#Looking down hallways and shit as we were headed upstairs for office hours

[tiredg0ds]

i hate living in america lol

[missymurphy1985]

The Writer (Tommy Shelby X Fem.Reader) - Part One

Warning - SMUT (eventually)

Request? Yes

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @heidimoreton

You looked in the mirror, straightening out your dress and taking a deep breath. Your boss David, who also happened to be your older brother, had arranged a meeting with you in the offices of the Birmingham Herald at 6pm sharp.

On the way there, you couldn't help but marvel at how you'd ended up here. Your husband had died two years after returning from war having suffered severe injuries, and after you'd taken on his job at the Herald while he was away fighting, falling ill on his return and subsequently dying, your brother, the editor, had kept you on so you weren't destitute. It was against all the principles of the time, a woman working, but your brother never once allowed the other men at the newspaper to talk down to you. You were the best storyteller and strongest journalist they had on the books and he would always have your back. The other men had grown to look at you as a sister almost - you were blessed to be in the position you were in.

Arriving at the Herald, you made your way to David's office.

"Y/n, I'm sorry to call you in this evening..." He smiled, embracing you and offering you a whiskey which you gladly accepted.

"I never have evening plans David, you know that. What was so important it couldn't wait til morning?"

"We've had an incredible offer and I want you to be the one to report it. The story is made for you."

"What is it?"

"Thomas Shelby has agreed to an article on his life to date!"

"Thomas Shelby? As in the Peaky Blinders?! Not a fucking chance David..." You recoiled in horror. You knew the man's history very well, you'd gone to school with his younger brother John and the stories of the Peaky Blinders were infamous. You hated the man - the thought of interviewing him mad your stomach turn.

"This story could launch your career into the big time Y/n! Think about it! The most secretive, elusive man in the country wants to tell his story to you!"

"To the Herald."

"No, y/n, to YOU. He asked for you. By name."

"How the hell does he know my name?" You'd written your articles under a male pen name so as not to distract readers from the content. Not all men were as modern as your brother and coworkers.

"No idea, but he specifically asked for you."

You mind turned - no one knew you worked at the Herald. You'd kept yourself to yourself, even moving out of Small Heath after your husband passed away. You'd lost touch with John just before he went off to war. There was no connection to the Shelby family at all.

"The reason I dragged you in at 6pm is because he wants to make a start today. This evening actually, there's a car picking you up in 30 minutes."

"David!! I can't do this interview for goodness sake, I'm not even close to prepared!"

"You have 30 minutes! Pull your finger out!" He laughed.

You'd crammed as much as possible in that 30 minutes as you could - your mind was whirring at 70miles per hour when the silver Bentley pulled up outside. Glaring at David, who simply smirked in response, you got in the car as the driver greeted you.

"Arrow House ma'am, won't take long to get there," the driver smiled as you asked him where he was taking you. Arrow House? His home? Why would the most secretive man in Birmingham want to meet you in his sanctuary?

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

Pulling up outside the huge mansion, you couldn't help but be impressed. The gardens were immaculate.

A middle aged lady greeted you at the front door and offered to take your coat. You smiled and handed it over, as she led you through to the dining room. You took the seat she offered.

"Would you like some tea Ms. Y/L/N?" You nodded, and she signalled one of the younger maids to action.

"Mr Shelby will be with you in a moment, please make yourself comfortable," the lady smiled warmly and headed out the door with your coat. You looked around the room. A large painting on one wall of the man himself with a large horse. There was a smaller picture on a cabinet just underneath that caught your eye. A beautiful blond woman, with piercing eyes and a loving smile, holding a small boy in her arms. You didn't know Thomas was married, let alone had a son. The house didn't seem to have much of a feminine feel to it though, it was borderline drab in its decor.

"My wife, Grace. And my son Charles." A voice behind you startled you, and you turned to see Thomas himself walking towards you, a glass of whiskey in one hand, a cigarette in the other.

"She's beautiful, Mr Shelby. And your son is adorable," you smiled, but he didn't return it.

"She certainly was." Your eyes grew wide as the realisation of what he'd said sunk in.

"Oh I'm sorry -"

"No need. It was a long time ago. Shall we get this over with Ms Y/L/N?" You nodded and he led you out of the dining room into a smaller one - clearly an office. The large oak desk sprawled out in front of the bay window. You took your seat opposite his at the desk and pulled out your pen and pad as he poured himself another whiskey. You shook your head when he offered you one, drinking the tea the young maid have brought in to you instead.

Your questions for him were simple at first. You asked about his childhood in Small Heath. His schooling. His childhood friends. Pretty much all one word answers, driving you insane, until you asked about his brothers.

"You knew John, didn't you?" He asked.

"Yes. Same year at school."

"Sadly, he's no longer with us. Shot by the Italians last year." You heart dropped - you heard through the grapevine that John had children and a wife and the news hit you like a freight train. You took a breath and a moment to compose yourself.

"I'm so sorry Mr Shelby..."

"I'm sorry too, I didn't realise you were so close?"

"We were close before the war. Lost touch after that."

"I don't remember seeing you with him?"

"My father wouldn't let me see him, so we had to be careful.."

"You and John were..."

"No no.. god no! Just friends Mr Shelby." He went quiet again, and sipped his whiskey.

Back to the questions. Mundane as they were, you needed them to get the full story. He wasn't forthcoming with the details. You had to really press him, but he spent most of his time drinking his whiskey and looking out of the window at the dark clouds rolling in outside.

"Listen, Mr Shelby, you clearly don't want this any more than I do so please, if you don't mind, I'd like to end the interview here." Your voice was stern, patience had officially gone out of the window he was so fixated with.

"Jack said you were feisty." You froze at mention of your late husband's name.

"How did you know Jack?"

"We served together in France. Good man."

"Is that how you knew my name?" He didn't answer, just nodded, again watching the weather changing quickly outside.

"Storm looks bad."

"If I leave now I should be fine." The first rumble of thunder made you jump, Tommy noticed your fear instantly.

"Scared of storms?"

"They used to scare Jack.." a second rumble had you grasping onto the chair.

"Stay until it passes." Was that a request or an order.. you weren't sure but he took your hand gently and led you into the hallway away from the window, into the main dining room again.

"Frances, have the curtains closed please." He spoke to the older woman who greeted you at the door and she dutifully obliged, closing the curtains in the large windows.

Tommy sat you at the table and gave you his glass of whiskey, your shaky hands accepting it this time. Every thunderstorm brought flashbacks of Jack's terror filled eyes.. his anguished cries of pain.. and ultimately the sound of the gun he placed at his temple before he took his own life. You took a sip of the warm liquid as Tommy sat beside you, a fresh glass of his own in his hand.

"Jack saved my life."

"He did?"

"Yes. We were underground digging.. we could hear the Germans on the other side of the dirt digging towards us... They broke through first and grabbed me. Jack beat them to death with his hammer to get them off me." Tommy's memory made you smile, and you laughed gently.

"He was always brave.. and strong. Put everyone else first. He never told me.."

"He never wanted praise, it was just part of his job. In return.. I said if anything happened to him I would make sure you were looked after."

"What?"

"The men at your office? They're under my watch. They respect you because you're a damn good writer, but they also know if they gave you any shit..." He raised his eyebrow and you couldn't help but smile. Even after his death, he was making sure you were okay. That was the Jack you wanted to remember.

"In that case Mr Shelby, I thank you."

"Call me Tommy eh? Here's to the bravest man in France." He clinked his glass with yours and you felt him almost begin to relax.

"I noticed a piano in the hall - do you play?"

"I did as a boy. My mother was a keen player, I used to watch her all the time. Gave it up after she died."

"I played for Jack all the time. It soothed him when he couldn't sleep." He smiled, a warm genuine smile that you couldn't help but return.

You'd spent the evening drinking whiskey and talking with Tommy, the whiskey hitting you much quicker than it did him, and you could feel your eyelids growing heavier.

"I have a spare room upstairs y/n, maybe stay tonight, I'll have my driver take you home in the morning." He stood before you had chance to argue and you followed him up the stairs.

He led you into a beautiful bedroom, the decor in here much more appealing than downstairs and the large oak double bed even more so.

"I don't want to impose Thomas..."

"That storm isn't letting up any time soon, and you're exhausted. You're welcome to stay. There's fresh clothes in the wardrobe. My wife was the same build as you, they should fit. I'll have my driver take you home at 7am. Goodnight Y/n..." His blue eyes lingered on yours a moment and you felt a rush of something you hadn't felt in a long time... Scaring you. Quickly looking away, you bid him goodnight.

[munsnz]

TRICKS OF LIFE — STEVE HARRINGTON

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢. — 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

Overview: Will Byers, a close friend of Y/N herself, although in high school, was missing, setting a sense of concern for him, wondering what could’ve happened as being interviewed by the police themselves. We continue to dive deeper into the girl’s life to the connections of some familiar boys.

Navigation — Mixtape

Doodles, words, and weird figures were being scribbled in the sturdy notebook, with the thin pencil marking the surface of the lined paper. Class was even more boring now that Y/N couldn’t bother to pay attention to her U.S. History class, vividly in her daydreams of where one of her close friends, Jonathan Byers could be since he never showed up that morning, the teacher decided to speak up, snapping her out of her thoughts.

”Miss Hopper, would you like to elaborate with what Tammy said?” He cleared his throat, standing next to the girl’s desk all eyes on her. Y/N frantically narrowed her vision to the board, feeling a sense of unease when everyone watched her intently. Her E/C colored eyes shifted from right to left, feeling a ridiculous amount of pressure starting to well on her chest. Breathing in and out, she squinted at the chalkboard, focusing on the big letter written on the board, The Holocaust. An eerie silence grew into place, maybe a silent cough held in the background. Y/N’s palms became clammy, scrambling through her unopened textbook and unwritten notebook. Stumbling through her words in the awkwardness, the door of the classroom swung open to find the principal of the school, in a fine suit.

The class’ eyes shifted from Y/N’s mess to the lady, standing by the doorway, “Can I have Y/N Hopper?” Now her heart dropped to her stomach, was she into deep shit now? Maybe someone had caught her smoking this time. Was this going to be another accusation someone had made? If her dad heard about this, she was definitely going to be toast.

The eyes were now back on Y/N, worrisome, she rapidly crumpled her sheets of paper along with the textbook into her plain backpack. She slung it onto her shoulder, keeping her head low and meeting contact with the principal who guided her out of the classroom as she closed the door behind them before walking by the empty hallway.

“Am I in trouble?” The girl nervously bit her lip, looking down at the squeaky floor, the principal moved her glance to see Y/N looking so timid.

The principal shook her head, putting a reassuring hand onto the girl’s shoulder, “No, you’re not. Hopper, one of the most intellectual students we’ve had here in Hawkins High. In fact we need your help.”

Without asking any questions, Y/N’s eyes widened, a smile forming on her lips. The walk to the principal’s office was a bit uncomfortable, as none of them spoke along the trail. Finally getting to the office’s door, they opened it to find her dad along with his handy dandy partner, Phil Callahan, whom Y/N had been very close with since the beginning of her life when Hopper first got his job as chief of police. Giving a little wave for politeness,  the principal directed the girl to sit down in the chair in front of her.

”I really regret to inform you but, Will Byers went missing the other night,” The principal’s eyes saddened, turning them up to the two police officers, “And from what your father had said, you saw him that night.”

Oh god.

Will Byers was missing. No, not will. Not will. Why Will? Will was just a friendly kid who loved to play D&D with his friends Mike Wheeler, Lucas Sinclair, and Dustin Henderson under their basement for neverlasting hours. The wizard, the position he played, the shy, bubbly and nerdy kid who trusted her no matter what. Will, Will Byers was missing.

“Steve’s a twat!” A middle schooler climbed down the stairs in the Wheeler’s residence, to find four slightly younger boys sitting on a couch, having a board in front of them. Curious, she kneeled beside Nancy Wheeler’s younger brother, Michael, “What are you guys doing? Some magic trick or what?”

Mike looked beside him, to find one of Nancy’s friends observing the board with the tiny figurines placed on top. Without precaution, the curly haired boy that was sat in front of him spoke up, “It’s Dungeons and Dragons!”

“Wow, that’s cool, I don’t know what that is,” She brought her knees to her chest with her arms wrapped around them. The boys’ eyes fell onto the girl. What was she doing here? Shouldn’t she be with Nancy?

“My sister is upstairs by the way,” Mike cringed a bit, to find the girl being ever so intrigued by what the boys were up to on a Wednesday night.

Y/N turned over to the younger brother, then to the other three boys, sitting in silence, “I know, but I’m sick of her talking about her boyfriend Steve. I wanted to see what you were doing.” Quietness began while glances were exchanged, the girl leaned closer and directed the boys to do so as well, she hushed, “Don’t tell Nancy, but sometimes she’s boring.”

Lucas and Will both looked at each fondly, as the rest nodded their heads in agreement when Mike spoke up, “Finally! Someone notices for once!”

Dustin shakes his head in disagreement, the boy gave an obnoxious smile, “No, Nancy’s awesome!”

The group of laughter, turned to Dustin who was smiling like a freak. Lucas snapped jokingly, “DUSTIN LIKES NANCY OOOOOO!”

“What? No I don’t!” Dustin’s face turned beat red while Lucas chased Dustin around, imitating a few kisses with the weird noises. Mike got up to stop the two from hitting each other and creating a racket in the living room, the three seemed to have began a rumble, while the quiet one cheered them on with laughter arousing him.

Y/N nudges the quiet boy, smiling towards his direction, “They’re a lot to handle huh?” The boy nods a little bit, after hearing the “Dustin I love you” and “Kiss me Dustin!” mimicks from Lucas, giving smoochy faces. “Aren’t you Jonathan’s younger brother?”

The brunette boy with the bowl cut nods again, trying to shout in between the shouting induced by the three boys fighting in from of them, “I’m Will!”

”Oh! That’s good! Your brother is in Mr. Clark’s class with me!” Y/N laughed, seeing Lucas and Mike stack on top of tiny Dustin squirming below them. Will and Y/N signaled to join the stack, feeling Dustin start to giggle hysterically while Y/N began to tickle his stomach. All of them burst into laughter in the stack until Nancy came downstairs to ruin the fun.

”MIKE WHAT THE HECK?!” Nancy shouted, pulling giggly Y/N out of the bunch of first graders tumbled on the rug, “Leave my friends alone for the hundredth time!”

After seeing her being pulled away, Y/N wiggled out of Nancy’s grip, stepping away from her and seeing the boys suddenly become so serious, “Nancy, I was already hanging out with them. They’re cool.”

”What?” She felt frazzled at the remark, then heard Mrs. and Mr. Wheeler coming in after a night out. Both looked satisfied in finally having a night out together due to taking care of their children and working.

“We didn’t know Y/N came over! We hate to have the boys alone here sometimes,” Karen Wheeler sat on the couch as the boys broke apart and sat in their own space in the living room, Y/N standing along with Nancy.

”Maybe you should get them a babysitter!” The H/C colored girl suggested, putting her hands on her waist, “They’re lots of fun to be with!”

”Be our babysitter!” Dustin stumbled to get up, jumping up and down, exclaiming. The others chimed in as well.

Lucas nods along, ”Yeah that would be great!”

”You would be the best babysitter in Hawkins!” Will chants, earning Mike’s agreement too.

Mrs. Wheeler laughed at the excited boys surrounded tween Y/N who seemed heartfelt to have people that want to be around her, “It seems like a great idea, I’ll talk to their moms and see what they think. I’ll let your dad know tomorrow.”

Squeals from the seven-year olds filled the living room, when Karen had considered the request, it had already been late and their moms would be at the Wheeler’s to pick the boys up back home. While Lucas slipped on his sweater, he shouted, “At least my babysitter doesn’t have to be the old hag Mrs. Wilson!”

“TRUE!” Dustin laughs along with him, while Will follows behind to find Mrs. Sinclair waving from the sidewalk standing beside her car with three year old Erica Sinclair, wanting to throw a tantrum to be let go from her mother’s grip. As Lucas, Dustin, and Will left they all chanted in unison, “Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” To plaster a cheeky smile on the girl’s face.

Never in her entire life has this girl felt so.... accepted, liked, included for once. Something the bratty kids of Hawkins Middle School had felt towards the girl. This felt like something new, something new with a long trail of friendship. Totes to the new babysitter of these boys, whom they enjoyed being around with, no matter what

.

[writingwithacupoftea]

Poison

Summary: When Y/N Shelby arrives back from a meeting with some potential business partners, her brothers, Tommy, notices that something isn’t quite right with her.  Hours later, the family are crowded around her bedside, while she lies on the brink of death.

Word Count: 3350 (ooh, that’s satisfying)

Trigger Warnings: vomiting and just generally being ill

A/N: My stubborn arse finally managed to finish this fic (even though I edited as little as possible so it’s quite long)!! Hope you like it 💜💜

The Shelby and Gray families were not ones for quiet - they brought chaos and noise with them wherever they went. But now, not a single member of the family could bring themselves to speak, the doctor's parting words circling around in their heads:

"It's not looking good, I'm afraid. If she wakes in the morning, then I think we can say that things are looking up. But I can't promise you that she will."

Tommy couldn't decide if the silence was a blessing or curse. He was beyond grateful not to have his younger sister's screams of agony echoing down the halls of Arrow House any more, but it seemed so unnatural: Y/N wasn't the loudest of the Shelby clan, but she was always there with a sarcastic quip, witty comeback, or words of comfort that none of her other siblings could ever quite get right.

Her brothers often said that she was the future of Shelby Company Limited - Y/N had a vision and was determined to see it through with Tommy's help, for even though they disagreed frequently, he couldn't deny that her ideas could be the making of the business in the modern world. Tommy was beyond proud of the woman that he raised after their bastard of a father left them. Yes, Arthur, John and Ada had helped him and Polly with raising their sister – but no one could deny that Tommy loved Y/N in a way that none of the others ever could.

Now, he and his brother were crowded around her bedside, helpless, wondering how they could have let this happen.  

The doctor suspected poison, and although he couldn't be sure which poison it was, Tommy knew exactly who had given it to his sister and let the guilt consume him.

***

Earlier that day...

"Tommy, do I seriously have to meet them by myself?" Y/N asked as she marched into her brother's office (without knocking, of course).

"I've told you, Y/N/N, I've got a meeting of my own to go to and I don't trust Arthur and John not to fuck things up even if you are there."  

She was meant to be having lunch with some potential business partners from America, but despite Tommy's reassurances that this deal would be of benefit for their future plans for the company, Y/N had a feeling that something wasn't right about them. When she'd mentioned her suspicions that the associates may not be as friendly as they appear, Tommy brushed her concerns aside as Polly raged on at him ("Thomas you're a fool if you don't listen to your sister now – it's her gypsy instinct and it's never wrong.")  

But still, Tommy insisted on going through with it. He wasn't backing down now.

~ ~ ~

When Y/N returned later that afternoon, Tommy watched in silence as she slumped down at her desk and put her head in her hands.

"That bad was it, eh?" Tommy questioned, jokingly.

"My head's pounding, Tom, don't fucking wind me up."

Arthur, who had heard the exchange, walked up to her, slamming a pile of work onto her desk. "Is our little Y/N becoming a lightweight?"

"Oh, piss off Arthur," the firmness in her voice surprising him, considering that she didn't lift her head up.

Luckily, Arthur took that as his cue to leave, but not before sending an amused look at Tommy, one that was not reciprocated. Instead, the second eldest brother furrowed his brows, all of his attention focused on his little sister, concern beginning to bubble inside of him. Not wanting to start any arguments, however, he simply settled with saying "We'll leave at about five o'clock if you're still feeling like shit, yeah? I just need to finish this first."

Y/N laughed, humourlessly, and gestured towards her newly acquired work. "I've got plenty to keep me busy, Tommy, don't worry."

"You know if you're really feeling -"

"No, Thomas." His sister cut him off abruptly. "I'm fine to work, it's just a headache. It'll go before I know it."

With that, she began reading the first document that Arthur had given to her, actively avoiding Tommy's eye.

~ ~ ~

A couple of hours later and Tommy, having been so consumed with his work, realised that he hadn't heard a peep from Y/N since she started working.  

Looking up, he immediately became aware that Y/N still wasn't back to her usual self. To anyone else, she simply looked hard at work, furiously making notes as she waded through her paperwork; but Tommy could see her discomfort from a mile off. The hand subconsciously rubbing her stomach, the occasional wince in pain, the fingers on her other hand massaging her temples.

Y/N didn't seem to notice anything as Tommy made his way past her desk to speak to John and Arthur. "Has she said anything to either of you?"

"Nah," Arthur replied, casually. "I didn't think I pissed her off that badly earlier though, so I don't know why. She just keeps ignoring everyone and won't fucking sit still."

This did absolutely nothing to qualm Tommy's worries.

John piped up, tentatively: "You don't think it's...you know?"

"No, I don't, John. So spit it out."

John lowered his voice to a whisper, glancing slightly over his shoulder to make sure that Y/N wasn't listening. "You don't think it's that time of the month, do you? She always get a bit cranky, doesn't she."

Tommy cleared his throat as Arthur looked at the ground awkwardly. "Yeah, he's got a point, Tom. Best not to ask any questions."

"Right." Tommy paused, before making his way back to his office.  

He mulled over his brothers' words. It was a reasonable explanation for her behaviour, but something just didn't sit right with it for Tommy. Y/N had always lived with him and over time he had developed an instinct for when that time of the month was meant to be, and this didn't fit the usual pattern.

Lost in his thoughts as he packed up his things, Tommy was taken by surprise when Y/N appeared in the doorway, a smile plastered on her face. "You ready to go, Tom?"

If Tommy had looked a bit closer, he would've seen that the smile was just a bit too bright to be genuine. He would've seen that it didn't quite reach her eyes, which looked tired and pained in themselves. But, in an unusual move for Thomas Shelby, his shock at seeing such a drastic change in his sister overtook everything else.

As they drove back to Arrow House, the sun beginning to set in the distance, Tommy thought to himself 'Maybe John and Arthur were right, for once. I'm just worrying too much.'

Upon their arrival home, the siblings' usual routine began: Y/N made her way up to her room, whilst Tommy headed straight for his study to carry on working after greeting Grace and Charlie.  

And so, the evening began as a fairly typical one...but Tommy would never forget that night for the rest of his life.

~ ~ ~

At 7 o'clock each night, either Y/N or Grace would barge into Tommy's study to drag him to dinner (otherwise they thought that he'd never eat). In actual fact, Tommy always knew when dinner was going to be, but he enjoyed their visits to come and fetch him – for once, Thomas Shelby enjoyed being looked after.  

Grace had left for the weekend to spend some time with friends, and so when 7 o'clock came and went without Tommy being disturbed by his sister, he began to worry. Remembering her headaches and discomfort in the office, he came to the quick conclusion that she must have fallen asleep and made his way upstairs to go and wake her.

Call it his instinct as her older brother, but Tommy just knew that something was off as he stood outside Y/N's bedroom. Opening the door and peering around it, he froze at the sight before him: his sister, collapsed on her bed, sweating profusely and mumbling incoherently to herself. Tommy rushed over, panic eclipsing him, "Y/N?"

As he brushed the loose strands of hair away from her face, Tommy felt the heat radiating from her. Having nursed his sister through many an illness during her lifetime, and therefore knowing exactly what to do (or so he hoped, for Tommy had never seen her quite this bad before), he jogged down the hallway to fetch a bowl of lukewarm water and a cloth from the bathroom.

But Tommy's plans to nurse his sister through the night himself were put to an abrupt end upon his return. Y/N was curled up in a tight ball, arms wrapped around her stomach as she groaned and grunted in pain, vomiting violently over the side of her bed.

"Mary, call the doctor NOW!" Tommy yelled over his shoulder before dashing to sit next to his sister on the bed, dampening the cloth and dabbing it to her forehead. "Y/N? Y/N, speak to me, love, what's wrong?"

Still he got no response. Y/N didn't even give any indication that she knew that he was there. Her moans of pain simply got louder and more agitated and Tommy couldn't bear it. He had always done everything that he could (and more) to keep any pain far, far away from his sister, and when it couldn't be prevented Tommy would stop at nothing to make things better for her. Even when she was a baby, and their mother was still alive, no one could separate Tommy from Y/N's side when she was sick or injured – he didn't trust that others wouldn't cause her to suffer further, and so Y/N remained under his watchful eye until she was back to full strength (and even then he was wary for a week or so afterwards).

So, for Tommy, seeing his beloved sister writhing in pain, not knowing what was wrong or how he could help, was complete and utter torture for him.

~ ~ ~

When Mary arrived upstairs to inform her employer that the doctor would arrive within ten minutes, she barely recognised him: hair messy, hands shaking and muttering tender words of comfort, the Thomas Shelby in front of her was far from the controlled man that she had become accustomed to dealing with. But the thing that shocked her the most came when the man looked up at her. Whilst the blue of his eyes had become less icy since his marriage and the birth of his son, these eyes were wild, frantic and displayed a boyish vulnerability that Mary had never even imagined. They were glazed with unshed tears, and yet this barrier did nothing to hide the whirlwind of emotions that were communicated through them. The overarching message that they conveyed was as clear as day: Thomas Shelby was frightened.

The man's voice, thick with emotion despite his attempts to compose himself, snapped her away from her thoughts. "Call the rest of the family. Explain what's happening. Tell them that they need get here as quickly as possible. Then see to it that Charlie's looked after for the night. I'll be staying here."

"Yes, Mr Shelby. Shall I send everyone straight up here?"

Tommy simply nodded, his attention already devoted to his sister once more.

~ ~ ~

The minutes that followed this interaction would forever haunt Tommy's memory.

Whilst Y/N appeared to have stopped being sick, her cries of pain continued to escalate, both in frequency and in volume. Each one pierced through Tommy like a dagger straight to his heart. He knew that nothing he was doing was helping her, and that the situation was completely out of his control, and Tommy hated it. His brain became like a cage, trapping him in his tormenting thoughts: 'You should have done something sooner...you've failed her...how can you ever claim to be a good brother again when you can't even ease her pain...this is your punishment...it's your fault...it's all your fault.'

Tommy clutched onto Y/N's hand like a lifeline, mopping her brow as sweat continued to spill from every pore and her groans became screams tearing from her throat.  

Just when he thought that things couldn't get any worse, the convulsions began

Sheer terror consumed Tommy as he watched Y/N's body jerk violently on the bed. Silent tears cascaded down his face as he sat there, completely helpless, trying not to breakdown himself. That was the last thing that Y/N needed. He knew that he should call Mary or one of the maids, but he couldn't bear to leave Y/N's side to do so. He felt almost paralysed with fear, the only movement he made being the kisses that he placed repeatedly to her knuckles in between his pleas of "You're going to be alright, sweetheart...I'm here...I love you..."

The doctor came rushing in just as the convulsions were dying down, and immediately shooed Tommy away. Had the circumstances been any different, Tommy would have questioned the tone that the doctor took with Tommy – no one dismissed Tommy Shelby like that (except for Aunt Polly). But the Shelby man didn't even register it in his desperation for his sister to be looked at, so that he knew what to do to help her. He just needed to do something to make things better for her.

Standing outside Y/N's bedroom door, he heard the low rumble of his family's voices. Going against every one of his instincts to stay in position outside of Y/N's room, he ran down the stairs to see his family.

John, Arthur, Ada, Finn, Michael and Polly, like Mary, were shocked by the version of Tommy that appeared before them. From this alone, they knew that things were bad. Despite Tommy's explanations, the sight of Y/N lying weakly in her bed took them by surprise. Y/N always seemed so strong and full of life, the light of the family, and the realisation struck everyone that they may be plunged into darkness in the next few hours.

***

"It's not looking good, I'm afraid. If she wakes in the morning, then I think we can say that things are looking up. But I can't promise you that she will."

The silence left behind in the room after the doctor's departure was deafening. He had given Y/N some injections of fuck knows what to stop the convulsions and ease her pain, but he didn't know what else to do. He'd never dealt with anything like this before.  

All the family could do was wait.

After some time to process the doctor's warning, each member slowly began to unfreeze, or so it seemed. Polly disappeared to the kitchen to make tea and sort out some food, although no one felt like eating. John called Esme, and afterwards Arthur rang Linda, informing their wives that they wouldn't be back at home until at least tomorrow – they couldn't leave their sister. Michael ventured down the corridor to fetch some more chairs. Ada went to tend to Charlie, and Finn went with her, sent with the task of updating Mary and telling her to go to bed.

That left Tommy. Tommy, who couldn't believe what was happening. Tommy, who knew that, despite his new family with Grace, he couldn't cope without Y/N.  

Tiredly, the second eldest of the Shelby clan moved to reposition himself next to Y/N on her bed, holding her small hand in his and observing the baby hairs which fell delicately in front of her face. She would always be his little girl, no matter how old and grey and feisty she became, and nothing would change that. He refused to let anything take her away from him before they reached that point, not even poison.

As he mulled this all over in his head, remarking to himself how much she'd grown up yet how little she'd changed, Finn came back into the room. Breaking the silence, the youngest brother tentatively asked "Will she be alright?"

When Tommy looked up at his younger brother, he realised that he wasn't the only one who was scared. Truthfully, Tommy hated not being able to give a straight answer, and simply replied "She's a fighter, Finn."

God knows, they all hoped that she wouldn't stop fighting now.

***

Hours dragged on like days. The slow rising of the early morning sun taunted Tommy. The brighter it became in that room, the more the chance of Y/N waking up again slipped through his fingers.

He was the only one who stayed awake for the entire night, despite Ada's pleas for him to rest and Polly's snaps of "You're going to be no use to her if you're dead on your feet." Even the occasional drooping of his eyelids couldn't persuade him to relent. Because he knew that the minute he gave into that temptation, something would happen and Tommy couldn't risk missing anything.  

Part of him had stayed awake in case Y/N needed anything or got worse; part of him stayed awake in case she herself woke up (he didn't want her being alone); and the final part of him, the part of Tommy that was shit scared of what was going to happen, wanted to spend every single moment with his little sister. Because he didn't know if one of them was going to be her last on this Earth.

Arthur and John woke up in the chairs next to Y/N's bed, and gradually the rest of the family came to join them.

Polly was the first to speak. "Has there been any change?"

Tommy didn't trust himself to say the words out loud, so responded by shaking his head and placing a kiss to the back of Y/N's hand, which he hadn't relinquished his hold on.

Whilst her skin was clammy to the touch, she was no longer sweating like before. Her breathing had evened out and the expression of discomfort that had marred her face had melted away: Y/N looked peaceful. To Polly and the rest of the family, this was a good sign, an indication that she was getting better. However, the thought lingered that this would make it easier for her to slip away undetected.

This was the most terrifying idea.

The morning continued to pass by: 9 o'clock, 10 o'clock, 11 o'clock...still nothing.

Everyone was becoming more and more agitated, the ticking of the clock doing nothing to ease the tension. Tommy had finally moved, deciding to pace up and down the limited space left in the room instead. Occasionally, someone would walk over to the window or run downstairs to get a new book. But still they waited, each member of the family united in their hope that Y/N would wake soon.

When the clock struck midday, that hope began to fade, even though no one would say it out loud; it could just be felt in the atmosphere.

However, when no one was looking, Y/N's eyes slowly crept open, squinting as the bright sunlight beamed through the window. Once her eyes had adjusted, she observed her family positioned around her room and noted the peace and quiet, even if Y/N could tell that it was tense. Internally, she sighed to herself 'No fucking fighting, at last.'

