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g-hughes · 5 months ago

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Let’s talk Nico Hischier in the form of a request shall we? "I just want you to be happy! And perhaps a little bit naked."

The Girl from Across the Hall - N. Hischier

masterlist || g's graduation celly

synopsis: Ever since he moved in, Nico has had a crush on his neighbor, but she doesn't feel the same way. . . or does she?

word count: 3.0k

warnings: idiots to lovers, mentions of hookups/sex, cursing, drinking

Nico had a crush.

At age 25, Nico Hischier, captain of the New Jersey Devils, had a crush on his best friend.

It wasn’t like Nico planned on falling in love with his best friend, it just kind of happened. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but it did, and there was nothing that he could do about it.

Nico could remember the day he met her like it was yesterday. He had just been drafted by the Devils, and was moving into his apartment, by himself in Jersey City. He wouldn’t ever admit it out loud, but he was terrified; being in a new country, a new city, about to embark on a brand new journey in his life. Nico thought he was doing a good job at hiding his nerves, but apparently, he was not.

On the second week of being on his own, Nico had ventured out to get some basic things for his apartment that his mother hadn’t already supplied him with. He was thankful that his parents had flown across the ocean to help him move in. He hadn’t ever lived on his own before, and found himself calling his parents almost every single day. Nico had gotten by for two weeks with the basic supplies and amenities he had, but he wanted to get some more things like a blender and a waffle iron, and maybe some decorative pillows.

But Nico was a lot like his mother, and ended up buying a lot more than what he had wanted to get. With his arms full of shopping bags, Nico made the trek up to his tenth floor apartment, breaking a sweat by the time he got to his front door. He grunted as he shifted the bags around, trying to grab his keys out.

“C’mon,” He said to himself, trying to adjust his keys in his hands, his arms beginning to hurt from the bags cutting off circulation, “Fuck! Fuck!” He cursed as his keys clattered to the ground, “Fuck!”

“You okay?” A gorgeous girl in a pair of shorts and a tank top stood in her doorway, a confused look on her face.

Nico sighed, and looked down at his keys, “Yeah.”

“You sure?” She asked and Nico shook his head.

“I dropped my keys,” He said in defeat.

“I see,” She said, stepping out of the door, “You just move in?” He nodded, and she bent down to grab his keys, easily finding the one to the door, “I’m Y/N,” She introduced herself, putting the key in the lock, and turning it, “My sister and I live across the hall.”

“Nico,” He said, and she pushed the front door open, “Thank you.”

“No problem,” She nodded, “But you know. . . the doors have their own key fob you could’ve used. Hell of a lot easier than fiddling with a key,” Nico’s jaw dropped dumbfoundedly, as he watched Y/N skip back across the hall, “Nice to meet you, Nico!”

And now, nearly 7 years later, Nico lived in the same apartment with Y/N still across the hall. Though things had changed over the years, such as Y/N’s sister moving out and Nico becoming the captain of the devils, their friendship never changed. They got closer as the years went on, both of them being the same age, having some of the same interests. But Nico was drawn to her personality; confident, sassy, smart, a beautiful person both inside and out, but also a bit intimidating. Nico had witnessed her first hand hold her ground against pissed off hockey fans, and dudes who think they are entitled to get something after a first date.

And maybe that was why Nico was afraid to tell her how he felt. Or maybe it was because he didn’t want to lose her as a friend. Y/N had been one of the first people he had connected with when he moved to Jersey. She was there through it all, his tough rookie season, bad losses, exciting wins, being named captain, a run in the play-offs, a miserable season following. She was his person, his best friend. And he was going to be damned if he did anything to mess with that.

So Nico kept his feelings a secret, and kept on playing the dutiful best friend role that he had been playing for the past 7 years. Even when all he could do was sit on a barstool and watch as she danced with some random guy at the bar.

“You know,” Jack said, sitting down next to Nico, “This is getting pathetic.”

“What is?” Nico asked, looking at his alternate captain.

“You,” Jack said, honestly and the Swiss man furrowed his eyebrows, “And her,” Jack then pointed to where Y/N was, her back pressed against some guy as they swayed to the music.

“She’s having fun,” Nico shrugged, “And I’m making sure he doesn’t disrespect her.”

“Oh you are such a hero, Nico! A stand up guy! Oh please have my babies!” Jack feigned, batting his eyelashes in an exaggerated move, “You’re making me sad! It’s a bar! We just clinched a playoff spot! And you’re making me sad!”

“Then don’t look at me,” Nico sassed back. He grabbed his beer and took a hefty sip, before looking back at the dancefloor where Y/N was still with that guy. She was facing him now, whispering something in his ear, as his hands sat dangerously low on her hips. Maybe they were discussing going home with each other. It wouldn’t have been the first time that Nico spotted her coming home with a guy or watching a guy leave out her front door. It broke his heart every single time, but he would never tell her that.

“Look,” Jack said, sitting his beer down, “I am just looking out for you, okay. It is painfully obvious that you have a thing for Y/N, and it’s kind of obvious that she doesn’t feel the same. I don’t want to see you get hurt. And I feel like that's where this is heading.”

Nico sighed, hanging his head, “So what do I do?” He asked honestly.

“You find yourself a hottie, take her home, and bang her,” Jack said as if it was the simplest thing in the world, “Hey, I know that you haven’t had your dick in something other than your hand since you broke up with Macy eight months ago.”

Jack was right, Nico hadn’t been intimate with anyone since his ex. Macy was a great girl, fantastic even. She never got mad or upset about him always being going or putting most of his focus on hockey and the team. The only issue was, she wasn’t Y/N. Nico hated that every time he kissed Macy or touched her, he would imagine she was Y/N. When Nico broke up with Macy, she wasn’t mad, and it was almost as if she expected it. She even told him that she knew his heart wasn’t completely in it, and that it belonged to someone else.

“I don’t do one night stands,” Nico said.

“How do you know? Ever had one?”

Nico was silent for a moment, “No.”

“Then?” Jack encouraged, “Just get it out of your system.”

Nico pondered it for a moment, looking around the bar. It was packed, girls in scantily dressed clothing, and men with fake designer clothing on. The loud music felt like a second heartbeat in Nico’s chest, and the air was thick with sweat.

“Her,” Jack said, pulling Nico’s attention, and pointing to a girl on the other side of the bar, “She’s just your type, she looks like Y/N.” Nico hated to admit it, but the girl on the other side of the bar did look a lot like Y/N. A tall-ish build, with beautiful curves and a bright smile. However this girl had a certain aura about her, as if she was commanding all eyes to be on here, where for Y/N, all the eyes in the room naturally followed her.

“I’ll be back,” Nico said, chugging down the rest of his beer before going to the girl.

It was about five minutes later that Y/N came bouncing up to the bar, out of breath, and in dire need of a drink. She loved going to bars and clubs like this. She loved feeling the bass in her bones, the bright lights robbing her of her site, the layer of sweat on her body. She knew that Nico hated it, but would grin and bear it just for her, he hated her going to these places alone. But the Devils were in the playoffs and so coming to the club was a must for celebration.

“How ya been, Dancin’ Queen?” Jack greeted her.

“Dying of thirst!” Y/N answered back, draping an arm around his shoulders. He held up his beer in offering and she shook her head, “Water, please. I don’t like drinking alcohol at the club.”

“You’re so weird,” Jack shook his head, but knew her reasoning. Y/N only liked to drink in a ‘controlled environment’ as she would call it, the comfort of her apartment or Nico’s or Jack’s, or anywhere that wasn’t in public. She was just naturally a ball of fun at the club, sober.

Jack waved down the bartender and asked for a glass of water, which Y/N thanked him for. The cool liquid felt amazing down her dry throat, “Where’s Nico?”

“Overthere,” Jack smirked, nodding towards the other side of the bar. Y/N’s eyes widened as she saw her best friend, leaned up on the side of the bar talking to a gorgeous woman, “Where’s your date?”

“My date?” Y/N asked, looking back at Jack.

“Yeah,” He shrugged, “The guy you were dry humping on the dance floor.”

“Logan?” Y/N asked again, a laugh tumbling from her lips, “He’s been my friend since elementary. He’s just here for the weekend.”

“Mhm,” Jack nodded, rubbing his lips together. Y/N looked back over towards Nico, a weird feeling in her chest as she watched him move in closer to the girl, and brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

Y/N swallowed down the rest of her water, “I think I’m gonna call it a night. I’ll order an uber or something.”

Jack snapped his head towards her, “What? No? You love this club!”

“Yeah,” She sighed in defeat, “But I’m tired and my feet hurt and the music is starting to give me a headache.” Jack looked at her incredulously. Usually Jack and Nico were dragging Y/N out of the club at the end of the night, hardly ever did she want to leave before last call. Jack looked over at Nico, and then at Y/N, realization settling on his features.

She was jealous.

“Are you-”

“I’m leaving,” Y/N ordered, turning on her heel, but Jack grabbed her arm.

“Hey,” Jack said, “One, you’re not going to get into an uber by yourself on a friday night in Jersey City. I’ve watched enough SVU to know that’s a recipe for disaster.”

“Thanks detective Tutuola,” Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, her breasts being pushed up over the top of her silver slip dress, “Are you coming then?”

“Yes,” Jack grumbled, “Hold on.” He turned back towards where Nico was standing, waving his hand to get his friend’s attention, but Y/N was growing impatient, not wanting to stand there and watch Nico talk to some girl who was giving him ‘fuck me’ eyes.

“Uber is two minutes out.”

“Fuck it! I’ll just text him.” Jack groaned, slamming back the rest of his drink and getting up from his barstool, “C’mon.” He put his hand on the small of her back, leading her hastily out of the bar towards the awaiting bar.

“That’s seriously so cool!” The girl, whose name Nico learned is Megan, said, “I have only been to Switzerland once, and it was the most beautiful place I have ever been too. We went up to the mountains and ugh. . . that’s a sight I still have dreams about.”

“Yeah it’s def-” Nico was cut off as his phone buzzed in his pocket, “Excuse me,” He blushed as he pulled his iPhone out of his pocket, seeing a message from Jack. His dark eyebrows furrowed as he read it and then looked up, seeing Jack slam his glass down and all but run out of the club, his hand on Y/N’s back. Nico looked back down at the message, anger blooming in his chest.

‘Going home with Y/N. Don’t wait up.’

Nico clenched his jaw, sliding his phone back into his pocket. He huffed and turned towards Megan, “You want to get out of here?”

Megan licked her lips and nodded, “Sure.”

— — —

This is what the walk of shame must’ve felt like, though she had little shame as she walked down the hallway on the tenth floor to her apartment. It was more like she didn’t want anyone to see her current state of dress, a large oversized t-shirt, a pair of men’s boxers, and white nike socks all courtesy of Jack Hughes. After they left the club, Y/N didn’t want to return to her empty apartment, instead she went back to Jack’s place, where Luke had escaped to earlier in the night. She had crashed in Jack’s bed after many more drinks and rounds of UNO.

