, licking the side of his neck. His hot breath and tongue made Jensen’s stomach lurch, and he fought against the uncontrollable urge to throw up.

"You shouldn't have done that boy," he said, as he stood up, and the other men hauled Jensen to his feet, slapping silver duct tape over his mouth they started dragging him out the front door. Jensen struggled the best he could. Before he reached the street something hard came down on his head.

A sharp pain shot through his body, and everything went black. If only it had stayed black.

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

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@deanwanddamons @imabitch4jensen @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278 @alanegaming @magssteenkamp @lemondropirwin

Series Tag List:

@imaginationisgrowth

@idksupernatural

@fuzzycloudsz

@supernatural-bellawinchester

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#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles series #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensenackles fafic #jensen x you #jensen x reader #jensen series #jensen fanfic #hurt!jensen #dark fick #jawritter #you and me

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haljathefangirlcat · 3 years

Note

Okay, pls tell me about this: "heartfic au"

As you MAY have already guessed ;) it’s a fic inspired by @janiedean’s beautiful ASOIAF heartfics.

For those unaware: one day, an anon suggested Janie write an ASOIAF fanfic set in an AU where, after suffering too much pain and trauma, people’s hearts (represented by glowing spheres of light) may crack and bleed and, eventually, spontaneously disappear from their owners’ chest to reappear wherever their soulmate is. Said soulmate then takes care of the heart, trying to heal its wounds and/or stop its bleeding, until they’re finally able to give it back. And then, ofc, romance and (more) hurt/comfort ensue. I think the initial prompt was JB, because iirc that’s what the first heartfic was? But Janie also wrote similar fics about other ships, like Davos and his wife getting Stannis’ heart or Sansa getting Sandor’s.

Janie has said on a couple of occasion that she’s fine with other people using the same concept, since it was that anon who came up with it. I decided to write Arthurian fic about it because the whole idea was just screaming GALAHAD/MORDRED!!!! over and over at me.

Basic plot is “kid!Galahad gets a cracked, bleeding heart and figures it’s that of a damsel in distress he will have to save one day because ofc, he’s Miracle Boy and everything, but oh no, all the ballads say brave noble knights marry the damsels in distress whose hearts they heal, and he has to stay Pure to find the Grail!! ... but hey, maybe they can be just friends?? Then he grows up, goes to Camelot, starts this weird friendship (?) with Mordred as the two Local Subtly (Or Not So Subtly) Ostracized Awkward Prophesized Bastards Of Very Important People, and realizes it was never about a damsel at all. Cue DRAMA on both sides (”WAIT HOW DOES IT WORK DOES THIS MAKE IT BETTER OR WORSE I MEAN CAN WE HAVE LIKE A PLATONIC VIRILE FRIENDSHIP OR DO WE HAVE TO --” “OH GREAT I’M NOT GOOD ENOUGH EVEN FOR MY GD SOULMATE NOW” and a bunch of other stuff) until Galahad leaves on the Grail Quest and experiences a lot of horrible shit until his own heart goes to Mordred to protect itself, proving they truly ARE meant to be together and prompting Galahad to refuse the Grail and ascending to Heaven (after a lot more internal turmoil, probably) so he can come back to him.”

Here’s a peek from a scene I’m particularly proud of:

As it turns out, he wasn’t lying.

Mordred can’t deny it as he stares at the thing Galahad took out of the chest under his bed, the thing that was in the leather pouch, the thing wrapped in wool like it was fragile and precious. The thing in Galahad’s hands, held gently, shivering like a branch in the wind, glowing like live coals, pulsating – no, not pulsating, beating.

The void in his chest longs for it, aches for it, covets it. No. No, it’s more than that. It’s not just desire but a need, a hunger. It makes him helpless before it, pulls him towards it like a riptide, and it’s all he can do to struggle against it and resist it, holding his arms rigid by his sides and not moving an inch from his position.

«It’s yours,» Galahad say, uselessly, and he opens and closes his mouth and lowers his gaze like he doesn’t know what else to say.

«Yes. It’s mine,» Mordred replies, just as uselessly. Then, after a moment, he adds: «Those are even my colors.» More because he’s just noticed than for any other reason. His bewildered tone probably makes his words sound even more foolish. But he won’t blame himself for that too much, not right now, because the first thing he noticed was the redness – the blood. The splotches of blood and the many, ragged scars. Hard to notice anything else, after seeing that.

His heart is an ugly thing. That’s not surprising, at all, but he chokes back bitter laughter all the same.

Galahad’s head whips back up at the sound, and he looks startled and a bit confused. «Uh. Ah, yes, that’s true. I hadn’t thought… or, mh, noticed…» He stops, frowning.

Right then, a thought strikes him like a slap across the face, part hope and part dread and entirely stupid. «Gaheris has silver and purple in his arms, too.» Mordred hesitates and bites his lip, feeling inexplicably like a child about to confide some secret that’s at once all too important and too silly to be exposed, and then continues: «Not only that, but the silver reminds me of Orkney’s sea in winter… and that purple, of a flower that blooms sometimes on the heaths near the sea. My brothers and I all used to play on the coast as boys. They already did it long before I was even born.» Another pause. «As for the flower, I think we all picked it for our mother at least once.» And now, its color is dirtied and muddled by bloodstains.

