#tell me why she suggested hiring them in the first place i'll wait

[inevestigator]

if bioware weren't cowards i strongly believe neve would loathe the crows as a faction.

[copinghex]

Family bonds | T.S

Summary: After a hurtful comment at a fundraising event, you wonder what really bonds Tommy to your child. 

A/N: Ok, so as I previously mentioned, I edited some of my old stories and will be reposting one per week. This is the first selected!

"Do you want to sit?" Tommy whispered in your ear, your hand went straight to your belly, moving up and down, where you baby rests and patiently waits to be born.

"No, I'm fine, just take this gin away from me, otherwise I'll be tempted," you pushed his glass away, "are the cute kids working?" 

"The wives look more excited than the men, but yeah, four huge donations until now," 

"In less than two hours? That's a new record!" 

This was probably the best business idea you ever had. The inauguration ceremony of the Shelby Institute for orphaned children took place in a cozy room, with closed windows and lighted up fireplaces, the cold breeze freezing the bones of anyone who dared to attend without a coat.

Months later, spring came to warm your bones and put a self-giving feeling into Thomas Shelby's heart. In the middle of a boring, typical week, he arrived home planning to uplift the structure of the institute's building. 

He told you the idea during the night, with his hand resting on your pregnant belly and although he didn't tell you what made him come up with it, you could clearly see his line of thought.

Tommy could rarely afford nice things, there was no gentleness in survival and for most of his life, that was all he did. Finally, with his rise to new money, he could provide something he never had to children who look too much like him - comfort. Also, being seen as a charitable person would do no harm to the business.

The small change of plans you suggested put a smile on his face, instead of making a typical fundraising dinner, why not make an afternoon tea? The invitations encourage couples to bring their children, seeing those innocent little humans running around shall make them remember why to donate.

A mansion with a huge garden was rented for the event, maids were hired to look after the children and butlers served biscuits and hot cups of tea. For your surprise, the event had more children than adults, most couples - including you and Tommy - were outnumbered by their children. 

Your eyes ran through the garden trying to find your little ones, the younger one was the easiest, no place was safest than inside your own mama, but it was better to keep an eye on the other three. Marie Louise Adler, whose hair looked exactly like yours. The twins, Henry and William Shelby, except for the eyes, are small versions of Tommy, from the physical appearance to the mannerism.

Quickly, you found William trying to teach one of John's girls how to use a slingshot. A few steps away, Henry had a handful of biscuits and carried a toy car made of wood.

"Where is Loui-'' before you could ask, a collective ugh followed by a child's cry got your attention.

Louise was under a tree with her knees on the grass, the hem of her yellow dress covered in dirt and the left leg of her white stockings ruined, exposing her bruised knee. Tommy reacted faster than you, his hand slid through your waist as he ran in her direction. You quickly followed after, rolling up the sleeves of your dress.

He picked Louise up, she put her arms around his neck and seemed to calm down a bit. A maid tried to apologize for neglecting your little girl, but you were too focused on following Tommy inside to answer.

Curious eyes followed your trio while you crossed the hallway and once you were in a private room, Tommy tried to put Louise on a sofa, but she didn't want to let go.

"C'mon, love," he encouraged, making her lift her crying face from his neck and allow him to sit her down.

"What happened, Lou?" you took her hair off her face and her stockings off, watching out to not brush her bruised knee.

"I was trying to climb on the tree, but I got scared and slipped up," she brushed off tears with her tiny hands.

Tommy took a napkin and wetted it with gin, after kneeling in front of the girl, he asked, "And what did me and mama say, eh?" 

She looked down, ashamed of disobeying.

"You can only climb trees when me or daddy are around to help," you rubbed her back, trying to comfort her.

"I'm sorry," she pouted.

"Now I have to clean your knee, it's full of dirt," Tommy held her leg.

"No! It 's gonna hurt!" she pulled her leg back.

"Just a little, but don't think about it," you sat at her side, holding her head to your chest, "think about the delicious cake I'll get you when we get home!" 

"Can we get some too?!" William, who'd been peeking the whole scene from the door, suddenly yelled, Henry tried to shush him and ended up being dragged by the hand into the room.

"Boys! How long have you been there?" 

"It was William! He had the idea of following you!" Henry quickly accused.

"That 's not true! You were curiou-" 

"Alright, boys, it doesn't matter," Tommy silenced the argument before it started, playfully hitting the twins foreheads with the napkin.

While you were distracted by the kids, Tommy had taken care of Louise's knee and the five of you were finally allowed to go back to the event.

Louise insisted Tommy should carry her, Henry and William took your hands and the eyes of many guests softened to the vision of you walking together. 

Soon, the kids dispersed in the garden, Tommy got the attention of charitable housewives, interested in donating to the institute, you leaned on an empty table, sipping your favorite juice and smiling at anyone who crossed your way.

"Mrs. Shelby!" an old woman walked to you with a huge smile, "I must say, this is the most diverse charity event I attended in years!" 

 "Oh, thank you so much, misses…"

"Thompson, Aline Thompson, nice to meet you," she shook your hand. "you don't drink?" 

"Usually I do, but I'm pregnant," 

"Darling! That's lovely! Your husband is already so lucky to have two kids, now one more!" 

"Three," you corrected her.

"Pardon?" 

"Thomas and I have three children, Henry, William and Louise," 

"Well, if that's the case, I guess you're the lucky one, Mr. Shelby indeed treats the girl as if she's his," 

"Hm," you pressed your lips together. "may I ask who told you Louise isn't Tommy's?" 

"It's written in the guest list, Y/N Adler Shelby and Louise Adler, I'm sorry for Mr. Adler, I'm sure he was a good man," she smiled, "now, if you excuse me," 

Aline left you with teary eyes, how dared she speak about your family like this? But what if…? What if she was right? Did Tommy really love Louise? Did he see her as his daughter or an extension of you?

"Seven, Louise falling over had a good effect on them," Tommy held your arm, telling you about the new huge donations.

"Really? That's great, love," 

"Are you alright?" 

"Yeah, just a bit tired," 

"I'll tell the driver to take you home," 

"No! There’s still a few hours to go,"

"Ada will take your place, most of the guests are leaving already anyway,"

"Oh, alright then," you drawled.

"Will you take the kids?"

"Yeah, I think," you looked around, searching for them, "just Louise, the boys look like they're having fun, can you look after them?"

"Sure." 

-

The way home was quiet, Louise had asked to rest on your leg and fell into deep sleep, Frances helped you to carry her to bed. After a well-deserved bath, you had put some foundation's papers in order so Tommy could add today's profit without any problem. Night was falling and all you could do was wait for the rest of your family to arrive.

Heading upstairs, your eyes fixed in a spot they usually didn't, the family painting. It took months of persuasion for Tommy to agree to pose and even longer for it to be done, since he only agreed to give away two hours of his agenda. 

Your heads leaned together in a sign of unquestionable affection, Louise sat in the middle, where your right and Tommy's left leg stuck together. William was on your left leg and Henry on Tommy's right, they were less than two years old and didn't get a characteristic Shelby haircut yet. All in all, you looked like a family, no one would dare to say otherwise, unless Aline Thompson.

The sound of the front door opening followed by the maid's heels told you Tommy arrived, you decided to wait in the stairs and he showed up alone.

"Where's Henry and William?" you asked with furrowed brows. 

"At Ada's, they wanted a sleepover with Karl," 

While you both walked upstairs, he had a hand on your lower back and you realized he didn't ask about Louise, the very first thing you did when Tommy arrived was to ask about your kids, Tommy didn't even bother, probably because Louise wasn't his.

Time passed quietly, Tommy took a bath and asked a few questions about the paperwork, you told him to add today's profit and nodded to whatever else he said. Night could have been good, or at least, peaceful.

He sat on the bed looking through his paperwork and his sudden warning made your jaw clench, "You have a doctor's appointment scheduled for tomorrow, so be home when he arrives," 

"What for?" 

"To check on our girl," he answered without paying attention.

"How do you know it's a girl?" 

"This pregnancy it's different from the boy's," 

"Oh," you lay down, turning your back on him, "I'm glad you at least care about this girl," 

He sighed and you heard him writing something, a few seconds passed until he asked, "What did you say?" 

You didn't answer.

"Y/n, what do you mean?" he touched your shoulder, trying to make you look at him.

"Nothing, Tommy, nothing," 

"No, what the fuck you mean with this girl?" 

You sat up, taking a good look at his face before questioning, "How many children do we have, Tommy?" 

"Three and another one on the way," he harshly answered and you sighed in relief.

"This is what you say to everyone else, right? Not just to me," 

"Yeah, y/n, of course, why would you fucking ask that?" 

You teared up and Tommy's face softened, he cupped your face, catching some tears and patiently waiting for you to speak.

"You only have three, Tommy, the twins and this one," you rubbed your belly.

"Who said that?" he looked at you with disbelief.

"It's the truth," 

"Louise is my child,"

"You know she's not, I know it, you know it, and-"

"Y/n-" 

"Aline Thompson fucking knows it," 

"Who 's Aline Thompson?" 

"It doesn't matter, Tommy," 

"It fucking does, if there's someone around saying Louise isn't my child, then I have to know," 

"It won't change the facts." 

"Listen," he moved closer to you and cupped your face again, "Louise is my child, I'm raising her, she's a Shelby." 

"Then why didn't you ask about her when you arrived?" 

"I asked Frances, she told me she's sleeping since evening," 

"Oh," your cheeks heated up, ashamed of this huge misunderstanding. 

"Who's Aline Thompson?" 

"A stupid woman at the charity tea, she said I was lucky for you treating Louise as your own," 

"Lucky, eh?" he nodded, "I bet her husband has a deal with the Shelby Company," 

"No, Tommy!" you giggle.

"Oh, just a few pounds to lose,"

"Tommy! You're mean! Not that she doesn't deserve it," 

Hesitant knocks on the door made you stop laughing, you and Tommy switched a look before he got up and opened the door.

"I'm sorry to bother, Mr. Shelby," a young maid holding Louise's hands apologized, "but Louise wants to sleep with you," 

Too sleepy to speak, your daughter rubbed her eyes and walked past Tommy, climbing on the bed and laying near you. 

"Right, thank you-" 

"Oh, also, Mrs. Thorne called, the twins want to come home."

[kagedbird]

TESSDE AU (+ Taliesin) Continuation from this

It has been a few days since Allora was kidnapped and the trio have been on high alert as they made their way to Whiterun to visit Bren. The boys figured it was something that could ease Allora's anxiety some by being in a familiar area, and the comfort the old man brought her. Allora was appreciative of the suggestion, but deeply worries Bren will be in trouble again should the assailants find her there.

They met up with him and took a much needed day to rest and actually feel safe for a minute as Allora starts to doze against Bren on the couch.

Kaidan: Oh, out like a light. I'll get'er to bed. *sets down his drink and carefully scoops her up* Allora: *takes in a sharp breath, tensing, before realizing it was just Kaidan and relaxing slowly* ...sorry... Kaidan: *sadly smiles down at her as he walks up the stairs* Never you mind that, lass. If I get knocked on my arse from startlin' ya, it'll be my fault. Bren: *watches them leave up the stairs, scowling* She's never done that before. Taliesin: I'm afraid something new has developed. She was kidnapped again recently, and it has taken some time for us to feel comfortable with much lately. Either we both or one of us is with her at all times, and she seems to be uncomfortable with touch that isn't announced. Bren: *sneers* You kill the bastards or do I have to do that myself? Taliesin: You'll have to go through her first, I'm afraid. It wasn't them who was behind it, just hired kidnappers. We're looking out for the ones who did. Bren: *sighs and pinches his nose bridge* Gods damn it all... why can't she just be left alone? She's been through too damn much all ready. Taliesin: *hums, swirling around his glass of wine* Yes, I do agree. Bren: *eyes him with a raised brow* ...You're actin' different. Taliesin: *blinks in surprise* I am? How so? Bren: *crosses his arms and stares him down* ...hah. You're in love with her. Aren't you? Taliesin: *splutters, nearly spilling the wine as he quickly sets it down on a small table* I-I beg your pardon? I haven't the faintest what you're-! Bren: Cut the bullshit. You can't hide it anymore than those other three idiots. That cat is just ways behind is all. *snorts and shakes his head* You can't hide it from me. But I won't tell. Taliesin: ...You are not... upset by this? Bren: Out of all the idiots who are fascinated by her, you might be the one I'm most okay with. *points a finger to Taliesin's face* But don't let that go to your head. Taliesin: *heart fluttering slightly at familial permission, placing a hand over his heart and bowing his head* I will endeavor to keep it from becoming as big as Kaidan's. Bren: *snorts and stands* Go on and tell that idiot to move her from her little nook. I'll take that spot tonight so she can have comfort with you both. I know you mean a lot to her. *goes about cleaning the dishes* Taliesin: *stands up and assists him before heading upstairs, feeling lighter than he has in a while before knocking on Allora's door and opening it* Kaidan, Mr. Folsterhan said- Kaidan: *gently kissing Allora on the lips as she clings to him, pulling away with a start to see Taliesin at the door* Er- Taliesin- Taliesin: *no longer feels as light, looking between the two as he gives them a thin smile* My apologies. I was just alerting you both that Mr. Folsterhan was allowing you to use his bed tonight. I will be adjourning to the Inn. I would certainly hate to intrude. Allora: *flinches slightly, carefully getting up to hurry to him* Tali... please wait... Taliesin: *arches a perfect brow* You don't have to explain anything, dear. I understand if this is where your heart flies to- Allora: *gently pulls him down by his robes and kisses his lips softly- clumsily- having to stand her tip toes to reach even that far* Please don't go... Taliesin: *flustered and swallows thickly* Oh... well... I suppose...

[Next one here]

[kerie-prince]

the intern

Peter Parker x Reader (college au)

requested: (anon) plz plz plz give me some college aged, super powerful ( think stark ceo powerful ) peter parker shit. idc what the rest of the story is about, i just need a brooding, smoldering, suit wearing, extremely expensive, college aged spiderman. plz and thank you!!!!

warnings: language

summary: When you start a new internship at Stark Industries, you're not only surprised to find Peter working as your boss, but that he's not the shy neighborhood boy you grew up with

a/n: this doesn't follow canon so for this imagine, hammer industries is just a rival company and the snap never happened lol also i don't know anything more than operating a phone so don't expect me to write sciencey, techy stuff lmao

(gif source)

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you were running across the road to jump into a cab that was available. Your phone hadn't been charging all night as you thought it had which caused you to wake up forty-five minutes before the start of the interview. You need this internship before you graduate from Empire State and get your degree in robotics.

On the way there, you nearly got car sick as the driver took sharp turns and nearly ran past intersections seconds before they became red. Once in front of Hammer Industries, your heels clicked loudly as you ran inside the tall building. You checked in with the front desk and took the elevator up to the 10th floor.

Just as you arrived, Justin Hammer was calling your name. “I'm right here!” you nearly tripped on your heels and your breaths were short.

“I've called your name three times, do you understand what that makes you look like, correct?” Justin stood unphased as you stood up straight and tried to steady your breath. “All these people are on time. Some of these folks have been here for hours, even.”

“Yes, sir. I’m so sorry–”

“Shame, I really liked your resume and your report on the expansion of nano-technology. Try again next year, maybe.” Justin started to call out the next participant and when she got up you stepped in front of her, “Please Mr. Hammer, I need this internship or I can't graduate.”

The people in the waiting room had their eyes on the two of you, tension so thick that it was almost hard to breathe. “Then maybe you should have come on time,” he pushed you aside to let the next person in to interview. You quickly ran back out and spoke to no one all the way home. Your eyes and cheeks were aching as you held in the tears during your Uber ride. The driver wanted to ask if you were okay, but if you were to break down in his car he’d probably be stuck having to listen to what happened and if he was honest with himself, he didn't actually care.

Once you got to your apartment, you made a straight line to the kitchen. “Hey, how’d the interview go?” MJ, your roommate, asked while still looking at her computer. You reached into the freezer for your emergency ice cream pint, snatched a spoon and walked into your room without saying anything. “That bad, I guess,” MJ said to herself.

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

You sat with MJ and Ned in the cafeteria, but had not touched any of the food on your plate. Your head was laid on the steel table and you just continuously groaned. “I’m a failure,” you whined.

“No, what you are is fucking dumb,” MJ commented as she ate.

“Thanks, Michelle, that makes me feel so much better,” you looked up to glare at her before laying her head back down. Ned felt bad that his friend was in despair, “How come you didn't ask Peter for help?”

“Huh?” you lifted your head back up some of your hair falling onto your face.

“Yeah, Peter already works at Stark Industries, why didn't you just ask him to get you in? You could even skip the internship altogether and be in full time,” Ned suggested. You gave it some thought, but something about it didn't sound right.

“No, I don't want to bother Peter. I don’t want him to think that I’m only calling him for a job,” you sighed. Ned texted Peter anyways. Unexpectedly, Peter texted him back immediately.

“He says it’s fine,” Ned showed you his phone to read the text. ‘Yeah man, tell her to come in tomorrow and Ms. Potts will interview her’

You let out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding and pulled out your phone.

‘Thank you so much for helping me out’

(…)

‘No problem, anything for a friend’

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

The Stark Industries building was huge. It almost looked taller than the Empire State Building, and maybe it actually was. Your legs were shaking as you stared up at it. “Here goes nothing,” you assured yourself.

The lobby was bustling with people; workers walking around, a group of kids that seemed to be here on a field trip, and some teens taking pictures in front of one of Mr. Stark's Iron Man suits.

The trip up to the 17th floor was crowded with people as more and more entered in every passing floor. You had to squeeze yourself out and accidentally stepped on someone’s foot in the process.

Looking around, your jaw dropped. It was an open laboratory with groups of people putting together small robots, flying drones, and people laughing and talking. It was such a fun and cool looking environment, you wondered why you didn't just apply here in the first place.

Pepper Potts spotted you walking around and approached you with a tap on your shoulder. “Hi, I’m Pepper. You must be Y/N,” she reached her hand out to shake yours which you accepted. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

“Peter’s told me a lot about you. Come, follow me,” Pepper’s office had glass walls and a view of New York from behind her desk. You weren't particularly fond of heights, but even you would love to have an office view like that. Pepper gestured to the chair in front of her as she smoothed her dress to sit in hers. “So, I see here that you had an interview at Hammer’s. Can I ask why you chose them?” You didn't even know how they got that information. You hadn't seen or spoken to Peter in quite a while, so how Pepper knew that was beyond you. You sat there with your lips moving to say something but nothing was coming out.

Pepper seemed to have caught on what you were thinking and elaborated, “Before I do any interviewing, I do full background checks on everyone.” She had a gentle smile which made you feel better. You thought she would scold you or something considering the question did more than catch you off guard.

“My mother used to work there for a long time and I figured that I would follow,” you explained. Pepper nodded her head and wrote some notes down. She looked onto her computer and looked at everything there was about you. “Well, I see here that you have exceptional grades. 4.7 GPA since you started school and your paper on nano-technology has gotten much praise. I think even Tony read it.” No way. The Tony Stark read my paper? “So tell me, do you see yourself working here at Stark Industries?”

You looked outside and watched everyone in the open lab again. “Yes.”

“Then that’s all I need to hear. We’d love to have you here,” she reached over to shake your hand. You looked at her surprised and hesitantly shook hers. “Welcome to the team, Y/N.”

“Thank you so much!” You cupped her hand with both of yours and shook it a little too quickly, but she didn't seem to mind. You were ecstatic to start your path to your career, and at a dream place at that.

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

Your alarm rang at the time you set it to, but there was no need for it. You couldn't sleep all night. Today is your first day of your internship and you were feeling so many things at once. Excited, nervous, happy, scared…

You tried to restrain yourself to a light breakfast, but MJ’s pancakes were to die for that you ate two whole stacks. You looked through your closet just about fifteen times; you had already picked an outfit the following night with the help of MJ, but when you put it back on, you hated it. It sucked for your roommate seeing as she had to sit through you changing from eight other outfits.

You tried to picture the lab again to see how other people dressed for a better idea to base it on your outfit choice. From what you remember, it was pretty casual, so that’s what you stuck to.

You were given your pass the day you were hired, so you had no issue walking inside. The elevator was just as packed as it was last time, but you were more composed so there were no toes being stepped on this time. You weren't exactly sure as to where you had to go, so you looked around to see if there were other interns to ask where to start.

“Y/N!” Peter’s voice surprised you from behind. Your shoulders jumped a bit, but relaxed at the view of his face. His face… you actually hadn't seen him for quite a while. Months, maybe. His jawline was more defined, and his once floppy hair was styled neatly. You tried to not look him up and down, but the temptation was definitely there. And the other thing, his voice was deeper than you last remembered. Is this really Peter Parker? “Hey, Peter.”

He gave you a hug that nearly made you lose breath. He was stronger than you remembered. A memory flashed back to when you were in junior high; you, Ned and Peter were hanging around the local park and you beat Peter on rounds on the monkey bars. He gave up after a couple bars, but you went back and forth a couple times. ‘Show off.’ But now, he had muscles that the shirt he was wearing hugged his biceps.

The hug was quick, and you had to pretend that he didn't just squeeze some life out of you. “Do you work on this floor?”

“Yeah, you’re actually assigned to work with my team. Come, I’ll show you around.” He started walking and you noticed how his posture changed. Damn, I know it hasn't been this long since I've seen him. Why does he look so different? He was wearing trousers. Trousers? Peter hates trousers. But his ass is looking great–

“Hey guys, this is Y/N. She’s going to be working with us as an intern. And I'll say this beforehand, no she's not going to be taking coffee or lunch orders,” Peter introduced you. There were various aged people in this group. Some were your age, and one person looked to have been in his thirties. Peter is in charge of this group? They all said ‘hi’ to you and went around introducing themselves.

Once that was finished, Peter pulled a chair for you on the table. “You’ll take notes for me while I give this presentation,” he whispered to you before walking in front of the table and started writing on the clear glass board.

He was talking quickly and didn't stumble over his words like he used to. Everyone was listening to him attentively and you jotted notes down as quickly as you could. Every now and then, you would steal glimpses of him and feel a sort of… well you felt something. Amazement? Inspiration? Adoration?

No doubt was Peter one of the smartest people you've ever met and here he was leading his own team and making potential products for Stark Industries at such a young age. Seeing him at work was so… it was indescribable to you but all you could think of was how different he is now. In a good way, of course.

Peter Parker has been your friend for years and to see him change from a bumbling, shy, adorable nerd into a confident, intelligent working man attracted you.

When you got home, you thought a lot about your first day. Being an intern at Stark Industries was really fun, so far. You weren't expected to do silly things like get coffee or lunch for everyone or pick up someone’s dry cleaning. You actually learned something and even had your opinions heard on some of the things that Peter suggested for his team’s upcoming product presentation.

If this is what it's like to be an intern, you couldn't imagine what it would be like working full time.

“How'd it go?” MJ stuck her head in your room. “It was fun. I'm working with Peter,” you explained your day to her.

“Cool,” was the last thing she said before she went to her own room for the night.

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

In the past few months, your internship at Stark’s has been going swimmingly. Everyone's been so nice, and the work is so fascinating. You've gotten closer with Peter and along the way, he felt like he was more than a friend and boss to you.

Currently, everyone was getting ready for their final presentations for the upcoming annual Stark Industries Convention. It was going to be Peter’s first year presenting his own project with his team and you were so excited to be a part of it.

The time you’ve spent with Peter was really fun. He was a good mentor and a great friend. The only thing was that you couldn't help but look at him a little too long, and you’ve found yourself thinking about him during your classes or doing your homework. The shy boy from Midtown High was no more, replaced– no, grown into the Peter you know now. But you pushed all feelings aside to focus on your next thesis paper and mock-up of the handout brochures of Peter’s project.

Sometimes, you didn't even feel like an intern as Peter would ask for any ideas you had to make the project better and even let you help with assembly. He stayed true to his words and you’ve never once had to run for coffee or things like that. There’d be times when you would study some of the little parts under a magnifying glass and he’d come up slightly behind you and explain about some of the bits on the working table.

And every time he did that, your breath would be stuck in your throat and you’d have to remind yourself that this was just Peter helping you out and you’re just learning. But it was normal to want more every now and then… right?

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

The convention was just a few days away and you had trouble finding something to wear. These events were usually black tie events, but did that mean the presenting teams as well? Wouldn't that be uncomfortable?

One of the guys on your team, Richie, sat with you during lunch and talked about how he was probably going to wear the same suit as always. Not because he couldn't afford a new suit, but he was just a simple person and he only wears it once a year for the conventions and that’s all, so it’s still in mint condition.

The girls on your team and some from others were going dress shopping the day before and invited you to join. You were excited mainly because now you don't have to bother MJ for it.

Speaking of MJ, you were going to ask her to come with you. Pepper sent out the electronic invitations to everyone in the company and authorized plus ones to even interns. She’s never been to one – for reasons you were still confused about – but you wanted your best friend to be there for you. And if not MJ, then you bet Ned would still come with you. Wait, what if he’s going with Peter?

On cue, Peter had sat in the chair next to yours in the small break room, “Hey, Y/N.”

“Oh, hey Pete. You excited for Saturday?” Peter quietly stirred his coffee and gave you a small smile, “Uh, yeah. I’m nervous, but I’ve worked really hard on this. And everyone, too. Including you.”

You slightly blushed. I didn't do all that much you thought. You two just sat there taking small sips from the hot, bitter beverage.

“So… I wanted to ask you something,” Peter started.

“Mhm?” The coffee nearly slipped past your lips. You quickly grabbed a napkin to lightly dab some of it off of your lips.

“Well, as you know, we can bring anyone with us to the convention,” he trailed off.

“Yes?” Is he going to…

“And I wanted to know if you were bringing MJ with you.” Oh. You nodded your head and thought you hid your disappointment well but without knowing, Peter actually caught it for a split second. “Good. You can come with me,” he smiled and stood up.

You were in awe; without effort, Peter just asked you to be his date for Saturday.

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

“Dude, how are you not ready yet? He’s gonna be here any minute,” MJ sat at her computer per usual working. Your music was too loud for her taste playing from your shared bathroom. Peter said he would pick you up at 7, and it was currently 6:50.

You had put on and removed your make-up at least five times. Something was always wrong; one of the wings would either be thicker than the other, the blush would be the wrong shade, or the lipliner kept going out of place. But, alas, you finally nailed it.

Your hair was styled half up with elegant curls and braids. In between some braids were little bits of baby’s breath flowers. Most likely, you were going to have a hard time taking those out but they looked cute and it was too late to take them out.

Your dress was right above your knee and flowed comfortably so you wouldn't have a hard time walking. It was a neutral taupe color and had a V-line that ended just above cleavage and hugged the curve of your waist. You paired it with simple black heels and a small, white handbag.

“He’s here,” MJ informed you.

“Okay,” you took a deep breath, “what do you think?” You spun around and held your arms out. “You look really pretty. Now go get ‘em. I’ll watch it on the live stream.” She gave you a lazy thumbs up and resumed her work.

Outside was Peter in an all-black apparel. His dress shirt had only one button undone, and he had a loose blazer that accentuated the dip of his shoulders. He stood against the limo with his hands at his sides. God, he’s gonna be the death of me.

When he caught sight of you, he had a flirtatious smirk on his lips and held out for your hand. “Peter, where’d this limo come from?”

“Mr. Stark set it up for me,” he stated like it was no big deal. Must be nice being his favorite. He held the door for you to climb in and closed the door behind him. “We’re ready, Happy,” he told the driver. Happy rolled his eyes, closed the window and drove off.

