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thran-duils · 3 years

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Lost In Zero Gravity (P.8)

Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Eight) Summary: Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers. Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 2,685 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior

Author’s Note: **MUCH ANGST**

Part Seven || Part Nine || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Instead of going to his office, Tony marched straight to Steve’s without so much as a fleeting greeting for anyone who he passed on the way. He barged in and closed the door loudly behind him.

Steve looked up from his laptop, pausing for a moment. He saw the look on Tony’s face, “Something wrong?”

Stopping in front of his desk, Tony glowered down at him. “I don’t know. You tell me after I tell you about the interesting question Y/N had for me today.”

“What was that?” Steve asked, looking back at his laptop, clicking away on the keyboard. He seemed to relax when he heard it was about Y/N.

“She asked who Cecile was,” Tony stated. Steve stopped then, his fingers hovering over the keys, suddenly interested again. Tony gave a wry chuckle. “Oh, that got your attention, did it? You suddenly give a shit now, don’t you?”

Steve’s hands left his keyboard, his face screwed up in confusion. “How did she—”

“You slipped up,” Tony pointed at him accusingly, running his tongue over his bottom lip. He came to sit in the chair across from Steve’s desk, sitting back, staring at him. “You called her Cecile in bed.” Steve looked like he had been slapped. “Do you have no recollection of this?”

“No,” Steve admitted reluctantly.

“Hmm… well, it apparently happened.”

“Did you—”

“No. No, I didn’t tell her,” Tony interrupted forcibly. “I left her at the apartment. She’s busy with the cat.” Tony exhaled sharply, running his hand over his face, distressed. “Did… did I not tell you to keep your marriage shit out of it? Didn’t I?” Steve threw his hands out and started to defend himself and Tony pressed on, “I did! I distinctly remember it! I know things are not great right now with her but if you can’t keep a lid on it, what are we even doing messing around? And yeah, I say we because I’m tied in with this if you haven’t noticed!”

Steve clicked his jaw, pushing back from his desk, hands planted on the arms of his chair, silent.

As the silence stretched on, Tony relented in his anger slightly. His voice was less harsh, “I mean, come on, man. That’s a rookie mistake.”

“We’re trying to work on it,” Steve finally said. His voice was sad when he said, “I haven’t told you she’s pregnant.” That piqued Tony’s interest. “Yeah. A couple months along.” He gave a humorless laugh and said, “But you know the bitch of it is I don’t know if it’s mine. Or… if it’s that… little fuck.”

“I’m not sure what she sees in him,” Tony offered up, trying to be comforting.

“She’s always had a thing for younger guys. Plus, he doesn’t come with all the strings of marriage,” Steve said sourly.

“What are you going to do?”

“What can I do other than let it play out and then get a DNA test?”

“And… if it’s not yours?”

Steve sighed loudly, throwing his hands out again. He looked defeated. “I don’t know, Tony. I… I don’t want to divorce her. There’s still something to salvage, I know it. And I’m not gonna kick her ass to the curb.”

“I didn’t expect you to.”

“I just… I’m trying to take it day by day. I’m sorry I fucked up with Y/N. I really don’t even remember it. I was high as hell the last time we had sex. It must have just… slipped out,” Steve said. He chewed on his bottom lip, staring off into nothing, Tony silent as well. When Steve looked back at him he said, “I’ll do better.”

Tony apologized immediately, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to just come in here and ream you. I mean, I did. But I should have asked first.”

“I haven’t been exactly forthcoming about it.”

“No, no you haven’t. You could do better at that too.”

Steve nodded in agreement and asked seriously, his hand running over his beard, “Y/N was really bothered by it?”

“I don’t think so. She brushed it off when she saw my reaction to the question. I think she was just curious more than anything. It was an innocent question I think.”

“Well, it won’t happen again,” Steve said firmly. “I’ll make sure of it.”

<><><>

Something was tugging on the other end of the lights that you were trying to hang up. You already knew who it was, and you turned, scolding immediately, “Luna!”

Luna was batting at the end of the orange Halloween lights and when you said her name, she immediately stopped, booking it away towards the couch. She got up on it and sat down, her tail swishing.

“Don’t glare at me! You’re the one being naughty! You have so many damn toys and you are trying to sabotage me!”

She laid down then, turning away from you. Rolling your eyes, you resumed decorating. You loved that cat but you also wanted to strangle her sometimes.

In the middle of hanging up little bats, you heard the key in the lock. You stilled, seeing Steve walk into the apartment. He was carrying a small bag and his eyes ran over the living room seeing all the decorations you had hung up. A small smirk appeared on his face as he closed the door behind him, locking it.

“What?” you asked.

“Looks like you’re going all out. Halloween isn’t until next month.”

“It’s September 30th,” you pointed out. “Who decorates for a holiday days beforehand?”

“Touche, ma’am,” Steve joked coming over towards you. He stopped to reach out and scratch Luna behind the ears.

“Can you put some up higher?” you asked him, gesturing to continue the swarm of bats you had put on the wall.

Steve placed the bag down and came over to you, taking the rest of the small stack of them. You rolled the tape handing each piece to him and he worked in tandem to place them on the wall, continuing your pattern.

“I’ve almost finished my 31 days of Halloween list too,” you told him.

He cocked an eyebrow and asked, “And what exactly is that?”

“You must never have fun,” you jested, handing him another piece of rolled tape. “It’s a list of horror or Halloween related movies for every day in October. I’ll send you guys the list so you can plan visits around it because I will not be missing a day. And if you don’t like a movie, well, then just don’t come on that day.”

“Wowww,” Steve drew out, chuckling.

Shrugging, you told him, “I’m serious. One hundred percent.”

He still laughed as he finished putting up the last couple bats. “Noted, dear.”

Stepping back, you nodded in approval at the wall. “It looks good. That was the last part! I can’t wait to see all the lights I hung up at nighttime! It’ll set a really nice ambience.”

“I can see that,” Steve responded, looking around at all the strings of lights. He looked amused by the sight of it. His eyes met yours again and he said, “Way to be festive.”

“Always. Just wait until Christmas.”

That drew a laugh out of him and then he said, “I did come here for a reason though.”

Moving past you, Steve went for the bag and picked it up, holding it out to you.

“What’s this?” you asked him, taking it from him cautiously.

“A gift,” Steve told you.

“Christmas isn’t for months.”

Steve chuckled, “Consider it an early one.”

You opened it, taking out a small box. Upon opening the box, you found a key and realized immediately what it was. It was the key to the apartment. Only took them a month and a half.

“Trust me enough now, I suspect,” you commented, looking up at him.

Steve nodded, “That was the stipulation wasn’t it?”

“Sure was…” you said, trailing off. You walked past him with the box and went to the door to grab your keyring that was hanging there. You slipped the key onto it and replaced it. Turning back, you said, “Glad I was impressive enough to earn it.”

Steve came up to you, a tickled look on his face at your wisecrack. He leaned down, kissing you on the forehead.

“Good job.”

“Thanks,” you returned. “Tony too busy to be here for the ceremony?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Well, you get some brownie points. Speaking of brownies, I did make some. Want one?”

You moved out from around Steve, not waiting for him to answer. You smiled to yourself, your back to him feeling the weight of being locked in one place taken from you now that you had a key. You could not wait to be able to go out without an escort. Freedom was at your fingertips.

<><><>

Tony was gripping your waist and hip tightly as you rode him on your bed. They had come over late in the night and it was early, 4:30am. Steve had gotten out of bed to get showered and clean himself up. Tony had elected to stay in bed and have another go at it, which you were not complaining about. They had not come over for a week having been away on a trip and you had missed them.

You barely heard the door open, thinking it was Steve coming back from the shower. But, you noticed Tony freeze, his eyes drawn to the door, widening alarmingly. His hands tightened dangerously, and you stared down at him confused, stalling.

“No, do—” Tony started to say loudly.

You barely turned your head before someone grabbed your hair, dragging you off of him across the bed. You tumbled to the ground, looking up terrified seeing a dark-haired woman looking wild, her eyes filled with hatred.

“Alessia!” you heard Tony shout from near the bed as the woman dove at you.

Your vision was obstructed by a fist hitting your face. You cried out in pain, trying to curl up into yourself.

“Bitch!” you heard her yell.

Another hit landed but with less force, and you heard her being drug away, her shouting incomprehensively. Nervously, you uncovered your face, shaking like a leaf.

Eyesight clearing, you saw Tony dragging her away.

“Alessia!” He shouted again as she fought ferociously against his iron grip around her arms, his hands locked together against her chest.

“You fucking absolute bastard!” she shrieked, trying to get away from his grasp. “Is this where you were last Monday night? You missed your daughter’s preschool Thanksgiving play to fuck a whore? And one of the first things you do when you get back from a week long trip is come here? Let me go! Let me GO, Tony! Get your fucking hands off of me!”

She tore away from his grip when he loosened up and shoved him into the doorway, before slapping him with all the force she could muster across the face. Tony ate the hit, turning back with his jaw clenched but he did little to respond beyond glaring daggers at her.

Steve was there outside in the hall looking stricken, his hair wet from his shower but dressed. Aleissa let out a disgusted laugh seeing him.

“You too?” she spat at him. She pointed dangerously at him and said, “You both can fucking rot for all I care! Cecelia will fucking know about this, you piece of shit!”

Alessia’s rage was directed towards Tony again as she spat, “I can put up with the running around on me because god knows I’m not a saint. But you cannot start neglecting your family! I won’t fucking put up with it!”

She took off down the hall and Tony swore loudly, turning back to the room going towards the ground for his pants. His eyes ran around the room, discombobulated. His eyes landed on you and his mouth fell open, like he wanted to say something, but he could not form the words.

“Go! I got it!” Steve exclaimed at Tony quickly, gesturing him out the door.

Tony only hesitated for a moment before throwing his pants on and taking off out of the room after her.

Steve came to you quickly, his fingers brushing your cheek. You winced and he retracted his hand. “Fuck,” he hissed.

“What the hell?” you demanded, tears spilling over. The shock was wearing off, you feeling the pain in your jaw and cheek now.

Steve sighed heavily, telling you in explanation, “The wife.”

Terrence was in the doorway then and Steve grabbed the throw blanket from the end of the bed, tossing it around you to cover you.

“What the fuck?” Steve shouted at Terrence, over his shoulder as he tucked the blanket around you. “Why did you let her in here?”

“She had a goddamn gun pointed at me, boss! I didn’t want to cause a scene!”

“You don’t think this a scene?” Steve exclaimed, gesturing wildly at you.

“I meant in the hall. And I also didn’t wanna get shot! She’s psychotic!”

“Get the fuck out,” Steve snapped at him. “Go get Tony. Alessia is probably causing another scene down in the lobby and I don’t trust Tony and Daryl to be able to handle it by themselves! Especially with Tony half fucking dressed.”

Terrence did as he was ordered.

“Come on. Come up here,” Steve encouraged you, helping you stand and sitting you on the edge of the bed. He was trying to be calm, but you could pick up on the edge in his voice. “Sit tight.”

He left the room too. You sat on the bed, grasping the blanket tightly around you. Your breath was shuddering, trying to process what had just happened. Steve came back with a towel. Sitting on the bed next to you, he raised it and pressed it to your jaw softly. You realized he had put some ice cubes in the towel tied off with a rubber band to make a makeshift ice pack.

You should not need an ice pack because you got punched in the face, you thought, your shock of the situation melting away to anger.

You jerked away from him and he gave you a confused look. Tears came again then and you took the ice pack from him.

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” Steve said sincerely. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“You know where this wouldn’t have happened? Back home!” you spat at him, meeting his eyes. His expression hardened and you frankly did not care. “But no, you two forced me to come to this stupid apartment! I would’ve been safe back at the brothel!”

“Now, Y/N—” Steve started to say, sounding very much like he was going to try to talk you down, but you cut him off.

“No! You know I’m right!”

“Y/N—”

“Just get out!” you shouted at him, losing your temper. Steve was staring at you in disbelief, and he was not moving. You repeated with more force, standing up in a fury, holding the blanket tightly around you. “Leave me be! Get out!” You tossed the icepack onto your bedside table. You dove for Tony’s clothes, wallet, and his cell phone, storming towards the door and tossing them out into the hallway. You could not lock them completely out of the apartment since they had keys but goddamnit you were going to have your space in your bedroom.

You whipped back around to find Steve still sitting on the bed, stunned. You were openly crying now, and you hysterically told him, pointing out the door, “Are you fucking deaf, Steve? Get the hell out! I don’t want to fucking see either of you!”

He stood then finally, controlled, masking the shock he had displayed moments before. He walked towards you and the door, his eyes boring into you. You met him with the same ferocious gaze he was giving you as he passed, his eye contact not breaking with yours. As soon as he was clear of the door, you moved, and slammed it close behind him.

The lock fell into place.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @icant-hangout-imdrumming @oceaniamaddness @multifandom-superlover @imsonick @holl2712 @here4thefanfics

#tony stark x reader #steve rogers x reader #dark tony stark #dark steve rogers #dark marvel #mob tony stark #mob steve rogers #dark marvel fic #my shit

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morkleemelon · 4 years

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Jet Lag✈️

1) you and Mark are both idols and you're on video call from different countries and you miss each other. You surprise Mark secretly visiting Korea and you then surprise him in his room and you guys cuddle and stuff ^~^

@smolninja thank you for your request! I hope it’s everything you wanted! I’m sorry for the delay, I had so many issues with Tumblr and accidentally deleted it when I was like 70% done it was so sad. Nonetheless, I really liked writing it! Enjoy :)

Warnings: mild swearing

Word Count: 3k

Genre: Fluff, slight angst

Fem Idol!reader x Mark Lee

The set up: you’re in a 7 member kpop group called Girl Trouble and you’ve just finished the first concert of your Japanese tour. We’re pretending corona doesn’t exist :) The general public does not know that you are dating Mark Lee

-----

You feel the van come to a stop as flashing lights bloom from outside the tinted windows, waking you from your much needed sleep.

“We’re at the hotel y/n,” your bandmate, Yeeun, informs, fixing her hair in her phone camera to make sure she was ready to be photographed.

The excited cheers coming from the street bring you out of your sleepy stupor and you stretch your arms above you in a big yawn.

“How do I look?” you ask Nayoo, your best friend in the group who’s sitting next to you, touching up her concealer.

“Perfect as always y/n, duh,” she replied, playfully winking as she put her stuff away.

“Ok I’m opening the door!” you warn as you grab the handle and take a deep breath, putting on your best smile.

Swinging the door open, you’re met with an uproar of fans calling out your name and a storm of camera flashes eager to capture your latest look. It was your group’s first time in Japan so the fans were especially excited to finally have the chance to see you.

*Click click click click*

You stepped out of the car as gracefully as you could, smile never faltering as you showed off your pearly white teeth and prize-winning dimples. Brushing your hair back slightly as you walk, you tease your new gold earrings as a subtle endorsement to the brand. Your members following suit, you wave to the crowd and make your way to the entrance, nodding at a few fansites you recognized.

- - -

Throwing yourself onto the bed, your freshly showered hair promptly soaks through the comforter but you couldn’t care less.

“Ugh...,” you sighed, melting into the plush goodness of the hotel mattress, “I’m so goddamn tired.”

If only he were here with you...

“Oh!” you gasp, head shooting up from your now wet pillow, “I promised I’d call!”. You rolled off the bed and scrambled to find your phone in your bag, suddenly wide awake.

“You’re calling loverrr boyyyy?” Nayoo teased, dragging out the letters because she knew how much you hated it.

“Stopppp!” you whined, throwing your soggy pillow at her and trying to hide the growing blush on your cheeks.

Frantically unlocking your phone, you scroll through your contacts to find your boyfriend, heart racing with anticipation. It’s been a few weeks since you’ve seen Mark and you know it’ll be a few more until you have the chance. You promised each other to call whenever you could, but with NCT dream having a new comeback and Girl Trouble was starting to be really popular, there was only so much you could do. On top of that, it was stressful trying to keep your relationship a secret with all of the prying eyes around you and Mark’s intense fan base. Nevertheless, you’ve been going strong for about 8 months now you know that everything, every struggle, is worth it because of how much you truly love him.

Calling: Baby💕💋🦁...

You don’t bother to fix your makeup-less face and frizzy hair because you know that he’ll say you’re beautiful.

You smile at the thought of him as the FaceTime chimes ring.

*whoom*

“Marky!” you whisper cry, heart racing with excitement as you see his face for the first time in days.

“Baby!” Mark squeals back in the same tone, losing himself to giggles as you both giddily recover from the excitement of getting to see each other. You can hear the sound of voices mocking him in the background and Chenle’s piercing scream cuts through the audio.

“How have you been, baby?” you ask adoringly, ignoring the dreamies and look longingly at the boy in round glasses and his favorite grey hoodie.

“Shut up guys! I’m trying to talk to y/n!” he yells back at them, met with only more mocking and screaming. Sighing and giving up, he turns back to the camera, “Ah you know, I’ve been alright. We’ve been pretty busy with practice. I’m actually at practice right now if you can’t tell”. He pans the camera to the other members of dream who are clearly only taking a break because Mark made them stop for this phone call.

Guilt grips at you as you realize how you were probably inconveniencing them. After all, it was getting late and they all have to stay even later now because of you.

“Oh... if now’s not a good time we can always try tomorrow,” you offer, smiling slightly but not enough to hide your disappointment and guilt.

“Aw baby I’m sorry,” Mark soothes, “don’t worry about us I didn’t mean it like that. I missed you so much and these guys can spare a few minutes it’s fine”.

“I wish you were here, Mark. Or I was there,” you whisper, lying down on your bed once again. Placing your phone in front of you, it’s almost, almost, as if he were there lying with you.

Mark wears a pensive expression as he looks down, using his free hand to fiddle with his hoodie strings.

“Yeah. Me too”.

His voice is strained as he thinks about the nights you’ve snuck out together and the secret dates you shared. He misses the way you feel in his arms and the way your soft hair felt when it tickled him awake in the morning. He misses your terrible dad jokes and your night cooking. It was really frustrating how you were both so young and so in love, but everything else in life had to get in the way. Mark really missed you.

You reach out instinctively to stroke his hair but instead of comforting the boy you loved, your hands are met with only the cold surface of your screen.

The two of you talked for a few more minutes, trying to make the most of the time before he had to go. You could tell by the way his voice strained that he was really exhausted.

When he finally hung up, you couldn’t shake the empty feeling off; not being next to him, being able to touch him, to comfort him, to be with him was the worst feeling in the world.

And before you could stop yourself, warm tears began to fall as your shoulders shook with your heartbroken sobs. Video calls were supposed to make you miss each other less, not more. You loved him so much that you’d miss him even if he was right there with you. Being apart was devastating.

“Oh, honey…,” Nayoo coos, crawling into your bed to give you a much needed hug, “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. Let it out”.

Wrapping your arms around your best friend, you let the tears fall onto your already soaked pillow and spilling out the feelings you’ve kept buried inside for so long.

“I just miss him so much,” you gasp, squeezing your fists around the fabric of Nayoo’s sweatshirt.

“Oh I know y/n, I know,” she comforted, “remember back when we were trainees and you just started dating Mark? And I was always there to distract Manager Kim when you snuck out to meet him?”.

You let out a small laugh at her attempt to lighten the mood. Nayoo was truly a good friend and she always had your back. You were really lucky to have her in your life.

“I do, Nayoo. I never thanked you enough for that”

“You know I love you. I’d do it again now if you wanted to sneak out and meet him. Actually I bet you could pull it off since our next show isn’t for another 4 days”

“Wait…”

Both of you sat up at the same time, looking at each other with wide eyes.

------

“I can’t believe we’re doing this”

“Shush! We already bought the tickets there’s no backing out now”

“What if someone notices me?”

“They won’t. Look at you”

You looked in the mirror of the lobby bathroom you were hiding in. You were dressed in plain, unbranded clothes, your hair tucked in a low, messy bun. The majority of your face was covered by a mask and a baseball hat, making you look nearly unidentifiable to anyone looking.

“I guess,” you sighed, still nervous, “let’s just go over the plan again”.

“Alright sheesh,” Nayoo groaned, “as if I am not a wizard of distracting our manager. You’ll get into the Uber we just called and go to Japan Airport. Your flight is at 2:30am and you’ll arrive in Korea at about 4:00am. Then you’ll go to Mark’s dorm and make out with him yadda yadda-”.

You punched her in the arm.

“Okay! Did I lie though? Anyways, you’ll be on your return flight the next day at the same time so you better savor your time. MY job is to tell Manager Kim that you are having lady problems and you can’t make it to practice today. He hates when we talk about periods so this is fool proof seriously. Plus we know that you will do fine on stage without one day of practice”.

“Okay…,” you chewed your lip nervously, half dreading the thought of being caught and half thrilled at the thought of being in Mark’s arms in a few hours. Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you looked at the notification.

*your Uber driver Ayako is here! Look for license plate A29&Q on a black Honda Pilot*

Hugging Nayoo goodbye, you rush out of the hotel and into the cab, adjusting your cap and mask to make sure it covers your face.

Each second that passed, you became more excited about seeing your boyfriend and less nervous about the consequences.

Mark, I’m here for you. I’m coming, just wait a little bit longer.

Your hands itched to call him and tell him what you were doing but you knew that he was catching up on some much needed sleep by now.

When you arrived at the Japan Airport, you thanked the driver and walked briskly through the airport. You had nothing except a small backpack and your plane ticket so getting through security was quick. Thankfully, there weren’t too many people there at 2 in the morning so you began to relax.

Successfully making it through security, you finally board the plane and claim your seat at the very back.

Looking out the window to the dark, starry skies, the lights of the airplane wings illuminate the drops of rain that began to fall.

-----

You jolt awake as the plane lands at the South Korea Airport with a rumbling thud. Your hands dart to your face to make sure your mask and hat are still there, sighing in relief when they remain unmoved.

Grabbing your bag, you walk down the aisle of the half-empty plane, each step bringing you closer to Mark.

Rushing out of the airport, your steps gain traction as you feel your heart racing in excitement at the thought of seeing your boyfriend so soon. The cold night air greets you familiarly as you call the nearest cab over. Telling the driver the address of Mark’s dorm building, you watch as the streetlights pass by and you near the boy you’ve been dying to see for weeks.

At last, you arrive at the steps of the apartment complex. Thanking the driver, you rush into the building and attack the elevator button going up. Your breathing is shallow with excitement knowing that he’s there right now. He’s there and you’re going to be with him.

Every second in the elevator feels like hours and you kick yourself for not taking the stairs. The floors seem like they’re all a mile away from the last and you tap your foot impatiently on the carpeted floor.

8...9...10

*Ding*

You speed out of the elevator and find your way expertly to the infamous 10th floor dorm room. Feeling around the crevices of the carpet floor for the spare key, you feel a slight twinge of nerves because you’re technically breaking into their home. But, as soon as you enter the familiar room, any guilt you have washes away and the only thing you can feel is the rapid beating of your heart filled with love and anticipation.

Making your way silently through the dark common room, you stop at the oh-so-familiar door. When your hand touches the cold metal of the doorknob, you swear that the beating of your heart was loud enough to wake the entire building.

Taking a deep breath, you open the door and you see him. Your breath hitches at your throat and you fight back the urge to cry right then and there. Mark was lying on his bed, snuggled under the covers with his arms and legs wrapped around a pillow like he always does when he sleeps. His soft breathing was rhythmic and calming, the warm scent of his room inviting you in.

Without wasting another second away from him, you drop your bag on the messy floor and walk up to his bed. Carefully, you pull at the pillow in his embrace and replace it with your own body. Mark shifts slightly and you freeze, not wanting to wake him up from his rare sleep. His eyes remain closed and his arms instinctively tighten around you. You can see through the darkness that his eyebrows furrow slightly and his lips part, and you wonder if he knew you were there.

“Finally,” you thought to yourself, reaching up slowly to caress his hair, “we’re finally together”. It didn’t feel real. You couldn’t believe that you were finally here in his arms. His body was so warm and felt like home to you.

You can feel Mark’s fingers autonomously rub circles into your back. As if his body realized what was happening, Mark’s eyes opened slowly and he peered into your face, blinking slowly to process this new information.

“I’m here, Mark,” you whisper as softly as you can.

Without any hesitation, Mark leans forward and presses a deep kiss onto your lips, conveying ten thousand words with his actions that could only be interpreted as “I missed you so much”.

You kiss him back, fingers gripping onto his shirt with raw emotion in an “I missed you too”. You breathe in deeply, not wanting to forsake any aspect of him, taking in all of his scent and drinking it all like a flower with no water.

He pulls away with a sigh and presses his forehead against yours. Mumbling incoherent words, you notice that he seems to have fallen back asleep.

Your own eyelids feel heavy and they flutter closed as you succumb to the warm welcome of sleep, your heart whole with love.

-----

Dull beams of sun fell slanted through the curtains as you drifted awake the next morning. You felt a hand playing with your hair and you opened your eyes slowly, temporarily forgetting what you had done the night before. Memories flooded back and your attention narrowed in at the smiling boy in front of you.

“You’re really here,” Mark whispered, “how are you here?”.

“It’s a long story,” you whispered back, voice still hoarse from sleep.