Galahad shakes his head. «I’ve never thought too much about what the colors might mean. But I’ve also never felt like it could belong to any of your brothers.» There’s a light flush on his cheeks, now, a thin note of something that’s almost stubbornness in his voice. Mordred is aware that he could use that to tease him.

He doesn’t feel like teasing him. «Still… how can you be so certain?»

Galahad blinks and then stares him right in the eye, and suddenly his chest is tight, full of something that itches and stings and prickles under the other man’s calm, blue gaze. «Aren’t you? Don’t you feel it’s your heart?»

He does. He does, and that’s just the problem. The itch grows more intense, more unbearable with every moment he keeps his mouth shut to avoid answering. He drops his gaze to the thing that’s still in Galahad’s hands, the thing that��s calling to him and only him and seems to be beating faster and brighter the more he looks at it and does nothing else, almost like it’s yelling at him in its own way for making it wait so long.

«What if I don’t want it,» he says, and his voice sounds rough and weak to his own ears.

«Why wouldn’t you want it?» Galahad asks that like he honestly can’t think of any reason why, like this is the first time anyone in the whole world has ever said anything like what Mordred, not-so-secret bastard prince and prophesized kingslayer and kinslayer of Camelot, has just said. Maybe it is. He’s pretty sure he’s never heard any songs about any beleaguered damsel who simply told the dashing hero at the foot of her dreary tower, oh no, my good sir, you may keep it, I was fine without it and I will not need it anytime soon.

But Mordred is not a vulnerable maiden or locked up against his will and at the mercy of a cruel brother or uncle or eagerly waiting to be rescued since he was half his current height, so he steels himself and tries again: «What if I’m just fine the way I am now? What if I don’t need it, after all? I’ve spent years not feeling anything, I’m used to it.»

He looks up in time to catch the flash of naked hurt that crosses Galahad’s fine features, briefly replacing startled incredulity before it turns into barely concealed worry. «Are you sure?» Then, he seems to really think about it… and the fingers of his right hand start stroking the thing, lightly and unthinkingly. «I… I can imagine something has happened that you may not want to remember. Maybe you’ve felt things you don’t want to feel again. But is this really better? Would you really keep living like this?»

The spark of anger mixed with spite that flares up in his gut – at Galahad’s questioning and his assumptions that he can imagine and that he knows what living like this is like, those soft caresses that feel so impossibly familiar and intimate when at most they should be irritating or even disturbing in their presumptuousness, the way he feels himself ache for entirely new reasons – tempts him to say that yes, he would, and yes, this is better. It has to be. Has to be better than this ridiculous, confusing, terrible mess that Galahad’s dragged him into. Had he never come to Camelot, or least, had he never come to him with truths that sounded like bad jokes and his honest, open gaze and their stupidly engaging arguments and the quiet evenings spent together hiding away from everyone else and…

«Aren’t there things you’d like to feel? For your family, or your friends, or…»

Mordred sighs. There were lots of things, back when he had first given up his heart and spent his every waking moment wishing to get it back somehow. That was years ago, though, and after some time had passed and he had finally figured out that wishing never helped with anything, all of them had started to seem less desirable, less important… just, less. They didn’t matter anymore, and so he didn’t want them then and doesn’t want them now. And yet… it seems foolish to even think about it, like he’s slipping back into stale old fantasies and half-forgotten, senseless hopes, but… maybe there are a couple of new things, now.

He sighs again, this time trying for a slightly exasperated but mostly careless tone, and holds his hands out in front of him as soon as he’s sure they’ve stopped shaking. He swallows and says: «Alright, I think I’ll give it a try. But know that I might just throw it out again and then you’ll be stuck with it.» He tells himself that he’s not afraid. He is, of course, but he’s such a convincing liar, he knows he can convince himself. It can’t be too hard, right?

Galahad grimaces, and that’s not too encouraging, even if he’s quick to school his features before he slowly, almost gingerly reaches his hands out to him, too. Mordred has half a mind to snap at him and say, look, I was only jesting, I’m not saying you’ll really have to keep it or that I’d care if you left it on the wayside or threw it into a well, but then he worries that the bile might blend with actual pity and so he says nothing except for: «How am I supposed to do this, then?» The songs, of course, skip the boring technical details.

Galahad fits the glowing sphere between his palms like he’s putting a newborn into the cradle, touches his fingers to make them curl over it as if he’s afraid he’ll drop it. The sphere is light as a breath, yet somehow solid, and warm like a living thing… which it truly is, all things considered, although that thought still feels a little absurd. Galahad’s skin is warm, too. «I’m not sure,» Galahad admits. «I’ve… never done this before.»

«Yeah, well, neither have I.»