The convention was off to a great start; Tony Stark came in with his suit as he always loved to do and started introductions before everyone else scattered around to look at the projects of the many departments in his company. Some groups of certain departments had large stages, some had small stands, like Peter’s.

There were still large crowds coming to see the smaller presentations, and everyone seemed to be fascinated with Peter's. You stood on the side as his team operated the machine and Peter spoke. He looked confident and it was mesmerizing to watch him.

After the night was over, all employee’s and some guests were brought back to headquarters for the after party. You walked around with Peter and had flutters in your heart every time he held the small of your back. The most exciting part of the night was meeting Tony Stark in person. He greeted Peter warmly, and then his eyes landed on you, “Peter, who’s this?”

“Oh, this is Y/N. She’s a friend of mine,” he gestured for you. You shook Tony’s hand and stood starstruck. “The one you don’t shut up about?” Pepper hit his shoulder and laughed nervously.

“Wait, I’ve heard about you. Buddy of mine works at Empire State and he showed me your paper, it was really good.” You were still shocked that he had even read it and here he was talking to you about it. You went back and forth talking about nano-technology.

On the way home, you and Peter talked and laughed about things you told him as you caught him up to what was happening on campus when he couldn't be there. It was a really fun night, and Peter was more noticeably relaxed now that the hard part was over. “Alright, home sweet home,” Happy announced through the window.

“Well, that’s me,” you smiled sadly, not wanting the night to end. You reached to open the door but Peter climbed out from his side. He walked around to open your door and just like he did earlier, held his hand out for you to grab and assist you out the limo. What was different this time was that he kept his hand in yours as he walked you to the door of the apartments. “I had a great time with you tonight,” Peter confessed.

“Me too,” your voice was soft and low for only him to hear. Peter’s eyes switched from looking into yours to your lips before he grabbed your face with both hands and kissed you. The kiss was needy, passionate, but had a certain gentleness to it. Once he felt you kiss him back with the same fervor, he deepened the kiss and brought one hand to pull your waist closer to him.

You pulled apart to regain your breath and looked to admire his swollen lips and he copied the same notion. He leaned in to give you a gentle kiss and pulled away, “Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Peter.” Your cheeks were flushed and your face was warm. You watched him as he left and ran inside. Upstairs in your apartment, you found MJ and Ned sitting on the couch with a bag of chips in each of their hands.

“Good night?” Ned asked. You just nodded and walked slowly to your room.

“We saw the whole thing, by the way,” MJ said nonchalantly. You looked back to glare at your best friends, Ned smiling innocently at you and MJ keeping her straight face.

You changed into your pajamas and laid on your bed on your back, looking up at the ceiling. You couldn't wait to go back to work on Monday.

—

requests open!

[slashbitch2]

Extra Complications

never expected to be crushing on an animated character but here we are

Next Chapter

It was sneaky. Perhaps cheating by some standards. But from your perspective, it was a damn good plan.

Ironically you'd seen the advertisement for the Alchemax internship right after being flung into a wall by the very same woman who'd likely approved the broadcast. Olivia Octavius, or Doc Ock as you ought to refer to her in costume. Though she'd given you little time to read up on 'how to apply', as moments later a car was thrown in your direction, which was very inconsiderate of her, but was also all the persuasion you needed.

At this point, you'd be willing to do anything if it contributed to thwarting her, surely, very evil plan. Of course you admired the woman for her general genius and eccentricity, but the constant unprovoked conflict was becoming tiresome. It felt as if she were trying to determine how much of a threat you posed, whereas, you liked to think your legacy as 'that Spider-Person who sometimes saves the day' was all the evidence necessary.

Honestly, you weren't certain as to what exactly her, no doubt, villainous plan entailed besides patrolling the streets in green swimming goggles and black spandex with ridiculous plastic tubes jutting out of her back. In fact, it was ridiculous that no one had made any attempt to stop her yet. Unlike your identity, kept secret by a more modest spandex suit, hers was public knowledge.

Sometimes, it seemed as though you were the enemy here.

Which is precisely why infiltrating her team of scientists was more than appropriate. You were about to single handily take down an international threat, one hidden in plain sight, but left untouched due to the company's vast money, leverage and prestige.

Someday the city would thank you for your many sacrifices. Specifically for voluntarily working another job without pay. Y/N Y/L/N, broke intern by day, friendly neighbourhood Spider-Person by night.

"Excuse me?" A voice called from the left, your vision of them obstructed by an inconveniently placed potted plant. "Are you the new intern?" The person stepped closer, briefly glancing up at you, then back down at a sheet of paper. "Y/N Y/L/N?" The woman's timid appearance hardly screamed villainous scientist, but then again, looks can be deceiving.

"Yes, that's me." You stood, reaching out to shake her hand.

She sighed in relief, shaking your hand a tad too enthusiastically. "Lovely to meet you. I'm Marie and I'll be getting you settled in for the first few days."

A spark of disappointment flashed across your mind. Olivia hadn't been there for your interview, nor had any sway in your hiring, and now she wasn't even the person greeting you on your first day. Although you had no right to be, you felt rather offended by the lack of challenge she was providing. It was almost too easy.

---

To be fair, Marie was the perfect candidate to give you a tour of the facility. She was kind and patient, but not condescending. She seldom spoke beyond what was required of her, unless you asked something work related, when her lengthy response would affirm her status as an epicure of scientific knowledge. By midday, you'd decided she was someone to befriend, and subsequently accepted her invitation to have lunch together.

You were also hoping that the team would eat lunch as a group, but alas, more disappointment. Instead, you spent the break sitting in an awkward silence with Marie, who seemed to loose basic communication skills when presented with food. In spite of her lack of engagement, you still took the opportunity to try and ascertain information about the project you'd be working on, though each time she expertly diverted the interrogation, or ignored your question entirely.

Who knew working for an evil, secretive corporation would be so boring?

It was a test of patience to be sitting in the same building as Olivia Octavius, while forced to shadow an incredibly kind, but slow eating woman. Realistically, you knew there'd be plenty of time to investigate, though you were reluctant to end the day without any progress. So, while Marie was still distracted by her lunch, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

She dismissively approved with a wave of her hand, allowing you to slip away from the dining hall. You vaguely remembered the location of Olivia's office as being on the top floor, indicated by Marie's imprecise pointing. She'd explained that very few had clearance to get in, but you'd already thought of a way to get passed the security.

Who aside from the highest ranking scientists had access to every room? Janitors, of course. Because, for some reason, cleanliness was more important than security.

It didn't take long to locate a cleaner, or much effort to pickpocket the security card. To be on the safe side, you even had an excuse ready: that the man had dropped it, that you were simply looking for him to return it. And if Olivia caught you in her office, well, she wouldn't (Spider-Senses and all). Again, it was almost too easy.

There was a minatory silence as you walked along the final corridor toward her office. Part of you felt as though this was some kind of elaborate trap, the repeated phrase 'too easy' coming to mind as you reached the door. Though the logical part of you must've known this was a fatuous suggestion, and took control.

With a final pause to confirm nobody was approaching, or was already waiting inside, you scanned the key card. The action was rewarded with a satisfactory beep, followed by the door sliding open so fast it appeared to have vanished.

The office was smaller than you anticipated. Or maybe it was the bareness of the room that caught you off guard. The woman was insane, yet her work area hardly reflected her deranged mental state. Everything was so perfectly neat that you began to wonder if you'd actually walked onto a movie set, or a photoshoot, which would've explained the strange ring lights hanging from the ceiling.

Upon reaching the centre of the room, you were struck by the realisation that you truthfully had no reason to be here. Even if the office had been as messy as you'd expected, it was unlikely that she'd leave her super evil plans lying around. Rather, It'd been some morbid curiosity that had lured you here. To see where The Doc Ock worked, where the alter ego was likely created. The reality was underwhelming to say the least.

Deciding that you'd spent enough time admiring an incredibly bland office, you exited back out into the empty corridor, nonchalantly throwing the security card behind you, certain someone would eventually return it. Then, as if right on cue, you sensed somebody approaching, soon followed by footsteps resonating from around the corner. With no way of avoiding them, you kept your head down with the intention of blending in.

Olivia Octavius rounded the corner, not sparing a glance up. She was frowning at a piece of paper, her full attention directed to it, blissfully unaware of your presence.

Instinctively, your entire body tensed at the sight of her lithe frame and mass of hair spilling out of its messy bun. Any other circumstance and you'd have fled by now, through a vent, out of the window, it didn't matter. Though you had to remind yourself that there was no reason to be afraid now. There was no possible way she could know your identity.

Nonetheless, as you passed her with less than a metre of space, you held your breath. She said nothing and you both kept walking in opposite directions.

It seemed the coast was clear. You released the breath you'd been holding and kept moving until. "Hey, wait a minute."

You froze, aching to ignore her and escape. Her voice was deep, more so than you were prepared for. While fighting, few words were exchanged, and even then they were unintelligible. Although, now was the worst time to be thinking about previous interactions, so with much difficulty, you cleared your mind. As far as anyone knew, including yourself, you were just the intern.

You ran a hand through your hair nervously, straightening out your lab coat and turning to face her. She was stood at the far end of the long white corridor, entirely unthreatening when compared to Doc Ock, who would've loomed over you menacingly.

Remembering the role you were meant to be playing, you choked out a response. "How can I be of assistance?"

"You're the new intern, right?"

"Yeah." You considered approaching to shake her hand, but the idea of awkwardly marching the length of the corridor to greet her was rather unappealing. "That's me." You settled for a polite smile and shoulder shrug instead.

She screwed up her face in consideration before crooking a finger. "Come with me."

Swallowing any concern, you nodded hesitantly. The prospect of returning to the office you'd broken into only moments ago had you dragging your feet.

She waited patiently until you were by her side to continue. "Don't worry." She scanned her key card. "I don't bite." Her tone was playful, her eyes kindly mocking.

"Good to know." You muttered, following her inside. You took a second to look around the room with mock curiosity, feeling her eyes trace your every move. Like a predator, eyeing up its prey, determining your weaknesses. Unlike the encounters with Doc Ock, it was uncertain who had the high ground here. Her gaze was putting you on edge, not dissimilar to how your character of 'the intern' would react.

"So..." She shuffled some papers around on the desk, finding what looked to be your application. "Ms. Y/L/N right?"

You confirmed with a nod, summoning the resolve to amble toward her desk.

"Take a seat." She gestured to the chair opposite, letting you sit before proceeding. "Tell me about yourself, Y/N."

You started to think of an adequate answer, but she interrupted a second later, contradicting her initial inquiry. "Are you okay with me calling you Y/N?" She leant her head on a closed fist, narrowing her eyes.

Although the question sounded considerate, you didn't feel the implied sincerity. Even if you wanted to say no, that didn't feel like a suitable response. "Sure."

Somehow, it felt like she was establishing dominance through the polite act, and combined with being under her scrutinising glare, the performance was working.

"Great." Suddenly, she leant back in her chair, all evidence of the hostile act disappearing instantaneously.

"What'd you want to know?" Mirroring her relaxed posture, you attempted to re-establish some control.

"Oh, anything." A flicker of something passed in her eyes, piqued interest possibly?

You began routinely rattling off some basic facts about yourself, nothing too specific or personal. Facts that would answer any follow up questions she might have, and yet said nothing about you. Surprisingly, she seemed hooked on your every word. The thought crossed your mind that this might be the real interview, that everything else up to this point had been a sham. But you settled on a more unsettling justification. That she was committing everything you said to memory.

Coming to the end of the informative monologue, you decided to take a risk. "Do I get to ask a question?" You raised an eyebrow challengingly.

"Inquisitive. I like that." She stated, folding her arms on the desk. "Go ahead."

You decided to see how far you could push your luck. "Tell me about yourself." You smugly repeated her vague first query. It was the Doctor's turn to come up with an answer to the ambiguous demand.

She scoffed, realising your plan to make her struggle. "Touché. But I'm rather busy, so how about you pick a more specific question."

Narrowing it down, there was only one thing you wanted to ask. "Can I see the-" You waved your arms around, imitating tentacles. "the suit?"

She chuckled, slowly standing. Judging from her lack of surprise, this was likely a request she'd heard many times.

First, she removed her glasses. Then slipped out of her lab coat. Next to go was the shirt, which she pulled over her head while maintaining eye contact. You wanted to look away, out of respect, yet you didn't. Without the shirt, you noticed she was already wearing the suit underneath and had the harness strapped to her back, confirming your suspicion that she always had access to the weapon. As she was stepping out of her trousers, the arms (tentacles?) inflated, and within moments were threateningly extending to their full potential.

She smiled proudly, enjoying your stunned expression. "As good as you expected?"

"Better." Unable to resist any longer, you stood to investigate the suit in further detail. You'd never seen it stationary, or had the opportunity to try and gauge the details of how it worked. Although you argued this would be beneficial for your next fight, in reality you just wanted to admire the contraption. You circled round, marvelling at the simplicity of the design. It was convenient, yet elegant. "It's beautiful."

Coming to a stop in front of Olivia, she had an unreadable expression. A mix of emotions, most prominently confusion. To your delight, a faint blush coloured her cheeks. Whatever unspoken game you'd been playing, you were winning, or were until she said. "How'd you like to intern for me?"

You quickly recovered. "I already do."

"No." She sighed. "I mean personally. As my assistant? You'd get your own desk, an almost guaranteed job at the end of it and so much more experience than you'd bargained for." She leant forward, a little too close for comfort. There was an unhinged look in her eyes more reminiscent of Doc Ock that both convinced and deterred you. "So what'd you say?"

She genuinely wanted you to work with her.

This hadn't been part of the plan. You'd expected to spend no longer than a few months working at Alchemax. To uncover their evil scheme, figure out how to stop it and hopefully take down the company. An optimistic plan, sure, but one you'd been assured you'd stick to. Although, the opportunity to work closely with Olivia Octavian, with the Doc Ock, was too good to pass on. Not to mention, infinitely more interesting.

You grinned, embracing the insanity that your answer would incur. "I'd love to."

She clapped her hands together. "Great!" Then offered her hand for you to shake formally. "I'll sort out the paperwork and details this evening, but right now if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to."

She left before you had the chance to say anything else, still in her suit, which left you confused for the following half hour. You finally understood upon catching a glimpse of a news alert on your phone.

Doc Ock Seizes Bank, Has Taken Hostages!

You sighed. Today was going to be a long day, and things were only going to get more complicated.

[wanderinginksplot]

Rex + Engineer!Reader

This is the prequel to the Rex + Blanket Fort + Kisses one-shot found here on my masterlist. As this is a prequel to that story, you don't need to have read it for this to make sense. And as you could probably tell from the picture, this takes place during the Onderon arc.

Rex x gn!reader: intended to be early romance, but could be read as platonic.

Word Count: a bit more than 3,400

Warnings: canon-typical violence, including spoilers for the Onderon arc (S 5, E 2-5) of Star Wars: The Clone Wars

---

"And Captain Rex will train everyone in the encampment on basic combat skills and maneuvers," General Skywalker announced.

You didn't pay overly much attention to that. The general was younger than you had anticipated, but he was clearly used to combat and had the kind of authority usually honed through commanding large groups of soldiers. Still, you knew his order didn't apply to you and moved to slip away from the area. Your schematics needed a lot more work before the rebels could attack without bringing buildings down.

"And where are you running off to?" a muscular man with light hair asked, stepping into your path.

You gave a tight smile. "Classified, sorry."

The man nodded toward the general. "General Skywalker says everyone needs combat training."

"Oh, not me," you reassured him. "I'm a contracted engineer, not one of the Rebels. I'm just here to make sure they destroy as little of the infrastructure as possible while they take back control."

"And do you live in the encampment?" he asked.

You narrowed your eyes at him, feeling sure this was a trap. Eventually, you gave a short nod.

"Then you'll be training with me," he said firmly. "Captain Rex, 501st Legion."

You reluctantly shook the hand he offered and introduced yourself, finishing with, "-but I'm strictly an engineer."

"We're worried that this isn't likely to end without one or several attacks on this encampment," the captain told you. "A few hours of training could save your life."

"And a few hours of work on the city's schematics could save the lives of countless civilians," you argued. Sending that he would continue trying to convince you, you shook your head. "The Gerrera siblings are the ones who hired me. I'll let them make the final choice."

"And I'll leave it to the Generals," Captain Rex agreed.

Clearly not taking chances, he marched off toward where Steela Gerrera and Lux Bonteri were talking with Generals Skywalker and Kenobi, as well as a Togrutan female you vaguely remembered as being a commander.

"Generals, Commander," Captain Rex greeted with a crisp salute. You rolled your eyes. Soldiers. "We were hoping you could settle a difference of opinion."

"A difference of opinion?" General Kenobi repeated with a frown.

"What opinion would that be, Rex?" General Skywalker asked.

The captain explained the situation while you stood in silence. Steela met your gaze at several points during the conversation, looking concerned each time.

"We're only here to train the rebels," General Skywalker said after Captain Rex had finished talking. "Not anyone else."

"All of us are rebels," Steela argued, ignoring your signals that you didn't want training at all. "Just by being here in opposition to the Separatist forces, we are all considered a threat to their power."

"A contracted employee is different than someone who joined your cause because they believe in it," the commander countered, wrinkling her nose. "We aren't offering training to mercenaries."

"We're talking about an engineer, not someone hired to perform assassinations," Lux contributed. "What could it hurt?"

"Generals, Commander," Rex said, his quiet voice somehow drawing their attention. "I think every member of the rebel group needs to be trained. I think it's important."

"Rex…" General Kenobi sighed, but Skywalker interrupted before he could expand on his thoughts.

"I trust Rex's instincts," he told the older general. "If he thinks everyone needs to be trained, we'll make it happen."

You made a frustrated noise before you could stop yourself. "I don't need training. I'm an engineer. I don't work in combat situations."

"That's the thing about combat," Skywalker said with a shrug. "You don't always have to look for it. Sometimes, it comes to you. Especially in wartime."

The group split up immediately afterward, seemingly having come to an agreement. You followed Steela, determined to make your case and get back to your schematics.

"Steela, you know I'm not here for fighting," you said, jogging to catch up to the young woman who had hired you. "It isn't part of my contract."

"It isn't, you're right," she agreed. "But I would think carefully before I turned down a chance to learn such a valuable skill considering how dangerous the galaxy is right now. Surely this could be helpful as a freelancer traveling the universe alone?"

You didn't have an immediate answer to that. Steela clearly noticed, nodding solemnly at you before turning away. "The choice is yours to make."

You gritted your teeth, but your feet refused to move from the spot. To your left was the strategic tent and your unfinished set of schematics. To the right, the Jedi were helping the rebels set up some kind of training ring.

"Well?" a voice prompted. You already recognized it as belonging to Rex.

You stood still for a beat longer before giving a loud and heartfelt groan as you turned toward the freshly constructed training ring.

---

You were bad at fighting.

It wasn't really a shock to you. You had never been particularly graceful or good on your feet. That was why engineering had been such a draw - all mental work, almost no physical.

Rex, to his credit, turned out to be a surprisingly good teacher. He had kept everyone basically together as they learned new skills and practiced as a group. Still, he was determined that you would learn to defend yourself and here you were, fighting to shoot targets in the dying light, long after everyone else had scattered.

"I'm sorry," you apologized yet again as you missed. You were half an hour into intensive shooting lessons with Rex and you had yet to hit a single target.

"You don't need to apologize," he assured. "We'll just keep working until you get it down."

"I don't know if I can," you admitted, lowering the heavily modified blaster pistol until it was resting on the table in front of you. "We're losing the light and it's a bad idea to illuminate any more of the jungle than we have to."

"That's true," Rex agreed, rubbing at his neck while he studied the unharmed target. After a moment, he took the blaster pistol from your hands and holstered it at his side, then removed the holster belt as well.

You nodded sympathetically, hoping you could call it a night and put in a few hours of work on your schematics so the day wouldn't be a total waste.

Rex sighed, removing the subtly armored jacket he had been wearing during that day's training. "I guess we'll… we'll just have to switch to something less impacted by visibility."

"Wait, what?" you had time to ask before the stoic captain flat-out tackled you.

You were aware enough to know that Captain Rex had twisted to take part of the impact himself, but you still hit the ground hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs. In that moment of hollow gasping, Rex had pushed you onto your stomach and pinned your hands behind your back.

"The first rule of unarmed conflict is that you can't let anyone surprise you." Rex paused for a moment. "Actually, that's the first rule of any kind of conflict."

"Is the second rule that you shouldn't suffocate your sparring partner?" you croaked out, turning your head slightly so your face wasn't actively being pressed into the dirt anymore.

Rex laughed. It was the first time you had heard anything other than firm orders from him and you paused. It was a nice laugh. You were forced to gather your thoughts a moment later as he released you and helped you to your feet.

"You probably won't see a lot of hand-to-hand fighting with droids, but the armies aren't capable of anything beyond following orders. The armies are commanded by sentients, and those sentients are often closer to the armies than you would think."

"I have no intention of going after Grievous without a weapon," you joked. "Preferably more than one."

"You should stay away from Grievous no matter how many weapons you have," Rex advised. "But this is good to know, anyway."

"Actually, I agree with that," you said, surprising you both. "I'm a freelancer. Anything that helps me defend myself in a potentially hostile situation is a good thing."

"Okay, let's work on your hits, then," Rex suggested.

What followed was two full hours of unarmed combat practice. Rex was always the target, letting you throw punches and kicks against his open palms. When he realized that you were pulling your strikes because you were afraid to hurt him, he found a padded guard among the assortment of equipment the Republic had sent along.

Eventually, though, you were panting and bone-tired. Rex seemed to realize that without you saying anything.

"One last set of strikes and you're done for the night," Rex told you. It was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever said to you.

But as you punched, Rex moved the guard you had been aiming for. You shot him a look, but he only held the guard up, wiggling it slightly. You set up again, but Rex pulled away at the last second, dodging your fist to bop you on the shoulder with the guard.

"What are you doing?" you asked, exasperated. "You said this was the last set."

"It is. Or, it will be as soon as you actually manage to make contact."

You grimaced at him. This time, when he twisted the guard away, you turned with it. You were focused on keeping your footwork correct and your hit strong. You never even saw him move his foot between your ankles, but with a light tug, you were on the ground again.

"Seriously?" you asked from your spot in the dirt.

Rex laughed again, and this time, you didn't enjoy the sound at all. "Do you think your opponents are going to stand there and let you hit them? They're going to fight dirty - they always do. You just need to-"

As it happens, you never did learn what you needed to do. Rex had stepped too close, and your engineering experience told you that his ankles were at an angle that made him vulnerable to a hit. You kicked his ankle lightly, barely making contact, but it was enough to send one of his feet careening against the other. Rex stumbled, failed to regain his balance, and fell.

All of this was done on instinct and you felt as surprised as Rex looked when he landed on his butt in the dirt next to you.

"Good job," he said, breathless but sincere.

"Thanks," you accepted with a grin. "Does that mean I surprised you?"

"Not a bit," he denied, deflating your ego a bit. "I knew you were capable of it. You're an engineer. Engineers like angles and math. That's all combat is, adjusted for whatever you think the other side is going to do."

"Wait, that's… that's a really good point," you mused slowly. "Can I see your pistol again?"

Rex didn't move. "If you shoot me, you'll surprise me in the wrong way."

You snorted. "I'm not planning on shooting you, Captain. I just want to test how the application of math might help me."

After eyeing you for a moment, Rex stood in an enviably graceful motion and hauled you to your feet as well. Wordlessly, he handed you one of his blaster pistols. He had warned you before you began shooting that he had made numerous alterations to them, but you were still surprised by the weight of the weapon in your hand.

This time, instead of relying on instinct - point, aim, shoot - you worked to apply some logic. When you were sure about your angle, you squeezed the hyper-sensitive trigger and watched the resulting beam of weaponized light hit the target.

It wasn't a perfect shot, of course. Math couldn't fix everything. Still, you had hit the target and you cheered aloud, echoed by Rex's congratulations behind you. You had the presence of mind to set the pistol down before you turned, then Rex was grasping your forearm in the odd way warriors shook hands.

"Great job!" he told you warmly. "You're getting better."

"Thanks," you accepted, trying to vocalize your gratitude. You probably could have been offended by the tone of surprise in his voice, but you chose to overlook it.

"Now we just have to dial in your aim and get you comfortable with firing at moving targets, especially during chaotic situations."

Despite your best efforts, you felt your expression fall at that. Rex laughed again. When had he gotten so cheerful? "I'm kidding. That can be done tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" you repeated doubtfully.

Rex folded his arms across his chest and stared at you steadily. "In one session, you've gone from unable to shoot a gun or throw a punch to knocking me down and hitting a target. If you can keep that pace of improvement, you'll be a force to be reckoned with."

"Or at least be able to stop clients who try to cop a feel," you added.

Despite his darkening expression, Rex's tone was unconcerned. "I'm sure you could break the hand of any di'kut dumb enough to try it now. With some training, you'd be able to tear that hand off completely."

And so you continued to train with Rex after everyone else had finished learning to disable tanks and other intense activities. During the day, you finalized schematics, studying holoimages of Onderon’s capital city of Iziz. Your goal was to record your best guesses for the most and least structurally-sound sections of the city.

The dedication the rebels showed for the safety of the Onderonian people was a big reason you had agreed to take this job. Despite what the Jedi seemed to think, you weren't actually a mercenary. You chose your jobs very carefully, and if something didn't match your morals, you would respectfully decline.

Between schematic work in the day and training at night, your time with the rebels flew past. Captain Rex continued to be patient and helpful as you worked to master the combat moves he taught you - ones decidedly more focused on self-defense than the moves he taught the rebels. The first day you had beaten him in a grappling situation, he had beamed up at you with dirt on his face and told you how far you had progressed. The squeezing of your heart at the praise warned that it was probably good that the captain and both Jedi generals were withdrawing from Onderon shortly, leaving Commander Tano to assist with the remaining rebel efforts.

Despite your determination to stay out of the conflict, you had eventually been forced into it when the Separatist armies had attacked the rebel base. One of the rebels you had known by appearance if not by name had been hit by blaster fire before he could use the rocket launcher held in his hands. He had held it up to you, begging with his eyes that you take out the ship that had fired on him before it could do more damage.

You had accepted, and the ship was a roiling ball of flame before you could make yourself nervous about shooting anything other than Rex’s now-familiar blasters. You tossed aside the rocket launcher and found a discarded blaster. From that point until the combat had ended, thoughts of schematics or building solidity were gone from your head. You were as much a part of the rebel group as anyone else, and you watched with the same horror as Steela Gerrera fell to her death, despite the best efforts of Commander Tano.

The funeral was lovely. Onderonians didn’t believe in mourning for their dead. Instead, they truly celebrated all that the departed had done to create a better society… and Steela had done a great deal.

When things had ended, you were sitting on a raised set of stairs overlooking the ceremonial area. The dais holding Steela’s cloth-draped casket was filled with people far too important for you to bother. You were glad to see Saw speaking with King Dendup. After he had handed you the agreed-upon payment for your services - despite your many attempts to refuse the credits - Saw had left, ignoring the sympathy you tried to offer. He needed to speak with someone, and if that someone was the man he and Steela had worked so hard to save, so much the better.

“Nice ceremony, huh?” someone asked from behind you, and you twisted a bit to find General Skywalker standing there with Captain Rex beside him.

You nodded, but you could feel that it was a half-hearted motion. “Steela was so young. She had a lot of promise.”

“She died fulfilling the mission she set out to finish,” Captain Rex countered. “She knew the risks and thought Dendup was worth it. Her choices were her own. All we can do is respect them.”

With a joyless smile, you said, “Doesn’t make it any easier.”

