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melissamasakari · 4 months ago

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Confessions you didn`t notice

Chapter thirteen. Siblings update.

“Kid, I've been asked to tell you to come to the Corps in the evening. Arlo said he has some news for you.”

“Why didn’t he say it himself? He just passed by, the dust has not yet settled. Didn't even say hello. Are they killing someone there?”

“Nope, the mail will be delivered to the harbor today. Wuwa has arrived.”

“Oh, crap. I'll get two heaps of letters from my aunt again. Is the post also your responsibility?”

“Apparently, there is something personal there. I didn't ask. Maybe some documents from Lucien.”

“Oh dear. Is the Red Rage Season on the horizon?”

“Something like that. Once again he will dump all the paperwork on me. Or worse – he will only deal with paperwork and nothing else.”

“And the staff hasn’t been expanded yet?”

“Maybe we’ll find out today. It's time for me to get on the route.”

“Wait, you're not on the night watch today, are you?”

“Certainly not. It's Phyllis' birthday.”

“Oh, right! Thanks for reminding me. I just have enough time to bring her a gift. Have a great party tonight.”

“We'll try our best, bye-bye.”

News, that is. Did he really manage to dig up something? Or is he waiting for something different? I just hope this is not an order for an urgent transfer to another Corps unit.

“Arlo, are you home?” I went into the suspiciously quiet reception room of the Headquarters. There was a commotion coming from the showers. Okay, remember, Melissa, you're here on business. STOP fantasizing how does he look like right now.

“Wait a little, I’ll be right there.” What’s making SO much noise in there?

“Are you okay there?”

“Almost. I got attacked by a scary creepy bucket. But I can handle it. Who the fuck put it here and when?” I heard the clanking metallic sounds again. He kicked it, right? So a new one will now be needed. Oh, here he comes. With a wet hair, a towel on his shoulders, scented with herbs and wearing cozy home attire. Looks quite cute.

“What did you want to tell me? And is this connected with today's return of Wuwa?”

“To a certain degree. Come with me.”

I obediently followed surprisingly smug Arlo and carefully walked around the sports equipment scattered here and there. I could see that his collection is growing. And there seemed to be more photos at the nightstand. As I was staring at the changes within his room, I tripped over a sports kettlebell. Holding back a cry of pain, I realized the irony of the situation: I gave it to him myself.

“Are you okay? Sorry, I just flew in recently and didn't have time to clean up. How bad are you hurt?”

“It’s unpleasant, but nothing critical, just hit my little finger. Well, so what are your news?”

“Sit down, before you get hurt more,” he cleared the table and pulled out a chair for me invitingly. “Are you sure you don’t need a doctor? Xu's on duty today.”

“Maybe we’ll go later. Just spill your news, Captain.”

“Briefly speaking.”He rummaged through a pile of papers “they dug out Maurice’s medical record for us. It's obscenely old, but the basic information is there. There's also something about Clara if you need it. Unfortunately, not much, but I did everything I could.”

“Mom’s documents? Wow! I have almost nothing left from her. Let me see!” I reached for the stack of papers in his hand.

“Not so fast,” he teased, holding the stack of papers close. “You promised me something in return.” Oh, what a sly smile. I still hope that he will just ask for a DATE. True, I still don’t know what’s in the documents. Maybe we can't date at all.

“You still haven’t told me what do you want. If you broke the wall there with a bucket, I’ll fix it – no problem.”

“You will NOT get off that easy. I want to know what kind of investigation you’re doing. And why did you need the help of all the doctors and scientists.” Wow, so he dug it up. Okay, he cornered me.

“Fine. Let me collect my thoughts a little. You caught me off guard with this question. It's like I'm under interrogation.”

“I can bring you some tea while you’re collecting yourself. How much sugar do you want?”

“Two. No, better three and tea should be very strong. Wait, what? You've never had sugar here.”

“Now I do.”He pointedly shoved a stack of papers that interested me onto the top of his wardrobe and left.

I had no intention of peeking without permission. Although the law is on MY side now, actually. Well, how can I tell him all of this now? I will have to be as honest as possible, there are no other options. Because without his participation, the solution is not possible.

“Here you go. I’m listening,” a steaming cup of fragrant tea moved into my hands.

“If you’ll loom over me like that and I’ll forget why I came.”

“Because of fear? Am I that formidable?”

“No, out of admiration. For someone I suspect to be my older brother,” I blurted out and took a sip from my cup. It is delicious, alright.

“What? I would know if I had a sister. But my parents never got to get me one.”

“Gale thinks that you look suspiciously like me and Maurice.”

“How? Almost half of the city looks like you and me in various combinations. Are you going to consider everyone as relatives?”

“Why not? I’ve always wanted a real family. And it is quite possible that somewhere in the Free Cities I have a dozen of siblings. Pa didn't mourn for too long as far as I can tell...”

“Maybe. But at least Clara or Kendra should have known about the presence of someone older than you. So, you are against having me as your family?”

“I definitely did NOT say that.” Actually, I REALLY want to.

“Then what is it?”

“Would you be satisfied with this ‘brother’ status? In relation to ME.”

“Now that you’ve turned it around like that, I don’t know. But nothing stops us from going and checking. Right now. And we’ll show you your little finger to a doctor right away too.”

“Don’t you want to dry your hair properly first? The wind will blow it and you can catch a cold.”

“It’s too hot out there. But at least I can think clearly this way.”

Throwing the towel onto the bed and taking the papers from the closet, Arlo dragged me towards the exit.

“Hey, Xu! Hello, I need to talk business with you. No, two businesses,” the redhead dumped a stack of papers in front of the puzzled doctor and pointed at me. Come on, I’m hardly limping anymore, why such concern? “Please examine this young lady, she had hurt her foot and she is probably lying about the severity of her condition.”

“Good evening. Go to the couch, take off your shoes. And what’s the second thing?” The doc slowly left his place at the table, took the examination instruments and walked towards me while I followed his request.

“You’ve probably already heard this question recently. Can you check if two people are related? We have a noisy argument, and I want arguments.”

“Yeah, I understand. Give me that vial from the third shelf. Now you’ll feel some unpleasant sensations,” the doctor grabbed my foot and anointed me with something smelly from that vial. Then he gently blew on the injured area and deftly bandaged everything with a small piece of cloth and let me rest.

“Thank you, Xu. It was very elegant,” I praised the doctor.

“Trying my best. Do not tighten the lacing, but rather wear loose shoes. Avoid exercise for three days. If it hurts, apply something cool. If you notice severe swelling, contact me immediately. It may turn blue by morning – this is normal.”

“Mine usually turns yellow,” I slightly rolled up my shirt sleeve and showed a mark from a recent bruise just above the elbow.

“Individual reaction. Who did you want to check for blood relation? Each other, or what?”

“Well, sort of. You see, Gale spun some nonsense, and since I don’t really know much about dad, I’d like to find out.”

“Then I will immediately inform that this is absolutely impossible. I don’t argue that you have similar traits and certain suspicions could exist. Eyes with such a shade of iris are really not very common. At least here. Although, if you think about it... Take a closer look at Antoine, he is more suitable based on other criteria. And closer in age to time Maurice left.”

“What?! What kind of criteria? He never told me anything about his family. But that might explain his obsessive preoccupation with me. I’ll ask,” I said, confused. Well, Antoine is better than Arlo, of course. But that’s still very strange.

“What kind of criteria do you mean? One is not enough for a definite answer, isn’t it?” The redhead asked.

“I’m curious too. And why could it be Antoine... Is there some evidence?”

“Yes. But we are now looking the other way. Blood type is inherited. And since you have 00+ and you inherited it, judging by these papers, from your father, then...”

“Then?” Arlo became interested and pushed forward, leaning his elbows on the table, on the exact spot from where the doctor had recently moved.

“Do not interrupt! This combination is not possible. Your blood type is too rare. AB +. In the Old World there were less than ten percent of such people. Maurice cannot possibly be your father; he does not have the necessary, to put it simply... inherit traits. Besides, I'm quite confident in your parents, too. They have just such a combination that works out perfectly to produce you. What made you doubt?”

“I guess I just believed in the idea that I could have a sister,” the redhead nodded in my direction, “I had always wanted to.”

“Not in this case. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No, thank you very much. We won't distract you more.”

Arlo, now definitely-not-my-brother, for a change very carefully opened the door of the clinic, let me out and also quietly closed it behind him. Growing up, I guess?

“Well, are you satisfied with the result?”

“Quite. And you sound a bit disappointed.”

“Never mind. All sorts of stupid thoughts. May I escort you home?”

“In this clothes? Will you go through the whole city like that? No, all the girls, should they meet you along the way, they will be jealous, of course. But then all sorts of rumors will be spread.”

“Oh, stop it. We can then go to my place. Do you want to? Let's prepare dinner, rest until the morning. If your finger gets worse, the clinic is nearby. I'm hanging in my den all alone today.”

“Sounds like you're planning some family get-together after work.”

“Oh well, suit yourself. Just let's go somewhere already, otherwise the midges will skin us alive.”

“OK. Can you tell me a bedtime story, brother?” I teased and entered the headquarters.

“Whatever, just don’t ever call me that again.”

“Accepted. What are we going to cook?” I asked starting towards the kitchen.

“Can you teach me that creamy spaghetti recipe? It seems like we have everything we need for that recipe.”

“No problem. I’ll just go get changed, do you mind?”

“It feels like you planned to stay from the beginning.”

“Random coincidence. Carol caught me on the way here and told me that my new home attire is ready.”

“Should I give you some slippers?”

“Your slippers? I'll end up with even more bumps. Besides, the floor is cool, which is good for my injury.”

“Well, then hop in the shower. There is a first aid kit there. The towel is fresh. Just like I knew that you'll stay here. I'll go clean up the mess in the room while waiting.”

A very badly dented bucket met me right at the threshold of the shower. Arlo kicked it well, and I somehow forgot it. It’s so strange, this is not my first time here, but today the feeling is completely different. It's like I belong here. Having properly showered, I went out to try on my new outfit. Everything was exactly as I ordered: long narrow pants made of gray stretchy fabric and a long blue T-shirt almost reaching the knees. Comfortable. It’s a pity, the mirror is fogged up, I can’t really see anything. I tied up my damp hair with the ribbon and went to the reception room.

“I'm ready. What do you think?”

“Wonderful! I had just finished and was getting lonely.”

We quickly prepared dinner leaving no mess behind. Once again I noticed how smoothly we do anything together, and it’s not tedious at all. Even cleaning was not annoying. We ate dinner in the kitchen, so as not to carry dishes. Then we washed everything right away.

“You see, I told you, you’re doing great.”

“Only under your strict guidance. It's a good thing you weren't here the last time I screwed up fried eggs.”

“You gotta be kidding me! How did you do that?”

“Hm, at first egg white wasn’t cooked through. I increased the heat and covered it with a lid. Then I just blinked for a moment and came to my senses when there were only embers. Sam then scolded me and didn’t allow me to close the windows for another two days.”

“Well, shit happens. Didn’t you think of just stirring the excessive liquid whites with a spatula in a hot frying pan? This is how we did it with the sauce today.”

“Was it possible?”

“I hope you’re just having me on now. I won’t believe that with your great cooking skills you didn’t gasp such an obvious method on your own.”

“Now I know. Or maybe, you'll show it to me in the morning, I’ll remember it better with practice.”

“Agreed. What's next for us with the declared program? Do you have some kind of night work available or you’re just on alert duty?”

“More of the second. I am here in case of something bad happens. By the way, let's go check if anyone came in.”

“Let's go, of course. I'm occupying the sofa next to the cage!” I carefully walked around the furniture, nursing my leg, and was the first to leave the kitchen.

“That’s not fair! This is my favorite spot!” He rushed after.

“What about the rules of hospitality?” I said, plopped down in the corner of the sofa, placed a couple of pillows to my convenience and tucked my legs under me.

“You're right. And obviously you’re so small that the two of us can fit in here together!”

“Well, come on, just don’t push. Where is my promised fairy tale?”

“Fine. I’ll put the baby to bed and head to my place,” I responded to this malicious remark by throwing a pillow at him.

“Once again you’ll call me baby and...”

“And what?” He interrupted me with a sly grin, fluffing the pillow he caught.

“And our relationship is over. I will stop visiting and formalize our communication. Or cut if off completely.” Ha, Melissa, do you yourself believe in your own threat?

“Got it, sorry, just don't be angry please. I won’t survive such a blow,” said Arlo, not embarrassed at all. He lounged next to me at his full height. Unable to resist, I lightly tickled his feet. There was no reaction, as If it was just the way of things.

“You’re not afraid of tickles, are you?” I was indignant and increased pressure.

“I don't know. You are the first one who dared to try. Keep going and we'll figure it out.”

“That’s not interesting. You're not reacting.”

“So how should it be? Your fingers are so warm and tender. If this should have annoyed me, you guessed wrong. By the way, this is quite surprising.”

“What exactly?”

“With such neat little hands you manage to swing a sledgehammer and carry heavy things. And then you come home in the evening and embroider all sorts of custom-made jewelry.”

“Oh, so did you see the brooch I gave to Phyllis today? I spent two weeks fiddling around and barely managed to finish it. People don't usually order things like this from me. That’s exclusive for my friends.”

“I saw it, yeah. Out of the corner of my eye. You know, considering WHERE the girls pin such decorations, I didn’t get much time to look at it,” wow, he blushed deeply. Looks so handsome.

“Yeah. She has great distraction unit,” I said with envy, “at least she liked the gift. I was very worried.”

“By the way, why aren’t you with them? I thought you'd be invited.”

“Maybe because I’m with you now?”

“An unexpected choice.”

“Why? I feel good with you. Moreover, you invited me yourself. And you also got me a royal gift.”

“Which one? I didn't seem to do anything special today.”

“Memory of my mother. And very cozy night gathering. It’s not often that someone can just find you at home like that.”

“More often than you think. But I'm usually not able to have long conversations when I'm so tired that I’m all but crawling.”

“Then I’ll take advantage of the moment. Tell me something funny, okay? Surely you have a whole load of all sorts of interesting stories from your time in Corps.”

“Well, okay. But at first I wanna hear one of yours.”

“Which one?”

“About your Civil corps badges. Why didn’t you mention before that you were in Corps?”

“Oh. You didn’t ask. And I thought you would notice such a detail in my profile sooner, Mr Great Detective. Why does it bother you now?”

“Cause I think you’re qualified enough to lead Corps here. Well, when I’ll finally get my promotion and leave that is. I need to make sure my successor will be a reliable person. I thought of Sam at first, cause Remy wants to leave to Periphery once. So... it could be your position instead, I can do that.” He thoughtfully scratched his beard while loading those thoughts onto me. “Would you accept such a job offer then?”

“FUCK YOU, red-block-head!” Or better yet fuck me instead! “No way I’m taking your place here. Don’t even dare to ask me again!” I stood up abruptly, took a few steps and heavily hit his shoulder with another pillow. I just don’t wanna think about him leaving Portia. Not NOW, I almost finished that dumb heart knot! At least give me a chance to confess properly!

“But why not? You’re good fighter, also smart and quite diplomatic. And my team admires you as well. You’ll do just great!” He tried to take the pillow out of my hand.

“I said STOP it, please,” my voice broke cause I was trying to hold my tears back and turned away. “I’ll go and make us some tea” I muttered and took a step away.

“Wait.” Arlo grabbed my wrist pulling me back. Then he sat me down on the coach beside him and hugged me from behind. I was caught completely off guard and almost bursted into tears.

For some time nothing more happened. I just sat there enveloped in his arms and listened to his heartbeat. Despite the fact that it was beating very fast it managed to calm me down. Maybe it will change pretty soon, but now he is with me. Right here. And I hope he enjoys this as much as I do. Otherwise he wouldn’t hug me, right?

“Well, now I wanna know about YOUR great plans for the future. When you’ll pass your exams and finally join The Flying Pigs.” I leaned my head a little bit back so I could rest it on his shoulder more comfortably.

“I just...Didn’t think that far. So. I don’t know for sure.”

“Understood. Right now nothing keeps you here except for your duty.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Please, prove me wrong, captain. “But now that I think about it...”

“I really like spaghetti. Oh, with hot sauce.”, I couldn’t help myself but continue his catch-phrase. I’ve heard it so many times that my imitation turned out quite good.

“Ha! You got me!” He laughed softly and released me from the hug. “Now we’re in a proper mood for funny stories, let’s get some tea and finally start.”

So we stayed there almost until dawn, comfortably sitting on the sofa. Arlo told some stories about work, I listened attentively, sipping fragrant tea. They speak the truth in the city, he’s a good tale-teller, I listened as if enchanted.

I was awakened by the strange sound of a mechanical click. Lazily opening one eye, I saw Remy, barefoot, sneaking upstairs. What a bullshit, I’m probably dreaming. The click was repeated. A more detailed inspection of the surroundings revealed that an extremely happy Sam was standing opposite the sofa with a camera in her hands. With gestures she first indicated ‘quiet’, then nodded upward, drew a heart in the air with her finger and smiled smugly. Then she touched the camera hanging on the neck strap and nodded again. What a pantomime! Why is she so happy? Following the direction of my grinning friend’s gaze, I found Arlo sleeping peacefully next to me. He still didn’t go to his bed. Instead, he sat with his back leaning against the corner of the sofa, his elbow resting unsteadily on the armrest. Trying to move as little as possible, I realized that my head was resting comfortably on his shoulder and I was partially hidden by the blanket wrapping us together. The top of my head was tickled by his red fluffy beard. He seemed to put his other arm around me, holding me close to him. I didn’t even remember when he managed to bring the blanket yesterday. After thinking a little, I settled back down to get some sleep over the strong and calm beat of his heart. I tried not to wake him up; if he wants to, he’ll get out on his own. Releasing one hand from under the blanket, I pointed my finger first at the camera in Sam's hand, then stuck out three fingers. Having waited for an affirmative nod, I showed her where my bag was and, fidgeting a little, fell asleep.

The next time I was alerted by the creaking sound of the door. Sam was doing something in the boss's bedroom. What a sly cat! I’ll find out what kind of a mess she’s done there later. She'll tell me everything anyway. I hope at least she didn’t forge his signatures.

I finally woke up when I realized that I my head and hair were gently stroked. That feels so nice! I decided to pretend to be asleep to prolong the pleasure. It might have worked, but one strand tickled my nose. Arlo recoiled, pretending that he had nothing to do with it. I jerked up sharply and sneezed deafeningly.

“Bless you!”

“Thanks. Have you been awake for a long time?” “I woke just now. I didn’t want to wake you up, it just happened,” he answered in a guilty tone. “Don’t worry,” I crawled away and stretched sleepily. I tried to look at the clock above the front door, but I couldn’t see it from here. “What time is it? Don't you need to save the world at once?” “A little after noon. Saving not required just now, so we have enough time to wash up and have a breakfast.”

“Okay,” I rubbed my eyes with my fists, “is the order arbitrary?”

“I recommend starting with your morning routine. In the meantime, I'll see what we can cook.”

“Sure. And what’s your plans for today?”

“I'm gonna ruin dive. It’s my turn.”

“Oh, yes. It’s Sunday. Well, be careful down there. Remember, safety first!”

I cleaned myself up and changed clothes and that’s when I found new photographs in my bag. Sam is an angel! Oh, how cute we turned out! Just like two sleeping kitties. I'll hang it right on the closet door! So every time I change clothes, I will recall this wonderful moment. Me and Arlo had a breakfast and went about our businesses. Now it's definitely right time to finish my special gift for him.

#mtap #mtap female builder #my time at portia #mtap arlo #mtap arlo x builder #my time at portia arlo

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bonky-n-steeb · 3 years ago

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in the low lamp light I was free

— soft! dark! bucky barnes x therapist! reader

summary || you are perfect for Bucky, and now it’s his time to show you how he is the man you need in your life.

warnings || dom!bucky. dom/sub dynamics. unprotected sex. cheating. objectification. daddy kink. spanking. degradation. praise kink. breeding kink. subspace. oral sex. corruption kink. stalking. filthy bucky. possessive bucky. a lot of dirty talk. dacryphilia. petnames (angel). PWP — MINORS DNI 🔞 if any of this makes you uncomfortable then please do not read

I have decided to not do taglists anymore, so if you wished to be notified of my newest updates please follow @bonky-n-steeb-lib and turn on the notifications!

there’s a little surprise for y’all at the end ;) hope you guys like it!

You adjusted the glasses on the bridge of your nose as you read through the letter inviting you to a conference. Once you were done, you placed it on the other side of the table and looked over to the remaining stack of mails.

You picked up a yellow envelope which was much smaller than the rest. You turned it around, front and back, and noticed there no address written on it. That meant that it had not come from the postal service, so did someone hand deliver it? Odd.

You teared open the sticky seal and gasped when you looked at the photos packed inside. You checked each and every photo thoroughly, looking for clues of photoshop, but sadly, you found none. The pictures slipped from your hands and scattered across the table as you reeled back from the shock.

The pictures were of your husband, with another woman, in bed.

You shut your eyes closed as your head kept on playing those pictures again and again. You had trusted your husband. He was a good man, or so you had thought. But seeing those photos of him balls deep inside someone else shattered your heart.

You didn’t even realise you were crying your eyes out until someone knocked on the door. You wiped off the tears and sniffled before the door creaked open. You turned your chair around and dabbed your cheeks with the hem of your blouse before facing the desk again.

“Good morning!” Bucky’s chirpy voice took you by surprise. Amidst all this, you had forgotten that your first appointment of the day was with none other than Bucky Barnes. You put on a painful smile as he entered and shut the door behind him, “‘Morning.” You wished without any lustre.

Bucky’s eyes scanned your face before his brows furrowed. “Is everything okay?” He asked as he walked closer to you. You knew you looked like a terrible mess but everything was happening so suddenly, you didn’t know what to do.

Bucky’s eyes trailed from your sullen face to your unusually messy desk. You hid your face in your palms as you prepared yourself for his pity. But when Bucky saw those strewn pictures, all he said was, “Oh.” As if in understanding.

Of course Bucky knew who the man in the pictures was, you had a photo of your husband in your office a long time back, but then suddenly it had gone missing one day. After that you had kept it in mind that maybe tomorrow you’d replace it, but tomorrow never came.

It’s broke Bucky’s heart to see you cry, but it was necessary. You had to realise how worthless your husband was. All your husband needed was a little push from Bucky to fuck the girl as if he didn’t have a goddess like you at home.

Bucky wouldn’t do that. never.

Bucky loved you so much more than anyone else ever would.

Now, he just needed you to know that.

He was going to show you how much better he could be than everyone else. He could see how broken you were, but you didn’t have to worry about it, because Bucky was going to build you back. Bucky wanted you more than he needed air, and he wanted you to crave him just as much.

You were perfect for Bucky, and now it was his time to show you how he was the man you needed in your life.

You looked up with your tears to see Bucky staring at you with an unreadable expression. You were a therapist, and if there was someone who you still couldn’t read, it was Bucky Barnes. There was something deeper in his gaze that you could never tap. Something dark lurking beneath the murky blues.

He had made a lot of progress since his first time and you were proud of it. He was honestly a very sweet man, and you didn’t know why you sometimes thought it was all a mere facade. His actions never made you uncomfortable, but the way he stared at you was too intense.

Bucky walked over to the other side of the table, where you were seated. His approach was like that of a predator stalking his prey and you nervously gulped. You stared with wide eyes as he placed his warm hand on your cheek. The unexpected move took you by surprise.

You wanted to say something, anything, but seemingly words had ran out of your mouth. And all you could do was gape like a fish as he slowly wiped off your tear tracks. His thumb travelled down until it rested on your lip. He tugged on your lower lip and you nearly forgot how to breathe.

You were looking up at him like a disciple looking at God, your enamoured eyes wide yet unseeing.

“Let me help you forget him.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as the meaning of his words seeped in. Bucky was handsome and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive. But he was your patient and you were married. You couldn’t do this, no matter how much you wanted to.

“Bucky, we can’t. You’re my patient and…” before you could speak further, Bucky shushed you. His eyes were electric and you were hypnotised with how beautiful he was. It was as if now that you were broken, the attraction for him, that you’d suppressed for so long, was leaking out of the cracks.

“You’ve helped me when I needed it. Let me help you now. Let me show you how much better I am than him; than anyone else.” His voice was deeper than usual and it sent tingles to your core. You closed your eyes to think and nuzzled his warm hand.

All your life, you had been the responsible one, the sensible one. But for once in your life, you just wanted to let go. You wanted to enjoy yourself without feeling guilty. And Bucky came along with a sinful promise of a great time.

“Yes, please.” Bucky smirked as he kneeled down to your level and pulled you into a kiss. It had been a long time, probably never, since you’d been kissed like that. His teeth were sharp as he nibbled on your lips and his lips were soft as he sucked on your tongue.

“You’re the angel in my life — the light in all this darkness. And I’m going to show you just how much you mean to me. I worship the ground you walk on, and I’ll show you how a goddess like you should be treated.” He mumbled against your lips.

Bucky removed your glasses and discarded them on the table. Now that he was closer, he kissed you until you were dizzy in your seat. You moaned in the kiss as he started unbuttoning your shirt. His flesh and metal arm were giving you the dual sensation of hot and cold and it was making goosebumps rise on your skin.

You arched your neck as Bucky started kissing down your throat. His hands removed your pants while he kept nibbling down your neck. He pulled your hips further until you were on the edge of your seat. His lips were wet as he looked up at you with blazing eyes as he pulled down your panties sensuously.

He spread your thighs apart and licked his lips as he eyed at your soaking pussy. He didn’t stop peering into your eyes as he licked a thick stripe up your wet folds. His blue eyes were hungry and the scene was the most erotic one you’d ever seen.

Your eyes closed of their own accord when he started sucking on your throbbing clit. You weaved your hand through his hair and held him close. Sizzling sensations travelled down your spine when he grunted. His stubble deliciously rubbed your inner thighs as he buried his face within your cunt with only his iridescent eyes staring into your eyes.

You chewed your lip to stop your moans but Bucky redoubled his efforts and you couldn’t stop anymore. You wiggled on his face and he held you tighter as he keenly observed your expressions. His tongue was lapping up your slick as if it was elixir of life. No one had been as passionate as Bucky and you were relishing the feeling.

His tongue licked from your clenching hole to your swollen clit before fucking into your hole. His warm tongue massaged your walls and your eyes rolled back into your head. You could feel the coil in your stomach tightening and you licked your dry lips, “Bucky… I’m going to cum.” You mumbled.

He hummed into sensitive petals and little vibrations were enough to send you over the edge. You clutched his head tighter and drenched his face in your slick as you came. Your legs tightened around his face and for a minute you grew worried but were unable to stop yourself as you experienced the waves of pleasure.

Your legs became slack as you came down from the high. Bucky’s face was shiny as he pulled back and he did a show of licking his lips. The fact that he just had you, but wanted more just sent you into a power drive. He leaned up but still kept his hands on your thighs.

“Did you like it?” He asked with a sweet smile. “Yeah. God, it was fantastic.” Your voice was breathy. You too had a silly smile on your face but when you turned your head around, you once again saw all those pictures splattered on your desk. Your smile must’ve fallen in an instant because Bucky’s face changed into something different.

“Looks like I haven’t yet fucked him out of your system.”

Bucky growled and it made you quake in your seat, with lust. His eyes were so dark, the sweet smile was long gone and now he looked like a man possessed. His this attitude was turning you on more than it was supposed to.

Bucky got up in a swift motion and and clutched your arm and pulled you up until you were standing too. Your legs were shaking, but you didn’t have it in yourself to stop Bucky. With a single quick sweep of his hand, Bucky pushed down every thing that was on your table, including those photos.

This time he wasn’t gentle when he pushed your face down on the table. You tried getting up, not because you wanted to, but because you wanted to see what Bucky would do. He kept his metal hand on your back, “Stay down.” He commanded pushing your legs further apart.