He pulled you in closer to his chest and you gladly snuggled into his warm body, nuzzling at his favorite hoodie, the one you got him for Christmas.

“I thought it was all a dream when I saw you last night,” he admitted.

“Stay with me today?,” you ask, worried that your time together would be short. If he had to go to practice, you could hardly see him at all and you’d go back to missing him a thousand miles away.

“I’m not going anywhere today,” Mark replies, kissing the top of your head, “my wishes have finally come true and you magically appeared in my bed. I’d be an idiot to leave”.

You giggled at his words, working your fingers to draw shapes into his back.

You start to tell him what happened after you called him the night before and how devastated you were when you weren’t with him. Mark’s arms tightened around you as you told him you cried when you saw how tired he was and you weren’t there to cheer him up. You told him about how you put on a disguise and snuck around Manager Kim who thought you were dying right now. His body shook with laughter at the crazy night you had and you both agreed that this was the wildest thing you had ever done.

“How long are you gonna stay here?”

“My flight back to Japan is at 2:30am tomorrow morning. What time is it now?”

Mark shifts to unlock his phone on the nightstand.

“It’s 10:49am”

You sighed and buried your face deeper into his chest, trying to get impossibly closer to the love of your life and make the most of your hard-earned time together.

“Let’s do everything today,” you heard him say.

“What do you mean?” you ask, tilting your chin up to look at him, pressing a small his to his jaw.

“Let’s just do everything we always wanted to do. Let’s get ramen from the convenience store together and then go on a walk at the park. Let’s get matching sweaters from the mall and then full sugar boba tea. You’ll drink half of mine and I’ll let you because I’m a good boyfriend”. Mark giggles at his imagination and peppers kisses across your face.

You laugh at the ticklish sensation and your heart swells with love for the Canadian boy.

Your whole body tingled, the feel of his body around yours and his lips on yours sending your head spinning. Rubbing your nose adoringly against his in an eskimo kiss, you vow that you would be strong for him from now on. You might be apart for work a lot, but the love you share is inseparable and undeniable. Nothing could ever come between you. You were his and he was yours.

“Let’s do it, Everything”

208 notes · View notes

booksfromblackwood · 3 years

Text

Is anyone still around in this fandom? If so, I thought I’d post the first chapter of an old fic that I re-wrote last year! Let me know if anyone’s still around, and if you’d be interested in reading more! Hope everyone reading this has a great day! :)

Han has left the chat.

Three Days Before The Disappearance

.Sam.Giddings. added josh_wash, ashleeeeey, xXGamerChrisXx, TheOriginalMatt, HanButterfly, BethWash, Mike_Munroe, EmilyD_, and _Jess.Riley_ to the chat.

.Sam.Giddings. named the chat Info For Tomorrow.

.Sam.Giddings.: Hey guys! Just to keep everyone updated on our travel plans for tomorrow! I know it's going to be a long day for everyone so it's vital we stick to the plan and stay in our groups where possible!

ashleeeeey: Okie-doodle!!

TheOriginalMatt: How are you so organised, Sam? You're a lifesaver!

HanButterfly: Hi!!

BethWash: trust sam to be more prepared than those of us organising the trip lol

xXGamerChrisXx: Since when was 'okie-doodle' a thing?

EmilyD_: Thanks Sam x

xXGamerChrisXx: And thanks so much, sam!

.Sam.Giddings.: So quick reminder of everyone's groups:

_Jess.Riley_: I'm stoked!!

ashleeeeey: That's rich coming from someone whose username is xXGamerChrisXx! :P

.Sam.Giddings.: Ash, Chris, Matt, and myself will start the journey first tomorrow morning.

xXGamerChrisXx: You wound me!

Mike_Munroe: Thanks for the plan, Sam!

TheOriginalMatt: Excited to see everyone tomorrow! This is going to be a killer weekend for sure!!

.Sam.Giddings.: Em, Mike, and Jess, you guys are next.

ashleeeeey: You're so dramatic!! XD

Mike_Munroe: Team Two here we go!!

xXGamerChrisXx: Made you smile, though! ;-)

josh_wash: what about us

.Sam.Giddings.: I'm just getting to that!

ashleeeeey: True :)

xXGamerChrisXx: You guys are already there and are therefore irrelevant! :P

.Sam.Giddings.: Han, Beth, and Josh, you guys are there already!

josh_wash: thanks cochise i feel so appreciated

BethWash: lol thanks chris

Mike_Munroe: So, what are we all up to?

BethWash: i found cake

xXGamerChrisXx: Browsing reddit like a nerd XD

ashleeeeey: Listening to Sam's rundown of tomorrow unlike sOmE pEoPlE *coughcoughChris*

EmilyD_: Honestly just packing my final things with Jess. Mike's mostly watching the TV.

xXGamerChrisXx: :-(

.Sam.Giddings.: So, tonight we should all make sure our bags are packed and that we have our passports and tickets ready!! Set your alarms for the right times (depending on your group) and make sure to sleep early too (especially if you're in my group since tomorrow will be an early start for us)!

ashleeeeey: :)

TheOriginalMatt: 5am gang where we AT?

HanButterfly: Beth where are you rn? Because I want some of that cake!!

.Sam.Giddings.: So Team One (myself, Chris, Ash, and Matt), we need to be up by 5:00am and be ready by 5:30am for the taxi to the airport!! Matt and Chris, yours is going to be at Chris' place at 5:24 for some reason so make sure to be ready!!

BethWash: the lodge kitchen bcos where else would there be cake han lol

.Sam.Giddings.: We'll meet up at the airport when we arrive! Once we re-group, we'll check in, probably eat some breakfast whilst we wait, and then catch the 8:30 plane!!

TheOriginalMatt: Sweet!

ashleeeeey: Can't wait! :)

josh_wash: yo matt you surviving the puns

.Sam.Giddings.: Team Two - you guys don't have to be up until around 9:00am since your taxi is at 9:20 and then your plane is at 11:30!

HanButterfly: Josh would you like me to save you some cake before we eat it all? :)

EmilyD_: We'll need a little longer than 20 minutes to all get ready but sure x

TheOriginalMatt: Just about! Myself and Chris have mostly been playing on his PS4 so I've been distracting myself with that! XD

josh_wash: yes please!

josh_wash: i feel for ya bro, a whole evening with chris' puns can prove fatal

josh_wash: you die of cringe

Mike_Munroe: Poor ol' Chris XD

.Sam.Giddings.: Once we arrive and get our bags, we need to catch the 2:30pm train and then the 4:20 bus! After that we have to take the 5:40 bus (I sent you guys screenshots of the route yesterday) and get off at Blackwood Pines ready for our hike up the mountain (with a little help from the cable car, of course)!

xXGamerChrisXx: I'm being BULLIED guys :(

ashleeeeey: Aw, poor Chris! :P

josh_wash: jk XD

TheOriginalMatt: I like how Sam's still here typing all we need to know whilst we're talking about cake and puns XD

.Sam.Giddings.: Team Two, you guys need to catch either the 5:30pm or the 6:00pm train depending on when your stuff arrives. After that you'll need to get the 7:50 bus and then the 8:40 bus to Blackwood Pines (you have to specify you want it to stop there or the driver won't stop) before you head up. Remember to lock the cable car station once you get in, Mike!

josh_wash: oh gosh tHE CAKE

Mike_Munroe: Gotcha' Sam!

HanButterfly: No worries, Josh! I managed to save most of it from Beth!

BethWash: rip my chance at a third slice of cake

_Jess.Riley_: Really, thanks Sam! We're all packed and ready to go! Xx

HanButterfly: It's really going to be such an awesome weekend! I can't wait :D

ashleeeeey: Thank you so much for inviting me! I've never been on something like this before!! :D

TheOriginalMatt: Yeah, thank you so much guys! I can't wait either, Han!!

.Sam.Giddings.: Have we got rooms sorted out for the lodge, guys?

BethWash: ash take the plans away from sam so she can have time to relax lol

EmilyD_: I'm with Mike in the room away from everyone like agreed right x

ashleeeeey: I'm trying but she won't let me! XD

HanButterfly: I mean if needs be we can sort out rooms once we're here! If not maybe we just sort out the first night rooms since it'll be fairly late when everyone arrives and then we can adjust them as needed as the trip goes on!

BethWash: lol poor sam will be up all night organising at this rate

.Sam.Giddings.: Sounds good, Han!

Mike_Munroe: Great idea, Hannah!

BethWash: em, yours and mike's room (upstairs guest) may not be ready first night so is it possible for you to share a room with jess til we get a chance to sort it out tomorrow?

EmilyD_: That's fine, hon. Thank you again for the trip and for letting us use the upstairs guest room x

josh_wash: how about for the first night emily and jess share beth's room and then beth sam and han go in hannah's room

josh_wash: mike can go to the small room downstairs if he's alright w/ that and matt can room w/ me

xXGamerChrisXx: Yo dude you forgot ash

ashleeeeey: It's alright, Chris! I can find somewhere!

EmilyD_: Ash you're honestly lovely but I'd kinda' like to be with either Jess or Mike if that's alright xx

ashleeeeey: No problem, Emily! I wouldn't want to intrude! :)

EmilyD_: Knew you'd understand xx

josh_wash: why dont you and ash share a room cochise

xXGamerChrisXx: I thought I was rooming with you and matt?

josh_wash: bro please just think for a minute here

ashleeeeey: I'm not sure.

xXGamerChrisXx: Beth, han, and sam, is there any room with you guys?

ashleeeeey: I'm really sorry to be a bother!!

.Sam.Giddings.: Of course you can room with us, Ash! We'd love to have you with us! :)

BethWash: im with sam

HanButterfly: Of course!!

xXGamerChrisXx: Thank you to the only valid washington kids right now!

josh_wash: -_-

xXGamerChrisXx: I see what you're doing, josh. ha ha, we've had our laugh, now please stop before this weekend.

Mike_Munroe: Rough subject, huh?

josh_wash: bro chill you know i was just joking

ashleeeeey: I'm really sorry!! Please don't get upset with each other!

xXGamerChrisXx: No ash it's alright! i promise i'm not actually mad! :-)

josh_wash: he acts mad over text to get his point across but he literally just sits there with a blank expression irl XD

TheOriginalMatt: Is Sam still there, Ash? Haven't heard from her in a while!

TheOriginalMatt: Gotta check up on my plane buddy for tomorrow!!

_Jess.Riley_: Did you guys get window seats or middle isle seats? I got a middle isle and the others got a window!

BethWash: she hasn't drowned in her notes has she lol

TheOriginalMatt: We got two sets of window seats! Though I don't know which of us is actually going to be at the window and which one will be window isle!

ashleeeeey: She's just brushing her teeth! Her mom came in and brought us a load of vegan snacks for the trip tomorrow and now I'm even more excited!!

ashleeeeey: Speaking of which, I'm probably going to head to sleep in a minute! Though I'm not sure how much I'll actually get since I'm so excited!!! :)

xXGamerChrisXx: Sleep well, ash. see you in the morning :-)

ashleeeeey: Night, Chris :)

ashleeeeey has left the chat.

_Jess.Riley_: Well that was cute!

xXGamerChrisXx: People say goodnight to eachother! that's a normal human interaction!

_Jess.Riley_: You know full well it's cute when it's you two

.Sam.Giddings.: Ash told me she logged out so I came to say goodnight!

josh_wash: w/ jess on this one bro

HanButterfly: Goodnight, Sam!

BethWash: night sam!

josh_wash: dont let the bedbugs bite!

TheOriginalMatt: See you bright and early tomorrow!!

.Sam.Giddings.: See you at the airport/lodge, guys!

xXGamerChrisXx: Night!

.Sam.Giddings. has left the chat.

BethWash: its cute because you like eachother chris

xXGamerChrisXx has left the chat.

HanButterfly: Aww, don't tease the poor guy!

TheOriginalMatt: Chris says goodnight, as do I! Can't wait to see you all tomorrow!

BethWash: night guys!

TheOriginalMatt has left the chat.

josh_wash: night!

Mike_Munroe: Make sure to save me a slice of that cake, Han! I gtg!

Mike_Munroe has left the chat.

HanButterfly: Goodnight Mike :)

EmilyD_: We'd best be off too. See you all in the morning.

_Jess.Riley_: Night x

EmilyD_ has left the chat.

BethWash: night

HanButterfly: Goodnight x

josh_wash: night xxxxxxyzqvp

_Jess.Riley_: Ha ha, very funny. Get that one from Chris?

josh_wash: lol night

_Jess.Riley_ has left the chat.

BethWash: PLEASE can i have some more cake, han?

josh_wash: you guys can literally just talk if you wanted

HanButterfly: Nope! Gotta' save some for Mike~

BethWash: you wont shut up about that for the rest of the evening now, will you?

BethWash: lol

HanButterfly: :P

josh_wash: you guys gossip in the kitchen

josh_wash: imma head to bed

BethWash: night bro

HanButterfly: Sleep well!

josh_wash has left the chat.

BethWash: please?

HanButterfly: No :P

BethWash: ugh night sis

HanButterfly: Night, Beth! XD

BethWash has left the chat.

HanButterfly has left the chat.

#until dawn #chrashley #until dawn chris #until dawn ashley #until dawn sam #until dawn josh #until dawn matt #until dawn emily #until dawn mike #until dawn jessica #pre-game #I’ve forgotten how to tag #Let me know if anyone is still in this fandom!

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an-unknown-writers-world · 4 years

Text

Late Night Tea

Warnings: Cheesy AF, poorly written smut; First attempt writing Loki.

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Characters: Loki, Reader (First Person, nameless), mentions of Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanoff,

Word Count: 1908

A/N: Please be gentle, it’s 4:30am, this is unedited and the first thing I’ve been able to write since December. Takes places sometime after CA: The Winter Soldier and before Thor: Ragnarök.

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I sat in front of the fireplace with my feet tucked under me in the chair, a hot teacup held between my hands. The calming smell of cinnamon and ginger was almost overwhelming until the warm fluid reached my taste buds – the perfect melody to help soothe me. The lights were dimmed and the only noise I heard was the crackling of the fire. It had been a rough day, tempers flared, and mistrust ensued.

The compound had been in shambles for the last five days; ever since the Bifrost opened and dropped Loki on the grounds. Steve and Natasha were both adamant that he be watched constantly, claiming that it be some kind of trick that he was here. The escapades I’d been told about happened long before my time with the Avengers, but I gathered enough to know that their concerns were valid.

I heard faint footsteps descending the stairs, they were too light to be Steve and too heavy to be Natasha’s; that left only Loki.

Turning my head, I smiled to greet him as he entered the room.

“Good evening, ma’am,” He greeted with a smile.

“Hello, would you like some tea?” I asked standing up.

“That would be nice, yes, thank you.”

“Chai alright?” I asked making it to the stovetop.

He nodded, “Is that what you’ve been making me?”

I laughed softly, “Yes, that’s my evening drink.”

Moving around the kitchen, I pulled another teacup out and grabbed teabags and sugar. It had only been a few days and I already knew how he took his tea. I was usually the last one to bed and in Loki’s attempts to ease the tension in the house he normally only came to the common room late in the evening. Needless to say, we had spent a lot of time together.

Loki pulled his cup across the counter and began to fiddle with the teabag. “Do you mind if I ask a personal question?” He spoke softly.

“Not at all,” I leaned against the counter.

“How does a sweet girl like you, get mixed into all of this?” He gestured around the house.

I sighed, “The short answer is that I was mixed up with the wrong people, I guess. The company I worked for turned out to be corrupt. I was just lucky enough to have become friends with Natasha while we were on the inside together. She and Steve took me in after everything.”

The tea kettle blew. Instinctively, I pulled the kettle and filled both cups. My mind thinking back to the dreadful day in Washington DC. The whole world was shaken and crumbled around me. I slid his cup back across him.

“Everything felt so meaningless after that day. I had no one left to fight for. It left me feeling empty and bitter,” I sighed, pulling myself back to reality. “From what I understand you suffered a loss that left you with some similar feelings.”

He shook his head before drinking his tea, “Grief is a fickle thing. It can make one do awful things.”

“And those things should be forgiven.”

“Why are you doing that?” He asked.

“Doing what?” I questioned.

“Treating me like a person.”

“Because you are,” I shrugged. “You shouldn’t be demonized for eternity because of a mistake.”

I held the teacup tightly in my hands and brought it close to my chest. My body felt cold all the way through my core. Loki looked between his teacup and my face, his expression hard to read; flashes of confusion, frustration, pain, and even relief all appeared.

My opinion of his forgiveness was not a popular one. It was the topic that started the anger and hostility this morning. He wasn’t a saint and by the standard of those around us, he would never be able to atone for the things he did.

A shiver escaped my body.

“You’re cold,” He observed.

“I’m okay,” I replied.

“Come,” He stood, “Let’s sit by the fire.”

I didn’t try to object, it was pointless. I was cold though I didn’t know why. The temperature hadn’t changed much if any. But goosebumps had wrecked my skin and my bones almost ached. I looked at the clock on the stove before walking away; it was hard to believe it was already four in the morning.

Putting my cup on the hearth, I sat on the ground directly in front of the fire. He did the same but grabbed the blanket from the couch before he sat down. In a sweet gesture, he draped it over my shoulders.

“Thank you,” I said softly when he sat down.

He smiled back at me; it was a breathtaking sight. When he truly smiled his eyes crinkled and dimples appeared in both of his cheeks. Beautiful blue eyes looked back at me, pulling me into a comfortable silence.

“I’ve enjoyed these last few nights drinking tea with you,” He said staring into the fire. “I feel as if I’ve always known you.”

“Me too,” I drank my tea letting the heat warm me from the inside. “Nights are quiet around here; it’s been nice to not spend them alone.”

“Well, I didn’t think we were to the point of spending the night,” He joked.

I couldn’t stifle the laugh that escaped, “Jokes, it’s four am and you have jokes.”

He smiled again, clearly proud of himself.

The room settled around us again, the fire crackling and in need of a new log. The embers still giving off satisfyingly high heat. Another shiver escaped my body.

He put his teacup down and took the fire poker to push the coals around before hanging the stick back on the hook. In one fluid effortless motion, another small log was placed on the fire.

“Come here,” He said

I looked at him questioningly, unsure if this was a good idea. Setting my own teacup down, I scooted closer to him. He took the blanket from my shoulders and unfolded it, stretching it over both of us. Reaching out his arm he pulled the small lap blanket from the chair on the side of him and draped it over our shoulders; his arm wrapping around my waist and pulling me closer to him.

I sighed contently.

“Better?” He asked.

“Much,” I agreed.

The fire roared with the occasional pop or snap. It had been a long time since I had felt this comfortable. An obnoxious voice in my head said run, really it was Ted Mosby’s voice saying, ‘nothing good happens after 2am’. I ignored it; this was exactly where I wanted to be. Although, I don’t think I knew where I wanted to be until now.

His fingertips slowly moved up and down my side, a soothing and distracting movement. I reached for his unoccupied hand with my own, intertwining our fingers. Casually he brought our tangled fingers to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss to my knuckles. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. He was sweet and charming, and it became increasingly easier to understand how he got away with so much.

I felt a soft kiss to the top of my head.

Turning to look at him, I recognized the look in his eyes. An emotional reflection of my own; solace and unadulterated lust. Without a second thought, I closed the space between us pressing my lips to his. His lips were smooth and warm against my own.

I broke it and pulled away, “I’m sorry.” I whispered. “That was wrong, I shouldn’t have done that.”

He was quiet for a moment, my mind raced with thoughts. I wanted so badly to believe that this was not me, not my desires or actions. But I knew that of all his many gifts, manipulating emotions and thoughts were not something Loki could do without his scepter.

“There’s nothing wrong with what was done,” He finally spoke. “Unless this is something you don’t want.”

Shaking my head, I looked up at him my hands resting on his abdomen. “I do though.”

Not another word was spoken. He kissed my jawline softly and slowly moving down my neck until he got to the crook of my shoulder. His hands found the hem of my shirt and quickly pulled it off. In the seconds after, I had his shirt off and piled along with my own. My fingers laced through the soft hair at the base of his neck, laying back I pulled him with me. His lips found mine again; I could taste the warm cinnamon of his tea as his tongue slid across my bottom lip begging for entrance.

The cold I had felt the last hour had dissipated and I finally knew what drove it. The need to feel someone else’s heat, breath in someone else’s scent and know simply that someone was there.

His weight supported on his forearms as he hovered over me, breaking the kiss, working his wet kisses down my chest, between the valley of my breasts. Stopping to take time to suckle each of my nipples while he pulled my sleep shorts off.

I suddenly felt exposed, laying completely naked in front of a man I had only truly know a few days. Not to mention on the living room floor of the compound I shared with my friends who had been hurt by this man. All my scars exposed.

“You’re beautiful,” He whispered crashing his lips to mine.

All my worries melted away.

I could feel his impossibly hard erection when I wrapped my legs around his waist. Moaning into the kiss, I needed friction of some kind. I needed him.

“Loki,” I breathed, breaking the kiss.

His lips found my neck again.

“Fuck me,” I murmured in his ear.

He pulled back with a torn look on his face, “you’re sure you want this?” He asked again.

I nodded, “I need you, need this.”

That was all the permission he needed. Pushing down his sweatpants he sprung free, a few quick pumps in his own hand and he was lined up at my entrance. He was slow at first, my breath hitched when he was fully sheathed.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

I shook my head and pulled him back to kiss me.

He pulled almost completely out before slowly, painfully slow pushing back in. My walls stretching to accommodate his large size. His pace quickened, my hands sprawled across his back, digging in with each thrust. The coil in my core winding tighter and tighter, heat pooling, and soft moans escaped my lips.

Passion, hunger, and need propelled both of us. Ragged breaths and moans of ecstasy echoed through the room.

“Let go,” He moaned in my ear.

His name escaped my moaning lips like a silent prayer as my walls shuttered and gripped him tighter as hot seed coated them. The feeling of his cum filling me was all I needed for the coil to snap. Ecstasy rocking me from the tips of my toes throughout my whole body. We rode it out together, foreheads pressed together, sharing the same air.

Rolling to his side, he pulled out. Pulling me into his side, he laid the blanket over us. My head laid on his shoulder looking into his blue eyes. He looked at me. His hair still a mess, and in the new morning sunlight, he looked more handsome and more human than I’d ever seen him.

#loki x reader #Loki Laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki smut #loki imagine #loki reader insert #marvel fan fiction #reader insert #An Unknown Writers World writes #An Unknown Writers World #might delete later #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #jonathan pine x reader #the night manager

157 notes · View notes

hydrangeahug · 3 years

Text

[ Coffee and Wine ]

Simeon x Lucifer | Chapter 4 out of ? | Angst with a happy ending

Read on Ao3

Chapter 4. Chaos, destruction and tea

The way back was relatively quiet, but that was to be expected considering that it was currently around 5AM. Only a few demons were up at this time, most of which went to their job or back home from a long day of work. Lucifer would have enjoyed this quiet morning walk if it wasn't for the fact that he hadn't slept the night before and that the silence gave him too much time to think about the events of the day once more.

How would he explain to his brothers that Simeon not only fell, but will also be living with them soon? Lucifer had no doubt that some of them would be happy, while others might not have a good reaction towards such a huge change in their life. But even then, he had made up his mind. Simeon will be living with them, if they want him to or not is irrelevant.

Lucifer passed by the Colosseum on his way back and it looked like some demons had started investigating the area on either Diavolo's or Barbatos' command. It was highly unlikely to find something relating to Simeon's fall but it was better than missing some key elements that might help them later on, or that could help Simeon remember what happened.

It wasn't long until Lucifer arrived at the house. It was… weirdly quiet from the outside. You wouldn't even be able to guess just how much chaos happens inside every single day if you just walked by. Part of Lucifer wanted to go back and ask if the castle perhaps had a room for him, he was tired, had a headache and needed sleep. And he knew all too well that he wasn't going to get any sleep for a few more hours with the brothers nearby.

And a small part of him wanted to stay with Simeon for just a short while longer.

Lucifer put his hand on the doorknob, ready to open the door. And as if on command, there was a loud scream heard from the inside. Based on the high pitched ringing in Lucifer's ears, it was most likely Asmodeus. Of course he couldn't just get back home without anything happening, how could he even believe that it would be any different.

Oh how he wished to be back at the castle right now, but there was no use in standing there hoping things would get better on their own, they never did with the brothers, after all. So he took the small amount of willpower he still had left and went inside, but nothing that he was mentally prepared for could have prepared him for the flood that came out of their house the moment he opened the door.

So that's why Asmodeus had screamed.

The water had now mostly gone outside while Lucifer stood there, and if Lucifer wasn't drenched, tired and ready to murder the next demon in his sight, then maybe he would even joke about the plants outside finally getting some water. But right now he wanted to know who was at fault for the entire House of Lamentation being turned into a bathtub. So he finally made his way towards the entrance while trying his best not to slip on the stairs that could now be used as a slide.

"Lucifer! Look at what they've done to the house! My makeup and clothes are completely ruined..." Asmodeus was the first to 'greet' Lucifer back home. He was standing inside next to the door, most likely in an attempt to escape once things got bad, but he seemingly didn't expect things to end up this bad either.