“It never does,” General Skywalker admitted, sitting next to you. Rex’s comlink chimed and he stepped a respectful distance away before answering it.

Skywalker sat beside you in silence for a while. Normally, you would speak first just for sake of politeness, but you weren’t feeling that generous. You let the silence linger while you watched the activity on the dais.

“Have you ever thought about using your talents for the Republic?” the general asked eventually.

“I thought I was a soulless mercenary?” you asked before you could think better of it.

“And I thought you didn’t work in combat situations,” Skywalker countered. “But I’ve seen the battlefield recordings. You handled yourself well.”

You glanced over at him in surprise. “Are you trying to contract me on as a soldier?”

“Force, no,” he denied quickly. “As an engineer. I sent samples of your work to a friend of mine who works as an engineer in the private sector and they were impressed. The GAR is struggling to find good engineers comfortable working in combat. The pay is a bit lower than you’re used to, but it’s steady work.”

Ah, he had cut straight to the heart of your problem with freelancing. The fight to survive between jobs meant that anything extra you were making was eaten up by the time you were hired on again. And your morals meant that jobs weren’t nearly as frequent as you would like them to be. But being in constant combat… Yes, you had survived this time, but that didn’t mean you were rushing to repeat the experience.

You grimaced. “I appreciate the offer, really, but I don’t know if it’s for me. Combat engineering isn’t really my specialty.”

“I think you’re selling yourself short,” General Skywalker told you seriously. “I’ve seen samples of your past work, and a lot of it is on worlds that have a lot of fighting. I’m sure you know that none of your structures have sustained extreme damage, no matter how much combat was happening around them. That’s an impressive record.”

“You researched me?” you asked, feeling a little stunned.

“Well, the Republic likes to know who they’re hiring. But honestly, I’m not the one who did the research,” Skywalker said, looking past you. You followed his gaze to Rex, who was suddenly very intently looking at his comlink. With a mischievous grin, the general added, “I think my captain has taken a liking to you.”

You fought back a grin, turning away from the captain, and your eyes fell on Steela’s casket once more. Suddenly, keeping a straight face wasn’t as much of a struggle. “If I said yes, what would my official job duties be?”

“You would oversee a group of construction experts - both civilian and enlisted - using maps and satellite footage to find the best possible choices for locations to build bases, bridges, or other structures to help us complete campaigns,” he answered easily. “Preferably, to win campaigns, but that’s more on us than you.”

“And would I work with your group?”

“The 501st?” Skywalker asked, sounding surprised. “I’m not sure, but probably. We’re a planetary landing battalion, so we always need someone who has the knowledge of places to build. You might have to stay behind on some planets to supervise base construction, but you could always catch back up with us. Is that something you would want?”

“Yes,” you said firmly. “If I did agree to that-”

“I’m no good at negotiations,” he interrupted with a self-deprecating smile. “You speak clearly about what you want and I’ll do what I can.”

“I’ll work for the Republic,” you said, feeling the nerves twist in your belly. “If you can make sure I’m permanently attached to the 501st.”

“Deal,” General Skywalker accepted immediately, holding his hand out for you to shake. “Welcome to the 501st.”

---

A/N - I assure you that there is no timeline of any sort happening in my writing, so don't think too hard about where this should fit into the narrative. It won't end well.

Thanks for reading!

Next | Masterlist

Taglist: @imabeautifulbutterfly

(If anyone else wants added to any taglist, just leave a comment or send a message!)

[ladywinterwitch]

Run Away (Ten - Strangers)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Avenger! Reader

Summary: You and Steve complete each other. Your love is that strong and devoted kind of love that pushes people to things like marriage, making a family. You couldn't imagine that a baby would be something you really wished, until the possibility wasn't your choice anymore.

Warnings: pregnancy talk, fluff, A N G S T, I think that's it??

Words Count: 3739

A/n: Next chapter is longer and INTENSE

Series masterlist , main masterlist

(GIF not mine)

Y/n and Steve ended up falling asleep, which was a bit embarassing especially on his part. In the end tho they woke up around two in the afternoon and were starving. You also thought about the fact that Helen must've already set in by now. After cleaning up a bit and getting redressed the two actually went to separate directions, Steve to the gym because he had a bunch of new recruits to train by three sharp, while Y/n was heading to the kitchen.

-FRIDAY, would you call up ms Simon for me?- she found Tony, Vision and Thor in the common room so she quickly greeted them.

-Hey guys, taking a break?- she smiled when Thor got up to greet her properly. He was such a physical and affectionate person. He reminded her of a golden retriever; huge, with long hair and a heart of gold. Your smile widened when he bent down to press his ear to her belly.

-Well yes darling, do you forget that aside from kicking some ass every now and then we're basically jobless?- Tony joked. Both he and Vision were looking at you two.

-How is your pregnancy going, Y/n?- Vision asked in his posh and polite manner. She tilted her head to the side. Thor still touching the smooth and round surface. She didn't mind at all.

-It's going smoothly, thank you. Tho if I have to be honest I can't wait to at least give birth. I love my belly but it's so complicated to live with. I also miss actually moving around and exiting the tower. I don't think I've ever been so still and babyed in my life.-

-If it was an easy job, God wouldn't have gave it to women.- they all turn around when you hear an unfamiliar voice, which they soon found out to be Helen's. Thor stands straight in all his tallness and gets in front of her protectively.

-Who are you?- he asks suspiciously. She put a hand on his arm to calm him down.

-It's okay, Thor. This is Helen Simon, she's my new midwife. The one me and Steve hired this morning.- her head turns quickly to Tony then back to Helen. Tony stands up, fixing the invisible fold in his tracksuit pants and smugly walks to the older woman.

-Stark. Tony Stark. I actually hired you, but I'll let the happy couple have the glory.- he joked and you shook your head amused. They shook hands and then Vision introduced himself as well. Thor just acknowleged her with a nod. It's not like the God of Thunder had to introduce himself.

-Okay guys, see you later. I'm starving so.- you decided to cut it, but obviously Tony had to sneak in a joke. Had to.

-I'm sure cap worn you out.- Thor, which didn't know what timing was, bless his heart, decided to burst out laughing. You rolled your eyes not looking back.

-Jealousy doesn't match with your shoes Anthony.- you clapped back, still hearing Thor laugh and Tony calling him out.

A few feet down the corridor there was the kitchen, and when Y/n finally tought that her and Helen could have a minute alone, they found Wanda intently reading a book while she mover her finger around to spin the teaspoon in a mug. She looked up when they entered the room. Her finger stopped working and so did the spoon, the faint magenta colored aura disappearing.

-Hello?- she said, tentatively. Y/n ignored her cold stare and walked to the fridge taking out the leftover chicken and some salad to mix.

-She's Helen, the midwife me and Steve talked about.- there was a subtle warning in Y/n's voice. She thought 'Be nice' in her mind, and when Wanda sighed she knew she read her mind.

-Nice to meet you. If you'll excuse m- - Wanda was about to get up from the stool but the old woman's voice stopped her.

-You aren't eating that chicken cold are you? How old is it?- she walked closer, grabbing the plastic box from her hands. Both her and Wanda were a little taken aback by her bluntness, and shared a look.

-Uh..Yeah? I was actually going to put it in the salad. And it's..I'm not sure, a couple of days old? Still perfectly fresh and untouched.- she answered trying to reassure her, but she wasn't having it at all.

-This isn't eating healthy. If you want a healthy baby you need to eat properly. I'll take care of your meals from now on. - she stated, putting the box aside. - The non pregnant teammates can risk getting sick with that chicken. - Wanda's gaze darkened and her eyes took a light shade of red.

-What's that supposed to mean, old lady? - Y/n saw her fingers starting to move around with the corner of her eye and put her own hand on hers.

-Helen didn't mean anything, Wanda. She just meant that I have to be extra careful in comparison to the rest of you, ok? Don't you have to be somewhere right now?- she asked in the most calm way. The last hting she needed was Wanda yeeting Helen out of the tower on the first day. Wanda closed and picked up her book and mug, walking towards the exit of the kitchen.

-I mean, I'd like to go to the terrace to chill, but I can't.- Y/n frowned while sitting on a stool. Meanwhile Helen had already started to inspect their whole frige.

-I can feel Bucky and his girl going at it so yeah, I did not plan to watch a live performance.- she choked on water and the old lady turned around with a rather disgusted face. Wanda just shrugged and left them. The girl turned towards the older woman with an awkward smile.

-Welcome I guess.- the short fake laugh was over as soon as Helen sat in front of her, her hands conjoined in front of her.

-This isn't good.- the girl shifted uncomfortably, then uncosciously starting to rub her belly as a sign of comfort.

-What isn't?- the lady sighed. -First off, there are way too many people here. This place is chaotic, the people aren't giving you the peace that you need. This isn't a baby-space. At all. I just looked into your frigde and there isn't a single thing ready or 100% healthy probably except vegetables. Y/n if you want to be a good mother and be healthy for your baby you need to change a few things.- her words at first irritated her, setting off her protectiveness towards the people she called family, but then as she went on, she made her feel little. Like a little girl who wasn't good enough. She sighed silently.

-What would you have me do then?- she asked. Helen shrugged, still mantaining her perfect posture.

-I'm not gonna suggest you to buy a new place, because where you'll live after the baby is born is your business, but..- she paused, -I can offer you to come live at my place for these last two months or so. I have a nice, peaceful place a little outside New York. I already had eight of my patients do this, it's not so absurd.- she explained like it was the most normal thing in the world. Y/n was listening, but she wasn't convinced. She decided that she had to think about it first. She had to know for sure that she was professional and competent.

-I don't know, Helen. I'll admit that it isn't the most tranquil place to live, but...these people are my family. They have always been by my side, pregnant or not. And what about Steve? The father of my firstborn?- she marked the last phrase, tilting her head to the side. A little habit she probably took from Wanda.

-Because they care about you. But in truth, tell me, aren't you feeling like a burden? Like you get into their business?- she mirrored the young woman's expression. Y/n didn't answer at first.

-You're really not going soft on this are you?- Helen released a dry laugh. Shook her head and paused before talking.

-Yes. I began working as a nurse unofficially when I was 13 years old, during the Prague Spring reforms in '68. The hospital was in short of nurses so.- she explained, -That time wasn't easy. Not that the one before it and after it wasn't, that is. You either grow a thick skin or you don't survive.- Y/n felt for her, as she had a very similar destiny. First she doesn't know how she ended up in an orphanage, and then when she was fifteen and nobody took her, they kicked her out. She was homeless for a year until SHIELD recruited her, and the rest is history.

The older woman got up and took some vegetables, washed them and then placed them down to slice them. Y/n got up as well and started helping. She eyed the fresh eggs, so she guessed that Helen wanted to make a quick frittata.

-How did you end up in America? As midwife, nonetheless.- she asked.

-Why most foreign people come to America? Certainly not the food.- The woman responded with a slight hint of irony. The girl chuckled.

-Touché.-

-In any case, I've been here more than half of my live, moved many states mainly for my own choice. Being a private midwife pays decently.- she paused to dump the sliced vegetables into a pan with a little oil and salt.

-I became one because I was fascinated by the whole process that the woman's body goes through both before, during and after birth. I assisted two of my older sisters, and in the end ended up doing it as a job.- Y/n nodded, listening.

-That's actually amazing. But if I can ask, you do not have kids yourself?-

-No. Didn't have the possibility at first. Then decided that just it was my profession but not my future. No regrets.- she answered even tho the girl could sense that something was off. She decided not to intrude.

Silence fell between them while they were cooking, and the younger woman took the popularity to think about what she said. The woman was practical, a bit harsh maybe. But she also had a lot of experience. She didn't like the thought of leaving her family, but she had to admit that she often felt like a burden lately. More than once someone stayed behind to look after her, and even tho they didn't seem to mind at all, she did. She wasn't used to being so pampered and looked after, and sometimes she almost felt suffocated. Guess that spending many years of your life having to take care of yourself takes a toll on you.

She didn't want to decide anything without talking it out with Steve first. And it wouldn't be permanent, just for the last couple months or so, until she had the baby. If she really thought about it maybe she needed some time to reconnect with herself, to learn how to take care of her baby in the best way possible. Even the stupidest thing like cold chicken could potentially make her sick, and it was such a small thing. But that doesn't change the fact that she didn't knew. She wasn't one of those moms who surrounded herself with books teaching her every do's and don'ts, but at this point insecurity was kicking in. The last thing she would ever want was to be a bad mother even before actually becoming one.

-

Between a baby shop and another, and a whole new diet including an embarrassing amount of tea, Y/n finished her eight month of pregnancy. She was feeling as tired and as big as ever. Helen actually helped a lot both with the cooking, the health tips and with the shopping. She actually sobbed when they bought the crib. Both because she was emotional, a bit because hormones and also because Steve was again away on a mission. The whole team was actually. They had new leads in the Hungarian case and another completely different mission in South Korea, a tough one. So it required the whole team split up. That was the fist time Y/n was left alone since she knew she were pregnant. It all went smoothly, the tower actually felt quiet for once.

Y/n and Helen had found a nice dynamic, and most of the time spent time in a comfortable silence, each doing their thing. A downside that she wasn't realizing was the distance that was slowly creeping from her to the team. They didn't really like the midwife that much, Wanda, Thor and Bucky especially didn't like her at all. But Y/n felt for her, she felt like she knew her better than them so she often took her side, which hurt them back.

Steve on the other hand wasn't realizing it almost at all. All he cared about was his wife being healthy and that she got along with the midwife. They didn't sleep together often anymore, due to the fact that he was often away and she was constantly tired. Bruce did warn her at the beggining that this 'enhanced' baby would've probably tired her out, and it did at first but then she was feeling very well. She and Helen both blamed it on the tiredness of the pregnancy as a whole.

The last straw was when some of the guys, specifically Sam, Thor and Peter, whom didn't live at the tower and was rarely involved in missions because of Tony, went to see them and in some way, nobody actually know how, they made a whole ass hole in the floor above the library. Fate wanted that Y/n and Helen were reading just a few feet away. If they were just a bit closer to the door, they would've been hit by the pavement pieces.

Helen gasped and jumped out of her seat, book still in her hand by the corner. The younger woman on the other hand was more mad than anything.

She rose from the armchair, struggling a bit and marched towards the now destroyed door. The damage wasn't so bad, but it was still damage and it could've been way worse. She was fuming.

-Y/n! Shit are you okay? - Sam yelled from above. The three guys looking down from the hole they created.

-I'm so sorry it wasn't me! It was Thor! - Peter joined in and caused the God to respond, and from that a whole lot of mess arose.

The people who weren't on a mission, which were Wanda, Bucky and Tony, came running.

Y/n didn't know where to look and all of a sudden started felling a bit suffocated. She brought a hand to her forehead, distubed by the chaos arouns her.

-Stop! Fucking stop it! - she yelled, groaning from frustration. Everyone stopped talking while the girl started to feel her eyes prickle with tears of frustration.

-Why is never, ever a single day if peace in here? There's always someone around, making a mess, making noise, complaining- - she almost stumbled on a piece of ceiling that had fallen, but Bucky and Tony were right behind her and helped her stabilize herself, but she shoved them off.

-Leave me be!- she exclaimed frustrated. She huffed, trying to take a deep breath. -I'm moving out.- a chorus of 'What' arose. Bucky stepped forward and grabbed her wrist gently.

-What are you talking about?- his eyes showed confusion and panic.

-And when would have you decided this stupid thing?- Tony crossed his arms and went straight up 'Tony Stark' on her. Y/n rolled her eyes, ignoring both questions and walked out of the now damaged library. Helen followed suit.

-At least wait for Steve to return!- Wanda said. Thor jumped down, through the new hole in the ceiling and followed her like the others.

-Y/n, we're sorry! Look, I'm gonna fix the ceiling myself okay? Please don't go- Y/n's ached to see them upset, but she was tired. Too tired. She was afraid that if she had stayed more than she could withstand, their relationships could've been ruined. That was the last thing she wanted. She didn't knew exactly what was that overwhelmed her so much. She felt constantly tired and in pain, all the noise, number of people..it had become just too much. She needed to finish this pregnancy alone, or at least in a more quiet place.

She stopped in her tracks and exhaled silently. Her eyes passed through everyone in the room. Even in that moment, they were decimated because of the mission, yet there were still eight people in the room. When normally it would've been around 15. That's too many people.

-It's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault, specifically. I just.. I feel overwhelmed. There's too much going on here at the tower. And for me it's like seeing life go on without being able to do anything. I need some space, okay? It won't be forever. Hell, if everything goes well it's gonna be a month, at best. But I really, really need a break. I am going to pack and leave by afternoon, when Steve returns, just send him to the address that I'll leave for him. Okay? I love you guys, you're my family and I wouldn't be where I am today without you. Its just temporary.- she smiled softly, trying not to get emotional. Wanda was visibly upset, on the verge of crying. The others just looked sad, maybe disappointed. But nobody said anything, so she turned her heels and went straight to her room.

-

By five pm she and Helen were already gone. The older woman called them a cab, the driver took care of their stuff and then they were gone. Y/n was silent during most of the trip, both because of the extreme tiredness and sadness. She never changed home since she moved to the tower. She also thought about what she would tell Steve. She knew she couldn't contact him, so she didn't. They had left two days prior, so it was a bit early to know when he'll be coming home. But she knew a hundred percent that he would've gotten to her even before going home.

The two women were headed to the older one's house, which was in Avalon, New Jersey. Helen had told her about her beach house, quite far from the city. Y/n did actually fall asleep after the first hour or so, they had around three in total so she didn't worry about not waking up. By her surprise though, she did sleep throughout the whole trip, and yet, she was still tired. In those days her head gave her particular discomfort, so any noise at all really disturbed her.

Helen woke her up gently when they arrived, the she helped her get out of the car. Meanwhile the driver, which was a quite young man, probably around her age, which was 27, with curly black hair, stubble and dark green eyes, took their luggage off of the trunk.

-That's all. Have a nice stay.- he smiled slightly. Y/n frowned, what about the money?

-How much do we owe you?- she asked sweetly. He waved his hand dismissively, going back in the driver's seat.

-The lady already paid me, I'm ok. Bye.- he waved goodbye and drove off. Y/n and Helen dragged the luggage insider her villa, by which the girl definitely was taken aback.

-You didn't tell me that you live in a Villa?-

-Maybe, but I did tell you that being a private midwife pays well. I also need space if I want to take people living with me.- she explained. The first thing that you could see was the huge open space which showed a not exaggeratedly large living room with a window door on the right, on the left there was the kitchen and in the middle a staircase.

It wasn't very decorated, but the light palette of the whole place defines had a calming effect. Y/n was so used to the high rise and high technology of the Avengers tower that she had almost forgot how nice and intimate a normal house could be.

Helen showed y/n around a little, then ended up in the spare room, which had a large bed, a balcony and some essential forniture pieces such as a wardrobe, a vanity, a full length mirror, an armchair.

-This is really nice, Helen.- she smiled tiredly, caressing her big belly while she walked around. But as she was walking towards the balcony, she had a slight attack of vertigo, and her knees buckle for a second. The woman was at her side in a few seconds, helping her onto the bed. Y/n huffed, the back of her hand on her eyes.

-Why am I so shitty? I was pretty good until a few months ago.- she whined, and Helen shook her head while she stroked her arm.

-Every pregnancy is different, Y/n. You're just tired, from the car and that chaotic place.- the disdain in her voice didn't really pleased Y/n, but she didn't say anything. She didn't have the strength and besides, it's not like she was particularly liked at the tower anyway.

-I'll get you a tea, be right back.- Y/n chuckled.

-I drank more of your Hungarian tea than water in the last months.- Helen pulled a tight smile.

-Well, it is a traditional recipe for pregnant women. Not that you seem to mind it either.- the girl relaxed her eyes and discarded her sneakers to the ground.

-No, it has a peculiar taste but not bad.-

-Good.- and with that she left the girl alone. Helen went down the stairs, and turned on the stove to warm some water. She then opened a drawer, forcing the wood layer to come up by using her fingernails, pulling out an old fashioned phone.

She went to the contacts and dialed the only one there was. She waited a few minutes, when someone picked up.

-Igen?-

-Közeledünk. Készülj fel.- she said, hanging up.

************

Translation from Hungarian: ‘Yes?’ ‘We’re close. Get ready.’

Hiii, this is quite a short chapter but I wanted to end it with ✨ suspense ✨ the next one tho is gonna be way longer. Lastly, friendly reminder that my taglist and my ask inbox are open!

***********

Taglist : @polarcrystall @a--1--1--3  @jessyballet​

[marchioness-caprina]

Love Scandal

Pairings : Reader x Hawks

Writing Style : 3rd Person

Warning : Slight Yandere! Hawks ( If you squint Really Hard) , Cursing

Word Count : 2754

3rd Person's POV

" You have GOT to be kidding me! " Y/n yelled in frustration as Momo gave her a concerned Look.

" So.... Is what the Tabloids saying True--"

" Of course it's not! I just work under His Agency! And what happened Yesterday was Purely out of Defense and Nothing else! " Y/n cut off Jiro immediately venting out her frustrations.

Y/n along with the girl's of the Former Class 1-A were hanging in a small Cafe to catch up since things had been pretty hectic since they became Pro Heroes a year ago.

" So.... What are you gonna Do about it? " Uraraka asked as she read even further through the article and she gasped.

" Oh no.... Don't tell me it's something terrible? " Y/n muttered already seeing what's to come judging by the look her Friend gave her.

" Uhh... You could say... You two were caught in the... Umm.. Act? " Uraraka tried finding the right words so she wouldn't annoy her friend even further before showing her phone towards y/n who's eyes widened like flying saucers.

On the screen was a picture of Her and Hawks in the Alleyway. Hawks was turning away from the camera but he clearly had his hands on y/n's hips and from this angle it looked like they were kissing.

" Ugh! For crying out loud who took this picture !? Fucking Son of a Bit--- ugh! " Y/n fumed in utter irritation her red turning extremely red not because of embarrassment but because of anger and irritation.

" Y/n calm down, I think it's best if you talk to Hawks about this... Maybe he'll clear it up Kero " Tsu suggested and y/n had already bolted out the cafe in full speed.

It was silent inside the cafe before one of the girls began talking.

" Wouldn't they make a good pair though? " Mina muttered and the girls all gave a small giggle before agreeing.

____________ Meanwhile

Y/n was stomping through The Building and her hero co-workers could clearly see the growing irritation of her aura and they were genuinely scared to approach the fuming lady.

Once y/n was outside Hawk's Office she slammed the door open revealing a resting hawks with his feet on his desk. His face was covered with an old newspaper and y/n could hear audible and soft snores coming from him.

The man was clearly unaware of her presence when she literally slammed her way inside while stomping a aloud as she could... He was unaware or so she thought .

" Hawks! Fucking wake up! " She growled her to me seeping off irritation.

Hawks stirred in his sleep and with a groan he pulled the newspaper away from his face and opened one eye to see the figure of y/n who was menacingly glaring at him.

" Hey Kid what brings you to my Nest mphf-- Ahh shoving it to my face now aren't you?... Let me guess My fault? " Hawks smirked when Y/n had forcefully shoved her phone containing the article of their so called ' Love Scandal ' .

" No shit Sherlock! You Think!? Why the fuck did you have to shove me to the alleyway like that!? I told you I could handle it!" Y/n barked as Hawks's eyes trailed down to her phone lazily reading through the article chuckling to himself.

" Ohoho~ Looks like the headlines got the best of us Kid. Just look at all these Juicy details---"

" Which are False" Y/n immediately cut in glaring at the man who gave her a Bemused expression.

" Well you did decide to get involved with a scoundrel like me---"

" Only because you keep blocking other Agencies from Hiring me because you wanted me in yours" Y/n cut him off once again to which Hawks only gave a chuckle as a reply.

" You know Kid, you gotta let me finish my sentences. Now stop being angry you'll get wrinkles " That comment made y/n furious her hand immediately came clashing on Hawks's cheek with a loud slap.

" Ohoho~ ok I guess I deserve that one for not taking it seriously " Hawks Grinned eyeing the girl infront of him.

" You've really turned Feisty Baby Bird, it feels like Yesterday you were a polite and obedient Sidekick and now here you are slapping your boss like that. You know I really gotta give you credit for not taking my bullshit like that " Hawks yawned sitting down in a more comfortable position.

" Oh come on Hawks, we know I take all of your bullshit Every fucking Day and This Time it's Kinda frustrating... Oh wait let me rephrase that. It's Extremely Frustrating! " Y/n hissed crossing her arms over her chest as her glare became ice cold and the man before her only growing Amused by her reaction.

" So what do you expect me to do? Bullshit Rumors will be Bullshit Rumors and I don't give a damn about every single one of them... So let me guess. You want me to make a public appearance and Deny everything they claim here on this Article? " Hawks questioned and Y/n who seemed to be a bit more calm now gave him a firm nod.

" Yes, that is exactly what I am expecting you To do Hawks. I want this Rumor to Vanish immediately. You deny it and I Deny it too, let's explain why we were in that position " Y/n stated her tone was calm and collected , the opposite of the tone she used before.

Hawks nodded his head continuously in a slow and lazy manner his eyes never leaving the girl as his expression seemingly showing as if he was in deep thought.

" Yeah.... I could do that but" Hawks paused a playful glint displaying through his orbs, his eyes meeting hers that smirk on his face never seemed to falter.

" But what? " Y/n questioned clearly growing irritated again.

" But I won't " His answer set y/n off ten folds and she was so close to flipping his desk . She almost did but Hawks stopped her before she could wreck the whole place.

" Just Kidding. I will " He laughed and y/n was too pissed off to deal with her antics she just turned around and left.

" I'll call the press. You better clear this mess Hawks " She spat out before leaving.

Oh y/n, she has no Idea Hawks had cunningly planned all of this from the very beginning so he could slowly have his way around her. Hawks had been patient with her ever since the first year she had interned in his agency as a student. The moment he met this strange epitome of beauty named y/n he became a love struck desperate man who craved nothing but the affection of his most prized position. Y/n.

He Even went out of his way to reason or more like threaten other agencies who were more than willing to take her in as a new pro hero. He was so so selfish to let her go and he was desperate to have her by his side.

He even purposely pairs himself with her during missions so he could protect and watch over her. He had given subtle clues that he likes her but apparently his little baby bird wasn't smart in the love department . But he was patient. But the moment people started making rumors about her and That other New Hero Named Deku claiming that they would become a really ' cute ' hero couple if they ended up dating. He was more than furious. Dammit he wanted everyone to Know that His baby bird is Exclusively His. Only His.

So he devised a plan and even hired a photographer to take a picture of them ' in the act' and hired an editor to write something about it and spread it everywhere on the internet to cause a media wild fire that y/n and hawks are dating.

And everything was going according to plan. He knew y/n would come to his office to complain about this and convince him to deny it, he knew she'd be fuming in anger , he knew she was here the moment she stepped inside the building and all that's left is to face the press with his 'announcement' that is sure to surprise everyone including y/n.

________________ The Press Meeting.

" So is it true that you and Pro Hero Hawks are dating H/n? " A reported asked y/n to which she shook her head to.

" What is Taking Hawks so long? " She grumbled , the room was flooded with cameramen and reported and the flashes of camera light was starting to get to her.

And on Cue the winged Hero arrived in the room looking as smig as ever.

" It's Hawks! Make sure to catch this on Camera! " The reporter yelled and so on the area was Flooded with questions left and right and Hawks seemed to be unbothered by it.

" Hawks! End this already " Y/n yelled at Hawks who grinned at her playfully.

" You're so Impatient Baby bird " He muttered making the girl glare at him.

" Don't call me that " She grumbled but Hawks ignored her. Instead he picked up the Microphone and started tapping on it.