His voice was hard and it didn’t leave any place for an argument. The way he was manhandling you until you were bent on the desk was making you wet at your core. You could hear his zipper opening and the soft thud of his pants falling down. You gulped in excited anticipation to what would happen next.

You whimpered when you felt him rub his cock over your wet folds but that was all the indication you got before he slammed his length into your pulsing hole. You moaned out like a whore as you felt his thick cock stretching your walls. His cock was huge, suiting his super soldier status.

“Buck..” you sobbed out half his name as he began thrusting into you. He was hard and unrelenting and your desk was shaking with the force. You held the edge of the table tightly as you legs trembled with the way Bucky was pumping into you.

He was holding your hips tightly and he rammed into you from behind. Words and sounds you couldn’t comprehend left your lips as you lost yourself to the pleasure Bucky was giving you. His girthy cock was perfectly stimulating all the right spots.

“Did you get all dumb now, angel? Did daddy’s thick cock make you stupid?”

“Bucky!” You squealed out. His filthy words were actually making you shake to your core and you didn’t even know how that was possible. You let out a wailing cry when you felt Bucky’s metal arm slap your ass. “It’s daddy for you, angel.”

“Da… Daddy!” You cried out and the word seemed oddly perfect in your mouth. Bucky went harder when he heard you say that, it was as if he had waited all his life to just hear you call him daddy. Your fingers scraped uselessly over the ungiving wood as you tried to hold onto something.

“Yeah. Now that’s right. You’re so smart angel, but now your head’s empty, isn’t it? The only thing you can think about is my fat cock; and this is how it should be. You shouldn’t be stressing yourself with all this work, you should be keeping my cock warm. Don’t you want that?”

You blindly nodded as you didn’t even comprehend what he was saying anymore. You just knew that his words were arousing you more than ever and you never wanted him to stop fucking you. “Oh god. Fuck yes please daddy!” You mindlessly mumbled.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought of fucking you stupid on this table itself. Seeing you being all smart and suave just made me want to make you go silly on my cock.” Bucky knew you weren’t really listening, so he finally said the thing he wanted to say for so long. “Do you even know how much I love you.”

Your eyes were closed and your mouth was open as you drooled over the table and it was much better than he had ever imagined. Your body had gone lax as he kept ramming into you, finally channelling the need he shut inside him for so long.

“You like being just a hole for me, don’t you? Who would’ve thought you’re such a whore, angel. Or are you just a whore for me? Does he fuck you like this?” When you didn’t answer and just kept moaning, Bucky spanked you again. Your eyes flew open wide and he smirked as you came back to the land of the living.

“I asked, does he fuck you like this?” Your body was a hot wire ready to go off and Bucky asking you such question which were making you practically dizzy. Your husband did fuck you good, but never like this. “No daddy. Only you.”

Bucky’s chest swelled up with pride, “yeah. Only me. He must be such an idiot to not fuck this tight pussy every chance he got. Good for me though. You’re mine aren’t you?” He growled possessively. “Yes.” You meekly answered.

“I want everyone to know you’re mine. Maybe I should put a baby in you so that everyone will know who you belong to.” His words made your brain completely short circuit. “Daddy! Please… please please!”

“Yeah? You want that too? God, you’re so good for me. So perfect for me. I can’t wait to cum deep inside you until you’re swollen with my child. I’d take such good care of you. You’d look so pretty, all glowing and lovely.” His words were too much and you couldn’t stop yourself anymore.

Your orgasm hit you like a train, hard and high. Your face was drenched in sweat as your body actually shook from the force of it. Plasmic stars burst behind your eyes as you floated on the strong currents of your bliss.

Bucky fucked you through your orgasm and soon you felt his thrusts grow uncoordinated as he came inside you. He went as deep as he could as your orgasm became even more intense when you felt his hot cum fill you. Bucky was still mumbling but you were too out of it to even listen.

You both panted heavily as you laid on top of each other when you started coming down from the high. Bucky scooped you up in his arms as he settled back on the chair with you in his lap. You were too tired to do anything, so you just curled up on Bucky’s chest.

“Was I good?” You didn’t know why, but your ears were aching for Bucky to praise you and tell you how good you were. Maybe you would analyse yourself some time later, but now you were going to bask in the warm of the avenger.

“You were the best, my sweet angel. My good girl.” You preened happily and kept on floating when you heard Bucky dote on you. His thick arms around you were making you feel protected and safe, and though it was still morning, you dozed off on Bucky’s chest.

Bucky kept pressing kisses to your forehead as he took his phone out of the pocket of his pants which were lying next to the chair. He gave a victorious smile when he saw that the phone had recorded everything filthy word that had been said during your passionate endeavour.

He had opened the recorder app while unzipping his pants because he wanted to share a little gift with one of his friends. God, he wished he was in the room with your husband to see his face when he heard everything that had just gone down. He hated that bastard for keeping you from him and now he was going to give him the surprise of his life.

He had his number saved from a long time back, it wasn’t as if anything in your life was private from Bucky. He didn’t stalk you like some deranged guy, he just made sure you were okay as this world couldn’t be trusted, and who knew this better than him. He was giddy when he sent the recording to your husband and checked the name again to be sure it was the right person,

Ransom Drysdale

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therainroguefanfiction · 3 years ago

Text

❧ Be Mine (Liang) Confession

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Valentine’s, Fluff, Comedy ☁

Word Count: 1,667 ☁

Pairing: Reader x Liang ☁

World: Anime, Nanbaka ☁

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

Hajime tapped your shoulder, an annoyed look marring his face. “I need your help,”

“Did cell thirteen escape again?”

“No, I need help checking mail for my building.”

“Oh, umm, sure thing.” You followed him to building thirteen’s office. Sorting mail was an easy task, so why in the world did he feel the need to ask you for help? Maybe he was just stressed out lately and needed a break. You noticed a small stack of letters sitting neatly by Hajime’s desk. “These?”

“No,” He grabbed your shoulders and spun you around. “These,”

“Holy mother of…” Your eyes widened in shock at the sight that lay before you. A mountain of pink and red letters stood so tall that they were being squished against the ceiling. “I… I didn’t know building thirteen was so damn popular.” You grabbed a card from the pile, stepping back as it caused a small landslide of paper.

“It’s not building thirteen, it’s cell thirteen.” Hajime pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Mostly for inmate eleven.”

“…EH?!” All of this mail for one cell? You’d never heard of something so crazy.

A hand shot out from the pile, grabbing your ankle. You stepped back in surprise, pulling the arm with you. Seitarou’s head popped out of the pile, taking in a big gulp of air. “Th-Thank you! You saved me!” He cried, clutching tightly onto your leg. “I thought I was going to die!”

You sweatdropped, patting his head awkwardly.

“Let’s get to work!” Hajime ordered. “We have to check every single letter!”

This was so not how you planned to spend your Tuesday night, but that’s exactly how it went. Even with the effort of three people, it still took almost eight hours to finish going through all of them for contraband. It was exactly five-thirty in the morning when Seitarou set down the final letter, letting out a relieved sigh.

Hajime sat two separate stacks on the coffee table before leaning back on the couch. “These were mixed in with our pile,”

Pile was hardly the right word to use.

“One stack goes to building five, the other goes to building three.”

You heaved a tired sigh. “I’ll take five,”

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

The prison was almost completely silent. The sun hadn’t risen yet, so most of the inmates were still sleeping while the guards were taking it easy. As you made your way past building five’s courtyard, you noticed Liang training. He was being watched over by Rokuriki. Well, technically, the guard in question had fallen asleep. You couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous.

You paused to watch Liang train. Did that boy ever rest? It seemed like every time you saw him he was busy training. It was kind of endearing how hard he was working given his situation.

Feeling your stare, his magenta eyes locked onto your own. Jogging over to you, he glanced over at Rokuriki. “I can wake him up if you need…”

“Nah, he looks pretty exhausted. Let him rest, but make sure you wake him up if you see Gokuu coming.”

“You look quite tired, as well.” Liang mused, resting the back of his hand against your cheek.

“Ah,” you rubbed the back of your head. “I was up all night helping Hajime check Valentine cards. I had no idea that Uno was so popular, my god.”

“Did he really get that many?”

“It was a literal mountain.” You laughed. “It reached the ceiling!”

He smiled automatically when your laugh reached his ears. “What brings you over here?”

“Oh right,” you held up the stack of letters. “These got mixed in with the ones delivered to our office.”

“If you’re willing to trust me… I can make sure the guards get them.”

You smiled. “That’d be great! I really need a nap…”

“I’m happy to help.” He smiled softly, pecking your cheek. “Sleep well… Y/N.”

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

A yawn passed your lips as you lay on the couch in building thirteen’s office. Hajime was off to a meeting for the supervisors and Seitarou was making his rounds, so the office was silent. You had almost drifted off to sleep when the door slammed open, making you fall off the couch in surprise.

“Are you okay?” A familiar voice filled with concern reached your ears.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you noticed Liang kneeling next to you and Gokuu standing in the doorway. “I’m fine, no worries. What can I do for you both?”

Gokuu folded his arms over his chest. “Liang said he has something important to talk to you about. Bring him back to building five when you’re done – I have a meeting to get to.”

Liang waited until Gokuu was gone before addressing you. “I apologize, I should have waited for you to get some rest.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You patted his shoulder, situating yourself back onto the couch. “What did you need to talk about?”

His cheeks darkened and he averted his gaze. “Today is Valentine’s day…”

You shifted so that your back was against the couch, legs stretched out in front of you. “It is, but after dealing with Uno’s fanmail, I’d be happy to never see another pink or red envelope again.”

“Did you receive anything?”

“Aside from Uno’s pickup line, no.”

“Pickup line?”

You hummed, letting your head fall back onto the cushion. “It’s an everyday occurrence, so it’s nothing special.”

“I see…”

“What about you, Liang? Any love letters, hmm?” You grinned, poking his cheek. “I bet you’re popular with the ladies, as well.”

“Why would you think that?” He flushed.

“Because you’re gorgeous,” you murmured softly, gently tugging on his earring.

His cheeks darkened until they matched the shade of his outfit.

Realizing what you had said, you quickly pulled away and straightened yourself out. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It was out of line.”

Liang took a deep breath to steel his nerves. “If that’s the case, then I must apologize in advance. I came here to confess my feelings to you. I’ve been in love with you for a while now. I treasure every moment spent with you and I hate that you work in building thirteen. I wish you were part of building five so I could see your beautiful smile every day.”

You were surprised. “So the rumors were true, then.”

“Rumors? What rumors?”

“Rock told me that Qi told him that you like me. I guess there’s not much else for the prisoners to do but gossip.” You chuckled, turning your body to face him. “I have to admit, I’m surprised it’s true though.”

“Damn him,” Liang muttered, eyes narrowing at the ground.

You reached out, gently holding his cheeks between your palms. “It’s a good thing he did it. It gave me hope that you felt the same.”

Before he could respond, you pulled him forward and claimed his lips as your own. His slender fingers wrapped around your wrist as he pushed himself closer to you. A few minutes passed before he broke the kiss, unable to control the bright smile that spread across his face.

“I wish this moment could last forever…”

“Nonsense. There will be many more moments to come, Liang. Don’t fixate on just one.” You returned his smile, resting your forehead against his.

As your fingers intertwined, you knew this was the start of something special.

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

Gokuu rounded up the prisoners and guards of building five. It was sudden, without warning, and had everyone on their guard. Meetings among the guards were a normal occurrence, but they rarely ever included the inmates. His eyes scanned the rec room to ensure that everyone had assembled. Once he was satisfied with the numbers, he cleared his throat and folded his arms behind his back to make himself look as official as possible. “We have a new guard joining building five today,”

“A new guard?” Kokoriki put his hand on his hip and scowled. “Do they think we can’t handle ourselves?”

“This is a prison full of sneaky and conniving inmates. There’s never enough guards around.” Gokuu stepped to the side. “This is Y/N, formerly a guard for building thirteen.”

Everyone was left speechless. They all knew you quite well since you visited many times in the past and they were confused as to why you suddenly decided to transfer.

“Why did you decide to transfer?” Rokuriki asked with concern, voicing what everyone was thinking. “Did something happen?”

“Ah, well…” you rubbed the back of your head. “Thirteen is quite hectic. There’s never a moment of peace to let you stop and catch your breath. Too much excitement for my blood.” You caught Liang’s gaze and winked at him.

The shock and surprise disappeared from his face, replaced by a beautiful and radiant smile. He was ecstatic at the news.

It took you a while to dodge everyone welcoming you and asking you questions, but you managed it by hiding in a dead-end corridor off the main hallway. Crowds had never really been your forte – that’s why you asked to be assigned to thirteen in the first place. Sure, cell thirteen was a pain, but the rest of the inmates kept to themselves and there were only two guards you had to interact with. It was the perfect situation for you.

“Are you okay, love? You seem stressed.”

You whipped around, ready to put on the cheerful guard act when you realized who it was that was standing in front of you. Your body relaxed and you smiled softly. “I didn’t expect such a reception, is all.”

Liang smiled, resting his hands on your hips. “Everyone loves you,” his lips feathered over your own. “But none more than I.” You shared a long, chaste kiss that made your heart skip a beat. “I can’t believe you actually transferred for me.”

You chuckled, tugging at his collar. “You’re stuck with me now, Liang.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

If you enjoyed this fic, please take a moment to like and reblog! Thanks so much ^-^)/

Not gonna lie, I completely forgot I hadn’t posted this set and it should have been posted leading up to Valentine’s but oh well lol

#be mine #valentine's day #anime #nanbaka #liang #nanbaka liang #reader insert #anime x reader

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letmewanderinyourgarden2022 · 2 years ago

Text

Jimmy settled into his studio office after weeks away from London. Tower House always centered him. It was good to be home. He was expecting his assistant, Perry, with the correspondence that had accumulated in his absence. But he wasn’t due to arrive for another hour, so. . .

It’s been a while. . .

He sighed, dropping the paper he was reviewing and tossing his reading glasses on top. He strode down the hall to the studio proper. Settling into the sofa, he leaned back and closed his eyes. He hadn’t touched an instrument of any sort during his absence and it was time. He was hoping for some inspiration.

Just get to it, old man. It’ll come.

With that, he stood, hesitantly examining the guitars arrayed on the stands around the room. A minute passed, then another, but there really was no decision. He grabbed the Harmony acoustic by the neck and settled back on the sofa, playing through a few chord progressions.

Not bad, considering. Just a few tweaks.

After the guitar was tuned to his liking, he noodled around for a bit. He found himself in the midst of Swan Song, his favorite piece to use as a jumping off point. He delicately strummed and picked through the beginning. . .Bird on the Wing. Eyes shut, he smiled and rocked with the effort. Moving into his zone, he was off on a musical tangent. . .one that he liked.

That’s pretty good.

Reaching over to the table next to him, he turned on the small tape recorder and picked up where he left off, traveling through the landscape of a new song, slow and bluesy. He ended with a final strum, turned off the recorder, and reclined into the sofa.

Good. . .good. . .good. Come back to that one tomorrow.

After a bit, he returned the guitar to its stand and resumed his reading in the office, awaiting his assistant's arrival. Eventually, footsteps echoed in the hallway. The doorknob rattled but the door did not open. He looked up to see the tall, shaggy blonde through the glass, arms full, fumbling with the knob. Jimmy jumped up to come to his friend’s rescue.

“Perry! Wait – let me get the door! How are you, man? Is that all for me?”

He deposited the brimming folders on the desk and dropped into a nearby chair. “I’m quite good, Jim. Thanks. And yes, all for you.”

Jimmy sat down behind the desk and peered over his reading glasses. “Alright, can you give me a brief synopsis of what awaits me?”

“Of course. Let’s see. . .there are contact sheets of photos for the book; there’s a letter from the Met – I already mentioned that to you in our call; uhm. . .interview copy from two of the guitar magazines that needs your approval, some Albion items and, uh, some possible new projects. You’ll sort it all out. Oh. . .yeah, there’s an interesting piece of fan mail that came to the Albion address. A determined fan, I’d say. It went through the normal screening process. I looked it over to make sure it wasn’t too dodgy. I think you might find it interesting. It’s in the stack in a Federal Express folder.”

“At Albion, really!” Jimmy chuckled. “Okay, I’ll give it a once over.”

The men chatted for some time, catching up. Then, Perry was off. Jimmy leaned back eyeing the stacks on the desk.

Definitely not tonight. I’ll get at it in the morning.

He closed up the office and the studio, retiring to his music room. With Otis spinning on the turntable, he stretched out on the sofa, welcoming the blues to ease away the day.

Jimmy arrived at the studio office at a reasonable time the next day. He organized the stack of papers according to his mood that morning – “now, later, much later.” In the process, he came across the mailer from the fan. He held it, pondering where it belonged, finally putting it off to the side.

No, I’ll save that for another time.

Since returning to London, Jimmy’s social and business engagements started to fall in line. He’d reviewed the urgent paperwork Perry had delivered to him, but the “later” and “much later” fell by the wayside. The fan letter had become just another item in the “much later” pile and by the time he rediscovered it, two more months had passed.

I had forgotten all about this. Well, let’s see what it is, then.

He opened the mailer, discovering a colorful envelope in what he recognized as an arts and crafts design, sealed with a wax stamp.

Hmmm. I wonder if that is intentional. . .And a dragon seal! Ha!

The seal had apparently been reattached by Perry. Jimmy carefully lifted it, revealing the letter inside.

My, that’s rather lovely.

The paper before him was framed in black with a gold vine and flowers winding through the page. They were studded with ruby red. The image of a dragon with scales and tendrils slithered through the lower corner. He smiled.

The Rose Jacket – wow. And the Dragon suit. Very clever.

As he glanced at the text, his smile broadened. The lettering of the disclaimer at the beginning was familiar. So was the calligraphy in the main part.

Ha! Kashmir font. . .Not too bad. And an obvious take on the Stairway lettering. Hmmm. Interesting.

As he glanced at the opening of the letter, he chuckled again.

Cheeky! Perry will be known as “The Scanner” henceforth.

He quickly read the words, without taking in their meaning, searching for the “want” in the letter. He found it – a meeting request. He put the sheet back in the envelope and tossed it to the side.

Well, it is very different but certainly not going to happen.

He returned his attention to the “much later” stack. After a few hours, he was done for the day. Closing up the office, he started down the hall toward the stairs to the residence’s first floor. For some reason that he couldn’t discern, he turned back, reopened the office, and grabbed the letter from the desk. As he retraced his steps to the staircase, he detected a delicious aroma wafting in the air. His housekeeper, Gwyn, had prepared the evening meal for him and left it warming on the stove in the basement kitchen. He stopped in to check on the source finding a veg stew and a note on the counter directing him to bread in the oven and salad in the fridge. He plated his supper and put it into the dumbwaiter to be retrieved on the next floor. After climbing the stairs, he dropped the envelope on one of the tables in the library and crossed through the hall to the next room to collect his meal from the lift.

Maybe here in the dining room tonight. . .

Placing the supper at “his” spot on the round table adorned with images of the zodiac, he sprawled in the dining chair, contemplating the letter. His eyes were drawn to the bank of stained-glass windows on the far side of the room, faintly lit by the receding sunlight. His gaze lingered there until he pushed himself up, quickly strode back to the library, retrieved the item of his concern, and returned. He placed it in front of him just beyond his plates, focusing on it off and on as he dined.

What is it with this damned letter? It was done with great sentiment; that is plain, but so what? I can appreciate that and move on. Why am I not doing it?

Having finished his meal, Jimmy settled the plates in the dumbwaiter and sent it back to the basement. He returned to the table, leaning back in his chair; his hand swirling the glass of red wine from dinner. He savored a sip of the earthy Rioja. Placing the goblet off to the side, he drew the envelope closer. He gently lifted the seal and pulled out the letter. He read it carefully; his hands resting on either side of the paper.

A bit over the top, perhaps. The NDA offer is unusual but. . . appealing. A psychiatrist's letter, though – that’s a first! Yes, it is appealing. . .BUT I am not considering this.

Even as he attempted to discount the notion, he was drawn back to the text. He could almost hear the person – this Jane – speaking the words to him.

That’s. . .curious.

He reached for the glass and took a long sip. His fingertips ran down the length of the page, brushing across the bumps and imperfections in the paper.

Seems to be vintage paper. Very nice.

His hands again stilled at the page’s edges; the perception of her voice returned. A palpable warmth pulsed faintly from the fibers. He pulled his fingers quickly away, only to re-initiate the contact. He felt something genuine, something confident coming through to him - and something vaguely familiar.

How odd. . .Fuck!

A possible explanation hit him like lightning. He brusquely pushed the letter away and sat back in his chair.

Is there a fucking spell on this thing? What did she write? . . . “Means of divination”. . .what the bloody hell is that? . . .But. . .it doesn't feel the least bit threatening. On the contrary, there is something positively intriguing about it. Who the fuck is this woman?

Jimmy topped off the glass of wine, collected the letter, and gravitated to the library. He placed both on the table by the hearth and stoked the fire into a blaze. Grabbing a Baudelaire collection from the shelf, he plopped onto the chair and started to read. Soon after, the radiating heat and the long day caught up with him. As the book slid to his chest, he closed his eyes, surrendering to sleep. He dreamed.

A white bird soared in flight, sparkling silver in the sunlight. It landed on the sill of the open window where he stood. He reached out and the cooing bird hopped onto his extended finger. He carefully brought the visitor inside. He lightly stroked the smooth feathers of the creature. . .

He woke abruptly. Still in the throes of the dream, he sat forward and placed the book on the table, staring into the fire as it died down into glowing coals.

This is something. . .I don’t know quite what. I must find out more about this woman and why she wrote to me. I’ll speak to Perry in the morning.

When he made his way to the office, the first order of business for the day was to place a call to Perry asking him to come in the afternoon to pick up documents. Always punctual, he arrived at the appointed time.

“Well, if it isn’t ‘The Scanner’,” Jimmy quipped. “It’s my new name for you, you know.”

“Ah, ha! You've finally read it! Well?”

“I really don’t know. But can you find out more about ‘Lady Jane’ without crossing any lines?”

“Yeah, Jim, I can.”

“OK, Perry. Please do that. I’d say it’s a bit more than a mild priority.”

“I’ll get to it right away. It will probably take a fortnight to get any results.”

“Right. Just give me what you’ve got as you get it, yeah?”

“Will do, Jim.”

After his assistant left to get about his sleuthing, Jimmy was drawn to the studio and the unfinished song. Perched on the edge of the sofa with the Harmony, he turned on the recorder. As he played, a sharp pang rippled through in his chest, like an ache of something lost. He took the ache as far as he could in the music and stopped, snapping off the recorder.

Fucking HELL! What is going on?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter List - https://at.tumblr.com/letmewanderinyourgarden2022/chapter-list-let-me-wander-in-your-garden/4e7uiy09j14o

Otis Rush – Lost Blues https://youtu.be/HRmV4uB348s

Swan Song https://youtu.be/LnNIcUVmk-E

The Letter:

@firethatgrewsolow @foreverandadaydarling @laluxea @lzep @sassybouquetrunaway-universe @jimmysdragonsuit13 @jenyj89

#jimmy page fan fiction 2022 #jimmy page #zoso #jimmy page fanfiction #silver fox jimmy #old man jimmy #led zeppelin fanfic #let me wander in your garden-chapter two #lmwing 22 #let me wander in your garden 2022 #youtube

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spacexcowgirl · 4 years ago

Text

All About The Chase - F.W.

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Y/N will do anything for her best friend—and crush—Fred Weasley. Even if that means fake dating him so he can catch the eye of her cousin.

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: Light swearing, one allusion to sex (blink and you’ll miss it), brief mention of intoxication (again, blink and you’ll miss it), super mean awful cousin, food, a little angsty with a happy ending,

A/N: For the anon who asked for Fred fake dating his friend to make her relative jealous! I decided to make her the twins age, and I may have went a little overboard with the cousin rivalry, but oh well. Thank you for feeding into my love of cliches! Also, I played around with using third person rather than second, it just felt right for this one. Pictures are from Pinterest.

message to be added to tags :)

When Y/N was six years old, her parents—well, Santa—got her the most amazing art set. She had always liked to draw, and now she had an array of more colors than she could even really name. When her family was set to head to her Aunt’s house for Christmas dinner, she packed up all of her new markers, a stack of fresh paper, and a few of her drawings she was most proud of to show off.

The night had started wonderfully. She got a few more gifts from her grandparents, a beautiful doll from her aunt and uncle, and enough sweets and candy to last her months. When it was time to finally eat, Y/N left all of her new toys and her cherished art set in her relatives’ living room. Y/N doesn’t remember much about the dinner—why should she? It was a decade prior—but what she does remember vividly is the excitement that bubbled up in her tiny body when her mother suggested she go grab some of her artwork to show off.

Y/N slid out of her chair and raced into the living room. Only when she got there did she find all of her finished art completely destroyed, covered in scribbles from her new markers. Her brows had furrowed and her eyes welled with tears, and that’s when she heard it. The sinister little cackle of her cousin, Annalise. Y/N turned on her heels and saw the girl, uncapped marker in hand, looking at her as if she was the most pitiful thing in the world.

Y/N returned to dinner empty handed, claiming she had forgotten the drawings at home—even though her parents were certain she hadn’t. Annalise returned with an innocent smile and a portrait of their Nan in hand—one Y/N was certain she just made with her markers—and all of the adults cooed and awed at the small girl’s talent.

A few years later, Y/N was set to star in their primary school’s theater production. Looking back, she now recognized that her landing that part had little to do with any real talents she had, and more to do with how adults always seemed to fawn over her. She was always revered as ‘just the cutest little thing!’ Which evidently preceded talent at the ripe age of eight.

Right before she was set to go on stage and deliver her three lines (that’s all a star can really handle so young, right?), she found her angel wings shredded and her halo headband bent in half. The teacher didn’t have any time to fix her costume, so in a fluster she threw out her part all together, and sent Y/N to stand with the rest of the year 3 ensemble. It didn’t take long for Y/N to catch Annalise’s eye amongst the other students, only she was smirking. Y/N had to force her eyes back out onto the crowd and desperately search for her parents to keep herself from bawling on the spot.

As if things couldn’t get any worse between the pair of cousins, when Y/N was ten, her and her parents were astonished to find a letter tucked into their usual mail, accepting her into the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The letter gave an answer to the many strange things Y/N had been able to make happen with her emotions alone, and her chest swelled with pride to learn just how special she truly was. Not to mention, this was finally her opportunity to escape Annalise once and for all.

Until, it wasn’t. Y/N didn’t know that Annalise was a witch as well until the two families spotted each other on the platform, preparing to send both of their daughters off. Neither parents had revealed the truths of their daughters abilities to the other prior, because they knew it must be kept with the upmost secrecy. Y/N’s parents and Annalise’s parents were overjoyed to know their little girls wouldn’t be all alone, and they had someone to share their apprehensions with. Y/N and Annalise were far less enthused by the news.

A little over five years later, Y/N sat in the Gryffindor Common room, rifling through beginning of the year work that had already been assigned. In the half-decade since she’d started at Hogwarts, she had managed to avoid Annalise as best she could. It turned out to be somewhat easy, seeing as they were sorted into different house. Still, whenever Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were forced into classes together, Y/N couldn’t help but feel dread pooling in her stomach. Annalise was always sure to make those classes a living hell for her.

Y/N’s attention was pulled from her work from the sound of a small group of people bounding into the common room. She glanced back over the couch, only to see her best friends—Fred and George—laughing and pushing each other around.

“She totally wants me!” Fred argued, a cocky grin alit on his face.

“Oh, please, she hates your guts, mate.” George teased back.

Fred looked as if he were about to respond, until his eyes met Y/N’s across the room. A more genuine smile found its way onto his face as he tugged his brother towards the couch, then plopped down next to her. George then took a seat in one of the chairs across from them. Y/N neatly gathered her work into a pile, knowing for certain there was no way she would make any progress with them around.