#wip meme #my fic #otp: whether sinner or saint #lordhellebore #ask

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txdoroki · 4 years

Note

heyo ˙˚ʚ(´◡`)ɞ˚˙ omg i love ur account, ur literally my favourite person on this app sfngnbodmv ur posts make me so happy. basically i want to start writing drabbles and fics and stuff so i was just wondering where 2 start & how u got started :)

hi! aww tysm :,) that means a lot!

well, i started by making a post asking people for requests (as i started as a request writing page, not really that way anymore because it’s easier to not get burnt out for me if i do the stuff i genuinely want to write!) and i used all of the tags i could.

(if youre planning on doing mha writing, bakugou and todoroki content generally does the best. the first 3 tags you use, your content will show up under tagged when you search the tag in specific, so i suggest doing bakugou x reader, todoroki x reader, and whatever else as your first three for your starting request post!)

if you aren’t planning on doing requests, i suggest maybe an intro post. like “hi! i’m (name) and im a writer! here are the fandoms i’ll be writing for, and a few things about me!”

try and have your first writings be consistent, it doesn’t matter that much but it’s good to have content for ppl to read rather than literally one post and it’s an intro. if people see the intro, they will prolly click on your account to see your writing and such. so, imo it’s important to have some writing to begin with

i’ve noticed, that using more tags doesn’t necessarily = more notes! the first few matter the most, and after that, it can help to do the category and such

let’s say i wrote a bakugou fluff. i’d use these tags: bakugou x reader, bakugou imagine, bakugou fluff, bakugou katsuki, mha bakugou- give or take a few! you can find examples under my MOST RECENT writing posts, as i did different experiments with it and the more useful your tags are the better. my “if you came into their room in the middle of the night” post was the experiment, and it turned out that i was right, more tags ≠ more interaction

on that note, INTERACT WITH PEOPLE. this isn’t against anyone who doesnt like interacting, but it can help build relationships with followers! if you’re comfortable with this, you can open your asks box so people can say stuff (you don’t have to have anons on but it can be nice for ppl who are shy/dont want their acc out yk)! if you get anon hate, just block the anon if you want. or dont respond.

also, it’s rlly cool to get a few mutuals! i’d love to be your mutual if you want to, just lmk your account whenever you start posting! sometimes i make mutual posts asking for mutuals, you can do something like that if you would like

my first ever oneshot thing i wrote, was one i rlly remember writing! that might not be the same for my viewers, but i usually remember someone by the first thing i’ve seen by them. first impressions matter, so try and figure out how you wanna be seen! ofc don’t fake being someone you’re not, but it might be confusing to ppl if your first impression doesn’t match with how you act the rest of the time!

your first post usually sets the tone for your blog, or at least the first one that gets you your audience. if you, in your first post that gains you followers, say that you’ll be writing for danganronpa, and then instead write for mha, everyone would kinda be like. what? i thought you were a danganronpa writer??? ya know

BE SURE TO INCLUDE GENERAL TRIGGER WARNINGS ON POSTS THAT NEED THEM. ADD THE TOPIC ITS WARNING ABOUT TOO. EVERYONE WILL APPRECIATE IT BECAUSE IT IS JUST A NICE THING TO DO PLEASE DO THAT!!

i suggest making a navigation page (like my pinned post) and a masterlist (you can do all your writing in one or even seperate masterlists for each character, whatever you’d like)! it can really help to have a spot to go and be able to find all of the writing you’ve done without endless scrolling! if you need a tut on how to add links to posts, im sure theres a tut on youtube!

A REALLY HELPFUL THING TO DO IS WHENEVER YOURE MOTIVATED WRITE LIKE FIVE THINGS SO WHEN YOU DONT FEEL LIKE WRITING, YOU HAVE POSTS! fr tho, ppl usually wont mind if you arent super active. if they do, theyre being dumb!

posting consistently CAN help your posts reach more ppl, but if you can only post every now and then, it isnt really a problem! don’t stress it if you’re too busy/dont have a schedule, it wont kill your account

tl:dr;

-add trigger warnings on things when needed

-make a navi page (not needed)

-if you’re motivated, write stuff to post later

-first impressions matter

-mutuals!

-less tags can work more, but i’ve also seen a lot of tags work good as well

-INTERACT WITH PEOPLE

-don’t say you’ll do things just for followers. they aren’t just a number, they’re actual people

how i started in five steps:

1. i made a post that was like “hey! im mack and i want to start doing writing requests! do you guys have any?”

2. i did a few posts then was like ah fuck i need a masterlist, so i made that and then made an about me with random facts i thought of and such. (also make sure tou put your pronouns in your bio so ppl arent confused!)

3. i did more posts and started gaining, but didn’t really mind it. i kind of just vibed, cause the numbers dont determine how good of a writer you are, so i focused on working on my writing style and such! i kinda ghosted the whole blog for a week straifht beside from queued reblogs, but came back later when i had inspo! it’s good not to run your brain dry

4. i redid my whole blog, made it pretty! its rlly motivating to me to have a nice blog, but it isnt required! i made an organized navigation page, and started focusing on getting my reach back. (btw, prime posting time is at like midnight!) be sure to put rules and boundaries on your page as well, so people do not end up crossing one that you didn’t state.