" Testing, Testing ok it's working. Can you all please be quiet and I'll answer your question" Hawks announced and slowly the room faded into silence and once everything has quieted down Hawks cleared his throat the microphone still in his hand.

" Ok, I know it caused a Dramatic Mishap to Ensue the Moment everyone saw the article and I would like to clear some things out regarding that Love Scandal... Me and H/n are Not dating! I repeat NOT Dating! " Hawks stated loud and clear through the microphone.

Y/n sighed thinking that it was finally the end but No. Hawks had other plans.

" We're not Dating Cause She's My Fucking Wife! " Hawks announced and everyone was silent.

Y/n was frozen in place unable to think clearly and her expression showed it all. Hawks had a victorious grin on his face, the whole crowd of reporters and camera men were quiet and it took them 5 seconds to actually let that information Sink in.

" WHAT!? " Y/n exploded and she rose up from her seat and soon the reporters started shooting different questions their way .

" Hawks what the actual fuck!? Is this a Prank!? ---" Y/n was caught off guard when Hawks scooped her off her feet and smashed his lips against hers silencing her in a short yet passionate kiss.

" How's that for a Picture show?! " Hawks yelled to the reporters before finally flying away from the commotion holding his baby bird in his hands who was now by the way. Fuming with anger once again.

________________

Y/n was furious and when she's furious she gets violent and she started thrashing around forcing Hawks to land on the rooftop on a random building.

" Hawks! What the fuck was that!? Ugh! Why'd you do that!? Was that some sick Joke!?" She growled as she shot Hawks one of her menacing glares to which he wasn't affected to.

" Maybe it is... Maybe it isn't " Hawks answered the smirk on his face seemed to be permanent when he's with her.

" Dammit! You Fucking Asshole!. Shit! How the Fuck am I gonna clear this up now!? I should have gone to Fatgum's agency instead! You know what!? I'm going to request a transfer! Fatgum is way nicer anyways---" She was cut off when Hawks had swept his feet under hers thus knocking her on the ground. With a Yelp her back was slammed on the ground with Hawks hovering above her.

" Say that to me again Baby Bird and I swear.... Even if I have to .... I'll Destroy Fat Gum's agency into a pile of debris... Don't Temp me... I will do it.... You have no idea how long I've been trying to get you to notice me and my feelings... Yet you always seemed to bullshit it away every Fucking time! " Hawks yelled letting all of his emotions get the best of him.

And for the first time. Y/n saw Hawks at his Most Vulnerable state. Not the calm and collected Hawks who never seemed to break. Right now was a man who experienced hundreds of rejections from one girl... Y/n.

How could she be so blind? Now that she thinks back to the past she did remember every sweet and romantic thing Hawks did for her and how he asked her out on daily basis to which she thought was just a flirtatious joke. She was both dense and stupid when it came to love and she didn't notice that the man whom she had fallen for actually loved her back.

Hawks always kept his composure but today she's seeing none of it... Just Hawks. Not the Pro Hero Hawks... Just Hawks.

He was always joking when he's around her that she brushes off every flirtatious comment from him to be a joke too. But now that everything had come to light. It was undeniably obvious.

"... You really hate me that much? " Hawks voice was so soft and timid, it almost didn't sound like him at all.

Y/n was surprised at his sudden comment that she was pulled back to reality her eyes meeting with his but to her shock. She saw the eyes of a hurt and broken man .

Guilt overtook her . She loved him but she always pushed her feelings aside having the fear of being rejected because Hawks is incredible in every way and y/n...is y/n.

Her eyes widened when a single teardrop fell on her cheek and that tear came from Hawks who was trying his hardest to keep his shit together. How can you have this powerful affect on him? It's driving him Nuts. Does he have to kidnap her so she'd stay with him? Does he have to fake her death and keep her all to himself? He was close to that breaking point but that psychotic thought was immediately thrown to the side and forgotten when y/n had reached over to cup his cheeks and brought his face down inches from hers only to scoop his lips in her own for a long, passionate and loving kiss.

Hawks was unable to respond at first because. It was surreal. Y/n was finally accepting him! He felt her slowly pull back but he was having none of it! He waited so long for this moment!.

Pushing his lips down to hers he indulged himself in the sweet taste of y/n's lips, opening her mouth slightly she granted him entrance inside her wet cavern where his tongue explored every inch and claiming it as his own. Their lips danced in sync in a steady and passionate movement.

Once the two pulled away his eyes pierced hers as if asking if she meant it to which y/n replied with a laugh.

" Hawks you dumbass you didn't have to make a scene like that... I love you too honestly... From the start... I was scared to tell you... I didn't want to get rejected " She answered honestly making the man frown.

" Chickadee I'd be the biggest fool alive if I'd reject you.. And that show earlier was necessary.... Everyone needs to know that the beautiful pro hero h/n is Mine... My Baby Bird " Hawks muttered kissing her cheek.

" I love you, you annoying bird man " She chuckled attempting to push him off.

" Whatever you little brat... I love you too and don't push me away... I'm touch starved by you, It's your fault so take responsibility" Hawks grumbled making the girl laugh.

" But we're on a rooftop! " She protested but Hawks only rolled his eyes cuddling right next to his y/n.

" Don't be so picky. If you keep this up we might end up in my bedroom--"

" Hawks! "

[cheryls-blossomed]

Just to let you know this won't be the last irisco scenes this season carlos is coming back for the 150th episode and the finale. So that's probably when you'll get your proper goodbye from iris and cisco and I can't wait to see his reaction when he sees nora again and also meeting bart .... those are the type of things I'm looking forward to. I actually enjoyed this episode just as a fan and not someone to pick apart everything but just watch it as a viewer and see how happy carlos was filming this made me enjoy it even more. Could it have been way better absolutely but I already went into this episode with the intent of it being a otf type of episode and who wrote the episode so my mind already knew what this would mostly turn out to be. Now this episode is out the way I'm really ready for the ball to start rolling with these stories and storylines. Was it perfect absolutely not was it my favorite nope but I can say I enjoyed it. To those fans that I see that think Iris is being pushed out the show to me I call BS also from what carlos has mentioned in his interviews he sees that eric is very accommodating to his actors and makes sure they are good not just about their character but them as a person he tries to help them and work with them the best he can and to me that's a good showrunner. Eric has a long way to go when it comes to fixing stuff in the writers room but I will say he's made that set a better place to feel comfortable and work at. Also CP was talking about her experiences with that network which I think eric has tried to do what he can and what he's allowed to do for his actors wellbeing. As for Westallen as we seen in 7x11 when GG and CP are given great material they can really work with it and even when they don't they do their best. Now the Joe and Iris scene I couldn't tell you why it was cut ... timing .... or did they feel it wasn't needed if iris was literally having that same type of convo with kamilia so they choose that one we may never really know so I tend to not worry about those things but I get why some fans would be mad about that especially how it seems to always happen to iris getting her scenes cut but it is what it is I'm not going to keep harping over spoiled milk. I enjoy your blog so much cause it gives us fans a safe space no matter if we agree or not so thank you for that. Here's to hoping the season turns out better for you and the fans that aren't enjoying it right now. I'm more of positive optimistic type of person so I tend to see the positive side of things especially for my mental health. Anyways I don't want to take up to much of your time sorry for this long ass post I'll try to keep it short next time!

No need to apologize, nonnie! I appreciate you sharing all your thoughts. I'm glad that you enjoy this blog, and I'm also glad that we can healthily disagree at times, because I think that's important. And optimism is honestly a very good thing in this life.

I definitely don't think Iris/Candice is being pushed out of the show. There's nothing to suggest that from this season, and I’m not sure why anyone would think this. 

Oh yeah, I mean, I don't really have much hope for meaningful Iris/Cisco scenes, but a small goodbye in the finale would be nice. And I'm glad that Cisco will get to meet Bart and Nora.

Re the Iris/Joe scene: I think it's pretty clear with the benefit of hindsight that that moment was one showcasing Iris's POV about why she was struggling to hire a new photojournalist and that Joe was helping her work through her feelings about Kamilla leaving. It was hopefully a moment of vulnerability, and it wasn't going to be the same moment as the Iris/Kamilla scene, because it was supposed to be Iris working through what she was originally struggling with in the KamIris scene. I would have felt better if Iris and Kamilla got another scene for the sake of closure, where we got to see them have this really supportive, sweet moment, but they did not get that. Part of it is that the show really didn't care about Kamilla at all in the episode and didn't give her any proper sendoff. Additionally, there's the continued fact that Iris scenes are used for promo, but her scenes seem to be the first to end up on the cutting room floor, especially important character-building moments for her, often times shared with her family (her father, her husband, and her daughter). They very well could have cut something else to include the Iris/Joe scene, but they deliberately chose to cut this scene. 

Anyways, with regards to Eric, I don't really agree with his stylistic choices as showrunner, and I am somewhat frustrated as a fan by his... apparent lying about story-lines, therefore indicating that he knows what the people want, but he chooses not to focus on what the people want, but it's clear he's a good boss when it comes to the cast and that he's made the set safer and is the first showrunner who has really listened to Candice and addressed her concerns. I think to a degree we have to separate who Eric is as a boss and our own concerns and grievances with regards to story-telling as fans (which are certainly very valid and reflect upon him as showrunner, but are separate from what he’s done to make the work place environment better).

[lovingthereign25]

Never say Goodbye

Part 7

Baby, I got to go Jules  is here crying" I lie 

"Okay Mama I love you call you later" Derek says

" I love you too," I say hanging up.

"What're you doing here?' I say

"Y/n, it's Lyndsey, she in the hospital" Joe says

"What?, Why? " I panic

"I'll explain on the way, grab your things I'll grab Noah.

Joe explain the Lyndsey passed out at work and hit her head pretty bad

"When Josh called me you automatically came to my mind, you two are closer than anything" he says placing his hand on yours.

"Thank you, I appreciate you coming to get me and Noah" I say

When I  arrived at the hospital, I was greeted by Josh and my parents telling you Lyndsey was stable but couldn't remember much and was asking for me.

"Joe can you please sit with Noah" I ask 

"Of course" he smiles, taking Noah from me.

After I saw Lyndsey, I stepped out to call Derek noticing I had a missed call from him.

"Yea Y/n, how's Lyndsey?" He asks

"She's…..wait how'd you know? I ask confused

"When you didn't answer, I called Julianna and it turns out she was at the hospital already waiting to get in touch with you, so my question is where were you?" He asks

"I was at the hotel on the phone with my husband, they sent Joe to pick Noah and I up" I say

"Yea of course, Joe ...is this always gonna be a thing Y/n?" He asks

"What? I ask

"This you and Joe shit, I thought when we got together you were over him, he was past was the past and we were the future, but now it seems there's situation with you and Joe" he says annoyed

"Derek, there is no me and Joe, we are friends, that's it and that's all" I say 

"I gotta go, the team is waiting for me" Derek says hanging up not even saying " I love you" .

*A few weeks later* 

I was sitting at home planning Noah's first birthday while he was napping when I heard our  front door open. 

"Hey," Derek says walking into the dining room where I was sitting.

"Hi," I reply looking back to the laptop screen of party supplies.

"Where's little man?" He asks

"Napping finally, his back teeth are coming in pretty bad" I say

"Damn poor kid" he says, grabbing water from the kitchen.

After a few minutes of being silent, which was nothing new in the last couple of weeks ever since Joe brought you to the hospital to see Lyndsey.

"You working?" He asked

"No, just planning Noah's party" I smile

"Without me?" He asks

"It's not official just themes he would like, places, and guest list" I explain

"I was joking Y/n, so what're we looking at here" he says sitting beside me

"Well he's into Mickey Mouse and…"  I was cut off by Derek's phone ringing

"Hold that thought"  he says looking at his phone and leaving the room.

Later that night I just finished putting Noah to bed. I went into our bedroom, Derek was on his laptop.

''Don't forget to send you mom her ticket for the he plane ride to Florida for Easter" I remind him

"Shit, I completely forgot, there's a big case in Colorado we're we wanted for,  I leave tomorrow." He sighs

"What? Derek you just got home a few hours ago." I say

"I know baby, but it's part of the job" he says 

"Fine I'll send her the ticket information, will you at least be here for Easter ?" I ask

"Can't promise anything," he says closing his laptop.

Easter had come and gone, Derek of course was still away now on a new case, spending a few extra days in  Florida I ran into an old friend  who wanted me to design her wedding dress and bridesmaids dresses. Of course I accepted, she also told me about a small boutique her fiance's mom was selling.

" I immediately thought of you, and how incredible it would be for to to be able to sell your designs, Y/n you're so talented everyone should see it " she smiles

"Awe, thanks Trish I'll definitely think about it, this would be a dream come true for me to have my own shop" I smile

When I arrive back home Derek is already home, he takes Noah as I grab our bags bringing them into the house.

"How was the case?' I ask

"Exhausting, miss my boy" he smiles at Noah"

"Oh, yea thanks, I missed you too" I joke

"Like you didn't have a good ole time in Florida, I'm sure Joe was around" he says

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?' I ask

"Nothing forget it" he says 

" Derek, how long are you gonna keep throwing what I did with Joe up in my face, I've apologized countless times, I don't know what else to do'' I say

" Make a decision our family or Joe" he says

"You're not serious, Derek that's crazy" I laugh 

"I am serious Y/n, Noah and I or Joe" he say again

"Derek, you and Noah are my life, there's nothing between Joe and I, he's  my past like your exes are your past" I say stepping closer to him

"Good, whatta say we go out to eat, just the two of us, I'll see if moms can keep Noah" he smiles kissing my head

All I did was not, trying to register how in the hell I was gonna cut all ties to Joe.

At dinner I tell Derek about running into Trish, about her wedding and the shop.

"Congratulations sweetheart, but how are you gonna run a shop in Florida from Virginia" he asks

" That's the problem, I'll to be in Florida until I get the shop fully staffed and running properly" I say

Just as Derek is about to speak I get a awful pains in my abdomen hitching over in pain

"Y/n, are you okay?Baby Girl talk to me"  Derek says but I can't answer the pain is too unbearable. 

Next thing I know I wake up in the hospital. 

Derek and I lost our baby.

*October 2016*

Noah's birthday was emotional, and wonderful. Derek's sister Desiree, Lyndsey and I planned the most amazing sesame street birthday party. 

All of my family and Derek's family came to celebrate our favorite boy. 

I had rented a house in Tampa, so I can be close to the shop and my family. Derek flies down as often as he can. The shop is coming along great, I hired a few girls to help run the shop, and Lyndsey is  the manager.  I was setting up a manikin with a gorgeous sun dress I had recently designed when I heard a tap on the window.

I look up seeing Joe.

"Hey stranger how's it going?'' he smiles

"Hi, yeah sorry been a little distracted" I smile.

I know what you're thinking, but I couldn't do it, I couldn't cut all ties with Joe he meant to much to me, and after talking to Lyndsey she had suggested that I tell Derek what he wants to hear and pretend to cut all ties with Joe but really I would be discreet about still being friends with him.

"I see that, the shop is coming along nice, oh by the way this is for my buddy Noah, sorry I missed the party" he smiles handing me a gift bag.

"Joe you didn't have to" I say

"I wanted too" he says 

"Thank you" I smile 

"Hey," Joe says grabbing my hand." Sorry to hear about the baby, if you need anything I'm here,"

"Thank you, that means a lot," I say .

"Oh, before I go I'll have Jojo this weekend, she's been bugging me to see Noah..maybe we can set something up?' he asks

"Yeah of course, I'll call you" I say .

*March 2017* 

The shop was getting more business that I could ever imagine, I was originally supposed to give up the rental house a few months ago but with the business I had to postpone that plan, Derek helps when he can, which hasn't been very often so I left Lyndsey in charge of the shop and Noah and I headed to Virginia to see Derek. 

"Y/n, what brings  you here?" Erin Derek's boss asks as I enter the office with Noah.

"Hi, Erin, just came to surprise Derek" I smile 

"He got so big, looks just like you and Derek, and he's in his office" she smiles 

I knock on Derek's door.

"Come in" I hear him say

As I enter in, I see Derek at his desk and a blonde woman sitting in a chair in front of his desk.

"Sorry I didn't know you were busy we can wait" I say

"No Y/n, it's fine we were just finishing up paperwork on a case come in… and this Nina she's a new team member here."  He says

"Hi" I greet her

"Nina this is my wife Y/n, and our son Noah" he smiles picking up Noah

"Hi, Derek he's adorable!'' she smiles

Derek takes Noah and I for lunch 

"So how'd you like Nina?" He asks

"She's nice" I say cutting Noah's food

"Glad you like her, she's my new partner" he says

"Wait what about Kevin?'' I ask

"He's out on leave, and with no given date on his return I asked for Nina" he says

"Hold on, you asked for her?, And why was that?" I ask 

"She's a great cop, she basically ran a whole unit in Colorado" he shrugs

"Reassign her'' I say

"What? Y/n are you crazy?" He snaps

"No, I'm not crazy. I saw the way she looked at you Derek" I say

"Y/n, come on you're being ridiculous" he says

"Are you sleeping with her?" I ask

"What? Y/n this is nuts!" He says

"Answer me, there was a big case in Colorado was there?, You went to meet her, are you sleeping with her Derek" I almost yell

"Y/n, I think we need to discuss this his at home" he says .

"No, Derek I don't we do..I think I just got my answer" I say grabbing Noah and walking out of the restaurant.

[vanchlo]

The Partner / Chapter Twelve, "The Resolute"

Word Count: 8.4k /  Story Masterlist /  Read The Assistant /  Read on Wattpad / Song: Hold Me While You Wait by Lewis Capaldi (click to listen) / Warning: Sensitive and upsetting topics, such as death, grief, and miscarriage

"I never know when I will miss you. I can't ever predict just what will grip my heart with the reminder that you are gone. It could be anything. Anytime. Anywhere. You are everywhere and nowhere all at once. When the days are bright, I am blinded by your presence and even when the world is dark I still manage to find you. In laughter, I hear the echo of losing you. Your presence is overflowing in the tears that fall. Now that your body is gone, everything holds your being. I miss you in the cold depths of winter and I long for you in the thick summer breeze. You are my first rising thought in the morning and my last notion as I sink into the heaviness of the night. I thought we ran out of moments together, but every moment seems to belong to you. How can you be everywhere when you are nowhere to be seen? I used to worry about facing the world because I didn't know what would trigger my heartache. I used to be afraid of every feeling, every memory, every moment because I didn't know which ones held you. Now I know you are everywhere and I think that I know why. You're everywhere because you're somewhere inside of who I am. I am the bearer of your life and your memory. I am the keeper of your existence. Even though you're gone, I never really have to search for you. I never know where I'll find you but you are always there. I never know when I will miss you and it happens all the time"

- Rachel Whalen

I had lost count of how many times I had fallen back asleep since he had left for another day of work, the second time in the last few days. I’d be telling a lie if I said that I didn’t miss him, because like he’d confessed when he thought I was sleeping, I missed him all of the time too. The difference was that I felt it now when he was gone. I wasn’t sure why I’d bitten his head off that night about going back to work. I did but couldn’t think about it after the way he broke down in front of me and I just stood there. I didn’t do a thing. Instead, I shook my head and pushed him away. God, how could I do that to him? I thought he’d moved on . . . That’s how it went. I’d wake up to an empty, cold bed and the guilt would come in crashing waves. The hot tears would follow and eventually, I’d fall back into another fitful sleep. Nightmares were almost always guaranteed, but for the first time in our relationship, I comforted myself back to sleep. Somehow, they didn’t wake him like before, but last night when he woke with a gasp that melted into tears, I think I knew because he was busy with his own.

At first, I thought I’d been imagining it, or maybe that was just my coping mechanism by now. Denial and pretending. No, it really was and it went around like a circle. Denying the denial. But when the knocking on the door turned into the dinging of the doorbell, I knew that it was real. It didn’t stop after a few times, like the mailman would. No, this person was persistent, and I definitely was not. I couldn’t even find the strength to move to look at the alarm clock to see the time. By then, it had stopped. He’d only been gone an hour now and I missed him deeply, finding it hard to not pick up the phone to ask him to come home. I did but in my own way, and not one he’d understand, despite how he knew every page of my book.

I hope work is going well

Only a few minutes passed before a reply came in with a silent vibration.

thanks it is, just meetings again and an interview

Sounds boring. I know how you hate both. New hire?

possibly. i forgot to tell u gwen left. i hope ur getting some rest

No, you hadn’t but that’s ok. I think I only talked to her like 5 times. I’m trying.

ya she was good, just kept 2 herself. want me 2 pick up anything for lunch? anything soundin good? Starbucks? pizza? u can have whatever u want

You can pick

At that, I heard my phone lock before placing it face down onto the bedside table, not able to continue a conversation about food any longer. Another wave of irrational tears came at missing him and wanting normalcy back, but the fitful sleep didn’t follow. I wasn’t sure if I was regretful or not when I peeled back the covers, shocked by the sudden cold.

The chilling silence filling the house hit me in the face when I stepped out into the hallway. It had been choking at times, mostly at night when things were at their worst. During the day, like now, it was never this quiet. Something on the tv was always playing, and I soon found myself in front of it, watching the end of a Marvel movie Harry and I once watched.

Its sequel was nearing the halfway point by the time the doorbell rang again. It was on its fourth time now and the person still hadn’t stopped. The surprise on their face was just as strong as that of mine when I found myself at the door, in front of Harry’s grandmother.

“Hi, Becky,” she said softly, a warm cadence to her words like always. I may have been biased towards grandmas, but Harry’s checked all of the points and more. I couldn’t help the squeeze of my heart at the mere sight of her, a melancholy smile spreading on her lips.

“Claire. Um, hi. Harry isn’t here right now, he had to go into work this morning,” I rush, unsure of why I’m telling her this, except for I know why. I hadn’t spoken to another human being that wasn’t Harry or my doctor since . . since it had happened. Sure, texts to Skye, my dad, and Robbie. It was the only way to placate them from telling them I didn’t want to see them. Can I blame them, though?

“Oh, that’s okay. I was uh, hoping I could come in,” she suggests. I stand there, taken aback by her request. I had come to love this woman like she was my own grandmother, and yet here I am, not opening the door for her. “Maybe we could wait for him together with some brookies.”

Dropping my eyes, I watch as she lifts a saran wrapped plate of chocolatey looking cookies. I didn’t need to look any longer to know what they were. Her famous brownie cookies that Harry had compared any cookie or brownie of mine to over the years, and I eventually had found out why.

“You know I can’t turn those down,” I mumble, feeling the first hints of a smile. She grins for me instead, following me into the house that somehow feels even emptier when we step inside. Awkwardly, I closed the door behind her, pulling my hands back into the oversized King’s College crewneck of Harry’s I’d stolen long ago. “Can I . . Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Water? Tea?” I stumble, watching as she takes a seat at the island, setting down one of those cloth bags beside her.

“Coffee would be fine, honey,” she says, and always with a smile. I welcome the distraction, feeling as if I’d forgotten how to talk to another person. No, I know that I have. I hadn’t even been able to carry on a conversation with Harry, nonetheless his grandmother.

At times, I still felt uncomfortable around his parents, especially his dad. If there was one of them that I felt the easiest around, it was Claire. I’m reminded of the bouquet of black eyed susans probably now wilting on the table when she notes the array of flowers taking up space over there. I nod at her words while closing the lid of the instant coffee machine, placing a tall mug underneath the spout. The compassionate words scribbled in her cursive with its accompanying card come back to me, and suddenly, the steaming coffee grows blurry before my eyes. Sometimes, I wondered if she had a feeling about things like me, because as the first tear fell, she speaks an apology.

“I’m sorry for coming unannounced. I had let Harry know I was in town and would stop by today, but he must have forgotten to mention it to you,” she begins in a low volume, a Harry-like molasses shining in her voice. I mumble an ‘it’s okay’ while watching the coffee continue to fill the mug. It’s almost done, but then what will I do to distract myself? “Harry had said your fridge was quite full, but I couldn’t help but make a few of your favorites to bring you both. Times like these, cooking feels like the last thing you want to do.”

“A lot of things do,” I find myself saying, surprising her I’m sure and especially myself. I hadn’t even been able to find it in myself to put that feeling into words and say them to Harry. It was a blessing and a curse how we could read each other so well, but I know I’d closed myself off from him a long time ago. On accident and then, on purpose.

Ripples form across the surface of the liquid as the last few drops plummet into the dark abyss. I wait, staring at the steam rising from the mug, unsure as to why. A silence had embedded itself into these walls so long ago I couldn’t remember, and it sat between us now too. I still didn’t know how to broach it, and there was no nudging the switch that would let me talk about her. I truly didn’t know how to, not even to her father. Sometimes, I wanted to forget her so I’d stop hurting, but that felt like an impossibility and then a crime. Gulping, I wipe at my cheeks and thread my fingers through the ceramic handle.

“Those are a beautiful assortment of flowers,” she comments again when I set the drink down in front of her. A forced ‘thank you’ leaves my lips when I turn around and walk towards the fridge. “You and Harry are so loved, and so was your baby.”

I’d opened this fridge how many times over the years, and now as the handle sits in my palm, I can’t find it in myself to do it. The forgotten coupons, lists, photographs, drawings from Harper and Ollie, and magnets grew hazy before my eyes. The hum of the coffee machine cooling down wasn’t enough to mask the whimper that escaped my lips, no matter how desperately I tried to shove it down. After breathing in and out a few times, it still didn’t help, but I was able to open the door and grab what I’d needed.

Keeping my head down, I set the coffee creamer in front of her, not spending a second more facing her with the damage on my cheeks. As the spoon clinks against the sides of her mug, I distract myself by finding room in the fridge for the filled tupperware containers she’d taken from the bag. Scribbled labels adorn the top of each one, but I look past them as I stack them on a shelf. From the corner of my eye, I saw her stand from her seat to look at the flowers, thumbing at the typed messages. It’s not until the last one is snug against a container of yogurt and strawberries that somebody says something.

“They always say the same things, don’t they?” she murmurs with an out of place scoff, sounding like a hum from her lips. The tears had dried up as I thought about how to fit a container of beef stroganoff amongst tater tot casserole, but when I turned around, her face still falls. “It was the same with Steven too. They all say that they understand, but there’s no way that they can. They hadn’t lost their spouse, or . . their baby.” This roots me to the spot and we spend the next few moments looking at each other as her Soft Rose lipsticked lips fall.

“I didn’t want to come, Becky, because I know that when I lost my loves, I wanted to be alone. But that was where my demons lied in wait, and I don’t want you to go through the same thing I did when I lost my baby,” she continues. I couldn’t tell if it was the light or the way my eyes deceive me with a returning wetness, but a similar glint appears in hers. It holds my attention for a mere moment until my heart starts to pound against my ribs. “Steven and I were a little younger than you and Harry when we lost our baby at four months.”

There could be no saving my throat nor my eyes as I gulp against the dryness, feeling all of the wetness detour down my face. Her words ricochet inside of me, bouncing off walls. For the first time in too long, they sink in and make me feel something. I resist at first, not wanting to let my chest shake or my heart race, but there’s no stopping it. Staring back at her, she quietly sits back down and takes a sip from her coffee. Looking back to me, a corner of her mouth twitches as a gleaming droplet beads at her chin.

“What has it been now? Fifty five years and I still miss them . . my little baby,” the blood pounds in my ears as I stare at her in what, amazement? Horror? Complete and utter surprise? Probably, all of them.

“Gran, I-I never knew,” a voice says from behind me. Turning, another wave of shock courses through me at the sight of Harry with his hand on the door to the garage.