Her voice was croaky as she said quietly "How long are you guys gonna hover round my bed like a bunch of creepers, eh?"

The relief was immediate. As Arthur and John roared in excitement, shouting "SHE'S ONLY GONE AND FUCKING DONE IT," Tommy raced over and rested a hand on her cheek tenderly, their tired eyes meeting for the first time in hours. His eyes spoke of admiration and disbelief, whilst hers held only adoration for her big brother. Tommy placed a kiss to her forehead, and let a couple more tears fall.

"I love you, sweetheart."

"Love you, Tom." Y/N smiled softly. "Thank you for staying with me, I knew you were there the entire time."

"As if I could ever leave you, eh."

"Or I you, Tom."

And that was the simple and honest truth.

[thran-duils]

Nowhere to Run (P.2)

Title: Nowhere to Run (Part Two) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Stony. Reader was caught unknowingly stealing from the capitol harvest and is drug to the capitol for punishment. She is offered an option to go to trial or accept work in the main government building. Upon her tour, she ends up in trouble and catches eyes of two of the Master Council that decide she needs to be broken in by their hands. Words: 6,130 Warnings (for this chapter): Non-con, servitude, forced orgasms, verbal and emotional abuse, double penetration, unprotected sex Author’s Notes: Definitely biting Mother Gothel vibes when Tony says, “No? Oh...” Also, sorry that this got so long but also not sorry.

Part One || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

The courtyard between the villas was swathed in flowers and shrubbery. Despite how scared you were to be here, you came to a stop in the pathway, looking around in awe. This kind of garden was one you dreamed of to have and lay in, soaking up the sun. Your hands came up to your sheer hood of your robe to push it back — before leaving the Capitol you had been given a robe, a symbol of your assignment. It was white and embroidered with flowers and upon seeing the garden, you spotted the flower it was based off of. You had not seen it in any other part of the Capitol yet and surmised it was specifically here and therefore, the reason for the embroidery choice. It was deep blue, weaving in vines around the pillar. You reached out, rubbing one of the petals between your fingers gently.

Tsu snapped his fingers in your face, getting your attention once more.

“We don’t have a lot of time. The Masters are in a council meeting, and they’ll be expecting you to be settled in and starting your tasks by the time they return. Now I was told you will be assigned primarily to Master Rogers and Master Stark.” He leaned in close and hissed, “And please heed my warning: obey. They are not known to be forgiving.”

He looked serious and you nodded, “Noted.”

“I hope so. They won’t be lenient about back talk. Do not repeat what you did at the capitol building.”

Tsu turned on his heel and continued on, taking a path towards one of the villas. “This is Mr. Roger’s.”

It infuriated you that they all had such large houses just to themselves. Many around the country shared the houses with multiple families and they were nowhere near the size of these.

And being inside, you were even more upset seeing how lacking homeliness there was to the place. It was all marble flooring, minimalist, and cold, really. He gave you direction about the rooms, nodding in acknowledgment when you passed a couple of other servants. They nodded quickly back before moving on to continue their tasks. Your eyes lingered on the large, canopied bed in the master bedroom. Why someone needed that big of a bed just for themselves was beyond you. But the Capitol was greedy, and it was so because of the council members living above their actual needs.

Your mouth watered as you were led to the kitchen; dinner was being prepared and it smelled delicious. The cook himself was skinny and you wondered if he was ever rewarded with the fruits of his labor. You were to attend to the morning tasks specifically and the cook showed you where the coffee was — a delicacy that apparently Master Rogers enjoyed every morning — and where he would leave the prepped food for you to cook for breakfast. On top of preparing his outfit for the day to lay out and getting his toiletries ready for after his shower.

“Am I to do the same at Master Stark’s as well?” you asked Tsu, who nodded. “How can I be expected to be in two places at once? Who is first?”

“They will work that out amongst themselves and inform you. Come now, over to Master Stark’s. Apparently one of his maids has fallen… under the weather.” You furrowed your brow at the hesitance and Tsu leaned in, “We shan’t expect to see her for probably nine months.”

You felt bile swirling.

“It happens from time to time with the Master’s maids. Why, Master Wilson had one just last month.”

“Charming. I’m so glad that’s a common occurrence that no one bats an eye,” you muttered.

Tsu wagged his finger at you, “That’s that attitude I was talking about. I’m not going to be here to remind you to keep it reined in. You’re gonna have to do it yourself.”

Master Stark’s house was across the courtyard. His house was just as unwelcoming and darker in interior design. There were many sky lights, a huge one over his sunken living room. You stepped down, looking at the plush couch and the large flat screen mounted on the wall. Again, so much space for just one person. His bedroom was facing the forest with a bed as large as Master Roger’s and you walked along the windows, staring out as Tsu led you to show you the master bath. You stared at the shower, taking in the floating shower head above and the wooden bench along the wall. That must be relaxing.

“Servants quarters are downstairs. There’s some in every villa. I’m not sure which one you’ll be in but again, they’ll let you know.”

He was leading you back through the hall, pointing out an office and a library. You stuck your head inside the library curiously, your mouth falling open at the walls of books. Back home, you had the pleasure of a collection, but it was not even a quarter of this.

“Come on, Y/N. We don’t have a lot of—” he stopped hearing noise downstairs, the front door slamming it sounded like.

“Matilda!” A man bellowed.

“Shit. He’s back already,” Tsu hissed before grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the library.

Coming along the exposed hallway, you looked past the glass railing over the living room. A woman was in front of who you assumed was Master Stark. He was sneering at her already, “You forget yourself, Matilda. I told you to have my bath ran by the time I returned. Perhaps missing dinner will be in order for you.”

“I’m sorry, master,” she said looking nervous, her head bowed.

Master Stark was dark haired and handsome. He was dressed smartly in a fitted suit, you still able to make out the tautness of his body. The movement at the stairs caught his attention. He took his sunglasses off seeing the pair of you coming down the stairs.

“Master Stark,” Tsu greeted as you approached. He gave a curt bow, and you followed his lead.

Chestnut eyes followed your movement, and you did your best to avert your own gaze. You instead looked at the other woman, seeing the red in her cheeks at being berated.

“I was just showing Y/N around yours and Master Roger’s homes to get her acquainted.”

“Right. The new wench,” Master Stark remarked. You bristled at the term ‘wench’ and shot him an annoyed look. His lips twitched seeing your expression before you averted your gaze again, knowing you had let your temper get the better of you. “Leave us. I can take it from here.”

Tsu nodded and gave another bow. “Good day, Master Stark.”

He left without looking back and you suddenly felt vulnerable without him.

“Girl, come to me,” Master Stark said, snapping his fingers at you like you were a pet. To Matilda he ordered, “What are you still doing standing there, you idiot? Get upstairs and start my bath! Do you wish to miss breakfast as well?”

“No, sir,” she said shaking her head and turning to go up the stairs you had just come down hastily.

You closed the space between the two of you, standing a foot from him, your arms clasped in front of you.

“You were told you are to prepare my clothes and breakfast later in the morning than Steve’s?”

Steve must be Master Rogers.

“Yes, sort of,” you responded in a timid voice.

“Speak up. Muttering annoys the absolute fuck out of me.”

“Yes,” you rose your voice. “But I was unsure which house to be at first. Thank you for answering that for me. What time do you want me here, Master Stark?”

He sighed, “Steve is always up at the asscrack of dawn. Usually about five.” You held back at a grimace knowing you would need to be awake well before then yourself then. “I don’t usually get up until eight. That gives you a couple hours at least at his place beforehand. And you know, before this goes any further, let me see you. Strip.”

“Excuse me?” you asked mortified.

“Did I stutter?” Tony asked dryly. “Untie your dress.”

“No.”

Tony’s eyebrows rose, “‘No’?” He looked sinister, “Oh…”

“No, I mean you didn’t stutter,” you said quickly, trying to correct your misstep.

Amusement was still evident; he did not believe your lie. “Well, get to it then. As I’m sure you heard, I have a bath running and I would like it to be hot.”

Heat creeped up your neck as you reached up and untied the fabric at the back of your neck. He circled slowly, his fingers brushing at your side. You flinched away instinctively, and his hand latched tightly.

“Did I give you permission to move?”

“No,” you whispered.

“What did I tell you about speaking up? Are you daft?”

“No,” you said louder.

“Good girl,” he said, his hand loosening.

It was one thing to have him examining you like cattle at auction but touching you on top of that was humiliating on a whole new level.

His lecherous examination continued, his fingers following his circle he walked on your skin. He traced down from the nape of your neck to the curve of your ass. His fingers fluttered down and gave a squeeze. You sucked in your cheeks, tensing, but you did not say anything like you had at the Capitol. He held, as if he was waiting. When you stayed still, he made a hum of approval before he moved on.

Fingers ghosted along your shoulder. He was so close; you could feel his breath on you. He was frightening, his presence ominous. You fought to keep your eyes forward and not meet him. You had a feeling that would result in punishment.

He stepped away from you, his hand thankfully gone.

“You’ll do,” he said dismissively.

‘You’ll do’? That was more hurtful than outright telling you that you were not up to his standards. Or was he playing mind games?

“Dress yourself. Before you head over to Steve’s, go and straighten up my library. I had young Master Parker over earlier and he has a terrible fucking habit of not putting things back. I like authors by their last name. Don’t fuck it up, do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

<><><>

You awoke at 4:30am and dragged yourself from your small cot. You took on the friendly advice given to you by the other servants to use the small glow stick like device to light your way without turning on the actual lights. There was no need to rouse Master Rogers from sleep before he awoke himself; that would piss him off.

Picking up your list that had been left by one of the head servants, you saw you were to pick out his outfit, sort his toiletries, mop the kitchen floor – where were those supplies? – prepare his coffee and breakfast, and lay out his newspaper for him. And wait for further instruction if there were to be any. The only order for his outfit was ‘casual’.

Master Rogers – Steve – was sleeping soundly still. You stared at his form for a few seconds, his muscular arms and chest that were exposed from his silk sheets. He was a large man, handsome too just like Master Stark, with a strong jaw. His blonde hair was splayed across his forehead from his tussling in the night. You were given little to no instruction for his clothing, and you went into his closet blind, holding up the small light you were holding. His room was shrouded in darkness from the curtains being pulled and you were grateful you had brought the light.

In his closet, you fetched a relaxed top and a soft cardigan with slacks. That was as casual as it was getting in his selection of clothes. You kept the hangers and brought them soundlessly out to his bathroom door, hanging them up. You went inside and began gathering the toiletries listed and separated them between the counter near the sink and his shower.

Down in the kitchen, you made first to find the mop and thankfully, it was in the pantry. It was fairly easy to mop the floor, that you were used to. But after that, you stared at the oven before clicking a button you thought was the correct one. It came to life. This was far more technological than you had dealt with, but you had to figure it out. You wished you had had more time with Tsu or the cook yesterday. It took you a moment to figure out where the skillets were, but you were able to get his bacon started and his eggs. His coffee was more difficult than you thought originally. He wanted a latte. You followed the instructions to make an espresso and then whisked the milk, pouring the espresso over it.

As if on cue, you placed the latte next to his plate on the counter as instructed next to his newspaper, and he walked in.

His eyes ran over you, and you gave him a curt bow as Tsu had done for Master Stark. “Good morning, Master Rogers.”

“We haven’t met,” he responded, coming over to his plate and grabbing his newspaper.

“Y/N, sir.”

“Hmm, right. I remember you.”

He remembered you from what?

“I’m to help you in the morning. I hope my outfit choice was appropriate.”

Steve looked down and shrugged half assedly. “It’s comfortable enough.”

Holding back your attitude, you asked, “Is there something I can do different in the future that will please you more?” His eyes flashed lasciviously, and you quickly added, “In regard to your outfit, I mean, sir. Just so I know what to choose.”

“I’m not sure I can teach a mountain girl anything about fashion on a whim. So, just watch the rest of the masters and the council members outfits. I don’t have the energy to try to explain it to you. I’m sure this long, halter gown is the fanciest thing you’ve worn and it’s merely a villa servant’s dress.”

How you wanted to knock him a good one for being so crass. It must have been evident in your expression because his eyes crinkled as he picked up a bite of his eggs, taking a bite.

“Did I strike a nerve?”

“No,” you blatantly lied. “How are your eggs, sir?”

“Fine, surprisingly. You made them quite fluffy.”

Steve’s hand moved in what seemed like a very deliberate movement, knocking his cup, and it fell to the floor. Ceramic shattered and his latte flooded around it.

You bit your cheeks to keep from screaming, staring at it. You had just cleaned the floor.

“Oops,” he said flatly, not sounding sorry at all. “Why did you place it so close to the edge?”

He was saying it like it was your fault. This pompous asshole. But you inhaled deeply.

“I’ll make you another one,” you told him calmly although you were screaming internally. He was not going to get a rise out of you that quickly and that easily. Tsu had warned you to obey and you were not going to risk being beaten or worse – time added to your sentence – over spilled coffee.

“Another one…?” He asked expectantly.

“Master Rogers,” you said stiffly.

You bent over and began picking up the shattered pieces first. Scooping them up you brought them over to the trash can and tossed them in.

Turning back around, you caught sight of him staring, his eyes focused on your hips before he met your gaze. He looked aroused and you knew he had been staring at your ass as you were bent over. Nonchalantly, he cleared his throat and looked back down at his newspaper.

You felt relief surprisingly when he said, “I’m sure Tony will be coming back from the land of the dead soon enough. You should hurry over there.”

<><><>

You cracked Tony’s door open and quietly slipped in. You saw two figures in the bed as you crept by towards his closet. You used the natural light coming in from the windows to guide yourself through the closet. He had said dark grey for his color scheme, so you did your best, matching the jacket, vest, and slacks but a white dress shirt. The socks and tie you chose were burgundy, a contrast. He had not asked for that, but you would see how that worked.

Quietly, you came back out of the closet and stilled when you saw someone slipping out of the bed. You recognized her in the light… Matilda. She stopped only for a moment, locking eyes with you before snatching her dress off the ground and bringing it up and tying it around her neck. She sneaked out of the room, more than likely going to start her chores. So, he forced someone he verbally abused to his bed.

Gently you walked over to the bathroom and hung up the clothes on the outside of the door. You moved inside and got together the materials the same you had for Steve and put the appropriate ones in the shower and by the sink.

When you emerged, Tony was stirring, and you moved quicker to get out of the room before he was fully awake.

But to no luck.

“Morning, little vixen.”

You stopped in your movement and turned back to face him, clasping your hands. “Good morning, Master Stark. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

His lips up ticked into a closed smile, “I’m sure it is time for me to be awake if I find my bed cold. Night is over and consequently the fun.” He threw the covers back and got back out of bed unabashedly of his naked form. Your eyes widened at his brazen behavior, all of him on display. You turned your head, avoiding looking at him and he chuckled. “You’ll get used to seeing this.”

Tony moved towards the door and eyed the suit choice. He shot you a look and said, “Look at that slight boldness of color. It’s subtle against the neutral but it’s nice. Good choice.”

He winked at you before going into the bathroom. You took that as permission to leave to start his breakfast.

<><><>

The whole first day you had put up with both of their antics. They were trying your patience and it was getting to you. You had never crossed two more pretentious men and they were so insulting to their staff. Steve had called you “pigheaded” for placing his newspaper on the right instead of the left of his plate this morning and you wanted to just tear it up in front of him.

You were currently in Tony’s office waiting instruction. There had been a task after breakfast to clean his office and before you started, you wanted more direction, so you did not make a mistake.

He walked in finding you still standing still, and he asked, “You know, to clean, you need to actually be moving?”

“My instructions said to dust but I was not sure what I should touch and not touch, Master Stark. I was waiting for you to give me direction so—”

He cut you off, “When it says dust, just dust. But, you know, I’m actually glad you waited so you’ll be in here longer.” He stalked over to his desk and opened one of his drawers, pulling out a box. He unwrapped it and you watched him pull out a pair of lace, barely there panties. Your heart clenched – he surely did not mean to give those to you? He placed a small device into the crotch of them and held them out to you.

“What’s that?” you asked slowly, not moving.

“I like some entertainment while I work,” Tony commented. “Put them on. They’ll be a snug fit, right up against what I’m sure is a beautiful pussy.” You stared back at him, and Tony returned a challenging look. “Are we going to have a problem?”

At loss for words, you stammered, “I… for what?”

“A problem ‘for what’? Yeah, that’s exactly what my question is. There should not be a problem when I tell you to do something directly. Come over here and fetch them and put them on,” Tony ordered you impatiently. “Before I lose my temper.”

As if you were moving against your own will, your legs moved forward, and you came to the desk. You reached up underneath your gown, his eyes raking over your exposed bare legs. Yanking down your underwear, you tossed them to the side by the desk and took the underwear from him. Hunger was swimming in his eyes, and you swallowed sharply. He was right; they were snug, the protruding part right up against your bud.

He clicked a button on the small remote and the underwear turned on. You grimaced your teeth as you felt the vibration, if only for a few moments.

Tony looked elated at the expression on your face. “Sweetheart, if you can dust everything here without coming, I’ll be so proud.” He leaned forward and winked, “But I’m going to make you work for it. Our work meetings are so boring, and I enjoy watching you women fighting against an orgasm.”

You hated this. You were to clean his office and he was going to be brushing your cunt with his toy.

He picked up the glass by his desk and opened the mini fridge, pulling out the ice cubes. He clunked some into his glass and poured some water over the top of it. Settling back into his chair he eyed you, waiting.

Swallowing your pride, you turned from him and began at the far end at the stacked bookcases. You shuddered as the panties worked at your clit, longer this time. He did not hit the button at regular intervals, so it caught you off guard every time. You would be holding a porcelain figurine and clench it, hoping to God you would not drop it. You were bound to break something the closer you got to coming undone. He was continuing on with his virtual meeting as if nothing untoward was happening to you. You bent to grab a book that had fallen off the shelf and he hit it again. You snapped back up and exhaled sharply, clenched as it vibrated relentlessly against you. You gave the book a quick brush over before placing it back on the shelf. You took a step and he hit it again.

Having had enough, you turned around and hissed, “You’re distracting me. How am I to work, Master Stark?”

He muted his microphone on his computer and blocked his camera before turning in his chair towards you. You saw the bulge in his pants and that only served to make you more upset with the situation. How much he was getting off on this was unbearable.

“That’s kind of the point of this. But, really, you’re distracting me, little vixen. With your hips and those soft sighs leaving your mouth every time I press the toy. It’s very beguiling,” Tony argued, relaxing back in his chair. You heard the ice clinking in his drink as he brought it to his lips. “And I’ll distract you however much I want to. Don’t you forget that. Get back to work. Now.”

He clicked his microphone and camera back on, resuming his meeting. His fingers were tapping the remote that was lying on the desk, teasingly. Pissed, you turned back.

It buzzed again only moments later, and you clenched, squeezing your thighs together as you brushed the bookcase.

“Ah ah. Naughty girl. Let me in,” Tony intoned, and you loosened. He took the opportunity and hit you again with stimulation.

You let out a frustrated noise and threw the duster onto the ground.

“Fuck this!” you exclaimed.

Tony hit the hide and mute on his computer quickly at your outburst, caught off guard. You got a small satisfaction out of that in the heat of the moment that you had thrown him off his game.

He turned towards you again, looking furious. That did nothing to throw water on your temper. You hastily tore the underwear off and threw them in his general direction. Tony’s eyes followed the descent of them to land at his black oxfords. “Send me back! I’ll take on an extra month — six even if I can just be back in the capitol building! This is torture!”

Tony drug his gaze from the panties back to you. His elbow was still resting on the arm of the chair.

Chest heaving, you watched him and slowly felt the dread creeping in. His eyes were hard, and you remembered who exactly you were dealing with. He had all the power in this relationship, and you had just lost your temper with him, outright disobeying something you had been ordered to do. And you may have embarrassed him in front of other Capitol council members in your outburst.

Tony stood from the chair and stalked over to you, peering down his nose at you. His voice was dangerously low when he said, “Go up to my bedroom and wait there for Steve and I. On the bed. Naked.”

Naked? You gulped.

Even you knew better than to argue with him with that scathing glare. You slunk away and you felt his glare burning into the back of your head as you closed the office door behind you.

<><><>

Curled in on yourself, you waited. It seemed to drag on forever, the waiting. You just wanted them to come up and belt you and get it over with.

When the door opened, you dared to raise your gaze, finding the both of them coming in. Their jackets, vests, and ties were gone. The top buttons of their dress shirts were undone, apparently have relaxed before this. Tony must have called Steve to his office and relayed to him what had transpired between the two of you.

You were doing your best to try to keep your breasts hidden, your legs crossed to hide yourself as well.

Tony came to a stop in front of you and he held out two fingers, pulling your chin up to force you to look at him directly. His stare was cold.

“You really pissed me off earlier,” he informed you point blank.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“I’m sure you are now. At the time, I know you meant every little ounce of venom you spat at me. And that I won’t abide. And neither will Steve. What goes on in one villa, goes on in the other. You will be well behaved in both.” When you did not say anything, his hand came to clench your jaw and you winced as he forced your mouth open as he mocked in a higher pitched voice, “’Yes, master. I understand’.”

“Yes, master, I understand,” you repeated, wincing against his tight grip.

“And we’ll make sure that sticks. We are in charge here,” Tony told you, letting go of your face and going to work on the rest of his buttons.

You had hardly noticed Steve had undressed himself to his briefs. You had been so focused on Tony’s imperious presence before you.

Steve was holding the panties you had thrown at Tony earlier. You felt sick as he told you, “Let me put these on you and don’t make it difficult.”

No. They were not going to beat you like you feared. They were going to do worse. Matilda came to mind being in Tony’s bed when you knew that was the last place she would have wanted to be and your eyes shot to the door before landing back on Steve who was coming close now.

Freeing himself from his boxers, Steve’s hand ran up and down his length. You cowered back, crawling back on the bed, tucking your feet to come onto your knees. You did not want to be in here. He smirked seeing your fight or flight kick in.

“Sweetpea, you know that’s not an option. Come back.” You tensed, shooting another quick look at the door. Steve’s expression melted from amusement to annoyance. “Now.”

You unfolded slowly, coming back to the end of the bed, your heart hammering. You had had sex before, but it had only been with the boy next door, the one you had thought once that you would marry before you had been brought here. Not like this. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you sat still as you could to let him slide them up and you allowed him to pull them all the way up. You spotted Tony still had the remote, a wicked grin on his face.

Steve was jutting out towards you, and you stared down at his length.

“Your hand,” Steve told you. “Wet it with your mouth.” You shakily did as he asked and he ordered, “More spit.” You did that as well. “Touch me.”

You felt humiliated but you did what he asked. He was thick and your hand slid up and down his length, wetting him with your spit. He moaned softly, his hips moving ever so slightly as you continued to stroke him off. The underwear vibrated and unlike before, they were not turning off. Tony was not giving you any reprieve. You tried to adjust so the movement was not directly on your bud but no matter what you tried, it was right there, and some angles made it worse, causing you to shiver at the direct contact. You caught Tony’s eyes and he was watching with heightened arousal, his erection evident in his slacks.

Steve was leaking precum in no time and you were short of breath with the stimulation on your cunt. You had shot a look at Tony finding him naked now, working himself up at the scene before him. You were getting the panties so wet and you wondered if that was going to affect the toy.

It reached a moment when Steve had had enough of just your hand. He stopped your movement and tossed your hand aside. You leaned back as he towered, his hands snatching at the sides of the panties and yanking them down your legs roughly, tossing them aside. You barely had time to react before he was picking you up in a fluid motion. You yelped at the airborne movement as he dragged you onto the bed with him. Steve laid down and pulled you in top of him, your hands planted by his head. His cock slid in with ease to your wet pussy, his lips sucking at your breasts.

The bed dipped with Tony’s added weight, and you heard him adjusting in between Steve’s legs, his hard cock brushing up against your tight ring. You realized fully what he was aiming for when his thumb met your ass and it was cold, covered in lube. You felt him squeeze some into you.

Having their way with you in your pussy was one thing but this was something else entirely, especially since Steve was already inside you. You had never had anal sex, let alone two men in you at once. This was their punishment.

Desperately, you begged, “Please don’t!”

Steve’s laugh was cruel. “‘Please don’t?’ Me? I’m not doing anything, darling. I’m just sitting here. Fully...seated... inside your tight cunt just enjoying it.”

You tried to look over your shoulder at Tony, “Master—"

But Steve grabbed your face and forced you to look back at him. “Relax…. Relax….” he breathed encouragingly. “You don’t want it to really hurt do you?”

There was no time for you to answer him as Tony started pressing in. It burned and you cried out. Steve was whispering in your ear to encourage you to relax, telling you to be a good girl. You choked on a cry, tears stinging as Tony continued to sink into your ass. You were so full.

“Aw, she’s crying, Tony.”

Tony sloppily kissed your temple, his hand tight on your throat. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. You’re doing so well! Taking it like the little whore we knew you are. Take your punishment… you’ll be loving it in no time.”

He pulled out slowly before pushing back in, keeping a slow steady pace. You breathed, trying to focus on the way it was subsiding to pleasure. You sniffled, hanging your head as he continued using you, Steve still waiting inside. You were sure their cocks were brushing each other in that thin membrane.

“Well-behaved now too. Just gotta fill her with cock to train her. Make her needy,” Steve rasped. “Tell us how much you like it, you little slut.”

It was an order. And you were just a rag doll between them right now; what other choice did you have but to comply?

You could not lie to yourself either, you were being stimulated to a whole new level.

“I love it,” you breathed shakily, a sharp whine escaping as you felt them both rocking in and out. They had a rhythm going, like they had done this before.

Steve continued with his dirty talk, “You want it? You wanna be fucked?”

“Yes, I want it. I wanna be fucked.”

Tony groaned at your declaration, slapping across your ass as you rocked between them. The reverberation sent a tremor through you, further stimulating you.

Steve bit roughly at your nipple and you yelped. His breath was hot as he growled, “You wanna be used like a perfect doll. Right? You wanna behave? Because if you don’t we won’t finish.”

Every nerve was on fire, and you were losing yourself to the feeling. No, they had to finish.

You nodded fervently, “I wanna behave. I wanna behave.”

“You know how lucky you are to be filled? What women would beg to be in your spot? You should be thanking us!”

“Thank you for filling me up,” you cried as Steve buried himself roughly. The shame of your pleading and groveling was overshadowed by every brush of their cocks inside you, pushing you towards the edge to come tumbling down.

They were working you like the doll Steve promised you were going to be. Your breath was short, and you were beginning to shake on your arms.

You heard Tony groan, “There you go, there you go. Fuck!”

“I got her Tony,” Steve grunted, holding you tight as broken cries left you. “I’ll hold you, sweetheart.” You trusted him in your delirious state and collapsed against him as your body gave way. You shouted, stuffing a fist into your mouth. Steve yanked your hand away and you cried out. “Let us hear what we’ve done to you, you naughty girl.”

Steve held you in place as Tony sped up, thrusting quick. You continued moaning with the heat tearing through you.

“You’re gonna take every fucking drop,” Tony husked. “Perfect little cumslut!”

He groaned animalistically, his cum emptying into your ass. You sighed relieved and buried your face into Steve’s collarbone. Tony slid out and you whined pathetically feeling him spill out onto your thighs.

“Almost done, doll. You’re taking your punishment perfectly, shaping up so well,” Steve kissed along the side of your face. “Tony, you did nothing to help me stalling myself with those hard thrusts of yours. Felt every rib of your dick, you bastard.” You heard Tony chuckling as Steve resumed his own thrusts. You whined, so sensitive but he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, and he was finishing soon, spilling his seed into your aching pussy. He gave a few more lazy thrusts before he picked you up and rolled over to drop you onto the bed.

You laid there exhausted, bare in the center of the bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath.

Steve was pleased. “I love that gaped, cum filled look. Especially on her.”

They sounded a million miles away, you still drowning in what had just happened.

Tony came into your sights, and you turned your head towards him, exhaustion in your bones. “Gather yourself and then come join me in the shower. I’ll give you that before you come back out here and strip my bed to clean the sheets. Can’t keep you off your duties for too long, can we? I won’t be giving you special treatment no matter how well that perfect ass of yours just milked me.”

He turned before stopping and then he added, “By the way, I will not be sending you back to the Capitol building. If we have our say, you won’t be going home any time soon.”

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney @biiskuitx

[axoxtxhxh]

Not Without Trying - Chapter 13

Summary: The questioning of Reiner takes place, but will Reader be able to handle seeing him?

LevixFem!Reader

ReinerxFem!Reader

Warnings: A small bit of torture (it’s mainly punching)

Word Count: ~ 2,600

“Did… um…” The lump in her throat was so big at this point, she could barely speak. “Did you really love me?” Tears were pouring down her cheeks and her nose was dripping. She sniffled. Reiner looked at her, devastated.

“Y/N… I’ve never stopped loving you.” He revealed. “Not once.”

“But you…” She wiped her nose on her sleeve and brushed away her tears. “You still did this.”

“I didn’t have a choice.” He tried to approach her, but the chains kept him close to the wall. “Please, Y/N just let me explain. I promise, I—”

“All those houses…” The tears were rolling down her cheeks like waterfalls and her breath was starting to hitch. “All those people…” Reiner continued trying to get free from the chains to reach her, his own eyes watering now. He just needed to explain to her.

“Y/N… I…” He couldn’t see her like this. He couldn’t look at her this hurt, knowing he caused it and couldn’t hold her.

“There were so many people who suffered.” She started sobbing. “Reiner, my family.” She covered her face in her hands and wept.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.” He pulled from the wall again, but couldn’t move more than a few inches away. “Please, I’m so sorry.” He pulled again and again and again, but no luck. “Fuck! These stupid chains!” He twisted his body, trying to get free just to go to her. “Please! Y/N! Please!” He was sobbing now and sunk down onto the concrete. He just needed to hold her. He needed to explain everything. Every stupid decision he made, all the regrets he had, he just needed her to know.

They were both crying that they didn’t hear Levi open the cell and walk over to her. He put his hand on her back and guided her out of the cell and headed upstairs.

“Wait!” Reiner called. “Wait! Y/N, Please! I love you! Just let me explain!” She continued hearing him call until she was in the mess hall. Levi guided her upstairs to her room and laid her on the bed.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” He asked her, sitting on the bed. She nodded and he rested his hand on her shoulder, rubbing her arm then leaned back on the bed so she could rest on his chest. Levi reached his hands up and pulled her hair loose, running his hands through her hair as she cried.

After about an hour, Hange knocked lightly on the door and opened it, peeking inside. Levi and Y/N sat up.

“Sorry to bother you so soon.” She said from halfway behind the door. “Levi, Pixis wants to see us. Y/N, when you feel up to it, please come to my office.” They both nodded and he left.

Levi turned to Y/N, resting his hand on her cheek and rubbing away the tear lines. His shirt was fully soaked through. She laid her head on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to do anything.” He held her hand as he spoke. “They can do whatever they need with Hange, Miche, and me. You could stay here until everything is figured out.”

“I know.” She nodded. “But I need an explanation too.” He kissed the top of her head and stood up, looking at her one more time before he made his way to the door and opened it. “Levi.” She called and he turned around to look at her. “Can we take the restraints off of him?”

Levi clenched his jaw and looked away from her.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Then he left. Levi met Hange in the hallway.

“They want us to question Reiner again.” Hange told him. “They don’t think he will talk, but they want it to look like we tried before they send Y/N in again.” Levi’s head shot up to look at Hange.

“They what?” Levi glowered.