“Y/N, will you please tell my dear brother that your cousin is absolutely mad for me, she just has a different way of showing it?” Fred threw his arm lazily around the back of the couch, right behind her, as he looked at her expectantly.

Y/N couldn’t help the sour mood that the conversation immediately put her in. There was two reasons for this; one, the most obvious, any topic that involved Annalise always brought her down. She couldn’t help it, and she tried not to hate the girl, but everything about her was draining. The second reason was that Y/N was absolutely head over heels for Fred. She had been ever since he pranked Graham Montague for making her cry in third year. The idea of Fred and Annalise together was truly the epitome of her worst nightmare.

“I don’t know, she might really just hate you.” Y/N shrugged, doing her best to keep her voice even and her face straight. Her words caused Fred to scowl and George to erupt into fits of laughter.

“Oh come on, not you too!” Fred whined as he threw his head back.

“What do you even see in her anyways?” Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to the question, but she couldn’t help but ask it.

“Well, she’s quite fit.” This answer earned a swift slap to the arm from Y/N, which only made Fred snicker. “And!” He continued, persistent to point out that looks weren’t all he cared about. “She’s feisty, and smart. And, she acts completely not interested in me.”

“So that’s why you like her?” Y/N snorted.

“Ah, dearest Y/N, one day you’ll learn that it’s all about the chase.” Fred began to twiddle some of her hair between his fingers.

“There’s plenty of girls who aren’t interested in you! You could ‘chase’ any of them.” Y/N reasoned, batting his hand away.

“You’ve got that right.” George snorted, causing his brother to shoot him a glare.

“Well, even if that were true, I’ve got my sights set on her.” Fred shrugged.

“Well, if you really want Annalise to go out with you, you should just date me.” Y/N teased as she sat forward, beginning to pluck through her papers once again. When no one laughed or responded, she quickly shot her eyes up. “I’m only kidding.”

“No, no that could work.” Fred sat up abruptly and pointed a finger towards her. “Y/N, you’re a genius!”

“I’m really not.” Y/N shook her head quickly. “That might breach the list of dumbest things I’ve ever said.”

“Yeah, right, don’t forget we’ve been around you drunk, Y/L/N. That doesn’t even make the top ten.” George grinned at her, but her nerves kept her from even smiling at his little joke.

Y/N was growing desperate now, because neither of the twins were brushing off her silly joke. Fred was looking at her as if she just handed him the key to solve all of his problems, and George was doing nothing to tame his brother. Y/N glanced expectantly between the two of them as she drew her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Come on, what better way to make her jealous than to see me dating her cousin?”

Y/N had mentioned on occasion the way that Annalise always had to ruin everything for her as a child, but never in full detail. Some part of her knew if she had just been transparent about how truly awful the girl had treated her, Fred would never give Annalise a second glance. But now, he thought they were nothing more than cousins with a small childhood rivalry, and for that he could justify going after her.

“Please, Y/N,” Fred got down on his knees in front of her, dawning his best puppy dog eyes, and put his hands in a pleading gesture. “Be my fake girlfriend for a month—two, tops.”

Y/N chewed harder on her bottom lip as she gazed at him, already feeling her reluctance slipping away. She could never say no to him, especially when he looked so adorable. Y/n breathed out a sigh and dropped her head to look at her folded hands in her lap. All thoughts of self preservation and protecting her heart went out the door; she knew she would say yes to him.

“Fine.” Her voice was quiet, so much so that it took Fred a second to make sure he had heard her properly.

“Really? Just like that? I was about to start bribing you with sugar quills and a month of Herbology homework—”

“Well, if you’re offering—”

“Nope, too late. You agreed before I had to.” Fred grinned at the girl before swooping in and placing a kiss on her cheek. “Now, let’s set up some ground rules.”

Fred began to drone on about what they would and wouldn’t do. Things like holding hands in the corridors, sitting close at meals, kisses on the cheeks and forehead. Which pet names they would and wouldn’t use. Number one, though, was no kissing on the lips.

Y/N only listened halfheartedly as Fred rambled on, offering a slight head nod ever now and then to show she was in agreement. As Y/N thought over just what she had gotten herself into, she realized the next few weeks were going to be awful.

It didn’t take long for rumors of Fred and Y/N’s budding romance to swirl. She often found herself walking hand in hand with him through the corridors, light whispers trailing behind them. Often times, people she had hardly ever spoken to would come up to her and gush about how they always just knew Fred and her would be perfect together. Y/N would always politely smile, then wonder if they could hear her heartbreaking as loudly as she could.

To make matters worse, Fred was the perfect ‘boyfriend.’ Just as she always assumed he would be. He’d carry her books in one arm, swing their intertwined hands with the other, and walk her to each of her classes. At night, he’d sit with her in the library while she poured over her notes for the day—even though she knew he wanted nothing more than to be out pranking with George and Lee. She adored all of the extra time they were getting to spend together, until she’d remember that it was only temporary, and if he were lucky, he’d be doing all of these things with Annalise in a month.

It wasn’t until about three weeks into their agreement that Annalise approached her. Fred had walked her to potions that day, like he always did. He was making her laugh loudly, not caring at all about the many eyes upon them.

“It’s a wonder your mum didn’t ship you and George off when you were toddlers,” Y/n snorted. “It sounds like you two were menaces.”

“Oh, we were.” Fred nodded, a small grin on his face. “But I reckon we were the cutest babies she had so far, so she kept us around.”

Y/N snorted and rolled her eyes before nudging him lightly with her shoulder. They had finally made it to the potions classroom, so it was time for them to part. Fred handed her back her books and dropped her hand, but didn’t walk away until he had placed a soft kiss to her temple.

“Meet you outside of here after to walk to lunch?” He confirmed, but there was no need. It was the routine they had fallen into.

“Mhm.” Y/N gazed up at him, unable to contain the giddy smile on her lips. With that, he turned and began walking down the hallway, but not before shooting her a wink over his shoulder.

Y/N watched his retreating figure, a lovesick grin plastered to her face. Just when she had pulled herself from her daydreams and was about to enter the classroom, she ran hard into a firmly planted body.

“So, you and Weasley are pretty serious then, huh?” Annalise stood with her hands on her hips, a look that read as both disgust and amusement riddled on her face.

“Yeah, you could say that.” Y/N quickly recovered, hugging her books closer to her chest. This year, she had more classes with Annalise than any year prior, seeing as they both received a significant amount of O.W.L.s.

“Hm.” Annalise’s eyes trailed down the hallway where Fred had once been, before letting them snap back to Y/N. “Don’t know how you managed that.”

Y/N felt her blood run cold, but couldn’t find the energy within her to talk any further. So, she simply brushed past Annalise and into the classroom, ignoring the scoff that left Annalise’s lips when she pushed her out of the way. Y/N found her usual seat in the back and trained her eyes ahead, careful to keep her expression calm. That was, until Annalise slid into the seat next to her.

“What are you doing?” Y/N gaped at her. It wasn’t like they had assigned seats, but Y/N had always sat next to Patricia Stimpson. The girl was constantly fussing and nervous, always afraid to make a wrong move, but she certainly wasn’t the worst person Y/N could be stuck with.

“Asked Stimpson to trade seats.” Annalise shrugged nonchalantly, before a wicked grin grew on her face. “Figured we could get some good, cousin, bonding time.”

Y/N wanted to groan, but then Snape was gliding into the room and silencing everyone. She was certain this would be the longest lecture of her life.

When the class ended, Y/N didn’t wait for Fred outside. Instead, she had pushed up from her seat and hurried through the corridors, skipping lunch entirely to go wallow in her dorm room. Annalise had made the lecture a living hell, whether it be from snide comments she’d whisper over or by purposefully ruining their potion, then blaming it on Y/N. Internally, she cursed Fred—although it wasn’t really his fault—for putting her in the position to be in Annalise’s line of fire once again.

Y/N ended up avoiding Fred the rest of the day, scurrying between classes before he could find her. When she was finally done for the day, she wanted nothing more than to hide out in her dorm and cry. That’s exactly what she had started doing, too, before her door creeped open.

Y/N held her breath, assuming it was either Angelina or Alicia coming back before dinner. But, when her mattress dipped slightly from the weight of someone sitting down, she quickly spun around, coming face to face with Fred.

“Darling,” He cooed. It was a nickname he had taken to calling her ever since they started ‘dating,’ although no one was around now, and he was still using it. “What’s wrong? Have you been crying?”

“How’d you get in here?” Y/N croaked, avoiding his question entirely.

“Figured out how to get past the charm ages ago.” Fred rested a gentle hand on her knee. “Then, Ang gave me her key. Said she saw you run up her. So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong? And why’ve you been avoiding me all day?”

At that, Y/N lost it once again. Tears began streaming down her face freely, and she quickly sat up and accepted Fred’s opened arms. He raked his fingers through her messy hair and let her cry on his shoulder, gently soothing her to a place where she’d be able to speak.

“It’s just…” It was on the tip of her tongue. Y/N wanted desperately to tell him the truth about how awful Annalise truly was. But, just like when she was younger and never ratted Annalise out, she just couldn’t now. She didn’t know why it was, but it always felt like if she spoke the words out loud, then Annalise had won. “I’ve just had an awful day.”

“Snape will do that to you.” Fred tutted, clearly assuming her change in behavior post-potions was brought on by the professor. “I’m sorry, love.”

Y/N sniffled a few more times into his shoulder, wishing desperately that he was holding her in a way that wasn’t platonic. She craved nothing more than for him to want her like she’d always wanted him. But that seemed to be just a fantasy. The muggle fairytales she had been told growing up weren’t real, and the wicked witch was winning.

“Why don’t we go for a walk, get some fresh air?” Fred pulled back to look over her face, concern filled in his eyes.

“But, you’re missing dinner…”

“Eh, the house elves love me. I’ll just sneak down to the kitchens and grab something later.” Fred shrugged, a small smile now growing on his face. “You and me, we can make a whole night of it. I’ll sneak some snacks up and we can watch one of those old muggle movies you love so much.”

While Y/N was far from being completely okay, the tenderness he was exhibiting towards her made her heart swell. She knew he had plans with George and Lee that night, some big prank on a few Slytherins, but here he was, throwing it all away for her. He gently reached out and cupped her cheek, brushing a few stray tears away with his thumb. Y/N avoided his eyes, afraid that they would communicate all of the non-platonic love she felt for him, then nodded.

“Perfect.” Fred grinned before jumping up and extended his hand out to her. “Well, let’s go.”

Fred guided her the whole way out of the castle, keeping her close as they walked through the grounds. The autumn air was cool, and at the very second that Y/N shivered, Fred was wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side.

They walked around and talked for a little over an hour, giddy smiles on their faces all the while. Fred made her laugh so hard she abandoned all thoughts of Annalise, her mind completely filled with the tall red head beside her. He just had this way about him that could make anything that was possibly wrong seem miniscule. He reminded her of everything good in the world.

Once the sun was fully down and the temperature had dropped significantly, the two could no longer justify being outside in the cold. Fred made a show of wrapping her hands in his own, rubbing them together to bring her some warmth, before guiding her back to the castle.

They parted ways shortly, just so Fred could sneak into the kitchens and Y/N could get the movie set up in the common room. She laid out a few blankets and pillows then pushed the couch back a bit, thankful that it was a Wednesday night and most students seemed to have already gone to bed. When Fred returned, he handed Y/N a plate of food then sat down cross-legged beside her, balancing his own plate in his lap.

Y/N started the movie and dug into her food, giggling lightly at Fred’s ravenous way of eating. He had certainly been hungry earlier, but she needed him, so evidently he pushed his hunger aside. When their plates were finished, they stacked them neatly on the table behind them, before completely turning their attention to the movie.

“Okay, wait, who’s the green girl again?” Fred questioned as he pointed towards the screen, brows furrowed.

“If you would pay attention, you would know.” Y/N giggled. “She’s the Wicked Witch of The West.”

“She’s supposed to be a witch?” Fred crinkled up his nose, confusion clear on his face. “I don’t know any green witches.”

“It’s a muggle movie, Fred.” Y/N lightly rolled her eyes.

“And who’s she?”

“Glinda, the good witch.”

“Okay, I definitely know witches don’t dress like that.” Fred teased, eyeing the woman on the screen’s frilly pink dress

“Maybe I should start.” Y/N giggled, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Think I could pull it off?”

“Darling, you’d look beautiful in anything.” Fred winked at her, causing her face to heat up. Some part of her knew it was nothing more than harmless joking, but she couldn’t help the way he lit something alive within her.

“Ya think?” Y/N scooted a bit closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder so he couldn’t see her giddy smile.

“I know.” His voice was soft, and the two of them remained quiet for the next few scenes of the movie.

At some point, the two of them had shifted to lay down in order to get more comfortable on the floor. Fred was laying on his back with one hand behind his head, the other resting idly in between them. Y/N was sprawled out on her stomach, her face down by his feet. Every little bit her eyes would light up and she’d glance back to tell him that her favorite part was coming up, only for him to realize that every part seemed to be her favorite part. Still, he never pointed that out, but instead just smiled fondly at her and nodded.

“Ugh.” Y/N grimaced, a slight shiver running down her spine. “Those monkeys always terrified me when I was little.”

“Oh yeah?” Fred sat up now, leaning closer to her. “You scared now?”

“Psh, no.” Y/N rolled her eyes and glanced back over at him, only to find him slowly inching towards her. She pointed a finger out warningly. “Fred, don’t.”

It was no use, Fred’s hands latched themselves to her sides and began tickling her feverishly. Y/N squealed and tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but it was no use. In the process, she had flipped over onto her back and was now kicking her legs out, trying to get him to stop, but that only egged him on further.

“You sure you’re not scared, Y/L/N?” Fred teased. “I could comfort you, if you were.”

“Freddie! Stop!” Y/N breathed out, tears beginning to pool in her eyes from her laughter.

Y/N now had the front of his jumper balled in her fists, trying desperately to get him to stop. After another minute, he did, and her wriggling ceased. Still, he loomed over top of her while she gripped onto his jumper tightly. Both of them were silent as they stared into each other’s eyes, faces only inches apart. For half a second, Y/N swore she saw Fred’s eyes flicker down to her lips, but then she convinced herself she must have dreamed it.

The sounds of the movie seemed to draw them back to the present, and Y/N let go of Fred’s jumper, causing him to sit up. She followed suit, clearing her throat in hopes of easing the tension between them. Fred was never one to let any awkwardness linger, so he nudged her with his elbow before laying back down in the spot he had been before.

“Cuddle up, Y/N. I’ll keep you safe from the big scary winged monkeys.” He winked as he opened his arms for her.

Y/N rolled her eyes lightly, trying desperately to calm the nerves in her stomach, before obliging and cuddling into his side. She let her head rest on his chest, her hand placed just over his heart, as he tightened his arm around her. Y/N found that she couldn’t pay attention to the rest of the movie, what with Fred pulling a blanket up around them and gently stroking her hair. She was lulled to sleep by the action, finding that she wished every night, she could fall asleep in his arms.

The two were startled awake the next morning by a bout of loud laughter. As Y/N quickly sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she spotted George, fully dressed in his school uniform, gazing down at them with an amused grin. Fred groaned from where he still laid on the floor, pulling a pillow over his face to block out the light.

“And what’s this?” George cocked his head to the side. “You guys are really taking this ‘fake dating’ thing pretty seriously. Honestly, you’ve got me convinced.”

Fred shot up quickly at that, nervously looking around the common room to make sure no one heard. When he realized it was only the three of them, he let out a breath of relief.

“Come off it, will you? We just fell asleep after watching a movie.” Fred shot his brother a glare.

Y/N felt sick at the reminder that everything between them was fake. Every little moment she had foolishly convinced herself could mean something more was nothing but wishful thinking. Drawing in a deep sigh, Y/N forced herself up and gestured for Fred to move with a flick of her wand. Once he obliged, she flicked her wand again and gathered all of the blankets and pillows before pushing the couch back. Without another word, she stalked back up the steps to her dorm, and prepared herself for another long day.

When Y/N arrived to the potions classroom, her stomach dropped at the sight of Annalise once again in the seat next to her usual one. She gazed around the room, grumbling slightly when she realized she had no other choice but to sit next to the girl.

“Wow, you look like hell.” Annalise sneered when she trudged over.

“Probably because I was up all night with Fred.” Y/N shot back, before truly registering her words. “Not… Not like that.”

Annalise snorted at the insinuation and rolled her eyes. It seemed she was about to say something, no doubt some snide comment, but was cut off by Snape walking into the room. Y/N straightened up and began to listen to the professor drone on, her stomach twisting in knots when she realized what that day’s lecture would entail. A cauldron sat at the front of the classroom, an alluring steam rising off of it. Y/N knew, it was Amortentia.

After giving a brief lecture on it, Snape used his wand to lift the cauldron in the air, slowly letting it stop by each desk for the students to gaze at. He appeared completely uninterested by the kids’ excitement from what they smelled. Finally, it arrived at Y/N and Annalise’s table.

Y/N leaned forward and took a breath in, her nose being filled with the scent of fireworks, chocolate, and the shampoo Fred used. She sat back in her seat and crossed her arms, not needing the reminder that she felt so deeply for someone who didn’t return her affections.

Annalise leaned forward and breathed in a deep breath, a dreamy smile gracing her face. Her eyes flickered towards the front of the classroom, finding Snape deep in conversation with another Ravenclaw student. Quickly, she pulled an empty glass bottle from her bag and dipped it into the cauldron, filling it entirely.

“What’re you doing?” Y/N hissed, sitting up abruptly.

“I’m gonna use it as perfume. So everyone smells what they’re attracted to on me, and wants to be around me.” Annalise shrugged, placing a cork on the bottle and sliding it back into her bag. Y/N knew she could get in loads of trouble for carrying such a dangerous and potent potion, yet she didn’t speak up to turn her in. “Professor Snape, we’re all done back here!”

And with that, Snape was whisking the cauldron away and carrying on with his lecture. Y/N watched Annalise out of the corner of her eye, certain she was up to something from the glint in her eye. Still, like always, she stayed silent.

A week later, all thoughts of Annalise’s odd behavior had completely left Y/N’s mind. She was so caught up in falling for Fred even more each day, she could hardly focus on anything else. The fact that he hadn’t brought up Annalise once since their movie night didn’t go unnoticed to her, and she found herself chasing the familiar hope that maybe he was starting to fall for her too.

“I’ve gotta catch up with Georgie and Lee—they’re still mad I ditched them last week.” Fred informed her as he finished his dinner. “Catch you later?”

She nodded, a bright smile lighting up her face when he swooped down and kissed her cheek before hurrying off. Y/N was so in a daze that she didn’t even notice someone slide in the seat beside her, occupying the space Fred was once in.

“Ah, so you two are still together, are you?” Annalise spoke up, making her presence known. She wore a devilish grin as she feigned a casual act, picking at her nails.

“Obviously.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“What a shame, I just hate to be the one to tell you this.” She sighed.

“Tell me what?” Y/N’s brows furrowed as she turned to look at Annalise full on.

“Well, I’ve been wearing my perfume, you see.” She craned her neck and circled her hand, gesturing for Y/N to lean in and take a whiff. The smell was undeniable, and as much as she hated being in the presence of her cousin, it kept her reeled in. “Smell Freddie, do you?”

“Why do you care?” Y/N gritted her teeth, hating the way his nickname sounded coming from her mouth.

“Because, he doesn’t smell you.” Annalise shrugged. “In fact, what was it he told me he smelled? Right, fresh ink, my peach shampoo, and… Oh, I can’t remember. It was so hard to pay attention while he was snogging me in that broom closet.”

Y/N instantly dropped the utensils in her hand, ignoring the way they clattered to the ground. The sound drew a few eyes towards them, and Annalise simply smirked at her cousin. Y/N could feel tears welling behind her eyes, but she was also angry. At Fred, for not just telling her that he had finally gotten what he wanted. And at Annalise, for always being so dead set on ruining everything for her.

“What did I ever do to you?” Y/N heard her voice crack, and she felt just as pathetic as Annalise wanted her to feel. When she spoke again, her tone increased significantly. “Why must you always ruin everything for me?”

Some part of her knew she shouldn’t be freaking out, because this had always been the plan. She knew Annalise could never let anything be hers, so she should simply take it in stride and move on. But she couldn’t. She had been so sure that Fred and her were starting to build something real, that she’d finally be with the boy she’d crushed on for years, and now all of that hope was shattered.

“I’m just being a good cousin.” Annalise slapped a hand to her chest, feigning some sort of dignity that she certainly didn’t have. “Really, he was bound to cheat on you at some point. I just made it happen sooner rather than later. You should be thanking me.”

Y/N reached for her wand and gripped it tightly in her fist, ready to point it at her and fire off whatever hex came to mind. In an instant, fear was in Annalise’s eyes and she was cowering back. Professor McGonagall was now rushing forward, shouting her surname and ordering her to stop. In response, Y/N lowered her wand and wiped at her eyes, forcing none of her tears to fall.

“You know what, you’re not even worth it.”

And with that, she was marching out of the Great Hall, ignoring any calls of her name.

When Y/N made it back to the common room, she found George, Lee, and Fred gathered around a small table in the corner. A few other students were littered throughout the room, as well. Y/N almost just stormed right up to her dorm, intent on never speaking to Fred again, but she was sick of always letting people treat her like rubbish. So, right as she made it to the base of the steps, she turned on her heels and marched to their table, causing all of their eyes to fall on her.

“Hello, love—”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” She shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Fred. “Godric, I know I agreed to help the two of you get together, but cheating on me? Leaving me embarrassed in front of the whole school? What is wrong with you?”

Lee and George glanced at each other with wide eyes before signally towards their steps and quietly sneaking away. This left Fred in open-mouthed shock, gaping at Y/N in all of her fury.

“I don’t know what—”

“And don’t even tell me how it wasn’t really cheating, because we weren’t really together, I know. But the rest of the school doesn’t know that! Annalise doesn’t know that! And now you’ve fed directly into her only wish of making my life utterly horrible.” Y/N fumed, although her hands were shaking slightly. “So, congrats Fred. You finally got the girl. And Annalise got what she wanted, too. Looks like you two are perfect for each other.”

After saying her piece, she quickly turned around and began making her way back towards her steps. She ignored the many sets of bewildered eyes on her, too angry and hurt to even care. She was only stopped by the feeling of Fred gripping onto her wrist and spinning her back around to face him.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Fred searched her eyes. “I didn’t cheat on you, fake or not.”

“But—”

“Annalise yanked me into a broom closet earlier, asking me to smell her neck like a bloody lunatic. So, I did, because I’m always enticed by strange offers.” He quipped with a smile, but when Y/N shot him a pointed look, he became serious once again. “Not the time? Right, okay. So, I smelled her, and I asked if she cornered me in there just to tell me she nicked your perfume, and she got all huffy, so I left. I didn’t cheat on you. I didn’t even mention it because it was too weird to explain.”

“You…” The words got caught in Y/N’s throat, all of her anger leaving her body. “You smelled my perfume?”

“Yeah, and faintly my mum’s roast, but I didn’t question it.” Fred shrugged. “Why?”

Y/N slowly raised a hand up to her mouth, gazing between where his hand still held her wrist and his eyes. Fred had never been very good at potions, so she knew just saying Annalise was wearing ‘Amortentia’ would explain very little.

“She was wearing a love potion, Fred.” Y/N spoke up, much quieter than before. “You smell what you’re attracted to in it.”

In an instant, Fred’s face was a bright shade of red and he quickly dropped her wrist. His eyes dipped down as he avoided her gaze, and Y/N realized this was the first time she’d ever seen him nervous.

“I…” Fred struggled to find words. “I don’t—I mean, I do… But I didn’t want you to—”

“Ask me what I smell in mine.” Y/N urged, cutting off his rambling. Fred shot his head back up at that, looking at her quizzically.

“What do you smell in yours?” There was a hopeful glint behind his eyes, though his words were soft.

“Fireworks, chocolate…” Y/N took a step closer to him. “And your shampoo.”

The second that Fred fully registered what her words meant, he was closing the distance between the two of them. Y/N let out a shocked giggle as he wrapped her up in his arms, pressing his lips fully to hers for the first time. Although she had seen fireworks before, and she had smelled them almost every time Fred and George were around, neither compared to what it was like to feel fireworks. Y/N’s arms wound around his neck as she pulled him closer to her, prepared to live in the moment forever if she could.

When they pulled apart, there was nothing left either of them had to say. Fred could apologize for putting her through hell for the past few weeks, and Y/N could apologize for being so harsh, but that didn’t matter to either of them at the moment. All that mattered, was they both finally realized what had always been right in front of them.

Very early on in the start of Y/N and Fred’s real relationship, she finally opened up to him about just how awful Annalise really was. His jaw clenched at everything she told him, and he quickly expressed that he never would’ve wanted to be with her had he known. Y/N assured him she didn’t care, because this time, Annalise truly lost.

Although Y/N had been quick to brush off her feud with her cousin, telling Fred it was best to just leave it alone, she couldn’t say she was surprised when she walked into the Great Hall one morning, finding Annalise cowering at her table with neon green hair. It was the exact shade she had used when they were six to ruin Y/N’s drawing. While Fred and George vehemently denied any involvement in the prank, Y/N simply placed a short kiss to Fred’s lips, and quietly thanked him.

TAGS: @theweasleysredhair @letsgotothehop @wand3ringr0s3 @sarcasticallywitty15

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #Fred Weasley fanfic

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hogwartsfirebolt · 4 years ago

Text

timebomb

for @drarrymicrofic prompt "better than fighting" (did I intend for this to be 2.3k no i did not)

The day Harry slept with Malfoy for the first time, was also the day he bruised his knuckles punching his boss in the nose.

The impossible chain of events that led to that stupid, ridiculous, unthinkable conclusion — sleeping with Malfoy, of course, not punching his boss — started two weeks earlier, when Robards slammed a shiny red folder on his desk and said, Sixteen werewolves disappeared yesterday. Find them.

Sixteen werewolves, three families. Including children.

Everyone knew Harry went crazy when children were involved.

In under two days, he found clues that seemed to suggest a high member of the Wizengamot was responsible and launched himself into an apprehension mission without filing for the permit, because he was sure every second that passed, more werewolves were getting kidnapped. He ended up escorting a furious Member Breckenridge to a holding cell.

Robards failed to see his logic, however. It turned out Breckenridge was working with the department in an attempt to catch the actual criminal, and Harry got reprimanded for skipping procedure.

But Harry, tired as hell of having information kept from him for the nth time in his life because, well, Dumbledore, exploded.

He didn’t even feel sorry as he yelled at Robards in front of the entire department for sending him blind into a case that could’ve compromised the wellbeing of so many creatures, including children, and how could he, when Harry could very well have saved them if only he’d known, and — that was about the time he walked up to Robard’s desk and punched him right in the nose.

So, that was the first impossible event in the series of impossible events.

The second was as follows: Harry was put on desk duty for at least six months, Potter, you should thank Merlin I’m not firing you.

This, in Harry’s opinion, should definitely be considered an impossible event. He hadn’t been on desk duty for five years, and had thought himself free of the burden, forever. He’d been wrong.

The consequences to his confinement became rapidly evident, however. For starters, every single person sharing the wide room that served as the headquarters to the Auror force filed a complaint before the clock had struck six that very evening. The Aurors were a notoriously conflictive sort, hardly ever agreed on anything, so the fact that they were all together in their fear was the third impossible event. To be fair, it was terrifying. Harry’s absolute lack of respect for authority coupled with his inability to sit still for even a second made every one of his coworkers fear for their life now they knew they’d be subjected to the rage of the caged tiger for at least six months.

So, all of Harry’s coworkers filed said complaint — all of them, including the incidental employees from other departments that had to pass through Auror quarters for one reason or the other — and stayed within a 10 feet radius of his desk at all times as he fumed so hard he half thought steam would come out of his ears.