5. i reminded myself that i can do things other than my blog when i’d get a little too obsessive over it, and that it wasn’t going anywhere! don’t feel pressured to post a LOT. only post when you want to and can. don’t put responsibilities like health aside just for your blog.

hope this was helpful <3

#writing tips #swaggy.m #blog tips

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psycheswritings · 5 years

Text

Nothing’s Fair in Love and War - Three

Title: Nothing’s Fair in Love and War Fandom: Peaky Blinders Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Daphne Scott (OFC) Warnings: Swearing, I guess. Word Count: 5019 Author's Note: Sorry for the delay. Life has been a bitch this week and I was hating everything I wrote. Thanks to everybody that liked and commented on the fic, honorary mentions to @blues022, @livingmybestfakelife, @livvtheangel and @stressedandbandobessed7771 - thank you all for taking your time to review this, it makes my heart swoon with happiness. @livvtheangel kindly asked for me to add some kind of separation between the scenes to make it easier to read, I have already done it on the other parts and will do it in every chapter from now on. It was supposed to have a blank space between the scenes but God knows what happened. Let me know if its better this way. And, finally, before I go, @stressedandbandobessed7771 asked to be tagged in the series, which I'm going to do from now on, and I wanted to let you all know that if anybody wants to be tagged too, let me know. As always, this haven’t been proofread, so feel free to report any mistakes back to me; warnings are expecific for each chapter. Also, your feedback is also highly appreciated. I relly hope you like this one. Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Daphne receives a very unexpected invitation while the Shelby's have to deal with Sabini's retaliation. Tommy buys a new horse and gets to know a possible new asset at the same time that Polly tries to understand what is the nature of his interest in the woman working with Solomons. Ada has a heart to heart with her friend and Alfie makes a surprise for Daphne.

Three

“Next month?!” Daphne’s shocked expression and high-pitched tone of voice made the engaged couple laugh. William was a little behind them, by the door, a smirk on his face. “Now I understand what you’re saying about them hushing things.”

“You never believe me.” Daphne just rolled her eyes at his mockery before Jane quipped in her defense.

“Well, you have a habit of overreacting about things.” The doctor narrowed his eyes to looks at his sister.

“Always knew that you were going to be a little traitor.” They all laughed, apart from William, although everyone knew that it was just an act.

“Nothing like a little display of sibling love by the Weston’s.” Alfie commented, surprising Daphne with his good mood. The last few days had been a little strange for them, both had totally ignored the episode of the window, but his words kept coming back to haunt the woman every time she looked at him. She was distracted observing him when their eyes met, Alfie gave her a heartwarming smile that Daphne promptly returned.

“We are always happy to entertain, Alfie.” There was false mockery in his tone.

“But we didn’t come here for William to complain about everything.” She turned to face the other woman, her expression was serious but joyful. “I want you to be my maid of honor.” Daphne blinked a few times, shock washing trough her. She expected to be invited to the weeding, of course - the two of them were good friends, after all – but being Jane’s maid of honor wasn’t something that she had in mind.

“Oh, I… Of course. It will be my pleasure.” Jane got up to embrace her friend, bubbling with happiness.

“William here already accepted to be the best man, despite his constants complains.” That resulted in Charles receiving a slap on the back of the head, given by his future brother-in-law, making them all laugh aloud.

“In all these years that I know him I never saw William do anything without complaining.” He looked at Daphne shaking his head.

“What’s this, a plot to ruin my reputation?”

“What reputation, mate?” Charles chocked in laughter and soon the others accompanied him.

“Et tu, Brute?”

“What can I say, mate. You make it too easy, aye.” When they all recovered from their laughter, Jane addressed herself to the gangster.

“Of course you’re invited too, Alfie.”

“And I will be there, for sure. Wouldn’t miss William’s speech for anything.” That was something that Daphne had missed, the friendly banter between Alfie and William, that brought a genuine smile to her face that didn’t escaped Alfie’s eyes.

“The betrayal. I thought we were friends, Solomons.” The doctor complained while Alfie just shrugged.

“What can I say, business is business, my friend.”

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“This had better be good to interrupt my holiday.” Polly rushes into the betting shop after John has opened the door that connects it to the house. It’s clear that she is in a hurry and in no mood to small talk.

“Where's the boy?” Arthur asked when she was putting her things on the table.

“In the back room. I only brought him because afterwards we're going to the museum.” Another obvious thing was that she didn’t wanted Michael involved in the family business, even though she knew it was an herculean task.

“He wanted to come in and say hello but...”

“Shut up, John. There is nothing of interest to Michael in this room.” Said nephew stopped talking altogether, looking a little dismayed. “Tommy, get on with it.”

“Last night, one of our men had his throat cut in Winson Green. This morning, I had a telegram to say it was Sabini who ordered it.”

“And it says here that Thomas Shelby's next.” Arthur added, ripping said telegram into pieces. Despite the death threat on his life, Thomas didn’t looked that concerned, like he wasn’t with most things. Just another day in the job.

“If our men think we can't look after them in prison, they'll not work for us. Sabini knows that. So we need to get the Green sorted out. Scudboat, you and one of the boys. Break a couple of windows and get yourselves arrested. I'll have our coppers get you into the Green and you can find the bastards who did it.”