“I know what you’re think—”

“I won’t allow this.” He started to walk back to their office, but Hange grabbed his arm.

“If this weren’t Y/N, you’d be suggesting the same thing.” Their voice was quiet. “They will obviously give her a choice, but we both know what she will say.”

Levi and Hange went back down the cell to question Reiner. At this point Levi was visibly furious, hating the fact that he had to put on a show for Reiner.

“Where’s Y/N?” Reiner asked. The tears on his cheeks were dry now. His eyes followed Levi as he opened the cell and walked inside. Hange stayed outside.

“She’s not here.” Levi released the restraints around Reiner’s hands allowing him to separate from the wall and pulled a chair up to sit in front of him.

“What are you—” Reiner started.

“I am asking the questions.” Levi stated. “Where are you from?”

“I only want to speak to Y/N.” Reiner declared.

“You are not in any position to negotiate. Where are you from?” He repeated.

“I am only speaking to—”

Levi leaned forward, stepping on Reiner’s hand and Reiner cried out.

“Do whatever you want,” Reiner panted. “I only want to speak to Y/N.”

Levi shot up from the chair and was on top of Reiner, holding his collar. He punched his cheek.

“Maybe—” Punch. “—I should—” Punch. “—hit you—” Punch. “—for every—” Punch. “—time I had—” Punch. “—to see—” Punch. “—Y/N cry—” Punch. “—because of—” Punch. “—YOU—” Punch. “—You piece—” Punch. “—of shit.” Punch.

He let go, sinking to his knees, breathing heavily and Reiner collapsed to the floor.

“Levi.” Hange’s hand was on his shoulder. “He’s unconscious.”

…..

Back in the main office, there was a small knock at the door and Y/N walked in.

The room was empty until Levi, Miche, and Hange walked in. Levi looking significantly angrier than when he left Y/N and Hange looking worried. Hange passed out tea to everyone and when Levi sat next to Y/N and took a sip from his cup, Y/N noticed how bloody his knuckles were.

“What happened to your hand?” She asked, worriedly.

“It’s nothing.” He put his hand on hers and they waited for Hange to speak.

“I think you might know what I’m going to say. The only thing we need is to get Reiner to talk.” Hange walked to the side of the table and Levi stood up, almost making a barrier between them and Y/N. Y/N and Miche’s eyes moved back and forth between Hange and Levi. Hange walked back to their seat and sat down and Levi moved to stand in front of Y/N’s chair, leaning against the desk. “He seems like he will talk as long as it’s to you, Y/N.”

“I’ll do it—”

“No. No way.” Levi protested. “No fucking way. I won’t let you.”

“You won’t let me?” She scoffed.

“You know what I mean.” He looked at her. “You are only thinking about everyone else right now. You need to think about yourself.”

“It’s my decision, Levi.” Y/N grabbed his hand. “I appreciate what you’re doing, but Hange is right, this is the easiest way.”

“Please just think about this, Y/N.” He begged.

“I am thinking about it.” She told. “Think of the information we can get from him. If he really is willing to tell us everything. Answers about titans, where he comes from, who else is there. We could know all of it. I can get Reiner to tell me.” Levi sighed and looked at the ground. Hange noticed the way Y/N was looking at Levi and realized it might be better if they could talk alone.

“Miche, let me debrief you on some things.” He stood and they walked outside, closing the door behind them.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Y/N started, “But I can do it. The first time was hard, but I’m prepared now. I have all the questions in this packet, I even have some of my own.”

Levi didn’t respond, he just leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, her hands in his. Y/N reached forward and pulled him into her lap. Levi glowered at her and she laughed then pulled him in for a hug. They stayed like this for a while.

“If at any point you want to stop,” he began, “just tell me.”

“I will.” Y/N pulled his face close and kissed him. “What do you say you come to my room tonight? After all the questioning.”

He looked at her and let himself smile a bit before leaning down and connecting their lips. They let it get deep enough, but then pulled away. Levi stood up and reached for her hand and they both left to meet the others.

…..

They made their way back down to the cell. Pixis, Hange, Levi, Miche, and Y/N were the only ones there, hoping to keep the group small so no information could be leaked. As they reached Reiner’s cell, Y/N could see him sitting on the bed, hugging his knees. He looked up as he saw them. As soon as he saw Y/N, he stood up and was about to speak.

“If you can’t stay seated, we will have to restrain you again.” Levi directed. Reiner sat back down.

They placed a chair in front of where Reiner sat with enough space between to feel safe. Y/N sat there and the rest of them sat against the back wall. She could see that he’d gotten a beating since she was last here. That explains Levi’s hands. Reiner kept trying to smile at her, each time wincing from his split lip.

“Where are you from?” She began, reading from the list of questions they gave her.

“I—I’m from a place called Marley.” His throat was dry, the words coming out scratchy. Y/N turned around and looked at Hange. They stood up, getting a glass of water and handing it to him.

“When did you become a titan?” She continued.

“When I was 12 years old.” This made Y/N freeze, her breath caught and she looked at him, heart beating quickly. She quickly cleared her throat and continued.

As she asked each question, she became more and more confused as Reiner explained his situation. She started crying when she learned about the children being manipulated into giving their lives, their futures to a cause they never chose, Reiner needing to be reminded that he had to stay sitting.

She moved her chair closer when Reiner spoke about his mother and father and his reasoning for joining the military. Scooted even closer when he recalled his father’s reaction when he first spoke to him. She held his hand when he spoke of Bertoldt and Annie and what happened to Marcel, but soon dropped it after he talked about breaking the wall.

“You were a kid,” she whispered. “You were a scared kid who didn’t have any options.” She was looking at the ground, eyes moving back and forth, unable to believe what she was hearing. “Reiner…” She looked up at him and tears were filling his eyes.

“I wish I could take it all back,” he spoke so softly. In spite of everyone protesting, Levi being the first to say something, Y/N stood up, grabbing Reiner and pulled him into a hug. He leaned his head on her shoulder and cried, squeezing fistfuls of her jacket as he hugged her. They stayed like this for a couple minutes until Y/N sat him back down on the bed and she sat next to him, arm over his shoulder.

There were a couple final questions that they went over. The biggest worry being that Marley would attack looking for Reiner and that they still wanted Eren. Pixis, Hange, Miche, and Levi all stood up.

“That’s enough for now,” Pixis spoke.  “We will have another short round of questions in a couple of hours.” Y/N put her hand on Reiner’s leg, squeezing a bit for reassurance and then stood up to leave.

“Y/N…” Reiner paused, making sure she would wait. “If I had told you before, would that have made a difference?” She turned around, looking at him.

“Honestly,” She started, “… I really don’t know.” Then walked out the cell.

…..

Y/N laid in bed wondering if Levi was actually going to show up. She regretted making plans to be with him tonight. Not that she didn’t want him to be here with her, but she couldn’t get her mind off of Reiner’s story. He was a child, just a small kid who didn’t know what he was doing. He thought he was doing his best. Taking care of his friends and trying to help his people.

The door to her room opened up and Levi walked in, closing the door behind him. Y/N propped herself up on her elbows and watched him as he approached the bed.

“You’re not sleeping?” He asked, getting in bed with her. She laid back down, turning her body around so she was facing him.

“I was waiting for you.” She pulled the covers up to her chin and he rested his hand on her waist.

“Sorry, things got busy.” He pulled himself closer to her.

“What things?” She asked. “No one told me anything was happening.”

“It’s nothing.” He pressed his lips together, almost smiling. “It’s just some last few questions.”

“Nothing?” She sat up. “Like your knuckles were nothing?” Levi looked at his hand and took a deep breath. Y/N continued staring at him. “I don’t like being used.”

“That’s not—”

“Isn’t it? She was starting to get angry. “Use me to get to Reiner, but keep me entirely out of the loop. Then after he gives us all the information we need, we just dump him?”

“Dump him?” Levi asked surprised. “What are you thinking is going to happen? We’re just going to let him go live his fucking life? Walk free just because he gave us some information?”

“He only has a couple years left,” she whispered then started crying. Levi took another deep breath.

“I know you’re worried about him.” He started. “But… do you really think that anyone will just let him go free?”

“It’s not like I think he should go free, but…” She took a deep breath. “Maybe a second chance? I don’t know… I know he did a lot of bad things. I know. They were unforgivable things and I will never forgive him for what he did to my family, to Erwin and to everyone else… But it doesn’t seem like he did them because he wanted to do them. Can we really punish the person who was forced to do it?”

She looked over at him. Since Reiner got back, Levi had a lot of things running through his mind. Things related to the safety of the scouts, the safety of the people, the safety of everyone’s lives within the walls, but the more he spoke with Y/N, the more he continued wondering about their relationship.

“Are… Are you still in love with him?” Levi swallowed hard, not sure if he actually wanted to hear the answer.

“No... Maybe.” She wiped her cheeks. “I don’t know. I think so. He just left so fast, I guess I never got the time to really get over him… I don’t know. I don’t think I can forgive him. Everything he did. And he lied to me.” She looked at Levi. “I’m stupid. I’m being stupid, aren’t I?”

“No, you’re not.” He reached and put his hand on her cheek. “This thing you do, where you care about pieces of shit, it’s one of the reasons I love you… and I think it’s a big reason you love me.” She laughed quietly. “Why don’t we just go to sleep?”

She nodded and laid back down, cuddling into Levi’s chest. She didn’t know what her feelings were for Reiner right now, but she definitely needed to talk to him more. She didn’t know how, but she just knew that she needed to see him.

Taglist: @levisbebe @nefelimalfoy​ @lainessia​

[myhauntedsalem]

10 Cops Share Their Scariest Paranormal Encounters

1. THE PHONE CALL

My uncle works for dispatch in my town and he recently told my family of the weirdest call he’s ever gotten. He says that he had received a call from a landline one night and when he answered it there was only static on the other end. This happened two more times. Finally, he calls a squad to go check out the address from the caller ID. When the cops got there and walked into the house they immediately saw that there was a dead body. The person had been dead for 5 months.

The craziest part about it was that there was no electricity or any other utility working. So there is no way they should have been able to get those calls into dispatch. But if they hadn’t, who knows how long that person’s body would have stayed there.

2. THE HANGING SOLDIER

I had a call to a residence for a mental evaluation or a “5150.” Anyways, I get there and speak to a 50-something-year-old woman, who states her 20-something-year-od son is under the influence of an unknown drug, and kept repeating that he can’t go in his bedroom because there was an old man hanging in his room. She stated she was too scared to go in his room and investigate it for herself, because he constantly brings over friends that are drug addicts, and is unsure if his claims were true or not.

I then go speak to the son, who is clearly under the influence of a stimulate. He goes on to tell me that he was told by a “spirit” to not enter the bedroom, because her father, dressed in his military “Class A” uniform was hanging in his bedroom.

I check the room out and of course there was no body hanging in the room. As I’m in the middle of explaining to the mother that there was no body in the bedroom, a veteran officer arrives on scene to assist me.

He pulls me aside and stated earlier in his career he responded to this residence, and that same bedroom, he had to investigate a suicide by hanging of an older male subject. He didn’t remember all the details, so I looked it up in our report management system in my patrol car and sure enough the officer was correct. The subject who died was a WWII veteran and had dressed in his military uniform and hung himself.

3. “SHE’S INSIDE THE HOUSE”

I’ve never been a believer in the paranormal, but that day I made an exception. I responded to a call made by an elderly lady. She reported that she kept seeing a young girl running through her yard and she was afraid of vandalism or maybe worse.

On my way over, it started to pour like there’s no tomorrow, lightning and thunder too. When I arrived at the residence, she pointed to where the yard was and I made my way over there. I tried to shine my flashlight along and asked, “Is anyone out here? C’mon out.” But nothing, all I heard was the sound of loud thunder in the back.

I made my way back inside the house and the lady (now trembling in a corner) told me, “She’s inside the house.”

I hear a thump in the background and I see a young girl (about 13) running from one side of the house to the other. I quickly moved towards her and asked her to stop, but then she disappears right in front of me. I thought it was my eyes playing a trick on me but then the lady yells out, “There, there she is, right outside.”

I turned towards a big window leading to the backyard and there she was running around, but how did she get passed me to exit to the back door?? I immediately went outside and she had vanished, again. After I wasn’t able to find anything and with no logical explanation, I told the lady the girl had run away and I wasn’t able to catch her due to the weather. I asked her to calm her down. Some months later passed and I found out the elderly woman had passed away and some new people had moved into her old home. Not long after that, dispatch picked up a call from the same house. Now the new tenants reported a young girl running around in their backyard and suddenly appearing inside their house. I let someone else pick the call.

4. THE ABANDONED HOUSE

I worked as a police officer in a small town in rural Nebraska. Back in the 90’s, I was patrolling through town in winter. We had several abandoned houses in town, but one seemed to have the attraction of copper thieves, so we were told to keep an eye on it. Drove by it around 7:00pm, since it sat on a corner lot, I had a clear view of all four sides of the house. As I drove around the corner. Nothing looks out of the ordinary. About two hours later I drive by again and the back door is wide open.

I know that the back door was not open when I drove by it earlier. Looking at the snow on the ground around the house, there were no footprints. So I think “What the hell?”. Call dispatch, tell them I’m investigating an open door at that address and ask for a county sheriff to start my way. I walk to the open door, pull out my flashlight and shine it inside. The house has obviously been gutted for the most part. The plaster walls have been torn down, debris piles everywhere. Since there were no footprints in the snow around the door other than mine, and with all the dust on the floor not showing any footprints, I chalk it up to the wind or maybe the door just opened on its own. I was about to secure the door when I heard a loud thump come from upstairs and what sounded like kids laughing. So I enter the house and yell out “Police department, come downstairs!” More of what sounds like kids playing. I tell dispatch that it sounds like there are kids in the house and start making my way through the kitchen into the living room where the stairs are. All the while cautiously checking the main floor.

Two more times I hear something upstairs, but since I’ve had no response, I start thinking maybe it’s an animal. Still, I hear what I’d swear was kids laughing. I head upstairs and it all gets quiet. The upstairs is relatively small with a hallway at the top of the stairs that has one bedroom on the right, one straight ahead at the end of the hall, and a bedroom on the left. As I get to the top of the stairs, I hear a thump in the bedroom to the left. I carefully peek around the door and it’s an empty room with a small pile of plaster and wood debris in the middle. No kidding, sitting on top of the pile of debris was a page torn out of a child’s book with a picture of a police officer on it. The hair stood up on the back of my neck, I got out of that room, quickly cleared the other rooms upstairs and got the fuck out of there.

Told dispatch nobody was in the house, locked the back door and never went back in there again.

5. THE DISAPPEARING PASSENGER

As a controller about 15 years ago, I took a call from a hysterical man who had picked up a motorcyclist on the slip road to the M6 who had been standing in pouring rain at the side of the road with a petrol can next to an old Norton style motorbike. He drove on the short distance down the motorway to the next service station and as he pulled off the carriageway he turned to talk to his passenger and he had disappeared.

Besides himself he contacted the police, it later transpired that at the very point the passenger disappeared there had been a fatal accident involving a motorcyclist about 20yrs previously.

It still sends shivers up my spine and I still have a copy of the incident print. I spoke with the officers who attended and they were confident the man was a genuine everyday fella!

6. THE FOOTPRINT

Back when I was working as a cop on a military base, I loved working night shift. Didn’t deal with 99% of the bullshit that day shift dealt with and what little stuff we did deal with was usually really interesting.

Well most every building on a base is alarmed and the alarms are tied right into the desk so we know the instant they go off. When we get an alarm activation, we close the base, and go check the building, pull on all the doors, see if we can get in. If we can, we go into the building and secure it, check all the doors and corners to see if someone set the alarm off.

Well, one night I was on patrol with my alpha (partner) and we get called to respond to an alarm activation at the elementary school. So we go, secure the building, and call in that the building is all secure. No problem, keep patrolling. So about 15-20 minutes go by and we get another alarm activation. We get back out there and check and now there is a maintenance door open that leads into a boiler roomish thing. Nothing in it, we close it, lock it and get out.

Another 20 minutes. and another alarm. We respond, all the doors are still locked and we can’t get in, maintenance door is locked. Call in the all clear. This time my buddy and I sit on opposite sides of the school and watch to see if someone is coming and yanking the doors real hard to set the alarm off. We sit there and watch, nothing happens and right as we’re about to leave, another alarm activation as we’re sitting there. We inform the desk that we’d like the building manager on site to help us secure the interior and to let us in. (This is like now 3 am.)

Building custodian shows up and we start doing a walk through, checking all the classrooms and checking all the maintenance rooms and that’s when we see one of the maintenance doors open with the lights on in the room. Now, this room is literally the size of a closet.

We walk down there and look in, no ones in it and that door is locked when it closes. We look in there and we find a single footprint of a bare foot made of water (Left foot as a recall) of a small child. Freaked the living hell out of us because no one reported a missing child and the entire building was clear and still locked up. No one left, no one entered and we checked every inch of that damn place (literally a 3 hour deep sweep including ceiling tiles.)

Freaked the ever loving shit out of us and to this day, my partner refuses to go into that school.

7. THE FLYING MAN

Whilst working in remote Australia, we were forced to ‘move on’ an elderly aboriginal man because the other locals had accused him of witchcraft, and other things. We drove him to his township approximately one and half hours drive away. The other locals were terrified of him as he was rumored to be a witch doctor. We dropped him off and warned him not to return to town for three days. We turned the vehicle around and drove back to town, flying, probably 100mph+. It took 45minutes to drive back, upon our return, we find the SAME elderly aboriginal sitting in the street. To this day neither of us can explain it, maybe the other locals had every right to be scared.

8. “I NEED YOUR HELP”

Not a police officer, but a 911 dispatcher.

There was an old couple who lived on a run-down ranch house about 20 miles east of town. When the husband passed away, the woman would call 911 at least three times a week, asking for assistance with very mundane tasks not normally dealt to first responders. “I need help turning the thermostat up”, “I need help boiling water for my tea”, etc.

The woman developed dementia, and eventually, it progressed to the point where she believed she was calling 911 to ask her deceased husband for help. All of the dispatchers would recognize the address immediately, even though all she could say was “(husband’s name), I need help. Please come home and help me”

One day she called, and again was only able to repeat her husband’s (I’ll call him “John”) name. “John, I need help. Please come home and help me John.” By the time the first responders arrived on scene, they found the woman lying dead in her bed. The first unit on scene called dispatch to confirm that it was the woman herself who had called 911, as rigor Morris had already set in. We wrote it off as the fact that the heater in her house wasn’t working, and the ambient temperature in the room was about 50 degrees.

We continued to receive 911 calls from that woman, at that address for just over a year after she passed away. Even after her home was vandalized, and burned to the ground, the phone calls did not stop. “John, I need your help. John, please come home and help me.” We were obligated to send a response each and every time, but not once did we find anyone on or near the property.

Multiple calls to the phone company confirmed that the phone line had been disconnected, and the call was not coming from another address.

9. POSSESSED

I was a 911 call taker 10 years ago when I received one of the creepiest calls ever. It was freezing that night, which usually equaled a calm, quiet shift due to even the criminals not wanting to go outside. Around 3am my call box popped up green and as usual I asked what was the emergency. A man starting frantically screaming that his still was possessed by a demon and tried to cut his heart while he slept. He had ran when the attack started and locked himself in his bathroom. I ask him a series of questions trying to figure out what the hell is going on.

I ask him a series of questions trying to figure out what the hell is going on. Everytime he tried to answer I heard what sounded like scratching and banging on the bathroom door. He whispered “There is a demon in my sister’s body, it has been battling me for days. It got free from the chains…” I swear what I heard next chilled me to the core. This unearthly voice began taunting my caller through the door. It didn’t sound like a 20-something woman. It was low and guttural, like she had gargled razor blades before speaking. She continued to growl and speak in a strange sounding language until police arrived. She let out a terrifying scream when the officers broke in, then dead end.

The call was over, I was shaking and had to know what happened? Even my supervisor (who had been listening to the call in real time) was pale and speechless when the line abruptly ended. Before my shift ended the commanding officer on my creepy call called in to tell me what they found. He told me he would have nightmares for the rest of his life.

Apparently, when my caller said his sister got out of her chains, he wasn’t joking around. She still had a chain tied to a bloody handcuff when the officers came in. Her whole body was covered in self-inflicted scratches, her one eye had popped a blood vessel and was bright red. Most of what she was wearing was also shredded and her skin looked like she had been drained of her blood. She was taken in for a psych consult and as you probably guessed, stayed there for a long time. The brother was okay except for deep gouges in his chest. His sister literally tried to dig out his heart.

There was some talk about arresting the brother but nothing ever came of it. I still can vividly remember that voice, it still makes my blood run cold.

10. BREAK IN AT THE MORGUE

A friend’s father is a police officer in one of the larger villages of Illinois. He and his partner were working night-shift when they were called to investigate a suspected break-in at the local morgue. They arrived to find the custodian waiting for them out front. The custodian said that he’d been mopping one of the corridors and had seen something move in his peripheral vision. He looked up and saw a person quickly cross from one side of the hallway to the other. He couldn’t tell much about the person as he’d been turning the lights off as he worked his way through the building. Just a dim outline, but enough to be sure of what he’d seen. He was unarmed, so called the police and stepped outside to wait.

My friend’s dad and his partner entered the morgue. They started off by calling out to anyone who might be inside (no answer), then began to do a sweep, walking down the central corridor with hands on their guns, checking each room to the side, occasionally calling out for any intruder to show themselves. My friend’s dad came upon a room with the light off, pitch black inside. He fumbled for the switch and flicked it. The room lit up, nothing but an empty waiting room for relatives of the dead.

He heard his partner call out “Hey, stop! Turn around!” Friend’s dad swung back out into the corridor and his partner had unholstered his gun, was pointing it at the end of the long corridor. He said: “She went around that corner.” The custodian said: “She’s trapped, no exits that way.”

They had the custodian lock himself in the waiting room for safety, then advanced down the corridor, calling out to the woman to show herself, that they wouldn’t hurt her. This time my friend’s dad reached the end first, and with his back to the wall, peered around the corner. The woman was standing by a big grey door. Lights were off here too, so it was hard to see her clearly. But he could see she wasn’t holding a gun, had long, fair hair. He stepped out from behind the corner to talk to her, but she opened the door, disappeared into the dark inside, and shut it firmly behind her.

He sprinted up to the door and pulled at the handle. Locked. Banged on it for a while and called out to her, but no answer. The door had a deadlock on it, so his partner brought over the custodian to unlock it. They turned on their flashlights to see better. The custodian rounded the corner and faltered a little. “This door? You sure? This door doesn’t lock from the inside.”

The custodian found the right key and carefully turned it in the lock. Click. “We’re coming in! Have your hands up!”

They entered the room, flashlights illuminating every corner. The custodian hit the light switch and the room lit up. It was empty except for some equipment against the wall, and two gurneys in the middle of the room. One was empty, and one was covered in a sheet with what appeared to be a body underneath it. Nice hiding spot.

My friend’s dad approached and it was the smell that first spooked him. It smelled like a corpse. He pulled the sheet down and there the woman lay, straggly light-brown hair all around her face. The tag on her toe said she’d died four days ago.

Friend’s father is a devout Christian, does not believe in ghosts or the supernatural (even now), doesn’t know what to make of this event.

[distinctlywhumpthing]

Together 6: Inferno.

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CW: explicit language and content, multiple whumpees, torture, captivity, conditioning, noncon touching (non-sexual), implied noncon (sexual), dehumanization, electrocution, shock collar, beating, gaslighting, manipulation, restraints, extreme control of food/exercise for appearance, mention of passing out/vomiting due to exercise/restricted diet, controlling whumper, multiple whumpers, possessive whumper, masked whumper, letmeknowifimissedany

The next day, I wake up before August. He’s starfished on his back, feet, and one hand hanging off the bed. He looks even younger asleep, with freckles scattered across his nose, long eyelashes, and not much facial hair for a man who hasn’t had the chance to shave in a handful of days. The stubble that is there is even lighter than his hair, tending toward blondish rather than auburn. He sits up ramrod straight and groggy as hell when the keyring clangs against the outside of the metal door.

“Let’s go, Princess,” one of the goonies drones as he opens it. It’s Darius, but for some reason, he’s wearing a ski mask.

Weirdo. Did you just come from robbing a bank?

Maybe the mask means they’re planning to let August go, a good thing. I wouldn’t wish this life on anyone, but I still feel a bitter pang of jealousy. I don’t look back at him as I walk out.

Wyatt is waiting for me in his office, upstairs. He’s already cleared his desk for me. There are gauzy curtains in front of the windows so I can’t see the view but I always look forward to the daylight. Today, it’s muted like it might be overcast or raining. I strain to listen to see if I can hear it on the windows.

“Come here,” he says, standing and patting the desk in front of him.

I walk over, trying to read into his expression and tone. It’s never easy to tell what I’m in for because he’s so calculating. I don’t think I’ve ever once seen him lose control of himself in all these years. I sit up on the desk. He steps in between my knees so we’re eye-to-eye, tucks my hair behind both ears, and puts his hands on my thighs. Close enough that he can inhale every minute expression on my face and in my eyes like I’m shotgunning him.

“How do you like your new roommate?” he asks.

I’d shrug if it were allowed. There’s a remote to the collar in the pocket of his blazer. Instead, I just blink at him. Does it matter? Either way, he won’t be around very long.

Wyatt nods like I really did just answer him. “He made some poor choices last night. You were perfect, putting up with all of that.” He lifts his hand to the side of my neck, thumbing the collar through my shirt. “A little healthy fear will set him straight. I bought a new belt just for the occasion.”

Christ. I work to keep my face neutral.

Beatings have never been his M.O. with me. Except to make sure the silence was deep enough that not a damn thing earthside would illicit a fucking peep out of me, but he made it a point not to leave scars. He wants my body as perfect as my behavior. Otherwise, it’s all about the mind for this lunatic. Patient enough to find the trigger that will have me agreeing all on my own. He feels powerful, and I guess he is, for knowing just how to frame things, pinpointing what I want and need, even if I don’t realize.

“When it turned out he’d be staying longer than intended, I knew I couldn’t let the opportunity pass. He’s just too perfect,” Wyatt purrs.

What the fuck does that mean?

Wyatt stays silent and goes on reading my face while my thoughts snowball.

Shit. Why are you smiling at me like that?

Finally, he seems to have his fill of my reactions and squeezes my thigh. “It’s been quite a while since you took that many shocks, Emmy, and I can’t have you being stiff later,” he tells me, then pulls a tablet out of the desk drawer. “Do a yin yoga class—you haven’t eaten enough for anything else.”

I dip my head once in a nod.

He runs his thumb along my jaw before moving so I can hop off the desk.

The yoga is part of a whole distorted regimen. Wyatt wants my skeletal frame toned and flexible. “Not just skin and bones,” he says, but then goes on feeding me one meal a day. There’s no way he doesn’t calorie count the shit out of everything that passes my lips to elicit what he wants but it’s never enough to truly exercise on. He’s had me try other things but I’d just pass out or throw up and he wasn’t willing to adjust the input to equal the output. I love the yoga anyway.

The clothes he has me wear are skin tight and all black because boy does he love to watch me move. “You’re so graceful,” he’ll croon, admiring his maintenance of my figure. In the beginning, I wasn’t flexible enough for his liking, so he’d push me in the stretches until I thought my muscles would snap. Sometimes he’ll have some look-the-other-way woman come in and wax every surface below my neck so that in a black yoga bra and practically-underwear shorts, I shine. Then, he’ll have me to do all sorts of other things.

—

When I finish the video, an hour long, he waves me back over. He’s been watching me the whole time, a serene look on his face. He has me sit in front of him on the desk again. Prefers me up here, all within reach and eye-level. Carlos brings in our lunch in paper bags. It’s an endless rotation of delivery and takeout here. I can’t say I’ve ever seen a kitchen. Wyatt passes me a compostable bowl with a plastic lid. He knows this is one of my favorites.

I narrow my eyes.

The shit-eating grin comes back.

I don’t turn down the food though, despite the twisting in my stomach. Hunger strikes result in having a tube shoved down my throat. After all, my body is his wonderland. He eats a burrito, reclined in the chair with his feet on the desk next to me. Sips Coke out of a glass bottle and passes it to me. Purses his lips while he watches me hold it by the neck and take a swig before I hand it back. It fizzes down my throat sweetly.

Fuck, what is he planning?

It’s not strange to eat together or share a drink, but there’s something in his eyes today. An extra sparkle of anticipation. Last time he was like this, I wound up hanging from the ceiling for half a day. Contorted by silk rope knots into a goddamn living chandelier. The goonies had express permission to carry me after that one on account of my limbs turning to pins-and-needles jello.

After I finish eating, he tells me to find a book to pass the time. “I won’t have you getting sick later,” he says, pulling his phone out, dismissing me.

I move my ass before he moves it for me even though my sense of dread is deepening. I’ve made a fair dent in his library by now. Naturally, being a psychopath, Wyatt is well-read and intelligent. Lots of philosophy, social theory, plenty of psychology (but I feel like those must be a trap so I avoid them), books in other languages, and classic literature. I find it a little one-sandwich-short-of-a-picnic-basket that he wants his effectively-mute captive to also be well-read but it’s beyond me to try to understand his depraved logic.

—

When he’s decided it’s time, he stands and walks over to where I’m curled up in the armchair by the bookcase. “Let’s get you ready,” he says, holding out his hand and leading me over to his desk.

My pulse hammers in my throat.

He picks up a crisp sopping bag, pulls out folded black clothes. I usually change after I shower but it’s always a roll of the dice with Wyatt, especially in this kind of mood. I’m surprised when he starts putting the clothes on over what I’m already wearing. It’s baggy sweatpants and a hoodie—also black—and then some sneakers. I can’t remember the last time I wore shoes. Next, he pulls a little case out of the bag and opens it to reveal earbuds.

Oh, hell. Not again.

We’ve done this before. He took me out to some fluorescent superstore, spread his goonies around on video calls to record me, and sat in the fast-food restaurant with his laptop. Read me a shopping list and watched me sweat through it. I nearly had a conniption at the register. It was one of three times he’s ever taken me out.

Wyatt smirks at the misgivings playing across my face and passes me an elastic for my hair. I pull it all into a low, tight bun and then he uses first-aid tape to secure the headphone inside my ear. I’d never dream of removing it myself, and he knows that, so whatever is about to happen to me puts it at risk of falling out. I haven’t felt this scared in a while and it’s making him smile even more.

I know being hopeless but no longer frightened provides an irresistible challenge. It’s not like I can help being resigned to his life for me, exactly as he intended. He doesn’t want me shitting-my-pants-afraid. It’s not about that. He could have made me vacant, and not just silent if he’d wanted but there’s a thrilling risk to pushing me. My psyche is his game of Jenga and he never loses. He knows how to manipulate, balance, and finesse every piece so that I’ll only ever wobble, dangerously close to collapse but always just shy, leaving him infinitely validated. So, I know he’d never put me in a position to truly break but I still fear the magnitude of the wobble. And the duration.

Wyatt has handed me gloves and is now holding up the last item from the bag. A clown mask.

Oh, god. Are we actually robbing someplace?

If I weren’t wearing so many clothes, I would be convinced I was in for some twisted, kinky shit, especially with these gloves. He ties the mask securely behind my head and I’m already sweating under the foamy rubber just imagining silently holding someone up. With a loaded weapon in my hand.

Fuck, Wyatt. Seriously?

