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stvrdrops · 2 years ago

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star like you pt 1 | pt 2 ☆ shuri x fem!reader (fame au)

you’re a superstar and she’s your producer. when you collide together again for the first time in a while since your listening party the two of you feel a spark.

warnings : i don’t think there are any!

word count : 2.9k+

note : hi !! this is basically my return to tumblr. i took such a long break because honestly my fixation on shuri ended and i lost a lot of my motivation. i also was figuring out a lot of college stuff and working on larger projects for my career. i didn’t want to push out mediocre content just to keep up with my posting, y'all don’t deserve that! this will be a series i plan on completing. it has a playlist attached in my masterlist but the song popular by the weeknd kinda sets up for how the story is gonna play out. so i would suggest listening to that one as you read. i hope you enjoy this ! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

“so.. what’s your name?” the man who approached you says with a nervous grin spreading across his face. it had been covered in sweat which made you guess two things. either he felt really hot in his navy blue suit, or he was entirely too nervous to be approaching you right now. you presumed it was the second option. this was only because just a few moments earlier you saw him chatting with his friends and how they would always look back at you.

you chuckle, “i’d rather you just ask me for the picture already, rather than play dumb about not knowing who i am.”

you turn your body to him, giving him your full attention. you watch as his eyes grow wide and he begins to play with his collar, as if it’s suffocating him. his sweat droplets glide down his forehead and absorb into his full eyebrows. you think it’s amusing, because you know he doesn’t just want a photo. he wants something much more.

“i’m sorry.”

“it’s fine.” you set your glass down, “so do you want the picture or not?”

“uh, yeah sure. i guess.” he says while fumbling to pull out his phone. you glance over to his buddies to see them with wide grins, so you decide to play along. you take his phone, brushing ever so slightly against his rough hands with your soft fingers. it leaves a trail of goosebumps rising against his skin that is hidden underneath the suit.

“get in the frame.” you say as you focus the camera mainly on you. that was just how you liked it, having all the attention on you. you weren’t sure how you would’ve lived any other lifestyle than the one you’re living right now. best selling new album, grammy nomination number three with one win already under your belt, sold out tour for next year, and all while you were just twenty. should you have been drinking a martini? not legally. however, the bartender was more than willing to move around the rules a little bit if he heard who track seven was written about.

he shuffles closer to you, the only thing keeping him from moving any closer is the aura you omit. he knew you weren’t on his level, especially because he was just some niche internet celebrity that only the incels of twitter knew about. you weren’t even sure how he made it into this exclusive bar.

the camera from the phone clicks and your toothy smile turns into one that shows annoyance. you hand the phone back and watch as his face is stuck in embarrassment. you soooo got off on that.

“hope you have a nice night.”

“y-yeah, you too...”

he shuffles away and you watch as he keeps his head held down low. he passes by his friends who all try to congratulate him upon his arrival back, thinking something entirely different took place during the interaction. he just walks right past them and towards the exit of the bar.

you turn your body back towards the bar and look back down at your glass. your acrylic nails play around with the olives at the bottom of the near empty drink. you hadn’t had a real motive for going to the bar. really you just wanted to escape your manager for a second and have a night out to yourself for once. living the socialite lifestyle meant you were hardly ever alone. your assistant stayed up your ass constantly and even lived in your guest house back at home in L.A.. you had to go out to places almost every night whether it be restaurants or brand launches with friends to keep up with the life that young girls only dreamt of. which, you loved it, but you also liked your own company a lot more than anyone else’s.

“here you are.” the bartender says, winking as he slides you another martini.

“who bought me this one?” you ask, considering you’ve been receiving drinks all night. to be specific, this was your seventh one. usually guys would send over fruity shots, which is what they expected you to drink. luckily you had a group of girls celebrating a bachelorette party right beside you. you had been giving them all of your drinks which they greatly appreciated.

this time the drink had been a martini. the exact same way you had been getting them all night. how thoughtful.

“cutie at the end of the bar. she said she knew you.”

your eyes glance over in the direction of where the bartender’s hand subtly points to. sure enough you saw the girl he had been referring to. she knew you, and you did know her. she was one of the producers on your new album. she’s up and coming and you knew you had to be one of the first to brag about working with her. sure enough the song was a hit and even one of the tracks off the album being put up for grammy nominations.

despite all that, you two had never actually met until your album release party. every conversation before that had been done on the phone since she wasn’t living in the U.S. at the time. it was safe to say you were surprised she was here in new york. even more surprised that she ended up at the same bar as you, on the same night, at the same time. you would say it’s fate. she would say she saw the paparazzi pictures of you entering the bar and she just happened to be in a hotel a couple blocks down. nothing an uber ride couldn’t fix.

she waves to you and flashes a smile. her pearly white teeth sparkle against her darker skin. you smile back, giving a little wave as well. she looked cute in her sleeveless shirt and dark green dress pants. Which you only saw due to her standing against the wall near the bar. the rest of the seats were taken, so she waited the long game and decided to stand until she made her move. her hair had been freshly faded and she had added a few more tattoos onto herself since the last time you two were together. you were unsure how you saw them despite the dim lighting, but you were just staring too hard to not notice.

you felt a bit overdressed in your vivienne westwood dress that accentuated your chest and sat high on your thighs. it wasn’t anything too fancy, but the black kiki marc jacobs boots you were wearing were anything but casual.

“oh yeah? tell her to come over.” you say back to him, and he gives you a look. “don’t worry i’ll tip you well.”

he smiles and walks away from you to the other side of the bar. you can’t see his lips moving, but you can tell they are because now she’s looking at him instead of you. then she looks at you, as if wanting you to say the words yourself. so you do, in a glance and a quick nod. her white teeth flash again when she smiles. she grabs her glass from the counter, filled with some type of expensive scotch. she had actually been old enough to drink, her being two years your senior.

your eyes trailed her as she made her way around. people crowded your vision of her every so often as they conversed with those around them, swiveling in their bar chairs.

“hi.” she finally says when she’s standing in front of you, looking even better up close.

“hi.” you say back as you take her in.

“mind if i sit?”

“not at all.”

share slides so easily into the seat with this energy that makes your stomach suddenly feel fuzzy.

“how’ve you been?” she asks.

“good, yourself?” you ask in return, your fingers trailing themselves around the rim of her glass. she glances at the action out of the corner of her eye.

“i mean, a lot has changed. good change though, all thanks to your album. let’s just say i won't be out of a job anytime soon.”

you laugh, “so is this drink a thank you?”

“you could say that. it’s also just a kind gesture. i saw that guy bothering you earlier.”

“bothering isn’t the right word choice. he was harmless really.” you take a sip of the martini, “besides, i know how to handle myself.”

shuri stares at you for a moment, entranced by your being. her hands are resting on her lap but they ache to reach out for your exposed skin. ever since the album party she couldn’t help but think about you. work crushes were extremely unprofessional and she prided herself on never mixing pleasure with business. you were just that one exception for her and it made her head spin.

that night at the party you had barely even talked to her, but she watched everything you did. which, she would be surprised if anyone had not been watching you that night. the party was all about you. granted, it was partly about shuri too considering she had collaborated on it. she was nice to the people who came up to her and congratulated her work. she watched as you did the same thing.

she barely got the chance to talk to you, so the fact she was talking to you now made her feel like it may be one of the last convenient chances she gets.

“do you turn down everyone who tries to flirt with you?”

“i’m not turning you down am i?” you ask her, moving your eyes from your glass to her. “why do you ask?”

shuri felt like she was caught, “i saw you do it at the party. i saw you do it tonight. i never see any media covering any dating stories with you so i’m just tryna see what the deal is.”

you raise your eyebrow, “so you’re trying to see if i’m fair game.”

shuri smiles again, this time it looks shy and innocent. it makes you swoon a little.

“yeah i guess you could say that.”

you can’t help but cling onto every word that she says because of her wakandan accent. it was so sexy the way she made every word sound so much more special than it really was. it had been sexy when you heard it over the phone and at the party, but it felt somewhat different this time.

“what time is it?” you ask her, which catches shuri by surprise.

“um,” she quickly pulls her phone out of her back pocket and opens it, “eleven fifty-six.”

you sit and think for a moment. you had to be back up at five in the morning for a photoshoot but you figured it was still early enough in the night to have some fun. lucky shuri.

“okay. let’s go to wherever you’re staying at.”

shuri was shocked by your response. she knew she was attractive and had some game. however, you were a task she couldn’t even begin to imagine tackling. you were on this pedestal to the entire world that almost made it impossible to see you as a fellow human being. with your millions of followers and “i’m the shit” mentality it made you intimidating. you were the prize and shuri had her eyes on you.

“okay, yeah. i’ll get us an uber.” shuri says while searching through her phone for the app. “it says it will be here in ten minutes.”

“cool, we can wait by the entrance.”

you get up from your chair and throw down a couple fifties. your drinks didn’t cost much but you did say you’d tip well.

shuri follows behind you like a lost puppy which makes her feel some kind of way. she wasn’t used to being the follower or the less dominant one. all you ever oozed was dominance and control. she was desperate to break that wall down and see what you were really like beneath it all. no one is ever that composed.

“so,” shuri starts as she leans against the wall next to the entrance, “what have you been up to since the album release?”

you can’t help but laugh, “everything i’ve been up to is posted on my socials.”

“oh, i know.” shuri checks her phone, “aren’t you going to ask what i’ve been up to?”

you hum, “shuri, what have you been up to?”

“nothing much. just done a lot of work producing wise. i’ve been attending a lot of events of my own recently.”

“i saw on your insta. i’m glad you were able to find a free night.” you stare into her dark brown eyes.

“yeah, me too.”

a silence consumes the two of you despite all the talking and low music filling the room. you’d never quite felt like this with anyone before. this feeling of being okay with being around someone other than yourself. shuri could sense you weren’t a person who let their exterior down easily. not your real one anyway. the wakandan knew she had a huge task ahead of her, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to do it all in one night. however, she knew you were feeling her, and that was good enough.

everything was going great as she continued to get closer to you with every slight step. she figured it was good for her to get closer since you weren’t telling her to stop. it wasn’t like she made the distance closing unobvious. then, of course, her phone went off.

“the uber is here.” shuri says while turning her phone off and looking back up at you.

“are you ready?” you ask her.

“yeah?” shuri says with curiosity. why wouldn’t she be?

“no, i mean are you ready?” you ask again while looking outside of the window closest to you both. shuri follows your gaze and notices all of the people outside readying their large cameras. now she knows what you meant. once pictures hit the media of you two in date outfits and getting into the same car meant all hell would break loose.

“are you ready?” shuri can’t help but ask. she was concerned about how much you’d have to deal with when the morning came. you were the shooting star and she was simply the sky that surrounded you. the attention would be on you, not her.

“i’m always ready.” you say while smiling and grabbing her hand. it made her eyes widen and she could feel the heat spreading across her soft face.

your feet pick up sooner than her own, so for the first couple steps you’re practically dragging her along. shuri eventually picks up the pace at the right time. she can see the paparazzi positioning their cameras on you and her before you’ve even exited the building.

“open the door for me.” you say under your breath as you finally make it to the big glass doors. shuri very quickly follows your command and it makes you smile.

voices begin to flood the entire entrance area, and they're all shouting for you.

“put your arm around my waist.”

shuri nods and does just that, confused by your motives.

you both begin walking down the sidewalk to the uber that seemingly couldn’t park any closer. clicks and flashes of light cloud your vision and ears but you were used to it. you hardly ever blinked anymore when one of them went right off in your face. however, shuri was struggling to make her way through it all. she wasn’t used to so many photos begin taken of her at once. she was someone who stayed in the background, never front and center.

“y/n, are you two an item?”

“maybe!” you answer with a soft, girl next door smile. you had been practicing it since you first got big.

“shuri! was this a date?” one of them asks as they shove a camera into her face. it was none other than tmz.

“well, um...” she fumbles to find the right words, afraid she may say the wrong thing and ruin her chances with you.

“it was a catch up. shuri produced one of the singles on my new album. you should def go and stream it!” you say, quickly recovering the conversation and making sure the camera grabs your good side. shuri is impressed by how good you were at giving the media not what they want, but just what they need.

“is her arm not around your waist? seems pretty romantic to me.”

“she’s making sure i don’t get lost in the crowds. besides, i don’t mind a cute girl on my hip.”

that part made her catch her breath a little. it was as if her heart stopped beating for a second and then continued on. especially when you looked up at her with sparkling eyes.

“sorry guys, we’ve gotta go.” shuri says when she realizes that you’ve both finally reached the car.

the paparazzi continued to take photos of the two of you as you hop into the car together. the driver doesn’t say a word. living in new york as an uber driver meant you picked quite a few celebrities. the less you talked meant a better tip.

shuri simply puts her hand on your leg, wanting to squeeze the skin beneath her fingertips. you lay your head on her shoulder, content with the touching. this was sure to be an interesting night as the two of you ached to touch one another in other ways.

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙✧⋆｡°✩☼⋆｡°✩☽︎

#stvrdrops #fanfic #mcu shuri #princess shuri #shuri #shuri fic #shuri fanfic #shuri fanfiction #shuri x reader #shuri x y/n #shuri/reader #wlw #sapphic #mcu fanfic #marvel #singer!reader & shuri #Spotify

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thegigilwriter · 8 months ago

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17 | “Danger & Star, Rooster & Angel” — Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Mitchell OC

Summary. 26-year-old Lucy Asa Mitchell did not know what was in store for her when she first bumped into Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw. After an instant mutual connection followed by a sweet whirlwind romance that swept both their feet, Lucy found herself being immersed deeper into Bradley’s world of the Navy, F-14s, and deployments. What she didn’t expect was finding was the answer to an elusive part of her past — the identity of her long-lost father.

Chapter Summary. It’s some minutes to midnight before Lucy’s birthday and she’s walking down memory lane with someone we’re dying to get to know a little more. After midnight, Bradley is faced with a surprising revelation.

Masterlist

Keywords/Warnings: Angst, implications of loss of loved ones, fluff

17 | Birthday Wish 🎂

September 27, 2023

It was five minutes to midnight and Lucy was sitting on her purple couch. An album was sprawled across her lap and a paper bag sat beside her. She flipped another page. It was Halloween in Oregon and for trick-or-treat, Lucy and Ford were dressed up in their homemade peanut butter and jelly costumes. The night had just concluded, they were poised on the front porch of their house, and they were both holding up a shared bucket of candy —Lucy with missing teeth was smiling ear-to-ear, and Ford with a cute little frown. Lucy remembered that Halloween vividly, for it was one of their last trick-or-treats as children. She recalled Ford didnʼt want to go that day and the only reason why he did is because she made him. Lucy wanted to have all the candy she could get as a last hurrah. Ford disliked sweets with a passion, so he was more than happy to let her take his share. She chuckled, shaking her head as the turned another page.

This time, it was during an awarding ceremony for one of his chess meets. It was Nationals, and it was such a big deal at the time that Tala took some time off of work to accompany Ford and Lucy to New York. He took home the trophy that day, receiving it in a handsome navy suit and a ghost of a smile — Ford rarely ever does smile. They were 15 at the time, and Ford was truly starting to look like Pete ‘Maverickʼ Mitchell. She stared at the picture for a moment — it was truly uncanny. They both had eyes that looked like they were a hiding a secret with the same shoulders and the same lips and the same hair. Lucy has always suspected that Ford resembled their father... it was one of the excuses she made for her mother of why she always seemed to favor her brother every time.

Lucy turned the page once more, and some days after the meet it was their 16th birthday, and like every year... they shared the same cake, the same candles, and the sometimes even the same gifts. She remembered that particular birthday. It was the first time they tried their first taste of alcohol — Stella Marie red wine. Well... it was Fordʼs first time anyway. Tala could tell by how Lucy quickly downed her glass without so much as a scrunch of her nose. She scolded her publicly that day. Her uncles were not spared from her wrath— after all... they did let her have her first sip of Red Horse Beer.

Two minutes to midnight. She turned one last page and it turned into Fordʼs graduation headshot. He looked much older and his appearance was much more refined. His hazel eyes matured with intensity and seriousness. Lucy could still hear the squeals and hoots of the female onlookers when Ford took this photograph, in his white robes, with a blue collar, and red stripes.

A minute to midnight. Lucy set aside the album and opened the paper bag, retrieving a single candle and a vanilla cupcake with frosting. She lit the candle and buried one end in the cupcake. She set the cupcake on the living room table and sat on the floor with her hands folded on the surface with her chin laid upon them.

“Happy birthday Asa, happy birthday ‘Yani. Happy birthday, happy birthday...ˮ

Lucy smiled, a single tear trailing down her cheek.

“Happy birthday to you...ˮ

Lucy closed her eyes and sighed deeply.

“Whatʼs your wish, ‘Yani?ˮ

“I donʼt believe in superstition, and neither should you.ˮ

“Isnʼt there anything you want?ˮ

“I do, but Iʼm not gonna get it by wishing...ˮ

Lucy blew out the candle with another sigh, licked the frosting from its end, and the ate cupcake with a mug of hot tea. She laid among the cushions, still staring at Fordʼs photograph many minutes after midnight. Lucy can feel her eyelids wavering and herself slipping into slumber.

“I know you donʼt believe in wishes,ˮ she whispered to him. “But Iʼve tried everything else and Iʼm getting tired of praying...ˮ

“I wish youʼd come back.ˮ

17 minutes after midnight.

“I wish I said that Iʼm sorry.ˮ

19 minutes after midnight.

“I wish it was me instead.ˮ

21 minutes after midnight.

Bradley arrived some 40 minutes after midnight at Lucyʼs apartment. When he stepped into the vicinity, his heart softened at the sight of Lucyʼs sleeping figure on her purple couch. He fixed his boots in the designated cubby of her shoe rack and hung his flight-suit on the spare hanger in the cabinet. As he passed by her on his way to the kitchen, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead so as to not wake her up. He washed his hands at the sink and as he was drying them, he noticed the extinguished birthday candle on the dish rack. He smiled softly at the reminder, it was officially Lucyʼs 26th birthday. He walked over to her and kneeled by her sweet, slumbering form.

“Angel?ˮ He whispered. “Baby?ˮ

Lucy groaned slightly, turning on her side and inadvertently letting the album slide from her abdomen towards the floor. Bradley bent down to pick it up and intended to close it when the open page caught his eye. He quickly glanced at Lucy, and after convincing himself that she would not be waking up anytime soon, he allowed himself to prop the album open on his thigh in full view.

The photograph was of Lucy. She appeared to be on the high ledge of a building, smiling at the sun with her eyes closed. Her hair was down in all its curls and coils. She had on a pair of earphones with the Ipod tucked into the pocket of her black leather jacket. She was also wearing black Doc Martens, denim jeans, and a Coldplay band shirt. Bradleyʼs eyes flitted to the date inscribed below— November 2012. Bradley chuckled, he didnʼt quite expect how different her style was when she was 13.

He turned another page — and it was Lucy in a blue one-piece and a swim cap on a podium, standing proudly on the highest shelf as she held up a gold medal, and another picture of her mid-backstroke. Bradley turned another page and it was Lucy again in a beautiful, iridescent gown with pearls in her hair on a stage, performing what was presumably an opera piece. Another page — and it was Lucy in the same attire with a wide smile post-performance and right next to her was a dapper young gentleman with a serious stare. There was something about his eyes that struck a familiar chord in Bradley so he turned another page, intrigued.

September 2013

Twinsʼ 14th

Lucy and Ford

There was Lucy and Ford. Lucy was on Fordʼs back with her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs curled against his sides. Judging by Fordʼs expression, she had taken him by surprise when she piggybacked him. Lucy was laughing, her party hat tipped to one side.

Bradley read the inscription once more.

Twinsʼ 14th

Twins.

Bradley heard a faint rustle from behind him and instantly shut the album and placed it on the table in front of him.

“Bradley?ˮ Lucy yawned. “What time is it? Are you hungry?ˮ

“Hey Angel,ˮ he said to her softly. “Happy birthday...ˮ

“Thank you,ˮ she smiled sleepily. “Are you hungry?ˮ

“Iʼd rather just sleep with you right now if thatʼs alright. You and I got a long trip ahead of us tomorrow... ˮ Bradley grinned and Lucy nodded, head hitting the cushion again as he chuckled. Lifting Lucy from the couch, he let her head cradle against his chest and secured his grasp on the skin behind her knees. He walked to her room, set her down on her bed, and drew the covers to her chin. Bradley gazed upon Lucyʼs sleeping face and held a breath when he saw the dried tears that stained her cheeks. The walk down memory lane. The candle in the dish rack. It dawned on Bradley that it wasnʼt only Lucyʼs birthday... It was also Fordʼs, and for some reason, he couldnʼt celebrate it.

Bradley spent his time in the shower in deep contemplation. As the warm water continued to soak his curls and wash his skin, many pieces of thoughts came together in his mind. He couldnʼt quite shake the mystery in Lucyʼs life that was Ford — who also happened to look too eerily familiar to Bradley for a stranger...

Fraternal twins.

Born 1997.

Angel.

Lucy Mitchell.

Ford Mitchell. ...

Pete... Mitchell.

Mitchell.

Mitchell is a common American surname. Bradley knows two other people with that surname aside from Lucy, Ford, and Mav... so it could just all be a weird coincidence... right?

Right?

Bradley hastily dried his locks and toweled off the excess water from his body. After changing into one of the shirts and boxers he left in Lucyʼs drawers, he quickly retrieved his phone and his wallet, and sat beside where Lucy laid in bed.