The fifth impossible thing was that the only one person who stepped into the office and didn’t immediately run to Robards to make sure they weren’t hallucinating Harry aggressively punching holes through his stationery at the desk he hadn’t occupied in five years, was Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy showed up in the vibrant blue robes that marked his position as a member of the Department of Invoices, Correspondence and Credit, or, as Harry liked to call them, glorified mailmen, and leaned over his desk with a snooty smirk, not appearing surprised to see him.

He’d never been afraid of him, after all.

“If it isn’t the man who made Robards walk into his afternoon meeting with a bloody nose,” he said, apparently fucking oblivious to the very obvious signals Harry’s body was sending him to shut the hell up — the tense fists, the clenched teeth, the jumping muscles of his jaw. Malfoy didn’t see any of it. He continued, “well, what could we have expected, really, you’ve always been rather ... ah, ill-mannered,” and continued, “member Breckenridge had an interesting story at lunch earlier,” and continued, “escapes me how Robards was surprised by your acting on your first impulse, after all …”

And then Harry shut him up. He stood up abruptly, slammed his palms on the desk and leaned into Malfoy’s space, lip curled. He knew, logically, that he was being unreasonable. He also knew he kind of wanted to snarl.

Malfoy blinked, startled.

“What the fuck do you want?” Harry asked. Malfoy kept blinking at him. “Were you here for a reason, or did you come here looking for a fight? Because I will fight you, Malfoy, I -“

“Circe, you’ve got mail,” interrupted Malfoy, waving a neat stack of letters before setting them down by Harry’s hole puncher. “You ought to be kept on a leash, I swear to Merlin.”

Harry was seething by then, however, and decided snarling didn’t seem like such a bad idea after all.

And somehow, after he had delivered a comeback and Malfoy kept pestering him anyway, he found his fingers clenching around the front of Malfoy’s robes, pulling him towards the archive room, through a small door, and apparating him to his house in London. Malfoy’s house. Harry wasn’t very sure how he knew the address well enough to end up there, but he did and he had. This was the sixth impossible thing.

Malfoy spluttered, raged, but his hands pulled Harry close and into the house and it happened.

Harry slept with him. This was the stupid, ridiculous, unthinkable conclusion.

Thinking back on it, he was inclined to say that he’d been out of his mind, but the truth was, he’d had plenty of time to back off, and he hadn’t.

Even more ridiculous, even more unthinkable, was the fact that it … did something to him. After they’d had a go at it in Malfoy’s couch, Harry’s anger had — not disappeared, exactly, but it had been taken over by something bigger, stronger. A raging hunger he’d not experienced in … possibly ever.

And by then he’d been so, so angry for so many years, that he was hesitant to let go of the new feeling. He’d slipped his thumb into Malfoy’s mouth, and they’d had another go at it on his living room floor, and then another in the kitchen, and another in the bedroom, right before passing out, worn out and not angry, for the first time in longer than he’d care to admit.

He felt ashamed of it in the morning, as he was forced to vanish the evidence of their coupling from his chest and thighs, as he apparated home and scrubbed himself down in the shower, as he went to work and kept his head down, sure everyone would take a look at him and know he’d gone and done the unthinkable.

But even the shame was different from the everlasting anger he’d carried.

As he sat at the dreaded desk and curled his lip at the stupid, prying coworkers who stared at him, he found he couldn’t muster up the rage to continue punching holes through all his case reports, and proceeded to be so incredibly embarrassed that his face blushed bright red and he had to pretend to choke on his tea and cough violently so nobody would suspect a thing.

Around the sixth time he did the entire tea-choke-cough thing to fight yet another memory of the night before, the door to the headquarters slammed open and in walked Draco Malfoy, with a swagger to his step and a grin so bright that Harry’s hatred for him was turned up to eleven and intensified past stratospheric levels. Inexplicably, he wanted to run.

“Potter,” Malfoy said, white teeth flashing. Harry thought of a panther, then scowled because no way was intimidating a word he was willing to associate with the little shit standing in front of him, and willed himself to think of a stupid, raging, harmless house cat. Much more fitting. He made a mewling sound similar to theirs, anyway, when he – “Missed me?”

“Why are you talking to me?” Harry asked, digging inside himself for the anger, for something to hurl at Malfoy and run away, escape his maddening smirk, but he came up short.

Malfoy’s grin widened.

“Oh, you know, the usual.” He said, and it indeed was the usual — oblivious as usual, infuriating as usual, then leaned right into Harry’s space, crowding him against his chair and hitting him with his disgusting, revolting, nauseating, fresh minty breath. Then, he showed him a thin envelope. “Your mail.”

Harry snatched it from him. “Good. Now piss off.”

“As you wish. See you later.”

“Not if I can help it.”

He could still hear Malfoy’s laugh, even after he’d left and closed the door, could still feel the disgusting, revolting, nauseating minty breath inside his nostrils, and if he wasn’t careful he could still feel the shape of Malfoy’s mouth around his —

He most definitely was not seeing him later.

Harry told himself this all day. Not seeing him later, he told himself as he stood in front of Robards after he’d summoned him for a ‘meeting’ that was really just a load of bullshit on protocol and procedures and useless things Harry did not give a damn about. Not seeing him later, he told himself as he bought a salad at the café two streets down the ministry and smiled back at the lovely waitress. Not seeing him later, he told himself as he sat at his desk and found himself capable of punching holes after all, but not exactly out of anger.

Not seeing him later, he told himself after his shift was over and he left headquarters.

Not seeing him later, he told himself, as he apparated straight into Malfoy’s living room.

And there he was.

For a second he looked surprised, vulnerable, a flash in his eyes as he took Harry in that spoke of uncertainty. Then, he looked as thought he’d been expecting him.

“You couldn’t help it, then?” He asked, stepping forward and not making any sense whatsoever.

“What are you talking about?” Harry said. It came out low, and not at all the way he’d intended.

“You said you wouldn’t see me if you could help it.” There was triumph somewhere in that sentence, or an attempt at it. There was also a tremble right in the middle, a fracture.

A red, pulsating curl of – of something rose inside Harry’s belly, and he grabbed onto it with desperation, thinking it was there, the anger, safety. But as he took it, owned it and stepped forward to punch Malfoy in the nose as he’d done Robards the day before, he found himself pushing him up against the wall instead, and bringing his face very close to his.

Malfoy’s eyes were a ring of silver overtaken by the wide abyss of his pupils. Awful, disgusting, they made Harry think of ugly murky waters and nasty storm clouds and made him want to retch.

He slid a hand into wispy, blonde, awful, disgusting, revolting hair and pulled him into a rough kiss that was all teeth.

They had a go at it on the living room floor, then another two in the bedroom, before collapsing from exhaustion.

When their wand alarms went off at the same time in the morning, Harry opened his eyes to see Malfoy between his legs. No time for shame.

Afterwards, they padded downstairs, Malfoy two steps ahead of him, wearing nothing. Harry couldn’t look at him, couldn’t look away.

It was different in the morning light.

Malfoy was different, his naked body as he made them sandwiches was different, his eyes resembled something other than murky waters and his hair brushing against his forehead, against the constellations of freckles on his cheekbones was different, and his bare feet, light and silent on the hardwood floors were different, and the curve of his arms and the planes of his chest were different, and his cock hanging between his legs looked different, and Harry — Harry also felt different.

There was the usual racing of his heart, but no trace of anger, the usual heat in his chest and stomach, but not a sign of rage, the usual need to put his hands on the other person, but no want for violence.

He felt his fingers tremble as he poured water into an empty cup.

“Mayo?” Malfoy asked, low, sleepy.

Harry swallowed. “Yeah.”

Malfoy hummed, and Harry stared as he spread mayo onto his bread. At the work of his long, bony fingers. He tried to think they were disgusting, and couldn’t.

“Here,” Malfoy said, handing him the plate when he was done. Harry took it, put it aside.

They had another go at it in the kitchen.

“Isn’t it better?” Malfoy asked, breathless, pushing back against him, hands planted on the counter.

“Better?” Harry said, grunted into his shoulder, into the beauty mark he was getting acquainted with.

“Than … than anger – oh god, please.” He dropped his head back against Harry’s chest, panted, moved faster. “Than fighting.”

Then, he shifted and Harry stopped thinking for a while.

Later, leaning against the wall of the shower as he watched Malfoy wash his hair, he thought about it.

Better than anger.

Better than fighting.

Was it?

He brought a hand up, brushed his fingers against Malfoy’s chest, traced the lines leading down to his hips. Thought about fighting him, arguing. Thought about something else.

They had another go at it under the stream of water, as it turned cold against their feverish skin.

Stupid, unthinkable, ridiculous, perfect, just right conclusion. Harry supposed it was better than fighting.

#drarry #drarry microfic #drarrymicrofic #mine #drarry fic #draco malfoy #harry potter #mywriting

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redhairedfeistynerd · 4 years ago

Text

Slush and a Side of Toys

Part 1

A/N: I'm months behind on everything but here is my piece for @sweater-daddiesdumbdork and @sagechanoafterdark Winter/Holiday Festival Challenge. I chose #38 donating toys to children.

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, angst, frustrated reader, swearing, alcohol

Words: 5800+

Part 2 will be up soon!!

Please like, comment and reblog. I appreciate it and thanks for reading.

All mistakes are my own

A reminder - my work is not to be reposted anywhere.

There’s a muffled humming coming from somewhere under a pile of paperwork and takeout containers on your floor. The sound is constant, piercing, and irritating. Eyes still closed, head pounding from an evening of too much wine and schmoozing, you reached down towards the sounds and ran your hands over the stack, following the vibrations of your phone. Once found, you yanked it away from it charging cord and used every ounce of energy you had, pulling the phone close to your face. Opening one eye a sliver to hide from the light, you read from the bright screen.

Hey, listen, I know we've had our differences the last few years but I think it's time we put all of it behind us. I saw Rosie the other day and asked her how you were doing but she kept it pretty vague. I hope to hear from you soon, even if it's only a text to say you’re doing okay.

Reading over the message a second time, in utter shock that he had the audacity to message you and pissed that he even dare ask your friend about how you were; you decided to turn off your phone and toss it into a pile of clothing on the floor.

What. A. Dick.

Rolling back over into your cozy blanket cocoon, falling back asleep, temporarily pushing away any thoughts of the man from your past.

The message was all but forgotten until later that day when a familiar song came on the radio and you couldn’t help but think about how you had both downed several beers at a pub and sang it at the top of your lungs. Maybe it had been a dream earlier and the text never happened. Pulling your phone from your back pocket, hoping it was all your imagination, you indeed saw that there was a text.

The ever-so-hard to escape blue eyed man, was trying to weasel his way back into your life and you weren't having any of it. Dropping the phone into the bag sitting at your feet, getting up from the desk, shaking out a bit to ease the tension that one tiny text had accumulated.

"Don't think about him. Don't think about him. Don't think about him," you repeated the words over and over, hoping to push all thoughts aside. In stocking feet, walking around the small hole you called your office and continued to shake it out. The calm didn’t last as long as you hoped, anger slowly creeping up and out.

"Stupid frikkin guy!! UGH!" The sound of your disgruntled cry, shook you a bit, the frustration clearly coming out louder than expected. "All right, settle yourself down, you can't let him have this sort of pull over you," hoping the self-talk would work, you ran your hand through your hair and walked back to the desk. "Delete it, pretend that you never looked at it and it will go away."

There was no way the struggle going on inside your head would even fathom deleting the text. Truth be told, as much as you cursed and hated the thought of him trying to slide back into your life, there wasn’t a month that went by without a thought of him crossing your mind. A song playing, a Romcom from the 90s, the pizza you both loved so much. Why couldn’t you escape him?

You shot off a quick text to Rosie, curiosity was killing you now, itching inside you, desperate to find out how the hell you had come up in conversation.

Y/N -Word on the street is that you ran into a clown I once knew; I’m curious what was said.”

Rosie: Oh no, he didn’t.

Y/N: He did and it was pathetic

Rosie: It was a super quick interaction. Both of us waiting for a coffee and being friendly. He asked about you almost right off the bat though. It almost rendered me speechless after what happened.

Y/N - So, that’s it? What did you say? Did you tell him how fantastic my life is going and that I probably wouldn’t even remember him?

Rosie: you and I both know, that that’s a load of shit. I’ve had wine nights with you, that man-child has never left that brain of yours.

Y/N Shut up.

Rosie: Really though, it was super quick. I said you were doing charity work and were still in the city, happy and healthy.

Y/N- good to know. I’ll just sit here and pretend his message never happened then. Carry on as usual.

Rosie: see you later this week?

Y/N Definitely, bye babe.

Placing your phone down on your desk, you continued opening your mail: thank you cards for volunteering, appreciation notes from parents and kids, and requests for you to help out at other groups around town. The next month would be hectic, with collecting the many donations from around the city. You had to finish training several new volunteers that would assist with wrapping, delivering, and presenting gifts to the charities and individual families that you helped support during the Winter months.

It became a mechanical process, opening envelope after envelope, that you weren’t paying attention to the return addresses. It wasn’t until you read the first few lines that the letterhead caught your eye and did it burn.

Blue-eyed monster strikes again via his mother.

You knew it wasn’t the case though, his mom, was offering a bursary to some of the kids you helped out and she was reaching out to you and other groups in the city to help.

It didn’t take much to pull your mind from work once you had read the Evans name on the letter. Bits and pieces shifted in your mind; you couldn’t fight it any more today. The letter slipped to the floor and you sat back against your desk, the memories that you had been pushing away, were flooding back.

It all started innocently about three years ago, bumping into one another around town, having several acquaintances that knew each other, and a tendency to make the other smile when the lamest dad jokes were thrown around. His face was incredibly animated and you loved the way his eyebrows would jump up while he spoke, there was mischief behind them that you wanted to discover. Even a quick peek, would ease the curiosity.

You recognized that laugh from across the room of the gallery – full of heart and genuine. Turning around, you spotted Chris mingling with other attendees of the charity event. You were here to help raise money for low-income families in the community that could not afford music lessons or music therapy for their children. The profits from the art sold this evening, would help buy instruments for the school that was set to open the following month. You knew Chris had donated and you had volunteered to help teach the parents with baby's groups every second weekend. It was the least you could do, you had a bit of extra time and needed to give back to the community that helped you and your family out during your childhood.

“How did I know you would be here?”

You must have zoned out thinking about that boisterous laugh that you didn’t see Chris walking over to you. You smiled as he leaned in wrapping one arm around you, a beer being held in his other hand. His smell was intoxicating – a mixture of orange and the woodiness of sandalwood. Would it be wrong if you pulled him closer to take a quick whiff before he pulled away?

He took his time moving back from you, winking as his arm shifted back to his side and lifting the beer to his mouth with the other, take a long sip.

“So, you out here to buy some art?” he asked, taking another drink.

“No, not buying tonight. One of the pieces is mine, I donated it to help out.”

“You have something up for sale here?” He questioned, taking a quick spin around to quickly look at all the art hanging around the gallery. “Which one is yours?”

“Oh, I am NOT telling you that. I think I’ll leave it up to you to figure out which one is mine. You can play the role of Sherlock Holmes.”

“Now, that’s just cruel.”

“Cruel? Nah. Mysterious? Yes. Are you up for a little game of 5 questions to help you out? If you can guess which one is mine, then I guess you have bragging rights because I haven’t discussed my art with anyone here. If you don’t figure it out, then I suppose it will be a mystery forever.”

“Oh, I KNOW I’ll be able to figure this out!” Chris says loudly, clapping his hands together and popping each shoulder up and down. “I’m always up for a challenge.”

“Here’s the deal, you ask me whatever you need to to figure out which one is mine. Obviously, you can’t ask which one is mine as one of your questions. Ready?”

“Ready!” Chris said enthusiastically. He took your hand and brought you to the front of the room to observe the first of the paintings. “Let’s take a quick gander and then I’ll start. How does that sound to you?”

“Whatever you need to do, Evans.”

Chris pulled you from canvas to canvas, still holding your hand as he inspected each piece. “First question. “Did you only use paint for the one you donated?”

“NOPE, next question, Evans!”

“Okay, okay, I got this,” he bounced around on the spot and turned his head to quickly glance over the works close to him. “Shit, I guess I should have asked if what you donated was a painting, right?”

You walk a circle around Chris “Is that your question?” you ask, eyebrow raised.

His blue eyes flick quickly to yours before he says, “Ya, actually...ya. That’s what I want to know. Did you submit a painting?”

“Yes, one of my paintings is hanging somewhere in one of these giant rooms.”

“You really don’t think that I’m capable of figuring this out, do you? Ye of little Faith,” he smirked and pulled you to the back of the dark room. “Any reason why it’s so dark back here?”

“Maybe that’s what the artist wanted?”

“Here’s question three then,” he said as he pulled you closer to him, your eyes looking into his as he asked. “Is you painting in the dark room?”

“Is that really what you want to ask me?”

Chuckling, you take hold of his hand and lead him to another section of the gallery. “I don’t want you to miss any pieces, so take a look around here before you ask number three.” He squeezed your hand and looked up, the ceiling adorned with a beautiful piece; birds in flight but as they reached the furthest wall, the began to decay, until only single feathers remained.

“Here’s number three, ready?” He looked to his left where you were nodding your head back. “Did you mainly use your hands for this piece? I mean, instead of brushes or other tools.”

You were silent for a moment before answering, did you want to tell him how much of yourself you had put into this piece? That what the brushes couldn’t do, you did with your hands and arms? “I did. This one needed more than brushes.”

Chris smiled at you, “feel like telling me what else you used?”

“Not a chance,” you said, grabbing a glass of white wine from the tray passing by. “You want a glass?”

Chris held up his bottle, its content revealing that it was still half full. “I think I have a pretty good idea which one is yours, so these last two questions are going to be good.” With two large gulps, he finished up the rest of his beer. “So, what happens when I guess, do I get some sort of prize? Maybe you could paint me or something?”

“If you mean, could I dump a bucket of paint over your cocky head, then, sure!”

Chris burst out laughing, pulling you into him for a squeeze. “I love how you make me laugh and I bet you would actually do that to me. But really, if I do guess, what happens?”

You kept your body close to his, his arm still holding you close as you responded, “what do you think would be suitable prize, Chris? Do you want me to paint something, make you a prince? Maybe something of you and Dodger? Or maybe I could paint your like one of my French girls.”

“I would love one of your pieces, but if I win this, I’d like to take you out. Is that okay with you?”

Your grip tightened around the wine glass, trying not to let it slip to the floor. It was a shock, to hear that this man, one that you had flirted with for months, was asking if you wanted to go out with him.

“Y/N?”

“Sorry, I... I didn’t expect you to ask me that,” you answered, fidgeting with your hands out of awkwardness.

“It’s ok, you can say no! It’s all right to tell me no.”

“No. No. I’d love that. If you can guess which one is mine, I will gladly go out with you. Dinner, drinks, walk – whatever you like.”

Chris placed his empty beer on the table closest to you. “Ready for my last two questions?”

“As ready as one can be.”

“Is your piece hung on the wall as a landscape?”

“Look at you Evans, you got another one.”

Chris rubbed his hands together, his smile wide and full, clearly showing that he was on a winning streak. “Here’s number four and then I’ll go right to the painting I think, the painting I know it is. Chris walked back and forth in front of you before turning to face you with his last question. You had grabbed another glass of wine and took a sip, waiting for his winning question. “Does your piece use more than black and white? – so many of these photos, sculptures, paintings are very monotone.”

“You’re good Evans and yes, I filled my picture with the rainbow. So, take my hand and show me what the answer to this mystery is.”

His warm hand took your free one and he walked you to one of the side rooms – this room was full of colourful pieces. You could feel the heat flushing across your cheeks and a thin layer of sweat formed at your hairline. Chris stopped and turned towards the back wall and pointed to one of the paintings. “I’m pretty sure this one is yours,” he said with a half-smile. “Am I right?”

You had wished, during those few minutes he had suggested that he take you out, that he would guess which one is yours. But what were the chances with over 40 pieces around you? You tried to keep your body from slouching before you softly answered “No. That’s not mine.”

The happiness in his eyes left quickly once you responded.

“Are you going to tell me which one is yours though?” He asked you eagerly.

“No, I think I’m going to keep that secret to myself. Thanks for the fun, Evans, I should get home. Another day of charity work for me tomorrow.”

“Wait, Y/N, I’d still like to take you out though, will you let me do that, please?”

“I guess we’ll have to see what the future brings,” you replied, giving him a little wink and a squeeze to his hand, you took one last sip of your wine before heading to the coat check.

Chris watched you as you wrapped a scarf around your neck and slipped your arms into the long, wool coat. Walking back over to him and wrapping your arms around him, it was a quick hug and he barely had an arm around you before you were stepping back. With a smile on your face, you turned and stepped out into the night. Chris watched as you turned right and glanced his way, your hand lifting up and into a quick wave. He couldn’t stop smiling and knew he had to see you again.

It didn’t take long for that to happen. You couldn’t get him out of your thoughts and dreams after the encounter at the gallery. He really was something; funny, compassionate, a hard worker, and you couldn’t deny that he was incredibly good looking.

After an event in town and a few drinks later, it was easy as pie, asking him over for dinner. He had initially thought you were pulling his leg.

Chris couldn’t stop laughing. "Oh ya, sure you want me to come over for dinner," laughing at your request and taking a sip of his IPA.

The pink that had flushed across your cheeks when you had shyly asked him was disappearing like an ice cube in hot soup. He picked up on the change immediately and apologized profusely. "I didn't think you were serious! You are serious, right?”

"Why wouldn't I be? It's just dinner," you shrugged. “I don’t see why you would have such a dramatic response to a simple question.” There was an awkwardness now and maybe you shouldn’t have asked him to come over. “Sorry, I thought since we kind of hand a friendship blooming and I tend to invite friends over...”

He took hold of your arm and pulled you into his chest, a big smile across his face. “I'll come by; don’t you worry. Which day this week works for you? I'll be out of state after this week for a bit, so hopefully something the next few days will work for you,” he said, squeezing you a bit before he released his hold on you.

Trying not to be awkward, you responded "This week will definitely work, tomorrow or the next day are open for me."

"Let’s go for tomorrow, okay? Would you like me to bring anything?” Chris smiled

“Be sure to bring the dog, he's the one I'm really inviting.”

"Well, fat chance of me coming by now, I see where your allegiances lie, " he said half closing his eyes and glaring at you in a teasing manner.

"Ok then, just drop the dog off, I'm sure he'll enjoy the feast."

Chris couldn't help laugh at the way you were carrying on with this charade. The half-smile that was currently on your face was one full of mischief and it was something that he had come to enjoy the last few times he had run into you around town. He could see a sparkle in your eyes, something that he didn’t notice before today and it was something, that he could get used to.

“A thought crossed my mind... what exactly would have happened if I had guessed right?”

“Since that didn’t happen, I guess you’ll never know,” you said with a shrug and nudged him with your shoulder.

“You sure like to tease me.”

“What exactly am I teasing you over?”

“The opportunity to be in your presence again,” he replied, a slight blush crossing his cheeks.

Finishing up your drink, you placed the glass back on the cardboard coaster and turned to face him.

“What the hell is THIS?” he asked grabbing at the green monster type thing that was hanging from a lamp in your living room

"That, is a flying frog - one of those weird ass dad gifts - he's always finding these peculiar creatures for me and I can't seem to part with them.

"It's sure ugly"

"You're ugly!” You shouted back at him and burst into the most beautiful smile he had seen cross your face.

"What are you, 12?

"Sometimes,” you replied.

Chris couldn’t help but laugh at you and pull you into a quick side hug. "You're a funny one" he feels you squeeze him back softly, a smile crossing his face at the quick interaction.

"I better go take a peek in the oven and make sure everything is baking the way it should. Make yourself cozy, I'll be right back." You looked back to him, pointing at the couches before turning and walking down the hallway to the kitchen. Turning you head back, forgetting to offer him a drink but his long strides had brought him right behind you quickly, almost colliding with your body. He tripped up a bit and moved his hand to your hip to catch himself.

"I want to see what you're up to in here, see what the chef is cooking up.” Chris resting his chin on your shoulder to peek at what you were stirring on the stove.

“You couldn’t sit still and wait for me to come back, did you miss me that much,” you teased.

“I couldn’t stand to be apart from you for a second longer.”

“That is the cheesiest lines, Evans. Does shit like that work for you?”

“What matters is, if it’s working on you. So, is it?”

You hummed, refusing to answer the question and carried on taking care of the food in the oven. Satisfied with how everything looked, you turned the timer back on and offered Chris a drink. Agreeing on wine, you pulled a bottle from the rack, passed the stemless glasses to Chris, grabbed his hand, and lead him back into the other room. Sitting on the larger of your two couches, Chris took a place beside you, taking the bottle from your hand, opening the bottle, and pouring you a generous glass before pouring his own.

“To friendship,” he said raising his glass

“To friendship, good food, and drinks,” you added and brought your glass to his, a quick clink, and sips were taken.

Dinner was ready within the hour and you both continued to chat while enjoying your meal.

“That was one of the best meals I’ve had in a long time, thank you”, complimented Chris as he wiped his mouth with the napkin when he had finished his last bite.

The compliment brought the feeling of heat to your face and out of awkwardness you almost knocked your glass over as you reached for the wine.

“Want a refill?” You asked, holding up the second bottle of red that night. “You have good taste in wine, Mr. Evans, this wine is top notch,” you said, looking over the label of the wine he had brought with him.

Chris smirked and slid the glass to his left “I’m glad you think so, I’ll definitely have another. This should probably be the last one though, I feel like I’m overstaying my welcome.” He watched as you poured, your hair falling forward as the wine glass filled. “Cheers, thank you for the invite and many thanks for a delicious meal. You are constantly surprising me with your talents.”

“You aren’t overstaying. I’m enjoying your company and don’t want you to leave yet. Here, let me show you what I’m working on for this year’s event,” you said and pulled your phone out of your dress pocket and slid your finger across the screen. Shifting your body across the cushions toward Chris, you held the phone out towards him.

“What is it you are putting on this year?”

“Another charity event, it’s to help out the single parents that live in the community. I try to donate as much time to charities as possible.”

“You have a heart of gold.”

“I want everyone to have a special holiday season, you do it. I see that you donate time and money to charities.”

“I have the means to help and giving back is extremely important to me.” Chris looked through a few more of the photos before placing the phone down next to him on the couch.

Reaching over to take her phone, Chris put his hand over yours and slid closer. “I know you always think I’m joking around with you when I say how much I love seeing you smile but I’m being 100% honest. Your smile is contagious and I feel like it lights up anywhere we are. It’s a beautiful smile and its part of why I’m so attracted to you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Oh shush, you!” you said pushing your hand into his chest, your smile wider than he had seen before. Again, he put his hand over yours and pulled you to him gently with his other hand. He brought you close, enough to hold you against him for a hug. He watched as your eyes tried to find a joke hidden in his face but you quickly realized that there was something else there. You weren’t sure who moved first as your lips met quickly enough that your teeth clacked together and you swore in pain.

“Oh fuck, only I would ruin an almost perfect moment. I’m such an-

He pulled you to his lips again, kissing you softly and trying not to laugh at the look on your face.

“Am I a joke to you, Evans?” you asked, kissing him back on the lips.

“Oh, not at all, I didn’t want to have to explain to people we know how I broke your teeth though. I mean, I could make up some ridiculous story about it, could be fun,” he chuckled.

You couldn’t help but throw your head back and laugh, bringing yourself back up to face Chris and pull him by his shirt towards you and kissing him without any stupid errors. You could taste the wine on him, the sweetness adding to the softness of your kiss. He took the lead, pulling you closer and slipping his tongue delicately across your bottom lip before deepening the kiss.

Your eyes opened when you hear Chris let out a soft moan, not expecting to hear such a sound from him before you could emit one. He did it again and you felt it all the way down your spine and into your soul. Your hands, still in idiot mode, found their way to his hair, and were quickly taking apart his well-coiffed hair by running your hands through it.