He traces his fingers down my arms, pulling up my hands and helping me off the desk. Holding my arms out and looking me over like he’s seeing his prom date’s outfit for the first time and just knows that he’ll get to take it all off later. He drops my hands and pulls the hood of the sweatshirt over my head.

“Perfect,” he purrs and leads me down the hallway toward a door I haven’t entered in a very long time. I’m wearing too many clothes for what that room is usually used for. I hope.

Wyatt moves in front of me and pulls me close so our noses almost touch, lowers his voice in a way that is far from soothing. “If I’m not happy, with any aspect of your performance, I will personally tenfold it. Understood?” He searches my eyes one at a time. Left to right and back again.

I nod, stomach already somewhere by my feet.

He leaves me in the little hall, alone. There’s a yellow light bulb underneath a metal cage on the wall.

Sonofabitch. I’m terrified.

Naturally, I don’t move until Wyatt's voice comes over the headphone in my ear. “Go in. Close the door behind you.”

Calm down, Emma, you just have to survive this one thing right now. How bad can it be?

I take a deep breath and open the door, step in, and close it softly behind me, not sure what is waiting for me since it’s dark. My eyes don’t have time to adjust before the lights flick on.

All my blood runs cold. This is undeniably the ninth circle of Hell.

Wyatt lets me stand there, frozen, and unable to pull air into my lungs, for more than a few of my stuttering heartbeats before he finally gives me my next command,

“Emma, pick up the belt.”

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Taglist: @deluxewhump

[fluffykitty1999-blog]

Dog of the Military- Chapter 15

Chapter 15- Morning Courtmartial

And as usual... the ko-fi link, if you like the trash I, a human dumpster fire, product https://ko-fi.com/fluffykitty12

Roy Mustang showed up outside the dorms at 8:30am sharp. It was 8:37 when Edward came racing down the stairs, in his military blues with a large suit of armor clanking hurriedly behind him.

Ed fairly dove into the passenger seat, with Alphonse squeezing into the entirety of the backseat, and Ed turned to look at Mustang like he was possessed. "Drive!"

"Put your seat belt on." Roy said, giving him a look.

Ed frantically did so, and Roy was heading over to central command.

"Shit are we gonna be late? I couldn't find a hair tie that wasn't red I didn't know what the military regulations were so I transmuted it black." Ed's hair wasn't in its trademark braid- rather, it was in a high ponytail behind him. His uniform was a little rumpled, and his collar was a mess, but these were all things that could be fixed.

"Calm down. We're not going to be late, but we won't be able to stop and grab breakfast like I planned either, so you'll have to hold out til lunch." Roy remarked.

Ed nodded, seeming to calm down slightly at this.

"Are you doing okay?" Roy shot his youngest subordinate a look.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Ed said, nodding. Though there wasn't too much belief behind the statement.

"I'm going to be so nervous, waiting upstairs in the office to hear what's going on." Al piped up from the back.

"Try not to worry too much, Alphonse- the team will be watching the proceedings, and they'll come upstairs periodically under the guise of a break to update you."

"Alright." Alphonse seemed to settle for the moment. Edward's leg kept bouncing nervously, and they pulled up outside central command at ten minutes to nine. They parted ways, with Alphonse heading upstairs and Roy and Ed heading towards the courtroom, deeper on the first floor of Central command.

The hallways were busy with people in all sorts of military blues- Ed's eyes widened as he saw everyone assembled. Roy placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, steering him into the men's room just outside the courtroom.

"Do you have to go?" he asked, giving the boy a once-over.

Ed shook his head. "No. Why are we in here, anyways?"

"Because you were getting overwhelmed and I need to touch up your uniform." Roy said calmly. He started with the boy's long military jacket, smoothing out the wrinkles and straightening the boy's rank pins. He moved up to Ed's collar next, folding it down properly, before looking at Ed's hair- he wet his hands in the sink and smoothed down Ed's trademark blond antenna, before nodding and standing up straight. "Much better. You look like quite the solider, Fullmetal."

"Yeah. Now if only I could feel like one. Brigadier General Basque Grand was out there." Ed muttered to himself, looking down at his boots.

"A lot of high profile people are here, Ed. This trial has ruffled some feathers, I'm not gonna lie. But how you carry yourself in there- how you think and behave- will affect how you're treated."

"They'll just look at me like a kid anyways."

"Stop it." Mustang hissed, using two fingers to tilt Edward's chin up so the boy was looking him in the eyes. "I know you're nervous, and you have a right to be, but self pity and doubt have no place here, Edward."

Roy reached down into Edward's pocked, putting out the boy's state alchemist watch and dangling it in front of him. "You are the Fullmetal Alchemist. I watched you put blood sweat and tears into earning this watch. You are a prodigy- you have seen atrocities and come back eager to live on anyways. You are a soldier under my command. I didn't give you this watch. You earned it. You could kick the asses of nearly everyone in that court room, save myself and a few others, without a problem. So you act like it- you look them in the eyes and you tell them everything. I need you to trust me, Edward- if you testify to the best of your abilities, he'll be found guilty. I promise."

Ed looked up at him- eyes that were swimming with uncertainty becoming hard with determination and purpose. The fire was burning bright again, and Ed pursed his lips and nodded. "Alright."

"Don't forget- you're the Fullmetal Alchemist, Hero of the People. Make them remember that."

"I will."

They both turned, exiting the restroom and striding into the courtroom, down the aisles and to their side of the benches. Their court appointed lawyer, Marissa Jennings, was a pretty woman in military blues with dark hair and brown eyes- she nodded to Mustang as they found their seats behind their table. Ed hadn't met the woman, but Roy had had countless meeting with her over the past two weeks to prepare, and he was very familiar with her.

On the other side of the courtroom, behind the small table sat Colonel Banks and Lieutenant Shaw, and the defendant's lawyer, an older, be speckled man in his sixties eith salt and pepper hair and a gray goatee.

Before both tables was the Judge's desk on an elevated platform, and to the left was the bleachers for the jury- a group of about twelve. Behind the tables where the prosecuting and defending parties sat, there was a small wooden railing and benches for spectators to watch.

Roy noted Basque Grand sitting behind Colonel Bank's side of the courtroom, as well as a smattering of unfamiliar soldiers. Banks had clearly brought his men as well.

But it was no match for Ed's side of the courtroom. Havoc, Breda, Falman, Furey, Hawkeye, Scheska, Hughes, Armstrong, and several of the receptionists that Ed would help by fixing broken vases and flower pots all sat at the ready. The proceedings were about to being.

The door to the courtroom flew open, and Roy nearly fell out of his chair. Scowling in the doorway, General Olivier Armstrong strode into the room,her sidearm and sword at her side, with Miles beside her, his sunglasses present as always.

She stalked into the room, and it nearly fell silent, before flopping to sit beside her brother, who sat in support of Edward, exhaling harshly through her nose.

"Olivier- so glad you could make it! You hardly ever respond to my letters." Armstrong had started to sparkle.

Olivier scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself. I came here because I was pissed, not because of that sappy letter. This whole torture fiasco happened at Goldenfield- the North is my territory, and when bullshit happens I like to see who's held accountable." She brushed her bangs from her face. Though Roy didn't miss the way she craned her neck to get a look at Edward.

Who knew- perhaps General Armstrong actually cared?

"All rise- the honorable judge Mason Freeman presiding." the baliff barked. The sound of chairs scraping as everyone in the room hurried to stand was the only sound.

The judge- a rather wise looking man in his sixties- strode to his desk with ease, before he was sitting down. "Good morning. At ease, everyone. Let it be noted on the record today the case of Flame vs Banks has begun."

Everyone sat down, and the judge nodded toward Ed's bench.

"We will begin with the charges brought against the accused. Colonel Roger Banks, you have been accused of the unlawful imprisonment and torture of a state alchemist, Major Edward Elric. How does the accused plead?"

"Not guilty, Sir."

The judge nodded. "Very well. We will hear your arguments shortly. For now, let us proceed with the incident reports received, beginning with the mission report from the Fullmetal Alchemist himself. Jennings?"

The woman representing Ed stood up, shuffling papers. "Of course, your honor. On the fifth of September, Major Edward Elric received orders to head north and conduct a covert mission for the Amestrian military. He returned on the morning of September ninth, as planned, but rather than being allowed to return to Central city and report to his commanding officer, the boy was detained, restrained, beaten, and abused. The medical records show Edward received six cigarette burns to the lower left abdomen, a broken rib, a 3 inch laceration on his left bicep requiring 17 stitches, 3 lacerations on his back, from a knife, one of which required an additional twelve stitches to close, a black eye, and severe contusions to the chest. His mistreatment lasted for a day and a half, at which point his superior arrived, discovered the Major's condition, and got the boy medical help. I will now read, verbatim, the mission reports submitted to the court by Edward Elric and Roy Mustang, followed by the Doctor's report regarding Ed's injuries."

The first hour of the court session was the lawyer reading Ed's mission report, then Mustangs, and continuing on with the doctor's report. Ed was rather relieved that he could just sit and listen. It was clear the woman representing them was more comfortable in a courtroom than he was.

"This concludes my report of evidence from the prosecution, your honor." the woman finished.

The judge nodded. "And does the defendant have any evidence which they wish to present?"

The elder lawyer stood. "Yes, Sir. I am presenting the reports of Colonel Roger Banks and Lieutenant Shaw, verbatim."

"The secret mission Edward Elric was sent on was of immense importance for national security. Following our rendezvous, Edward expressed his interest in returning to Central city as soon as possible. I agreed this was the best course of action, but as the boy's superior, righteously demanded that he give his report and findings to me before leaving. Fullmetal adamantly refused, and when repeatedly prompted, answered with blatant disrespect. Had it been a matter of lesser importance, I would've written the boy up and let him go. But due to the immensely sensitive information the boy had, I felt I could not let him leave without reporting to me. It wasn't in the best interests of the nation."

"Following his staunch refusal and obstinence, I disciplined the boy physically, and continued to do so. I am not a man without conscience, but I had to put the good of the nation over the good of one unruly boy. I was nearly to the point of extracting the information when the boy's commanding officer- who identified himself as the Flame Alchemist- trespassed in my office and intimidated my Lieutenant into taking him to see the boy."

"When I attempted to confront the man for his intrusion into my office and blatant disregard for my command, I was brutally assaulted, receiving first degree burns on my hand, and my life threatened if I refused to leave. By the time I felt it prudent to return, the Flame Alchemist and the Fullmetal Alchemist were gone."

Roy frowned at the report.

The lawyer paused, clearing his throat. "Now- onto the incident report of Lieutenant Margaret Shaw, dated October twentieth-"

Roy's hand touched the table the defense lawyer had her paper's spread out, and he shifted in his seat to sit forward a little.

"Objection!" The lawyer was cut off by their lawyer, and everyone looked over at him, even the judge.

"What is the nature of this objection, Jennings?"

"Mr. Elric was reported to have been scheduled to return from his mission on the ninth of October. His commanding officer retrieved him on the afternoon of the tenth of october. The fact that this report was filed so late is likely due to the fact that Lieutenant Shaw wouldn't have filed a report about the imprisonment and abuse of power at all, had it not been for her commanding officer receiving a summons for court martial a few days earlier and covering her tracks."

"This is all speculation, your honor." the elderly defense lawyer protested, moving his glasses further up his nose.

"Jennings, you may continue, but keep it short." the judge advised, looking interested.

"I'd like to know the date Colonel Banks filed his incident report." Jennings asked.

The defense lawyer shuffled his papers. "October nineteenth was the date Colonel Banks filed his report."

"Interesting. So this alleged abuse of power occurs from the ninth to tenth of October, Colonel Banks is assaulted so viciously by the Flame alchemist in the line of duty, and yet despite all of this, he waits nine days to file a report. And his subordinate, who also witnessed such abuse, files her report one day after. Despite the fact that officers are required to file reports of incidents within forty eight hours. It almost seems as though the defendants were scrambling and after receiving their court summons, sat down and put their story together to avoid any gaps and inconsistencies, and then submitted them a day apart."

"My report is my own, Ma'am. While it is true that Colonel Banks and I discussed the matter after receiving our summons, my report was filed directly to central- Colonel Banks never read it." Lieutenant Shaw spoke up.

"I can attest to this, as I notarized the document." the lawyer agreed.

"I see. Still, the timing is awfully convenient. That's all I have to say on the matter, your honor."

The judge nodded. "The defense may continue."

Lieutenant Shaw's report was read verbatim, as well. It didn't contain the blatant falsehoods Colonel Banks had- rather, Shaw had chosen to stick to facts.

"At approximately 9am Edward Elric returned to our fort and expressed a desire to go home after completing his mission. He proceeded to another room with Colonel Banks and I didn't see him afterwards. At approximately 10am, I received a call from the boy's commanding officer, inquiring if Edward had returned as planned. I confirmed that Edward Elric had indeed returned and that he intended to get a train out of central soon."

"In the afternoon, at approximately 1pm, Colonel Banks was stepping out for lunch. I still had not seen Major Elric and inquired if he'd purchased his train ticket home yet, as he seemed eager to do in the morning. Colonel Banks said the boy was resting upstairs before he left, tired from his mission. I noticed the Colonel carrying Elric's black coat and inquired why- he told me he was going to get it cleaned for the boy so he could travel home in comfort."

"At the end of the day, I still had not seen Edward. I stepped into the Colonel's office to say goodnight to my commanding officer, and found him sititng at his desk. On his desk, was Elric's coat, cut into scraps. I asked the Colonel if Edward had left yet. Colonel Banks confirmed my suspicions that Edward was still in the building, but said it was a matter of national security that he get the information from the boy. I was in no position to argue with my superior, so I quietly left. On a hunch, I went downstairs to the cells where unruly citizens are kept and found Major Elric hung from the wall by his wrists, dirty and in some degree of pain. He looked up at me and asked if I was there to burn him as well. I asked him how I could help- he asked me for water. I brought him a mug of it and gave it to him quickly before leaving for the night. I trusted my commanding officer to handle the issue."

"Colonel Banks instructed me to have all questions about the Fullmetal Alchemist's condition forwarded to him. I followed these orders, forwarding the phone inquiry of the Flame Alchemist to Colonel Banks early in the morning. That afternoon, however, when the Flame Alchemist arrived, he was quite agitated, and I thought it prudent to show him to Elric immediately to avoid further conflict. Colonel Banks went to speak to the man and returned with a burned hand a destroyed firearm. After I treated my commanding officer for his injuries, I took the suitcase Elric had left in our fort in the room he'd stayed in previously and dropped it off at the local inn on the hunch they were staying there."

Colonel Banks looked over at Margaret, a bit of disapproval behind his eyes, but not much of it.

"Your honor." Jennings, dark haired and bold as always, spoke up. "I would like to ask Lieutenant Shaw a few more questions."

"In due time, Jennings." the judge frowned, squinting at the courtroom clock. "It's nearly noon. I declare a half hour recess, and then we will reconvene for cross-examination of the involved parties. Adjourned." the judge slammed his gavel down, and the courtroom broke into a flurry of activity as everyone rose to grab lunch.

Team Mustang normally would've gathered in the cafeteria, but since Alphonse was stuck upstairs in the office, they elected to grab food and eat with him. Plus, seeing Ed was likely to ease his mind.

Ed grabbed a ham sandwich as they hurried upstairs.

"Nice job Chief!" Havoc clapped a hand on his shoulder as he sat on Mustang's couch and started to eat. "I don't think I've ever seen you sit still for that long before!"

Ed had to fight the blush creeping up his cheeks.

"How was it, brother? Are you alright?" Al asked.

Ed took a bite of his sandwich. "I'm fine. I didn't have to do much of anything, it was mostly lawyers reading reports and making statements."

"Still, you seem to be making quite the case. The lawyer representing you- Jennings- is on her game." Hawkeye spoke up.

"Yes, she certainly is." Roy conceded. Probably because he'd spent over six hours with her going over the particulars of the case this past week. But still, she was tenacious and on the ball, and Roy liked her.

The door to the office burst open, and Hughes came running in. "Ed! You did great out there! Were you nervous?"

"A little." Ed took another bite of his sandwich and chewed.

"Right." the light reflected off Hughes glasses, showing his seriousness, as he stepped forward. "Well, this afternoon they're going to do the cross examinations. So you'll have to go up on the witness stand and answer questions about your report. Everyone will be watching. So you're going to need to have nerves of steel and think on your feet. They'll do anything they can to make you slip up."

"R-right." Ed was looking nervous.

"I figured you'd be stressed, so I brought some pictures of my darling Elicia to help calm your nerves!" Roy was right back to his fawning father self, pulling out a rather large stack of photos. "Here she is in her footie pajamas, and here she is with her new teddy bear..."

Hawkeye exchanged glances with Roy. They let Hughes ramble on for a few more minutes before Hawkeye was shooing him out of the office.

"You should finish that sandwich up- we have to head back down soon." Roy nodded to Ed, looking at the clock.

"I'm done." Ed said simply, setting down the half-eaten sandwich and standing. Ed hardly ate anything- that meant he was nervous.

Roy placed a hand on his shoulder as they ducked out of the office and headed back towards the courtroom. No matter what was to come in cross examinations- he'd do his best to protect Ed.

[missymurphy1985]

The Revenge

Cillian and y/n had been together for 5 years, only these last few months he'd become seriously complacent and distant. Time for a wake up call.

Warnings - smut. This was a request from @being-worthy , I hope you like it!!

7pm. 7:15pm. 7:30pm. You kept glancing at your watch, the waiter bringing you another glass of wine as you sat, positively seething at the table. The third date night in a row he'd missed, and this was made you especially mad. Your anniversary meal. 5 years to the day since he asked you to be with him, properly be with him, after 2 months of being fuck buddies on the set of Peaky Blinders. You'd bagged the job of being his umbrella girl, so spent most of your time with him, and one thing had led to another after he'd invited you in for a game of cards and a bottle of Jameson's. Strip poker became your new favourite game.

You downed the wine, paid the bill and called a taxi back to your shared apartment. Walking in, he was nowhere to be found. Locking the door, seeing his keys still on the table in the hallway, you turned your phone off and went to bed.

"Sleep on the fucking porch, dickhead."

Waking up the following morning and turning on you phone to 17 missed calls and 7 voicemails, she smiled. Deleting all of them, she slipped one of his shirts on, and made her way downstairs to hear the front door being pounded. Smiling, you opened it to see Cillian stood there with a look of pure rage.

"Morning baby, have a good evening?" You opened it allowing him to enter.

"Where the fuck were you?? I've just spent the night sleeping in the fucking car y/n, why was your phone turned off?" He barged his way in, pushing past you to get to the toilet, his bladder screaming from inside him.

"Sleeping. Battery must have died. Shouldn't have left your house keys, should you?"

"Fucks sake... I'm going to bed." He stalked upstairs, not looking at you and went to bed. Now, you were really angry.

When he came back down a couple of hours later, he was still mad at you. Wouldn't say two words to you as you sat in the living room watching TV, coffee in hand. Into the kitchen he sulked, slamming cupboard doors to make his frustration clear to you. You just smiled.

You were showered now, but still wearing his shirt, buttons done low, exposing your cleavage, with no underwater underneath. You were determined now, plan in action, he was going to suffer for this. Walking into the kitchen, you opened the fridge to get some orange juice, bending completely Dr the waist, exposing your bare backside under the shirt. You felt his eyes on you, watching you, and inwardly grinned, though he couldn't see as your hips swayed slightly as you bent further to grab the juice at the bottom of the fridge. Standing back up, you turned to face him, shirt hanging off your shoulder now exposing almost down to your bare nipple, you straightened your body to drink from the carton, then bent again to place it back in the fridge. His eyes didn't leave your body once as he sat at the breakfast bar with a slice of toast.

"You mad at me, y/n?"

"Hmm? Why would I be made at you, now Cillian?" You smiled sweetly, noticing a small drop of juice on your finger, you licked it as seductively as possible, winked and left the room. Now he was confused... And hard. You smiled, knowing exactly what effect you'd had on him and went upstairs to get ready.

"I'm meeting Orla for lunch, I'll be back by 4." You called from the stairs.

"Tell my sister I said hello, yeah?"

"Maybe." You went upstairs to get dressed, within 20minutes you were out the door.

The following morning, you woke to find Cillian in his office downstairs on his laptop. You'd avoided him most of the previous evening, making him sleep in the guest bedroom. Sure to keep him out of the bedroom you shared, you'd locked your door.

Perking your nipples slightly to harden them, you stood at his office door.

"Hey... Um..." He glanced at you at the door and had to swallow a gasp. You winked at him, before making your way back upstairs. You heard him growl slightly, close his laptop and follow you. Sadly for him, you made your way into the bathroom, and locked the door. Bath time.

Sinking your body under the water, you could hear Cillian moving around upstairs, just outside the bathroom door.

"Y/n will you tell me what it is I'm supposed to have done wrong?" He paused outside the door knocking lightly.

"Mmm.... God this bath feels nice... Warm water on my skin... Fuck I needed this..." You moaned as seductively as possible, keeping your voice just loud enough so he could hear you.

"Y/n open the door... I can make that bath even better..." His voice deepened. This was working like a dream.

"Mm.... Don't you have another appointment with your agent Cillian?" He knew he was in trouble. You never called him by his full name, it was 'Cill', 'babe', but only Cillian when he'd pissed you off. Which he'd clearly done, but had no clue as to how.

Over the course of the following fortnight, you'd kept Cillian at bay, he was still sleeping in the guest room, your bedroom door remained locked overnight (he'd tried, you'd heard him, it was fucking hysterical) while you continued to seduce and tease him mercilessly. Orla had called to say he'd even tried calling her to find out what he'd done, but good as gold, she told him she had no idea what he was talking about.

Cillian had had enough at this point. He'd even tried getting himself off at night but he couldn't do it - his hands just weren't as good as yours, it wasn't the same. He genuinely thought his balls were going to explode, the tension inside him was driving him insane. He called his sister Orla again when you went out to do the food shop, desperate this time.

"Orla I need your help please, I'm your brother... Please? Surely she's told you what it is I'm supposed to have done wrong? All I did was go out with Adam for one night and she's barely spoken to me and hasn't TOUCHED me since!"

"Woah now, that's waaaay to much info for your sister to be hearing now!" She laughed at the other end of the phone, rolling her eyes. Y/n had done very well to keep this up for two whole weeks.. maybe it was time for some sisterly advice for her older brother.

"Cillian when did you go out? What date?"

"Few days after my birthday, so the 30th May I think, why?"

"No, it wasn't the 30th. Think again. Check your dates." He put his phone on loudspeaker and checked his calendar. Then it dawned on him. Oh fuck... Oh shit... Shit shit shit!!

"The 27th.. oh fuck Orla it was the 27th.. and I'm looking at the fucking calender entry for our date night saved as a fucking DRAFT!! I didn't set it properly... Oh fuck Orla I'm a dead man, how's she not killed me?"

"I think in a way she has Cillian!! You've got some serious making up to do - not like the first time it's happened now is it?" He groaned... This would be the hat trick. Three date nights missed because he couldn't work the fucking calendar app on his new phone properly.. but that excuse wasn't going to wash now, he'd had plenty of opportunity to sort his sorry ass out. And to miss their anniversary dinner? No. He'd make this right. He thanked his sister, ended the call and opened a different app on his phone. Operation Clemency was in motion.

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

You left your friends house on Friday afternoon to see Cillian's car parked outside. You could see bags on the back seat, him standing by the open passenger side door waiting for you.

"What are you doing Cillian?"

"Surprising my girlfriend. Listen y/n, I've been a fucking idiot okay? Missing our anniversary date, after missing two before that.. neglecting you, neglecting US... Let me make it up to you, yeah?" You couldn't help but smile, nodding your head you took his hand as he led you into the passenger seat, closing the door behind you.

All the way there you stole glances at one another, Cillian refusing to tell you exactly where you were going. You couldn't help the feeling of excitement - never in 5 years had he done anything like this, you'd have to make a habit of punishing him if this was the outcome..

Pulling up outside a large manor house an hour later, you gasped in shock.

"Shit.. Cill this is beautiful!"

"It's ours." You nearly had whiplash from the sudden head turn in his direction. "I bought it last month, I was waiting until your birthday next week to surprise you, but now seemed like a much better option. Welcome to our new holiday home baby." You couldn't help the tears forming in your eyes.

"Oh my god... But how? When? I don't understand!"

"All those appointments with my agent? Didn't you wonder why I wasn't getting any work from it all? I was at the bank sorting the mortgage for this place! Picked the keys up yesterday, it's fully furnished and ready for us. I figured we could spend the Summers here. Beach is less than a 5 minute walk away, the boys will love it." You were stunned. Well and truly stunned.

Leaving the car, you walked to the front door, Cillian handing you the keys. You opened it and walked inside into the most beautiful setting - it was newly decorated exactly to your liking. It was perfect. You turned to face him.

"You know, I might just forgive you after all..."

"Nope. Not yet. I'm not done." He smirked. "I want you to go upstairs - our room is second on the left. Lay down on the bed and I'll be up in 15 minutes." Raising an eyebrow, you complied, walking up the stairs eagerly anticipating what he had planned. "Fully clothed y/n... Don't remove a damn thing."

You walked in to find a large double bed with fresh sheets, covered in rose petals. Candles lined most of the hard surfaces in the room. It brought a lump to your throat. A fresh bouquet of flowers on the chest of drawers under the window, with a small envelope under them, your name written in Cillians hand writing. You opened it to find a two tickets to the new Enda Walsh play showing at the Gaiety later that week - it was sold out and you remembered telling him you were disappointed to miss it, but when you're Cillian Murphy, sold out meant nothing.

Hearing him coming up the stairs you quickly lay down on top of dozens of rose petals on the bed. He walked in slowly, casting an eye over your body. This would be the hardest thing to do now, trying to control himself, but he was determined to make this last as long as possible. Moving to the old record player in the corner of the room, he turned it on, allowing the gentle sounds of the music to fill the room softly. Making his way over to you, he kneeled on the bed, eyes never leaving yours.

"You're not to move unless I tell you to, okay? Just relax. Sit up." You sat up as he lifted your t shirt over your head, swiftly followed by your bra. Pushing you back down and turning you onto your front, he carefully sat himself across your legs, opening a small bottle of something you couldn't see. Suddenly his hands were on your back, smoothing the oil into your skin, putting pressure all over it. Closing your eyes, you relaxed into the massage as he skilfully eased away as many knots as he could find in your slender muscles.

"Fuck... Cill that feels amazing... Don't stop, please..." He bit his lip, he could feel his erection forming under his jeans and willed himself to have self control. Two weeks without touching you was a long time...

He moved his hands lower, teasing the waistband of your jeans as he moved his body down, pulling them over your hips, underwear following. Now you were completely bare, his hands now expertly rubbing hard circles over your thighs, your calves, then your feet. Your core was burning now, his touch, even after 5 years, doing things to your body you still couldn't believe we're possible. Your hips twitched slightly with the throbbing feeling you couldn't ignore deep in your groin. He could almost smell it, the need in you. Smiling, his hands moved back up your legs, dipping between your thighs and moving closer to where you desperately needed him. He grinned, and teased his fingers closer, then pulled them away. Back over your firm cheeks, up your spine slowly. You groaned, you were positively on fire now.

"Patience..." You bit your lip as he whispered in your ear. He turned you onto your back, now running his hands over your belly as he moved back to hover over your waist. Hands moving higher, he kneaded your breasts, knowing it would drive you crazy.

"Ahh... Fuck Cill... Baby please..." He chuckled, this was more fun than he anticipated, why had he never thought of this before?

Leaning down, he trailed a line of kisses long your exposed neck, your head flung back as he continued his assault on your breasts. Nipping the skin, sucking lightly, you arched against him. You felt close to an orgasm already and he hadn't even got to the good part yet. Your breath coming out in short bursts as his lips moved lower over your collarbone.

"Feel good baby? Feeling close huh? Keep those noises coming, fuck you're turning me on right now..." His voice was intoxicating, his hands roaming, now his lips, you couldn't stop the heat rising in your belly, that familiar knot forming, how was this even possible? You didn't care, and you couldn't stop it - you came hard, bucking your hips up to meet his as it overtook you.

"Fuck... Baby oh my god...." You came down from your high and looked into his eyes, now darker and desperate. He was trying so hard to control it but the control had gone. He hadn't expected you to cum from this alone, clearly he wasn't the only one who'd gone without these last 2 weeks.

"Take them off." He didn't argue. His clothes were removed quick as lightening as he opened your still quivering legs. He quickly pushed himself inside and stopped, just enjoying the feeling of your core swallowing him again.

"Jesus.. I swear you got tighter..." You raised your hands to his face and glared at him.

"Shut up, and fuck me Mr Murphy." With pleasure, he thought to himself, as he pounded into you hard and fast, both of you groaning into each others mouths as you kissed hungrily, desperate to get as physically close as possible. You rolled him onto his back, keeping him inside you, as you leaned back and rode him hard. You moved his hands to hold onto the bed frame behind him.

"You've touched me enough, it's my turn." Your hands roamed over your own breasts now, hips still rocking against his, your second orgasm fast approaching. You knew, after 2 weeks of abstinence, he wouldn't last long and you were right.

"Baby.. slow down.. I can't... Oh fuck... Ah... Feels too good..." He was raising his hips to meet yours, you felt your orgasm taking over.

"Cum baby... Need to feel you... Fill me up... Drown in me..." He couldn't hold back any longer and with a final, hard groan he came, filling you. His hands came to rest at your frozen hips, he felt your walls clench around him as you came alongside him, both of you breathing heavily as you came back down to earth from the most exquisite high either of you had ever had. Leaning your body back down to kiss his lips, you gave him one more squeeze of your walls, emitting a twitch and a gasp from him, before collapsing next to him.

"Fuck... My god Cill, I'm gonna have to punish you like this more often..."

"The fuck you are y/n, never again are we going more than 24 hours without sex, ever.. I don't care how mad you are at me.." you both laughed, curling up in each others arms, Cillian whispering how sorry he was in your ear, how much he loved you, as you gently fell asleep.

The following morning you woke to an empty bed, but you could smell coffee and breakfast being prepared downstairs. You made your way down wearing just his T shirt from the day before and found a full breakfast waiting for you. Sausages, eggs, bacon, toast, juice, croissants... All there on the countertop. A plate, cutlery and a coffee waiting for you.

"Just missing the pinny Mr Murphy..." You giggled as he turned and stuck his tongue out at you cheekily.

"Eat up and get dressed y/n, I'm taking you for a walk this morning." Smiling, you ate, and an hour later you were stood on the beautiful golden sands of the beach 5minutes from your new holiday home. Watching the waves crash, you were the happiest you'd felt in a long time. You heard Cillian behind you.

"Turn around, y/n." As you did, he took your hands in his and kissed your lips.

"If I have to spend every single day for the rest of my life saying how sorry I am, I will. If I have to spend every second making it up to you, I will. You have completed my life y/n.. after my divorce, I didn't think I'd ever be lucky enough to find love again. Then you came along and everything slotted into place. My boys adore you.. their Dad couldn't live without you.. y/n..." He sank down to the ground, reaching into his jeans pocket. Bringing a small, velvet box back up to you, your breath caught in your throat, tears already in your eyes.

"Make me the luckiest man in the world y/n.. marry me?" You fell to the floor alongside him, tears openly falling now as you cried, pulling him close, kissing him softly.

"Yes!! Oh my god a million times over, yes I'll marry you!!" You both grinned, standing now as he held out your left hand, slipping the simple, white gold band and diamond onto your finger. Nothing else mattering in that moment apart from the dreams you both shared of the amazing future you had ahead of you.