Search For: Ford Mitchell

Results

23-year-old Detective New ‘Sherlock Holmesʼ of NYPD

Mitchell Busts ‘Uncatchableʼ Sleuth Slayer

Genius Cop Brings Corrupt Gov. to Justice

After scrolling down the results briefly, Bradley opened the Images tab. Many were of Ford in official NYPD attire, receiving an honorary medal, but as he scrolled down further, graduation pictures followed — all linked to the MIT Astrophysics and Space Research Department. Bradley opened one image in full view, it was of Ford posing formally in an NYPD uniform with a navy shirt and tie, the number 99 on the corner of each collar, a fitted jacket with the NYPD insignia on one arm and his badge and service ribbons donned proudly on his left chest. Bradley took out his wallet and opened the tight little pocket, and right behind his old library card was a weathered picture of Goose, Carol, himself... and Maverick.

“An...old friend,ˮ Pete said. “I met her back at Atsugi back in ‘96.ˮ

“Iʼm sorry,ˮ Pete laughed lightly, looking back at Lucy. “Itʼs just so uncanny. You look exactly like her...ˮ

“I spent six months in Atsugi,ˮ Pete sighed. “And for four of them, I did date Tala... As soon as I wrapped up my deployment I went back to the Philippines with her for some months.ˮ

The thoughts couldnʼt stop coming to him even if he tried to slow it all down to look at each one clearly — without the lens of emotion.

The way Lucy looked at Mav when he first introduced them at the Hard Deck. It was as if she knew him.

How nervous and inconsolable she was on the night Penny invited them over for dinner. He remembered how much Lucy fussed over the correct ratio and flavor of the spring roll filling prior.

“Theyʼre just as I remember them to be...ˮ Those were Mavʼs very words.

Could it be?

Lucy is... and Mav are...

Bradley gasped slightly. He gazed upon Lucy. Did she know? An unsettling heaviness burrowed in Bradleyʼs chest and he felt his head becoming warmer by the second. He felt a strong urge to wake her... to let her explain herself. He was his own person, capable and deserving of the truth. Did she not trust him enough to handle it? He didnʼt need his mother to delay the news of the death of his own father until he was six-years-old. He didnʼt need Maverick to make it harder for him to become a pilot so that he wouldnʼt end up like his dad. He certainly didnʼt need his girlfriend hiding something of this magnitude from him. Bradley was so just sick and tired of the people around him pushing him away, thinking that theyʼre protecting him. Just as he was about to wake her, a tear slipped down her cheek. He shakily held a breath.

“Ford?ˮ She murmured in the saddest voice that he has ever heard. “Donʼt go... Iʼm sorry...ˮ

Bradley withdrew his hand instantly.

Did it really matter though? That the father she never talked about just happened to be his godfather, or so Bradley suspects?

Would he love her any less... if he knew what really happened to Ford and why Lucy seemed so guilty about it?

Was it worth it? To expose her now and reopen the wounds that she had appeared to have tried so hard for so long to heal? On her birthday? A day that severely reminded her of the loss of someone who meant so much to her?

There was still so much Bradley didnʼt know about Lucy. This is true. But what he does know, is the girl he fell in love with. The girl who loves the sea and swims with whales, who sings opera to make her mother proud, who snorts uncontrollably when she laughs, who canʼt dance to save her life or eat anything even mildly spicy, who lives for food, who meets their best friend by threatening to burn a robber alive, who beats Hangman at darts, and who fits perfectly on his lap. The only girl heʼll ever allow to drive his 1970 Ford Bronco and whose cooking that he now canʼt live without. The girl he told Nat he knows heʼs going to marry on the fourth date — the night for their first kiss.

“If thereʼs anything I can tell you, itʼs that Lucy comes from a family where... pushing down their feelings and hiding their problems is way to be strong. Itʼll be hard — getting Lucia out of her shell.ˮ

Bradley sighed deeply. He looked at the conch shell that Francesca gifted Lucy on her dresser. It was beautiful, but perhaps it would have been truly difficult to pry outside the creature that once inhabited it. He placed his phone and wallet on her dresser and embraced her snugly in his strong arms. He inhaled the scent of her hair and placed soft kisses from behind her ear towards her collarbone.

“In time, Iʼll tell you everything — everything, I promise. But for now, I hope that youʼll have me for what I am in your eyes.ˮ

Those were the words she had uttered on the night he asked her to be his girlfriend. What kind of person would Bradley be, if he ignored this promise over his pride? A human, of course... like everybody else. For now he would wait, bide his time for the moment, and hope that the inevitability of conflict will stay at bay for a little while longer.

Our first preview of the elusive Ford Mitchell. I’m wondering at this point of the story of what you, dear readers, might speculate about his whereabouts and his character. 🤔 Bradley’s slowly putting the pieces together, but is Lucy ever going to let him? 🐚 Let’s put the drama and angst aside for now, unto to 18 | Monterey Bay!

P.S. I don’t think it’s canon that Carole really delayed the news of Goose’s death to little Bradley — it’s more of a hc of mine.

Taglist: @itsarabellebabes

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cybzilla · 7 years ago

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I don’t have time to do a full character sheet but here’s Mitzie’s dad- Augustus (Gus) Fischer.

#my art #I've never played metal gear but I feel like... he looks like #solid snakes... dad?#he's like Mitzie's opposite #he gives one word replies #if you're lucky #he wears the same thing every day #and eats the same thing every day #but he's really good at sailing #and being a dad #he has a glass eye because he lost his during his time in the navy #but he doesn't wear it because Mitzie told him the eyepatch looked cooler #anyway there's not much more to say here #a simple man with simple interests

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keanureevesisbae · 2 years ago

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↳ ❝ [a love story - 4.] ¡!❞

Hank Voight x Kazuha Takahashi (asian ofc)

Summary: Kazuha spends time with Hank Voight.

Warnings: Mentions of death

Wordcount: 1.3k

Masterlist // One Chicago Masterlist // a love story masterlist

Knocking often times turns into banging, but that is mostly a force of habit. Politely knocking on the door when you live with two people who are turning deaf, is a lost battle.

I just hope this loud hammering isn’t going to leave a bad impression.

Hank opens the door and I smile when my eyes land on him. I’ve been seeing him on a daily basis now and every morning he walks into the cafe to order a double espresso. If I’m truly spoiled, I see him before work, during work and after my own shift, before I go on a coffee delivery. ‘I hope I’m not bothering,’ I say. ‘Because if you’re busy, I can just move along.’

‘No, it’s fine,’ he says, leaning his shoulder against the doorpost as he pushes his hands in his pockets. ‘Are you alright?’

‘Oh, yeah, I’m okay. My grandparents just have a date night and since they are borderline deaf, the music is loud.’

He chuckles. ‘I see.’

‘I thought maybe you and I could hang out. If you want of course.’ I hold up my hands where I show the goods I brought. ‘Wine and scotch. Not too sure which you prefer.’

‘I’ll take the scotch.’ He takes the bottles from my hands and steps aside.

I’m not too sure what I’m expecting of his place, but I must admit: this place is homey and cosy. As I walk inside, I stop in front of a large photo wall and I see multiple pictures of Hank with a woman and Hank with a kid.

As I have reached the ripe age of thirty three, I am turning into quite the hawk: spotting wedding bands on men is what I do best.

And from what I saw: Hank doesn’t wear a wedding ring.

Maybe he’s divorced…?

‘That’s my late wife,’ he says, as he stops next to me.

That is sad.

‘And that’s my son… He passed away too.’

The poor man. My gosh, how much does he have to suffer? Judging from his line of work, I bet he lost great friends there too.

I lost people at work too and while that continues on to be difficult and you feel like you can never leave that state of morning, at least things went semi well in my personal life. My grandparents and parents and sisters continued on to live.

Unlike in Hank’s situation.

‘I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘I can’t imagine how hard that must’ve been for you.’

All of the sudden I feel like I’m intruding. He didn’t invite me. Maybe he wasn’t even ready to show me this part of him.

I mean, how well do we know each other?

He sighs, nodding briefly, before making his way to his kitchen. After taking one more look at the pictures, I follow him.

Without him saying anything, he pours in some wine for me and some scotch for himself.

‘How are you doing?’ I ask him.

‘Okay.’

‘Rough day?’

‘You got quite the eye for that,’ he notes, taking a sip of his drink. He holds out his hand and I take a seat on the high stool, while he sits in front of me. One arm leans on the table, as he has his fingers folded around the glass.

‘Some quirks you develop over the years,’ I say shrugging my shoulders.

‘Tell me about yourself,’ he then says to break the silence that fell between us. ‘How does a young lady like you end up in Chicago working at a cafe?’

I smile. ‘What did my grandmother tell you already?’

‘She told me you were living with them, since you needed a place to stay. Something about an eviction.’

Okay, so grandma left out pathetic details.

‘Well,’ I say, ‘I was born and raised here. When I was fifteen, I moved in with my grandparents for the first time and when I was seventeen, I joined the navy where I became a cryptologic technician. A lot of things happened and then I moved back to Chicago when I was twenty five. Lived in an apartment for eight years, did not make enough money at the cafe, causing me to get evicted, which ultimately led to moving in with my grandparents.’ I take a sip of my wine, before adding: ‘At least, that’s the short version of it.’

He smirks. ‘Why’d you move in with your grandparents when you were fifteen?’

‘My parents and I didn’t get along, so for my own and their sake, I had to get out of there. Something along the lines of middle child syndrome, I suppose.’

‘I’m sorry, Kazuha.’

I shrug and with a half-assed smirk I say: ‘Don’t we all need a pathetic backstory?’

A smile that is resembling mine appears on his face. ‘Maybe we do.’

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

‘We had a missing kid today,�� Hank says, once we moved to the couch. We’re both sitting on either side of the couch, however we continue to get closer to one another.

I can’t be the only one noticing the space becoming smaller and smaller.

‘A five year old boy,’ he adds.

‘Did you find him?’

He nods. ‘Alive and well, but we found three other bodies.’

Bodies. Indicating they weren’t so lucky as the kid he found today.

‘That must’ve been really hard,’ I say.

He nods. ‘It always is.’

I wonder if I should ask him about it. ‘What’s your son’s name?’ I ask, carefully tiptoeing into this unfamiliar territory.

‘Justin,’ he says. Before I can ask my follow-up question, he adds: ‘He got murdered.’

Without me thinking about it, I place my hand on his. ‘I’m so sorry, Hank.’ Realizing I’m touching him, I quickly retract my hand. ‘I bet you miss him every day.’

He nods, before he places his glass on the coffee table. ‘My wife died because of cancer,’ he softly adds, almost like he doesn’t want me to hear it.

But I hear it.

‘Do those… Do they change your perspective about certain cases? How you view them? How you solve them?’

He nods. ‘Yeah, they do.’

There is so much I want to say, I want to ask. Anything to not let this conversation die down. I want to know more of him. I need to know more of him.

But then my phone starts to vibrate and I nearly jump to the ruff as the buzzing is disrupting our peace and quiet. I look at my screen to discover it’s my grandmother. ‘Grandma, are you alright?’ I ask, when I pick up.

‘Can you help us, Kazuha? The lights are out. Can you check the fuse box?’

I nod, realizing she can’t see that. ‘Yeah, yeah, I’ll be right there.’ When I hang up the phone, I turn to Hank. ‘I’ve got to go, fix the lights.’

‘Need my help?’

I shake my head. ‘No, I’ve got it. I’ll probably hang out with them.’ I offer him a small smile. ‘Thanks for allowing me to stay over.’

‘Of course.’

We both get up from the couch and make our way over to the front door.

‘I’ll see you later, Hank,’ I say.

‘Later, Kazuha.’

I cross the street, though I didn’t hear a door close behind me. Once I opened up the front door of my place, I turn around, to see Hank leaning in the doorway, still staring after me. I hold up my hand and I watch him do the same. The door closes softly behind me and I let out a deep breath.

Before I can ponder over the things we discussed, grandma asks: ‘Kazuha, is that you?’

‘Yeah, it’s me. I’ll go and fix it!’

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Chicago PD taglist (I operate one chicago pd taglist, so one list for all one shots and multichaptered stories): @acdassenza // @wanniiieeee // @one-sweet-gubler // @sofiebstar // @diegos-butt

#a love story #hank voight #hank voight fanfiction #hank voight x ofc #hank voight x asian ofc #kazuha takahashi #hank voight x kazuha takahashi #asian ofc #chicago pd #chicago pd fanfiction

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roscgcld · 4 years ago

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RYOMEN SUKUNA || my little flower

anime: jujutsu kaisen

characters: ryomen sukuna

pronouns: she/her

notes: historical!sukuna x reader, slightly sexual (no smexy time involved lol - maybe another day ;)), quite fluffy towards the end

also - I’ve been reading so many sukuna hcs and imagines of him when he’s in his prime or during the historical era - so like excuse me as I politely simp for the man that is ryomen sukuna >< thank you

references: https://www.japanese-wiki-corpus.org/literature/Ryomen-sukuna.html

Sukuna leans back into the futon with a tired sigh, two of his arms folded behind his head while the other two held you against him securely. His ruby red eyes glanced away from the ceiling to look down at the woman curled up in his embrace, sleeping peacefully against him whilst her own soft arms were wrapped around his muscular torso. He admired your peaceful features at first, but soon his eyes started to travel down your delicate neck and cleavage, your soft skin marked by dark splotches where he had marked you up for the world to see.

Just the sight of the hickeys and bite marks caused Sukuna to smirk once more, the feeling of pride traveling through him at the sight of the hickeys, both new and old, marring your skin. It was a sight he would never get bored of seeing, since it was a constant reminder to you that you were his and no one else’s.

Many would question just how did this happen - how did a simple human manage to ‘tame’ the infamous Sukuna - the King of Curses, who spreads chaos and bloodshed in his wake? How did you, a mere human woman who looked far too kind hearted and warm, ended up with such a fearsome man?

Well, how this came to be was actually a cute story.

You grew up in a small village in Hida province, where many cities treated Sukuna as their patron deity. He was what people would call quite a cold ruler - one who would not hesitate to bring terror and bloodshed down on a town that had angered him. But at the same time, he was quite the generous man as well. He protects the people of the Hida and Mino Provinces, and many towns had florish and grow under his careful guidance.

Your town was one of the may towns that worshipped the Cursed Spirit, preparing offerings on special celebrations and always paying your respects whenever you go up to the ichinomiya on the weekends with your parents. It was because of one of these special celebrations that drew Sukusa to you.

It was one of the many days where offerings were given to him by townspeople, in hopes that they will still continue to get some form of protection from the unknown. He was their patron deity, after all. Even though many times he does all the things he does for his own benefit, it was nice to know that there are some who are gullible enough to think he does it for them. But he it’s one to complain - many of the offerings are things he does not mind indulging in. The best crops from the harvest, women for his ever growing harem, beautifully crafted weapons and clothes are the few he can keep in mind

Many times, he does not care to go through the offerings himself - Uraume goes through all of them and then gives him a general overview of everything. However, as he was walking past one of the neat piles of offerings, a particular garment box caught his eye; causing him to pause before he unwraps it curiously.

Sitting inside the carefully wrapped package was a beautiful dark blue kinomo made of the finest silk, the fabric so smooth that it almost felt like water slipping through his fingers. Packed along with the kinomo was a beautifully crafted haori, a simple yet beautiful crane woven into the haori in white, the details done so carefully that when worn, the crane moves with the shifting of the fabric. The packet also came with a matching hakama made from the luxurious fabric, and a beautiful kaku obi made from navy blue, white and silver carefully weaved together into in a beautiful talent.

It was because of the level of craftsman ship that had Sukuna curious - who was the mastermind of something so beautiful?

He had went to the town where the garment was from and after some digging about, discovered about you. A daughter to a family of tailors, you were quite well known for your talents in embroidery and your mastery of the loom. Having gotten such talents, you crafted many beautiful pieces, and one of them was gifted to Sukuna himself recently.

When he first saw you, he was struck by your beauty; how you had such a warm smile no matter who you were referring to. How your movements were graceful yet swift, your needle and threat embroidering the most beautiful depections of animals and flowers without a single mistake. How your voice was so sweet and calming that he can physically feel the tension from his body starting to unwind ever so slightly. If he could, he’d love to listen to your voice forever - which was what he intended to do.

The first time you two met was actually in the dead of the night; you had stayed up later then usual, carefully embroidering a water lily onto a long fabric for a personal tapestry you wanted to hang in your room. A candle was burning by your work table, casting the engawa of your home in a soft but comforting glow; enough for you to do your work without straining too much. You were so fucsed on your work that you didn’t notice how the flames of your candle started to flicker in the glass holder; even though there was the air was still. Your eyes didn’t trail up from your tapestry even as a large figure quietly entered the hallway you were in; only pausing when you felt a huge presence looming over you.

Your bright eyes flickered upwards and met with four pairs of ruby red ones staring right back at you; all four of them shining in amusement. “You are quite oblivious, little one.” Sukuna hummed out with a soft grin, to which you just gave him a confused look as you tilted your head ever so slightly. “How did you get into my house?” You asked quietly, not even acknowledging how the man before you looked very different from what you’re used to; from the four muscular arms sprouting out from underneath the dark blue haori, the very same one that you had made for him. to the extra pair of eyes he sported on his face. Or how the top of his head was clearly brushing against the simple weed roofing of your family home.

“Is that really the first thing you’re going to ask, little one?”

From that day onwards, things definitely went a lot smoother then Sukuna could have imagined. At first the lack of reaction from you confused him, but he found it quite amusing nonetheless. Even after finding out that he was the same deity that you had heard stories of since you were in diapers, you acted no differently around him. You still talked and laughed with him like he was any other human. which for some reason made his heart feel warm and fuzzy. It makes him want to gather you up in his arms, protecting you from the horrors of the world.

The two of you will continue to meet up in the night like secret lovers; many nights he’d just lean against one of the pillars of your family home, with you perched in his lap as you work on different projects every night; talking about things that happen that day, or the funny stories that the townsfolk would share with you whenever they drop by to mend and purchase clothes, or when they dropped off freshly dyed fabrics. During a few of these nights Sukuna had suggested if you can help him mend a few of his kimonos, which you agreed to without hesitation. Some days you’d ever create new kimonos for him as well, which he would wear quite proudly.

Soon these innocent nights of talking and laughter, him watching you do your work under the moonlight, to having you gasping and crying out for him as he took you over and over again in his grand bedroom; watching quite gleefully as he corrupted your innocence, ruining you for any other man. Ever since the first night you two shared in his bed, he knew that there was no turning back - there was no one else for him but you.

And there was no way he was going to let some puny human even try to get in between the both of you.

With that he whisked you away from the somewhat mundane and boring life in your town, making you his entire world. He showered you with the finest gifts and opened the more human side of him to you; one that he thought he had lost the moment he had decided to go down the path he did. But you pulled these emotions out from him with ease, making him realise that he can chase all the power he want till the end of time and that will never satisfy him completely.

All he needed was you, and everything feels right in the world.

“I’ve lost you again, haven’t I?”

Sukuna’s eyes snapped towards the direction of your sleepy voice, watching how you gave him the most beautiful yet sleepy smile as you carefully shifted your body so it was pressed against his. He marveled how your naked bodies clicked together seamlessly, even with the clear size difference between the two of you. “You will always have my attention, flower.”

The sound of the simple nickname cause a small smile tug against the corner of your lips, remembering how that nickname came about. You have always love studying flowers, since you enjoyed embroidering different sorts of flora and fauna onto different tapestries that now adorned the walls of the home you two share. You had once told him about your love of flowers, and because of that, you had came home one day to the courtyard in your shared home turned into your private garden; with flowers from all across the country planted at every nook and cranny.

When you had asked Sukuna about it, he just shrugs and gave you an indulge smile - as if asking were you really shocked by his gift to you. When he realised just how deep your love for nature was, he had started to call you ‘his flower’, and the name has stuck since then. “What a sweet talker.”

A chuckle rumbled deep within his chest as one of his hands found purchase along your back, starting to massage what he was sure were your sore muscles; watching in satisfaction as you melted more into his chest. “Only for you.” He admitted quietly, to which you just gave him a loving smile as you rest your cheek against his chest once more; a soft finger started to trace along the tattoos on his skin. This action caused him to relax further into the futon, sighing softly in content. “Sukuna? Can we take a bath?”

“I’m lazy.” Sukuna stated with a soft groan as he glanced down at you once more, only to be met by the soft pout that you just know gets him to give in. This caused him to scowl as he cupped your face in one of his hands, gently squishing your cheeks between his fingers as he pushes himself up into a seated position. “You little minx.” He growls playfully whilst you just gave him a teasing smile, straddling his lap with your legs on either side of his whilst one of your hands wrapped around his wrist; causing him to loosen his grip on you whilst letting out a loud sigh. “How annoying.”

His arms suddenly wrapped around you before he got up from the comfort of the warm futon, causing you to giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Let’s go, flower.” He sighs dramatically before he walked you both to the bathroom, causing you to perk up before you lean over to press a loving kiss against his cheek; ignoring his soft eyeroll at your act of affection. As if he didn’t enjoy it whenever you do so. “I love you.”

“Of course you do.” He teases before he started to walk you two towards the bathroom, one of his hands skimming down to the small of your pack where a beautiful black tattoo rested against your soft skin; a tattoo that looks similar to the black lines that adorned his own skin. “You’re mine, after all.” He stated simply, causing you to roll your eyes at him playfully as he carefully sat you down on the wooden steps leading to the opening of the ofuro; watching as Sukuna started to prepare the bath for the both of you. “Wouldn’t it kill for you to just be a little nicer to me?”