“Instead of breaking a window, can we pinch a car?” All of the men, besides from Tommy, start laughing. “What? Everybody else is getting a bloody car. I'm still on a donkey.”

“All right, just get yourselves fucking arrested, it doesn't matter how. And before you all laugh, a boy is dead. He was just a kid. We'll start a fund for his family, Pol.”

“Agreed.” The woman says, solemnly. “So is that it? Can I go now?” She starts picking up her things just to hear Tommy talking again.

“Well, as company treasurer, I need your permission to spend a thousand guineas.” That makes her stop and look at him.

“On what?”

“On a horse.”

“A thousand guineas on a horse?”

“That's right.”

“When was this decided?” She starts passing, deep in thinking.

“You've been busy with Michael.” He knew that she would question it but this was a means to an end. Sometimes it was difficult to make people see what he saw. Even Polly.

“Oh, my God. So, in the absence of common sense, you boys have had an idea.”

“Polly there's a thoroughbred quarter-Arab filly up for auction at the Doncaster Blood Stock.” Polly looks at him.

“What do we want with a thousand guinea horse?” Tommy sighs, before explaining.

“When we make our move on Sabini's racing pitches, any men we get into the betting enclosure will be lifted by Sabini's police. A good racehorse is a passport to the owner's enclosure.”

“We'll be in there with all the toffs. Coppers won't know where to look.” Arthur adds and John accompanies him, excitedly.

“Yeah, the Epsom Derby, Pol. We'll be drinking with the bloody King.”

“The Derby? Did he say the Derby?” The glare Thomas gave to his younger brother erased the smile in John’s face while he lowered his head. The leader of the Peaky Blinders took a deep breath and cleared his throat before speaking.

“That's right. For the last ten years, Sabini has made it his race. If we're going to take him down, might as well make it there as a symbol.”

“Did you come up with this idea in a pub by any chance?” Her tone was drenched in pure sarcasm.

“Pol a good racehorse is an investment, like property. We need to diversify the portfolio.”

“So when is this sale?”

“Tomorrow.”

“And Tommy's had a death threat so we'll have to go with him for protection.” The older of the Shelby siblings explained.

“So, you're going to close up the shop, go out on a piss-up and blow a thousand guineas on a horse that's not even whole Arab?”

“Quarter Arab is better! Quarter Arab, it means...” Polly cuts him off.

“Curly, shut up.” The door that connects the betting shop to the house open to reveal Michael. Polly instantly looks reprovingly at John. “I thought I told you to lock that door.”

“He did. I used the key on the nail.” The younger boy explains. “Look, I've been listening. I want to go with them.”

“You see?!” The Shelby matriarch throws her arms up in exasperation while Tommy looks at his cousin.

“I love horses. I could even help!” The excitement mixed with hope that his mother would allow him to go with his cousins was evident in Michael’s face.

“Over my dead body.” The older woman said, crossing her arms.

“It'll be all right, Mum. I've been to loads of horse auctions before with my uncle. They're very respectable. People bring their butlers.”

“Yeah, and their posh wives!” Arthur said, smirking and taking a sip of his whiskey.

“And their mistresses.” Added John, elbowing his cousin while they laughed.

“Let him come, Polly.” Arthur tried to convince the woman. “We'll go there, buy a horse, come back.”

“I'll drop him back at the house in Sutton before it gets dark.” Promised John to his aunt.

“No. Fucking no.” Michael left the room slamming the door behind him, clearly upset. Polly looked at Thomas and after a minute that seemed to last too long, he treated to clear the room.

“All right, that's it. Back to work.” All of the men started to leave, going back to his own tasks. John stayed behind, approaching his aunt.

“Come on! Aunt Pol, when I was Michael's age, I'd killed a hundred men and seen a thousand die. If you want to scare that kid away forever, carry on how you are going. If you want him to stay, let him come.”

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Thomas couldn’t say that he was surprised to see his aunt entering his office later that day. After the incident with Michael earlier he expected that she would come around, he just didn’t predicted the reason why she wanted to talk to him.

“How’s Michael?” He asked when she took a sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk, his eyes not leaving the papers he was analyzing.

“Beaming with happiness now that he wored me down to go with you lot, tomorrow.” She answered with a sigh. “But that’s not what bought me here.”

“What it is then?”

“That woman” Polly started, waiting for his attention to be back on her, but he ignored it completely, the only reaction that she got was his pen freezing for a couple of seconds “the one you and Ada were taking to at the Garrison.”

“What about her?” His tone was dismissive, however, his aunt wasn’t foolish. She was pissed off with him that night at the reopening of the Garrison, but she most definitely saw his interaction with the unknown woman that had arrived and departed of the pub like smoke, but not before drawing all eyes to her.

“Who is she?”

“She is the woman who works with Solomons.” He hoped that would end with the interrogation but he wasn’t that lucky.

“The one you were curious about?” Tommy exhaled loudly, dropping the document he was currently reading to look at his aunt.

“Yeah, that would be her.”