“I never told anybody, except for my immediate family when it had happened . . The thing was, the taboo around miscarriages and infertility hasn’t changed a whole lot since then. It disappoints me really . . Back then, you didn’t talk about it. Now, sometimes you talk about it, but it’s just the same. It’s near to impossible to speak about. Friends and family want to say something, but they don’t know how to without hurting you. So, instead of mentioning the loved one you lost, people don’t when they think of them, and they’re forgotten. That’s always been my worst fear, and I don’t want either of you to go through that- I cried when your mother told me what had happened, Harry. My heart breaks for the both of you, knowing that you’re going through the same nightmare that my Steven and I did.”

A puff leaves his lips and I can almost hear him gulp as sound evades us. Words haven’t been a friend to my lips in what feels like months, and right now isn’t an exception.

“I’m so sorry, Gran.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Harry. I’m so sorry that you lost your baby . . I heard it was a girl, your daughter,” her words are ginger and slow. Somehow, another piece joins the puzzle, but it still leaves me staring at the floor as tidal waves crash inside of me. “It was a long time ago, but I still miss them and wonder who they’d be. I’m sorry to say that never goes away, and that the whole b-s of ‘time heals all wounds’ isn’t entirely true. You just build up scar tissue to it, but some days are worse than others. I miss Steven terribly some days, like the day you announced your engagement, and your pregnancy. When your mother told me over the phone three weeks ago, I wished he could’ve been there too, for you to talk to about fathers losing a child. Men are still pressured to not show emotions but it was just as hard on him to lose our baby, and sometimes fathers are forgotten.”

A mess of emotions roils inside of me, flipping my stomach upside down. My heart too, arguably. The last sound that I make out is a sniffle of his before I’m bringing my hands to my eyes, and sobbing against them. It felt like I stood there for minutes before escaping down the hall, when it was only a few seconds in reality.

I wasn’t certain if they knew what I did. That I could hear them from the bedroom down the hall, the place I’d come to retreat to instead of Harry’s arms. I felt him coming towards me just moments ago, but I couldn’t do it. I think I’d almost forgotten what his touch felt like. If they thought I could hear them, they probably had mistaken me for being asleep or for not listening. I think they tried to keep their voices down, but despite Harry being a closet musician, there wasn’t much for treatment to these walls. He’d joked before about having sex one night his mom stayed here but I pushed him away, chalking it up to thin walls.

Now, the memory wasn’t that funny to me as I heard their conversation. I almost felt guilty, as if I was cheating by hearing them, but this was the only way I could take part in a conversation I know I should be part of. I didn’t think that I could even speak if I had wanted to, because of the hiccuped sobs that filled my chest, making it hard to speak. I know that I made the right decision when my head rests against the door upon hearing about what they say next, about me.

“I can hardly get her to have a conversation with me, Gran. Let alone about . . about the baby.”

“Oh, Harry. You just have to give her time.”

“I know and I have, but it’s becoming all the harder to feel as time passes. She’s getting worse and I’m barely staying put together. It scares me so much, because I don’t want to lose her too. If I did, I’d lose everything I have to live for.”

At last, the sound of my choked sobs drowned out that of their voices. By the time my lungs calmed down and my heart hardened once more, it was quiet. I missed his voice despite how it had almost betrayed me to another, and made me hurt. My rumbling stomach ultimately won the race and it was what led me down the hall, and without knowing, back to her. I blamed it on the appetizing smell wafting from the kitchen.

I’d already seen her and had decided to keep going, but upon passing the island where she sat again, I heard her intake of breath. Harry wasn’t anywhere to be seen, despite the wiped clean plate in the sink with the large fork and an empty can. He was the only one who used them and who drank the sparkling waters that I thought tasted like bug spray.

“I’m so sorry, Becky. The last thing I wanted was to upset you, honey.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Frankly, I’m rather tired of people saying those two words, but thank you,” I return, a steadiness arriving in my voice that I didn’t know I’d missed. “Can I-?”

“Of course, it’s all yours,” she insists with a smile. Nodding, I pick up the serving spoon and a plate, feeling my stomach grow happy at the sight and smell of her famous homemade lasagna. “There’s garlic bread in the oven and salad in the fridge. I’m just going to use the little girl’s room.”

I almost smile, realizing that I’ve missed her and just maybe, I feel okay enough to talk about it. I’d found a seat at the island beside her empty cup of coffee, already digging into the lasagna. An almost embarrassing moan left my lips at the taste of the layers of cheese, pasta, and bolognese sauce.

“Leave it to Claire to find the way to your heart,” somebody comments. Turning, I find Harry walking towards me with a tilt to his lips. He unrolls the hem of a Queen Bohemian Rhapsody shirt, looking more like himself now that he’s out of a suit. Sometimes, I still catch myself thinking that it was always the opposite, seeing how I’d know him to always be in suits for so long.

To my surprise, I don’t flinch or pull back when his hand arrives on my shoulder as I wipe my mouth with a napkin.

“You don’t know how happy it makes me to see you eating, and enjoying it . . I’m surprised you haven’t broken into that plate of brookies yet,” he comments. Something happy buds on my lips when his lips sponge a kiss to my temple.

“So am I,” I reply, cutting myself another bite of the food. To my happiness, his arm comes around my shoulder and stays there. I welcome it and feel a warmth grow in my gut upon finding the courage to meet his eyes. They hold something that I learn to be mischief when he plucks one of the cookies off the plate. “Hey, save some for me.”

“Don’t worry, they’re all yours. Well, except a few for me. Maybe we could split them down the middle. Half for me and half for you,” he suggests with a cocky shrug to his broad shoulders. It surprises us both when my lips spill a few second giggle. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed that sound.”

“I’ve missed you,” it’s but a squeak and still, I know he hears it by the sad curl of his lips. “I’m going to try.”

“Thank you, my lovebug. That’s all I can ask for,” he smiles, stealing a quick peck from my lips. It catches me off guard and I find myself staring at him while he manages to take a bite that’s half of the cookie. He winks at me and I turn away, shoveling a large bite of cheesy pasta past my lips.

Another bite had donned my fork by the time Claire found her seat beside us. I’d made a dent in my garlic bread by now as Harry worked on his second cookie.

Swallowing, I loaded my fork with a scrap of melted cheese and bolognese sauce. “Claire. How . . How did you do it? Be okay again after losing your baby? It . . It feels impossible,” the words seem to come from nowhere at first.

After a few moments, I know where they stem from, and just how much importance they hold. It looks back at me in Harry’s eyes when I peer up at him, smiling back when he thumbs away a tear below my eye. As her response hits our ears, I reach my arm out and across his back, holding tightly onto his side. I didn’t let go once as we cried together with his grandma about our lost babies, and neither did he.

I went to bed with a hope in my heart, thinking that tomorrow would be different. Alas, I woke up to an empty bed and it wasn’t. I wasn’t surprised but sure, I was let down. I knew that somebody else would be much more disappointed than I was, if that were possible.

It wasn’t long after my waking realization that there was a knock on the door anda creak, “Hey, buggie. I’m making french toast. How many pieces do you want?” The rest of the night had been uneventful, for once. His grandma stayed for another hour or two as we ate cookies and I finally talked about it. Her. Now, lying with my back to Harry, I didn’t know how to do that again. To talk. “Wakey wakey, it’s nearly noon.”

His voice was closer now as his hands settled on my shoulders from behind. The feeling of his thumbs kneading the tissue made me want to let him drive away the intrusive thoughts. To let him win, but I didn’t know how. Yesterday had seemed like a fluke, as I looked back on it. Even if he was her father, how could I explain to him the hollowness that had filled me when I remembered that my child had died inside of me? No, that wasn’t something he could understand, nor could he hear how much I wished he had been there that morning. That the fact he wasn’t there had changed everything. I couldn’t tell him that and I never wanted to, but I’d gotten close. At the times his nagging and hovering drove me up the wall, my tongue itched to deal the worst blows just to get him off my back. I knew it was wrong, so much of it was but I didn’t know how to stop. All I knew how to do was to drown myself in my regret afterwards. Sometimes, I was mad that we couldn’t keep alcohol around, but at others, I was glad for it.

His molasses voice murmurs my name once more, another time that I ignore, until I can’t. “No thanks.”

“I can bring it in here for you. There’s bacon and strawberries too. Orange juice, as well.”

Shaking my head, I bury my face deeper into the pillow, finding that it has his smell. At one time, he had been my safety blanket, but now it was his smell that could calm me down. I wanted to feel guilty about it but I didn’t have the energy to feel guilt because of anything else as it was all focused on one thing.

“I’ll have a little bit,” I surrender, listening to his hopeful response before leaving. For once, he let me eat alone in the bedroom. But he still inspected my plate, and I could tell that he was biting back a remark as he read the paper at the island.

“Can we talk?”

“What about?” I replied, bending over to place my dishes in the dishwasher. Standing back up, I fail at readying myself for his next onslaught of questions. The ones that I can’t answer.

“You know . . About Phoebe,” he answers. I hear it, the way he has to shove the words past his lips in order to get them out. I only know because I’ve done it a thousand times, and often with him. You do it when it’s too hard to say, but you know that it has to be done regardless.

“What’s there to talk about?”

“Becks,” he sighs, annoyance clear in his voice. “I thought you said that you were going to try. Last night went so well and you did great, I-.”

“I just can’t do it today. Okay, Harry?” I retort tearfully, catching the sagging of his features when I lock eyes with him. Sighing, I forget the cookie I’d picked up, placing the saran wrap back over it.

“So what, we need to schedule a fricken time to talk about it?”

I’d begun my retreat, but I wasn’t far enough yet. No, if I was in earshot of Harry, it wasn’t over yet. It had always been that way, ever since the beginning.

“Harry, please,” my words start, decorated with tears that drag my words underwater.

“We got pregnant and we . . we had a miscarriage, Becks. It’s nearly been a month now, but what comes next? When do we get back to normal?”

I hadn’t even been facing him and the words felt like a slap in the face. The look on mine must have felt similar to him, because when I turn around to look at him through blurry eyes, he melts into a puddle of regret.

“I didn’t mean it that way, Becks. Not-.”

“Not what way, Harry? That we should just forget about it and move on with our lives? God, you’re sounding like the doctor the other day who said that we can start trying again whenever we want. But I don’t want to try again yet, Harry, because I’m too scared that we’d lose another one- I mean, what if I can’t have kids? And- I don’t want to forget her or replace her,” but he didn’t hear the last part and I hadn’t decided if I’d wanted him to.

“You don’t know that, Becks, and that’s not what I meant at all. I promise,” he interrupts. The legs of his oversized sweatpants sag down to his ankles when he stands. “I didn’t say we had to get pregnant again right away. I’m fucking scared too. I just mean that I want us to get better. Collectively and on our own. I hate seeing you so upset all of the time, and just want you to be happy. We’re supposed to get married sometime this year and I still don’t know when that’s going to happen. The house is going to be ready in a few months, and I wanted to bring you there one day to look at the progress.”

I had begun to shake my head long before he’d stopped talking. It brought an edge to his words and an annoyance that I didn’t like, despite inciting it. A loud puff passes his lips and he returns to the chair, raking a hand through his hair. That either meant annoyance or boredom, or both. Like I tend to do, I take it personally and figure he’s both annoyed and bored of me, not that it was anything new lately.

“I can’t do that, Harry. I-I can’t,” fumbling with my words, my hand gets caught in my hair as I avoid his eyes. It doesn’t stop him from retorting an inquisitive ‘why not?’ “How am I supposed to go and see the house we’re building that has five extra bedrooms, Harry? How do you expect me to look at the rooms we planned out for o-our kids, and one for . . for Phoebe’s nursery when she’s not coming anymore?”

“Becks,” the nickname leaves his lips like that one breath that’s knocked out of you when you fall. The wrinkles that are rarely there above his eyes return as his eyebrows fall deeply. “I didn’t . . I wasn’t thinking. I’m so sorry.”

“And so am I, but . . I just can’t do that right now, o-or talk about her. I’m sorry,” I say with haste to my words and in my actions. The sad sound from his lips follows me to the couch where I perch, pretending to watch the tv. He doesn’t join me and after a while of pretending, my eyes start to droop.

The image of Shrek and Fiona making animal balloons falls away until a sound wakes me. Time had passed because now Fiona stands in front of Lord Farquad and Shrek is nowhere to be seen.

“I’m going to run an errand. Is there um, anything you need, bug?” he murmurs, the jangling of keys adorning his words.

“No thanks.”

“Okay, I won’t be long- Becks?” he speaks up, clearing his throat at last. I call back a question and wait as he idles. “I really am sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean anything insensitively or to upset you. I’d never want to do that.”

“I know, Harry. It’s okay,” are the last words that pass between us before he bids me a goodbye. I welcome the lack of silence but curl into the couch more, pulling the blanket around me as the movie continues.

My head throbbed when I stood up, but it had been happening a lot lately. I knew it was because I hadn’t been eating much, and as I think about that, my feet lead me to the fridge.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt full after eating, and still wanting a cookie afterwards. Like I do now. Licking the crumbs from my fingers after the last bite, the wooden floor is cold against my bare feet. For a reason I don’t know, I soon am staring up the staircase, and in that direction. It pulls at me to climb the stairs, but something deep down throbs in denial.

Instead, my attention is stolen when my ringtone blares from the couch. I lose my phone half of the time these days and so calls went unanswered. Assuming it was Harry with a grocery question, I picked it up without looking at who it was.

“Hi, Boops.”

“Dad,” I almost sigh, but I was unsure as to why. Was it the bombardment of talking to my dad on the phone for the first time in almost a month? Most likely. Or was it the homesickness that grew in my gut at the sound of his voice. “Daddy.”

“Hi, honey. I was hoping you’d answer. I’ve missed your voice.”

Sinking onto the couch, my bottom lip quivers as I try to breathe in slowly, but my heart won’t listen. It hasn’t for a while now.

“I’ve missed yours, Daddy.”

“Oh, baby girl,” he says in an exhale. Already, I know that he hears what my voice is dipped in, but I don’t hide it. It was too late for that. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

“I’m getting really sick of that word, but thanks, Dad.”

His classical chuckle begins its opening but it falters there, and so did any chance at mine. Silence had rarely been uncomfortable with my Dad. That was only when I’d gotten into trouble or when I was trying to tell him about something that had happened with my Mom, which usually went hand in hand. Over the years, I could hardly count the times silence had grown awkward between us, until it did now.

“What are you doing?” he decides to say, lifting my eyes to the tv screen where it appears Fiona and Farquaad will get their Happily Ever After. I knew without needing to think what would happen next. They wouldn’t, because it never really happens that way. No, it’s not that easy or immediate.

“Watching Shrek on the couch.”

“Is Harry there?” he murmurs a question.

“No, he went to do something not long ago. I don’t know what,” I answer, wrapping the tassels of the blanket around my finger until it hurts. “I think he’s mad at me. I can’t tell anymore, it seems like he always is.”

“I’m sure that’s not true, honey.”

Shaking my head for nobody to see, I taste blood when pressing my lips together to hold back the whimpering. Sniffling, I breathe in raggedly before speaking, “I think it is . . I can’t blame him, because I’ve been so horrible to him, Dad. H-He was supposed to be a Daddy and I’ve forgotten that he’s g-going through all of this too. I’ve been in my own little world being sad a-about the baby, and I forgot about him, Dad. I’m supposed to marry him soon, and I don’t even wear my ring anymore, and I can’t go upstairs, and-,” he doesn’t cut me off. I leave that honor for myself as I watch the color drain from my finger when I unwrap the tassel. I’d slowly come to hate the color red, even refusing to eat strawberries at first. It’d become the color I’d hated most after . . after that morning.

“I’m sure that he understands, Ree, or he’s at least trying to. I’ve spoken to him a few times now, and he’s not mad at you. He’s just frustrated and overwhelmed. Harry hates to see you unhappy, it’s always been that way with you too, and vice versa. He wants to fix everything, but I told him that’s not always possible. You can’t fix another person . . . and neither can you, Boops. You’re doing your best and so is he, and after a while-.”

“But I’m not, Dad. I’m hardly trying, only when I feel like it. I . . I don’t know how to do any of this and I don’t want to. I don’t want her to be gone. I was supposed to be a Mom. Her Mom,” I weep, pressing the handful of blanket against my eyes, catching my tears.

“I wish I could make it all better for you too, honey. Ever since you were little, I wanted to kiss the owies better and tell off the kids who were mean to you, but . . . you have to do it yourself and when you can, Becky. You can’t rush this. Grief, it doesn’t have a timetable or a road map- and, honey, you are a Mom. You’re Phoebe’s Mom. Nothing will ever change that,” somehow, I cry harder at his last words, melting into the couch.

“Thank you, Daddy,” I cry into the phone, wishing it was his shoulder, instead. It’s a few moments filled with the sound of my tears and his own sniffles, before I speak again. “But how do I . . how do I let Harry back in? I pushed him away without meaning to and now we’re so far apart, Dad.”

“I think that you need to remember that he’s grieving the loss of a child too. Your child together, Ree, and that he’s feeling the exact same feelings that you are. He’s devastated at not getting to be a father to Phoebe, to meet her, watch her grow up into a person, and do all of the things that you’re grieving the loss of too. You’re a team, honey, and you need to give each other some grace too. There aren’t any rules to this and maybe I shouldn’t talk because I’m divorced, but the first reason you’re there with each other is because you love each other. You have to remember that too, honey. Hey, I’m sorry, I think I’m burning my dinner in the oven. Can I call you back later, sweetie?”

“Yeah, Dad. Of course. Um, thank you. That really helped me,” I reply, swiping at my tears with the dry side of the blanket.

“I’m glad to hear it. I love you, Boops.”

“I love you too, Daddy,” and he’s gone. All I hear is the silence of the dead call and Shrek’s voice on the tv as he yells at Lord Farquaad. It’s what fills my ears and distracts my mind when I lay my head on the pillow, resting my hand on my belly without thinking. But unlike every other time I’d found myself doing it since . . since I was actually holding my baby, I let it stay there, wildly wishing she could be here watching Shrek with me.

I heard him come in when the credits of the movie are switching to the opening of its sequel. It was arguably the best, in my opinion, but it was something Harry and I had always disagreed upon. The memory sparks an invitation for him on my tongue, but upon raising my head, I watch him disappear down the hallway.

My ears aren’t sure what to focus on, the sound of his parting footsteps, the racing of my heart, or guitar strings soon being plucked from down the hall. It wasn’t much of a choice, because my feet were already leading me towards his study. A place where he had been spending a lot of time recently. I find myself gravitating towards the sound and wanting to hear more, but I stop outside the door nervously. My heart pulls me forward, despite the way it gallops, making me feel sick to my stomach. Standing there, I wonder why this is something I’m nervous about, but nothing is the same anymore. I hadn’t felt this way for what had it been now, years? There hadn’t been a time since the beginning that I was nervous to talk to Harry, and yet, here I stood doing just that.

His playing stopped and I perked up, making out the scribbling of pen on paper. Was he writing a song, I wondered quietly and wished I could ask. I didn’t know how to, and that was something I’d thought too many times lately. How to get out of bed. To eat a whole plate of food. Talk to my family and friends. I hardly even knew how to talk to Harry anymore. That’s what was holding me back, wasn’t it? Sure, if you wanted to sum it up.

“I know you’re standing outside the door . . Did you need something?” Harry murmurs, an edge to his voice. It was one that had appeared out of the blue and refused to leave. I only knew because I’d felt my voice change like that too.

There’s the creaking of the floor before I press the ajar door open enough for me to fit through. I find him sitting back down on his office chair, but he faces away from me, a guitar propped on his lap.

“How’d you know?” I ask softly, still awkwardly standing in the doorway. His eyes flit to mine and I’m unsure of why I look away, except that I can’t face him. No, not when mine are still wet and I’m sure they aren't going to dry up anytime soon. Not after what I’m about to say.

“You forget how long I’ve known you,” he mumbles, peering down at the moleskin journal he scribbles in. “Four years, give or take. You learn their cues and the sounds they make when you come to know somebody for that long. That’s how I heard you at the door, it was your footsteps.”

“Oh,” I respond flatly, feeling dumb. His tone doesn’t imply it and nor do his words, but the embarrassment has run rampant already.

Watching him write and escape to his own little world had always been one of my favorite things to observe. Even his handwriting was something that brought me . . comfort. I blamed it on the familiarity, but as it pours from his pen, it makes my heart slow down a few ticks.

“My Dad called and we talked for a little bit.”

Harry hums a reply, crossing something out on the piece of paper. Scratching his head, he sighs whilst staring at the writing. I can’t make it out from here, but once again, the silence finds its old spot. Remembering his initial question when he heard me at the door, I worry that I’m bothering him. Gulping past the nervousness and doubt, I pedal forward.

“Was that yours?” I ask warily, noting his head rising so he can meet my eyes for a split second. They hold a question in them, perhaps dozens. “The song. It . . It was really pretty.”

“Yeah . . It’s just something I’ve been playing around with,” his answer comes out in a pillowy tone. It has changed ever since . . since I’d run away from him, and I hear it now as he speaks his reply.

“I really . . really like it,” I comment, looking towards the ceiling when his grandfather’s Gibson acoustic grows hazy in my eyes.

“Thank . . you. Hey, what is it? Did your dad say something that upset you?” it had been so long since I’d heard that steely edge absent from his voice. I don’t know why I mourned it, because it was my fault it had ever arrived in the first place. Wasn’t it? “Becks.”

“Yeah, he said a lot of things th-that made sense, actually,” I confess, dropping my head to stare at my fingers that I wring. I’m unable to ignore the feeling of my lips trembling against each other, despite busying myself with adjusting my rings. They stop when I arrive at the one that speaks volumes, and how deeply I’d ignored it.

Braving the storm, I finally look at him. His greens are patient and soft, something neither of our eyes have been for the other for awhile now. Without breaking eye contact, he settles his guitar onto its stand and discards the pad of paper.

“Harry, c-can I have a hug?” slowly, the overdue question comes.

“Of course,” he responds, a corner of his mouth quirking up. Already, he’s holding his arms out towards me. “You’ve never needed to ask, buggie.”

“Thank you,” I murmur, feeling the air whoosh out of me when my body touches his. Somehow, my chest shakes harder with a new sob. It only worsens when his hands come under my thighs, lifting me up to sit on his lap.

“It’s been so long since we’ve hugged,” I know he doesn’t mean to, but it feels like a chasm through my chest when he says that. The guilt that had arrived at my dad’s words increases by tenfold.

“I’m sorry,” it’s but a whisper against his neck, my favorite place for hide and seek. But it was always him seeking me, it had been for months now, and I hadn’t let him win. Not once.

“What?”

“I’m so sorry for everything, Harry,” I repeat, pulling back to find his greens swarmed by tears. Swiping my thumb under them, I catch the way that they leak with sadness. “For how horribly I’ve treated you this last month, and how . . how I forgot that you- you lost our baby too.”

“Oh, honey. You don’t have to-,” he begins, adamant in his apology. One that I won’t accept.

“No, but I do have to apologize,” I sob, surprised at the way I’m shocked by the rough feeling of his cheeks. It had been so long since I’d touched him like this, despite watching him grow his beard out. “My dad, he . . he put it into perspective for me. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before, I hate myself for that, for-.”

“Hey, don’t hate yourself for anything. This last month has been a Hell we never thought we’d have to endure. Something we shouldn’t have to deal with, and one that isn’t our fault,” he insists, thumbing at the place where a dimple would usually fall in my left cheek. I’d forgotten it was there, just like I’d done the same to him.

“But all you’ve been doing is trying to take care of me, and I made that so hard for you,” comes my cry against his palm, feeling the way he holds me together from breaking for the thousandth time. No, that would imply I’d have been put back together, but that wasn’t something I’d done. “You tried to make me eat and I fought you on it until you stopped talking about it. I argued with you and ignored you when you were just trying to keep the world going, but you never stopped, even though I did. You didn’t stop living and loving me when I stopped.”

“Becks, it’s okay,” he repeats, the words sliding into my ears as my hand wanders to his neck. A hoodie with cartoons from our childhoods dons his upper half, tattoos peeking out from the color. I found the charm of his necklace instantaneously, something I could do in the dark.

“But it’s not, Harry. It’s not okay how I treated you. I forgot you and that you’ve been mourning the loss of your child too. Our b-baby,” I whimper, sniffling when I inhale uneasily. My fingers shake before me until he takes hold of my hand, surrounding it with his own before pressing it to his lips. “I’m so sorry.”

“I forgive you, Becks. I always will,” Harry says, tucking his chin over my head when I melt against him. “I meant it that first night after we came home and you disappeared on me . . We lost our baby, our child, and I can’t . . I can’t lose you too, Rebecca. I have, time and time again, and I can’t do it again. I’ve hardly stayed pieced together lately being so far away from each other like we have . . God, the only thing that kept me going was just thinking, ‘one more day’ for so many days.”

Hiccuping, my hands brace themselves against his taut back, feeling his own drift along my spine. Shaking my head against the crook of his neck, I struggle to breathe, let alone speak, “I’m so sorry, Harry. I can’t believe how awful I was to you. We’re supposed to get married soon, and I can’t even live up to that in sickness and health part of the vows.”

He continued to murmur assurances that everything was okay, and for the first time in a long while, I found myself believing him. Crying against his neck, I heard his own shed tears onto mine as my hands rubbed circles into his shoulders.

“I’m sorry I got mad at you that day for going to work, even though you asked me and I said it was okay . . And-.”

“Shhh, it’s okay. You don’t have to do that, Becks,” he assures me, pressing a kiss to my head. Again, I believe him, and it feels easier to breathe. Just in the slightest.

“I was such a bitch to you.”

Something sparks inside of my chest at the sound I hear next, one that had been lost along the way. His laugh. His song.

“I’ve been known to be quite the dick on one or two occasions, as well,” I savor the glint that appears in his eyes upon pulling away. It had been one of the first times I was able to lift my head since before all of this had happened, because it had been better just to hide. No, not now.

The quirk to his lips is a full on tilt now, and through them, I’m reminded of what drew me to this man in the first place. It was those eyes and that smile that made me melt upon impact. Well, then there’s the sunshine they share, and how I taste it when his lips meet mine for really the first time in what, a month. Emotion pulls at me from somewhere underneath at the thought, but he makes me forget rather quickly. He’s always been good at that.

His peppermint chapstick sticks to my lips after he’s pulled away several seconds later, trying to catch his breath. The cobwebs have been dusted away in more ways than one, and it feels weird at first, wrong almost, but I laugh. It catches him by surprise too and his eyes focus on me, and only grow brighter.

“I’ve missed kissing you, and laughing with you,” Harry grins, pressing one more to my lips before brushing his nose against mine.

“So have I. I’m s-.”

“I swear, if you say that word one more time,” he tuts, shaking his head with his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to figure out something,” he says, sighing for the dramatic effect. I giggle along with him a moment later, remembering the flecks of gold hidden in his eyes. I remember a lot, too much almost, and the gold is gone as my eyes flood once more. “I know it’s hard, Becks. Something has never been this difficult for me . . for you either. But we have to talk, and I’ve been aching for ages now to talk to you . . I don’t want to ignore it, because they shouldn’t be forgotten. Our daughter. We need to talk about them, about her,” I’m nodding before he can finish, feeling his warm lips against my forehead as I focus on my breaths. “In and out, bug. In and out. We can do this. We’ll start slow.”

I haven’t stopped nodding, but once my lungs start to work again, I pull away and find his eyes once more. It comes to me and I can’t hold it back in anymore, knowing I need to say it first. To tell him.

“Okay, let’s talk about o-our daughter,” I begin, cringing at the sound of my voice breaking already. He nods, cupping my face in his palm, the sweetest of looks on his face.