Now, she was making that fateful walk back home, her silver dress strewn over her arm and her heels in her other hand. Her hair was a mess of curls and hairspray, her face felt disgusting with the remnants of last night’s makeup. Y/N was almost home safe, when her neighbor opened his door, startling her.

“Hey,” Nico said, standing shirtless in nothing but a pair of running shorts and sneakers, “You’re just getting home?”

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded, “I ended up staying at Jack’s last night after we left.”

Nico felt his heart speed up, “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Y/N said again, this time shrugging, “I felt like I had been home alone so much this week with you guys gone, and didn’t really want to come back alone so I-”

“But you weren’t alone,” Nico crossed his arms over his chest, “You had Jack.”

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed at the shift in Nico’s tone, “But I was tired of looking at the same scenery, I need a change. What’s with the interrogation?”

“Just didn’t know you and Jack were like that.”

“We have been for a while,” Y/N shifted on her feet, “Usually he comes over here cause Luke is-”

“Luke knows?”

“He lives there,” Y/N was growing confused and a bit annoyed, “Look, it’s not that deep. I crashed at his place last night. I don’t know why I’m getting grilled like a criminal right now.”

“Cause he’s my teammate,” Nico grumbled. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling, anger, jealousy, sadness. “And we’re about to go into the playoffs and I don’t need some chick messing with his head.”

Y/N was taken aback by Nico’s words. ‘Some chick’? Y/N wasn’t just some chick. She was Nico’s best friend, and considered an honorary WAG of the Devils organization. Everyone loved and adored her, inviting her to sit in the same section with the rest of the WAGs or on roadies or to watch parties. The coaching staff knew her on a first name basis and knew that if anything happened to Nico, she was the first person to call. Y/N L/N wasn’t just some chick. And Nico knew that.

“Fine,” Y/N pursed her lips, “Good luck in the playoffs, Nico. I’ll leave you and the rest of your team alone.”

“Wait, Y/N-” Nico was cut off by the loud slam of her front door and the lock turning. He groaned, cursing himself in his head as he walked up to her front door, pounding his fist against the wood.

“Go away!”

“No!” Nico protested, continuing his loud knocking on the door.

Y/N rolled her eyes as she yanked the front door open, “Go away and quit knocking on my door like a lunatic!” Y/N went to slam her door in his face again, but Nico stopped it with his strong hand. She let out a huff as she turned on her heel, welcoming him into the apartment.

“I’m sorry,” Nico said, running a hand through his hair, “You’re not just ‘some chick’. . .” He took in a deep breath, gathering up the courage, “You’re everything to me.”

“Nico,” Y/N sighed, looking up at him from the couch.

“Just listen,” Nico stood in front of her, “I’m in love with you. And I have been for a while. And I-I know you don’t feel the same way about me, and I’m okay with that. Well, I’m learning to be okay with that. It sucks, okay,” Nico shook his head with a self deprecating laugh, “It sucks because I just want you to be happy! And maybe a little naked with me,” His cheeks turned red and she couldn’t help but giggle, “But if that’s not what you want, then I’ll deal. I want what’s best for you and if Jack is what is best-”

“Wait,” Y/N held her hand up, cutting Nico off in the middle of his confession, “Jack?”

“Yeah,” Nico nodded, “You said that you guys have a-”

“Oh my god,” Y/N couldn’t help the laughter falling from her lips. “Oh my god, Nico.” She closed the gap between them, placing her hands on his stubbled cheek, “Jack and I? We are friends. There is nothing and I mean nothing between us,” Her eyes searched his for a moment, as she drew in a breath, “I love you too. And I have for a while.”

Nico didn’t hesitate to place his lips on hers, pulling her flush against his body. Years of pent up tension and wondering what the other was thinking washed away in an instant. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his brown hair. When the two of them pulled away for air, Y/N rested her forehead against Nico’s.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” She asked.

“Me? Why didn’t you?” Nico laughed, “God, we’re dumb.”

“Yeah,” Y/N smiled up at him, “But you love me.”

“That I do.”

#nico hischier #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier fan fic #nico hischier fic #nico hischier one shot #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #nh13 #hockey imagine #hockey fan fic #hockey fic

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totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus · 3 months ago

Text

Fic: Something to Sink Your Teeth Into 4/?

Read on AO3

Pairing: Buck/Tommy, Vampire/Witch!AU

I was not expecting to have to delve this much into political structures, but I can't lie--it's kind of fun.

“Do we get to know why we’re kidnapping one of Gerrard’s party favors, or is this another situation where I sleep better if I don’t know?” Sal asked conversationally as they made their way to the big SUV Lucy preferred to drive.

“You don’t sleep,” Tommy retorted testily.

Sal sighed, and Tommy didn’t have to look to know he was pinching the bridge of his nose. “He got car keys? Gerrard’s got a few on his cleanup crew that’ll notice if there’s more cars than bodies.”

Damn it. That was a good point. “Fuck, I don’t know. He was talking to a friend or a roommate earlier; they might have come together, but I don’t know. Lucy, can you…?” He shifted Evan in his arms, holding him so that Lucy could rifle through his pockets. After a moment, she came up with a peeling leather keychain, on which dangled a couple of keys, one with the Jeep logo emblazoned on it. Sal snatched the keys and shot Tommy a look.

“I’ll go check where the staff was parking. If I don’t find anything, I’ll make my own way home. We are talking about this later, Tommy boy.”

“Expected nothing less,” Tommy sighed, and then frowned. “I’m taking him to the apartments, though, not the main house.” Sal looked surprised, but just nodded and loped off towards the end of the estate opposite the gardens, where presumably all of Gerrard’s victims had been told to park for the night. “You drive, Luce. I’m gonna have to handle him if he wakes up before we get home.”

Lucy’s eyebrows climbed towards her hairline, but she didn’t question him further, just hurrying along to the SUV and unlocking it with a quick chirp from the key fob. He clambered into the backseat with Evan and spent an awkward few moments trying to sort of lean him comfortably against the window in the seat before giving up with a groan and just pulling the kid back against his chest.

“I’m biting my tongue so hard I’m tasting blood, Kinard. I just want you to know that,” Lucy said from the driver’s seat, staring at him in the rearview mirror. “Also, just how much handling does one half-drained frat boy need? Not that I’m judging you. Much.”

Tommy glared at her half-heartedly, before turning his attention out the window, restlessly scanning their surroundings for any of Gerrard’s people. The SUV’s tinted windows—darkest UV blocking glass they were legally allowed to have in California, of course—should keep them safe from any prying eyes, but he didn’t fully relax until Lucy had pulled them out of Gerrard’s compound and they were out on the highway.

Evan showed no signs of waking, and Tommy took the opportunity to finally take a (metaphorical) breath and really consider just what the fuck he had done. He’d gotten the witch out of Gerrard’s territory…but now what? The kid had already proven he was dangerous. If it had been anyone else in that parlor apart from Tommy or Gerrard himself, he had no doubt Evan would have been able to escape.

He also had no doubt that Evan would not have been able to get off the estate. Against maybe a handful of younger vampires? Probably he’d have been fine. Against dozens and dozens of representatives of every coven in the greater Los Angeles metropolitan area? He might have taken a lot of them out with him, but eventually he would have been overwhelmed by sheer numbers. But the fact remained that bringing him home was dangerous. It was stupid. He'd accomplished what he’d set out to do—which was get the witch away from Gerrard. The smart thing to do would be to have Lucy drive to the nearest hospital, use the thrall to blur Evan’s memories enough that he wouldn’t be able to identify Tommy, and leave him on a bench near the ER doors.

What was he thinking?

He wasn’t, that was the problem. He’d been riding on instinct from the moment he’d watched Evan burn Gerrard’s turn to ash…and his instincts were insisting he not let the witch out of his sight.

Tommy had not survived for eight hundred fucking years by ignoring his instincts.

A faint tremor ran through Evan’s body, a small grimace twisting his face. The delicate skin of his eyelids twitched and trembled, his eyes moving restlessly back and forth as though he was dreaming. With a soft sigh, he turned further into Tommy’s chest, his forehead brushing the skin of Tommy’s neck. The kid was ice cold—especially compared to the warmth that had been radiating off him before. Well shit, of course he was. He was a few pints of blood lighter and he’d been fighting for his life with his magic. He was probably going into shock. Fuck…he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had to worry about a human’s welfare. The only one he spent any real amount of time with was Lucy’s girlfriend—and not only did Lena decidedly not need Tommy fussing over her, she would be one of them soon enough (Lucy had already asked, and Alonzo had consented…but Lena’s mother was in the final stages of a long battle with cancer and she didn’t want to abandon her human life before her mother passed).

He twisted in his seat, searching through the multitude of things that had been tossed into the third row until he found a jacket he vaguely remembered seeing Ravi wear a few times crumpled up under some random books and an umbrella. He snatched it up and turned back to drape it over Evan, drawing another long look from Lucy in the rearview mirror. He sighed heavily.

“He’s a witch, Lucy,” he said without preamble.

Lucy did not slam on the brakes in shock. But the SUV did swerve a little. An angry horn blared behind them, and Lucy rolled her window down to stick her hand out and flip them the bird.

“Tommy, what the fuck? Are you sure?”

“He burned one of Gerrard’s turns to ash with a spell. Tried to flatten me like a pancake. And I could barely hold him in the thrall. So yeah, pretty sure.”

“What the hell is a witch doing at a vampire coven gathering?”

Tommy shrugged one shoulder, massaging his temple lightly. Sal insisted that they couldn’t get headaches anymore, but Tommy called bullshit. “Tending bar,” he said. “I don’t think he realized what kind of party he was working until it was too late.”

“His familiar let him walk into a den of vampires?” Lucy asked in disbelief. “Wait…where is the familiar?”

Another shrug. “I don’t think he has one. Like you said, no way it would have let him walk into Gerrard’s place. And there was nothing helping him when he was attacked. Even if his familiar was a damn fly, it would have tried to do something.”

“Is that—I mean, the only witch I know is Chimney, but—isn’t that…kind of weird for a witch his age?”

It was fucking bizarre is what it was. A bond with a familiar was considered part of becoming an adult among witches. Most were bonded with a familiar by fifteen or sixteen, sometimes earlier. But hardly ever later. Familiars helped witches regulate and control their power as they became fully functioning members of their covens. Granted, Tommy wasn’t exactly sure how a familiar was chosen for a witch. He would cautiously say that he and Howie were friends, but it wasn’t like they regularly traded coven secrets, and Howie had never offered up the story of how he’d come to be bonded with the wrinkly-faced bat that clung to his clothes and fluttered around his head constantly.

“It’s not normal, no,” he allowed eventually.

“Okay…okay, so I see why you took him out of Gerrard’s. No way in hell you could leave him there. But what are you planning to do with him?” she asked carefully. Too carefully.

“Lucy,” he said warningly.

“Kinard,” she replied in exactly the same tone. Then she sighed heavily. “You know we have to consider how much of an advantage this could be. You already drank from him!”