Your teasing tone clearly didn’t win any points with him, who narrowed his eyes at you and before you know it you were suddenly pinned down against the wooden steps. A soft giggle left your lips at the narrowed eyes that stared back at you, causing Sukuna to scowl softly at your reaction. “Now you’re just asking for it, flower.” He growled before diving down to meet your lips in a passionate kiss; not being able to mask his smile at the sound of your soft laughter just as you wrapped your arms around him once more.

"My little flower..”

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna imagine #ryomen sukuna imagines #sukuna x reader

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wordsnwhiskey · 4 years ago

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As It Should Be | Chapter 5: Breaking In The Newbies

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader x Frankie Morales

Summary: After a rough and emotional night, Frankie makes a decision on Jack’s offer. Before they can get to that though, the morning debrief with Champ brings back a familiar face and Jack has you and Frankie teach the junior agents a lesson during combat training.

Rating: M

Warnings: Canon typical violence, guns, swearing, discussions about safewords.

A/N: Alright, a lot of stuff needed to happen here and we’re going to have a little action and see Frankie show off a bit. It was important to me that the discussion of safe words and Jack checking again for consent happened in a chapter separate from the actual smut. For me, it further emphasizes that Jack doesn’t want Frankie to feel pressured to accept or do anything he doesn’t want to because it’s “in the moment”. Consent is sexy, friends.

I have to give my love and thanks to mi esposa @danniburgh and my friend Agent Capri Sun for the beta reads, the fantastic constructive criticism and encouragement!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Chapter 4: Company | AO3 | Art

The morning sun stirred Frankie. Even with his eyes still closed, he could tell the room was alight, but the warmth that surrounded him had nothing to do with the sun and everything to do with the body next to him. He opened his eyes and realized he was definitely not in Whiskey’s guest bedroom. Instead, he was very much curled into Whiskey’s lightly rising chest. Frankie blushed, very unused to being the little spoon, and moreover, not used to someone’s morning wood poking at him. Whiskey was gently roused from sleep by Frankie’s small movements. He lifted his arm from around Frankie’s waist and stretched.

“G’morning Flyboy. You were having nightmares, so I brought you in here.

“Oh, sorry for waking you up and… thank you.” Frankie felt guilt sting at his throat.

Whiskey grunted and rolled out of bed to go shower.

“Nothing to worry about, partner. I’m no stranger to those kinds of nightmares.”

Frankie was grateful Whiskey understood and made no effort to pry. With a grunt of his own, Frankie got up from the bed and made his way to the kitchen, intent on trying to get coffee going while Whiskey showered.

Whiskey finished his shower and stepped out to dry off, then wrapped his towel around his waist. He was drawn to the kitchen by the smell of coffee, Frankie’s initiative quirking the corners of his mouth into a small smile. He leaned against the kitchen counter and watched as Frankie poured their coffee, handing Whiskey’s to him black. Jack hummed his approval, a sound which he noted made Frankie preen a bit.

“Good boy.” Jack gestured to the coffee with a small wink as the air seemed to be pushed from Frankie’s lungs. “Now, as much as I enjoy the view of you in just my shorts, let's get you into something you can wear at the office.”

Frankie was rooted to the spot, Jack’s “good boy” ringing in his ears and sending a wave of warmth throughout his entire body. Jack didn’t comment, just let his smirk speak for itself as he took his coffee back to his room and opened the doors to his closet. His fingers tabbed at a few of the hanging suits as he looked back to see that Frankie had finally uprooted himself and joined him.

“We’re similar in build, so you ought to be able to pull off one of my suits…”

Frankie winced.

“Right, well then, let’s go with something a touch more casual.

Jack grabbed a pair of jeans, a blue button down, white t-shirt, belt, and socks, handing each article of clothing over to Frankie as he moved around his closet.

“There, that should do you. Comfortable, but still presentable for Statesman.”

Jack gave him a smile only to notice Frankie shifting his weight.

“Thanks,” came Frankie’s reply as he turned to get dressed. He didn’t mind going without boxers, but the sudden realization that he needed more clothes of his own hit Frankie as he dressed in the clothes Jack had given him.

“Hey Jack?”

Whiskey hummed in acknowledgement as he finished getting dressed himself: jeans, suspenders, white button down shirt, and a navy wool blazer.

“I was thinking about your offer last night, and… I’d like that.”

Whiskey turned to look at Frankie, giving him a once over, distantly thinking about how good Frankie looked in his clothes, and a mischievous smile lit up Whiskey’s face.

“I’m looking forward to it, Flyboy. We’ll discuss things a bit more at the end of the day in my office. It’s about as close to neutral territory as we’re gonna get for that conversation. For today though, I want you to be a good boy and stick to me like a shadow. We’re meeting with Champ first thing. Then, we’re gonna have some fun.”

Frankie nodded, rocking back on his heels for a moment, then fell in step with Whiskey as they headed out, both of them grabbing their respective hats as they went. The ride in Whiskey’s Bronco was quiet, and soon enough they were riding the elevator up to their floor in the Statesman tower.

You were seated at the conference table facing the double doors with Pope to your right.

“You sleep alright, Pope? Hope Ginger didn’t keep you too late.”

“She’s something, that’s for sure, Hawk, but she did let me go, eventually.”

He gave you a good natured laugh that slowly lost its shine.

“You hear from Fish, Hawk? Ginger told me where she put him up and I went to check on him last night, but he never answered.”

Worry bloomed in your chest, not that it had really gone away after seeing Frankie leave yesterday. You figured if he wanted or needed to talk, he would have reached out to you. Honestly, you had hoped he would have checked in with Pope at some point since he probably felt more comfortable with him. Just then, the conference double doors opened, giving way as Jack strode in, greeting you with a smile and tilt of his head. Relief eased the tension in your chest and shoulders when Frankie followed closely behind Jack. Your eyes darted over to Whiskey, fixing him with a questioning gaze as you realized the clothes Frankie was wearing belonged to Jack.

“Fish!” Pope practically jumped out of his chair, rushing over to Frankie with a duffle bag in tow. “I was worried about you, hermano. I went to the hotel, but you didn’t answer.”

To Frankie’s credit, his face didn’t betray much, but both you and Pope knew that Frankie didn’t have any other clothes aside from what he had left with.

“Uh, yeah, must’ve just missed you.”

You could tell Pope was filing the information away for later. Your eyes wandered to Jack’s again and you raised an eyebrow. At least you now had an idea why he had cancelled on you last night.

“Here, Fish. I figured you’d want your go bag.”

“Gracias, hermano.”

They clasped arms, then took their seats. Frankie grabbed the orange tinted glasses he had left the day before and put them on, adjusting them on the bridge of his nose. His gaze fell to yours and he gave you a small smile, but before you could say anything, Champ’s holo image flickered to life.

“Catfish! You’re looking mighty fine! Much better than yesterday.”

“Yes sir, thanks.”

Champ nodded. He’d been worried about how the man would fare, especially considering the news yesterday.

“Right, down to the business at hand. It does appear that a new cartel is making their play at center stage, picking up where Poppy left off. They’re not following Poppy’s business model, though. From what we understand, the group is headed by four individuals: Isabella Gómez, Duke Hernández, Steven Weisel and Emily Weisel. They’ve taken to calling themselves La Linda Rosa, likely after the Red Agent flowers. Up until now, they’ve been your run of the mill cartel, but it’s our belief that the Weisels have been instrumental in their production and processing of Agent Red. Recently, the Weisels purchased land in Colombia, and from our drone coverage, they may have set up processing plants there. We don’t know why the sudden shift to Agent Red, though. The plants themselves go for $500k per plant, and they take time to mature. We don’t think the Weisels are responsible for acquiring the plants, so that leaves either Isabella or Duke.”

Frankie’s attention drifted from Champ to the pictures on the screen and swore.

“Fuck. Pope, you know who that is, right? I thought they were in Australia?”

Pope did a double take, recognizing his old informant’s brother. The Statesman stared at the two men, waiting for them to elaborate. Frankie sighed and settled into his seat a bit more, knee bouncing anxiously.

“Four years ago, Pope came to me and the rest of our old team to take out Gabriel Martín Lorea and make out with the money he had stockpiled. Pope’s CI, Yovanna, and her brother, Duke, both worked for Lorea. In exchange for helping us, Pope got the brother out of jail and we dropped them off in Peru with papers to Australia and $3M. Looks like Duke wasn’t satisfied with life in Australia.”

Ginger frowned and pulled up Duke’s known associates, Yovanna’s picture following the others on screen.

“Yovanna appears to still be living in Australia, but it’s possible Duke grabbed the money and ran.”

Frankie closed his eyes, lifting his cap and carding his fingers through his hair before placing the hat back on his head and sighing.

“What’s the plan? Sounds like the plants and processing facilities need to be taken out, and then there’s the compound, too.”

Pope nodded, then sighed as well. This was bringing back memories for the both of them.

“We’ll also need to be wary of the local agencies. They’ll be on the lookout for anyone suspicious, especially if it’s anything like how it was with Lorea.”

Champ nodded and tilted his head to Ginger.

“We’re doing our own recon and then we’ll break out teams. Pope, Catfish, we’d like you to at least help with intel, and given your experience in taking down Lorea, if you’re up for it, I’d like you both on the compound assault team.”

You saw Pope and Frankie share a look, Frankie’s jaw clenched and then he nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

“Great, not to worry boys, Statesman has the best resources, stateside or otherwise. For now, I’m sure we can keep you plenty busy. Whiskey, don’t forget, today is your day for combat training with the new recruits. Bourbon, Cranberry needs you to test equipment in the lab later today.”

“Pope, could you actually stick around again for a bit? I’ve got some more intel I want to run through with you.” Ginger chimed in, and you were surprised he didn’t grimace at the idea of being locked in a room for hours again.

With that, the meeting was over, Champ’s holo image disappeared and they took their glasses off. Jack stood up and Frankie was quick to follow him, much to your intrigue. You stood up as well. You were eager to watch Jack have his way with the new agents. It was always fun. Whiskey seemed to know you would be following and beckoned for you to enter his office first, followed by Frankie, and Jack closed the door behind him.

“Go ahead and set your bag down wherever you’d like, Flyboy.”

Frankie dropped his bag in a corner then promptly started to rifle through it, pulling his shoes out and quickly swapping his dress shoes for them. He let out a sigh of relief as he rolled up on the balls of his feet and rocked back on his heels. He hated dress shoes.

You took a short minute to admire Frankie in the blue button down while he rolled up his sleeves. Jack’s fingers wrapped around your wrist and he tugged you into him.

“Missed you, darlin’.”

Smiling, you took his face in your hands and tugged him down for a kiss.

“Missed you too, Jack.”

You murmured against his lips, and you resolved not to ask about last night. Whatever happened, Frankie must have reached out to Jack, not you or Santi, and you’d leave it at that. Jack hummed contentedly for a moment before he pulled back and winked at you.

“Are you coming to watch us break in the newbies, darlin’? I was thinking you and Flyboy could do the first demo.”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously, but there was a playfulness in them as well.

“Us?” You questioned Jack with a raised eyebrow.

“First demo?” Came Frankie’s question as he whirled around to face you and Whiskey.

Jack’s smile broadened and he started out of his office and towards the elevator, expecting you and Frankie to follow.

“What are we demoing, Whiskey?”Frankie asked, more pointedly this time.

“Well, our newbies are scheduled to learn about disarms and what happens when the enemy goes for their gun. I thought it’d be good to have them start out seeing Bourbon disarm you.”

Frankie huffed as he crossed his arms and leaned against the elevator wall. You smiled as you leaned against the wall opposite Frankie.

“It’ll be just like old times, Fish.”

He groaned and shook his head.

“Why have me do the demo though? I’m not a Statesman agent.”

Before you could respond to reassure Frankie, Jack chimed in, eyeing him with nothing short of gleeful mischief. Jack enjoyed breaking the new agents in almost a little too much sometimes, but it was good for them, and he was good at it.

“No, you’re not, you’re ex-Delta Force, Frankie. These agents have had plenty of training, but they don’t have your experience, Flyboy. They’re gonna learn the difference today.”

Jack shared a similar philosophy with you when it came to combat training and sparring. You had been a terror in hand-to-hand, still were, you were proud to say. You knew there was often a size disadvantage, but you had learned to use your opponent’s momentum against them, and more importantly, you didn’t follow convention. In sparring matches, most people fought like they were sparring, which was fine for beginning, but there was a big difference between practicing and being in an actual fight. You never advocated for an all out brawl, but you refused to follow the typical learned pattern that people naturally gravitated towards. Tom had been predictable and a sore loser. Will was predictable but sweet. Benny, well, there was a reason he was semi-pro, which left Santi and Frankie. Santiago was fun, and you had lost your fair share of matches to both him and Benny. Frankie had a spark in his eyes when he sparred, but no matter how hard you had tried to get him to let go, he refused. It had nothing to do with anything silly like you being a woman, more to do with the fact that Frankie never seemed to just let himself go in that way. You had only seen him let go a bit twice, both times in the field and well worn down by the day.

The elevator dinging startled you out of your reverie, and you followed right behind Jack towards the training room. Frankie assumed they would be entering a gym of sorts, but he was sorely mistaken, and he realized the ‘floor’ they were on must have been composed of several. The ‘room’ was really more of a training complex housed in the unassuming tower. To the right, a group of 20 people stood, waiting. He gave them a cursory glance, and then his eyes were pulled to the range. He’d definitely have to visit to let off some stress. He followed as you and Whiskey led the way to the group of agents and hung back slightly as the group stood to attention.

“Well, look at this promising group of newbies, Bourbon. D’you think they’re up for today’s lesson?”

You let the smirk on your lips turn into a full crooked smile, you had more than a small idea as to what Jack was going to do. Looking over your shoulder, you caught Frankie’s eye and nodded for him to join you.

“I don’t know, Whiskey, simple concept, but we’ll see what their execution is like. My money is on our guy.”

The agents before you bristled, full of young pride that was well-earned. Whiskey’s hand clasped over Frankie’s shoulder as he introduced him to the new agents.

“Y’all are in for a treat. Our friend, Catfish, here, has generously volunteered to help train you on close quarters combat and disarms. Bourbon will demo the defense first. Catfish,” Whiskey took a pistol from the long table off to the side and handed it to Frankie. “Your objective is simple: shoot a blank at Bourbon.”

Frankie’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and his eyes sought yours to make sure you were comfortable. An answering smile was good enough for him, and he checked the pistol, confirming there were no live rounds, before looking back up at you. The two of you easily slid into a ready position, and Jack gestured for the new agents to give you some room.

“Halcón, when you go for the takedown, ten cuidado con mi espalda. Ya no soy joven.” [be careful with my back. I’m not young anymore.]

It only mildly annoyed you that he already knew you were going to go for the takedown, after priding yourself on your spontaneity earlier, but you pushed that out of your mind as you both stood a few steps apart. There would be a split second when Frankie pulled his pistol and took a readying step. That would be where you would have an opening and make your move. A tense handful of seconds that seemed to stretch on filled the air. Jack watched the new agents, the tension between you and Frankie seemed to embed itself in the junior agents’ lungs as they all waited with bated breath.

Nothing telegraphed Frankie’s quick movements as he drew his pistol, but on instinct, your body was moving. He saw your left hand fly out to redirect his momentum and push his gun hand away, quickly shifting to plant his weight, keeping you from landing the takedown this early. The training you and Frankie had received taught you to be efficient and end things quickly. That was easier said when you had spent years training together. The junior agents seemed to still be holding their breath while you traded blows. Your moment of opportunity came, and you took it. Frankie seemed to understand what was happening but his balance was off. You stepped into him, your hip bumping his as your hand came to grip over the top of his pistol. The next thing everyone knew, you were both on the ground, the gun skittering harmlessly away, and Frankie’s arm in an arm bar. He grunted and quickly tapped at your leg to surrender, and you let him go. The class was quiet until Whiskey broke the silence as you helped Frankie to his feet.

“I hope you lot were paying attention to Catfish here, he did a great job demonstrating what to do when facing a difficult opponent like Bourbon. For this exercise, the rest of you will attempt to take a shot at Catfish and he will disarm you by whatever means he deems necessary.”

You can’t help but let out a small laugh, knowing Whiskey was being intentional with his wording.The laugh died quickly, however, at the words of one of the junior agents.

“How was that a good example? He lost, he was disarmed. We should be practicing against someone better, who would last longer.”

At your side, you saw Frankie stand up straighter, his feet moving shoulder width apart as his hands clasped behind his back and he fixed the younger agent with a steely gaze. Even as his breathing remained calm, it was obvious the words had gotten to him. Whiskey’s good natured grin turned into a smug smirk.

“Davis,” Whiskey began, calling the man out by his last name and emphasizing he hadn’t earned a Statesman moniker. “Since you’re so eager, by all means, approach Catfish when you’re ready and show us how your Statesman training fares.”

Frankie kept his gaze leveled at the cocky junior agent, noticing in his periphery that you had moved away to give them plenty of room. Davis moved to be a few steps in front of him. Frankie continued to hold the stare as he questioned Whiskey.

“Are you sure about this, Whiskey?”

Whiskey nodded, Frankie’s gaze flickering over to him for the briefest of seconds, then he brought his hands to a loose ready position at his sides. Davis drew his pistol, but Frankie grabbed the barrel with his left hand, stepped forward and hooked his right foot behind Davis’ lead leg and pushed on the agent’s chest with his right hand. Davis went down, but found himself suspended by Frankie’s hold on his shirt. The class was filled with littered gasps and snickers. The ‘fight’ was over before it had really begun. Frankie helped right the agent and stepped aside to let him retrieve his firearm.

“Attaboy, Catfish! Davis, looks like you’ve got some work to do. Here’s another lesson, agents: Statesman agents aren’t your only competition out there. We’ve got some fancy gear and trainin’ here, but there’s a world of intelligence agents and mercs out there. Catfish served with Bourbon, and that should tell you all you need to know.” He paused a moment to let the information sink in as Davis returned to the line to lick his wounds. Then Whiskey called the next agent.

Frankie breathed in, then out through his nose, and got ready. As they went, the junior agents in waiting began to pick up on a few of his techniques, and he had to adjust, but time spent practicing and training at Benny’s gym had prepared him well for this.

You watched as Jack’s eyes danced while he followed Frankie’s movements. The circumstances earlier had prevented him from truly appreciating how efficient and capable the quiet man was. The last of the junior agents had made their attempt and consequently failed. Frankie’s breath was coming more unevenly now, and rightly so. What he had gone through would be exhausting for anyone.

“Well done, everyone, a round of applause to Catfish for taking the time to demonstrate y’all have a lot to learn before getting approved for field work. Now go on and line up at the range and get warmed up. We’ll be running sims next.”

The junior agents dispersed to the range towards the back of the room. Frankie let out a breath and rolled his shoulders to let out some of the tension he had been carrying, then started heading for the range, eager to let off some more steam.

“Where do you think you’re going, partner?”

Frankie frowned, his eyes darting between you and Whiskey in confusion.

“I thought we were going to go shoot?”

Jack smiled then winked at Frankie.

“They’re warming up, you still have one more person to disarm, Flyboy.”

Frankie’s fingers twitched, and you could see that the exercise earlier had worn at his usual restraint.

“No lasso.”

Whiskey handed you his lasso, then unloaded his revolvers and passed you the ammo. He holstered his revolvers again and stepped into position in front of Frankie. You watched as a new kind of energy seemed to crackle between them, and some of the junior agents seemed to sense it, stopping to watch as well.

Whiskey was fast, but training at the boxing gym had helped Frankie with his speed. As Whiskey drew his revolver, Frankie sprung forward. He didn’t bother to grab the gun. Instead, he brought his fist down on the barrel, sending it skittering away. Whiskey’s fist connected with Frankie’s side, and you heard, rather than saw, Frankie’s reservations fall away with a snarl. He took hold of the inside of Jack’s blazer, grabbing the grip of the other revolver holstered there and made to pull it out and take the ‘shot’. Jack’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He hadn’t expected Frankie to go on the offensive, but he found he was impressed. He liked a challenge. Before Frankie could draw the revolver from the holster, Jack grabbed his wrists and wrenched them down, then back up quickly to break Frankie’s hold, and then Jack threw them both to the ground. Both men recovered quickly, but in the chaos, the revolver had fallen to the ground and Frankie scrambled for it. Just as his fingertips touched cold metal, Whiskey’s whip flicked the revolver further away, and they closed the distance to grapple with each other again.

Your match with Frankie had been a well practiced dance, and this was too, in its own right. However, where yours had been fluid, Whiskey and Frankie were bordering on feral. For a moment, it appeared that Frankie had gotten the upper hand. Whiskey staggered backwards, about to fall, but as he went, he flicked his whip, the corded length wrapping around Frankie’s throat. He tugged, sending them both to the ground. Frankie grunted and struggled against the snare he was in. Whiskey wasted no time in scrambling up and pinning Frankie, his knee to the pilot’s back. Frankie continued to struggle until Whiskey leaned down so that only the other man could hear.

“Easy now, Tiger, save your strength for tonight. You did good.”

Frankie relaxed under Jack’s weight and nodded. Whiskey got off of him with a grunt and unwound the corded length of the whip from Frankie’s neck, then pressed a button on the handle to recall it. He helped Frankie up and dusted him off a bit.

A few of the junior agents were still watching in awe. It was rare to see a senior agent like you or Whiskey truly need to put some effort in, and to see it twice in one day was something else entirely. You walked over to the two men and put your hand on Frankie’s shoulder.

“You did great, Fish, nice to see you let loose for once.”

He scoffed good naturedly and swooped to pick his hat up from off the ground.