[eryiss]

Chapter Five -  The Cut

Summary: Freed and Laxus live incredibly different lives. Freed is a corporate lawyer in the capital city, and Laxus works as a handyman in a countryside hotel. Despite their differences, their lives collide when Freed inherits a house in Laxus’ village, and hires him to make the derelict building liveable. But the closer they get, the more they seem to offer each other. [Fraxus Multi-Chapter]

This was written as my admission for Fraxus Day 2020, hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus​. Hope you enjoy it. Also, this chapter has mentions of bullying and descriptions of blood,

You can read this under the cut, on Fanfiction, or on Archive of Our Own. You can find the chapter masterpost here.

Chapter Five – The Cut

Melancholy wasn't the word. It wasn't.

Freed wasn't the type of person to get melancholy, he had never been governed by his emotions at all. He didn't look back on things fondly, nor did he feel a sense of sadness when parts of his life were over. Yes, of course things did make him emotional, but he was by no means the type of person to feel sad because something was over. Life moved on quickly, and so must he. It was the rational way to live his life.

It was a mantra he found himself repeating over and over again, as he walked through the house.

The nearly finished house.

The place was by no means a model home, but it worked as it needed to. Windows had been fixed, plumbing and electricals repaired, and structure reinforced. Walls were still stripped with remnants of old-fashioned wallpaper sticking to it, and the floorboards were bare, but it was a house again. It needed love, attention, and upgrading for anyone to actually want it. But it was liveable. Exactly what Freed had wanted. So, following the logic he lived his life by, he should want to sell the place instantly and get back to Era and work on his next case. It was the next logical step, and exactly what he should be doing.

Of course, he wasn't. Because despite it being in contrast with how he'd always lived, Freed felt an odd sense of reluctance to leave. He found himself more than once hovering over the call button on Gildarts' phone number, only to return his phone to his pocket with a muttered complaint of annoyance at himself.

It was pathetic really.

He tried to rationalise it, give his feeling a pragmatic explanation. He said it was because the house was an achievement for him. Something he had done with his hands. A practical achievement that stood out to him because most of his notable work was with the mind. And why would he want to leave something like that? It was a monument to what he could do when he put his mind to it, and he was proud.

But that was a lie, he knew that. The real reason he didn't want to sell the house was because it was the only thing tying him to Magnolia. And he wasn't ready to leave it yet.

Yes, of course he didn't need to own a house to visit the town. He had gained a solid friendship with Laxus, and had gained acquaintances with Laxus' own friends, and so he could justify visiting them from time to time. But the issue lay in that he didn't really want to come back from time to time. He'd gotten used to visiting for the weekends, and he didn't want to stop.

And he couldn't do that now. Not without everyone in the gossiping village knowing why he returned. Because they would, they'd see through it like glass, and Freed wasn't able to deal with that.

He wasn't good at being embarrassed. Never had been.

There were few situations in his life where he had actually been embarrassed, something that happened by design. There had been a few unfortunate instances in his teenage years that find themselves replaying in his head on random nights. So he had made a conscious effort to avoid any situation where embarrassment might occur. It was working well, all in all, and yet this village had this effect on him that made him question the choices that had kept him sane so far.

Freed shook his head. He wasn't getting melancholy, and he certainly wasn't getting self-reflective.

It did nobody any good.

He took a small sponge and slowly wiped down the table in Albion House's kitchen. It had been there when Freed had inherited it, and after Laxus had sanded it down and polished it, it was as workable as the rest of the house. Tonight was the first time the table was going to be used for its actual purpose. He and Laxus were going to have a meal together.

That didn't help the situation.

Because, clearly there was something more. Magnolia was a nice town, and the people in it were good to Freed, but nobody got that sentimental over a collection of buildings. People did, unfortunately, get sentimental about other people.

And annoyingly, Laxus was a good person. He was snarky, and had a bite to him, and he could challenge Freed without blinking. But he was also kind, and helpful, and when he was teaching Freed how to wire a socket or plumb in a toilet, he was patient and made sure to keep the mood light; particularly when Freed was on the edge of smashing the porcelain bastard with the wrench. He was a good man, and seemed to know how to handle Freed in whatever situation he was in.

Also, he was beautiful. Freed had withheld that admission for a while, but since they would likely part ways soon he wanted to be honest. Broad shoulders, a thin waist, striking blonde hair and bright eyes. Evergreen had been right; he was an Adonis.

It didn't help he had a rustic charm that attracted Freed more than it should.

Perhaps it was for the best that they wouldn't see much of each other. Freed wasn't the romantic type, he had more important things to do. And his attraction was born out of proximity. Laxus was an attractive man, but he was just a man. In one years' time, Freed would have forgotten about him, and his life would be normal again.

And hopefully those occasional dreams would pass too. Be them the disgustingly sweet, or the more… intense ones.

"Hey," A voice snapped Freed out of his thoughts. "I think it's clean."

Freed frowned, then looked down to the table he was cleaning. One particular part of the table in particular was shining more than others. Freed's hackles rose slightly at the teasing tone in Laxus' words, but he scolded himself in his head. Laxus hadn't known what he was thinking about, all he'd seen was Freed washing a table for far too long.

"Out of interest," Freed said, cautiously. "How long have you been here?"

"Fifteen minutes," Laxus grinned, raising the two pots of Chinese food. "Food might be cold."

"Fifteen minutes!" Freed exclaimed, almost horrified.

"It was like half a minute, moron," Laxus smirked, walking to the table, and placing their take-out on the table. "What were you thinkin' about that hard?"

"A case," Freed lied. He didn't have an active case at the moment, but he was probably going to be helping with one soon. When he went back to the city. Permanently. "It's nothing too troubling, really. It's actually quite an easy case really, but our client is high profile, and they might use our services again should they need it. So we need to be litigious and cordial."

"Can't imagine you enjoy being cordial," Laxus smirked. "Probably out of practice."

"And for that, I don't think I'll pay for my half of this," Freed said, reaching over and taking the pot of food from Laxus' hand.

"Kinda proving my point there, ain't ya?"

Freed smiled a little as he brought the chopsticks to his lips. They were having a meal together as a sort of goodbye evening – not helping with Freed's refusal to be melancholy about the situation. Because not only did it force him to confront the fact he's leaving, he has to do so with the man who's making it a lot harder to do so. Worse still, Laxus had looked so damn charming with a tediously honest smile when he'd suggested they eat together. It had sent a little jolt through Freed.

Bastard. Maybe he was doing it on purpose.

"I saw Cana while I was waiting for the food," Laxus spoke again, garnering Freed's attention again. "She mentioned that her dad's looking forward to seeing what we've done with the place, apparently he's been excited about it."

"Is he interested in buying it?" Freed asked, frowning.

"He's your estate agent, Freed," Laxus said in a deadpan voice, though he was clearly fighting a smile. "You should know that. It worries me that you don't know that."

"Gildarts is Cana's father?" Freed frowned further. "They have different surnames?"

"Fuck, sometimes I forget you ain't from here," Laxus laughed loudly, leaning back in his chair and grinning. "There's a hell of a lot you don't know, isn't there? Well, guess the best place to start is with Gildarts, ain't it. Or I guess a more accurate name is Gildarts, Man-Whore Extraordinaire."

And thus, Laxus began to tell the rumours and stories about what Gildarts was like when he was younger – he really did seem to earn the title Laxus had given him – before trailing off to the other stories about Magnolia. He spoke about his hometown with a level of enthusiasm that Freed enjoyed watching, and found himself getting enveloped in the worlds that Laxus was describing. Though he might not be quite as eloquent as Freed was, he certainly made up for it with boisterous laughter and an odd amount of glee at exposing his friends embarrassing stories.

It was almost enough to distract Freed from what Laxus had said. 'I forget you ain't from here.' It was a little sentence, probably a throwaway thought to Laxus, but it made Freed feel oddly comforted. As if he had been accepted into this little community.

A ridiculous idea, really.

He blinked to stop that train of thought, and focused on the story about Elfman. Apparently he had been dragged into some comic book convention by his sisters and had been forced to dress as a monster from a book series. He apparently hated every moment of it, and Laxus had spent the years following showing the pictures of him in the costume at every opportunity he could. To prove his point, Laxus had pulled out his phone and showed Freed.

It was a better costume that Freed expected. But it revealed far too much for the shy, younger version of Elfman that Laxus had described.

Freed did find himself distracted by Laxus, thankfully. But it wasn't quite enough, because as he listened, he absently lowered his left hand under the table and started to swirl his finger against the palm of his hand. Perhaps he wouldn't have noticed the return of his nervous tick, had it not been for the raised scar that he grazed lightly.

It was new, and when he touched it and thought back to its origin, any lie about not being melancholic was shattered.

~~~

"Shit. Fuck. Fuck."

Freed hissed, pain splitting from his left hand up into his arm. He stepped back slightly, eyes flickering to the large gash that he'd just given himself, along with the thick blood that was fighting to get from it. It was a nasty looking cut, and Freed found himself unable to look away from it.

Laxus, who had been crouching down and pushing new floorboards into place, glanced towards Freed with a slight grin. The expression fell when he saw blood drip onto the floor, and he stood up quickly and walked to Freed's side. He took Freed's injured hand in his own, and let out a small hiss of sympathy as he saw the cut. Ridiculously, Freed couldn't help but note that Laxus was holding his hand for the first time.

"That's pretty nasty," Laxus commented.

"Is it," Freed muttered. "I thought it was a papercut."

"Good, if you can be a dick then it ain't that bad," Laxus smiled. "Come on, we need to wash it."

Not removing his hand from Freed's wrist, he dragged the lawyer from the cottage's sitting room and into the kitchen. Freed didn't fight it, instead focusing on catching the droplets of blood rather than letting them land on the carpet and stain it. It was a good enough distraction from both the stinging pain that was running through him, and the presence of Laxus being so close.

It wasn't a distraction from the embarrassment of the situation. Because after being successful at almost every task Laxus had given him, he cut himself sawing off the edge of a floorboard. Out of all the tools he's used, he was bested by a sawblade.

"This ain't gonna hurt a bit," Laxus promised as he opened the faucet and dragged Freed's hand under the stream of water.

Laxus Dreyar was a lying bag of shit.

"Mother fucking crap-whore!" Freed practically yelled. There was a moment of silence, Freed almost panting with pain, and Laxus biting his lip. A second later, a loud, unabashed, raucous laughter filled the room. Laxus actually doubled over he was laughing so much, resting his hands on his thighs while Freed glared at him from the sink. "I'm glad you're enjoying this so much."

"I'm sorry," Laxus grinned, something almost akin to a giggle slipping out. "I really am."

"No you're not."

"I'm not," Laxus agreed. "It was fucking funny, man. I ain't ever seen ya acting like that. Just caught me off guard," He glanced up, met Freed's glare, and burst into laughter again. "I'll get a bandage. I'm sorry."

"Thank you," Freed muttered. "And try not to fall, impale yourself on a spike and die. That would be awful."

"Don't worry. Only an idiot could get hurt in this place," Laxus laughed again, and if Freed had something in reach, he would have thrown it at the bastard's head.

When Laxus returned to the kitchen, he was holding the first aid kit that he had insisted they keep in the house; no doubt when the humour of Freed's injury and subsequent cussing died down, Laxus would gloat about how right he was with demanding the first aid kit. He carefully guided Freed's hand out from under the stream of water, and patted it dry softly with a towel. Freed winced a little at the pressure on his cut, but didn't say anything.

Slowly, with careful and practiced movements, Laxus wrapped the bandage around his hand. He managed to avoid trapping any of his fingers. Though the white fabric did get stained slightly, it seemed to trap the blood from pouring out too badly. The pain was subsiding slightly now, too.

It allowed him to appreciate how gentle Laxus was being. He wasn't used to thinking of Laxus being gentle.

"How do you know how to do this?" Freed asked, sitting at the kitchen table.

"I used to have to do it all the time," Laxus sighed a little as he spoke, removing his hands from the bandage and inspecting his handywork. He looked up to Freed, who was frowning at him slightly. "I had a lot going on when I was a teenager, got into a lot of fights. Well, that's how I saw it. Turns out I was kind of a bully."

Freed frowned deeper. "You were?"

"Yeah. Didn't think I was, at the time, but I went to therapy for a while and she called me out on it," Laxus shrugged. "But yeah, a couple times a month I'd fight some kid. Had a superiority complex or some shit, wanted everyone to worship me and do what I want. Cringey teenager shit and a lot of aggression, bad mix. Eventually, when the guys started to fight back, I needed to learn some basic first aid."

When Laxus looked up, Freed had an expression of curiosity on his face. It clearly wasn't what Laxus had expected.

"Was it the therapy that made you stop, then?" Freed asked, and Laxus seemed blind sighted for a moment.

"Er, no. Not exactly," Laxus shook his head. "There were two kids that pissed me off more than most, don't know why. So when things were getting bad, I kinda… targeted them more than anyone else. Natsu and Gajeel, you might have met them at some point. Fireman and mechanic. But they got pissed at me for taking things too far, jumped me, beat the shit out of me, then went to the principal and told him all the shit I've done. Got suspended, thought about myself, and started meetin' with Porlyusica; she's my therapist. She basically listed all the shit I've done and made me be better."

Freed took a moment to think through what he'd just heard. It was the best thing to do, he'd found out. Sometimes people let out their biggest, darkest secrets to him – the curse of being a lawyer – and your first thoughts on the matter were often unhelpful. So he took some time, and eventually asked the question that seemed most prudent.

"Your principal suspended you without evidence?" Freed asked.

"Oh he had plenty of evidence," Laxus laughed. "Hard to get shit past the guy when he's your grandfather."

"Makarov?" Freed frowned.

"Yeah, used to be in charge of the school. Only retired because the school board forced him to," Laxus grinned. "He started working at the hotel because he found retirement boring," Laxus smiled for a moment at the memory of his grandfather's sudden proclamation he was buying the hotel, before looking back to Freed, smile drooping slightly. "I just admitted to beating up kids and being a bully, why doesn't that bother you?"

"Some of my clients intentionally lower their workers' wages to increase their own paycheque, and then laugh about it," Freed shrugged. But Laxus nudged him, sensing there was more. "Nobody was there best in high school, I certainly wasn't."

"You were a bully too huh?" Laxus laughed, joking.

"Well, not exactly, but I wasn't the most kind," Freed leant back in his chair. "I was the smartest person there and wanted people to know it. I would start discussions on test results just so I could make sure everyone knew I'd gotten one hundred percent. And there was one boy, he wasn't the smartest, who sat beside me in most classes. Alphabetised seating plans and all. I could be rather… patronising to him. I think I had a crush on him, in retrospect. It was probably a twisted way of trying to deal with it."

"You don't seem like that now," Laxus commented. "Other than when you're joking, but I know that ain't serious. What changed?"

"Evergreen and Bickslow essentially told me that if I didn't get over myself, they'd stop being my friends," Freed smiled. "Other than them, I only had my parents. I couldn't lose them."

They sat in silence, Freed thinking back to the person he was in high school, Laxus perhaps doing the same thing. It was an odd feeling, sitting with someone who somewhat understood what it was like being ashamed of the person you used to be, but knowing you've grown past them. Most people, if they did feel like that, didn't talk about it. It was nice to know that, in Laxus, he had someone he could relate to.

It was also nice to know that he had just come out to Laxus and the blonde hadn't so much as blinked.

"I would have kicked your ass if we went to school together," Laxus declared, smirking.

"You would have tried," Freed corrected, allowing the mood to be lifted. "But, as a child I was also an award-winning fencer. I would have stabbed you before you could hurt me."

"Hard to stab someone when you've been knocked out," Laxus grinned cockily, making a fist. This had the unfortunate side effect of making his bicep flex, and therefore Freed had to avert his gaze.

They chuckled together, enjoying their joke that wasn't particularly funny. It was relaxing to be around with Laxus, and Freed felt as though he could be honest with him in a way that he couldn't be with others. Perhaps that was because he was the first person Freed had gotten to know deeply since his time in school. But that didn't matter, really. Because the important thing was that he enjoyed Laxus.

"Come on," Laxus spoke again. "I don't trust my bandage work. Let's go to the doctors, make sure you ain't gonna get infected or some shit."

And stupidly, Freed's heart fluttered at that.

~~~

"You really are distracted, ain't ya?"

Freed looked up from his hand, which he had placed on the table and was fiddling with, and towards Laxus. The blonde had an expression unknown to Freed, something between being amused and contemplative. Freed frowned.

"I suppose I am," Freed agreed. "I'm sorry. You wanted to do this and I'm being terrible company. What were you saying?"

"It ain't important," Laxus gave a half shrug. "You wanna tell me what's bothering you?"

"As I said, I've got an upcoming case that could be very good for my company," Freed quickly lied, because the truth was now completely untellable. "It's getting to me a little, but it's not as bad as you might think. I just need to rationalise everything."

"Right. So when I texted Evergreen a second ago and she said you don't have anything planned at work, she was lying?" Laxus crossed his arms, and Freed's eyes narrowed.

"You and Evergreen talk?"

"You can bullshit me all you want, but I'm gonna be able to see through it," Laxus said, ignoring Freed's question. "And you don't have to tell me what's actually bothering you, because if it ain't my business then it ain't my business."

Freed wanted to snipe at him. Ask him why, if he believed his words, was he still talking?

"I'm just gonna say this," Laxus continued. "Nothing has to be done if you don't want it to be."

And, in a way, there was the reality that Freed had been hiding from. Because, as much as he didn't want to leave Magnolia behind, he also didn't want to let himself think he could stay. The hard line he had always drawn with the house was that, once it was functional and sellable, he would sell it and get back to his normal life. Not only was it a goal for him to achieve, but it had also turned into a rule he had to follow.

Because his fondness for both the town and Laxus had been gradual, and it hadn't gone unnoticed by Freed. He told himself he had to leave the place behind at some point, and doing that once the house was sold was a way of holding himself accountable. Once the building work had been completed, there was nothing else for him to do in Magnolia.

But that was a lie.

And the only person keeping him true to the rule was himself.

"I always said that I would sell it once everything was fixed," Freed stated, voice flickering into the lawyer tone he denied having.

"Then say something else," Laxus retorted, as if Freed could do that. "Look, I don't know what your life is like when you're in the city. But I know you seem to like being here. So why don't you just keep coming?"

"I-" Freed paused. He needed to think. "My real life is in the city. I can't-"

"Who says that your real life is just in the city? You've been coming here every weekend for months now, it's as much a part of your life as anything," Laxus stated, and his smile made Freed's resolve crumble slightly.

"I told myself that once the house-"

"This isn't about the house" Laxus insisted. "This is about you, fucking idiot. I think being here makes you happy. And if something makes you happy, why stop because of some bullshit rule you set yourself? That ain't smart."

Freed thought, for a moment.

It was almost nauseating to hear Laxus speaking like this, and Freed couldn't explain why. Well, perhaps he could, but the explanation wasn't something he was willing to entertain. Because the only real reason Laxus would be so insistent on Freed returning to Magnolia as he had been doing was because he wanted to keep seeing Freed. He wanted Freed to stop coming as much as Freed wanted to.

But Freed couldn't allow himself to accept that. Because if he did, he'd start wondering why. And then maybe he'd trick himself into thinking that his silly crush was reciprocated. He couldn't.

"There is… more work I could do," Freed spoke without thinking.

"I guess there is," Laxus nodded. "So you're sticking around? For the house"

"For the house."

It wasn't for the house. They both knew it.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Sixty-One

Words: 3.6K

Warning(s): explicit language, sexual situations, mentions of drug abuse

Tag List: @unknownoblivion  @sinningsixx  @edwardtriggerhandzz  @lemmyjelly  @haileynicoleseavey17  @cierrasixx19  @oskea93  @mgkobsessed  @vamprlestat  @sharon6713  @itsametaphorbriansblog  @miriampraez  @allie-mcginn @xpoisonousrosesx  @rebeccaphillips14  @nicholeh7  @fandomshit6000  @lilmou5ie  @tamedhearts  @divaanya  @kingbouji3 @evrsncnewyork @6ixx6ixx  @ratedrkohardychick91  @floregrohlssard  @oldschoolimagineblog  @thanks2pete  @abaldboi  @swoopygorl @justjodeye @liith-ium  @caos18blog  @ytwahsog  @shamlessobsession  @scarecrowmax  @toadspleen @random-internet-user-4471  @solohqrry  @loveofmyloif  @sparxx27  @kaitieskidmore1  @cruecifymesixx  @ijustwanttokiss70srogertaylor  @emmaelizabeth2014 @meetthesixxter  @sixxsixxsexx @sublimeprincesswasteland @arianareirg  @girlnight-terror  @mcnibberachi

@fancywasmyname1  @teller258316  @ggorehorror  @blowinmeupwithherlove  @xrosegoldwolfx  @mylifeisjustafeverdream  @redlipscrystalskies14 @str4nge-haze

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED

I pour dog food into Whisky's bowl, hearing his little paws smack against the floor as he rushes into the kitchen, his collar rattling and his excited panting greeting me when I feel his tongue licking at my arm.

"Good morning." I say to him, patting at his head before he starts eating. 

Once he's finished I'm picking him up as  Nikki comes in, scratching another thing off his to-do list. 

When he steps by me I grab at his hand to stop him and he shakes his head. 

"Nah, I don't need dog hair on me, babe." He grins, dodging me and I follow him. 

"But, daddy, look at this cute little face." I hold the puppy out to him, giving my best puppy dog eyes and Nikki raises a brow. 

"Whisky, tell mommy she can't call me 'daddy' because it'll make me wanna do stuff to her that I don't have time to do right now." He warns, grabbing his packed suit case. 

"We're about to leave for a couple months, Nikki, and he'll be at obedience school. At least hold him for a minute so he won't forget we love him." I suggest and Nikki blinks at me. "I'll give you a blowjob on the way to the airport." I add. 

"Aww, boy, am I gonna miss you!" He takes the happy little Whisky from me and holds him, kissing at his head and calling him a "good boy." "Viv, he's gonna be the best lookin' little stud muffin in that place." He tells me. 

"Speaking of which, maybe they'll figure out a way to combat the humping." I say and Nikki looks at me.

"We're not getting him fixed."

"Are we going to breed him or something?" 

"No, I just don't wanna take his balls, Viv. He's a man's man. He's a good boy. Not a good 'kinda/sorta' boy." 

"He's gonna be more prone to hump anything and everything, and pee on everything more than normal and it'll be a struggle to take him anywhere with other dogs because he'll wanna misbehave."

"Exactly, it'll be like me as a dog." He explains with a smile. "Just look at him, babe. He wants to be just like daddy." 

"Okay, well, if he isn't fixed as soon as he can be, daddy isn't allowed to even breathe the same air as mommy until he gets neutered." I take Whisky back and Nikki cuts his eyes at me. 

"You use your pussy as a like a 'get out of jail free' card anytime you want something and it's annoying." He tells me and I raise my brows. 

"If it's so annoying, why haven't you just put your foot down already?" I ask him, putting Whisky back down on the floor. 

"Because I like the fear of never getting between your legs again. It's thrilling." He jokes and I roll my eyes. 

"Shut up and pack." I chuckle, nudge at him. 

"I'm packed." He states. 

"Four shirts, two pairs of pants, and a Bowie record, isn't 'packed', Nikki." 

"It is when you have money to buy everything else when you get to your destination." He states. 

I ignore him and grab my suit case, about to pack my own stuff. 

When I come back from my closet, two of my bikinis I only wear at home are already laying in the bottom of my suitcase and I look at Nikki, picking the neon pink and bright purple bathing suits up. 

"I already told you earlier, I'm not bringing these, Nikki." I tell him. 

"Why not?"

"The top barely covers my nipples and my boobs spill out, and the bottoms aren't much better."

"But I bought those for you." He reminds me.

"And I like wearing them here, when nobody else is around." 

"At least pack them just in case." 

"Nikki--"

"--Don't argue, Viv. Trust me, you're gonna want them." He says. 

"Fine." I give in, packing them, and my more modest bikinis, before packing clothes and essentials. 

When I come back with pads and tampons, there's articles of lingerie I've never seen before.

"Nikki." I look at him, holding up a scarlett red number with ribbons that criss-cross down the back and tie in a bow where the base of my spine should go. "Are you up to something?" 

"What?" 

"What are you planning?" I ask him and he scrunches his face up. 

"Nothing, baby, I just thought you'd look pretty in that while I'm knocking your hips lose." He shrugs casually. 

"You hate me wearing lingerie while we're fooling around because it interferes with your ability to see everything." I point out.

"Just accept it. And pack it. Because you'll want it." He mumbles. 

"I know you're up to something, Sixx." I accuse him and he shakes his head. 

"No, I'm not up to anything." He denies.

"Skimpy swimsuits, expensive lingerie, sketchy phone calls with Fred...you're up to something."

"Nope. I'm just looking forward to all the time we're gonna spend together on this tour, is all." He shrugs. 

"Mhmm." I sarcastically let out, doubtfully. 

"I mean, if you wanna spend our anniversary--which lands on our day off--with the guys, our opening band, and screaming fans then that's cool, too, I guess." He shrugs. 

"Oh, shit, we have our anniversary this month?"

I might have remembered our anniversary had I been able to wear my wedding ring but it'd gone missing at that point, and I had no clue where it was. 

And neither did Nikki, honestly. 

"I'm not even gonna say anything about you forgetting our anniversary because I've secretly forgotten our anniversary and your birthday every year until someone reminded me a couple weeks in advance, so..." He smiles innocently and I raise a brow. 

Whisky's picked up a couple hours later and Nikki and I are off to the airport without a moment to waste the second our driver pulls up. 

And then the clothes come off.

We don't even notice we're at the airport until the door is flying open to reveal Fred. 

"Get dressed and c'mon, guys, we're running late." He urges as Nikki marks up my neck with his teeth, causing me to laugh at Fred's face turning red in aggravation.

He slams the door shut and I hear them open the trunk to grab our bags and I hum out, smiling when Nikki presses his lips to mine. 

"We gotta go." I breathe out, moving off of him and he groans. "We can do plenty of this in the hotel." I motion between us, buckling my bra, and he smirks. 

"...And on the plane, and on the bus on the way to the show, and backstage, and during Tommy's drum solo, and after the show." He says slyly, pressing a trail of kisses up my arm to my shoulder. 

"Exactly, so, get dressed." I mumble against his lips when he kisses me again. 

Once we're done, we get out of the car and board the plane. 

The stewardesses are gorgeous blondes, which doesn't surprise me, because if Vince has any say in what their female help looks like, they're going to be blonde. 

"Guys, we need a picture!" Tansy insists. 

"Tansy--"

"--I want one." She interrupts Fred, her blue eyes silently begging, and he gives in. 

Morbid reality was that Tansy didn't expect to live much longer, and she wanted to take as many pictures as possible for us to remember her by.

No one really expected Nikki to live much longer, either, of course they never told me that until it was obvious he was crashing.

Once we get the picture taken and take off, it only takes ten minutes before Tommy and Nikki are snorting zombie dust like it's pixie stick powder, and demanding alcohol. 

"You guys need to stay as sober as possible for the show!" Doc argues when Nikki calls him an "asshole" for not giving him a whole bottle of whiskey. 

"We'll be fine like we always are, man, just fucking--"

"--Nikki, please, sit down." I gently tug at his arm when he stands as if he's about to march to Doc and start throwing punches. 

He just glares down at me. 

"Please, baby." I ask him, really, really not wanting to deal with a messed up Nikki Sixx before their show even begins. 

He just stares at Doc before plopping back down beside me, lingering in and out of focus. 

As if it can't get any worse, when we land, there's a slew of groupies waiting in the airport. 