@queenshelby @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @being-worthy @margoo0 @cloudofdisney

[wiypt-writes]

Riding On

CH7- Home, Sweet Home

Summary: Frank and Fliss find their perfect family home, but there’s something bothering Mary.

Warnings: Bad Language words. Discussions about suicide. A little bit of angst.

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: This is a bit of an emotionally charged filler chapter…and we move time on a little through to June in the middle. And photos of the Adler house are included at the bottom so you can visualise what I used for inspiration.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 6

You’re giving it another try, staring at the deep blue sky, and you say to the driver just drive, coz you never felt so alive.

 April 2019

“Hey honey, you ok?” Frank juggled his phone, pinning it between his ear and his shoulder as he leaned over his computer in the office, scanning the database on the screen for a filter part they needed to order. 

“No, I mean yes! I’ve just heard some awesome news!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, so you remember the guy that bought the house that backs onto the yard when Old Man River died…” “That wasn’t his name.” Frank chuckled “It was Mr Morris.”

“He called himself River, it was funny and suited him. Anyway, that’s not the point. You know the guy who bought it…guess what I found out before?”

Frank stopped what he was doing and straightened up. He didn’t like that dick, one bit. When Mr Morris had died at the start of the year, Fliss had been quite upset about the news as the old man had been very friendly to her, often popping in for a cup of tea a few afternoons a week for some company. Mr Morris’ son had sold the house without them even knowing it had gone on the market, which was a shame as it would have been perfect for them given the location. The guy who had bought it, Frank didn’t even know his name, nor did he care because he was a dick and a pervert to boot. The way he looked at Fliss made Frank want to punch his face in.

“What’s Douchey Mc Douchebag done now?”

“You’re so childish.” she scoffed “Anyway, I was only commenting to Joanne last night that we haven’t seen him for like a month and she went home and mentioned it to her dad who works with some other guy in the property development business and the long and short of it is he’s gone bankrupt Frank!”

Frank laughed loudly “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy, babe!”

“I know right!” Fliss voice was gathering pace and pitch, the way it always did when she was excited. “So literally about half hour after she’s told me this, someone turns up and there’s a For Sale sign outside, the house is on the market!”

Ok now he was interested. Frank could picture the look of excitement on her face as she spoke to him and he felt the smile cross his face “No shit?”

“Yeah, I’ll send you the website to look at the photos but…oh God, it would be perfect! Some of it is really nice, some of it needs decorating but…”

“Ok, well, why don’t you call the realtor? Arrange a viewing” he said “Hopefully you won’t puke halfway round this one.”

“Ok, first off that wasn’t my fault. Bean objected to the smell. Who the fuck cooks eggs the day they know they have someone coming to view their house?” her indignant tone made Frank chuckle “And second off…”she paused “I already did. He said he can meet us at half 12.”

“Half 12? As in lunch time? Today?” Frank frowned.

“I know I just really don’t want to miss out on this one Frank, and you said you were gonna come up here for lunch and-”

“Ok, ok.” Frank sighed “I’ll shuffle some stuff around, work a little later tonight and take an extra half hour.”

“I love you.” she replied and he could hear the smile in her voice.

“Good job I love you too.” he said back gruffly “Because you’re a pain in my ass.”

He bid her goodbye and just as he was looking at the rota to make sure there were enough staff in to cope if he took a longer lunch, his phone beeped. He clicked through to the link Fliss had sent him and had a scan through the photos. To be fair the house didn’t look in too bad condition. It was deceptive from the outside, looked like a small farmhouse but they knew thanks to the extension Douchebag had put on the back it now formed an L shape and from the look of it, was pretty spacious. The kitchen was new, the main bathroom was new so the big work looked like it had been mostly done. The décor in some of the rooms was really old fashioned, especially the hallway you and the front reception room, but that was all cosmetic. What really grabbed him was the price. It was up for just over 320 thousand, which was a fucking steal considering the size, location, the garden and the garage/outhouse it came with.

“You ok Frank?”

He looked up and smiled as Alan, his boss walked in to the office. “Yeah, sorry, Fliss has found a house and managed to book a viewing for lunch time. Fucking 7th one in 2 weeks.”

Alan snorted “Keeping you on your toes I see?”

“Well I gotta say, this one’s looking pretty good. It’s the house that backs onto our Yard out in Pinellas Park.” Frank explained “It was sold not even 6 months ago to a developer and he’s apparently gone bankrupt so put it back on the market.”

“Huh.” Alan smiled “Sounds like it was meant to be. Take it you’re going then?”

“Yeah, Charlie and Gary are in all afternoon. I thought I could take an extra half hour, work it back tonight or…”

“Frank, when was the last time you actually took a full hour for your lunch and didn’t cut it short by 10 or 15?” Alan looked at him.

Frank hesitated “Yeah, but that’s-”

“No buts.” Alan shook his head. “Do what you gotta do.”

“Thanks Alan.” Frank smiled, “I appreciate it.”

Alan waved away his gratitude before he dropped into the chair on the opposite side of Frank’s small desk and gestured for Frank to sit down.

“I wanted to talk to you in person, before the news gets out. I’m looking at retiring Frank, fully this time.”

“That’s good news, for you I mean.” Frank smiled, taking his seat. “You must be happy?”

“Kinda bitter sweet.” He shrugged “But I hit 70 this year and bout time I let it all go. Bill’s already chomping at the bit to book damned fishing trips so...it’ll be nice to step back. But I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Shoot.”

“My son, James is going to be taking over, that won’t come as any surprise to you as you’ve seen him knocking around a bit and he likes you.”

“Good to know I’m not going to be out on my ass.” Frank smiled, breathing out a little.

“No, not a chance. I wouldn’t allow it.” Alan said “I’ll still be the owner, just stepping back from major decision making and day to day running. Anyway, the point is Frank, James needs a deputy. He is young and a little inexperienced. I’ve seen how quickly over the last year you’ve picked up rotas, staffing issues, dealt with the stock takes, haggled with the supply chain…I wondered if you’d consider it.”

Frank blinked “You wanna make me deputy manager?”

“In a word, yes. And I know you got your hands full at the moment and they’ll be even more full when that boy of yours arrives but the changes won’t come into effect until the end of the year so we got plenty of time to work out the details.”

“Wow, I err…” Frank shook his head “I don’t know what to say.”

“I don’t need an answer now.” Alan said, “Take some time to consider it. Talk it over with Fliss.”

“I will, I’ll give it some thought.”

“Ok, well, that’s all I dropped in for.” Alan said, standing up, groaning a little “Did you just hear my damned knees click?”

Frank laughed and shook his head “No, but to be honest mine click too so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Getting old sucks.” Alan said, shaking his head “I tell ya, the minute I can’t enjoy the simple things in life, put a bullet in my head.”

Frank snorted as Alan shot him a wink and left him to his thoughts.

******* Frank glanced down at the wooden boards beneath his feet in the entrance hall. They were solid old wood, oak he thought, and with a clean and polish would look stunning. He looked up and saw Fliss talking animatedly to the realtor, a young man called David as he nodded and gestured to his left. Fliss opened the door and looked at Frank who followed her into the first reception room. It smelt musty, and there was an old sofa and threadbare carpet in the room but it was light and had a nice, airey feeling to it thanks to the large windows at the front of the house.

“New carpet and a bit of paint…” Frank mused nodding, “Be good as new.”

She nodded eagerly, her eyes shining a she looked around and nodded at the fire place “Really, in Florida?”

“It gets cold, as you know.” he teased “Besides, we just fill it with some of your million candles or whatever…”

She nudged him and they turned around, David watching them.

“So, you’re obviously in the older part of the house that hasn’t really been touched apart from upstairs.” he explained, “But if you follow me I’ll show you the extension which is all new and, well, to be honest, I think it’s stunning.”

The three of them moved back into the hall and through a door at the end which led into a huge open plan kitchen and living area. The kitchen was gorgeous. Sleek white units, modern appliances, marble tops, a huge breakfast bar. Douchebag had clearly spent a fortune doing this up. The floor was a light grey and white laminate which David pointed out was heavy wearing.  To the left of the kitchen area was a huge space where Frank could clearly picture their sofas and TV, and then just off that was a door which led into another smaller reception room, freshly painted and carpeted.  He was just pondering how they could turn that into a play room when Fliss gave a gasp and nudged Frank pointing to the large bay window at the back which had been converted into a seating nook of sorts. They made their way over and saw that the view extended right over their garden highlighting a small pool area which was surrounded by a low set of railings with a gate that were all painted a glossy black. The pool itself was sparklingly clean and clearly brand new.

“Oh wow… “ Fliss mumbled, looking at the sand stone tiles that surrounded the area and the rest of the garden.

“Yeah the rear garden loops in an L round the house” David said. “There’s a larger fence around this area to keep it private and separate from the land at the front that runs flush to the yard area.”

Frank’s hands dropping to her hips as he nodded to the right “Could extend that little patio area for a table and chairs, maybe build a brick BBQ. Couple of sun-loungers for that bit at the back of the pool.”

She nodded eagerly before they headed back into the hallway they’d entered into where the realtor showed them the little room that was to the right as you came in the door which held a number of shelves and coat hooks and a toilet and sink basin. They then headed up stairs to find 4 bedrooms. The master extended down the entire side of the house overlooking the main yard area of Sandybrook. It needed some work, the plaster and paint was peeling away in some areas, but Frank wasn’t worried at that. It was an easy job. What he was pleased to see was that the rest of it was in good condition. There was a brand new en-suite attached to it, housing a toilet, a huge shower and his and hers sinks. The room also had built in wardrobes and huge ceiling to floor bi-folding doors which opened up onto a small balcony. Douchebag had clearly been focussing on the big jobs first before he got into the cosmetics, which Frank had to give him credit for.

The main bathroom was in between the wall of their en-suite and the next bedroom, both situated at the back of the house over the extension and overlooking the fields belonging to the yard. The plaster was fresh in that bedroom but hadn’t been painted, again, not an issue, because Frank knew a certain little miss would be no doubt picking a colour as soon a she spotted this room.

“Bet Mary chooses this one.” Frank said, voicing his thoughts and Fliss nodded, smiling

“I would if the Master didn’t have that en-suite.” she grinned “Look at that view!”

“Yeah, who’d have thought you could work from home in the equestrian business” he chuckled as they then headed to the next bedroom on the opposite side of the landing. This was also rather large, but like the main part of the master bedroom, was clearly one of the original two bedrooms the house had and it needed some updating.

The 4th bedroom was a smaller one up a narrow set of stairs hidden by door in the hallway. It opened up into an attic room which tucked into the roof of the house.

The realtor then led them back down and the out to the outbuildings. There was a huge garage with a half- finished apartment of sorts above it that had been used as storage but could be easily a guest suite if they so wanted,  and then the thing Frank had really loved was the workshop off the side of the garage, accessed by a small door. It was musty and full of crap but was somewhere for him to store all his tools and work on any side projects he decided to pick up.

All in all Frank was finding it pretty damned hard to pick faults in the place.

As they headed back to the main house and Frank asked David politely to give them a moment to look around alone and he nodded eagerly before Frank and Fliss headed back into the house.

“I’m getting good vibes Sailor.” Fliss said as she turned round, looking at the kitchen, once more heading over to the bay window seat, “really good vibes.” she spun back to him and he smiled at the look on her face. “I mean, ok, a few rooms need decorating and there’s some finishing off bits to do all over but it’s nothing that dad can’t help with and I’m sure-“

At that she stopped dead, and gave a little gasp as her hand flew to her bump.

“You ok?” Frank stepped forward.

“Yeah he’s…” she swallowed “Bean’s kicking, Frankie! Quick!”

He reached out with his hand and she took it, pressing it to the side of her bump. After a second or two he felt something wriggle a little under his palm and he looked at Fliss, his face cracking into an open mouthed smile as he felt his son move for the first time.

“Lissy…” he swallowed his eyes misting over. “That’s…oh my God!”

“You should feel it from my POV!” Fliss smiled her own eyes glassy too.

Frank didn’t want to take his hand away. Instead, he kept moving his palm, tracking their baby’s movements when eventually they stopped.

“I think that means BB likes the house.” Fliss looked at him.

Frank scoffed, shaking his head. “BB’s Momma likes the house.”

“Doesn’t his Daddy?” she asked, her hands sliding round his neck.

“Yeah, his Daddy does.” he replied honestly in a low voice as he looked around the large room. “In fact, I like it a lot.”

“You think Mary will?”

“Are you kidding?” Frank snorted “Soon as she sees that view and that pool, she’ll be packing to move in straight away.”

“Suppose there’s only one way to find out.” Fliss smiled.

So they did. They brought Mary back the next day after school. She had squealed at the window seat, yelled about the pool and as she had shot upstairs and headed into the bedroom Frank had predicted she would like, given a jump for joy as she realised from the upstairs she had a view over the tall picket fencing that shielded the private area of the garden.

“I can see Monty!” she gleefully pointed out before turning to Frank and looking at him then to Fliss, her hands on her hips “If you don’t buy this house you’re a pair of dumbasses.”

The same sentiment was echoed by Bill when he turned up fifteen minutes or so later and walked around with Frank whilst Fliss and Mary headed to feed the horses. He did exactly the same thing he had done when they had looked at the apartment, pointed out what they needed to do, how long it should take them to do, rough estimates of cost. Plus, he also reminded Frank they were in a great position. They could buy the place and then give his months’ notice on the apartment meaning they could stay where they were until it was finished.

So that was it. Decision made. The next morning they went in with a cheeky offer, some twenty thou below the asking price which was rejected instantly. Then they upped their offer by five…then an additional three to total eight, with the fact that they were cash buyers and not in a chain a huge bargaining chip.

It was later that evening, just after they had finished dinner when the realtor called back.

“Evening Mr Adler, ok so…I have spoken to the vendor. He says if you can up your offer by another two thousand then you’ve got a deal.” David spoke. At that, Frank let out a huge grin, as he looked out of the kitchen window at Mary and Fliss who were outside the apartment, both sat on a chair round the table. He and Fliss had both agreed they were prepared to go to the full asking price, in their mind it was worth it, but they were about to seal the deal here for ten thousand less.

 “Ok, two thousand more.” Frank said, keeping his voice level “But the property comes off the market as we don’t want anyone else spotting it and offering him more before we exchange contracts.” he repeated word for word what Greg had instructed him to do when he had asked him to handle the conveyancing earlier that morning.

“Ok, so the offer on the table is Three-ten on the proviso he grants exclusivity…” David repeated. “Ok, leave it with me.”

Frank finished loading the dishwasher, and had just grabbed himself a beer when David called back not even five minutes later.

“Congratulations Mr Adler, you have a deal.”

He thanked him, and grinning ear to ear headed outside, jumping down the steps onto the lawn.

“What you looking so pleased about?” Fliss looked up at him suspiciously.

“David called… we’ve settled on three-ten plus exclusivity” he smiled

“What, you mean…” Fliss’ mouth fell open and Frank nodded.

“Yup, subject to contracts, the place is ours!”

Mary gave a loud cheer as Fliss jumped up and leapt at him as he smiled, wrapping her in his arms, swinging her up slightly.

“I can’t believe it…” she whispered. “Our own home!”

“I know” he beamed, setting her down as he gave her a quick peck. “I’ll call Greg in the morning. When I talked to him about it he said that with no loans involved it shouldn’t take too long. We could be looking a having the keys in a month.” His hands dropped to her hips, palms resting either side of where his son was growing “So plenty of time to do his nursery.”

Fliss grinned and using the arms that were round his neck pulled his face down to hers and pressed a fierce kiss to his mouth. “God I love you.” she mumbled.

“Love you too.” he grinned, kissing her again, ignoring Mary’s fake puking noises in the background.

*****

June 2019

“Mr Adler?"

Frank stopped as he had been striding over the yard to collect Mary and turned to see Mrs McCarthy, her teacher walking towards him.

"Hi." He smiled, removing his sunglasses so he could look her in the eyes.

"I'm so sorry to bother you"

"No bother at all." He assured her "is everything OK?"

Mrs McCarthy glanced over to where Mary was stood talking to her friend, Rosie, and turned back to him

"Yes...nothing too drastic but I wanted to make you aware about a little incident in class this afternoon"

Frank looked at her, blinking "incident?"

"Maybe that's the wrong word." The older, blonde woman said "Look, as you know next week it's the end of year Gala, the fundraiser and we invite the parents to join us for activities.”

Frank nodded, wishing the woman would get to the damned point. He was hot, dirty and bothered after an afternoon of helping the team on a particularly awkward repair and wanted nothing more than to stand under a cold shower for an hour and flop down outside with a beer.

"Well, one of the girls asked Mary if she was bringing her mom and if they were making anything for the bake sale and Mary rather bluntly told the girl her mother was dead and then clammed up. She didn't speak a word for the rest of the afternoon."

Frank felt his chest tighten as he looked over at Mary who was now giggling with Rosie and sighed

"She didn't do anything wrong" Mrs McCarthy pressed "I was just a little worried."

"Thanks for letting me know, I'll talk to her later, make sure she's okay." Frank assured her.

The woman nodded and headed back across the yard as Frank gave a sharp whistle and slid his aviators back onto his face. Mary looked up and said goodbye to Rosie and came wandering over as Frank waved to Rosie's mom who tossed a hand in greeting in response.

"I'm not Thor" She fixed Frank with a stare.

"I know but I couldn't be bothered walking over." He replied honestly as they climbed into the truck

"You have a good day?"

"It was OK." She shrugged. Frank eyed her for a second before she pulled the car away from the kerb and set off down the road.

"What's for dinner?" Mary asked.

"Steak, baked potatoes and salad." He replies "Fliss' choice."

"Are you grilling?" Mary asked.

"Yup." He nodded

"Cool." Mary nodded "Can I go in the pool before?"

"Got any homework?" Frank countered with another question as he looked at her. Mary shook her head

“End of year next week and Uni didn't give me any summer work."

"Then yeah, of course you can.”

Frank didn't raise the so called incident, deciding to let her chill out a little bit at home first and digest how she felt. After 20 minutes or so of general chat Frank pulled up their driveway and stopped the truck next to Fliss' truck. As they hopped out Mary glanced across the garden over the smaller part of the fence where she could just see Fliss walking across the yard.

"Please can I go see Monty?" She looked at Frank and he nodded.

"I'll watch you." He agreed. With a grin she sprinted over the lawn, climbed over the fence and dropped over onto the other side. Thor gave a bark and Fliss turned round and smiled at her, before she waved at Frank. He waved back before he headed down the side of the house, through the gate in the larger fence before he unlocked the back door and stepped inside the cool air conditioned kitchen, kicking off his shoes and heading straight to the fridge for a beer. Draining half in one he stood, looking around and smiling. They’d finally unpacked the last box yesterday evening and Fliss was still in the process of moving things around their new home, positioning them where she wanted them.

True to Greg’s word, they’d had the keys to the house 4 and a half weeks after making the offer, and 2 weeks post that once the bedrooms and hall had been decorated with a lot of help from Bill, Verity and Roberta (who had been happy for them yet still cried her eyes out when they’d left the park, despite the fact they had assured her they would still come visit and she could also come stay with them too) they’d moved in. The only thing left to do was the reception room (which could wait, it was easy to just shut the door and pretend it didn’t exist) and Bean’s nursery, which he, Fliss and Mary had decided to do together as a project. Mary and Fliss had spent nights pouring over Pinterest for ideas and they’d finally settled on a scheme. Frank had picked up all the plastering supplies and the paint, the furniture was on order and should be arriving at any time that week now he thought about it…so hopefully that weekend they could get cracking. That might cheer Mary up now he thought about it.

Taking his beer with him, he picked up his boots and took them to the cloakroom/bathroom by the stairs. He trudged up the steps, shaking his head at Fred who was led at the top, his paws hanging over the edge of the step as he eyed Frank.

"You're gonna cause a fucking accident." He looked at the ginger cat who merely swished his tail in response. Frank headed into their bedroom, stripping off as he went, walking straight into the en-suite, turning on the shower, setting his beer down on the edge of the sink unit. He stepped in and under the stream of cool water, closing the screen behind him, his mind still on Mary and how he was going to bring up what her teacher has said. With a groan he opened the door, reached out of the cubicle for his beer, took another gulp before he set about washing the grime of the day away.

***** "Have you finished grooming him?" Fliss asked, standing in the doorway to Monty's stable. Mary glanced over from where she had been brushing through his white tail and nodded.

"Wanna take him to the paddock?" Fliss smiled. "Cap and Bronson are waiting for their little pal."

"Sure." Mary shrugged and Fliss frowned a little at her demeanour. She was quiet, which was unlike her when she was round the horses. She was normally full of excitement.

"You OK?" She asked and Mary nodded.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You seem quiet, that's all."

"No, I'm good." She shrugged, before she tossed her brush into the little grooming box she had, closing the lid and passing it to Fliss. Fliss placed the box into the larger wooden one outside the stable before Mary put Monty's halter on and led him out of his stall. Fliss allowed them to walk ahead, her hand on her bump as she followed them out of the yard and down the little path to the gate that led to the paddocks. They reached the one were Monty was going and undoing the gate, Mary led him in. The white pony stood patiently for her to take his halter off before he stuck his nose into the crook of her neck and shoulder. Fliss smiled as Mary gently stroked his neck and then to her utter horror she saw Mary’s shoulders begin to shake as the girl started to cry.

"Hey, Mary..." she soothed, stepping forward as the small girl turned to her, wrapping her arms around her as best she could, pressing her face into her bump "Oh baby what's wrong?"

Mary didn’t reply, instead she continued to sob and Fliss felt powerless to do anything other than wrap her arms around her, one hand resting on her head, the other between her shoulders.

“Something happened at School…” Mary whispered and Fliss gently tipped her head up to look at her. “Someone said something and…”

“Ok, how about we go back to the office and you can tell me all about it ok?”

Mary nodded, sniffing as her sobs died down. Fliss held out her hand and Mary took it and together they headed back down to the yard. Joanne looked at Mary who was hiccupping slightly with her sobs and frowned but Fliss shook her head.

“Can you feed the top barn for me and then you can go.” she said to Jo who nodded. “I’ll lock up.” “Sure, see you tomorrow. Bye Mary.” she smiled. Mary looked at her and gave a small wave before Fliss led her into the office. She grabbed them both an apple juice from the fridge and then Mary sat on the chair at the end of the desk, wiping her eyes with a tissue that Fliss handed her from the box.

“You ready to talk?”

Mary nodded, and then she stood up and walked over to Fliss who made room for her to clamber up onto her lap. It was a bit awkward but after a little shifting around they found a way she could sit unobstructed by Boston Bean and Mary lay her head against Fliss’ shoulder.

“It was about the gala.” she sniffed “One of them asked me if my mom was coming and…”

“Oh sweetie.” Fliss sighed, rubbing her back. “I get that must have been hard.”

Mary shrugged “I told them she was dead.” she said matter of factly “I get that and I never knew my mom so I don’t miss her as a person…but then I started to think about why she died and I don’t understand.” “Understand what?”

“Why?” Mary looked at her. “Why would she do what she did when she had me? Why did she want to leave me behind?”

Fliss took a deep breath and cradled the girl as best she could, trying to think of a way to explain to which Mary could relate, and then it came to her, she could use her own experience here. There was no getting around the fact this was going to be a heave conversation, but Mary was a smart kid and deserved to be treated as such.

With another deep inhale, Fliss looked down at her, kissing her head before she opened rather bluntly "You know I tried to kill myself."

"You did?" Mary pulled back to look up at her "Why?"

"Because I saw it as my only way out." Fliss gently smoothing Mary’s hair back. "I was stuck in an awful situation. My ex-husband hurt me physically and mentally and I gave up. I wanted out."

Mary remained silent and looked at her.

"For someone to get to that point...they have to have hit rock bottom. Like there is nowhere to go. It's not their fault. And it doesn't mean they don't love the people they leave behind just that they're desperate to escape whatever pain they feel, be it in their head or their body or both."

"But I still don't understand." Mary shook her head.

"And you may never, not fully." Fliss sighed gently "And as horrible as it is that's something you are gonna have to live with but you have to remember that your mom was sick. And for whatever reason she saw this as her only escape. It wasn't Evelyn's fault, it wasn't Frank's fault and it certainly wasn't yours."

"But if she loved me like Frank says she did..."

"You think I don't love my mum and dad? Or Steve? Charlie, Joel?"

Mary blinked before she lay her head back against Fliss' shoulder. "Of course you do.”

"But I was still gonna leave them behind. I was desperate. And you wanna know the real stupid thing?"

"What?"

"When I got better I still went back to John. I went back to a real toxic environment and a man that abused me. Because I felt like it was what I deserved. And even though I left him way before I met you and Frank, it wasn't until me and Frank started dating that I really understood I wasn't to blame. I always thought I did something to make him hurt me but I didn't. Being with Frank, the way he treats me and loves me made me see that it was him with the problem, not me.”

"But that's different" Mary glanced up

"The trigger was, yes." Fliss nodded "But your mom, like me, was in a position so helpless, so unbelievably sad that she thought she was to blame and that the world, including you, would be better off without her even though she was so wrong."

**** Once showered and dried, Frank dressed in a pair of shorts and clean T-shirt before he headed back downstairs. There was no sign of Fliss or Mary but as he strode out into the garden he heard a car heading down the drive by the side of the house from the yard and correctly assumed it was Joanne leaving for the day. He opened the gate and just saw the tail of her car turn onto the main road as he headed into the garage for the charcoal to light the BBQ.

Once that was done, leaving the flames to die down he headed out across the lawn, vaulting over the small fence onto the yard. He headed round the barn and frowned as he couldn't see anyone. After a quick look round he spotted the door to Fliss' office was closed. He went to open it but stopped as he could hear the sound of voices. It was Mary and Fliss but he could tell from the pitch and stutters in Mary's that she was upset. He paused, hand hovering over the handle as he heard Fliss speaking to her softly. "Stack, you are so loved. Frank loves you, I love you, Nanny V, Poppa Bill, Uncle Steeby, Roberta, Evelyn...Thor, Fred and Monty..." she paused "You're such a special little girl and I know I'm not your mom but, well, I feel like I am."

"You do?"

"I'd do anything to keep you safe and happy. And so would Frank"

They both fell silent and Frank swallowed, the lump in his throat almost choking him.

"Don't ever feel like we don't" Fliss continued "and if I have to bake 200 fucking cookies for your Gala next week to prove it then I will."

Mary giggles "You know Bean can hear you swearing."

"Well I won't tell Frank if you don't"

"Do you think Frank feels like my dad?" Mary asked a moment later and at that point Frank really wanted to walk away. He couldn't listen to this, he didn't want to listen to this...but something kept him rooted to the spot.

"I know he does." Fliss replied.

"But he doesn't like it when people say it. I know that, I heard him talking to you. Bill’s not your real dad but you still say he is…."

“That’s slightly different sweetheart.” Fliss sighed "My real dad left my mom before I was born, so when he died. I didn’t even know him and I don’t care that I didn’t either. But your mom was Frank's sister. He wants to make sure you remember her, understand who she was. He could have easily just pretended to be your dad all this time, you would never have known any different but he didn't. Because he loves you and your mom too much. He's too honest and it’s important to him that you understand. But that doesn't mean he doesn't love you like he is your dad, or that you can't love him like he is."

Frank turned away from the door, looking up at the sky and taking a deep shuddering breath. Fuck, this was hard to hear. He knew Mary had been upset before but the thought that it ran this deep was killing me. Wiping at his face, his hands then dropped to his hips and he looked down at his sneakers before he turned to the door, reaching for the handle but once more pausing as he couldn’t face interrupting them, not whilst they were in the middle of a moment.

“I suppose that makes sense.” Mary continued  “And I do love him like he is. And I love you like you’re my mom too.”

“Well that’s all that matters.” Fliss replied “It may be unconventional but we’re a family, and that’s the main thing huh?”

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks Lissy.” Mary spoke.

“You’re welcome Stack” Fliss’s voice was soft and there was a pause as Frank could picture the pair of them hugging.

“Hey, did you now I’m going to be doing all the money stuff for the bake stall?” Mary’s voice was suddenly up beat as she switched topic “Because I’m good at maths they said I could be in charge of payments and handing people their change and stuff.”

“Nice work kiddo.” Fliss smiled, “Tell you what, we’ll put Nanny V on the case, her baking is way better than mine. We can get her over one night next week whilst Pops is helping Frank with the plastering in the nursery.”

Ok, that was it, safe to enter without interrupting anything. Frank gave a little knock and then opened the door, fixing a smile on his face.

“Hope I haven’t interrupted any girl talk” he smiled and Mary jumped up and ran to him, giving him a hug. He looked at Fliss who wiped her eyes.

“Ok?” he mouthed at her and she nodded back, her lips moving silently as she replied.

“Tell you later.”

“BBQ is lit.” Frank said, looking down at Mary “You still wanna play in the pool?”

She nodded and grinned. “Yeah.”

“Sounds like a great idea.” Fliss grinned “Let’s lock up and head home…oh wait, we don’t need to head home because…” “We’re already there!” Mary grinned, and then she spun round to see Fred peering round the door. “Hey, look who came to visit!” “Bout time he earned his keep.” Frank grumbled “Go catch some mice.”

Fred stalked past him into the office, looked around, before he sauntered back out, clearly not interested.

“He’s a lover not a killer Frank.” Mary grinned, as Frank watched the cat walk off into the evening sun.

The three of them locked up before they headed back to the house and Mary shot upstairs to get changed.

“So, how much did you hear?” Fliss turned to Frank as he pulled a beer from the fridge along with a bottle of water, sliding it over to her.

“Enough.” he sighed “Her teacher collared me before. Said that one of the kids had asked about her mom in class and she’d gotten upset.”

“She asked me why Diane did what she did.” Fliss sighed, “Why she left her behind if she loved her so much.”

Frank swallowed. “What did you say?”

“I explained about why I tried to kill myself.” Fliss shrugged “Told her about the desperation I felt…but that didn’t mean that I didn’t love my family just that I saw it as my only way out. I know it was heavy and maybe not really the right thing to do but...”

She was cut off as Frank stepped forward, taking her face in his hands as he kissed her, hard. It took her a moment to catch up but once she did she melted into him, her mouth opening to grant him access as he ran his tongue along her bottom lip.

“Thank you.” He said gently as he pulled away, his hands still cupping her face.

“What for?” Fliss asked, reaching up to gently wrap her fingers around his wrists.

“For loving her as much as you do.” he shrugged. “For loving us both as much as you do.”

“Oh, Sailor.” Fliss’ eyes brimmed with tears “How could I not?”

***** Frank didn’t sleep particularly well that night. Mary’s conversation with Fliss was running through his brain and every time he drifted off he would wake about an hour or so later, fresh worries and concerns running through his mind. In the end, at just before 5 am he gave up and climbed out of bed. He grabbed a T-shirt and a pair of sweats and putting them on he headed downstairs. He flipped on the TV in the hope the early morning new would distract him, but it didn’t.

It was clear to him that Mary was struggling with where she was going to fit in the family dynamic. He hadn’t really worried much up to that point, being convinced by Fliss that if they kept her involved with stuff to do with Bean she would be ok but this went much deeper than the fact they were expecting a baby.

He’d be lying if he said the thought of him claiming to be Mary’s Father had never entered his mind. It would have been a lot easier but out of loyalty and love to Diane he had wanted to make sure she knew about her mother, and understood the truth because in the end, a lie would always come round to bite you on the ass. It wasn’t that he had a problem with people assuming he was Mary’s father but…

God what a fucking mess.