“You guys had quite the audience while you were at it, too.” Your smile was barely contained as you raised an eyebrow at Jack.

This time it was Whiskey’s turn to scoff.

“Well, I hope they’ve been practicing. They’ll be running the sim after Frankie does.”

Whiskey patted Frankie on his shoulder then gestured for him to follow. He led him to an enclosed area that occupied the majority of the left side of the training complex. A small structure that looked like a house sat inside the enclosure, and you knew it was furnished to match whatever simulation scenario had been determined. Whiskey stopped at a table just outside of the enclosure and gestured to the rifle, combat knife, folder, and headset.

“Alright, Flyboy, I know you’ve done this sort of exercise before. Your brief is on the table there. Good luck.”

You and Whiskey walked a bit further along the enclosure to two screens. One cycled through a variety of camera angles while the other would connect to the headset once Frankie turned it on.

“You’re really having Frankie run the simulation?”

Whiskey nodded, “I didn’t have him help with the demo just to teach those newbies a lesson, darlin’. He’s been through hell, and I figured getting him to work through some of that in sparring and the sim would help. That, and, well… you can’t blame me for bein’ curious, Bourbon. Last time I got to see what he could do, we were a bit busy trying not to get shot.”

You can’t help but to chuckle and shake your head, your attention going back to Frankie as he geared up.

“Frankie turns into a different person on missions sometimes, used to scare the hell out of people on base who saw it. No one ever suspected it because he was always the quiet one, but he’s just as competitive as the rest of the guys on the team. He was just always scary good at keeping a level head and focusing on the mission. You’ll see.”

Frankie put on the kit provided for him then flipped through the brief before lowering the headset and advancing. The brief had been fairly simple: infiltrate the compound, rescue the target, and escort the target to the exfil location. They even provided a decent description of the target. The virtual course populated guards patrolling the 3 entrances. He opted for the path of least resistance with only 2 guards posted.

From the screen, you and Jack could see Frankie take a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing even as he crept towards the two guards. You knew it was because he was willing himself to let go, to let his instincts and muscle memory take over. He was lightning fast as his knife came out and he landed brutal and precise fatal blows to the targets on the screen. In a normal situation, he would hide the bodies but the miracle of technology meant he didn’t have to. It was beautiful in a devastating way to watch Frankie move with such confidence, stealth, and precision. He peered around a hallway, noting the sudden influx of guards and catching a glimpse of red at the end of the hall. The brief had indicated the target would be in red, and it made sense that there would be more guards to ensure the target didn’t run off. He counted five hostiles in the hallway.

Five guards, five bullets.

Once he had downed the hostiles, Frankie stepped through the hallway, catching a glimpse of the target and swore at how cliché the scenario was. The brief had just said the target had last been seen wearing red.

“¡Me están jodiendo! ¿En serio? ¿Una mujer en un vestido rojo?” [They’re fucking with me. Really? A woman in a red dress?]

You could both hear Frankie through the mic link in his headset, and you couldn’t help but laugh. It quickly died as you and Whiskey tensed. The woman in red was a decoy, one that statistically caught the majority of users by surprise.

“Ma’am, are you-” She moved just barely and he saw the glint of where a gun was holstered. Frankie didn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he fired a shot to her chest and grumbled to himself before moving on. Normally, it wouldn’t have taken him that long to figure it out.

Whiskey whistled, thoroughly impressed. It wasn’t long after that Frankie found the real target and reached the ‘exfil location’.

“Damn, sweetheart, you sure picked a good one.”

He winked at you, and you grinned back as Frankie pulled off the headset and his kit, then walked over to you.

“Alright, agents! Catfish successfully completed the sim in 15 minutes, that’s your time to beat!”

A chorus of groans echoed in the training room. Whiskey ignored them and clapped Frankie on his shoulder.

“You did good, Flyboy, really set the bar high. Most people get caught up by the decoy.”

Frankie’s chest puffed out a little at the praise, but he was soon shaking his head. Before he could deflect the compliment, Whiskey squeezed his shoulder.

“Feeling hungry, Flyboy? Figured the three of us could grab a quick lunch before Cran steals Bourbon here away from us.”

“Yeah, I’m starving. Didn’t expect you to keep me busy like that.”

Vermouth entered the training room, and you waved him down.

“Hey, Vermouth! Watch the junior agents for us. Whiskey’s just got them running the sim. We’re going to go grab lunch!”

Without waiting for Vermouth’s answer, you grabbed Whiskey and Frankie’s hands, dragging them out of the training room and to the elevator.

“There’s a deli not far from the office we can walk to, and it’s late enough that we should miss the rush.”

Walking arm in arm with both of your boys, you could think of very few things better than right now. You didn’t care that you were in the middle of downtown New York. All that mattered was Whiskey on your right, and Frankie on your left.

Frankie did his best to relax and not let his anxiety and internal struggles get the best of him. Whiskey’s words echoed in his mind: “When it comes to me and Bourbon, keep an open mind and try not to overthink it.” That was a lot easier said than done, but he was working on it.

You were right, the timing made it so that you had missed the lunch rush. You all ordered your food, Whiskey stepping in to pay with a look that silenced both you and Frankie, then you all went to sit down.

Whiskey practically sprawled in his chair, his legs encroaching your space under the table and Frankie’s space next to him. Frankie sat somewhat stiffly but the more he ate, the more he seemed to relax. You nudge his foot with yours playfully to grab his attention.

“How’s your back? Mr. Ya-no-soy-joven.”

The three of you laughed, and Frankie shook his head with a wide grin on his face.

“I’m not! Gotta leave that shit for the young guys who think they’re invincible.”

“Young guys like Davis?” You shot back, smug on Frankie’s behalf.

“Cocky kid had it coming.”

There was no anger in Frankie’s eyes, only the slightest lilt of mirth in his voice as his gaze met yours, then Whiskey’s. Whiskey leaned forward and barked a laugh while patting Frankie on the back.

“He sure did. The lot of them were in need of a reality check. That’s why Champ specifically likes to have me or Bourbon take at least one pass at our junior agents. After all those hours spent training, they tend to forget that there are much bigger fish out there.”

Conversation flowed easily between them for the rest of their lunch. It reminded Frankie of the prior morning, when they were enjoying breakfast and everything just felt right. It felt as if all of the pieces of the puzzle were coming together, and this time, this time, it didn’t feel fleeting.

Walking to the office was much more comfortable than the walk to the deli had been. You noticed that Frankie was far less stiff under your touch on his arm, even leaning into you occasionally. You parted ways in the elevator. You were heading to the lab to play guinea pig for Cranberry, and your boys were headed upstairs to Whiskey’s office. Frankie seemed hesitant to let you go, and you did your best not to spook him, your heart fluttering in your chest.

Given everything that had happened, things needed to be almost wholly in Frankie’s court, at least until he was more comfortable around you. You had certainly noticed, however, how easily Frankie and Whiskey seemed to allow each other into their respective spaces. The elevator doors closed behind you as you strode down the hall. You were glad that they were comfortable together, though. It had definitely been a concern of yours, considering their respective pasts, but you also thought that there was the potential for them to relate and understand each other better than most.

The rest of the day passed by slowly, and as directed, Frankie remained Jack’s shadow. Jack did his best to keep from laughing when 5pm rolled around and Frankie began to subconsciously bounce his knee. He was scrolling on his phone, lower lip pulled between his teeth and brow furrowed as he tried to focus on whatever was on the screen.

You knocked on Jack’s open office door, raising an eyebrow when you saw Frankie startle at the sound. He wasn’t usually this jumpy. Jack’s gaze met yours, and you could see the amusement and mischief that bubbled in his eyes.

“Hey there, darlin’, you getting ready to head out for the night?”

“Just about, wanted to come see my boys before I do.”

Frankie’s knee stopped bouncing at your words, his phone falling into his lap as he looked up at you. You motion for him to scoot over a bit as you sit down on the couch next to him and rest your chin on your hand.

“We’re still on for dinner tomorrow, right?”

You posed the question to the room in general, even though the three of you knew that it was really directed towards Frankie.

“Uh yeah, I’m-I’m looking forward to dinner tomorrow,” Frankie says after clearing his throat and gives you both a shy smile. Leaning over, you take his large hand in your own and give it a squeeze.

“Great!” Standing up from the couch, you smooth your clothes, give Frankie a kiss on his cheek, and then kiss Jack. “I’ll find us a place, and we’ll figure it out more tomorrow. Night, Frankie. Night, Jack.”

A minute later, you’re gone, and suddenly there’s nothing keeping Frankie’s mind off of the time, which is painfully close to 6pm, when Jack said he’d be done with work. The moment the clock turned that final, eternal minute, Frankie sat up straight, attentive, and alert as his eyes watched Whiskey.

Jack leaned back in his chair, stretching, then relocated next to Frankie on the couch.

“I don’t want you to feel obligated to do anything tonight, Flyboy. If you feel like you’re not up for it, we’ll just grab dinner and head home.”

Frankie shook his head and took a steadying breath.

“No, I want this. I-I could really use it, Jack.”

Whiskey nodded, eyes wandering over Frankie as he adjusted on the couch.

“Alright, I use the green, yellow, red system. You need me to stop for whatever reason, call red, and that’s it, no questions, no hard feelings or fuss. I’ll get you cleaned up and help you come down. Sound good?”

Frankie nodded, his tongue suddenly thick and his mouth dry in anticipation. Jack tutted.

“I need you to use your words, Flyboy.”

Frankie swallowed, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

“I understand, s-sounds good.”

“Good. Now…” Jack pulled a small pad of stationary paper and a pen from the side table. “I want you to write out what you’re ok with and any hard or soft limits you have.”

Frankie nodded, then took the pen and paper and began writing.

[click for better quality]

A blush took hold of Frankie as he handed it back.

“It’s what I can come up with off the top of my head, for tonight at least. I’ll let you know if anything else comes up though.”

Jack’s eyes were dark as he perused the list, looking up from the paper to Frankie, he stood up with a smile.

“C’mon Flyboy… we’re gonna have some fun tonight.”

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jimlingss · 4 years ago

Note

Speaking of AUs and plots, OC damages someones car by accident and instead of money they want to be paid back in dates.

Anonymous said: For the request: “I can make you a deal you can’t refuse.”

↳ Auto Date Claim

2.3k || 100% Light Fluff || Kim Seokjin

Seokjin grips the steering wheel.

He blows through the yellow light even though he should’ve stopped but there’s no time to waste, not when the last thing he wants is to be late for the meeting. Everything has to be perfect.

Which is what makes this phone call the worst.

“I’m not coming.”

“What?!” Jin looks to the display screen where there’s Jisoo’s name as if he can telepathically send her his exasperated expression. “Why not?!”

“You know why. I don’t want to be a doll that’s supposed to sit there silently, Seokjin. I’m done.”

“No. Please. You know how important this meeting is to me. You can’t be doing this—”

“Oh, yes I can.”

She hangs up. Seokjin groans, the urge to slam his forehead against the steering wheel overwhelming. But he resists and when he gets to the next red light, he frantically calls Yoongi.

The dial tone rings over his car speakers and then the man picks up. Yoongi is calm by nature and there’s little that can faze him. But now, his voice pitches up every so slightly. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you on your way to meeting the Jeon’s?”

“Yeah, but Jisoo just called to tell me she’s not coming.”

“Oh shit.”

Family. Marriage. Commitment. They’re essential pillars for the Jeon’s who’ve been married for fifty years. They’re old school, the epitome of tradition. The plan was for Jin to look like a family man too, to add to his own integrity and to show that he shares the Jeon’s company values. And everything matters when it comes to the contract they’ve been trying to sign for the past year. A minuscule detail like this could tip the scales and make the Jeon’s sign with the competitor instead.

“Is Irene there?” Jin asks as he drives. “Maybe she can come instead.”

“She’s already running an errand for Hoseok. Just...make something up. Maybe you can say—”

At the exact same time, as Seokjin stops for a red light, the entire car jolts forward without warning. He nearly slams his head on the wheel — this time, unintentionally.

What the fuc—

“Yoongi, wait. I just got rear-ended.”

“What?!”

As if things couldn’t get worse today. Jin undoes his seat belt and climbs out of the car. The perpetrator of the accident also gets out and he looks at you who’s completely wide-eyed.

“I’m so sorry!” you screech in horror. “I was just singing to this new album and looking around, I’ve never driven on this street before and I wasn’t paying attention, I’m so so sorry.”

You come to look at the damage at his bumper and a gasp tears from your throat. It’s a Maserati.

You don’t know much about cars, but even you’re aware this is a luxury vehicle imported from somewhere in Europe. Germany. France. Italy. One of those fancy countries where you haven’t even dreamed of traveling to. You don’t know much but one thing’s certain — you’re so fucked.

As you’re losing your mind, Seokjin taps his foot and checks his watch.

His eyes bulge when he realizes the hour’s almost up. “Do you have your insurance information?” he blurts, interrupting your internal meltdown.

“I-Insurance?” You deflate all at once. “I don’t.”

Seokjin sighs and glances over his shoulder. The Hwagae Hotel where the meeting was taking place was so close that he could practically see the entrance door from here.

There’s no more time to waste.

“I’m heading to the Hwagae Hotel.” He points down the street. “Do you want to talk about it there?”

You nod dejectedly and get back into your car to follow him into the hotel’s parking lot before you slow down traffic any more than you already have. Getting more angry drivers on your back is the last thing you need at the moment. At the same time, your mind scrambles for solutions. But it comes up empty.

God fucking dammit. You shouldn’t have been cheap. You should’ve just gone hungry for an entire week to get the car insurance. Why on earth did you think you didn’t need it?!

By the time you get out of your car again, you’re on the verge of tears.

You eye the expensive, sleek black car. Then your eyes stray to the stranger.

“I...I don’t have much money I can give you.”

Jin glances at his watch and then at you. He finally gets a good look at you. Or rather, he notices your simple skirt and blouse ensemble. In an instant, a light bulb flickers in his brain.

“You don’t need to pay if you follow me.” His head nudges towards the hotel and your eyes become rounded at the suggestion. You gawk at the door of the hotel and back at him within seconds, entirely horrified. Seokjin quickly clarifies, “I have a business brunch inside and I need a partner to go with. You don’t need to do anything. You can just stay silent and eat.”

Seokjin watches as you look at the car and then his crisp suit before you’re slowly coming to nod. “A-Alright.”

He turns on his heel and struts into the hotel lobby without waiting for you.

Seokjin wouldn’t necessarily call himself a spontaneous person, but when push comes to shove and it’s the last moment, he’s good at coming up with fixes. He prides himself on it, having been the person who jumped in at the last second to repair things on more than one occasion.

Podium mic not working at the charity banquet? He ran to the nearby mall and bought a portable karaoke microphone at a booth. The client has a pollen allergy he didn’t know about? He threw the flowers on the table out the window when she turned around. The handouts for the shareholder meeting were forgotten? He announced they were going paperless.

The point is: Seokjin will do whatever it takes. Even if his methods are unconventional.

He enters the lavish hotel restaurant, already finding the couple by the windows. He brushes past the hostess with a sparkling smile and peeks over his shoulder to make sure you’re still following after him.

“Seokjin!”

They’re an old couple in professional garb. The man is in a gray suit while the woman is in a modest navy dress. He doesn’t miss the Louis Vuitton purse next to her wine glass filled with water.

“It’s good to see you, Mr. Jeon. You as well, Mrs. Jeon.”

He shakes their hands and at once, Mrs. Jeon looks at you with her brows raised. “And who is this?”

“This is my partner….”

“Y/N,” you fill in for him, realizing he doesn’t even know your name. You’ve been through your fair share of meetings, so you smile and shake their hands with ease.

As strange as the situation is, you’re just relieved he wasn’t lying about it. You had the impression he wasn’t, but you were ready to hightail it out of here if he brought you into a hotel room.

“I didn’t know you had a partner, Seokjin,” the older man notes, impressed and curious.

Jin laughs. “Well, I’m glad you know now.”

Everyone takes their seats and the waiter comes by to fill your glasses of water and ask if anyone wants a particular drink. Once he’s sauntered away, the woman across from you makes conversation. “What do you do, Y/N?”

So much for having to do nothing. “I’m an intern at JML.”

“Oh, I have a friend’s niece who works there. Are you looking to become an accountant then?” her husband asks.

“Hopefully.” You smile before lifting the glass of water to your lips.

“That’s so nice,” Mrs. Jeon sighs. “You young-ins should work and develop a career while you still have the chance. Heaven knows things become so much more difficult once you start a family.”

Family? It’s a foreign concept to hear considering it’s not a subject even in the realm of your concern. You manage to stiffly nod.

“How did you two meet?”

You almost spit out your water.

Seokjin reaches over to pat your back as you wheeze. “Are you alright...darling?”

You wipe your mouth with the tablecloth napkin. What was this guy’s name again? Seokho? No that wasn’t it. It had a J in it. Seok...ju? No….

“Seokjin, I’m fine.”

Mrs. Jeon watches the interaction through rose-coloured glasses and smiles knowingly. “My apologies if it’s an intrusive question. I just adore a good love story.”

“Actually, it’s a funny story.” Jin smiles as a sweat bead practically rolls down his face. “Y/N here rear-ended my car when I was on my way to a meeting and that’s how we got to know each other.”

He looks at you and starts to laugh. After a delayed moment, you join in and inwardly cringe at how awkward it sounds. Yet the old couple doesn’t notice.

“How long have you been together?” Mr. Jeon asks with a warm smile, hands threaded on the table.

You look at him and his laughter dies down. “T-Thr-Two years! Yes, two years.”

“Well isn’t that sweet,” she swoons to her husband who nods in approval. “Are you going to get married soon? It’s not good to let a young woman wait too long.”

If you didn’t choke before, you might again. This time from your own saliva.

Mr. Jeon hums. “Yes, I personally don’t think one should wait long if they know it’s the right person.”

“That’s right.”

“Well that’s good news,” Seokjin interjects before you get the chance and he suddenly blurts, “Because we’re already married.”

Your head whirls to him, neck nearly breaking from the whiplash. You gawk at his profile.

Mrs. Jeon gasps in amazement. Mr. Jeon appears intrigued.

As the proclamation leaves his lips, it’s already too late to take it back. Seokjin isn’t spontaneous. He’s just good at quick fixes, too good that they become permanent fixes.

The point is: Seokjin’s an absolute idiot sometimes.

“Really?! Where’s the ring?”

“We’re getting it fixed at the moment. Y/N lost a bit of weight so it kept slipping off her fingers.”

He turns to you and you stare at him incredulously before deadpanning, “Right.”

“When did you get married?” Mr. Jeon asks.

“Recently,” Seokjin lies without batting a single lash. It’s not hard to pitch an idea or an outlandish one at that when he used to work as a door-to-door salesman during his teenage years and then a car salesman during his college years.

Seokjin’s entire career has been built on convincing others.

“So you’re newlyweds then.”

You give him a look. Jin smiles.

“Yes. We are.”

By the end of brunch, you know more about Kim Seokjin than you ever intended to know — case in point, you’re now aware of his last name. You know he’s three years older than you are, that he’s been working at his company for four, and he’s pretty high up on the corporate ladder but is still continuing to climb it. You even know about the possible contract between his company and the Jeon’s, and the open plot of land on Hwarang avenue that would apparently be the perfect location to expand the Golden Resort and turn it into a franchise.

You’re sure he knows way more about you than he’d like to know too.

“I’ll be honest, I was unsure if I wanted to sign with your company, Seokjin. But you’ve shown me you have a lot of integrity and a strong work ethic. I think our values are compatible as well.” Mr. Jeon shakes hands with Seokjin. “You’ll get a call from my office soon and I think you’ll like what you’ll hear.”

“Thank you so much, sir.”

“You’re a lovely couple,” Mrs. Jeon adds on as she looks at the pair of you standing next to one another. “I look forward to seeing you again soon, Y/N.”

“Y-Yes…”

The two of them bid their final farewells and Mr. Jeon lifts his hand to the valet across the lot. Mrs. Jeon hangs off his arm as their Cadillac is driven up to the door. They get in soon after.

It’s silent between you and Seokjin.

“So…..we’re married, huh?”

“I’m sorry.” He turns to you with a heavy sigh. “It was a really important client I have to sign with and they really value family and relationships.”

You nod. It doesn’t really matter now — what’s important is that it’s over. But one thing isn’t. “About your car….”

The both of you walk across the lot to his vehicle and he finally has the time to get a good look at the damage.

There’s a clear dent in his back bumper and a scratch. But luckily, there doesn’t seem to be much anywhere else.

“It’s a ninety nine thousand dollar car.”

You wheeze. “Pardon?”

“I don’t know how much the damage will be, but it might cost a bit.”

Oh my god.

Seokjin suddenly turns to you with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I can make you a deal you can’t refuse. I know you don’t have the means to pay for the damage, so you won’t have to. But in exchange, accompany me to business brunches or galas. It won’t be often and it’ll be similar to what you just experienced. You won’t have to say much and you can even eat for free.”

There’s a drawn out pause. You blink at him owlishly.

“I accidentally told him you were my wife and if you weren’t there from now on, it’ll look suspicious,” Seokjin explains. “It’ll be just for a little while. Maybe half a year? I’ll figure something out after that. How does it sound?”

You know you don’t have much of a choice.

You don’t have insurance and you don’t have money to pay out of pocket. If anything, the offer is generous and Seokjin seems trustworthy — especially considering you’ve gotten to know him in the past hour.

For all those reasons, maybe that’s why you nod. “I can do that.”

He smiles and you brace yourself for a whirlwind.