“How does your hair smell so damn incredible?

“How do you taste so fucking delicious?

You pulled back, staring him in the eyes “Hmm, maybe you need to taste a bit more, clean that palate of yours,” you teased.

“Are you implying...”

“Not implying, the buffet is open, sir. Dig in.”

Chris’s face went a light shade of red.

“Oh, did I catch you off guard, Casanova?”

“I mean, no... no...’ he stumbled, “OK, fine yes, yes you did.”

“Well, now that you know, let’s get back to business. All right?”

You took control, standing up, taking his hand roughly and leading him to your bedroom.

“I want you to take off my clothing, piece by piece. I want to see it on the floor and,” you said placing her finger on his lips, “no more talking,” you ordered.

“Anything you want,” he whispered into your ear and he ran his tongue down your neck so softly, that goosebumps raised over yours arms. His hands wandered from your shoulders and down your arms, taking hold of your hands and moving them to his belt buckle.

Looking up to him, he nodded, silently urging you. Undoing the belt and still staring into his eyes. Moving to unzip his jeans and push the button away, Chris was unzipping the back of your dress, the cool line of metal touching your back as he drew the zipper down the length of your back.

“You have goosebumps, do I need to warm you up?

“I’m hoping you get to that. Now, what did I say about talking?”

He smirked, pushing the dress down each shoulder until it dropped to the floor. Stepping out of it, you kicked it off with one foot, tossing it towards the wall. Chris’s hands were already roaming, his hands on your hips, fingers sliding into the thin elastic of your panties. His hands slipped across your warm flesh and directly to your cheeks, grabbing each one and squeezing, and pulling you closer to him. His lips were pressed into yours, his tongue back to searching for yours as he wrapped his arms around you and brought you to your bed. Gently, he sat you on the edge and leaned into you bringing you down to the mattress.

His kisses ran down your sternum and across the soft skin of your breasts while his hands ran across the tops, gently running his fingers over your nipples.

“Keep doing that, keep... keep touching my breasts, Chris.”

You could feel him pressing into you, his erection, warm and pushing against your core.

His hands squeezed your left breast while he brought his mouth down to your right, taking the nipple into his mouth, gently sucking it. Running his tongue around the bud, a chill running across your arms and a moan escaping your lips.

“I need to be in you now, please, y/n,” he said, kissing up your chest.

“In the drawer, condoms are there and hurry the hell up, Evans, I’ve waited forever for it to rain and fill up the well.”

He chuckled as he crawled over you, limbs knocking yours, a soft hand slapped across his ass, as you watched him open the nightstand drawer, which got stuck in his effort to hurry. “Come on Evans, you got this,”

“A little self-talk over there to get you motivated?”

Chris smiled as he held up the package and smiled at you before sitting on the edge of the bed to roll the condom down his hard length. He was on you again, returning quickly, his lips pressing against yours. His lips, wet and warm, pushed harder against your mouth as he pushed your legs further apart, taking himself in his hand, rubbing across your wetness and pushing halfway. The groan that escaped his mouth while his tongue continued to touch yours, sent a tingling sensation down your body.

“Chris, please...” you started to plead and before you could continue, he finished pressing himself into you with a grunt.

“Come on baby, show me how well you can move,” he said as he licked a strip across your neck.

Wrapping your arms around his neck and shifting your body against his, you let out a wail. Your bodies moved together, the pace quick, the sounds of your wetness echoing throughout your room.

“Listen to the sounds we’re making, baby,” Chris panted and drove deeper into you. His body was incredibly warm against yours, the sweat making his chest glisten in what light crept in from the hallway.

Chris slipped his hand down and his fingers met your warmth, crawling in to press against your clit. You clenched around him; a low moan escaped his mouth as he continued his movements.

“A bit more, a bit more,” you groaned, your back arching as Chris sped up. You looked up at him and reached your hand up to his face, holding on and staring into his blue eyes as you felt the tingling ball up within.

Faster than expected and with one last swipe of his fingers, your orgasm spread out from within. Your shoulders tingled, spreading down to your fingers as you yelped out, the warmth of pleasure flowing down and across your body. Chris had shifted to move into you, helping your orgasm along as his own shuddering began. His lips were pressed into your neck, your name crossing his lips as he slowed his pace, and leaned onto one of his arms. He continued kissing up your neck and met your lips, heavy breaths escaping from both of your mouths.

“You’re incredible Y/N. Incredible.” One more kiss was pressed to your lips before Chris sat up, heading to the bathroom. You watched the light turn on and the door close behind him. You rolled to your side; a smile of satisfaction crossed your face as you closed your eyes.

Your heart jumped when you were woken by blankets being pulled half off of your naked body. It took you a few seconds to realize that a man, a very handsome man, was sleepy peacefully beside you. Turning to face his back and shimmying closer, you pulled the blanket to cover your shoulders and back. His muscular back stared at you and you couldn’t help but raise your hand to the pale skin, bringing your fingertip to his warm skin and drawing lines to connect each freckle.

“You, know, that feels incredible, please don’t stop,” Chris asked, his words muffled into the pillows.

You continued using his back as your canvas; swans, sunrises, all the beautiful pieces of the world this man helped you see.

Pushing back into you Chris spoke, “I’m going to be away next week, so I’m hoping I can see you again before I head out of town?”

Your fingers drew the word yes on his shoulder in response. Chris turned over to face you, pulling you closer to him for a soft kiss. When he pulled back you couldn’t help but smile and pulled him in for something a bit more passionate.

Bags packed and his dog set to stay with his family, he walked by the room Scott was in. “Hey, I’m heading out, the car is almost here. Give me a hug for the road.” His younger brother stood up and embraced him, giving him a few pats on the back and wishing him well for his short trip. “Will I see you when I get back or you heading back home?”

“I’m pretty sure I’ll be around still. Mom wants me to stay in town a bit longer. You okay if I’m still free loading off of you a bit longer than planned?”

“You know you’re more than welcome to stay,” he said as his phone chimed from his pocket. “Cars here. Take care of the fam and Dodger for me.” His brother gave him a smile and Chris grabbed his coat and carry-on from the table before heading to the front of the house. Dammit, he had forgotten to remind Scott again about what they had discussed earlier that day. “Scott, make sure you get that message to Y/N, okay? This schedule change was pretty last minute.” He shut the door before he heard a response from his brother. The driver held the door open for him and collected his bags to place in the trunk. He couldn’t get you out of his mind on the way to the airport; your smile, the scent of your hair, the warmth of your naked skin pressed against his. He couldn’t wait to be next to you again.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans rpf #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #writing challenge #ssholidaychallenge #redwrites

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strawwritesfic · 3 years ago

Text

Bruce Banner x Female!Civilian!Reader: Oh My Dear [Ch. 6]

Summary: For [F Name] [L Name], Manhattan was nothing but a hellhole. She got out and wasn’t ever coming back. When a set of cut-rate superheroes tears the city apart, however, her grandmother sucks her back into that familiar life of loneliness and angry customers. Even worse, one of those superheroes has decided to use [Name] in another crazy plan to “help” his best friend. Unfortunately for everyone involved, Tony’s plan just might work-if only for a few months.

Challenge: “#1 AVENGERS ULTIMATE CHALLENGE!!!!“ by DancingBubbles on Lunaescence Archives.

Ratings/Warnings/Tags: T (foul language; sexual references; manipulative friends who won’t take no for an answer; dead parents; difficult relationships with family members; some language that might border on verbal abuse from a family member; angst; contrived coincidences; a generally unresearched depiction of paraplegia; set post-Avengers (2012) and pre-Age of Ultron; Tony & Bruce friendship)

Pairings: Bruce Banner/Female!Reader; Tony Stark/Pepper Potts; Past!Bruce Banner/Betty Ross

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Master List

Chapter 6: Blind Date

Tony ended his call to you with a flourish just as the elevator at the other end of the room whooshed opened. What with the way you talked, one might think he was bothering you or something. And a landline? What time period did you live in? The middle ages? It was hard enough talking to people on the phone without being unable to see their face.

Pepper interrupted Tony’s train of thought by stepping out of the gaping elevator. For a moment, Tony perked up. Then he caught sight of the large stack of letters in her hands.

“Ugh,” Tony groaned, and flopped dramatically back on the couch. “Do we have to go through my fan mail today, Pepper? I’m really not in the mood.”

She answered with a question of her own. “Who were you talking to just now?” The letters remained tightly in Pepper’s hand as she drew nearer and sat herself on the couch next to him. “And of course we have to go through your fan mail. You know the mailman said he wouldn’t deliver any mail if he kept finding our box overflowing like that.”

“But we went through two-hundred letters yesterday!”

“Yes, and the mail came again today. It does that every day except Sunday, you see.”

“Why can’t we just send them all an autographed picture of my face? That’s all they want anyway.” It was true. As flattering as it was supposed to be that he was a big hero now, it got really tedious signing his name so many times. Much more quickly than Tony had expected, he might add.

“Not all of them.”

Tony threw an arm over his face. He didn’t even want to think about those other letters. “Pepper, let’s just not talk about all the illegitimate heir claims, okay?”

“You’re avoiding my question.” Damn, she was observant. Why had he gone out and got himself such an observant girlfriend again? Pepper sat the envelopes down on the glass coffee table and shifted so that one of her legs was beneath her. “Was that [F Name] [L Name]?”

Tony’s eye peeked out from beneath his arm. “Why?” The arm fell back into his lap as Tony smirked. “Are you jealous?”

Without waiting for an answer, Tony leaned over to kiss Pepper’s neck. She pushed him away, though a smile remained on her face. Buzz kill. “No, I’m worried that you’re setting up a date even though Bruce specifically asked you not to.”

He shrugged her off and leaned forward to snatch the letters off the table. The rubber band binding them pulled away with a sharp snap. “He doesn’t know what’s good for him.”

“Oh, and you do? Mister I-Don’t-Need-Anyone-Else?”

“Hey, I’ll thank you to remember that I’m over that little phase.”

“Sure, sure,” said Pepper casually.

Tony gave her a look, but as usual, it completely failed to unnerve the woman. Instead, she took the letters from him and held them firmly in her own lap. Apparently it was time to pay attention, not try to figure out if he could incorporate rubber bands into the device he was making just to annoy Clint.

“Bruce needs to realize the entire world isn’t against him,” Tony said.

“And you plan to show him this…with a date.”

“Yes…No…Well…”

“Speechless, Mr. Stark?”

“Not at all, Miss Potts.”

“Then why are you making him go out when he doesn’t want to?”

Tony rubbed at his eyes. Late nights in the lab did not an easy day make. It was hard to remember that at three in the morning, though, and keeping Bruce up that late had been absolutely crucial to the plan. Tony couldn’t risk him running in on that little phone call. Better that he sleep until lunch.

“He just…needs to get out more. She seems like a nice enough girl–safe, anyway. No idea who he is, by the sound of things. Maybe if he goes out and sees the world a bit, he’ll feel better.” Pepper stared steadily at Tony, causing him to shift uncomfortably. “What?” he asked. “I’m not wrong.”

“I’m not saying you are. I think it’s sweet that you care so much about Bruce.”

“But you still think I shouldn’t have done that.”

Pepper took a deep breath before fixing him with another blue stare. “I think you should listen to Bruce’s wishes a little more often, but you’re going to do whatever you think best anyway.”

Tony cracked a wide smile and pulled Pepper in closer to his side. He kissed her cheek before continuing. “So you’re not going to tell him?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“How do you plan on getting him there?”

“Oh, don’t worry, Miss Potts.” This time he kissed her on top of her head. “I have a plan for every eventuality.”

“Why was I afraid that you’d say that?”

******

Friday night couldn’t have come too soon–or too late. Going on your blind date was going to be agony, you knew that, but

anything

was better than constantly working at Nana’s tiny grocery store. By the time the sun set that day, you’d dealt with ten straight angry calls and were frazzled beyond belief. Not that anyone could tell, after your shower and the twenty minutes you’d spent doing your hair.

A part of you felt silly for putting so much effort into seeing someone you probably wouldn’t bother seeing again. From the news clips you’d caught since his phone call, it was clear that you and Tony Stark did not run in the same moral circles, let alone social. Still, your first date in a year was a special occasion and you were starting to a feel at least “pretty,” despite the trepidation you felt at actually attending.

The heels on your shoes clacked against the wooden floor as you walked up to the front door. From behind you, you could hear the Jeopardy theme song playing quietly. You swung your usual (and only) purse from the closet knob and onto your shoulder before you noticed something was wrong.

The music had stopped. A quick look at your watch told you that you definitely weren’t late. It was only 7:00. Nana shouldn’t have been headed to bed that early. Slowly, and with butterflies rising in waves from your stomach, you turned on the spot.

Nana sat in her wheelchair right in front of you, her head cocked slightly to the left. She was sucking on her teeth, too, and widening her brown eyes in your direction.

“[Name]?” she said. “Where are you going?”

“Oh,” you said in a would-be-casual voice. “Out.”

“Out where?”

The purse slipped from your shoulder, but you caught the strap with your hand as you rolled your eyes. “I have a date, Nana.”

“A date?” Her faded eyebrows disappeared into her hair. “With who?”

“I don’t know.” You had to work to keep the exasperated edge from your voice. Nana had caught you; you’d probably be twenty minutes late, if you managed to arrive at all. “It’s a blind date.”

“And where are you going?”

Sometimes, it couldn’t be clearer that Nana thought you were still seventeen. For a moment, you didn’t answer, as you were too busy digging around in your purse to find your cell phone. Once you did, you took another half a second to find the text you were looking for, then leveled the screen into Nana’s face.

“26 Seats.”

Her brown eyes narrowed suspiciously behind her glasses’ lenses. “That sounds expensive.”

“I have money, Nana.” She opened her mouth, but you cut her off. “My own, from Washington. Not from the store. Mr. Stark assured me that food would be in my price range.”

If you expected Nana to be surprised that Tony Stark had set you up on a date, you would have been disappointed. Instead, her frown simply deepened.

“But who’s going to look after me? My nurse leaves the minute you come home, you know, and I never heard you ask her to come back this evening.”

“What else is there to do? You’ve had dinner. You’re in your pajamas. I’m only going to stay until ten, if even that. I’ll be home in time to get you to bed.”

“Why didn’t you ask me if you could go out?”

You inhaled sharply, then let out a slow breath before you spoke again. “Nana, I am twenty-nine. I don’t have to ask your permission to go out on dates.”

“You live in this house, [Name]. I expect certain courtesies to be taken into consideration.”

It really wasn’t worth the fight–not a date you didn’t even want to go on, really. You shook your head before Nana could launch into full-on lecture mode and opened the front door.

“Yes, and if I ever go on another date, I will make sure to take it up with you before I agree.” You stepped outside and waved your purse in her direction. “Have a nice evening! I’ll be back by ten.”

******

The cab ride to 168 Avenue B was anything but fun. Friday nights were busy and the roads were so congested that your cabby nearly killed you no less than twelve times. When you stumbled out of the cab and shoved his money over to him, you were actually

relieved

to find yourself at the front of the restaurant. Any questions as to whether or not the building was the correct destination were quickly answered by the large “26” in the window.

By then, it was quite dark. Warm squares of orange fell onto the pavement from the inside, but outside the only lights came from the quick, white flashes from cars and the string of Christmas lights draped across the awning. You took a moment to smooth down your skirt. What you were wearing was more job interview material than date night fare–but it was all you had, and beggars in Washington State could not be choosers.

You looked as nice as you could manage, so you took a step toward the small, fenced off patio. A shadow moved that direction at the same time you did and there wasn’t enough time to stop. The owner of that shadow bounced off you, then you both froze as you got a good look at the other’s faces.

“Dr. Banner?” you asked.

“Oh, hey.” He let out a nervous chuckle. “It’s…[Name], right?”

“Yeah, hi. What are you doing here?”

“Uh, Tony invited me. I’m late, so he’s probably already inside,” he said, trialing off at the end, like he wasn’t sure that was information you ought to be privy to.

“Oh.” Oh, no. Your heat sank all the way into your stomach. Something about this smelled fishy, and it wasn’t Dr. Banner’s cologne.

“What are you here for?”

“I’m…meeting someone that Mr. Stark asked me to come meet.”

Your teeth dug into your bottom lip as you waited for Dr. Banner’s reaction. Maybe Mr. Stark really had scheduled something with the man at the same time as your date. You wouldn’t put it past him to spy on you. Still, it seemed awfully suspect, especially as soon as Dr. Banner’s eyebrows raised an inch-and-a-half above his eyes.

“Tony isn’t coming, is he?” he asked.

You shook your head and answered weakly, “I don’t think so.”

Dr. Banner took a step backward and clasped his hands together. “Why am I surprised?”

“You mean he didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me?” He laughed–and he didn’t sound amused. “I should have known he would pull something like this. Tony said something about making me go on a date with you and here we are. I underestimated him.” Dr. Banner shook his head. “I should really stop doing that.”

“I’m–I’m sorry.” Though you weren’t exactly sure why you were apologizing. Not that it was Dr. Banner’s fault either, but Nana was back home stewing and you had nothing to show for your one big night on the town.

“Don’t be. Look, I’m really sorry you got all caught up in this. I’ll go back to the tower and talk to him. We won’t bother you anymore.”

You took a deep breath, then released it as you nodded. “Well, I can’t exactly go home right now, so I think I’m going to go eat. Have fun convincing that guy, though. He sounds like a real keeper.”

“That obvious, huh?” Dr. Banner smiled weakly.

“Well, if a man can irritate someone this much with just a phone call and a couple of texts…”

“That sounds like Tony.”

“He’s not really going to stop bothering me, is he?”

This time, when Dr. Banner laughed, he sounded like he meant it. “Probably not. No one can control that guy.”

“Not even Miss Potts?”

“Not that she doesn’t try.”

You heaved another sigh, then took a step back toward 26 Seats. “Well, Dr. Banner, I wish you luck tonight. I’m going to get dinner.”

“Wait.”

The words, for whatever reason, made you pause and look back at him. Dr. Banner looked so small, standing there on the pavement. Small and kind of scruffy. Was he really the sort of person Tony Stark hung out with it?

"Yes?” you asked.

“Look, this is kind of my fault. Tony just did this because he’s trying to get me to be more social,” he said.

“Okay,” you said slowly.

“If it’s all right with you, can we go ahead and have dinner? It might get him off my back for a week.”

You hunched your shoulders and pressed your purse to your chest. “Dr. Banner, I only agreed to come do this because Mr. Stark threatened to lie to my grandmother if I didn’t. I’m not really looking for any sort of relationship right now. I’m honestly just trying to survive.”

Your words didn’t deter him. Though he continued to rub his hands together, Dr. Banner walked up the path and pulled the door gently open. He gestured inside. “That makes two of us.”

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justlookfrightened · 4 years ago

Text

Special delivery

Takes place in fall of Bitty’s junior year

Holster balanced the stack of boxes on his arm while he turned to shove the door closed with his foot.

“Rans, how much protein powder did you order?” he said, carrying the boxes towards the coffee table. “Like, a year’s supply?”

“That’s not all protein powder,” Ransom said. “The boxes aren’t all the same.”

“I did order tape,” Holster said. “And extra sheets. I forgot that I cut that one set up to make a toga last year.”

“And I got a new set of slides,” Ransom said. “I left mine at home by mistake.”

“You’ve been showering at Faber barefoot?” Holster turned back from the junk drawer with a utility knife and raised both eyebrows. “That is seriously disgusting, bro. We could have like, gone to Target or something.”

Ransom shrugged.

“I didn’t catch anything,” he said. “I don’t think.”

“Better you than me,” Holster said, inserting the tip of the knife into the tape that held the top box closed.

He slit the tape and pulled the box open. It was the smallest one, and kind of light, so maybe Ransom’s slides? He pushed the plastic packing material out of the way and to find a box of condoms.

“Ransom, are these yours?” he said, suddenly feeling a little sick. Sure, Ransom dated around, but an economy-size box of condoms? Maybe he ordered them for the Haus. They’d be good to have around, especially during kegsters. Encouraging good choices and all that shit.

“What?” Ransom peered into the shipping carton. “Trojans? No. I use Durex.”

“Right,” Holster said, stifling the giggle that wanted to bubble up. He knew that. He’d seen the box -- a normal-size box -- in the attic. “I thought maybe you got them, just, you know, to have around. In case someone ends up hooking up.”

“Like put out a bowlful during a party?’ Ransom said. “Sounds like something Shitty would do.”

“That doesn’t make it a bad idea,” Holster said.

“True,” Ransom said. “But I didn’t order them, and you didn’t order them. Who did?”

Holster flipped the top of the box back to read the address label.

“Eric Bittle … Bitty? Why would he need condoms? He hasn’t gone out with anyone since that rugby guy we screwed hin with last year, and that never went anywhere,” Holster said.

“Maybe he’s got a secret life, dude,” Ransom said.

“Like he’s getting out there without us knowing?” Holster said. “How? With who?” “He was away that last weekend before the home opener,” Ransom said.

“He was visiting that cousin, he said,” Holster said.

“He said,” Ransom said.

“You don’t really think … I mean, after screw last year I was pretty sure Bits was y’know, inexperienced,” Holster said.

“You know what Shitty says about virginity being a construct,” Ransom said.

“I didn’t say he was a virgin,” Holster said. “But speaking of Shitty … he and Bitty are close, right? Maybe it was Shitty, and he sent them to Bits. For the Haus. Like he knows Bitty wouldn’t hog them all himself.”

“I think Shitty was closer to Lardo than anybody,” Ransom said. “Except maybe Jack.”

“But he wouldn’t send a box of condoms to Lardo when he’s been pining after her all this time. That would be a little weird.”

“It’s Shitty,” Ransom said. “A little weird is his brand.”

“Whatever,” Holster said. “The problem is what we do now.”

“With what?”

“Unless you have a roll of that Amazon tape, Bitty’s gonna know we opened it and saw what was inside,” Holster said. “Think he’s going to be pissed?”

“Who’s this ‘we’ you speak of?” Ransom said. “I’m not losing pie privileges.”

“Some d-partner you are,” Holster said.

No, man, you're not thinking clearly,” Ransom said. “If he’s mad at both of us, then neither of us get pie. If he’s just mad at you, I get pie. I bring it to the attic, and you can have some.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Of course,” Ransom said. “You’re my partner. Well, depending on the kind. And if Bitty lets me leave the kitchen with it. But sure.”

“Well, for now I’m just going to put this in his room,” Holster said. “Maybe he’ll be flustered enough to never mention it. But if he does figure out who opened it, I can chirp him to hell and back. It’s a win either way.”

****

Bitty saw the box on his bed as soon as he dropped his bookbag.

He had been about to strip out of his jeans, pull some shorts on and start a pie, but there the Amazon box, tape slit neatly down the middle.

“Oh, lord,” he said, tiptoeing towards his bed like he could sneak up on the box.

It didn’t have to be the condoms he ordered, he reasoned. He hadn’t ordered anything else, but maybe someone else did. Maybe Jack sent him more French picture books, or his mother sent another sweater. But why would the box be open?

Maybe it was something from someone in the Haus. Maybe Chowder’s aunt had sent the shark cookie cutters he kept talking about, and he left them for Bitty. Sure.

Nope, the label clearly had his name on it. Bitty pulled the flap back, and sure enough, there was the box of Trojans nestled in plastic padding.

Fuck. All he’d wanted was to be prepared if Jack was able to sneak a visit to the Haus sometime. Sometime when everyone else was not around and he could get to Bitty’s room unseen. Sure, maybe 36 condoms was optimistic. So sue him. Once he and Jack got together, he figured out that he liked sex.

Bitty left the box where it was and stalked to his bedroom door. When he opened it, Chowder was just heading out of his room.

“Chowder, sweetheart, you didn’t by any chance put an Amazon box in my room, did you?”

“No,” Chowder said. “Wasn’t me. Is there a mistake or something?”

“Only in having packages sent here,” Bitty muttered.

Aloud, he said, “Do you have any idea who might have delivered it? Did you see anyone?”

“Um, no?” Chorder said, his face screwed up in thought. “Wait a minute -- when I got home a little while ago, Ransom and Holster were both heading down the hall toward the attic stairs. I thought it was weird that they’d both be using the hall bathroom at the same time, but I thought maybe one was waiting for the other one? Or whatever. It’s Ransom and Holster, you know?”

Bitty gave a curt nod.

“I know,” he said. “It’s Ransom and Holster.”

Chowder clattered down the stairs, no doubt off to meet Farmer, and Bitty went back in his room and closed the door to consider his options.

Option one was to simply never speak of it. Maybe they -- or one of them, but it didn’t really matter because they were both there in the hall -- maybe they simply opened the package by mistake, realized it, and put it in his room to avoid any further embarrassment on any of their parts.

Bitty was an adult man, he reasoned. He was allowed to have a sex life. His captains wouldn’t argue with that. Heck, they’d tried (and failed miserably) to facilitate it. The question was whether they could accept him having a sex life and not sharing the deets.

Option two was to confront them with the open box and ask who they thought they were, going through his mail. Mail tampering was a crime, wasn’t it? Maybe that didn’t extend to package deliveries, but the principle was the same. He could tell them that if they breathed one word about it -- to him or anyone else -- they could say goodbye to pie for the rest of the semester.

That option had its appeal, but it might do nothing more than show Ransom and Holster that that this was a sensitive topic for Bitty. Doing that would be like putting a big red button in the middle of his forehead that said, “Push me.” They wouldn’t be able to resist.

So back to option one. He wouldn’t say anything if they didn’t.

****

For a while, the topic of the Amazon delivery that mysteriously made its way -- opened -- to Bitty’s room didn’t come up.

Bitty could have forgotten it, almost. Maybe he would have, if he didn’t notice Holster shooting him a curious glance when he announced he was going to spend the day in the library on a Sunday. Or if Ransom didn’t ask him -- twice -- if he’d figured out what his type was, so he and Holster could do a better job of hooking him up for Winter Screw this year.

So the box of condoms, now safely squirreled away at the back of his closet, didn’t tickle his brain much. Or at least its manner of arrival didn’t, not until Ransom and Holster started planning the post-midterms kegster.

“So,uh, you have anything to contribute, Bitty?” Ransom asked over breakfast a couple of das before the party. He had his laptop open and the party planning spreadsheet pulled up.

“Well, I was planning on making a few batches of cookies,” Bitty said. “And maybe some brownies … blondies if you think they’d go over. But no hand pies. They take too much work and no one appreciates them properly at a kegster.”

“I got all that,” Ransom said.

“He meant, like, what maybe Shitty suggested?” Holster asked.

“Oh, no, I am not doing that,” Bitty said. “I don’t mind making some special brownies for Shitty every now and again, when he asks and when he supplies the weed. But not for a party. I don’t want anyone to get confused or not know and end up high when they’re not expecting it. And I don’t want a reputation as that kind of a baker.”

“Wait … you’ve made Shitty pot brownies?” Holster said. “And you didn’t give us any?”

“It was his weed, Holster,” he explained again. “And it was over the summer, when I came up to stay with Jack. Y’all weren’t even around.”

“Jack has had pot brownies in his kitchen?” Holster asked, incredulous.

“No,” Bitty said. “I spent a day in Cambridge with Shitty, too. Lardo was there too if you don’t believe me.”

“See?” Ransom said.

“Fine,” Holster said. “But Bits, we’re thinking maybe Shitty reminded you to make sure everyone has a chance to be protected, y’know, in case the opportunity arises.”

“Protected?” Bitty said, feeling a bit nauseous.

“And lubricated,” Ransom said. “Just a little.”

“Just a little lubricated?” Bitty said. “I thought he left y’all the recipe for tub juice.”

“He did,” Ransom said. “And that’ll make you a lot lubricated, but not necessarily in a safe way.”