Which we only realize this when we're in their sight and they start in out of nowhere. 

And, of course, ignoring Fred's orders--made from the motivation to keep the guys protected and out of trouble, which is why they hired him--Tommy and Vince gladly accept every single woman throwing herself at them, from the comfort of the bathroom. 

The "Girls, Girls, Girls" tour was nicknamed the "Airport Blowjob Tour" because at every airport we came to, and I mean literally every airport, groupies were like Hornets swarming the place with all the motivation in the world to simply blow the band. 

A few of them would make multiple trips to multiple airports, following the guys wherever city they flew to. 

I admired their passion. 

Some of them were more dedicated to trying to blow my husband than I was. 

Which said a lot because I was pretty dedicated. 

"It's hot as satan's balls out here." Nikki groans when we step off the tour bus after leaving the airport. 

"We're in the middle of Arizona, babe." I remind him. 

He just looks at me from behind his sunglasses. 

"What?" I ask as we head to the hotel's building. 

"Nothing." He shakes his head, opening the door to the lobby, letting me walk in first. 

Doc gets everyone checked in, before I'm getting a shower and getting ready for tonight while Nikki and Tommy dick around. 

By the time we all meet at bus to head to the venue, Fred's got the backstage IDs ready for the road crew and Tansy and I. 

"Here." Fred puts the lanyard over my head with my picture on it, under it reading "Vivian, 6½".

"Thank you." I tell him, climbing in to see Nikki already sitting down, bottle of Jack in his hand as he hands Tommy a lighter for his cigarette.

I'm slightly startled, feeling Vince suddenly throw his arm around me, causing me to stop in my tracks.

"I want a drink. I'm gonna hide in the bathroom and you're gonna sneak it to me." He tells me in my ear and I look at him.

Before I can say, "hell no", I can tell he's desperate. 

"Please, Viv. My nerves are eating me alive right now and I can't drink anything without them jumping on me about it." He nods to Nikki and Tommy who aren't paying attention in the slightest. 

"Vince--"

"C'mon, move it." Doc nudges at Vince's back to get us to hurry up and sit down so he can get by. 

"Fine, gimme a couple minutes." I mumble to Vince before walking to Nikki, sitting down beside him. 

Vince goes to the bathroom, and Emi and Donna sit in front of me and Nikki as Mick sits with Tommy.

Within a few minutes, I'm actively attempting to slyly sneak Nikki's bottle of Jack back to the bathroom after Nikki abandons it to comment on this month's issue of Hustler Magazine with Tommy. 

I tuck the bottle into my purse, well...the best I can, at least. 

"Baby, can you let me out so I can go use the bathroom." I sweetly ask Nikki, and he doesn't even look at me as he responds: "Sure, babe" and stands up, pointing at a girl in the magazine and going "there's no way she's actually able to do that, that's gotta be edited", and I roll my eyes. I wish he wouldn't look at magazines like that, but it's a lost cause if I try to ask him not to, so I just ignore it the best I can and try to tell myself he doesn't look at them because I'm not good enough or something. 

He just looks at them because guys just like looking at naked girls in explicit positions. 

By the time I get to the bathroom, Vince is snatching the bottle from me as I lock the door behind me, crossing my arms in the small bathroom as he takes a long drink of it. 

"You're welcome." I state to him, and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

"Did I thank you?" He smartly asks and I raise my brows. 

"Umm, you should. I'm risking getting an earful from Nikki if he finds out I'm giving his singer--who's on a court mandated sobriety streak--liquor." I blink at him and he rolls his eyes. 

"Oh, please, if he or Tommy were in my shoes they would've put sobriety aside two weeks after it was in place and never would have looked back." He scoffs out. 

I don't argue because it's true. 

"Be nice." Is all I say and he looks at me pointedly. 

"C'mon, Viv, you know it's true. And if it were one of them that got in that wreck with Razzle, and they got caught drinking afterward, nobody would blink an eye because they're Nikki and Tommy."

"Vince, that's not true." I try to tell him.

"Whatever Nikki says, goes. Whatever Nikki wants, he gets. He's the one that put the band together which means his say is the final say, and same with Tommy because he's close with Nikki and Nikki backs him up." 

I can't say anything. 

"And you're not even arguing because you know as well as everyone else that it's true. It's Nikki and Tommy and nobody else fucking matters. Certainly not the washed up singer that nearly killed their careers." 

He hands me the bottle back and I rub my lips together. 

"Thanks." He mumbles before sliding past me to open the door and leave. 

I put the lid back on the bottle and hide it back in my purse before I go back to Nikki and put the bottle back, undetected, my mind reeling over what Vince said. 

It was clear there was a disconnect between Nikki, Tommy, and Vince after Razzle died, and it just got worse and worse as the years went by.

Tommy and Nikki, notorious "Terror Twins" got into more shit than anyone else around us, combined. 

The deepest shit Vince got into was that wreck, and after that he quit a majority of his bullshit on making life for everyone around him, difficult by acting up, and just started moving in silence. 

He'd have his petty moments, but for the most part, he would lay low and leave Tommy and Nikki to raise hell and embarrass the band and their team. 

I could tell he was bothered by the fact that he made a mistake that Nikki or Tommy had a higher chance of making at the time, and because of that, he was kicked out of their little club. 

And the fact that Tommy and Nikki got away with absolutely everything, got to him the most. 

I admit, Vince should have served more time for the Razzle tragedy, but he still had to live knowing Hanoi Rocks was no more, knowing he let fans down, knowing he gutted Razzle's friends, family, band and fans, and knowing--although accidental--he was partly to blame for one of his friends' deaths. 

But Nikki and Tommy didn't give a fuck what they did, who they did it to, why they did it, how they did it, or whether they meant to do it or not. 

And they didn't care because they would always get away with it. 

Always. 

Vince was tempted to tell me about Vanity, but decided not to because he didn't want to hear shit from Nikki, but also because he'd rather me find out from a place of genuine concern. 

Not just him blurting it to me in order to spite Nikki and finally make sure there was something he didn't get away with doing. 

My lips pull into a wide grin as I cover my mouth before a loud shriek can fall past my lips and alert everyone outside the bathroom of the venue, what's going on in here. 

Nikki continues to slide his hot, warm tongue against my clit as I grind in rhythm with his mouth. 

Just as I'm about to come, someone's banging on the door. 

"C'mon, guys!" It's Fred. "Nikki, you're on in, like, two minutes!"

"Got it!" I reply for him, being that his mouth is busy, and Nikki just grins up at me, causing my third orgasm to begin to build. 

"Nikki, dude, we gotta go!" Tommy calls from the other side of the door. 

Just as I'm coming, the door is unlocked with Fred's key, and I'm too shell shocked to try to get away from Nikki. 

We both just look at Doc, Fred, and Rich Fischer, who are nearly fuming. 

"Fred, what the fuck is wrong?" Nikki snaps as I pull my dress back down, my face burning bright red as I try to fix my hair and my lipstick, and ignore my cum running down my legs. 

"You're about to be late for your first show of this tour over some pussy, that's what the fuck is wrong. Get out there." Doc snaps at him. 

"Wait." I say, taking my crucifix off, handing it to him. 

He takes it with a sly little grin, looking at me before clasping it around his neck for good luck on the first show. 

"Thanks, Viv." He tells me, kissing my cheek before he heads to stage. 

I follow after him, but Doc grabs at my arm, gently, to stop me. 

"What?" I ask him, still embarrassed from earlier. 

"You're not going to be too big of a distraction, are you?" He asks me and I raise my brows. 

"Excuse me?"

"Anytime he's late, Vivian, it's either linked to you or heroin, and he's off smack so he's gonna be onto you more." He explains. 

"We've been married for four years, Doc, and I've never been a 'distraction'. What the hell are you talking about?" I ask. 

He just lets out a breath. 

"Just don't let this happen again." He tells me and I exhale, rolling my jaw. 

"I'm sorry, it won't happen again." I assure him, feeling like I've just been scolded by my freaking mother.

"Good." 

Did I mention that Mötley was in their prime and Doc was considerably paranoid of someone throwing a wrench in the machine that was Mötley Crüe? 

Once the show is finished, the guys are given masks for hyperventilation, their sweaty, liquor purging bodies slumped.

After they calm down, it starts. 

"Alright, where we going?" Tommy asks Nikki, punching lightly at his shoulder as Vince is about to get a shower to get the sweat off of him. 

"Strip club, probably." Nikki pants out, drinking a bottle of water in 20 seconds, handing it to me when he's finished. "What about you, Mick, you coming this time?" Nikki asks him and Mick shrugs. 

"Doesn't really matter to me." He states.

"Guys, you want food?" Fred offers, sticking his head in the dressing room. 

"Yes." We all say and he chuckles. 

"Alright, we're on it." He assures us.

"You're not getting a shower?" I ask Nikki and he shakes his head. 

"Nope." He replies and I wrinkle my nose. 

"As long as you shower before you get in the bed with me." I say to him and he smirks. 

"There's two beds in the room." He reminds me. 

I blink at him, blankly. 

"Don't even play like that." I tell him and he chuckles. 

"Don't be a baby, Sixx." He says as he nudges at me and I exaggeratingly move away from him. 

"No, stop." I try to hide my smile as he just gets closer to me again, so I move some more, only causing him to follow. "Nikki, chill out." I say, seeing the look in his eyes: he's up to no good. "Nikki, don't!" 

He's suddenly tugging me into his lap, his sweaty, soaked clothing pressing to my back, causing me to squeal as he tickles at my sides, and I scream out in laughter as I get that nostalgic feeling I felt when I realized I first loved him, and would rather die than go without being with him forever. 

We weren't arguing, we weren't trying to hurt each other, we were getting closer and closer to how we were when we first got married. 

There was no heroin, there was no blatant meanness...we were just starting to learn to be in love with each other again.

I, completely overlooking blatant signs and red flags, figured, "we made it through his heroin addiction, we're making it through fame and public scrutiny, we're getting stronger and stronger and back to normal...mom was wrong, and we can handle anything."

And that was the problem: I felt too fucking secure. 

Hearing and knowing about all these rockstars cheating on their significant others, and I felt prideful that Nikki might've been an asshole, but he'd never do such a thing to me. 

I was beginning to have an arrogance about it.

And that's the thing about us when we get arrogant: God, or the universe, or Karma--whatever we believe--humbles us. 

And I thought all of them had gotten together and made a plan to humble me to absolute hell. 

[the-pan-ace-writings]

Chapter 6 The start of a Fire

   First Previous  Masterlist

Taglist

   The sun had just started to warm the sky when Riona moved off the couch in the room and started to collect her armor and dried clothes from the restroom. She cleaned up Dogmeat as best she could without completely soaking him and sent him to wake up MacCready. 

   “Hey! Dog! Get off!” She heard MacCready screeching and caught him fumbling to his feet as she entered the room. 

   “Folks round’ here said there was a detective in town, Mr. Valentine a cross town” Riona was finishing attaching her armor as she spoke, MacCready just grinned and collected his items Dogmeat following at his heels as they all made it down to the city center. It took them a small bit of wandering till they found the neon pointing down a narrow alley. 

   She heard rustling around and furniture being scattered about, she pressed her ear to the door and heard a woman in a frantic panic. She glanced over at MacCready, drawing her sword and stepping into the small office. 

   What she found was a woman tearing the place apart like a chicken without her head, but no one else was present in the room.

   “Uh ma’am, everything okay?” Riona lowered her sword and pushed the muzzle of MacCready's Rifle as he entered the office behind her. The woman startled sharply moving to look at them making a quick judgement. 

   “You gotta help me, my Boss, the detective is missing. He's working a case on a kidnapping case, Skinny Malone’s gang took a young woman he tracked the gang to park street station, there's an old vault down there that they use as a base. I told Nick he was walking into a trap, but he just smiled and walked out the door like he always does” she was clearly distressed and near tears as she was speaking, Riona didn't even think twice about agreeing to help her find the detective, Riona probably needed this man as much as this woman did. 

   “Doll, I'll find him, but why don't you tell me your name so I can tell him who sent me?” Riona put her sword back on her hip and tried not to look as intimidating, MacCready grumbled about having just been nearby and why we needed to help him, Dogmeat shoved his weight into the sniper causing him to stumble. 

   The woman blinked at her, seemingly surprised at how quickly Riona accepted, she was silent. “Ma’am I'm Riona this is MacCready” she pointed at them both before looking back at her unexpectedly. 

   “I'm Ellie, I'm his secretary, I would come with you but someones gotta clean up this mess.” She turned to start cleaning up the office before she tossed some stimpacks their way. “Don't you go dying out there too, bring him back” 

   “Well get ol’ Nicky back for you” MacCready grumbled behind her and started for the door, taking the stimpacks into his pack. Riona followed closely after him. 

   “Why don't you ever want to help people?” Riona asked, it was clear in her tone that she doesn't approve of his attitude. 

   “Why do you charity work?, I could help you find what you're looking for without trying to find Nick.” he tugged his cap down and started back towards the gateway of Diamond City.  

   “Because you don't look qualified to find people, and why are caps so important to you anyway? I'm already paying you and you get half of what we find.” 

   “Don't worry about it.” He sped up his pace, walking away from her. She scowled and moved in front of him, jabbing her finger into his chest forcing them to stop near the gate. 

   “Don't you dismiss me. I hired you, if you get in my way ill cut you lose and then your precious cap stream i'll’ be gone! This is too important for you to be an ass Cready’.” She stared at him.  He shook his head and almost stepped pass her before meeting her eyes again. 

   “I left someone behind and they need it.” his eyes darted away and he pulled his duster closer to him. “The vault is back near Goodneighbor” 

   Riona took the lead, pulling up the coordinates on her pipboy marking so she could follow it on the radar. It was silent between them on the way to the vault, Riona took the most direct way there and they had to clear out about three raider camps, they arrived and it was clear that Riona was in no good mood, tired and bloody from traveling there. MacCready was going to suggest trying to find a place to camp out before entering the vault but Riona just threw the doors open to the subway not even looking back. 

   The subway station was filled with Malone's goons, and traps. It took them a moment to make it through the first room as MacCready had to cover her as she disengaged some traps and collected the small parts. But once the room was safe for combat it was like a switch flipped in her mind, her sword hummed as she cut through the goons, she barreled through multiple men with sub machine guns, her armor absorbing what she wants to be able to avoid, and where she did neither she never even flinched.

   When she found the vault door she froze momentary, flashes of having to enter 111 and what happened there coming to mind. It was only a moment but MacCready noticed, stared worriedly at her and was about to say something when Riona shook her head and opened the door with her pipboy, anxiously waiting for the door to swing open where she could enter. 

   Once she crossed the threshold of the vault a shiver ran up her spine at the dimly lit and half built vault. But she was back in action as a triggerman rounded the  corner, shouting firing a pistol, it struck her shoulder plate. She snarled before taking the head off his shoulders with her sword, MacCready made a disgusted sound as warm blood splashed on her. 

   Through her wandering she found the overseer’s office, guarded by a dumb looking man who was yelling through the door at someone behind the door. Riona ducked back behind the corner and looked over at MacCready. 

   “Cready’ could you get that please.” her voice was falsely sweet, almost as if she took the nearing death of the guard humorous. He nodded and peaked around the corner, it took him seconds to silence the guard and go hear the thud as his body hit the ground. Riona clasped his shoulder before walking over the door. 

   “You the detective?” She called through the door. 

   “Yes, and who do I owe the honor too?” his voice was rough, she looked through the window and meet golden eyes, She started on the door trying to unlock it. 

   “Riona and MacCready, your secretary sent us. Said you've been missing a while.”

   “I've been cooped up in here for weeks. Turns out the runaway daughter I came here to find wasn't kidnapped. She's Skinny Malone's new flame, and she's got a mean streak.” He backed away from the door as it opened and they entered. “She got worried didn't she?” 

   “Yeah she was tearing the place apart when we got there.” MacCready reported to him, Dogmeat giving an affirmative boof. 

   “I assume you didn't just come out of the goodness of your heart now did you?” The more Riona observed the Detective it became obvious that he was one of the synths that everyone had been giving her warnings about, but he was dilapidated, wires and exposed metal apparent in holes and tears in his synthetic skin. 

   “I'm looking for someone. They were kidnapped by a mercenary, I need help and was told to find you when I was in town. Went an awful lot outta the way to get to you, so let's hurry this up before we get swarmed, i'm sure people heard all the commotion when we broke in” Riona didn't even wait for a response from Nick, she just walked out and towards the exit, she had noticed the floor plan of this vault was similar to the one she came from, though hers lacked an atrium, she supposed you didn't need a congregation area when all your guests are frozen dinners. 

When they entered the exit hall, they had been met with muzzles pointed at them. Riona quickly judged that that they were too close to even survive at this range. A fat man dressed like a stereotypical gangster from the ol’ time and a dame to match stood at front, with two triggermen guarding their back. 

   The man she guessed was skinny Malone spoke towards Nick, having ignored both her and MacCready, who had not yet entered the room. Riona tuned out the conversation between Nick and Malone, instead trying to figure out how likely they would make it out alive from the vault. She had lowered her hand to bury it in the scruff of Dogmeats neck when he walked up and stuck himself between her knees defensively. She could feel her undershirt starting to stick to her abdomen, she felt a sharp sting on her left and she realized her time of rampaging the vault she must been struck. She tried not to focus on it but it was near impossible after things had calmed down from the previous combat.   She only was brought back to the conversation when she heard a shrill voice interrupt, angrily. 

   “Skinny why don't we just kill em’, it be real easy” Her voice stuck a cord in Riona, and she felt her lip pull in a twitch and turned to look at her. She had a bat that she kept swinging and edging closer to her. Riona reared back when she drew her bat too close for comfort nearly buckling her knee doing so, Dogmeat let her lean on him. 

   “Nick, seems like talking isn't gonna work.” She snarled 

   “Why don't you shut up lady! Ain’t nobody talkin’ to ya.” 

   Riona raised her sword back up, the humming of the electrified blade filling the room as it went silent, she pulled up her bandana across her face. Skinny raised his gun towards her, the room erupted as MacCready’s rifle range across the room. Skinny dropped and his dame was next as the sword sunk into her gut, Nick had pulled out a pistol and took care of one of the triggermen, Cready’ caught the last one in the thigh and Riona had finished him off. 

   She pulled the bandanna down and let MacCready collect caps after she nodded to him. She fained helping him but instead took a moment to bind a crude bandage to her side that was slowly seeping more blood. She handed Cready some of the items she pulled off a trigger man and met his eyes. 

   “Thank you.” She pulled her attention back towards Nick. He wasn't in the best mood, clearly written on his face. 

   “I had that, there was no reason for that. Coulda bought that girl back home” 

   “Dames like that don't change, you were right she had a mean streak, I just took care of it for you.” He sighed and led them out of the vault. 

   “I suppose I owe you at least, no telling how long I would have been locked up in there. Once we get back to my office I can take your statement and help you find who you're looking for.” 

   “We gotta find a place to rest first, traveled all the way through from Diamond City to get here. We should stop back at Goodneighbor, it's not that far from here” MacCready spoke up after slinging his rifle on his shoulder and glazing over to Riona who was looking pale and started to sway. He made eye contact with her and she just shook her head, and straighten. He took point leading them to Goodneighbor, her and Nick had chatted for a little before she fell quiet trying to put all her energy into just making it back to Goodneighbor. 

   When they got the Riona had almost all of her weight on the oversized dog, MacCready stood nearby. Nick had gotten them two rooms as a thanks for saving him, and when he disappears into his room and they made it into theirs she nearly collapsed on the ground only to be caught by MacCready who helped her over to the couch. 

   “Was there a reason you felt the need to wait this long to take care of this? Or tell anyone?” Cready was stern as he addressed her, already digging around her ruck to find the small med kit she carried, he’d have to clean up the wound before using a stimpack on her to ensure infection wasn't trapped in. 

   “It wasn't safe, I was fine-” her nails dug into her palm as he poured the remaining liquor on to her wound, she could feel some of it soaking into the cushions under her adding to her discomfort which was soon was amplified to a near shout only covered by his hand over her mouth as he dug for the bullet lodged in her still. He was half sitting on her to keep her down and unmoving on the couch trying his best to be fast about it. 

   When he was done Riona was pale sweaty and out of breath, she was floating in between consciousness. A stimpack helped it close over a bit more when he was done cleaning the wound, and once it was bandaged he lifted her from the couch to move her over to the bed trying to slip her out of the rest of her armor. 

   Dogmeat had climbed up onto the bed and curled up next to her, and he couldn't tell if she was just compact or if the dog really was that large. Regardless he tucked her into the bed and looked down at her thoughtfully before shaking his head and leaving the room. 

Next

Would you like to be apart of a tag list? Let me know! and feel free to leave comments or suggestions 

Check out this story on AO3 

[ticklikeabomb]

The Language of Limbo - Part 3

Pairing : Chris Evans x Plus Size Reader ; Marvel Cast x Plus Size Reader

Warnings : Language

Word Count : 3.5k

The week went on just as the previous ones : wake up, prepare yourself, go train with Mason who you discovered was also hired as stunt man for the movie, go back home, have something small to eat and crash down on your bed.

It was so far, the beginning of shooting. You grabbed your suitcase and headed to the airport, catch the plane for Atlanta. The stewardess guided you towards your seat and you noticed that your neighbor was already there looking out the window. Taking a book out of your bag, you sat down, put your seatbelt on and shot off your phone. Not really fond of airplanes, your hands and nails gripped the armrest next to you, while you closed your eyes and waited for the takeoff to end. When the plane was stabilized, the stewardess came back and asked you if you wanted anything to drink. "Yes, some sparkling water please." She nodded and focused on the man seated beside you. You dived back in your book but couldn't help listening to what she was saying. "I'll bring it right away Sir and if you need anything, anything at all I'm at your disposal", she seductively claimed. You raised your eyebrows, surprised of her openly flirt with one of the passengers but didn't look further into it and continued reading. "It would be all", replied the man. Five minutes later, she put your orders in front of you and left abruptly. 'That was weird', you thought.

Another 20 minutes passed by when the man besides you cleared his voice and spoke to you. "I see you don't like planes." You lifted your head and looked beside you. There he was again : Chris Mothafucking Evans. Your eyes widened and you gasped, "Hey" He chuckled and replied, "I was wondering how long it would take you until you noticed that I was your neighbor all along but you were so concentrated in your book and didn't even looked my way once, that I lost patience."

"Sorry, didn't see you. Are you stalking or something? We keep bumping into each other all the time", you joked. He laughed louder this time before denying such accusations. "I could ask you the same thing", he smiled. "Nah, I'm not I swear", you laughed along. Now you understood why the stewardess was such a flirt. "Good. I guess we could take this opportunity and talk, get to know each other since we're gonna work and spend 4 months together", he suggested. "Yeah totally", you managed to reply smoothly. "Oh and thank you again for that lift the other day", he commented. You shook your head and told him it was nothing. "I hope you slept well then." You frowned confused and he chuckled. "You know, you said that you wouldn't sleep well knowing that I would take my car but since you dropped me at the hotel, you must have slept well." You gasped and replied, "You remember that?" "Of course I do", he said and leaned closer. "I told you I could hold my liquor." Having him so close to you, heat and shivers began to slowly creep up your body. Your only reaction was to nod and face your glass of water before taking a large gulp of it. Focused on your drink, you didn't notice Chris's smirk. You spent the rest of the flight talking about your respective lifes. It was nice to get to know the man behind the myth, without all the glam surrounding him, without hiding himself. It only made you fall even more for him. 

Since you were heading to the same place, you and Chris decided to share the cab and drove to the set. When you arrived, the staff showed you your trailer and informed that you were needed for the final fittings regarding your character's clothes. You dropped your things in what was serving you as home for the next few months and immediately headed to the clothing trailer, leaving your stuff for later. You greeted the crew and they gave you the clothes. After the readjustments, you marched towards your trailer when you crossed road with members of the cast. "Hey how are you?", greeted Scarlet, Mark, Jeremy and Robert with a side-hug. "I'm good what about all of you?", you asked with a wide smile. "We're fine", answered Mark. "We heard you had company in the plane", commented Robert. You chuckled and nodded, "Yeah, God news travel fast in here." They laughed and affirmed that they did but mostly because they've seen Chris before bumping into you and he told them you were on the same plane. "Anyway, I've got to go. Don't forget people, Downey town at 7pm", yelled RDJ while going away. "Downey town?", you wondered. "Oh and you too Y/N", he shouted and disappeared at the following corner. Scarlet circled her arm around your shoulder and whispered, "It's Robert's side of the set. He has like 5 trailers so we named it Downey Town. He invited the whole cast for diner." You gasped, "Oh okay. That's really nice." You were arriving at your own trailer and were about to dismiss yourself to take a shower when Scarlet told you she would come get you at 6pm and show you around the set. "Alright, thank you", you said and went inside.

You had two hours before Scarlet would show up, so you took your clothes out of your bag, disposed them in the small closet before grabbing your toiletries and heading towards the shower. Since it was still hot you decided to let your hair dry out naturally, put on a jeans and t-shirt with sneakers and checked your watch. You had exactly 10minutes left and texted your best-friend. A couple of days after the table read, they authorized you to tell your family and close friends that you were casted in the movie, so you immediately called Aaron and informed him of the good news. No need to say that he was beyond happy for you, best friends having the chance to be part of the same cinematic universe.

To Aaron : I've arrived on set. The flight was ok. You're never gonna believe who sat beside me.

From Aaron : Beyoncé?

To Aaron : Ha ha … *I wish tho*. The most righteous person ever…

From Aaron : Beyoncé??!!

To Aaron : Dude…Captain fucking America…well Chris Evans to be precise.

From Aaron : Ohhhhh H-I-M !!!

He knew of your long-time crush about Chris and used every opportunity he had to tease you about it.

To Aaron : Don't start. It was weird at the beginning but then we began talking and he immediately made me feel at ease. He's really nice and his eyes…god his eyes. He's so cute.

From Aaron : 😏😏😏

To Aaron : Alright I've gotta go. RDJ invited everyone to Downey Town. Kisses to the fam. ILY

From Aaron : HE WHATTTT? How come I've never been invited to Downey Town? Anyway, have fun and keep me updated. We love you too. Sam and the girls say hiiiiii.

You chuckled at his last message and shook your head. You opened your door, still looking at your texts and smiling and heard Mackie say, "Someone's happy." You smiled even more and greeted him, really excited to work with him. He and Scarlet showed you around, telling you where to find the make-up trailer, cafeteria and small gym disposed for the cast. "Awesome thanks guys". "You're welcome", answered Scarlet. You arrived at the famous 'Town' and holy shit they weren't kidding, because the place was huge. You were sitting beside Chris Hemsworth and Tom Holland and were enjoying talking to them, since you hadn't had the opportunity to do so. They were telling you the magic feeling of surfing and you listened attentively, captivated by the passion they were putting into their stories. "That sounds amazing." "It really is. You somehow feel free", mentioned Hemsworth. "But besides surfing, Australia is also amazing for their wildlife : koalas, kangaroos, crocodiles, their huge spiders." At the mention of spiders, your face crisped in disgust because you hated spiders. "Seems like Y/N doesn't like spiders", remarked RDJ. You shook your head, "Nah I hate spiders, they creep me out." You heard Tom gasp in shock. "The disrespect. I feel attacked", he said mockingly, to which Mackie rolled his eyes. "Ain't sorry", you replied back with a laugh. "Ohhhhh snap", snickered Mackie proudly and you laughed louder. "Come on Y/N, not you too", sassed back Tom. You only shrugged in amusement and continued talking with other actors around the table. Since it was getting late, everyone went back to their trailers because the following day was the first day of shooting.