"Who do you mean by they?" Lucifer took a few steps inside, hoping to see whoever was at fault for this still in the area. But it seemed like they took the opportunity when Lucifer was still in shock to run.

"Mammon and Levi! Levi was screaming at Mammon to give him his money back when I went out of my room, then Mammon ran downstairs in an attempt to get away but Levi catched up to him! And then at some point Levi summoned Lotan…"

Of course it was Mammon! Who else would dare to cause such destruction at such an hour? "Did you see where they went?" Oh how Lucifer hoped that he had gotten far enough away so he couldn't catch up, unless he wanted to find out just how done Lucifer was with the day. But knowing these two, they were probably still fighting somewhere in the house.

"I think I saw Levi running upstairs, maybe he was running after Mammon again…? Maybe Mammon ran to his room?" That was to be expected. Mammon usually barricaded himself into his room when Leviathan wanted his money back. But this time it seems like Leviathan somehow got Mammon out of his room at first so he tried running outside instead. Which, as Lucifer could both see and feel, ended up in utter chaos and destruction.

Without saying anything else, Lucifer made his way towards the stairs. At first he couldn't hear anything that could indicate Mammon or Leviathan on the upper floor, but then he heard it. There was one voice coming from the direction of Mammon's room. Leviathan's, Lucifer assumed.

"MAMMON GET OUT OF YOUR ROOM!" with the sound of someone banging against a door with almost enough strength to punch the door in.

"Leviathan, do you mind explaining to me why the lower floor has been turned into a swimming pool?" Leviathan slowly turned around towards the voice until he realized that it was, indeed, Lucifer's, and that he didn't just imagine that.

"I'm… sorry… I truly didn't mean too! I was just so mad at Mammon because he-"

Lucifer made his way towards Mammon's door and interrupted Leviathan's speech to get Mammon out of his room, after all, it wasn't fair to only scream at Leviathan, right? "Mammon, if you do not come out of this room in the next second then giving anyone their money back will be the least of your problems."

Mammon opened the door right after Lucifer had finished his sentence and immediately started talking in an attempt at getting away, Lucifer wondered how he still hadn't noticed that no matter what he would say, none of his words could get him out of trouble, no matter how often he tried. "He was the one to summon Lotan! Not me! I don't see why you'd need me for this! And I have a modeling job in a few minutes-"

"Oh? At 5:30AM? That's quite early for you, don't you think? I don't remember you ever taking a job so early in the morning. But even if so, I'm sure they'll understand if I give them a call to let them know that you will be a bit late. Actually, how about you give me their number right now?" Lucifer knew that it was a lie, Mammon wasn't a morning person and it was surprising that he was awake at this hour at all.

"Nononono it's alright! I'm sure they'll understand if I'm a bit late!!"

"Mammon, your lies are embarrassing…" Leviathan said, who was seemingly not all too happy about seeing the man who had taken his money once again, or perhaps he still hadn't returned the money he last 'borrowed'.

"Oi! What do ya mean by lies??"

Lucifer caught into his hand to catch the two bickering demons' attention. "Now that we have that settled, how about we talk about the mess in the entire first floor? Mammon…?"

"Why are ya lookin' at me like that! It wasn't me!" Mammon put his hand up to point at Leviathan and continued, " It was this weirdo! He got all mad at me for something we already discussed and chased me around the house until he suddenly summoned Lotan!"

"DISCUSSED?! YOU TOLD ME YOU'D GIVE ME MY MONEY BACK YESTERDAY!"

"AND I TOLD YOU I DIDN'T HAVE ANY RIGHT NOW! WE TALKED ABOUT THIS!"

"YOU-"

"Are you two done now? I was going to only hang you two from the chandelier for half a day if you cleaned the mess you made but it seems like you'd rather have a whole day all to yourself."

"NONONO I'LL CLEAN I'LL CLEAN!"

"I'LL CLEAN EVEN BETTER THAN MAMMON!"

And they were gone before Lucifer could say another word. Oh well, Lucifer could worry about how well they actually cleaned once he woke up.

___

[ The House of Lamentation ]

Lucifer: if I find any of you just looking at my room anywhere before 12 then they will spend the next few days hanging from the chandelier until Simeon arrives here.

Satan: Well someone sure sounds like they didn't catch enough sleep tonight…

Beelzebub: Is Simeon visiting us?

Belphegor: Now that you mention it, Satan, I didn't see Lucifer anywhere in the last few hours.

Asmodeus: He came home just a short while ago! I wonder where he was, maybe on a date? ♡

Belphegor: Probably on a date with Diavolo, if anything.

Belphegor: But what does Simeon want from us? Hopefully not another exchange program…

___

Simeon couldn't sleep. No matter how hard he tried. Each time he closed his eyes they immediately opened up again, fearing the images he might see in his sleep, the nightmares he most definitely would have. The only reason he didn't have them earlier was because he passed out from the pain and blood loss. And while he didn't wish to feel the pain from then again, he did wish that he could have slept long enough for him to actually feel energized. It was now 6AM, Simeon noted after looking at the small alarm clock on the bedside table next to him for what felt like the 50th time.

But the moments that his mind couldn't rest also felt like torture. He repeatedly thought about the incident of the day, the pain, the fear. And if his mind wasn't busy with the past then it thought about the future, which part of him also feared.

Simeon wasn't one to be too afraid of uncertainty, or what people thought of him. But knowing that he would soon live with the people who he once saw as family, until he left them to their own fate, was frightening.

They didn't seem to hold a grudge against him, or at least they didn't when he was an exchange student. But back then he also didn't directly live with them. Perhaps they actually all hated him?

And then his mind once again found another way to make him suffer. Luke. What was with Luke? Who would take care of him now that Simeon was gone? And how would they tell him that Simeon was now no longer welcome in the Celestial Realm? And not only that, but that the person who had teached him how to be a proper angel was now no longer an angel himself? He had to ask Diavolo if he could find a way to contact Luke. He needed to talk to him.

There was a gentle knock on the door, taking Simeon out of thoughts. Simeon didn't expect anyone to come by so early - or should he say late? - but he wouldn't mind some company, especially not with the way his mind was wandering now, so he let the person in.

"I apologise for the intrusion, I'm just here to bring some clothes you can wear for the next few days." It was Barbatos. He had a few neatly folded clothes in his hands and made his way towards the closet.

"It's alright, I wasn't sleeping anyway. Thank you."

While putting the clothes into the closet Barbatos spoke up again. "Is there anything troubling you? I could make you some tea, I'm sure I have something that could help you sleep."

There was, a lot. But Simeon didn't want to dump the mess that was his mind onto someone else, even if he knew that Barbatos was trustworthy. "I think that everything that happened in the last few hours was just...a lot." And he didn't lie with that. He did feel overwhelmed by the events of the last day, he just left out a few other things.

"Of course, what happened wasn't something you could just get used to in such a short while. I still remember how the brothers were when they had to get used to living here." Barbatos turned around and gently smiled at Simeon, seemingly in an attempt to make him feel better and more at ease. "If you'd like then I could tell you some stories about that time that I know off while we relax with some tea?"

"That sounds great. Thank you Barbatos."

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me simeon #lucifer x simeon #obey me swd #obey me: one master to rule them all #obey me: shall we date #obey me:swd #obey me barbatos

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svtxsoju · 4 years

Text

02. morning glory fizz | dear miss soju

ღ Synopsis: College is hard. Love is even harder. Good thing the students of Mansae University can write in to Miss Soju, the campus’ very own romance advice columnist! The only problem is she’s never been in a relationship. Ever. There’s no telling what kind of chaos she may cause in the love lives of several of MU’s most eligible bachelors. Too bad no one knows who she really is! ღ Characters/Pairings: college AU! Seventeen & OC’s, Joshua x baking major!OC, and more TBA! ღ Genre: Romantic Comedy, Slice of Life ღ Warning(s): Mentions of alcohol, suggestions of sex, language ღ Word Count: 4.9k words ღ Binu’s Note: a week late but better late than never i guess 😌 i’ve been avoiding tumblr to finish writing this, but i just kept getting distracted by choi seungcheol. hit that mf like button if you relate. i’m so excited for the special album y’all the teasers and concepts are so sadkfklsj i love seventeen

anyway, i apologize not only for the late update, BUT ALSO bc this chapter is also a lot of exposition again 😔🥺 i promise i’m done setting it all up and that some real shit will go down in the next chapter!! hopefully people will still be able to enjoy this chapter huhuhu 😭💗 if you’re reading this, i love u and i hope u have a good weekend!!

《 ⊛ Author’s Note & Credits ⊛ Disclaimer ⊛ Masterlist ⊛ 》

《 Previous ⊛ Next 》

Having already completed the first half of her college career, Joohyun was well aware of the value of sleep. And yet, like most college students, she could never seem to manage a decent sleeping schedule. She had only slept 2 hours when her alarm went off at 5:30AM. She groggily rolled out of bed, mentally cursing her past self for thinking that this was a good idea when clearly, the best idea at the moment was to snuggle back up under her covers and sleep in until afternoon. Only one of her eyes seemed capable of staying open as she pulled on her clothes and got ready for the day. When she suddenly heard the front door close behind her roommate, she cursed out loud, throwing her laptop into her bag before she rushed out the door. She half-wobbled, half-hopped along the second-story walkway while she tried to get her shoes all the way on.

“Bok Bongseon! Wait for me!” Joohyun called out in an aggressive whisper.

“HOLY SHIT! You scared me, Joo!” her roommate, a shorter girl with full cheeks and pouty lips, screamed at full volume. She clutched at her racing heart and leaned against the wall while she caught her breath.

“Shut up, people are still sleeping!” Joohyun linked arms with Bongseon and dragged her down the steps leading to the street. It was still dark outside, but she could already hear the faint bustling of the mart located below their apartment. It was nice to know that they weren’t the only two people in Seoul insane enough to be awake at this hour.

“I thought you were the ghost of my grandma, you bitch! You know she visits me in my dreams to tell me how disappointed she that I’m a baker,” Bongseon said indignantly, though she still cuddled closer to Joohyun when they were hit by the morning chill. Once they reached the street, they both headed towards the train station without having to say a word. “What are you even doing up?”

“I am simply accompanying my favorite roommate to work to make sure that she gets there safely,” Joohyun crooned sweetly, and made kissy faces at the girl, who in turn pinched Joohyun’s lips between her calloused fingers. She tried to protest but could only let out pained whines until she was mercifully released. “Ow!”

“Sorry but I cannot fulfill your roommates to lovers, 12k slowburn fantasy,” Bongseon continued on nonchalantly as they climbed down the steps to the platform. “You had your chance, but I am a taken girl!”

“Oh, so you and Josh are together today?” Joohyun teased. Although it probably wasn’t the best idea, considering her lips were slightly throbbing from the girl’s attack. “I’ll just wait until tomorrow then.”

“Wow, bold words coming from Miss Fish Lips.” Bongseon raised an eyebrow and smiled tauntingly. “Understandable, considering that that was probably the most action your lips have gotten in your entire life. I could probably set it up on a blind date with my fist, if you’d like.”

Joohyun’s laughter echoed off the walls of the mostly empty station, startling the only other person waiting for the morning train (an old woman, who was still half-asleep prior to being rudely awakened by two very loud girls). Bongseon often made some colorful threats, morning or not, but Joohyun was one of the very few people who could be assured that her words were empty. “Don’t you know that it’s rude to stare, lady?” she barked at the old woman, who was openly glaring at them. Everyone else, on the other hand, was subject to Bongseon’s sharp temper.

This even included her boyfriend of approximately 4 years. ‘Approximately’ being the key word, because the two often took breaks-- a natural phenomenon when one partner was easily provoked and the other loved to do the provoking. Jihoon had told Joohyun that the two had met at the cafe in their freshman year, when Bongseon came in as a part-time baker and Joshua was merely a barista trainee. They started dating within a month and moved into an apartment together in two. That went just as well as anyone would expect. By the grace of whatever entity that was chaotic enough to keep their relationship intact, they made it 7 months before nearly breaking things off for good. As luck would have it though, a new hire and his roommate were in the same exact predicament as them. Kind of.

Joohyun shuddered to recall her freshman year when she and Jihoon somehow convinced themselves that it was a good idea to share an apartment. In principle it made sense; they had lived across the street from each other since they were in diapers. Two exhausting months into trying to irritate the other into breaking the lease first, they met Bongseon and Joshua when Jihoon started working at Smile Flower. It didn’t take long for Joohyun to suggest the switch— she would move in with Bongseon and Joshua with Woozi. Just like that, she saved both Bongseon and Joshua’s turbulent romance (temporarily) and her and Woozi’s fractured friendship (now thriving).

She and Bongseon have been roommates ever since, and Joohyun knew her life was a little easier for it.

“Joohyun, you better stop looking at me with those heart eyes before I really act up,” Bongseon warned. They had boarded the train, but hadn’t bothered to sit down since Mansae University station was only two stops away.

“But I just love you so much,” Joohyun pouted, affectionately resting her head on her friend’s shoulder. “What does Joshua have that I don’t?”

“A dick. And that’s about it.”

“Damn you, heterosexuality!”

Bongseon snorted out a laugh. “Seriously Joo, how are you awake right now? You’re only ever this lovey-dovey when you’re severely sleep deprived. I know you don’t have classes until 3PM today. You also don’t have your internship today,” Bongseon narrowed her eyes when Joohyun visibly tensed up at the mention of her current occupation. “Also, since when do you watch Youtube videos until 2am? And don’t think I didn’t notice that all of them were titled ‘Relationship Q&A’s’ and ‘I confessed to my crush and he said this!!!’. Got something to tell me, missy?”

It was so quiet on the train that Joohyun worried that Bongseon could hear all the wires in her brain short-circuit. With Bongseon’s cross-examination skills, it was a wonder why she pursued baking instead of joining her family’s firm. Come on, Joohyun, just tell a white lie. Easy, simple. Don’t need to overcomplicate things. “Oh, uh I— um— well, I j-just thought they were entertaining?” She was done for.

“Right. You thought random couples self-indulgently talking about their love lifes for 40 minutes with default iMovies effects were entertaining.”

“Y-yes?” Joohyun threw in her most convincing smile for good measure, but it did nothing to soften Bongseon’s hard gaze. “It’s my new guilty pleasure, haha!”

“Hm, interesting,” Bongseon was momentarily interrupted by the sound of the arrival bell. Joohyun eagerly pulled her friend towards the exit, hoping that the distance from the train could also get her further away from the topic. Unfortunately for her, Bongseon did not plan on dropping it so soon. “You sure you don’t want to tell me anything, Joo? About your internship?”

Joohyun began to sweat. Was she really that transparent? “Okay, don’t get mad--”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m super jazzed that you’re getting into relationships and everything, but really Joo? Youtube? You could just talk to me if you need help talking to your new crush at your job!”

“Oh.” Joohyun would have let out a sigh of relief if she wasn’t out of breath from climbing the mountain of stairs up to the sidewalk. “Right. Confessing. To my crush. That I definitely have.”

“It’s okay to admit you have one, Joo. I’m no stranger to workplace romance,” Bongseon said, her breathing completely even. A measly flight of stairs was nothing compared to eight hours of kneading dough. “Who’s the lucky bastard, Joo?”

“Well, I’m not sure I would call it a workplace romance, per se…” Joohyun laughed nervously. There was no way she could stick another clean landing if she kept talking.

“Shut up, I bet that guy is in love with you already. Who wouldn’t fall for the only editing intern at The Front?”

“Haha, I don’t know…” Probably no one, because the only editing intern at The Front doesn’t exist?

Joohyun could not be more relieved to see the small store front of Smile Flower Cafe. It was one amongst the many cafes located near campus, but Joohyun felt like nothing really matched its comforting home-like ambience. But that probably had less to do with the soft wooden floors and pastel ceramic mugs, and more owed to the three years Joohyun had spent hanging around there, usually bothering Jihoon and joking around with Josh.

The two boys already stood waiting at the cafe’s entrance, too bleary-eyed to notice Joohyun and Bongseon quickly approaching. “Hey, ugly!” Joohyun called out, snickering when both of them turned to look at her.

“What the hell, why are you awake?”

“Good morning to you too, Jihoon,” she answered, blowing him a kiss. “I’m actually here to see you, believe it or not. Don’t you feel special?”

“Oh? That’s interesting, because you told me that you came here for me,” Bongseon broke away from exchanging actual kisses with Joshua to look between Joohyun and Jihoon in a way that Joohyun did not like too much. “I guess it wasn’t a workplace romance after all.”

Joshua mirrored his girlfriend’s implicating expression as he unlocked the front door, simply because he knew it made his friends squirm. “Wow Joohyun, you woke up this early just to talk to Jihoon? You really couldn’t wait to see him, huh?”

“Uh, yes because I need his help—”

“Ah, his help, gotcha! Come on, Bongseon, I’ll go help you in the kitchen while these two help each other out here,” Joshua snickered. Before Joohyun or Jihoon could roast the couple in retaliation, they had already disappeared behind the counter.

After years of similar taunts, all Jihoon could do was shake his head. “Okay Joo, what is so important that you need my help at 6 in the morning?”

“I wrote my first response last night!” Joohyun whispered excitedly, taking out her laptop from her bag. “Well, a few hours ago. I wanted to show you before continuing on with the rest! Here, look.”

① Dear Miss Soju,

I just started my first year at MU and she’s an exchange student from New York. We met at a party and talked for two hours about comics, aliens, anything we could think of. It was perfect. She even asked me to walk her home. When the time came for me to make a move though, I kind of dropped the ball. Since we had just met that night, I didn’t want to come off too strong. Now I really regret it - I don’t even have her phone number. I feel like such an idiot! I can’t stop thinking about her, but I don’t even know if I’ll ever talk to her again. Did I make myself seem disinterested? Will we meet again? Will she even remember me?

Sincerely,

Big Cringy Idiot

She let Jihoon read the asker’s message first, then scrolled down to show her answer.

Dear Big Cringy Idiot,

You and your crush seem to have a lot in common. There is nothing wrong with being nervous around someone you like. In fact, it is fairly normal and is a good sign that you like this girl very much. She also seems open to any future possiblities, since she did ask you to take her home. You need not worry about coming off too strong in this situation, although I do admire your dedication to respecting women’s boundaries. I hope you are able to find this girl again so that you can truly tell her how you feel. Best of luck to you!

Sincerely,

Miss Soju

“Joo, that was…”

“Poetic, beautiful, life-changing?” Joohyun grinned, and nudged her best friend with each suggestion.

“Boring. It was boring.” Joohyun’s face fell, and Jihoon could only offer the girl an apologetic smile. “Dude, you’re gonna put people to sleep if you keep it up like this. I almost took out a pillow to take a nap on the floor.”

“But this is how I write my articles— Informative and concise! How else am I supposed to write it?”

“I mean, that’s great for reporting articles, but this is an advice column. It’s supposed to be fun, sarcastic maybe. Like your promo piece! That was good.”

“I wrote that as a joke, hoping they would fire me for it,” Joohyun admitted, eyes wide in panic as she looked at her best friend.

“Huh. Well, I think it would sound better than this Wikipedia article you got going on,” Jihoon shrugged. “Try to be fun!”

“I am fun!” Joohyun cried out defensively, her nostrils flaring with passion. When Jihoon responded with a doubtful look, she let out a dramatic gasp and snatched up her laptop, stomping over to her favorite corner in the cafe. “I can be fun! I’ll show you fun!”

“Atta girl,” Jihoon’s signature cackle filled the cafe, further fueling the girl’s aggressive typing.

Just another morning in the life of So Joohyun.

To the surprise of the cafe’s current occupants, a student already tapped at the glass entrance, clearly in desperate need of his morning americano. He had walked all the way from the freshman dorms after a restless night of tossing and turning. When his phone screen told him it was already 6:05AM, he decided to just give up on sleep altogether. So there he was, trying to start off his day right, at Smile Flower Cafe, only to be stopped at the door by the grumpy barista with the red hair. He always felt like the other one was way nicer, especially since he would go out of his way to sneak him free cookie samples and made pleasant small talk while ringing him up (what was his name? Jonathan?).

All the red-haired barista ever did was scowl at him when he asked for a student discount. Now, he scowled at him as he gestured at the sign that indicated that the cafe would not be open until 7AM. The fatigued freshman had half a mind to make some choice gestures of his own, but he refrained and just whipped out his phone instead. He gave the mean barista one last pout before turning around and walking towards the 24-hour convenience store on campus.

➠ [ to: vernonie 😌😎 ] Good morning king. Are you still on your shift ?

➠ [ from: vernonie 😌😎 ] gm seungkwan pls k*ll me

Seungkwan took that as a yes. It didn’t take long for him to arrive, the entrance bell ringing lightly when he stepped into the small store. At the register sat his roommate, who was clearly fighting to keep his eyes open. “Wol-cuh ‘n—” he tried to greet through a wide-mouthed yawn. “Excuse me, welcome in! Oh, hey Seungkwan.”

Seungkwan answered with a grunt and headed straight for the refrigerated coffee section, choosing the largest can.

“Uh dude, you good? You look like—”

“Like I haven’t slept all night? I am aware,” He immediately opened his coffee and took a long gulp of the beverage in hopes of feeling even a little better. When it did nothing after 30 seconds, he frowned at the concerned cashier. “Vernon, I will not be paying for this drink, because it is clearly defective. Coffee is supposed to fix everything.”

“Is this about your audition today?” Vernon asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Your monologue sounded really solid last night though. Your audition songs were great too. You totally got this in the bag!”

“It’s not just about the audition, sweet Vernon,” Seungkwan sighed. “It’s about who I’m going to see at the audition. I still don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do.”

“Oh yeah, you are probably going to see them later.” For the past week, all Seungkwan could talk about was the theater tech sophomore that he had met at the theater department’s welcome party. They had sat beside Seungkwan and had helped him through all the fast-paced drinking games, and even took some of his shots when he kept losing. Surely, this was what love felt like.

That was what Seungkwan hoped anyway, because whatever it was made him feel all warm and tingly inside (or it could have just been the alcohol). Nevertheless, he had made big plans to confess to his crush as soon as possible. His dilemma for the past several days was merely a matter of how it would be done. “Not probably! I know for a fact that they will be there, because they told me that they couldn’t wait to see me,” Seungkwan let out a wail and slumped over the counter. “They’re the sweetest, most beautiful person to ever walk the earth and I just want to tell them that I would actually jump off a bridge for them. Why is that so difficult?”

Vernon nodded sympathetically as he always did. “I mean, if you’re not ready today, maybe you could wait?”

“Wait?! No offense babe, but last time I checked, waiting didn’t get you anywhere,” Seungkwan said, patting his roommate’s arm. Vernon cringed as he was forced to remember his own romantic blunder from the past week. “Clearly, we are both in major need of help. That Woozi guy’s show didn’t do anything for us! Also, we still haven’t heard from that Miss Soju character and it’s been what? Two days? If she’s such an expert, she would know that love is time sensitive!”

“Ugh, I know. I keep refreshing The Front’s website just to see if she’s posted it yet.” Vernon sighed forlornly, which was a common punctuation to his sentences lately. “It’s getting me really antsy. What if she doesn’t even choose to answer our emails this time?”

Seungkwan quickly covered the other freshman’s mouth. “Don’t say that! The universe manifests what we say will happen. We should ask for divine intervention instead.” He cleared his throat in preparation and threw his hands up to the sky. “O Eros, god of love, please shine your blessings down upon my and Vernonie’s love lives for we are but two humble, clueless freshmen in need of romantic guidance. Send down two of your swiftest, sharpest arrows, so that those that we desire may hear your soft whispers—”

Ding. The sound of the entrance bell rang once more, stopping Seungkwan’s prayer short, much to his irritation. “Is this a bad time?” the new customer, an ethereally handsome blonde, asked amusedly. He strode into the store and grabbed two spicy tuna triangle kimbab’s before approaching the counter.

“Jeonghan hyung!”

“Ah, Vernon!” Jeonghan smiled. “I didn’t know you worked here. You should come by my and Cheol’s apartment again soon, that was fun!”

“Hyung, this is my roommate that I told you about-- Seungkwan. And Seungkwan, this is Seungcheol hyung’s roommate,” Vernon said all while ringing up Jeonghan’s food. On the side, Seungkwan bowed sheepishly after unfreezing from his previous pose. “How’s your morning going? You wake up pretty early!”

Jeonghan laughed heartily, shaking his head. “Oh no, I just finished an all-night stream. I just came by to get a snack before heading to bed. Seems like you two have been having a fun morning, though. Do you two always start your day off by praying to the ancient Greek god of desire?”

Seungkwan flushed a deep pink. “Uh no, it was more like a cry of desperation. Vernon and I are having a pretty tough time confessing to our crushes, so I figured we should just try out anything that might help us. Nothing else seems to be working…”

“Wait, that’s so cute,” Jeonghan cooed.

“Would you be able to give us some advice, hyung?” Vernon asked. He didn’t know anything about the senior’s love life, but he did give off the vibe of someone who would know… a lot.

Jeonghan’s eyes twinkled dangerously, a lazy smirk on his lips. “I mean, I could go talk to your little crushes for you, if you’d like. I’m sure I could get some sort of response out of them.”