“Look, Bits,” Holster said. “We know about the box of Trojans you got. We figured maybe Shitty suggested that we put them out for parties, y’know, to help people make better decisions. Seemed like a Shitty thing to do.”

Bitty paused. He thought about going with it. Fluffing it off on Shitty trying to lecture the team all the way from Cambridge. But if he did that, he’d be playing into the false idea that Ransom and Holster had, the idea that in addition to looking twelve years old when he stood next to his huge and buff teammates, he was as inexperienced as a child. And he would have to give up the condoms he got for when Jack visited.

“No,” he finally said. “I bought those. For myself.”

“Bits, you don’t need a condom when you’re by yourself,” Holster said.

“I said I bought them for myself, not that I was going to use them by myself,” Bitty said. “And I’ll thank you not to go through my mail next time. I was willing to believe it was an accident, but here you are trying to get me to give up my property.”

“They’re condoms, Bitty,” Holster said. “Not the deed to Boardwalk.”

“Not the point.”

“How about this?” Ransom said. “You let us put the condoms out, because the more I think about it, it is a good idea. We keep whatever is left over in a stash for the Haus -- a stash you can use too if you want. You can take the money to cover the cost from the fine jar. Whether you use it to buy condoms or not … well, we won’t know, because we learned our lesson about checking the names on packages. What do you say?”

“Fine,” Bitty said. “If you insist.”

“Great,” Holster said. “Bring them down early so we can tear the strips apart.”

“Aye, aye, cap’n.”

The whole thing was ridiculous, Bitty thought, as he put down a full tray of cookies in the place of one that held only crumbs. The condoms were right there on the food table, arranged in a glass salad bowl. It looked like a few had already been taken.

It was silly for him to have bought so many anyway.

He was still looking at the bowl when he heard a Holster whoop from the area of the front door.

“Jack! We weren’t expecting you tonight! Excellent game yesterday.”

Bitty plucked a handful of condoms from the bowl and thrust them into his pocket.

****

Also posted to AO3 as part of Bits ‘n’ Pieces

#omgcheckplease #omg check please #zimbits #my fic

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sohotthateveryonedied · 4 years ago

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Red Robin: Gourmet Burgers and Brews

Summary: Tim gets sued by a burger joint.

Read here on AO3!

“I can’t believe this.” “You had it coming, man.” “I can’t believe this.” “You got cocky. It happens.” Duke shrugs. “This is just the universe’s way of reminding you that the laws of society don’t cease to apply when you’re a trust fund baby who’s also the CEO of a billion-dollar company.” “But they don’t even know any of that! I could be poor for all they know.” “A poor guy with state-of-the-art equipment and weapons.” “Maybe I got it at the Salvation Army,” Tim says. “They don’t know me, they don’t know my life.” “How did you even get this?” Duke asks, picking up the thin pile of documents to look them over again. “I’m guessing they didn’t mail it here.” Tim sighs, pillowing his head on his arms where they rest on the tabletop. “A pizza guy delivered it to me while I was patrolling in the east district. Looked scared out of his mind when he talked to me.” “This is why I do the Tony Stark thing and never let people hand me things. Keeps you out of legal trouble.” Duke takes the document on top of the stack and starts folding it into an airplane. Tim frowns. “I thought his reason was a trauma thing.” “Whatever, I have trauma too. Like watching you freak out over getting served between ass-kickings. It’s terrifying.” “What’s going on?” Bruce asks as he enters the kitchen. He charts a path straight for the freezer, taking out a carton of his favorite banana ice cream—the devil of all ice creams. It’s an insult just to have it in the house. “Tim’s getting sued by Red Robin,” Duke says with glee. Tim drops his chin on the table in misery. “But...you’re Red Robin. Is this for some identity-protection scandal?” “Nope,” Tim says. He pushes the legal documents across the table. Bruce picks them up curiously. “The restaurant is suing me for violating their copyright restrictions. Apparently they got offended that I borrowed their name, even though I’m technically not the one who came up with the idea of Red Robin in the first place.” Bruce’s eyebrows raise as he peruses the details of the lawsuit. “Wow. They’re serious about this.” “Yep.” “Are you going to fight it?” Tim shrugs. “I mean, I have to, right? I can’t just come up with a new name and costume design willy-nilly. Plus, I just started getting recognized as Red Robin. No more being called ‘the new guy’ in newspaper headlines. I can’t just give that up.” “For the record,” Duke says, holding up a finger, “I called this months ago.” “You did not.” “Oh, yeah? Ask Jason. I bet him fifty bucks three months ago that the Red Robin chain would sue your ass before the new year. Perfect timing, too. I can use the money to fix my Signal-cycle.” “You need to stop calling it that.” “I will never stop calling it that.” “I’m sure you can work this out with the company’s board,” Bruce says. “The Wayne Foundation can donate a few thousand dollars to their Gotham branch or something. Easy fix.” Tim rolls his eyes. “Oh, yeah, because they’ll never question why Bruce Wayne of all people is trying to solve a vigilante’s problems with money.” Bruce shrugs. “Well, I tried.” He goes to the silverware drawer for a spoon, effectively abandoning his son’s crisis. Duke folds another paper into a lopsided crane that, if anything, looks more like a demented pterodactyl. “You could always sell out and endorse them.” “What does that even mean?” “You know, buy a few burgers. Do a commercial or two. Get their logo printed on your cape. Advertising goes a long way in the world of business.” Tim snorts. “Yeah, like I’ll just go and turn my vigilante career into an advertising platform. I don’t even eat at Red Robin.” “Doesn’t seem like you have much of a choice,” Bruce chimes in, eating his disgusting banana ice cream straight out of the carton. “Unless you want to figure out a new identity and color scheme.” “Hm.” Tim strokes his chin, as if he has any hope of ever growing a beard. Maybe it is time I get an original nom de plume. I’ve been riding Jason’s coattail my whole life, first with Robin and now Red Robin. I should do something original for once.” He squints in thought. “Like...the Goose. I can wear a white costume with a feathered cape. It’ll be cool, like ABBA.” Duke makes a face. “That’s an image I’ll never get out of my head.” “Or I could do a dragon theme, like a dark green color scheme with scaly leather boots. And a tail!” “Do you want me to vomit? Is that your goal here?” Tim throws a balled-up napkin at him. “Fuck off, it’s a good idea.” “Because all of Gotham wants to watch you parade around in scaly leather kinkwear.” “Why not? Bruce does it.” “I’m leaving this conversation now,” Bruce announces. “Good luck with your legal troubles, Tim.” “I’ve got it!” Tim says after he’s gone, snapping his fingers. “Drake!” “Drake?” “Drake. It’s perfect.” “No.” “Why not?” “It’s too obvious.” “Which is precisely why it’s perfect. No one will suspect a thing.” Duke can’t believe that he ever thought Tim was the smart one. Nobody in this family is the smart one; they all share a single brain cell and Barbara has full custody of it. “When people google you, the only results they get will be of the rapper. Is that really what you want your legacy to be?” “That’s...actually a good point.” Tim clicks his tongue in disappointment. “Damn it.” “If you call up the Red Robin corporation I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to hear you want to advertise for them,” Duke says. “Just saying.” “No. No way. Mark my words, Duke—I will never sink so low as to publicly endorse a burger joint while taking down criminals. I’m an adult. I have pride. And I can come up with a way to get out of this lawsuit without selling out to capitalism.” -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Knock it off.” “Hold still, Timbo. I need to get a good picture of this.” “It’s not funny.” “It is very funny. It’s like an early birthday present, just for me.” Jason snaps a few more pictures with his phone, not even trying to be subtle about it. His helmet is off so Tim can properly see his shit-eating grin. “This might just be the best day of my entire life.” “You’re an ass.” “And you’re a dork with a gourmet burgers and brews logo on your back. You’re in no position to be judging anyone.” “It’s only for a month,” Tim reminds him. “All I have to do is patrol with this every night and eat at the restaurant in costume once a week. Then I’m free.” Jason laughs. “Yeah, I’m definitely sending this to the entire superhero community. They are going to lose their fucking minds.” “You wouldn’t dare.” Tim lunges for the phone, but Jason is half a foot taller and keeps it just out of reach. “Too late, it’s already sent.” “I hate you.” “Fine, fine, I’ll make it up to you. How about we get dinner, on me?” Jason’s grin widens. “Say...at Red Robin?” “Choke on shit and die.”

#i'm a serious writer clearly #this was barely edited whoops #batfamily #batfam #tim drake #red robin #robin #idiot duckboy #duke thomas #dc signal #bruce wayne #batman #jason todd #red hood #fanfiction #fanfic

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spine-buster · 4 years ago

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The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 13

A/N: We’re getting into some seeeeerious business now. Thank you all so much for your anons and DMs about last chapter! Hopefully you all enjoy this one despite the subject matter.

Also, if you didn’t see my post, I created a Ko-Fi page in case you ever want to support my work / my writing: https://ko-fi.com/spine_buster . I love all of you so much and appreciate the reader engagement I have with you SO much!

TW: workplace harassment

December 21st, 2019

Aberdeen Bloom was in a meeting.

Brendan was addressing the room, full of practically everybody who worked on the administrative side of the Leafs. Because it was just a few days until Christmas, he wanted to address everybody before the holiday to thank them for their hard work. It was also the day that Brendan decided to hand out the Christmas gifts for all the employees – a “swag bag” with a S’well bottle, candy and chocolate from Sugarfina, a coffee tumbler from Yeti, a Patagonia sweater with a Leafs embroider, and a Raptors toque. Aberdeen knew because she helped assemble them – literally and figuratively, because Brendan had asked for her opinion on a few of the inclusions. She was happy to see everybody loved the gifts.

As the meeting began to wind down, Brendan singled out some specific people who had earned a promotion. She was glad they were getting the recognition they deserved, because she knew how hard everyone worked. It was a great gesture, and a nice way to wind down the meeting – letting everybody leave on a good note—

“And my executive assistant, Aberdeen Bloom,” Brendan’s words completely caught her by surprise. She could feel a blush rush to her cheeks as many of the eyes in the room focused on her. “Just a couple of weeks ago, Aberdeen pulled off the nearly impossible – she managed to track down Niklas Lidstrom while he was in Toronto to get a signed Tre Kronor jersey from 2006 for our special guest, Colonel Richard Brant. But not only did she get the jersey – get this – she got Nik to come meet the colonel backstage.”

There was a round of applause for Aberdeen. Now she was really embarrassed. There was no reason for him to single her out like this – like she told him, she was just doing her job. She smiled awkwardly at everyone. Even Brendan was clapping. When it died down, he continued. “So, even though she had a bit of a rough start – like everybody does when they first start with the Leafs – I’m so happy to see how much she’s grown and integrated herself into our family. So…great work, Aberdeen!”

Another round of applause. Aberdeen continued to smile awkwardly and even through in an awkward wave for good measure. Brendan said a few more words before the meeting ended, everybody filing out of the room patiently. When she approached him, as one of the last bodies to leave, she gave him a stern look. “How’d you like that?” Brendan asked.

“Please never, ever do that again,” she said, giggling at the end.

“Why not?”

“Because I told you I was just doing my job.”

Brendan shrugged his shoulders. “And you did a damn good job of it, so everybody should know.”

As they walked back into his office together, she saw a perfectly wrapped box lying on his desk on top of all his newspapers and other things. It was very, very rare that things were delivered directly to him – usually it went through her first, and Brendan had no problem with her opening his work mail because it was part of her job and all his personal stuff got sent to his house anyway – so it definitely piqued her interest. “What’s that?” she asked.

“It’s your gift.”

Aberdeen’s brows furrowed. “But I got my swag bag in the room.”

“I know that, silly,” he smiled. “It’s my gift to you.” Aberdeen stopped dead in her tracks, giving Brendan another look. “What?” he asked. “Are you seriously surprised? You think I wouldn’t get you something?”

“Sort of…” Aberdeen admitted. “But also…I was going to give you my gift to you on Monday. It’s underneath my desk,” she laughed.

Brendan let out a hearty chuckle. “Why’d you get me a gift?”

“You’re my boss!”

“Go get it. We’re doing it now. I’ll be too busy with kids being everywhere on Monday.”

Aberdeen quickly made her way to her desk and retrieved the gift, hidden in her bottom drawer. It wasn’t large by any means, but she did put thought into it and she did have to enlist her mom for some help. When she went back into his office, he closed the door behind them. “It’s not much…” she began, comparing the size of the box on his desk to hers.

“You should be saving your money anyway,” he quipped.

Aberdeen sat in one of the chairs and handed him his gift across his desk. He unwrapped the Christmas wrapping paper to see something wrapped in tissue paper and a Prada box. Taking off the top of the Prada box, he was greeted with a blue and white patterned silk tie. He shook his head but smiled. “Aberdeen…”

“I had to get you something from Prada one of these days since you always send me there,” she smiled.

“I love it. It’s very fashionable. What are the kids saying these days? It’s lit?”

“Please don’t.”

“It’s lit, Aberdeen. Thank you.”

“Thanks. Although I think you’ll like the other gift better,” she said.

Brendan placed the box with the tie on his desk and focused on what was wrapped in the tissue paper. When he unwrapped it, he saw that it was a card, made out of thick construction paper glued together. Along the front were the words “With Love from St. Leo”, and in the middle, a big maple leaf cut out and painted with multi-coloured fingerprints. When he opened it, the card had been signed by every student from her mom’s grade one class. A small message was printed out by her mom:

Dear Mr. Shanahan,

We love the Toronto Maple Leafs and we love you! We heard you came to this school a long time ago. You and the Maple Leafs can come visit our class anytime you want and we can show you how well we read!

Love, Mrs. Bloom’s grade 1 class

Aberdeen watched as Brendan read over the card, looking at all the names printed, and his eyes glossed over with tears. He smiled. “Well would you look at that…” he mumbled, nodding his head slightly. He already knew he was going to display this forever in his office.

“She means it, by the way,” Aberdeen said, trying to lighten the mood. She didn’t think it would get him so emotional.

“Oh, I believe it,” he nodded again. “This is really, really special to me Aberdeen. Thank you. I…it’s always nice to remember where you came from, you know? This will remind me,” his tone was so sincere.

“You’re most welcome,” she smiled.

Brendan moved to display it on his desk. He composed himself before picking up the box that started this whole thing and handing it to her. “For you,” he said. “Although I don’t know if it’ll top that card.”

She unwrapped the pretty ribbon and beautiful wrapping paper – clearly Catherine or one of his kids had helped, because for all the skills he had, she didn’t think he was capable of this wrapping on his own. As she tore it apart, a box with the embossed logo and lettering of Smythson London stared back at her. Aberdeen stopped. “You didn’t.”

Brendan only smiled at her.

She was already overwhelmed because she knew how expensive Smythson London notebooks were – the smallest, cheapest, and most basic notebook ran for around £40. But when she opened the box to find three notebooks – two small navy blue Soho notebooks retailing at £195 each and a large gold Portobello notebook retailing at £235, each of them personalized with her initials which she knew cost even more – she felt even more overwhelmed. “Brendan…” she whispered, running her fingers over the embossed calf leather.

“I hear writers write in notebooks or something,” he joked once he saw the look on her face. “Anyway, I want you to have these. And when you get published and become super famous and they display all your notebooks in museums like they do with Charles Dickens or Jane Austen, I want to see one of those behind the glass.”

“I hope I get published one day…” she said quietly, almost to herself.

“You will,” Brendan said assuredly.

Aberdeen nodded. The material part of his assertion was nice – the notebooks – but what obviously meant more to her was the sentiment. Hearing his tone and the confidence in his voice meant that he believed in her. He wanted her to succeed. That meant more to her than anything. “Thank you, Brendan,” Aberdeen said in the same sincere tone he thanked her with earlier. “That means a lot to me.”

Brendan could only smile again. “I like to think I knew what I was doing when I hired you.”

“Was it all part of the Shanaplan?”

“Do not,” he giggled, shaking his head. He hated that term, and she knew it. “Go on. Get out of here. Go start your novel on your lunch break or something. Actually, before you do, can you go down to scouting and give them these for me please,” he said, handing her a stack of files.

She smiled. All was right and normal in the world again.

***

It was a few hours later when Aberdeen found herself in the staff kitchen, warming up a croissant she’d gotten earlier in the day from Starbucks as a snack before she and Brendan had to start preparing for the game against the Red Wings. She had a fresh batch of files from scouting in her arm for Brendan to look over as she stuck the croissant in the microwave. It was then that Ethan walked in, no snack in hand but instead wielding a tea packet. She ignored him. She wasn’t going to grace his presence with a greeting and, though it was probably a bit immature, she didn’t care. He’d said and done enough to her that she didn’t want to be the first one to engage at all.

“Good afternoon,” Ethan half-mumbled, engaging first.

Aberdeen looked at him. “Hello,” she said curtly.

“Nice swag bags, huh?” he asked, trying to engage more. Aberdeen only nodded her head. “Did you put them together?”

“Of course I did.”

She hoped her short responses and tone were getting across that she didn’t want to speak to him, but Ethan couldn’t read a room to save his life, so he kept going. “You know, a lot of us were jealous in that meeting that Brendan was praising you so much,” he said. “We couldn’t believe you pulled that Lidstrom thing off.”

“Guess I’m surprising a lot of people lately,” Aberdeen shrugged her shoulders, setting the files down on the counter. He didn’t have to tell her people were jealous. She had a hunch that it was only him who was jealous, and not anybody else in his department. “Especially you.”

“He must really like you to publicly praise you like that. He doesn’t do that often, you know.”

“Does that officially make me better at my job than you?” she asked cheekily. “You know, after you told me I can’t do the job at the Major Donor Gala.”

Ethan threw his head back at the fact that she brought that up again. He moved to stand behind her as she stuck her food in the microwave. “Abbie, come on. You know I rib you because I think you’re good at your job.”

Well that was news to her, because for the last three and a half months, all he’d been doing was making her job a living hell and telling her how much she couldn’t do her job. This complete 180 was out of the norm, even for him. “You’ve known me for three and a half months and you’ve consistently called me every name in the book besides my actual name,” she said, turning around to face him, bringing up the other thing that was annoying her about this whole interaction. “Don’t try to suck up to me now just because you know for a fact Brendan actually likes me.”

“Aberdeen, do you realize how cutthroat the hockey world really is?” Ethan began. It was at that moment that she realized how close he really was to her; how there wasn’t much room between the two counters of the galley kitchen anyway, but that he was closer to her than normal, than what anybody would consider normal, and it was starting to make her a bit nervous. “Do you realize how much backstabbing there is? How many people cross each other all the time just to get promoted or get ahead? If the little guys like us are going to survive in this industry, or any other industry adjacent to this one, we’re going to need to stick together.”

Aberdeen shook her head. “You’re trying to use me and it’s so blatantly obvious,” she said sternly, turning around so she wasn’t facing him anymore. She didn’t want to face him anymore. “You can’t fool me, Ethan. Now get out.”

“C’mon, Abbie,” his voice was low, and extremely, extremely close to her ear. She could practically feel him breathing down her neck.

Then she realized.

“Stop calling me that.” She tried to make her voice sound strong but it only came out weak as she felt his body pressing up against her back. Angry tears welled in her eyes as her emotions broke through. Her chest began to rise and drop from her heavy breaths.

“Abbie, the hockey world is full of favours that help people move up and excel at their job,” Ethan said.

And then she felt it. His hand on her ass. Her mind went into overdrive. She shifted and reached her elbow up and across to push it away, which she did, thankfully. “Get your hands off me,” she said as firmly as she could.

She turned around quickly so he couldn’t do it again. Her back leaned against the counter, and she saw he had taken a small step back, but they were still unnaturally close. “Abbie—”

“Get away from me,” she tried again.

“Just listen—”

“Is things okay in here?” a deep voice asked from the door way. Ethan took a quick step back further as the both of them looked to see Pierre Engvall standing in the doorway awkwardly, holding a protein shake. He seemed to be assessing the situation, but Aberdeen had no clue how long he had been standing there. She would have seen him, she thought, if he had been there long.

“Pierre! Good to see you up here buddy!” Ethan put a smile on his face, walking over to him. Ethan left her standing at the kitchen counter, chest still heaving. “Feeling good being up with the Leafs?” he asked, switching his demeanour completely. Aberdeen felt sick to her stomach at how fast he could switch from doing what he was trying to do, to being so buddy-buddy with Pierre.

“Is there a party going on in here?” another voice asked from out in the hall.

Aberdeen’s stomach dropped. Right then and there, William popped into the doorway. He looked between Ethan’s shit eating grin, Pierre’s serious stare, and Aberdeen’s face, red from trying to hold back her emotion as her chest still heaved. His brows furrowed. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine!” Ethan said quickly, shifting to get out of the room. He looked over his shoulder once more at Aberdeen, taking his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll email you what Brendan was asking for as soon as I get back,” he called out as he left the room, walking down the hall and disappearing up the staircase.

William was trying to piece everything together. He looked at Aberdeen. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” she said, forgetting about her lunch and gathering the files folders quickly and messily in her arms.

“Aberdeen—”

“Just leave me alone!” she whispered harshly as she shoved past the two large hockey players.

William and Pierre watched as she marched down the hallway, disappearing into the staff washroom. When they couldn’t see her anymore, William looked at Pierre. “What happened?” he demanded.

“I don’t know,” Pierre shook his head, trying to piece together and remember everything that he saw – at least the tail end that he saw – with all the visual, emotional, and verbal cues that just happened. “I…I walked in and he was really close to her and—and—you don’t think—”

William saw red. He didn’t even wait for Pierre to finish his thought or sentence – he started marching down the hallway to Brendan’s office. Pierre followed.

He was the eyes, after all.

***

Aberdeen didn’t know how long she was in the washroom for. She didn’t know how long she’d been crying but also trying to keep herself from not crying and just making herself redder in the process. She couldn’t believe that had just happened to her…that Ethan would do something so awful and so heinous. It had happened to her at clubs before – a quick squeeze or a pat on her ass, unwanted grabs of her hips, or awkward leans ins to try to get a kiss – but in those instances, she was able to swat the boys away, scream at them or tell them off, or her friends would intervene and help. She didn’t do that this time, for some reason. She couldn’t, maybe. Maybe because they were alone? Because she truly felt helpless? Because she really did feel like Ethan could get away with whatever he wanted – he had been for the past few months with her alone, she couldn’t even imagine what he was doing to other people, specifically to other women – so what was the point?

But as she kept thinking about it, she came to a conclusion: that she couldn’t let him ruin her life because she still had her whole life ahead of her. That even though she’d just become another statistic – another woman sexually harassed at work – it wasn’t her primary identifier, and she would never let it identify her. She was so much more than that. She had to put it behind her and had to overcome.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were red, but there was nothing she could do now. All she could do was keep doing her job. And all she had to do was avoid Brendan until she looked normal again. She unlocked the door and stepped out, trying to walk inconspicuously down the hallway.

“ABERDEEN!” Brendan called out loudly from his office.

She stopped dead in her tracks in the hallway. She didn’t even have time to go hide from him, let alone breathe, because Brendan popped his head out the door of his office and looked around feverishly. When he saw her, he immediately noticed the redness in her eyes and cheeks. “Aberdeen, I need to speak to you inside my office,” his voice went ten times softer than what it was.

She was caught. She followed him in, trying to think of ways she could lie to him or make an excuse for why she had been crying. But when she walked in and saw Pierre and William standing in the room, she knew she wasn’t going to be able to get out of it. She sat down in the same chair she had been sitting in earlier in the day. It felt different now than it had then, when they were exchanging gifts. “Why were you crying in the bathroom?”

“I wasn’t crying.”

“Aberdeen—”

“I watched a sad video on YouTube and—”

“Aberdeen,” Brendan said firmly but calmly. He looked her straight in the eye. “Do. Not. Lie. To. Me.”

She took a deep breath. She looked at Pierre, who had a sympathetic and extremely worried look on his face. She looked at William, who looked ready to explode right then and there. “Umm…there…there was an incident—”

“An incident?”

“In the staff kitchen.”

“With who?” Brendan asked. “Was it with Pierre or William?”

“No. God, no,” she shook her head vehemently. “It, um…it was…I don’t…I don’t—”

“Was it with Ethan Baker?” Brendan filled in her stutters. He could see how pained she was. His hands gripped the armrests of his chair. Aberdeen couldn’t look him in the eye. She nodded her head once, bringing her hand up to wipe a tear away. “If we check the cameras will we see that he touched you inappropriately?” Brendan asked again. Clearly William and Pierre had told him what they thought happened.

Aberdeen couldn’t – didn’t – even register that Brendan mentioned cameras, that the entire thing was probably caught on a camera. She couldn’t form words. She could only nod her head. Slightly, too. Not even enthusiastically. Pathetically.

Brendan didn’t say another word. He picked up the phone on his desk and called an extension. “I need Gary to share the last hour of the security footage from the staff kitchen right this instant.”

Aberdeen shifted uncomfortably in her seat. A few more words were exchanged before Brendan hung up the phone. “You’re going to tell me what happened,” he said, before spinning his chair slightly to face Pierre and William. “And then you are going to tell me what you saw,” he pointed towards Pierre, who followed Brendan’s finger and sat to the left of Aberdeen, “and then you are going to tell me what you saw,” he pointed towards William, who sat to the right of her.

Aberdeen recalled everything: walking in, the conversation they’d had, the things Ethan had said to her, where he moved and how he got there and the feeling of how close he was behind her. Brendan wrote everything down. When she recounted how she felt his hand on her ass, Brendan and Pierre visibly scowled. William looked like he was about to punch a hole in the wall. When she mentioned Pierre in the doorway, Brendan stopped her and let Pierre take over. Pierre told her what he saw – he’d come in at the last possible second of seeing Ethan’s hand on her ass before she pushed it away. When it was William’s turn, he mentioned how upset Aberdeen was and how she looked ready to cry. A notification sound came through on Brendan’s iPad and she knew it was the video footage.

“Aberdeen…” Brendan tried to say softly, though he was saying it through gritted teeth. “Have there been any other incidents like this one?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Has he even been inappropriate or demeaning in any other way?”

And there it was: the million dollar question. She remembered everything Ethan had done to her and everything he’d said; she was hyperaware of his presence around her at all times since her first day of work, so she felt like she had to remember everything. In her hesitation, she made eye contact with William. The way he was staring at her, it was like he was begging her to say something. But William. Poor William. He only knew about the bag incident because he had intervened. Now the floodgates were about to open. “Yes…” Aberdeen nodded her head, taking a deep breath.

“What were they?”

Aberdeen reminded Brendan of the coffee incident from her first day, but then recalled the long list of others: the bag carrying incident where William stepped in; the “Girl Friday” and “Brendan girl” nicknames he’d given her; the slightly inappropriate flirting at the Major Donor Gala and the things he’d said to her when she didn’t reciprocate; the comments he’d made to her at the Christmas party. Brendan kept writing everything down. The more she told, the angrier his scribbles got and the harder he pressed down onto the paper. The more she told, the more William looked like he was about to rip Brendan’s massive solid oak desk in two with his bare hands like Captain America did with that log.

“Anything else?” Brendan asked.

Aberdeen hesitated. “Um…no.”

“Aberdeen.”

She could feel William look at her as she looked down to avoid any eyes on her. “There was um…there was an incident where I was in the staff kitchen heating up a snack wrap, and he asked if I should really be eating it because nobody likes a piggy working for a hockey team.”

Time stood still as Brendan, Pierre, and William looked at her, completely and utterly speechless at the words that had just come out of her mouth. She tried to fixate her eyes on something in the room, but she landed on William’s balled up fist in his lap, his knuckles white from how much anger he felt. It took Brendan reaching over to his phone and dialling another extension for any semblance of time to pass. “Can you let Ethan Baker know he needs to come into my office in ten minutes? Thanks.”