He shifted, unconsciously tightening the arm he had around Evan’s shoulders. To keep him from tipping all over the place, of course. The power of the witch’s blood still coursed through him, and would for several days…maybe even a few weeks. Tommy was already stronger and faster than anyone else in the coven, was stronger and faster than almost any other vampire in this part of California, but right now? He was fucking untouchable. Lucy was right…having access to Evan’s blood regularly would be an incredible advantage for the coven. Even if they limited who drank from him and let the younger members of the coven drink from those people regularly, the strength of the coven would increase tenfold. He knew why Lucy had to put the thought out there.

Alonzo’s coven was well-respected and well-liked. But they did not have the sheer power that was required to be politically important in their world. Tommy’s presence in the coven was the source of a lot of what political clout they did have. Even with their relatively small numbers, there weren’t many covens who were willing to anger a vampire who was close to measuring his age in millennia rather than centuries. Alonzo and Sal were decently powerful in their own right—both of them having been turned sometime during the early Renaissance—but apart from them the rest of the coven were all under two hundred years old. Most of them had been turned in the last century.

But no witch would willingly let themselves be used like that by a vampire coven.

Witch and vampire covens had an uneasy truce. In places like LA, with large populations of both, interaction was necessary to preserve the secret of their existence from the even larger human populations. That was how he’d come to know Howard Han. He and Howie had known each other for going on ten years, had spoken often in both official and unofficial capacities. He considered Howie a friend, and knew Howie felt the same. But they had never been to each other’s territory. Never been alone together. Every meeting he’d ever had with Howie had been conducted in a public place, or on carefully agreed upon and regulated neutral territory.

If the coven were to utilize Evan’s blood, they would have to force him.

Keep him locked up somewhere. Neutralize his ability to cast spells. Keep him a secret from every other witch and vampire in the city. And the worst part was, he knew Alonzo would consider it. Gerrard had been expanding his powerbase in LA for decades, and the very real possibility he would enter into a formal alliance with Ortiz had every coven not formally aligned with him on edge. The situation was becoming precarious enough that he knew Alonzo was considering if it was even worth it to stay in California anymore.

He hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d told Evan what Gerrard would do to him back at the mansion. Gerrard’s solution would be to slice out Evan’s tongue and keep him chained in the basement of his most heavily fortified property and he would do it in a heartbeat.

Tommy had done unsavory things in the name of survival before. He no longer had to kill when he hunted, but there were hundreds, if not thousands of deaths under his belt in that pursuit. And that was just the hunting. Tommy had done many cruel, vicious things—in the name of survival or revenge or protecting something he valued or just because. The idea that he could be as old as he was with clean hands and a clean conscience was laughable. He certainly didn’t care that the other members of his coven still killed when they hunted, and far more frequently than he needed to. Tommy was no stranger to cruelty. It was true, though, that in general, Alonzo’s coven refrained from the worst excesses of their kind. That was what he liked about them, what had spurred him to join, and why he stayed.

The thought of doing anything the way Gerrard would turned Tommy’s stomach.

But it was one person—one stranger—held up against safety and protection for his entire coven.

“Tommy?” Lucy said again, and he shook his head.

“I don’t have a plan, Luce,” he said. “I wasn’t thinking beyond making sure Gerrard didn’t get ahold of him.”

“Well, you need to figure that the fuck out!”

“I know! Okay? I know. Look, just…just get us to the apartments. I’ll call Alonzo as soon as you’re gone and, I dunno, I’ll just see what he has to say.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa…who said I was leaving?” She turned fully in her seat to glare at him, and he smacked the back of her headrest.

“Eyes on the road!” he snapped. “Fuck. And I said you’re leaving. Did you miss the part where I said this kid burned one of Gerrard’s turns to ash? Why do you think we’re not going back to the compound?”

“He’s thralled, it’s fine!”

“Lucy,” he said firmly. “No. I’ve never actually had someone fight me like that, I don’t know how long I can hold him.”

“So gag him,” she shrugged.

“Right, because waking up like that’s gonna inspire him to listen to me calmly and objectively.”

Another glare in the rearview mirror, this one suspicious. “Why do you need him to listen to you calmly and objectively?” she asked warily. “Tommy—we can’t let him go, you understand that right? Doesn’t matter what reason you had…and let me guess, someone caught you trying to sneak him out? It still doesn’t matter. You drank from a witch, completely unsanctioned. His coven could demand your fucking head. Even if by some miracle they accepted that you were trying to save him, the SoCal high coven has been trying to find a way to drive you and Gerrard out of LA for years. They hate having vampires as powerful as you in their territory.”

“I. Know,” he gritted out, although in truth he hadn’t been thinking anywhere near that far ahead. He’d just known he had to get Evan out of that mansion. Besides…if what he’d seen when he drank from Evan was accurate (and he still wasn’t sure it was…experiencing flashes and fragments of memories and emotions wasn’t unusual when drinking from a thralled victim, but he’d never seen anything that complete, that solid), the witch covens in the area might not respond for Evan the way Lucy thought they would.

“Okay, well, then what the fuck is the plan? Cause if you can’t answer that, we’re going to have to kill him. Tonight. Fuck, right now!”

“We’re not killing him.” The words were out of his mouth before he even realized he was going to say them. Lucy turned to look at him again, shock plain on her face. The SUV drifted in its lane and another horn blared at them. Tommy rubbed a hand down his face, taking a deep, unneeded breath. “I am very aware of just how precarious the situation is, okay? But I don’t want to kill him unless we have to.”

It was strange, actually, how very much he didn’t want to kill the witch. If his position was reversed with Lucy or Sal, he’d be questioning if Evan had somehow cast a spell on them. But his instincts were screaming at him. Screaming. He had to listen.

“Tommy,” Lucy said softly, and when he looked at her face in the mirror, she was biting her lip, a worried frown wrinkling her forehead.

Without a word, he reached forward and laid a hand on her shoulder. Blindly, she grabbed it, rubbing her cheek against his knuckles. Lucy was not his turn. He hadn’t made her. But the one who had had completely abandoned her to her new life, cutting her loose only days after she’d risen. Tommy had been the one who found her, half-feral and on the verge of being declared for extermination by the local covens. He’d been the one who helped her regain her control, herself. He hadn’t made her, but neither of them really made that distinction anymore.

“Luce, do you trust me?” he asked softly.

“You know I do. More than anyone.”

“Then trust me. I’ll figure this out.”

Lucy swallowed convulsively but gave a sharp nod. She squeezed his hand one more time, and then let it go to concentrate on driving. They spent the rest of the drive in silence, until Lucy eventually guided the SUV into the underground parking garage of the apartment building Alonzo had acquired as a coven safehouse a few years ago. They’d gone to great pains to bury its ownership under multiple shell companies and shadow investors, and even occasionally rented out units in it to preserve the fiction. At the moment, it was completely empty.

The perfect place to bring what was essentially a ticking timebomb. It wasn’t like Tommy didn’t have the funds to buy the coven a hundred more apartment buildings if this went badly and Evan ended up burning the place to the ground. The witch was still deeply unconscious, but a little bit of color had come back to his face as Tommy gathered him up again and slid out of the backseat. His breathing and heartbeat were steady enough that Tommy wasn’t worried.

Lucy insisted on following him up to one of the loft apartments they kept furnished with the basics, dithering by the door while Tommy carried Evan up to the second floor and laid him down on the bed far more gently than was strictly necessary. He hesitated briefly, then mentally threw up his hands and made quick work of removing the witch’s shoes and belt. He searched briefly through his pockets, just to remove anything that might be uncomfortable to lie on, and came up with only his wallet and a pack of gum. He debated only a few seconds before flipping the wallet open, his eyebrow climbing when the driver’s license in the first plastic sleeve read EVAN DANIELS. That was weird…the kid had said his last name was Buckley when Tommy questioned him back at the mansion.

“Hey, Sal just texted! The keys matched an old Jeep in the staff parking area…what do you want him to do with it?” Lucy called up the stairs, breaking him out of his thoughts. He looked down at Evan again and closed the wallet, setting it down on the nightstand in easy reach.

“Have him bring it here,” he called back.

“Oh, so Sal gets to stay?” Lucy grumbled but didn’t try to argue further. Tommy rested his hands on his hips, drumming his fingers on his belt as he tried to think ahead for perhaps the first time tonight.

“Hey, Josh still does a lot of hacking doesn’t he?” he asked, going to the top of the stairs and looking down at Lucy. She looked up from her phone, a distinctly unimpressed look on her face.

“His literal job for Alonzo is erasing the coven’s digital footprint and keeping our finances straight, so, uh, yeah.”

“Think he could find out some coven information discreetly?”

Lucy’s eyes narrowed. “I’m guessing we’re talking witch covens, not vampire. Ugh. I can ask…but if he thinks we’d trigger something, he’s not doing it.”

“No, yeah, no, that’s fair. Just…see if he can find out anything about an Evan Buckley.”

“That’s not a very unique name—do you have any other details, or are we just looking for what we can dig up in LA?”

Tommy thought back to the strange…vision or dream or whatever. “No, no he can’t be from California.”

Lucy’s glare turned disbelieving. “You want Josh to go fishing through coven records for a name like Buckley and the only geographical distinction is ‘not California’?”

Okay, when she said it like that…

“I think…I think he was banished,” Tommy admitted after a moment. “Probably a few years ago.”

“Banished,” Lucy repeated slowly. “A few years ago? But you said he was casting spells?”

“I know. I—I might be wrong. But there’s something weird going on here.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Lucy muttered darkly. “Fine. Evan Buckley, banished from anywhere in the United States except California…you do think he’s American, right?”

“I mean, if he’s not he does a really decent accent,” Tommy said with a shrug.

“You’re giving me ulcers, Kinard!”

He smirked at her, spreading his hands in a placating gesture. “They’ll heal. Now get out of here. See what Josh can find, if anything, and text me later.”

At that, the irritation melted off Lucy’s face, and she stabbed a finger towards him, her expression deadly serious. “Stay safe, okay?”

“You know me Luce. I’m hard to kill.”

She didn’t look entirely convinced, but she nodded, and turned to leave. Tommy watched the door close and the deadbolt engage with a solid thunk, and then he was alone. With a witch. Who he had bitten without permission and kidnapped, and who had already demonstrated a complete willingness to try and kill him. And who he absolutely was not going to be able to let go when he woke up, regardless of whether or not he particularly wanted to.

Right. What could possibly go wrong?

#911 abc #911 tv show #evan buckley #mywriting #evan buck buckley #buck x tommy #tommy kinard #shameless self promotion #911 fic #911 on abc #kinley #tevan #firepilot #bucktommy fanfic

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stusbunker · 1 year ago

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Spotless: Measure

Chapter Two

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader

Word Count: 1866

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, band dynamics past and current, buried feelings, mild drug use, unbeta'd

Series Masterlist

Divider courtesy of @cafekitsune

Dean pocketed his keys and grabbed his coffee off the roof of the impala. Sam was already halfway to the studio entrance sipping on his green smoothie and all together being the energetic morning person that he annoyingly was. They had been at it until after midnight, but were back before their usual ten o’clock start time. Dean knew it’d be another grueling day, but at least he was just working out the final few songs and not screaming himself hoarse in the box again. Yet.