“Hey…” a soft voice drew him from his thoughts and he looked up to see Fliss stood in the doorway, his T-shirt she was wearing now hardly covered the top of her thighs thanks to her Bean bump.

“Sorry beautiful, did I wake you?” he asked.

“No.” she shook her head, dropping down next to him. “I got up to pee and you were gone.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” he shrugged.

“What’s wrong handsome?”  she lay her head on his shoulder and he took a deep breath.

“Just thinking about Mary that’s all.” he shrugged. “She’s always asked questions about Diane but not like that.”

“She’s getting older Frank.” Fliss said, her hand reaching out for his as she began to play with his fingers “She’s bound to start thinking about things differently. She was ok last night after she talked to me, and then later you when you tucked her in. She doesn’t keep her feelings bottled up, and that’s good. It’s a testament to you that she feels like she can talk to us about things.”

“I know.” Frank looked down at her, kissing her head “I guess I just worry Lissy, worry about how she’s gonna feel when Bean is here and he’s calling us mom and dad and she doesn’t.”

“Frank.” Fliss sighed as she sat up straight. “Mary knows we love her. And what she calls us doesn’t change a damned thing. You’re worrying unduly now. We can’t do anything about that other than-“

“Yes, yes we could.” Frank looked at her. Fliss took a deep breath as his eyes locked onto hers, instantly understanding.

“I thought you said you’d never even consider adopting her?”

“I never thought I would.” he shrugged. “But it’s been playing on my mind after what mother said and then after last night…” “Why? What did Evelyn say?” Fliss asked.

“When she was here last, she told me that Diane’s memory wouldn’t suddenly fade if Mary called me dad…” he licked his lips “It was almost like she was giving me permission to do it…you know? Not that I need it or really give a shit what she thinks.” he paused, taking a deep breath “If I’m totally honest Diane isn’t the only reason I said I didn’t want to. I just never thought of myself as being dad material. I was such a screw up until I met you and I thought that by staying as her Uncle, it would give her that distance, you know?”

“Not dad material?” Fliss looked at him, shaking her head “Oh Frank, you idiot. You’ve done an amazing job with her…and you will do with Bean too.”

He smiled at her, sniffing slightly as she continued.

“But there is one person who’s opinion counts most here.” Fliss said gently “And that’s Mary. If you’re serious then you should ask her if it’s what she wants. Because after 9 years of calling you Frank…”

“I know.” Frank agreed, “And I agree, completely. It would have to be her decision. But at least if I ask her if she would like us to then-“

“Us?” Fliss looked at him, blinking. “You mean you want me to?”

“Of course I do.” Frank nodded, before he frowned slightly “But if that isn’t what you want, I understand. It’s a big-“ Fliss cut him off by pressing a kiss to his lips “Of course I do Frank. I love Mary like she is my own anyway so…” Frank beamed at her and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her head. “So, we’re agreed. We ask her?”

Fliss nodded and pulled back, her hand resting on his cheek. “We ask her.”

Chapter 8

[neverendingstories00]

Past The Point Of No Return (Ch.1)

Summary: Your the young and fiery Cryptographer for M16 who happens to be the obsession of the mysterious and disfigured Safin. When you threaten to bring him down, he makes sure to drag you down with him.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Minor descriptions of blood/violence

A/N: Please Read!! I haven’t seen any Safin x reader fics, so I decided to write one myself. Ik the movie comes out in November, but I cannot wait. I’m in love with this pyshco man. This will be a mature story by the way and I’ll try updating as soon as I can! I’ll add warnings before each chapter starts. Just take a few notes in! Ik the movies come out in November so this is pure speculation on Safin’s origins/motives. Bond is back in business and took back 007 while Nomi took 008. Reader is a Cryptographer for M16. Your codename will be C but y/n will come in soon. Also, Reader is female. Hope you enjoy!

The Pandemic had caused discord throughout London. It didn’t seem like it would infect the globe in less than three months. But when Q had gotten the virus, the office had shut down in less than twenty-four hours. If you weren’t a field agent, then it was required to work from home. For someone like C and Q, it wasn’t a big deal. All of there work required communication from electronics. But evil was always on the rise. It never stopped. March had dragged into June as the Pandemic only worsened. y/n wasn’t one for social interaction, so thriving in isolation wasn’t the worst thing on the planet.

M16’s biggest threat was the infamous Safin. Even Q couldn’t encrypt any information on him, nobody could. Safin was a prime example of an anarchist. He refused to let some Pandemic stop his reign of terror and thirst for world domination. His movement of so-called “absent authority” was causing terror in post-soviet countries. Violent protests, property damage, the list when on. The anarchist targeted smaller countries that wanted to break free from there governments. Bond called Safin “a man who wanted to play god because he was bored”. Safin was a true anarchist (and a possible sadist). Information on his past and whereabouts were near impossible to find. He would insult M16 constantly since he knew he was winning the game of cat and mouse. It seemed like Safin was going to keep upsetting established order until the brink of a civil war.

But you were always one step ahead.

C, or y/n, was a Cryptographer for M16. After Bond’s hiatus, they had been recruited for there work in the military. You were the perfect candidate; bilingual, hands-on, young, intelligent, and fiery. One of the many languages you spoke was Morse code and other military languages. Not even Q, the smartest man in M16, was fluent in all of them. But with your aid, he caught onto it quite well. The Cryptographer and Quartermaster had made quite an efficient team and friendship. While Q gave orders and signals to the double’s oh, you stayed in the back, encrypting the signals and decrypting codes. Having a Cyrptographer was truly an aid for M16. You were praised by all of agents for your hard work and loyalty to the world of espionage. Enemies and other organizations envied for the cryptographer.

Before the lockdown, you had noticed a pattern in the protests. The leading agitators would all wear bandannas covered in the phonetic alphabet. Any normal person could see nothing in this. But with years in the military and language, you quickly followed onto the pattern. Q had noticed it as well along with the other double oh’s. The only people who spoke the phonetic alphabet in M16 were you and a few agents, and not even Q could decipher such a code. The message said many things, mainly gibberish. But you did not give up so easily. Whenever you saw a challenge, you attacked it with rigor. After rearranging for hours on end, ten codes had stuck out to M16 that could be a lead in bringing down the anarchist.

ROMEO OSCAR MIKE ECHO

CHARLIE ALPHA CHARLIE ALPHA CHARLIE ALPHA SIERRA

ALPHA MIKE SIERRA TANGO ECHO ROMEO DELTA ALPHA MIKE

OSCAR SIERRA LIMA OSCAR

  TANGO OSCAR KILO YANKEE OSCAR

HOTEL OSCAR NOVEMBER GOLF KILO OSCAR NOVEMBER GOLF

MIKE OSCAR SIERRA CHARLIE OSCAR WHISKEY

CHARLIE ALPHA INDIA ROMEO OSCAR

All of them happened to lead to capital cities across the world, which happened to be countries that were infested with Safin’s anarchism. With even more research, Q managed to pinpoint possible gatherings for the terrorists. It could be a break in the case. Each double oh was sent to these locations. 007 and 008 were both flown out to Rome. The location was near the Spanish Steps. Even after the pandemic, the area had been bustling with civilians and protestors. You and Q had been in charge of guiding them to the location,

“You’d think during this pandemic, these bloody idiots would stay inside.” Bond said as he moved past the crowd of angry protestors. He wiped dust off of his grayish-blue suit.  Safin’s message of tidying the world of “corruption” sent shivers down any sane person’s spine.

Nomi was ahead of him, dressed in a white chic jumpsuit and cat sunglasses. “The wicked never sleep, Bond.”

He huffed, frustrated. Of course, when his vacation had been occurring Q would call for his aid. “Q, how much further?”

“Maybe if you would pick your pace, then you would get there in four minutes instead of forty.” Q responded.

C could hear Nomi chuckle, and followed along with her.

Bond annoyingly huffed, “I truly haven’t missed your remarks, Q.”

“Gentlemen, settle down.” You interrupted, able to see where the agents were through the bodycams.  “Keep your guard up. Your getting stares from some protestors. Oh, and do pick up the pace.”

The two agents squeezed through the crowd. Nomi had noticed them being followed. But thanks to Q, they lost them through Rome’s small puzzle-like streets. Upon losing them, the agents had left the lavish streets of Rome and into the more sketchy and depressed areas. The further they walked the more life began to disappear. Bond and Nomi stuck out in there designer outfits in the slums of Rome.

“On your right,” You stated. The agents stopped, looking upon the building. Nomi took her glasses off to examine the building. It was broken down, dark, and covered by boards.

Bond sighed, “Bloody hell. This it?”

“Unfournelty,” Q said. “Head in the back, there’s an open entrance.”

Nomi and Bond turned to the back of the building, noticing a piece of wood covering the wood. Bond attempted to move it, but his age was beginning to show. The young and muscled Nomi tore it down, letting them enter the broken down building. On the side, it was dark and empty. Shining the light of his rifle, Bond noticed a kitchen that was covered in dust and spiderwebs.

Q and C heard faint noises, which sounded like music. Nomi moved close to the stairs and could hear it coming from the upstairs. Along with the music was a light.

“See anything, double oh eight?” You asked, looking through her bodycam. The song sounded Italian. It could have been singing, or just a record player.

“A light. You think we have company?” She asked, pointing her rifle upstairs.

“Seems like it. Investigate, Keep your weapons at bay.” Q ordered.

Bond had led him and Nomi up the creaky wooden stairs. The music had become much louder. At the end of the hallway was a door closed, with light emanating under it. The two agents tiptoed to the door. Bond placed his ear against it, hearing only the sweet Italian love song. Q and C couldn’t tell what was behind that door. It could be Safin, his goons, anything.

Counting down to three, Bond and Nomi kicked the door down, guns prepared for anything. But the room was empty. It had been lite by a few candles with a CD boombox, blasting a loud Italian song. Bond examined the room for anything suspicious while Nomi went over, kicking the boombox quiet. She picked up the CD player, examining the front.

“E’ la vita?” The female agent muttered, turning the DVD over. The other side had been written in morse code. C found this odd, squinting her eyes to see. The handwriting was neat and done in an expensive ink. Not only was there writing, but it seemed like it was a list of more global cities. It seemed oddly familiar. “Why waste good ink on a CD?”

“Double oh eight, can you r-”

Bond interrupted, “BOMB! GET DOWN!”

All C could remember is Bond running towards Nomi to cover her before both of there bodycams had glitch out. She panicked, trying to reconnect to them. Q had a status of all of the double oh’s, and each of there bodycams began to flicker out. Then Q and you had realized the worst of it.

Safin had set them up.

“Fuck. It was a fucking trap.” You huffed, running a hand through your hair. They had truly hit a dead end. “Q, any signal? I can’t reach them.”

“None. I’m trying to get their signals. There cams both locked out before the explosion.” Q replied. He was just as frustrated as his co-worker. Suddenly, both of there computers froze with glitched screens. “Not only was it 007 and 008, but the other double oh’s went out.”

C could hear Q cursing under his breath, the sounds of him furiously clicking his keyboard. “Shit, Shit, Shit..”

“Q, what is it?”

“He hacked us. Safin inflated the sys-”

Just like Bond and Nomi, Q’s signal that gone out. It had all be planned. Safin wanted for all of us to happen. The other agents had probably been killed. Sitting in front of a glitched-out screen, you let out a small sigh and slumped back into her chair. Singlehandedly, you had fucked up.

“Not such a clever girl now, are we?”

Raising your shoulders, y/n arched her neck back to avoid the sharp blade that was too close for comfort. The voice was velvety with a slight accent to it. From the videos M16 had received, you knew it all too well.

It was Safin himself.

“I-it was a trap..” You stuttered, unable to talk to the knife around your neck. Safin’s hand was on C’s shoulder, holding her from getting up. C heard footsteps from behind. Great, now you were truly defenseless, being held by the world’s most feared Anarchist. In the corner of your eye, y/n saw the white mask he wore to conceal his identity. It looked like a porcelain doll prop straight out of a horror film.  “A fucking trap.”

“Your little friends are gone now, No one is here to protect you now” Safin whispered into your ear. He was too close for comfort. He took an inhale of your Chanel perfume, admiring your breathing pattern. He thought y/n was so gorgeous this close. After months of waiting, Safin was so close to her, yet far. The woman who had threatened to bring down him was now enwrapped in his arms with a knife to her neck. But she wasn’t scared. Her breathing was heavy, but Safin had noticed that she was rather calm for having a blade held to her throat.

You chuckled at his “weak” response, “I have your locations all on record. M16 will bring you to your knees, you monster.”

“A monster?” He marveled, amused by Y/n’s comment. This man was a true psychopath. “My dear, you truly live up stubbornness. You lead all of those double oh’s into there demise. How innocent does that make you feel?”

“Says the one who wants to kill millions.” Y/n hissed, venom in her voice. You felt the guilt pull at your heart. “I saw your plan. You’re killing Europe city by city. Fooling the post soviet states and moving up towards the Medterrian. Your delusional.”

“Your ignorance is their power.” He purred into her ear. He massaged y/n’s shoulder to relax her (as he held her down). “You are a very talented girl, wasting her intelligence on foolish old m--”

Seeing him lose his guard, you reached for your mug full of hot coffee and threw it back at his mask. He lost his footing and fell backward as the lower piece of his mask cracked off. Wasting no time, you pushed yourself up and ran behind the desk to the front entrance. Q’s flat wasn’t far away. If you took the right routes and stayed out of action, then he could help her. As she neared towards the entrance, a sharp sting echoed through your knee to your thigh. Tripping on the edge of your carpet, your tripped and scraped your head against a coffee table, falling to the ground. You tried to stay awake and fight, but eventually succumbed to the darkness.

Safin pushed himself up, noticing that the bottom part of his mask showed his chin and lips. He turned to see y/n’s body by the door, her navy slacks stained by blood.

Safin cursed under his breath, walking over to her body to check if she had a pulse. Thankfully you did, but it was light. “Who shot her..?”

His henchmen did not respond, holding their weapons.

“I SAID WHAT ONE OF YOU IMBECILES SHOT HER?” Safin yelled, pure fury in his voice.

One of the men, donned in black and holding a sniper rifle, stepped forward. “It was me, Safin. You said tha-”

The man with the sniper rifle was shot in the neck and fell backward, choking on his own blood. Each of the henchmen jumped back. They knew when Safin raised his voice that he was going to die.

A small sigh escaped Safin’s lips as he pushed back his hair. Safin turned to face Serrano, his right-hand man. He was tall and lean with dark skin and emerald eyes. “Serrano..”

“Yes, Safin?”

“What did I explicitly say to you to tell these idiots before we entered C’s flat?”

Serrano responded, “Not to bring her back dead, but alive and injured.”

“And what do type of girl do you see laying on the ground?” The anarchist pointed to the ground, showing Y/n’s body. She had a bruise on her forehead and a bloody thigh.

“An injured girl, sir,” Serrano replied, looking down in embarrassment.

There was an awkward between the anarchist and this men before he commanded, “The lot of you, take the girl and prepare the car. Serrano, wipe all of her devices and anything that can track her. We leave on the submarine by dusk.”

The men nodded as the muscule grabbed C’s motionless body and carried her out. Serrano destroyed her phone, computer, and any camera or electronic that lingered in the flat before they left the crime scene. Entering the range rover, Serrano sat in the front with the driver while Safin sat in the back with the unconscious Cryptographer.

As they began to drive to the docks, Serrano asked, “Safin, what do you see in this girl? She is not James Bond or Madeleine Swann.”

“I see a source of information. This girl is not some receptionist or analyst.” Safin explained as he looked at her sleeping body. Your face was more relaxed than it was thirty minutes ago. There was something so intriguing about the Cyrptographer that Safin couldn’t pinpoint. “She fell into her very own trap, letting us access all of the M16 databases. M16 just lost there most valuable asset.”

“A bargaining chip?” Serrano questioned.

“Not just a bargaining chip, but an intelligent girl who is going to be vital to us.” He explained, “Unlike Bond, she is not redundant. She has many values, I know of it. You will see, Serrano. The world will open it eyes to y/n.”

Safin couldn’t take his eyes off of you. The remaining sunlight from the purple sunset shined on her face. Seeing your face, he knew Y/n not only ordinary on the inside but the outside. A woman that was much younger than he was made him feel less bitter about the world. He had a lonely life and seeing a young and beautiful such as yourself made him drop everything to the floor. The way your floral smelling [y/h/t] [y/h/c] hair fell out of the small bun and rested on your shoulders, [y/s/c] glowed in the sunlight, and the sweet aroma you wore drove Safin mad. Unknown to your knowledge, he had been watching over you for quite some time. You had a desk job, but occasionally accompanied the double oh’s and even had taken out some of his henchmen in the past. Y/n was a girl who not only knew how to decrypt some of the hardest codes to M16 but could defend herself if needed. Safin’s mere intrguement with you had grown into an obsession. Now the woman he obsessed over was sitting less than a foot away from him. Upon seeing the cryptographer, he knew that he needed you. He wanted y/n more than anything in the world. M16 didn’t deserve such talent. In Safin’s eyes, all they had ever done for y/n was hold her back from being your best self; by his side.

“I’m sorry they hurt you.” He cooed, pushing a glossy lock to get a better view of y/n’s face. “I have freed you from there incompetence. I know you will demand to leave and mindlessly say that you hate me. But I promise you my sweet, you will grow to like me and your new home.”

Safin felt like he was the luckiest man in the world.

[thran-duils]

Lost In Zero Gravity (P.9)

Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Nine) 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: 2,794 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior

Part Eight || Part Ten || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

“Stop fucking following me!” Alessia threatened Tony as he followed her out of the apartment complex onto the sidewalk. He had taken the stairs while she had taken the elevator.

Out of breath, he tried to apologize, “Sweetheart, I can—”

She whipped around, shoving a finger into his face, sending him onto his heels. “Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me! Just go back upstairs and finish fucking that little slut! You seemed so goddamn content burying your dick into her! Just coming into any pussy that grants you entrance! What does it matter what’s going on at home? Because you obviously don’t care that Olivia was asking where her daddy was when she got off stage after having the lead role in her play and you weren’t there!”

She whipped around and came to an abrupt stop because Daryl was there all of a sudden and he stepped in front of her, blocking her path, thinking he was doing the right thing. “Mrs. Stark—”

“Move!” Alessia shouted at him, pushing her purse up her shoulder further, taking a step towards him.

Daryl looked at Tony over her shoulder for guidance and she took the liberty of giving him a rough shove, sending him off balance to give herself room.

She took off towards her car, leaving the two of them behind.

Tony took some steps towards her but the middle finger she shot at him before she got into the car stopped him in his tracks. Terrence came out of the building then but he was only met with Tony storming back by him.

<><><>

Steve jolted when Tony marched back into the apartment, slamming the door behind him. He only stopped for a moment, his veins in his forehead pulsing before he shouted, “FUCK!”

Quickly, Steve reminded him, “Tony! It’s 5am!”

“I don’t give a flying fuck!” Tony exclaimed.

He rushed to the cupboard, grabbing a glass and throwing the faucet handle back with force that made Steve fear he was going to break it off. He thrust the glass underneath the water before bringing it to his lips, gulping it down.

His hand came to rest on the counter as the water settled, but his fingers were still gripping the glass way too hard. Steve waited for him to relax, opting to not say anything until Tony made the next move.

“Is she alright?” Tony asked with difficulty.

He put the glass down, looking at Steve expectantly. Steve gestured weakly and Tony did not accept that answer. He began to move towards the hallway and Steve jumped to action, coming to block his way.

“Don’t,” Steve warned.

“What?” Tony demanded.

Steve gestured at the island where Tony’s socks, shoes, shirt, and other belongings were lying that Tony had not noticed yet in his rampage past it to get some water. “She threw those out of the room. Just… don’t. Leave her alone.”

In disbelief, a manic smirk coming to Tony’s face, he asked, “So… ‘don’t’?”

“She locked us out, Tony.”

<><><>

You heard someone knock aggressively on the bedroom door and you buried yourself further into the blankets, holding the icepack closer to your jaw.

“Y/N?” you heard Tony call.

You said nothing, curling up further into yourself.

“Y/N!”

You tossed the blankets back, the icepack falling from your hand to land on your sheets. Hands planted beside your hips, you shouted at the door, “GO AWAY!”

<><><>

Tony sucked his teeth hearing Y/N shout at him, telling him to leave.

“Well, where do you think I’m gonna go? Because I sure as hell can’t go home!”

“I don’t know! Figure it the FUCK out! You have an office chair you can sleep on right?” she shouted from the other side of the door.

Tony inhaled sharply, his heart rate increasing dramatically. The second woman in his life tonight to tell him to fuck off and he was not about to have it.

As if Steve could sense Tony was taking a step back to cock his foot up and kick the doorhandle in, he barked down the hall in warning, “Tony! Don’t!”

Tony stormed up to him and rasped to try to mask the conversation from Y/N’s ears, “She’s being fucking ridiculous! Do you not hear her? I’m trying to go in there and help her and—”

“I now,” Steve interjected, cutting him off. “She’s emotional. It’s not surprising. But she did get punched twice in the face.”

Through gritted teeth, Tony took a step back, shaking his head. “Fucking… Alessia. How the FUCK did she even find out where we were?”

“She probably followed us. Seems you missed a play and she probably took it up from there trying to figure out what could’ve kept you from it,” Steve told him, setting him with a fierce look. “Seems like a rookie mistake to me.”

An unfriendly smile came across Tony’s face and he said in a dangerous tone, “Now don’t you—”

“No, you know you fucked up. Take the L and learn from it.” Steve gestured down the hallway towards the bedroom, “Let Y/N calm down. She will. Like you said, good girl. She just need space sometimes. And we should give her that. And then we can go deal with the fucking can of worms that was just released all over our goddamn living rooms, yeah?”

<><><>

You heard them leave the apartment. You could not hear most of the last part of their conversation but you heard them leave. You were waiting for that noise of the lock in the front door.

You had paid your dues well enough in your opinion. You had been at their beck and call since the end of August and it was almost December now. And you had not asked them to kill Jared; they had done that all on their own because of their possessiveness and jealousy.

It had to happen and happen quick; you leaving. Before they had time to try to reconcile with you. Tonight would be best, even better this afternoon. You were sick of being treated like they owned you; no matter the feelings you had developed for them, it could not be overstated that you were essentially property. Fuck, they had locked you down in this apartment for a month and a half. It did not matter if you relished in their attention and touch. How were you to know those feelings of affection were real anyway if you were never given a proper chance?

<><><>

You grabbed your purse hanging off the back of your front door on the hook, readying yourself to leave. Throwing your game face on, you also threw the door open, stumbling into the hallway. Snorting, you caught your balance on the doorframe and spun back to face the door, slamming it behind you.

Terrence was waiting at the end of the hall and saw you fumbling with your keys to lock the door behind you.

You heard him say your name, but you ignored him, shoving your key at the deadbolt. He was moving towards you quickly by his footsteps and he made it there quick, just as you locked it.

From beside you, he said, “Y/N?”

Acting startled, your hand came to your chest, jumping back from him. You teetered again, feigning alcohol imbalance and his hand shot out to grab your arm, steading you.

“Oh, shit. Terrance, it’s you. Hey.”

“What are you doing? You should be staying inside.”

“I have a key now, duh,” you said holding it up to him. He did not look impressed and you said, “Why should I stay in? I’m going out!”

“Well, for one, you’ve got a nice shiner on your cheek. Not a great look. Secondly, the bosses wanted you to stay here until things settled. Stay inside until they get the shit under control.”

“Neat,” you said, making sure you slurred it.

Terrence unlocked the door again, assisting you inside. “Y/N, love. You are not sober.”

“Nope, what gave it away?” you giggled, leaning onto his arm for support. You had taken a shot took to make your breath smell off.

“Let’s get you back in here,” he said, kicking the door behind the two of you closed. He brought you over to the island and sat you in one of the chairs.

You eyed the bottle on the counter still and hopped up out of the chair. He made to protest but you came around and poured alcohol into the two glasses. You held one out to him and said, “Seriously, relax. You guys have had a rough day. I mean, I did. I got punched in the face.” You gestured at your cheek and jaw where the bruises had already started to form. “It’ll help.”

Terrence took it from you reluctantly, but you were cheerful as all hell. Clinking glasses, you said, “Cheers. To being in the apartment.”

It took almost an hour for him to pass out with the sleeping pill you had crushed into the glass mixed with the alcohol. Not having to pretend anymore about being drunk, you moved quickly. You grabbed your packed bag out of the bedroom and grabbed the cat carrier. Luna was reluctant at first but when she saw the plush shirt and handful of treats you had packed in there for her she walked in willingly and you closed the door behind her. Thankfully she was not a crier when it came to a carrier; you had had cats that had just been hellions about it.

<><><>

“Tatiana, please—”

You were standing at the foot of her bed, having woke her up very late in the night after leaving your apartment and Terrence passed out on the counter. You had snuck out an emergency exit with Luna and ordered an Uber. Thankfully at least your phone was still separate from anything Tony and Steve had their hands on. A sliver of grace in this shitstorm. The security guards at the brothel had let you in knowing who you were and because you had begged so profusely and swore you would take all the wrath she had to throw.

“What are you of asking me?” she was tired. She eyed the cat carrier at your feet and you decided to ignore that for the moment. Luna was still quiet, snuggling in her blanket you had in there.

Shifting uncomfortably, you said nervously, “Let me move back in.”

She cocked her head, eyes running up and down you. “Has this been agreed upon?”

You wanted to scream at that question. Your future being determined by the two of them was getting underneath your skin.

“I don’t need it to be agreed upon. I’m—I don’t want to live there anymore. I wanna move back here. I wanna move back home.”

That seemed to pain her, you calling the brothel home.

Tatiana stood up then and took some steps towards you. Concern was painted on her face. “What happened?”

You had come in with a hood on, banking on the dark light in the room. And you had not fully looked at her yet. That is something that must have set her on edge about the whole conversation to begin with no doubt.

But the time for shrouding the situation was over. You turned her head to look at her head on and threw your head back so she got a full view of your face.

She looked shocked for a moment before she asked firmly, “Did they do that?”

“No,” you admitted. “Tony’s wife did. She found the apartment somehow. And… me on top of Tony.”

“Shit,” Tatiana swore underneath her breath.

“And they had the audacity to be mad at me for wanting space. I got assaulted in my bedroom! I didn’t… I didn’t do anything wrong! I mean, I did, knowingly. But it’s not my place to make calls for their relationships. It’s not my relationship that’s being fucked up! I’m just… stuck! I’m forced there!” Your lip warbled. “I don’t want to be there anymore. If they want to continue seeing me it has to be here. Where I know random people are not going to barge in, tear me off a bed, and sock me in the face! Where I can do my job in peace!”

“Is it still just a job in your circumstance?”

“What the fuck do you mean?” you exasperated.

“What do you think I mean?”

“Y/N… it’s way past a job for you now and you know it. You’re theirs. You’re their mistress. And in these situations, mistresses sure the hell aren’t the ones calling the shots. And certainly not calling when the relationship is done or where it’s heading. You’re an escape and that escape is something they have a strong hold on.”

Tears stung your eyes and you pleaded, “I just… I wanna be safe!”

It seemed to pain her to say, “I already told you that I cannot stand in their way. I explained why, Y/N. I told you… I told you well why I couldn’t.”

“I have nowhere else to go,” you said tearfully, your voice breaking.

“What about back home? That seemed like an option.”

“And put my grandpa in danger by being around that house?”

Tatiana asked incredulously, “But you’re willing to put all the girls here in danger?”

You shook your head, hanging it. “It’s not the same. It’s… he’s sick.”

“Y/N. I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” you spat, tears rolling down your cheeks.

Her regretful sigh said enough. But she still said heavily, “Both. Stellina, you know it’s both.”

Wiping at your eyes, you stared at the wall instead of her. You needed to compose yourself, knowing you were going to get no help here. You had known it down deep in your gut. But you could not have helped yourself to not try, hoping against everything that it would turn out differently than you expected. That was the way of things; expect the worse and hope for the best.

Looking down at Luna’s cat carrier, you sighed heavily. Maybe you could at least save someone.

“Will you at least keep the cat? I can’t travel well with her. She’ll get along fine with the girls.”

Tatiana seemed ready to reject this request as well, “Y/N, people who come in may have allergies—”

You leveled her with a glare, “I can’t put her out on the street.”

Tatiana’s jaw set and you knew you had struck a nerve. Because that was exactly what she was doing to you.

“Fine, she can stay.”

Relenting, knowing that was the most you were going to get here, you nodded. “Thanks. She’s a good cat. I… she’s very cuddly and she’s not super high maintenance except for her litter. She likes a specific brand that I can write down. And Elisha isn’t allergic. And she likes cats.”

“I know,” Tatiana nodded. And you saw some tears in her eyes too, finally.

Sucking at your teeth, you pushed away from the chair you had been gripping and shrugged. “Then that’s that. I’ll… I’ll just leave her here. Her name is Luna. But I suppose she won’t mind if she’s renamed. She probably doesn’t understand it anyway. I’ve only had her for a short while. She likes fake mice—"

“Stop.”

You stopped talking and met her gaze.

“Where are you going to go?” Tatiana demanded.

You shrugged. That is all you had to offer.

Tatiana looked contemplative before wiping at her eyes. She muttered, “I’m gonna regret this.”

“What—” you started to say but she held up her finger and your mouth closed.

She reached for her bed side table, picking up her cell phone. She scrolled through it for a moment before tapping. The phone came to her ear and she shot you a worried look, before you heard someone answer on the other end.

“I know it’s early. I’m sorry. But I need a favor,” Tatiana said forcibly.

<><><>

“Terrence!” Daryl said for the third time into the walkie talkie forcibly. He had not heard from him in the last ten minutes that he had tried to check in. They only checked in every so often and Terrence was not responding.

Assuming the worst, Daryl took off from the lobby and made his way to the elevator, taking it up.

Terrence was nowhere to be found. The apartment door was unlocked. He pushed it open, finding Terrence slumped on the couch.

Rushing over, Daryl took Terrence’s pulse, finding him still very much alive. He spotted the alcohol and glass on the coffee table, putting two and two together.

There was an apartment key on the coffee table too, right next to the alcohol bottle.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld

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

[spine-buster]

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 11

A/N:  I know this chapter doesn’t have a lot of William/Aberdeen interaction, but we learn a lot about Aberdeen here.  Plus, the next chapters definitely make up for it.  Enjoy!

November 29th, 2019

Aberdeen Bloom was ready to go home and watch the game.  

They were facing Buffalo tonight, the first game in a back to back that would see the boys finally come home tomorrow after their long road trip.  Like most nights, all she wanted to do was go home, snuggle with Minerva, and finish the bag of Doritos.  Maybe she’d even be able to cook a well-balanced dinner before eating those Doritos she craved.

Except Peter had other plans for her.  

“You need to wait tonight for the mock-ups,” he told her before she could even pack up her bag and put on her jacket.  

“The…the mock-ups,” she nodded her head, pretending to know what he was talking about.  

“The mock-ups, Aberdeen.  Of the St. Pat’s jersey the team is going to wear,” Peter said.  “You have to deliver it to Brendan’s house tonight when the designer is finally done with it.”

“I thought he got those last week.”

“He did, but every night since then he’s returned it with his notes,” Peter explained.  “I’m supposed to do it, because Brendan is very private and doesn’t like strangers in his house, but I’m at an alumni event with Kyle tonight.  So…you get the lovely task of waiting around for the mock-ups.”