Aberdeen knew what that meant. “Brendan—”

“Don’t Aberdeen,” he grabbed his iPad and swiped to his mail to get the security footage. Everything that Aberdeen had said, what Pierre had said, what Willy said – it was all corroborated by the video. Ethan wouldn’t be able to get out of it no matter how hard he tried; no matter what charms he tried to pull on Brendan. Not that Brendan would fall for them. “He’s never working another day in his life for any professional sports organization,” Brendan mumbled. “And I’ll make sure of that.”

Aberdeen was shocked. “That’s—that’s ruining his life—”

“You’re right – I am the one ruining his life,” Brendan said sternly, lifting any feelings of burden off of her immediately.

“And he deserves to have it ruined,” William piped up, his tone scathing. Pierre nodded in agreement.

“You two can go back to the locker room and do what you need to do to prepare for the game tonight,” he said to Pierre and William. Pierre got up first, and had to wait for William, who didn’t want to leave. It wasn’t until Brendan urged him with a slight head nod that he got up out of his seat. Brendan waited until they left completely to continue. “You can go home, Aberdeen. If you want to take the Next Gen day off I won’t mind at all—”

“I don’t want to.”

Brendan stopped. “You what?”

“I don’t want to go home and I don’t want to take the Next Gen day off. Just let me do my job,” she said.

“Aberdeen, I really think—”

“If I go home all I’m going to do is wallow in this feeling. All I’m going to do is think about it over and over again until I cry some more. I don’t want to let him get to me more than he already has. Just…just let me do my job. Please.”

***

William booked it out of Scotiabank Arena the second he was able to. Despite the team winning 4-1 against the Red Wings, William’s mind was somewhere else. He was able to keep focused, sure, and make plays and complete passes, but there were other things that occupied his mind. He didn’t even change into his suit – after showers and media, he left in his workout gear. There was no point in suiting up. He knew exactly the places he needed to go and exactly what he needed to do.

When he got to the lobby of Aberdeen’s apartment, he typed Kasha’s name into the call system and waited to hear one of their voices to let him in. However, there was no voice – only an acceptance of the call, and a click of the door opening. He rushed towards the elevators. He remembered the floor number easily.

The door was already slightly open. When William showed up in the doorway there were three people in the apartment, and luckily, none of them were members of Aberdeen’s family. He didn’t take her as the type to have her parents talk her through a crisis like this one – she was too independent and maybe a bit too stubborn for that – but he knew she’d already called Siena about it. It was what he would do with his brother. Aberdeen had already washed all her makeup off and had her hair in a bun, and was standing in a hoodie and pyjama shorts as she cradled Minerva in her arms. He recognized one of the people as Kasha, but had no idea who the guy was.

Kasha was the first to see him. Her eyes widened when she recognized him. “William?”

Everybody’s eyes turned to him. Aberdeen’s were bulging out of their sockets in shock. He saw that they were red – that she’d been crying again, probably recounting everything to Kasha once she got home. “Hey,” he said.

There was an awkward silence as they all stared at him. Kasha noticed that William was shifting his focus between Evan and Aberdeen and knew she had to be the one to break it. “Will, this is my boyfriend Evan. Evan, uh, this is William Nylander. Aberdeen’s…uh…work colleague.”

Evan moved to shake William’s hand politely. “You guys work together?” he asked, his voice upbeat. “Are you another assistant with MLSE?”

Kasha intervened before anybody else could. “Evan, William’s a player for the Toronto Maple Leafs.”

Evan’s eyes widened at the revelation. It began to sink in to him how…interesting it was to have a member of the Toronto Maple Leafs in the apartment of his girlfriend. “Ooooooooh, okay,” he nodded slowly. “Sorry. I don’t watch hockey.”

“It’s probably better that way,” William quipped.

“I…that was you calling?” Kasha asked. William nodded his head. “I thought you were the Uber Eats we ordered.”

“I’m not Uber Eats but I brought Sugo for…uh…” he held up the bag.

“Sugo’s been closed for like, two hours…” Kasha furrowed her brows.

“They’re not when you’re…me,” William said. He stared directly at Aberdeen. “Can we talk?”

Aberdeen stayed silent. She looked at Kasha and Evan first. Kasha held her hands up in front of her. “Don’t look at me. He’s your friend.”

“Kasha—”

“I don’t mind him being here at all,” she said, knowing what the question would be. If she had to push them together herself, she would. “And you know I’m not going to say a word. He won’t say anything either,” she nodded towards Evan. “If you guys need to talk, then talk. Evan and I will be in my room.”

“We will?” Evan asked as Kasha yanked his arm. “We will. Nice to meet you Will,” he said as he was dragged towards Kasha’s bedroom, the door slamming behind them.

Aberdeen and William looked at each other. She’d barely moved since he walked in the door. She knew with every fibre of her being that he wasn’t supposed to be here, but she couldn’t help but feel…solace? relief? gratitude? as he stood there with his blonde hair and blue eyes and that dumb but cute look on his face. “I got some pasta and their giant meatballs,” he said softly, setting the bag down on the counter.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice a bit strained.

“What do you think I’m doing here, minskatt?” he asked. “I needed to see if you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” she tried to brush him off.

“Aberdeen…” he said softly. “I’m trying to be here for you. Will you let me?”

His words sounded so soft and so sincere that it almost broke her. There was no way she could say no, no way that she could ask him to leave and deny him. After everything that they’d been through, after everything he’d ever said to her, the hotel room visits, everything – she couldn’t deny him this. He wanted to be there for her, and she was going to let him. She swallowed the sob that threatened to escape her. “Plate that pasta and bring it to my room,” she said quietly.

William’s eyes bulged in shock for a split second before he began moving around the kitchen trying to find an appropriate plate. He kicked off his shoes before grabbing a fork and walking into her bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him. He looked around, and it was just as he remembered it. It had been a while, but the events of that night in June still played over and over in his mind. If he thought about it hard enough, he could imagine the feeling of her bare skin underneath his fingertips.

He found her sitting on her daybed, Minerva lying on her legs and her laptop on her desk chair that was placed at the edge of her bed like a TV stand. He handed her the plate full of pasta and meatballs before climbing into bed beside her, sitting right next to her so their bodies were touching. “He deserved what he got, you know. After that piggy story I wanted to go to his office and strangle him with my bare hands.”

She nodded her head softly. “I know. I got that from seeing how white your knuckles were in your lap.”

“Do you want to know how Brendan did it?” he asked. She didn’t respond, so he just went for it. “He called Ethan into his office and he asked him what his dream hockey organizations were to work for. As Ethan said them, Brendan wrote them down. Then Brendan showed him the video, and in front of Ethan, called the president or GM of the teams he mentioned and blacklisted him. He told them never to hire him because he was a sexual harasser.”

Aberdeen didn’t know what to think. She knew William didn’t tell her that to get a reaction out of her, and she knew he wasn’t expecting one either. It was harsh, very harsh. Ethan’s career in the sports industry was ruined, that was for sure. It was a fitting end to a guy who was such a dick. And more than anything, she realized one important thing: Brendan cared about her. He cared about her so much he’d ruin another man’s career for harming hers. “Good,” she mumbled.

“Why didn’t you tell me any of that was going on?” he asked. “You promised me you’d tell me, Aberdeen, and you broke that promise.”

She shook her head. She couldn’t deal with this right now. She knew she should have said something earlier, but she was the lowest person on the metaphorical totem pole, and she didn’t think it was worth William’s time or effort. “Please don’t.”

“I could have helped you, Aberdeen—”

“William, please,” her tone was strained, her voice begging. “I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to keep reliving it. I just want to sit here with you and eat this giant plate of pasta with these giant meatballs, okay? Please.”

William looked at her for a few moments, directly into her eyes, before he nodded his head. It was all he could do. He didn’t want to make her relive it any more than she had to. And, quite frankly, he didn’t want to have to think about it, because thinking about what Ethan did to her made his blood boil and made him want to search every street and apartment in the city for Ethan so he could punch him. She’d let her guard down, however minimally, and said she wanted to sit there with him. If him sitting next to Aberdeen was going to make her feel okay, he was going to do just that. If just being there, physically, was enough for her, then it was enough for him. “What are we watching?”

“The Real Housewives of New York City.”

He smiled. “Alright. Real Housewives it is.”

With Minerva sleeping on her legs, Aberdeen downed the plate of pasta. William couldn’t really keep up with the show, with all its drama and all the ladies gossiping over events he had no clue about, but that didn’t really matter. All he was really focused on was Aberdeen. And as her body language softened the more she worked through the giant plate of pasta, the more comfortable she became. When she was done, she leaned forward and put the plate on her dresser. She’d deal with it later.

When she curled her arm underneath his, he rested his hand on her legs and she leaned her head onto his bicep. Their bodies couldn’t be any closer, and now they were starting to intertwine. It wasn’t long before her breathing steadied, and when the screen went dark during a scene, William could see through the reflection that she was sleeping peacefully against him. He closed the laptop with his foot.

He moved to lie her down in her bed. The disruption in position made her grumble slightly, though she was still latched on to his arm. “Willy?” she mumbled out.

The use of his nickname that everyone else called him but she never did until now brought a small smile to his face. “Minskatt?”

She didn’t say anything else, but she made it clear she didn’t want to let him go. And she showed it by grabbing onto him tighter. When he lay down in her tiny bed with her – seriously, it was tiny and there was barely enough room for his body, let alone both of theirs – she closed her eyes again. Comfortable. Safe. Protected.

William closed his eyes too, letting his feelings of serenity overwhelm him.

***

Aberdeen woke up with the sun, which she was mad about because she had the day off and wanted to sleep in until it was an acceptable time to have brunch. Her body still felt fatigued from yesterday, but her mind – even her mind still felt tired, like she’d barely gotten any sleep. She saw Minerva curled up at William’s feet and smiled.

William.

William was in bed with her.

The events of the night before came back to her – him showing up at the apartment with takeout Sugo; eating the giant plate of pasta and meatballs all on her own; sitting on her bed and watching the Real Housewives of New York; resting her head on his arm until she fell asleep. He’d stayed the night. For the second time in one month, she’d shared a bed with William. The first time, they’d stayed on their respective sides because the bed was big enough – it was respectful and innocent, but she had still kicked him out in the early morning in complete fear. But now, there was no respective sides. She felt his hand underneath her hoodie on her bare skin. She felt his body pressed up against hers, holding her delicately. She felt his chest rising and falling softly. But mostly, she felt the grip of his hand holding hers, cradling it near his chest.

For the first time, she didn’t mind. And she didn’t pull away.

_______________________

Sexual harassment in the workplace resources:

from the Women’s Legal Education and Action Fund: Sexual Harassment at Work - What Can I Do About It?

from the Ontario Human Rights Commission: Policy on Preventing Sexual and Gender-Based Harassment

from The Muse: Here’s What You Can Do If You’re Sexually Harassed at Work

from Workplace Fairness: Sexual Harassment Practical Strategies: How Do I Deal with Sexual Harassment?

from Canadian Labour Relations: Sexual Harassment Lawyers and Attorneys: a Legal Solution

from Workplace Fairness: Sexual Harassment - Legal Standards

223 notes · View notes

rmtndew · 4 years ago

Text

Begin Again ~ Chapter 3

Summary: Walter Marshall is a dedicated homicide detective doing his best to balance his work life with being a single father to a teenage girl. Fiona Sparks is a woman doing her best to take care of everyone and everything around her, except for herself. Neither has had the best luck with relationships, but once they meet, they’re willing to give it another shot, this time with each other. (It’s basically just romantic fluff)

Pairing: Marshall and OFC.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of death, cancer.

A/N - This is a sequel to ‘All I’ve Ever Known’. I started writing this because I needed an escape for some personal stuff going on and my coping mechanism included giving Marshall all the love that man needed, and imagining him being the softest boyfriend to me, then passing those details on to Fiona (my OFC).

I also made a Spotify playlist for this story, if anyone is interested - Begin Again Playlist

Tag list - @hollydaisy23, @alyxkbrl, @onlyhenrys, @omgkatinka, @speakerforthedead0, @gearhead66, @thethirstyarchive, @oddsnendsfanfics, @littlerinoa, @agniavateira, @aaescritora, @justaboringadult, @beenthroughalot, @seriouslygoodlookinggents, @xxxkatxo, @musicartmayheminmyheart

If you want to be added/removed from the tag list, let me know!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

Hectic was the only word to describe the next morning. From the moment I stepped foot into Darcy’s office at Waverly, we were going non-stop. We had a massive delivery that had to be ready by eleven o’clock and even though we’d done as much prep work as we could the day before, it was still a huge undertaking for a single morning. Our saving grace was that the company was sending someone to pick it up for them instead of having it delivered, which meant we could work right until pickup time. And that’s exactly what we did.

We had all the orders boxed up and ready to go, and Nick and I waited in the front room of the store for the pickup guy. Nick’s sole purpose for being there was to make up for his mistake from the day before: his punishment was to help with the loading.

I was double-checking the order (just for my own sake) when I heard the bell above the door alert me to someone coming in. I turned, mentally preparing myself for social interaction, knowing that I had to greet the customer with a smile. But as I took in the man walking towards me, I felt like puking.

“Fiona? Is that you?” Ezra, my ex-boyfriend, was smiling and walking towards me.

I didn’t answer him. Instead, I steeled myself and asked, “Are you here for the Mead-Holmes order?”

“Come on, Fi, don’t play like this,” he said, stopping far too close to me.

“Don’t call me that,” I said. “And what order are you here for?”

He put his hand on my arm. “Fi, I swear I didn’t know you worked here. I promise. Or I wouldn’t have come,” he said. “But maybe it’s a good thing.”

I took his hand off me, removing it completely. “Don’t touch me. Don’t call me Fi. Just tell me what order you’re here to get,” I said, keeping my voice as calm as I could manage.

He scoffed. “Wow. I really thought you’d be an adult about it whenever we finally ran into each other, but I was wrong.”

Nick stepped up. “Hey, I don’t mean to interrupt but I’m here to help load the Mead-Holmes order, so if you’re here to pick that up, you can go ahead and sign off on it and show me where you’re at and I’ll get these loaded for you.”

Ezra kept his eyes on me while Nick was talking and then a moment longer once he finished. Finally, he looked at Nick and let out a breath. “Yeah, that’s my order,” he said. “Where do I sign for it?”

Nick moved behind me, taking the clipboard with the order form from the counter, then handed it to Ezra. He scribbled out something that was meant to be a signature, but I was sure that a brain dead parrot would have had more legible handwriting. Nick had his hand out, ready to take the clipboard back, but instead, Ezra thrust it at me. I took it, trying not to give him the satisfaction of letting him see a reaction on my face.

“Thank you. A copy of the receipt is attached to the order and will be e-mailed back to your company. We appreciate your business,” I said. “Now, if you would show Nick to your vehicle, he would be more than willing to help you load your order.”

He took a set of keys from his pocket, aimed over his shoulder, and pressed a button. The van parked right outside the door beeped and the lights flashed temporarily as he unlocked it. “You can load them in the back,” Ezra said to Nick, not bothering to even look at him.

“Have a good day,” I said flatly, then turned to leave. I didn’t even take a step before he put his hand back on my arm again. My entire body tensed up. “Ezra, let me go.”

“You’re really just going to walk off without talking to me?”

“I did talk to you, but there’s nothing left to say except let me go.”

He removed his hand, then circled around so he was in front of me. “I’m here on business and you’re supposed to be representing your company. Being rude to me isn’t a great way to treat customers.”

I placed the clipboard on the counter and crossed my arms, trying to keep them out of his reach, then took a side step, allowing Nick access to the boxes stacked beside me. “I’m not being rude.”

He smiled condescendingly at me. “Look, I know that we ended on some...rough terms, but I hoped that when we finally saw each other, we could recognize it was for the best.”

“It was for the best,” I agreed.

“See? That’s my girl.”

My jaw clenched as my hands balled into fists. “I’m not your girl. I’m not your anything,” I said. “The reason I think breaking up was for the best is because I didn’t want to waste any more of my time with someone so shallow, and cold, and selfish as you. And the moment you finally revealed that part of yourself to me, the moment you showed me exactly who you are, I was done.” I shook my head. “The one good thing about you being as heartless as you were, was that I never spent a single second worrying about what I did wrong, or how I could have fixed things between us. I never cried myself to sleep at night missing you. Most people who have toxic partners don’t get a clean cut at the end of a relationship like I did. But that day at South York, when you broke up with me all of ten seconds after I’d told you that Dad had been in a wreck, you cauterized that line between us. So yeah; it was for the best.”

Nick made a low whistling sound right before leaving the store, the bell overhead echoing him.

“You know, it’s a little irritating that you always bring up this crap about ending things after your dad��s accident, but would you have preferred me to wait until after you knew that he was dead? Would that have made it easier? No,” he said. “I did you a favor. It was like a Band-Aid. I pulled it off quickly and got it over with. But you don’t see it like that, do you?”

“I’m not sure if you understand the definition of ‘quick’ but talking about it for the full twenty-minute drive to the hospital, where you basically kicked me out on the sidewalk, isn’t it,” I said.

“Do you hear yourself, Fi? You’re happy that I broke up with you, but oh, I should have held your hand and walked you into the hospital? Why so your mommy could yell at me then, too? Even you have to admit that was embarrassing, having Ava yell at me for you.”

My fists tightened, my fingernails biting into my skin. I’d never been so tempted to smack anyone my whole life. “I didn’t have her do anything. She was plenty mad enough to do it on her own. It was her husband who had just died when you dumped all of my stuff on her front lawn because seeing it was ‘too painful’ for you.”

“Well, rumor has it, it’s your house again now.” He took a step closer to me. “That you got fired and had to move back in with her.” He smirked. “Is that what happened, Fi? I wouldn’t marry you so you had to move back in with your mommy so someone would take care of you?”

The bell over the door rang again. I was expecting Nick to come over for more boxes and give me a way to escape, but he didn’t.

“Stop calling me Fi!” I snapped. “You don’t get to call me that anymore. Now I suggest you take your order and leave.”

He frowned at me mockingly. “Aw, am I making you mad? You’re so cute when you’re mad. You finally do that red hair justice,” he said. “You know, if you’d shown this much passion when we were together, I might have actually considered marrying you.”

“Thank goodness I dodged that bullet then.”

The humor left his face. “Whoever gets you next, they better like broken things.”

I looked him in the eye. “Do you honestly think you were strong enough to break me, Ezra?” I asked. “The only thing you could break were promises.”

He sneered at me, then let his eyes drift behind me. I was sure that he was looking at Nick, wondering how much of his true personality he was going to let a stranger see, but then I felt a wall of heat behind me. I turned my head and saw Walter. Comfort flooded my body the moment he was at my side.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, looking down at me.

I nodded. “He was just leaving.”

Ezra took a step back. His mouth was in a thin, tight line as he looked Marshall up and down. “Are you the owner?” he asked. “Because I’m here for an order and your employee here -” He crossed his arms and nodded his head at me. “- she needs to work on her customer service skills.”

“I’m not the owner. But I’m fairly sure she told you to leave.”

Ezra looked confused. I watched in his eyes as he tried to work out what was going on. “If you’re not the owner, then our conversation has nothing to do with you. You have no reason to intervene.”

“I’m here for Fiona. And how you’re talking to her, it isn’t acceptable. She’s asked you to leave, so if you’re here for an order, I suggest you take it and go,” Marshall said. He spoke slowly and deliberately, but each word was laced with anger.

Ezra smiled. “Are you serious? You’re with her?” He laughed, shaking his head. “Good luck to you. You’ll never be able to please her.”

“From what I understand, you never really tried,” Marshall said.

“Is that what she told you?” Ezra looked at me again. “You’re always the victim, aren’t you? You poor little bird,” he said mockingly. “Maybe one day you’ll grow up and see the truth.”

“You know, this immature gas-lighting bull crap that you and Demi both pull, it’s getting old,” I said.

He smirked. “Speaking of Demi, the next time you see her, tell her that I found her earrings. They were in my couch.”

I knew what he was trying to do and I wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of succeeding.

“So you had the audacity to dump my belongings on a dead man’s lawn, but you don’t have the guts to return some earrings that she allegedly left at your place?” I asked. “But I’m the immature one. Sure.”

He was angry that I hadn’t taken the bait. He pushed his hair back from his face aggressively and stepped back from me. “I hope your boss realizes that you just lost a big client,” he said, then started walking away.

“Did we? Because I’m pretty sure that the company is called Mead-Holmes, not Mead-Holmes and Williams,” I said, turning and calling after him. “And I’ve never heard of a partner or CEO fetching lunch for his company. It seems to me that you’re just an errand boy.”

He stopped dead in his tracks, then slowly turned back around. He opened his mouth but didn’t get a chance to speak.

“Don’t say another word. Just turn around and keep walking,” Walter said, putting himself slightly in front of me. “Or I can escort you out. It’s your decision.”

Ezra looked from Marshall to me and I could see him trying to decide if he was going to back down and listen or try to get the last word in. Eventually, he made the smart choice for once and left, shoving past Nick, who was returning to the store, then climbed into his van, slamming the door hard enough to make his windshield wipers jump.

Marshall turned to me, blocking my view of Ezra. His face was softer, his eyes holding worry. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

I let out a breath. It was shaky. My whole body was tense. “No, actually. I’m angry. I can’t believe he had the nerve to come in here and act like that.”

“What do you need me to do for you?”

I blinked. It was a simple question, but it wasn’t one I was used to hearing. It felt like it took me a long time to unwrap it in my mind. Finally, I shook my head. “I don’t know,” I admitted.

“You should take a break,” Nick said. He was loading another portion of the order onto his cart. “I’ll tell Aunt Darcy what happened as soon as I’m done. She’ll understand.”

I chewed my lip for a moment, mulling it over before finally relenting. “Okay. Thank you,” I said to Nick. Then to Marshall, “Would you come with me?”

He nodded. “Where do you want to go?”

I led him through the store and out the back door, into the employee parking lot. The moment we stepped outside, the cold air hit me. I gasped. I hadn’t thought to get my coat from Darcy’s office. Walter noticed.

“It’s cold,” he said, taking off his coat. “Put this on.”

I shivered but shook my head. “No, I can’t take it from you.”

“Yes, you can.” He placed it over my shoulders and held it on me until I finally put my arms through the sleeves, then he pulled it closed in the front. It swallowed me whole. He smiled at me. “Perfect fit.”

I smiled back. “It’s pretty cozy. Thank you,” I said. “But I feel bad that you don’t have one now.”

“I guess I’ll just have to stay close to you for warmth,” he joked. He slid his hands inside the coat and placed them on my hips. Instinctively, my arms went around his neck. We looked like we were dancing, even though we were standing still. His smile grew. “Just like this.” He kissed the top of my head before pressing his forehead to mine. “Do you want to talk about what happened or do you want to forget it?”

I let out a breath. “I don’t - I don’t know.” I let my fingers wander into the hair at the nape of his neck, gently playing with his curls. “That was my ex. I haven’t seen him in two years. Part of me...a big part of me, just wants to forget about him, erase him from my memory and never think about him again,” I said. “But another part of me wants to go yank him out of his van and throw him to the ground and stomp his stupid teeth in. And I hate it because he’s the only person who makes me feel that way.”

“Do you want me to talk to him? The gun and badge tend to make people listen to me.”

I smiled but shook my head. “No. I just want you to stay right here with me,” I said. “Please.”

He didn’t say anything, he only nodded, moving my head slightly with his as he did. Then I closed my eyes as I tried to breathe calmly and let go of the anger that Ezra had stirred up in me. With every passing second, Marshall took over and pushed out any lingering pieces of Ezra. The heat of his hands melted away all remembrances of Ezra’s cold, clammy touch that always had an ulterior motive. The scent of him, clean and full of coffee, chased away the smell of expensive cologne that had always been applied too liberally. His presence was comforting and enveloping, not demanding and suffocating. It was like I’d been trapped in a burning building, inhaling smoke, and Walter was my first breath of fresh air and my lungs were screaming for him.

I opened my eyes and saw him looking at me. I blinked and it suddenly hit me that there must have been a reason for him being there and I’d been so caught up in myself that I hadn’t even thought to ask. I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“I’m...I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I doubt you came here for all of this.”

His hands tightened, pulling me closer. “I came here for you.”

“What did you need me to do?”

He smiled, just the corner of his mouth turned up. “Nothing.” I must have looked confused because he laughed softly. “I just wanted to see you,” he said. “I thought I might be able to take you for coffee?”

I felt my heart swell. My fingers pushed further into his hair, sinking to his scalp. Lightly I scratched my nails against it. He closed his eyes and sighed. “How did I get so lucky to meet you?”

His eyes stayed closed as he leaned back into my touch. “I’m pretty sure I’m the lucky one.”

“Mom, I’m home,” I called out as I walked through the door that evening. “I picked up dinner, too.”

“Already in the kitchen,” Mom called back.

I kicked off my shoes by the door, then went to the kitchen. Mom was at the table, papers spread everywhere in front of her as she wrote on a legal pad. One set of reading glasses sat perched on her nose, while another hung around her neck on a chain.

“So...what’cha doin’?” I asked slowly, standing in the doorway.

She looked up at me and over the rim of her glasses. “Last night, June mentioned that since I was sick on her’s, mine, and Aunt Rose’s birthday, it would be fun for the three of us to go away for the weekend and celebrate. So -” She indicated to the layers of paper in front of her. “I’m planning the trip.”

“A trip to where?” I asked. “What kind of weekend getaways call for this type of planning?”

She shook her head. “No, see, I looked up a few places, printed off a list of all their attractions, restaurants, hotels, what have you, and now I’m making a list of each with pros-cons and prices for them all, then we can decide from there.” She waved her hand dismissively over the papers. “This is all getting condensed. I’m not giving them an entire booklet.”

“So, when Dad said that you were a teacher’s pet, this is the kind of thing he was talking about. Right?”

“I wasn’t a teacher’s pet; I just like being thorough. There’s nothing wrong with that.” She stood and started clearing the table. “Those are pretty,” she said, nodding to the vase of flowers in my hand. “Where did they come from?”

“Marshall gave them to me.”

“He sent you flowers at work? That was sweet.”

“Actually, he didn’t send them. He took me out to coffee and bought them for me afterward,” I said, carrying the vase and takeout bag to the counter and setting them down.

“He saw you last night, and you have a date planned for Saturday, but he asked you out for coffee today?” she asked.

I turned to look at her and leaned back against the counter. I couldn’t help my smile. “He said he just wanted to see me.”

“I think this one might be a keeper, Fi.”

I laughed. “I think so, too,” I said. “Today was very nearly a dumpster fire and he extinguished it.”

She looked concerned. “What do you mean? What went wrong?”

“So, the big order we had today? Ezra was the one who picked it up.”

She paused her cleaning. “What?”

“Yeah. I was there to get the driver to sign off on the order, so I had to talk to him. I was hoping - a little naively, I guess - that we could just keep it simple and professional, but unfortunately that didn’t happen,” I said. “I tried walking away and he followed me, essentially saying that everything that had happened between us was my fault. He said that it was pathetic that you yelled at him after we broke up, making it sound like I’d had you do it for me. And then insinuated that he and Demi were having an affair, or they’re currently sleeping together now. I’m not sure. He was trying to upset me, but I don’t know if it was the truth or not. I didn’t fall for it and ask.”

“Well, if Demi is dumb enough to get involved with him after everything she saw him put you through, then she deserves what she gets,” she said. “And if he thought it was pathetic that I yelled at him, what did he think about throwing your stuff out on our lawn two hours after your father died? Is that not beyond pathetic?”

I shook my head. “I genuinely think he’s too narcissistic to even consider himself at fault. He said he got it over with quick for me.”

She rolled her eyes. “How kind of him,” she deadpanned.

“Then Marshall came in -”

Her eyes widened. “He came in while Ezra was there?” she asked, interrupting me. I nodded. “What did he do?”

“He told Ezra that how he was talking to me was unacceptable and that he needed to leave. Then he took me outside so that I could calm down, and once Ezra left, Darcy let me have an early break and he took me out for coffee and bought me flowers to cheer me up.”