Dean followed Sam inside Trust No One Studios, a rundown building off the highway that wouldn’t look like much if the owner wasn’t a paranoid security stickler. The parking lot and the entrances were all covered by cameras. They fobbed their way into the main entrance and nodded at the day guard, Ronald, who waved them through the metal detectors. He was a fan, but had kept a lid on it since Sam had snapped on him during their third album.

“Thanks, Ronnie,” Dean muttered, voice still raw.

“Good luck in there,” Ronald replied, but only to Dean.

Sam rolled his eyes and huffed off down the hall towards the basement steps. Dean trailed after his brother and bandmate to the largest recording room Frank had to offer. The Leviathan Level held two studios, but they were going deeper, to the bottom level, dubbed Purgatory, and its nearly grade-school-auditorium’s worth of space.

They meet another guard at the bottom of the steps, but just flashed their lanyards at him to continue on toward Ash’s domain.

Ash had been engineering their sound since the beginning. In fact, Dean wasn’t sure he had any other legit sources of income besides whatever residuals he earned off their soon-to-be five albums. But he wasn’t about to ask him either. Ash was a weird dude, wicked smart, but weird.

The control room still smelled vaguely of pot when they entered, but no one cared. Sam walked straight through to the door to the main part of the studio to start his warm ups. Dean dropped into one of the chairs at the dials and finished his coffee. He knuckled one eye as he watched the clock on the wall, wondering who would be the next to arrive. He didn’t want to call Lee and wake his ass up to get back to it, but he would if the rest of the band weren’t ready to play by ten.

As he toyed with the lip of his gas station coffee cup lid, Dean’s phone buzzed with an incoming text to one of the many group chats the band had. The name ‘Trouble’ was Dean’s hint that it was actually work talk.

>>>Don’t forget to take pictures! Or I’ll come down there and get them myself.

Which was a blatant bluff on your part and Dean knew it. Frank and Ronnie both gave you the creeps. Plus, you liked to hear the finished product in its entirety, which he kind of loved about you.

<<<Not it

Dean replied before anyone else and repocketed his phone unwilling to figure out just who would be getting the candids for your next social media blitz. He had too much to worry about as it was. He pulled out his notebook he kept in his back pocket with song ideas. The bridge to ‘Pushing Through’ was giving him problems and he wanted to rework the lyrics a bit.

This had been a hard album, both in getting the band to come together and make it happen and how much he was pouring into each song. Without Cas, Dean’s whole process was off and instead of asking the new kid or, hell, even Sam for help, he decided he needed to write most of it single handedly. Call it penance or a martyr complex, Dean had made his bed and he was going to lie in it.

Late night phone calls and hours on the road

My worst mistake wasn’t fightin’

It was having all this guilt that never showed

When you said I was getting frightenin’

I just pushed through

Late night phone calls and hours on the road

My worst mistake wasn’t fightin’

It was holding back this love I never told

Then I see your eyes filled with lightin’

You pushed me through (strike through)

You pulled me through

Dean didn’t realize Kevin had come in until he heard the keyboard join in on Sam’s scales. He looked back at what he’d adjusted and hummed to himself. This wasn’t a song he’d have written even two years ago. It was a fuckin’ love song for one and it put the spotlight on the last year and a half of his mistakes. He almost didn’t want to ruin it by putting it out there for the world to see. But they needed twelve and it was the closest to finished he had.

For the band and this deadline, Dean could be brave.

Pamela strolled in and slumped against Dean’s shoulders, somewhere between a hug and using him as a pillow. He chuckled and patted her head as he flipped to the next song on his list.

“Where’s your husband?” Dean asked off-handedly, knowing Lee couldn’t be far.

“Ex-husband,” Pamela grumbled.

“Sure.” Dean honestly couldn’t keep track anymore. Pam and Lee had been married to each other at least twice and shared one kid, two houses and three dogs between them.

“He’s dropping Gibson off at his mom’s, nanny needed a day off,” Pamela explained and Dean could feel the glare she was giving him.

“Well, isn’t that nice of you.” Dean gave her a fake smile.

“I know. A thoughtful employer— in this economy?” Pamela snarked and picked up Dean's coffee, frustrated when she found it empty. “Ugh! Okay, well, I’m gonna go stretch— maybe I can talk that brother of yours into some yoga before we get going.”

“You are such a creeper.”

“Sammy’s a big boy, Dean.”

“I don’t want to know.”

Pamela shook her head and slinked off to join Kevin and Sam.

“Take some pictures— cuz I aint!”

Pamela glanced back at Dean and winked while pressing an imaginary shutter button. Dean stood suddenly and chased her into the live room until she squealed and hid behind Sam. Her tiny frame dwarfed behind Sam’s, Dean relented, smiling genuinely for the first time that day.

Dean grabbed his acoustic and strummed, pacing around as he muttered his amended lyrics under his breath. Lee and Bobby made it in just after ten. Luckily, Sam and Pam already had enough of their bending competition, which kept Lee from getting pissy about it. Just as Dean and Lee were going over the chord progressions on ‘Rupture’, Ash strolled into the control room and started hooting into the intercom that it’s time to roll.

“Fucking finally,” Dean grunted and ducked out of his strap. They did things as they came, but bass and drums always were put down first, so he, Lee and Kevin hung back until they were needed.

“Alright, ya idjits. Show me what ya got,” Bobby ordered from his seat beside Ash.

So they did.

Lunch showed up just after two. And, naturally, Dean devoured his sub as quickly as he could, which was when Pamela decided to remember to take pictures for their socials.

Dean rolled his eyes and licked his lips, chewing as the lettuce and mayo collected at the corners. If his hands weren’t full, she would have gotten the bird, but priorities, you know?

“Gross,” Sam replied, laughing.

“Don’t worry, grumpy, I’ll get your good side too,” Pamela teased.

“I’m sure you will,” Sam muttered and cracked open his bottle of water.

Lee balled up his napkin and threw it across the table at Kevin who apparently had been still snapping pictures. “Save it for the session, newbie,” he grunted.

Dean glanced across the room to where Ash and Bobby were talking, both more serious than the last few hours justified. He met Bobby’s eye and held it, knowing he’d find out sooner or later what had the old man extra bristled.

They finished their food and relaxed for another few minutes; they had a good handle on the tracks they were working out. But that still meant hours more until they were tight and Ash had everything he wanted. Even then, Dean made them do more takes, just to be sure. He was a perfectionist, like his father before him, and Phantom Traveler had gotten to where they were with that driving force leading the way.

Sam was the one to rein Dean in. “Look, man, that was it. We had it three rounds ago. I’m beat.”

“Ash?” Dean called back into the control room, not willing to be outvoted without certainty.

“It’s all gravy on my end, Dean-o.”

“Pam?” Dean asked his drummer and part-time mindreader.

“Kevin and Sam can clear out, I think we can hit that intro harder.”

Dean looked at Lee, who sighed, because he knew Pam was right and Dean was just letting her be the bad guy.

“Alright, from the top!” Dean called out and Pamela quickly counted them in.

Sam and Kevin stayed to listen, sipping water and slumped into any free space they could find behind their gear. Sam was stuck, Dean was always his ride. But the kid could duck out whenever he wanted. The fact that Kevin stayed solidified Dean’s faith that he was going to work out. Without Cas, it had been weird. Well, first it was awful, but now that they were here, back making music, what they did best, it was an adjustment.

But Kevin had stepped up and Dean couldn’t deny he was grateful.

No one could fill Cas’ place in the band. But the kid had good hands and on top of that he sang, filling out their harmonies with a higher range. Something Cas never did. So, yeah, it was still weird. But if Dean had learned anything living in California, it was that weird didn’t mean bad.

They tackled the intro until Dean was sick of it. And Lee and Pam both were giving him the stink eye. One final check in with Bobby and Ash and Dean released them for the night.

“Alright, I don’t want to see your faces until Monday at ten,” Bobby explained. “Take the weekend off. Be stupid, but save your voices and your fingers.”

“Awww, he really does care,” Dean snarked, throwing a ball cap over his sweat-damp hair.

Bobby glared. “You’re no good to me sounding like my great aunt Ethel, jackass.”

Kevin laughed and everyone held their breath, impressed and surprised by him openly mocking Dean. But Lee couldn’t hold it in and started laughing too. And by the time Ash and Sam were in on it, Dean was crossing his arms and murdering them all with a look. Pam slinked her arm over his shoulders and patted his back condescendingly.

“I hate you all,” Dean muttered. Eventually he dropped the dramatics before looking over at Sam. “Let’s get outta here already.”

“Yeah, already,” Sam agreed, shaking his head and following Dean back out to the parking lot.

Tagging: @deans-spinster-witch @mrswhozeewhatsis @cosicas-cuquis @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @suckitands33 @ladysparkles78 @deans-baby-momma @stoneyggirl2 @sassy-pelican

Chapter Three: Rest

#dean winchester fanfiction #dean/reader #rockstar au #fake dating au #angst with a happy ending #rockstar!dean #dean winchester/reader #spn fanfic #spn au #spotless series

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fyonahmacnally · 1 year ago

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Keys to My Heart

“Hey, Alex.” Kara calls out as she walks into their shared apartment, a confused look on her face. She drops a small cardboard box onto the island in the kitchen and starts rummaging through it. “Look at all the things I found on the rooftop. It’s weird. It seems like something appears every day. I can’t figure out where it’s coming from. No one goes up there except for me. Well, except our friends when we have parties, but you know what I mean.”

The tell-tale crinkle makes its appearance on the blonde’s face as she continues to pick up each item. She fervently sifts through the rooftop haul mulling over the possible origins in her mind. Surely no one in their apartment building is dumping random objects onto their roof, right? She thinks. Nah, It can’t be on purpose. Why would someone put coins and keys up there? Oh, there’s even a ring! Someone has to be missing that, right? Right?!

Alex leans her head back to glance over the back of the couch into the kitchen to see what her sister is going on about. The redhead can see her sister pulling things out of a box with a very bewildered look on her face. When she sees some of the items strewn across the countertop, she can’t help but laugh. She can already tell this is going to be one of those conversations. She sighs and takes a deep breath before pushing up off the couch.

Kara’s incredibly intelligent. When it comes to science, languages, math, history, and almost any other academic topic, she is one of the smartest people around. However, the younger Danvers is sometimes lacking in the more practical knowledge that usually comes from interacting with the world and experimenting with boundaries as a teenager. Unfortunately, Kara didn’t really do any of those things. Her little sister led a pretty sheltered life in a remote country before her parents passed away when she was 12. Then, she was so traumatized when she was adopted that the Danvers may have been a bit over-protective. Yet another thing that didn’t do her any favors in collecting the ‘practical knowledge’ she needed to navigate the world.