Following day

You didn't get much sleep because you were too excited and found yourself at the small gym at the other end of the set to do some stretches. You thought that being that early you would be alone but found some of the actors already working out. "Aren't you brave, waking up so early", said Chris Evans. "I could say the same for you", you teased back. "Ready for your first day?", he asked more seriously. You sighed and declared yes even if you were a little nervous about it all. "I know what it's like. I was a mess on the first day of Captain America : First Avenger, but then it becomes a routine and you will get used to it, you'll see." You nodded, "I hope so." You let him continue his workout while you found a little corner, isolated and planted a mattress on the ground before starting your yoga session. An hour later, you head back to your trailer, took a shower and went to the makeup trailer. You greeted the crew and let them do their magic, while going over the lines for the day.

Elizabeth soon followed and you both talked about what's going on with your lifes since last time you were together. " Your sister got a baby?", she gasped after you revealed it. "Yeah, it's a little boy. He's 3 now." "Congrats for the parents. You must be happy to be an aunt." You smiled, seeing that little monster's face in your mind and replied, "Yeah, he's so cute, already a little rebellious but it's a child right?", you chuckled. "Of course and don't forget you got to be the cool aunt." You nodded and laughed, "That's true. He was no idea what's coming".

"Y/N, five minutes and you're headed to the dressing trailer", called out one of the director's assistant. "Showtime", you breathed out to Lizzie who crossed her fingers for you, "Break a leg." You give her a wide smile and exited. Your first scene was already one were you would have to wear your suit and you couldn't contain your excitement once you put it on. "Wow, it looks amazing, thank you guys", you told the dressing staff. They smiled seeing how happy and beautiful you looked and wished you good look. While marching to the shooting set, you crossed roads with Mason who was dressed in an Iron Man suit. His whistle caught the attention of the people around and you shook your head. "You look amazing", he told you with a wide smile. "Thank you, you don't look so bad yourself." You saw him blush a little and had to bite down your lip to not let the small chuckle escape your mouth. "Iron Man, hein?", you smirked. "Yep, what can I say I am indeed a Genius, billionaire, playboy philanthropist."

Seeing him quote Tony Stark made you laugh loudly and again catch the wandering eyes of the people around. Mason was about to respond when Joe Russo called you. "Sorry have to go." Mason grabbed your hand and looked into your eyes, "Don't forget our training and you'll rock that scene. Good luck." You nodded, cherishing his support and thanked him. The Russo Brothers indicated you the position of the camera angles and their vision for the shoot. You listened to their details attentively and nodded along, saving their instructions in your brain. You walked at your standing point next to the original Avengers and took a deep breath. "And…ACTION". It took four takes for the initial dialogue and 8 takes for the fighting scene to get it in the box. "CUT !", the directors shouted. "Amazing start people. Lunch break before we head back at it, in an hour." You grabbed a bottle of water and saw the cast join you. "You did amazing dear, keep going", complimented RDJ and the others followed his comment with their own encouragements and how awesome your moves were. "Thank you guys, it means a lot", you breathed out with a wide smile. The day went by until late evening.

The days passed and you were getting more at ease with everyone, joining them whenever it was to tease someone or roast. Chris's (Evans) birthday was coming soon and you still had no idea what you would get him. It was hard to find something for someone who already had everything. You began asking discreet the others actors questions about his tastes or funny stories they could tell you. "Why all those questions regarding Chris?", asked once Scarlet with a smug smirk. Your eyes almost popped out of your skull being busted. "What? No, I'm not. Just trying to get to know you", you mumbled not convinced by your own excuse and seeing the face of Scarlet and the others, neither were they. You dropped the questions and tried to come up with something by yourself. One day you were walking beside Chris who asked you if you wanted to go over the lines with him. You agreed and he proposed to work in his trailer. He motioned you to sit down where you wanted and disposed a bottle of water in front of you. "Thanks", you smiled back. He dropped his script and phone on the table in front of both of you before asking you if you didn't mind if he left you for 5 minutes to take a fast shower. You gulp harshly, thoughts of his glorious body overflowing your mind before clearing your throat and replied, "Ehm yeah, no, no problem. You go do that."

He chuckled and fumbled through his dressing before heading at the back of the trailer. You took a gulp of the fresh water to cool you down, when the phone rang. First you thought it was yours but looking at the devices in front of you, you saw that it was Chris' phone. It wasn't your attention to sneak at it but saw his brother's name pop on the notification bar. That's when the idea of asking his brother for a birthday gift came up to you. You quickly grabbed your phone and went through Twitter and finally found Chris' brother's social media.

You hit the DM's button and wrote : "Hello how are you? My name is Y/N. This may sound weir but I'm currently working with Chris on the new Marvel movie. I'm really sorry to bother you and who knows, you probably won't even pay attention to this message but I was wondering if you could help me. I know his birthday is in a couple of weeks and was wondering if you had any idea of what he might like. I'm kinda lost here and really wanted to give him something that I know he will love. Here's my number if you prefer texting. Again sorry if I'm disturbing and I hope you have a nice day."

You were sure he wouldn't reply, probably thinking it was another fangirl, so you didn't made a lot of hopes in it. Chris got out of the shower and seeing your concerned expression he asked, "Everything alright?". You looked up to him and give him a small smile, "Yeah just a little tired is all." "If you want I can go over the lines by myself and let you rest." You shook your head, assuring him that it wasn't necessary. "Don't worry, I also have to go over the lines anyway. I don't know them by heart yet." He nodded and sat in front of you and began working on it right away. When you were done, you headed back to your trailer and checked your phone and saw a text from an unknown number.

Unknown : Hi, I'm fine. What about you? I confess that when I saw the message on Twitter I was skeptical but then I remembered Chris telling me your name and that you joined the production. It's nice to virtually meet you. Regarding me helping you, totally. Text me back whenever you have time. -Scott.

You were squealing in your bed, happy to have some guidance in that matter. You texted him back, thanking him for his reply and wrote down the small list with gift ideas you had so far. He told you that some of them were cool but that Chris already had them or did them, like the one when he was skydiving.

The past few weeks you and Scott hit it off, even texting randomly. He would ask you advice for personal matters and you would do the same. You could say that you were beginning to become friends.

You were currently training with Mason when Kevin Feige stepped inside the room, making everybody stop on what they were doing. "Y/N, can I have a second", the Marvel president said. You cleaned your face and marched towards him, your body slightly shaken, scared of what he had to tell you. "Y/N there has been a change. I'm really sorry to announce you this because you've been doing great in portraying Y/C/N but unfortunately, I'm forced to let you go and recast you." Your mouth opened wide, not believing you were getting fired. "You will still be part of the movie I can guarantee you that but you will be playing a minor character, a tech Shield agent to be exact." "Why?", was the only thing you managed to say. He saw the pain in your teary eyes and slightly bowed his head in shame. "It's not my duty to tell you the circumstances of this change but I can see how painful it is for you. Our biggest executive producer requested the change for someone else.I know this was a life changing opportunity but I had no other choice then agree to it"

You gulp harshly, hurt until the pain was subsided with anger. At this point you didn't care anymore and said, "May I say something even if this might cost my place in the production?" He nodded and you told him how you were feeling. "I understand what you're telling me and even if I shouldn't argue with that because I'm literally no one in the business to say something but it pains me. A lot. I know that one of the goals in the MCU is to promote diversity and including a plus size female playing such an important character with such an arc would have change a lot in the industry. Finally, plus size females would have had a figure, someone representing them and it's gone. It's taken from them."

"I understand your point of view but it will not change the situation. I'm giving you the opportunity to complete your contract by portraying another character. It's up to you now if you still want to do it or not", he replied back. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before exclaiming firmly, "I'll be the best tech Shield agent you'll ever see." He nodded and before he could state something else, the gym doors opened and you saw her enter the building. Goosebumps, the bad kind, raised all over your body and you breathed harshly. "Hiiii, have you heard the good news? I'm playing Y/C/N after all", spat Rebecca proudly. "Congratulations", you hissed back in fake kindness. You could see the mischief in her eyes and it made your stomach churn. "Mason", called out Kevin Feige. He sprinted to your group and heard the president tell him he would have to prepare Rebecca as fast as possible for the role. He frowned and looked back at you and saw you trying to hold it together in front of them. He was about to ask why when Feige cut him and said, "That would be all !" Mason nodded while clenching his teeth and Feige exited the room but not before handing you the new script, with your new lines. Rebecca stepped closer and whispered in your ear, "I told you, you wouldn't see the last of me. You see I made myself a promise. The promise that I would turn your life into a living hell and I think it's starting just fine." She winked at you before seductively sashaying over Mason. You were on the verge of crying and had to exit the room quickly. Mason shot you a pained and apologetic look seeing you exit the room before his features hardened once facing Rebecca who had a victorious smirk plastered on her face. "Let's get to work !", spat Mason rather harshly towards her.

You had no idea how, what was supposed to be the best moment of your life turned so shitty in matter of seconds. Little did you know that it was only the beginning.

* gifs not mine, credit to owner*

PERMANENT TAG LIST : @arrowswithwifi @poetic-pixie @theshortegg @kyber-hearts-and-stardust-souls @prettybubblesintheair @yafriendlyfangirl @marshmallow-witch @ms-cellanies @the-feckless-wonder @cfisher290 @thefangirltheycallviolet @river-fics @lilulo-12 @fanfictionrecommendations-com @spetzerfehn @angieptt @wayward-timetravel-collecter @ashley17jacobs @lokithedancingqueen @wildsoul1221 @introvertedsin @robertconradjr @francezka10 @titty-teetee

SERIES TAG LIST : @halee-bear @sanellv @alwaysenjoythelifeyoulive @teatimewithhiddles @mooniessuniverse @meggie-mouse-28 @krissyq @moviefan97 @morningstar09

[echoes-of-realities]

be my fire in the cold (and I'll be waiting by the mistletoe) - 2/25

* * *

[Fanfiction] // [ao3]

[Previous Chapter] // [Next Chapter]

Chapter Summary: Rachel still doesn’t quite understand what an understudy is despite the fact that she is one; Brittany gets caught blushing far more often than she’s used to.

Chapter 2: there were sweeties and chocolates and toys and lights

//

The matinee goes far more smoothly than most people thought it would, but it’s not that it went well that surprises Brittany, it’s that people thought it wouldn’t. She doesn’t really make it a habit to listen when the company gossips, partly because there’s always a lot of mean gossip surrounding her and Mike and Tina since they’re all principals and Brittany just prefers to ignore it all, and partly because Mercedes always keeps her well informed anyways, usually when she’s changing Brittany into her costume or helping with her hair and makeup and Brittany has no choice but to listen. She when she hears people marvelling at how well Santana’s handled the show, despite the fact that she was literally only hired two days ago, she’s more than a little surprised that people are surprised.

She’s comfortably close with Quinn and Artie, not enough that they seek each other’s company outside of the show, but enough that she doesn’t mind having lunch with them between shows. And it’s because she doesn’t mind having lunch with them that she knows Santana Lopez is more than qualified to run the show, maybe too qualified if the copy of her resume Artie snuck them was anything to go by; and beyond that, she knows that Tina and Mike trust her completely, so she was never too worried about the change in production stage manager. Based on the complete and utter surprise of most people as they file into one of the larger rehearsal room for a quick meeting, Brittany realizes that she’s in a minority.

She spots Mercedes and Sam giggling together and blushing, so she heads over to them and collapses onto the floor beside them. None of the children are at the meeting, they’re all getting lunch with their parents and friends before the show at five, and though the meeting isn’t mandatory for the teenagers, there’s a couple of them gossiping in a corner. The entire rest of the company and all of the department heads, along with most of their departments too, are squished into the room. The mirrors lining the walls make it look like there are even more people than there actually are, and Brittany knows how nerve-racking it can be to stand in front of so many people with the mirrors multiplying them tenfold, but Santana looks calm and collected as her and Quinn break away from the small team of stage managers and stagehands in the corner to address the room.

It’s a typical meeting, and they go over some minor changes that Santana’s suggested to make backstage less congested during a couple scene changes, and despite the slight grumbling throughout the company, who like their routines perhaps too much, Brittany finds herself nodding along. They’re all changes that Brittany can easily see making the flow backstage so much smoother, and she briefly wonders why they haven’t always been doing it, but then she remembers their old production stage manager and how absentminded Holly can sometimes be and she’s not all that surprised. Their old production stage manager was a little all over the place, to say the least, and while Holly is an amazing director, but she doesn’t quite have the focused, meticulous, mechanical brain needed for stage managing. It’s refreshing to have a production stage manager that, despite having stepped foot in the theatre for the very first time about forty-eight hours ago, obviously seems to know what she’s doing.

The topic changes as Santana and Quinn address some of the dance corps, and Brittany finds herself tuning out of the conversation in favour of staring at Santana. She should probably be paying attention, but Santana does this cute little furrowed brow thing when someone interrupts her and Brittany kind of wants to smooth it out. She also talks with her hands a lot, and Brittany finds her eyes drawn to the movement of her arms as she gestures around or fiddles with her notebook. She’s completely lost to admiring Santana’s quiet grace in her movements when dark eyes catch on hers suddenly and something jolts up her spine, starting near her tailbone and tingling up towards the base of her skull as she sits up a little taller. She thinks maybe Santana’s just scanning the crowd and Brittany happened to see her when she glanced in Brittany’s general direction, but Santana’s eyes linger unmistakably on hers and it makes heat crawl, hot and prickling, under her skin until she’s pretty sure she’s blushing all the way down to her bellybutton. It’s been a very long time since Brittany got caught staring at a pretty girl, and she desperately pretends that her complexion doesn’t allow everyone to see exactly how fiercely she’s blushing.

Mercedes nudges her with her arm, smirking deeply as she glances between Santana and her, and Brittany curses herself for getting caught staring not just by Santana, but by her best friend as well. She’s pretty sure that she hasn’t felt this embarrassed to be caught staring at a girl since she was only questioning her sexuality in high school, and it doesn’t help that she knows that Mercedes is going to give her the third degree and relentlessly tease her as soon as they’re alone in her dressing room before the evening show. Mercedes continues to smirk at her even as Brittany resolutely refuses to acknowledge her; the worst thing about this is that she won’t even be able to escape from her best friend’s teasing after she leaves the theatre considering that Mercedes’ bedroom is about fifteen feet from her own.

She refocuses on the conversation as soon as she feels like she’s not about to burst into flames and Santana is asking if there’s any questions. Quinn winces beside her, as does half the company, while the only person who ever has ‘questions’ shoots her hand into the air, almost before Santana finishes talking. A wave of stifled groans goes through the company as Santana points at Rachel, whose arm is ramrod straight; Brittany’s been in ballet for almost as long as she’s been walking, and even her posture isn’t as straight as Rachel’s arm when she has a question.

“Yes, I was wondering if you have given any thought to changing the cast lineups to include more of the under-appreciated talent in this room. I would be willing to offer—”

“I’m sorry,” Santana interrupts, looking politely annoyed, “You are?”

Rachel draws herself up with an affronted air, and this time the company doesn’t try even hide their collective groan. “Rachel Berry, Marie’s understudy. I’m sure you’ve heard of me already.”

Santana glances at Quinn in barely concealed confusion, but Quinn just widens her eyes and subtly shakes her head.

“My talents, and I am sure you must be well aware of them, are wasted unless I am on stage in the spotlight,” Rachel continues without prompting. “My star shines too bright and it is a misuse of my talents to keep them hidden away in a lowly understudy roll—”

“Do you— Do you know what an understudy is?” Santana asks, her bewildered tone completely betraying her polite expression.

“Of course I know what an understudy is,” Rachel says haughtily, “As I’m sure everyone here knows, I was on Broadway in the prestigious revival of Funny Girl.”

“Yeah, for like a second,” Brittany mutters. Beside her, Mercedes and Sam snort and choke back their laughter.

Rachel continues to ramble, and Santana continues to look adorably baffled before she finally blinks out of her daze. “Look,” she interrupts loudly, waiting until Rachel awkwardly trails off, “I didn’t do the casting, I have no clue how well you dance, but I trust that Holly casted the correct people for the job, and I’m more than certain Tina’s earned her spot. And besides that, I have nothing to do with Tina’s ability to perform on any given day, and unless she calls in sick or injured, you will not be going on as Marie. As is standard of any understudy.”

“Yes, but—” Rachel starts. Brittany meets Tina’s eyes across the heads of people, and the pure, unfiltered annoyance in them as she rolls them at Brittany makes her bite down, almost painfully, on her lip so she doesn’t giggle too loud.

“No buts,” Santana says, her voice slowly growing more curt and clipped, “this is how shows are run. You are the understudy, you only go on if the principal cannot. Shows have done this for like, literally, a century. And I don’t know why you don’t know this, or why you seem to think I don’t understand how theatre works and will just put you on whenever you feel like it. But I have a feeling you aren’t going on unless Tina comes down with the bubonic plague.”

Rachel continues to argue, starting to criticize Santana’s running of the show and her experience, and as Rachel starts to move on to Santana’s personal character, Brittany can tell Santana is starting to lose the calm, collected exterior she’s had all meeting. Brittany leans back in her chair and surveys the room, sensing the rest of the company starting to shift around and glance at each other, and waiting for her opening. Sure, she hates Rachel as much as the next sane person, and she’s usually really good at just zoning her out, but she forces herself to pay attention to whatever is coming out of Rachel’s mouth because Santana’s far too cute to lose her temper in front of the entire company on just her second day.

The next time Rachel takes a breath to continue her rambling, Brittany tilts her head and dons her practiced look of confusion. “Does anyone else hear that? It sound like a cat getting its temperature taken,” she calls, just loud enough to be heard by the company, “All I can hear is screaming.”

There’s a small wave of chuckles that go throughout the room, and a small wave of oh it’s just Brittany being Brittany eye rolls too, but it shocks Rachel enough that she stops talking, her mouth freezing half open. Quinn takes the moment to quickly clap her hands together and dismiss everyone, and Rachel’s complaints are lost to a crowd of people quickly standing and trying to escape the room.

Brittany barely notices, because Santana’s amused and relieved dark eyes have landed on hers, and Brittany’s stomach flips over as Santana offers her a small smile, mouthing thank you across the room.

Santana has dimples and her nose scrunches up when she smiles, and Brittany’s pretty sure she’s already a goner.

//

The evening show goes even better than the matinee, and though there’s some slight confusion at the top of the first act, by the time intermission rolls around the backstage traffic is far less congested than usual thanks to Santana’s suggestions. Brittany can’t help the touch of smugness that colours her smile as she heads back to her dressing room while she listens to the gossip, which has changed from how surprised everyone is with Santana not completely failing to how impressed they are with her improvements. Sure, it’s not like the changes were Brittany’s own ideas or anything, but she feels like one of the only people who never doubted Santana for a second, and she’s proud that Santana’s proved them all wrong in less than twelve hours.

As soon as she reaches her dressing room, Mercedes is already there waiting for her. She helps Brittany out of her costume and tiara, before carefully unpinning her hair even though she doesn’t have to, while Brittany fights to peel her bodysuit and tights off, tossing them in the general direction of her tiny closet before carelessly peeling off the tape around her toes and dunking her feet in the bucket of ice by her couch. She hisses at the instant relief, and Mercedes just laughs and shakes her head.

“I gotta drop Sam off at his apartment a little early today,” Mercedes says, “Do you want me to swing around and pick you up after?” Brittany nods quickly; she ices her feet after almost every show, but the cold never fails to shock her body and steal her ability to speak. Mercedes tosses her the sweater she wore to the theatre, and Brittany quickly pulls it over her head, shivering as the cold seems to creep along her veins. Mercedes starts to head for the door, but suddenly stops and glances back at Brittany with a wicked smile. “Don’t think you’re getting out of talking about what happened at the meeting today, Britt-Britt,” she teases. Brittany groans and, despite the cold, she feels heat crawl under her skin again. Mercedes chuckles at her and waves her goodbyes as leaves, leaving the door cracked open. As soon as she’s gone, Brittany leans forward for her phone, quickly lighting it up to check her messages. There’s a couple promotional emails and a notification from instagram, but nothing from her mom, and she has to remind herself that no news is good news.

Movement from the hallway catches her eye and Brittany glances at the door, only spotting a flash of black as someone walks past. She briefly hopes it’s Santana, partially because she wants to talk to her and congratulate on the shows today, and partially because she wants to feel that same bright lifting feeling she did last night when she showed up in her dressing room doorway, but mostly because she has something to give her.

As soon as her teeth start chattering she realizes that the ache of cold has been replaced by the numb feeling that means she probably left her feet in the ice too long, and she quickly draws them out to dry them and pull on her warmest pair of socks. She takes her time wiping her makeup off and slipping into her comfiest and most worn pair of sweats just as she hears a knock at the door. She calls her invitation and hears the door creak open as she turns to greet her visitor, fighting down the flash of hope that curls beneath her sternum, which proves fruitless when she sees that it is Santana standing there just like she hoped. She’s wearing a cute leather jacket, a red scarf looped loosely around her neck, looking ready to head home for the evening, but what really catches Brittany’s attention is the small smiling playing on Santana’s lips.

“No banging shoes tonight?” Santana asks in lieu of greeting.

Brittany grins. “Wasn’t on the schedule,” she replies with a teasing shrug, “I didn’t work them too hard tonight.” Santana grins and hovers in the doorway, and it’s only then that Brittany notices the notebook in her hands. “You doing notes tonight?” she asks.

Santana starts a little and blinks away her surprise, seeming a little surprised by the notebook in her hands for a moment before she recovers. “Oh, god no, I just came down to see Tina quickly,” she laughs, “I barely had time to breathe during the show, let alone focus on doing any notes.” She holds up the notebook with a small smile. “Tina just gave me this in celebration of my first official show. It’s kind of a tradition.”

Brittany grins. “That’s cute,” she says. “It must be nice having people at the theatre you already know.”

Santana nods and her smile turns fond and a little nostalgic. “Tina and I were roommates all throughout college,” she explains, “And then she started dating Mike in our third year, and they’ve been nauseating adorable and loved up ever since.”

“They’ve been dating for that long?”

Santana laughs, leaning against the doorframe. “Oh yeah. If you think they’re bad now, you should have seen them when they just had crushes on each other through our second year. Adorable? Absolutely. Annoying oblivious? Definitely.” Brittany giggles. Tina and Mike are the most stable couple she knows, inside the company and out, but now she kind of wishes she could have known them before they got together. “They’ve been my best friends ever since,” Santana says, and though she rolls her eyes a little Brittany can see the fondness crinkling her eyes and tugging at her lips.

“That’s sweet,” Brittany says.

Santana shrugs a little and brushes it off with an embarrassed, “Yeah, well,” before straightening up a little. “Are you heading out soon?” Brittany barely has time to blink before Santana gets this bright, breathless, wide-eyed look and she starts talking again. “I mean— Because I’m on my way and Tina’s already gone so. I figured I’d check with you and— You know, see if you needed company,” she finishes lamely.

Brittany’s not quite sure if there’s a more adorable person on the planet, and she quickly assures Santana that, yes, she was just leaving too. She gathers her coat and shrugs it on, tugging a hat over her ears and sliding into her sneakers before heading to the door, collecting her wallet and phone from the coffee table on her way. Santana takes a step backwards down the hall to let Brittany out and she dig her keys out of her jacket pocket so she can lock the door.

She’s just about to turn the key when she remembers the whole reason she was hoping Santana would stop by in the first place. “Wait!” she says suddenly, shoving the door back open with a little more enthusiasm than strictly necessary, the sound of the doorjamb protesting the harsh movement echoing throughout the dressing room. “I have something for you!”

Santana watches her curiously from the doorway as she rummages around on the vanity in the dark until her fingers close around what she was looking for. She quickly crosses the room again, and Santana steps out into the light of the hallway while Brittany hides her tiny gift behind her back. “I, uh, saw this today and I got it so, um, so you have something to remember your first official show by,” she rambles, quickly biting onto her lip so more words don’t escape her as she hands the gift to Santana. It’s a tiny plastic figurine she saw through a toy shop window that morning on her way to the theatre, a flat circle of painted snow with the Sugar Plum Fairy dancing in the middle, surrounded by Marie in her white nightgown and the Prince in his soldier uniform. She’s pretty sure it’s supposed to be an ornament, but she cut the ribbon off so now it’s just a simple figurine.

Santana takes it carefully from Brittany, as if it’s made of fragile glass and not toylike plastic. Her fingers trace delicately over the dancing fairy and Brittany suddenly feels heat crawl and creep under her skin. Usually she’s not this prone to blushing, if anything she prides herself on making others blush, but Santana must have some innate connection to the blood vessels in her cheeks because they always seem to be super aware of her presence.

“I know it’s— Kind of dumb or childish or whatever,” she mumbles. She’s always been told by that too many people that, even if she is a principal dancer with one of the most prestigious dance companies in North America, but she understands how important it is to rediscover how to have fun; life’s far too hard and messy and cruel to take yourself too seriously, and Brittany’s found that sometimes the only thing you can do is have fun and laugh. But people have made her feel insecure about it for so long, all the way back in middle school when having sleepovers and playing pretend with her little sister suddenly wasn’t cool anymore, that it makes her nervous to drop her caution around people other than her sister or Mercedes or Sam because they almost always disappoint her.

“No,” Santana says quickly, shaking her head sharply, and when she glances up at Brittany her eyes are shining and bright with something Brittany can’t name. “It’s perfect,” she whispers, “Thank you.”

The heat in Brittany’s cheeks continues to prickle her skin, but as she kicks one foot behind her other she already knows it has less to do with nervous embarrassment now and more to do with how bashful-giddy she feels when Santana directs that smile at her. “You’re welcome,” she murmurs, “You deserve to remember today. You did amazing.”

Santana’s eyes never leave hers even as her smile widens and she whispers her thanks again. Brittany feels too much all at once and fumbles with her keys before quickly turning to lock her door, finding Santana’s eyes still on her when she turns back around. “Shall we?” Brittany asks, gesturing down the hallway.

Santana nods quickly, finally glancing away to look at the figurine in her hand before tucking it carefully in her jacket pocket.

Brittany finds it really easy to talk to Santana as they head out of the theatre, and the earlier heat creeping under her skin starts to fade as they navigate the halls. Santana can make Brittany laugh really easily and Brittany kind of really, really likes that, but Brittany quickly finds that what she likes even more is making Santana smile, because Brittany’s never felt more accomplished than when her deadpan makes Santana’s dimples crease her cheeks, and even better than that is saying something that makes Santana toss her head back as bright carefree giggles spill forth from her.

The make it to the front lobby far sooner than Brittany wants to, and as soon as they step out into the chilly air, her phone buzzes with a text from Mercedes telling her that she’s here just as a dark SUV pulls up. “That’s my ride,” Brittany says. They both pause, still smiling at each other, until Brittany shakes herself out of her daze and whispers a quick bye as she heads for Mercedes’ SUV.

“Hey,” Santana calls just as Brittany’s hand lands on the handle of the passenger door, “Thanks, for today. You know, at the meeting.”

Brittany feels something warm and bright and fond curl in her stomach. The feeling isn’t something she’s ever really felt before, but it reminds her of camping with her parents to celebrate the first time she ever won gold a competition, when she would huddle closer to the fire until it would feel like its warmth was blooming from within her cheeks and and chest instead of from the fire itself. “You’re welcome,” she murmurs, and despite the rush of the city around them Brittany feels a little bit like it’s just them on the sidewalk for a moment. “Goodnight, Santana,” she says softly.

Those dimples crease Santana’s cheeks and makes Brittany’s breath hitch just a little. “Goodnight, Brittany.”