One look at Jeonghan had Vernon and Seungkwan shaking their heads vehemently.

“No, we’re good.”

“Yeah, no thanks.”

“Mm, good call.” Jeonghan took his food from the counter, and winked at the two boys. “I really wish I could help you both more, but I’m sure you’ll get what you’re waiting for soon! Today, if you want it enough.”

There was something in the way that the senior stated those words that made Seungkwan believe him without a question. It wasn’t a naive suggestion or an optimistic prediction; Jeonghan spoke like it was the truth plainly written on the walls. He finally felt a long-awaited wave exhaustion wash over his anxieties, softening them until they fizzled away alongside the ebbing foam. All that was left behind were grains of sand. Suddenly, Seungkwan yawned, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up in his twin bed at the dorms.

“Well, I should be heading off to bed! Looks like you should be too, Seungkwan,” Jeonghan said, suppressing his own yawn. The freshman nodded in agreement. He definitely needed to rest up— this was going to be a big day, after all.

“Say hi to Cheol hyung for me when you get home!” Vernon said.

Jeonghan hummed thoughtfully as he made his way back to the entrance of the store. “I will if he’s there! He didn’t come home last night.” He turned to leave the boys with one last sleepy smile, seeming to laugh at something only he knew.

“At least one of us is doing something right.”

“Jihoon, why can’t I get this right?”

“I’m sorry! This just sounds nothing like you,” Jihoon shrugged. It had been a rather busy morning, but things slowed down as it approached noon, giving him the chance to look at Joohyun’s fourth draft of responses. “I’ve never heard you say stuff like ‘rad’ or ‘hella’... Like are you aware that you sound like a skater from the late 90’s?”

“That’s because the reference I’ve been using is from 1997!” Joohyun huffed in frustration. She was already backspacing albeit with a little more force than necessary. “I wasn’t even born in ‘97!”

“Exactly, so stop trying to write like that. What if you tried to—”

“Eat my ass, Hong!” The sound of the kitchen door slamming open interrupted Jihoon’s (probably unhelpful) suggestion, and the two best friends watched as Bongseon stormed out of the cafe in a familiar rage. Luckily, there were no customers to witness it this time.

Instinctively, they looked to the kitchen door, where Joshua stood with a resigned smile on his full lips. “Oops,” he said, scratching at the back of his neck apologetically. “Guess it was too soon to joke about our last break. Sorry about that, Jihoon. I’ll try to call in the head baker early to finish up the rest of the pastries for today.”

He walked over to where they sat and plopped himself across from Joohyun. She offered Joshua a look of sympathy, but he responded by twisting his face up in a dumb expression, reassuring her that he was just fine. Still, she couldn’t help feeling worried for both of her friends. No matter how many times Bongseon and Joshua broke it off and no matter how much Joohyun joked about it, she knew that their strong feelings for each other meant that it hurt a little every time they got into a fight. At least, that’s what she gathered from the various nights she spent soothing Bongseon while the girl cried into a toilet bowl, soju bottle still in hand.

“It’s okay, Josh, you probably don’t have to worry too much. Knowing her, she’ll probably be back in 30 minutes to make up with you and then Jihoon will have to find someone to take over your shift,” Joohyun piped up. “But please take it back to your apartment this time, because I don’t make enough money to have every surface of my apartment sanitized again.”

Joshua let out an easy laugh, as though he were not a man in deep shit. “Thank you, Joo. You always know what to say to make me feel better,” he sighed. “I should probably go after her. I’ll be back soon, Jihoon!”

She waited for him to disappear out the door before turning to her best friend. “Wow, that’s gotta be a new record for them, right? I didn’t even know they got back together until this morning.” Joohyun was surprised to find that Jihoon had been silently staring at her for a good minute now. “...Why are you looking at me?”

“What you said to Joshua,” Jihoon simply replied.

“Oh, I was only joking about the sanitation thing. I just walked in on them once in the kitchen—“

“No I mean, how you said it. Maybe that’s how you should be writing your responses.” Jihoon grinned, watching as Joohyun gave him that look again, the one where she looks at him like he’s speaking from a third head. But he knew that this was going to be another Jihoon Genius moment, which seemed to be happening more frequently lately, much to his satisfaction. “Like you’re talking to one of your friends. I mean, it made Josh feel better, right?”

Joohyun’s eyebrows scrunched together and she mulled the idea over. Without another word to Jihoon, she began to slowly type on her laptop, gradually tapping faster and faster as she gained momentum. Her best friend giddily returned to his place behind the counter to tend to the customers that just walked in. He knew that once she got into a groove, there was no hope of stopping her.

An hour later, Joohyun finally pushed away her laptop and waited for Jihoon to finish wiping down a table before calling him over. For some reason, she was anxious to show him the final product and even when he already sat besie her, she hesitated for a beat. Usually, her writing was professional and objective, always ending with a declarative period. She had spent years perfecting her reporting style so that when she presented the facts, that’s all they were. This, however, felt personal, like it was a part of her. And even though Jihoon probably knew her even better than herself sometimes, there was something so vulnerable about showing someone a side of her that she had only just discovered.

And yet, she was curious to know— desperate to know: was it any good?

“Well?” Joohyun watched for Jihoon’s reaction closely, both impatient and terrified to hear his thoughts.

“Joohyun, this...” Jihoon started slowly. She braced for impact. “This is it. I think you’ve found Miss Soju’s voice.”

She exhaled. “R-really?”

“Yes, really. You answered the questions so thoughtfully, so you know it’s not just some generic bullshit you found on the internet. Plus, it was fun to read, like I think I’d read this even if I didn’t send a letter in,” Jihoon gushed, all while skimming over the words again. He turned to smile brightly at her, reminding Joohyun of a much younger Jihoon back in their elementary school days. “Most importantly though, it’s so you.”

Joohyun returned the smile, just as brightly. Warmth bloomed in her chest and across her cheeks. “Thanks, Jihoon, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Honestly, me neither,” Jihoon laughed.

“Um, can I ask you one more thing though?” Joohyun scrolled down to the last two entries, both of which asked for advice on how to make things official with a guy they’ve been talking to. The two letters were extremely similar in detail, but had been sent from two different emails and two different signatures. At first, she thought that maybe her judgement was muddled by her lack of sleep, and as the day went on, she figured her inability to recognize any nuance between the two letters was thanks her lack of experience.

There was just something about the way they had described the boy. She knew that intelligent, funny, kind-hearted, and unbelievably handsome were pretty generic adjectives. But what were the odds for both letters to also mention his infectious laugh and deep, dark eyes? “Do you think these two are from the same person? I’m trying to go for a confession theme for this article, so I included them both, but I’m afraid they’re too similar.”

Jihoon read them over a couple of times, then shrugged. “They do sound pretty similar, but a lot of people go through that sort of thing. Also, so many people describe their crushes like that, but let’s be real, most of them end up being fuckboys. So trust me, both those people probably need your help. I mean, what’s the harm in publishing both, right?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Joohyun bit her lip, needing every ounce of reassurance she could get from her best friend. She read over her writing once, twice, thrice more. This was it. No more edits and no more excuses. Her finger hovered over the mousepad. “Okay, I”m going to send it in for approval now. Jihoon, you are about to witness me publish my first article for The Front.”

Joohyun took a deep breath and clicked. Finally.

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plaidbooks · 4 years

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Everyone Deserves Love chapter 5

A/N: They have met! And now they are stuck together! Will Barba be able to not be an asshole to Devon? Will he stop rolling his eyes? Tune in to find out!

Just kidding; this chapter starts off on the next day. About halfway through, it jumps, so watch out! I do put the dates, so they are kinda important. But in case you miss them, I think I also generally put in a sentence explaining the jump. I also totally head cannon both Barba and Fin as super not-morning people. Also also, I spent...too much time looking up knife wounds for this to be as accurate as it is. Triple also, obligatory straddling/pinning down scene while training >.>

Shoutout to my friend Adrian in Colombia, who translated Spanish phrases for me. They are in English in parenthesis next to the Spanish.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tags: blood, stab wounds, knives, fighting

Words: 11k+

Apartment of Rafael Barba

Friday, January 28th. 4:00am

Devon was the first awake—not something new to her. Actually, it was incredibly rare that she wasn’t the first up; ever since taking the UC in California, she had trouble sleeping, exasperated by the time difference. There was just too much going on in her mind, especially now, having to protect someone for 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Plus, the root of the problem (that she refused to admit, even to herself) was that she was always on alert, always afraid of resting, even for a few hours at night. She never felt safe, even when she wasn’t working a job. Her place in the FBI was one that she loved, but it also put her in harm’s way often. She knew that she had enemies out there: cartels, mobs, gangs. But she never had anyone come after her directly. She had buddies in high ranking FBI positions, and even in the CIA, that would routinely check if they had heard about a hit on her, but it has only happened a couple times in the past, and always a one-person vendetta. Not a whole gang, like what Barba now faced. Even so, Devon was always on alert, even when simply walking down the street.

So, when she woke up at 4am to a quiet loft on this Friday morning, it was no surprise. She got up, stretched, then got on the floor. She did pushups, sit-ups, stretches, lunges, and every other exercise she could think to do when in the living room of a loft—no chance for a run, and even less of a chance to hit the gym. Barba didn’t look like the “gym” type. Devon chuckled at the thought as she worked. Once finished, she snuck into the bathroom in the hallway, praying that Barba was a heavy sleeper; waking him up early was probably not a great start to the day. She stripped quickly and hopped in the shower. She had shampoo, conditioner, and soap in her grip, plus deodorant, toothbrush and paste, and a variety of perfume.

She prided herself in being prepared for anything that fate threw at her; she collected perfumes and outfits for her job as a chameleon. She was damn good at blending in, and she planned on doing that today. She knew that Barba was…less than ideal as a victim; he was abrasive, spiteful, and seemed to dislike having her around—last night seemed like fatigue took out some of his bite. But she could play into that; she planned on wearing neutral colors, wearing natural-colored makeup, and donning a soft perfume. She wanted to look as plain as possible, wanted no one to notice her. Wanted to just be another face in the courthouse. The only thing that gave her away was the badge and gun on her waistband—though her jacket hid them unless at the right angle—and a knife strapped to her upper thigh. The sheath, straps, and hilt of the knife was black, which blended in with her black slacks. Ever since the UC in California, Devon kept the knife on her at all times—well, maybe not while sleeping.

Dressed and feeling refreshed, Devon tiptoed out of the bathroom. There was no sound from Barba’s room, so she assumed he was still asleep. She opened her laptop and wrote up her report from the day before; she’d have to have a report for every day for Olivia, plus a report for her boss, Jenkins. Even though she wasn’t technically working for the FBI for this, she knew that he’d want a debriefing at the end of this. Soon enough, she heard Barba’s muffled alarm go off, heard him haphazardly slap it until it turned off. He let out a groan and the bed creaked as he stood. A couple moments passed, and then the tale tell sound of a shower starting up filled the loft. Devon finished Olivia’s report at the same time Barba opened his bedroom door, walking quickly to the living room. He was dressed in a sharp black suit, bright blue tie bringing out the green of his eyes. He wore a strong cologne, his hair slicked back; he looked handsome, but his face showed that he was not quite awake yet.

He looked at his watch; he was running a little late today. He sighed, then jumped when he saw Devon sitting on the loveseat, fully awake and dressed. He had forgotten in his rush that she had stayed the night, had thought it might have been a dream.

“Good morning~!” she sang out, closing her laptop. She packed it into a small computer bag, then went to disable the screaming doorstop. Once disabled, she placed it on the coffee table.

“Morning,” he replied, groggily. He grabbed his briefcase and went to open the front door. Devon cut him off, opening it and poking her head out, checking the corridor. Barba caught himself rolling his eyes; he remembered that he resolved to be a “good victim” for her, no matter how ridiculous her safety precautions seemed. Once determined clear, they both made their way to the elevator. His phone went off and he looked to see who was texting him this early. Oh, Olivia. Of course.

Fin and Rollins are outside your loft, ready to take you to work

Barba couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes this time as he responded. I agreed to having one babysitter, not three

Liv wrote back almost immediately. Just get in the car, Barba

The elevator doors opened, and Devon took the lead again. Barba informed her that they had an escort this morning and who to look for.

Devon let out a giddy laugh at some unknown joke, and Barba wondered how someone could be so perky in the morning. “How Liv got Fin out of bed this early, I will never know.” Barba smiled at the fact that someone was as grumpy as he was and followed her over to the detective’s car. They greeted each other, and Barba saw Devon struggling to hide a smile as Fin was downright nasty. He said nothing as he waited for them to get in, Rollins not nearly as successful as Devon in hiding her smile at Fin’s expense.

1 Hogan Place

Friday, January 28th. 7:30am

Fin dropped them off in front of the DA’s building and barely waited for Barba and Devon to get out of the car before he peeled away.

“I know that some people aren’t morning people, but jeez,” Devon chuckled.

“And I thought that I was moody in the morning,” Barba replied. Devon turned to the doors but stopped when she saw Barba turn the opposite direction.

“Trying to ditch me already?” Devon admonished, whipping around to face the same direction.

“Of course not; I just want some good coffee before I have to deal with shitty office coffee,” Barba said. He looked both ways, then did a little jog across the street. Devon, seeing the only coffee stand across the street, kept up with the ADA easily. She looked around on high alert, looking at everyone who even glanced their way. She had her gun on her hip, like normal, but realized two things; 1) it would be too slow to reach for it if someone came at Barba with a gun already drawn, and 2) it probably wouldn’t look good to the public if she did have it drawn. Instead, she opted for the knife she kept strapped to her outer left thigh. It was over her clothes, but it had a button release so that it couldn’t be drawn without hitting the button. She hit that button now and kept the short throwing dagger in her left hand. She was ambidextrous when it came to hand-to-hand combat, including with knives; they were her specialty. She actually felt more competent with a knife than with a gun, but until recently, she hadn’t been given the OK to use them in the streets.

“Did you want something?” Barba asked, pulling Devon’s attention to him. She realized that they were standing at the window, Barba having already ordered. The barista was looking at her expectantly.

“Oh, sure, sorry. I’ll have a large mocha, please.” She looked at the menu really quick, realizing that she hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning, and added, “and a poppyseed muffin, please and thank you.” The barista nodded and went to grab the muffin. “Thank you,” she said to Barba as he pulled some bills out of his wallet.

“No problem,” he gave her a puzzled look. “Where were you just now?”

Devon gave another quick glance around their surroundings before answering, “I’m just trying to make sure you don’t die right now.” She said it as a joke, but the realness of it settled on Barba.

“Well, I’m glad you’re the one staying on top of it. I’m not even awake enough to consider throwing a punch right now,” he smirked, grabbing their coffees, and thanking the barista—Jordan, if memory served. Barba tried to hand Devon hers before realizing that her hands were taken up. He knew that she had a muffin, but he was shocked to see a knife glinting in her left hand. Devon hesitated a moment before sheathing the knife at her side—he didn’t even notice the holster strapped to her leg, it blended in well—and took the coffee.

“Thanks again,” she said before taking a sip. Barba opened his mouth to warn her; Jordan may run the best coffee stand in town, but his coffee was also notorious for being incredibly hot. But Devon was able to take a sip, not even flinching. She lowered the cup from her mouth, clicked her tongue a couple times, tasting the coffee, before swallowing and saying, “this coffee is hot as hell.”

Barba laughed at that; a nice sound, Devon noticed. She was glad that he seemed a little looser today than yesterday. Maybe it was just nerves that made him that crabby the day before. She couldn’t blame him; the flood of adrenaline and emotions that come from narrowly avoiding death can sour anyone’s mood, especially twice in as many days. At least this smoldering coffee would make for a good weapon, since she didn’t have the hands for a knife right now.

They quickly made their way back across the street, into the DA’s building. Barba was shocked when Devon didn’t insist on leading him; instead, they walked side by side. It was only once inside that he figured out why; the building was bustling, even this early. Attorneys, police officers, and other general people moved in and out of hallways, ducking into their offices. Barba and Devon weaved their way through the throng, quickly making it to his office. Once there, Devon ripped into the muffin while Barba prepared his first court case for the day. Devon offered him some of her muffin—“you should really eat something before going and standing all day”—but he declined; he had a stash of snacks in his desk. He pulled out a small package of nuts and ate them while he made sure his case was solid, or as solid as it was going to be, going over every little detail that he could think of. Once it was 8:30, Barba gathered his things, mentally aligning himself with his work self; he was in no way a saint outside the court, but he was downright devilish in the courtroom, and he knew it, prided himself on it.

Devon had since finished her muffin and mocha and stood when she saw Barba gathering his things. She made a last-minute decision, leaving her laptop behind; she wouldn’t be able to work in the gallery anyways. She muted her phone and followed Barba out of his office. What had always seemed like a short, easy walk from his office to the courthouse now seemed to take forever. Devon’s head was constantly on a swivel, watching the crowded street, marking every person who looked a little too long, who gave a weird look. One man reached into his pocket and Devon’s heart leapt into her throat until she saw him simply pull out his phone and start typing. This is going to be a very, very long job, she thought.

It was a relief when they made it to the stairs leading into the courthouse. If Barba felt any of the anxiousness that Devon did, he showed no sign of it. Instead, he seemed calm, collected. He took the lead up the stairs, and Devon let him. He knew the courthouse better than she did, so she let him lead her through the winding hallways, keeping an eye open to the people around. They made it to the courtroom, and Barba went up to his normal table, while Devon sat directly behind him, turning to look at everyone who opened the door behind her, just in case. She still didn’t particularly enjoy being in a courtroom, but her fear was much more manageable, thanks to the time she spent with ADA Casey Novak. This quickly became their routine for the whole day; they walked together to whichever courtroom Barba was assigned, He went to the table while she sat and watched from the gallery as he destroyed the defense’s case over and over again. Devon was impressed with how well he conducted himself in court, glad to see he was just as capable, even more so, than the past ADAs she dealt with. Then they would leave, sometimes going back to his office, but more likely, heading to another courtroom. They broke at around 2pm; they hid in Barba’s office and ordered takeout while he worked on some papers and she trolled the FBI database for information on the Aces. They barely got their food by the time Barba was called into the DA’s office to ask about the attempt on his life the day before. Devon was honestly shocked it took that long for his boss to mention anything. She strong-armed her way into the DA’s office with Barba, much to his chagrin. The DA—Jack McCoy—wasn’t too pleased about it, but she knew how to deal with his type. She let Barba relay in brief detail what had happened, and then explained that she was there to protect him. Seemingly satisfied with that, McCoy kicked them both out of his office. Afterwards, they hurried back to Barba’s office, and got a couple of bites in before it was time to go back to the courtroom.

“I’m sorry about this,” Barba said, indicating the food. “Don’t get much time to eat in this profession.”

“Don’t be, it’s fine. Work is work,” Devon smiled. She knew what it was like to not have a moment to yourself, let alone to eat. And the last thing Devon was, was a complainer. So, they went back to the courtrooms, the cases, the defense vs. the prosecution. It wasn’t until 6pm that they made it back to his office. Only two of the cases had ended in convictions today, but they were in Barba’s favor. Devon marveled at how well-spoken he was in court; she may be a negotiator, but she wanted to learn some of his tricks. Maybe she’d pick them up if she watched him work enough.

Barba put the takeout container down, sighing contently. “I promise that most days aren’t this intense. Maybe a week or two every other month. I’m not normally in court this often. I’m usually in here, prepping,” he gestured at his office.

“Why the big case load?” Devon asked. She was genuinely interested; she had never worked closely with a lawyer before, especially an ADA. She didn’t know the ins and outs, but if she learned, maybe she could add that profession to her repertoire of fake jobs she took while undercover.

Barba sat up a little straighter in his chair. “Besides the one case that got moved to today from yesterday, there was a huge sex trafficking bust a couple months ago. A lot of the people involved took a plea, but the ones who didn’t are finally getting processed. Those two cases from today will be continued tomorrow, but after that, it should slow down.”

Devon nodded. “I forget how long the courts take, sometimes. I’m actually surprised that their being processed only a couple of months after the fact.”

“Through some legal maneuvers, and with urges from the mayor, the DA was able to speed up their trials.”

Devon gave Barba a knowing look; she knew how the Big Bosses pushed around things that they wished to. Liv complained about 1PP all the time, and she had experienced it every now and again with the Feds.

“Well, I don’t mind; running around so much means time goes by much quicker.”

Barba smiled at that, “sometimes, too quick. Speaking of,” he looked at the time, “I think that’s it for tonight.”

Devon looked at the clock on the wall. 7:05pm. “Wow, calling it early, eh?”

“I try and not spend my whole life trapped here, as much as it appears otherwise,” he replied. Devon grinned, standing up. Barba stood as well, grabbing his things. Devon swung her laptop bag over her shoulder, unsheathed her knife—she wanted less conspicuous tonight, and her gun still felt heavy in her hand--and made her way to the door. Barba waited behind her, without prompting today, as she cracked open the door and made sure the coast was clear. It wasn’t until after the elevator doors opened, letting them off, that they noticed how many people were still around. Devon kept the knife by her side, though she kept her arm loose, flexible, ready to defend. But they met no obstacles as they made their way outside. Devon was shocked to see that Fin and Rollins were once again parked outside, readying to escort the two back to Barba’s place.

“Liv said she texted you,” Rollins said as an explanation. Taken aback, Devon took out her phone and noticed that there were a couple missed texts from Olivia. Then it dawned on her; her phone was still muted from earlier. She’d have to remember to keep it on vibrate from now on. She sent a quick apology text, promising to call once they were secured at Barba’s place.

Apartment of Rafael Barba

Friday, January 28th. 7:30pm

“Today wasn’t so bad,” Devon commented after hanging up her call with Liv.

Barba had been working on the coffee table again and looked up. “No, it really wasn’t. I hope I’m not being lulled into a false sense of security, what with no attempt on my life today.”

Devon was going to joke about how the night was still young but thought better of it. She realized that she still didn’t really know this man; she didn’t know his humor, and she didn’t want to worry him. Besides, today really had been pretty good; she didn’t notice anyone tailing them, or anyone threatening. But that just seemed to add to her anxiety; they went from back-to-back attacks to nothing. They could be taking this time to plan. She was going to have to be more alert the next day.

After a couple hours of work, they both said goodnight, and made their separate ways to bed. And with a full day together done, this became their framework for every day afterwards, never really deviating from the norm.

Apartment of Rafael Barba

Monday, March 16th. 9:36pm

“When did you join the FBI?” Barba asked. They were eating pizza for dinner in Barba’s loft. It had been almost 2 months since he was shot at, and Devon took on the job of bodyguard. There hadn’t been an attempt since, which only made Devon more nervous; her head was on a swivel, eyes never settling on anything for too long. Sleep had been becoming harder and harder for her, eyes snapping open at every creak. If Barba was feeling nervous, he didn’t show it; he just went about his day as if nothing were different. At least Liv had called the day before to tell them that 11 Aces were now in jail; the only good news they had gotten. But none of them were talking to the SVU detectives about the hit.

Devon thought about how much she wanted to say. She chose a simple answer. “I was recruited when I was 20.”

“Recruited? How do you get recruited to the FBI?”

Whoops, wrong use of words. “Carefully,” she said, smirking.

Barba knew her enough to know that he’d get nowhere if he pushed the subject. There were only a couple subjects that Devon avoided, mostly her childhood and family. Barba couldn’t tell yet if she locked her past away because of her training in the FBI, or because it was painful to revisit. To be completely fair, he dodged the question about his parents, too, when she retaliated after he asked her first.

After a pause, Devon asked, “why ADA?”

This was how almost every night went when they weren’t absorbed in their own work. One of them would break the silence with a question, and then they’d get sucked into hours-long discussions. They were slowly getting more comfortable with each other—easy to do when they were stuck with each other all day, every day. Devon had even followed Barba into the men’s restroom at the courthouse, to his embarrassment. It took some arguing, but she eventually checked every stall and left, not allowing anyone else in until Barba had finished and come back out, still red in the face.

“To be honest, it wasn’t my first choice…or a path I even considered until my last years in high school.” Barba thought back to his high school years, to his past career choices. He never had a “dream job;” he actually felt like he was living it now, even if it wasn’t something that had crossed his mind as a child. “I had no idea what I wanted to do as a kid. I played around with some stupid hobbies, but they didn’t pan out. So, in high school, I just started taking classes that sounded interesting. I ended up taking a criminology course and fell in love, as cliché as that sounds.” Barba smiled at the memory. “I did well enough that I got a full ride scholarship to Harvard.”

Devon nodded; she liked hearing stories of people finding themselves, finding their passions. She was glad that Barba seemed motivated; he actually loved his job, instead of being forced into it by his parents. Though, she was curious what his idea of “stupid hobbies” was.

Barba thought a moment, then asked, “you said you joined the FBI at age 20. Does that mean you skipped college?”

Devon grimaced. “Uh, yeah, I never even applied.” She tried to shut out the memories from that part of her life, but the familiar knot formed in her stomach.

“Say you quit the FBI; you’ve had enough, and you’re done with all of it. What profession would you go into?”

Devon thought for a long time. It had been so long since she even considered doing a different job. “I’m not sure, actually. I’ve been in the FBI for nearly two decades. They don’t exactly teach job skills outside of my profession.”