“Whatcha got there, Kara?” Alex bemused, wondering what the blonde is going to respond with. “Are you collecting random things off the street? We don’t have much space in the apartment so you can’t go full hoarder on me.” She chuckles as the crinkle on her sister’s forehead gets more pronounced and her head tilts like a confused puppy.

Kara sighs, dropping her chin to her chest before raising her head and her brow at her sister. “Really, Alex? I just told you when I walked in that I found all of this on the roof. You know I’ve been going up there everyday for the past few weeks to feed the crows.” She grins at her sister as they stand side-by-side combing through the loot. She picks up a set of keys and the ring to present to her sister. “They like it when I feed them and I like spending time up there. Anyway, these two things seem to be the most valuable of the odds and ends I found. Someone is surely upset about missing their emerald ring, but the keys to a BMW? Pretty sure someone is outright pissed about that.”

Alex grabs the BMW key fob and key chain from her sister’s palm, looking at it for any kind of identifying information. “You know, you can take this to any BMW dealership and they can get it back to the owner. These fancy fobs store the car’s service information.” She sits the fob back on the counter and picks up the ring, inspecting it for engraving or some other identifier. “The ring is personalized too. You might be able to post online that you found it and that there is an inscription. The owner will know what the inscription is.”

“That’s a brilliant idea, Alex! You’re so smart.” Kara smiles and starts packing all the little trinkets back into her box. Midway through, she stops and looks at Alex again. “Where do you think this stuff came from? We never see anyone up there and I’ve never run into anybody when I feed the crows. Plus, there isn’t anyone that lives in our building that drives a car that fancy. I mean, maybe someone from one of the office buildings across the street, but how would it get on our roof?” She tilts her head to the side and furrows her brow in thought.

Alex has an internal debate about whether she should tell her sister about crows and their gifting behaviors. On the one hand, it would put an end to the ongoing confusion on her sister’s face. On the other hand, this could be so damn fun to watch. She’s in need of some good entertainment. Her life has been kind of empty since she and Maggie split. She grins, she can’t pass up this opportunity to mess with her sister.

“Odd. Not sure how those things would get on our rooftop. You sure there hasn’t been anyone else up there?” She watches her sister finish packing her little collection back into its box and drift off into thought. “I mean, sure you haven’t seen anyone, but that doesn’t mean someone hasn’t been up there. You said most of the stuff just started showing up this week, right?”

Kara nods her head. “Yeah, I haven’t noticed anything until this week. I fed the birds on my lunch break Monday then came back down to finish my afternoon at work. When I went back on Tuesday during my break, there were coins and shiny rocks. Today when I went up to feed them, I found the ring and key fob so I just grabbed everything.” She scratches her head and looks back at her sister. “You don’t think someone is stealing things and leaving them on our rooftop to come back later, do you? I mean, I don’t think that would be a very practical thief, but I can’t think of anything else.”

She does her best not to outright cackle at her sister, but she can’t hold back her laughter so she attempts to turn it into a cough that ends up sounding more like a combination of a horse and a pig. Trying to retain her composure, she clears her throat and slides her hands across her face to shield her amusement. “Why don’t you give it another week and see what happens? In the meantime, you can post the ring on Facebook in one of the neighborhood groups and walk over to the BMW dealership down the block to see if they can find the owner of the fob. Maybe by the end of the week, you’ll have it all figured out.”

The blonde smiles and slides the box off the counter to carry to her bedroom. “That’s a good idea, Alex. I’ll get this mystery solved one way or another!” Kara excitedly stomps off toward her bedroom as Alex just shakes her head in fondness at the adorable idiot.

“This is going to be fun to watch.” Alex giggles to herself and her sister practically skips down the hallway. She should probably feel guilty for entertaining herself at Kara’s expense and maybe she will, but right now, it’s just funny to watch. As brilliant as her sister is, she thought she would have read all about crows. Apparently her curiosities don’t extend to the birds she feeds everyday. Giggling again, she heads back over to the couch to resume her evening, looking forward to what the next week brings in her sister’s bird saga.

Lena is running late. Her morning started with a 6:00 a.m. phone call from a client she never wanted to represent in the first place much less speak with before she’s had her goddamn coffee. Then, Lillian shows up at 7:30, knocking on her door. They are supposed to be having lunch at The Italian Affair, a new restaurant that just opened downtown, but her mother felt the need to ‘check in on her’ via an unplanned house call for a reason she still hasn’t been able to decipher.

Now, she’s driving in downtown traffic trying to get to the office while sipping on a coffee that is definitively not what she ordered. She sighs, exasperated. She knew better than to stop at the chain store and not her normal little coffee shop. Checking her watch again, she groans, at this rate, she is not going to make her 9:30 meeting on time. A perfect way to top off her annoyingly frustrating Thursday.

She presses the call button on the steering wheel of her BMW M8, rolling her eyes at the traffic as she crawls through downtown. “Call Jess.” She speaks into the cabin of the car.

The line rings three times before her assistant’s voice fills the interior. “Luthor & Lane, LLP, this is Jessica speaking. How may I assist you?”

“Good morning, Jess.” Lena drawled. “Has Ms. Arias arrived yet? My morning was derailed by Mr. Langley and followed up with an unplanned visit from Lillian. Now, I’m stuck in traffic.”

Jess chuckles. “Sounds like your Thursday morning started with a bang, Miss Luthor.” Lena can hear papers shifting in the background before her assistant continues. “Ms. Arias hasn’t arrived yet, but I will put her in the small conference room if she arrives before you do.”

Lena lets out a sigh of relief. “Is there anything else I need to know? Did you confirm my reservations with Lillian for lunch today?” She glances around the car in front of her, hoping this traffic will suddenly vanish. At times like these, she wishes she had the ability to portal to places instead of driving.

“Your lunch reservation has been confirmed for 12:30.” Jess hums as she shuffles through the messages on her desk until she finds what she’s looking for. “Most of the messages can wait until you get into the office, but I did get a call from National City BMW earlier. Someone turned in your fob yesterday. I scheduled a courier to pick it up and drop it off this morning so you should have it by the time you arrive in the office.”

“Thank, fuck!” Lena huffed. “I still can’t figure out how in the hell they disappeared. Lucy and I were sitting on her balcony on Monday discussing a case. They were sitting on the table next to my laptop. We stepped inside to get food and when we came back, my keys were gone. We were inside for less than 10 minutes, Jess! How can they just disappear like that?!” She throws her hands into the air in frustration.

Jess laughs, she can imagine her boss with a scowl on her face and gesturing wildly inside her car. “At least someone found it. The gentlemen said all the other keys were still on the ring as well. Don’t forget to return the spare to the safe this afternoon in case you need me to bring it to you again.” She does her best to stifle the smile on her face, but is sure that her boss can hear it in her voice.

“Go ahead and laugh, Jess. I know you want to.” She jokes. “If it was you in the situation, I’m sure I would be laughing as well.” She shakes her head and smiles. The situation is amusing, even if it is still perplexing.

She finally arrives at the office with 5 minutes to spare before her 9:30. Fortunately, Ms. Arias was stuck in the same traffic as she was and hasn’t quite made it yet. She sweeps into her office in a whirlwind, dropping her bag next to her chair and plopping herself into it. Already exhausted and her day just started.

Lucy peeks her head around the corner into Lena’s office with a questioning look on her face. “You okay, Luthor? You seem a little…frazzled.” She makes her way inside her friend and business partner’s office, easing into the chair in front of her desk as if trying not to startle a cornered animal. “Jess said you had quite an eventful morning. She also said your fob got returned to the dealership. What’s the story there?”

Lena huffs and leans back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yes. My morning has been annoying. I still can’t figure out what Lillian’s angle was this morning. She rarely ever makes surprise visits unless she is scheming.” She groans and drops her head back into her plush leather chair. “I really hope she isn’t trying to set me up on another one of her well-intentioned blind dates again. You remember what happened last time.”

A loud and boisterous belly laugh erupts from Lucy’s small frame. She leans forward in her seat and slaps her thigh with amusement. “Oh, you mean the one with the guy that you said looked like Eddie Munster and Napoleon Dynamite had a baby? What was it you said he talked about the entire time?”

The mirth shining in Lucy’s eyes made her lips twitch up in a smile, but she did her best to hide it. Lena narrowed her eyes at her best friend and cocked her head to the side. “Well, that’s difficult to say, Lane. The first half of the meal was about his collection of troll dolls.” She rolls her eyes and glares at Lucy. “Then, he spent the rest of dessert going on about the appropriate temperature of the storage unit he keeps them in to prevent any moisture or condensation.”

Lucy laughs heartily, oblivious to her friend’s annoyance. “Yes, that’s the one! I cannot believe your mother thought you would be remotely interested in that guy. She has to know your type by now, Lena. All of the men and women you have dated are leagues different than that guy.” She shakes her head and dabs the tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes. “Speaking of, you never told me what she said when you called her out about that set-up?”

“Oh you know, the typical Lillian response of ‘he’s from a good family, dear’ and ‘he’s a little eccentric, but he’s nice’... the usual.” Lena throws her hands up in surrender. “I just want to meet someone who’s honest, fun, and a little nerdy. Is that too much to ask?” She sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose.

“People like that don’t just fall from the sky, Luthor. You actually have to go out and mingle in the real world for that to happen.” Lucy chuckles. “It’s not like a bird is going to pluck you for the sidewalk and drop you into their arms! Live a little, Luthor.”

A soft knock sounds on the open door to Lena’s office as Jess peeks her head inside. “Ms. Arias is waiting for you in conference room 2, Miss Luthor. Good morning, Miss Lane.” Lucy smiles and nods at Jess before taking her leave. “The file you need is on your desk underneath your messages. Would you like me to sit in on the meeting?”

Lena grabs the file and flips through it quickly before grabbing her coffee and promptly sitting it back down after remembering how terrible it was. “Yes, I would like you to sit in on the meeting, but can you get rid of that atrocious excuse for coffee and grab me some from the kitchen on your way?”

“Of course, Miss Luthor. I will be right behind you.” Jess smiles and quickly disappears as Lena takes a deep breath, heading to the conference room for her first meeting.

Kara sighs. It’s been a really long morning filled with nonstop work on a sci-fi novel from one of her newer clients. As much as she loves her work, she needs to take a break. She left a high paying corporate investigator job after she got burned out. Too many years of 60+ hours a week on top of her side job. She’d spent years doing proofreading, copy editing, and ghost writing on the side for extra money. After a while, it started bringing in more work than she could keep up with. After her burnout at her corporate gig, she decided she wanted something different. Here she is working from home, choosing her own clients, and making her own schedule. It’s nice.

Plus, she still picks up the occasional corporate investigation client too. Mostly work for attorneys. Well, one attorney, really. Lucy Lane. She and Lucy became friends when her cousin Clark started dating Lucy’s sister. They don’t see each other much, but they do text regularly and Lucy’s office is across the street from her apartment so when they work on a case together, it’s very convenient. That reminds her, she needs to check in with Lucy so she sends the brunette a text before she looks back at her computer screen with a huff of exhaustion.