“She knows our Ada.” She would have asked Ada about the woman if she had had the chance, – her niece certainly would be less evasive than Thomas -but her son had appeared at her door and the subject escaped to the back of her mind. Also, the gipsy woman needed to see his reaction to know if they were going to have another problem like they had with that barmaid.

“Yes, they know each other from London.”

“I want to meet her.” He wrinkled his forehead.

“Why?”

“Because the last time a woman caught your attention your judgment became clouded and we both know that it didn’t end well.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Maybe not yet, but I know the look in your eyes. She intrigues you. I noticed the first time you talked about her. I brushed it off because I thought it was just because of the business, but the way you behaved yourself around her that night at the Garrison tells me otherwise.” Thomas takes a deep breath but does not confirm or denies her suspicions.

“I’m certain that Ada can schedule tea for you three...”

“No. I want you to be there.” She wanted to see firsthand how he reacted to this girl because the last thing that Polly trusted was in men and their cocks. Thomas wasn’t the worst of the Shelby brothers in this topic – John was the man whore of the three of them – but since he was in charge of things in the family, the potential of trouble was higher.

“I will see what I can do.”

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“To the premises of Mr. Charles Strong, Small Heath.” The man wrote down on the book before looking up at Tommy. “What kind of premises?”

“Boat yard.” The Brummie answered unamused.

“Yachts?”

“Canals.”

“I'm curious. What is your business, Mr. Shelby?” The man asked, giving Tommy a piece of paper.

“Import, export.” Before he left, Tommy added. “But I also sell pegs and tell fortunes.”

“You beat us to it.” The feminine voice made him stop and turn around - it was the woman of the auction. The one who had been stealing glances at the gangster since they arrived.

“Did I?”

“I was trying to nab a filly for my stud.” Thomas knew that she was only trying to catch his attention, but he played along.

“Sorry.”

“Thomas Shelby from where?” He took a deep breath before answering.

“From Birmingham.”

“Goodness!” There was a certain amount of surprise in her voice, mixed with shock.

“No, not much.”

“May Carleton.” She extended her hand for him and he took it. “I breed racehorses and train them. What is it you do?”

“I rarely answer questions, is what I do.”

“Tommy, come on, hurry up! We've got to go!” Arthur shouted in the background, laughing.

“Well, before you go, if you ever decided to put that filly out, I'd be interested in having her.”

“I plan to race her.” She looked at him surprised.

“Do you have a trainer?”

“I know people.”

“I know people, too.” The woman replied giving Tommy her card.

“Tommy! We've got to get this kid back before dark or Polly will have your balls!” John shouted this time while they all laughed.

“She will have 'em!” Arthur quipped in.

“We know different people, I would guess.” Tommy just ignored his brother’s giggles in the background.

“My father knows Mick Hancock. Trained three Ascot winners.”

“Oh, so that was your father?” He was right, them. She was talking to him for a reason – a reason that didn’t involve the horse at all.

“Yes. We're joint owners of the stud. He took the majority share when my husband was killed. Ypres.”

“Tommy! We've got to get back to the caravans! The chickens are hungry!” May looked at them and chuckled before asking.

“So will you consider me?”

“I will consider you.”

“You still didn't tell me what you do.” Tommy turned to face her again.

“Oh, I do bad things. But you already know that.” She could be a good asset for their plan and maybe – hopefully - help him get his mind off of the damn mystery that was Daphne Scott.

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Things have been quite calm for Daphne since she received Jane’s invitation to be her maid of honor. She saw the girl almost daily now, helping her prepare everything that was needed for the ceremony in such a short time. To say that the youngest of the Weston’s siblings was beaming with joy would be an understatement – she was all smiles and compliments and it ended up rubbing off on Daphne, even if just a little bit.

She had met William a couple of times too, since he was involved in the preparations as much as her seeing that he wasn’t just the best man but also the bride’s older brother. He tried to sound annoyed in every meeting, but Daphne knew that he was happy for the couple, just worried that his little sister would be out of his sight from now on.

Alfie was an entirely different matter. Things had been as normal as you would expect between them. No more visits from Thomas Shelby, no more employees being knocked out cold, everything seemed to run smoothly. However, Daphne knew in her heart that something wasn’t right. More than once, she had caught him staring at her from the distance with a frown on his face, deep in thinking. He usually did not even noticed that she had caught him staring, but when he did, the Jew made quick work to turn the other way, pretending that nothing happened.

In all the years she had known him, Daphne never gave too much though about the reasons why he kept her around. Alfie wasn’t exactly what you could call “a man of his word”. She had seen him betray his associates for his own benefit more than once - and being brutally honest, she couldn’t say that if the roles were reversed she would have done different. With her, thought, he always had been anything but loyal. He had helped her in the moment she most needed and they constructed a strong bond. Strong enough for her to consider him family.

In all the years they have worked together, they learned how to read each other – that was one of the reasons why they functioned so well as partners. And that’s why she knew she wasn’t going crazy because he was, most certainly, hiding something from her. His words kept hammering in her head: “Do you trust me? Because sometimes I wish you didn’t.”.

“You look like Tommy.” Daphne blinked a few times while looking at Ada.