“Oh, Bird. He really is a keeper, isn’t he?”

I put my hand over my chest and felt my heart speed up thinking about him holding me in the parking lot, telling me that he was the lucky one. I let out a sigh and nodded. “Yeah. He really is, Mom.”

That night Walter called me like he said he would. I’d always been rather bad at phone calls and even he had admitted that anything outside of work calls was out of his comfort zone, but for the three and a half hours that we talked, it didn’t seem that way. I lay in bed and talked to him like he was right there. Like we’d known each other forever. We only hung up because I started drifting off. He joked that he was boring me, but I tried to assure him that it was far from that. His voice was calming and soothing and every bit as warm as he was. Sleepily I told him that he was like sitting in front of the fireplace on a rainy day with a cup of tea. He laughed but said as long as he got to sit at the fireplace beside me, he didn’t mind the comparison.

I slept better that night than I had in months.

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill fan fiction #Walter Marshall #Walter Marshall fan fiction #Walter Marshall/OFC #Night Hunter fan fiction #Night Hunter #Nomis #Nomis fan fiction #Henry Cavill fanfiction #Henry Cavill fanfic #Detective Walter Marshall #Begin Again

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stillchaoticlogic · 5 years ago

Text

Fated: The Beginning

Pairing: Reno x Reader

Summary: Ordinary days sometimes house the most extraordinary moments, even if we don’t know it at the time. On that fate filled day you would have never expected the red haired boy to one day become a Turk. You had no idea that your kindness would be repaid in ways you’ve never dreamed about. You had no idea he was the one you were meant to be with. Here’s your story.

Prelude

Today is a day just like any other day. Sitting at your desk among your many co-workers, you are part of the HR team at Shinra. Is this want you wanted? Not really. Okay, not even close, but it pays the bills. Another email about an internal issue in another one of the departments have you sighing in exasperation.

There is suddenly an excited murmur among the department and you turn in just enough time to see a tall lean redhead come sauntering up to your desk. You recognize him immediately; even though he is no longer lanky having grown into his height, with lean with broad shoulders. His shirt stretched taut over his muscles making all the women stare. His hair is a vibrant healthy red no longer dulled by malnutrition. His gaze is almost sultry as you are locked in place by his deep green eyes. You blink up at him in confusion at a loss for words.

Reno…

No, not just Reno…

Reno of the Turks.

He smirks down at you before he sits casually on your desk, like this is a common occurrence in your world, as if he does this all the time, and presents a letter to you.

“I wanted to be the one to deliver this to you,” he says with a casual shrug at your silent question, his voice is deep and velvety.

“Thank you,” you say in shock as you take the letter into your hands inspecting it while ignoring your curious co-workers around you.

“I bet you don’t even remember-” Reno begins.

“I do,” you interrupted as you glance up at him through your lashes, “I remember you, Reno. You’ve done well for yourself.” You say as you lean back in your seat to look up at him easily, casually opening the envelope in your hands. A delivery from a Turk is rarely a good thing and your curiosity gets the better of you.

He sends you an easy grin, completely comfortable and confident in his place and in himself. Of course, you had heard about the successes of Reno. Your dad kept up with his progress and would casually mention him to you from time to time. But even if your dad hadn’t kept you up to date, the Turks are quite notorious, and Reno isn’t exactly one to blend in.

“Indeed I have, though it’s not exactly the life I had pictured,” he leans forward conspiratorially and with a wink he murmurs, “it’s even better.”

You chuckle as he casually leans back, a smirk on his handsome face regarding you before he indicates the letter in your hands. You pull it from the envelope and glance over it before you gaze up at him with wide eyes. He winks and puts a finger to his lips.

“So, long time no see, how’ve you been?” Reno asks just like you are old friends, shifting his posture comfortably on your desk. Though, perhaps you are at this point.

“I’ve been good, you know, just working and hoping to move up,” you say with a shrug.

“How’s your dad?” Reno asks good-naturedly.

“Oh, that’s right,” cuts in a snarky voice, “the ‘princess’ gets things handed to her on a platter.”

You glance over at your co-worker as she regards you with disdain. Reno glares over at her and asks in a sharp tone, “did we invite you into this conversation?”

“Uhh… N-no…” Your co-worker stutters, trying to avoid his menacing gaze.

“Then mind your own business,” his voice is almost a growl that sends a shiver down your back. She shrinks down into her seat and quickly averts her eyes back to her work.

You giggle at him, “I had wondered if I was going to get to meet him.”

“Meet who?” Reno asks as he glances down towards you in confusion, the hostility from a second ago completely vanished.

“‘Reno of the Turks’,” you say with a smile.

He sends you a sly look, “well, if you wanted to meet him all you had to do was ask.” He leans forward on your desk, holding your gaze before pulling away with a subtle wink.

“‘Wanted’ is a strong word, I think I’m happy with just ‘Reno’,” you say with a soft smile.

His eyes soften, if you hadn’t been watching him you would have missed it.

“So, you never answered my question,” Reno says clearing his throat, “how’s your dad?”

“He’s doing well! He’s now head of his department, and his people love him.”

Reno nods his head, “I may need to stop by and see him, it’s been a while…”

“You should, he would like that. He’s very proud of you, you know…”

“He is?” The surprise is evident in his voice. You know he has no biological family of his own, the Turks had clearly become family for him.

“Of course, you made him look good,” you say with a wink.

He laughs with you, “Of course I did. How many of his recruits became a Turk?”

“Only one, but seriously, he keeps up with you and he doesn’t often keep up with any of his recommendations. He even keeps me up to date with you, so I know he’s really proud of the fact that you made it.”

“He’s a good man,” he says with a nod as he avoids your eyes.

“Thanks, Reno. So, what turned you into my delivery man?” You ask as you lean your elbows on the desk and rest your chin in your hand grinning up at him.

He chuckles as he rubs his chin, “well, I recognized your name in the stack and knew that I needed to stop by and see you. After all, you are perfect for this.”

“I am?” You ask with a tilt of your head.

“What?! Of course! You aren’t afraid of anything,” he winks as he stands up and checks his phone. He regards it with an exaggerated frown, you nod your in understandment.

“You’re right, I’m not…” you smirked as you watch him walk away.

“Not even the Turks?” he inquires teasingly over his shoulder, the phone now at his ear.

“Not even the Turks,” you repeated, a sly grin sliding onto your face.

“See you soon,” Reno dismisses with a wave as he heads for the door. He’s speaking low and fast into the receiver.

“See you…” You lift your hand up in a half-wave, you aren’t sure he even saw. You’re still more shocked at seeing him after all this time, and now the letter in your hands. The letter is your chance to move up, and not just by a little bit, but to the top; to achieve a more exciting life, instead of just barely getting by and pushing papers at a desk surrounded by hostility.

“Are you a Turk candidate?” Whispers one of your co-workers. You could almost call this particular one a friend, if only she wasn’t so exhausting to deal with.

“Umm… No… Reno and I just knew each other briefly when we were younger. He was just stopping by to say hi, and deliver some mail he found.”

“Are you sure that’s it and you’re not just his next whore?” The snarky coworker from before spat bitterly.

“What is your problem?” You ask in annoyance turning towards her.

She gives you a haughty smirk, “you just think you’re so great because of who your daddy is and this job was basically handed to you on a platter. Now you even have a Turk to fight your battles for you? How pathetic.”

“We literally have the same job, doing the same thing, and you think this is glamorous? I work just as hard as you, probably harder since I’m not sticking my nose into everybody’s business. Maybe focus more on your work and less on your spite and you might actually get promoted. Also, my relationship with Reno, regardless of what it is, is none of your business. But you can trust me when I say I don’t need him to fight my battles. I can do that just fine,” you bite back.

She scowls at you, about to hiss another retort when your name is called over the com system, along with 4 other names, to meet at a specific conference room. With a shaky breath, you stand up and head out. You can feel your heart racing as nerves wrack your body.

You gaze around at the other candidates, three men and one other woman, all looking equally confused and gripping a similar letter in their hands. No one says anything before the screen on the far side of the room springs to life, on the other side is the Rufus Shinra.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I’m sure you are all very confused as to why I have called you here. As you have ascertained from the letter given to you this morning, I am in need of a personal assistant and you have all been selected as potential candidates. Since this is a time-sensitive matter, we will be doing the interviews today. You have all been chosen since you are the best at what you do and hold qualities that are valuable to the position. You all also come highly recommended by a member of the corporation and I look forward to speaking with each one of you. Thank you.”

Quick and to the point, you would expect nothing less of Rufus Shinra.

The first man called into the office is a serious-looking man named Chase. Your right leg begins to bounce with nervous energy and you just stare at one spot on the wall in front of you. You were not expecting this to be what you did today. Next up, was a man that resembled more the likeness of a snake than an actual man. You don’t bother listening to his name, he’s too smug for you to pay much attention to. Shortly after, your name was called next and you walk into the room with your back straight, a serious look on your face.

You regarded the four Turks in the room calmly. They are positioned behind Rufus Shinra’ desk and you read it for what it is -- an intimidation tactic. You catch Rufus’ eyes and give him your most professional smile, holding out your hand to shake and introduce yourself confidently.

“Miss. (L.Name), you have come to me highly recommended. Please, tell me what you could bring to this position?”

You give him another one of your best smiles before you begin your answer, “thank you, sir. I am very efficient, hard-working, and reliable. I always strive to solve problems creatively and effectively. I work independently, as well as in a team with no problems. I-”

“These are very wonderful answers, Miss. (L.Name). However, everyone I have chosen today is efficient, hard-working, and reliable. They are the best in their current department. What I want to know is what sets you apart from them.”

Your eyes widen from being suddenly interrupted. Rufus Shinra regards you coolly from behind his sleek marble desk. Your eyes are in your lap and you glance up just enough to see the Turks gazing at you with unreadable expressions. You inhale a sigh, a smirk slides its way onto your lips as Reno’s words echo in your mind, and you throw caution to the wind.

“Well sir, I was told recently I’m not scared of anything. And I mean anything. I don’t just mean work-related challenges, even though I can tackle them head-on as well. I mean, I was almost assaulted on my way home from work last week and I had to beat three drunks into the ground with the lid of a trash can,” your gaze is fierce as you regard the past week’s events, “I don’t take anyone’s shit, and I don’t particularly care who they are or how important they think they are, I don’t tolerate being disrespected. So to put it frankly, if you are looking for an assistant that will wipe your ass every day and praise everything that you do… Then I am afraid I’m not that person. However, if you want an assistant that will contribute valuably to Shinra and it’s future, all while actually getting things done, then you can do yourself a favor and hire me now.”

The room is silent at your speech and you know in the next moment you are either getting promoted or fired. When a smirk slides onto his lips and a light chuckle escapes them, you start to feel the tension leave your shoulders.

“He was right about you… You are perfect…” Rufus muses more to himself than to you.

“My father?” You ask instinctively.

“Reno,” he says as he indicates the redhead to his left, “he said that you’re perfect for the job. I admit at first I didn’t believe him. You seemed too compliant, but, as it turns out, he was right.”

“So, I start Monday?” You ask with a sly smile as you regard the group before you.

“Yes you will, unfortunately, I still have to do interviews to keep up appearances. The job is yours though.”

You can’t stop the smile on your face, “thank you, sir! You won’t regret this.”

“Let’s hope not…” Rufus glances between you and Reno, just as Reno sends you a signature wink.

“We shall discuss the details of your new salary on Monday, in the meantime, you have the rest of the day off. You will be moving into your new apartment closer to Shinra and my condo.”

“Oh?”

“Someone will be in contact with you this afternoon about your new accommodations.”

“Thank you, I look forward to working with you,” you say sincerely, getting up to shake his hand once more before leaving the room.

Your expression gives nothing away as you leave the room and head back to your desk to gather your things. Though, there is an energetic skip in your step as you head to the door.

Several hours later, as you are finishing cleaning off your bookshelf there is a knock at your door. You furrow your brow and go to answer it. Opening it, you find Reno on the other side. He looks up and into your eyes the moment the door opens.

“Figured you might be hungry,” he says, indicating the pizza in his hands.

You smile as you open the door wider, “a man after my own heart.”

Reno smiles as he walks inside and inspects the place.

“Nice place! I think you’re gonna love your new one too, though.” He sets the pizza box down on your kitchen counter.

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I do. You’ll be pretty close to all of us too.”

You walk to the cabinet to grab plates for you both. You hand him one before he opens the box and you both dig in.

“You’re right on time. I was starting to get hungry.”

“Yeah? How’s packing going? You need any help?” He asks around a mouth full of pizza.

“I couldn’t ask you to help me, Reno. You’ve done a lot for me already, recommending me for this job and all.”

“What are you talking about? You were already a candidate. I just put the bug in the boss’ ear. Plus there is no way that I could stand Tseng’s pick,” he says with a shudder.

“Let me guess! That really serious looking guy!”

“The one who never even changed his tone the entire time,” Reno says with a groan.

“Yeah, working with him would have been brutal…” You say as an afterthought as you take a bite of pizza.

“There would have been two of them then…” You share an overexaggerated look of horror with Reno before you both burst out laughing.

“I’m glad he picked you,” he leans against the counter sending you a sly look.

“Oh? Why is that?”

“Well, you actually have a personality, plus you are WAY easier on the eyes than those other guys.”

You scoff as you playfully punch him, “so you just wanted me to have the job because of my looks?”

“Hey! I said you have a personality first!”

You laugh heartily, glancing over at him. “Thanks, Reno,” you say, bumping him lightly with your shoulder.

“Don’t mention it,” Reno shrugs.

You both fall into a comfortable silence before you head to your fridge and pull out some wine.

“Want some?” you offer, as you go to grab a glass from the shelf.

“You don’t have any beer, do you?”

You frown slightly, “No… You want anything else?”

“Naw, the wine is fine…”

“Sorry, I’m not much of a beer drinker…”

“S’okay, it’s your house… Plus I should have grabbed some on the way over.”

You pour him a glass and hand it to him. He thanks you quietly before he takes a sip, “not bad…” he regards the liquid in his glass.

After a few minutes, Reno claps his hands, “come on! We gotta get you packed!”

“Reno! I told you that you don’t have to help!”

“Well too bad because I am!” He says as he undoes the clasp on his suit jacket and throws it over the back of your couch.

“Is the apartment furnished?” You inquire as you glance around your own place.

“Nope, I’m taking you shopping tomorrow while the movers come to pick up your things.”

“Wait! What? Tomorrow? The movers are coming tomorrow?!” You begin to panic.

“Yep! That’s why we gotta get you packed!”

You curse under your breath, “you could have said something sooner!”

“And ruin dinner? That was top notch cheap pizza!”

You hide your smile and roll your eyes, “you’re ridiculous…”

“You love it,” he smirks as he grabs a box and heads into the kitchen.

It’s at that moment a small meow is heard from the floor and Reno looks down in surprise. His eyebrows practically jump up into his hairline and his mouth opens in surprise.

“Is this!?” He exclaims.

“It sure is!” You giggle as Milly skirts around Reno and rushes to you. You pick her up as she regards the new person warily sniffing the air in his direction. You pet her to help calm her nerves and speak gently to her as you do so. She eventually relaxes against you while still regarding Reno with distrust.

“I can’t believe you still have her… Then again I don’t know how long cats live,” he scratches the back of his head in slight embarrassment.

“They live for a while. I once heard of a woman whose cat was 32 when she died.”

“The cat or the lady!?” He asks in surprise.

“The cat!!” You laugh.

Reno chuckles as he slowly approaches you and holds out his hand for the cat to sniff. She does so hesitantly before rubbing her face against his hand. He chuckles again as he pets her, astonished that she is in your arms.

His eyes soften as he watches her rub her face against his outstretched hand, no doubt recalling the last time he saw her.

“It seems so long ago… a lifetime…” Reno says softly.

“I guess for you it was…” You glance up at him with a smile.

“Yeah… My life changed a lot that night… I owe your dad a lot,” he murmured wistfully, “He got me off the streets, helped me make something of myself. Even when I was talking about my dreams that night, I didn’t know if I would ever escape that hellhole. Now look at me, I’m a Turk. Not exactly the life I was picturing back then, but I’m not going to complain about it.”

“I’m happy for you Reno… People were so cruel to you…”

“Hey now! Enough with the sappiness! We’ve got to get you packed! You move in tomorrow!” He turns away abruptly leaving Milly meowing in annoyance that her pets stopped suddenly.

“Oh! Right! Okay!” You exclaim in surprise at the sudden topic change. You understood though, he doesn't want to relive his old life, he left it behind so many years ago. Perhaps this time though you’ll get to be the friends that the two of you never got to be.

With that, you both get to work packing up your apartment, throwing jokes and comments at one another along with knick knacks that you each find along the way. The playful banter is something you didn’t know you needed, it keeps the nerves at bay. Or maybe it’s Reno that you didn’t know you needed...

Notes: Apparently there is a... cam guy? I don’t really know anything about him except his name is Reno, every time I’m looking for Reno gifs his gifs show up too. So there are just clips of this guy shaking his ass on the bed and I’m always so surprised when they show up! I can’t... Anyway long time since this was updated but I hope you enjoy it anyway!! Shout out to my Beta: @westsideeffectsvary

Please like, reblog and comment! You know all that good stuffs!

#reader insert #Reno #reno sinclair #reno x reader #ff7 reno #Reno Of The Turks #reno imagine #reno sinclair x reader #ff7 imagine

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stardew-vxlley · 5 years ago

Text

now or never

summary: Shane’s crush on the farmer isn’t much of a secret around Pelican Town--even the farmer knows. What is a secret, is that the farmer feels very much the same for him. In a fleeting moment of courage, the farmer decides to ask him out.

pairing: shane x reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: mentions of food/alcohol

a/n: requested by @dontletyourchildrenwatchthis !! full of fluffy adorable love and shy, nervous shane. enjoy!

―

The chilly morning autumn air blew the orange and brown leaves in a flurry around Pelican Town Square. The village was just waking up--Pierre was posting the daily Help Wanted sign in front of his shop, Evelyn was pushing George in his wheelchair across the cobblestones to his monthly check-up at Harvey’s clinic, and Mayor Lewis was walking briskly back to his house, coming from the suspicious direction of Marnie’s ranch.

These mornings were always your favorite. You waved to Mayor Lewis as you made your way to Pierre’s--and the mayor hastily returned the wave and disappeared into his home with a flustered expression. You chuckled to yourself as you recalled fetching his purple shorts from Marnie’s room not too long ago.

“Good morning, farmer [Y/N]!” Pierre greeted you warmly as you entered the general store. Sliding the scarf from around your neck, you grinned at him.

“A good morning indeed,” you replied, eyes traveling over the colorful boxes and jars of various assortments. “I’m all out of wheat flour--trying to make a batch of cookies for everyone.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” he exclaimed, pointing to the aisle closest to you. “Up there on the top.”

“Perfect, thank you!”

You studied each of the boxes of flour, trying to decide how many you should buy. You were so deep in thought that you didn’t hear the jingle above the door chime cheerfully, but you registered Pierre’s greeting to who walked in.

“Shane! You’re up early today,” he remarked.

You nearly dropped the boxes in your hands, a red tinge creeping into your cheeks. Peeking through the merchandise stocked on the shelves, you saw Shane heading towards the snack aisle. His usual tired expression was as clear as ever, scowling at the rows of chips on the shelf. Biting your lip, you tried to be as discreet as possible as you hurriedly decided that one box of flour was enough for your cookies--and headed directly towards Pierre to pay for it.

“Just one box today?” Pierre asked, punching a few buttons on his register. “Will it be enough?”

“Oh, um, yeah--yeah, one box should be plenty,” you rushed out, keeping your eyes trained on the old counter top. Out of your peripheral vision, you noticed Shane was looking in your direction--earning an even deeper blush in your face.

“Just the usual price, then,” Pierre said, and you handed him the bag of coins. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Nope, nope, thank you!” you said hastily as you quickly gathered the flour in your arms, turning on your heel to make a beeline for the exit. Unfortunately, you hadn’t been paying close enough attention to see that Shane had gotten in line behind you, holding a bag of chips and a jar of sugar. You collided into him, sending everything flying in every direction.

“Oh, Jesus, I’m so sorry!” you cried out as you scrambled to clean the mess up.

“N-no, it’s okay,” Shane said, his cheeks flushed with matching embarrassment. “I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that.”

“I shouldn’t have been moving so fast,” you sheepishly admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

Luckily nothing had been harmed. You reached down and retrieved his bag of chips, holding it out to him. He took it from you, and there was a beat of awkward silence.

“Well,” you uncomfortably cleared your throat. “I’m--I’m gonna go now.”

“Sorry again,” he offered, passing by you to place his things up on the counter, where an impatient Pierre had been waiting.

“N-no problem!” You nearly tripped over your own two feet as you walked out of the general store. Once you were outside, you took a deep breath of autumn air and fanned your flushed cheeks.

Truth be told, you knew Shane had feelings for you. He wasn’t the greatest at keeping secrets--but it’s not like he had to try very hard to keep his mouth shut. It was his actions that gave everything away--you caught him gazing at you from across the saloon on more than one occasion, he sent you heartfelt notes in the mail (along with a smushed frozen pizza), and every time you were near him, he became a blubbering, flustered mess. It was adorable.

However, what Shane didn’t know, is that you had feelings for him too. Strong ones, at that. You found yourself taking the long way to town, past Marnie’s ranch, in hopes of maybe catching him while he was on his way to work at the Joja Mart. You also would steal glances at him on Friday nights in the saloon, brooding and mysterious in the corner.

But you could never bring yourself to say anything to him. You had tried, but each time you handed him a plate of pepper poppers as a token of love, you always chickened out and ended up running away. Like--literally running away. At full speed. There was just something about him that made you nervous, but in a good way--with butterflies and giddiness.

Later that evening, you were pulling the last batch of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies out of the oven. The warm and inviting smell wafted through your farmhouse, reminding you of the ones that your father used to bake for you as a child. Evelyn had been so kind and generous as to share her secret recipe with you, but you remained convinced yours would never come out as delicious as hers.

You packed them up tight in a container and set off to the saloon to deliver them. An enormous harvest moon was high up in the sky, illuminating Pelican Town with its celestial radiance. The stars twinkled cheerfully around it as you walked across the square.

You pushed the heavy wooden door open, the warm glow of the saloon washing over the steps of the stoop. The sound of the jukebox echoed across the town, the sound of silverware and drinks joining it in a pleasant symphony.

“Those look like cookies,” Gus called out from behind the bar, a twinkle in his eyes. “Freshly baked?”

“I literally just took them out of the oven an hour ago,” you laughed, stepping up to the bar and placing the container down. “You’ll keep them safe and make sure everyone gets one, right?”

“I’ll guard them with my life,” Gus promised, taking the container and lifting the lid. He inhaled deeply with a satisfied grin. “Smells like Evelyn’s recipe.”

“You have an incredible nose,” you chuckled, and turned to leave the bar. Your eyes couldn’t help but search for Shane, quickly darting to his usual spot by the fireplace. And...he was there. You locked gazes, that old familiar blush creeping back into your cheeks.

He awkwardly lifted the beer he was drinking in acknowledgement to you, to which you responded with a little wave.

“Won’t you have a bite to eat, [Y/N]?” Gus’ voice pulled your attention back to the bar. “I just made some of my classic spaghetti, hot off the pot.”

You opened your mouth to decline, it was getting late and you needed to get some rest. But on a whim, you smiled and nodded. “Sure, I’ll take a plate.”

“Wonderful,” he grinned, and disappeared to fetch it. You nervously tapped your fingers against the wooden bar, feeling Shane’s eyes boring a hole in the side of your head. You suppressed the urge to look at him again, focusing on the various bottles and dishes stacked along the wall.

Gus returned with a steaming plate of spaghetti, and your worries were placed on a temporary hold as you drew in the mouth-watering scent of homemade tomato sauce and pasta.

“Thank you so much, it smells divine,” you said graciously, looking up at Gus. “How much do I owe you?”

“On the house tonight,” he replied, picking up a glass and cleaning it with a dish rag. “For that little favor with the lobster.”

You beamed at him, and began eating your dinner heartily. It was as delicious as it smelled, and pretty soon you were fighting the urge to lick the sauce off the plate. Emily came by and took the dirty dish away, exchanging pleasantries with you while she did.

A moment passed where you were alone at the bar, full of pasta. A bolt of courage surged through you and you lifted your eyes to where Shane stood, watching him stare at the floor and drink his beer. His mop of hair fell into his eyes, making him look young and vulnerable. The hand that wasn’t holding the beer was shoved into the pocket of his jeans, sleeves of his sweatshirt pushed up.

You bit your lip in anticipation. Now was your chance--Gus and Emily were tending to other patrons, no one was in your way--all you had to do was get up and move.

Forcefully exhaling a breath, you pushed away from the bar and started walking over to where he stood. His focus turned to you, locking on your eyes as you neared him. You almost tucked tail and ran away--again--but something in you told you to just suck it up and get on with it this time.

You came to a stop just a few feet in front of him. Your mind raced to figure out just what exactly to say, mouth falling open with no words coming out. He stared at you, beer paused just halfway to his lips.

“Uh,” Shane said, “hi.”

“H-hi,” you stumbled over the word. You anxiously fiddled with your hands, blushing furiously.

His eyebrows raised in question. “C-can I help you?”

You laughed nervously, trying to refrain from tugging on your ear--something you did in any nervous situation. “I--I have something to ask you.”

You had his full attention now. He set down his beer on the counter before turning back to you and crossing his arms, the muscles in his forearms flexing.

“What is it?”

This was it. Now or never.

“Do you want to go out sometime?” you rushed out, squeezing your eyes shut in humiliation.

When he didn’t answer right away, you slowly cracked one eye open to peek at him. He was in shock--his whole face was red and his mouth was hanging open in surprise.

“You don’t have to say yes!” you reassured him, holding your hands up in defense. “I just--I really like you, and I want to--uh--ya know, get to know you better.”

Shane looked around, as if trying to find someone. His gaze landed back on you, brow furrowed in confusion. “I d-don’t get it.”

Now it was your turn to look confused. “What--what don’t you get?”

“You’re asking me out?”

“Ye-e-es?” you replied slowly, not liking where this conversation was going.

“And it’s--it’s not a prank? Sam didn’t put you up to this, did he?”

“No!” you exclaimed as you waved your hands. “It’s not a prank--that would be a horrible thing to do. No, I...I just really want to spend more time with you.”

Shane stared at you, until his adorable cheeks split into a grin. “Alright. Yeah--actually, I got two tickets to the Tunnelers game this weekend, do you want to go with me?”

“I would love to!” you said, all-too excitedly, and winced at your enthusiasm. “Sorry--I’m, ah, really nervous.”

“I know the feeling,” he replied, picking up his beer again. “So--gridball game, this weekend. I’ll meet you by the bus stop.”

“It’s a date,” you said cheerfully, and immediately blushed again. “I’ll see you then.”

“See you then,” he said.

Your heart was so full in that moment, that you didn’t realize you were staring at him in silence again, until he cleared his throat.

“Sorry! I’m gonna--” you gestured to the door with your thumbs, “--gonna get home now. To the farm. That I live on.” Smooth.

“It’s getting late,” Shane remarked as he glanced at the clock. “Can I--can I walk you home?”

“That would be really nice of you,” you replied shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Thank you.”

He led you out of the saloon and into the autumn night, and the two of you talked the entire walk home about anything and everything. And long after he had given you a sweet, nervous goodnight kiss on the cheek while the two of you stood on the porch, you lay awake in your bed and wished with all your might that this next week went by quickly, so you could steel your nerves and kiss Shane for real.

#shane #shane stardew valley #shane stardew #shane x farmer #sdv #shane sdv fanfic #shane x reader #stardew valley #stardew valley fanfiction #stardew valley fanfic

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