She’s been working non-stop all day and her eyes are starting to feel crossed from staring at her screen for so long. She’s almost done with this manuscript so she’s been trying to power through until the end. The desire to get it back to her client before the end of the day has been driving her, but it seems her eyes have other plans. Leaning back in her chair, she groans as her back pops and cracks after being in the same position for hours.

“Okay. I need to take a break.” She says to her empty apartment. Shaking her head and laughing she pushes herself away from her desk. “And now I am talking to myself.” She swings by the kitchen to grab the leftover Italian food from the fridge and pop it into the microwave. Then she gathers the things she needs to feed the crows and sits it next to the door. Once she has everything she needs, she heads to the roof with her lunch to take a much needed break and to feed her new bird friends. She briefly wonders if she’ll find any random treasures up there today.

When she opens the door to the rooftop, she smiles. The sun is bright, the sky is a sparkling blue, and the little plants she brought up here give the area a nice little pop of color. There’s also a little table in the corner that has a little umbrella that she stashed up here. That’s where she heads to eat her lunch and enjoy the nice mild weather. She’s just barely finished her lunch and is basking in the sun's warm rays, when the first of the crows makes an appearance.

Kara smiles. She reaches down and grabs the food she brought for the birds and makes her way over to the edge of the building. For a moment, she just watches the majestic creature. Their eyes meet and Kara realizes how much intelligence the crow’s eyes hold. There is an understanding there that is almost startling. She holds her hand out, her palm filled with fruits, nuts, and vegetables. As many times as she has fed the creatures, she’s never offered it from her hand and she’s interested to see what happens. She can tell the bird is hesitant, but she’s got all the patience in the world.

Her patience pays off. The crow she has affectionately been calling Raven in her head slowly steps closer to her hand and quickly grabs a piece of fruit before hopping away to eat it. That happens several more times before more birds show up. A peel of laughter bubbles inside Kara’s chest and floats past her lips as the birds eat from her hand. She’s placed more food on the ledge of the building and just watches with wonder as they feast on the treats she brought. The blonde settles in to watch the interactions and antics of her new pals.

Lena is frustrated. This day has been trying her patience from the start. Her last client meeting ran 30 minutes longer than it should have and now she is running late to meet Lillian for lunch. One of the things her mother hates most is tardiness. Her relationship with Lillian hasn’t always been stellar, but they’ve managed to get along reasonably well since both Lionel and Lex are gone. That doesn’t mean Lillian’s snarky tendencies don’t still shine through at times. Of course that generally brings out her own snark and sarcasm - something Lillian has always frowned upon. It still occasionally gets a little nasty between them, but they’ve learned to rein it in over the years.

When she finally gets parked and makes her way into the restaurant, she can see the irritation all over her mother’s face. She pauses at the hostess station and takes a deep breath before making her way to the stoic woman. Pulling out her chair and taking her seat, she smiles across the table at her mother and apologizes for her tardiness. Surprisingly, there are no petty comments or snide remarks. That alone makes Lena feel uneasy.

They make it through the meal without any underhanded remarks or any snarkiness. It isn’t until Lillian is signing the receipt for their food that the real reason for her mother’s presence at her home this morning is finally revealed.

“So, are you seeing someone?” Lillian asks, a neutral look on her face. “Francois mentioned you have been coming home late a lot recently.”

Lena does her best to contain the urge to roll her eyes at her mother, but they have a mind of their own and she feels them nearly roll into the back of her head. She pinches the bridge of her nose for what feels like the 100th time today and sighs. “Mother, why are you talking to the doorman of my building about my comings and goings? No, you know what, I’m going to be filing a complaint. He has no business speaking to anyone about my private business.” She glares at her mother. “Including and especially you.”

A small gasp escapes Lillian as Lena rolls her eyes again at her mother’s feigned offense. “I’m just a concerned mother worried about her daughter’s well-being.” She places a hand on her chest for added effect, again causing Lena to roll her eyes. “Don’t take it out on Francois. He probably thought you talked to me more about your life.”

“Mother, stop being nosey and stop probing into my private life. I am not seeing anyone. I don’t need your help getting dates and I’m perfectly happy with my life.” She sighs and starts gathering her things to escape this personal inquiry before it turns sour. “In case you have forgotten, I co-own one of the most successful law firms in the city. I don’t have time for your meddling in my personal life. Now, if you will excuse me mother, I need to get back to work.”

They both stand and give their customary air cheek kisses before they part ways. Lena mumbles under her breath about her meddling mother the entire way back to her car and throughout the drive back to her office. She lets out a breath of relief when she parks in her space next to her office building. Finally, she can get some peace from her busybody, gossipy mother. Deep down, she knows that Lillian is trying to show that she cares, but there are so many other ways to go about it. Why she is suddenly focused on her love life is something she can’t figure out. At least she has escaped it for a few more days. She leans forward to press her now throbbing forehead onto her steering wheel and prepares herself for the rest of her busy day.

Grabbing her bag and her keys, she steps out into the glowing sun of the breezy afternoon. She wishes she could bask in the warmth of the rays for a bit before she steps back into her office, but work awaits. Locking her car, she steps onto the sidewalk heading to her office. Her phone starts ringing so she steps to the side and pauses at one of the benches along the sidewalk. Sitting her keys beside her bag, she fishes her phone out to see Lucy’s face staring back at her.

“Hey Luce, what’s up?” Lena says just as a black bird lands next to her bag on the bench. It startles her a bit, but she doesn’t think much about it. “I’m almost back in the office. I’m on the sidewalk out front.”

She barely gets those words out of her mouth before the creature staring at her from the bench snatches her keys and takes off. At first she is so stunned that she can’t speak. That quickly morphs into a tirade of profanities that has Lucy laughing.

“Lena, what the hell is going on?” Lucy chuckles again.

“Dammit, Lane. It’s not funny! A goddamn bird just flew off with my fucking keys!” Lena angrily spit back at her through the speaker. “I’ve gotta go. I think I know where the little thief went.”

Lucy was still laughing pretty hard on the other end of the phone. Lena just growled and hung up. She was pissed. It makes her wonder if this is how her keys disappeared on Monday. They were sitting outside on the patio table at Lucy’s apartment and the apartment wasn’t far from here. It would make sense if the little thief snatched them and flew to the building across the street. From the looks of it, there is a whole family of what appears to be crows hanging out up there. Regardless, Lena had to get her keys back.

She tosses her phone into her purse, zips it up, and secures it onto her shoulder. Preparing herself to march across the street and get her damn keys back from that thieving little bird. When she makes it across the road and into the lobby of the building, she finds the elevator out of order. Of course it is, she thinks. That’s par for the course on this shitty day. By the time she gets to the top floor, 6 flights of stairs later, she is out of breath and even more pissed than when she started.

Kara is having a blast feeding and interacting with the crows. They’re so much more intelligent than she imagined. She’s long since run out of food to give them, but they seem to be chatting amongst each other. It’s interesting to watch their social behavior and which ones seem to be the ‘leaders’ of the group. She’s just considering going back down to her apartment to get back to work when one of the crows lands on the ledge in front of her with something shiny in its beak.

“Whatcha got there, little fellow?” She coos at the bird. It seems to cock its head sideways in understanding and hops forward to drop the object in front of her. “Oh no. Oh no.” She gasps and looks around the roof. There are several more little gifts up here that weren’t here earlier. It suddenly clicks in her head. The crows have been bringing her ‘gifts’ for feeding them. And it appears they really like this set of keys since she is almost positive it is the same set she just returned yesterday.

She looks up at the bird still eyeing her. “Um, I do appreciate the presents, buddy. I promise, I do. But, uh, you probably shouldn’t steal people’s keys.” Kara bites her lip. She feels really bad, but has no idea what she is supposed to do about it. “I’m going to have to turn these keys in again and the dealership is either going to think the owner of them is irresponsible or I am some type of odd thief.”

Kara has just finished her one-sided conversation with the bird and is about to head downstairs to walk the keys back to the dealership when the door to the rooftop slams open. It’s so loud that it scares her and sends all the birds scattering into the air. She spins around. One hand flies up to her chest while the other darts out in front of her in some form of protection or surrender. She isn’t sure which. Either way, the keys are dangling from the middle finger of her outstretched hand.

Her eyes lock onto a pair of the most stunning and mesmerizing eyes she has ever seen. When she finally manages to shake herself from the hypnotizing depths, her own eyes scan over dark inky raven locks pulled back into a high ponytail, pale porcelain skin that seems to glimmer in the sunlight, a jawline that could cut glass, and a curvy, suit clad body. She’s suddenly drinking in absolutely the most ethereal, captivatingly gorgeous woman her eyes have ever had the privilege of seeing. Her brain screeches to a halt and all words promptly vacate the premises.

Lena throws the door open, her anger simmering under her skin like a snake ready to strike. This is just the icing on the cake of her shit day and she’s ready to fight. Well, she is until she makes eye contact with ocean blue eyes filled with sunshine and starlight. Her body is shocked into stillness. Her heart, previously racing with adrenaline and anger, starts racing for another reason entirely. Her mind starts drowning in the depths of those soulful pools of deep blue sea. Slowly, she shakes herself free from the gaze as her eyes track up to loose blond curls, then back down to full, pouty pink lips, strong broad shoulders, to what appears to be her keys sitting on long tanned fingers, and further to muscular, jean-clad thighs. This is certainly one of the most handsome women she’s ever laid eyes on and she suddenly forgets what she came here for.

Eventually, Kara’s brain seems to unscramble itself and she clears her throat. Keeping her hands up in what she hopes is a peaceful gesture, she takes a step toward the mystery woman. “H-Hi. I’m, um, Kara. K-Kara Danvers. I’ve never seen you in the building before. Do you, uh, live here?” She glances around, suddenly feeling incredibly nervous. “I’ve, um, met most of the people in the building before and uh, I w-would have remembered m-meeting you. I’m sure of that. Y-You’re v-very p-pretty.” She snaps her mouth shut and can feel her cheeks burning as she lowers her eyes and starts to fidget with her hands.

That’s when she remembers the keys in her hand. “Oh. I need to take these to the dealership again.” She says, removing the key ring from her finger and moving to put them in her pocket. “I’m sorry. You didn’t need to know that.” She chuckles nervously, feeling the heat climb up her neck.

A smile crawls across Lena’s face. This woman, Kara, is adorable. She can’t help but be enamored with this incredibly cute and undeniably attractive blonde. “I’m Lena. Lena Luthor.” She steps closer, continuing until she’s roughly two feet in front of the endearing stranger. “And I am pretty sure those are my keys.” She chuckles and points at the hand that is now fidgeting with the dangling keys.

“Oh! OH!” Kara says and turns her hand over to offer the object to Lena. “The, uh, the crows brought them to me.” She points over her shoulder to the empty rooftop behind her.

Lena laughs, takes her keys, and nods her head. “Yes, I know. The little bastard stole them right off the bench across the street when I was trying to grab my phone.” She dips her head down to gather herself, trying to will herself not to blush from the simple brush of their skin in the exchange of the keys. Raising her eyes back to the blonde, she smiles in amusement. “I’m guessing this is the second time my keys have made it up here? You’re the one that returned them yesterday?”