“What?”

“You do this thing of looking straight away, to nowhere, not blinking or moving while you’re deep in thinking. He does that sometimes.” Ada laughed when the other woman raised one eyebrow at her. “I can’t help it if you two have so much in common.” There was a pause while she poured the both of them another cup of tea. “He’s been asking about you.”

“Who?” Ada rolled her eyes, sitting down on the chair again.

“You know who. My knucklehead of a brother.” Daphne laughed at that while the other woman just observed her carefully. There was a hint of concern in her voice when she asked “Why is he so interested in you, Daph?”

“It’s not in me he’s interested in, it’s in my relationship with Alfie.” Or so she had been trying to convince herself. Since she last talked to Harriet Daphne had been trying to figure out what she felt towards the Brummie gangster, with no luck so far. It seemed that the much she thought about it more confused she was getting.

“Forgive me if I don’t believe in that for a second. I know my brother and the way he looks at you has nothing to do with curiosity about your relationship with Solomons.” Daphne had no answer to that so she took a sip of her tea trying to ignore Ada’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Just be careful, okay.”

“Ada, even if he is interested in me it doesn’t mean that anything will happen. Even if I was interested in him too.” Daphne regretted her words the moment they left her mouth.

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Interested in him?” There was a long silence where the two of them just stared at each other. “Just have in mind that Tommy usually gets what he wants and this not necessarily means that it will be what you want too.”

“Ada…”

“I really like you, Daph. And I know that deep down my brother is a good man. He’s just… Not the same since he came back from the war and I would hate to see him hurt you.” Neither of them had the time to address the subject further since Karl entered the room in a rush going straight to Daphne’s lap. As they both giggled at something that the little boy had done, the topic dissipated in the air. The unfinished conversation had to wait for another time.

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When they entered the pub everyone stood up, clapping their hands as they passed. Daphne just looked at Alfie and he only shrugged, a hand on her back to guide her through the crowd. Some of the people greeted her on their way to the mezzanine just beside the stage.

“I’ll bloody kill you, Solomons.” She said to him through clenched teeth and he laughed at her, whispering into her ear.

“No, you won’t love.” Despite being pissed off at him for ignoring her wishes of not doing anything at her birthday, Daphne couldn’t help but feel touched by his gesture.

“You tricked me into this.” He made her stop at the base of the stairs that lead to the mezzanine beside the stage, turning her to face him and resting his hands on her arms.

“I knew that it was the only way for you to come, don’t blame me for wanting to see you happy.” The young woman just nodded, ignoring all the eyes on them, before she let him lead her upstairs. She recognized almost all of the faces that turned to look at them when they arrived on the mezzanine – Ollie and his wife, Jane and Charles, William, Harriet, some of their work associates, Ada and Karl, but her eyes were instantly draw to a pair of blue irises fixed on her. His stare was so intense that she felt like getting lost in them, but the connection was broken when Karl escaped Ada’s arms and run right to her screaming “Dee Dee”, making everyone smile. She caught him by reflex while he hugged her.

“Mommy said that this was for you. She said it is your birrr…” He gave her a package that Daphne knew contained a book all the while struggling to say the word birthday. She smiled and kissed him on the check.

“Birthday, sweet pea.” Alfie chuckled behind them while Ada walked to them.

“That it.”

“What have I told you about running away from me, Karl?” It was always amazing to see Ada step into her motherly figure.

“But it was Dee Dee!” The boy protested snuggling into Daphne’s neck while the woman smiled.

“It doesn’t matter, you can’t do that, Karl.”

“It’s okay, Ada. He won’t do it again.” Karl straightened himself to look at Daphne. “Will he?”

“No, Dee Dee.” She smiled at him again and he gave her a kiss on the check. Ada could do nothing but shake her head.

“That’s a good boy.” Daphne placed him on the ground and Ada stepped closer to hug her.

“Happy Birthday, Daph. I know you hate it, but try and have some fun, will you?” They looked at each other for a moment.

“I won’t promise you anything.” The two smiled at each other and Ada hushed Karl back to where they were sitting so Daphne could talk to the other guests.

Jane almost knocked her out to the ground in a very good mimicking of what Karl had just done while everyone laughed. Charles was right behind her - the couple seemed to be stuck into a bubble of unbreakable happiness. William was trying – and failing miserably – to hide a smile right behind them.

“Trying to maintain your reputation of ‘The grumpy Weston’, I see.”

“Somebody has too.” He smiled, before hugging her. “Happy Birthday, Daph.”

“Okay, can you release her now? She’s not exclusively yours, you know?” They separated themselves from the embrace and laughed at Harriet standing right behind them, hands on her waist as if she was about to give them the scold of their lives.

“You and your wonderful timing, as always.” William huffed, rolling his eyes and receiving a slap on the arm from Daphne.

“Get away, lover boy.” The courtesan jested, smiling bright at Daphne before taking her in a hug like the others. “Are you okay?” The question was asked quietly, just for Daphne to hear. They kept each other close after they parted from the hug.