Barba scoffed, “come on, you must have had a dream job when you were a child, right? What would you have done if you never joined the FBI?”

Devon knew the answer to the latter, but she knew she couldn’t tell him. I’d be in jail. Instead, she answered, “I didn’t really have a dream job lined up. When I was in high school, I only ever thought about college as just a way to get away from my parents; I had no long-term goals. I honestly didn’t even see myself as attending college, not that I could’ve afforded it, anyways.”

Barba was at a loss for words. He tucked the small nugget of information about her family into his mind, which answered an earlier question; she didn’t talk about her family because it was painful. He could certainly understand that.

Both of them seemed to be content with letting the conversation die there. It was getting late anyways, and Barba had yet another early morning the next day, though not as early as that first day. They went through their nightly routines before saying their goodnights and heading to bed. They both had a little trouble sleeping that night, stuck in memories of past lives, both good and bad.

Apartment of Rafael Barba

Tuesday, March 17th. 4:00am

The next morning, their routine hadn’t changed. Devon was up first, showered, and ready for the day. She had a weird feeling in her gut, so she made sure she packed some gauze and an extra shirt in her laptop bag. She didn’t believe in superstitions, but she did know to listen to her gut; it’s saved her ass before. By the time she was ready, Barba was up and showering.

“Morning,” he grumbled when he came out, voice thick with sleep.

To the untrained eye, he didn’t look any different than normal; sharp suit, sharp hair, sharp cologne. But Devon could see the exhaustion in his expression, in his slightly stooped shoulders. “Couldn’t sleep?” A tired huff was his only reply. “Why don’t I make us some coffee? Carmen won’t care if you’re a little late today. ‘Sides, you don’t have an arraignment until 9:30—we got time.”

Barba was too tired to argue. He sat heavily in the armchair while Devon flitted about the kitchen, scooping coffee into Barba’s French press—something she had teased him about the first time he showed her how to use it (“how can some kid from the Bronx be such a coffee snob?”). While the water heated up, Devon examined Barba’s resting form; his eyes were closed, his breaths were soft. It was almost as if he had fallen back asleep. But he opened his eyes when he heard Devon move to pour the water into the pot. After a couple more minutes, letting the water seep into the coffee the perfect amount, Devon poured them both a healthy amount in to-go cups, pouring in the small amount of sugar she knew Barba liked, and the copious amounts she liked herself.

“Thanks,” Barba said with a small smile, standing and taking the cup from her. She smiled back, then headed for the door, checking the corridor like normal before leading him down to the street.

“What took so long?” Amaro said by way of greeting, though there was no real anger in his voice. Rollins made eye contact with Devon and raised her eyebrows. Devon, oblivious, shrugged and got in the back with Barba.

“Made some coffee this morning. We were up late working,” Devon replied. Rollins’s smile grew, and even Amaro made eye contact with Devon in the rearview mirror.

“Oh yeah? Working on what?” Amaro asked accusingly.

“Get your minds out of the gutter, detectives,” Barba spat before taking a long sip of coffee. If Devon didn’t know any better, she’d swear she saw a blush on his cheeks. But why is he blush—oh, Devon thought, feeling her own face turn red. Is that what they thought they were doing last night? She took her own sip of coffee, attempting to hide her face. They sat in silence for the rest of the car ride, trying to ignore the tension in the backseat.

1 Hogan Place

Tuesday, March 17th. 8:30am

All of the detectives have learned to drop Devon and Barba off across the street from the DA’s building at this point, so that they could get their morning coffee. Even though they both had a cup in their hands, the habit was hard to break, and Amaro dropped them off in the normal spot.

“Idiots,” Barba mumbled as they drove off, and Devon didn’t think it had anything to do with where they were dropped off. Her face was still red, and she couldn’t look at Barba directly. Glad to see SVU is still a gossip ring, she thought.

“Let’s at least grab some breakfast,” she suggested, walking towards Jordan’s coffee stand. Those muffins really were delicious. She heard Barba sigh and follow her.

The tension in the air was still tight, and Devon desperately wanted to say something to change the subject, but nothing came to mind. She looked down at the coffee in her hand, coming up with a weak topic.

“Hey, feeling more awake now?” she asked sheepishly. When Barba didn’t answer, she chanced a glance at him. His mouth was slightly ajar, eyes wide in shock and fear, locked on something over Devon’s right shoulder. Instinct took over, and she threw herself in front of him, coffee flying out of her hand. She had her forearm pushed across his chest, shoving him against the coffee cart, her face inches from his. She felt a pressure that turned to pain in her right shoulder, but adrenaline had taken over, and the pain was soon forgotten. Without missing a beat, Devon whipped around and saw one of the men from the night in the alley—Rogelio Olivera—looking shocked and backing away slowly. His arm was raised, but nothing was in his hand, which seemed odd to her. But she had no time to think about it as she used her momentum, turning towards him to punch him in the face with her left fist. Rogelio went sprawling onto the ground.

Movement in the corner of Devon’s eye caught her attention. Jose, the younger brother and the other man from the alley, was trying to use the diversion his brother set up to attack Devon, knife gripped in his hand. He swung it towards her gut, but she blocked, throwing her right forearm haphazardly into his hard enough that he dropped his weapon. She pushed down on him, letting his momentum carry him downwards, and she punched him hard on the spine with her left, dropping him to the ground. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out one of her pairs of handcuffs and cuffed him before he could regain his composure. She couldn’t get a grip on his wrists with her right hand, though—there was so much blood on her hand, it made everything slippery. In the rush, Devon didn’t think about where the blood came from, nor the fact that the muscles in her right hand weren’t working correctly. Instead, she pushed a knee between his shoulders, forced his hands together with her left, and somehow cuffed him with the right.

“Stop resisting,” she said. Shockingly, he laid still, turning his attention to the right. Devon saw the movement and followed his line of sight to his brother.

Rogelio, who was just getting to his feet, gave his brother a guilty look. He was just out of reach of Devon, so she instead reached for her knife on her thigh. Rogelio saw his chance and took it; he turned and ran. He only made it a couple steps by the time Devon had cocked back her left arm and threw her knife. It twirled through the air perfectly, blade over handle, before embedding itself into his left calf. He stumbled to the ground, yelping in pain.

Devon looked to Barba, who’s mouth was agape in shock and awe, and commanded, “call 911 now. Tell them we need a bus and an officer.” With that, she sat Jose up, telling him not to move, and then made her way to Rogelio. He was clutching his calf, which was bleeding but not gushing, and looked like he was going for the knife. “Leave that there; you’ll bleed out if you don’t,” she advised. She felt like handcuffs were kind of unnecessary at this point, so she half helped, half dragged him to where his brother was sitting quietly, possibly in shock as he stared at the knife protruding from his brother’s leg.

She looked up as Barba hung up his phone, his hands shaking, eyes still wide. “Are you okay?” she asked. In the madness, she never looked to see if he was injured or not. Mentally, she berated herself for even letting this two get close enough to attack, getting distracted by some idiotic rumors. Stupid….

“I’m fine; are you okay?” His voice was full of concern. When Devon squinted in confusion, he continued, “there’s a knife in your shoulder.”

As if he had spoken it into existence, pain shot through her right shoulder. She looked and was able to make out the hilt sticking out of her back. That…explains a lot, she thought, remembering the pain she felt earlier after shielding Barba, the blood, and not being able to use her hand while cuffing Jose. She looked at her right hand, now covered in red, flexing and closing her fingers. At least those still worked, albeit weakly, but she was unwilling to test the full motion of her arm, at least until the knife was removed.

“Never better,” she tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace. Sirens were going off in the distance; the ambulance was coming. Devon looked around at the gathering crowd, noticing that most of them had phones out, filming everything. Great; if the Aces didn’t know Barba had protection, they did now. With any luck, they wouldn’t hire anyone outside the gang to take him out; hopefully, it was a personal enough hit that they wouldn’t outsource. Either way, Devon was going to have to make some calls, keep an eye on known hitmen. She ignored the people murmuring about police brutality, and just tried to focus on the next steps. No one looked like they were about to take a shot at Barba, but she still hovered near his side, just in case. The pain in her shoulder hurt, but it wasn’t extreme; she’d had worse before. Though, the blood starting to pool at her feet, dripping off her fingers, wasn’t a great sign. At least she had extra gauze and an extra shirt. Always follow those gut instincts.

The ambulance arrived a few moments later, three cop cars right behind it. One set of cops took Jose into custody while another set took Rogelio to the back of the ambulance. Devon followed, handing the EMT her card and asking for her knife to be returned to her after it was taken out. The EMT looked a little disgusted with her priorities but took the card anyways.

“That was a little tactless,” Barba said.

“That was a really good knife,” Devon replied.

The last two cops came to check on Devon and Barba, get their statements. Once they saw the handle sticking out of Devon’s shoulder, though, they called an EMT over. Devon had lost enough blood to feel woozy, but not enough that the EMT could convince her to go to the hospital. Being a torso wound, the EMT could dislodge it right there, after discerning that no major arteries were hit, though he did so begrudgingly, saying that she should really go to the hospital. After the knife was removed, and Devon received 8 stitches, she went through the whole range of motions that she could; it seemed like the knife had missed the important stuff, though she couldn’t raise her right arm above her head. The EMT gave her a look before forcing her to sit still and wrapping her in gauze. Statements given, and all patched up, Devon led Barba into the courthouse and away from the growing crowd. With the time wasted, they were now running late for Barba’s first arraignment of the day.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You should go to the hospital,” Barba said once away from the peering faces.

Devon focused on walking straight, one foot in front of the other, trying to block out the pain, the wooziness. “I’m fine, really. This isn’t the first time I’ve been stabbed.” Barba whipped to look at her, trying to find out if she was joking or not. “Besides, how are you feeling? You’re due in court”—she looked at her phone—“2 minutes from now. Are you feeling up to it? Should I convince the judge to give you a continuous?”

After the attack, Barba’s hands had been shaking. From fear, adrenaline, or worry, he didn’t know; maybe it was a mix of all the above. But with how long it took to give statements to the officers, to remove the knife and get Devon patched up, and then her fighting with the EMTs to not go to the hospital, Barba’s nerves had calmed down. At least a little bit; better than nothing.

“I’m fine; it’s only arraignments,” he replied. She shot him a skeptical look; they didn’t have time to eat their breakfast and they didn’t have time to make any coffee in his office. He was going to say more to try and reassure her, but they had arrived at the courtroom he needed to go preach law into anyways. Barba had a sudden thought, looking at Devon, or more importantly, the state of her clothes; her shirt, though black, was sticky and turning hard from dried blood. Sitting behind her, one could even see the stab hole in the fabric, the white of the gauze peeking through. In the craziness of the attack, Devon had dropped her laptop bag, and had completely forgotten to change clothes. Barba took the overcoat he had been carrying and held it up for Devon to put on.

“Here, wear this,” he prompted.

Ever sharp, even with her woozy mind, Devon understood immediately, slipping her arms into the sleeves and shrugging the heavy coat on. The winter jacket was way too hot to be worn in the courtroom, but it was better than having a bloodied Federal Agent in the front row of the gallery. Plus, it was only arraignments; they didn’t take long. It also smells like his cologne…she thought, wistfully, mind drifting.

“You’re late, Mr. Barba,” Judge Barth admonished when they both finally walked into the courtroom. He had some snappy comment that Devon missed; she spent all her attention on making it to the bench on wobbly legs.

Devon dutifully sat in the front row of the gallery, right behind Barba. He gave her one more once-over, noticing how her eyelids drooped and how pained she looked, sweat on her brow, before switching his mind into ADA-mode. He could worry about her injury later.

Luckily, it was only a couple arraignments, so after 2 hours, they were headed back to Barba’s office. Devon seemed alert, but not like normal; it was almost as if she was relying more on instincts than on thoughts. Her eyelids were still drooping, her footsteps seemed heavier, and she wasn’t looking around as much as she usually did. But she still hung close to his side protectively, uninjured hand resting on her gun hidden under Barba’s jacket that she was still wearing. They made it quickly to his office, Devon making it through the door first, to make sure no one unexpected was occupying his office. Once cleared, she all but collapsed onto the short couch against the wall, letting out a grunt of pain.

“No calls or visits, please,” Barba said to Carmen. She nodded, and he closed the door, throwing the lock. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call an ambulance for you?”

Devon turned to shoot him a glare, but in this state, it fell flat. “If you ask me that one more time, you’re going to be the one who needs the ambulance.”

Barba would have laughed at that, but he was too worried about her to manage it. He went over to the little water cooler he had put in—sometimes he needed something besides coffee, only sometimes—and filled a cup. He forced it into Devon’s hand, the left one, the uninjured one. She drank the whole thing gratefully, and he went to refill it.

While he did, she shrugged out of his coat, grimacing at the motion. “Thank god I brought an extra shirt. Though, I don’t think I can put it on,” she chuckled softly, then winced as her mirth cause her body to shake her shoulder painfully. Oh, this was going to suck.

Barba handed her the second glass of water then said, voice barely above a whisper, “I can help…if you want, of course.” She sipped at the water this time rather than chugging it, shocked that he’d offer. Normally, she wouldn’t care if someone she counted as a friend helped her put on a shirt while she was injured. And she did count Barba as a friend. But the conversation with Amaro and Rollins came flooding back, making her hesitate. Did he think of her as a friend?

“Go for it,” she replied drily, trying to play it off as nothing. As if it were just another work thing. As if she didn’t care. Barba nodded, going to where her bag was on one of the chairs, digging through it until her found the extra shirt she had packed that morning. Grabbing it, he came back over to her. Devon moved to sit on the arm of the couch, feet on the cushions. He sucked in a breath as he stood behind her, preparing himself for what he was about to do; he’d never helped dress someone before…well, besides maybe shoving discarded clothes into someone’s arms after a night together. He was glad that her back was to him, that she couldn’t see the blush on his face. Devon grabbed the hem of her shirt and raised it as high as her hurt arm allowed. Gently, he unstuck her shirt from her shoulder—it was still caked in dried blood—and pulled it off of her, left arm first, then over her head, then off her right arm.

He found himself caught staring at the patch of gauze, stark white against Devon’s otherwise tan skin. There was a little bit of red, only a little, to show that some blood had seeped into the material but had since stopped. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to check; he knew that the EMTs already did, but deep down, he had to know for himself, what he had narrowly avoided. And how much she was now hurt because of him. This was all his fault, he knew; if he had warned her, if he made them go to his office instead of out in the wide open, if he didn’t have a target on himself, then Devon would be fine. She would be enjoying her time off after three years of whatever hell she had endured in California.

His gaze wandered from the patch on her shoulder to the rest of her broad back, starting with her other shoulder, than travelling down her spine, then resting on where the waistband of her slacks rested on her hips. She was littered with scars, most of them thin lines of white, but others that were longer, thicker, some that were straight, some curved. One of them even looked like a bullet hole down by her hip. Barba fought the urge to trace the markings along her back, wondering how she had gotten them all.

Devon had winced as Barba removed the ruined shirt from her—a part of her was shocked with how gentle he could be. But she resolved not to make a noise; she didn’t want to seem weak to him, to seem too injured. Besides, sitting and drinking water was already helping her wooziness and nausea, though she knew that she needed food. After what seemed like forever of him being silent behind her, she cleared her throat.

“Sorry,” Barba murmured, shaking himself, ripping his eyes away from a particularly long, thin scar across her spine. He moved to scrunch the shirt up to the right sleeve, slipping that over her injured arm, before helping it over her head and other arm. She fixed the hem while he checked her glass of water, which was still half-full, before sitting at his desk. He pulled out his phone and called in an order from his favorite Chinese place—he already knew Devon’s order after spending this much time together. While he was doing that, Devon felt like she should warn Olivia about the encounter. Devon knew it would get back to her eventually, better to get in front of it.

Just so you know, I was able to subdue and arrest two Aces in front of the DA’s Building

Olivia wrote back immediately. Good work. Is Barba okay?

All business with her, like usual. He’s fine, no injuries. I’m sure it’s already viral

There was silence for a couple minutes before her phone lit up. YOU WERE STABBED? Are you alright? Are you at the hospital? Is Barba with you? Devon laughed, knowing Liv must have seen one of the many, shitty phone videos of the attack.

I’m fine; Barba and I are safe in his office, ordering lunch. An EMT stitched me up; no worries. I’ll call you tonight with more details.

Devon put her phone away before she could see Liv’s reply; she didn’t have the strength to fight off both Barba and Olivia worrying about her health. Barba hung up shortly afterwards.

“Thank you, by the way. That’s twice now that you’ve saved my life,” Barba said.

Devon waved him off. “All in a day’s work,” she smiled, then grimaced in pain.

It looked like he was going to ask if she was alright again but thought better of it when he saw the glare she shot him. He instead changed the subject. “How did you throw your knife so accurately?”

She grinned at some inside joke, then answered almost sheepishly, “many, many years of practice. I’m still practicing.”

Barba looked impressed. “It was pretty amazing to watch. It was like something in a James Bond movie; I never thought I’d see something like that in real life, with my own eyes.”

Devon smirked to herself; the fact that Barba even watched James Bond was weirdly funny to her. “Wanna know something stupid?” Barba perked up. “I started teaching myself to throw knives when I was 13, because I thought it would make me look cool. Then, when I joined the Bureau, I thought that it was a great skill to master. So, I could be a cool, super-agent like some shitty action movie.”

“You’re right; that is stupid,” Barba replied. A beat of silence, then they were both laughing, at least until Devon’s laugh turned into a groan and she grabbed her shoulder. Barba went straight into worried again, launching out of his chair. He made it halfway around the desk before Devon waved him off.

Once the pain subsided, Devon said, “well, it may be stupid, but it has come in handy plenty of times. I think that it’s the element of surprise; no one actually predicts someone to throw a knife at them. Not in real life, and not accurately.”

At that moment, food had arrived. Devon still didn’t know how Barba got lunch delivered so quickly, and he refused to give away his secret. They both hungrily scarfed down most of their food before a thought occurred to Devon, something that she should have asked the day she took this job.

“Do you know how to defend yourself? In anyway besides that mouth of yours?”

Barba finished chewing and swallowed. “I think the last fight I was in was when I was 15. And it wasn’t really a fight. It was more a kid beating me up until my friend chased them off.”

“So, no. Awesome. We’re going to fix that, starting tonight.”

“Tonight? Did you forget that you were stabbed today? You are going to take it easy tonight.”

Devon shot an annoyed look at him. “Is Mr. Never-been-in-a-real-fight trying to boss me around?”

Barba shot a glare right back. If looks could kill, then Barba would at least have some sort of self-defense training. “Damn straight I am. Early night tonight, and you’re going to sleep in a bed. That couch cannot be comfortable.”

“Oh-ho, really? You’re not the only one who relies on spite, Barbs. Besides, injured shoulder or not, I could still kick your ass. And the couch is fine.”

Barba was taken aback by that; not so much the threat, but what she had called him. Barbs. As far as he knew, she didn’t call anyone by a nickname, except for Fin and Liv. And anyone who called Fin by his full name was either not a friend or would not be around long.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it. But I’d feel better if you were at 100% before hurting yourself on me,” he looked at her over his takeout box, “and yes, the bed. This isn’t a negotiation.”

“And I’d feel better if you knew at least basic self-defense,” she countered, “and you’re right; this isn’t a negotiation. I will sleep where I want.” Stalemate, how most of their arguments ended. She knew he was done talking about it as he rolled his eyes and stabbed what remained of his lunch.

The rest of the day went normally, or as normally as it could; Barba only had the arraignments in the morning, so they hadn’t left his office until 5pm on the dot. Early night indeed. Devon still went through the motions of checking the hallways as they left, keeping Barba behind her, even though he was pretty sure she couldn’t do much in way of protection, though Devon disagreed (“I only need one working arm to use a gun, Barbs”). They met no resistance and made it to the street. They hailed a cab—the detectives were in a flurry after the attack today--and made it to the loft promptly.

Apartment of Rafael Barba

Tuesday, March 17th. 5:42pm

Devon still insisted on Barba placing his hand on her back as she cleared each room. He tried to touch her gently, keeping to her left. Devon thought it was sweet, but she was getting a little annoyed by the kid-gloves he was treating her with.

Once the nightly routine was done, Devon said, “you know I’m still teaching you some self-defense tonight, right?” Barba started to argue, but she overrode him, “nothing too physical. More positions and motions tonight. We can practice them in full when the stitches come out. Deal?”

He huffed; there really was no way to win an argument with her, was there? He may be a successful lawyer, but he could not outtalk the agent when she had her mind set. Stubborn, like him. “Deal,” he replied begrudgingly. They moved the furniture to the walls, giving them enough room to move comfortably. Barba discarded his suit jacket and tie, rolling up his shirtsleeves to the elbow. Devon shed his winter jacket—he let her wear it again for the ride home—and gun, placing them on the table. She then went through the most basic ways to break someone’s hold, whether they were grabbing an arm, a wrist, or the torso from behind. Surprisingly, Barba picked it up quickly. He had some muscle despite being an attorney.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” he said when she commented on it.

“That’s a good thing, promise,” she laughed. Her shoulder was hurting, but it was more of a dull thrum in the back of her mind. Plus, she knew if she mentioned it, or winced at all, that he would call the exercise to and end, and she didn’t want to stop this night yet. She was enjoying teaching him something, his eyes bright with focus, and then watching him recreate the steps. Maybe she’d retire and teach self-defense classes one day, if she was lucky enough to have the chance to retire. “Last one for the night, then we can stop.” Barba nodded and she taught him how to flip a person that grabs him from behind over his shoulder, then mount them, ready to attack the face and chest of his attacker. Simple.

“We’re not going to actually flip each other,” Devon said when Barba started to protest.

“Better not,” he replied. “Now show me the steps again.”

At this point, Devon had almost completely forgotten about the pain in her shoulder; it was a constant throb, but it blended into the background as she focused on the steps. She grabbed Barba by the arm gently as she demonstrated, without actually throwing him, what to do slowly. Barba found that he enjoyed having her teach him things, especially if it meant that she could ease up on her vigilance. It was also a plus that she was touching him, not in a sexual way, but her strong hands on his sweaty skin was enough to make his heart beat faster. He could feel the strength in her powerful form; her hands, arms, back, legs. Every bit of her was muscle.

“May I flip you over my uninjured shoulder? I’ll put the sofa cushions down first. You’ll be safe, I promise,” Devon asked. “But it’s important to teach you how to go from leaning over a prone attacker to on top of them.”

Barba sighed and reluctantly agreed. She always got what she wanted. “But only if you use your left.” Devon nodded and they both stripped the couch of cushions. Barba felt nervous as he stepped up behind her. The thought of flying through the air was exhilarating, but not something that Barba ever thought he’d be doing on a weekday evening in his loft with an FBI agent. He forced himself to breath, to keep his eyes open so that he could pay attention, as he wrapped his arms around Devon’s torso. She pretended to elbow him in the gut, like she showed him, and he let go. She then grabbed him by the arm and threw him over her left shoulder. His world spun until he landed flat on his back, Devon didn’t move, waiting for him to lock eyes with her.

“You okay?” she asked.

He grinned back up at her, feeling oddly alive. “Never better,” he parroted her words from earlier back to her. She smiled back, then went through the next steps slowly, narrating as she went, until she was straddling his hips, knees pinning his hands into the cushions by his sides, hands raised as if she were going to punch him in the face. He fought to keep the blush from creeping up his neck, hoping that Devon would attribute his red face to how hot he was from the workout.

“Got it?”

“I think so.”

She got off him, held out her hand. He took it and she helped him up.

“Now it’s your turn,” she announced. The thought of him straddling her was enough to get the blush to fully infiltrate his face. He turned away, nodding as he did, hoping that she would miss the redness creeping around his ears and neck. Instead, he stood at the cushions, facing away from her.

Devon came up behind Barba and wrapped her arms around his torso. She smelled his cologne, mixing with his sweat, and felt his rapid breathing against her body through his back, matching her own breathing. She hoped he couldn’t feel her heart fluttering in her chest. They’d been doing this for a couple hours and were both slightly out of breath. Bracing herself, she tightened her arms, signaling the start of the exercise. Barba positioned his feet the way she showed him, fake hit her, and bent forward. Devon felt weightless as she was thrown over his shoulder, then slammed into the cushions. Pain shot through her shoulder and she whimpered in pain. Barba, though, was already following the motions that she had shown him, straddling her hips, fist raised above her head in mock-fight. It took him a moment to recognize the pain in her face, to realize what he had done.

“Ah mierda, estas bien? (Holy shit, are you okay?) Did I hurt you?” he asked, dropping his hand from fist to cupping her cheek, searching her eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she breathed, heart fluttering and not entirely from pain. Barba leaned down closer, scanning her face for any sign of a lie. “Good form.”

At that moment, there was a knock on the door. Both of them whipped their heads to look at the door. “You expecting company?” Devon asked. Barba shook his head, then scrambled off of her. Devon pushed herself off the floor with her left arm—her right buckled in pain when she put pressure on it--grabbed her discarded gun and aimed it at the door. She moved slowly, carefully, towards the door. Another round of knocking rang out.