“Um, yes. That was me.” Kara giggles, this was not what she expected to happen today. A gorgeous stranger whose laugh makes her soul smile, whose eyes make her heart dance. “I’m sorry my little crow buddies keep taking your keys. I didn’t even know they would do things like that until today.”

“Yes, they are incredibly smart animals. I’ve watched a few documentaries about them. They’re pretty fascinating.” Lena blushes again. She internally face-palms. Why is she saying things like this?! Get a grip, Luthor. You know how to talk to pretty women without being a complete dope. “Sorry. I watch a lot of documentaries. I’m a big nerd at heart.”

Kara beams, a giant toothy grin. “I love documentaries! I’m a big nerd too. We should watch something together sometime and compare notes.” She snaps her jaw closed again and feels the heat claw its way up her chest, her neck, and onto her cheeks. She drops her head and stuffs her hands into her back pockets before swallowing hard and forcing her eyes back up. “I mean, if that’s something that you’d like. You don’t really know me and I realize that might seem kind of weird so feel free to just ignore that if you, um, want to.”

Before Lena can stop herself, she is reaching on to place her hand on Kara’s bicep. She bites her bottom lip when she feels the bulk of the muscle under her palm. She quickly shakes her head and removes her hand. “It’s okay, Kara.” She clears her throat and smiles, feeling her cheeks heating again. “I think I’d like to compare notes sometime.”

She glances at her watch and curses internally. “Unfortunately, I have to get back to work right now since I found my keys.” She jingles her keys and drops them into the purse as she digs out one of her business cards and passes it over to Kara. “But, I’d definitely be okay with you calling to set something up.”

The blonde's eyes go wide as she takes the card and glances down at it. A small gasp escapes, her eyes bouncing between the card and Lena several times before a toothy, lopsided grin fixes itself on her face. “You’re Lucy’s business partner!”

Lena tilts her head and raises a brow in question. “Indeed, I am. She’s also my best friend. Do you know Lucy?” It would be just her luck that she meets this gorgeous woman and she’s already had an entanglement with her best friend. That would track perfectly with the days she’s had. “I don’t remember ever meeting you before. I’m sure I would remember you.”

“Lucy and I have known each other for years. Her sister is married to my cousin, Clark.” She smiles at Lena. “Plus, I’ve done some work for her on a few corporate cases. I used to be a corporate investigator with Jones Investigative Services. I still do some contract work for her occasionally. To be honest, I am surprised we haven’t met before now.”

The raven haired attorney is stunned. She’s heard Lucy talk about Kara, but never knew her last name or saw a picture. While Lena and Lucy have known each other since law school, they never really spent much time around each other’s family by design. They both have complicated relationships with their families and liked that they could commiserate about it with each other while keeping it separate. Now she’s mad at Lucy for keeping this beautiful woman from her for so long.

“I’m surprised we haven’t met before either. I’ll have to give Lucy a hard time about that.” She winks at the blonde and steps back toward the door. “I really do have to get back to work though. I hope this isn’t the last time we talk.”

“I hope not either.” Kara says as she watches Lena disappear down the stairs and fixes her eyes on the business card in her hand.

#supercorp #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers #supercorp fanfic #romcom #romantic comedy #meet cute #fanfiction writer #fanfic writing #supercorp fanfiction #supergirl fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #writer #writers on tumblr

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the-eternal-quest-for-balance · 5 months ago

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Democrat election tampering and fraud in Arizona in another election cycle. Involving the Feds ? Smart money would bet Feds.

How absolutely predictable.

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pendragonfics · 2 years ago

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Contrast

Paring: Victor Creed/Reader

Tags: gender neutral reader & GN pronouns, fights, conflict resolution, romantic fluff, triggers: alcohol abuse/alcholism and thunderstorms

Summary: After a tiff with Victor, Reader spends the night on the couch. It isn't until a storm comes over the farmhouse that they realise they need to be closer to him.

Word Count: 2070

Current Date: 2023-01-11

The hissing almost swallows his words beneath the just-pulled beer tab, but you catch it. It’s hard not to, as he barely opens his jaw these days to utter inhuman noises. You stare at Victor and wait for one of you to give way. The argument would not be made if he had listened to you, yet here you are.

His eyes are primal as he looks over the can, piercing your gaze.

“What?” he snaps.

“It’s nothing,” you retort. “If you even care.”

If you had dreamed that perhaps you’d be talking back to the Sabretooth himself a few years ago, you would have thought you were unwise, let alone asking for a shorter life span. Maybe that might be anyone else, but sometimes you could manage it. Not many people were this close to the man. Not many people shared this much with Victor Creed, yet you were still one of those he clashed with, albeit with his claws withdrawn.

“I’m too tired for this shit.” He barks.

“And I’m trying to communicate with a brick wall.” You throw your hands up in exhaustion and push your chair back to rise from the table. “But at least the wall would have something to say for itself!”

“Are you calling me an idiot, __________?” The can finds the table forcefully, making a harsh noise as it connects with the surface.

You can smell the drink wafting from his hot breath, yet you’re not in that proximity to your partner. It’s days like this when the liquor finds him that sets you off. It may wet his lips, but the stench of hops, of the acidic sting of bourbon that takes you back to the years of your childhood, when your lack of autonomy and the adults partaking would result disastrously for you.

“Stop putting words in my mouth!” You ball your fists, squint your eyes, and hold yourself in a tight embrace.

He grunts in response, but you feel your jaw tremor as sobs ricochet from your belly to the room. You can’t see well through the sting of tears, and stumbling backwards, you rush for the door. You’re smart enough to snatch the key fob and click the front door behind you. You don’t hear footsteps following, and you cross the snowy paddock to the detached garage.

Years ago, when you were shorter, younger, and impressionable, you lived under your father's roof. He was newly widowed, and with the agony of sadness that made its way into his heart, he drowned himself in the golden water from bars and bottle shops. You learned to take care of yourself young and distrust the drink. It left your father, a kind, intelligent, loving man, a vacant lot where once a palace stood.

Sometimes he was loud. More often, he was violent.

One night, you ran from him and slipped into a snowbank at the lake near your house. You should have died. Somehow, you breathed the water and stayed dry despite being submerged. A neighbour clearing snow found you the following day, head above the ice and fully clothed, alive.

You stare at the keys and realise you snatched the wrong set. Unless you wished to use the tractor, nestled in the barn until the weather warmed, there would be no radio and heated seating to take your mind off Victor and the plague of memories. It wasn’t unpleasant to sit in the snow, knowing your ability. Just…not something you did for fun.

Your eyes grow heavy after some time, and you do not want to kip in the powder when there’s a warm hearth calling for you inside. At this point, the clear sky ahead shows off the smattering of silvery stars above, like a bejewelled midnight sash draped above. You kick the excess white from your boots before you enter and pause at the bedroom door.

No.

Behind you, there’s still half a log in the fireplace and enough decorative pillows on the sofa. You take a coat from the rack by the door and bunker down for the night.

Sleep takes you like an old friend meeting you for a stroll, and then, you are off.

---

He found himself near his home in the early hours of the night, a window of time when the daylight has not sprung, yet the night is a pale navy, traversable by nocturnal beings like himself. But he is recounting it too soon; yes, there is more to the story than his return. Sometime after the argument, he had fled the scene, shedding his cosy clothes for his white undershirt, and leapt from the screenless window frame to the snow below. It had been the tail end of a long slog at his last post, leaving him hollow and mindless. He had thoughts on Magneto and how his order of operations ran incongruent with his, yet he persisted.

Badly.

Victor took off running like an animal from a cage, yes. Yes! He is out, freed, and enraptured by the thrill of it all. He made for the forest and took to work on an oak’s thick, heather-brown trunk. With every slash of his fingers, he tried to release his anger, yet it left him aching and just as empty as before. Before him, the oak tree, perhaps several decades old, tottered in the breeze, its bark half-slain from his touch.

“Goddamned idiot,” he muttered to himself.

The wind had a bite to it, and only now he felt its sting. Not even his lupine traits could muffle the sensation. Now cold, angry, pissed thoroughly off and dissatisfied with his outburst, Victor stood in the snow, seething.

They had tried talking to him. It was better than he could do on his worst days. They had tried. And he hadn’t listened; worse, he glazed over their words. He stood in the snow-filled forest, thinking about what might have made them so worked up, what he had done to make them feel that way.

And then – it hit him.

He feels a jolt through his arm, energy. It snaps through his cells, poises his muscles, and before he can blink or stop himself, he has withdrawn his fist to dole a solid hit to the oak tree before him. It snaps, and like when a seasoned lumberjack fells a foe, the tree falls backward, away from him.

He exhales sharply, staring at the cracked stump where the tree just stood. It looked as if a bolt of lightning had invaded the wood and snapped its core, albeit without the burn marks, and the storm required to dole the hot, instant punishment. Victor now knows what he must do now. Later, he will take care of this outburst. But first, he must make things right with his partner. As he returns to the farmhouse, he notes the station wagon is under the carport, and the prints of his __________ appear old, buried a little under fresh powder. He makes it inside and sees their boots by the entrance, and then as he moves further in –

You are lying on the couch, wearing yesterday’s clothes beneath a snow coat, head crooked on a throw pillow and awkwardly lolled over the sofa’s surface. The last log of the fire has almost extinguished itself, the light very low in the room.

Victor should feel pity when he sees you. He should always feel it for someone with less skill to take care of themselves in the wilderness than himself, the Sabretooth. Yet now, and every time he sees you, there is something in him that expands in his chest that warms thoughts with a kind of emotion previously foreign to him. Silently, he opens the fireplace and lays kindling with some old newspaper balled up. It catches quickly, and deftly, Victor places a new log atop the smoulder of flames.

He looks to you, now bathed in the red-gold glow of firelight and feels that twinge turn in his stomach. He’ll make it right to you in the morning; he must. You look too peaceful to rouse in the ungodly hours of a Canadian morning. He secures the fireplace door and, with the prowess of a natural predator, sneaks his way past you to the bedroom.

He leaves the door ajar and trades his slacks for sweats, and as soon as his head finds the pillow, sleep finds him.

---

You wake in a sweat, but not from your dream. It was a pleasant dream where you and Vic appeared human and traded niceties over decadent coffees in fancy mugs in an arthouse tea shop. Perhaps that was you in another life, but it was amiable, nothing that could stir you from sleep. Your eyes focus and notice the fire still burning. Or is it a new log? You can’t remember, but the room is warmer than when you went to bed, so perhaps that accounts for the sweat.

A low, guttural reverberation rocks the tiles on the roof above your head. Thunder.

It seems quite a (not) fortuitous twenty-four hours for you as you feel yourself rock again. Alcohol is a standard trigger for those raised around it. Most children grow out of their fear of thunderstorms, but you shake along with the rafters with the noise of the storm above.