“I will be.” Harriet knew that it was a lie – Daphne was not okay, she would never be okay, not entirely and the sadness in her eyes proved that. She wanted to convince her friend that she could be happy, she should be happy, but sometimes the woman could be as headstrong as Alfie. Harriet just nodded and Daphne moved onto the next person that was waiting to greet her, with the Jew following her closely.

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The blood red of the dress contrasted with her skin and for a moment, Tommy let his eyes wander down her body. The sleeveless piece of clothing was sophisticatedly draped with intricate embroidery at the front, the velvet was loose on her curves, marked only at the waist but the back had a low-cut that showed a good amount of her skin, since her hair was loosely tied. The golden locket always around her neck.

Thomas felt pulled by her presence like a moth to a flame. He observed, curiously, as she crossed the room with Alfie right behind her, all eyes on her. Then it took him by surprise the way his nephew had run to her, hugging and kissing her as if she was family. He already knew that she and Ada were close but he was right in assuming – after Ada called her by a nickname – that their bond was stronger than he had predicted.

Polly noticed the way Tommy’s eyes were immediately attracted to the woman the moment she entered the pub. She took her time observing the girl too. It was undeniable that she was beautiful – all soft curves, long hair and a smile that could light up the whole room – but there was something more, something about the way she carried herself that made people captivated by her.

She watched Thomas observing the girl and immediately recognized the spark in his eyes – there was no denying that he was attracted to her, Polly wanted to know in what extent. The older woman saw the same spark in Daphne’s eyes when their eyes crossed just before Karl jumped into the woman’s arms. Her relationship with Ada was something that Polly would explore later, because there was no way that her niece would have left Karl around someone she didn’t trusted.

“That woman over there isn’t Harriet?” John’s voice broke the spell and Tommy looked at the woman his brother was talking about – it was the brunette, dressed in a tight navy blue skirt and white blouse mocking a the man who was hugging Daphne at the moment.

“Harriet? You must be crazy Jhonny, boy. This can’t be…” Arthur’s mouth fell open before he could finish the sentence.

“The owner of one of the most famous brothels in London?” John looked at the older Shelby, smugly, but Tommy’s attention was securely held by the interaction between Daphne and the man that had just hugged her. He seemed like one of those rich gentlemen that every mother wanted for their daughters at the same time that he held an air of rebellion. What made Thomas wary was the way his touch lingered on Daphne who seemed unbothered by it.

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Daphne graciously greeted everyone in the mezzanine – everyone except for the group of people watching her on the other side of the mezzanine. She looked at Alfie that just motioned for her to follow him.

“And I took the opportunity to invite the rest of the Shelby clam, so we could get acquaintance, aye. Now, you already know Tommy here, this is the rest of his family.”

“Arthur Shelby, at your service.” The eldest of the brothers kissed the back of Daphne’s hand, making her smile.

“Daphne Scott.”

“John Shelby, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He mimicked his older brother moves, a flirtatious smile on his face.

“Likewise. You aren’t supposed to have a wife, somewhere?” Arthur almost spat his drink trying to contain his laughter and John cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. Alfie chuckled behind her.

“She had to stay home with the kids.”

“Send her my regards, then.” He nodded at her, clearly not used being caught flirting like that. Daphne’s eyes then stopped in the older woman beside Thomas. She was staring at her quizzically but there was a hint of a smile on her features.

“Polly Gray.” She took a second too much to extend her hand for the younger woman to take, probably trying to make a point. Her grip was firm but so was Daphne’s – two could play at this game.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Ada talks greatly of you.” The girl knew how to play, Polly had to give her that. The way she handed John’s flirting showed that she knew how to handle herself and, most importantly, that she had done her fair share of research on them. By bringing Ada into the conversation right now, she was trying to gain the older woman’s good graces.

“Funny thing is that she never mentioned you.”

“I had to keep her away from the bunch of you or otherwise she would have left running.” Ada quipped in, having just arrived back at the mezzanine after going to the bathroom, before Daphne could say anything.

“Well, she is not running.” Her hazel eyes encountered Tommy’s when he spoke, keeping himself beside his aunt. Daphne held his gaze when she answered.

“It takes a lot more to make me run.”

“I hear that a happy birthday is in order.” He extended his hand to her, that she took without question, the touch lasting a minute longer than it should.

“Dee Dee, are you going to have a cake?” Daphne released Tommy’s hand to lower herself to Karl’s level before talking to the little boy.

“Maybe. Why? Will you want some?”

“’Cause when it’s your birrr…” She smiled again.

“Birthday.”

“Yeah, you have to blow the candles, right?”

“That’s right, lad. Do you want to go see if Daph’s cake is ready?” Daphne was amused at how shocked everyone looked when Alfie lowered himself at her side to talk with the little boy, who looked at him shyly. Karl looked at his mother who nodded at him, before looking at Daphne again.

“Will you help me blow out the candles?” He only nodded excitedly, before taking the hand that Alfie offered him and the two of them walked to the kitchen. When Daphne straightened herself, observing Alfie and Karl going down the stairs seemingly in a happy conversation, she directed herself to her friend. “That was a low blow, even for you.”

“What can I say, we play with the cards we have.”

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