#bts fanfic #jin fanfic #jin reader insert #jin fluff #bts fluff #bts scenario #jin scenario #bts drabble #jin drabble #Anonymous #Jimlings

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rosaliepostsstuff · 4 years ago

Text

Good for him | G.W.

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

requested, based on the song Already Gone by Kelly Clarkson

summary: Maintaining a relationship while going through grieving process becomes too exhausting for Y/N and George so they part ways. But what happens once they both take control of their lives back and meet again?

word count: 2.5k warnings: grief, mentions of death, insecurity, fluffy ending (hope i didn’t miss any warnings, in any case please let me know)

tags: @izzyyy-1 ; @hufflepuff5972 ; @pandaxnienke

You walked around the flat above the shop, and you thought about the day you helped George and Fred move in. Memories came flooding back to you, you had just graduated Hogwarts, you were all so full of life, looking bright into the future even as the war was tightening its grasp around you. But you couldn’t have expected it to take so much from you.

The door to the flat opened slowly with a creak and you saw a shell of a man walk in. You were standing in the middle of the small entry hall, clutching your bag filled with little things you had left at George’s over the years, things you would now take with you.

He came back after undoubtedly spending the whole afternoon at a pub.

You looked at him and you felt a lump in your throat as tears slowly clouded your vision. You looked at him and once again you wondered if what you were doing was right.

You loved George with all of your heart, loved him more than anything. He had changed your life in so many ways and left his mark on you. And you knew that nobody else could ever love you the same way he did. You were supposed to be each other’s forever, but grief had other plans for you.

After months, you were exhausted. You had tried and tried to help George up after he collapsed along with his brother but it got just too much. You had your own process to go through and you couldn’t do that while pouring all of yourself into a relationship that no longer physically existed. There is a boundary between trying your hardest for love to help someone get better and hitting a wall, trying to help someone who doesn’t want to be helped while losing yourself in the process. You hoped he would move on and find happiness with someone eventually. He was bound to find someone better, someone, to give him more than you could.

At first, he was angry. He felt betrayed. He resented you for leaving him when you were supposed to love him. Looking at him like that hurt you, it almost made you break and take it all back, but you couldn’t. Because love just wasn’t enough to keep you together.

So when his initial shock passed you parted your ways in mutual agreement.

As time went on you slowly got better and better. You focused on yourself, on your career and in time you felt something that resembled happiness. You felt almost at peace, but it was a start.

Almost a year has passed since your break up, and one late afternoon you got an owl and felt a pang in your heart upon reading the name.

You tried to avoid George in fear of losing all that progress that you’ve made in moving on. But you also felt that he didn’t deserve to just get ignored by you and you were curious about his intentions.

My Y/N,

I probably don’t have the right anymore to call you mine, but it feels wrong otherwise.

I missed you. I hope time has treated you well. I know it helped me heal. I know I’m not fully there yet, I still have a long way to go, but I’ve woken up enough to see how shit life is without you. I don’t expect you to just let me back into your life, but if you would, that would make me the happiest man in the world. I just wish to see you and talk to you.

Please don’t ignore this letter, I beg you. Even if you don’t want to see me ever again, please, don’t leave me hanging, I hate uncertainty. Please, before I let you go, tell me you’re alright.

Yours,

George

And so, with a shaky hand, you wrote back:

George,

You know well what we did was for the best. You should move on and find someone who will truly make you happy and give you all that you deserve. I can’t do that for you.

Y/N

You didn’t get another letter from him.

You tried to push George out of your mind again, always trying to find something to occupy yourself with. Until months later, an owl delivered a beautiful, formal-looking envelope to your windowsill. Hermione and Ron were getting married.

You’d been successfully avoiding all Weasley’s gatherings, even though Molly never failed to invite you. Christmas, Easter, all the birthdays. You knew she saw you as one of her own regardless if you were dating one of her children or not. But until now you didn’t want to take that risk.

However, a wedding was too important, and both Ron and Hermione proved great friends to you in the past. If they invited you, that meant they wanted you there. And part of moving on meant you couldn’t just avoid George forever.

You had apparated just outside the Burrow. You saw the wedding tent with some people already there, you scanned the crowd, subconsciously looking for him already. You fixed your dress and with your legs a bit shaky, you approached the entrance.

“Y/N! Hi- !” Ginny elongated, walking up to you with her arms spread wide and a huge smile on her face. “Hey, Gin,” you smiled dimly. “It’s so great to see you, it’s been so long..! I’m really glad you came,” she gave you a proper Weasley hug, one full of emotion, showing you how she really missed you. “I know it was probably not easy,” she added a bit quieter, giving you a knowing look. “But anyway, I’ll take that!” she gestured to the gift bag you were holding in your hand, “I’m on gift duty today, thank you-“

“Do I have a seat assigned?” you asked, looking at the rows of seats for guests. And that’s when you saw him, talking to someone by the wedding arch. His back turned to you, but you recognised him by his posture alone. He was wearing a dark navy three-piece suit. One could get really lost looking at this man.

“Yes, yes, Fleur will show you while I put this away. Fleur..!”

You avoided looking in his direction, afraid of catching eye contact. Waiting for the ceremony you thought to yourself you’ll have to meet him sooner or later, but you just didn’t want to be caught looking at him first. You have moved on. He has moved on.

You glided through the sea of guests with a glass of champagne in hand, some of them headed to the dance floor, some to their tables, just like you. You kept your eyes trained on where you were going, careful not to bump into someone but not looking anyone in the eye.

“Y/N,” called the voice that felt like home. You froze in spot, bracing yourself, then turned in the direction it came from.

“Hi,” he said with the tiniest smile and his eyes filled with uncertainty. He looked a bit better than the last time you saw him. His face seems to have aged a bit during this short time, his cheeks a bit hollow. But he didn’t look as tired, the dark circles under his eyes lightened up a bit. His face was clean-shaven and his hair cut. He looked very handsome.

“Hi, George,” you said the name out loud after so long.

His eyes moved down over your body and back up again, “You look beautiful,” he said sincerely. You shifted on your feet and tightened the grasp on your glass a bit, “Thank you, you look really smart.” He smiled a bit wider. There were a million things he wanted to say at that moment, but he didn’t know which one to lead with. Which one would prompt you to give him your attention and listen to the rest. “May-... may I have a dance..?” he asked quietly, barely audible in all the noise, music playing and people partying. You panicked slightly. You did not feel ready for that. “I… I was just going to sit down for a bit, talk to some other guests. Maybe later,” you blurted out the last part and regretted it almost instantly. There was a bit of a pause between you, George did his best to hide his slight disappointment. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said, with a fraction of the glint in the eye that you knew well. With that, he turned around and walked away, just his head visible above the crowd.

Your heart fluttered a bit. This felt like old George.

You did your best to shake that feeling off, then noticed Molly next to one of the tables. You owed her at least a conversation.

Not for a moment has she made you feel guilty about not seeing her all this time. She engulfed you in the biggest hug, showing you just how happy she was to see you. Your spirit lifted instantly, and she hasn’t mentioned your break up and asked about your life, what you did in the meantime. Yet inevitably, the conversation somehow shifted to the topic of Fred’s passing.

“We’ve gotten better, we’re trying as best as we can. That’s what Freddie would’ve wanted,” she said with a wide smile and her eyes a bit watery. “Even Georgie’s getting better,” she nodded, looking at him in the crowd. “Sorry, dear, I promised myself I wouldn’t mention that with you…” she got a bit flustered. “It’s- it’s okay Molly,” you smiled as best as you could. “In this case, I do have to say – it is a shame, dear. You know you’re a Weasley to me but I’d always hoped I’d have you as my daughter.” She rubbed her hand on your shoulder comfortingly, “you were good for him, you know? Even Fred always said that…” You stayed silent, focusing all your might into stopping tears forming in your eyes. “My, I better leave before I make even more of a mess. Do have a nice time tonight, dear,” she gave you one last, warm smile and walked off. Leaving your mind in chaos.

“George..?” you tapped him on the shoulder gently, and even the feeling of his warmth on the tips of your fingers felt tingly. He turned to you right away with a smile that had you weak in the knees, then reached his hand out for you to take and gestured to the dance floor with his eyes.

His touch brought you comfort. He held you just like he always had, as if you picked up right where you left off, right before everything went wrong. George’s touch made you forget about everything around you, and as he led you in dance, you lost yourself. If only he’d lead you outside and into the sunset, without a word, you’d let him.

“You know, I was hoping… If you’d see me today, see how I finally got a hold of myself, pulled myself together, everything would change,” George confessed, his voice strained with emotion. The music slowed down and you were just swaying with it. You looked up at him and he continued. “I mean, why did we end things, Y/N?” he asked desperately.

You looked back down, not able to meet his eyes anymore. He went on before you could answer.

“I was a mess. I was in a dark, dark place, Y/N... I didn’t have enough grip to support you as I should’ve, so instead, I dragged you down with me.” George lifted his head high, looking up at the illuminated ceiling, trying to keep his tears from falling. He didn’t want to fall apart now. “I’m sorry. I know I told you that when we... when you left. But my perspective’s changed, I can see better now and I want to say that again – I'm really, really sorry.” “George, please...” you plead, all your thoughts and doubts from the past coming back to you. “I- I feel so bad... that I couldn’t help you,” you confessed, “it hurt me so much, but I wasn’t enough.” You tried to stifle the sobs, tears streaming down your face now.

George pulled you closer, pulling you flush against him and wrapping his arms tight around you. You tried to find comfort in him, your hands fisting his crisp, white shirt.

“It was not your fault, okay Y/N/N? There was nothing more you could’ve done for me,” he said, resting his cheek on top of your head. “...but it’s behind us now. And not for one moment have I stopped loving you,” he confessed.” “But why...?” you cried, “George, I’ve given you the chance. I let you go so you could move on,” you grasped the shirt tighter, “so you could find someone better... You deserve so much better.” “There is no one better! Give me another chance and I promise, I will spend the rest of my life proving to you how perfect you are for me if that’s what it takes..!” He exclaimed, pulling away a bit to take your face into his hands and look you in the eyes. “Just let me, please.”

All words escaped you the moment you looked into his eyes, holding such sincerity. So you just nodded and smiled weakly, feeling a huge weight lift off your shoulders.

George slowly brought his face closer to yours, leaning in he searched your eyes for any signs of uncertainty until the very last moment when your lips touched. His lips were slightly chapped but so welcoming. When you kissed him back, letting go of his shirt to slide your hands along the soft material to his chest, he brought one of his hands to your waist and used the other to deepen the kiss. The song playing was slowly coming to an end, the singer’s soft voice accompanied by delicate piano melody seemed to set a rhythm to your lips. When it ended, he held your lips together still for a moment, then pulled away.

The breath you took then was the first proper breath in years for you, you breathed George in and felt intoxicated. Your eyes darted between his loving gaze and dazzling smile.

“I love you,” he chuckled, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. “I love you back,” you said breathily, wrapping your arms around his body and relaxing into him.

George kept his promise and did not falter in proving to you how perfect you are.

The summer sun was slowly setting, the light wind pleasantly warm. Your eyes were set on his face, eyes closed and a relaxed smile on his lips, as his head lay in your lap. One of your hands was gently stroking his soft hair, while the other he held in his, on his chest. The sunset left a pinkish-orange hue on everything, making it seem even more magical.

You could stay like this forever, you thought, but Molly stuck her head out the window, motioning for you to come inside for dinner. Right as you were about to nudge George, his stomach grumbled, making you chuckle.

“Ugh, when’s dinner gonna be ready…” he groaned sleepily, opening one of his eyes. “Just now, actually. Come on, love, get up.”

So the two of you got up, going inside, hand in hand. And you were each other’s forever.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #weasley twins

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jumblejen · 3 years ago

Text

Finding Warm

Prompt: Cold (winchester-reload’s Winter Art Challenge)

Link to AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35640832

Dean rolls over and pats the other side of the bed absently, suspended between asleep and awake. Cold. He furrows his brow in his not-sleep. He doesn’t like that it’s cold. Cold like that winter after his mom died, when all the restless relentless wandering started. Cold creeping in through single-paned loose-fitting glass in a crappy motel room window.

Dean doesn’t remember winters when his mom was still alive. Maybe a vague impression of marshmallows in hot cocoa, but beyond that it’s not something his brain has held onto. He wishes he could remember snuggling up in warm blankets while she read him a book, but all he has is the memories of winters after. There were no marshmallows, no snuggling, no warm safe blankets and a safe voice reading to you about how different woodland creatures survive the winter.

He remembers when Sammy was little. John strayed towards the south during the coldest months, at least having some slim thoughts that his kids might not do so well in a Minnesota winter without proper winter coats or boots or gloves. Maybe John just didn’t like the cold. Dean never asked him. They never went so far as the proper south, not often anyway. Kansas was much warmer than Ohio or Michigan, though sometimes they ended up in those places after the snow started to fly too.

Kansas may be warmer than Ohio, but it wasn’t Florida warm. Their jackets were enough most of the days if they wore enough layers underneath, and Dean always kept an eye out for extra sweatshirts in the lost and found at school. It was a good way to pick up a few extras, especially for Sammy. As long as they weren’t anything too distinctive, who’s to say they didn’t belong to the Winchesters? Dean made sure to put their initials in every article of clothing as soon as it was acquired to make it more likely they’d win an argument over ownership. And really, can anyone truly tell one navy sweatshirt from another? Well, yeah, Dean could, but that’s because John drilled it into him that noticing small differences could be the line between dead and alive in this life. Most kids never noticed that kind of stuff. Even Sammy was blissfully unaware for a long while until he got old enough to cotton on to why Dean cared even when John wasn’t there.

The cold in some of those motels over the years of their childhood, that soaked into Dean’s memory. Never enough blankets at most of those places, and if the heating went out, well Dean knew a lot of those places he couldn’t chance going to the staff on his own. A kid like him staying with his even younger brother was too tempting a target. He’d try to fix it, though in the beginning it was more just hitting things and hoping the radiator would spring back to life. Not like he could build a fire in a motel room for warmth. The idea of a fireplace may be tantalizing on a bitter day, but Dean could never strike a match without hearing the echo of his mother’s scream, feel the heat chasing him as he ran out into the night with Sammy in his arms.

Again Dean pats the bed, running his hand over the empty space next to him, his face scrunching even tighter in consternation edging him a little closer to wakefulness. Cold like the ghosts have decided to make an appearance. Cold like any second now something will jump out at him and fling someone across the room, fling away their weapons and salt circles.

He remembers those ghosts when he was seventeen but he doesn’t remember most of the ghosts he’s faced. Too many confrontations, too many graves. Too many times gripping a poker tight on the brink of going out of his skull in anticipation. Dean wondered in those moments whether the souls were ever glad to go, glad to be shuffled off into the after part of the afterlife or if they’d lost all sense of anything besides rage or revenge. In the midst of all of it he hoped they found peace after it was all done. Many of them may be hell-bound, but it didn’t mean all of them were. It hurt his head to wonder at whether posthumous acts counted against where your soul ended up in the end or if it was only what happened while you were among the living. Dean never asked anyone what they thought about it.

The other side of the bed was still empty. Dean blinks himself to more fully awake, squinting in the dark as if that would help the missing person in his bed suddenly materialize. His breath catches.

Nothing was cold like when Cas died.

Dean was numb when he carried Cas into the house and tore down the yellow curtains to make a shroud. Numb and cold all the way through as he went with Sam on his search for Jack. He had felt so empty when they watched the pyre burn. Even the spring breeze as Dean spread Cas’ ashes had felt like the depths of winter in that field. Dean had been distantly surprised to realize that he couldn’t see his breath when he walked back to the car.

And when the Empty came… Hearing those words from Cas’ lips, words Dean wished he could hold in his hand to keep him warm. Instead Cas was gone, pretty words evaporating as the cold took Dean again. It was so much worse than the tortures of hell. If this had been what they tormented him with, Dean would have broken in minutes. In seconds, even, his frozen body threatening to shatter with every desperate inhalation.

Dean pushes himself to sitting with an arm braced behind him. “Cas?” he calls softly. A chill runs down his spine when there is no answer. Trying to calm the frantic scrabbling in his mind, Dean reaches for his phone to check for a text and the time. No notifications. And it’s still solidly the middle of the night. Dean throws the blankets off and stands up quickly, shoving aside the complaints of his middle-aged body. He knows he should stretch but he can’t sit still for that right now. Quietly Dean pads out of the bedroom, bare feet silent in the carpet. The hallway is cold, night air raising goose bumps all over his bare chest until he collides with warmth.

“Cas.” Dean still hates the relief in his voice, the way it still sounds like weakness. He’s working on it and maybe in the morning he’d take the time to poke at his disdain for such a normal reaction. But for now he lets himself sink into Cas’ arms, holding him roughly.

“Dean? What are you doing out of bed?”

“You were gone. And it was cold…”

“It is cold,” rumbles Cas. “Can we do this in the bed instead?”

Sheepishly Dean lets go of Cas and turns back to the room. Hurriedly he scrambles back into the bed and under the covers. Cas follows more slowly. Dean lays his head on his pillow concentrating so he can be sure that the warmth from the other side of the bed is real and not just a wish. And then he’s covered by Cas draping over Dean’s chest like the best weighted blanket ever. Dean lets out a long breath that he won’t allow to become a sigh.

“Did you have a bad dream?”

“I’m not a child.”

“What was it about?”

Dean scowls and then immediately softens. “You were gone and everywhere I turned it was just…cold. I can’t go through that again.”

“I’m not going anywhere Dean. I’m okay. And so are you.”

“What were you doing up?”

“Urination is very inconvenient.”

Dean huffs out a laugh, clutching the former angel to his chest. “Sorry I freaked out.” The words are small but perfectly audible in the still and quiet room.

“It’s perfectly understandable.” Cas’ voice is rough. “I still have those nightmares too.”

Dean rubs little circles on Cas’ back, the reality of skin and muscle and warmth grounding him further. “Hey Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“Does what you do as a ghost affect whether you go to heaven or hell?”

“Dean, I love you, but it’s three in the morning.”

“No, I know. I just always wondered.”

“When did you wonder it?”

“While waiting for them to show up. And after Bobby, our world Bobby, not Apocalypse World Bobby, well I just would have hated for him to end up in hell after all the good he’d done.”

“He did end up in hell.”

“Well, yeah, but only because Crowley put him there.”

“It’s still three in the morning, Dean.”

Despite the dark Dean smiles. Maybe Cas doesn’t know. Maybe he never thought to ask when he was an angel and didn’t want to admit that the god squad might have some afterlife knowledge loopholes. Or maybe it was three a.m. and Dean and Cas should both get some sleep.

“Cas?”

“I swear we can talk about ghosts in the morning.”

“I love you.”

“Oh. I love you too Dean. We should go to sleep though. Will you be alright?”

“Yeah Cas. I’m alright.” Dean closes his eyes feeling Cas breathe on top of him, the rhythm steadying rapidly as he drifts off. Dean’s mind wanders back to the dream, to that pervasive cold and snuggles in closer to Cas, kissing the top of his head. He falls asleep thinking nothing but warm.

#destiel #dean #cas #cold #sleeping #waking up in the middle of the night and you're not there

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lostysworld · 4 years ago

Text

My dar(k) ling – The Darkling × reader

Part 13

Masterlist

Pairing: The Darkling x reader

Warnings: none?

Summary: Another fete, another challenge for you and Aleksander. Another person between you and the man you love.

– What the hell is that?

You step on the training ground that you usually keep during archery trainings with young grisha. But seems this time your today's training started without you. Instead of empty space on your usual place a tall young woman is standing next to the line of targets with children not far from them.

Unfortunately, Baghra is here too.

– I found a replacement for you for this day, - the old woman waves her hand and a dark-haired woman sends a suspicious glance towards your side.

– Once it's for a day, and then for a life.

Baghra only rolls her eyes on your barely audible mumbling. When she brings you closer to that woman, you realize you've seen her before during trainings.

– It's Zoya, one of the best grisha in the Second Army.

You trace her slim figure in navy blue kefta with critical glance, waiting patiently for her any reaction. Not that you are against new people, but definitely not today, the day after your latest conversation with the general.

– Zoya Nazyalensky. A Squaller, - she extends her arm for a handshake, and you notice familiar pattern on her sleeve and smirk.

– Yes, I can see that.

Nevertheless, you extend yours in response, with a blank expression.

– She will train them, - Baghra nods towards kids. – While I am dealing with you, young lady.

– What else? - you grit your teeth in annoyance. You still have some lessons with Baghra, but usually they are about one and the same.

– I'm not done abusing you. Not yet.

– I am done.

– What? - the woman raises her brow and stops, turning to you.

– I don't need your lessons anymore. Though I'm grateful for the things you taught me, Baghra.

– Did my son brainwashed you with his teary puppy eyes-

– He has nothing to do with it. I just learned everything I wanted.

You already turn to leave her on the gardens' line, but the old witch doesn't intend to let you go.

– Your ancestors could do incredible things, and you only learned how to summon two elements and think, that you can outdo those grisha, who are here from the childhood.

You freeze on one spot, slowly exhaling and inhaling to calm yourself down. With one swift movement you are standing in front of her again.

– Air I can summon is still in your lungs, so be careful with your words, Baghra.

The corner of her lips twitches, as if she's waiting for a reaction like this. When the first wave of rage passes you relax a bit and you step back.

–And I still think that you are wasting your time here.

– What should I do? - you throw a glance to her, throwing arms to the sides in grim surprise. – To destroy the Fold with my hands?

– It's time for youto decide whose side you are on, girl. Are you with Aleksander, or you are helping to destroy him from the inside.