“Dev? Barba? It’s Olivia,” Liv’s voice called through the door. Breathing a sigh of relief, Devon made it to the door and looked out the eyehole; it was indeed Liv. Not taking any chances, Devon kept the gun aimed as she unlocked the door. She motioned for Barba to stay put, well away and out of line of sight of the door. Devon opened the door, pushed past the shocked Olivia—she did have a gun in her face when the door opened—and checked the hallways.

“Clear,” she called out, beckoning Liv inside.

Once the door was closed and relocked, Liv took in the pushed aside furniture and cushions on the ground, before asking, “what happened today? Are you alright?”

Devon spent the next couple minutes going over the ordeal from that morning, Barba interjecting a couple of times with his point of view, but otherwise staying silent. Devon then spent the next half hour convincing Liv that: yes she was okay, no she didn’t need to go to the hospital, yes she could still protect Barba, no she didn’t need backup. Barba had surprisingly backed her up, saying that she seemed completely capable. Devon was slightly touched at the gesture, her heart clenching with his support.

Olivia sighed. “Well, the other reason I wanted to stop by was to give you an update on our side. The NYPD have collectively caught another 8 Aces, putting the total at 21 incarcerated. If that number of 65 gang members is accurate, then there’s only 44 left.”

“Only 44?” Barba commented, incredulous.

“Better than 65, yeah?” Devon shot back. Barba rolled his eyes but didn’t answer. She did have a point; 44 was less than 65. But 44 people with the potential to kill him left a twisting feeling in his gut that he fought to ignore.

Liv nodded. “We have patrols working around the clock to pick up members. But they know we’re on them; a lot of them have gone into hiding. And those videos of you taking down two of them in front of the DA Building isn’t doing us any favors.

Devon shrugged. “As Munch would say, good ol’ Big Brother looking out for the gang members in that sense.” They talked for a few more minutes about a couple of known hideouts before Olivia excused herself. Devon locked the door after she had left and stretched. Once her right arm was level with her head, she grimaced and dropped it.

Barba was instantly by her side. “Let me see it; I may have pulled the stitches when I flipped you.” Devon didn’t object as he pulled back her shirt, being even more gentle than when he examined her in his office. “Can I take the gauze off? The EMT said that we should change it out tonight.”

“Let’s get the replacement ready, first,” Devon replied. As Barba went to grab gauze from her grip, she struggled to get out of her shirt.

Gauze in hand, Barba looked up to see her struggling to get her shirt over her head. They locked eyes for the briefest moment before Barba quickly adverted his eyes, cheeks turning red.

“Oh, stop playing choir boy and come help me,” Devon huffed, hiding her own face in the fabric of the shirt she was tangled in. Barba made his way over, his ears turning bright red. He grasped the cloth and gently pulled it up and over her head. He discarded it on the back of the armchair, moving to stand behind her once more. He didn’t know why he was so embarrassed by this—he helped her change earlier today. And while he was struggling with his emotions then, too, this seemed more…intimate. Maybe it was because Devon was essentially stripping in his living room rather than his office. Either way, he needed to get his mind out of his pants. Though, his eyes still got pulled from the white patch of gauze to the scars painting her back. Unlike in his office, Barba wasn’t able to stop himself from touching the longest scar on her back, his fingertip ghosting over the white line that stretched from just under her left shoulder blade and leading to under the gauze. Goosebumps sprung up under his finger, and Devon’s breathing hitched.

“What caused this?” Barba breathed, voice barely a whisper. He wasn’t actually expecting an answer, so he was shocked when Devon cleared her throat.

“I believe that one was a leather belt,” Devon muttered. They sat in silence, Devon unwilling to continue, and Barba unwilling to ask for more. Instead, he set about changing the gauze, questions swirling in his mind…though, he was pretty sure he was starting to get an answer.

He slowly pulled off the old gauze on her shoulder. The stitches were still intact, and there was no new blood on or around the wound. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. How could he be so stupid? He knew she was injured, fought against training tonight. But still, he lost focus, he let her call the shots, and it got her hurt. He chastised himself for hurting her; she saves his life, takes a goddamn knife for him, and he slams her onto the ground. If he hadn’t distracted her this morning, if he hadn’t relaxed his guard, then maybe—

“You alright back there?” she asked, pulling him out of his self-hating spiral. He gently placed the new gauze over the wound, pushing it down against her warm skin. Devon sucked in a breath through her teeth, straightening her back at the pain.

“Let me get you an ice pack,” he said over his shoulder as he walked to the kitchen. He needed a moment to collect himself, to get away from the heat in the room, and to also let her get dressed...if she could on her own. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the blood rushing through him, and grabbed the ice pack from the freezer before coming back out to her. She had, thankfully, got into her oversized, pajama shirt by herself.

“Sit,” he ordered. Devon obeyed, sitting in the armchair. Barba had her lean forward, then placed the ice pack between the chair and her shoulder—she jumped at the coolness seeping through her new shirt and gauze--and ordered her to lean back into the chair, holding it in place. She relaxed into the chair, eyes closed at the comfort she felt almost immediately; she hadn’t noticed how hot her skin was in that area...compared to the rest of her that was on fire from his touch. Barba sat on the arm of the loveseat and watched her face. All the tension left her features, making her look younger. He never noticed how much stress she had around her eyes until this moment, something that he noticed with others in this line of work. He was shocked he hadn’t noticed until now, when she was relaxed; her attitude, her…liveliness often exuded off her, making her seem much more jovial than the stress on her face showed. He suddenly wondered how much hardship she had gone through in her life, as an agent and otherwise.

Devon sat like that for a couple moments, and Barba felt like he could stare at her in comfort forever. Memories came flooding back to him; that first night when they sat so close to each other on the armchair, her smile and perky “good morning~!” every day, her eyes and body language when she was alert—dangerous, protective—Amaro and Rollins having their fantasies about why they were late, him straddling her in his living room, hand cupping her face as he made sure she was alright. The scars covering her back like a living tattoo proving that she had lived a full, hard life, yet still found a way to smile.

Oh…he thought before he mentally shook himself; he would not allow those feelings to manifest. He’d learned long ago that that path wasn’t a viable option, that it was his lot in life to be alone, and he’d be damned if his resolve would break after only a couple months with this woman. So, he locked away those memories and feelings, shoving them in a tight little metal box in his heart and throwing away the key.

“I’m fine, really,” Devon finally said, opening her eyes. She looked at Barba, found him staring at her, eyes boring into hers. “That was just a stupid mistake; I got carried away in our training. I’m sorry to put you in that situation.”

“It’s my fault; I knew that you were hurt, and I still went along with it.”

Devon chuckled. “We’re going to get nowhere in a conversation if we keep hogging the blame and self-deprecation. Let’s just say that mistakes were made and leave it at that.”

Barba agreed verbally, but he didn’t really believe it. He knew better, needed to be better. After waiting the allotted 30 minutes that the EMT advised, Barba stood, taking the icepack from her and returning it to the freezer. “We should both go to bed,” he said.

Devon nodded, moving to the loveseat. She knew that she’d be up for a couple more hours doing work, but she couldn’t tell him that. She learned early on that he’d get annoyed if she stayed up half the night working—whether it was a worry about her not being alert the next day, or just a concern for her sleeping habits, she didn’t know--but she just couldn’t force herself to go to sleep. She couldn’t turn her mind off. It was hard enough to sleep at night as it was, and with the attack that happened earlier, tonight was going to be even harder.

“You’re sleeping in the bed tonight, remember? I’ll take the couch,” Barba reminded her.

Devon chuckled and made a big show of stretching out on the couch. “It’s so funny when you think you can order me around.”

Barba gave her a look. “You order me around all the time.”

“And you obey, like, 60% of the time. I appreciate that. Now, off to bed with you,” she gave him a little wave towards the hallway, dismissing him.

He shook his head in disbelief. This woman really knew how to push his buttons. “I’m serious; this couch isn’t good for you. You’re injured.”

Devon pretended to be deep in thought, finger on her chin, before saying, “nah, I like the couch. Goodnight, Barbs.”

This was getting him nowhere; if she wanted to sleep here, then fine. He tried to be polite, gentlemanly, but if chivalry really was dead, then she’s the one who killed it. As he started making his way down the hallway, he stopped, looking over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised. “Barbs?”

“It’s quicker than saying Barba; only one syllable. Does it bother you?”

He could tell by her tone that she did actually care if it bothered him; if he said yes, then he knew she’d never use it again. But, if truth be told, he rather liked it; a name for him that only she used. It was kind of…cute, in a way. “It’s fine,” he replied, turning back to his bedroom door, a small smile on his lips.

Once he was closed off in his room, Devon pulled out her laptop. She started in on her daily report for Liv, but soon enough, her mind started to wander. She learned something new tonight, something that she didn’t want to admit to herself. But she knew that now, while alone, was the best time to go through it; she had to take the thought out, examine it, understand it, and then lock it away.

She couldn’t deny the feelings and thoughts that she had when Barba had straddled her, or when he touched her back, feelings that had appeared briefly that morning in his office, while he helped her change shirts. The heat that had flooded her face, among other places. And sure, pain was one of those feelings as well, but even that went away when he had cupped her face, had looked at her with such concern in his bright green eyes. It was as if time had stopped; she didn’t even hear what he said to her, though his mouth was moving. That was the moment she had noticed; she had feelings for him. How the hell that had happened, she wasn’t quite sure. Now sitting and thinking about it, she realized that she liked quite a bit about him. She liked how he dressed, his smell, his vocabulary, how he worked, his mannerisms and little quirks. She liked that he tapped his pen when deep in thought. She liked that he mumbled to himself while doing paperwork. She liked how his eyes lit up when he was focused, or when he thought of the perfect argument for a case. She liked the brief, accidental touches, just a brush of a hand, when they were both working on his desk. And the longer, less accidental touches, like when she grabbed his hand and dragged him to the coffee stand, or when they smushed too close in the crowded elevator, his cologne strong in her nose. Maybe it was because she had never spent this long living with someone before. Maybe it was because the past three years have left her emotionally drained, vulnerable. In any case, there was no chance of…whatever they could be from happening. 1) She had a strict no-dating rule with victims, whether he played a victim or not. And 2) she didn’t “do” relationships. She didn’t have the time, energy, or patience to dedicate herself to someone else. Sure, she had taken out some stress in someone’s bed before, but she never had repeats—one and done was her motto. She refused to let someone have that part of her; she kept her heart locked in a stronghold. So, how in the hell did Rafael Barba make his way through the drawbridge when she had thought it was up?

#everyone deserves love #edl #edl ch 5 #everyone deserves love chapter 5 #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #rafael barba x oc #fanfic #my writing #amaro and rollins totes gossip #all the time #about everyone

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foodcourtdetective · 5 years

Text

thinking too hard

summary: barry berkman has been trying to forget about his soulmate for both of their sakes, but Y/N is making it very hard and using their soulmate connection to draw all over him.

tags: angsty, soulmate au, love at first sight, very brief Barry x Sally, definitely a happy ending!

A/N: I’m just really into soulmate!au’s and Barry Berkman okay?!?! (and // means time passes)

word count 2.4k

AO3 x

He hated Los Angeles. Barry’s long sleeve shirt stuck to him in the desert heat, sweat pooling in his armpits and on his back. NoHank asked him about his outfit choice, offering him a short-sleeved shirt or a tank top.

“You want to take one of their shirts? They won’t mind, they’re confident in their bodies!” NoHank said, gesturing over to the Chechen recruits. Barry shook his head, clearing his throat in discomfort. After a moment, NoHank made a movement to push up Barry’s sleeves for him, but Barry was too quick and grabbed NoHank’s pinky, bending it all the way back.

“Shit shit, okay okay! Someone has body issues! We will talk about accepting your body some other time then.” Barry ignored him, staring coldly ahead as the young Chechen recruit finally hit a beer can with his bullet.

When he finally got back to his apartment, Barry made a beeline for the bathroom, nodding briefly at Jermaine and Nick on his way. After peeling off his shirt and grabbing the sink, Barry took a look at his body or rather what was on it. Today, his soulmate had kept it simple: a heart on his wrist, a note to pick up two lattes at 9, and a flower chain that started at his trigger finger and trailed all the way up his forearm. He sighed, holding back a soft smile as her traced up the stem of flowers with his other pointer fingers. As he ended the journey at his inner forearm, Barry stopped to see a less traditional note: written on his upper chest right over his heart, in simple cursive, it read please talk to me, Barry. A deep sigh filled the tiny bathroom and he gently caressed their handwriting. The familiar movement triggered a whirl of memories.

Writing excitedly on his leg the moment he turned sixteen to introduce himself to his soulmate only to get no response. Giving up on love and joining the Marines shortly after. Noticing the shy hello scribbled on his hand seven years later when he was already too far gone. Writing to them any chance he got once he find out the silence was because they had not been old enough yet. Learning her name was Y/N and that she lived in California. Having to break off communication once Fuches put him to work. The sharp lines she had drawn as she had asked if he could feel the sharp indent of her pen, told him that ignoring them for their own good was ridiculous. The obscene images Y/N had drawn all over him the first couple of years, trying to get an angry message from him, any message.

His heart sank, but Barry knew as much as it hurt both of them, it was better for them to move on, to pretend to not have a soulmate. God knows Barry would rather hide her away, hide his shot at happiness, than have her be tortured or worse by any of his enemies or allies. He groaned, his knuckles turning whiter than the sink.

His acting class didn’t know what to make of him at first; his long, dark clothing sharply contrasted their tight shorts and tank tops, skin flaunting their connections. But despite himself, Barry grew close to Sally, a girl who had never seen any marks on her body. After hearing that Barry also had a blank canvas, she pounced on him with a marker she had seemingly pulled out of nowhere, drawing a star on his knuckles. However, despite her persistence, no matching star appeared on her own. Sally declared them star-crossed soulmates and asked him on a date.

After a late night of drinks, Barry found himself making out with Sally on her couch. She went to pull off his shirt and for the first time in his life, he mindlessly complied, distracted by the intimacy. Sally suddenly shot up from the couch, crying out as she pointed to the drawings adorning his chest. Y/N had seen the star Sally had drawn and, hopeful that it was a message to her, drew out an intricate night sky. Hidden among the stars, scrawled out in cursive, she wrote I’m here when you’re ready, Barry. -Y/N.

“How dare you! You lied just to get into my pants?!” Sally tripped over herself to pick up his discarded shirt, balling it up to chuck at him. Barry pulled it on, dazed all the way home until he saw the message glint in the mirror as he was getting undressed. Barry slammed his fist into the wall, shouting out in frustration. Ass his phone rang, the caller ID revealing it was Fuches, Barry scrambled to put his shirt back on, scribbling a message to Y/N on the fleshy part of his bicep. I’m a hitman. Don’t message me unless you want to die.

After the assignment, Barry found himself staring at his chest and reading her pleas to talk further. That’s not funny. Barry. Barry! Oh my god, you’re serious. That explains a few things. You gotta talk to me, your soulmate? I need to know why. Barry sighed, wandering over to his bedroom to get a pen from his desk. He sat on the bed, anxiously fiddling with the pen in between his fingers before writing on his trigger finger: you still want to talk to me? He waits, watching the loopy letters sweep down his arm like a signature under the floral art she continued to draw every day.

Yes, I have a death wish. He laughed at the absurdity of their conversation before responding.

Why are all artists suicidal?

See, I’d rather have this with you than live without it. Her words made him freeze in his tracks, his fingers gently stroking over the confession as they faded away, scrubbed off by the writer. She filled the now empty space with a series of numbers; Barry furrowed his brow, trying to decode the secret message. After a moment Y/N wrote again underneath them.

Running out of space! Text me! He hesitated, his heart in his throat as he debated if the convenience was worth sacrificing her safety. Finally, with shaking hands, he dialed the number and hit call. A soft hello followed the ringing, the voice so angelic that he knew he would do whatever she asked him to do.

“I said text, not call! You do know how to read, right?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s nice to hear your voice!”

“What? No, I mean I’m sorry for…” Barry trailed off, his mind swarmed by memories of pushing her away and feeling her anguish through the pointy pen tip.

“You wanted to protect me. I get it. Now we’re even from when I couldn’t write to you.”

“That wasn’t intentional.”

“It would have been! I was a pretty rebellious eleven year old.” He laughed, the silence after he finishes awkward until he breaks it.

“I’m in LA.”

“For work?”

“Yes.”

“I see.”

Barry doodles a flower on his thumb. It’s not as pretty as any of hers, but she draws a faint heart around it. He brushes the heart, his own beating so loudly it was in his ears.

“I’m scared.”

“Me too.”

“Because of who I am? What I do?” His throat was thick from holding back the dam of emotion, but his voice managed to crack in desperation.

“I’m scared you’re going to leave me again.” Barry paused at that, his own heart breaking a little at the thought of all of the pain he must have caused Y/N by abandoning her. He’s now drawing a bouquet on his forearm, a sloppier version of her own.

“You don’t have to be afraid of that. Once I see you for the first time, I’m probably never going to leave you alone ever again… Not in a creepy way…”

“I would love that.”

“I’m giving you an out right now. You can hang up, stay in the safety of your life as a… what do you do again?”

“Graphic design!”

“I knew you were an artist!”

“And I knew you were a comedian!”

“Weird way of pronouncing what I actually do…” She giggled at that, falling quiet after a hearty laugh.

“Look at your leg. I’ll see you there at 9. Don’t be late!” As she hung up, Barry pressed his phone to his lips in shock. Remembering her words, he pulled his pants down to read the directions she had jotted onto his thigh, the dots in the I’s drawn as hearts instead of dots; he almost died of pure joy right then and there.

In hindsight, it was good that Y/N had suggested a coffee shop to meet because Barry had not gotten a wink of sleep the entire night. He had stared at the ceiling, flat on his back and still fondly stroking her writing on his leg. As his pointer finger traced the hearts, he felt his own thud loudly in his chest. It was easier to protect her when she was just lines on his person, just another part of him that he hated, another vulnerability. But hearing Y/N’s voice, imagining what she might look like, had ignited a wanting within him, a need to be with her, his other half. She was no longer just a part of him; she was a separate entity that he wanted to get to know and love.

He had gotten to the shop as soon as it opened at 4, wanting to figure out where the best table inside would be and staking it out for them. The barista had made him order a drink at 5:30; panicked and feeling about a thousand years old, Barry ordered “something to bring me back to life.” At 6 he was shuttering, borderline convulsing from the quad espresso that he consumed quickly. His anxiety was through the room, but all he could do was dig his fingernails into his palm which was resting on his jeans over her handwriting. What if she wasn’t as okay with the age difference as she thought she was? What if it hits her that her soulmate is a hitman? What if the drawings stop appearing. What if—

Barry jolted awake in his seat, now realizing that he had crashed from the overdose of caffeine. The barista (Stacie, he later learned) made a joke about having to restart his heart. He checked his phone: 8:30am. Suddenly, a thought dawned on him and he ordered another drink. By the time Stacie brought it over and started walking back to the counter, the bell above the door tingled. Barry immediately stood up like Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice, turning to look at the customer. She sensed his stare immediately, turning to look him over as a dreamy blush painted her cheeks.

“Barry?” She whispered, his name less of a question and more of a disbelief. He swallowed, his throat dry as he looked over Y/N, his soulmate. She was absolutely picturesque, an almost pure aura of light around her as the door slowly shut behind her. As she drew near, Barry was almost too aware of how he towered over, a menacing presence.

“I gotcha a latt-“ Barry didn’t even get to finish his stuttering as Y/N grabbed his collar and pulled him down into a kiss. His mouth was already half open and he stumbled forward from the force of her tug. It wasn’t the most coordinated kiss in the world, her mouth mostly on his bottom lip and her teeth lightly bumped his by accident; but it was theirs. Barry felt his body fill with a warmth, like his whole being was sighing with relief at being united with his soulmate as he kissed her back. He had thought that the doodles and the sound of her voice would do him in, but this… this would knock his entire life’s path off track. After a moment, Barry gently placed his hands on her cheeks and pulled away, just looking down at her in awe.

“How did you know my coffee order?” Y/N asked, her grin stretched out wider than Barry previously thought possible. He babbled for a few seconds, removing his hands to gesticulate as he just expressed a bunch of word fillers before finally managing to get something out.

“Y-you, you wrote it on your hand as a-a part of your to-to-to do list,” he explained, trying to stick his erratic hands in his pockets but Y/N swung her hand forward to snatch his hand. She squealed, making a joke about how sweaty his hand was and Barry thought he would die of a heart attack right then and there. She pulled him down again, this time so they could sit at the table together and she could take a sip of her latte. Barry simply stared at her, his brain slightly short circuiting with delight. Eventually, rational thought caught up with him and Barry tried to remove his hand from hers, but she had a firm grip and a look in her eye that told him she already knew what he was going to say.

“You’re not worried about…”

“I thought we already went over this, Barry. I’m in! I’m all in,” she declared sweetly, leaning over to capture his lips once again. He was consumed by it, by her, his head swirling with a dizziness of emotion and his lungs burning with a heartache of regrets. They could have had this so much sooner, if he had left the army, if he hadn’t made that deal with Fuches, if he hadn’t been an idiot about wanting to protect her. The deep and mind numbing kiss ended as Y/N broke it to breathe heavy. Barry looked at her through lidded eyes, revering her with every fiber of his being.

“You are good at that! It’s a good thing too because it looks like I’m gonna have to kiss you every five minutes to get you out of that type of thinking,” she giggled, moving to lean back in her chair but Barry slung an arm around her waist, pulling her back into him with a soft smile.

“Better make it every two minutes because I’m thinking again,” he joked, his heart glowing as the love of his life obliged his request and kissed him senseless.

#barry berkman x reader #barry #barry hbo #barry block x reader #soulmate au #soulmate!au #barry berkman imagine #barry block imagine #barry berkman #barry block #bill hader #hbo #bill hader x reader #my words #barry x sally

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miwromantics · 5 years

Text

Day Offs With Ricky

It was a warm summer day in Chicago and today was a day off for you. It’s been two months since the start of Motionless in White’s tour. You were their photographer for their shows and it’s been going well on the road. All of the guys were super nice to you and the audio crew were your go-to hang out buddies. Tomorrow everyone was flying to San Diego, California for a show but until then it was time to enjoy your day in your favorite city. You had plans to meet up with the crew for coffee and brunch, so you showered and got ready for the day. While doing your makeup, you got a text from AJ, one of the audio guys.

“Yo Y/N! You cool if Vinny and Ricky join the group for food?” the text read.

A little taken back, you replied, “Sure yeah totally!”

Normally the band and the crew do their own things on days off, everyone’s got their cliques they hang with, so it was weird to you that Vinny and Ricky were joining. Lately, things were going well with Ricky. You’ve been talking to him a lot recently about cameras and different editing techniques which started a friendship between you two. But around the other members, he wouldn’t really talk to you, which you thought was odd. But the times you’d spend together alone talking about photography slowly turned into more personal conversations, and over a few weeks on the road, you developed a crush on Ricky. But you always felt like he just viewed you as a friend.

About 30 minutes later, you grabbed your backpack with your camera gear, headed out of your hotel room and got down to the lobby. You saw AJ and Shane sitting on the couches, getting directions to the coffee shop you guys were going to. You playfully flicked them both off as you sat down in a chair across from them. And in just a few seconds, you felt two hands on your shoulders from behind you followed by a loud “BOO!” in your ear. It nearly made you jump out of your seat. You whipped your head around to see Vinny erupting in laugher and Ricky behind him with a grin on his face, shaking his head.

“Vinny! Jesus Christ, you gave me heart attack!” you exclaimed.

“Hey just making sure you’re awake, Y/N!” You ready for some hipster-ass brunch?” he laughed as he sat down next to you.

“Gonna tear this food up! As soon as AJ hurries up with finding this place,” you answered.

“Alright every calm down, calm down! It finally pulled up, let’s go!” AJ said as he stood up from the couch.

You all followed AJ out of the hotel and started walking down the city streets of Chicago. AJ, Vinny, and Shane led the group with you and Ricky right behind them. You had always loved this city; the busy streets, the buildings, the people. You smiled as you took out your camera and began taking pictures of everything you saw, and capturing funny moments of Vinny and AJ messing around with Shane. Ricky walked beside you as you took the pictures, occasionally turning to your side to snap a photo of him.

“That was pretty funny how Vin scared you this morning. You jumped pretty fast. Didn’t know you were a scaredy-cat,” Ricky said as he playfully nudged your shoulder with a smile on his face.

“Hey shut it, Olsen, he scared the shit out of me!” you said as you snapped a photo of him. You caught the perfect moment of him smiling at you. He started walking a little closer to you, and you could feel some tension forming.

After a short walk, you all arrived at the coffee shop. Everyone ordered their food and drinks and picked a table outside to sit at. AJ sat next to you, Shane beside him, Vinny across from Shane and Ricky was across from you. While waiting for the food, conversations about how the tour was going came up, and the crew was swapping stories with the band of how everyone’s day normally goes. But after the food arrived and everyone was eating, individual conversations broke out amongst the table. AJ, Shane, and Vinny started talking about basketball and how the Chicago Bulls were doing in the season, meanwhile, you and Ricky started talking about photography. You thought to yourself how you were glad that he and Vinny decided to join the crew for a day off hangs.