“That’s fine,” Aberdeen said.  She figured she wasn’t a stranger anymore to him, anyway – she’d been working for the team for about three months now.  Plus, it wasn’t like she could refuse to do it.  It was, in its own way, part of her job – sit around and do nothing but wait for something she needed to deliver.

“Now, it’s very important that you do exactly what I’m about to tell you,” Peter said, his tone suddenly getting very serious.  “Write this down.”  Aberdeen scrambled to get a pad of paper and a pen.  “The mock-ups will be delivered to you in a black portfolio and you must wait around for it until then.  You’re going to have to deliver Brendan’s dry cleaning with the mock-ups.”

“Okay…” she scribbled everything down so quickly she could barely read her own writing.  

“Lou will take you straight to Brendan’s house, as he does every morning.  Lou will have a spare key.  You let yourself in.  Now, Aberdeen…” Peter loomed over her sitting at her desk at this point.  He was looking her straight in the eye, staring into her soul.  “You do not talk to anyone.  Do not look at anyone.  This is of the utmost importance.  You must be invisible.  Do you understand?”

“Y—Yes.”

“You open the door and walk across the foyer.  You hang the dry cleaning in the closet across from the staircase that leads to the basement.  And you leave the mock-ups on the table with the flowers.  You then leave like you weren’t even there – like the mock-ups were delivered by a stork or something.”

“O—Okay,” he had officially made her nervous.  “W—What if—”

“Invisible, Aberdeen.”

She nodded her head.

***

“Here’s his key,” Lou said as they sat in the car for a few moments after he parked on the street.  “Peter told you what to do, yes?”

“Mhm,” Aberdeen nodded, gulping nervously.  She grabbed the key from Lou’s hand and clutched it in her hands.  “Wish me luck, Lou.”

She exited the car and walked up the driveway slowly, clutching the portfolio in one hand and his dry cleaning in the other, swung over her shoulder.  Shoving the key into the door, she opened it as quietly as she could, walking into his foyer.  Fuck, he had a beautiful house.  So this was the benefit of being the president of the Toronto Maple Leafs, huh?  And a three-time Stanley Cup Champion.  And one of the top 100 hockey players of all time…

Okay.  The dry cleaning.  

She looked at the stairs that led to the basement and noticed the closet right across from it, so she opened the door as quietly as she could and hung the three suits.  She closed it and looked around for a table with flowers.  

There was one right beside the closet.

There was one right at the entrance.

There was one further down the hall, with bigger flowers.

Aberdeen panicked.  “Shit!” she squealed to herself.  She stood in the hallway awkwardly, not knowing what to do.  The distant sound of a TV on somewhere in the house could be heard.  Somebody was walking upstairs.  Brendan was obviously somewhere in the house, but she had to be invisible.  Invisible.  But which table was it?!  What if she left the portfolio on the wrong one and he didn’t see it?  What if – what if – it had to be the table with the big flowers on it, right?  It was the biggest table.  The portfolio would at least fit on it and wouldn’t fall off.  The other tables were smaller.  Okay, big table with big flowers it was.

So she began walking into his house.  As quiet as a mouse.

But then she heard voices.  A long “Daaaaad!” and Brendan’s voice mumbling something.  Aberdeen froze in fear.

“Sweetpea, I was on a conference call with the NHL offices in New York City,” she heard Brendan loud and clear now as he followed his youngest daughter, Cate, right into Aberdeen’s view.

Cate whipped around and stopped right in the doorframe Aberdeen was looking into.  “But dad, I rushed out of class to try and call you, and I was trying to get a hold of you for almost an hour—”

“I was busy, sweetpea.  My cell phone line was all tied up and the notifications were silenced for the meeting—”

“You were the only dad who didn’t know within the hour.  Everyone else’s dad called to congratulate them on being selected for the team.  And I knew what all my friends were thinking – there’s Cate, waiting for her dad again.”  Cate stopped, noticing Aberdeen in the hallway.  Aberdeen couldn’t move as Cate saw her – she was too terrified.  When Brendan noticed his daughter looking away, he looked as well, seeing Aberdeen.

If one look could murder someone, Brendan had it on his face.  

Cate walked away from her dad, leaving him staring at Aberdeen, who was practically trembling from fear.  Her body felt like it was full of cement as she stood in place, not knowing what to do.  She couldn’t just hand in him the portfolio; she could just outright leave his house with the portfolio still in her hands.  As he continued to stare at her, she felt her body getting hotter under the pressure to do something.  Without thinking, she turned to her side, put the portfolio on the third or fourth step of the stairs beside her, and rushed out of the house, not looking back.  

***

November 30th, 2019

The next morning, Lou informed her that Brendan had gone into the office early, so they didn’t need to drive out to Etobicoke.  Aberdeen thought that weird, but didn’t put too much thought into it.  When she walked into the office alone, she barely had the opportunity to put her coffee or bag down before Peter swooped in.  “Nooooo no no no, you get over here,” Peter grabbed her arm.

“Okay okay okay okay—” she knew exactly what this was about.  

“What in the world happened last night, Aberdeen?” he asked.  

“It really wasn’t that big a deal.  I promise.  There were multiple tables with flowers, so I went into the hallway, you know near the stairs where the big table is—”

“You went into the hallway?  Oh my God, why didn’t you just climb into bed with him and Catherine and ask for a bedtime story?!” Peter was indignant.

“Okay, I made a mistake.  I know—”

“Aberdeen, you don’t understand.  I was the one supposed to teach you the ins and outs of this.  I can get in shit too, and if that happens, I will search every bank in the city of Toronto you’ll be telling in until I track you down.”

Aberdeen’s eyes widened at what Peter was implying.  “He’s gonna fire me?!”

Peter shrugged his shoulders.  “I don’t know.  But he’s not happy.”

“Aberdeen?” her name was called from deep within Brendan’s office.  

Both she and Peter looked towards the office.  Aberdeen could swear her heart was beating out of her chest.  She put her bag down on her desk and took off her jacket before she walked in, standing a few feet away from his desk.  “Mr. Shanahan…about last night—”

“I need you to get a jersey signed by Nick,” he said, furiously scribbling something down on his notepad, not looking at her.

She exhaled quietly.  Okay, so maybe he wasn’t as mad as Peter made him out to be.  Maybe he took it in stride and realized she was still learning and all he wanted her to do right now was get a jersey signed by Nik Antropov.  “Okay.  Okay.  I’ll go down to player development right now.”

“Did you fall down and smack your head on the pavement?”

She froze.  He finally looked up at her through his glasses, waiting for an answer.  Okay, maybe he was angry.  “Not that I can recall.”

“We need a Tre Kronor jersey from 2006 signed by Nicklas Lidstrom for a veteran who will be in attendance at the game tonight against Buffalo,” he said before focusing back on whatever he was scribbling down.  “We’re surprising him off-camera since Nick is his favourite defensemen.”

Aberdeen’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach.  “You want a signed jersey I can only find in Sweden?”

“We know everybody in hockey.  It shouldn’t be a problem, should it?” he asked, peering at her though he was still scribbling.  “And you can do anything, right?”

She smiled meekly at him before exiting his office.  She scurried behind her desk and noticed that Peter was still there, waiting for her to get out.  “He doesn’t get it,” she mumbled frantically to herself, scrambling and picking up things she didn’t even need, only to put them back on her desk.  “I could call fucking Nicklas Lidstrom himself.  I’m not gonna get that jersey.”

“What?” Peter furrowed his brows.

“Colonel Richard Brant will be backstage with us before the game.  6:30 is when I hope to give him the jersey so it better be here no later than six,” Brendan said as he walked out of the office, looking down at his watch for extra effect.

“Of course!” Aberdeen exaggerated her smile.

“And I’d like a hot coffee here in fifteen minutes when I get back,” he walked off.

“No problem!” she called out, starting to pant.  “Okay.  I have nine hours to get the impossible jersey.  Starbucks is just downstairs.  How am I going to do this?”

“Aberdeen, what are you talking about?  What impossible jersey?”

Aberdeen ignored Peter’s question, closing up her iPad and shoving it into her purse.  She sprung up from her desk chair.  “Okay.  I will be back in ten minutes.  Wish me luck!”

“Aberdeen!” Peter called after her as she ran down the hallway.  “ABERDEEN!”

***

Aberdeen’s heart had never beat so hard as it did as she was waiting for Brendan’s coffee.  She tried to think of ways she could get this impossible jersey.  Nicklas Lidstrom lived all the way in fucking Sweden.  Sweden.  A ten hour flight away – probably more.  And it’s not like the Leafs had his personal number or anything.  She had no way of contacting him and no way of even knowing anybody who would be remotely close to—

“We know everybody in hockey,” Brendan’s words echoed in her ear.  

Her eyes went wide.  She took out her phone and began furiously typing ‘Nicklas Lindstrom agent’ – three different agencies popped up with three different phone numbers – one for hockey, one for professional appearances, and another one for signings.  This was her start.

“Coffee for Brendan!” the barista called out, and Aberdeen reached to grab it before the barista could even put it down.  She rushed back up to the office, scurrying through the hallways and into his office to place it on his desk.  

She watched as he walked in, looking at his watch.  “What’s that?”  he asked, grabbing some files from his desk.  “I don’t want that.  I’m having lunch with Larry.  I’ll be back at three.”

Brendan left just as quickly as he arrived.  Aberdeen stood awkwardly in his office, trying not to cry as she picked up the Starbucks cup and practically whipped it into the garbage can.  She made herself calm down so her voice wouldn’t crack as she grabbed her iPad and her phone and began calling the numbers available for Nick.  When the two first ones didn’t even answer the phone, she prayed to God the last number worked in her favour.

She was put on hold for over ten minutes.  She wanted to scream.  Just as she was about to hang up and try the other numbers again, or at least call back because maybe she got stuck in an alternate “on hold” universe where she had been floating in the abyss for the last ten minutes, the stupid elevator music that was playing stopped.  “Alright, who’s Aberdeen Bloom and what do you need?” a man’s loud voice suddenly filled the line.

“Yes yes yes yes.  I’ve been on hold.  It’s for Brendan Shanahan – my name is Aberdeen Bloom and I’m his personal assistant.  It’s very important.  I need access to Nicklas Lidstrom and a Tre Kronor jersey—”

“Impossible,” the man barked.  

“Well, I was wondering if you could make the impossible possible…if that’s at all possible,” she was practically begging.  She knew she sounded completely desperate but at this point, she didn’t care.  Her job was on the line, and she would do anything to save it.

“Impossible,” he barked again.  “What do you think this is, some sort of convention?”

“Have I mentioned it’s for Brendan Shanahan?  President of the Toronto Maple Leafs?  Cause I think that makes a difference,” Aberdeen pressed.

“I know you’re desperate but it can’t be done,” he continued.  “You’ll just have to come up with a plan B.”

“This is Brendan Shanahan we’re talking about,” Aberdeen wanted to scream into the phone.  “There is no plan B – there is only plan A.”

“Listen.  Nick’s in Toronto but he’s booked solid.  He’s not taking any new meetings or engagements.”

Aberdeen couldn’t believe what she was hearing.  She wished this fucking dude could have led their abysmal conversation with that tidbit of information instead of giving her the go-around.  “He’s – He’s in Toronto?!”

“Yes, he’s been staying at the Four Seasons for the past two weeks because of the alumni game he had with Mats Sundin and other engagements.  But he’s leaving for Sweden tomorrow.  Today is his last and possibly his busiest day.  He just can’t get it done.”

The Four Seasons was up in Yorkville.  She could get there in maybe ten minutes if she flagged down a taxi.  “Have a good day,” she said as she hung up her phone, grabbing her bag and iPad before rushing out of the office

If Nick’s agent wasn’t going to help her, she was going to have to get to Nicklas her damn self.

***

Aberdeen tried to walk calmly into the Four Seasons – not at all looking like she was in a rush because her job was on the line and she was going to be fired at six that night – but the attempt proved futile.  One of the women behind the check-in desk was looking right at her the entire time she made her way towards them.  

“Hi,” Aberdeen said, slightly out of breath.  “My name is Aberdeen Bloom,” she said, grabbing her credentials and flashing them at the woman.  

“Can I help check you in?” the woman smiled.

“No no.  I’m Brendan Shanahan’s personal assistant.”  The woman looked confused.  “Brendan Shanahan, the president of the Toronto Maple Leafs,” she said, pushing the credentials forward so the woman could look at them herself.  “I need you to call Nicklas Lidstrom’s room for me so I can speak to him.”

The woman looked between Aberdeen and her credentials and furrowed her brows.  “Miss, I’m sorry, but a Mr. Nicklas Lidstrom is not staying at this hotel.”

Aberdeen’s body felt like it was on fire.  She knew this woman was lying, and Aberdeen didn’t have time for it at all.  There was no time for anything to go wrong right now.  “Listen, I know this is all very weird, but I know he’s staying here.  His agent just told me he’s been here for the last two weeks.  I need you to get a hold of him for me.”

“Miss – a Mr. Lidstrom is not staying at this hotel,” the woman repeated, moving towards the computer.  “I can even type his name in for you – no-one by that name is staying here.”

“Please, please, I’m begging you,” Aberdeen shook her head.  This couldn’t be happening to her right now.  “I know he must be under an alias or something because he’s a hockey player and this is Toronto.  I get it.  But I really need you to—”

“Miss, I’m sorry but it can’t be done,” the woman pushed Aberdeen’s credentials back towards her so she could take them.  “Nobody by that name is staying here.  And that’s that.”

“But his agent told me—”

“Miss, if you’re going to keep pressing this, I’m going to have to call my manager.”

That’s the last thing Aberdeen needed.  Aberdeen grabbed her credentials before giving one last dirty look to the woman as a ‘thanks for nothing’ – it was probably immature, but Aberdeen really didn’t like her right now.

Now what was she going to do?  If the hotel wouldn’t even let her have access to him, despite her showing them her credentials, how in the hell was she going to get to talk to him?  Would she have to sneak into the elevator and knock on every door until she found him?  Would she have to call back his agent and demand the access to him?  Would she have to learn Swedish and scream his name into the streets of Toronto and hope he’d hear?  Would she – Swedish – Swedish –

Swedish.  

No.  

She couldn’t.

She shouldn’t.

She had to.  

She whipped out her phone and called a number she knew off by heart.  “Real Sports Bar and Grill, how may I help you?” a perky voice answered on the other end.

“This is Aberdeen Bloom, Brendan Shanahan’s personal assistant,” she began as she usually did when she called them.  “I need you to get me the contact information for Michael Nylander immediately.”

“A-ber-deeeeeen Bloooom?” the girl on the other end asked.  Clearly she was new.  All the other hostesses already knew her name and had done the super-elongated pronunciation of her name before.  “I just can’t give that information away—”

“I am Brendan Shanahan’s personal assistant,” she repeated, her tone harsher this time.  “Check the employee directory if you need to.”

“I don’t have access to that—”

“Then call your manager!” she screamed, her patience wearing thin.  “I need his telephone number now.”

***

“Hello Mr. Nylander, this is Aberdeen Bloom calling.  You, uh, you probably don’t remember me – we met very briefly after a game in Toronto when you came to say hi to William and I opened the door for you.  I’m Brendan Shanahan’s personal assistant.  Um, anyways, listen – I have a massive favour to ask you because I’m desperate.  Like, desperate.  I noticed that you played on the same World Championship team as Nicklas Lidstrom, and I was wondering if you can please give me his personal phone number.  Like, a number he’d use when he’s in North America.  I need to contact him about something urgent, very urgent.  So, um, please, if you could give me a call back, that would be amazing.  Thank you, Mr. Nylander.  Have um, a good night?  I know it’s like almost night time there.  Okay bye.”

***

Every jersey on eBay was a fake or already had a name on it.  Aberdeen was getting desperate.  She’d been to Real Sports Apparel – no Tre Kronor jerseys.  She’d called every SportsChek, Sportling Life, Champs Sports, and just about every independent sports store in Toronto – no Tre Kronor jerseys.  Even the last store that she’d visited – gone by foot, even – didn’t have anything Swedish.

She was going to cry.  She’d be fired.  This is where it all ended.  She’d end up a bank teller for the rest of her life.  She’d never be able to write.  She’d never be able to do what she loved.  All because she couldn’t find a stupid jersey and was denied any access to one of the best defencemen in the history of the league —

Then her phone began to ring, snapping her away from her thoughts.  It was an unknown number.  Against her better judgement, she answered the call.  “Hello?”

“Hello, is this Aberdeen Bloom?” a calm voice asked on the other end.  She noticed because she was anything calm right now.

“Speaking.”

“Miss Bloom, this is Nicklas Lidstrom.”

Aberdeen stopped dead in her tracks, making various people almost crash into her on the sidewalk.  One of them gave her the finger.  “Mr. Lidstrom!  Hello!”

“My good friend Michael Nylander called me and gave me your number and told me to get in touch with you,” he said.  Her eyes went wide; she was going to have to erect a gold statue in Michael’s honour.  “Apparently you’re Brendan Shanahan’s personal assistant and there is an urgent matter?”

“Yes Mr. Lidstrom, yes,” she said, spinning around because she didn’t know what to do.  “Sir, I understand you’re in Toronto right now.”

“I am.”

“Staying at the Four Seasons?”

“Yes…”

“We have a veteran coming to the game tonight – Colonal Richard Brant – and you are his favourite defenseman,” she explained.  “I was wondering if you could sign a Tre Kronor jersey from 2006, when you won the gold medal.”

Nicklas laughed into the phone.  “A Tre Kronor jersey?  Miss Bloom, I will sign what you need me to sign, but I don’t have a Tre Kronor jersey with me.  Not least from 2006.”

“If I find one, will you sign it?”

“Well, I don’t know where you’re going to find an almost fifteen year old mint-condition Swedish jersey in Toronto, but sure.  Unless you have it shipped in from Sweden.  You’ll have to come to the Four Seasons after 5:30 – that’s when my last commitment ends,” he said.  

“I’ll be there at 5:30,” she said definitively.  “I’ll call you back on this number.”

Aberdeen’s heart was racing as she hung up the phone.  She had exhausted all her sports store leads for Swedish jerseys.  What else could she do?  Who else could she call?  Who in Toronto would have a mint condition Tre Kronor jersey from 2006?  Swedish people, obviously, but…

Her eyes went wide.  She swiped through her phone to find another phone number.  

“Aberdeen?” Robert Nordmark, one of the Swedish scouts for the Leafs, answered on the other end.  “Why’re you calling me?

“Robert, where can I find a 2006 Tre Kronor Olympic jersey in Toronto?”

***

It was 5:55pm as Aberdeen made her way throughout the offices, her flats clacking against the floor as she made her way into Brendan Shanahan’s office.  He was facing away from her, so he couldn’t see her come in and place the jersey on his desk in one fell swoop.  It was the breeze from the jersey that finally made him turn around, immediately eyeing her and looking down at the jersey on his desk.

“One jersey, not signed?” he asked, staring down at the Tre Kronor jersey.  “What is the colonel going to do with that?  He probably already has five.”

“Oh no, here’s the signature,” she said, flipping the jersey over to reveal the perfect inscription and signature.  “I had Mr. Lidstrom customize it and sign it, right here on his number,” she said, watching Brendan’s eyebrows raise higher and higher until he took off his glasses.  “And one more thing.”

Brendan’s eyes whipped up to meet hers.  “What’s that?”

On cue, Nicklas walked into Brendan’s office.  “Hey Shanny – or do I have to call you Mr. Shanahan now?”

“Nicklas,” he smiled, though he was still looking at Aberdeen.  His body was perfectly still despite one of his old friends walking into the room.  “What a pleasant surprise.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” Aberdeen smiled.

He eyed her one more time.  He was clearly in shock that she was able to get it done.  “That’s all.”

***

Aberdeen’s body was aching with fatigue as she gathered the last of her belongings from her desk after the game.  The Leafs had won in overtime, Colonel Richard Brant got his jersey and got to meet Nicklas, which made him cry, and everything was alright in the world.  She’d finally be able to go home after the shit-show of the day she had.  Cuddle with Minerva.  Eat Doritos.  Eat in general, since she hadn’t all day, too busy going on wild goose chases all over Toronto for Nicklas Lidstrom and a Tre Kronor jersey from random Swedish people living in The Beaches who just happened to have five Nicklas Lidstrom jerseys from 2006 in their house because that’s how much they loved him.

As she escaped down the stairs, taking the route that would lead her right out the door to the street, she heard another person’s shoes clacking up the concrete steps.  When she looked up, she saw William rushing up the stairs.  

Of course.  Because the day couldn’t just end.

“Aberdeen,” he said, approaching her and grasping onto her elbow gently, sending shockwaves throughout her body.  It didn’t even matter that she had her wool coat on.  He pulled her over to the side on one of the landings, a worried look on his face.  “Why’d you call my dad today?”

She shook her head.  She should have known Michael would also call William about it.  “It’s a long story.”

“Well, tell me now,” he said.  “I’ve been worried fucking sick since he called me to tell me and I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

“I just…I had to get a hold of Nicklas Lidstrom, and your dad helped,” she explained briefly, not really wanting to get into it.  She didn’t want William knowing how much of a fucking idiot she was and the reason why she had to do this seemingly impossible task in the first place.  “It’s all – it’s all fine.”

“So you’re okay?” William pressed.

“Yeah.  Fucking tired though.  Niklas is one busy guy,” she tried to make a joke.  William didn’t laugh.  She sighed.  “Can I just go home?”

“Why’d you have to get hold of Nick?” he asked, not able to let it go.

She sighed, bringing her hand up to rub her forehead.  “I made Brendan angry, okay?  I fucked up and I like, went into his house when I wasn’t supposed to and overheard a fight he was having with his daughter and then he saw me and—”

“Holy shit, Aberdeen.”

“Yeah, I know.  Believe me,” she said.  “I had to live through how much he didn’t like that today, alright?  You don’t have to tell me too.”

William could tell by the tone of her voice she didn’t want to talk about it.  “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again, wanting, needing to make sure.  He even went so far as to reach out to grab her hand, though she pulled away before he could really get a good grip and lace his fingers with hers.

“Yes,” she said.  “I’m just tired, Will.  Can you please just let me go home?”

“Can I walk you home?”

With whatever backbone she had left in her after the day she’d just had, she shook her head.  “No, Will.  You should be going home to sleep.”

“But Aberdeen—”

“Goodnight, Will,” she said as she sidestepped away from him.  “Nice goal tonight, by the way,” she said as she looked back at him, descending down the stairs.  

***

December 4th, 2019

Lou and Aberdeen had been waiting in Brendan’s driveway for almost ten minutes.  He had never taken this long in the mornings ever since she began her job, and she was starting to get worried.  Was he already in the office and forgot to tell them?  Did he sleep in?  Brendan wasn’t one to sleep in.

“This ever happen before?” Aberdeen asked Lou.

“He’s probably looking for a sock or tie pin,” he joked.  

Her phone began to ring, and she saw his name flash across her screen.  “Good morning Mr. Shana—”

“Can you come in here quickly please?  Aaaargh!” he gruntled into the phone.  He sounded like he was moving something.

“Um…I’ll be right in,” she said, taking off her seatbelt and getting out of the car.  This had to be some sort of joke.  Just a few days ago he murdered her with his eyes for being in his house – now he wanted her inside?  She didn’t get it.  

When she shut the front door behind her, he must have heard her.  “Can you come downstairs, please?” he called out from the basement.  

“Is this some sort of sick joke?!” she called back, standing nervously in his foyer.  

“No – no, but I get why you’d ask that.  I can be an asshole, I know,” he kept calling out.  At least he admitted it out loud.  “I just need your help finding something!”

Against her better judgement, Aberdeen took off her winter boots and made her way into Brendan’s house, going down the stairs into the basement.  She saw Brendan kneeling on the floor in his suit, a bunch of boxes surrounding him.  “I need your help finding some of my old yearbooks.”

“Yearbooks?”

“Yes.  Can you check these boxes while I work on these?” he said, rummaging through the one in front of him.  

Aberdeen did as she was told, looking around the boxes for the apparent yearbooks he was so desperate to see this morning.  On her third box, she hit the jackpot.  “These?” she asked, lifting one up.

“Yes!” Brendan exclaimed excitedly.  She handed it to him.  “God, this is from St. Leo.”

Aberdeen perked up at that name.  “You went to St. Leo?”

“Yeah, why?”

Aberdeen couldn’t help but smile.  She couldn’t believe this was happening.  Of all the schools in Etobicoke – of all the Catholic schools in Etobicoke.  “My mom teaches grade one at St. Leo,” she revealed.  

“What!” he exclaimed excitedly, his eyes lighting up at the information.  “Oh man…I guess I never really did ask you about your family, huh?”

“You haven’t,” Aberdeen shook her head.  “But that’s okay.  I don’t…I like to keep them separate.  I don’t like bringing my work home.  Family stays family and work stays work.  That’s the way I like it.  No overlapping, because then things get complicated.”

“I get it,” Brendan nodded.  “That’s why I got so upset when I saw you in the house…I mean, I—"

“You don’t need to – I was being an idiot,” Aberdeen shook her head, trying to wave it off.

“No no – you deserve an explanation,” he said.  “This job is all encompassing.  Sometimes I forget that I should be on the beck and call of my children rather than the NHL head office,” he explained.  “Catherine did a lot of the parenting while I was playing, as you can imagine.  But when I retired, I made a promise to myself that I’d always be there for my kids.  That they would always know they were the priority instead of hockey.  Sometimes I break that promise.  And it breaks my heart when I do, because I don’t want my kids thinking that they’re not my first priority.  So that night, when Cate told me she had made the rowing team, and that she was trying to call me to tell me the good news, and I didn’t answer the phone – she got upset.  I got upset.  It was a horrible thing for me to do.  And then I saw you and you reminded me of work in that moment fighting with my daughter and it just – it all spiralled out of control.  Work didn’t become separate from family in that moment.  But I want to apologize, Aberdeen.”

“You don’t have to do that—”

“Yes, I do, Aberdeen.  I was being an asshole.  And I shouldn’t have punished you when all you were doing was your job.  So really – I’m sorry.”

Aberdeen didn’t know what to say.  It was so clear to her that Brendan loved his family and children more than anything, but she could understand how being president of the Toronto Maple Leafs could be all-encompassing.  She could understand how it took a lot out of a person – and how that person would want some quality time with family when they got home.  “Thank you,” she began awkwardly.  “But I must say, that wasn’t the first time I’ve done something stupid since moving downtown and getting this job.  And as my boss you know better than anyone – besides my mother – that it won’t be my last time.”

Brendan chuckled slightly at her words.  “I promise I’ll be nicer next time,” he quipped.  “So your mom wasn’t nervous or scared about you moving out and living downtown?” he asked.

Aberdeen snorted.  The notion to her was completely ridiculous.  “My mom grew up in Belfast and Derry during The Troubles – she’s not scared of shit.”

Brendan laughed out loud.  “A Belfast lass?  She’s like my mom, then.”

“Seriously?”

“Mhm,” Brendan nodded his head.  “Rosaleen.  Dad’s from Dunmanus in the Republic.”

“My mom’s family is originally from Aberdeen in Scotland.  Hence my name.  But my grandparents moved to Belfast before my mom was born because my grandpa got a job there.  Then to Derry,” she explained.

“So does your mom have an accent?”

“Oooooooh yeah,” Aberdeen nodded.  “She’s straight out of that show Derry Girls.  She moved to Canada when she was eighteen so the accent never left her.  There’s no way she could lose it.  I mean, she lived in Bogside in Derry.  Staunch Catholic.  Still goes to church every Sunday.”

“Do you?”

Aberdeen shook her head.  “My sister and I used to.  She’d drag us along, but we stopped in high school after our confirmation.  Still have the guilt though,” she joked.

“Ahhh, that good old Catholic guilt.  And your dad?”

“Dad’s Persian.”

Brendan looked at her skeptically.  Everybody always did when she told them her dad was Persian.  “Bloom isn’t a very Persian name.”

Aberdeen nodded.  “Yeah…it’s a long story,” she said.  Brendan’s look urged her to go on.  “My dad fled Tehran during the revolution.  His parents were university professors and after the political revolution came the cultural revolution.  They taught English literature and promoted a lot of Western texts so they knew they would be targeted.  They made him leave because they were scared the new government would target him, too.  He was only fourteen.”

“Fourteen?”

“Yeah.”

“H—How did he get out?”

Aberdeen shrugged.  “He walked.  Took buses and stuff.  His parents gave him money to pay traffickers to get him across borders.  They made him change his last name so he wouldn’t get caught.  Forged documents and everything.  He chose Bloom because of Leopold Bloom from Ulysses.”

“James Joyce.”

“Exactly,” she said.  “So he left and went Aleppo first.  All his documents were processed there – claimed refugee status, all that.  Then Canada finally accepted him, and he came over at eighteen as well.  Didn’t look back.”

Brendan was silent as he took in all the information.  “What happened to your grandparents?”

Aberdeen paused.  “When he first left, he would write them every week.  The letters back and forth would be sent through intricate channels and to friends of friends so it could get to each other and not be traced, because they were still scared.  It lasted for maybe a year, but then they stopped responding.  And he knew.”

Brendan stayed silent.  The information she’d just revealed to him was clearly hitting him hard.  And he knew nothing about it until now.  He realized there was a lot more to Aberdeen than he thought; a lot more to her than he led himself to believe.  He should have known better.  Everyone had a story, a family history within them that defined who they were and how they saw the world.  This was Aberdeen’s story; this was her family history that defined so many things about her.  “Your parents have been through a lot – the Troubles and a revolution.  That’s incredible.”

“Yeah,” she nodded her head.  “I think it’s part of what bonded them together.  They had similar experiences in that regard.  Like, my mom voluntarily left and went to university here because she was sick of all the violence at home.  She felt like it would never end, and she never went back to Northern Ireland until it did.  And my dad – well, he left kind of involuntarily, but he knew deep with him he had to leave Iran.  And when he finally got to Canada, he loved it.  He’s always told me and my siblings he never considered returning, and that he thanks his lucky stars every day that Canada accepted him.”

“Siblings?”

“Siena’s older – she’s in law school in Ottawa.  Then there’s the baby Camden.  He’s eleven.  Right now he wants to be an engineer.”

Brendan nodded his head.  “So then tell me something, Aberdeen,” he began.  “Who is it you want to be like?”

Aberdeen shrugged her shoulders.  “I just want to be the best version of me, really.”

“But there needs to be a person you look up to, career-wise,” Brendan pressed.

Aberdeen shrugged sheepishly.  She was almost embarrassed to say.  “Anna Wintour.”

“Pardon?”

“Anna Wintour,” she said more loudly this time.  

“Anna Wintour?” he asked, clearly shocked by her answer.  “Why Anna Wintour?”

“Well, for one, she’s incredibly stylish – that’s a given,” Aberdeen shrugged again.  “But it’s important.  Because regardless of how much people peddle that inner beauty is what counts, your first impression of someone isn’t of their inner beauty.  I’m not saying that’s a good thing, I’m just saying that’s the way it is.  So she’s stylish, and she presents herself well, but also…she got shit done.  She was an editor at magazines.  She’s changed the way we see fashion and how fashion influences us our everyday lives.  I know not a lot of people like her and I know she has her faults, but we all do.  She’s incredibly driven – even now when she’s perhaps one of the most iconic magazine editors in recent memory.  She’s never complacent.  She always strives for more.  She seeks out new designers to support.  She finds the best and promotes the best.  She never stops.”

“You mean she strives, she seeks, she finds, and doesn’t yield?” he chuckled slightly, referring to her tattoo.