Your blood turns cold. No wonder, Aleksander became so impulsive with a mother like that.

– As far as I know, the boy still trusts you, Y/N.

– It is the perfect reason for me not to trust you.

The woman shakes her head, seeing the girl in front of her as a lost one for her to save. Worse that her son's influence is her own stubbornness and youth.

– What was Aleksander like? - you draw her attention. – Before the Fold.

– He laughed... A lot.

– Well, he seemed to do this with me either.

– That's what I am talking about, - she comes closer to you making you flinch. – You may bring some light to his life, but you won't change him.

Nonsense. You shake your head. Every new conversation with Baghra leads both of you to her attempts to turn you against the general. Every time. Always.

– I would never ask him to change-

– But it doesn't mean you won't want him to, Y/N. He is used to ruin people who are dear to him.

You lower your gaze, observing the ground. Loud noises from the training ground reach your hearing. Seems Zoya entertains young grisha more than you.

– Well, - you take a step back to show the woman, that your conversation is over. – Seems, my life has been already ruined before I met Aleksander.

The woman scans you with a mixture of judgment and motherly adoration in her eyes.

– There will be no happiness between you, if you are so alike on this point.

– Be that as it may, - with only one sentence Baghra gets to set your mood up and down.

As soon as she nods towards your side, you turn away, heading to the palace, passing by the training ground. Your head is full of useless information and whirlwind of emotions, so you at least can be used as a bad example of a trainer now.

When you get closer to your room, where Genya should meet you to try the fete dress on, you notice a familiar figure behind you. Even not turning your head, you know who it is.

– That's what the general meant, when was talking about constant pressure.

Ivan smirks smugly to himself.

– Oh, shut up, please! - you reach the door and halt to face the intrusive heartrender behind you.

– I am not a little girl, I can cope with it.

– And I am glad to hear it, - his face just perfectly shows how he enjoys himself at the moment.

– Shouldn't you look after your husband, hm?

– He is not my husband-

– Well, he should be.

With that you slam the door in front of Ivan's face, making him drop this mean smile from his face. If you two go on with communicating like this, you will become besties for sure.

You have never felt yourself so stupid and uncomfortable in your entire life like right at the moment, standing near the wall of the ballroom.

Genya abandoned you about a half an hour ago, and you are standing looking at the only one person here, that may draw your attention.

Aleksander spends his time discussing something with lieutenants on the opposite side of the room. Seems he is not interested in the fete or, what's most important, in you.

Not this gorgeous dress you are wearing, not your hairstyle, nothing can make the man turn his glance on your. After your last conversation none of you dared to speak with each other or look at.

Most of dates to the dance are already preoccupied with their partners, and you have only to throw sympathetic glances to Fedyor and Ivan, where one of them sometimes salutes you with a champagne glass by turns.

Not that you are just standing alone, some of familiar grisha join you from time to time having a small talk. And you may even easily escape from this party, but the chance that Genya will catch you somewhere in the corridors is pretty high and unpleasant.

But one small detail doesn't go unnoticed for you. Only couple of seconds ago the music becomes quieter, and you casts a quick glance towards the orchestra. There from their side, Aleksander is looking straight at you.

But it is not a problem at all. This detail doesn't seem to you; as soon as you follow others' glances with yours you notice a person coming to you.

The one you don't expect to see next to ever.

White coat with golden epaulettes, blond short hair and unusual charming smile instead of dull glassy glance.

Vasily Lantsov is walking straight to your side.

People around are not used to see the part of the royal family dancing with someone at parties like this one, so even musicians slow down a bit.

You are not nervous, but the whole scene is like not happening with you, so you just watch.

– Miss Y/L/N, may I have the pleasure of the dance?

His voice pitch is not high, not low, but something in the middle, although not unpleasant to hear.

You hesitate, but feeling of the general's burning glance on your figure makes you smirk slightly and nod, laying your hand in prince's one.

The music halts, but when the young man leads you to the center of the ballroom, it starts again with new force. The constant thoughts, that you are the only couple now and everybody is looking at both of you vanish as soon as Vasily's hand lays on your waistline, pressing you closer to him.

He doesn't talk, but the man is always looking at you, attentively, with the hidden interest, and you unconsciously compare this dance to your first one with general. It is stupid, because, honestly, it's nothing compared to the first fete.

You were kind of in love, charmed by a handsome stately man, who you trust with your life, and what's now?

Lost, without direction, still in love, but more love than in love, you are dancing with the prince, but not enjoying it. Though the dress is charming. With long waves it waltzes with your every movement, black and red.

Your lips touches a one sided smirk and you can only imagine what an impression this dance has on Aleksander. Surely, his subordinates will have a hard day tomorrow.

Fortunately for you, the music stops soon and the man, as a perfect gentleman, lets go of your palm and smiles in the end. You curtsy and step towards another wall, closer to the exit. One dance is pretty enough for tonight.

But when you intend to leave the room, someone's hand wraps around your wrist, slightly squeezing it, and you turn around immediately.

Lantsov doesn't go away, but stands still peering at you.

– Would you like to join me this evening, miss Y/L/N? - your eyes narrow in suspicion. Carefully you try to take your hand away from him.

– Don't think me to be rude, your Highness, but you are not known for spending time with ladies.

The young man smirks to you and you literally feel that burning gaze from another side of the room.

– I am not, but you will rescue me, if do that, - you clearly don't understand his intentions and wince.

– Otherwise, I will be sentenced to never-ending grumbling of my mother about searching for a bride.

– Oh...

– "Oh" indeed.

You barely hold yourself from chuckling, but the the prince steps closer to you, and suddenly you think that this scene can be used as a motivation. Of course, not for you.

– What do I get out of it? - you take his hand, that Vasily gladly offers to you.

– A way out of your difficult situation.

His words lit a sparkle inside of your mind, your thoughts find a common point, and you switch your interested gaze on him.

He waits for a second and casts a glance on that side where the general should be, but you decide not to test your luck, and keep staring right at the blond man in front of you.

Suddenly you remember that the ring Aleksander gave you with the letter is left in your room, on a night stand.

A nasty rotten feeling crawls inside you and all your previous thoughts vanish away.

When you turn to the direction where Kirigan stood, you see no one. There is definitely not a good sign, and you quickly look around to sneak out of the hall without Genya noticing you.

You excuse yourself and runs out of the ballroom. All this evening leaves your head full of conflicting thoughts and feelings, so you just need more fresh air.

Usually it's Aleksander who comes to your room either to make up or to take his time alone while your sleeping. But something is telling you that this day is not one of them. You need to talk to him first.

The door behind general's back slams loudly, he can even hear some of the pictures on the walls shaking. Everything in the war room is left like it was before he left for the fete. But the man isn't the same.

He ruffles his hair, exhaling tensely, marching from one corner to another in strange mix of helpless rage and jealousy.

He doesn't know, what is going on with him. All these day it was not so hard not to pay attention to this girl, and now, when Lantsov shared a dance with her, the Darkling is furious.

He unconsciously registers his own shadows crawling to his figure from the darkest sides of the room. If he goes on like this, he will surely have troubles with controlling his powers in future, leaving it to his anger.

The full moon is in the night skies and millions of glittering stars are shining radiating a slight pale light. The sudden thought of leaving the palace and having a night stroll dies with a barely audible knock.

Not many people afford themselves a luxury of disturbing the general so late at night, but anyway he heads to the door.

He opens the door rapidly and he blesses himself for wearing a usual cold mask, the general doesn't give his surprise away.

– Zoya? To what do I owe your esteemed company?

The girl's hesitating, but determined expression almost makes him smile, but he holds himself back.

– You left the fete so soon, I was afraid something happened.

Aleksander steps aside inviting her in. Honesty, he may even use this night visit to forget his predicament, but something holds him back. Something is telling him, it is not his way out.

Unconsciously his hand slips into the pocket of his kefta, fingers find the ring of black metal and green stones. He knows the similar one is somewhere here, in Y/N's room.

But when the squaller walks in further into the room, straight to the table, both of them hear one more knock. Loud, clear one. Aleksander will never mistake him for any other.

– Come in!

He doesn't busy himself opening the door, and when it's opened by the woman he is afraid to see, Kirigan finds himself enjoying the moment.

– Am I interrupting? - the witch's cold voice rings in the tense silence of the place, as she cocks her head to the side. Zoya straightens her shoulders.

– I was just keeping company with the general Kirigan, - the man follows Y/N arching a brow without any other visible signs of displeasure. – People tell it helps when you are alone. Isn't it convenient? You should know about it.

Venom in Zoya's voice is clear, but it's not enough for freaking the young woman out.

– Yes, I'm forgetting all my troubles the moment someone breaks into my chambers in the middle of the night.

Kirigan presses his lips in thin line, trying not to smile or smirk. Despite this difficult situation and visible intentions of Zoya towards him, he can't not to admire his forest witch. The little girl turns into his queen. It's just her character, that doesn't let her admit it.

– Zoya is already leaving, - Aleksander pushes himself from the wall, attentively looking at the squaller.

The dark-haired woman passes by you, not even sharing a last glance, and when the door behind her closes, you feel like finally relaxing.

– Don't like the company of the royal family?

The general locks the door and comes back to you, eyeing your figure with a silky arrogant gaze.

You, in turn, don't leave his eyes too, but with completely different expression. The man, who adored you so much, when we first met and developed your feelings towards each other, who worried about your opinion about him, now only pushes you away as hard as possible and even harder.

You indeed are not recognizing the same man you loved. But maybe you should learn to love him again.

– What was that? - your quiet voice seems to shake him to the ground. This strange calm power on the bottom on your eyes frightens him.

– What was what?

– What made you what you are? - you come closer to the man knowing that he won't go away. There are no more places where he can hide from you. – Tell me, Aleksander, what have burnt the heart out of you?

His glance is a mix of shame and disgust. He can't just not look at you and solve his problems with that. With the woman who sees through him.

– You don't want to know, Y/N.

– Well, I'm here..., - you throws your arms to the side.

Kirigan turns away and comes up to the table with maps leaning on his hands. His glance is slipping to the documents and plans, but he feels you're coming with his back.

You can't wait anymore, come closer to your lover. Lean with your hip on the table to face Aleksander, desperately staring into sharp lines of his features, trying to find that very young man he was once, so long time ago, beyond all the darkness that surrounds him.

– What do you want to hear? I was killing people in their backs all these years. I have terrified them, terrorized using my shadows, I was Ravkan punisher. Fouler than death itself.

– I understand, - you say quietly, wondering if there is still soul inside of this man. Burnt down black desert. That is all he has instead of it.

– Do you regret?

You flinch, when low voice rings in complete silence after a pause. Instead of answering you just shake your head.

– Not a minute of it...well, - Kirigan's gaze switches to yours, when you highlights last words.

– Aside from the moments when you tried to send me away.

One-sided light grin touches his face.

– Don't tell me later, that I didn't warn you.

– Even if I ever regret about my decisions, I will never blame you, Aleksander.

Something in him clicks and he straightens turning his head to you. Need in the glance only softens you more.

– Call me that again, - everything inside you clenches, as you hear his broken voice.

– Aleksander-

– No, not like that.

On a short moment you don't understand his words, but then you are finally lighted up with an idea. His hand that lays not far from you appears under your gentle touch.

– Sasha.

The walls he was building for so long are crushing down at this very moment. You make a quick move to embrace him tenderly and tightly. The man immediately hides his head in the crook of your neck.

– Has the darkness in me won over the light, Y/N? - you feel these words as he touches your skin with his lips while speaking.

– I don't know, darling. I don't know.

– Maybe they are right, - he raises his head, and you see these two burning pools of pure madness in his eyes. – Maybe the beast should stay with his own kind-

– Shut up!

Kirigan blinks and fever in his glance vanishes. He definitely doesn't expect this outburst from you.

Your hands laying on his shoulders and chest before, now are cupping his face, making the man look you in the eyes.

– Stop talking nonsense, - his eyes are searching for something on your face, something that gives up your true feelings. – I love you, Aleksander. And you are not even close to a monster. Don't you dare taking about it again.

You bring his head a bit down so your foreheads touch. Only a moment before you notice tears gathering in his eyes.

– I thought I had lost you, Y/N. My dearest love.

You move closer to finally connect your lips, savouring the perfect moment of peace. Your name sounds like a lament from his lips.

– How can you still stand me after knowing who I am?

Kirigan steals one last kiss from you touching the tip of your nose with his. This tension he felt before slowly leaves him.

– I choose to love you for the things you have control over. Yes, I may not approve your methods, but I know that you want the best for your people. That's enough for me.

– If I knew that you become the only thing I needed, I would not come into that forest.

You chuckle and this turns into light laughter, that Aleksander catches too.

– I'm taking it as a compliment, dear.

When you two stop, you realize that it is pretty late already. You won't forget yourself tomorrow's morning for the lack of sleep.

– May I stay with you? - you are searching for the answer on his face.

– Come.

Aleksander leads you to his bedroom where you stayed a couple of times, laying his broad palm on your back.

He gets rid of his own closer and changes it, handing a new clean shirt for you to change as well.

Honestly you have a small collection of his shirts in your wardrobe now, and the whole palace will probably know about it, if you ever done wrong with Genya.

When you take you places on the bed you notice, that the man is still restless.

– Just try to fall asleep, - his hand twitches under your soft touch. – Don't think about anything else, okay?

He is silent, and you go on.

– I see how you talk to your people, Aleksander, I know that you are trying for them. Grisha are dedicated to you, because they know you care about them, - your fingers start brushing circles on the back of his hand. – Though, as I said, your methods are questionable for me.

– I want grisha not to be afraid anymore. Anyone.

– I know. But I can't advise you anything. I'm sorry.

He shakes his head, covering your hand with his.

– It's okay. I'm grateful, that you are here at all, and...

Emotions overwhelm him, and the general falls silent. Suddenly you move closer and hug him tightly, placing a chaste kiss on his brow.

– Shh, sleep. We will think about this in the morning

@aleksanderwh0r3 @all-art-is-quite-useless @carlywhomever @cynthianokamaria

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone x you #grisha trilogy #the darkling #the darkling fanfic #the darkling fanfiction #the darkling x reader #the darkling imagine #the darkling x you

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ladyeliot · 4 years ago

Photo

Before we go (Part two)

Part 1 / Part 3 / Part 4

Pairing: Chris Evans x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your company has sent you to Boston to close a deal on the same day you have the most important date of your life at night in New York. Things get complicated, you can’t return to New York and you have to spend the night in Boston with a complete stranger.

Warning: Fluff.

Word count: 3105

Notes: English is not my native language, sorry for the mistakes.

On many occasions you have asked yourself if it makes sense to live life without love, to go on this journey without ever having fallen deeply in love. There was a time when you thought that without it, life would hardly make sense, but without knowing when and why it stopped being important to you.

You would never have believed the words that would have told you that you would be at eleven o'clock that Sunday night walking the streets of the city of Boston. An idyllic scene for a romantic movie, wandering the streets aimlessly with a stranger would be the perfect plot for any novel ending with a kiss, but it was obvious that it wasn't going to happen.

You were walking beside that young man, called Chris, but even though your body was present, your head was still scheming for solutions. It was impossible to get your belongings until the next morning, when Hackney's lost property division opened at 8:00 a.m., but that didn't matter because you expected to be in New York by that time, so that option was out of the question. The only option was that there was a friendly taxi driver who was willing to drive you to New York for free until you reached your destination. Thinking about it, the drive to New York was about 4 hours, Michael's plane left at 7:00 a.m. from JFK airport, so that gave you a minimum of 3 hours to find the taxi driver.

"We can make it," encouraged the perfect stranger next to you. "We have until 2:00 a.m. to find someone willing to drive you to New York."

"Did you just speak in the plural?" you asked curiously. "You definitely don't have anything better to do tonight."

"Not quite," Chris smiled opening the door to the coffee shop, you had arrived at your destination. "Good evening Perry."

"But what do my eyes see?" he exclaimed stepping out from the bar and offering Chris an energetic hug, "What are you doing here man?"

"You know, I've missed your pizzas mate," he said, pulling away from him.

"I'm glad to hear that," the waiter glanced at you and back at Chris. "The usual table?"

"You know me," he smiled making a small motion with his head for you to pass in front of him.

The atmosphere was cosy, with an industrial feel to it, but you could breathe in the warmth accompanied with a hint of melted cheese, which caused your stomach to work up an appetite. Some of the surrounding tables, who had already finished their dinner, turned their attention to your companion just as you passed, but you didn't ask any questions about it. Your table was somewhat out of sight of the others, tucked away in a small corner surrounded by curious black and white photographs that seemed to tell the story of the city you were in.

"Here you are," the waiter concluded, offering you the letter, but Chris handed it back to him as he received it.

"You know what I'll have," he said, shedding his navy blue jacket.

"All right, a Neapolitan pizza," commented the waiter, making a note on a small tablet in his hands.

You quickly looked at the menu, a bit stunned by the amount of variety of pizzas and burgers that the place had, so you definitely opted to trust the order that your companion had asked for and agreed to have the same as him.

"You guys will have it in a minute," he remarked with a smile. "Enjoy your evening."

"Thanks mate." Chris said before he left, then took a breath, focused his gaze on you and intertwined his fingers. "Alright, are you going to tell me why you need to get to New York tonight?"

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, the last thing you wanted to do was tell your sad story to a stranger, no matter how much he was doing his part to help you that night. You opted to shrug your shoulders and perhaps offer a brief description of the situation, without going into too much detail.

"There's someone who needs me to come tonight," you explained, playing with your fingernails, without looking at him, "and that person is leaving first thing tomorrow morning."

"I understand," he said, resting his barrette in his palm. "Then you must get to New York before he leaves."

"He?" you repeated somewhat confused. "I never said at any time that it was a man."

"Oh, I'm sorry, or her," he quickly rectified. "What I do know is that you are probably referring to the person responsible for that mark on your left ring finger."

You quickly averted your gaze to your ring finger, a white mark indicating that you had worn a ring on that finger could be glimpsed. Yes, it was true, you had worn it, an engagement ring, from an engagement that was never formalised. You frowned, you were going to tell him that he had no idea, but at that moment the waiter came back to bring you drinks.

"Water and beer," he said, placing it on the table. "Ah, man, I'm sorry to ask you this, but could you sign a comic book for my niece afterwards? She's in love with you, you know."

Those words caught your attention somewhat, sign a comic book? Was he an illustrator, or maybe a writer? Curiosity again invaded your body, apparently you were not the only person who was hiding information in this strange relationship that had just emerged a couple of hours ago.

"That's for sure my friend!" he exclaimed before you were left alone again.

"What about that?" you asked pointing to the waiter who had just left. "Are you in the comic book business?"

"Something like that," he said playing with the beer bottle, but without answering your question. "And what do you do? What are you doing in Boston?"

"Trying to escape," you said, refilling the glass of water. "I asked first."

"Fair enough," he took a small swig of beer. "Let's just say a lot of my time is acting."

"Actor?" You arched an entirely curious eyebrow. "Theatre?"

"Cinema," he stressed somewhat hesitantly, as if he didn't want to say it out loud.

"And comics?" you pointed to the right again, remembering the conversation with the waiter.

"It's because of one of the characters I play," he explained, playing it down a bit. "Marvel?" he asked hoping your brain would find a similarity. "Captain America?"

"Sorry, I know the character, yes," you said with a chuckle, as you couldn't find connections between the guy in front of you and what he was explaining, "but to be completely honest with you I don't watch too much TV, or go to the movies, or am much of a comic book fan."

"I have to admit that it's a relief in part," he confessed, picking up the beer bottle again. "Now I know this isn't all a sham to take me out to dinner."

"Excuse me?" you exclaimed with a laugh.

"I'm kidding," he laughed along with you, but at that moment the waiter brought your dinner.

You had to assume that the pizza looked exquisite, and after weeks of eating convenience food, it was a delicacy in front of your eyes.

"So you're in Boston for work?" you asked curiously, breaking your pizza into slices.

"Not exactly," he said hesitantly. "I was born in Boston, I usually come here for seasons, well not here exactly, in Sudbury, it's about forty minutes out of town. But on this occasion I came because tonight was a friend's engagement party."

"And what exactly are you doing here with me?" you asked squinting, very confused at the situation.

"It's complicated," he said taking a sip of beer. "Your turn."

"Okay," you nodded to yourself, taking a breath. "I work for a large multinational in New York, a hub for the finance sector, specifically I'm the head of external relations, so I'm constantly on the road. This morning I was in Boston to close a deal with two new shareholders."

"That sounds very..."

"Boring, I know," you finished his words, over time you had assumed that your life was completely linear, without any extra motivation.

"I was going to say important," he rectified, smiling at you. "Do you like your job?"

The question of the century. How many times could you have asked that question without giving yourself an honest answer.

"Sure," you said without thinking. "Well, I guess it won't be as exciting as yours, but... it's practical."

"Wait, did you just say 'practical'?"

That was the first time during the whole day that you were able to disconnect from your surroundings, forgetting the worries, the problems that were running inside you, it was just you having a pleasant conversation with a person who seemed to show interest in your opinions, in what you thought, a person who listened with interest to your every word. You could hardly remember the last time someone had managed to extract a hearty laugh from inside you, it was nice when he did. The minutes ticked by and you didn't notice that the clock read 00:12am, but when you did, the mood cooled again and you became aware of the situation.

You opted to resume your walk through the streets of Boston, your vigour waning as the time passed, you were no longer so confident that you could carry out your plan, and although Chris was offering you numerous possibilities none of them seemed feasible with the little time you had left.