After about an hour of eating, everyone stood up and walked back inside to grab one last cup of coffee to go.

“So Y/N, any plans for the rest of the day?” Vinny asked you as everyone formed a circle outside.

“Well I was thinking of taking it pretty easy today, might just head back to the hotel and pack my suitcase for the flight tomorrow,” you answered.

“Aw lame! We’re probably going to go to a basketball game tonight, hit us up if you change your mind,” AJ said in reply.

“I’m gonna walk Y/N back to the hotel, I’ll catch up with you guys later,” Ricky said.

Your eyes shot over to him. He was already looking at you with a small smile on his face. The rest of the guys didn’t think much of it, and soon they walked away to do whatever else they had planned for the day.

“Walk me to the hotel ay?” you joked as you and Ricky started walking down the sidewalk.

“Anything to get a few more moments with you,” he said as he lightly nudged your shoulder.

You tried to hide your smile, but you could already feel your face getting warm as your cheeks started to blush. As you guys walk towards the hotel, you could feel some sort of tension forming. Was it just the fact that he wanted to be alone with you? Was he just worried about you getting back safely? Your thoughts were racing.

As you approached the hotel and soon walked inside, he stopped by the elevator and pushed the button for you.

“Well if you change your mind about going out to the game tonight, let Vin know, okay?” he said as the elevator door opened.

You shook your head and smiled at him. “Thanks for walking with me, Rick,” you said.

He smiled back at you and gave a little wave as the elevator doors shut. You stood in there for a second, gathering your thoughts before hitting your floor number. You told yourself not to read into it, but you knew that this was all you were going to think about for the rest of the night.

~~~

It was around 5:30am when you were supposed to be down in the hotel lobby. You didn’t get much sleep since your thoughts of Ricky kept you up for most of the night. Tired and barely awake, you threw your hair up in a messy bun, grabbed your suitcase and backpack and headed downstairs. Most of the crew and band were there, but still waiting on Chris, Shane, and Ricky. You sat on the chair you sat in the day before and tried not to dose off while everyone waited. You felt a tap on your shoulder and your eyes opened to see Ricky standing beside you.

“Someone’s sleepy,” he said as you looked up at him.

“Shhhhh, I’m just resting my eyes,” you chuckled back at him.

After Chris and Shane were finally downstairs, everyone piled into two runner vans that were headed to the airport. And after a short drive, you arrived there. Dropping your bags off was a breeze and thankfully security wasn’t too crazy, being so early in the morning. And after a quick tram ride, you were at the gate for the plane. Just over 30 minutes later, you were walking on the plane. You found your seat and were so thankful to have the chance to go back to sleep for a while. You fashioned your backpack into somewhat of a pillow. And just when you were closing your eyes, you feel someone sit down next to you. You peaked open one eye to see Ryan.

“Looks like were plane buddies, Y/N”, Ryan whispered.

You smiled and threw a thumbs up to him. He chuckled and busted out his neck pillow.

When you closed your eyes, you must have fallen asleep pretty quickly. You didn’t feel Ryan get out of his seat. But when someone sat back down next to you and woke you up, your tiredness brought out the cranky in you.

“Ryan, you know I love you but ya girl needs sleep so sit down,” you lightly snapped at him.

“Wow someone really is sleepy,” a voice replied to you.

Your eyes shot open. You knew Ryan’s voice and that was not Ryan. Instead, you see Ricky sitting next to you with his head leaned back, eyes shut and a slight smile on his face.

“Uhhh where’s Ryan and what did you do with him,” you asked as you shut your eyes again.

Ricky chuckled. “I begged and pleaded for him to trade seats with me,” he said with a sarcastic tone, “get some sleep Y/N, it’s a long flight to San Diego.”

You could feel yourself slipping away, the drone of the airplane helped you go to sleep. You were so tired. And somehow though Ricky was the one that kept your brain up all night, him beside you also helped you sleep. And while you slept, you didn’t realize that you abandoned your backpack pillow and adjusted yourself to be resting on Ricky’s shoulder. After what seemed like only an hour, you felt Ricky move and it woke you.

“Oh shit sorry Rick,” you mumbled as you move away from him and closer to the window.

“It’s okay Y/N, didn’t mind you crushing my shoulder to sleep,” he said softly.

You rubbed your eyes for a minute and let out a big yawn.

“Jeez you slept for 4 hours and you’re still tired? You’re not a morning person, are you?” he asked.

You shook your head no. “God I can’t wait to get off this plane and into a bed.”

He chuckled.

~~~

After landing in San Diego, everyone retrieved their bags and headed to the hotel. You checked your phone to see what time it was, but also you saw you had a text from AJ.

“Nice snuggle sesh on the plane. BARF” it read.

You rolled your eyes and let out a sigh.

As the vans rolled up to the hotel and everyone got out, Ricky grabbed your suitcase for you. You smiled and thanked him as he held the door open for you. The rest of the band and crew were already forming a line at the counter to get room keys. You and Ricky were the last in line.

After getting keys, you both walked over to the elevators and waited in silence. The doors opened and you both walked in.

“What floor are you on?” you asked him.

“Uhhh, looks like 22,” he answered as he fumbled around looking at his room key.

You press the button for 22.

“Oh, are you on that floor too?” he asked.

“Great detective skills Olsen, how’d you figure that one out,” you joked as the elevator took you up.

He laughed and shook his head. As the doors open, he motioned his hand out and waited for you to go first. You walked down the hallway but noticed that he wasn’t walking behind you.

“I’m this way,” he said as the pointed down another hallway, “I guess I’ll see you later Y/N.”

“Oh yeah, sure. See ya later,” you said. You felt awkward even saying it. Why were things getting weird now? So what, you fell asleep on his should, big whoop. You told yourself that things weren’t weird and that you’re just being anxious.

You threw your suitcase on the couch in your room and quickly jumped into the bed. Even though you slept on the plane you were still so tired. As you were taking your leggings off, you heard a very quiet knock on your door. You climbed out of bed and peeped out the door to see Ricky standing there. You look down at your bare legs, shrugged your shoulders and opened the door, letting only your head be visible as you hid behind the door.

“What’s up, Rick?”

He stared at you before looking down and back up to you, “Why are you hiding behind the door?”

“Don’t worry about it, Olsen. What’s up?” you asked again.

He nervously looked down at his feet. You could tell something was bothering him.

“Spit it out, I’ve got a nap to take,” you said urging him on.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot, Y/N. In fact, you’re all I think about,” he mumbled as he shuffled his feet.

You could feel your face rush with blood and your heart rate starting to accelerate. You stood behind the door, somewhat speechless. Was this really happening? Right here, right now?

“I’m sorry if I’m being too forward, I just can’t stay silent about my feelings towards you anymore,” he said as he finally looked up at you.

“Rick.. I..” you struggled to find words.

“I’m sorry this was a mistake,” he said as he started to walk away.

“Ricky wait,” you said as you walked out from behind the door and into the hallway.

He turned around to see you standing there in nothing but your sweater and socks, he looked you up and down. You walked right up to him, grabbed his face in your hands and kissed him. You’ve waited for this moment for what seemed like ages. His arms wrapped around your waist and you threw your arms over his shoulders. You pulled back and left your face close to his.

“Wanna come inside?” you whispered.

He shook his head and smiled at you.

While you both walked a few paces back to your room, he lifted your sweater to reveal your underwear. You giggled and swatted his hand away. After the door closed, you turned around to be greeted by Ricky, who was already taking his shirt off.

“Whoa whoa, Olsen, I invite you into my hotel room and you immediately start stripping? Dial it back,” you joked.

He laughed. “Don’t flatter yourself, I can’t sleep with a shirt on and you wanted to nap right?”

You couldn’t help but stare at his body. His tattooed arms were toned and his pants rode low on his waist. He folded up his shirt while you admired his hands. He looked at you and sat down on the couch, next to your suitcase. While he sat, he smiled at you, trying to hide his blushing face. You walked over to him and sat on top of him. You pulled his face to you and began kissing him. It started off with slow, light kisses that were interrupted by smiles and deep breaths. But slowly the innocent kissing turned passionate. His hands found their way under your sweater and were gripping your back. You had your hands on his chest and in his hair. Both of you started breathing more heavily, with an occasional moan slipping out. He tugged at your sweater which gave you the hint to take it off. You stood up in front of him and smiled.

“Oh Ricky, you’re not going to get me to strip that easily,” you chuckled as you crawled into the bed.

He stood up from the couch and made his way over to you.

“Was worth a shot!” he said as he laid down next to you.

You were facing each other, and he kissed you on the forehead.

“Can we just lay here for the whole day?” you asked.

“I would love nothing more,” he answered.

#motionless in white #motionless in white imagines #Ricky horror #chris motionless #justin marrow #vinny mauro #Ryan Sitkowski #ricky olson

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imhereforbvcky · 5 years

Text

Vivid - Part 4

Masterlist - Series Masterpage

Summary: Have you ever met someone who completely embodies a color? Not an aura, not synesthesia. Just… They walk into the room and when you spot them, you think to yourself, “Wow. That is a walking hurricane.” When Clint Barton serendipitously meets a free-spirited stranger, he sees red. Chapter: After dropping in on Clint unexpectedly, you are the one left surprised.

Word Count: 2641

A/N: I’m not even going to pretend I didn’t go for the low-hanging fruit of plot points here. Sorry, not that sorry. I grew tired of belaboring series for the sake of ingenuity. It’s fanfiction, not a pulitzer novel. I want to enjoy writing it sometimes.

1:30am was early. Or was it late, technically if you hadn’t slept yet? Too late for most people, at any rate. But not for you, and not for Clint.

It had been that kind of week and you’d celebrated its conclusion with that kind of night. Which had led you giggling and bumbling into the bodega. And that excursion, of course, then led to thinking of Clint so fondly that you decided to drop by his place.

At 1:30 in the morning.

Totally normal.

“Clint!” Your voice clanged through the open windows of his apartment where he had slung himself over the couch with a two year old bag of frozen peas against his cheek.

He bolted upright, waiting as if he’d dreamt it, as if it had been some phantom of the concussion he was now sporting. Natasha stood in the kitchen, stuffing spinach into the blender but perked an eyebrow at him. He ignored her with great effort.

“Clint, buzz me in!” you called again and this time he crawled to the window and peeked just over the sill, fingertips clinging to the peeling wood. “My hands are full!”

He could see now that it was true. You balanced an enormous pizza box on one forearm and squished a tub of ice cream and a 2-litre of coke in the other.

“Shut the fuck up!” a neighbor hollered and Clint cringed, ducking back below the window.

“You shut the fuck up!” You snapped back.

Clint chuckled from his spot with his back to the wall, knees curled to his chest with the streetlight’s orange glow shooting just over him like a failed search-light.

This was one of the things he liked about you, though it scared him: you were trouble, red hot emotion constantly bubbling just below the surface. Sure, you laughed quickly, but you also cried at Finding Nemo, and angered to boiling at the very first offense. His neighbor experienced the full force of it tonight.

“It’s 1:30 in the morning! Go home!”

“Yeah, I’m aware, Greg. Thanks for the time check!” you shouted back. “Clint! Pizza – burning! Ice cream – freezing!”

“This is bullshit,” the neighbor grumbled. “I’m callin’ the cops!”

“You do that! You fuckin’ do that!”

Natasha snorted from the kitchen. “Are you gonna get that or?”

“When they get here, I’ll make sure to mention those neat little five-leaf plants you’ve got in your bathroom window! They’re so green!” You continued your tirade until you heard the sharp buzz of the door unlocking. “And the smell, boy I think a skunk might’ve walked by…!”

“Fuck you!”

“Nice chat, Greg!” you hollered as you tugged the door open with your elbow.

Inside Natasha stood at the intercom with a wicked grin on her lips. Clint buried his face in his hands, elbows on his knees.

“Why did you do that? Ow!” he complained at the pressure of his own hands on his bruised cheekbone.

“Because you didn’t,” she shrugged, propping the door open by the deadbolt. “Were you just going to let your girl get arrested? That is her right? Your secret person?”

“She’s not a secret. She’s also not… my girl.”

“If it’s not a secret why were you hiding?”

“Because it’s almost 2am and you’re here! What do you think she’ll make of that?” he snapped.

Natasha scowled at him. “That I’m your friend. Who’s keeping an eye on you after you got pistol-whipped by a Hulk-sized alien on an assignment.”

Before Clint could complain further you were pushing through the door.

“Okay, I got pepperoni because I’m cheap and let’s be honest; it’s the best.”

He’d jumped to his feet to help you, taking the pizza as you shifted the ice cream and coke out of your arms.

“Pepperoni’s my favorite.” He smiled something soft and warm.

Spending time with Clint always felt like no time at all. Like you were exactly where you needed to be and time didn’t matter. Every last thing felt comfortable and content and you didn’t worry about a damn thing. The buzzing fire in your veins settled to a cool shiver. Your favorite place in the city was standing right there under the relaxed calm of his smile.

“Yeah, I know,” you grinned, finally turning your eyes up to him. The smile dropped as quickly as it came. “Holy shit! Your face!”

“I mean, I know I’m no Steve Rogers, but that’s a little harsh,” he joked.

“It’s a very good face, except for the grapefruit sized bruise,” you cooed, holding his chin and turning his head side with exaggerated scrutiny. “What the hell happened?!”

Finally, your fingers slid over the sides of his neck until they rested on his shoulder. It was just a light touch, just a flutter, just enough to excite a shiver up his neck and over his scalp. Goosebumps prickled across his skin as the only evidence.

“Jerk snuck up on me,” he hedged. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have, so he shrugged and tipped his head, leaning slightly into your lingering touch. “I’ve had worse.”

“You need some ice.”

Despite all his wishing, you released him. Your fingertips still tingled with the scratch of his stubble as you’d moved over his skin.

The second you turned for the kitchen, your racing heart stopped completely.

“I… h-hi,” you managed, eyes wide and frozen on Natasha.

She waved her fingers in a fluid sweep and pulsed the blender on the smoothie she’d been graciously waiting to finish making.

“Did uh…” you murmured, turning to Clint while he lifted to his cheek the pack of frozen peas Natasha had tossed at him not ten minutes earlier. “Did you know there’s an Avenger in your kitchen?”

He chuckled, glancing to Natasha whose brow pinched together slightly for the briefest moment.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, she’s keeping an eye on the…” he pointed to his cheek, to the violent purple bruise blossoming across his skin like the purple-black petals of a superstition iris.

“Uh-huh. Uh-huh,” you answered, eyes back on Natasha, in total awe. You’d seen her on CNN for fuck’s sake. She exposed HYDRA. And told Capitol Hill to fuck off. And not even the deepest halls of the US government knew what else.

Yet here she stood in your friend’s kitchen. At two in the morning.

“She and I… we go way back…” Clint started and stopped. How the hell was he supposed to explain his relationship with Nat? It was well beyond friendship, closer than family. There was so much love, but not the same kind of stomach flipping, tongue glued to your teeth, tripping over your feet sort of love that clawed up from somewhere long forgotten whenever you breezed into the room, all red and alive and gleaming. Either relationship was well beyond words to Clint. Certainly beyond his word bank.

“Oh,” you nodded. Then a moment later, “Oh!”

Natasha caught your assumption immediately and turned to Clint with a sharp look. He was too busy trying to find words that would never suffice to stop the freight train that had just jumped the tracks in your mind.

“I… you guys are…” you stammered, walking backward toward the door and pointing between them. “I just didn’t think you had a um… Well not that you couldn’t,” you laughed anxiously. “I mean, you’re funny and so kind and you’ve got those arms there, and shit,” you slammed an open palm on your forehead. “I’m just uh… I’m gonna go.”

By the time you’d finished rambling you had backed your way to the door with a thumb pointing over your shoulder. Without another fumbled word, you spun on the spot and slipped out.

“Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.” Clint complained. With each curse, his forehead thunked against the counter top

“Probably not good for the concussion, Barton,” Natasha chuckled

“That’s alright. A coma would be better right about now anyway.”

There was a light knock before you peeked back inside. Clint perked up and breathed your name, relieved beyond words to see your face again, when he’d thought he’d blown it, lost it already and entirely.

“I’m just gonna…” you took three long strides to the kitchen and swiped the tub of ice cream off the counter before scampering back out with even more haste.

Natasha burst into laughter. Chest full, and dimples deeply carved with mirth. Clint slid to the floor with a groan.

“So are you gonna stop her or do I have to do everything?”

“Stop her how? Say what?”

“Well for starters tell her you’re an Avenger. We’re teammates and frie—“

“She knows who I am,” he grumbled, reaching overhead for the pizza box.

“She knows Clint Barton, the idiot who drinks coffee all night long and eats way too much pizza. The guy who’s always there at two a.m., who makes her laugh, and who apparently has nice arms,” she chuckled.

“Shut up,” he argued with a grin slowly dragging over his face.

“She absolutely does not know what you do for a living.” She handed him the smoothie and he scowled at it.

“I saw her at a promotional fundraiser,” he argued. “She had to know. It’s the only reason I was there.”

“Clint. You were SHIELD first: a spy. Your identity was protected. Then the battle of New York, you mostly kept to rooftops; the media didn’t exactly get any close-ups. You don’t do the press meetings. Unless someone’s looking for Hawkeye especially… you can get away with being a little bit anonymous.”

“Shit,” he mumbled through a bite of pizza. “She said something about there being Avengers at the fundraiser, I thought she was joking! And she totally froze when she recognized you… She has no idea, does she?”

Natasha offered a sympathetic look and a shrug.

“This is embarrassing. How have I never talked about work?”

“I think it’s nice,” she curled up on the floor next to him, stealing a sip of the smoothie. “She just likes you. And you have something outside of the job. It’s good. You need that. We all do.”

He nodded, scooping up another slice of pizza. “I need to tell her though.”

“Obviously.”

“How does she not see it?”

“That you’re Hawkeye or that you’re head over heels?”

He scowled at her and pushed his glass back into her hands. “This smoothie’s gross.”

A week and a half later and Clint had not told you a thing. Instead, he crouched on the edge of the rooftop, peering down at the row of warehouses. Some of them were abandoned. The rest had simply gone still for the night.

Steady fingers spread like a claw over the concrete. Lightly booted feet curled into sharp demi-pointe. If he weren’t in dark leather and neoprene, strapped over and over with sleek pointed weapons and exactly one SHIELD issue handgun, he might’ve looked like a dancer. Clint was always light on his feet, tall and strong in a way that made him agile and lithe.

“Something’s not right,” he worried aloud, clear blue eyes flashing on the small group of giggling twenty-somethings that teetered into the building he was meant to be watching. Abandoned warehouse, one door east and two south of his position.

“Ya think?” Bucky grumbled, watching through the scope of his rifle as the last of them disappeared behind the heavy steel door. The distant ker-thunk of its closing echoed up to his ears a moment later and his finger twitched over the safety. He knew it was in place. Bucky knew his guns like they were permanently attached to his body, but he checked it just in case.

These did not look like the villains they were after.

“That’s the sixth group of idiots in band tees to go in since we got up here.” Clint relaxed by a hair now that there was nothing and no one to see down below. His heels met concrete once more, and he squared his body over his knees. He still looked ready to leap, but less like he was mid-lunge, less like a swooping predator. “It’s supposed to be empty.”

Empty except for the group dealers the Avengers had tracked down. The ones who serviced illegally salvaged alien weaponry out of the abandoned warehouse one building east and two south of Clint’s current perch. The club they intended to lasso tonight in the building that was now teeming with bystanders.

“Only question now…” Bucky dragged the cross-hairs of his scope onto a new group headed toward the building. “Is whether it’s just bad intel, or a set up.”

Clint sighed and turned his attention to the small group as well. A couple of women. They seemed happy. One of them passed something small to another and hopped forward, a small dance in every step. Clint hadn’t noticed he was smiling. It was small and involuntary, the tiniest curve of his lips. The woman threw her head back and held a bottle to her lips, no doubt singing into it. Clint caught a glimmer of color when they passed under a street light and froze.

Red.

“No, no, no, no, no,” he murmured, rapid-fire. This time, crouching further even than before, his fingers curled around the thick ledge of the wall and his feet remained beneath him, arched up on pads, ready to leap.

“What?” Bucky pulled away from his scope, scanning the area for danger, for whatever had Clint so literally on edge. “What do you see?” Eye back on the scope, he saw nothing unusual about the group. So he swept the door, the windows, the roof of the building. Empty. “Clint!”

“Not here,” his voice was a breathless plea. “She shouldn’t be here.”

“Who?!”

Clint looked frantic, fingers gripping and regripping the rough ledge like every fresh hold bolstered him in place, reminded him that he was part of a team and he needed to hold his position.

“Barton!” Bucky barked again. “Who?”

“The one with the coke bottle!”

“Yeah?” Bucky settled on her through the scope, red bottle, red cap inches from equally red lips. Same band tee as everyone else. To Bucky, a harmless, unremarkable civilian. “I’m not seeing it, man. This is a live mission, Clint! If you see something off, you’ve gotta tell me. Who the hell is she?”

“She’s—she’s… I don’t know… We--I…”

Agitated by his partner’s distress, Bucky followed the woman, kept her tightly within his cross-hairs and with a gentle practiced finger snapped the safety off.

“She’s a friend. A… She’s my person.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Barton?!” Bucky clicked the safety back in place and glared at his partner, his friend. He was ready to fire on a civilian because Clint couldn’t form a sentence when he laid eyes on a goddamn crush.

“I’ve got action on the southwest corner,” Sam’s voice crackled over the comlink. “Definitely packing.”

Bucky, still glaring at Clint, saw his eyes go wide and the decision flash firm in his jaw. Bucky only managed two words after that.

“Clint, don’t—!“

But Clint had already launched himself over the edge of the building.

It wasn’t a long drop. The buildings weren’t skyscrapers, just a couple of stories high, just enough for a few forklifts to create monuments to forgotten consumerism out of crates and pallets.

His landing was loud anyway. Clint rolled onto the empty roof of a delivery truck with the deep bellow of reverberating aluminum. The noise was thunderous, almost matching Bucky’s anger, but Clint kept rolling, right down the windshield until he found his feet on the hood and leapt forward onto crumbling pavement. Then he ran.

“The hell was that?” Natasha worried in Bucky’s earpiece.

“Barton’s lost his goddamn mind over a girl,” he grumbled in answer. “He’s on the ground now. I’ll cover.”

Chapter 5 >>

#clint x reader #clint x barton reader #clint x reader angst #clint barton x reader angst #clint fanfic #clint barton fanfic #avengers fanfic #vivid 4 #vivid part 4

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curlyhairallday · 5 years

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Bump and Dumps -Part Two

Here is part two hope you like it.

Hattie had quickly realised after jumping in her yellow vw beetle on her escape from Harry their memories together were so ingrained into her life there was no way to forget him even temporarily. Even her car which she had nicknamed sunny was a constant reminder of him, he had gifted her the car as a graduation present when she’d finished university. It had been her dream car since she could remember the old fashioned Beetle was such an iconic car in her eye and she had been blown away that her best friend had given her such an amazing gift. Her and Harry had also made many memories on the back seat of her car. As she began driving down the M25 she began to panic Hattie left everything in her life to chance she trusted in the universe to lead her the correct way. I mean why wouldn’t she trust it, for it was chance that had led her to Harry originally but right now as she was driving down the M25 she realised she had removed chance. For the first time in her life she had taken a decision into her own hands.

She took a deep breath as she neared her child home in a small countryside village on the outside of London. It was no ideal for her to commute to work but it would be a temporary solution to a massive problem. The next issue was explaining the situation to her parents as she pulled up outside her little home in the middle of nowhere she felt completely broken she had not lived at home since she had left for uni at 18. She grabbed Muffin and her handbag deciding to get the rest of her limited possessions tomorrow. Muffin stirred and began to meow in confusion she had only ever been but in her cat box for the short tube journey to the vets. Hattie quickly unlocked her parents door luckily she still possessed her key. She knew her mum would be in bed but her Dad would luckily be asleep on the sofa with a random documentry in the background.

She was right she saw her Dad snoring away on the sofa she put her bags and muffin down and cuddled up to her Dad.

“Claire?” her dad questioned groggily opening his eyes.

“Hattie? Wait what are you doing here.” he sat up starring up at his daughter confusion flooding his face.

“Missed you.” she sighed snuggling further into her Dad who quickly recipriocated.

After ten minuted of her and her father hugging in silence he spoke.

“Come on then lets get to bed.” Hattie grabbed muffin and her bag following her Dad upstairs to her small childhood bedroom which unfortunately still possessed poster of the one and only Harry Styles.

“Night Dad, I love you.”

“I love you too Harriet, we will discuss everything tomorrow ok?” she quickly nodding knowing her father knew something was wrong. I mean it was kind of obvious when his almost 24 year old daughter turned up at home at 11:30 at night.

She closed her door and let Muffin out her carrier, she decided that she should probably turn on her phone and alert Harry to her taking Muffin as she had forgotten to mention it and was worried he had not noticed the carrier as she had left. Immediately as her phone turned on it sprang to life 60 messages and 34 missed calls.