“Exactly.”

“And you enjoy fashion?”

Aberdeen smiled.  “I enjoy it as much as an almost-broke-just-graduated-from-university person can,” she joked.  “It’s not really about the fashion.  I think I’m fashionable and can be fashionable given the opportunity but it’s not about that.  It’s about creativity.”

Brendan smiled knowingly.  “Creativity,” he repeated before pausing.  “You know Aberdeen, I wasn’t sure if you were going to be able to pull off the Nicklas Lidstrom thing,” he admitted.

“I know you didn’t.”

“You know, out of all the personal assistants I’ve had, you’re the only one that was able to pull something like that off,” he revealed.  “And not only that – you got Nick to come to the arena.”

Aberdeen shrugged her shoulders.  She didn’t know what he wanted her to say.  “I was just doing my job, Mr. Shanahan.  I was just doing what you told me to do.”

“Nah,” he shook his head, dismissing her words.  “You were creative in your approach.  You thought outside the box and you got it done.  You made the virtually impossible, possible.  Which, again, is more than I can say for all my other previous assistants.”  He paused again.  “You’ve got it in you, Aberdeen – the creativity.  You’ll be able to show it one day.”

“I hope so, Mr. Shanahan.”

“Brendan,” he corrected her.

After everything that was revealed between them, she finally felt like they were on the same page.  She let loose.  “I hope so, Brendan.”

[swiss-cheeze]

What Gube Wore || Matthew Gray Gubler

Request: YES/NO: I asked the Instagram account whatgublerwore if I was able to use a few of their posts (as well as a few I asked for specifically) and they agreed!

Gender: they/them, none.

Warnings: uh, cute? Kissing, Gube being Gube.

———

‘Can we go for a walk?’ you had asked, ‘of course, after I finish learning this scene babe,’ he said. Oh yeah, walk, AN HOUR AGO. All you wanted to do was to take a walk in the nearby park, frolic in the flowers and then walk home in the dark with Matthews arm wrapped around your shoulders as you try not to fall asleep on him.

That's it, that's all.

You loved him with every fibre of your being, for five years of course you did, DO. But goddamn can Gube be annoying.

------

Puppy.

Fish.

Matthew at a red carpet two years ago.

Criminal Minds.

Cosplay.

Puppies.

This is what graced your instagram page as you scrolled through that little magnifying glass at the bottom of your screen. Scrolling. Scrolling. Scrolling. God, it was endless! You let out a little huff as you put your arm down beside you, phone still in hand, and let your head fall back on the top of the couch. You could hear Matthew rehearsing upstairs for one of the newer movies he recently got cast in; Gube did allow you to rehearse lines with him every now and then when he needed it, bounding down the stairs with a ‘BABE HELP’ before shoving the paper into your chest, telling you what to read and where to end before bounding back up to his office for another few hours, however that was not the case today. Picking up the dreaded block of wires and battery you scrolled to the top of the discovery page, pulled down and waited for the pictures to load, however as soon as the pictures did load, one caught your eye. You cocked an eyebrow as you pressed on it; a half picture of Gube and the shirt he had on and the other half was the shirt he was wearing in the picture.

‘Whatgublewore’, was the name. You cocked an eyebrow as you clicked onto the profile, and sure enough there was 29 posts of shirts that Gube had worn, that teddy bear face coin purse (you swore you saw that purse not a day ago), sweatshirts, jackets, a cup and that orange and black scarf of his you loved. They were all there including the real names as well as ebay listings or prices from the actual website, you couldn't help the smile that spread on your face as you went through every single post, looking at the listings as well as the names and liking the ones you, well...liked, obviously. It didn't cross your mind that yourself and Matthew had been out about your relationship for the past 4 years and whoever ran the account would see that ‘(Y/n)_Gube’ would be liking their posts...whoops? You shrugged at the thought as you finally got to the end of the posts, and followed the account as a devious plan crossed your mind, an evil grin replaced the previous happy smirk as you got off the leather couch and bounced to Matthews office.

“Guuubbeeee~” you sang from outside the door with the ‘shave and a haircut’ knock. You could hear the rustling of Matthew as he put down his script, possibly his journal, what sounded like a few pencils and another book? (possibly his art book?). The oak door opened and you were met with a disheveled looking Matthew; hair sticking in every angle and matted, sweaty, but still smiling.

“Hey darling, you okay?” he asked, you gave out a laugh as you pushed Matthew back into the room and walked straight for the unopened window.

“You have to learn to open the window in this room Gube, remember last time?” you questioned as you opened the window, a nice gust of wind rustling the sill, curtains and loose papers as Matthew let out a soft sigh from the sudden coldness in the room.

“What? Me passing out? No not at all,” Matthew said with a laugh as he played with his shirt before sitting back down in front of his desk and picking up a blue colour pencil, you shook your head as your devious plan rolled itself onto its back in your mind.

“Gube, you said we would go for a walk when you finished the scene!” you huffed softly like a little child as the scratching of Matthews pencil came to a halt and he placed his head in his hands on his desk, your face fell. He was exhausted, “oh...babe,”

“Im sorry,” the small whisper came from Matthew as he rubbed his hands over his face, “Darling i am really sorry,”

“Oh sweets,” you mumbled as you padded softly to the man in front of you, your hands coming onto Matthews shoulders and rubbing the tension and knots out of them, Matthew groaning appreciatively, “come on babe, it's not too late; let's go for a walk to the park and get some ice cream” you kissed the side of Matthews head softly before going lower down his ear. Leaving butterfly kisses to the side of his neck, down his collarbone before giving a little nip and quickly kissing your boyfriend's cheek, his hearty laugh bubbling from his throat.

“Yeah come on, grab some shoes let's go to the park,” Matthew said happily as he stood up but you blocked his walk way, a cocked eyebrow was all you got.

“Can I wear your Coach Western Parka with fringe from the 2018 fall slash winter collection?” you questioned with a shit eating grin, Matthews mouth dropped open for a moment before closing, opening, closing and opening again as his finger came up to point at you, took a breath before clothing his mouth again.

“My what?” Matthew questioned, completely oblivious and confused, you giggled.

“That jacket you wore to the Horse Girl premier earlier this year!” your excited voice rang out, Matthew winced slightly with a laugh.

“Right, that one, of course! How could i forget” Matthew said with a laugh as he put a finger in his ear and wiggled it, “huh? I'm sorry? What? I can't hear you, my girlfriend made me deaf” Matthew said with a laugh as you giggled with him, giving a little ‘im sorry’ before Matthew shook his head and quickly picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder and walking to your shared bedroom. Your loud screams of ‘GUBE’, ‘PUT ME DOWN’, and ‘TWIG’ seemed to go on deaf (pun definitely intended) ears as you hit Matthews butt softly, after a few seconds of Matthew walking (seemingly taking the long route to the bedroom) you started to just play with his nice rounded butt, hitting it like bongos while making ‘boop boop boop’ sounds. “You good back there?” Matthews asked, aliebt loud so you could hear what he was saying.

“Perfectly fine besides the dizziness of my blood rushing to my head!” you said with a laugh before Matthew finally got to the bedroom and placed you down on the shared bed, walking to the wardrobe he found the jacket you requested and threw it to you from across the room before the two of you started moving around the room/house; grabbing shoes, keys, purses or wallets as well as Matthew quickly shoving on a jumper he left from earlier in the day before heading out the door for a nice relaxing walk...plus ice cream!

-------

About a week passed since you asked specifically for Matthews clothing and since then you hadn't asked for them by name, just taking what you wanted because you knew Gube wouldn't mind either way, but as the two of you where getting ready to go shop in a few new thrift stores as well as the newly opened ‘The Smell Of Old Books And Coffee’ cafe; buy, read or rent books while drinking your favourite drink or cakes, only rule? You spill it, you buy it. You grinned as you swiped through that same instagram page before finally landing on something good, you liked the photo, read the title a few times and then closed the app and your phone and shoving it into your jeans pocket as Matthew walked into the bedroom.

“You ready doll?” Matthew asked as he put away a few of your stray shirts, you smiled.

“Yeah, can i just borrow your Vintage Tuak Canada Wool Sweater?” you asked with a devilish grin as Matthews face broke out in a smile too.

“Okay, what's up with you?” Matthew asked as he stood in front of you, “how do you know all these names suddenly that I can't even remember or know?”

“I have my ways~” you singed, “gray zip up sweater with what looks like brown snowflakes on it,” you said describing the jacket, Matthews eyebrows rose in confusion.

“Gotta give me-”

“You spilt orange juice on it when we went on a breakfast date in the winter two years ag-”

“YEP OKAY” Matthew said quickly, remembering the embarrassing moment instantly, you laughed as you put a finger in your ear and wiggled it.

“I'm sorry? Did you say something? I think my boyfriend screamed so loud HE MADE ME DEAF” you yelled at the end of your sentence jokingly as Matthew rubbed the sweater on your face, muffling your laugh.

“Blah blah!” Matthew said as you took the jumper and slid it on, zipping it up halfway before walking out with Spencer to the shops, your evil plan still dwindling in your mind.

-----

You waited another two, almost three weeks before asking for another article of clothing; this time it was for an radio interview for the both of you, ‘celebrities and their relationships: Matthew Gray Gubler and (Y/n) (L/n)!’.

“BAAAABBBBBEEEEEEE” your loud voice rang out from the kitchen as you heard the tell tale sign of Matthew footsteps moving towards you, his head popping out from a doorway making you laugh as his hair bounced.

“Wassup?” Matthew questioned.

“Can I wear your blue blue japan woven rayon MT. fuji & sakura fubuki short sleeve shirt?” you questioned, “jesus christ that was a mouthful i didn't even think i would get out,” you said with a deep breath and a laugh, Matthew was laughing too with that beautiful smile of his.

“You gotta tell me what shirt that is love,” Matthew said as he finally came to lean against the door frame.

“Blue shirt, you wore it in japan for your book tour,” you said with a grin, “cherry blossom petals-”

“GOT IT” Matthew exclaimed from the hallway as he ran to the bedroom, you waited a few moments and sipped at the juice you had in front of you before hearing Matthews footsteps coming back and into the kitchen with the shirt you requested.

“Thank youuu~” you kissed Matthews cheek on your tiptoes before pulling the shirt over your head and tucking it into your pants.

“You gonna tell me how you know the names of all of these shirts or still keep me in the dark?” Matthew asked as he fingered the collar of your (his) shirt.

“Imma keep you in the dark a little longer” you said with a sigh and sweet smile before Matthew rolled his eyes teasingly and beant to kiss your forehead.

“Alright fine, you gotta tell me soon though” Matthew mumbled softly, you kissed the man's chin as it was the only thing you could reach with his lips on your forehead.

“I will, promise” you said softly, “I just like messing with you, you know that,” Matthew finally released your forehead as you looked at him, your eyes beamed with love and mischief as Matthew smiled before tugging you out of the house and towards the interview.

-------

Again a few weeks past before you asked for another article of clothing of Spencers, this time it was for a cute little local carnival that the two of you agreed to go to, and you just thought this little number would be cute for people to see, so, you bounced to Matthew who was in the kitchen pouring a cup of coffee.

“Oh no, did the body come back alive?” Matthew asked as he added sugar with a grin.

“Oh shit yeah, i had to uh, kill someone else cuz they saw me burying the other one” you said with a laugh, this was an inside joke of course and you two didnt actually kill anyone, Matthew laughed as he took a mouthful of his coffee and leant against the kitchen counter.

“Okay, what do you want this time my little duckling?” Matthew asked, the nickname made you grin wider at the irony.

“Since we’re about to leave for the carnival~” you singsonged as you cozied up to Matthew, him looking down at you with such love and adoration, “could i wear your Ralph Lauren Mallard Sweater?” you asked with a knowing look.

“And what sweater is this exactly?” Matthew asked as he kissed the top of your head and wrapped his arms around you, coffee cup still in hand.

“The ducks!” you happily exclaimed, Matthew made a ‘ah’ sound.

“Should've known,” Matthew laughed, “i'll go grab it while you pack the car?” your boyfriend asked, you gave a nod, kissed his cheek and bounced off to the car to start packing. A few minutes passed and of course Matthew came out with the sweater of your request, handed it to you, gave you a loving kiss against the car and then got in; driving off to the carnival.

-------

The two of you flopped through the door of Matthews ‘haunted tree house’, showbags, teddies and food tucked under each of your arms and a few bags in your mouth for extra space (Matthew had laughed when he asked where the last few bags would go and suggested a second trip but of course, you being you said two trips where for losers and simply opened your mouth, and of course Matthew didn't say no). The bags rustled as they where put down on the couch and you stood around for a little, taking in the day as you pulled out your phone and scrolled through the numerous photos you had taken; on the ferris wheel, darts, milk bottles, a few with fans (those made you smile the most).

“Why are you smiling at your phone doll?” Matthew asked as he somehow morphed next to you, you grinned.

“The photos from today,” you showed the photos on your phone to Matthew who giggled at a few and pointed into some others at peoples passing faces that he thought was funny, but, his laugh was caught short when you swiped across for another photo without realising that that new photo was of Matthews Cherry Blossom shirt, and it was an instagram screenshot.

“Babe whats that?” he took your phone as you protested against him, swiping for the piece of tech, Matthew swiped a few more times and sure enough there was more, specifically of the previous items of clothing you'd asked for in the passing week. He turned to you with a confused look, “okay, cats out of the bag, what's this?” Matthew questioned, you huffed slightly but agreed, the cat was indeed out of the bag.

“Okay okay, i found this account,” you paused and took the phone from Matthew and moved it to Instagram, “here,” you showed the account to Matthew who idly scrolled through the few hundred posts, “they came across my suggested page and i thought they were so cool,” you shrugged feeling slightly embarrassed, “they do a lot of research for what you wear and have and i think it's just a really cool thing that they do and other people also buy what you've worn and it gets those brands out to more people and all of that good stuff and...yeah” you shrugged, “i'm sorry” you mumbled.

“What? No sweetheart, don't say sorry, this is like amazing!” Matthew exclaimed as he brought you in for a hug, “this account is amazing,” Matthew reached into his pocket and brought out his own phone and found the clothing account, “‘Whatgublewore’?” he laughed, “that's one way to put it,” and with that Matthew followed the account as he handed back your own phone.

“You do realise the heart attack you're going to give that person who runs that account right?” you asked with a chortful laugh as Matthew had realisation all over his face.

“Shit,” he thought for a moment.

“Send them a message Gube,” you said knowingly with a laugh.

“RIGHT, yeah that would be a good idea wouldn't it?” Matthew said with a laugh and a smile as he brought up the messaging box.

‘Hello!

Yes this is the real Matthew Gray Gubler.

Thank you so much for this account! It's amazing that my fans do these sorts of things, it's slightly weird but weird is good. (Y/n) found your account and for the past few weeks has been asking for certain shirts, jumpers and sweaters with their exact names because of your account!

It's amazing that you've done this and I encourage you to continue.

Don't be afraid to message me if you get stuck, i can send photos of the tags and...stuff, lol.

Thanks,

Gube.’

“How's that?” Matthew asked you, you scanned the message and smiled.

“I think they’ll love it,” you said with a nod, Matthew grinned as he sent the message and turned off his phone.

“Well i think that's enough phone time for one day,” Matthew said he he plucked your phone from your hands amongst your protests, “how about we go up to our room with all the candy we've got, watch movies and eat ourselves into a sugar rush slash sugar coma”

“That sounds brilliant” you agreed as the two of you started gathering the candy into one bag (leaving the others on the couch for you to deal with tomorrow), grabbing a water bottle each from the fridge you always have stored (reusable don't worry) and headed up to your shared room to start binge watching...well, whatever you wanted really.

[sasuhinasno1fan]

Crushing on the rival-Lukadrien June Day 3

Ok, yes I’m technically late, but I don’t care! I wanted to do a Glee AU so bad and this was so hard to do. Usually when reading Glee Klaine fics as lukadrien, Nino is at Dalton since either Nick or Jeff becomes Kurt’s best friend and you can’t split up Nino and Adrien. So Nino attended for a while before budget cuts messed up his scholarship. Kieran is from @depressed-teacup-inc and @sarcasticsparkles Divergence. I meant for him to featured just a little more but it just didn’t work out like that. Adrien’s mom is alive but is spliting up with his dad and I put Chloe in Rachel’s position when it came to dating the enemy first since it always comes up in Anderberry fics when Rachel doesn’t say who Blaine is because she doesn’t want to be accused of selling secrets to her brother. Anyway, please enjoy and we’ll see if day 4 actually comes out. Rival Musicians 

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Nino said, adjusting his white tie. He’d forgotten how much he hadn’t been a fan of the Quantic Academy uniform. The pale blue shirts with the black blazers and white ties weren’t his aesthetic and even though it sucked to lose his scholarship, he’d been beyond happy to never put the uniform on again. He looked over to Marc and Nath, who seemed to pull it off with ease.

Totally unfair.

“I can’t believe you let Alya and Marinette bully you into coming to spy.” Nath said.

“No you’re not.” Marc clarified. “Remember how we got together?”

“Yeah, no. this fits perfectly. We should just be glad Chloe wasn’t the one to find out you used to go to school with our competitor. That would have been worse.”

“Yeah, especially since we all experienced her dating the ‘enemy’ last year. Last thing I need is her accusing me of giving secrets away. I really don’t want to bring up her asshole ex in her face. She’s finally starting to open up again.” Nino said.

“Where’s Adrien?” Marc asked, changing the subject. “You made it sound like we have a small window.”

“We do. Assuming things haven’t changed in a year, teachers take the afternoon to have a meeting while letting the students study and such. Or in the Warbler’s case, have impromptu performances to test songs out. If we don’t want to get caught, we need to be there when the mass text goes out and everyone is heading to the Senior Commons.”

Just then, a very familiar silver car pulled up in front of the boys. Adrien climbed out, in a black leather jacket and a white rocker tie but still in the same colours.

“Sorry I’m late. Mom promised the appointment would be over before I had to leave, but divorce proceedings involving my dad aren’t exactly easy. They were arguing over my ‘modelling’ career for a full hour before my mom’s lawyer managed to shut my dad up. I think, that woman speaks like a pirate and is just as ruthless and doesn’t like my dad, so she could have been insulting him for all I know.”

“Sorry you have to deal with this.” Nino said, patting his best friend on his shoulder.

“You haven’t modelled for almost 3 years. Your ‘career’ is just your dad reusing old photos of you for campaigns.” Nath said. “We can only hope we don’t have another instance like when it was your first day at school and you ran into the glee room to hide from your fans.”

“But, hey! We got you out of it.” Nino said. “You stick out like a sore thumb though.”

“It’s not my fault. You said you had enough extra uniforms. You’re the one who didn’t include yourself in the count. Let’s just be happy I have enough clothes to make an iteration of it.” Adrien said.

“Fair enough. Come on.”

All four of them walked into the main building. It was beautiful, a mix of old architecture and new, like a classic hotel or something along the lines. They slowed when Nino did as they approached the front desk, which was thankfully empty with a note to call when arrived.

“I’m so happy the headmaster uses the front desk secretary as his own. I mean, she gives as good as she gets and doesn’t take shit, but she’s also got a practical eidetic memory.” Nino said. “Ok, now there’s a student that we called the Caterpillar – he lived in my dorm and everyone had Alice in Wonderland names – who has access to everyone’s phone number and he’s in the Warblers, so he sends out a massive text message to everyone.”

“How are we even sure they’re planning on doing a performance?” Adrien asked.

“We don’t but I know so close to competition time Marin would want to practise when they have the chance, so at the very least we can peak into the Senior Commons were they practise.”

They got to the first hallway and Adrien saw that what he thought ground level was actually the first floor.

“Cafeteria is downstairs and exits for the gardens and the library. This floor holds some classrooms and common rooms, more classrooms and offices upstairs. The Senior Commons is actually down the hall and downstairs. They got first pick when the place was being built and it has the closest exit to where the dorms are.”

“Should we hang near there or somewhere else?” Nath asked.

However, before Nino could offer a suggestion, the one thing Adrien dreaded pierced through the empty and quite hallway.

“Ohmygod! It’s Adrien Agreste!”

Adrien liked anime, especially the feel-good ones. The one he liked the most was Gakuen Babysitter. The scene before him reminded him of when the twins’ father, a famous actor came to school and was found out by one of the students and suddenly the area around him were swarming with fans. What happened was a bit like that, except screaming boys instead of girls and Adrien actually got a head start in running away.

Nino hated his best friend had to suffer through this, so when he was separated from him and the rest of the guys and only found Marc and Nath not long after, he felt worried.

“Where’s Adrien?”

“We thought he was with you.”

“Ok, screw Marinette and Alya telling us not to get caught.” Nino said, pulling his phone out and scrolling through his contacts until he reached one with the name being just a butterfly emoji. “If they want info, they can come look themselves. My best friend is in a school that’s not desensitized to him being around and we’re find him before we leave.”

Of course, before he could call, he saw a text from the same butterfly named person.

I’m gonna let Marin yell at you for coming to spy.

Nino cursed. He’d been hoping to avoid that. Marinette and Alya were bad and Chloe worse, but Marin lording over him with his gavel, that was something he didn’t miss from attending school here.

But don’t worry. A certain blue haired Hatter was placed in the little Alice’s path. He’ll take care of him. Also, I know a certain March Hare misses you too.

Ok, maybe he’d have to kiss that Caterpillar after all.

                                       ____________________

Adrien slowly opened the door after finally hearing the hallway fill up and all move in one direction. Everyone was speaking excitedly, so no one noticed Adrien slipping out and joining the crowd. He looked around, hoping to see 3 familiar faces but no luck. he didn’t even know if this crowd was people going to see the Warblers. He bit his lip, trying to decide what to do. He could ask and then be in a bad spot if someone recognised him or he could ask what was going on and duck into a bathroom if it wasn’t Warblers related. He decided to risk it.

“Excuse me,” he said, tapping someone on the shoulder. The guy had dyed blue hair and when he turned around Adrien saw he had the piercings to match his punk look. The uniform really didn’t match him at all. “Hi, I’m new here. What’s going on?”

He gave Adrien this smirk as if to say, ‘I know why you’re here’. “I’m Luka.”

“Adrien, nice to meet you.”

“Adrien. Well, don’t worry, I won’t scream your name. and to answer your question, the Warblers are doing an impromptu performance.”

“Oh.”

“If you want, I can take you there. You know, bump into your friends who came to spy with you.”

“S-spy? I didn’t come to spy.”

“Right, so your lack of uniform and Nino being here is a happy coincidence.”

Adrien couldn’t really think of a lie, so thrown off. He let out a squeak when Luka grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hallway. This one was emptier and Adrien took a closer at Luka. his uniform was perfect but his shoes were emblem covered high tops. His nails were painted and fingers home to a few rings. He also noticed a few bracelets peaking out from under shirt sleeve. Luka seemed like such an anomaly in his perfect uniform but things that spoke to his personal aesthetic.

Before he knew it, they were back in a crowd as they entered a room, no doubt the Senior Commons.

“Shot, I do stick out like a sore thumb.” Adrien said, once he saw himself compared to everyone.

“I don’t know, I like your version better.” Luka said, tugging at one of the lapels of Adrien’s leather jacket. “Your friends are over there.” He nodded towards the door, where Marc, Nath and Nino were, all standing on their toes trying to look over the crowd. Nino got distracted by someone with light brown hair and purple rain boots, but Marc and Nath spotted him.

“How did…?”

“I’m sure Nino will tell you about the special ways of the Warblers.” Just at the front of the room, 2 lines of boys appeared as they started to create a beat. “Now if you excuse me. Kieran!”

The guy Nino had been talking to darted over to the lines and Adrien took his place, hearing his friends ask him what happened and if he was ok, but his attention was focused on Luka, who stood in the very front singing.

Before you met me, I was alright But things were kinda heavy, you brought me to life Now every February, you'll be my Valentine Valentine

Let's go all the way tonight No regrets, just love We can dance until we die You and I will be young forever You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream

He was good, really good. And he kept staring right at Adrien.

“That’s Luka. we were roommates when I was here.” Nino said, finally getting his attention. “He was well on his way to being lead vocalist when I left.”

“He’s really good.”

“Yeah. Don’t let his accessories fool you, he’s a cool guy.”

Yeah, he was.

When the song was over and the room burst into loud applause, cheers and whistles, Luka found his way over, with the same guy who’d been talking to Nino before and two new people. They reminded him a bit of Marinette and Alya, though one of them had a sever expression currently directed at Nino.

“You come spy and you don’t even come to say hello? I’m ashamed of you Nino.” The one who reminded Adrien of Marinette said.

“Please give it a rest Marin.” Nino begged.

“No, no, let him suffer more. I’m enjoying this.” Kieran said.

“Just to check, you’re not going to report us, right?” Marc asked, looking nervous.

“Don’t worry. Your attempts are endearing and we know Nino wouldn’t bring you over here without good reason.” The other guy said. “we’re not planning on using that song for the Sectionals, so you won’t go home empty handed.”

“How about coffee? Nino doesn’t know this, but we finally opened the coffee bar in the cafeteria, student run. We can stay here if you want.” Luka offered.

In the end, Adrien waited in the room, with Nino getting dragged to be lectured by his old friends and Nath and Marc having such complicated orders, it just made more sense to go with them. Adrien looked around the commons, taking in the couches and many side tables. A few had an almost permanent show print in them, like they’d been jumped on. The few people inside the room still paid his no attention, other than glancing at him.

“Here you go.” Luka said, handing him a to go cup. “Nino mentioned you didn’t like coffee so I got you hot chocolate. Better than most cafes, we make our own with milk.”

“Thanks. Where are the others?”

“Kieran is still making Marin lecture Nino and it turns out Alan is a fan of your friends’ comic, so just me for now.”

“That’s fine. Maybe you can tell me why the tables have footprints on them.” Adrien said, tugging his jacket off as Luka plopped down next to him.

“I have a habit of jumping around on tables during practise. Marin yells at me for it, but I can’t help it. Which is surprising, since I’m pretty stationary during performances.”

Adrien let out a little laugh. “You sound like my cat. Doesn’t matter how many cat perches we have for him; he just climbs up anywhere else. Granted, focusing on him and glee has been a godsend for my mental health recently.”

“Yeah, I’m sure dealing with arguing parents and divorce isn’t easy.”

Adrien looked over at Luka, confused as to how he knew that.

“Oh, yeah. My mom is your mom’s lawyer.” Adrien raised an eyebrow not believing him. “She sounds like this.” Luka said in the same thick accent Anarka had.

“Holy, hey wait. Juleka is Anarka’s daughter, which means she’s…”

“My sister. Competing against each other, but don’t worry. Music is sacred in our house so we don’t play dirty.”

“Whoa.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t go fishing for anything. I just thought that things must be pretty difficult. Your dad makes mom pretty upset.”

“Yeah. It hasn’t been easy. The whole divorce hasn’t but this modelling thing is making things worse. Honestly, I’d be happy with glee drama. It’s the only thing that feels like it makes sense.”

“I get that. I’m older than Juleka, but I’ll be graduating at the same time as her because I ended up pulling out of school for a while. During all that, music was the only thing that made sense.”

“Was everything ok?” Adrien asked.

“Come here.” Luka led Adrien over to a piano that sat in the corner. “Take a breath and listen.” He ordered, resting his fingers on the keys. He watched Adrien do as he was told and he let his fingers move across the keys.

Adrien stared as he heard the emotions he’d been feeling were played. Every note and beat was everything.

“I’ve never been good at words. Mom struggled to get me to talk but she knew I liked music, so that started to become my voice. I guess the easiest way to explain it is I’m an empath. I can hear emotions and I tend to stay quiet. Some people at my old school didn’t like that I kept quite or I could play what they felt. Add on the muscle heads who didn’t understand that liking guys didn’t mean I liked them, things got insane. So I left and came here.” Luka ended Adrien’s song and sat on the bench to look at the blonde. “Even though music sort of got me into that mess, I get it being the only thing that feels like it makes sense.”

Adrien sat next to Luka. “And now you have glee. I was running from fans when I ran into our glee room. Mlle Bustier was ok with letting me hide there but when I saw how much fun everyone was having singing, I wanted to do the same. It’s been my escape.”

Luka bumped his elbow into Adrien’s side. “And people think models aren’t anything like us.”

“I’m really sorry you had to deal with that stuff, but I guess if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have met Nino and he wouldn’t have taken us here and we wouldn’t get to meet.”

“Guess there’s a silver lining for everything. It’s a shame we’re going up against each other in Sectionals. Hanging out with you would be fun.”

“Well,” Adrien said, shrugging, “No one said we can’t text.”

“I thought one of your team members dated a guy from an opposing team?”

“Who said anything about dating? We’re just texting. I mean, Nino texts you and the others, right? What makes me so different?”

Luka let out a laugh. “Fair enough. Adrien Agreste, rebel. I think you’ve been around my mom too much; she’s starting to take an effect on you.”

“You say that as if being a rebel is a bad thing.”

                                          ______________________

Well Adrien wasn’t a rebel, but he did enjoy talking to Luka. he was easy to talk to and they had a lot in common. When employing the same rules Juleka and Luka had on their houseboat when it came to glee, it was easy to forget he was competing against him. Nino encouraged it when he found out.

“Besides, if you end up liking Lu and asking him out, then I can ask Kieran out. Maybe. I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

It wasn’t hard to like Luka. he was good looking and funny and nice and his singing voice was amazing. But Adrien also knew dating during competition season was asking for another Chloe situation even if Luka would never do what that asshole ex did. So, Adrien made a deal with himself, he’d ask Luka out after Sectionals. One of them would win and then they wouldn’t compete anymore unless a space opened up. It would be fine.

I used to rule the world Seas would rise when I gave the word Now in the morning I sleep alone Sweep the streets I used to own

I used to roll the dice Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes Listen as the crowd would sing "Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!"

One minute I held the key Next the walls were closed on me And I discovered that my castles stand Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand

And of course listening to Luka sing Viva la Vida made Marc lean over to him and tell him if he didn’t ask him out, he would.

But like the world was against him, both the most amazing and worst thing happened. They tied. Chole had said how rare that happened. Adrien could only think about how he felt cheated out of asking Luka out. Which was why he waited in the bathroom, waiting for Luka to come in.

“Hi.” Luka said when he came in. he looked a bit disheartened and Adrien really hoped he was reading the reason right.

“Hey. Congratulations by the way. Your Viva la Vida was amazing. Chloe thought so too and she doesn’t compliment the competition much.”

“Thanks. I know you said you were a countertenor but I never expected you to hold that note in So much better.”

“Thanks. Um, listen. I really hope I haven’t been reading the signs wrong, but…I like you, enough to tell myself that after Sectionals were over, no matter what happened, I’d ask you out. But I wasn’t expecting us to both win. But that hasn’t exactly discouraged me.”

“You haven’t been reading them wrong. It was my plan too but it would really be a bad idea to date. The stakes are even higher now. Though…God, Marin might kill me for suggesting this, but how about one date? One date to get it out of our system and to also give us something to look forward to after Regionals. There isn’t a chance we’ll tie again so it’ll be fine after then, but I don’t think either of us can wait that long.”

The door to the bathroom opened and Nino poked his head in. “Adrien, bro. the bus is here, time to go.”

“Yes.” He said to Luka as he headed to the door. “I’ll text you.”

As Nino dragged him to the bus before the group got angry, Adrien told him what he and Luka planned on doing.

“As your teammate, this is a horrible idea. As your best friend, this is the best idea ever and I demand details after.”