"It's impossible," you said, raising your arms and stopping in the middle of the pavement. "It's over, it's 1am, I wouldn't make it even if I had a car at my disposal. The only thing that would save me from this situation would be a time machine."

Chris looked at you thoughtfully, with a small smile on his face, which made you wonder what was going through his mind at that very moment. You had discovered that inside him there seemed to be nothing but positivity and answers to all your questions, which unsettled you a little but you also knew it was what you needed most at the moment.

"What?" you asked.

"Come on!" he exclaimed grabbing your arm and guiding you to the side of the enclosure. "It's your lucky night, we have a time machine."

"What?" you asked again, running face first into a public phone.

"It is said that the pay phones in Boston allow you to travel through time," he explained, taking the handset and offering it to you. "It's as easy as dialling the date you want to travel to and you can talk to your past self, tell it everything you need it to do, or not do, thus changing your past." You looked at him amusedly confused, with a quizzical expression on your face.

"Go on, try it! It's fun. I do it every time I come to town."

"Well... I don't really need to call very far, it's enough to get in touch with my yesterday self," you explained taking the handset from his hand and slowly bringing it to your ear.

"Well, let's give it a try then," Chris dialed four digits accompanied by some sounds coming from his mouth that made you smile again. "Beep, bop, beep, bop, bop. Ready! What would you like to say to yourself?"

"Here I go..." you said, encouraging yourself. "Y/N? Hi, it's me... that's you, from the future." You couldn't help but smile and shake your head. "She doesn't believe me."

"Y/N?" he asked curiously finding out what your real name was. "What happened with Adriana?"

"Well, I can't go offering all my details to strangers," you defended yourself somewhat embarrassed at the situation.

"Understandable, in my case Chris is my real name," he laughed and shook his head, which turned your lips into a smile. "Well, it's normal that she doesn't believe you," he shrugged, returning to the conversation. "It happens the first few times. You have to tell her something that only the two of you can know."

"Hm... Y/N?" you thought to yourself. "Oh, remember Mum's blue dress that we loved so much? Remember the last time we tried it on at home, when we were walking down the stairs and it ripped, and we had to get rid of it? We never told anyone what happened, mum thought it got lost in the move to the new neighbourhood..."

Chris was watching you leaning on the payphone with a tender smile on his lips, but you were too abstracted from your surroundings to notice. He realised that he could easily manage to alleviate all the problems that enveloped you even if he hardly knew what exactly they were.

"She believes me," you said, looking at Chris and covering the receiver with your hand, as if there was someone waiting on the line.

"Great," he raised his arms. "Now just tell him whatever you need to tell her."

You took a breath, as if this really was a turning point in your life and you could change the course of things. Your companion paid attention to the words that were about to come out of you in the next few moments.

"Y/N?" you asked through the earpiece. "Listen, I know that tomorrow is going to be a very important day for you, you have a trip to Boston that can get you a big development in the company and you also have a date with Michael in the evening. I'm not going to tell you what you should or shouldn't do, only you can be the only person to make the best decision, but what I am going to ask you is that if you could only choose one of the two things which one would you go with?" you were silent for a moment posing the question to yourself. "See you soon.”

After saying those words carefully you put the phone back in its place. Chris slowly stroked his lips, looking at you thoughtfully, trying to understand a little of the situation you were in at the moment.

"Did she tell you what she was going to decide? Whether to go to Boston or..."

"No," you said, leaning against the pay phone yourself. "She wasn't sure." You looked at him silently. "What about you? Have you decided if you're going to the party?"

"No," he ducked his chin and shook his head.

"You at least have your chance in your hands," you explained, being for the first time during the night the person who was trying to help him. "I think you should go back and be on your way, before I continue to ruin your night.

"The truth is, I missed that opportunity a long time ago." Just as he had done a couple of minutes ago, you tried to get a glimpse of what those words meant, but neither of us had succeeded yet. "Besides, you're not ruining my night, on the contrary, I've never had a night like this before." He rested his chin on his hand. "So what do you want to do now?"

You let your gaze wander, you knew what you had to do before continuing with the situation, you had never given anything up until the last moment, but this was completely different. After asking your past self that question you had realised one of the most important things you had forgotten over time. It was true that you had been completely in love with Michael, that you thought he was the man of your life and that you wanted to spend the rest of your days by his side. On the other hand, since your childhood you had struggled to get a job like the one you had, to be able to use your full potential in a job that fulfilled you. Those two things were now on your mind, and you had realised that the third of them, perhaps the most important, you were not doing, which was to love yourself, to have time for yourself, to seize the moment, to laugh, to dream, to enjoy life, that was all you were missing.

"I think I know what I want to do right now," you said, nodding to yourself. "Would you have any spare cash? I promise I'll pay you all back."

"Oh, come on!" he said shaking his head and offering you a couple of coins in the palm of his hand.

You took a couple of dollars and inserted them into the pay phone in front of you, Chris provided you with your private space, stepping a couple of metres away from the spot. The phone began to ring, at the same time as your stomach informed you of the nervousness you were feeling, which increased when you heard Michael's voice through the receiver.

"Hi, it's me," you said almost in a whisper. "No, I'm still in Boston. [...] I know, the truth is I've had a setback, I didn't call you earlier because I thought I could work it out. [...] No, I have to wait for the first train to leave. [...] At 6 o'clock in the morning, so... [...] I know. [...] All right. [...] Yeah, I'll call you when I get home. [...] I hope you have a good flight."

Maybe it would be for the best, was fate playing in your favour? All you knew was that you planned to tell him how much you missed him, and that you were willing to fight for him again, but things weren't going the way you thought they would.

"Are you okay?" asked Chris approaching you again.

"Yeah," you nodded, looking into his eyes. "Maybe it's for the best."

The smooth line of your life that night was tapping into a wealth of emotions, evolving from despair, anger, joy and now sadness again, and it was your turn to share them with a perfect stranger.

"Come on," Chris offered you his arm and you wearily took it, walking aimlessly away through the streets of Boston.

To be continued...

Part 1 / Part 3 / Part 4

Taglist Open (DM)

MAIN MASTERLIST

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4haechie · 4 years ago

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spell it out

➵ request: can i request for a (light-ish) angst w/happy ending (or like fluff but w/ jealousy idk does that make sense?? for 6 + 1 + 17? thank you so much!!! -💙

➵ lee donghyuck x reader | fluff, comedy (?), hogwarts au, enemies to lovers au | 2,773 words | “you’re the single most annoying person i’ve ever met.”

➵ warnings: swearing (shouldn’t even be a warning anymore. i curse like a sailor)

➵ a/n: ur the sweetest little bean, 💙 anon! i hope u like this <3 also, this is written in donghyuck’s pov :D

want to request? check this post out!

“i don’t know what’s so great about him, anyway. like, okay, he’s taller than me. maybe even a little stronger and buffer? but he doesn’t know the first thing about y/n.”

renjun groans for the nth time during lunch. “donghyuck, my dude, let it go. it’s not like they’re dating.” he butters his croissant before adding, “and it’s not like you two are dating either,” with a not-so-subtle wiggle of his eyebrows.

donghyuck glares daggers at his best friend. “shut up, huang!” then, he goes back to sulking.

it’s been like this for a few weeks now, ever since you became all buddy-buddy with one of the students from the visiting school. donghyuck is not jealous, don’t get him wrong. he’s angry because he’s your one and only enemy. but here you are, competing in all sorts of lame contests with the new guy when that’s something you and donghyuck do–or did.

he watches from the other side of the slytherin table as you and the new guy compete to see who could fit the most number of marshmallows in their mouths. donghyuck rolls his eyes, “losers.”

renjun’s ears perk up, “if you’re so pissed, then maybe do something about it? do you know how annoying it is to watch you complain loudly?”

“do you know how annoying it is to watch someone steal your enemy away from you?”

“yeah, i was pretty mad at y/n for stealing you away from me when we were twelve.”

“exactly my point!”

renjun flicks his friend’s forehead and gets up to leave for the next lesson. “c’mon, loverboy, it’s potions time.”

donghyuck reads the instructions, once, twice, three times, before tossing the necessary ingredients into the cauldron. today, the wizards are required to make any potion of their choice, test to see if it works, as well as say why they chose it.

donghyuck chooses to make liquid luck, just because he’s made it before and is confident in brewing it. he stirs the mixture in the cauldron, making sure it’s perfect, before scooping some up and pouring it into a flask. he labels it with his name and house, and raises his hand.

“yes, mr lee?” the professor says.

“i’m done with my potion, sir,” he says a little smugly and glances at you, at the front of the class. you’re already looking at him when you mouth ‘fuck you’.

he smirks; bet you don’t do that with your new “friend”, do you?

“may i know what you have brewed over there, mr lee?”

“of course, sir. i made felix felicis,” donghyuck announces proudly.

“wonderful! now, test it out to see if it works,” the professor says.

“um, sir, i can’t exactly–” donghyuck protests.

“oh, that’s right...its effects won’t be seen immediately. but i know you’ve probably done a good job since you’re not new to felix felicis. tell me why you’ve chosen it, mr lee.” the professor tugs on the string of his reading glasses hanging around his neck.

“oh, yeah, of course. um, i just have the most confidence in making it. i’m not new to it like you said.” donghyuck says.

the professor sighs. “very well. who else is done?”

“i am!” you beam, with a hand raised.

donghyuck watches keenly as you finish stirring the liquid in your cauldron.

“what have you made, y/n?” the professor inquires.

“amortentia.”

the class goes pin-drop silent. no one ever brews the love potion unless they want to confess to their loved one or check to see who loves them. why did you decide to make amortentia? donghyuck prays to all the gods out there that you didn’t make it for the new guy. donghyuck has known you since you were both twelve–he knows pretty much every single thing about you (the new guy doesn’t, but that’s irrelevant), but he has no clue why you chose to brew amortentia. he definitely can’t ask you right now. he figures you’ll tell the professor some lame excuse, and he’ll have to find out by asking you while everyone’s distracted.

“i beg your pardon?”

“amortentia, sir. the strongest love potion in existence,” you say confidently. donghyuck now, for sure, knows you’re up to something.

“i’m not going to ask you to consume it, as that would simply be too risky. why have you made amortentia, young wizard?” the professor walks over to you and takes a look at your potion. he seems to be satisfied by its appearance and aroma.

“i’ve never made it before, so i wanted to give it a shot. i added all the necessary ingredients and stirred it the right amount of times. i think i did well, professor.” you insist.

the professor nods and goes over to examine the other students’ potions.

donghyuck gets up, brushes his hands over his robes and walks towards where you’re seated. he gives the new guy, who’s sitting right beside you, a look of pure loathing, but gives you a slight upturn of the lips. “hey, y/n.”

you give him one look and start writing your report. the class is noisy and the professor isn’t paying donghyuck any attention. “why did you make amortentia–really?” he bends down a little so that he’s eye level with you.

you glance at him again, “why do you care?”

donghyuck rolls his eyes, “y/n, i want to know.”

you exhale. “because i needed to know something.”

“know what?”

you push your chair out and stand up to face donghyuck. you’re nose-to-nose now, and donghyuck has a perfect view of all your features. not that he cares. he also catches the scent of your sweet-smelling lip balm–again, not that he cares.

“donghyuck, what do you smell?”

“what kind of a question is that?”

you clench your fists and huff out a breath. “you’re the single most annoying person i’ve ever met,” you say as if that clears up everything.

the professor, upon ensuring every wizard performed well in potions, dismisses all of them back to their respective common rooms. even though donghyuck leaves you alone after that, why can he still smell the sweet, annoying scent of your lip balm all the way here, in his room?

“i’m going crazy, man.”

renjun shoves his friend away from his desk. the moon shines brightly outside their dorm room’s window, the sky is a navy blue colour, and renjun is busy working on an assignment for defence against the dark arts. but of course, donghyuck isn’t going to let him without ranting about you first.

renjun takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, counts to ten, and spins his chair to face donghyuck, who’s sat on the edge of his own bed now. “i’m gonna go out on a limb here and say this is about y/n.” donghyuck nods sadly and renjun almost feels sorry for the guy. “is this about what happened in potions earlier? look, you know y/n’s obsessed with that lip balm. maybe it’s really strong-scented? you don’t have any proof that it’s because of the amortentia.”

donghyuck groans at the sound of the cursed potion. he didn’t even ingest it, but just standing next to it was enough to fill his stomach up for a lifetime.

“i guess you’re right. y/n always wears that lip balm, but it was super strong today,” donghyuck falls on his bed, closing his eyes as if in deep thought. he gets up suddenly, “wait! if y/n made amortentia to check something...” he trails off, lost in thought. donghyuck groans again and paces around the room.

“donghyuck, do you really hate y/n?” renjun asks.

donghyuck doesn’t have the courage to answer. he simply sighs and crawls into bed, tucking himself under the covers. he falls asleep watching the shimmering moon that night.

“today, you’ll be learning the disarming spell! it’s very commonly used in battle, so it’s a useful skill, nonetheless,” the defence against the dark arts professor says, walking on the small runway situated between the two rows of students. “the spell might seem simple, but you have to concentrate. you have to focus on your opponent’s weapon only. it’s very easy to get distracted while trying to disarm the other, so focus, and you shall be victorious.”

donghyuck glances across the runway and his eyes find yours in the crowd. you raise an eyebrow and point at him with your index finger, before retracting the same hand and jutting the thumb out, dragging it across your neck threateningly. donghyuck scoffs.

“now, watch closely, students. huang renjun, come up here. he’ll be my example.” the professor beams at renjun and pulls out her wand, renjun following suit. he stands his guard as the professor chants, “expelliarmus.” she points her wand at renjun’s and it goes flying out of his hand. renjun lets out an airy laugh, and upon receiving an okay sign from the professor, he collects his fallen wand and goes back to his place in the crowd.

“ten points to slytherin! oh, and you’re going to work in partners.” the professor says, smiling brightly as if this is a party and not a magical defence class. “you may challenge someone to a duel or–!”

“i challenge lee donghyuck to a duel!” you shout, your voice echoing in the defeaning silence that follows your sentence.

donghyuck winces, but manages to regather himself and nod at you. “bring it on, y/l/n.”

you chuckle and gesture at him to join you on the runway. the professor steps down as donghyuck climbs up. you stand a few feet in front of him, in position, wand raised. donghyuck doesn’t even have time to blink before you cast the spell. “expelliarmus!” you chant without hesitating, and his wand gets knocked out of his hands, clattering against the floor of the runway. you smirk and blow air at the tip of your wand.

donghyuck looks at you sheepishly before grabbing his wand and heading straight to renjun. his eyes drift to where you’re standing again, but this time they see the new guy closer to you than ever. he’s saying something, whispering something in your ear, and you’re laughing. laughing because of what he said. donghyuck grinds his teeth and glares at the floor.

“what the fuck was that?” his friend shoves him.

donghyuck groans, “i don’t know!”

later that day, donghyuck runs into you at the common room.

“oh, hey, y/n.” donghyuck glances around the room. no new guy in sight. that’s odd since you've been joined at the hip with him ever since he arrived. you guys must’ve been surgically separated, huh.

“he’s not here. he’s leaving tomorrow night, so he wanted to check the school out. you know, explore and stuff.” you say, making him widen his eyes in surprise.

“who?”

“don’t play dumb, lee. i know you don’t like the new guy.”

he feigns a look of hurt and clasps a hand over his mouth in a silent gasp, “why would i ever hate that guy?”

you roll your eyes and walk to lean against the back of the leather couch. “i don’t know? but i’ve seen the way you look at him. it’s okay, by the way. i don’t care. he’s nice, but he’s...not my type.”

he takes a few steps and stands in front of you. “then who’s your type?”

you look into his eyes as if trying to communicate through them. “donghyuck,” you pause, and for a second he thinks that’s your answer, but you continue speaking. “what did you smell? when i made amortentia?”

donghyuck gulps, “i–uh, peach lip balm.”

the corner of your mouth lifts to a smirk. “do you know anybody who wears peach lip balm?” you inch closer, decreasing the proximity between the two of you to mere centimetres. donghyuck’s eyes momentarily flicker to your lips before meeting your eyes again.

“i–!”

“what are you two doing up so late?” renjun enters the scene with an amused expression on his face. he looks at you two like one watches a tennis match, and his lips are drawn to a smug upturn. “what’s going on here?”

when you don’t answer, donghyuck clears his throat, “we were just talking about–uh, what we learnt today.”

renjun doesn’t look impressed. “right, and i was discussing strategies on how to become headmaster with mark at the library. no, seriously, it’s almost midnight and it’s just the two of you here.”

donghyuck glares at the boy, “fuck off, renjun!”

renjun throws his hands up defensively, “alright, alright. but hurry up, okay? i need your help with the potions assignment.” he’s about to leave when you call out his name.

“renjun, what were you doing here so late?”

he whips his head around, “well, i was at the library with mark. but we weren’t discussing strategies on how to become headmaster. we were just looking at some ancient spell books,” he says, and walks away to his dorm.

you cross your arms over your chest. “so, where were we?”

donghyuck presses his lips together for a second. “i asked you who your type was?”

“nice try, lee. but, seriously, do you know anyone who wears peach lip balm?”

donghyuck clenches his fists. “y/n, fucking hell. you! you wear that stupid peach lip balm. you made that stupid amortentia and i smelled your stupid peach lip balm. you probably smelled whatever cheap cologne the new guy wears, anyway. so why does it matter?” donghyuck heaves a sigh and is about to back away from you when you tug on his sweater.

“wait.”

donghyuck glances at you, “what?”

“i, um, didn’t smell anything that’s to do with the new guy.” you tug on your lower lip, unsure of how to put your thoughts into coherent words, but donghyuck focuses on the fact that you’re calling the new guy “new guy” instead of his name.

“then?”

you’re tongue-tied, but you manage to sputter out a few words. “i smelled lavender-scented fabric softeners and chocolate.” you look up at him through your eyelashes.

his heart stops beating. his brain melts into a puddle of goo. his organs stop working, his nerve endings go haywire. he’s frozen, a block of ice. he’s not even able to comprehend your words. you...smelled...him?

donghyuck’s favourite fabric softener is scented with lavender and his favourite food is anything chocolate. he makes sure to use the fabric softener for his uniforms, sweaters, pants–pretty much all his clothes. and he’s pretty much always munching on those blasted chocolate frogs whilst trying to collect all the best cards.

“y/n...” he says. that’s all; just your name.

you remove your hand from his sleeve and use it to push your hair back. “yeah,” you whisper. “it’s getting late. i better get to bed,” you step away from him.

“no, wait!”

you turn back around, eyebrow raised.

“what does this mean for us?”

you exhale, “it means whatever you want it to mean. you smelled my peach lip balm. i smelled your fabric softener. it’s a lot for me to take in. but that’s amortentia, i guess. tells you what you’re really feeling, without even saying anything.”

“y/n, i want it to mean this. i want it to mean that we can be together. we don’t have to be enemies any more. i...i like you, y/n. and seeing you with that guy, all happy and having fun–it made me,” donghyuck closes his eyes, “jealous. i’ll admit it, but if that’s who you wanna be with, then i can’t decide–!”

“you idiot! you absolute loser!” you exclaim, taking angry steps and landing in front of donghyuck. you push him back, causing his lower back to crash against the back of the sofa. “you’re so fucking annoying.”

“gee, uh, thanks...”

“shut up! god, do i have to spell it out for you? fine!”

donghyuck’s in a pure state of shock when he feels your soft lips on his, slowly kissing him, while also trying to knock some sense into him. he doesn’t waste any more time; he kisses you back just as slowly and carefully. he smiles when the familiar peach scent embraces him. you pull away first, but your angry demeanour seems to have washed away.

“thanks for spelling it out for me,” donghyuck circles his arms around your waist.

you reach to loop your hands around his neck and smile. “you’re most welcome, lee.”

(donghyuck’s hand never leaves yours the entire way to quidditch practice.

“what the fuck are you guys doing?” renjun gawks at your interlocked fingers.

“what does it look like we’re doing?” you ask, tip-toeing to press a kiss against donghyuck’s cheek.

“i could’ve gone my entire life without seeing that.”)

#haechan fluff #haechan drabbles #haechan x reader #haechan imagines #donghyuck fluff #donghyuck drabbles #donghyuck x reader #donghyuck imagines #nct donghyuck #nct haechan #lee haechan #lee donghyuck #mine #req

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rivereverglen · 3 years ago

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Ship In A Bottle - Fin Argus

Leviathan

I honestly don't know if I would have ever connected this song to Leviathan if it wasn't for @jaeheewillalwaysbemyfav's absolutely incredible TMAxOM crossover. Pairing Leviathan with the Lonely not only emotionally scarred me and made me want to hug my poor fishie friend until the end of time, but also really made the brainworms dance, which is honestly the best scenario that could have come out of reading such a well-written, heartbreaking passage. So thank you so very much, Winter, for the inspiration! ♥

Lyrics and explanation below the cut!

You can fit everything you know In a bottle for you to show Pick your brain apart and put it in (pick your brain apart) And build it again with needles and pins

Everything you have earned is a ship With blue waves crashing into it But nothing can touch your happy thoughts anymore With your glass ceiling, walls, and floor

Immediately we start out with something that honestly just feels textbook Leviathan. Taking the pieces of yourself and placing them in something that's fragile, but feels safe. Keeping himself 'safe' behind the glass of a screen, surrounded by the glass of his aquarium... He protects himself within a prison of his own creation, but in doing so also isolates himself, the glass between him and his brothers, him and the rest of the world, thick and seemingly impassable.