21 Missed Calls from Harold

4 Missed Calls from Gem

1 Missed Call from Jeffo

2 Missed Calls from Em

6 Missed Calls from Mitch

Her texts were no better, although a few were from work about a hearing on Monday and new elements to the case she was helping represent the majority were from Harry. Emily had messaged to say she knew I had told Harry and hoped I was alright and that I was welcome to my old room as she had never gotten a new housemate after I had moved out mainly as she had never needed one in the first place and Hattie knew the offer although it was genuine was from a place of pity. She began to read through Harry’s messages.

Please come back Hat, I didn’t mean to make you feel this way.

Can you let me know you are alright and safe please.

Hattie.

This isn’t fair you didn’t give me a chance to explain. It’s my baby too Hattie.

I am sorry baby.

Please come home, I love you.

Hattie I will give you tonight but tomorrow we are talking about this I won’t let you go.

The messages continued going between desperation, declarations of love and anger which was immediately followed by an apology. Although, Harry had a temper he always realised when it had revealed its ugly head and rein it back straight away. Muffin came and curled up on her chest as she began to sob the little fur ball was very comforting and always seem to know when Hattie was down.

Gemma had also messaged her offering a place to stay for a little break and had briefly even mentioned a congratulations on the baby and her excitement to have Hattie around forever. She knew Harry would confide in Gemma and although she and Gemma were friends she knew Harry was her first priority and she was glad that he had her.

Jeff had asked her to call him back or Harry and had even joked that there was little he could do with a emotionally broken rock star.

She kept reading Harry’s messages over and over finding comfort in his words but she knew she couldn’t do anything until she was no longer confused about him, her future and of course the baby. She sent Harry a quick message.

I am safe. Muffin is with me. I will call you sometime next week.

Harry was on the phone to Gemma when he saw her text he let out a sigh of relief, one because he thought that he had accidentally let Muffin out when he had gone to see if Hattie had truly gone and he knew how much that cat meant to her if he lost Muffin he may as well give up on ever speaking to her again. Although part of him had secretly hoped the cat had escaped so he could demand her to come back and search for her. Secondly, because he knew she was safe which was an absolute priority for him always had been thats why inside the house they had military level security cameras. He also installed the cameras so no matter where he was he could check she was safe he would also check she was up in the morning for work so he’d know if she was sick or running late which was something Hattie hated. He could also check she was safe home from work.

Over the three years he had tried to find a suitable match he had tried to set Hattie free he knew she couldn’t stand fame, the press or attention that's why he had always refused her to be his girlfriend. He knew he had been selfish to make her move in with him but at the time he had reasoned with himself that it was in her best interest but he knew its because he needed her. Every girl had not compared to her Camille was hopeful but she didn’t have the determination, wonder and compassion Hattie possessed. When she had first said she was pregnant he was so happy it meant that as Hattie would say the universe had confirmed he could have her. It no longer seemed like a selfish action to him, he hadn’t realised how rejected Hattie felt as soon as he realised when he was with Camille that Hattie had started to look for places elsewhere he had ended it immediately. This is what was leading to him getting into him car at 3am to drive an hour and a half to his love.

He panicked during the drive what if she rejected him? What if she doesn’t want the baby? He had fallen in love with the idea of a tiny human half him and half Hattie since the moment he met her. He was going to prove to her he did love him he did want her and he was no longer selfish he would even give up touring his second album for her and the baby if she needed him too. He’d give up everything if it meant he could have her because after three years of her he realised he couldn’t deal without her as cliche as it sounded.

Harry knocked on her door he was unsure what welcome he would get as not only was it 4:30am but he had also knocked up their daughter and caused her to leave in the middle of the night. He knew that if it was his daughter this had happened to he would knock out the guy.

“Hello Harry I expected you to not be far behind.” Hattie’s dad Simon spoke well Harry took the fact he didn’t seem angry as a good sign. Maybe Hattie had not disclosed the situation to her parents.

“Hello Simon, I am sorry it is so early.” Harry shook Simon hand and followed him into the little home. He had always loved coming here mainly due to the pictures of a small Hattie coating every wall. Also the smell of vanilla and cinnamon smell which was very closely linked to Hattie she made their own home possess the same smell.

“So why don’t you tell me what is going on? Hattie didn’t seem up to discussing things but seeing as it is just us men tell me why I should not make you leave right now. As it is obvious you have hurt my daughter.”

“Hattie is pregnant.”

Simon rose quickly from his seat his face turning red with anger.

“Tell me right now you did not tell her to get rid of my grandchild.”

“No no I would never there is nothing I want more.” Harry defended himself quickly imagining the chubby little baby a similar one to the photo of Hattie on the wall with chunky little fat rolls and a cheeky smile.

“I think she is confused. She doesn’t think what we have is enough.”

“What do you have?” Harry knew he had to tread carefully even though Hattie was a liberal spirit especially before she met Harry. He had told him stories of her losing her virginity at 4am with her next door neighbour a boy three years older than her at just 15 under the apple tree in her garden. Although, He knew her parents were very traditional every time he had stayed here they would be put in separate room as he would sneak in at 2am to hers.

“It is confusing but I love her. I really do please I need to make her understand. I want her I want the baby I would marry her tomorrow if that’s what she needs.”

“Hold on a second there. I think you should walk before you can run son.”

Hattie sat hidden on the stairs listening to there conversation sadly though she knew he was only panicke due to her leaving and maybe he was fearful she would hide the baby from him. She knew he didn’t mean those things because if he did, he wouldn’t have waited three years to realise.

Hope you enjoy Part 2. Let me know if you have any questions or want a part three. Also does everyone love Hattie as much as me wish I was her. T x

#harry styles #the vamps #harry styles fanfction #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #one direction #one direction fanfiction

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kiki213 · 5 years

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Here’s a Jim Carrey Imagine💞 For @chicky-foxy my friend!!!

(A/N): I’m very very sorry for the wait!!! hope you like it!!! Sorry again..

At 8:30am the alarm sounded in your house you quickly got up and dressed for work, as an interviewer you were very busy and though you were exhausted when you got home, at least you got rest. You really enjoyed this job, you got to interview many celebrities, but the problem is the fact that you couldn’t see your boyfriend Jim since you usually had 5 or more interviews. After you finished getting ready you made your way to the door where Jim was waiting in his black T-shirt and gray sweatpants with his hair messy as usual you smirked at him, he lifted an eyebrow in confusion.

“What is it?..” he asked

You chuckled before responding, “ You look so adorable...”

He blew you a raspberry and chuckled, then paused for a sec before lunging at you and picking you up by the waistline.

You were blushing madly by being taken off guard “J-Jim what are you-?!”

He pouted, holding you tighter, “It’s no fair...we don’t have time for each other anymore...”

You were taken by surprise, you respond with; “ We’ll make time don’t worry...we always do...”.

He softly put you down, his arms were still around your waist. He let out a sign before replying, “I need to try and clear my schedule...”

“Will you be busy today?...” you asked with slight concern

He looked down worryingly for a moment before meeting your eyes “...yeah I’ll be busy”

you paused “okay, go knock em’ dead!” you quickly flashed him a bright smile while giving him a goofy thumbs up.

He paused looking at you and gave you a quick chuckle before wrapping his warm, soft hands in your small cold ones and you blushed hard.

“hehe your hands are always so cold...” he softy smirked, and you looked away in embarrassment blushing.

He then took hold of your face and started applying messy kisses all over your face while saying how much he loved you, you giggled and blushed at his actions, it was so lovingly and it filled your heart with joy. After you bid your goodbyes and love yous, you left to work happily but also upset since you would much rather stay home and cuddle with him all day but you can’t you both are busy with your jobs. Since it was announced that he was starting in the new sonic movie playing the mad doctor Robotnik, neither one of you had time to spend with the other. Jim was the one who was the most busy and he didn’t come home until really late, and it did make you feel left out. But you were proud of him for going back in the spotlight and proceeding with acting.

Later around 4:00pm you were driving back home and entered the key in the lock and softly opened the door, as you walked in you were hit with cool breeze that sent goosebumps on your back making you shiver and it was clear that Jim wasn’t there. You decided to use this time and take a very long hot shower, after that you checked the time 5:40pm you shrugged deciding to fix the bed. When you were finished threw yourself on the couch watching tv, then you dried yourself and dressed in your pjs. You grabbed a large party bag of (F/C) [favorite chips] and plopped on the couch, as time passed by you put the chips back and were still there watching [your favorite show/ movie]. You glanced at the time 7:36pm, you signed deeply before you could even move a muscle the door blew off slamming against the wall you swear it broke off, and you screamed while you yeeted yourself off the couch. You looked at the person mad enough to do something like that and!..... It was Jim.

“What the fu-?!” Before you could talk or process what was happening Jim dashed at you carrying you bridal style and ran pass the hallway and threw himself along with you in the bed.

“I’m back!” He said confidently with a goofy smile

After you were done processing what happened you stood there shock still clearly on your face, he glanced at you and froze and he immediately started to apologize

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you I was just e-excited to be back with you....I missed you...”

Your shock slowly faded and while squeezing the bridge of your nose you replied , “it’s ok...j-just don’t go that again..”

“Okay okay...I’m sorry....” he trailed off before wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzles his face on your neck, you giggled softly as his prickly jaw touched your neck.

“Tell me you missed me!” He yelled as he got on top of you and started to tickling your sides

“Ah n-no hahahahaha!” You tried to curl up and push him off but you were powerless over him.

“Say it!” Jim demanded as he continued until your stomach started to ache making it hard for you to breath.

“Ok ok I missed you!” You yelled breathless, as you control your breathing Jim chuckled releasing you. You looked up at him in questioning look as Jim sat up crossing his legs and placing his hands on his hips confidently.

“Hahaha you’re too easy (Y/N).” He said smirking full of cockiness. An idea popped in your head and a devilish smirk appeared on your face.

“Oh yeah?...” you snap at him as if challenging him. You then pushed him back making him stumble back falling into the bed, next you got on top of him while lifting up his shirt and placed messy kisses on his stomach and demanding him to not do it again.

“Hahaha! Okay I won’t scare you like that again I promise! I’ll even f-fix the door Hahah-no s-stop!” He begged for you to stop and you did and waited for him to catch his breath, once he had laid there for a while before gently grabbing you and laying you on top of him. As you layer there on his warm chest you listened to his heartbeat it was like a lullaby and it made you feel cozy and sleepy, you nuzzled against him enjoying the peace and quiet until Jim spoke up.

“Why don’t you call in tomorrow?...you can come with me on set and get to see me with a sexy mustache~...” you felt his gaze on you.

You chuckled “ok I will and I might want to see you in a sexy mustache...” You moved up and laid your head on his shoulders and gently glazed your fingers against his stomach, Jim placed a soft kiss on your cheek as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

“What you might?” He looked at you in disbelief and shock. You giggled at his reaction and wrapped you arms around him like a baby sloth.

“Of course I do! I’m joking” Jim flashes a cute smile at you while snaking his arms around your waist and placing kisses on your face and neck.

“I can’t wait!” He exclaimed full with joy, after that he gently rested his chin on your head and yawned. You almost forgot he hadn’t changed since he got back.

“Aren’t you going to change?” You crooked your eyebrow.

“Nope, I don’t wanna leave you...besides I’m right where I wanna be, there’s no other place I’d rather be.” He tightened his arms pulling you closer.

You blushed deeply at his words as you stared up at him while silently fangirled and you snuggled up with him, you didn’t mind you enjoyed this even if you were scarred shitless, you felt Jim shift a little and felt the warm blanket softly being placed on you both. As the sleepiness consumed the both of you you slowly closed your eyes and you felt at peace, nothing could ruin this moment.

“I love you...” Jim softly muttered catching you off guard, you blushed softly before responding

“I love you too” you say as you drift off to sleep.

#jim carrey imagine #jim carrey #please dont kill me

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fullmetalkittn · 6 years

Text

The Last King’s Knight - Ch.3 [Fin]

736.V.16th, 4:30am

The alarm chirped through the dark apartment at an ungodly hour, rousing a Tiger who was certain she had only been out for five minutes. After a late night spent among King's Knight friends, it took all the willpower the Glaive could muster not to chuck the unruly device across the room and roll back under the covers. Instead, she dragged herself upright and ground the sleep out of her eyes.

Except for the cell buzzing away on the side table, all was silent and still. Even the sun had more sense than to be up at this time.

Stifling an expansive yawn, she took the phone up and silenced the alarm, then checked her notifications. Of course, there weren't any. Her dear digital comrades had stayed up as late as she had, and were likely still enjoying the blessed oblivion of sleep. With one last forlorn look at the cozy pink quilt snuggled against her, Tiger stood up and began what promised to be the longest day ever.

After a breakfast consisting of sweetened Ebony and two slices of toast with butter and strawberry jam, Tiger made her way to the water closet where she stood like a zombie in the shower. Nice and hot for a change, she did more basking than washing as her mind sorted through her schedule.

Debriefing began at the Citadel, 8am sharp; she'd have to be out of the apartment by 6:30 if she wanted to avoid any risk of being late. While only a couple blocks away, the security crack down could mean anything, even for a girl in a Kingsglaive uniform. Maybe especially so, given the recent rearrangement, and it wouldn't do to gain the attention of Captain Drautos for being tardy.

Maybe I should leave at six...

She expected to be assigned some sort of guard duty, perhaps even an escort. Whatever it was, she hoped it wouldn't be a solo affair. As her mind sorted through the various unpleasant tasks that might present themselves, her thoughts drifted to a message that sat read, but unanswered on her phone. Received yesterday morning - just before her bedtime, it was a statement of intent and a request for support from Luche Lazarus. While not officially a Captain, he certainly seemed to consider himself such, and so texted orders from him weren't exactly uncommon. With no established hierarchy beyond the often distant Drautos, Tiger thought his assignments were typically sound and few argued against them. This one, however...

The water began to cool – a sure sign that she'd been under it too long. Once out of the shower, she dried off and pinned up her wavy, green tresses, then stepped back out into the dimly lit apartment. A weathered three-drawer dresser pushed against the wall just outside the bathroom door held all the clothing she owned. Her freshly cleaned uniform lay folded on top of it. She picked up the black bodysuit with a quiet sigh and worked her way into it.

The boys don't have to wear this. She thought with a scowl as she zipped and fastened it into place with a double-wrapped, black leather sword belt. Tall black boots with sterling buckles and three inch heels were followed by an equally black, winged-sleeve short coat secured with cross straps above her bosom. To finish off the ensemble, a length of pearly white Lucian silk fluttered between her shoulders. This marked her as wielder of healing magics, but as far as Tiger was concerned, it only added to the lengthy process of getting into uniform. Once finished, she examined her reflection in the half length mirror nailed to the wall above the dresser. The sturdy, protective material pushed her curves into a shape that wasn't quite her own, but she had to admit it wasn't unpleasing to look at.

Satisfied that nothing would fall off or burst open, she combed back and arranged her hair in an upswept ponytail. Finally, she draped the dog tags engraved with her Hunter alias around her neck. While not part of the Kingsglaive uniform, she never left home without them – as per her father's standing orders. Then she fetched her City ID, her hunter ID and her InsomniYen Card from the kitchen counter and tucked them into a pocket sewn inside her jacket.

“Just about ready.” She said, glancing at the mirror again. Already, her hair was trying to escape it's tied up predicament. Wisps of the jade-colored stuff had fallen down to frame her temples. She made a face and blew a raspberry at her reflection, then retrieved her phone. The display lit up at her touch. 6:17 AM. More than enough time for one map on King's Knight. Her thumb hovered over the game's icon, but she shook her head, opting for responsibility.“Time to go.”

The city streets were remarkably empty as she made her way towards the Citadel square. A few early birds and all-nighters shared the sidewalks, and there was hardly any traffic to speak of as she crossed the thoroughfares without a need to mind the pedestrian signals. Her abysmal sleeping habits made Tiger a typical part of the last-minute rush to get to work on time, and so she knew these things would change very shortly. But for now, at least, she could enjoy the relative silence and solitude of these precious minutes before dawn.

By the time she drew near the Capitol Promenade, the sun was up and Insomnia had awakened. Her people emerged from their skyscraper homes, occupying the sidewalks with purpose and the streets with sleek and stylish automobiles. A line had already formed at the upper gates to the Citadel courtyard; a dozen or so civilians and a couple members of the press waited to get inside. Figuring she still had plenty of time, Tiger was content to do the same. She settled in behind the little crowd, but found herself waved ahead by a gate guard who noticed her uniform and requested her ID.

“Running late, aren't you, Glaive?” The middle-aged woman asked as she scanned the plastic card's microchip. Her side swept brown hair and round, weathered face made Tiger think of her mother. “Many of your comrades arrived a good hour or so ago.”

What? Was this woman joking? “Are you joking?”

The lady chuckled in a way that also reminded Tiger of her mother, and handed back the id. “Afraid not, dear. Take care in there, won't you?”

“Yeah, you too. Take care out here, I mean.” The bewildered glaive wandered through the checkpoint and tucked her id away. Had she missed a memo? After all the fuss not to be late for a change, Tiger still found herself racing for the towering heart of Insomnia with all the panic and fervor of a tardy school kid. Luckily, very few civilians had been allowed past the gates so far and so there weren't many pedestrians or vehicles to worry about. She scampered into the courtyard at the front of the Citadel just as a group of uniformed soldiers occupying the entryway stairs began to disperse.

The guard had been right.

Tiger stopped to catch her breath at the base of the steps. Fellow Kingsglaive that she knew only in passing marked her presence with fleeting glances as they set off with faces full of determination. Had she missed the entire debriefing? It must have been a little past seven at the most. What the hell happened to Eight AM?

And where is Crowe?

A fellow caster, and possibly the closest thing she had to a flesh and blood friend in this city, surely she would have at least said hello or something. Maybe she had already left. Tiger scanned the departing soldiers for that unruly mop of brown hair. With luck, she could just tag along with her and wing the rest of whatever she missed. But instead, she found herself making eye contact with Luche Lazarus who stood at the top of the stairs. He frowned as he made his way down to her.

Well, shit.

“Rosa,” he addressed her using her last name. How she hated that militaristic crap. “Am I to take your embarrassingly tardy appearance here as a sign that you've decided to support this operation?”

“Right. The operation.” Also known as the DM she still hadn't responded to. Realizing what she had walked into, Tiger scoured her brain for an appropriate response that wouldn't piss him off, but in the end only the truth presented itself, “I'm sorry Luche. I haven't made up my mind yet. Have you seen Crowe? Was she here?”

His frown deepened. “No, and I hope you aren't thinking she'll make the decision for you. This is a choice you'll have to make on your own.” The veteran glaive paused and glanced up at the sky, then narrowed his eyes at her, “Lucky for you, there's still some time to do that, but not much of it. Text me once you've figured out where you stand.” With that, Luche gave her a brief nod and turned away. Tiger watched him scale the stairs back into the Citadel as that uneasy weight settled on her heart again. She took a seat on the empty steps and sighed.

Why do things always have to be complicated?

All she wanted was to do the right thing - to make her father proud and protect her mother. Now it felt like those two things were at odds with each other.

Thinking a bit of music would help her sort her feelings, she dug her phone out of her coat pocket. It vibrated briefly in her hand, indicating a missed message. When the display lit up to reveal an unread DM from Ignis in King's Knight, Tiger wasted no time in swiping open the device and loading the app to check it.

It was quite fun.

I must admit, I didn't expect to stay up so late on the eve of such a busy day, but I have no regrets. Indeed, our time was well spent. I dare say I outscored even you this time. However now that the sun has risen and our journey begins, I fear it will be some time before I'll have the luxury of playing again.

If you'll forgive my asking, I'd like to know your real name. That way I might know you should we reunite outside of the game. (And I still hope that we do, heh) Though you may not realize it, you know part of mine already. It's Ignis. Ignis Scientia.

Whether or not you share yours with me, know that I'll miss our time together. Do take care, Kittn.

Until we meet again.

She had to read the entire thing over again after the second paragraph unexpectedly caused her heart to flutter. After all, revealing his name as his handle only upped the odds that Ignis was actually an old codger like his frequent choice of character. Such a giddy reaction to this endearing message was completely uncalled for.

But then, she recalled he also liked to play the Indomitable Knight, Lancelowe. That one was decidedly more attractive for a tiny video game character lacking a mouth, and less ancient besides.

Amused at the continued mystery of Ignis's actual existence, Tiger bit her lip and thumbed out a reply.

Hello Ignis!

So this was your name the entire time? A handsome name like that must have a meaning. Maybe you'll teach me what it is some day?

But I guess that day will have to wait. And so will our rematch! It was a whole five points you beat me by! I can't possibly let that stand, so you'd better stay safe on your trip, ok? If anything happened to you I'd never reclaim my high score.

My name is Aria, btw. Aria Catarina Rosa. It's Altissian. Maybe you'll learn what it means while you're there. Then you can teach me that too, when you get back. In person, if you like. Until then, have fun in Accordo, Mr. Scientia.

I hope to see you soon!

Never before had Tiger reread or second guessed a message intended for Ignis, but this one she fretted over. Why did it read like awkward desperation? Had she always written that way? The whole handsome name thing was definitely a little lame. You could be sending this to an 80 year old grandpa, she reminded herself and resolved to edit it, only to fat finger the send button instead.

She blinked, then stared at her phone in wide-eyed horror when the sent message confirmation flashed across the screen. Six save me! What have I done?

As if it bore an answer from the Astrals on high, the obnoxious crown-city cell chirp echoed around her. Startled completely out of her skin, Tiger fumbled with her device, only to realize it wasn't the source of the sound. Above and behind, she scrambled to her feet, expecting to find Luche bearing down on her, armed with his mobile. Instead, she faced an equally harrowing presence as the Crown Prince himself strode down the stairs in the company of three other gentlemen. They wore Crownsguard crests on their otherwise casual clothes.

Trained to recognize Prince Noctis, but not exactly how to acknowledge him, Tiger eyed the quartet warily as they neared and wondered if she should bow or kneel or something.

But then Captain Drautos called out to the Prince from the top of the stairs. His voice drew the attention of Glaive, young Royalty and retainers alike, and all turned to witness the King of Lucis hobble down the steps towards his son. They met on the midway landing. Despite his failing health, a tangible power surrounded the monarch. Even standing out of earshot at the bottom of the miles-long staircase, Tiger could feel it pulsing like a distant heartbeat at the edge of her senses. Chosen as she had been, this was the well of astral might that she could tap into to fuel her magical talents at any time.

At least as long as the king lived.

Tiger glanced down at the phone in her hand. The face was dark, but Luche's request for support lit up in her memory. While he hadn't been explicit with the details, she had no doubt how this Operation would end. Betrayal.

I could tell the king right now. It's what a good Glaive would do.

But then I'd be leaving my parents to the mercy of the Empire.

Is that what a good daughter would do?

Before she could argue herself to a conclusion, movement from above drew her attention back to the Royal family. Prince Noctis's three-man retinue were heading down the stairs again towards a car that may have been parked there forever for all the notice Tiger had given it.

Passing nearest to her, the tall, bespectacled one in the fancy jacket glanced her way. His shrewd, blue-green eyes darted from hers to her hair before he returned her tracking gaze with a slow blink, a half-smile and a courteous nod. Tiger blushed. What the hell? She patted her ponytail to make sure it was still in place, then frowned, feeling a bit silly as she watched him take point near the black sedan.

It was the color, of course. It was always the color. She had attempted to hide her minty mane with dark brown dyes for the first few weeks of her Insomnian residence, but had quickly lost the patience and the budget to continue the charade. Let people assume what they would, she had decided back then. It hadn't really bothered her. Until now.

Crownsguard. She thought with a scowl as she lifted her chin and looked away. Then another thought followed that softened her demeanor as quickly as the first had soured it, He has pretty eyes, though.

Without turning her head, Tiger surreptitiously tried to get another look at them, but the caramel-haired gentleman's gaze was occupied by the phone he now held in his palm. So much for that.

Above, the Prince had parted ways with his father and was trotting down the steps. Though the staircase was wide enough to support a standing army, and there was no chance of collision with the royal heir, Tiger took a few steps back to give him the entire rise and bowed her head as he passed. She greeted him with what she hoped was a convincingly stoic, “Your Highness,” and placed her fist over her heart. She needn't have bothered, though. There was no sign that the young man had heard her at all as he hopped in the car. His companions followed suit, including the pretty-eyed one who spared the solitary Glaive a final glance as he slid into the back seat and closed the door.

The sedan drove off, following the paved roundabout towards the gate farthest from the Citadel. Tiger's gaze drifted back to the man with the cane who still stood on the stairs. Where before she saw a King in command of unimaginable power, she now saw a father with a face full of worry. He stared after his departing son as if he thought he'd never see him again.

She recalled the faces of her parents on the day she left for Insomnia. It was her mother who had looked after her that way; her eyes were full of worry while her father beamed with pride. They were the reason she was here. They were the reason she had taken this oath.

They were the reason she made her decision at last.

Tiger took a deep breath and unlocked her phone.

#FFXV #Fanfiction #Ignis Scientia #Kingsglaive #OC #Fluff #Backstory #My Writing #This Chapter kinda got away from me

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