It doesn’t matter that you went to sleep angry. It would be best if you buried yourself in the bedsheets, or better, in the crook of Victor’s embrace so there could be no change that the storm could touch your awareness. You leave the coat on the couch and scurry to the bedroom. Usually, when a storm rolled in, you would already be in Victor’s arms. You try your best to make your way to the vacant side of the sheets as quietly as you can, but a loud floorboard beneath your toes leads to the amber-gold eyes of your boyfriend meeting yours.

“Storm,” you say.

“X’s, or the –” he’s interrupted.

Another rumble, rhythmically similar to the previous one. When the silver-haired weather girl was around, her thunder was asymmetrical. Not that you knew, from experience. You weren’t a fighter. Just…a mutant stuck in the middle of the war between Professor X and Magneto.

“C’mere,” his voice is low but a good kind of reverberation that makes you fold like origami into his arms. “You okay, __________?”

You wait for the pace of your heart to slow a little before you respond. You know he can hear it beating, and together, you lay in the embrace, quiet as the storm moves overhead.

“You work so hard for us,” you whisper to him, the words dissipating in the early morning air as soon as you say them. “I shouldn’t fuss when you take liberties with your liquor. But…”

“Shhh, it’s okay. I might not be the brightest bulb, but I remember what you told me.” His shoulders flex: you can feel his biceps behind you tense up as you realise what he’s saying. He remembered. “Don’t give that cretin the time; he deserves all hell for what he did.”

“Vic, you can’t kill my father.” You remind him.

“I want to,” he grits out. “…but besides. I was an asshole about it.” He pauses, and, after a beat, as if the words came from somewhere else, but in the intonation of his voice, you heard the words. “M’sorry, __________.”

Your heart races. Never have you heard those words from him in the years of knowing, dating, and living with Victor Creed. You know how hard it is for him. You had always accepted his condolences in the form of his actions and as the blank air where he intended them to be translated as such. You turn in his embrace and bury your head into his chest. Your arms tighten around him, your legs intertwined with his. He bends his head toward you, and in the dark morning light, as the outskirts of Edmonton are waking, your lips meet.

“I ain’t perfect, __________, but I’m trying.” He says, his breath hot on your cheek. He peppers your face with measured, tiny kisses. You nuzzle into the scruff of his neck as another wave of thunder echoes, this time further away than before.

“Vic,” you tell him, speaking into his neck, where you are positioned, his jaw above your head, “You’re just about perfect to me.”

#Victor Creed/Reader #victor creed x reader #victor creed x oc #sabretooth x reader #X-MEN FANFIC #marvel fanfic #marvel x reader #pendragonfics #chaotic--lovely

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itsthestutterforme · 2 years ago

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“No, Fuck That” 1/2 (Jake “Hangman” Seresin x black!reader)

Prompt credit: @thelonelyempath : “What are you trying to say?” “Hate me if you want but you know I’m right,” “Let’s get one thing straight. I’m not your boyfriend. We’re just fucking. And if you give me any more attitude, tomorrow I might fuck someone else.”

Summary: Jake was your sneaky link and the inevitable happens, one of you caught feelings.

Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes are my own, mentions of sex, attempted assault

—

“What’s your problem?” Jake asks, hopping out of his truck when he sees you pull up to your apartment. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You brush passed him to walk into the lobby. “You’ve been moping around all day,” “And why do you care if I’m moping,”

“I don’t.” You tap your key fob to the elevator before pressing the up button. “Then why are you here?” The two of you watched the arrow above the elevator glow as the door opened. “You know why,” “Are you going in? Or..” he adds, motioning to the elevator. You waited for the door to closed to face, crossing your arms. “Thought you would be with the blondie from the bar.” You taunt.

“That’s what this is about?” He said with a scoff, watching as the elevator closes. “We’re not together, Y/N.” “I’m aware of that, Jake. I don’t need you to remind me of that.” You grumbled, tapping the key fob on pad with a little more force. “So what? You wanna call it.”

“That’s the smart choice, yes. But I know myself… you need the burn the bridge completely so there’s no chance of doing this again.” “So lay it on me, and be brutal about it.” “I’m not going to give the satisfaction you need. No, fuck that.” His cerulean eyes cut daggers at you as he closed the gap between you.

“You fucked up a good thing.” “I fucked it up?” “Yes, you just had to catch feelings, didn’t you?” “Oh fuck you,” you move to tap the key fob again and he held your arm tightly. “You knew what you were getting into when we started messing around. Let me guess, you wanted to change me, right?”

“Let go of me, Jake.” “Hate me if you want but you know I’m right. You fucked it up, not me.” “You’ve said enough. Just go.” “Let’s get one thing straight. I’m not your boyfriend. We’re just fucking. And if you don’t clean up whatever shit is going on with you, tomorrow I might fuck someone else.”

There it was. The burning of the bridge, and the flames were roaring. Now it was your turn to get in his face. “Then go! There’s nothing keeping you here besides your stubbornness. You’re such an asshole!” You shove his chest with enough force to make him stumble a few steps back.

The elevator dinged, opening to three people. “Sorry,” you mumbled, stepping to the side to let them pass. You walked into the elevator, letting out a shaky breath when he met his gaze. He almost looked… conflicted. But that was no longer your problem. He was no long your problem.

So why were you crying? “God, can you please close already?” You tell the elevator. You pushed the fourth floor button feverishly until the door began to close. Before he even realized what was happening, Jake’s hand stops the doors from closing.

“What are you doing?” You hiss. “I..” “No, you don’t get to say anything after the bullshit you just pulled.” He makes a move to step into the elevator. “Get. Out.” You said, venom dripping from your voice. He met your gaze, his face softening when he saw more tears steaming down your face despite the confidence of your head lifted high, your chest heaving with anger.

“Okay,” he said softly, letting the elevator close. A sob escaped you and you ran a hand over your face. You tried to take deep breaths to calm yourself, wiping the tears away before someone saw you.

You further snuggled your pillow in your arms, grumbling at Phoenix’s voice. “You think he’s in here, crying and sleeping all day?” She asked. “No, he doesn’t give a shit. That’s the problem. He doesn’t give a shit, and I do. So just let me deal with it in peace.” You groaned into the pillows.

“But you’re not dealing with it, Y/N. You’re letting it consume you. You haven’t showered in days. You’ve barely eaten.” She sits at the edge of your bed and you turned your body the other way. “I know you care for that asshole but there’s no better time than the present to get over him. Just take it one day at a time, baby doll.” She adds.

“Do you want a hug?” She asked after a few moments of silence. “Yes,” you croak, sitting up in bed and leaned into her open arms. “He doesn’t deserve your tears. Now how about you come with me to go on some errands. And then we go to a party later at night?” She consoles and smooths a hand over your frizzed hair.

“Okay,” you said with a nod. She waited patiently in your living room while you showered, washed your hair and got dressed. She took you out for breakfast before you went on errands with Phoenix like she promised. She saved her errands at the air base last, leaving you in the car so you didn’t cross paths with Jake.

She wore her jumper to the party because there were going to be fellas from the Army and the Marines showing up at the party. After all, it was her buddy in the Army that was throwing the party. And if there are going to be people from other branches, you can count on Jake being there to stir up some trouble.

By the time you and Phoenix arrive at the party, Jake, Coyote, Payback, Bob, Rooster and Fanboy were there playing pool and darts. The air was thick with fumes from the vapes and weed. “Hey Phoenix! Y/N!” Rooster yells over the music. You gave him a small smile, scanning the room for the drink table. You spot a bottle and a couple red cups in the kitchen.

A hand catches yours and Phoenix asks, “Where you going?” “I refuse to go through tonight sober.” She gives you a worried look. “Don’t worry. I know my limits.” You reassure, weeding through the crowd until you got to the kitchen. You opened the cabinet in search for a shot glass when you found a new bottle of Royal Crown.

“Now we’re talking,” you poured yourself a shot and knocked it back without a second though. You let out a long breath before pouring another one. You brought the rim to your lips when a familiar scent filled your nose, cologne and fucking pine.

“Do you know where the beers are?” Jake asks you. “How am I suppose to know, Seresin? I just got here.” “You seem to know where the Royal Crown was. You’ve been in this house before, Y/L/N?” He prods. “Fuck off,” you snark before knocking back the shot.

“I just want to talk,” you put the lid back on the bottle and put the bottle back in the satin bag. Setting the shot glass in the sink, you opened the fridge to cases of beer. “The beer is in here,” you day, taking two from the fridge and walking passed him to meet Phoenix.

“Did you hear what I said?” “I did. I just chose to ignore it.” You pushed your way through the crowd once again. “There you are. I was about to go find you.” Phoenix says, gracefully taking the beer from your hands. “Did a little pregame,” you smiled as Rooster approached you with open arms.

“You doing okay?” He asks, wrapping his arms around you. “Always,” he booped his nose into yours, making your nose crinkle. “You’re breaking, Y/N/N.” He hands you a pool stick and you caught Jake’s gaze from the kitchen. You brushed off his stare and racked the balls into the triangle, pulling it back until it was straight.

Jake watched as you played pool with Rooster and Phoenix. Your two body guards, he thought to himself. You were beginning to enjoying yourself when you noticed an unconscious woman asleep on the couch and two men dressed in Army uniforms picking her up and dragging her up the stairs.

You beelined through the crowd to get to the woman before anything happened. Little did you know, Jake was following behind you because he noticed the same thing. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You call after the guys. “Mind your damn business,” one man snarks, barely able to get the words out without slurring.

“Put her down you fucking rapists,” you spit. One men held the unconscious woman in his arms while the other made his way to you. “I said, mind your-“ you landed a solid punch to his nose, relieved when you felt the crack on your knuckles. “You fucking bitch,” the man dropped the woman and charged towards you.

Jake grappled him, picking the man up and throwing him on his back. He threw punch after punch until the man fell unconscious. Meanwhile, the man whose nose you broke was livid. He back handed you across the face and gripped your neck as he shoved you into the wall.

You lifted your entire arm and brought it down to his inner elbows, causing his arm to bend. He leant forward from the pressure of your arm locked around his and you took the opportunity to elbow him in his face. His eyes watered as he fell to his knees and Jake choked him out from behind.

“You alright?” He asked as he was catching his breath. Before you could open your mouth to say anything, someone asks, “What the hell happened up here?” When you looked up, it was some more Army men. They looked at two of their own knocked out on the floor.

Some men strided towards Jake and you stood in front of him. “This must be some misunderstanding. These men were trying to take her upstairs and into that room. We had no idea what their intentions were.” You explained. “Do any of you know this woman?” You add, their eyes fell to the woman’s sleeping form.

“No, we don’t.” “Then we should ask around until someone knows,” you sighed in relief them they agreed and went back downstairs. “Why did you follow me?” You asked Jake once you two were finally alone. “I don’t know,” “Yes you do,” you turned to face him.

“And if you say something stupid like ‘I’m afraid how you make me feel’, I will walk.” “We should talk after we get her home safe.” You waited a moment before nodding in agreement.

#jake seresin imagine #jakeseresin x blackreader #black!reader #top gun x reader #top gun maverick

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