Sailing on a ship in a bottle Anchor all your thoughts to the bottom Pulling ropes and pulling your head back To see what is breaking the foremast

You set sail alone, there is no crew No one on the deck who can help you This is all your own battle to win This is your ship, and you are the captain

This is where the first little tug of recognition came in. You'd think this would be the moment that everything clicked, but that came a little bit later, actually, during the second pre-chorus! Regardless, this is Leviathan considering himself as alone, fighting a singular battle against those who look down upon him.

Oh, captain, let's make a deal Where we both say the things that we both really feel I feel scared and I'm starting to sink And I only sink deeper the deeper I think

Oh, captain, oh, captain, deal Oh, captain deal, oh, captain deal Oh woah

This is Levi addressing himself, his own battle within. Addressing the former version of himself, the version he thinks he'll never really be able to touch again. Admiral Leviathan, the head of Hell's Navy, a commanding presence, confident, strong, unquestionable. Now who has he become? A scared, weak little otaku, lost in the waters of his own mind and starting to drown in his own fears and insecurities.

There are red spots under your eyes From when you cry into the sky Ocean waters rising above your neck You feel the glass start to crack

Sailing on a ship in a bottle Water's leaking through holes in the bottom Flying flags of ships that have long since Sat at the floor of the sea, but in defense

You set sail alone, there is no crew No one on the deck who can help you This is all your own battle to win This is your ship and you are the captain

This was the moment the connection was made. If you haven't gone to read that drabble from Winter that I linked above, do so now, because this is where spoilers for that come in! Something about the visual of 'ships that have long since sat at the floor of the sea' put the vision into my head of Levi sailing off into a vast sea of fog, disappearing into waters that no one has ever returned from, eyes empty and aimless. Even within his 'untouchable' glass bottle, the water is rising and threatening to overtake him, and at this point his mind is so clouded by his own doubts that there's nothing he can do to stop it, and he's not sure if he even wants to.

Oh, captain, let's make a deal Where we both say the things that we both really feel I feel scared and I'm starting to sink And I only sink deeper the deeper I think

Oh, captain, make up your mind Before the salt burns your eyes and you run out of time 'cause you're popping the cork, you get lost in your brain And you lose touch with all the things that made you feel sane

Oh, captain, oh, captain, deal Oh, captain deal, oh, captain deal Oh woah

This segment also echoes what I've said in previous passages, as well it should, being the chorus, but the addition of 'you get lost in your brain and you lose touch with all the things that made you feel sane' really drives home that Lonely narrative. Regardless of whether you subscribe to the dots I've connected between the drabble and canon, Levi has completely lost the person he used to be either way. He's lost so much credibility due to his (relatively, as far as demon time goes) new obsessions, he's lost his strength and confidence and bravery due to his hikikomori lifestyle, to the point where it's difficult to call him even a shadow of his former self.

Oh, captain, let's make a deal Where we both say the things that we both really feel I feel scared and I'm starting to sink And I only sink deeper the deeper I think

Oh, captain, oh, captain, deal Oh, captain deal, oh, captain deal Oh woah

Thanks so much for reading! A huge thank you once again to Winter for the inspiration that brought this post into being. If you're not already following them, you should! Their headcanon posts were one of my biggest inspirations for wanting to create a blog of my own. ♥

Looking for more Leviathan-vibe songs? Find his playlist here!

Looking for more Devildom-vibe songs? Find that playlist here!

#leviathan #levi #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #swd leviathan #levi playlist #devildom playlist #Spotify #obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd

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ready-to-obeyme · 5 years ago

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[OM!] 7 Demon Brothers + Alcohol 🥂

tw: alcohol consumption and things related to it

Note: Ranked the brother’s alcohol tolerance from best to worst at handling alcohol and added some alcohol-related headcanons too like how they’d act at parties :0

I may have used some people I’ve seen at college parties as inspiration

Asmodeus

what can I say except: King 👑👑

the man goes out to parties often and you BET there’s alcohol

and yeah it’s fun to get buzzed, but ya boy gotta be sober enough to woo all the demons and dance the entire night!!

he’s built a lot of tolerance against all devildom drinks and even some human alcohol-- which is why he’s so shocked when he loses to you in a drinking contest in the storyline

he’s not used to losing especially when it comes to drinking and he takes pride in being the one on top every time

is there to have a Good Time with alcohol, and he’s usually an instigator when it comes to its consumption because he wants people to have a good time too!! (but only if they actually want to drink-- he ain’t forcing anyone!)

would know when to stop; knows his limits and the limits of others pretty well, so he’s actually really good at taking care of people when they’ve gone overboard

alas is the burden of the sober (or less drunk); is definitely the one who throws back a shot but is also the one offering you a glass of water or a trashbag to throw up in or hold up your hair

he is SO good at taking care of you after a night out

like I said: 👑👑

Beelzebub

bigger mass, bigger muscles = better alcohol tolerance

doesn’t drink that often to be honest, but he can hold his own

doesn’t like drinking because it tastes nasty and doesn’t really fill him up-- though the fruity drinks are ok

heavy weight drinker when he does drink tho--- voracious appetite is matched with his ability to down shots like it’s no biggie

also, considering he eats so much, that also helps him in terms of alcohol tolerance

like asmo, his ability to not get drunk easily makes him the Guardian Angel Demon of Hydration

“have some more water” he says as he bends down and rubs your shoulders as you yak into a black trashbag

could probably shotgun a beer--- smash the butt of the can against his forehead and chugging it all down

ESEPCIALLY if it’s for a bet for food-- the man is unstoppable

will be part of clean-up crew and also eat all the snacks

Mammon

that’s right, he can drink Lucifer under the table-- but barely

but he’s the type to go too hard too fast so no know actually knows/thinks he can, but the man is WILDIN’

what can I say about the Avatar of GREED??

shotgunning beers, slappin’ the wine bags, funneling alcohol-- HE’S GOT IT ALL

gets super hyped up when drunk and is definitely a big instigator when he gets some alcohol in him

kind of endearing to watch his inhibitions completely disappear as he reigns as the Big Brother who will definitely win against you in any alcohol related games like beer pong, rage cage, anything!!

the man is good at gambling, math, and probably loads more that we don’t know about yet, so I’m not surprised if he’s actually super good at any games related to dexterity and hand-eye coordination even when he’s drunk

usually doesn’t really control himself with alcohol, so despite his tolerance often ends up bent over with a trash bag in hand

but if you’re there with him and aren’t familiar with alcohol, he’ll definitely tone it down and look out for you BECAUSE HE’S A SWEETIE

Lucifer

more of a wine drinker, less of a SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS type of person

you think he’d be all suave and haha alcohol np--

but the error message of him hugging the router because he’s drunk tells you he’s not as tolerant as people think he is AT ALL

he’s just very good at hiding when he’s inebriated, but even he can’t hide the tell-tale sign of his cheeks reddening

against his brothers, he’s very good at controlling himself and taking in enough alcohol to amuse himself but not go out of control

unless he’s provoked and Diavolo (or you ;) ) are there

lowkey competitive, especially when he thinks he can win

for some reason always finds himself drunk as hell despite telling himself “ok, easy on the alc tonight” and starts to slur his words and be suuuuuuper relaxed (which is really endearing for you to see because he softens and is more affectionate and less shy about pda)

I hc that he’s actually a talkative drunk because he’s usually so composed and careful with his words that without the ihibitions, he’s freely speaking his feelings more (uwu)

when he lets himself go though it’s so easy for him to embarrass himself LMAO and he’s lucky that most of his brothers are black-out drunk or too busy taking care of other people

Belphegor

“MC, I’m so sleeeeeeepy”

“Belphie, you’re always sleepy”

super cuddly when he’s buzzed

after a few drinks, settles himself into a couch and just chills and fuzzily watches people chaotically chugging drinks

pretty happy with just doing this because he sort of enjoys just being in the background and seeing his brothers enjoy themselves

if he was honest before, oh he’s super honest now-- but in an extremely affectionate way:

“MC have I ever told you that your hands are super soft?”

“Ahaha Mammon you dance funnyyyy”

absolutely no filter on the love, the mad man

definitely conks out at like 11pm even if the party started like only two hours ago, blissfully unaware of any of the party aftermath and thus never really ends up helping during clean-up

pretty hard to wake up-- but then again, he’s always hard to wake up

you could probably pick up the couch he’s on and push it into a lake and he’d just wake up confused??? or stack things on top of him and he’d never wake up or move

reminds me of that one vine where someone pours water on this girl’s face and she just wakes up and says “hello????”

Satan

the man wishes he had the tolerance of beel or lucifer or mammon god he wishes

but he does not-- not even CLOSE

is usually the designated driver and pretends he’s real cool with alcohol, but whenever he does drink, he’s out of the game SO QUICK

maybe it’s because everyone expects him to be tolerant to alcohol because he sometimes sips wine when he reads, but he is not great at alcoholic party games so ends up being drunk really early in the party

also, shots??? not the same

definitely the type of person to have taken a few shots at a time and be like “hm nothing is happening” and then feel it all at once

he’s definitely learned from that first time he’s drank so NEVER AGAIN

so whenever he does drink, he knows his limits (and boy it is low)

get super happy and-- not giggly persay, but he definitely has an easier time laughing considering he’s lost his inhibitions

not much can bring him down from this mood when he’s in the perfect zone between buzzed and drunk-- tries to aim for this zone every time but doesn’t always hit the mark

has probably tried reading after drinking and just ended up sleeping with the book on his face

Leviathan

doesn’t drink that much, doesn’t handle alcohol that well

...but people think he does because he always wins at party games

the man has the best hand-eye coordination from gaming; he is the MASTER at beer pong and rage cage

hates shots because it takes him out so quick

low-key one shot wonder, and his face gets so red after a few drinks

handles himself with beer a lot better, but easy to get pulled into the chaos and gets challenged by MUCH more experienced and alcohol tolerant brothers (COUGH MAMMON)

usually tries to find excuses to not drink and prefers to sit and drink other beverages

he is the master of the NAVY, give him WATER

would be part of clean up crew reluctantly, but if you need to be taken care of he is there for you--- no doubts about that

shyly puts an arm around you if you’re sleepy and makes sure you’re comfortable if you do end up falling asleep

also would end up taking care of other people (and actually does it really well), but does grumble under his breath bc he’s a tsundere

definitely has been on the bad side of drunk so is actually very protective of you if people are pushy with their drinks (it’s kind of sweet)

if you’re sober, you definitely have a friend with you who can watch on and remember EVERYTHING that goes on in the party and share inside jokes and good memories

#obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me leviathan #obey me belphagor #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #shall we date? obey me!#tw drinking

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tinyboxxtink · 4 years ago

Text

“My Fairy Abogado” *Part 5*

What do you do when you’re at a block for a plot? Throw some smutty smut in there!

I’m kidding, I think I have an idea where to go. But I wanted to practice the smutty writing-- I know you all hate that. 😉

Warning: SMUT SMUT SMUT all SMUT

Tag List:

@wanniiieeee

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@word-scribbless

@dumauier

@objection-argumentative

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 6

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

“Chloe! You should be in bed,”

“I wanted some water-- what is Rafael doing here?”

“He was uh…” You racked your brain for an excuse.

“I was checking on you, princesa,” Rafael approached the stairs, a glass of water in his hand.

“Aww really?”

“Of course, I want to make sure you and your siblings are safe,” He gave her a small hug as he handed her the water.

“I knew Beto was wrong!” Chloe smiled happily as she trotted back off to bed. Rafael turned around to give you a look.

“...And what exactly was Beto wrong about?”

“He’s just trying to be protective,” You waved it off, approaching the stairs.

“Now, do you wanna talk about my brother or do you want to resume?”

“I mean, should we? If Chloe’s still up…”

“Chloe will pass out in 2 minutes, tops-- And my door has a lock, guapo,” You smirked.

“Well lead the way hermosa,” His grin was devilish, he bent down so that you could jump on his back. You did so, nibbling on his ear as he walked up the stairs.

“Ay, carino do you want me to drop you?” He whispered, trying to suppress a moan of pleasure.

“Please don’t,” You stopped, not wanting any more interruptions. “There,” You pointed to your bedroom...well, your parents bedroom that you were sleeping in while they were gone. He opened the door and tossed you on the bed, locking the door behind him.

“Wait is this your--?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Well, I mean it’s-- weird,”

You walked over to your parents dressed and placed their wedding photo face down.

“Better?”

“Much,” He pulled you back onto the bed, lifting your tank top over your head and revealing your breasts. They were never anything special, you were kind of embarrassed by how small they were compared to most of the chicas down here.

To your surprise, Rafa just sat there and stared at them. He then cupped each one in his long fingers, his touch was exquisite. You let out a small moan, which seemed to get him going even more. He gripped them tighter, drawing out a louder moan from you.

“Your turn,” You grabbed his belt and practically ripped it off, causing a husky growl from him.

“Alright honey, you better leave the undressing to me. I’d like to leave here with them still in one piece,” He shook his head as he pulled off his t-shirt and jeans, revealing navy blue silk boxers with a very VERY large erection sticking out of them.

You almost cried, it was so beautiful.

“...Can I…?” You whispered, still admiring it.

“By all means,” He grinned, stepping closer against the bed.

You gripped his shaft in your hands, your long nails softly scratching against it. You heard a small moan come from Rafa, egging you on. You loved seeing men squirm under you, it was a control thing. You tightened your grip as you continued to move up and down, you felt his knees jerking.

“You okay there, counselor?”

“...Yeah….” His eyes were closed, the pleasure in him taking over his entire mind.

“We better switch, I can’t have you passing out on my floor,” You giggled, pulling him onto the bed. “Now flip over, papi,” You cooed, and he obeyed.

Now he was fully under your control, helpless to your touch. You could feel yourself getting wet just looking at his aroused grin.

“Tell me what you want, papi,” You whispered, trailing your nails down his chest and torso in a tickling manner.

“Mmmmmmpphhhh” He couldn’t even speak, he just bit his lip and moaned as your fingers went lower and lower, ending with you cupping his balls in your hands. You massaged them lightly, his moans growing louder and longer every second. You studied every movement his face made as you continued; his eye twitches, the licking of his lips. You wanted more.

You ever so slowly lowered yourself down to his waist, softly licking the tip of his erection. A deep, guttural moan erupted from him.

“Babe, people are sleeping,” You giggled quietly, loving every second of this. You put your mouth softly onto where you had licked, slowly moving down his shaft while tickling his balls in your hand. His whole body began to grind under your mouth, he gripped your bed sheets tightly doing his best to stay quiet.

When his entire shaft was in your mouth and a bit down your throat, you clamped down hard, moving up and down quickly and hard. Rafa grabbed a pillow next to him and threw it over his face, loud moans and a bit of a scream came from under it. Suddenly, you removed your head and sat up a bit.

“You know, maybe we should wait,” You grinned evilly, the pillow flew from his face, revealing an almost in pain Rafael.

“Don’t you DARE,” He practically growled.

“Beg me,” You gave him a tongued smile.

“Por favor, hermosa...por favor,” He practically whined, his puppy dog eyes in full effect. You always loved it when guys talked in spanish during romantic endeavors, it always sounded way more sexy in your native tongue.

“Bueno, si insistes…” You winked, the look in his eyes told you he felt the same way about the language fetish.

You resumed your position, his full shaft in your mouth while tickling his balls. However, his moans were getting too much for you. You removed your mouth and used your free hand to continue the massage motion as you leaned over and popped open the bedside table. You grabbed a condom and ripped it open with your mouth. The sound caused Rafael’s eyes to open, his eyes droopy with arousal.

“This okay papi?” You placed it on his dick, rolling it down the side.

He responded by sitting up and pulling you onto him, practically popping you right on top of his dick. The sudden sensation of his huge erection inside you caused your own moaning and squirming to start. You tried wrapping your legs around him so you could ride him cowgirl style, but he took both of your hands and rolled you over, so that he was now straddling you.

“Ah ah ah, papi likes to be in control,” He almost snarled, drool dripping down his lips.

“Oh does he?” You smirked, half disappointed you gave up control so soon, half enticed to be dominated.

“Si,” He kept your hands pinned against the headboard as he began pumping in and out of you, fiercely nibbling your neck. Now it was your turn to grab a pillow, throwing it over your face to shriek into it.

“Si, gritar por mí hermosa,” He chuckled, now very amused at having you in sorts.

“Ay, papi…” You muttered under the pillow.

“Si….?” He pumped harder, whispering into your ear.

“I’m going to…” You bit your lip as he continued to scramble your insides. You swore his dick was all the way into your intestines by this point.

“Go for me, carino,” He purred. “Let it all go,”

That was all it took, you took his cue almost immediately. Your thighs began twitching, your legs shaking erratically as you felt your orgasm crashing over your entire body. You felt it in your entire body. Your fingertips tingle, your toes curled. You screamed so hard into the pillow you swore you might smother yourself under it.

“My turn,” You heard him chuckle, but you were miles away. You barely felt him pump a few more times and then shake against your limp body with a roar, finally releasing and collapsing on top of you. You both just laid there for a minute, both lost in your own ecstasy.

After a minute you blinked, slowly returning to consciousness. You felt Rafa’s hands stroking your hair and your sight focused into staring right into his sparkling green eyes.

“That was…” His eyes looked off into the distance, trying to find the words.

“Yeah, me too,” You giggled, pulling him into you for a soft kiss.

“I feel comfortable inside of you,” He ran a hand down your side, from your shoulders down to your thighs.

“Well that’s a new one,” You snickered.

“Seriously, I could just fall asleep right here,” He moved both of his arms to wrap around your neck, pulling himself deeper into you, his head leaning against your breasts. Your nerves were still sensitive from the earth shattering orgasm earlier, so it felt like an extra bonus.

“Mmmmm...me too,” You closed your eyes and sighed happily, stroking his hair gently.

You were both so at peace and so safe in each other’s bodies, somehow the next thing you knew, there was a pounding at your door.

----------

“Y/N!!!!!! Beto is hogging the bathroom!!!” You heard Yaz’s muffled yelling through the door. “Why is your door locked?!”

It took you a second to wake from the best sleep you’d had since you moved back home, but when you did you went to instant panic. You pushed a still half asleep Rafa off you, where he promptly fell off the bed onto the floor.

“Ow?!” He groaned, you slapped at him to be quiet.

“What was that?” You heard Yaz through the door.

“Uh, nothing! I stubbed my toe,” You lied, plucking a now dry condom from your insides. You tried not to gag as you tossed into the trash can. You grabbed Rafael’s clothes and tossed them at him.

“You stay here, until they leave for school,” You instructed him as you grabbed your shorts and tank top, throwing them on and unlocking the door.

“What’s up?” You peeked the door open.

“Can I use your bathroom? Beto locked ours,” Yaz asked.

“No!!!”

“....Why not?”

“I uh...I got sick last night, it’s gross in here,” You made a face.

“Are you ok?”

“Oh yeah, I’m still a little icky. So I think I’m gonna--” As you rattled off an excuse the bathroom door flew open and Beto walked out.

“Oh! Well, there ya go, Yaz. You good?”

“....Yeah,” She looked at you suspiciously.

“Y/N where 's Rafael?” Chloe came walking out of her room.

“Excuse me? Rafael was here last night?” Beto walked towards you.

“Yeah he was checking on us, because he's one of the good guys Beto!”

“YES, yes. Uh, Rafael came by last night. But he…” you glanced over at a still naked and smirking Rafael.

“You bet I came,” He whispered, making you blush.

“But he left,” You whipped your head back to face your siblings through the crack in your door.

“....Mmmkay,” Beto shook his head.

“Ok, have fun at school guys! I’ll see you later,” You waved and quickly slammed the door, leaning against it. Rafael, now in his boxers, walked up behind you.

“That was close,” He chuckled. You went to kiss him but--

“Y/N!!!!”

You suddenly heard rampant footsteps up the stairs and a pounding at your door. You pulled it open, Rafael standing behind it out of sight.

“BETO! Jesus Christ what--”

“WHY is this downstairs?” Beto held up Rafael’s leather jacket.

“Why...WHY is there a leather jacket downstairs?” You said out loud, glancing at Rafael who was mouthing “OOPS”.

“He must have forgotten it,” You smiled nervously.

“Bullshit. Is he still--” Beto went to push your door open wider, but the sound of the bus horn saved you.

“Oh! That’s the bus! You don’t wanna miss it!” You grabbed the jacket from him and pushed him to go down the stairs.

“Yeah... you tell him this isn’t over,” Beto growled, heading downstairs and out the door.

“Oooooh I’m quaking in my boots,” Rafael came up behind you, taking the jacket from your hands and kissing your ear.

“Not funny,” You spun around to face him.

“A little funny,” he nodded, pulling you into a kiss.

“Now what am I gonna do with you, it’s broad daylight! You can’t walk out of here,” You stroked his hair.

“Well...what time do you open?”

“In like…” You grabbed your phone. “3 hours,”

“Well, I know what we can do until then,” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Don’t you have a big boy job there, abogado?”

“What abogado? I don’t see an abogado…” He looked around mockingly.

“Ha ha. You know what I mean,”

“I can hang out here for a bit, I just texted my office I had to go see a judge about something before my case today,”

“Lying now, abogado? This doesn’t bode well with you handling my case,”

“Well I handled you pretty well last night,” He smirked, slapping your ass.

“That you did,” You smirked. “In fact, it’s still all over me!” You gestured to your waist and legs, covered in “dried Rafael”.

“Oooh, sounds like you need a shower,”

“Sounds like we both do,” You grinned, pulling him into your parent’s bathroom.

Time to clean up!

#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #law and order svu smut #rafael barba x you smut #rafael barba x reader smut #warning #my fairy abogado

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